hers and Saw ye my father appears to me (Where are the joys I hae met in the morning, both indelicate and silly. One word more with regard to your heroic ode. I think, with great deference to the poet, p. 242.) Adieu, my dear Sir! The post goes, so I shall that a prudent general would avoid saying any defer some other remarks until more leisure, thing to his soldiers which might tend to make "Now prepare for honour's bed, September, 1793. "WHO shall decide when doctors disagree?" My ode pleases me so much that I cannot alter it. Your proposed alterations would, in my opinion, make it tame. I am exceedingly obliged to you for putting me on re-considering it; as I think I have much improved it. Instead of "sodger! hero!" I will have it "Caledonian! on wi' me!" I have scrutinized it over and over; and to the world some way or other it shall go as it is. At the same time it will not in the least hurt me should you leave it out altogether and adhere to your first intention of adopting Logan's verses. No. XLVI. THE SAME TO THE SAME. September, 1793. I HAVE been turning over some volumes of songs, to find verses whose measures would suit the airs for which you have allotted me to find English songs. For Muirland Willie, you have, in Ramsay's Tea-table, an excellent song, beginning "Ah, why those tears in Nelly's eyes?" As for The Collier's Dochter, take the following old Bacchanal. I have finished my song to Saw ye my fa- Your Irish airs are pretty, but they are downther; and in English, as you will see. That right Irish. If they were like the Banks of there is a syllable too much for the expression of Banna, for instance, though really Irish, yet in the air, is true; but allow me to say, that the the Scottish taste, you might adopt them. Since mere dividing of a dotted crotchet into a crot-you are so fond of Irish music, what say you to chet and a quaver, is not a great matter: how-twenty-five of them in an additional number? ever, in that I have no pretensions to cope in We could easily find this quantity of charming judgment with you. Of the poetry I speak with confidence; but the music is a business where I hint my ideas with the utmost diffidence. The old verses have merit, though unequal, and are popular; my advice is to set the air to the old words, and let mine follow as English verses. Here they are airs; I will take care that you shall not want songs; and I assure you that you will find it the most saleable of the whole. If you do not approve of Roy's wife, for the music's sake, we shall not insert it. Deil tak' the wars, is a charming song; so is, Saw ye my Peggy? There's nae luck about the house, well deserves a place; I cannot say that O'er the hills and Mr. Thomson has very properly adopted this song far awa strikes me as equal to your selection. (if it may be so called) as the bard presented it to him. This is no my ain house is a great favourite air He has attached it to the air of Lewie Gordon, and per- of mine; and if you send me your set of it, I haps among the existing airs he could not find a better; will task my muse to her highest effort. What but the poetry is suited to a much higher strain of music, and may employ the genius of some Scottish Han-is your opinion of I hae laid a herrin in sawt? del, if any such should in future arise. The reader I like it much. Your Jacobite airs are pretty; will have observed, that Burns adopted the alterations proposed by his friend and correspondent in former in. and there are many others of the same kind, stances with great readiness; perhaps, indeed, on all pretty-but you have not room for them. You indifferent occasions. In the present instance, however, cannot, I think, insert, Fy let us a' to the bridle, he rejected them, though repeatedly urged, with determined resolution. to any other words than its own. 72 What pleases me, as simple and naive, disgusts you as ludicrous and low. For this reason, Fye, gie me my coggie, sirs-Fye, let us a' to the bridal, with several others of that cast, are, to me, highly pleasing; while, Saw ye my father, or saw ye my Mother, delights me with its discriptive simple pathos. Thus, my song, Ken ye what Meg o' the mill has gotten? pleases myself so much, that I cannot try my hand at another song to the air; so I shall not attempt it. I know you will laugh at all this; but, "ilka man wears his belt his ain gait." No. XLVIL THE SAME TO THE SAME. October, 1793. Your last letter, my dear Thomson, was indeed laden with heavy news. Alas, poor Erskine! The recollection that he was a coadjutor in your publication, has, till now, scared me from writing to you, or turning my thoughts on composing for you. I am pleased that you are reconciled to the air of the Quaker's Wife, though, by the bye, an old Highland gentleman, and a deep antiquarian, tells me it is a Gaelic air, and known by the name of Leiger 'm choss. The following verses I hope will please you, as an English song to the air: his manuscripts, I hope you may find out some that will answer as English songs to the airs yet unprovided. No. XLIX. THE POET TO MR. THOMSON. December, 1798. TELL me how you like the following verses to the tune of Jo Janet. (Husband, husband, cease your strife, p. 213.) (Wilt thou be my dearie ? p. 242.) No L. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. MY DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 17th April, 1794. OWING to the distress of our friend for the loss of his child, at the time of his receiving your admirable but melancholy letter, I had not an opportunity 'till lately of perusing it. How sorry am I to find Burns saying, "Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased?" while he is delighting others from one end of the island to the other. Like the bypochondriac who went to consult a physician upon his case: Go, says the doctor, and see the famous Carlini, who keeps all Paris in good humour. Alas! Sir, replied the patient, I am that unhappy Carlini ! Your plan for our meeting together pleases me greatly, and I trust that by some means or other it will soon take place; but your Bacchanalian challenge almost frightens me, for I am a miserable weak drinker! Allan is much gratified by your good opinion of his talents. He has just begun a sketch from your Cotter's Saturday Night, and if it pleases himself in the design, he will probably etch or engrave it. In subjects of the pastoral or humorous kind, he is perhaps unrivalled by any artist living. He fails a little in giving beauty and grace to his females, and his colouring is sombre, otherwise his paintings and drawings would be in greater request. I like the music of the Sutor's Dochter, and will consider whether it shall be added to the last volume; your verses to it are pretty; but your humorous English song, to suit Jo Janet, is inimitable. What think you of the air, Within a mile of Edinburgh?" It has always I have to thank you for your English song to Leiger 'm choss, which I think extremly good, although the colouring is warm. Your friend Mr. Turnbull's songs have doubtless consider-struck me as a modern English imitation; but able merit; and as you have the command of is said to be Oswald's, and is so much liked, that I believe I must include it. The verses are lit A letter to Mr. Cunningham, to be found •The Honourable A. Erskine, brother to Lord Kelty, whose melancholy death Mr. Thomson had communicated in an excellent letter, which he has suppressed. in p. 379. I RETURN you the plates, with which I am highly pleased; I would humbly propose, instead of the younker knitting stockings, to put a stock and horn into his hands. A friend of mine, who is positively the ablest judge on the subject I have ever met with, and though an unknown, is yet a superior artist with the Burin, is quite charmed with Allan's manner. got him a peep of the Gentle Shepherd; and he pronounces Allan a most original artist of great excellence. For my part, I look on Mr. Allan's choosing my favourite poem for his subject, to be one of the highest compliments I have ever received. So may no ruffian feeling in thy breast, Or pity's notes, in luxury of tears, As modest want the tale of woe reveals; While conscious virtue all the strain endears, And heaven-born piety her sanction seals. No. LIII. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. MY DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 10th Aug. 1794. I am quite vexed at Pleyel's being cooped up layed to acknowledge the favour of your last. I owe you an apology for having so long dein France, as it will put an entire stop to our I fear it will be as you say, I shall have no work. Now, and for six or seven months, I more songs from Pleyel till France and we are shall be quite in song, as you shall see by and friends; but, nevertheless, I am very desirous by. I got an air, pretty enough, composed by to be prepared with the poetry, and as the seaLady Elizabeth Heron of Heron, which she son approaches in which your muse of Coila vicalls The Banks of Cree. Cree is a beautiful sits you, I trust I shall, as formerly, be frequentromantic stream: and as her Ladyship is a par- ly gratified with the result of your