of a promises. On erasing from tam, the wandered about the thetrop the 137-Area. These vi vntained a lodging at an 11 ing to resort to the image as a means ĐỂ Axellbood, the apolled to Me Inevaid of Drury Lane 1 teatre, through whose rodaction soe was engage Ea country theatre, the manager of whica treated her with great coprestides, and gave her instructions in her pro

On one occasion, however, haring intimated that he expected other return for his kindness than her services in the theatre, the indignant subject of our memoir threw a basin of, boling water in his face, and rushed from the house to Mr. Inchbald. This gentleman offered to secure her from fut reinault, by becoming her husband, and they were accordingly married. After playing at Edinburgh for four years, Mrs. Inchbald visited the continent, and shortly after her return became a widow, and again appeared on the London stage. This was in October, 1780, when she made her debut at Covent Garden Theatre, as Beilario, in Philaster. Her personal

Der from de scure in 179.

She int. ʼn the THE the E We Mack mens is to the Descuman if ber teletraced novels of The Some Surt, and Nature and Art, that she was ver chief fame as an it retune pachos and 50mestic literes these performances have never been stTVERED TO SIT DIGLITZ TẾ the best timed to them, for the mora which they incline, and the Dear and impressive style in which they are composed Mrs. Inchbald, who was of the Roman catholic persuasion, dies at Kenings, on the 1st of August, 1991; and it is said that a short time previous to her demase, she repurchased her autobiography, which she had formerly soud for a large sum, and had the manuscript consumed in ber presence. She was highly respected by al who knew her, and had the credit of having passed through a life of temptation with unblemished reputation. Besides edlung a collection of dramas, entitled The British Theatre, and of farces, called The Modern Theatre, Mrs. Inchbaid wrote the following dramatic pieces:-A Mogul Tale. Appearance is Against Them, I'll Tell You What, The Widow's Vow, Al on a Summer's Day, Animal Magnetism, The Child of Nature. Midnight Hour, Such Things Are, Married Man, The

Hue and Cry, Next Door Neighbours, Young Men and Old Women, Every One Has His Fault, The Wedding Day, Wives as they Were and Maids as they Are, Lovers' Vows, Wise Man of the East, and To Marry or Not to Marry.

Her remarks in The British Theatre on Colman's Inkle and Yarico, drew from the author an indignant reply,

wherein he styled Mrs. Inchbald “a second Madame Dacier." In her rejoinder, she expressed the honour she felt by the comparison which he drew in her favour, but at the same time, called on him to remember that, by so doing, he placed himself on the same footing with Homer, whose works had been the subject of Madame Dacier's criticism.

ROBERT BURNS, the son of William Burnes, or Burness, was born on the 25th of January, 1759, in a claybuilt cottage, about two miles to the south of the town of Ayr, in Scotland. His father, who was a gardener and small farmer, appears to have been a man highly and deservedly respected, and Burns' description of him as "the saint, the father, and the husband," of the Cottar's Saturday Night, attests the affectionate reverence with which he regarded him. At the age of six years, Robert was sent to a small school at Alloway Miln, then superintended by a teacher named Campbell; but who, retiring shortly after, was succeeded by a Mr. John Murdoch. Under the tuition of this gentleman, the subject of our memoir made rapid progress in reading, spelling, and writing; and, though, to use his own words, "it cost the schoolmaster some thrashings," he soon became an excellent English scholar. A love of reading, and a thirst for general knowledge were observable at an early age; and before he had attained his seventeenth year, he had read Salmon's and Guthrie's Geographical Grammars, the Lives of Hannibal and Wallace, The Spectator, Pope's Works, some of Shakspeare's Plays, Tull and Dickson on Agriculture, Tooke's Pantheon, Locke's Essay on the Understanding, Stackhouse's History of the Bible, The British Gardener's Directory, Boyle's Lectures, Allan Ramsay's Works, Taylor's Scripture Doctrine of Original Sin, Hervey's Meditations, and a Collection of Songs. These works formed the whole of his collection, as mentioned by himself in

a letter to Dr. Moore; but his brother Gilbert adds to this list Derham's Physico and Astro-Theology, and a few other works. Of this varied assortment, the Collection of Songs," says the poet himself, "was my vade-mecum. I pored over them, driving my cart, or walking to labour, song by song, verse by verse; carefully noticing the true tender and sublime, from affectation or fustian; and I am convinced I owe to this practice much of my critic-craft, such as it is."

