Chapter 18

Young, beautiful, and doubly attractive from the warmth of her heart, and the fascination of her manners, Mrs Richardson was not only loved and appreciated by her husband, and his family, but greatly admired in a refined circle of Anglo-Indian society; and the few years of her married life were marked by almost uninterrupted felicity. But death struck down the husband and father in the very prime of manhood; and the widow returned with her five children (all of whom survived her), to seek from the scenes and friends of her early days such consolation as they might minister to a grief which only those who have experienced it can measure. She never brought her own peculiar sorrows before the public; but there is a tone of gentle mournfulness pervading many of her poems, that may be traced to this cause; and there are touching allusions to "one of rare endowments," that no one who remembered her husband's character could fail to recognise. Her intense love of nature happily remained unchanged; and the green hills, the flowing river, and the tangled wildwood, could still soothe a soul that, but for its susceptibility to these beneficent charms, might have said in its sadness of everything earthly, "miserable comforters are ye all." Continuing to reside at Forge while her children were young, she devoted herself to the direction of their education, the cultivation of her own pure tastes, and the peaceful enjoyments of a country life; and when she afterwards removed to London, and reappeared in brilliant and distinguished society, she often reverted, with regret, to the bright skies and cottage homes of Canonbie. In 1821, Mrs Richardson again returned to Scotland, and took up her abode at Dumfries, partly from the desire of being near her connexions, and partly for the sake of the beautiful scenery surrounding that pretty county town. In 1828 she published, by subscription, her first volume of miscellaneous poems, which was well received by the public, favourably noticed by the leading journals, and received a circulation even beyond the range of 1700 subscribers. A second edition, in a larger form, soon followed; and, in 1834, after finally settling in her native parish, she published a second volume, dedicated to the Duchess of Buccleuch, and which was also remarkably successful. From this time she employed her talents in the composition of prose; she published "Adonia," a novel, in three volumes; and various tales, essays, and fugitive pieces, forming contributions to popular serials. Her later poems remain in manuscript. She maintained an extensive correspondence with her literary friends, and spent much of her time in reading and study, and in the practice of sincere and unostentatious piety. Her faculties were vigorous and unimpared, until the seizure of her last illness, which quickly terminated in death, on the 9th October 1853, when she had nearly completed her seventy-sixth year. She died at Forge, and was laid to rest in the church-yard of her own beloved Canonbie.

[112] The memoir of Mrs G. G. Richardson has been kindly supplied by her accomplished relative, Mrs Macarthur, Hillhead, near Glasgow.

THE FAIRY DANCE.

The fairies are dancing--how nimbly they bound! They flit o'er the grass tops, they touch not the ground; Their kirtles of green are with diamonds bedight, All glittering and sparkling beneath the moonlight.

Hark, hark to their music! how silvery and clear-- 'Tis surely the flower-bells that ringing I hear,-- The lazy-wing'd moth, with the grasshopper wakes, And the field-mouse peeps out, and their revels partakes.

How featly they trip it! how happy are they Who pass all their moments in frolic and play, Who rove where they list, without sorrows or cares, And laugh at the fetters mortality wears!

But where have they vanish'd?--a cloud 's o'er the moon, I 'll hie to the spot,--they 'll be seen again soon-- I hasten--'tis lighter,--and what do I view?-- The fairies were grasses, the diamonds were dew.

And thus do the sparkling illusions of youth Deceive and allure, and we take them for truth; Too happy are they who the juggle unshroud, Ere the hint to inspect them be brought by a cloud.

SUMMER MORNING.

How pleasant, how pleasant to wander away, O'er the fresh dewy fields at the dawning of day,-- To have all this silence and lightness my own, And revel with Nature, alone,--all alone!

What a flush of young beauty lies scatter'd around, In this calm, holy sunshine, and stillness profound! The myriads are sleeping, who waken to care, And earth looks like Eden, ere Adam was there.

The herbage, the blossoms, the branches, the skies, That shower on the river their beautiful dyes, The far misty mountains, the wide waving fields, What healthful enjoyment surveying them yields!

