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LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS.
Mostly by
THOMAS CARLYLE.
New York:
Delisser & Procter, 508 Broadway.
1859.
EDITOR'S PREFACE.
The readers of the "Household Library" will certainly welcome a Life of
Burns. That his soul was of the real heroic stamp, no one who is familiar
with his imperishable lyric poetry, will deny.
This Life of the great Scottish bard is composed of two parts. The first
part, which is brief, and gives merely his external life, is taken from
the "Encyclopedia Britannica." The principle object of it, in this place,
is to prepare the reader for what follows. The second part is a grand
spiritual portrait of Burns, the like of which the ages have scarcely
produced; the equal of which, in our opinion, does not exist. In fact,
since men began to write and publish their thoughts in this world, no one
has appeared who equals Carlyle as a spiritual-portrait painter; and,
taken all in all, this of his gifted countryman Burns is his master-piece.
I should not dare to say how many times I have perused it, and always with
new wonder and delight. I once read it in the Manfrini Palace, at Venice,
sitting before Titian's portrait of Ariosto. Great is the contrast between
the Songs of Burns and the _Rime_ of the Italian poet, between the fine
spiritual perception of Carlyle's mind and the delicate touch of Titian's
hand, between picturesque expression and an expressive picture; yet this
very antithesis seemed to prepare my mind for the full enjoyment of both
these famous portraits; the sombre majesty of northern genius seemed to
heighten and be heightened by the sunset glow of the genius of the south.
Besides giving the article from the "Encyclopedia Britannica," as a kind
of frame for the portrait of Burns, we will here add, from the "English
Cyclopedia," a sketch of Carlyle's life. A severe taste may find it a
little out of place, yet we must be allowed to consult the wishes of those
for whom these little volumes are designed.
* * * * *
Carlyle, (Thomas,) a thinker and writer, confessedly among the most
original and influential that Britain has produced, was born in the parish
of Middlebie, near the village of Ecclefechan, in Dumfries-shire,
Scotland, on the 4th of December, 1795. His father, a man of remarkable
force of character, was a small farmer in comfortable circumstances; his
mother was also no ordinary person. The eldest son of a considerable
family, he received an education the best in its kind that Scotland could
then afford--the education of a pious and industrious home, supplemented
by that of school and college. (Another son of the family, Dr. John A.
Carlyle, a younger brother of Thomas, was educated in a similar manner,
and, after practising for many years as a physician in Germany and Rome,
has recently become known in British literature as the author of the best
prose translation of Dante.) After a few years spent at the ordinary
parish school, Thomas was sent, in his thirteenth or fourteenth year, to
the grammar school of the neighboring town of Annan; and here it was that
he first became acquainted with a man destined, like himself, to a career
of great celebrity. "The first time I saw Edward Irving," writes Mr.
Carlyle in 1835, "was six-and-twenty years ago, in his native town, Annan.
He was fresh from Edinburgh, with college prizes, high character, and
promise: he had come to see our school-master, who had also been his. We
heard of famed professors--of high matters, classical, mathematical--a
whole Wonderland of knowledge; nothing but joy, health, hopefulness
without end, looked out from the blooming young man." Irving was then
sixteen years of age, Carlyle fourteen; and from that time till Irving's
sad and premature death, the two were intimate and constant friends. It
was not long before Carlyle followed Irving to that "Wonderland of
Knowledge," the University of Edinburgh, of which, and its "famed
professors," he had received such tidings. If the description of the
nameless German university, however, in "Sartor Resartus," is to be
supposed as allusive also to Mr. Carlyle's own reminiscences of his
training at Edinburgh, he seems afterwards to have held the more formal or
academic part of that training in no very high respect. "What vain jargon
of controversial metaphysic, etymology, and mechanical manipulation,
falsely named science, was current there," says Teufelsdroeckh; "I indeed
learned better perhaps than most." At Edinburgh, the professor of
"controversial metaphysic" in Carlyle's day, was Dr. Thomas Brown, Dugald
Stewart having then just retired; physical science and mathematics, were
represented by Playfair and Sir John Leslie, and classical studies by men
less known to fame. While at college, Carlyle's special bent, so far as
the work of the classes was concerned, seems to have been to mathematics
and natural philosophy. But it is rather by his voluntary studies and
readings, apart from the work of the classes, that Mr. Carlyle, in his
youth, laid the foundation of his vast and varied knowledge. The college
session in Edinburgh extends over about half the year, from November to
April; and during these months, the college library, and other such
libraries as were accessible, were laid under contribution by him to an
extent till then hardly paralleled by any Scottish student. Works on
science and mathematics, works on philosophy, histories of all ages, and
the great classics of British literature, were read by him miscellaneously
or in orderly succession; and it was at this period, also, if we are not
mistaken, he commenced his studies--not very usual then in Scotland--in
the foreign languages of modern Europe. With the same diligence, and in
very much the same way, were the summer vacations employed, during which
he generally returned to his father's house in Dumfries-shire, or rambled
among the hills and moors of that neighborhood.
