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and children, and, as he fondly hoped, to his own grey hairs, sentiments of independence buoyed up his mind, pictures of domestic content and peace rose on his imagination; and a few days passed away, as he himself informs us, the most tranquil, if not the happiest, which he had ever experienced.*

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* Animated sentiments of any kind, almost always gave rise in our Poet to some production of his musc. His sentiments on this occasion were in part expressed by the following vigorous and characteristic, though not very delicate verses: they are in imitation of an old ballad:

I hae a wife o' my ain,

I'll partake wi' nae-body;
I'll tak cuckold frae nane,

I'll gie cuckold to nae-body.

I hae a penny to spend,

There-thanks to nae-body;

I hae naething to lend,

I'll borrow frae nae-body.

I am nae-body's lord,

I'll be slave to nae-body;

I hae a guid braid sword,

I'll tak dunts frae nae-body.

I'll be merry and free,

I'll be sad for nae-body;

If nae-body care for me,

I'll care for nae-body.

It is to be lamented that at this critical period of his life, our poet was without the society of his wife and children. A great change had taken place in his situation; his old habits were broken; and the new circumstances in which he was placed were calculated to give a new direction to his thoughts and conduct.* But his application to the cares and labours of his farm was interrupted by several visits to his family in Ayrshire; and as the distance was too great for a single day's journey, he generally spent a night at an inn on the road. On such occasions he sometimes fell into company, and forgot the resolutions he had formed. In a little while temptation assailed him nearer home.

His fame naturally drew upon him the attention of his neighbours, and he soon formed a general acquaintance in the district in which he lived. The public voice had now pronounced on the subject of his talents; the reception he had met with in Edinburgh had given him the currency which fashion bestows; he had surmounted the prejudices arising from his humble birth; and he was received at the table of the gentlemen of Nithsdale with welcome,

Mrs. Burns was about to be confined in child-bed,

and the house at Ellisland was rebuilding.

come, with kindness, and even with respect. Their social parties too often seduced him from his rustic labours and his rustic fare, overthrew the unsteady fabric of his resolutions, and inflamed those propensities which temperance might have weakened, and prudence ultimately suppressed.* It was not long, therefore, before Burns began to view his farm with dislike and despondence, if not with disgust.

Unfortunately he had for several years looked to an office in the Excise as a certain means of livelihood, should his other expectations fail. As has already been mentioned, he had been recommended to the Board of Excise, and had received

* The poem of The Whistle, (vol. iii. p. 368) celebrates a Bacchanalian contest among three gentlemen of Nithsdale, where Burns appears as umpire. Mr. Riddell died before our Bard, and some elegiac verses to his memory will be found in vol. iv. p. 368. From him, and from all the members of his family, Burns received not kindness only, but friendship; and the society he met in general at Friar's Carse was calculated to improve his habits as well as his manners. Mr. Ferguson of Craigdarroch, so well known for his eloquence and social talents, died soon after our poet. Sir Robert Laurie, the third person in the drama, survives, and has since been engaged in contests of a bloodier nature. Long may he live to fight the battles of his country! (1799.)

received the instruction necessary for such a situation. He now applied to be employed; and by the interest of Mr. Graham of Fintry, was appointed exciseman, or, as it is vulgarly called, gauger, of the district in which he lived. His farm was after this, in a great measure, abandoned to servants, while he betook himself to the duties of his new appointment.

He might indeed still be seen in the spring, directing his plough, a labour in which he excelled; or with a white sheet containing his seed-corn slung across his shoulders, striding with measured steps along his turned-up furrows, and scattering the grain in the earth. But his farm no longer occupied the principal part of his care or his thoughts. It was not at Ellisland that he was now in general to be found. Mounted on horseback, this highminded poet was pursuing the defaulters of the revenue, among the hills and vales of Nithsdale, his roving eye wandering over the charms of nature, and muttering his wayward fancies as he moved along.

"I had an adventure with him in the year 1790," says Mr. Ramsay, of Ochtertyre, in a letter to the editor," when passing through Dumfries-shire, on a tour to the South, with Dr. Steuart of Luss. Seeing him pass quickly, near

Closeburn.

Closeburn, I said to my companion, that is Burns.' On coming to the inn, the hostler told, us he would be back in a few hours to grant permits; that where he met with any thing seizable, he was no better than any other gauger; in every thing else, that he was perfectly a gentleman. After leaving a note to be delivered to him on his return, I proceeded to his house, being curious to see his Jean, &c. I was much pleased with his uxor Sabina qualis, and the poet's modest mansion, so unlike the habitation of ordinary rustics. In the evening he suddenly bounced in upon us, and said, as he entered, I come, to use the words of Shakespeare, stewed in haste. In fact he had ridden incredibly fast after receiving my note. We fell into conversation directly, and soon got into the mare magnum of poetry. He told me that he had now gotten a story for a Drama, which he was to call Rob Macquechan's Elshon, from a popular story of Robert Bruce being defeated on the water of Caern, when the heel of his boot having loosened in his flight, he applied to Robert Macquechan to fit it; who, to make sure, ran his awl nine inches up the King's heel. We were now going on at a great rate, when Mr. S. popped in his head; which put a stop to our discourse, which had become very interesting. Yet in a little while it was resumed; and such was the force and versatility

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