And eye the smoking, dewy lawn, Let lofty firs, and ashes cool, And view, deep-bending in the pool, Let fragrant birks in woodbines drest And, for the little songster's nest, So may, Old Scotia's darling hope, Spring, like their father's, up to prop So may thro' Albion's farthest ken, To social-flowing glasses The grace be-"Athole's honest men, And Athole's bonnie lasses!" THE KIRK OF SCOTLAND'S ALARM.* A SATIRE. A BALLAD TUNE-" PUSH ABOUT THE BRISK BOWL." RTHODOX, Orthodox,1 wha believe in Let me sound an alarm to your con- There's a heretic blast has been blawn in the wast "That what is not sense must be nonsense." VAR. Brother Scots, brother Scots. *This Poem was written a short time after the publication of Dr. M'Gill's Essay. On the 7th of August, 1789, Burns wrote to Mr. John Logan:-"I have, as you will shortly see, finished the 'Kirk's Alarm;' but now that it is done, and that I have laughed once or twice at the conceits in some of the stanzas, I am determined not to let it get to the public; so I send you this copy, the first that I have sent to Ayrshire, except some few of the stanzas which I wrote off in embryo for Gavin Hamilton, under the express provision and request, that you will only read it to a few of us, and do not, on any account, give, or permit to be taken, any copy of the ballad. If I could be of any service to Dr. M'Gill, I would do it, though it should be at a much greater expense than irritating a few bigoted priests, but I am afraid serving him in his present embarras is a task too hard for me. I have enemies enow, God knows, though I do not wantonly add to the number. Still, as I think there is some merit in two or three of the thoughts, I send it to you as a small, but sincere testimony how much and with what respectful esteem, I am, &c." 66 In December following he said to Mr. Graham of Fintray :'Though I dare say you have none of the solemn league and covenant fire, which shone so conspicuous in Lord George Gordon, and the Kilmarnock weavers, yet I think you must S 2 Dr. Mac,* Dr. Mac, you should stretch on a rack, To join faith and sense upon onie pretence, Town of Ayr, town of Ayr, it was mad I declare, Provost John is still deaf to the church's relief, D'rymple mild, D'rymple mild, tho' your heart's like a child, 10 And your life like the new driven snaw, Yet that winna save ye, auld Satan must have ye, For preaching that three's ane and twa. VAR. 2 wicked writers. have heard of Dr. M'Gill, one of the clergymen of Ayr, and his heretical book. God help him, poor man! Though he is one of the worthiest, as well as one of the ablest of the whole priesthood of the Kirk of Scotland, in every sense of that ambiguous term, yet the poor doctor and his numerous family are in imminent danger of being thrown out to the mercy of the winter winds. The inclosed ballad on that business is, I confess, too local, but I laughed myself at some conceits in it, though I am convinced in my conscience that there are a good many heavy stanzas in it too." The Kirk's Alarm' was never printed by Burns' own authority. It seems to have first appeared in a collection of his suppressed poems, published at Glasgow, in 1801. Lockhart gives the following history of the "Kirk's Alarm:"-" M'Gill and Dalrymple, the two ministers of the town of Ayr, had long been suspected of entertaining heterodox opinions on several points, particularly the doctrine of Original Sin and the Trinity; and the former at length published an essay, which was considered as demanding the notice of the church courts. More than a year * Dr. M'Gill. Robert Aiken. * Rumble John, Rumble John, mount the steps wi' a groan, Cry the book is wi' heresy cramm'd; Then lug out your ladle, deal brimstane like adle, And roar ev'ry note of the damn'd. 20 Simper James, Simper James, leave the fair Killie dames, There's a holier chase in your view; I'll lay on your head, that the pack ye'll soon lead, For puppies like you there's but few. Singet Sawney, Singet Sawney, are ye herding the penny, Unconscious what evils await? was spent in the discussions which arose out of this; and at last, Dr. M'Gill was fain to acknowledge his errors, and promise that he would take an early opportunity of apologizing for them to his congregation from the pulpit, which promise, however, he never performed. The gentry of the country took, for the most part, the side of M'Gill, who was a man of cold, unpopular manners, but of unreproached móral character, and possessed of some accomplishments, though certainly not of distinguished talents. The bulk of the lower orders espoused with far more fervid zeal the cause of those who conducted the prosecution against this erring doctor. Gavin Hamilton, and all persons of his stamp, were of course on the side of M'Gill-Auld and the Mauchline elders, with his enemies. Robert Aiken, a writer in Ayr, a man of remarkable talents, particularly in public speaking, had the principal management of M'Gill's cause before the Presbytery, and, I believe, also before the Synod. He was an intimate friend of Hamilton, and through him had about this time formed an acquaintance which soon ripened into a warm friendship with Burns. Burns was, therefore, from the beginning a zealous, as in the end he was perhaps the most effective partizan of the side on which Aiken had staked so much of his reputation." * Mr. Russell. + Mr. M'Kinlay. Mr. Moodie. Wi' a jump, yell, and howl, alarm every soul, Daddy Auld,* Daddy Auld, there's a tod in the fauld, 30 4 Tho' ye can do little skaith, ye'll be in at the death,* And gif ye canna bite, ye may bark. Davie Bluster,† Davie Bluster, if for a saint ye do muster, The corps is no nice of recruits: Yet to worth let's be just, royal blood ye might boast, If the ass was the king of the brutes. Jamy 5 Goose, Jamy 5 Goose, ye hae made but toom roose, In hunting the wicked Lieutenant; But the Doctor's your mark, for the L-d's haly ark, He has cooper'd and caw'd a wrang pin in't. 40 Poet Willie,§ Poet Willie, gie the Doctor a volley, Wi' your "liberty's chain" and your wit; O'er Pegasus' side ye ne'er laid astride, Ye but smelt, man, the place where he sh-t.6 Andro Gouk,|| Andro Gouk, ye may slander the book, And the book no the waur, let me tell ye! VAR. 3 Hannibal's. * Douglas Heron and Co. has e'en laid you fu' low. 6 Ye only stood where he sh-, &c. * Mr. Auld. Mr. Young of Cumnock. Mr. Grant of Ochiltree. § Mr. Peebles of Ayr. |