Yes, this is the hour Nature's lovers partake, The manna that melts when Life's vapours awake; Another, and thoughts will be busy, oh how Unlike the pure vision they 're ranging in now!

Lo! the hare scudding forth, lo! the trout in the stream Gently splashing, are stirring the folds of my dream, The cattle are rising, and hark, the first bird,-- And now in full chorus the woodlands are heard.

Oh, who on the summer-clad landscape can gaze, In the orison hour, nor break forth into praise,-- Who, through this fair garden contemplative rove, Nor feel that the Author and Ruler is love?

I ask no hewn temple, sufficient is here; I ask not art's anthems, the woodland is near; The breeze is all risen, each leaf at his call Has a tear drop of gratitude ready to fall!

THERE 'S MUSIC IN THE FLOWING TIDE.

There 's music in the flowing tide, there 's music in the air, There 's music in the swallow's wing, that skims so lightly there, There 's music in each waving tress of grove, and bower, and tree, To eye and ear 'tis music all where Nature revels free.

There 's discord in the gilded halls where lordly rivals meet, There 's discord where the harpers ring to beauty's glancing feet, There 's discord 'neath the jewell'd robe, the wreath, the plume, the crest, Wherever Fashion waves her wand, there discord rules the breast.

There 's music 'neath the cottage eaves, when, at the close of day, Kind-hearted mirth and social ease the toiling hour repay; Though coarse the fare, though rude the jest, that cheer that lowly board, There loving hearts and honest lips sweet harmony afford!

Oh! who the music of the groves, the music of the heart, Would barter for the city's din, the frigid tones of art? The virtues flourish fresh and fair, where rural waters glide. They shrink and wither, droop and die, where rolls that turbid tide.

AH! FADED IS THAT LOVELY BLOOM.

_Written to an Italian Air._

Ah! faded is that lovely bloom, And closed in death that speaking eye, And buried in a green grass tomb, What once breathed life and harmony! Surely the sky is all too dark, And chilly blows the summer air,-- And, where 's thy song now, sprightly lark, That used to wake my slumb'ring fair?

Ah! never shalt thou wake her more! And thou, bright sun, shalt ne'er again, On inland mead, or sea-girt shore, Salute the darling of the plain. Maiden! they bade me o'er thy fate Numbers and strains mellifluous swell, They knew the love I bore thee great,-- They knew not what I ne'er can tell.

The unstrung heart to others leaves The music of a feebler woe, Her numbers are the sighs she heaves, Her off'ring tears that ever flow. Where could I gather fancies now? They 're with'ring on thy lowly tomb,-- My summer was thy cheek and brow, And perish'd is that lovely bloom!

THOMAS BROWN, M.D.

Illustrious as a metaphysician, Dr Thomas Brown is entitled to a place in the poetical literature of his country. He was the youngest son of Samuel Brown, minister of Kirkmabreck, in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, and was born in the manse of that parish, on the 9th January 1778. His father dying when he was only a year old, his childhood was superintended solely by his mother, who established her abode in Edinburgh. Evincing an uncommon aptitude for knowledge, he could read and understand the Scriptures ere he had completed his fifth year. At the age of seven he was committed to the charge of a maternal uncle in London, who placed him at the schools of Camberwell and Chiswick, and afterwards at two other classical seminaries, in all of which he exhibited remarkable precocity in learning. On the death of his relative he returned to Edinburgh, and in his fourteenth year entered the University of that city. During a visit to Liverpool, in the summer of 1793, he was introduced to Dr Currie, who, presenting him with a copy of Dugald Stewart's "Elements of Philosophy," was the means of directing his attention to metaphysical inquiries. The following session he became a student in Professor Stewart's class; and differing from a theory advanced in one of the lectures, he modestly read his sentiments on the subject to his venerable preceptor. The philosopher and pupil were henceforth intimate friends.

