PR 5205 
 R84 G6 
 Copy 1 
 
 SlUT 
 

GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN RAMSAY, 
 
 KILMARXOCK, AYRSHIRE, 
 AUTHOR OF ' ' WOODNOTES OP A WANDERER. 
 
 SECON D THOU SAND. 
 
 By Druid's cairn, by martyr's stane. 
 By ruin grey, through churchyard lane. 
 By river famed, o'er battle-plain. 
 
 The wild, the dread, 
 The fair entwined with deathless strain, 
 
 'Twas his to tread. 
 
 KILMARNOCK : 
 JAMES M'KIE, 2 KING STREET, 
 
 MDCCCLXXm. 
 

 ■ GIFT 
 BSli iSAMZS 3. D! 
 " > >*^ JULY 26, 1 <- 
 
 
SKETCH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 John Ramsay, the subject of the following brief life-sketch, 
 first drew the breath of life in "Auld Killie," in the year 1802. 
 
 Whether or not the "genius of misfortune" presided, as he 
 himself says it did, at his birth, we do not pretend to say. Surely 
 not. Misfortunes come to us much of our own makingand notfrom 
 the accident of our birth or anything connected therewith. And 
 though John has passed through not a few misfortunes, probably 
 were cause and effect traced thoroughly, in these the genius re- 
 ferred to, would be found to have had little share in them. His 
 parents were in humble circumstances, yet possessed of those 
 sterling qualities which make the Scotch peasantry take such a high 
 position among the inhabitants of Britain, and those of Ayrshire 
 so high among Scotchmen. His father especially, was a man of 
 superior mental and moral powers, and exercised, by his industry, 
 honesty, and integrity, a great influence over John's mind and 
 character. He was one of the shrewdest of business men, had 
 great forethought in all trading matters, and could discern the 
 signs of the times equally with any one. In the early part of his 
 
iv i. hi. 01 mi. \i rnoit. 
 
 married life he commenced dairyman, and subsequenl 
 
 the ryegrass seed trade, in which he was very successful, and in 
 
 which lie continued till his death, which took place in 1835 
 
 The recollection of both parents, as our Author himself says, 
 is yet as clear, fresh, and potent as when he was a youth. At five 
 years of age he was sent to school, but the teacher was naught, 
 and little progress was made during the two years he was under 
 the care of his first ' ' domine. " He was then removed to another 
 where he remained just long enough to read the Bible and 
 " Barrie," write a little, and cypher less. That the poetic feeling 
 in our author was early brought into play may be gathered from 
 the impressions made on his mind by reading and hearing read, 
 some of the grand old prophets in the grand old Book, and the 
 beautiful imagery and language of that exquisite pastoral work, the 
 Book of Job. The fact also of living near Kilmarnock House, 
 then differently situated from what it is now, helped to engender 
 this poetic feeling. The influence of his mother with her store 
 of ancient "Ballads " contributed its mite to the same end. 
 
 Possibly that which exercised the greatest power over his 
 youthful intellect was the regular sojourn he made at all holiday 
 seasons, and during school vacations, at the farm of Guililand, 
 near Dundonald, occupied by his maternal grandfather. The 
 natural beauty of the locality, heightened by the presence of that 
 "Ancient pile ! fast hastening to decay," 
 
 once the residence, and a favourite one, of Royalty itself, made a 
 deep and lasting impression on his youthful and plastic mind. 
 It never was, and never will be effaced. There is a charm about 
 the old Castle on the hill ; the lovely wood in the back ground, 
 and the great ocean in the near distance ; that makes itself fell 
 
LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. V 
 
 on any mind, and would more so on one in which the elements of 
 poesy were lying dormant. Then, not far off was the ancient 
 Roman Camp, from which a magnificent view of the entire valley 
 of the Irvine could, any clear day, be had, and which of itself 
 was enough to kindle into life and activity the nascent germs of 
 the genius of poetry. There is little wonder that these scenes 
 and their remembrance were to him : — 
 
 " A soothing vesjjer song of peace and rest, 
 So sweet, so holy, that it seemed to bear 
 A native burden to my grandsire's prayer." 
 
 Besides, his residence there had other uses than merely to lay up 
 a store of health for future use and afford a dreamy sort of delight 
 to the young mind. His grandfather had a vast stock of anecdote 
 of " the days of old " — days when law was less powerful than now, 
 and when, along nearly the whole of the Ayrshire coast, 
 "Smuggling " was followed as a matter of course. These stories 
 were the fruit of personal experience in the trade, as well as of 
 the recollection of tales told him by his ancestors. By the 
 "ingle neuk" on winter nights his grandfather used to repeat 
 these old stories, and one ear at least drank them in greedily — 
 that of young John. These were varied by tales of " Wallace 
 Wight," "the Covenanters," "the year '45," or as it was termed, 
 the Hielandman's year, of "Burns, the Bard ploughman," and of 
 "fairies and warlocks," all told in "guid braid lalland," and fixed 
 themselves indelibly on his memory. Hence they became not only 
 mental food on which to feed for the time being, but a store-house 
 whence to draw thoughts and incidents to weave into melodious 
 verse. These were to Ramsay the happy days of life ; pure and 
 delicious as the days of youth brought up under such influences 
 and charms must be. Their fragrance, he himself has often said 
 
\ i LIFE OF Mil. A i I I Ml;. 
 
 to us, cornea yet floating down the stream of past time filling bis 
 soul with peaceful quietness and quiet peace. We believe that 
 many of bis finest pieces and most expressive lines drew their 
 
 inspiration from these early scenes and days. To us they bear 
 internal evidence of having clone so. 
 