Mr. Carlyle had begun his studies with a view to entering the Scottish
Church. About the time, however, when these studies were nearly ended, and
when, according to the ordinary routine, he might have become a preacher,
a change of views induced him to abandon the intended profession. This
appears to have been about the year 1819 or 1820, when he was twenty-four
years of age. For some time, he seems to have been uncertain as to his
future course. Along with Irving, he employed himself for a year or two,
as a teacher in Fifeshire; but gradually it became clear to him, that his
true vocation was that of literature. Accordingly, parting from Irving,
about the year 1822, the younger Scot of Annandale, deliberately embraced
the alternative open to him, and became a general man of letters. Probably
few have ever embraced that profession with qualifications so wide, or
with aims so high and severe. Apart altogether from his diligence in
learning, and from the extraordinary amount of acquired knowledge of all
kinds, which was the fruit of it, there had been remarked in him, from the
first, a strong originality of character, a noble earnestness and fervor
in all that he said or did, and a vein of inherent constitutional contempt
for the mean and the frivolous, inclining him, in some degree, to a life
of isolation and solitude. Add to this, that his acquaintance with German
literature, in particular, had familiarized him with ideas, modes of
thinking, and types of literary character, not then generally known in
this country, and yet, in his opinion, more deserving of being known than
much of a corresponding kind that was occupying and ruling British
thought.
The first period of Mr. Carlyle's literary life may be said to extend from
1822 to 1827, or from his twenty-sixth to his thirty-second year. It was
during this period that he produced (besides a translation of Legendre's
"Geometry," to which he prefixed an "Essay on Proportion,") his numerous
well-known translations from German writers, and also his "Life of
Schiller." The latter and a considerable proportion of the former, were
written by him during the leisure afforded him by an engagement he had
formed in 1823, as tutor to Charles Buller, whose subsequent brilliant
though brief career in the politics of Britain, gives interest to this
connection. The first part of the "Life of Schiller" appeared originally
in the "London Magazine," of which John Scott was editor, and Hazlitt,
Charles Lamb, Allan Cunningham, De Quincey, and Hood, were the best known
supporters; and the second and third parts, were published in the same
magazine in 1824. In this year appeared also the translation of Goethe's
"Wilhelm Meister," which was published by Messrs. Oliver and Boyd, of
Edinburgh, without the translator's name. This translation, the first real
introduction of Goethe to the reading world of Great Britain, attracted
much notice. "The translator," said a critic in "Blackwood," "is, we
understand, a young gentleman in this city, who now for the first time
appears before the public. We congratulate him on his very promising
debut; and would fain hope to receive a series of really good translations
from his hand. He has evidently a perfect knowledge of German; he already
writes English better than is at all common, even at this time; and we
know of no exercise more likely to produce effects of permanent advantage
upon a young mind of intellectual ambition." The advice here given to Mr.
Carlyle by his critic, was followed by him in so far that, in 1827, he
published in Edinburgh, his "Specimens of German Romance," in four
volumes; one of these containing "Wilhelm Meister's Wanderjahre," as a
fresh specimen of Goethe; the others containing tales from Jean Paul,
Tieck, Musaeus, and Hoffman. Meanwhile, in 1825, Mr. Carlyle had revised
and enlarged his "Life of Schiller," and given it to the world in a
separate form, through the press of Messrs. Taylor and Hessay, the
proprietors of the "London Magazine." In the same year, quitting his
tutorship of Charles Buller, he had married a lady fitted in a pre-eminent
degree to be the wife of such a man. (It is interesting to know that Mrs.
Carlyle, originally Miss Welch, is a lineal descendent of the Scottish
Reformer, Knox.) For some time after the marriage, Mr. Carlyle continued
to reside in Edinburgh; but before 1827 he removed to Craigenputtoch, a
small property in the most solitary part of Dumfries-shire.
The second period of Mr. Carlyle's literary life, extending from 1827 to
1834, or from his thirty-second to his thirty-ninth year, was the period
of the first decided manifestations of his extraordinary originality as a
thinker. Probably the very seclusion in which he lived helped to develope,
in stronger proportions, his native and peculiar tendencies. The following
account of his place and mode of life at this time was sent by him, in
1828, to Goethe, with whom he was then in correspondence, and was
published by the great German in the preface to a German translation of
the "Life of Schiller," executed under his immediate care:--"Dumfries is a
pleasant town, containing about fifteen thousand inhabitants, and to be
considered the centre of the trade and judicial system of a district which
possesses some importance in the sphere of Scottish activity. Our
residence is not in the town itself, but fifteen miles to the northwest of
it, among the granite hills and the black morasses which stretch westward
through Galloway almost to the Irish Sea. In this wilderness of heath and
rock, our estate stands forth a green oasis, a tract of ploughed, partly
inclosed and planted ground, where corn ripens and trees afford a shade,
although surrounded by sea-mews and rough-woolled sheep. Here, with no
small effort, have we built and furnished a neat, substantial dwelling;
here, in the absence of a professional or other office, we live to
cultivate literature according to our strength, and in our own peculiar
way. We wish a joyful growth to the roses and flowers of our garden; we
hope for health and peaceful thoughts to further our aims. The roses,
indeed, are still in part to be planted, but they blossom already in
anticipation. Two ponies which carry us every where, and the mountain air,
are the best medicine for weak nerves. This daily exercise, to which I am
much devoted, is my only recreation; for this nook of ours is the
loneliest in Britain--six miles removed from any one likely to visit me.
