The Canongate Burns

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by Robert Burns


  The scourge of the seas and the dread of the shore;

  35 The wild Scandinavian boar issued forth,

  To wanton in carnage and wallow in gore:

  O’er countries and kingdoms their fury prevail’d,

  No arts could appease them, no arms could repel;

  But brave Caledonia in vain they assail’d,

  40 As Largs well can witness, and Loncartie tell. —

  Thus bold, independent, unconquer’d and free,

  Her bright course of glory for ever shall run;

  For brave Caledonia immortal must be,

  I’ll prove it from Euclid as clear as the sun:

  45 Rectangle-triangle, the figure we’ll chuse,

  The upright is Chance, and old Time is the Base;

  But brave Caledonia’s the Hypothenuse,

  Then, Ergo, she’ll match them, and match them always. —

  This was sent to Johnson for the S.M.M. but was first printed by Currie in 1800. It is a patriotic song which, set in a semi-mythical past, conceives of Caledonia as descended from Pictish Odin. Caledonia retains its integrity by repulsing a series of invaders. The ‘eagles from Adria’s strand’ (l. 18) refer to the Romans. The ‘Camelon Savage’ (l. 25) alludes to the area of Falkirk, the ‘ancient Metropolis of the Picts’ as remarked by Burns in his tour of the Highlands (Journal of a Tour in the Highlands, l. 12). The battle of 685 AD (ll. 30–2) refers to the Picts’ victory over the Normans of Northumbria. The ‘Harpy-Raven’ (l. 33) refers to the Danish and the ‘Scandinavian Boar’ (l. 35), the Norwegians. The Scots victories over Haakon’s fleet at Largs (1263) and the defeat of Norsemen at Loncartie (990) are mentioned (l. 40). Hence, the ‘spirit’ of Caledonia, first manifest as the martial warfaring strength of the Picts, is eventually inherited by the Scots. This historical vision is uncharacteristic of Burns’s customary pessimistic view of the degeneration of Scottish nationhood by virtue of its relationship with the ‘Anglian Lion’ (ll. 29–32). See, in particular, Ode on General Washington’s Birthday.

  At Whigham’s Inn, Sanquhar

  First printed in The Burns Chronicle, 1896.

  Envy, if thy jaundiced eye,

  Through this window chance to spy,

  To thy sorrow thou shalt find,

  All that’s generous, all that’s kind,

  Friendship, virtue, every grace,

  Dwelling in this happy place.

  These lines were written by Burns on a window-pane at the Queensberry Arms, Sanquhar. They were also found in a copy of the Kilmarnock edition, gifted to Edward Whigham (1750–1823), the innkeeper, who later became Provost of the Burgh. Burns probably visited the inn while travelling between Mauchline and Ellisland.

  To William Stewart

  First printed in Notes and Queries, Vol. IV, 1881.

  Brownhill, Monday even:

  Dear Sir,

  In honest Bacon’s ingle-neuk, fireside corner

  Here maun I sit and think; must

  5 Sick o’ the warld and warld’s fock, world, folk

  An’ sick, damn’d sick, o’ drink!

  I see, I see there is nae help,

  But still down I maun sink; must

  Till some day, laigh enough, I yelp, low

  10 ‘Wae worth that cursed drink!’

  Yestreen, alas! I was sae fu’, so full/drunk

  I could but yisk and wink; burp

  And now, this day, sair, sair I rue, sore

  The weary, weary drink. —

  15 Satan, I fear thy sooty claws,

  I hate thy brunstane stink, brimstone

  And ay I curse the luckless cause,

  The wicked soup o’ drink. —

  In vain I would forget my woes

  20 In idle rhyming clink,

  For past redemption damn’d in Prose,

  I can do nought but drink. —

  For you, my trusty, well-try’d friend,

  May Heaven still on you blink;

  25 And may your life flow to the end,

  Sweet as a dry man’s drink!

  Robt. Burns.

