sorrow. In various poems Burns has exhibited the picture of a mind under the deep impressions of real The Lament, the Ode to Ruin, Despondency, and Winter a Dirge, are of this character. In the first of these poems the 8th stanza, which describes a sleepless night from anguish of mind, is particularly striking. Burns often indulged in those melancholy views of the nature and condition of man, which are so congenial to the temperament of sensibility. The poem entitled, Man was made to Mourn, affords an instance of this kind, and the Winter Night,* is of the same description. This last is highly characteristic, both of the temper of mind, and of the condition of Burns. It begins with a description of a dreadful storm on a night in winter. The poet represents himself as lying in bed, and listening to its howling. In this situation he naturally turns his thoughts to the ourie Cattle, and the silly Sheep, exposed to all the violence of the tempest. Having * See vol. 111. p. 149. + Ourie, out-lying, Ourie Cattle, Cattle that are unhoused all winter. Silly is in this, as in other places, a term of compassion and endearment.. Having lamented their fate, he proceeds in the following manner. "Ilk happing bird-wee, helpless thing! That, in the merry months o' spring, "Delighted me to hear thee sing, "What comes o' thee? "Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing, "An' close thy e'e?” Other reflections of the same nature occur to his mind; and as the mid-night moon "muffled with clouds" casts her dreary light on his window, thoughts of a darker and more melancholy nature croud upon him. In this state of mind, he hears a voice pouring through the gloom, a solemn and plaintive strain of reflection. The mourner compares the fury of the elements with that of man to his brother man, and finds the former light in the balance. "See stern oppression's iron grip, "Or mad ambition's gory hand, "Sending like blood-hounds from the slip, He pursues this train of reflection through á variety variety of particulars, in the course of which he introduces the following animated apostrophe. "O ye! who, sunk in beds of down, "Feel not a want but what yourselves create, "Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate, "Whom friends and fortune quite disown! "Ill-satisfy'd keen Nature's clam'rous call, "Stretch'd on his straw he lays him down to sleep, "While thro' the ragged roof and chinky wall, "Chill, o'er his slumbers, piles the drifty heap!" The strain of sentiment which runs through this poem is noble, though the execution is unequal, and the versification is defective. Among the serious poems of Burns, The Cotter's Saturday Night is perhaps entitled to the first rank. The Farmer's Ingle of Fergusson evidently suggested the plan of this poem, as has already been mentioned; but after the plan was formed, Burns trusted entirely to his own powers for the execution. Fergusson's poem is certainly very beautiful. It has all the charms which depend on rural characters and manners happily pourtrayed, and exhibited under circumstances highly grateful to the imagination. The Farmer's Ingle begins with describing the return of evening. The toils of the day are over, and the farmer retires to his comfortable fire-side. The reception which he and his . his men-servants receive from the careful housewife, is pleasingly described. After their supper is over, they begin to talk on the rural events of the day. " 'Bout kirk and market eke their tales gae on, The "Gudame" is next introduced as forming a circle round the fire, in the midst of her grandchildren, and while she spins from the rock, and the spindle plays on her "russet lap," she is relating to the young ones, tales of witches and ghosts. The poet exclaims, "O mock na this my friends! but rather mourn, "Ye in life's brawest spring wi' reason clear, "Wi' eild our idle fancies a' return, "And dim our dolefu' days wi' bairnly fear; "The mind's aye cradled when the grave is near." In the mean time the farmer, wearied with the fatigues of the day, stretches himself at length on the settle, a sort of rustic couch which extends on one side of the fire, and the cat and house-dog leap upon it to receive his caresses. Here, resting at his ease, he gives his directions to his men servants servants for the succeeding day. The house-wife follows his example, and gives her orders to the maidens. By degrees the oil in the cruise begins to fail; the fire runs low; sleep steals on his rustic group; and they move off to enjoy their peaceful slumbers. The poet concludes by bestowing his blessing on the "husbandman and all his tribe." This is an original and truely interesting pastorál. It possesses every thing required in this species of composition. We might have perhaps said, every thing that it admits, had not Burns written his Cotter's Saturday Night. The cottager returning from his labours, has no servants to accompany him, to partake of his fare, or to receive his instructions. The circle which he joins, is composed of his wife and children only; and if it admits of less variety, it affords an opportunity for representing scenes that more strongly interest the affections. The younger children running to meet him, and clambering round his knee; the elder, returning from their weekly labours with the neighbouring farmers, dutifully depositing their little gains with their parents, and receiving their father's blessing and instructions; the incidents of the courtship of Jenny, their eldest daughter, "woman grown ;" are circumstances of the most interesting kind, which are most happily delineated |