YOUR letter of the 14th of March I received in due course, but from the hurry of the season have been hitherto hindered from answering it. I will now try to give you what satisfaction I can, in regard to the particulars you mention. I cannot pretend to be very accurate in respect to the dates of the poems, but none of them, except Winter a Dirge, (which was a juvenile production,) The Death and Dying Words of Poor Maillie, and some of the songs, were composed before the year 1784. The circumstances of the poor sheep were pretty much as he has described them. He had partly by way of frolic, bought a ewe and two lambs from a neighbour, and she was tethered in a field adjoining the house at Lochlie. He and I were going out, with our teams, and our two younger brothers to drive for us, at mid-day; when Hugh Wilson, a curious looking awkward boy, clad in plaiding, came to us with much anxiety in his face, with the information that the ewe had entangled herself in the tether, and was lying in the ditch. Robert was much tickled with Huoc's appearance and postures on the occasion. Poor Maillie was set to rights, and when we returned from the plough in the evening, he repeated to me her Death and Dying Words, pretty much in the way they now stand. Among the earliest of his poems was the Epistle to Davie. Robert often composed without any regular plan. When any thing made a strong impression on his mind, so as to rouse it to poetic exertion, he would give way to the impulse, and This refers to the pieces inserted before page 76 of the Poems. embody the thought in rhyme. If he hit on two or three stanzas to please him, he would then think of proper introductory, connecting, and concluding stanzas; hence the middle of a poem was often first produced. It was, I think, in summer 1784, when in the interval of harder labour, he and I were weeding in the garden (kailyard,) that he repeated to me the principal part of this epistle. I believe the first idea of Robert becoming an author was started on this occasion. I was much pleased with the epistie, and said to him I was of opinion it would bear being printed, and that it would be well received by people of taste; that I thought it at least equal if not superior to many of Allan Ramsay's epistles; and that the merit of these, and much other Scotch poetry, seemed to consist principally in the knack of the expression, but here, there was a train of interesting sentiment, and the Scoticism of the language scarcely seemed affected, but appeared to be the natural language of the poet; that, besides, there was certainly some novelty in a poet pointing out the consolations that were in store for him when he should go a-begging. Robert seemed very well pleased with my criticism, and we talked of sending it to some magazine, but as this plan afforded no opportunity of knowing how it would take, the idea was dropped. It was, I think, in the winter following, as we were going together with carts for coal to the family fire (and I could yet point out the particular spot,) that the author first repeated to me the Address to the Deil. The curious idea of such an address was suggested to him by running over in his mind the many ludicrous accounts and representations we have, from various quar. Death ters, of this august personage. and Doctor Hornbook, though not published in the Kilmarnock edition, was produced early in the year 1785. The Schoolmaster of Tarbolton parish, to ek up the scanty subsistence allowed to tha useful class of men, had set up a shop o grocery goods. Having accidentally fall en in with some medical books, and be come most hobby-horsically attached to the study of medicine, he had added the sale of a few medicines to his little trade. He had got a shop-bill printed, at the bottom of which, overlooking his own incapacity, he had advertised, that Advice would be given in "common disorders at the shop gratis." Robert was at a mason meeting in Tarbolton, when the Do minie unfortunately made too ostentatiously venerable in the phrase, "Let us wor. a display of his medical skill. As he ship God," used by a decent, sober head parted in the evening from this mixture of a family, introducing family worship. of pedantry and physic, at the place where To this sentiment of the author the world he describes his meeting with Death, one is indebted for the Cotter's Saturday Night. of those floating ideas of apparition he The hint of the plan, and title of the poem, mentions in his letter to Dr. Moore, were taken from Fergusson's Farmer's crossed his mind: this set him to work Ingle. When Robert had not some pleafor the rest of the way home. These cir- sure in view, in which I was not thought cumstances he related when he repeated fit to participate, we used frequently to the verses to me next afternoon, as I was walk together, when the weather was fa holding the plough, and he was letting vourable, on the Sunday afternoons (those the water off the field beside me. The precious breathing times to the labouring Epistle to John Lapraik was produced part of the community,) and enjoyed such exactly on the occasion described by the Sundays as would make one regret to see author. He says in that poem, On fast- their number abridged. It was in one of en-e'en, we had a rockin. I believe he has these walks, that I first had the pleasure omitted the word rocking in the glossary. of hearing the author repeat the Cotter's It is a term derived from those primitive Saturday Night. I do not recollect to times, when the countrywomen employed have heard or read any thing by which I their spare hours in spinning on the rack, was more highly electrified. The fifth and or distaff. This simple implement is a sixth stanzas, and the eighteenth, thrilled very portable one, and well fitted to the with peculiar ecstacy through my soul. social inclination of meeting in a neigh- I mention this to you, that you may see bour's house; hence the phrase of going what hit the taste of unlettered criticism. a-rocking, or with the rock. As the con- I should be glad to know if the enlightennexion the phrase had with the implemented mind and refined