THE NEW MONTHLY and LONDON MAGA ZINE for NOVEMBER. CONTENTS.-Notes on the Irish Circuit; Wexford, Waterford, Kilkenny, Clonmel-Effect of Emancipation-A Visit to Newstead Abbey, the seat of the Byrons-Passages from a Poet's Dream Book -A Thought of the Future, by Mrs Hemans-Ramblings of a Desultory Man-The Diligence-Autobiography of a Landaulet-Richelieu, a Tale of the Court of France-The Coronation of Corina-Society in Russia-Tartar Burial-Balls-The Bohemians, &c.-The Dead Sea-The Crusade of Children -Letters from New York, No. 3 -Corn Laws and Catechism-Mr Huskisson-The New Police-Ad'eu In 1 thick volume. post 8vo, price 12s., with a beautiful frontispiece. to the Charleys-Epigram, Marble Arch. &c. and the usual varieties THE POETICAL ALBUM, and REGISTER of in Politics, Critical Notices of New Publications, the Drama, Music, Fine Arts, Biographical Memoirs of Persons lately deceased, Provincial Occurrences, &c. &c. 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It is certainly the work of a man of genius,-of a clear and correct thinker,—of an acute judge of character,—of a talented, and, what is better, of an honest writer. There is no clap-trap about the volume,—no affectation,-no attempt at fine feeling and overstrained sentiment. Justice is done to Burns, because he is treated, not as an object of stupid worship, but as a human being, whom it was impossible not to admire Due allowance is made and love in spite of all his faults. for the circumstances in which he was placed, and the PRICE 6d. less to enquire; that they were many, his songs prove, for And leave auld Scotia's shore?— Burns says, In my early years, when I was thinking of going to the West Indies, I took this farewell of a dear girl; and afterwards, in a note on "Ye banks, and braes, and streams around Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, There summer first unfaulds her robes, For there I took the last farewell he adds, After a pretty long trial of the most ardent re- With so much in its favour, we do not wonder that Mr Lockhart's book is about to arrive at a third edition. We have been favoured with a sight of his manuscript corrections and additions to this new impression. They are numerous and valuable, and have evidently been made with much care, and at considerable cost of time and labour. Their most interesting feature, of course, consists in the new and hitherto unpublished relics of Burns which he has been able to add, a considerable portion of which we shall now transfer to our pages. Before doing 80, however, we are happy to have it in our power to supply Mr Lockhart with an unpublished poem by Burns, which has escaped his research, and which, we think, will form an interesting addition to his work when it arrives at a fourth edition. At page 209 of the third edition, Mr Lockhart quotes from the Edinburgh Literary Journal (vol. I. p. 82) an anecdote of Burns, which, though given anonymously, we may now mention is from the able pen of our contributor, Dr Gillespie. The verses A fortnight we are about to subjoin are not less valuable. ago, we gave one stanza of an unpublished poem concerning Highland Mary, which came into our possession through the kindness of an intelligent correspondent in the West country, and the authenticity of which we clearly We have established by the facts we then mentioned. since received, through Mr Lewis Smith of Aberdeen, a complete copy of this poem, which it appears has been in the possession of a gentleman of that town for some years. "That noblest of all his ballads, To Mary in Heaven, The stanza we formerly printed is the third, and differs was, it is on all hands admitted, composed by Burns in Sepfrom the version already published only in one word, or tember 1789, on the anniversary of the day on which be rather in one letter of a word, which we shall mark. Be-heard of the death of his early love, Mary Campbell. But fore presenting the lines, we shall first quote Mr Lock- Mr Cromek has thought fit to dress up the story with cirMrs Burns, the only hart's account of the poet's connexion with Highland cumstances which did not occur. person who could appeal to personal recollection on this ocMary, which will serve to illustrate them, and form an casion, and whose recollections of all circumstances connected with the history of her husband's poems are repreappropriate introduction: sented as being remarkably distinct and vivid, gives what may at first appear a more prosaic edition of the history. "How many lesser romances of this order were evolved and completed during his residence at Mossgiel, it is need According to her, Burns spent that day, though labouring under a cold, in the usual work of his harvest, and apparently in excellent spirits. But as the twilight deepened, he appeared to grow very sad about something, and at length wandered out into the barn-yard, to which his wife, in her anxiety for his health, followed him, entreating him in vain to observe that frost had set in, and to return to the fireside. On being again and again requested to do so, he always promised compliance-but still remained