Allusion is here made to the long-disputed settlement of Mr William Boyd as minister of the parish of Fenwick. The people being prejudiced against him as a moderate, or as one brought forward by that party, his nomination was combated as long as possible; but he was at length ordained in the council-chamber of Irvine, June 25, 1782. Mr Boyd afterwards became an acceptable pastor to his flock, over whom he presided till his death at an advanced age in 1828.

Our patron, honest man! Glencairn,
He saw mischief was brewin',
And like a godly elect bairn

He's waled us out a true ane,
And sound this day.

Now, Robertson,' harangue nae mair,
But steek your gab for ever;
Or try the wicked town of Ayr,

For there they'll think you clever;
Or, nae reflection on your lear,

Ye may commence a shaver;
Or to the Netherton repair,
And turn a carpet-weaver
Aff-hand this day.

Mutrie and you were just a match,
We never had sic twa drones:

Auld Hornie did the Laigh Kirk watch,
Just like a winkin' baudrons :

And aye he catched the tither wretch,
To fry them in his caudrons :

But now his honour maun detach,
Wi' a his brimstone squadrons,
Fast, fast this day.

See, see auld Orthodoxy's faes
She's swingein through the city:
Hark how the nine-tailed cat she plays!
I vow it's unco pretty:

There Learning, with his Greekish face,
Grunts out some Latin ditty,

And Common Sense is gaun, she says,
To mak to Jamie Beattie

Her plaint this day.

But there's Morality himsel'
Embracing all opinions,

Hear how he gies the tither yell,
Between his twa companions;

1 The colleague of the newly-ordained clergyman--a moderate.

close-mouth

learning

cat

4 Probably the well-known author of the Essay on Truth is here meant. Local antiquaries are unable to give any other explanation.

See how she peels the skin and fell,
As ane were peelin' onions!

Now there they 're packèd aff to h—,
And banished our dominions

Henceforth this day.

Oh happy day! rejoice, rejoice!
Come bouse about the porter!
Morality's demure decoys

Shall here nae mair find quarter:
Mackinlay, Russell, are the boys
That heresy can torture:
They'll gie her on a rape a hoyse,
And cowe her measure shorter
By th' head some day.

Come, bring the tither mutchkin in,
And here's for a conclusion,
To every New Light mother's son,

From this time forth, Confusion:
If mair they deave us wi' their din,
Or Patronage intrusion,

We'll light a spunk, and every skin
We'll rin them aff in fusion,

Like oil some day.'

match

We venture, on conjecture, to refer to this period a poem containing some lines calculated to engrave themselves on the heart, but which did not see the light till after the fame of Burns was established :

1

AN ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE
RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS.

'My son, these maxims make a rule,

And lump them aye thegither:

The Rigid Righteous is a fool,

The Rigid Wise anither.

The cleanest corn that e'er was dight

May hae some pyles o' caff in;

So ne'er a fellow-creature slight

For random fits o' daffin.'

SOLOMON.-Eccles. vii. 16.

Oh ye wha are sae guid yoursel',

Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell

Your neebour's fauts and folly!

:

Mackinlay became a favourite preacher, very much, it is said, in consequence of his 'fine manner,' for he had little variety of illustration. He survived till 1841, attaining the patriarchal age of eighty-five years. A newspaper obituary notice informs us, that he was a native of the parish of Douglas, in Lanarkshire, and entered life as 'tutor' in the family of Sir William Cunningham of Windyhill, by whose influence with the Earl of Glencairn he obtained the presentation to the second charge of Kilmarnock.

What maks the mighty differ?

Discount what scant occasion gave
That purity ye pride in,

And (what's aft mair than a' the lave)
Your better art o' hiding.

Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop,
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop;

Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;

But in the teeth o' baith to sail,
It makes an unco lee-way.

See Social Life and Glee sit down,
All joyous and unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown
Debauchery and Drinking:

Oh would they stay to calculate

Th' eternal consequences;

Or your more dreaded hell to state,
Damnation of expenses!

Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppose a change o' cases;

A dear-loved lad, convenience snug,
A treacherous inclination-

But, let me whisper i' your lug,
Ye're aiblins nae temptation.

rest

perhaps

Then gently scan your brother man,

Still gentler sister woman;

Though they may gang a kennin' wrang,
To step aside is human:

One point must still be greatly dark,

The moving why they do it:
And just as lamely can ye mark
How far perhaps they rue it.

Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;

He knows each chord-its various tone,
Each spring-its various bias:
Then at the balance let's be mute,
We never can adjust it;

What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted.

small matter

The productions of this busy winter had not been confined to Burns's desk or table-drawer at Mossgiel. There were intelligent men around him, to whom he might communicate them, with a view to obtaining their opinion-his excellent patron Hamilton, his bosom friend clever little James Smith, his shrewd medical attendant Mackenzie, the Kilmarnock respectables afore-described, various clergymen, and, finally, Robert Aiken, perhaps the most sensible of all to the charms of divine pocsy. This Mr Aiken, to whom Burns has given the immortality of a dedication of his Cotter's Saturday Night, was a legal practitioner-Scottice, writer— and also a surveyor of taxes, in the town of Ayr. Such was his external position in life: the internal man presents us with warm affections, a cultivated mind, and a power of eloquence most extraordinary for his place and time. We have seen Holy Willie adverting to the effects of his harangue in the case of Gavin Hamilton before the Ayr presbytery. It was, however, when he poured forth the sentiments of a warm and affectionate heart, that Aiken exercised his highest power. His feelings were like those of Burns himself. As an example: some years after the death of Burns, a gentleman, walking out with Mr Aiken to celebrate the 25th of January at Alloway Kirk, produced an ode to the memory of the poet, which he had composed for the occasion. Aiken read a few verses, and walked on in advance without speaking. At last he said in a faltering tone: That will do. There are two criteria by which I judge of the merits of a production of this kind-first, my eyes are suffused; next, the buttons