taste of Mr. Roscoe, was forgotten, when the rock gave place to the spinning-wheel, the phrase came to be used by both sexes on social occasions, and men talk of going with their rocks as well as women. who has borne such honourable testimony to this poem, agrees with me in the selection. Fergusson, in his Hallow Fair of Edinburgh, I believe, likewise furnished a hint of the title and plan of the HolyFair. The farcical scene the poet there It was at one of these rockings at our describes was often a favourite field of his house when we had twelve or fifteen young observation, and the most of the incidents people with their rocks, that Lapraik's he mentions had actually passed before song beginning" When I upon thy bo- his eyes. It is scarcely necessary to mensom lean," was sung, and we were in- tion that the Lament was composed on formed who was the author. Upon this, that unfortunate passage in his matrimoRobert wrote his first epistle to Lapraik; nial history, which I have mentioned in and his second in reply to his answer. my letter to Mrs. Dunlop, after the first The verses to the Mouse and Mountain distraction of his feelings had a little subDaisy were composed on the occasions sided. The Tale of Twa Dogs was commentioned, and while the author was hold- posed after the resolution of publishing ing the plough; I could point out the par- was nearly taken. Robert had had a dog, ticular spot where each was composed. which he called Luath, that was a great Holding the plough was a favourite situ- favourite. The dog had been killed by ation with Robert for poetic composition, the wanton cruelty of some person the and some of his best verses were produced night before my father's death. Robert while he was at that exercise. Several said to me, that he should like to confer of the poems were produced for the pur- such immortality as he could bestow upon pose of bringing forward some favourite his old friend Luath, and that he had a sentiment of the author. He used to re- great mind to introduce something into mark to me, that he could not well con- the book, under the title of Stanzas to the ceive a more mortifying picture of human Memory of a quadruped Friend; but this life, than a man seeking work. In cast-plan was given up for the Tale as it now ing about in his mind how this sentiment stands. Cæsar was merely the creature might be brought forward, the elegy Man of the poet's imagination, created for the was made to mourn, was composed. Ro- purpose of holding chat with his favourite bert had frequently remarked to me that Lurth. The first time Robert heard the he thought there was something peculiar-spinnet played upon, was at the house of Dr. Lawrie, then minister of the parish of loway-Kirk, his having the curiosity to look in, his seeing a dance of witches, with the devil playing on the bagpipe to them, the scanty covering of one of the witches, which made him so far forget himself, as to cry Weel loupen, short sark!-with the melancholy catastrophe of the piece is all a true story, that can be well attested by many respectable old people in that neighbourhood. I do not at present recollect any circumstances respecting the other poems, that could be at all interesting; ever some of those I have mentioned, I am afraid, may appear trifling enough, bur you will only make use of what appears to you of consequence. poet had been with Mr. Gavin Hamilton in the morning, who said jocularly to him when he was going to church, in allusion to the injunction of some parents to their children, that he must be sure to bring him a note of the sermon at mid-day: this address to the Reverend Gentleman on his text was accordingly produced.) The Ordination; The Address to the Unco Guid; Tam Samson's Elegy; A Winter Night; Stanzas on the same Occasion as the preceding Prayer; Verses left at a Reverend Friend's House; The First Psalm; Prayer under the Pressure of violent Anguish; the First Six Verses of the Ninetieth Psalm; Verses to Miss Logan, with Beattie's Poems; To a Haggis; Address to Edinburgh; John Barleycorn; When Guilford Guid; Behind yon hills where Stinchar flows; Green grow the Rashes; Again rejoicing Nature sees; The gloomy Night; No Churchman I am. When my father feued his little property near Alloway-Kirk, the wall of the The following Poems in the first Edinchurch-yard had gone to ruin, and cattle burgh edition, were not in that published had free liberty of pasturing in it. My in Kilmarnock. Death and Dr. Hornfather, with two or three other neigh-book; the Brigs of Ayr; the Calf; (the bours, joined in an application to the town council of Ayr, who were superiors of the adjoining land, for liberty to rebuild it, and raised by subscription a sum for enclosing this ancient cemetery with a wall; hence he came to consider it as his burial-place, and we learned that reverence for it people generally have for the burial-place of their ancestors. My brother was living in Ellisland, when Captain Grose, on his peregrinations through Scotland, staid some time at Carsehouse, in the neighbourhood, with Captain Robert Riddel, of Glen-Riddel, | a particular friend of my brother's. The Antiquarian and the poet were "Unco pack and thick thegither." Robert requested of Captain Grose, when he should come to Ayrshire, that he would make a drawing of Alloway-Kirk, as it was the burial-place of his father, and where he himself had a sort of claim to lay down his bones when they should be no longer serviceable to him; and added by way of encouragement, that it was the scene of many a good story of witches and apparitions, of which he knew the Captain was very fond. The Captain agreed to the request, provided the poet would furnish a witch-story, to be printed along with it. Tam o' Shanter was produced on this occasion, and was first published in Grose's Antiquities of Scotland. The poem is founded on a traditional story The leading circumstances of a man riding home very late from Ayr, in a stormy night, his seeing a light in Al If you have never seen the first edition, it will, perhaps, not be amiss to transcribe the preface, that you may see the manner in which