  This was composed at Brownhill Inn, several miles from Ellisland on the road towards Sanquhar. William Stewart was brother-in-law of Bacon, the landlord at Brownhill. Stewart was a close friend of Burns and is mentioned in the song Your Welcome, Willie Stewart (See Letter 253). For comments on drink by Burns, see Letters 467, 482, 506 and 529.

  Lines Written in Lamington Kirk

  First printed in Lockhart, 1828.

  As cauld a wind as ever blew; cold

  A caulder kirk, and in’t but few;

  As cauld a minister’s ever spak;

  Ye’se a’ be het or I come back. be hot [in Hell]

  It has become customary for editors to accept this without manuscript evidence. It was first printed by Lockhart in 1828 from lines supposedly inscribed by Burns on a window pane of the Kirk at Lamington, which sits off the old Dumfries to Edinburgh road. It probably is by Burns.

  Inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox

  First printed in part by Currie, 1800; completed in Aldine, 1839.

  How Wisdom and Folly meet, mix, and unite;

  How Virtue and Vice blend their black and their white;

  How Genius, th’ illustrious father of fiction,

  Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction,

  5 I sing; if these mortals, the Critics, should bustle,

  I care not, not I, let the Critics go whistle!

  But now for a Patron, whose name and whose glory

  At once may illustrate and honor my story: —

  Thou, first of our orators, first of our wits,

  10 Yet whose parts and acquirements seem mere lucky hits;

  With knowledge so vast, and with judgment so strong,

  No man, with the half of ’em, e’er could go wrong;

  With passions so potent, and fancies so bright,

  No man with the half of ’em e’er could go right;

  15 A sorry, poor, misbegot son of the Muses,

  For using thy name offers fifty excuses. —

  Good Lord, what is Man! for as simple he looks,

  Do but try to develope his hooks and his crooks,

  With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil,

  20 All in all, he ’s a problem must puzzle the Devil. —

  On his one ruling Passion Sir Pope hugely labours,

  That, like th’ old Hebrew walking switch, eats up its neighbours;

  Human Nature ’s his show-box—your friend, would you know him?

  Pull the string Ruling Passion, the picture will show him. —

  25 What pity, in rearing so beauteous a system,

  One trifling particular, Truth, should have miss’d him!

  For spite of his fine theoretic positions,

  Mankind is a science defies definitions. —

  Some sort all our qualities each to its tribe,

  30 And think Human Nature they truly describe.

  Have you found this, or t’other! there’s more in the wind,

  As by one drunken fellow his comrades you’ll find. —

  But such is the flaw, or the depth of the plan

  In the make of that wonderful creature called MAN,

  35 No two virtues whatever relation they claim,

  Nor even two different shades of the same,

  Though like as was ever twin brother to brother,

  Possessing the one must imply you’ve the other. —

  But truce with abstraction, and truce with a Muse,

  40 Whose rhymes you’ll perhaps, Sir, ne’er deign to peruse:

  Will you leave your justings, your jars and your quarrels,

  Contending with Billy for proud-nodding laurels?

  (My much-honor’d Patron, believe your poor Poet,

  Your courage much more than your prudence you show it;

  45 In vain with Squire Billy for laurels you struggle,

  He’ll have them by fair trade, if not, he w
ill smuggle;

  Nor cabinets even of kings would conceal ’em,

  He’d up the back-stairs and by God he would steal ’em!

  Then feats like Squire Billy’s you ne’er can atchieve ’em,

  50 It is not, outdo him, the task is, outthieve him.) —

  This poetic sketch, inscribed to Charles James Fox (1749–1806), was clearly intended as a current affairs newspaper poem in the Spring of 1789. There is, however, no evidence that it was printed during the poet’s lifetime. Peter Stuart of the London Star would never have printed it, given that it is not wholly laudatoty of Fox (See Ode on the Departed Regency Bill). An early draft was sent to Mrs Dunlop (Letter 335). The iambic-anapaestic metre, with its alliterative lines, is a form used by Prior, Swift and Goldsmith for satirical verse.

