6

'To give my counsels all in one, Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; 'Preserve the dignity of Man,

• With Soul erect;

And trust, the UNIVERSAL PLAN
Will all protect.

'And wear thou this'-She solemn said,
And bound the Holly round my head:
The polish'd leaves, and berries red,
Did rustling play;

And, like a passing thought, she fled,
In light away.

[In support of what we have stated in the head-note to the present poem regarding its extraordinary length, as originally composed, we here insert a reference to that subject which occurs in a letter from the poet to Mrs. Dunlop, dated 15th January, 1787:-"I have not composed anything on the great Wallace, except what you have seen in print, and the enclosed, which I will print in this edition (then at press.) You will see I have mentioned some others of the name. When I composed my Vision long ago, I had attempted a description of Kyle, of which the additional stanzas are a part as it originally stood."

Dr. Currie observes, "To the painting on Coila's mantle, on which is depicted the most striking scenery, as well as the most distinguished characters of his native district, some exception may be made: the mantle of Coila, like the cup of Thyrsis and the shield of Achilles, is too much crowded with figures, and some of the objects represented upon it are scarcely admissable according to the principles of design."

It would appear that, by the very instinct of genius, Burns had a feeling of this kind when left to his own judgement, for the present text is quite faultless as regards extravagance in Coila's robe.]

THE following POEM will, by many Readers, be well enough understood; but,

for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, Notes are added, to give some account of the principal Charms and Spells of that Night, so big with Prophecy to the Peasantry in the West of Scotland. The passion of prying into Futurity makes a striking part of the history of Human-nature, in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such should honor the Author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own.-(R. B. 1786.)

HALLOWEEN.*

Yes! let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain,
The simple pleasures of the lowly train;

To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

GOLDSMITH.

[This has ever been a special favourite with the peasantry of Scotland, abounding as it does in lively and characteristic description of manners and scenery so familiar to them. Few passages of Burns have been more frequently quoted in illustration of his graphic dexterity in hitting off a living landscape in a few touches, than the 25th stanza, commencing-" Whyles owre a linn," &c.]

UPON that night, when Fairies light,
On Cassilis Downans † dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean, the rout is taen,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the Cove, to stray an' rove,
Amang the rocks an' streams

To sport that night.

Amang the bonie, winding banks,

Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear,

Where BRUCE § ance rul'd the martial ranks,
An' shook his Carrick spear,

*Is thought to be a night when Witches, Devils, and other mischief-making beings, are all abroad on their baneful, midnight errands: particularly, those, aerial people, the Fairies, are said, on that night, to hold a grand Anniversary.(R. B. 1786.)

† Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.-(R. B. 1786.)

A noted cavern near Colean-house, called the Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed, in country story, for being a favourite haunt of Fairies.-(R. B. 1786.)

§ The famous family of that name, the ancestors of ROBERT the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.-(R. B. 1786.)

Some merry, friendly, countra folks,
Together did convene,

To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks,
An' haud their Halloween

Fu' blythe that night.

The lasses feat, an' cleanly neat,
Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin':
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs,
Gar lasses hearts gang startin

Whyles fast at night.

Then, first an' foremost, thro' the kail,
Their stocks maun a' be sought ance;

*

They steek their een, an' grape an' wale,
For muckle anes, an' straught anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,

An' wander'd thro' the Bow-kail,
An' pow't, for want o' better shift,
A runt was like a sow-tail

Sae bow't that night.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar an' cry a' throw'ther;
The vera wee-things, toddlan, rin,

Wi' stocks out owre their shouther:

An' gif the custock's sweet or sour,
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;

Syne coziely, aboon the door,

Wi' cannie care, they've plac'd them
To lye that night.

*The first ceremony of Halloween, is, pulling each a Stock, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their Spells-the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.-(R. B. 1786.)

To pou

The lasses staw frae 'mang them a',
their stalks o' corn; *
But Rab slips out, an' jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard an' fast;
Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
Bút her tap-pickle maist was lost,
When kiutlan in the Fause-house †
Wi' him that night.

The auld Guidwife's weel-hoordet nits ‡
Are round an' round divided,
An' monie lads an' lasses fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
An' burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,
An' jump out owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie e'e;
Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, an' this is me,
She says in to hersel:

He bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him,
As they wad never mair part,
Till fuff! he started up the lum,
An' Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see't that night.

*They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of Oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will want the Maidenhead.-(R. B. 1786.) [The three closing words of this note altered in 1787, to "come to the marriage-bed anything but a maid."]

When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green, or wet, the Stackbuilder, by means of old timber, &c. makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a Fause-house.-(R. B. 1786.)

Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire; and according as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the Courtship will be.-(R. B. 1786.)

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
An' Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compar'd to Willie:
Mall's nit lap out, wi' pridefu' fling,
An' her ain fit, it brunt it;
While Willie lap, an' swoor by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.

Nell had the Fause-house in her min',
She pits hersel an' Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin :
Nell's heart was dancin at the view;
She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stownlins, prie'd her bonie mou,
Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,

Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashan at their cracks,
An' slips out by hersel:

She thro' the yard the nearest taks,
An' for the kiln she goes then,

An' darklins grapet for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue* throws then,
Right fear't that night.

An' ay she win't, an' ay she swat,
I wat she made nae jaukin;
Till something held within the pat,
Guid L-d! but she was quaukin!

* Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions. Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot, a clew of blue yarn: wind it in a new clew off the old one; and towards the latter end, something will hold the thread: demand, wha hauds? i. e. who holds ? and answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the christian and sirname of your future Spouse.-(R. B, 1786.)