amorous and ticular friend of mine, I have written the fol- tender interviews! lowing song to it. (The Banks of Cree, p. 226.) No. LII. THE SAME TO THE SAME. July, 1794. Is there no news yet of Pleyel? Or is your work to be at a dead stop, until the allies set our modern Orpheus at liberty from the savage thraldom of democratic discords? Alas the day! And woe's me! That auspicious period, pregnant with the happiness of millions. I have presented a copy of your songs to the daughter of a much-valued, and much-honoured friend of mine, Mr. Graham of Fintry. I wrote, on the blank side of the title page, the following address to the young lady. A portion of this letter has been left out, for reasons that will be easily imagined.-CURRIE. No. LIV. THE POET TO MR. THOMSON. 80th August, 1794. THE last evening, as I was straying out and thinking of, O'er the hills and far awa, I spun the following stanza for it; but whether my spinning will deserve to be laid up in store like the precious thread of the silk-worm, or brushed to the devil, like the vile manufacture of the spider, I leave, my dear Sir, to your usual candid criticism. I was pleased with several lines in it at first; but I own, that now, it appears rather a flimsy business. This is just a hasty sketch, until I see whe.. ther it be worth a critique. We have many sailor songs; but, as far as I at present recollect, they are mostly the effusions of the jovial sailor, not the wailings of his love-lorn mistréss. I must here make one sweet exception -Sweet Annie frae the Sea-beach came Now for the song. (On the seas and far away, p. 219.) I give you leave to abuse this song, but do it in the spirit of christian meekness. (Ca' the yowes to the knowes, p. 195.) I shall give you my opinion of your other newly adopted songs my first scribbling fit. No. LV. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. MY DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 16th Sept. 1794. You have anticipated my opinion of, On the seas and far away; I do not think it one of your very happy productions, though it certainly contains stanzas that are worthy of all acceptation. No. LVIL THE SAME TO THE SAME. September, 1794. Do you know a blackguard Irish song, called Onagh's water-fall? The air is charming, The second is the least to my liking, parti- and I have often regretted the want of decent cularly "Bullets, spare my only joy." Con- verses to it. It is too much, at least for my found the bullets! It might perhaps be object- humble rustic muse, to expect that every effort ed to the third verse, "At the starless mid- of hers shall have merit; still I think that it is night hour," that it has too much grandeur of better to have mediocre verses to a favourite imagery, and that greater simplicity of thought air, than none at all. On this principle I have would have better suited the character of a sai- all along proceeded in the Scots Musical Mu lor's sweetheart. The tune, it must be re-seum, and as that publication is in its last vomembered, is of the brisk, cheerful kind. Upon lume, I intend the following song, to the air the whole, therefore, in my humble opinion, the above mentioned, for that work. song would be better adapted to the tune, if it consisted only of the first and last verses, with the chorusses. No. LVI. THE POET TO MR. THOMSON. Sept. 1794. I SHALL withdraw my, On the seas and far away, altogether: it is unequal, and unworthy the work. Making a poem is like begetting a son: you cannot know whether you have a wise man or a fool, until you produce him to the world and try him. If it does not suit you as an editor, you may be pleased to have verses to it that you can sing before ladies. (Sae flaxen were her ringlets, p. 228.) Not to compare small things with great, my taste in music is like the mighty Frederick of Prussia's taste in painting: we are told that he frequently admired what the connoisseurs decried, and always without any hypocrisy confessed his admiration. I am sensible that my taste in music must be inelegant and vulgar, because people of undisputed and cultivated taste can find no merit in my favourite tunes, Still, because I am cheaply pleased, is that any reason why I should deny myself that pleasure? For that reason I send you the offspring of Many of our strathspeys, ancient and modern, my brain, abortions and all; and, as such, pray give me the most exquisite enjoyment, where look over them, and forgive them, and burn you and other judges would probably be showthem. I am flattered at your adopting, Ca' ing disgust. For instance, I am