the Poet made his first awestruck approach to the bar of public judg ment. the first page of the Poems. I am, dear Sir, Your most obedient humble Servant, DR. CURRIE, Liverpool. To this history of the poems which are contained in this volume, it may be added, that our author appears to have made little alteration in them after their original composition, except in some few instances where considerable additions have been introduced. After he had attracted the notice of the public by his first edi tion, various criticisms were offered him on the peculiarities of his style, as well as of his sentiments; and some of these, which remain among his manuscripts, are by persons of great taste and judgment. Some few of these criticisms he adopted, but the far greater part he rejected; and, though something has by this means been lost in point of delicacy and correctness, yet a deeper impression is left of the trength and originality of his genius. The firmness of our poet's character, arising from a just confidence in his own powers, may, in part, explain his tenaciousness of his peculiar expressions; but it may be in some degree accounted for also, by the circumstances under which the poems were composed. Burns did not, like men of genius born under happier auspices, retire, in the moment of inspiration, to the silence and solitude of his study, and commit his verses to paper as they arranged themselves in his mind. Fortune did not afford him this indulgence. It was during the toils of daily labour that his fancy exerted itself; the muse, as he himself informs us, found him at the plough. In this situation, it was necessary to fix his verses on his memory, and it was often many days, nay weeks, after a poem was finished, before it was written down. During all this time, by frequent repetition, the association between the thought and the expression was confirmed, and the impartiality of taste with which written language is reviewed and retouched after it has faded on the memory, could not in such instances be exerted. The original manuscripts of many of his poems are preserved, and they differ in nothing material from the last printed edition.-Some few variations may be noticed. 1. In The Author's earnest Cry and Prayer after the stanza beginning, Erskine, a spunkie, Norland Billie, there appears, in his book of manuscripts, the following: Thee, Sodger Hugh, my watchman stented, Wert thou cottager or king! Prince or peasant ?—no such thing. 5. The Epistle to R. G. Esq. of F. that is, to R. Graham, Esq. of Fintra, also urderwent considerable alterations, as may be collected from the General Correspondence. The style of poetry was new to our poet, and, though he was fitted to excel in it, it cost him more trouble than his Scottish poetry. On the contrary, Tam o' Shanter seems to have issued perfect from the author's brain. The only considerable alteration made on reflection, is the omission of four lines, which had been inserted after the poem was finished, at the end of the dreadful catalogue of the articles found on the "haly table," and which appeared in the first edition of the poem, printed separately-They came after the line, Which even to name would be unlawfu', and are as follows, Three lawyers' tongues turn'd inside out, These lines which, independent of other objections, interrupt and destroy the emotions of terror which the preceding description had excited, were very properly left out of the printed collection, by the advice of Mr. Fraser Tytler; to which Burns seems to have paid much deference.* 6. The Address to the shade of Thomson, began in the first manuscript copy in the following manner: While cold-eye'd Spring, a virgin coy, A carpet for her youthful feet; Each creature on his bounty fed, &c. • These four lines have been inadvertently replaced in the copy of Tam o' Shanter, published in the first volume of the "Poetry, Original and Selected," of Brash and Reid, of Glasgow; and to this circumstance is owing their being noticed here. As our poet deliberately rejected them, it is hoped that no future printer will insert them By the alteration in the printed poem, may be questioned whether the poetry is much improved; the poet however has found means to introduce the shades of Dryburgh, the residence of the Earl of Buchan, at whose request these verses were written. These observations might be extended, but what are already offered will satisfy curiosity, and there is nothing of any importance that could be added. THE FOLLOWING LETTER Of Burns, which contains some hints relative to the origin of his celebrated tale of "Tam o' Shanter," the Publishers trust, will be found interesting to every reader of his works. There appears no reason to doubt of its being genuine, though it has not been inserted in his correspondence published by Dr. Currie. TO FRANCIS GROSE, ESQ. F. A. S.* AMONG the many witch stories I have heard relating to Alloway kirk, I distinctly remember only two or three. Upon a stormy night, amid whistling squalls of wind, and bitter blasts of hail; in short on such a night as the devil would chuse to take the air in; a farmer or farmer's servant was plodding and plashing homeward with his plough-irons on his shoulder, having been getting some repairs on them at a neighbouring smithy. His way lay by the kirk of Alloway, and being rather on the anxious look out in approaching a place so well known to de This Letter was first published in the Censura Literaria, 1786, and was communicated to the Editor of that work by Mr. Gilchrist of Stamford, accompanied with the following remark. "In a collection of miscellaneous papers of the Antiquary Grose, which I purchased a few years since, I found the following letter written to him by Burns, when the former was collecting the Antiquities of Scotland: When I premise it was on the second tradition that he afterwards formed the inimitable tale of 'Tam o' Shanter,' I cannot doubt of its being read with great interest. It were burning day light' to point out to a reader (and who is not a reader of Burns ?) the thoughts he after. wards transplanted into the rhythmical narrative. 0. G |