 But these palmy clays could not "last for aye." At the age of 
 ten lie left school, having but scant store of book lore, and became 
 draw-boy to his father, who was then a carpet weaver. In those 
 days Thomas Morton had not invented the "barrel machine," and 
 the jacquard was not thought to be applicable to carpet weaving. 
 So the pattern was thrown up by pulling whorles which lifted cer- 
 tain threads. This was John's work for five years, when he was 
 apprenticed to the same trade as his father. He thus, like many 
 others, was early launched into the great "battle of life," a battle 
 he has uncompromisingly fought, with more or less success, ever 
 since. In those days he had little knowledge of and accpaintance 
 with books, as his father's library was of the smallest, and of a 
 peculiarly religious kind, as in fact were the libraries of all such 
 of his class. After he began his trade he formed friendships with 
 several young men of his own age, and with kindred likings. 
 They and he began a course of self education, learned grammar, 
 a smattering of Latin, and how to express their thoughts in 
 writing. This was of the greatest use to Ramsay, and some of 
 the friendships then made continue to the present day ; others 
 have been broken off by time, distance, and death. 
 
 When plying the shuttle as other poets before him had clone, 
 Ramsay's poetic powers began to develop themselves. His first 
 published attempt at versification was in an Ayr periodical 
 edited by Mr. Archibald Crawford, author of "Tales of my 
 
LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. Vll 
 
 Grandmother." This partook of the Epigrammatic character 
 and was on a sailor at a funeral. His next was of a more pre- 
 tentious nature, and may yet be read in his works. It bears the 
 title, "The Loudoun Campaign." This last piece established 
 his fame locally, and several hundred copies of it were sold in 
 "Auld Killie." Then followed a political effusion, caused by 
 witnessing the drinking of the King's health on the balcony at 
 the front of the Council-House, (and which has long ago been 
 removed.) Next followed " Lines to Eliza," which appeared in 
 the Edinburgh Literary Gazette, edited by Henry Glassford Bell, 
 Esq., who highly recommended the piece, and pronounced the 
 writer of it a poet. About the same time he wrote an impromptu 
 couplet of verses on a Subscription Ball of his fellow-workmen. 
 In consequence of the pawky humour running through the lines, 
 they may be given here entire — This little piece also appeared in 
 the Literary Gazette, and was praised by the editor. For an 
 introduction to this Journal, we believe that the Author was 
 indebted to Mr. Robert Chambers. The following are the verses 
 referred to : — 
 
 " Old Plato once met Father Jove, 
 And asked the self-existent, 
 ' What was on earth, in heaven above, 
 Of all most inconsistent. ' 
 
 "Jove heard the question, gave a nod, 
 To Heaven's high tower advancing, 
 Unveiled this world — ' Now,' says the God, 
 ' D'ye see yon weavers dancing.' " 
 
 So, gradually and more widely known did Ramsay become as a 
 writer of clever, satirical and humourous poetical Sketches. 
 But he did not appear before the world as a full-fledged author 
 and poet till years afterwards. 
 
V 111 I. II I. OE THE Al I BOB 
 
 In Isl's Ramsay married, a circumstance which bad the strangest 
 and most weird-like influence on bis life and character afterwards, 
 and which even yet has an influence on him. The marriage 
 did not prove a happy one. Incompatibility of thought, temper, 
 tastes, and feelings, soon brought about an estrangement between 
 the pair, though it took years to come to an open rupture. 
 
 Into the melancholy history of this portion of our Author's 
 life we have no desire to enter, the more so that both husband 
 and wife are stdl alive. It is rather a remarkable coincidence 
 in connection with it, that his father was strongly opposed to the 
 match, and literally predicted the actual outcome of the incon- 
 gruous union. One thing is certain that the marriage and its 
 results gave a twist to the character and life of Ramsay which 
 has never since been thoroughly rectified. A morbid sensitiveness 
 as to persons and things was one of these results and which we 
 fancy may be seen scintillating through more than one of his 
 pieces like the lurid lightning through the murky clouds of a 
 thunder sky. Another and sadder result was, that it literally 
 made him a "wanderer," having neither home nor household 
 hearth, whose influences are so beneficial even to the best of men. 
 It is most creditable to our Author that he has come through the 
 fiery ordeal referred to with honour to himself and all whom he 
 knew. His conduct has been marked by prudent carefulness and 
 careful prudence. Seeking to owe no man anything but respect 
 and love, he has quietly and unostentatiously journeyed onward 
 through the rugged ups and downs of a wandering life. 
 