Here Rousseau would have been as happy as on his island of Saint-Pierre.
My town friends, indeed, ascribe my sojourn here to a similar disposition,
and forbode me no good result; but I came hither solely with the design to
simplify my way of life, and to secure the independence through which I
could be enabled to remain true to myself. This bit of earth is our own;
here we can live, write, and think, as best pleases ourselves, even though
Zoilus himself were to be crowned the monarch of literature. Nor is the
solitude of such great importance, for a stage-coach takes us speedily to
Edinburgh, which we look upon as our British Weimar; and have I not, too,
at this moment, piled upon the table of my little library, a whole
cart-load of French, German, American, and English journals and
periodicals--whatever may be their worth? Of antiquarian studies, too,
there is no lack."
Before this letter was written, Mr. Carlyle had already begun the
well-known series of his contributions to the "Edinburgh Review." The
first of these was his essay on "Jean Paul," which appeared in 1827; and
was followed by his striking article on "German Literature," and by his
singularly beautiful essay on "Burns" (1828). Other essays in the same
periodical followed, as well as articles in the "Foreign Quarterly
Review," which was established in 1828, and shorter articles of less
importance in Brewster's "Edinburgh Encyclopedia," then in course of
publication. Externally, in short, at this time, Mr. Carlyle was a writer
for reviews and magazines, choosing to live, for the convenience of his
work and the satisfaction of his own tastes, in a retired nook of
Scotland, whence he could correspond with his friends, occasionally visit
the nearest of them, and occasionally also receive visits from them in
turn. Among the friends whom he saw in his occasional visits to Edinburgh,
were Jeffrey, Wilson, and other literary celebrities of that capital (Sir
Walter Scott, we believe, he never met otherwise than casually in the
streets); among the more distant friends who visited him, none was more
welcome than the American Emerson, who, having already been attracted to
him by his writings, made a journey to Dumfries-shire, during his first
visit to England, expressly to see him; and of his foreign correspondents,
the most valued by far was Goethe, whose death in 1832, and that of Scott
in the same year, impressed him deeply, and were finely commemorated by
him.
Meanwhile, though thus ostensibly but an occasional contributor to
periodicals, Mr. Carlyle was silently throwing his whole strength into a
work which was to reveal him in a far other character than that of a mere
literary critic, however able and profound. This was his "Sartor
Resartus;" or, an imaginary History of the Life and Opinions of Herr
Teufelsdroeckh, an eccentric German professor and philosopher. Under this
quaint guise (the name "Sartor Resartus" being, it would appear, a
translation into Latin of "The Tailor done over," which is the title of an
old Scottish song), Mr. Carlyle propounded, in a style half-serious and
half-grotesque, and in a manner far more bold and trenchant than the rules
of review-writing permitted, his own philosophy of life and society in
almost all their bearings. The work was truly an anomaly in British
literature, exhibiting a combination of deep, speculative power, poetical
genius, and lofty moral purpose, with wild and riotous humor and shrewd
observation and satire, such as had rarely been seen; and coming into the
midst of the more conventional British literature of the day, it was like
a fresh but barbaric blast from the hills and moorlands amid which it had
been conceived. But the very strangeness and originality of the work
prevented it from finding a publisher; and after the manuscript had been
returned by several London firms to whom it was offered, the author was
glad to cut it into parts and publish it piecemeal in "Frazer's Magazine."
Here it appeared in the course of 1833-34, scandalising most readers by
its Gothic mode of thought and its extraordinary torture, as it was
called, of the English language; but eagerly read by some sympathetic
minds, who discerned in the writer a new power in literature, and wondered
who and what he was.
With the publication of the "Sartor Resartus" papers, the third period of
Mr. Carlyle's literary life may be said to begin. It was during the
negotiations for the publication that he was led to contemplate removing
to London--a step which he finally took, we believe, in 1834. Since that
year--the thirty-ninth of his life--Mr. Carlyle has permanently resided
in London, in a house situated in one of the quiet streets running at
right angles to the River Thames, at Chelsea. The change into the bustle
of London, from the solitude of Craigenputtoch was, externally, a great
one. In reality, however, it was less than it seemed. A man in the prime
of life, when he came to reside in the metropolis, he brought into its
roar and confusion, not the restless spirit of a young adventurer, but the
settled energy of one who had ascertained his strength, and fixed his
methods and his aims.
