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That is the heart for watchman true
And fondly loved and cherished : they are flown
Before the wand of Science ! Hills and vales,
Mountains and moors of Devon, ye have lost
The enchantments, the delights, the visions all,
The elfin visions that so blessed the sight
Now, in the leafy world, but earthly strains-
Voices, yet sweet, of breeze, and bird, and brook,
And water-fall; the day is silent else,
The immortal music, men of ancient times
Heard ravished oft, are flown! Oh, ye have lost,
Mountains, and moors, and meads, the radiant throngs The Rev. JOHN KEBLE (1792–1866), author of
That dwelt in your green solitudes, and filled
The air, the fields, with beauty and with joy The Christian Year, was the son of a country
Intense ; with a rich mystery that awed clergyman, vicar of Coln-St-Aldwynds, Gloucester
The mind, and flung around a thousand hearths shire. At the early age of fifteen he was elected Divinest tales, that through the enchanted year a scholar of Corpus Christi, Oxford, and having Found passionate listeners ! distinguished himself both in classics and math
The very streams ematics was in 1811 elected to a Fellowship at Brightened with visitings of these so sweet Oriel. He was for some years tutor and examiner Ethereal creatures! They were seen to rise at Oxford, but afterwards lived with his father,
From the charmed waters, which still brighter grew and assisted him as curate. The publication of
As the pomp passed to land, until the eye The Christian Year, and the marvellous success
Scarce bore the unearthly glory. Where they trod, of the work, brought its author prominently before
Young flowers, but not of this world's growth, arose,
And fragrance, as of amaranthine bowers, the public, and in 1833 he was appointed pro
Floated upon the breeze. And mortal eyes fessor of poetry at Oxford. About the same Looked on their revels all the luscious night; time the Tractarian movement began, having
And, unreproved, upon their ravishing forms originated in a sermon on national apostacy, Gazed wistfully, as in the dance they moved, preached by Keble in 1833; Newman became Voluptuous to the thrilling touch of harp leader of the party, and after he had gone Elysian ! over to the Church of Rome, Keble was chief
And by gifted eyes were seen adviser and counsellor. He also wrote some
Wonders—in the still air; and beings bright of the more important Tracts, inculcating, as And beautiful, more beautiful than throng has been said, deep submission to authority,
Fancy's ecstatic regions, peopled now
The sunbeam, and now rode upon the gale implicit reverence for Catholic tradition, firm
Of the sweet summer noon. Anon they touched belief in the divine prerogatives of the priesthood, the real nature of the sacraments, and the
The earth's delighted bosom, and the glades
Seemed greener, fairer-and the enraptured woods danger of independent speculation. Such princi
Gave a glad leafy murmur-and the rills ples, fettering the understanding, are never likely
Leaped in the ray for joy; and all the birds to be popular, but they were held by Keble with Threw into the intoxicating air their songs, şaint-like sincerity and simplicity of character. All soul. The very archings of the grove, In 1835, the poetical divine became vicar of Clad in cathedral gloom from age to age, Hursley, near Winchester. In 1846, he published Lightened with living splendours; and the flowers, a second volume of poems, Lyra Innocentium,
Tinged with new hues and lovelier, upsprung and he was author of a Life of Wilson, Bishop By millions in the grass, that rustled now of Sodor and Man, and editor of an edition of
To gales of Araby!
The seasons came Hooker's Works. The poetry of Keble is char
In bloom or blight, in glory or in shade; acterised by great delicacy and purity both of
The shower or sunbeam fell or glanced as pleased thought and expression. It is occasionally pro
These potent elves. They steered the giant cloud saic and feeble, but always wears a sort of apos- Through heaven at will, and with the meteor flash tolic air, and wins its way to the heart.
Came down in death or sport; ay, when the storm
The tempest ; and, anon, they reined its rage
In its fierce mid career. But ye have flown,
Of Devon, as lags the disenchanted year, His works have been collected into two volumes, Are passionless and silent ! and consist of The Banks of Tamar, 1820 ; Dartmoor (his best poem), 1826; My Native Village; honourable mention.
Some poet-translators of this period merit and miscellaneous pieces.
The Pixies of Devon.