In his nineteenth year, Brown became a member of the "Academy of Physics," a philosophical association established by the scientific youths of the University, and afterwards known to the world as having given origin to the _Edinburgh Review_. As a member of this society he formed the intimacy of Brougham, Jeffrey, Leyden, Logan, Sydney Smith, and other literary aspirants. In 1778 he published "Observations on the Zoonomia of Dr Darwin,"--a pamphlet replete with deep philosophical sentiment, and which so attracted the notice of his friends that they used every effort, though unsuccessfully, to secure him the chair of rhetoric in the University during the vacancy which soon afterwards occurred. His professional views were originally directed to the bar, but disgusted with the law after a twelve-month's trial, he entered on a medical course, to qualify himself as physician, and in 1803 received his diploma. His new profession was scarcely more congenial than that which he had abandoned, nor did the prospects of success, on being assumed as a partner by Dr Gregory, reconcile him to his duties. His favourite pursuits were philosophy and poetry; he published in 1804 two volumes of miscellaneous poems which he had chiefly written at college, and he was among the original contributors to the _Edinburgh Review_, the opening article in the second number, on "Kant's Philosophy," proceeding from his pen. An essay on Hume's "Theory of Causation," which he produced during the struggle attendant on Mr Leslie's appointment to the mathematical chair, established his hitherto growing reputation; and the public in the capital afterwards learned, with more than satisfaction, that he had consented to act as substitute for Professor Dugald Stewart, when increasing infirmities had compelled that distinguished individual to retire from the active business of his chair. In this new sphere he fully realised the expectations of his admirers; he read his own lectures, which, though hastily composed, often during the evenings prior to their delivery, were listened to with an overpowering interest, not only by the regular students, but by many professional persons in the city. Such distinction had its corresponding reward; after assisting in the moral philosophy class for two years, he was in 1810 appointed to the joint professorship.

Successful as a philosopher, Dr Brown was desirous of establishing a reputation as a poet. In 1814 he published anonymously the "Paradise of Coquettes," a poem which was favourably received. "The Wanderer of Norway," a poem, appeared in 1816, and "Agnes" and "Emily," two other distinct volumes of poems, in the two following years. He died at Brompton, near London, on the 2d April 1820, and his remains were conveyed for interment to the churchyard of his native parish. Amidst a flow of ornate and graceful language, the poetry of Dr Brown is disfigured by a morbid sensibility and a philosophy which dims rather than enlightens. He possessed, however, many of the mental concomitants of a great poet; he loved rural retirement and romantic scenery; well appreciated the beautiful both in nature and in art; was conversant with the workings of the human heart and the history of nations; was influenced by generous emotions, and luxuriated in a bold and lofty imagination.[113]

[113] Margaret Brown, one of the three sisters of Dr Brown, published "Lays of Affection." Edinburgh, 1819, 12mo. She was a woman of gentle and unobtrusive manners and of pious disposition. Her poems constitute a respectable memorial of her virtues.

CONSOLATION OF ALTERED FORTUNES.

Yes! the shades we must leave which my childhood has haunted, Each charm by endearing remembrance improved; These walks of our love, the sweet bower thou hast planted,-- We must leave them to eyes that will view them unmoved.

Oh, weep not, my Fanny! though changed be our dwelling, We bear with us all, in the home of our mind; In virtues will glow that heart, fondly swelling, Affection's best treasure we leave not behind.

I shall labour, but still by thy image attended-- Can toil be severe which a smile can repay? How glad shall we meet! every care will be ended; And our evening of bliss will be more than a day.

Content's cheerful beam will our cottage enlighten; New charms the new cares of thy love will inspire; Thy smiles, 'mid the smiles of our offspring, will lighten; I shall see it--and oh, can I feel a desire?

THE FAITHLESS MOURNER.

When thy smile was still clouded in gloom, When the tear was still dim in thine eye, I thought of the virtues, scarce cold in the tomb, And I spoke not of love to thy sigh!

I spoke not of love; yet the breast, Which mark'd thy long anguish,--deplore The sire, whom in sickness, in age, thou hadst bless'd, Though silent, was loving thee more!

