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TO MR MURRAY.

SEPARATION FROM HIS WIFE.

serve per baps more easily than nearer connexions. For my | who, considering her late conduct, is the very last person own part, I am violent, but not malignant; for only fresh

that any friend of her husband ought to compliment. We provocations can awaken my resentments. To you, who are colder and more concentrated, I would just hint,

shall have more to say on this subject next Saturday. that you may sometimes mistake the depth of a cold

In a letter to his publisher, Mr Murray, Lord Byron anger for dignity, and a worse feeling for duty. I assure

Jays down the rules which be announces his intention to you that I bear you now (whatever I may have done) no adhere to in prosecuting his studies. We shall entitle resentment wbatever. Remember, that if you have injured them me in aught, this forgiveness is something; and that, if I

BYRON'S RULES OF LITERARY CONDUCT. have injured you, it is something more still, if it be true, as the moralists say, that the most offending are the least forgising.

Ravenna, 24th Sept. 1821. “ Whether the offence has been solely on my side, or re

“ I have been thinking over our late correspondence, and ciprocal, or on yours chiefly, I have ceased to reflect upon wish to propose to you the following articles for our future: any but two things-viz. that you are the mother of my “Istly. That you shall write to me of yourself, of the child, and that we shall never meet again. I think, if you health, wealth, and welfare of all friends ; but of me (quoad also consider the two corresponding points with reference me) little or nothing. to myself, it will be better for all three. Yours ever, “20ly. That you shall send me soda-powders, tooth

“ Noel Byron." powder, tooth-brushes, or any such anti-odontalgic or che

mical articles, as heretofore, ad libitum,' upon being reimSome readers will perhaps be disappointed that Moore bursed for the same. has scarcely alluded at all to the charges which Lady “3dly. That you shall not send me any modern, or (as Byron and her friends have recently advanced against they are called) new publications, in English, whatsoever, the deceased poet. He has given Lady Byron’s “ Letter,” save and excepting any writing, prose or verse, of (or reaor “Remarks,” at the end of the volume, without any Campbell

, Rogers, Gifford, Joanna Baillie, Irving (the

sonably presumed to be of) Walter Scott, Crabbe, Moore, comment; and he carefully abstains from entering the lists

American,) Hoyg, Wilson (Isle of Palms man,) or any with Thomas Campbell. This may be prudent in so far especial single work of fancy which is thought to be of conas he himself is concerned, but we doubt whether it is siderable merit; Voyages and Travels, provided that they generous towards his departed friend. This duty, we are neither in Greece, Spain, Asia Minor, Albania, nor Italy, think, became more imperative on the biographer, when will be welcome. Having travelled the countries mentioned, we see him giving a place in his work to such a passage ther which I desire to know about them. —No other English

I know that what is said of them can convey nothing faras the following:

works whatsoever. BYRON'S ACCOUNT OF THE CAUSES WHICH LED TO HIS 4thly. That you send me no periodical works whatso

ever-10 Edinburgh, Quarterly, Monthly, nor any review, “The chief subject of our conversation, when alone, was magazine, or newspaper, English or foreign, of any descriphis marriage, and the load of obloquy which it bad brought tion. upon him. He was most anxious to know the worst that “5thly. That you send me no opinions whatsoever, either had been alleged of his conduct; and as this was our first good, bad, or indifferent, of yourself, or your friends, or opportunity of speaking together on the subject, I did not others, concerning any work, or works, of mine, past, prehesitate to put his candour most searchingly to the proof, sent, or to come. not only by enumerating the various charges I had heard “6thly. That all negotiations in matters of business bebrought against bim by others, but by specifying such tween you and me pass through the medium of the Hon. portions of these charges as I had been inclined to think not Douglas Kinnaird, my friend and trustee, or Mr Hobincredible myself. To all this be listened with patience, house, as alter ego,’and tantamount to myself during my and answered with the most unhesitating frankness, laugh- absence-or presence. ing to scorn the tales of unmanly outrage related of him,

“Some of these propositions may at first seem strange, but but at the same time acknowledging that there had been in they are well founded. The quantity of trash I have received his conduct but too much to blame and regret, and stating one

as books is incalculable, and neither amused nor instructed. or two occasions, daring his domestic life, when he had been