 During his early married life, Ramsay, to better his position 
 and condition, began business as a grocer, provision merchant, 
 ham curer, and spirit dealer. Hut from some cause or other he 
 
LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. IX 
 
 was unsuccessful in his venture, even though backed by great 
 industry and perseverance. The genius of misfortune mayhap 
 had something to do with this. 
 
 In 1854 he was appointed Officer in Edinburgh to the Scottish 
 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, which situation 
 he held upwards of four years, much to the satisfaction both of 
 the Directors and others who took an interest in the Society. 
 He resigned, however, in 1858, having been appointed Superin- 
 tendent of Slaughter Houses by a large majority of the Town 
 Council — indeed there were but two dissenting voices. 
 
 Did time and space allow we might say a word or two on this 
 portion of our Author's life ; one fruitful in effort to accomplish 
 a good work, and equally fruitful in disastrous results to himself. 
 He managed the abbatoir in a very superior way, and improved 
 it in a moral and pecuniary aspect. We believe that with the 
 assistance of the Rev. M. Wilson of the Barclay Church, and of 
 Mr. Robert Cunningham, a converted flesher, he established a 
 prayer meeting in the abbatoir, a thing unknown of before. But 
 ultimately there was a clique formed against him in the Town 
 Council, entirely owing to personal ill-feeling. A few influential 
 members of the Trade also aided and abetted, and after keeping 
 him in constant hot water for about eighteen months, the upshot 
 was that he was discharged through their exertions in 1864, the 
 Committee of the Association of Fleshers protested against this 
 step — but no attention was paid to their remonstrance. 
 
 Since, he has had no definite employment, but that of a 
 "wanderer" with his " woodnotes wild," observing and being 
 observed, cultivating the muses at leisure hours and as the whim 
 or fit comes on him, gathering experience of life of the most 
 
X LIFE I 'I I ni. \1 THOR. 
 
 varii-d kind, and adding an occasional laurel to the wreath with 
 
 which he has managed amid great discouragement to adorn Lis 
 declining 
 
 He has still, as he always had, a hale, fresh look, though past 
 the ordinary limit of human life. Indeed, but for his excellent 
 constitution he would not have worn so well as he has done. 
 In our early acquaintance wdth hhn he was deemed a powerful 
 man, and walked long distances in the pursuit of his business. 
 Latterly, however, his strong powers have given way and for years 
 he has been labouring under a most painful ailment, and for the 
 amelioration of which medical science is of little avail. We 
 trust that some bright blink of prosperity shall cheer his declining 
 years, and make his closing days more agreeable in every way. 
 Certainly in some respects his prospects are not brilliant, yet as 
 the murkiest hour is just before the dawn, so possibly his dreariest 
 outlook may be the harbinger of better days. 
 
 In 1S36 he published, by subscription, the first Edition of his 
 poems, of a thousand copies. This was favourably received and 
 noticed by the press. In 1839 he published a second edition. 
 Other editions, enlarged, improved, pruned, and polished have 
 since been published. In all, we believe he has sold by his own 
 exertions nine thousand of his "Woodnotes"and a thousand ol his 
 " Gleanings." In doing this he has travelled through the major 
 part of Scotland and England, and a portion of Ireland, the Isle 
 of Man and Isle of Wight. His life has been anything but one of 
 ease. He has not eaten the bread of idleness, and now having 
 passed the allotted three score 3 r ears and ten he is getting another 
 edition thrown off for future toil and travel. So much for the 
 man ; let us look a little at the poet. 
 
CRITIQUE. XI 
 
 Here we must necessarily be brief, leaving a more detailed 
 criticism to others possibly better qualified for it than the writer 
 of this sketch. To us, it seems that Ramsay, as other poets, has 
 not only an ego, but an alter ego, and perchance a third ego. 
 By the first he writes such pieces as "Lines to Eliza," and by 
 the second, such as ' ' The Eglinton Park Meeting, " the third, 
 and which we regard more as an accident and the result of 
 external circumstances, he figures as a writer of sarcastic verses, 
 and cross-grained epigrams or impromptus. Luckily the last 
 class of compositions is not large, and were our advice taken, 
 they would be purged from the present, and each succeeding 
 edition. One is inclined to say they are evidences of a soured 
 temper. Certainly they do not, by any means, remind us of the 
 John Ramsay of thirty or forty years ago. Our poet shines best 
 as a descriptive writer, and this, whether of things passing be- 
 neath his eye, or of things flitting across the mental vision of 
 bygone days. Possibly our local knowledge may bias us some- 
 what, but few of his pieces are, to our thinking, better conceived 
 or more happdy executed than his "Eglinton Park Meeting," 
 or " Fastern's-e'en Sports." There is in both a graphic conception 
 of the subject in hand, and a skilful delineation of persons and of 
 things. Withal, also, there runs through them, and others of a 
 kindred nature, a vein of rich humour, the richer because of its 
 quiet "pawkyness." On a similar level would we place his 
 "Glimpse of the Old Smuggling Days of the West." On the 
 other side of his character as a poet may be placed the ' ' Address 
 to Dundonald Castle. " There is truthas well as poetry in thelines : 
 
 ' ' And round thy ruined walls 
 The ivy creeps : thine ancient glory's fled : 
 Thine ancient tenants numbered with the dead. 
 Yea, with the stream of time a wave rolls on, 
 Whose surge shall leave thee not a standing stone." 
 
