cordially lent assistance to the undertaking, but disclaimed all idea or acceptance of pecuniary remuneration. On the 14th of November he transmitted to Thomson the song of Highland Mary, and next month one of the most arch and humorous of all his ditties, Duncan Gray cam here to woo.

1793-(THIRTY-FOUR).

The poet continues his invaluable and disinterested labours for Mr. Thomson's publication. In July he makes an excursion into Galloway with his friend Mr. Syme, stamp distributor, and according to that gentleman (though Burns's own statement on the subject is different) he composed his national song, Scots wha hae, in the midst of a thunder-storm on the wilds of Kenmure. The song was sent to Thomson in September, along with one no less popular, Auld Lang Syne. At Whitsuntide the poet removed from the "Wee Vennel" to a better house (rent 87. per annum) in the Mill-hole Brae (now Burns Street), and in this house he lived till his death. His widow continued to occupy it till her death, March 26, 1834.

1794-(THIRTY-FIVE).

At a dinner-party at Woodley Park on one occasion the poet, like most of the guests, having exceeded in wine, was guilty of some act of rudeness to the accomplished hostess, which she and her friends resented very warmly. A rupture took place, and for nearly a twelvemonth there was no intercourse between the parties. During this interval Burns wrote several lampoons on Mrs. Riddel, wholly unworthy of him as a man or as a poet. April 4, Captain Riddel of Glenriddel died unreconciled to Burns, yet the latter honoured his memory with a sonnet. August 12, another son born to the poet, and named James Glencairn. During this autumn and winter Burns wrote some of his finest songs, inspired by the charms of Jane Lorimer, the "Chloris" of many a lyric. In November he composed his lively song, Contented wi little and cantie wi mair, which he intended as a picture of his own mind, but it is only, as Mr. Chambers says, the picture of one aspect of his mind. Mr. Perry of the Morning Chronicle wishes to engage Burns as a contributor to his paper, but the "truly generous offer" is declined, lest connexion with the Whig journal should injure his prospects in the Excise. For a short time he acted as supervisor, and thought that his political sins were forgiven.

1795-(THIRTY-SIX).

In January the poet composed his manly and independent song For a' that and a' that. His intercourse with Maria Riddel is renewed, and she sends him occasionally a book, or a copy of verses, or a ticket for the theatre. He never

relaxes his genial labours for the musical works of Johnson and Thomson, and he writes a series of election ballads in favour of the Whig candidate, Mr. Heron. He joins the Dumfries-shire corps of Volunteers, enrolled in the month of March, and writes his loyal and patriotic song, Does haughty Gaul invasion threat? also his fine national strain, Their groves of sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, and one of the best of his ballads, Last May a braw wooer. The poet's health, however, gives way, and premature age has set in.

1796-(THIRTY-SEVEN).

The decline of the poet is accelerated by an accidental circumstance. One night in January he sat late in the Globe Tavern. There was deep snow on the ground, and in going home he sank down overpowered, by drowsiness and the liquor he had taken, and slept for some hours in the open air. From the cold caught on this occasion he never wholly recovered. He still, however, continued his song-writing, and one of the most beautiful and most touching of his lyrics was also one of his latest. This was the song beginning Here's a health to ane I loe dear, written on Jessy Lewars, a maiden of eighteen, sister to a brother exciseman, who proved a "ministering angel" to the poet in his last illness. In May, another election called forth another ballad, Wha will buy my troggin? And about the middle of June we find the poet writing despondingly to his old friend Johnson, and requesting a copy of the Scots Musical Museum to present to a young lady. This was no doubt the copy presented to Jessy Lewars, June 26th, inscribed with the verses, Thine be the volumes, Jessy fair. As a last effort for health, Burns went on the 4th of July to Brow, a sea-bathing hamlet on the Solway. There he was visited by Maria Riddel, who thought "the stamp of death was imprinted on his features." He was convinced himself that his illness would prove fatal, and some time before this he had said to his wife, "Don't be afraid: I'll be more respected a hundred years after I am dead, than I am at present." Mrs. Riddel saw the poet again on the 5th of July, when they parted to meet no more. On the 7th he wrote to his friend Alexander Cunningham to move the Commissioners of Excise to continue his full salary of 50/. instead of reducing it, as was the rule in the case of excisemen off duty, to 35. Mr. Findlater, his superior officer, says he had no doubt this would have been done had the poet lived. On the 10th Burns wrote to his brother as to his hopeless condition, his debts, and his despair; and on the same day he addressed a request to his father-in-law, stern old James Armour, that he would write to Mrs. Armour, then in Fife, to come to the assistance of her daughter, the poet's wife, during the time of her confinement. His thoughts turned also to his friend Mrs. Dunlop, who had unaccountably been silent for some time. He recalled her interesting correspondence: "With what pleasure did I use to break up the seal! The remembrance adds yet one pulse more to my poor palpitating heart. Farewell!" Close on this dark hour of anguish came a

lawyer's letter urging payment--and no doubt hinting at the serious consequences of non-payment—of a haberdasher's account. This legal missive served to conjure up before the distracted poet the image of a jail with all its horrors, and on the 12th he wrote two letters-one to his cousin in Montrose begging an advance of 10/., and one to Mr. George Thomson imploring 57. "Forgive, forgive me!" He left the sea-side on the 18th, weak and feverish, but was able the same day, on arriving at his house in Dumfries, to address a second note to James Armour, reiterating the wish expressed six days before, but without eliciting any reply"Do, for Heaven's sake, send Mrs. Armour here immediately." From this period he was closely confined to bed (according to the statement of his widow), and was scarcely “himself” for half an hour together. He was aware of this infirmity, and told his wife that she was to touch him and remind him when he was going wrong. One day he got out of his bed, and his wife found him sitting in a corner of the room with the bed-clothes about him; she got assistance, and he suffered himself to be gently led back to bed. The day before he died he called very quickly and with a hale voice, "Gilbert! Gilbert!" On the morning of the 21st, at daybreak, death was obviously near at hand, and the children were sent for. They had been removed to the house of Jessy Lewars and her brother, in order that the poet's dwelling might be kept quiet, and they were now summoned back that they might have a last look of their illustrious father in life. He was insensible, his mind lost in delirium, and, according to his eldest son, his last words were, "That d-d rascal, Matthew Penn !"-an execration against the legal agent who had written the dunning letter. And so ended this sad and stormy lifedrama, and the poet passed, as Mr. Carlyle has said, "not softly but speedily into that still country where the hail-storms and fire-showers do not reach, and the heaviest-laden wayfarer at length lays down his load." On the evening of Sunday, the 24th of July, the poet's remains were removed from his house to the Town Hall, and next day were interred with military honours.

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