I never had freens weel stockit in means, I never was canny for hoarding o' money, Only the muse is affected there, however, as I have hinted, and not the man; and as a song, even, and an early one to boot, the piece is not of much account. It is an off-hand skit merely a boyish freak-complimentary here and there, but without a breath of the ardent lover in it anywhere. The Bennals is a farm to the west of the parish of Tarbolton, about five miles from Lochlie. The Misses Ronald, good-looking, fairly well educated, and the daughters of a man reputed wealthy, were reigning belles for the nonce in the district. Gilbert Burns, tradition avers, wooed the elder sister, Jean, who, after a lengthened correspondence, rejected his suit because of his poverty, and gave her hand instead to John Reid, the farmer of Langlands, not far from the Bennals. The younger sister, Annie, was more according to the poet's notion, and may have received a little of his particular attention, but, even although he had now thoughts of settling down in life, and a lass with a "tocher" might have been welcome in the circumstances, he was too proud to afford her the chance of refusing him. Old man Ronald, besides, appears to have been a purse-proud and arrogant individual, such as Burns could never look on with a feeling of respect. Anyway, some years later-in November, 1789, to be particular-we find him writing to his brother William, then in Morpeth : "The only Ayrshire news that I remember in which I think you will be interested is that Mr. Ronald is bankrupt. You will easily guess that, from his insolent vanity in his sunshine of life, he will now feel a little retaliation from those who felt themselves eclipsed by him; for, poor fellow, I do not think he ever intentionally injured any one. I might indeed, perhaps, except his wife, whom he certainly has used very ill, but she is still fond of him to distraction, and bears up wonderfully-much superior to him-under this severe shock of fortune.” It was not in the nature of Robert Burns to kick any man when he was down; and although Ronald of the Bennals was of a cut such as he could never well esteem, yet we observe pleasantly from the comment there that pity occupied the writer's mind and not contempt when he thought of a neighbour's misfortune. The fact that the daughter Jean had refused his brother Gilbert was not allowed to count either. But, indeed, although he did not afford Annie Ronald the satisfaction of saying "no" to his proposal, it is likely that the poet, about this time, regarded "refusals" generally with a light heart. Why, in the famous Bachelors' Club at Tarbolton, of which he was mainly the founder, and was first president in 1780, was it not the leading rule that "Every man, proper for being a member, must have a frank, honest, open heart, above anything dirty or mean, and must be a professed lover of one or more of the female sex"? The words " one or more" are eloquent in their bearing on "proposal" and "refusal." And yet, there were lasses and lasses, involving refusals not so easily borne, as everything in this way depends on how hard the lover happens to be hit, ELLISON BEGBIE Ar the first meeting of The Bachelors' Society, in the house of John Richard (Burns in the chair), the members debated the question, "Suppose a young man, bred a farmer, but without any fortune, has it in his power to marry either of two women, the one a girl of large fortune, but neither handsome in person nor agreeable in conversation, but who can manage the household affairs of a farm well enough; the other of them a girl in every way agreeable in person, conversation, and behaviour, but without any fortune; which of them should he choose?" And although the meagre records afford no explanation, the framer of the subject may easily be guessed. The girl "every way agreeable in person, conversation, and behaviour, but without any fortune," is clearly enough Ellison Begbie, celebrated in "The Lass of Cessnock Banks" and "Bonnie Peggy Alison," whose acquaintance the poet made about this time. Five letters are extant in Burns's handwriting (though none of them carry his signature), each of them addressed to "My Dear A," or "My Dear E," and all of them couched in the language of rapturous love, and these are shrewdly accepted as documentary evidence in proof of this amour. The style of penmanship betoken their early date, but there is nothing certainly in the letters themselves to determine whether the writer actually speaks for himself, or is merely helping some one of his less able rustic brethren, by dictating love-letters for him. We know that the poet occasionally did vicarious work of this kind. There may be significance, too, in the fact that while Currie printed four of the letters in his first edition of Burns's collected writings, they were deleted from the subsequent issues of that work. In his very candid and replete autobiographical letter to Dr. Moore there is, however— although no direct statement is made-a significant passage. He is referring to this time, and says:-"The clouds of misfortune were gathering thick round my father's head; the darkest of which was-he was visibly far gone in a consumption. To crown all, a belle fille whom I adored, and who had pledged her soul to meet me in the fields. of matrimony, jilted me, with peculiar circumstances of mortification." And more than fifty years after his death, Mrs. Begg removed all doubt relative to the genuineness of the affair, by openly stating that the letters were really addressed by her brother to Miss Ellison, or Alison, Begbie, who, after some intimacy, rejected his suit, and soon married another lover. She was the daughter of a small farmer in the parish of Galston, and, when the poet made her acquaintance, was serving with a family on the banks of the Cessnock, about two miles from Lochlie. She was not a beauty, Burns admitted, but had many "charming qualities, heightened by an education much beyond anything I have ever met in any woman I ever dared to approach." The declaration doubtless has reference to the inspirer of "The Lass of Cessnock Banks," and with regard to it the Ettrick Shepherd, in his own quaint way, remarks—“There is no doubt hanging and marriage go by destiny, else Burns should have had this sensible girl." The effusion has been called a "Song of Similes," and it well deserves the name, for in it the poet has almost exhausted the beauties of Nature in drawing comparisons of its heroines. Read and note: THE LASS OF CESSNOCK BANKS. On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells; Could I describe her shape and mien ; Our lasses a' she far excels, An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. She's sweeter than the morning dawn She's stately like yon youthful ash, That grows the cowslip braes between, And drinks the stream with vigour fresh, An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn, An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. Her looks are like the vernal May, When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene, While birds rejoice on every spray; An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. Her hair is like the curling mist That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en, When flow'r-reviving rains are past; An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. Her forehead's like the show'ry bow, Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem, Just opening on its thorny stem; An' she has twa sparkling rogueish een. |