Among the Maginns and others who contributed to "Frazer," he at once took
his place as a man rather to influence than be influenced; and gradually,
as the circle of his acquaintances widened so as to include such notable
men as John Mill, Sterling, Maurice, Leigh Hunt, Browning, Thackeray, and
others of established or rising fame in all walks of speculation and
literature, the recognition of his rare personal powers of influence
became more general and deep. In particular, in that London circle, in
which John Sterling moved, was his personal influence great, even while as
yet he was but the anonymous author of the "Sartor Resartus" papers, and
of numerous other contributions, also anonymous, to "Frazer's Magazine,"
and the "Edinburgh," "Foreign Quarterly," "British and Foreign," and
"Westminster," Reviews. It was not till 1837, or his forty-second year,
that his name, already so well known to an inner circle of admirers, was
openly associated with a work fully proportional to his powers. This was
his "French Revolution: a History," in three volumes, the extraordinary
merits of which as at once a history and a gorgeous prose-epic, are known
to all. In 1838, the "Sartor Resartus" papers, already re-published in the
United States, were put forth, collectively, with his name; and, in the
same year, his various scattered articles in periodicals, after having
similarly received the honor of re-publication in America, were given to
the world in four volumes, in their chronological series from 1827 to
1837, under the title of "Miscellanies." Mr. Carlyle's next publication
was his little tract on "Chartism," published in 1839, in which, to use
the words of one of his critics, "he first broke ground on the Condition
of England question."
During the time when these successive publications were carrying his name
through the land, Mr. Carlyle appeared in a new capacity, and delivered
four courses of lectures in London to select but crowded audiences,
including many of the aristocracy both of rank and of literature: the
first, a course on "German Literature," delivered at Willis's Rooms in
1837; the second, a course on "The History of Literature, or the
Successive Periods of European Culture," delivered in Edward-street,
Portman-square, in 1838; the third, a course on "the Revolutions of Modern
Europe," delivered in 1839; and the fourth, a course on "Heroes,
Hero-worship, and the Heroic in History," delivered in 1840. This last
course alone was published; and it became more immediately popular than
any of the works which had preceded it. It was followed, in 1843, by "Past
and Present," a work contrasting, in a historico-philosophical spirit,
English society of the middle ages with English society in our own day;
and this again, in 1845, by "Oliver Cromwell's Letters and Speeches, with
elucidations and a connecting narrative;" such being the unpretending form
which a work, originally intended to be a history of Cromwell and his
times, ultimately assumed. By the year 1849, this work had reached a third
edition. In 1850, appeared the "Latter-Day Pamphlets," in which, more than
in any previous publication, the author spoke out in the character of a
social and political censor of his own age. From their very nature, as
stern denunciations of what the author considered contemporary fallacies,
wrongs, and hypocrisies, these pamphlets produced a storm of critical
indignation against Mr. Carlyle, which was still raging, when, in 1851,
he gave to the world his "Life of John Sterling." While we write (April,
1856) this, with the exception of some papers in periodicals, is the last
publication that has proceeded from his pen; but at the present the
British public are anxiously expecting a "History of the Life and Times of
Frederick the Great," in which he is known to have been long engaged. A
collection of some of the most striking opinions, sentiments, and
descriptions, contained in all his works hitherto written, has been
published in a single volume, entitled, "Passages selected from the
Writings of Thomas Carlyle," (1855,) from the memoir prefixed to which, by
the editor, Mr. Thomas Ballantyne, we have derived most of the facts for
this notice.
An appreciation of Mr. Carlyle's genius and of his influence on British
thought and literature, is not to be looked for here, and indeed is hardly
possible in the still raging conflict of opinions--one might even say,
passions and parties--respecting him. The following remarks, however, by
one of his critics, seems to us to express what all must admit to be the
literal truth:--"It is nearly half a generation since Mr. Carlyle became
an intellectual power in this country; and certainly rarely, if ever, in
the history of literature, has such a phenomenon been witnessed as that of
his influence. Throughout the whole atmosphere of this island his spirit
has diffused itself, so that there is, probably, not an educated man under
forty years of age, from Caithness to Cornwall, that can honestly say that
he has not been more or less affected by it. Not to speak of his express
imitators, one can hardly take up a book or a periodical, without finding
some expression or some mode of thinking that bears the mint-mark of his
genius." The same critic notices it as a peculiarity in Mr. Carlyle's
literary career, that, whereas most men begin with the vehement and the
controversial, and gradually become calm and acquiescent in things as they
are, he began as an artist in pure literature, a critic of poetry, song,
and the drama, and has ended as a vehement moralist and preacher of social
reforms, disdaining the etiquette and even the name of pure literature,
and more anxious to rouse than to please. With this development of his
views of his own functions as a writer, is connected the development of
his literary style, from the quiet and pleasing, though still solid and
deep beauty of his earlier writings, to that later and more peculiar, and
to many, disagreeable form, which has been nicknamed 'the Carlylese.'