  A partly comic mini-dissertation on human nature, Burns creates a light hearted, mock discussion of the struggle going on in the head of Charles James Fox, to debate whether knowledge will be overwhelmed by passion, or virtue will be victorious over vice, in the world of power and ambition. But, like the wooden show-box amusement cabinet (l. 23), found at country fairs, human nature cannot simply be shown by pulling a string. Unlike Pope’s complex, lengthy Essay on Man, there is no panacea, ‘one ruling Passion’ (l. 21), for Burns. Ending rather like a Punch and Judy show, the joking advice to Fox is not to contend with Billy [William Pitt] for ‘laurels’ but copy his dishonest career through thieving. The ‘Hebrew walking switch’ (l. 22) alludes to Aaron’s rod, from Exodus, vii. Fox, like John Thelwall and other leading radicals of the period, admired Burns’s poetry, but this would have left him perplexed.

  Burns wrote to Mrs Dunlop on 4th May, 1789: ‘I have another Poetic whim in my head, which I at present dedicate or rather inscribe to… Fox… but how long the fancy may hold, I can’t say.’ This should not be again misdiagnosed as another example of Burns’s political inconsistency. The difficulty was not in the poet but his subject. Fox, psychologically and politically, was and, indeed, remains an enigma. Was he a political idealist or a careerist trimmer? There was, as seen in Burns’s earlier poetic treatment of him, the saturnine reckless gambler and inveterate womaniser who, until stopped by the mistress he later married, spat on the carpet till his mid-thirties (and did so in the House of Commons). There was the bibliophile and scholar who expressed the wish to withdraw from the world and write a study of Dryden. Indeed the aristocrat and ploughman shared, given Dryden’s politics, a somewhat unlikely passion for his poetry. Fox, of course, had a classical training of a kind simply not available to Burns. Fox knew and admired Burns’s poetry, believing him Cowper’s superior, but he had no time for Wordsworth’s poetry or his attempt to elicit patronage from him. As L.G. Mitchell noted in Charles James Fox:

  With rare exceptions, English literature was a poor, grey thing, when compared to that of Europe…. Pope had written some useful lines, and, among his contemporaries, Burns and Campbell were worthy of some consideration. Even so, the list is a short one. Significantly, Fox saw no value whatever in the Lake School of poetry, and seemed indeed to be actively hostile to it …

  … Poetry, in the 1790s, by its subject-matter and structure, could not avoid also being politics. Fox’s rejection of Wordsworth and his friends was more than an aesthetic judgement. Foxite Whiggery felt altogether more at home in the classical world. Reading two ancient and three modern languages, Fox was not short of reading-matter that offered more pleasure and less risk than the foggy productions of the Lake District (Oxford, 1992, pp. 187–8).

  Fox’s response to Wordsworth takes us to the heart of his political enigma. To what degree was he a democrat or an ambitious factional leader of élite Whig power? This problem is cogently discussed by J.R. Dinwiddy in ‘Charles James Fox and the People’ in his Radicalism and Reform in Britain 1780–1850 (London, 1992) where he cites this incisive comment from The Edinburgh Review in 1838:

  Of Mr. Fox it must be said that while his political principles were formed upon the true model of the Whig School, and led him when combined with his position as opposing the Government’s warlike and oppressive policy, to defend the liberty of America, and the cause of peace, both in that and the French war, yet he constantly modified these principles, according to his own situation and circumstances as a party chief;—making the ambition of the man and the interest of his followers the governing rule of his conduct (p. 17).

  Burns is characteristic of other radicals who earlier were in varying degrees sceptical of Fox but who, in the darkening 1790s, coalesced around him as the anti-war leader and the opponent of the increasing royal power which Fox saw as akin to the struggle of the 17th century against monarchical divine right. There was a particularly strong Scottish Foxite faction which included figures of the intelligence and substance of Professor John Millar and Dr Alexander Geddes. Burns never was such a Foxite hyper-enthusiast. As in the marvellous On Glenriddell’s Fox Breaking Its Chain, there was always in him a healthy degree of scepticism about the disparity between aristocratic Whig ideals, intentions and actual conduct. What this poem does show is, however, a degree of personal identification of Burns with Fox due, as with Charles James Stewart, to a recognition of mutual human failings. The poem also records Burns’s break, by his criticism of Pope’s concept of ‘the one ruling Passion’ (see Maynard Mack’s 1950 introduction to An Essay on Man), with the eighteenth century’s desire to uniform, abstract clarity. Burns was always aware of the conflicting bedlam within himself and many of his ideas mirror the turning of the Romantic mind to the subconscious springs of creativity and desire. Scott Hogg was correct to note the similarities in More Treason, from The Morning Chronicle of 18th March, 1795, with the Burns poem on Fox:

  To simple John Bull says imperious Pitt,

  ‘Don’t you hear my Alarm Bell? – Pray listen to it:

  Thieves! thieves! Look about you: these Jacobin dogs

  Will steal your Roast Beef; – and they’ll feed you with Frogs!

  Of their Treasons and Plots should your faith have the staggers

  Burke, will show you in proof, his invisible Daggers!’

  John, apt to be frighten’d at rumours like those,

  Star’d round, to discover his pilfering Foes:

  But while he was dreaming of Peachums and Lockits

  He found the fly Premier had rifled his pockets.

  To John M’murdo

  With a Pound of Loundiefoot Snuff –

  First printed in Cunningham, 1834.

  O could I give thee India’s wealth

  As I this trifle send!

  Because thy Joy in both would be —

  To share them with thy Friend.

  But Golden Sands, Alas, ne’er grace

  The Heliconian stream:

  Then take, what Gold could never buy —

  An honest Bard’s esteem. —

  John McMurdo (1743–1803), worked as chamberlain to the Duke of Queensberry at Drumlanrig, north of Ellisland, where the castle still stands. The poet let McMurdo borrow his collection of bawdy verses.

  To Peter Stuart

  First printed in Lockhart, 1828.

  Dear Peter, dear Peter,

  We poor sons of metre

  Are often negleckit, ye ken; neglected, know

  For instance your sheet, man,

  (Tho’ glad I’m to see’t, man),

  I get it no ae day in ten. one

  Peter Stuart set up the London Star, an evening newspaper, in 1788 with business partners. Later, after a quarrel about the Regency affair, he set up his own, short-lived Morning Star, to which Burns, pseudonymously, sent two radical poems. Peter was the older brother of Daniel Stuart, also a newspaper proprietor. It is assumed the poetic note from Burns was cut away from a letter Burns sent to Stuart. Seven letters from Burns to Stuart exist, although it has been commented that ‘much of the correspondence between Peter Stuart and Robert Burns is missing’ (L. Werkmeister’s Robert Burns and the London Newspapers, Bulletin of the New York Pu
blic Library, Vol. 65, Oct. 1961, p. 492). As Werkmeister states, Daniel claimed his younger brother offered Burns £50 per year to send a weekly poem to his newspaper. When the spurious Star collapsed, Stuart purchased The Oracle, a pro-Pitt paper.

  Sonnet to Robert Graham of Fintry

  On Being Appointed to My Excise Division

  19th August, 1789

  First printed by James Currie, 1800.

  I CALL no Goddess to inspire my strains,

  A fabled Muse may suit a Bard that feigns:

  ‘Friend of my life!’ my ardent spirit burns,

  And all the tribute of my heart returns,

  5 For boons accorded, goodness ever new,

  The Gift still dearer, as the Giver YOU. —

  Thou Orb of Day! Thou Other Paler Light!

  And all ye many-sparkling Stars of Night!

  If aught that Giver from my mind efface;

  10 If I that Giver’s bounty e’er disgrace;

  Then roll, to me, along your wand’ring spheres

  Only to number out a VILLAIN’S YEARS!

  I lay my hand upon my swelling breast,

  And grateful would — but cannot speak the rest. —

  This histrionic sonnet is the poet’s reply of thanks to Graham of Fintry at being given an Excise post which relieved him of farming the stony land of Ellisland, that ‘ruinous bargain’.

  Election Ballad for Westerha’

 

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