Reviews and magazines are at the best but ephemeral and irritated into letting the breath of bitter words' escape him superficial reading :—who thinks of the grand article of last words, rather those of the unquiet spirit that possessed year in any given Review ? In the next place, if they regard him than his own, and which he now evidently remembered myself, they tend to increase egotism. It favourable

, I do with a degree of remorse and pain, which might well have not deny that the praise elates, and if unfavourable, that the entitled them to be forgotten by others. It was at the abuse irritates. The latter may conduct ine to inflict a spesame time manifest, that, whatever admissions be might be

cies of satire, which would neither do good to you nor to inclined to make respecting his own delinquencies, the

your friends: they may smile now, and so may you ; but if inordinate measure of the punishment dealt out to him had I took you all in hand, it would not be difficult to cut you sunk deeply into his mind; and with the usual effect of up like gourds. I did as much by as powerful people at such injustice, drove him also to be unjust himself-so much nineteen years old, and I know little as yet in three-andso, indeed, as to impute to the quarter to which he now thirty, which should prevent me from making all your ribs traced all his ill fate, a feeling of fixed hostility to himself, gridirons for your hearts, if such were my propensity : but which would not rest, he thought, even at his grave, but it is not ; therefore let me hear none of your provocations. continue to persecute his memory, as it was now embitter- If any thing occurs so very gross as to require my notice, I ing his life. So strong was this impression upon him, that,

shall hear of it from my legal friends. For the rest, I merely during one of our few intervals of seriousness, he conjured request to be left in ignorance. me, by our friendship, if, as he both felt and hoped, I “ The same applies to opinions, good, bad, indifferent, of should survive him, not to let unmerited censure settle upon persons in conversation or correspondence. These do not his name, but, while I surrendered him up to condemnation interrupt

, but they soil, the current of my mind. I am senwhere he deserved it, to vindicate him where aspersed. sitive enough, but not till I am troubled ; and here I am How groundless and wrongful were these apprehensions beyond the touch of the short arms of literary England, the early death which he so often predicted and sighed for except the few feelers of the polypus that crawl over the has enabled us, unfortunately, but too soon to testify. So channels in the way of extract. far from having to defend him against any such assailants,

“ All these precautions in England would be useless; the an unworthy voice or two, from persons more injurious as libeller or the flatterer would there reach me in spite of all; friends than as enemies, is all that I find raised in hostility but in Italy we know little of literary England, and think to his name; while by few, I am inclined to think, would less, except what reaches us through some garbled and brief a generous amnesty over his grave be more readily and cor

extract in some miserable gazette. For two years (excepting dially concurred in than by her, among whose numerous

two or three articles cut out and sent to you by the post) virtues a forgiving charity towards himself was the only never read a newspaper which was not forced upon me by one to which she had not yet taught him to render justice.

some accident; and know, upon the whole, as little of EngThe last two sentences of the above extract are to us

laud as you do of Italy, and God knows that is little enough,

with all your travels, &c. &c. &c. The English travellers rather unintelligible. If they mean any thing, they imply know Italy as you know Guernsey; how much is that a sneer at Campbell, and a compliment to Lady Byron, “If any thing occurs so violently gross or personal as

upon to

requires notice, Mr Douglas Kinnaird will let me know ; arguments. I believe she was right. I must put more but of praise, I desire to hear nothing.

love into Sardanapalus' than I intended. I speak, of “ You will say, “ To what tends all this?' I will answer course, if the times will allow me leisure. That if will THAT ;-to keep my mind free and unbiassed by all paltry bardly be a peace-maker. and personal irritabilities of praise or censure-to let my

January 14, 1821. genius take its natural direction, while my feelings are like the dead, who know nothing and feel nothing of all or aught lines of the intended tragedy of Sardanapalus. Rode out

“ Turned over Seneca's tragedies. Wrote the opening that is said or done in their regard. “ If you can observe these conditions, you will spare your- dined-wrote some more of my tragedy.

some miles into the forest. Misty and rainy. Returnedself and others some pain ; let me not be worked

“ Read Diodorus Siculus-turned over Seneca, and some rise up; for if I do, it will not be for a little. If you can

other books. not observe these conditions, we shall cease to be correspond

Wrote some more of the tragedy. Took a ents,– but not friends, for I shall always be yours ever and glass of grog: After having ridden hard in rainy weather, truly,