* * * * *
As all the world knows, two volumes of Carlyle's Frederick the Great have
recently appeared. We might add, from personal acquaintance, many
anecdotes, but we have learned, during a long residence abroad, to respect
the hospitality that we have enjoyed.
O. W. WIGHT.
_January, 1859._
LIFE OF BURNS.
_PART FIRST._
Robert Burns, the national bard of Scotland, was born on the 25th of
January, 1759, in a clay-built cottage about two miles south of the town
of Ayr. He was the eldest son of William Burnes, or Burness, who, at the
period of Robert's birth, was gardener and overseer to a gentleman of
small estate; but resided on a few acres of land which he had on lease
from another person. The father was a man of strict religious principles,
and also distinguished for that penetration and knowledge of mankind
which was afterwards so conspicuous in his son. The mother of the poet
was likewise a very sagacious woman, and possessed an inexhaustible store
of ballads and legendary tales, with which she nourished the infant
imagination of him whose own productions were destined to excel them all.
These worthy individuals labored diligently for the support of an
increasing family; nor, in the midst of harassing struggles did they
neglect the mental improvement of their offspring; a characteristic of
Scottish parents, even under the most depressing circumstances. In his
sixth year, Robert was put under the tuition of one Campbell, and
subsequently under Mr. John Murdoch, a very faithful and pains-taking
teacher. With this individual he remained for a few years, and was
accurately instructed in the first principles of composition. The poet and
his brother Gilbert were the aptest pupils in the school, and were
generally at the head of the class. Mr. Murdoch, in afterwards recording
the impressions which the two brothers made on him, says: "Gilbert always
appeared to me to possess a more lively imagination, and to be more of the
wit, than Robert. I attempted to teach them a little church music. Here
they were left far behind by all the rest of the school. Robert's ear, in
particular, was remarkably dull, and his voice untunable. It was long
before I could get them to distinguish one tune from another. Robert's
countenance was generally grave, and expressive of a serious,
contemplative, and thoughtful mind. Gilbert's face said, _Mirth, with thee
I mean to live_; and certainly, if any person who knew the two boys had
been asked which of them was the most likely to court the muses, he would
never have guessed that _Robert_ had a propensity of that kind."
Besides the tuition of Mr. Murdoch, Burns received instructions from his
father in writing and arithmetic. Under their joint care, he made rapid
progress, and was remarkable for the ease with which he committed
devotional poetry to memory. The following extract from his letter to Dr.
Moore, in 1787, is interesting, from the light which it throws upon his
progress as a scholar, and on the formation of his character as a
poet:--"At those years," says he, "I was by no means a favorite with
anybody. I was a good deal noted for a retentive memory, a stubborn,
sturdy something in my disposition, and an enthusiastic idiot piety. I say
idiot piety, because I was then but a child. Though it cost the
schoolmaster some thrashings, I made an excellent scholar; and by the time
I was ten or eleven years of age, I was a critic in substantives, verbs,
and particles. In my infant and boyish days, too, I owed much to an old
woman who resided in the family, remarkable for her ignorance, credulity,
and superstition. She had, I suppose, the largest collection in the
country, of tales and songs, concerning devils, ghosts, fairies, brownies,
witches, warlocks, spunkies, kelpies, elf-candles, dead-lights, wraiths,
apparitions, cantrips, giants, enchanted towers, dragons, and other
trumpery. This cultivated the latent seeds of poetry; but had so strong an
effect upon my imagination, that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I
sometimes keep a sharp look-out in suspicious places; and though nobody
can be more skeptical than I am in such matters, yet it often takes an
effort of philosophy to shake off these idle terrors. The earliest
composition that I recollect taking pleasure in, was, _The Vision of
Mirza_, and a hymn of Addison's, beginning, "_How are thy servants blest,
O Lord!_" I particularly remember one-half stanza, which was music to my
boyish ear:
"For though on dreadful whirls we hung
High on the broken wave."
I met with these pieces in _Mason's English Collection_, one of my
school-books. The first two books I ever read in private, and which gave
me more pleasure than any two books I ever read since, were, _The Life of
Hannibal_, and _The History of Sir William Wallace_. Hannibal gave my
young ideas such a turn, that I used to strut in raptures up and down
after the recruiting drum and bagpipe, and wish myself tall enough to be a
soldier; while the story of Wallace poured a tide of Scottish prejudice
into my veins, which will boil along there till the flood-gates of life
shut in eternal rest."
Mr. Murdoch's removal from Mount Oliphant deprived Burns of his
instructions; but they were still continued by the father of the bard.