XII I R] riQUE. 
 
 As a type ui his best moods we bake his lines " On the Death of 
 my eldest son." There is in them a depth of filial and poetic 
 sentiment all his own, intensified the more because of the distance 
 between the dying and the living. There is one thing we miss 
 in some of his earlier productions, to wit, the healthy buoyancy 
 of hope, which we look for in the true poet. As age has come on 
 Ramsay, however, the freshness and joy of youth seem revived 
 in him, and one of his sweetest, richest pieces is that entitled, 
 "The land whence we'll never return." The ring of these two 
 lines is undoubtedly sterling : 
 
 " But hope sings, that Beauty's light brighter shall burn 
 In realms of the land whence we'll never return." 
 
 Possibly the shadows of that land are beginning to be cast on the 
 soul of our author, and he sees and feels things in a light some- 
 what different from, yet happier than when passing through some 
 of the darker phases of his life. Purer and brighter thoughts 
 come in from the better land and find their expression in sweeter 
 strains. If in Pamsay we find not the marks of the brightest 
 genius, and none knows that better than himself, we find many 
 rare traces of the richest poetic conceptions uttered in language 
 that would not disgrace our best and most highly esteemed poets. 
 Amid many failings and short comings, there gleam through all 
 his writings the wrestlings of a soul, a true soul, in its upward 
 flight, seeking affinity with and consolation in the higher and 
 nobler issues of life — and what more could we look for in tin- 
 greatest master of poetry. The volume to which this brief sketch 
 is prefaced, contains, not a few fresh pieces by our Author, but 
 the finest, "pickings" from his entire works. In more senses 
 than "lie, it may be called "Gleanings." 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 PAGK 
 
 Life of the Author, iii 
 
 Critique, xi 
 
 A Glimpse of the Old Smuggling Days in the West, 1 
 
 Retribution: a Tale of the Olden Time, 21 
 
 A Vision, 32 
 
 Epistle to Mr. John Ballantine, 38 
 
 The Shepherd and Tutor of Rusco ; or, the Plotter caught 
 
 in his own Snare, 42 
 
 Jamie and Mary, 51 
 
 Jeanie Swan, 60 
 
 Rinderpest Swan, 66 
 
 Victims of Alcohol, 68 
 
 The Quaker and the Sceptic Dandy, 71 
 
 On the Death of the Rev. Hugh Glover, 73 
 
 On Reading the Speech of Sir William Thomson at the 
 
 opening of the British Association in Edinburgh, 76 
 
 Written on a view of the Bay of Ayr, 79 
 
 On the Rejection of the Edinburgh Water Bill by the House 
 
 of Lords, 81 
 
[n Memoriam of James Templeton, B5 
 
 Johnny Snow, s '-' 
 
 On reading a work in which the author attempts to claim 
 
 a connection with Burns, 91 
 
 The Charge of Cromwell's Ironsides at Marston M oor, 93 
 
 Epitaph for John Ramsay, Junr., 95 
 
 Epistle to Mr. John Harrison, ! '7 
 
 In Memoriam of my Granddaughter, 100 
 
 The Smuggler, 102 
 
 The Tartan of Lome, 103 
 
 On the Death of a well-known Sceptic, 104 
 
 The land whence we'll never return, 105 
 
 To Ailsa Craig, 106 
 
 Cushie Doo, 107 
 
 On reading a Lecture on the Life and Writings of Burns.. ., 109 
 
 A day of darkness and distress, and no comforter, 112 
 
 On the Death of Mr. William Ferguson, 114 
 
 The wad of the disconsolate, 116 
 
 On hearing famdy worship in a Shepherd' sheiling,... 118 
 
 Rich! Rich! Rich! or, Hooper M 'Callous, 120 
 
 A Dream, 123 
 
 On seeing a print of the death-bed of Calvin, 1 25 
 
 Willie Finnie, 127 
 
 Epitaph for Tammas Turnip, Esq. , 129 
 
 Oh ! there is a way, 130 
 
 To my Dog Bessie, 131 
 
 On visiting the Assyrian Antiquities in the British Museum, 133 
 
 The Spirits of the Departed o'er the Sleeping Bereaved, 134 
 
 A Veteran Tory's Lament, 135 
 
 Andrew and James ; or, the consequences of Intemperance, 139 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Reminiscences of early days at Guililand, 141 
 