where he was, striding up and down slowly, and contemplating the sky, which was singularly clear and starry. At last Mrs Burns found him stretched on a mass of straw, with his eyes fixed on a beautiful planet, that shone like another moon,' and prevailed on him to come in. He immediately, on entering the house, called for his desk, and wrote, exactly as they now stand, with all the ease of one copying from memory, the sublime and pathetic verses Thou lingering star, with lessening ray Again thou usherest in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O, Mary! dear departed shade, Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid, Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?' &c. The following simple and touching verses refer to the approaching separation of the lovers. They ought immediately to be set to music, and are well calculated to take their place among the popular songs of their lamented author: VERSES, By Robert Burns, when about to leave Scotland. O'er the mist-shrouded cliffs of the lone mountain straying, Where the wild winds of winter incessantly rave, What woes wring my heart while intensely surveying The storm's gloomy path on the breast of the wave. Ye foam-crested billows, allow me to wail, E'er ye toss me afar from my loved native shore; Where the flower which bloom'd sweetest in Coila's green vale, The pride of my bosom, my Mary's no more. No more by the banks of the streamlet we'll wander, No more shall the soft thrill of love warm my breast, Whiles owre a bush wi' downward crush, "I doubtna, lass, that weel-kenn'd name I am nae stranger to your fame, And faith ye'll no be lost a whit, Tho' waired on Willie Chalmers. "Auld Truth hersell might swear ye're fair, "I doubtna Fortune may you shore, And band upon his breastie; His lexicons and grammars; "Some gapin' glowrin' countra laird Sic clumsy-witted hammers, "Forgive the Bard! My fond regard To you and Willie Chalmers." To Mr James Burnes, of Montrose, the poet's cousin, Mr Lockhart has been indebted for five unpublished letters of Burns. Two of these we shall extract. The first was written in 1789, just after his marriage and establishment at Elliesland. Considering the circumstances which led to his union with Miss Jean Armour, and the scandalous stories which were circulated at the time, it cannot fail to be read with much interest: We may here mention, that we are aware of the existence, and have perused, in his own handwriting, one other unpublished poem by Burns. It is addressed to Clarinda, “(Elliesland, 9th Feb. 1789.)-Why I did not write you and was lately in the possession of Mr Syme of Dum- long ago, is what, even on the rack, I could not answer. fries. It is not, however, one of the poet's most success- If you can in your mind form an idea of indolence, dissiful efforts. Mr Lockhart has likewise recovered an in-pation, hurry, cares, change of country, entering on untried teresting poetical epistle, by Burns, which has never before been given to the public, and which will form not the least valuable addition to his new volume. He thus introduces it to the notice of his readers: "It was at this time, (1787,) I believe, that Burns indited a lively copy of verses, which have never yet been printed, and which I find introduced with the following memorandum, in a small collection of MSS., sent by the poet to Lady H. Don. Mr Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetical epistle to a young lady, his dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:"MADAM, "Wi' braw new branks in mickle pride, And eke a braw new brechan, My Pegasus I'm got astride, And up Parnassus pechin; In the version of this stanza already published, this word is printed dimpled. We prefer rimpled, as more expressive and less commonplace.-ED. scenes of life-all combined, you will save me the trouble of a blushing apology. It could not be want of regard for a man for whom I had a high esteem before I knew him-an esteem which has much increased since I did know him; and, this caveat entered, I shall plead guilty to any other indictment with which you shall please to charge me. The "After I parted from you, for many months my life was one continued scene of dissipation. Here, at last, I am be come stationary, and have taken a farm, and a wife. farm lies beautifully situated on the banks of the Nith, a large river that runs by Dumfries, and falls into the Sol way Frith. I have gotten a lease of my farm as long as I pleased; but how it may turn out is just a guess, as it is yet to improve and enclose, &c.; however, I have good hopes of my bargain on the whole. My wife is my Jean, with whose story you are partly acquainted. I found I had a much-loved fellow-creature's happiness or misery among my hands, and I durst not trifle with so sacred a deposit. Indeed, I have not any reason to repent the step I have taken, as I have attached myself to a very good wife, and have shaken myself loose of a very bad failing. ther company in the same tavern, Burns immediately ad- "I have found my book a very profitable business, and with the profits of it have