How soon wert thou pledged to my arms, Thou hadst vow'd, but I urged not the day; And thine eye grateful turn'd, oh, so sweet were its charms, That it more than atoned the delay.

I fear'd not, too slow of belief-- I fear'd not, too proud of thy heart, That another would steal on the hour of thy grief, That thy grief would be soft to his art.

Thou heardst--and how easy allured, Every vow of the past to forsware; The love, which for thee would all pangs have endured, Thou couldst smile, as thou gav'st to despair.

Ah, think not my passion has flown! Why say that my vows now are free? Why say--yes! I feel that my heart is my own; I feel it is breaking for thee.

THE LUTE.

Ah! do not bid me wake the lute, It once was dear to Henry's ear. Now be its voice for ever mute, The voice which Henry ne'er can hear.

Though many a month has pass'd since Spring, His grave's wan turf has bloom'd anew, One whisper of those chords would bring, In all its grief, our last adieu.

The songs he loved--'twere sure profane To careless Pleasure's laughing brow To breathe; and oh! what other strain To Henry's lute could love allow?

Though not a sound thy soul hath caught, To mine it looks, thus softly dead, A sweeter tenderness of thought Than all its living strings have shed.

Then ask me not--the charm was broke; With each loved vision must I part; If gay to every ear it spoke, 'Twould speak no longer to my heart.

Yet once too blest!--the moonlit grot, Where last I gave its tones to swell; Ah! the _last_ tones--thou heardst them not-- From other hands than mine they fell.

Still, silent slumbering, let it keep That sacred touch! And oh! as dim To life, would, would that I could sleep, Could sleep, and only dream of _him_!

WILLIAM CHALMERS.

William Chalmers was born at Paisley in 1779. He carried on the business of a tobacconist and grocer in his native town, and for a period enjoyed considerable prosperity. Unfortunate reverses caused him afterwards to abandon merchandise, and engage in a variety of occupations. At different times he sought employment as a dentist, a drysalter, and a book distributor; he sold small stationery as a travelling merchant, and ultimately became keeper of the refreshment booth at the Paisley railway station. He died at Paisley on the 3d of November 1843. Chalmers wrote respectable verses on a number of subjects, but his muse was especially of a humorous tendency. Possessed of a certain versatility of talent, he published, in 1839, a curious production with the quaint title, "Observations on the Weather in Scotland, shewing what kinds of weather the various winds produce, and what winds are most likely to prevail in each month of the year." His compositions in verse were chiefly contributed to the local periodicals and newspapers.

SING ON.

AIR--_"The Pride of the Broomlands."_

Sing on, thou little bird, Thy wild notes sae loud, O sing, sweetly sing frae the tree; Aft beneath thy birken bow'r I have met at e'ening hour My young Jamie that 's far o'er the sea.

On yon bonnie heather knowes We pledged our mutual vows, And dear is the spot unto me; Though pleasure I hae nane, While I wander alane, And my Jamie is far o'er the sea.

But why should I mourn, The seasons will return, And verdure again clothe the lea; The flow'rets shall spring, And the saft breeze shall bring, My dear laddie again back to me.

Thou star! give thy light, Guide my lover aright, Frae rocks and frae shoals keep him free; Now gold I hae in store, He shall wander no more, No, no more shall he sail o'er the sea.

THE LOMOND BRAES.

"O, lassie, wilt thou go To the Lomond wi' me? The wild thyme 's in bloom. And the flower 's on the lea; Wilt thou go my dearest love? I will ever constant prove, I 'll range each hill and grove On the Lomond wi' thee."

"O young men are fickle, Nor trusted to be, And many a native gem Shines fair on the lea: Thou mayst see some lovely flower, Of a more attractive power, And may take her to thy bower On the Lomond wi' thee."

"The hynd shall forsake, On the mountain the doe, The stream of the fountain Shall cease for to flow; Ben-Lomond shall bend His high brow to the sea, Ere I take to my bower Any flower, love, but thee."

She 's taken her mantle, He 's taken his plaid; He coft her a ring, And he made her his bride: They 're far o'er yon hills, To spend their happy days, And range the woody glens 'Mang the Lomond braes.