 An Incident in a Shipwreck, 143 
 
 On the Death of Mrs. John Miller, 144 
 
 Lines, 145 
 
 Reminiscence, 145 
 
 Kdliecrankie, 146 
 
 The Misplaced, 147 
 
 On visiting the Low Church of Kilmarnock, 151 
 
 Diogenes in a new light, 152 
 
 On seeing the block and axe with which Lord Kilmarnock, 
 
 and others, were beheaded, 153 
 
 Jamie Tait and the Doctor, 154 
 
 In Memoriam of Dr. Connell, 155 
 
 Daft Rab Wrickt, 156 
 
 Epitaph for A. S., 157 
 
 A flying shot, 158 
 
 Idem, ; 158 
 
 Doctor Muckle John, 159 
 
 A fit connection, 160 
 
 David the King and Nathan the Prophet, 160 
 
 On seeing a dilapidated Weaver's Shop in Kilmarnock, 161 
 
 On leaving my dog, "Bessie," in London, 162 
 
 On the Death of Mr. David Ridpath, 163 
 
 Calvinism, 163 
 
 On the Death of John Kelso Hunter, 164 
 
 Written in the Album of the Hermitage of Kirroughtrie, . . . . 165 
 
 Epitaph for Draper Hughie, 1 65 
 
 Epitaph for the Rev. A. P. B k, 166 
 
 On hearing that the Black-faced Ape, &c. , 166 
 
 Song— Prentice the Spy, 167 
 
 I 
 
XVI •■.MINI-. 
 
 A rand. mi shot, L68 
 
 To Mr. I>. !>., a copious contributor, &c 168 
 
 To G. T. M.D., 168 
 
 To a Mr. Cousin, 169 
 
 To Mr. G e C r, 169 
 
 Impromptu on a review in the Athenaeum, 169 
 
 Notes, 171 
 
 Extracts from the Custom House Records of Irvine, 187 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF THE OLD SMUGGLING 
 DAYS IN THE WEST. 
 
 We bring again upon the stage 
 The actors of another age. 
 
 The gull had left the swelling sea, 
 The raven sought his roosting-tree, 
 November's night came darkly dowu, 
 On moorland bleak and mountain brown ; 
 November's blast was raving loud, 
 The naked forest groaned and bowed ; 
 E'en the grey oak's gigantic form 
 A homage yielded to the storm, 
 And flung upon the traveller's way 
 The rifted bough and sapless spray ; 
 The russet leaves were flickering by — 
 A generation doomed to die — 
 Another soon to fill their place : 
 So with the fragile human race ; 
 Suggesting to the pensive mind 
 A problem ne'er to be defined. 
 
GLEANINGS 01 IIIK GLOAMIN. 
 
 .lust as the eve resigned her righl 
 Unto the empire of tlie night, 
 A smack, that all the afternoon 
 Hung hovering oh' the coast of Troon, 
 Hoisted her sails, and downward bore 
 Upon the nearest point of shore. 
 And there were those on shore who well 
 The cargo which she bore could tell, 
 And scouts through all the country side 
 Had warned the smuggler band to ride. 
 
 The rendezvous was Holmes, a place 
 Of little note this year of grace, 
 Yet not unknown in foreign land, 
 "When flourished Western contraband. 
 That night, the Irvine, deep and brown, 
 With driftwood charged, came tumbling down, 
 A party reached the ford, and took 
 Of landmarks known a hasty look ; 
 Then plunged into the sweeping tide, 
 And safely gained the other side. 
 
 The wonted muster soon was made, 
 And eke the trusty troop arrayed, 
 Which numbered twice a score and ten 
 Well-mounted,* fearless, stalwart men.f 
 Such men as Ayrshire bred of yore, 
 Such men as Ayrshire knows no more. 
 
 S ■• Note A at end. t See Note B ;it end. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GJLOAMIN. 3 
 
 The leader lacked nor strength nor fire, 
 Rob Fulton, from the Netherbyre,* 
 His chest was deep, his shoulders wide, 
 Clean-limbed, long-armed, well-knit beside ; 
 And dexterously he could command 
 Whatever weapon filled his hand. 
 His sires were erst of Boortreehill, 
 As shown by ancient records still, 
 For honour, strength, and courage famed, 
 And the "long-armed" had been surnamed, — 
 Had shared Drumclog's triumphant fray, 
 And Bothwell Brig's disastrous clay. 
 
 Ne'er better matched were horse and man, 
 Than Rob and's favourite grey mare " Scran," j 
 Sagacious, hardy, and as fleet 
 As if the winds had formed her feet. 
 
 The route it lay through Shewaltou Moss, 
 A track they well knew how to cross, 
 Could stank, and flow, and quagmire shun, 
 At midnight, as in noonday sun. 
 A ditch, they oft without delay 
 Had passed, now stretched across their way, 
 But Fulton's mare at once aside 
 Wheeled, snorted, — whip and spur defied. 
 
 * See Note C at end. 
 
 T Scran, power, or means of accomplishing any purpose. — 
 Jamwson. 
 
GLEANINGS 01 THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Gried John McAdam from behind,* 
 " Ho ! Rob, what qow is in the wind .' " 
 " I cannot tell," said Rob, " but she, 
 The wasp, won't take the ditch for me.' J 
 Then ruder comrades, in the rear, 
 Cried, " Come, don't keep us standing- here. 
 At length, like something on the wing, 
 Scran cleared the barrier with a spring, 
 When Rob a rash acquaintance made 
 With what is termed an ambuscade. 
 The sharks ! the sharks ! was now the cry,- 
 At once dispersed the smugglers fly. 
 The '• red-coats " had already found 
 They were on rather treacherous ground, 
 And thus they left their nimble foes 
 To scamper off as best they chose ; 
 Who, like an interrupted train 
 Of ants, united soon again. 
 
