I forget that while I am thus holding forth with the
heedless
warmth
of an enthusiast, I am perhaps tiring you with nonsense.
of an enthusiast, I am perhaps tiring you with nonsense.
Robert Burns
"Great mass of waters, theme for nobler song,"
is perhaps no emendation. His enumeration of a comparison with other
lakes is at once harmonious and poetic. Every reader's ideas must
sweep the
"Winding margin of an hundred miles. "
The perspective that follows mountains blue--the imprisoned billows
beating in vain--the wooded isles--the digression on the
yew-tree--"Ben-lomond's lofty, cloud-envelop'd head," &c. are
beautiful. A thunder-storm is a subject which has been often tried,
yet our poet in his grand picture has interjected a circumstance, so
far as I know, entirely original:--
-----------------------------"the gloom
Deep seam'd with frequent streaks of moving fire. "
In his preface to the Storm, "the glens how dark between," is noble
highland landscape! The "rain ploughing the red mould," too, is
beautifully fancied. "Ben-lomond's lofty, pathless top," is a good
expression; and the surrounding view from it is truly great: the
-----------------"silver mist,
Beneath the beaming sun,"
is well described; and here he has contrived to enliven his poem with
a little of that passion which bids fair, I think, to usurp the modern
muses altogether. I know not how far this episode is a beauty upon the
whole, but the swain's wish to carry "some faint idea of the vision
bright," to entertain her "partial listening ear," is a pretty
thought. But in my opinion the most beautiful passages in the whole
poem are the fowls crowding, in wintry frosts, to Lochlomond's
"hospitable flood;" their wheeling round, their lighting, mixing,
diving, &c. ; and the glorious description of the sportsman. This last
is equal to anything in the "Seasons. " The idea of "the floating tribe
distant seen, far glistering to the moon," provoking his eye as he is
obliged to leave them, is a noble ray of poetic genius. "The howling
winds," the "hideous roar" of the white cascades, are all in the same
style.
I forget that while I am thus holding forth with the heedless warmth
of an enthusiast, I am perhaps tiring you with nonsense. I must,
however, mention that the last verse of the sixteenth page is one of
the most elegant compliments I have ever seen. I must likewise notice
that beautiful paragraph beginning, "The gleaming lake," &c. I dare
not go into the particular beauties of the last two paragraphs, but
they are admirably fine, and truly Ossianic.
I must beg your pardon for this lengthened scrawl. I had no idea of it
when I began--I should like to know who the author is; but, whoever he
be, please present him with my grateful thanks for the entertainment
he has afforded me.
A friend of mine desired me to commission for him two books, "Letters
on the Religion essential to Man," a book you sent me before; and "The
World unmasked, or the Philosopher the greatest Cheat. " Send me them
by the first opportunity. The Bible you sent me is truly elegant; I
only wish it had been in two volumes.
R. B.
* * * * *
CXXXVIII.
TO THE EDITOR OF "THE STAR. "
[The clergyman who preached the sermon which this letter condemns, was
a man equally worthy and stern--a divine of Scotland's elder day: he
received "a harmonious call" to a smaller stipend than that of
Dunscore--and accepted it. ]
_November 8th, 1788. _
SIR,
Notwithstanding the opprobrious epithets with which some of our
philosophers and gloomy sectarians have branded our nature--the
principle of universal selfishness, the proneness to all evil, they
have given us; still the detestation in which inhumanity to the
distressed, or insolence to the fallen, are held by all mankind, shows
that they are not natives of the human heart.