That I for gear and grace may shine, And a' the glory shall be thine, EPITAPH ON HOLY WILLIE. HERE Holy Willie's sair-worn clay His saul has ta'en some other way, 1 The strength of satire here employed needs no comment. That Burns did not misrepresent the man whom he selected for vengeance is proved by events, for Holy Willie was afterwards found guilty of secreting money from the church-offerings, and he closed his miserable life in a ditch, into which he had fallen in going home from a debauch. The Rev. Hamilton Paul defends the poem as a just exposure of an odious interpretation of Christianity; and Mr. Lockhart, commenting on Mr. Paul, says: “That performances so blasphemous should have been not only pardoned, but applauded by ministers of religion, is a singular circumstance, which may go far to make the reader comprehend the exaggerated state of party-feeling in Burns's native county at the period when he first appealed to the public ear. Nor is it fair," he adds, "to pronounce sentence upon the young and reckless satirist, without taking into consideration the undeniable fact, that in his worst offences of this kind, he was encouraged and abetted by those who, to say nothing more about their professional character and authority, were almost the only persons of liberal education whose society he had any opportunity of approaching at the period in question." Stop! there he is, as sure's a gun, Your brunstane devilship, I see, Your pity I will not implore, But hear me, sir, deil as ye are, A coof like him wad stain your name, little fool THIRD EPISTLE TO J. LAPRAIK.1 The harvest of 1785 was beset by wretched weather, and was very late. On Mossgiel the half of the crop was lost, a circumstance seriously affecting the prospects of Burns and his family. In two epistles of this period- one to his brother poet Lapraik, the other to a clerical friend the bard alludes 1 First published by Lapraik in a volume of his own poems. to the evil season, as well as to the ecclesiastical bick erings then going on. September 13, 1785. GUID speed and furder to you, Johnny, Guid health, hale han's, and weather bonny; May ye ne'er want a stoup o' bran'y May Boreas never thrash your rigs, But may the tapmast grain that wags I'm bizzie too, and skelpin' at it, ricks mosses working briskly beating But bitter, daudin' showers hae wat it, Wi' muckle wark, And took my jocteleg and whatt it, knife-cut It's now twa month that I'm your debtor, On holy men, While dei a hair yoursel' ye're better, But let the kirk-folk ring their bells, To help, or roose us, But browster-wives and whisky-stills, Your friendship, sir, I winna quat it, Then han' in nieve some day we'll knot it, And when wi' usquebae we've wat it, It winna break. But if the beast and branks be spared Till kye be gaun without the herd, jades praise fist curbs COWS And a' the vittel in the yard, And theekit right, I mean your ingle-side to guard Ae winter-night. Then muse-inspirin' aqua vitæ Shall make us baith sae blithe and witty, And be as canty As ye were nine year less than thretty thatched gouty But stooks are cowpit wi' the blast, overturned peeps Then I maun rin amang the rest, And quat my chanter; Sae I subscribe myself in haste Yours, RAB THE RANTER.1 pipes EPISTLE TO THE REV. JOHN M'MATH.2 September 17, 1785. shock-reapers WHILE at the stook the shearers cower To shun the bitter blaudin' shower, To pass the time, Το you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme. My Musie, tired wi' monie a sonnet bonnet, Is grown right eerie, now she's done it, beating confusion grave fearful 1 A sobriquet borrowed from the clever old Scotch song, Maggy Lauder. 2 At that time enjoying the appointment of assistant and successor to the Rev. Peter Wodrow, minister of Torbolton. He was an excellent preacher, and a decided moderate. He enjoyed the friendship of the Montgomeries of Coilsfield, and of Burns, but unhappily fell into low spirits, in consequence of his dependent situation, and became dissipated. He died in obscurity at Rossul, in the Isle of Mull, December 1825. |