 Upon the beach, near where the bark 
 Displayed of light a fitful spark, 
 They met, and counsel at his flask 
 Each made it first a point to ask, 
 When, after some deliberation, 
 They came to this determination^— 
 The cargo instantly to land. 
 And meet the soldiers hand to hand. 
 
 See Note l> at end. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 The night was dark, the wind was high, 
 And ominous the sea-bird's cry, 
 And the vexed deep, with sullen roar, 
 Broke ever on the sounding shore, 
 Yet in the surf they dashed amain, 
 Although it swept the bridle-rein. 
 No time was lost in idle speech, 
 Again they soon were on the beach, 
 And each two casks of brandy bore, 
 Which brought the cargo all ashore. 
 Brandy ! yes, brandy ! but I hope 
 You don't give fancy so much scope 
 As deem the villanous compound 
 In modern times too often found, 
 A brandy only in the name 
 (To sell which is a sin and shame) 
 Can distant claim of kindred lay, 
 With beverage of the smugglers' day. 
 
 Hence shattered nerves and bated breath, 
 Delirium tremens, sudden death. 
 But what of that ? by men in trade 
 And business fortunes must be made ; 
 Perhaps 'tis Bluestone's grand intent 
 To have a seat in Parliament. 
 One thing, at least he must retire 
 Betimes, and turn a country squire ; 
 What grand suburban villa say 
 Is that across the turnpike way ? 
 
GLEANINGS 01' THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Some seat superb it seems to be 
 
 Of landed aristocracy. 
 
 No, there resides in princely state, 
 
 McGin, the rectifier great, 
 
 What trimly cultivated grounds ; 
 
 And hark, forsooth, a pack of hounds ! 
 
 Is that a crystal palace ? No, 
 
 A greenhouse only, what a show 
 
 Of plants exotic, rich and rare ; 
 
 And how their perfume loads the air, 
 
 So beautiful ! and yet to me 
 
 They speak of blood and robbery, 
 
 And every hound that bays within 
 
 Tells thunder-tongued of death and sin ! 
 
 But where am I ? in this crusade 
 Against the legal poisoning trade, 
 I have forgot the smuggler band 
 Now cantering along the sand ; 
 Kegs deftly slung, and kent in hand, 
 Perchance the trusty kent beside, 
 There were some weapons had been tried 
 At famed Drumclog, or Kullion Green, 
 Or had the moor of Falkirk seen ; 
 Of cognac too they had a fair, 
 Or might be said, a liberal share, 
 And were in quite a proper mood 
 For deeds of daring hardihood. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Not that I wish at all to state, 
 
 Nor even would insinuate, 
 
 That Ayrshire courage stood in want 
 
 Of any foreign stimulant. 
 
 In Scotland's long and starless night, 
 
 When Wallace well maintained her right, 
 
 Still Ayrshire at the chieftain's call 
 
 Was prompt to spurn the Southern thrall, 
 
 On Bannockb urn's eventful day, 
 
 Through thickest, hottest of the fray 
 
 The Carrick spearmen cleft their way ; 
 
 And long Drumclog a light shall be 
 
 Upon the page of history, 
 
 While records red of Waterloo 
 
 Tell still what Ayrshire men can do. * 
 
 But I again must make confession, 
 I've been indulging in digression, 
 A thing you'll readily infer 
 As beiDg but a wanderer. 
 Howe'er, allow me just to say 
 The smuggling party held their way, 
 Till Irvine right before them lay ; 
 By this the moon was sailing through 
 An ocean of unclouded blue ; 
 The wind, like brawling child, to rest 
 Had sobbed itself on nature's breast. 
 
 * See Note E at end. 
 
GLEANINGS OJ CHE GLOAMIN. 
 
 rhey took do roads, ycleped the by, 
 
 To screen them from the public eye ; 
 No, up the Briggate rode the corps, 
 And halted at th' exciseman's door. 
 
 He was a Campbell, stanch and keen ;; 
 As any bloodhound ever seen, 
 And neither fear nor favour knew 
 Whenever duty was in view. 
 And now a loud rat-tat was heard, 
 The postern hastily unbarred, 
 And out came honest Mistress C. 
 And really very sorry she 
 That so much company should come 
 And Mr. Campbell not at home; 
 But would be happy to receive 
 Whate'er commands they chose to leave. 
 Rob Fulton thanked her, said that they 
 Had merely just looked in to say, 
 Should Mr. Campbell be inclined 
 For taking stock to-night, he'd find 
 All things were ready to his hand, 
 Themselves his servants to command. 
 
 With wistful eye the dame surveyed 
 The aspect of the cavalcade. 
 " He's not at home," she said, " but I 
 Think you will see him by and by" 
 
 Sec Note lv at cud. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 And, with significant grimace, 
 Flung fast the door in Fulton's face. 
 A roar of laughter now rang out. 
 A half-suppressed or smothered shout, 
 And up the High Street they have gone, 
 And reached the woods of Esdinton. 
 