About the age of fourteen, he was sent to school every alternate week for
the improvement of his writing. In the mean while, he was busily employed
upon the operations of the farm; and, at the age of fifteen, was
considered as the principal laborer upon it. About a year after this he
gained three weeks of respite, which he spent with his old tutor, Murdoch,
at Ayr, in revising the English grammar, and in studying the French
language, in which he made uncommon progress. Ere his sixteenth year
elapsed, he had considerably extended his reading. The vicinity of Mount
Oliphant to Ayr afforded him facilities for gratifying what had now become
a passion. Among the books which he had perused were some plays of
Shakspeare, Pope, the works of Allan Ramsay, and a collection of songs,
which constituted his _vade mecum_. "I pored over them," says he,
"driving my cart or walking to labor, song by song, verse by verse,
carefully noticing the true, tender or sublime, from affectation and
fustian." So early did he evince his attachment to the lyric muse, in
which he was destined to surpass all who have gone before or succeeded
him.
At this period the family removed to Lochlea, in the parish of Tarbolton.
Some time before, however, he had made his first attempt in poetry. It was
a song addressed to a rural beauty, about his own age, and though
possessing no great merit as a whole, it contains some lines and ideas
which would have done honor to him at any age. After the removal to
Lochlea, his literary zeal slackened, for he was thus cut off from those
acquaintances whose conversation stimulated his powers, and whose kindness
supplied him with books. For about three years after this period, he was
busily employed upon the farm, but at intervals he paid his addresses to
the poetic muse, and with no common success. The summer of his nineteenth
year was spent in the study of mensuration, surveying, etc., at a small
sea-port town, a good distance from home. He returned to his father's
considerably improved. "My reading," says he, "was enlarged with the very
important addition of Thomson's and Shenstone's works. I had seen human
nature in a new phasis; and I engaged several of my school-fellows to keep
up a literary correspondence with me. This improved me in composition. I
had met with a collection of letters by the wits of Queen Anne's reign,
and I pored over them most devoutly; I kept copies of any of my own
letters that pleased me, and a comparison between them and the composition
of most of my correspondents flattered my vanity. I carried this whim so
far, that though I had not three farthings' worth of business in the
world, yet almost every post brought me as many letters as if I had been a
broad, plodding son of day-book and ledger."
His mind, peculiarly susceptible of tender impressions, was continually
the slave of some rustic charmer. In the "heat and whirlwind of his love,"
he generally found relief in poetry, by which, as by a safety-valve, his
turbulent passions were allowed to have vent. He formed the resolution of
entering the matrimonial state; but his circumscribed means of subsistence
as a farmer preventing his taking that step, he resolved on becoming a
flax-dresser, for which purpose he removed to the town of Irvine, in 1781.
The speculation turned out unsuccessful; for the shop, catching fire, was
burnt, and the poet returned to his father without a sixpence. During his
stay at Irvine he had met with Ferguson's poems. This circumstance was of
some importance to Burns, for it roused his poetic powers from the torpor
into which they had fallen, and in a great measure finally determined the
_Scottish_ character of his poetry. He here also contracted some
friendships, which he himself says did him mischief; and, by his brother
Gilbert's account, from this date there was a serious change in his
conduct. The venerable and excellent parent of the poet died soon after
his son's return. The support of the family now devolving upon Burns, in
conjunction with his brother he took a sub-lease of the farm of Mossgiel,
in the parish of Mauchline. The four years which he resided upon this farm
were the most important of his life. It was here he felt that nature had
designed him for a poet; and here, accordingly, his genius began to
develop its energies in those strains which will make his name familiar
to all future times, the admiration of every civilized country, and the
glory and boast of his own.
The vigor of Burns's understanding, and the keenness of his wit, as
displayed more particularly at masonic meetings and debating clubs, of
which he formed one at Mauchline, began to spread his fame as a man of
uncommon endowments. He now could number as his acquaintance several
clergymen, and also some gentlemen of substance; amongst whom was Mr.
Gavin Hamilton, writer in Mauchline, one of his earliest patrons. One
circumstance more than any other contributed to increase his notoriety.
"Polemical divinity," says he to Dr. Moore in 1787, "about this time was
putting the country half mad; and I, ambitious of shining in
conversation-parties on Sundays, at funerals, etc., used to puzzle
Calvinism with so much heat and indiscretion, that I raised a hue-and-cry
of heresy against me, which has not ceased to this hour." The farm which
he possessed belonged to the Earl of Loudon, but the brothers held it in
sub-lease from Mr. Hamilton. This gentleman was at open feud with one of
the ministers of Mauchline, who was a rigid Calvinist. Mr. Hamilton
maintained opposite tenets; and it is not matter of surprise that the
young farmer should have espoused his cause, and brought all the resources
of his genius to bear upon it. The result was _The Holy Fair_, _The
Ordination_, _Holy Willie's Prayer_, and other satires, as much
distinguished for their coarse severity and bitterness, as for their
genius.