With Mr. Murdoch, Burns remained for about two years, during the last few weeks of which the preceptor himself took lessons in the French language, and communicated the instructions he received to his pupil, who, in a short time, obtained a sufficient knowledge of French to enable him to read and understand any prose author in that language. The facility with which he acquired the French, induced him to commence the rudiments of Latin, but whether from want of diligence, or of time, or that he found the task more irksome than he anticipated, he soon abandoned his design of acquiring a knowledge of the language of the Romans.

Mr. Murdoch having been compelled to leave Ayr, in consequence of some inadvertent expressions directed against Dr. Dalrymple, the elder Burns himself undertook, for a time, the tuition of his family. When Robert, however, was about fourteen years of age, his father sent him and Gilbert, "week about, during the summer quarter," to a parish school, by which means they alternately improved themselves in writing, and

assisted their parents in the labours of a small farm. According to our poet's own account, he, as he says, first committed the sin of rhyme a little before he had attained his sixteenth year. The inspirer of his muse was love, the object of which he describes as a "bonnie, sweet, sonsie lass," whose charms he was anxious to celebrate in verse. "I was not so presumptuous," he says, 66 as to imagine that I could make verses like printed ones, composed by men who had Greek and Latin; but my girl sung a song, which was said to be composed by a small country laird's son, on one of his father's maids, with whom he was in love; and I saw no reason why I might not rhyme as well as he: for, excepting that he I could shear sheep, and cast peats, his father living in the moorlands, he had no more scholar-craft than myself. Thus with me began love and poetry."

The production alluded to is the little ballad commencing

Oh! once I loved a bonnie lass. which Burns himself characterized as

"a very puerile and silly performance;" yet, adds Mr. Lockhart, it contains, here and there, lines of which he need hardly have been ashamed at any period of his life. "In my seventeenth year," says Burns," to give my manners a brush, I went to a country dancingschool. My father had an unaccountable antipathy against these meetings, and my going was, what to this moment I repent, in opposition to his wishes." Then, referring to his views in life, he continues-" The great misfortune of my life was to want an aim. I had felt early some stirrings of ambition, but they were the blind gropings of Homer's Cyclops round the walls of his cave. The only two openings, by which I could enter the temple of Fortune, were the gate of niggardly economy, or the path of little chicaning bargain-making. The first is so contracted an aperture, I never could squeeze myself into it: the last I always hated-there was contamination in the very entrance. Thus abandoned to no view or aim in life, with a strong appetite for sociability, as well from native hilarity as from a pride of observation and remark; a constitutional melancholy, or hypochondriacism, that made

me fly from solitude; add to these incentives to social life, my reputation for bookish knowledge, a certain wild logical talent, and a strength of thought something like the rudiments of good sense; and it will not seem surprising that I was generally a welcome guest where I visited, or any great wonder that always, where two or three met together, there was I among them." In this state of mind he entered recklessly upon a dissipated career, giving loose to his passions, and indulging his taste for literature, with as much irregularity and skill as he applied himself to the plough, the scythe, and the reapinghook. To use his own expression, "Vive l'amour, et vive la bagatelle," were his sole principles of action. his nineteenth year, he passed some time at a school, when he learnt mensuration, surveying, &c., and also improved himself in other respects, particularly in composition; which he attributes chiefly to a perusal of a collection of letters, by the wits of Queen Anne's reign.