 What huge, unwonted shadows fling 
 Their arms across the gorse and hug ? 
 An angle turned at once revealed 
 A plump of horsemen there concealed ; 
 But small the number thus descried, 
 Contrasted with the other side ; 
 The soldiers, reckless of that boot, 
 Resolved the passage to dispute, 
 And quickly gave the mandate — " Charge ! " 
 When like an avalanche at large, 
 The smuggler band came thundering on, 
 And stroke, and thrust, and shout anon 
 Upon the ear of midnight broke, 
 And echoes of the woodlands woke. 
 Shots were exchanged, and sabres sent 
 In shivers by the oaken kent. 
 The onslaught furious was and^fell, — 
 All helter-skelter and pell-mell, 
 Steeds plunged and reared, and onward tore 
 With temper of the men they bore ; 
 The rolling eye, and nostril wide, 
 The started mane, and heaving side, 
 
GLEANINGS OJ nil. GLOAMIN. 
 
 Showed, though the horse may yield to toil, 
 
 Hi- joy is in the battle-broil; 
 
 While some stout smuggler still would bawl, 
 
 " Drumclog," the watchword, beard o'er all, 
 
 When down responsive came the kent, 
 
 And down another trooper went; 
 
 While whalebone whips, well charg'd with lead, 
 
 Sent some without their caps to bed, 
 
 Strong arms were there, heads hard and clear, 
 
 And hearts that strangers were to fear. 
 
 To Lowrie Cockburn was opposed 
 The sergeant, but they'd scarcely closed 
 When Lowrie on his shoulder laid 
 A stroke that made him drop his blade, 
 A voice as loud's an Alpine Iynn 
 Cried, " That's it, weel done, burnewin !" * 
 
 With teeth set hard went Basil Blair 
 To work, and soon unhorsed a pair, 
 The very chargers seemed to know 
 That they had met a dangerous foe. 
 There was a something of portent, 
 E'en in the whistle of his kent ; 
 Basil averred the '• de'il a hair 
 For thae steel spurtles did he care. 
 While oak grew in Craigbury Bank,f 
 Or Pilmore M'nnt, lie wudna thank} 
 
 i,h ' S| '' Nltt ' ,: at end. J See Note H at end. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 11 
 
 The best of smith or cutler trade 
 For the best tool he ever made." 
 As wild was Johnny Pettigrew, 
 And deadly was the stroke he drew, 
 The rider was his mark, of course, 
 But missing him, he felled the horse. 
 Big Davie Andrew of the Troon, 
 Their Ajax, was disabled soon, 
 Among his foes he rushed, the fool, 
 As reckless as a rabid bull — 
 He said " 'Twas but a scart, nae fear ; " 
 The scart it made him take the rear, 
 And for a fortnight after hing 
 His starboard member in a sling. 
 Joe White was like a bear bereaved, 
 He scragged his bonnet, and upheaved 
 His ponderous kent, and galloped in 
 Like winter torrent o'er the lynn. 
 His horse a right was for the road, 
 With shoulder deep and sternum broad, 
 And though of bulky frame, and strong, 
 Was light of limb, of pastern long, 
 And showed the breeding which could tell 
 Upon the long rough ride so well ; 
 Yea, steep the way, and far the bourne, 
 Where " Solway's " coat began to turn. 
 John Reid and Joe fought side by side, 
 And well they helped to turn the tide, 
 For John was limber, light of heel, 
 Ay, certes ! supple as an eel, 
 
WIN.,- ii 
 
 And ever ready with a blow 
 
 To back a friend or floor a foe. 
 
 John Todd, although a horseman light, 
 
 Banged a dragoon six feet in height ; 
 
 Will Gibson laughed ; " Big calves." said 1 
 
 " Are not aye best of veal I see." 
 
 A splinter of a sabre's edge 
 
 In Gibsons kent stuck like a wedge, 
 
 But the next bout the arm was broken, 
 
 That sent the smuggler this love-token, 
 
 For foremost still the brunt to bide, 
 
 In skirmish stern was lang Lochside. 
 
 Bab Fullarton a Tartar caught, 
 
 And several desperate rounds they fought. 
 
 The trooper touched him twice, and drew 
 
 In trickling drops the purple dew ; 
 
 But Rab at last put in a blow 
 
 That laid him o'er the saddle bow. 
 
 Quoth Davie Blair, " That labster's got 
 
 His sauce, I'll wad a guid grey groat." 
 
 The buirdly bold Will Gibson, known 
 
 By sobriquet of " Symington," 
 
 Being rudely jostled in the rush, 
 
 Encountered in the opening brush, 
 
 His broad blue bonnet lost its seat, 
 
 And fell among the horses' feet; 
 
 Will drave bareheaded on ; " Guid e'en," 
 
 Quoth he, " my auld Kilmarnock frien', 
 
 Some heavier losses will be here 
 
 The nicht, ahse 1 shall think ii queer." 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 13 
 
 John Urie, better blade than he, * 
 
 Ne'er threw a limb o'er saddletree, 
 
 He struck so pat, he struck so keen, 
 
 Where'er he charged a gap was seen. 
 
 His right-hand man went roundly on, 
 
 The ready, rough Tarn Allison, 
 
 As wiry as an eagle's wing, 
 
 Nor cared nor feared he living thing. 
 
 Rejoicing in a good melee, 
 
 Which o'er his cups he termed " a spree." 
 