ARCHDEACON WRANGHAM, The age of pixies, like that of chivalry, is gone. There is, pero The Rev. FRANCIS WRANGHAM (1769-1843), haps, at present, scarcely a house which they are reputed to visit. Even the fields and lanes which they formerly frequented seem to rector of Hunmanby, Yorkshire, and archdeacon be nearly forsaken. Their music is rarely heard ; and they appear of Chester, in 1795 wrote a prize-poem on the to have forgotten to attend their ancient midnight dance.—Drew's Restoration of the Jews, and translations in verse. They are flown,
He was the author of four Seaton prize-poems on Beautiful fictions of our fathers, wove
sacred subjects, several sermons, an edition of In Superstition's web when Time was young, Langhorne's Plutarch, and dissertations on the
British empire in the East, on the translation of That, as thou see'st, he yet deserts me not.
At hearing which downward I bent my looks, classical effusions among his friends, were marked And held them there so long, that the bard cried : by fine taste and felicitous adaptation. He con
• What art thou pondering ? I, in answer, thus : tinued his favourite studies to the se of his long
'Alas ! by what sweet thoughts, what fond desire,
Must they at length to that ill pass have reached !' life, and was the ornament and delight of the
Then turning, I to them my speech addressed, society in which he moved.
And thus began : ‘Francesca ! your sad fate,
Even to tears, my grief and pity moves.
But tell me ; in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what and how Love granted, that ye knew The Rev. HENRY FRANCIS CARY (1772-1844), Your yet uncertain wishes.' She replied : by his translation of Dante, has earned a high 'No greater grief than to remember days and lasting reputation. He was early distinguished Of joy, when misery is at hand! That kens as a classical scholar at Christ's Church, Oxford, Thy learned instructor. Yet so eagerly and was familiar with almost the whole range of
If thou art bent to know the primal root, Italian, French, and English literature. In 1805 From whence our love gat being, I will do he published the Inferno of Dante in blank verse,
As one who weeps and tells his tale. One day, and an entire translation of the Divina Commedia,
For our delight, we read of Lancelot,
How him love thralled. Alone we were, and no in the same measure, in 1814. He afterwards
Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading translated the Birds of Aristophanes, and the Odes
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue of Pindar, and wrote short memoirs in continua
Fled from our altered cheek. But at one point tion of Johnson's Lives of the Poets, which, with Alone we fell. When of that smile we read, lives of the early French poets, appeared anony- The wished smile, so rapturously kissed mously in the London Magazine. For some years By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er Mr Cary held the office of assistant-librarian in the From me shall separate, at once my lips British Museum, and enjoyed a pension of £200 All trembling kissed. The book and writer both per annum. A Memoir of this amiable scholar Were love's purveyors. In its leaves that day was written by his son, the Rev. H. Cary, and
We read no more.'
While thus one spirit spake, published in 1847. First brought into notice by
The other wailed so sorely that, heart-struck, the prompt and strenuous exertions of Coleridge,
I, through compassion fainting, seemed not far Mr Cary's version of the Florentine poet passed
From death ; and like a corse fell to the ground. through four editions during the life of the translator. We subjoin a specimen.
Ugolini and his Sons in the Tower of Famine.
During the contests between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, Francesca of Rimini.
in 1289, Count Ugolini with two of his sons and two grandsons,
were confined by Archbishop Ruggieri in a tower; the tower was In the second circle of hell, Dante, in his 'vision,' witnesses the locked, and the key thrown into the Arno, and all food was with. punishment of carnal sinners, who are tossed about ceaselessly in held from them. In a few days, they died of hunger. Dante the dark air by furious winds. Amongst these he meets with
describes the future punishment of Ugolini and the cardinal as Francesca of Rimini, who, with her lover Paolo, was put to death. being 'pent in one hollow of the ice. The awful deaths in the The father of the unfortunate lady was the friend and protector of tower are thus related by the ghost of the count. Dante. I began : ‘Bard ! willingly
A small grate I would address those two together coming,
Within that mew, which for my sake the name Which seem so light before the wind. He thus :
Of famine bears, where others yet must pine, Note thou, when nearer they to us approach,
Already through its opening several moons Then by that love which carries them along,
Had shewn me, when I slept the evil sleep Entreat ; and they will come. Soon as the wind
That from the future tore the curtain off. Swayed them toward us, I thus framed my speech : This one, methought, as master of the sport, 'O wearied spirits ! come and hold discourse
Rode forth to chase the gaunt wolf and his whelps, With us, if by none else restrained.' As doves,
Unto the mountain which forbids the sight By fond desire invited, on wide wings
Of Lucca to the Pisans. With lean brachs, And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,
Inquisitive and keen, before him ranged Cleave the air, wafted by their will along ;
Lanfranchi with Sismondi and Gualandi. Thus issued, from that troop where Dido ranks,
After short course the father and the sons They, through the ill air speeding, with such force
Seemed tired and lagging, and methought I saw My cry prevailed, by strong affection urged.