JOSEPH TRAIN.

A zealous and respectable antiquary and cultivator of historical literature, Joseph Train is likewise worthy of a niche in the temple of Scottish minstrelsy. His ancestors were for several generations land-stewards on the estate of Gilmilnscroft, in the parish of Sorn, and county of Ayr, where he was born on the 6th November 1779. When he was eight years old, his parents removed to Ayr, where, after a short attendance at school, he was apprenticed to a mechanical occupation. His leisure hours were sedulously devoted to reading and mental improvement. In 1799, he was balloted for the Ayrshire Militia; in which he served for three years till the regiment was disbanded on the peace of Amiens. When he was stationed at Inverness, he had commissioned through a bookseller a copy of Currie's edition of the "Works of Burns," then sold at three half-guineas, and this circumstance becoming incidentally known to the Colonel of the regiment, Sir David Hunter Blair, he caused the copy to be elegantly bound and delivered free of expense. Much pleased with his intelligence and attainments, Sir David, on the disembodiment of the regiment, actively sought his preferment; he procured him an agency at Ayr for the important manufacturing house of Finlay and Co., Glasgow, and in 1808, secured him an appointment in the Excise. In 1810, Train was sometime placed on service as a supernumerary in Perthshire; he was in the year following settled as an excise officer at Largs, from which place in 1813 he was transferred to Newton Stewart. The latter location, from the numerous objects of interest which were presented in the surrounding district, was highly suitable for his inclinations and pursuits. Recovering many curious legends, he embodied some of them in metrical tales, which, along with a few lyrical pieces, he published in 1814, in a thin octavo volume,[114] under the title of "Strains of the Mountain Muse." While the sheets were passing through the press, some of them were accidentally seen by Sir Walter Scott, who, warmly approving of the author's tastes, procured his address, and communicated his desire to become a subscriber for the volume.

Gratified by the attention of Sir Walter, Mr Train transmitted for his consideration several curious Galloway traditions, which he had recovered. These Sir Walter politely acknowledged, and begged the favour of his endeavouring to procure for him some account of the present condition of Turnberry Castle, for his poem the "Lord of the Isles," which he was then engaged in composing. Mr Train amply fulfilled the request by visiting the ruined structure situated on the coast of Ayrshire; and he thereafter transmitted to his illustrious correspondent those particulars regarding it, and of the landing of Robert Bruce, and the Hospital founded by that monarch, at King's Case, near Prestwick, which are given by Sir Walter in the notes to the fifth canto of the poem. During a succession of years he regularly transmitted legendary tales and scraps to Sir Walter, which were turned to excellent account by the great novelist. The fruits of his communications appear in the "Chronicles of the Canongate," "Guy Mannering," "Old Mortality," "The Heart of Mid Lothian," "The Fair Maid of Perth," "Peveril of the Peak," "Quintin Durward," "The Surgeon's Daughter," and "Redgauntlet." He likewise supplied those materials on which Sir Walter founded his dramas of the "Doom of Devorgoil," and "Macduff's Cross."

When Sir Walter was engaged, a few years previous to his death, in preparing the Abbotsford or first uniform edition of his works, Mr Train communicated for his use many additional particulars regarding a number of the characters in the Waverley Novels, of which he had originally introduced the prototypes to the distinguished author. His most interesting narrative was an account of the family of Robert Paterson, the original "Old Mortality," which is so remarkable in its nature, that we owe no apology for introducing it. Mr Train received his information from Robert, a son of "Old Mortality," then in his seventy-fifth year, and residing at Dalry, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. According to the testimony of this individual, his brother John sailed for America in 1774, where he made a fortune during the American War. He afterwards settled at Baltimore, where he married, and lived in prosperous circumstances. He had a son named Robert, after "Old Mortality," his father, and a daughter named Elizabeth; Robert espoused an American lady, who, surviving him, was married to the Marquis of Wellesley, and Elizabeth became the first wife of Prince Jerome Bonaparte.[115]