Byron,

and scribbled, and scribbled again, the spirits (at least mine) P.S. I have taken these resolutions not from any irri- need a little exhilaration, and I don't like laudanum now as tation against you or yours; but simply upon retlection that I used to do. So I have mixed a glass of strong waters all reading, either praise or censure, of myself has done me Therefore and thereunto I conclude this day's diary.

and single waters, which I shall now proceed to empty. harm. When I was in Switzerland and Greece, I was out of the way of hearing either, and how I wrote there !-In

“ The effect of all wines and spirits upon me is, howItaly I am out of the way of it too; but latterly, partly ever, strange. It settles, but it makes me gloomy-gloomy through my fault, and partly through your kindness in at the very moment of their effect, and not gay hardly ever. wishing to send me the newest and best periodical publica- But it composes for a time, though sullenly. tions, I have had a crowd of Reviews, &c., thrust upon me,

January 15, 1821. which have bored me with their jargon, of one kind or an- « Weatber fine. Received visit. Rode out into the other, and taken off my attention from greater objects. You forest-fired pistols. Returned home-dined-dipped into have also sent me a parcel of trash of poetry, for no reason a volume of Mitford's Greece-wrote part of a scene of that I can conceive, unless to provoke me to write a new • Sardanapalus.' Went out-heard some music-heard • English Bards.' Now this I wish to avoid; for if ever I some politics. More ministers from the other Italian do, it will be a strong production ; and I desire peace as powers gone to Congress. War seems certain-in that case, long as the fools will keep their nonsense out of my way." it will be a savage one. Talked over various important

Containing as this volume does, like its predecessor, matters with one of the initiated. At ten and half returned much more of the original letters and memoranda of

home. Byron, than of Moore's more laboured and polished, but 1814, Moore" the poet' par excellence, and he deserves it

“ I have just thought of something odd. In the year far feebler narrative, almost every page teems with ori- and I were going together, in the same carriage, to dine ginal and striking observations, and graphic and power with Earl Grey, the Capo Politico of the remaining whigs. ful sketches. What, for example, could be more perfect Murray, the magnificent-the illustrious publisher of that of its kind than the following rapid etching, betraying, name—had just sent me a Java Gazette, I know not why, by a few strokes, the band of a master ?

or wherefore. Pulling it out, by way of curiosity, we

found it to contain a dispute the said Java Gazette-on BYRON'S AccounT OF PINDEMONTE.

Moore's merits and mine. I think, if I had been there, “ To-day, Pindemonte, the celebrated poet of Verona, that I could have saved them the trouble of disputing on called on me; he is a little thin man, with acute and plea- the subject. But there is fame for you at six-and-twenty! sing features; his address good and gentle; his appearance Alexander had conquered India at the same age; but I altogether very philosophical; his age about sixty, or more. doubt if he was disputed about, or his conquests compared He is one of their best going. I gave him Forsyth, as he with those of Indian Bacchus, at Java. speaks, or reads rather, a little English, and will find there “ It was great fame to be named with Moore; greater to a favourable account of himself. He enquired after his old be compared with him; greatest pleasure, at least—to be Cruscan friends, Parsons, Greathead, Mrs Piozzi, and with him ; and, surely an odd coincidence, that we should Merry, all of whom he had known in his youth. I gave be dining together while they were quarrelling about us him as bad an account of them as I could, answering, as beyond the equinoctial line. the false • Solomon Lob' does to · Totterton' in the farce, « Well, the same evening I met Lawrence the painter, * all gone dead,' and d-d by a satire more than twenty and heard one of Earl Grey's daughters-a fine, tall, spirityears ago; that the name of their extinguisher was Gifford; looking girl, with much of the patrician thorough-bred look that they were but a sad set of scribes after all, and no great of her father, which I dote upon--play on the harp, so things in any other way. He seemed, as was natural, very modestly and ingeniously, that she lookid music. Well, I much pleased with this account of his old acquaintances, would rather have had my talk with Lawrence-who talked and went away greatly gratified with that, and Mr For- delightfully—and heard the girl, than have had all the fame syth's sententious paragraph of applause in his own (Pin- of Moore and me put together. demonte's) favour. After having been a little libertine in “ The only pleasure of fame is, that it paves the way to his youth, he is grown devout, and takes prayers, and talks pleasure ; and the more intellectual our pleasure, the better to himself, to keep off the devil; but for all that, he is a for the pleasure and for us too. It was, however, agreevery nice little old gentleman."

