dawn upon us. He talks of ballad-making as his "hobby-horse,', and, indeed, the subject was such a congenial one that it brought brightness and consolation to what was, without doubt, the darkest period of his life. Writing of the payment he was to receive, he says "As to remuneration, you may think my songs either above or below price, for they shall absolutely be the one or the other. In the honest enthusiasm with which I embark in your undertaking, to talk of money, wages, fees, etc., would be downright prostitution of soul." Looking at his songs to-day, there can be no doubt of the truth of his implied prophecy that they would be indeed above price, for money can never be recompense fitting or sufficient for the rich and imperishable heritage he has bequeathed to us.

ELIZABETH W. INGRAM.

BURNS AND THE DOMINIES.

HE most casual reader of the life of Burns must have

THE observed that of the multitude of people, from the

peasant to the peer, with whom his genius and his fame brought him into close relationship, schoolmasters form a considerable number. "All his life," says Professor Wilson, in his essay on the Poet, "he was associated with schoolmasters, finding, along with knowledge, talent and integrity, originality and strength of character, prevalent in that meritorious and ill-rewarded class of men." When we consider this long-life intimacy, which must have had no small influence on both sides-though it is not my intention to enquire into that influence at present-does it not seem remarkable that no one has devoted any particular attention to Burns and the dominies? There has been an innumerable multitude of lectures and addresses, of books and essays having Burns as their main theme, published; and the circumstances of his life, his genius, his work, his character, his heroes and heroines, and a host of other persons more or less associated with him have been described and discussed; but I am not aware that any speaker or writer has taken up, for the purpose of dealing with it exhaustively, the subject to which I am now inviting attention, and I feel therefore that if what I am going to say is not new to the student of Burns-what, indeed, can be new about Burns to-day, unless the way in which it is put?-the arrangement of the facts may be interesting-though it were for no other reason-because of their novelty. Of one thing, at any rate, I am certain, we cannot but feel that it is good for us to linger for some time in the company of Burns and his friends the dominies.

At the outset let me mention who those friends were. First there was John Murdoch, his early tutor, and then Hugh Rodger,

Kirkoswald; David Sillar, Tarbolton, a brother poet; William Simpson, Ochiltree; John Wilson, the "Dr Hornbook" of the satire, who might be more appropriately described as an acquaintance; William Nicol, William Cruickshank, and Allan Masterton, who may aptly be called the Edinburgh group; James Clarke, whom Burns so nobly defended against injustice; and James Gray, who was one of the first to dissipate the calumnies which had been so industriously heaped up around the character of the Poet. There were other schoolmasters whose relationships with Burns were too slight to warrant them being included in this list; but some reference will be made to them at proper places in the course of the paper.

Most people if asked, Who was the first teacher of Burns? would reply John Murdoch, and so prominent was the part which he took in the early education of the Poet that one need not wonder at the mistake, for mistake it is. The first schoolmaster under whom Burns sat was one Campbell, an Alloway teacher, who had care of the boy for only six months, when he was appointed master of the workhouse at Ayr. But I want here to put forward the claim that the first teacher of Robert Burns was his own father. William Burns was a man of more than ordinary intelligence who closely read the best books and thought deeply, and gave evidence of his culture even in his commonplace conversation. Such a man could not leave the education of his children entirely to others, however capable they might be in the art of giving instruction. He taught them many things, both by precept and example, and though his children had never entered a school they would not have been illiterate. John Murdoch, in a letter to Professor Walker, one of the biographers of Burns, declared that the boy's principal instructor was his father. "He spoke the English language," wrote Murdoch, "with more propriety, both in respect to dictation and pronunciation, than any man I ever knew with no greater advantages. This had a very good effect on the boys"-that is Robert and Gilbert "who began to talk and reason like men much sooner than their neighbours." Gilbert Burns alludes to the same fact

66 was for some He conversed

in a letter to Mrs Dunlop. "My father," he says, time almost the only companion we had. familiarly on all subjects with us, as if we had been men, and was at great pains, while we accompanied him on the labours of the farm, to lead the conversation to such subjects as might tend to increase our knowledge or confirm us in virtuous habits." The children of such a father could not but be intelligent-they were constantly acquiring knowledge in the way that it was most likely to be remembered and be of service.

This brief glance at the early education of Burns provides some information as to the method-or rather want of method-of education at the end of the 18th century. Our educational system, as we know it to-day, had not been thought of then. The school at Alloway belonged to Campbell, and he could do whatever he liked with it. When, therefore, he received an appointment in Ayr he closed the door and took the key with him that is supposing it had a key-leaving the parents in the neighbourhood to find education for their children as best they might. William Burns, in co-operation with others, engaged Murdoch, who was then only 18 years of age, to teach their children. Murdoch had no school, and he was boarded in turn by the parents of his pupils. He was a capable teacher, and both Robert and Gilbert made decided progress on the road to learning. Robert's proficiency in English was, wrote his brother, "of considerable weight in unfolding his genius and character, as he soon became remarkable for the fluency and correctness of his expression, and read the few books that came in his way with pleasure and improvement." This instruction had lasted two or three years when Murdoch got an appointment in another locality, and the children of William Burns were again without any teacher, save their father, who taught them during the day by excellent conversation, and in the evening by something more closely approaching the methods of the school.

A striking incident in the boyhood of Burns may be introduced here. It is related in a letter written by Gilbert to Mrs Dunlop, and may, because of its brevity, be quoted in full. "I

remember," says Gilbert, "a circumstance which, though trifling in itself, is fresh in my memory, and may serve to illustrate the early character of my brother. Murdoch came to spend a night with us, and to take his leave, when he was about to go into Carrick. He brought as a present and memorial of him a small compendium of English grammar, and the tragedy of 'Titus Andronicus,' and by way of passing the evening he began to read the play aloud. We were all attention for some time, till presently the whole party was dissolved in tears. A female in the play (I have but a confused remembrance of it) had her hands chopped off and her tongue cut out, and then was insultingly desired to call for water to wash her hands. At this, in an agony of distress, we with one voice desired that he would read no more. My father observed that if we did not hear it out it would be needless to leave the play with us. Robert replied that if it was left he would burn it. My father was going to chide him for this ungrateful return to his tutor's kindness; but Murdoch interfered, declaring that he liked to see so much sensibility, and he left The School for Love,' a comedy translated, I think, from the French, in its place."

From his ninth till his thirteenth year Burns had only his father for teacher. Even at the latter age the boy had given no indication of becoming a fine penman, and indeed he wrote so badly that he was then sent to a school at Dalrymple to be improved in that respect. In the meantime Murdoch had returned to Ayr-his native town-and Robert next went to board with him for a few weeks to have his English revised. At the same time he studied French, showing, we are told, great facility in acquiring that language, being able to understand any French author in prose, and from his correspondence it is evident that he never forgot what he had learned in his boyhood. It is worth noting that Murdoch taught French orally-that is, he sought to make his pupils, by imitating the spoken word and phrase, learn the foreign tongue in the same way that they learned their native tongue. One Robinson, a writing-master in Ayr, and a friend of Murdoch's, noticing the rapid progress of Burns in