The sharp tusks gore their sides. When I awoke, O gracious creature, and benign! who goest
Before the dawn, amid their sleep I heard Visiting, through this element obscure,
My sons—for they were with me --weep and ask Us, who the world with bloody stain imbrued ;
For bread. ... If, for a friend, the King of all we owned,
Now had they wakened ; and the hour drew near Our prayer to him should for thy peace arise,
When they were wont to bring us food ; the mind Since thou hast pity on our evil plight.
Of each misgave him through his dream, and I Or whatsoe'er to hear or to discourse
Heard, at its outlet underneath, locked up It pleases thee, that will we hear, of that
The horrible tower : whence, uttering not a word, Freely with thee discourse, while e'er the wind,
I looked upon the visage of my sons.
1 The place to which murderers are doomed.
2 One of the knights of the Round Table, and the lover of ‘Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,
Ginevra, or Guinever, celebrated in romance. Entangled him by that fair form, from me
3 A fine representation of this scene in marble formed part of Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still :
the Manchester Exhibition of 1857. It was from the collection of Love, that denial takes from none beloved,
the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, and was executed by Mr A.
Munro, sculptor, a young artist cut off prematurely by death Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,
I wept not : so all stone I felt within.
Scott, for whom Fame a gorgeous garland weaves, They wept : and one, my little Anselm, cried :
Who what was scattered to the wasting wind, “Thou lookest so ! father, what ails thee?' Yet
As grain too coarse to gather or to bind, I shed no tear, nor answered all that day
Bad'st me collect and gird in goodly sheaves ; Nor the next night, until another sun
If this poor seed hath formed its stalks and leaves, Came out upon the world. When a faint beam
Transplanted from a softer clime, and pined Had to our doleful prison made its way,
For lack of southern suns in soil unkind, And in four countenances I descried
Where Ceres or Italian Flora grieves ; The image of my own, on either hand
And if some fruit, however dwindled, hill Through agony I bit; and they who thought
The doubtful ear, though scant the crop and bareI did it through desire of seeding, rose
Ah, how unlike the growth of Tuscan hili, O'the sudden, and cried : 'Father, we should grieve Where the glad harvest springs behind the shareFar less if thou wouldst eat of us : thou gavest
Peace be to thee! who taught me that to till These weeds of miserable flesh we wear;
Was sweet, however paid the peasant's care. And do thou strip them off from us again.' Then, not to make them sadder, I kept down Besides his translations, Mr Rose was author of a My spirit in stillness. That day and the next volume of poems, entitled The Crusade of St Louis, We were all silent. Ah, obdurate earth!
&c., 1810; and Rhymes, a small volume of epistles Why open’dst not upon us? When we came
to his friends ; tales, sonnets, &c. He was also To the fourth day, then Gaddo at my feet Outstretched did fling him, crying : Hast no help
an occasional contributor to the Edinburgh and For me, my father ?! There he died; and e'en
Quarterly Reviews. Ill-health latterly compelled Mr Plainly, as thou seest me, saw I the three
Rose to withdraw in a great measure from society; Fall one by one 'twixt the fifth day and sixth :
' but in every event and situation of life,' says Whence I betook me, now grown blind, to grope
his biographer, Mr Townsend,' whether of sorrow Over them all, and for three days aloud
or sickness, joy or pleasure, the thoughtful politeCalled on them who were dead. Then, fasting got ness of a perfect gentleman never forsook him.' * The mastery of grief.
And thus he became the best translator of Ariosto,
one of whose merits was that even in jesting he A select descriptive passage of Dante, imitated never forgot that he was a gentleman, while in his by Gray (first line in the Elegy), and by Byron most extraordinary narratives and adventures (Don Juan, canto iii. 108), is thus rendered by there are simple and natural touches of feeling
and expression that command sympathy. The
ottava rima stanza of Ariosto was followed by Rose Now was the hour that wakens fond desire
-Hook in his translation adopted the heroic In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell;
couplet—with marvellous success. As a specimen, And pilgrim newly on his road with love
we give two stanzas : Thrills, if he hear the vesper-bell from far,
Let him make haste his feet to disengage, That seems to mourn for the expiring day.