able to have heard our fame before dinner, and a girl's harp

after." We subjoin a specimen of the manner in which Byron kept his diary. It places the very man before us : Several pieces of unpublished poetry, of great beauty AN EXTRACT FROM BYRON'S DIARY.

and interest, are scattered throughout the volume. We “Sketched the outline and Drams. Pers, of an intended have room for only the following stanzas : tragedy of Sardanapalus, which I have for some time meditated. Took the names from Diodorus Siculus-I know the history of Sardanapalus, and have known it “Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story, since I was twelve years old and read over a passage in the The days of our youth are the days of our glory; ninth vol. octavo of Mitford's Greece, where he rather And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty, vindicates the memory of this last of the Assyrians. Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

“ Dined-news come-the Powers mean to war with the peoples. The intelligence seems positive-let it be so-they “What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinwill be beaten in the end. The king-times are fast finish- kled ? ing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like 'Tis but as a dead flower with May-dew besprinkled. mist; but the peoples will conquer in the end. I shall not Then away with all such from the head that is hoary! live to see it, but I foresee it.

What care' I for the wreath that can only give glory? “I carried Teresa the Italian translation of Grillparzer's Sappho, which she promises to read. She quarrelled with “Oh, Fame ! if I e'er took delight in thy praises, me, because I said that love was not the loftiest theme for 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, true tragedy; and, having the advantage of her native lan- Than to see the bright eyes of the dear One discover guage, and natural female eloquence, she overcame my fewer | She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.

STANZAS.

THE BROOM SAE GREEN

There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee;

Wi' rocks o' the Nevis and Garny
Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;

We'd rattle him off frae our shore,
When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story, Or lull him asleep in a cairny,
I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory."

An' sing him-Lochaber no more!

Stanes an' bullets an'a', Having now exerted ourselves, to the best of our ability,

Bullets an’stanes an'a': to take off the first edge of our readers' curiosity, we shall

We'll finish the Corsican callan return to this important work more methodically and

Wi' stanes an' bullets an' a'! argumentatively next week.

“ For the Gordon is good in a hurry,

An' Campbell is steel to the bane,

An' Grant, an' M'Kenzie, an' Murray, Songs ; by the Ettrick Shepherd. Now first Collected.

An' Cameron will hurkle to nane; Edinburgh. William Blackwood. 1831. 12mo. The Stuart is sturdy an' loyal, Having been favoured with a copy of this work in

An' sae is M.Leod an' M'Kay; sheets, we should have noticed it sooner, had our Christ

An' I, their gudebrither, M.Donald,

Shall ne'er be the last in the fray! mas or New Year's Day number contained reviews. We

Brogues an' brochin an'a', now hasten to introduce it to the acquaintance of our

Brochin an' brogues an'a'; readers, fully satisfied that it will speedily acquire an ex

An' up wi’ the bonny blue bonnet, tensive and well-merited popularity.

The kilt an' the feather an' a' !"* Having so recently taken occasion to speak of the Shep

In a different strain, full of tenderness and simplicity, herd's peculiar talents, we shall not revert to the subject is the following beautiful little lyric: at present; but, as the best mode of recommending the volume before us to the favour of our readers, we shall enrich our columns with a few of its songs, together Is my greatest favourite at present,-probably because the air is with the graphic and characteristic notes with which my own, as well as the verses ; for I find I have a particular facility they are accompanied.

in approving of such things. It is beautifully set by Bishop, in Gould. We shall begin with the first song in the volume. It ing and D'Almaine's Select Scottish Melodies. is full of that spirit-stirring humour which the Scotch

“ Lang I sat by the broom sae green, people are fond of mingling with their patriotism. The

An' 0, my heart was eerie ! notes which accompany it are curious and amusing:

For aye this strain was breathed within,

Your laddie will no come near ye!
DONALD MACDONALD.

Lie still, thou wee bit fluttering thing, « I place this song the first, not on account of any intrinsic merit

What means this weary wavering ? that it possesses,-for there it ranks rather low,-but merely because

Nae heart returns thy raptured spring, it was my first song, and exceedingly popular when it first appeared.