The applause which greeted these pieces emboldened the poet, and
encouraged him to proceed. In his life, by his brother Gilbert, a very
interesting account is given of the occasions which gave rise to the
poems, and the chronological order in which they were produced. The
exquisite pathos and humor, the strong manly sense, the masterly command
of felicitous language, the graphic power of delineating scenery, manners,
and incidents, which appear so conspicuously in his various poems, could
not fail to call forth the admiration of those who were favored with a
perusal of them. But the clouds of misfortune were gathering darkly above
the head of him who was thus giving delight to a large and widening circle
of friends. The farm of Mossgiel proved a losing concern; and an amour
with Miss Jane Armour, afterwards Mrs. Burns, had assumed so serious an
aspect, that he at first resolved to fly from the scene of his disgrace
and misery. One trait of his character, however, must be mentioned. Before
taking any steps for his departure, he met Miss Armour by appointment,
and gave into her hands a written acknowledgment of marriage, which, when
produced by a person in her situation, is, according to the Scots' law, to
be accepted as legal evidence of an _irregular_ marriage having really
taken place. This the lady burned, at the persuasion of her father, who
was adverse to a marriage; and Burns, thus wounded in the two most
powerful feelings of his mind, his love and pride, was driven almost to
insanity. Jamaica was his destination; but as he did not possess the money
necessary to defray the expense of his passage out, he resolved to publish
some of his best poems, in order to raise the requisite sum. These views
were warmly promoted by some of his more opulent friends; and a
sufficiency of subscribers having been procured, one of the finest volumes
of poetry that ever appeared in the world issued from the provincial
press of Kilmarnock.
It is hardly possible to imagine with what eager admiration and delight
they were every where received. They possessed in an eminent degree all
those qualities which invariably contribute to render any literary work
quickly and permanently popular. They were written in a phraseology of
which all the powers were universally felt, and which being at once
antique, familiar, and now rarely written, was therefore fitted to serve
all the dignified and picturesque uses of poetry, without making it
unintelligible. The imagery and the sentiments were at once natural,
impressive, and interesting. Those topics of satire and scandal in which
the rustic delights; that humorous imitation of character, and that witty
association of ideas, familiar and striking, yet not naturally allied to
one another, which has force to shake his sides with laughter; those
fancies of superstition, at which one still wonders and trembles; those
affecting sentiments and images of true religion, which are at once dear
and awful to the heart; were all represented by Burns with the magical
power of true poetry. Old and young, high and low, grave and gay, learned
and ignorant, all were alike surprised and transported.
In the mean time, a few copies of these fascinating poems found their way
to Edinburgh, and having been read to Dr. Blacklock, obtained his warmest
approbation; and he advised the author to repair to Edinburgh. Burns lost
no time in complying with this request; and accordingly, towards the end
of the year 1786, he set out for the capitol, where he was received by Dr.
Blacklock with the most flattering kindness, and introduced to every
person of taste among that excellent man's friends. Multitudes now vied
with each other in patronizing the rustic poet. Those who possessed at
once true taste and ardent philanthropy were soon united in his praise;
those who were disposed to favor any good thing belonging to Scotland,
purely because it was Scottish, gladly joined the cry; while those who had
hearts and understandings to be charmed without knowing why, when they saw
their native customs, manners, and language, made the subjects and the
materials of poesy, could not suppress that impulse of feeling which
struggled to declare itself in favor of Burns.
Thus did Burns, ere he had been many weeks in Edinburgh, find himself the
object of universal curiosity, favor, admiration, and fondness. He was
sought after, courted with attentions the most respectful and assiduous,
feasted, flattered, caressed, and treated by all ranks as the great boast
of his country, whom it was scarcely possible to honor and reward in a
degree equal to his merits.
A new edition of his poems was called for; and the public mind was
directed to the subject by Henry Mackenzie, who dedicated a paper in the
_Lounger_ to a commendatory notice of the poet. This circumstance will
ever be remembered to the honor of that polished writer, not only for the
warmth of the eulogy he bestowed, but because it was the first printed
acknowledgment which had been made to the genius of Burns. The copyright
was sold to Creech for L100; but the friends of the poet advised him to
forward a subscription. The patronage of the Caledonian Hunt, a very
influential body, was obtained. The list of subscribers rapidly rose to
1500, many gentlemen paying a great deal more than the price of the
volume; and it was supposed that the poet derived from the subscription
and the sale of his copyright a clear profit of at least L700.
The conversation of Burns, according to the testimony of all the eminent
men who heard him, was even more wonderful than his poetry. He affected no
soft air nor graceful motions of politeness, which might have ill accorded
with the rustic plainness of his native manners. Conscious superiority of
mind taught him to associate with the great, the learned, and the gay,
without being overawed into any such bashfulness as might have rendered
him confused in thought, or hesitating in elocution. He possessed withal
an extraordinary share of plain common sense, or mother-wit, which
prevented him from obtruding upon persons, of whatever rank, with whom he
was admitted to converse, any of those effusions of vanity, envy, or
self-conceit, in which authors who have lived remote from the general
practice of life, and whose minds have been almost exclusively confined to
contemplate their own studies and their own works, are but too prone to
indulge. In conversation, he displayed a sort of intuitive quickness and
rectitude of judgment, upon every subject that arose. The sensibility of
his heart, and the vivacity of his fancy, gave a rich coloring to whatever
opinions he was disposed to advance; and his language was thus not less
happy in conversation than in his writings. Hence those who had met and
conversed with him once, were pleased to meet and to converse with him
again and again.