Nor lime his wings, whom Love has made a prize ;
By universal suffrage of the wise :
And albeit some may shew themselves more sage
Than Roland, they but sin in other guise. WILLIAM STEWART ROSE (1775-1843), the For what proves folly more than on this shelf, translator of Ariosto, and a man of fine talent Thus for another to destroy one's self? and accomplishments, was the second son of Mr George Rose, Treasurer of the Navy, &c. After
Various are love's effects ; but from one source his education at Eton and Cambridge, Mr Rose
All issue, though they lead a different way. was introduced to public life, and he obtained the
He is, as 'twere, a forest where, perforce,
Who enters its recesses go astray; appointment of reading-clerk to the House of Lords.
And here and there pursue their devious course : His tastes, however, were wholly literary. To
In sum, to you, I, for conclusion, say, gratify his father, he began A Naval History of
He who grows old in love, besides all pain the Late War, vol. i., 1802, which he never com- Which waits such passion, well deserves a chain. pleted. His subsequent works were a translation of the romance of Amadis de Gaul, 1803 ; a translation, in verse from the French of Le Grand, of
WILLIAM TAYLOR. Partenoper de Blois, 1807 ; Letters to Henry
One of our earliest translators from the German Hallam, Esq., from the North of Italy, 2 vols., 1819; was William Taylor of Norwich (1765-1836). and a translation of the Animali Parlanti of Casti, In 1796 appeared his version of Burger's Lenore, 1819, to which he prefixed introductory addresses Before the publication of this piece, Mrs Barbauld at each canto to his friends Ugo Foscolo, Frere, who had been the preceptress of Taylor-read it Walter Scott, &c. In 1823, he published a con- to a party in Edinburgh at which Walter Scott densed translation of Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato, and also commenced his version of the was such that he was induced to attempt a version
was present. The impression made upon Scott Orlando Furioso, which was completed in 1831. himself, and though inferior in some respects to The latter is the happiest of Mr Rose's translations; that of Taylor, Scott's translation gave promise it has wonderful spirit
, as well as remarkable of poetical power and imagination. Mr Taylor fidelity, both in form and meaning, to the original. afterwards made various translations from the The translator dedicated his work in a graceful German, which he collected and published in 1830 sonnet to Sir Walter Scott, who,' he says, 'per- under the title of A Survey of German Poetry. suaded me to resume the work, which had been thrown aside, on the ground that such labour was
* Memoir prefixed to Bohn's edition of the Orlando Furioso, its own reward :'
Mr Taylor,' says a critic in the Quarterly Review They would shriek, and wail, and pray: (1843), “must be acknowledged to have been the
It is well for him to-day first who effectually introduced the modern poetry
That his friends are far awayand drama of Germany to the English reader, and
All but one. his versions of the Nathan of Lessing, the Iphigenia of Goethe, and Schiller's Bride of Messina,
Yes, in his mute despair,
The faithful hound is there, are not likely to be supplanted, though none of them are productions of the same order with
He has reached his master's side with a spring. Coleridge's Wallenstein.' In 1843 an interesting
To the hand which reared and fed, Memoir of Taylor, containing his correspondence
Till its ebbing pulse hath fled,
Till that hand is cold and dead, with Southey, was published in two volumes,
He will cling. edited by J. W. Robberds, Norwich.
What art, or lure, or wile,
That one can now beguile
From the side of his master and friend? In 1823 this nobleman (1800-1857) published a He has gnawed his cord in twain ; translation of Goethe's Faust and Schiller's Song
To the arm which strives in vain of the Bell. This volume was followed in 1824 by To repel him, he will strain another, Translations from the German, and
To the end.