Your laddie will no come near ye !
I wrote it when a barefooted lad herding lambs on the Black house
Heights, in utter indignation at the threatened invasion from France,

“ His leifu' sang the robin sung But after it had run through the Three Kingdoms, like fire set to

On the bough that hung sae near me, heather, for ten or twelve years, no one ever knew or enquired who

Wi' tender grief my heart was wrung, was the author.-It is set to the old air, Woo'd an' married an'a.'

For 0, the strain was dreary !
“ My name it is Donald Macdonald,

The robin's sang it couldnae be
I leeve in the Heelands sae grand ;

That gart the tear-drap blind my ee;
I hae follow'd our banner, and will do,

How ken’d the wee bird on the tree
Wherever my Maker has land.

That my laddie wad no come near me?
When rankit amang the blue bonnets,
Nae danger can fear me ava;

“ The new-wean'd lamb on yonder lea
I ken that my brethren around me

It bleats out through the braken,
Are either to conquer or fa'.

The herried bird upon the tree

Mourns o'er its nest forsaken ;-
Brogues an' brochin an'a',
Brochin an' brogues an'a';

If they are wae, how weel may í ?

Nae grief like mine aneath the sky,
An' is nae her very weel aff

The lad I loe be cares nae by
Wi' her brogues an' brochin an'a'?

Though my fond heart is breaking !"
“ What though we befriendit young Charlie ? -
To tell it I dinna think shame;

• “I once heard the above song sung in the theatre at Lancaster, Poor lad, he cam to us but barely,

when the singer substituted the following lines of his own for the

last verse: An' reckon'd our mountains his hame. 'Twas true that our reason forbade us;

• For Jock Bull he is good in a hurry, But tenderness carried the day ;

And Sawney is steel to the bane,

An' wee Davie Welsh is a widdy,
Had Geordie come friendless amang us,

An' Paddy will hurkle to nane :
Wi' him we bad a' gane away.

They'll a' prove baith sturdy and loyal,
Sword an' buckler an'a',

Come dangers around them what may,
Buckler an' sword an'a';

An' I, their gudebrither, M'Donald,

Shall ne'er be the last in the fray!' &c.
Now for George we'll encounter the devil,
Wi' stvord an' buckler an'a'!

It took exceedingly well, and was three times encored, and there
was I sitting in the gallery, applauding as much as any body. My

vanity prompted me to tell a jolly Yorkshire manufacturer that “ An' 0, I'wad eagerly press him

night, that I was the author of the song. He laughed excessively at The keys o' the East to retain;

my assumption, and told the landlady that he took me for a halfFor should he gie up the possession,

crazed Scots pedlar.

“ Another anecdote concerning this song I may mention ; and I do We'll soon hae to force them again.

it with no little pride, as it is a proof of the popularity of Donald Than yield up an inch wi' dishonour,

M'Donald among a class, to inspire whom with devotion to the cause Though it were my finishing blow,

of their country was at that time a matter of no little consequence. He aye may depend on M‘Donald,

Happening upon one occasion to be in a wood in Duinfries-shire, Wi' his Heelanders a' in a row;

through which wood the highroad passed, I heard a voice singing;

and a turn of the road soon brought in sight'a soldier, who seemed Knees an' elbows an'a',

to be either travelling home upon furlough, or returning to his regiElbows an' knees an'a';

ment, When the singer approached nearer, I distinguished the notes Depend upon Donald M‘Donald,

of my own song of Donald M.Donald. As the lad proceeded with His knees an' elbows an'a'!

his song, he got more and more into the spirit of the thing, and on

coming to the end, “ Wad Bonaparte land at Fort-William,

*An' up wi' the bonny blue bonnet,

The kilt an' the feather an'a'!' Auld Europe pae longer should grane;

in the height of his enthusiasm, he hoisted his cap on the end of his I langb when I think how we'd gall him,

staff, and danced it about triumphantly. I stood ensconced behind Wi' bullet, wi' steel, an' wi' stane;

a tree, and heard and saw all without being observed."

There is a delicate and touching pathos in the two last Where echoes sing to his music's tome, lines of the second verse of the above song :

And fairies listen bebind him.

He sings of nature all in her prime,
“ How ken’d the wee bird on the tree

Of sweets that round him hover,
That my laddie wad no come near me ?"