For some time he associated only with the virtuous, the learned, and the
wise, and the purity of his morals remained uncontaminated. But
unfortunately he fell, as others have fallen in similar circumstances. He
suffered himself to be surrounded by persons who were proud to tell that
they had been in company with Burns, and had seen Burns as loose and as
foolish as themselves. He now also began to contract something of
arrogance in conversation. Accustomed to be among his associates what is
vulgarly but expressively called "the cock of the company," he could
scarcely refrain from indulging in a similar freedom and dictatorial
decision of talk, even in the presence of persons who could less patiently
endure presumption.
After remaining some months in the Scottish metropolis, basking in the
noontide sun of a popularity which, as Dugald Stewart well remarks, would
have turned any head but his own, he formed a resolution of returning to
the shades whence he had emerged, but not before he had perambulated the
southern border. On the 6th of May, 1787, he set out on his journey, and,
visiting all that appeared interesting on the north of the Tweed,
proceeded to Newcastle and other places on the English side. He returned
in about two months to his family at Mauchline; but in a short period he
again set out on an excursion to the north, where he was most flatteringly
received by all the great families. On his return to Mossgiel he completed
his marriage with Miss Armour. He then concluded a bargain with Mr. Miller
of Dalswinton, for a lease of the farm of Elliesland, on advantageous
terms.
Burns entered on possession of this farm at Whit-Sunday, 1788. He had
formerly applied with success for an excise commission, and during six
weeks of this year, he had to attend to the business of that profession at
Ayr. His life for some time was thus wandering and unsettled; and Dr.
Currie mentions this as one of his chief misfortunes. Mrs. Burns came
home to him towards the end of the year, and the poet was accustomed to
say that the happiest period of his life was the first winter spent in
Elliesland. The neighboring farmers and gentlemen, pleased to obtain for a
neighbor the poet by whose works they had been delighted, kindly sought
his company, and invited him to their houses. Burns, however, found an
inexpressible charm in sitting down beside his wife, at his own fireside;
in wandering over his own grounds; in once more putting his hand to the
spade and the plough; in farming his enclosures, and managing his cattle.
For some months he felt almost all that felicity which fancy had taught
him to expect in his new situation. He had been for a time idle; but his
muscles were not yet unbraced for rural toil. He now seemed to find a joy
in being the husband of the mistress of his affections, and in seeing
himself the father of children such as promised to attach him for ever to
that modest, humble, and domestic life, in which alone he could hope to be
permanently happy. Even his engagements in the service of excise did not,
at first, threaten either to contaminate the poet or to ruin the farmer.
From various causes, the farming speculation did not succeed. Indeed, from
the time he obtained a situation under government, he gradually began to
sink the farmer in the exciseman. Occasionally he assisted in the rustic
occupations of Elliesland, but for the most part he was engaged in very
different pursuits. In his professional perambulations over the moors of
Dumfries-shire he had to encounter temptations which a mind and
temperament like his found it difficult to resist. His immortal works had
made him universally known and enthusiastically admired; and accordingly
he was a welcome guest at every house, from the most princely mansion to
the lowest country inn. In the latter he was too frequently to be found as
the presiding genius, and master of the orgies. However, he still
continued at intervals to cultivate the muse; and, besides a variety of
other pieces, he produced at this period the inimitable poem of Tam
O'Shanter. Johnson's Miscellany was also indebted to him for the finest of
its lyrics. One pleasing trait of his character must not be overlooked. He
superintended the formation of a subscription library in the parish, and
took the whole management of it upon himself. These institutions, though
common now, were not so short at the period of which we write; and it
should never be forgotten that Burns was amongst the first, if not the
very first, of their founders in the rural districts of southern Scotland.
Towards the close of 1791 he finally abandoned his farm; and obtaining an
appointment to the Dumfries division of excise, he repaired to that town
on a salary of L70 per annum. All his principal biographers concur in
stating that after settling in Dumfries his moral career was downwards.
Heron, who had some acquaintance with the matter, says, "His dissipation
became still more deeply habitual; he was here more exposed than in the
country to be solicited to share the revels of the dissolute and the idle;
foolish young men flocked eagerly about him, and from time to time pressed
him to drink with them, that they might enjoy his wit. The Caledonia Club,
too, and the Dumfries-shire and Galloway Hunt, had occasional meetings in
Dumfries after Burns went to reside there: and the poet was of course
invited to share their conviviality, and hesitated not to accept the
invitation. In the intervals between his different fits of intemperance,
he suffered the keenest anguish of remorse, and horribly afflictive
foresight. His Jane behaved with a degree of conjugal and maternal
tenderness and prudence, which made him feel more bitterly the evil of his
misconduct, although they could not reclaim him."