begun life pretty decently. Should Fortune not favour me in farming, as I have no great faith in her fickle ladyship, I have provided myself in another resource, which, however some folks may affect to despise it, is still a comfortable shift in the day of misfortune. In the heyday of my fame, a gentleman, whose name "He often made extempore rhymes the vehicle of his sarat least I daresay you know, as his estate lies somewhere casm: thus, for example, having heard a person, of no very near Dundee, Mr Graham of Fintry, one of the Commis- elevated rank, talk loud and long of some aristocratic festisioners of Excise, offered me the commission of an Excise-vities in which he had the honour to mingle, Burns, when officer. I thought it prudent to accept the offer; and ac- he was called upon for his song, chanted some verses, of cordingly, I took my instructions, and have my commission which one has been preserved :by me. Whether I may ever do duty, or be a penny the better for it, is what I do not know; but I have the comfortable assurance, that, come whatever ill fate will, I can, on my simple petition to the Excise-Board, get into employ.' The other letter is of a later date, and of a more melancholy nature. It was written to Mr Burnes shortly before the poet's death, when he was alike oppressed by sickness, poverty, and the pride of independence: "My dearest Cousin,-When you offered me money asA sistance, little did I think I should want it so soon. rascal of a haberdasher, to whom I owe a considerable bill, taking it into his head that I am dying, has commenced a process against me, and will infallibly put my emaciated body into jail. Will you be so good as to accommodate me, and that by return of post, with ten pounds? O, James! did you know the pride of my heart, you would feel doubly for me! Alas! I am not used to beg! The worst of it is, my health was coming about finely. You know, and my physician assures me, that melancholy and low spirits are half my disease; guess, then, my horrors since this business began. If I had it settled, I would be, I think, quite well in a manner. How shall I use this language to you? O, do not disappoint me! but strong necessity's curst command! I have been thinking over and over my brother's affairs, and I fear I must cut him up; but on this I will correspond at another time, particularly as I shall want your advice. Forgive me for once more mentioning, by return of post. Save me from the horrors of a jail! My compliments to my friend James, and to all the rest. I do not know what I have written. The subject is so horrible, I dare not look it over again. Farewell! "July 12th, 1796." "R. B. In addition to these relics of one so dear to his native country, and so much admired everywhere, Mr Lockhart has collected a good number of new anecdotes concerning him, some of which he has given in a cluster, and others are scattered up and down the volume. have gleaned the most of these, and shall now place them all in juxta-position for the benefit of our readers : ANECDOTES OF ROBERT BURNS. We "It may naturally excite some surprise, that of the convivial conversation of so distinguished a convivialist, so few specimens have been preserved in the memoirs of his life. The truth seems to be, that those of his companions who chose to have the best memory for such things, happened also to have the keenest relish for his wit and his humour when exhibited in their coarser phases. Among a heap of MSS. memoranda with which I have been favoured, I find but little that one could venture to present in print; and the following specimens of that little must, for the present, suffice. "A gentleman who had recently returned from the East Indies, where he had made a large fortune, which he showed no great alacrity about spending, was of opinion, it seems, one day, that his company had had enough of wine, rather sooner than they came to that conclusion: he offered another bottle in feeble and hesitating terms, and remained dallying with the corkscrew, as if in hopes that some one would interfere and prevent further effusion of Bourdeaux. Sir,' said Burns, losing temper, and betraying in his mood something of the old rusticity- Sir, you have been in Asia, and for aught I know, on the Mount of Moriah, and you seem to hang over your tappit-hen as remorsefully as Abraham did over his son Isaac-Come, sir, to the sacrifice!' "At another party, the society had suffered considerably from the prosing of a certain well-known provincial Bore of the first magnitude; and Burns, as much as any of them, although, overawed, as it would seem, by the rank of the nuisance, he had not only submitted, but condescended to applaud. The Grandee being suddenly summoned to ano 'Of lordly acquaintance you boast, Though it crawl on the curl of a queen.' "I believe I have already alluded to Burns's custom of carrying a diamond pencil with him in all his wanderings, and constantly embellishing inn-windows and so forth with his epigrams. On one occasion, being storm-stayed at Lamington, in Clydesdale, he went to church; and the indignant beadle, after the congregation dispersed, invited the attention of the clergyman to this stanza on the window by which the noticeable stranger had been sitting: 'As cauld a wind as ever blew; "Sir Walter Scott possesses a tumbler, on which are the You're welcome, Willie Stewart; Come, bumpers high, express your joy, The tappit-hen gae bring her ben, To welcome Willie Stewart. 