Of mountain heath and moorland thyme,
But the Shepherd's versatility is great; and we are not

And trifles that tell the lover. aware of any species of Scotch song in which he is not

“ How wildly sweet is the minstrel's lay, at home. Let us take, as our next example, “ The

Through cliffs and wild woods ringing, Women Fo'k,” a ballad we have heard bim sing a hun

For, ah! there is love to beacon his way, dred times, with all a bard's enthusiasm, in the presence

And hope in the song he's singing ! of many a fair and smiling damsel; and heartily do we The bard may indite, and the minstrel sing, agree with him in declaring that no one else will ever

And maidens may chorus it rarely;

But unless there be love in that heart within, sing it so well again :

The ditty will charm but sparely." THE WOMEN FO'K. " The air of this song is my own. It was first set to music by

This is different from Moore's “ Minstrel Boy,” but Heather, and most beautifully set too. It was afterwards set by it is scarcely inferior. Our readers will peruse the folDewar, whether with the same accompaniments or not, I have forgot. lowing with interest : It is my own favourite humorous song, when forced to sing by ladies against my will, which too frequently happens; and, not withstand

0, WEEL BEFA' THE MAIDEN GAY. ing iny wood-notes wild, it will never be sung by any so well again.- " This song was written at Elleray, Mr Wilson's seat in Westmore. For the air, see the Border Garland.

land, where a number of my very best things were written. There “O sairly may I rue the day

was a system of competition went on here, the most delightful that I fancied first the womenkind;

I ever engaged in. Mr Wilson and I had a Queen's Wake every wet For aye sinsyne I ne'er can hae

day-a fair set-to who should write the best poem between breakfast Ae quiet thought or peace o’mind!

and dinner, and, if I am any judge, these friendly competitions proThey hae plagued my heart an' pleased my ee,

duced several of our best poems, if not the best ever written on the An' teased an' Hatter'd me at will,

same subjects before. Mr Wilson, as well as Sonthey and Words But aye, for a' their witcherye,

worth, had all of them a way of singing out their poetry in a loud The pawky things I loe them still.

sonorous key, which was very impressive, but perfeetly ludicrous. O the women fo'k! ( the women fo'k !

Wilson, at that period, composed all his poetry, by going over it in But they hae been the wreck o' me;

that sounding strain; and in our daily competitions, although our O weary fa' the women fo'k,

rooins were not immediately adjoining, I always overheard what

progress he was making. When he came upon any grand idea, he For they winna let a body be !

opened upon it full swell, with all the energy of a fine sox-hound on “ I hae thought an' thought, but darena tell,

a hot trail. If I heard many of these vehement aspirations, they I've studied them wi' a' my skill,

weakened my hands and discouraged my heart, and I often said to

myself, Gudefaith, it's a' ower wi' me for this day! When we I've lo'ed them better than mysell,

went over the poems together in the evening, I was always anxious I've tried again to like them ill.

to learn what parts of the poem had excited the sublime breathings Wha sairest strives, will sairest rue,

which I had heard at a distance, but he never could tell me. To comprehend what nae man can ;

“There was another symptom. When we met at dinner-time, if When he has done what man can do,

Mr Wilson had not been successful in pleasing himself, he was dese He'll end at last where he began.

perate sulky for a while, though he never once missed brightening O the women fo'k, &c.

up, and making the most of the subject. I never saw better sport “ That they hae gentle forms an' meet,

than we had in comparing these poems. How manfully each stood

out for the merits of his own! But Mrs Wilson generally leaned to A man wi' halt a look may see; An' gracefu' airs, an' faces sweet,

my side, nominally at least. I wrote the “Ode to Superstition"

there, which, to give Mr Wilson justice, he approved of most unAn' waving curls aboon the bree;

equivocally. He wrote “ The Ship of the Desert" against it—1 An'smiles as saft as the young rose-bud,

thing of far greater splendour, but exceedingly extravagant. I likeAn' een sae pawky, bright, an' rare,

wise wrote “ The Stranger” and “ Isabelle" there, both to be found Wad lure the laverock frae the cludd

in the Poetic Mirror; and I know some of the poems that Mr WilBut, laddie, seek to ken nae mair!

son wrote against these too, if I were at liberty to tell. The one he O the women fo'k, &c.

wrote that day on which I composed the following song, was not a « Even but this night, nae farther gane,

song. but a little poem in his best style. What with sailing, climb

ing the mountains, driving with Bob to all the fine scenery, dining 'The date is neither lost nor lang,

with poets and great men, jymnastics (as Wilson spells it in the I tak ye witness ilka ane,

Noctes), and going to tell our friends that we were not coming to How fell they fought an' fairly dang.

dine with them—these were halcyon days, which we shall never see Their point they've carried right or wrang,

again!
Without a reason, rhyme, or law,
An' forced a man to sing a sang,

« 0, weel befa' the maiden gay,
That ne'er could sing a verse ava.