In

In his twenty-third year, partly, as he says, through whim, and partly that he wished to set about doing something in life, he entered the service of a flaxdresser, at Irvine, for the purpose of learning his trade; but an accidental fire, which burnt down the shop, put an end to his speculations. After his father's death, which occurred in February, 1784, he took the farm of Mossgiel, in conjunction with his brother Gilbert. "I entered on it," says Burns, "with a firm resolution, Come, go to, I will be wise!' I read farming books; I calculated crops; I attended markets; and, in short, in spite of the devil, the world and the flesh,' I believe I should have been a wise man; but, the first year, from unfortunately buying bad seed,-the second, from a late harvest, we lost half our crops. This overset all my wisdom, and I returned, like the dog to his vomit, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.'" In other words, he resigned the share of the farm to his brother, and returned to habits of intemperance and irregularity. It was during his occupation of the farm of Mossgiel, that Burns first became acquainted with Jane Armour, his future wife. This lady, who still survives as

the widow of the poet, was the daughter of a respectable mason, in the village of Mouchline, where she was at the time the reigning toast. The consequence of this acquaintance, which quickly ripened into mutual love, was soon such that the connexion could no longer be concealed; and, though the details of this story are, perhaps, as yet but imperfectly known, it seems, at least, certain, that Burns was anxious to shield the partner of his imprudence to the utmost in his power. It was, therefore, agreed between them, that he should give her a written acknowledgment of marriage, and then immediately sail for Jamaica, and push his fortune there, and that she should remain with her father until her plighted husband had the means of supporting a family. This arrangement, however, did not satisfy the lady's father; who, having but a very indifferent opinion of Burns's general character, was not to be appeased, and prevailed on his daughter to destroy the document, which was the only evidence of her marriage. Under these circumstances, Jane Armour became the mother of twins, and the poet was summoned by the parishofficers to find security for the maintenance of children which he had thus been prevented from legitimatizing according to the Scottish law.

In a state of mind bordering closely on insanity, Burns now resolved to fly the country; and, after some trouble, he agreed with Dr. Douglas, who had an estate in Jamaica, to go thither as overseer. Before sailing, however, he was advised, by his friends, to publish his poems by subscription, in order to provide him with necessaries for the voyage, and he consented to this expedient, as an experiment which could not injure, and might essentially benefit him. Subscribers' names were obtained for about three hundred and fifty copies, and six hundred were printed. The collection was very favourably received by the public, and the author realized, all expenses deducted, a profit of about twenty pounds. "This sum," says he, "came very seasonably; as I was thinking of indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price that was to waft me to the torrid zone, I

took a steerage-passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde; for

Hungry ruin had me in the wind.

. I had been some days skulking from covert to covert, under all the terrors of a gaol; as some ill-advised people had uncoupled the merciless pack of the law at my heels. I had taken the last farewell of my few friends; my chest was on the road to Greenock; I had composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia-The Gloomy Night is Gathering Fast; when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend of mine, overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my poetic ambition." This was a recommendation to him to proceed to Edinburgh, to superintend the publication of a second edition of his poems; and he accordingly turned his course to the Scotch metropolis, which he reached in September, 1786. He had already been noticed with much kindness by the Earl of Glencairn, the celebrated Professor Stewart and his lady, Dr. Hugh Blair, and others; and his personal appearance and demeanour exceeding the expectation that had been formed of them, he soon became an object of general curiosity and interest, and was an acceptable guest in the gayest and highest circles. He also received, from the literati of the day every tribute of praise which the most sanguine author could desire.

not

Edinburgh, says Dr. Currie, contained, at this period, many men of considerable talents, who were the most conspicuous for temperance and regularity. Burns entered into several parties of this description with the usual vehemence of his character. His generous affection, and brilliant imagination, fitted him to be the idol of such associations; and, by indulging himself in these festive recreations, he gradually lost a great portion of his relish for the purer pleasures to be found in the circles of taste, elegance, and literature. He saw his danger, and, at times, formed resolutions to guard against it; but he had embarked on the tide of dissipation, and was borne along its stream.