'May foes be strang, and friends be slack, May woman on him turn her back, That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart.' "Since we are among such matters, perhaps some readers will smile to hear, that Burns very often wrote his name on his books thus- Robert Burns, Poet;' and that Allan Cunningham remembers a favourite collie at Elliesland having the same inscription on his collar. "Even to the ladies, when he suspected them of wishing to make a show of him, he could not help administering a little of his village discipline. A certain stately peeress sent to invite him, without, as he fancied, having sufficiently cultivated his acquaintance beforehand, to her assembly. Mr Burns,' answered the bard, will do himself the of - provided her honour of waiting on the ladyship will invite also the learned pig.' Such an animal was then exhibiting in the Grassmarket. "One of the Dumfries volunteers thought fit to affect particular civility to Burns, and inter alia seduced him one day into his house, where a bottle of champagne was produced, and a small collection of arms submitted to the bard's inspection. Burns well knew the gentleman's recent hostility, and appreciated the motives of his courtesy. Do tell me, Mr Burns,' said he, what do you think of this pair of pistols?'-' Why,' said Burns, after considering them with all the gravity of a half-tipsy connoisseur-‘I think I may safely say for your pistols what nobody would say for the great majority of mankind-they're a credit to their maker.' "I may mention here, that during the later years of his life, his favourite book, the usual companion of his solitary rambles, was Cowper's Task. It is pleasing to know that these illustrious contemporaries, in spite of the widely dif ferent circumstances under which their talents were developed, and the, at first sight, opposite sets of opinions which their works express, did justice to each other. No English writer of the time eulogised Burns more generously than Cowper. And in truth they had much in common, The stamp and clear impression of good sense;' the love of simplicity; the love of nature; sympathy with the poor; humour; pathos; satire; warm and manly hearts; the pride, the independence, and the melancholy of genius. Some readers may be surprised to find two such names placed together otherwise than by way of contrast. Let it not be forgotten, that Cowper had done little more than building bird-cages and rabbit-hatches, at the age when the grave closed on Burns." Our readers will now perceive that Mr Lockhart has not trifled with his new edition, but that it is a bona fide enlargement and improvement of the two which have preceded. As such, it will meet with a ready sale whereever the name of Burns is held in the estimation it de serves. Passing from this subject to one not less interesting and intimately connected with it, we have no small pleasure in being the first to announce the existence of a genuine and original portrait of Burns, which has hitherto remained altogether unknown, but which there is every reason to believe is a still more striking likeness than the only portrait of him with which the public has been yet made acquainted-that, namely, which was taken by Nasmyth. The new portrait was painted by the late Peter Taylor, an artist of considerable celebrity at the time Burns made his first appearance in Edinburgh in the year 1786. Mr Taylor was then a very young man, but was looked upon by competent judges as destined soon to rise to the very head of his profession as a portrait-painter. Buchan, Bonnar, and Nasmyth, were his contemporaries, and entertained the highest respect for his abilities. He fell into bad health, and was ordered to the south of France, where he died at an early age. He was of an enterprising spirit, possessed of fine taste, and celebrated for the accuracy of his likenesses. It is recorded of him, as a collateral circumstance, that he was the first who introduced the waxcloth manufactory into Scotland. Taylor and Burns were very intimate, the latter often visiting the artist and his wife. We have it on the authority of Mr William Taylor, merchant in Leith, the present possessor of the portrait, that on one occasion, when Burns was at the painter's house, Taylor said to him," Robie, if you'll sit to have your picture drawn, I will do it." The poet agreed, and the picture, after a good number of sittings, was completed. It is a reminiscence of the Ettrick Shepherd, that upon one occasion, when calling on Mrs Taylor, along with Gilbert Burns, she informed them that Burns used to come pretty frequently to breakfast, on which occasions the picture in question was produced. The portrait, it appears, never went out of the artist's hands, and