In cottage, bugbt, or penn,
O the women fo'k! O the women fo'k !

An' weel befa’ the bonny May
But they hae been the wreck o' me;

That wons in yonder glen,

W ba loes the modest truth sae weel,
O weary fa' the women fu’k,
For they wiuna let a body be."

Wha's aye sae kind, an'aye sae leal,

pure as blooming asphodel Our friend the Shepherd is not very well pleased,

Amang sae mony men! it appears, with Mr Moore, whom he flatly accuses of

0, weel beta’ the bonny thing jealousy; and, we must confess, with some show of reason,

That wons in yonder glen! when we find that the agreeable author of the “ National

“ 'Tis sweet to hear the music float Melodics” refused to sanction the publication of a song

Along the gloaming lea; like the following:

'Tis sweet to hear the blackbird's note

Come pealing frae the tree;
THE MINSTREL BOY

To see the lambkin's lightsome race-
" Was written as a per contra to Mr Moore's song to the same air.
But either he or his publishers, or both, set up their birses, and caused

The speckled kid in wanton chase

The young deer cover in lonely place, it and a great many more to be cancelled, -the most ridiculous of all things, in my opinion, I ever kuew. It was manifestly because they

Deep in her flowing den;

But sweeter far the bonny face saw mine were the best. Let them take that! as Gideon Laidlaw said when the man died who had cheated him.

That smiles in yonder glen! “ The Minstrel Boy to the glen is gone,

" O, had it no' been for the blush In its deepest dells you'll find him,

O’maiden's virgin flame,

An'

Dear beauty never had been known,

a restless and feverish curiosity hereby excited, and along An' never had a name;

with it a painful degree of shame, that we should not But aye sin' that dear thing o' blame

know places to which we are so closely bound. For all Was modeli'd by an angel's frame,

such evils which flesh is heir to, the Gazetteer of Messrs The power o' beauty reigns supreme O'er a' the sons o' men ;

Chambers is a sovereign and infallible remedy. It shall But deadliest far the sacred flame

henceforth, (that is, as soon as it is completed,) neatly Burns in a lonely glen!,

bound, occupy a constant place upon our table. We

should as soon think of displacing the Edinburgh Alma“ There's beauty in the violet's vest

nack, or the Rhyming Dictionary. In short, we do not There's hinney in the haw

know how we got on without it before, but we are certain There's dew within the rose's breast,

we cannot now dispense with it. It is like tea and potatoes, The sweetest o'them a'. The sun will rise an' set again,

which our stupid ancestors never seem to have discovered An' lace wi' burning gowd the main

that they wanted; but what a life were this if they should The rainbow bend outower the plain,

now be taken from us ! Sae lovely to the ken;

The following dissertation upon the nature and origin But lovelier far my bonny thing

of those tracts of country to which, in Scotland, the name That wons in yonder glen!”

of “ Carse” has been applied, is a fair specimen of the We have room for only one more song.

It is one

manner in which the work is executed : which, for simple pathos, is not surpassed by any other THE CARSES OF GOWRIE, STIRLING, FALKIRK, &c. in the language :

“ Modern investigation, assisted by the light of science, A FATHER'S LAMENT.

has discovered what was long a matter of justifiable con“A young friend of mine, whom I greatly admired for every manly jecture, that these various carses, or flat stretches of land, and amiable virtue, was cut off suddenly in the flower of his age,

on the margins of great rivers, have been formed by the de(Mr R—A-n.) The next time that I visited the family. position of alluvial matter, and the capricious change of the his parent's distress and expressions of fond remembrance affected

watercourses. By the discovery of the bones of large mame so deeply, that I composed the following verses in his character.

rine animals, imbedded many feet below the surface of the I likewise composed an air for it, which I thought adapted to the soil, it has been satisfactorily demonstrated that such places words. It is finely set by Bishop, in his Select Melodies.

