structors.

from the ground by the aid and example of others, but, when fairly launched into the air, and made sensible of its own intrinsic buoyancy, exultation in the discovery urges it to a higher flight than had been achieved by its inWe need not be surprised, therefore, if in the most original poets, vestiges of imitation are occasionally observed. In Virgil they are frequent; and not less so in Milton, though he was superior in invention perhaps to all other poets. In Burns they are wonderfully rare, when we consider the comparative disadvantages under which he laboured. The great writers just mentioned were, by a regular education, in some measure bred to poetry. The best models were put into their hands: they were taught what to attempt, and what to avoid, and, above all, to beware of the servility of imitation. But Burns set out without a guide: his understanding had to discriminate and form rules for itself: and the spark of his genius, with no gentle breath to cherish it into a flame, waited to be kindled by the passing breeze. He seems always to have been conscious of a strength of talents beyond what he observed around him, but he was ignorant of its extent, and afraid to listen to the persuasions of his consciousness. While other poets, therefore, began with imitating the masters of their art, the first aspirations of Burns were to make some approximation to the songs

of the Evergreen, or the poems of Ferguson and Ramsay. Yet, though he borrowed from these authors the form of some of his earlier compositions, the moment he began to write, and to feel the impulse of his own original powers, he scorned to be indebted to them for any thing more. Having once entered the path, which they had opened to him, he trod it in a manner entirely his own, and can no more be charged with imitation, in adopting what others had found a convenient vehicle for their thoughts, than the epic or dramatic poets who divide their works after the common example, into books or acts. It might be expected that the ideas of those authors, whom Burns had read with so voracious a relish, at an age when impressions are the strongest, should have blended themselves with his own; and when he began to write, have been insensibly produced as original notions. This has seldom happened; but in a few instances we find a resemblance to prior compositions, strong enough to justify a presumption, that it may have proceeded from the cause which has been described. On comparing the two following quotations, the similarity of the thought is apparent.

"But gallant Roger, like a soger,
Stood, and bravely fought, man;
I'm wae to tell, at last he fell,

But mae down wi' him brought, man.
At point of death, wi' his last breath,
Some standing round in ring, man,
On's back lying flat, he wav'd his hat,
And cried, God save the King, man."
SKIRVING,

"But bring a Scotchman frae his hill,
Clap in his cheek a Highland gill,
Say, such is Royal George's will,

And there's the foe;

He has nae thought but how to kill
Twa at a blow.

Nae cauld faint-hearted doubtings teaze him,
Death comes, wi' fearless e'e he sees him ;
Wi' bluidy hand, a welcome gies him ;

An when he fa's,

His latest draught o' breathing lea'es him
In faint huzzas!"

BURNS.

The first of these passages presents the picture of an individual, and the second that of a class. Both are highly animated; but in warmth of poetical imagery, that of Burns must be allowed the superiority.

There is a considerable similarity between the "Elegy on Poor Mailie," and the ballad of the

"Ewie wi' the crooked horn," though it consists rather in the general strain and spirit of the piece, than in particular passages. The ewes of both poets seem to have been on the same footing of companionable familiarity, and objects of the same domestic tenderness.

The following lines bear a slight resemblance both in the sentiment and in the turn of expression.

"It's no the claes that we hae worn,

Frae aff her back sae aften shorn,

The loss o' thae we could hae born,"* &c. SKINNER.

"It's no the loss o' warl's gear,

That could sae bitter draw the tear," &c.

BURNS.

"Indeed I think that our guidwife

Will never get aboon't ava."

"His heart will never get aboon

His Mailie dead."

SKINNER.

BURNS.

I once asked Burns if, in composing the passages which have been quoted, he had not been insensibly indebted to the verses which are compared with them; and he answered (if I rightly recollect) that he suspected he had.

This ballad is quoted as it was usually sung in Ayrshire about the time of Burns's appearance.

may

It be observed, that when Burns employs the English exclusively, even on sublime and serious subjects, he seems to think under constraint; and that the finest of his poems are either wholly in his native dialect, which he could wield at will, or those where he gradually slides into English, only after his fancy had been elevated to a contempt of obstruction, and his ideas had begun to flow in the channel which his mind had selected, while enjoying the utmost ease and freedom in its operations. Of this description are the "Vision," and the "Cotter's Saturday Night." It may be doubted, however, if the change, even when he excels in both styles, be altogether agreeable; as it implies an acknowledgement that English is the language best suited to the occasion, and that the best has not been uniformly adopted.

Burns once informed me, in describing his mode of composition, that having the advantage of a most exact and retentive memory, he never committed his verses to writing, till he had touched and re touched them in his mind, and had brought them to that state in which he would admit of no farther alteration. This by no means contradicts his assertion that they were "the effect of easy composition, but of laborious correction" It only shews that the labour was mentally performed. The same me