upon his death became the property of his widow. She had an extraordinary regard for it, and would scarcely permit any one to see it, much less to borrow it. Once, however, she allowed it to go out of her custody for a short time, on the earnest application of the Earl of Buchan, who, about sixteen or eighteen years ago, was anxious to show it to the late Duchess of Gordon. His Lordship afterwards offered forty guineas for the loan of it a second time; but Mrs Taylor, having been displeased by his keeping it a day or two longer than he bargained for before, refused to listen to any terms. All applications from other quarters for permission to have it copied or engraved were uniformly negatived. In 1828, Mrs Taylor bequeathed the portrait to her relative Mr William Taylor, of Leith. Our readers will do us the justice to believe that we state these facts thus minutely, from a full conviction of their fidelity. The portrait does not come to us from the hands of any professional picture-dealer, in which case, aware as we are of the practices of such people, we should have looked upon it with more suspicion. We have ourselves seen it, and as far as our opinion goes, can safely pronounce it an exceedingly interesting, wellpainted, and delicately-finished portrait, in a fine state of preservation. It is a cabinet picture, and is what painters call a two-third likeness. The hat, of a broad-brimmed clerical shape, similar to that which the poet wears in Nasmyth's sketch, given as a vignette in Lockhart's Life, is on the head, and casts a partial shade over the countenance. The colouring is soft and harmonieus; and as to the likeness, means have been taken to obtain the opinions of those persons best qualified to judge, and their sentiments are decisive upon the point. We have seen letters from Sir Walter Scott, Mr Syme of Dumfries Mr Peter Hill, Mr Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Mr David Bridges, junior, Mrs Burns, Mrs Maclehose (Clarinda), Mrs Janet Thomson (formerly Miss Jess Lewers and Miss Dunlop, all of whom agree in speaking of this portrait as amazingly like the original. Sir Walter Scott expresses himself in these terms: "Sir, I was much gratified by the sight of the portrait of Robert Burns. I saw the distinguished port only once, and that many years since, and being a bed marker of likenesses and recollector of faces, I should in an ordinary case have hesitated to offer an opinion upon the resemblance, especially as I make no pretension to judge of the Fine Arts. But Burns was so remarkable a man, that his features remain impressed on my mind as if I had seen him only yesterday; and I could not he sitate to recognise this portrait as a striking resemblance of the Poet, though it had been presented to me amid a whole exhibition. I am, sir, your obedient servant, "WALTER SCOTT. "Edinburgh, 14th Nov. 1829. "P. S.-I will accept of the inscription which you tell me the Proprietors intend putting to the engraving, as a great honour." The postscript refers to the intention to dedicate the Portrait, when engraved, to Sir Walter Scott. In like manner Mrs Burns says,-" I am requested to give my opinion regarding the Portrait of my late husband, painted by P. Taylor. I was not aware that another original portrait had been taken but the one in my possession by Nasmyth. After seeing this one, I have no hesitation in stating my belief that it is original. The likeness to the upper part of the face is very striking."The letter from Clarinda is still stronger. We subjoin it: "Sir, I return you the fine portrait of Burns, taken from the life by the late Mr Peter Taylor, his early friend. In my opinion it is the most striking likeness of the poet I have ever seen; and I say this with the more confidence having a most perfect recollection of his ap pearance. With best thanks for your polite attention in calling to show it to me, and your obliging present of the second edition of the Life, I remain, sir, your obliged servant, "AGNES MACLEHOSE. Edinburgh, 14, Calton Hill, 28th October, 1828." After perusing such testimonials in favour of this portrait, our readers will be glad to learn that it has at length been put into the hands of Horsburgh, one of the best of our Edinburgh engravers, and very little inferior to some of the best in London. He will require about six months to do it full justice; and as soon as it is ready, it is to be published by Messrs Constable & Co. For our own parts, we sincerely rejoice that a treasure of this kind should thus be brought to light; for, by tending to perpetuate that feeling of individuality which we are ever anxious to attach to the illustrious dead, it cannot fail to give to the genius of Burns a more lasting and endearing dwelling place in our bosoms. 66 Memoirs of the Life and Times of Daniel De Foe; containing a Review of his Writings, and his Opinions upon a variety of Important Matters, Civil and Ecclesiastical. By Walter Wilson, Esq. of the Inner Temple. 3 vols. 8vo. Pp. 482, 527, and 685. London. Hurst, Chance, and Co. 1830. THE greater part of these volumes is filled with reviews |