After having sojourned for nearly a year in the Scottish metropolis, and acquired a sum of money more than sufficient for his present demands, he

determined to gratify a desire he had long entertained of visiting some of the most interesting districts of his native country. For this purpose he left Edinburgh on the 6th of May, 1787; and after visiting various places celebrated in the rural songs of Scotland, he returned to his family in Mossgiel, where he arrived about the 8th of July. The reception he met with at home was enthusiastic; and among those who were now willing to renew his acquaintance, was the family of Jane Armour, with whom Burns was speedily reconciled. After remaining for a few days only at Mossgiel, he made a short tour to Inverary, and afterwards to the highlands, whence he returned to Edinburgh, and remained there during the greater part of the winter of 1787-8, again entering freely into society and dissipation. Having settled with his publisher, in February, 1788, he was delighted to find there was a balance due to him, as the actual profit of his poems, of nearly £500. At this juncture, he was confined to the house "with a bruised limb, extended on a cushion;" but as soon as he was able to bear the journey, he rode to Mossgiel, advanced his brother Gilbert (who was struggling with many difficulties) the sum of £200; married Jane Armour; and, with the remainder of his capital, took the farm of Elliesland, on the banks of the Nith, six miles above Dumfries.

A short time previously to this, it should be mentioned, that Burns had obtained, through a friend, an appointment in the Excise; but with no intention of making use of his commission except on some reverse of fortune. He now took possession of his farm; but as the house required rebuilding, Mrs. Burns could not, for some time, remove thither, a circumstance peculiarly unfortunate, as it caused him to lead a very irregular and unsettled life. The determination, which he had formed, of abandoning his dissipated pursuits was broken in upon, and his industry was frequently interrupted by visiting his family in Ayrshire. As the distance was too great for a single day's journey, he generally spent a night at an inn on the road, and on such occasions, falling into company, all his resolutions were forgotten. Temptation also awaited him, nearer home: he was received at

the tables of the neighbouring gentry with kindness and respect, and these social parties too often seduced him from the labours of his farm, and his domestic duties, in which the happiness and welfare of his family were now involved. Mrs. Burns joined her husband at Elliesland, in November, 1788; and, as she had, during the autumn, lain-in of twins, they had now five childrenfour boys and a girl. On this occasion, Burns resumed, at times, the occupation of a labourer, and found neither his strength nor his skill impaired. Sentiments of independence cheered his mind,-pictures of domestic content and peace rose on his imagination,-and a few "golden days" passed away,-the happiest, perhaps, which he had ever experienced. But these were not long to last the farming speculation was soon looked on with despondence, and neglected; and the Excise became the only resource. In this capacity, in reference to which beggarly provision for their bard, Mr. Coleridge indignantly calls upon his friend Lamb, to gather a wreath of "henbane-nettles and nightshade,"

To twine

The illustrious brow of Scotch nobility,

poor Burns was necessarily brought into contact with low associates, and intemperance soon became his tyrant. Unable to reconcile the two occupations, his farm was in a great measure abandoned to his servants, and agriculture but seldom occupied his thoughts. Meantime, there were seldom wanting persons to lead him to a tavern: to applaud the sallies of his wit; and to witness at once the strength and degradation of his genius. The consequences may be easily imagined: at the expiration of about three years, he was compelled to relinquish his lease, and to rely upon his income of £70 per annum, as an exciseman, till he should obtain promotion. With this intention, he removed to a small house in Dumfries, about the end of the year 1791. In 1792, he contributed to Thomson's collection of Scottish songs; and, about the same time, formed a sort of book society in his neighbourhood. In the meantime, he appears to have given offence to the board of Excise, by some intemperate conduct and expressions relative to the French revolution,