Though it dim the veteran's aim, this accomplished nobleman continued to adapt And each breast along the line heave the sigh. popular foreign works—as Pindemonte's Donna
For 'twere cruel now to save; Charitea, Michael Beer's Paria, the Henri Trois
And together in that grave, of Dumas, &c. He translated and re-arranged
The faithful and the brave, Schimmer's Siege of Vienna, and edited the History
Let them lie. of Peter the Cruel, King of Castile and Leon (two vols., 1851). In 1839 he undertook a voyage to
In 1820-22, THOMAS MITCHELL (1783-1845) the Mediterranean in his yacht, and on his return published translations in verse of Aristophanes, in home printed for private circulation The Pilgrim- which the sense and spirit of the Old Comedian age, Mediterranean Sketches, &c., which were
were admirably rendered. Mr Mitchell also afterwards published with illustrations. A dra- edited some of the plays of Sophocles, and supermatic piece, Bluebeard, acted with success at intended the publication of some of the Greek private theatricals, also proceeded from his pen.
works which issued from the Oxford Clarendon He occasionally contributed an article to the press. Quarterly Review, and took a lively interest in all
VISCOUNT STRANGFORD (1780–1855), long the questions affecting literature and art. Of both he British ambassador at Lisbon and other foreign was a munificent patron. His lordship, by the courts, in 1803 published a version of Poems from death of his father, the first Duke of Sutherland, the Portuguese of Camoens, with remarks on his in 1833), succeeded to the great Bridgewater Life and Writings. The translation was generestates in Lancashire, and to his celebrated ally condemned for its loose and amatory chargallery of pictures, valued at £150,000. He was acter, but some of the lyrical pieces have much raised to the peerage as Earl of Ellesmere ip 1846. beauty. A sarcastic notice of Strangford will be The translations of this nobleman are character: found in Byron's English Bards and Scotch ised by elegance and dramatic spirit, but his Reviewers, and Moore dedicated to him one of Faust is neither very vigorous nor very faithful. his finest epistles. To the last, the old nobleman His original poetry is graceful, resembling, though delighted in literary and antiquarian pursuits, and inferior, that of Rogers. We subjoin one speci
was much esteemed.
After the publication of Fergusson's poems, in a
collected shape, in 1773, there was an interval of No mercy now can save; They have dug the yawning grave,
about thirteen years, during which no writer of And the hapless and the brave
eminence arose in Scotland who attempted to Kneels beside.
excel in the native language of the country. The
intellectual taste of the capital ran strongly in No bandage wraps his eye ;
favour of metaphysical and critical studies; but He is kneeling there to die,
the Doric muse was still heard in the rural disUnblinded, undaunted, alone.
tricts linked to some popular air, some local His latest prayer has ceased,
occurrence or favourite spot, and was much And the comrade and the priest,
cherished by the lower and middle classes of From their last sad task released, Both are gone.
the people. In the summer of 1786, ROBERT
BURNS, the Shakspeare of Scotland, issued his His kindred are not near
first volume from the obscure press of Kilmarnock, The fatal knell to hear,
and its influence was immediately felt, and is They can but weep when the deed 'tis done; still operating on the whole imaginative literature
of the kingdom.* Burns was then in his twenty- beating with warm and generous emotions, a seventh year, having been born in the parish strong and clear understanding, and a spirit of Alloway, near Ayr, on the 25th of January 1759. abhorring all meanness, insincerity, and oppresHis father was a poor farmer, a man of sterling sion, Burns, in his early days, might have furworth and intelligence, who gave his son what nished the subject for a great and instructive education he could afford. The whole, however, moral poem. The true elements of poetry were was but a small foundation on which to erect the in his life, as in his writings. The wild stirrings miracles of genius! Robert was taught English of his ambition-which he so nobly compared to well, and ' by the time he was ten or eleven years the 'blind gropings of Homer's Cyclops round of age, he was a critic in substantives, verbs, and the walls of his cave'-the precocious maturity. particles. He was also taught to write, had a of his passions and his intellect, his manly frame, fortnight's French, and was one summer quarter that led him to fear no competitor at the plough, at land-surveying. He had a few books, among and his exquisite sensibility and tenderness, that which were the Spectator, Pope's works, Allan made him weep over even the destruction of a Ramsay, and a collection of English Songs. Sub- daisy's flower or a mouse's nest-these are all sequently-about his twenty-third year-his read-moral contrasts or blendings that seem to belong ing was enlarged with the important addition of to the spirit of romantic poetry. His writings, as Thomson, Shenstone, Sterne, and Mackenzie. we now know, were but the fragments of a great Other standard works soon followed. As the mind-the hasty outpourings of a full heart and advantages of a liberal education were not within intellect. After he had become the fashionable his reach, it is scarcely to be regretted that his wonder and idol of his day-soon to be cast into library was at first so small. What books he had, cold neglect and poverty !