must have been at one period—and that an epoch long sub

sequent to the supposed general mixture at the deluge “ How can you bid this heart be blithe,

within the flow of the sea. Some years ago, the perfect When blithe this heart can never be?

skeleton of a whale was found at Airthrie, in the Carse of I've lost the jewel from my crown

Stirling, many miles from the sea, or the Firth of Forth, Look round our circle, and you'll see

and a considerable distance from the present course of the That there is ane out o'the ring

river. Articles of artificial formation, such as anehors, have Who never can forgotten be

been from time to time exposed in the Carse of Falkirk, Ay, there's a blank at my right hand,

within the memory of men now alive ; and many other cirThat ne'er can be made up to me!

cumstances prove that the whole of these two beautiful

prairies have been gradually formed from the alluvium of «'Tis said as water wears the rock,

the adjacent stream. The very nature of the soils of these That time wears out the deepest line ;

two carses is probative of the theory. The land is generally It may be true wi' hearts enow,

a reddish, or at least a coloured stiff clay, capable of produBut never can apply to mine.

cing certain kinds of crops in great abundance. The most For I have learn'd to know and feel

remarkable changes in the physiognomy of the country have Though losses should forgotten be

been produced in the Carse of Gowrie and Strathearn. That still the blank at my right hand

Here the rivers Tay and Earn have doubtless altered their Can never be made up to me!

course, and circumscribed their limits in a number of ways.

The traditions of the country people, although always sus“ I blame not Providence's sway,

picious, are generally worthy of some credit, especially when For I have many joys beside,

local appearances give them countenance. It is a common And fain would I in grateful way

tradition, that the Tay, instead of forming the southern Enjoy the same, whate'er betide.

boundary of the Carse of Gowrie, formerly bounded it on A mortal thing should ne'er repine,

the north, running under the Sidlaw Hills; and it is reBut stoop to the Supreme decree;

lated that rings for the tying up of boats have been found Yet, oh! the blank at my right hand

attached to the rocks near the supposed obsolete course. Can never be made up to me!"

The usual tale is, that the Tay turned off from its present We could go on multiplying quotations of a similar

course about two miles below Perth, and, making the cir

cuit described, fell into the Firth, at the eastern extremity kind for a long while, but ex pede Herculem.

This vo

of the Carse; the Earn occupied by itself the channel of luine of Songs cannot fail to find its way over the whole

the two (now) united rivers. They ran along all the way country; and on the shelves of many a library in the down the Carse, parallel to, and at no great distance from recess of many a lowly window-on the top of many each other, winding round, and almost isolating various an antique chest of drawers, it will take its place side rising grounds which lay between them, and which, from by side with the Poems of Burns.

that circumstance, were called Inches, or islands, as Inchira, Meginch, Inchmartin, Inchmichael, Inchture, and others. A country man, having drawn a furrow with his plough

from the Tay along a low field which he wished to irriA New Gazette r of Scotland. By Robert Chambers,

gate, caused the whole river to take this direction, and to Author of the “ Picture of Scotland," and William How into the course of the Earn, leaving its former chanChambers, Author of the “ Book of Scotland.” Nos. nel bare, and detracting from the Inches their pristine I. and II. Edinburgh. Thomas Ireland. 1831. insular character. Another result has been, that the

Tay now appears to flow into the Earn as a tributary, inThis is a very neat, a very useful, and a very amusing stead of sustaining its real character as a principal. Wild work. The typography is good—the different articles and improbable as this story may appear, it is borne partly are, in general, amusing and well written ;—and, as a book out by local facts. It is the opinion of the present writers of reference, it is of great value. All our readers have, that the whole of that district of country, or space forming without doubt, experienced the teazing sensation attend the beds of the Tay and Earn, with the carses on their ant upon the rencontre in a newspaper, or history, of the banks, from that part of the Tay where it becomes shallow,

a few miles above Dundee, to the eminences which bound ñame of some district or locality in our native land, the the Carse of Strathearn on the west, was, at an early period, precise relative situation of which we cannot figure to one immense lagoon, or jungle, such as is now seen on the ourselves, either because we have forgotten it, or, for a continent of America, wherein was a trackless labyrinth of still better reason, because we never knew it. There is watercourses, pools, brushwood, and forest trees. How

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