just now makthe yowes to the knowes, as it was owing to me ing verses for Rothemurche's Rant, an air that ever it saw the light. About seven years which puts me in raptures; and in fact, unless ago I was well acquainted with a worthy little I be pleased with the tune, I never can make fellow of a clergyman, a Mr. Clunie, who sung verses to it. Here I have Clarke on my side, it charmingly; and, at my request, Mr. Clarke who is a judge that I will pit against any of took it down from his singing. When I gave you. "Rothemurche," he says, "is an air it to Johnson, I added some stanzas to the song, both original and beautiful ;" and on his recomand mended others, but still it will not do for mendation I have taken the first part of the you. In a solitary stroll which I took to-day, tune for a chorus, and the fourth or last part I tried my hand on a few pastoral lines, follow-for the song. I am but two stanzas deep in the ing up the idea of the chorus, which I would work, and possibly you may think, and justly, preserve. Here it is, with all its crudities and that the poetry is as little worth your attention imperfections on its head. as the music. This Virgilian order of the poet should, I think, be disobeyed with respect to the song in question, the second stanza excepted.-Note by Mr. Thomson. Doctors differ. The objection to the second stanza does not strike the Editor.-CURRIE I have begun anew, Let me in this ae night. Do you think that we ought to retain the old chorus? I think we must retain both the old • In the original follow here two stanzas of the song, "Lassie wi' the lint-white locks." chorus and the first stanza of the old song. I Did you not once propose The Sow's tail to Geordie, as an air for your work? I am quite delighted with it; but I acknowledge that is no mark of its real excellence. I once set about verses for it, which I meant to be in the alternate way of a lover and his mistress chanting together. I have not the pleasure of knowing Mrs. Thomson's Christian name, and yours, I am afraid, is rather burlesque for sentiment, else I had meant to have made you the hero and heroine of the little piecc. How do you like the following epigram, which I wrote the other day on a lovely young girl's recovery from a fever? Doctor Maxwell was the physician who seemingly saved her from the grave; and to him I address the following: TO DR. MAXWELL, ON MISS JESSY STAIG'S RECOVERY. MAXWELL, if merit here you crave, You save fair Jessy from the grave! God grant you patience with this stupid epistle! all poetical. Retain Jeanie, therefore, and I No. LVIII. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. I PERCEIVE the sprightly muse is now attendant upon her favourite poet, whose woodnotes wild are become as enchanting as ever. She says she lo'es me best o' a', is one of the pleasantest table songs I have seen, and henceforth shall be mine when the song is going round. I'll give Cunningham a copy; he can more powerfully proclaim its merit. I am far from undervaluing your taste for the strathspey music; on the contrary, I think it highly animating and agreeable, and that some of the strathspeys, when graced with such verses as yours, will make very pleasing songs, in the same way that rough Christians are tempered and softened by lovely woman, without whom, you know, they had been brutes. No. LIX. THE SAME TO THE SAME. Edinburgh, 14th October, 1794. THE last eight days have been devoted to the re-examination of the Scottish collections. 1 have read, and sung, and fiddled, and considered, till I am half blind and wholly stupid. The few airs I have added, are enclosed. Peter Pindar has at length sent me all the songs I expected from him, which are in general elegant and beautiful. Have you heard of London collection of Scottish airs and songs, just published by Mr. Ritson, an Englishman I shall send you a copy. His introductory es say on the subject is curious, and evinces great reading and research, but does not decide the question as to the origin of our melodies; though he shows clearly that Mr. Tytler, in his ingenious dissertation, has adduced no sort of proof of the hypothesis he wished to establish; I am clear for having the Sow's tail, parti-and that his classification of the airs, according cularly as you proposed verses to it are so extremely promising. Geordie, as you observe, is a name only fit for burlesque composition. Mrs. Thomson's name (Katharine) is not at certainly took it so far into consideration, as to have Our bard had before received the same advice, and cast about for a subject. |