-some errors and he read and studied thoroughly—his attention was frailties threw a shade on the noble and affecting not distracted by a multitude of volumes and image, but its higher lineaments were never his mind grew up with original and robust vigour. destroyed. The column was defaced, not broken ; It is impossible to contemplate the life of Burns and now that the mists of prejudice have cleared at this time, without a strong feeling of affection- away, its just proportions and symmetry are ate admiration and respect. His manly integrity recognised with pride and gratitude by his adof character—which, as a peasant, he guarded miring countrymen. with jealous dignity—and his warm and true Burns came as a potent auxiliary or fellowheart, elevate him, in our conceptions, almost as worker with Cowper, in bringing poetry into the much as the native force and beauty of his poetry. channels of truth and nature. There was only We see him in the veríest shades of obscurity, about a year between the Task and the Cotter's toiling, when a mere youth, like a galley-slave,' Saturday Night. No poetry was to support his virtuous parents and their house instantaneously or universally popular among a hold, yet grasping at every opportunity of acquir- people than that of Burns in Scotland. A coning knowledge from men and books—familiar with temporary, Robert Heron, who then resided in the history of his country, and loving its very soil Galloway, contiguous to Ayrshire, states that old -worshipping the memory of Scotland's ancient and young, high and low, learned and ignorant, patriots and defenders, and exploring the scenes were alike transported with the poems, and that and memorials of departed greatness-loving also even ploughmen and maid-servants would gladly the simple peasantry around him, 'the sentiments have bestowed the wages they earned, if they and manners he felt and saw in himself and his but might procure the works of Burns. The rustic compeers.'. Burning with a desire to do volume, indeed, contained matter for all minds something for old Scotland's sake, with a heart --for the lively and sarcastic, the wild and the
thoughtful, the poetical enthusiast and the man * The edition consisted of 600 copies. A second was published
of the world. So eagerly was the book sought in Edinburgh in April 1787, as many as 2800 copies being after that, where copies of it could not be subscribed for by 1500 individuals. After his unexampled popu- obtained, many of the poems were transcribed larity in Edinburgh, Burns took the farm of Ellisland, near and sent round in manuscript among admiring occupation at Whitsunday 1788. He had obtained—what he circles. The subsequent productions of the poet anxiously desired as an addition to his means as a farmer an did not materially affect the estimate of his own convivial habits, interfered with his management of the farm, powers formed from his first volume. His life and he was glad to abandon it. In 1791 he removed to the town was at once too idle and too busy for continof Dumfries, subsisting entirely on his situation in the Excise,
uous study; and, alas ! it was too 'brief for the which yielded £70 per annum, with an occasional windfall from smuggling seizures
. His great ambition was to be a supervisor, full maturity and development of his talents. from which preferment it was said his political heresies' excluded Where the intellect predominates equally with the ministered to the poet, it must have been verbal, for no censure imagination-and this was the case with Burns against him was recorded in the excise books. He was on the list increase of years generally adds to the strength for promotion, and had he lived six months longer he would, in the and variety of the poet's powers; and we have no Burns published a third edition of his Poems, with the addition of doubt that, in ordinary circumstances, Burns, like Tam Shanter, and other pieces composed at Ellisland. A Dryden, would have improved with age, and this seems to have been the last authorised edition in the poet's added greatly to his fame, had he not fallen at so lifetime. He died at Dumfries on the 21st of July 1796, aged early a period, before his imagination could be thirty-seven years and about six months
. The story of the poet's enriched with the riper fruits of knowledge and unnecessary. The valuable edition of Dr Currie appeared in 1800, experience. He meditated a national drama; and realised a sum of £1400 for Burns's widow and family. It but we might have looked with more confidence contained the correspondence of the poet, and a number of songs for a series of tales like Tam o' Shanter, which contributed to Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, and Thomson's Select Scottish Melodies. The editions of Burns since 1800 —with the elegy on Captain Matthew Hendercould with difficulty be ascertained; they were reckoned a few son, one of the most highly finished and most. years ago at about a hundred. His poems circulate in every shape, and have not yet 'gathered all their famc.'
precious of his works-was produced in his happy