 Bryson f was there (of noted name 
 
 Long afterwards in Eaglesham), 
 
 A most redoubted foeman he, 
 
 And emptied saddles two or three. 
 
 He rode a tall, black, fiery steed, 
 
 Of matchless stamina and speed, 
 
 That went careering through the fight 
 
 Like some grim demon of the night ; 
 
 Indeed, his hue and temper high 
 
 Had earned the sobriquet of " Di." J 
 
 Rab Dickie of the Loans fell in 
 
 With what he termed " a fashious ane," 
 
 But dealt the same a swinging stroke, 
 
 By which his dexter arm was broke, 
 
 Powerless at once, the quivering hand 
 
 Relaxed its grasp, and dropped the brand, 
 
 And in a trice the soldier found 
 
 Himself a tenant of the ground. 
 
 * See Note I at end. + See Note K at end, 
 
 ± Diabolus. 
 
1 i 
 
 "1 ill!-. GLOAMIN. 
 
 Betwixt the horse and rider long 
 
 Had cherished been affection strong, 
 
 Nor now retreat « old Hexham " would 
 
 Bui whinnying by his master stood. 
 
 --Man see that horse." .John Todd exclaimed, 
 
 " The beast might make us all ashamed." 
 
 As chronicles of smuggling say, 
 
 John Lees* bestrode a Yorkshire bay, 
 
 Of seventeen hands at least in height, 
 
 A spanking courser up to weight, 
 
 Resolved was John a shot to try, 
 
 But had not "kept his powder dry," 
 
 He raised his piece, the trigger drew, 
 
 No flash was seen, no bullet flew ; 
 
 Meantime while fingering at the lock, 
 
 John chanced to get a rousing knock. 
 
 He grasped his whip with vengeful ire. 
 
 And swearing that it ne'er missed fire, 
 
 Came on his foe so felly down, 
 
 He cracked both helmet and his crown. 
 
 Tarn Young declared that John's platoon 
 
 Had scared the very man i' the moon ; 
 
 Tarn wounded was, and something deep, 
 
 Yet still contrived the field to keep, 
 
 And stung with pain, if there was aught 
 
 Of difference, e'en more fiercely fought. 
 
 Rob Fulton and his light-heeled mare 
 
 Were out and in, now here, now there ; 
 
 * See Note I, at end. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 15 
 
 In fine he with the exciseman met, 
 
 And at it furiously they set ; 
 
 Armed with his grandsire's good claymore, 
 
 Himself the Campbell bravely bore. 
 
 On blood he seemed intent to be, 
 
 But Robin watched him warily, 
 
 Lifted his mare, and as she fell 
 
 He parried and struck home so well, 
 
 The Gael came headlong to the ground 
 
 With fracture surgeons term compound. 
 
 The military now became 
 Aware that they had lost the game, 
 The exciseman's " Keltonhill " being free, 
 Shot like a bolt across the lea, 
 And soon the rout brought up the rear, 
 Like hunted sheep, or startled deer, 
 While rose a shout, so loud, so bold. 
 It swept the listening moonlight wold 
 From dear Dundonald to Kilbride, 
 From Dreghorn to the Frith of Clyde. 
 
 The outlyer * ox in sheltered nook 
 Sprang up, and fled with frightened look ; 
 The wild cat started from her lair, 
 With flashing eye and ruffled hair ; 
 
 * Outlyer, — this word is generally written outler, which is 
 evidently a corruption. 
 
LG 
 
 GLEANINGS 01 THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 The heron from her fishing dream 
 
 Awoke, and rose with dreary scream ; 
 
 And the owl left her lure of prey, 
 
 And hastened to the rain grey. 
 
 Another peal was given, and third. 
 
 Each louder, and still further heard ; 
 
 The ganuet on the ledge of rock 
 
 Was roused, and swift to seaward broke, 
 
 The seal forsook his natal cave, 
 
 And headlong stemmed the breaking wave. 
 
 Tarn Fullarton, who hailed from Loans,' 
 A Hector when he took to stones, 
 Declared that " wi' a dry stane dyke 
 At hand, he wad ha'e skailed the byke." 
 That night Tarn was not slack nor slow, 
 But dealt and warded many a blow. 
 
 McAdam got a shot,— I beg 
 To say, 'twas rather in a keg 
 He bore, and down o'er horse and man. 
 Like Gilpin's wine the liquor ran. 
 John swore it was a mortal pity 
 To spill so much good aqua-vita?, 
 And wished, a wee while, at the hole. 
 He'd had the chance of taking toll. 
 'Twas for a time a standing jest, 
 John lost more blood than all the rest 
 
 See Note M a1 end 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 17 
 
 And John, 'tis true, could take his drain 
 
 As others did, but sure I am, 
 
 A braver never crossed a horse, 
 
 Nor stemmed a ford, or breaker's course. 
 
 Ralston, who cross as cross could be, 
 Chanced with his horse to disagree, 
 And " Farmer " well maltreatment knew, 
 And well he could resent it too. 
 His mouth was hard, nor curb nor rein, 
 When roused, his fury could restrain ; 
 He took the bit his teeth between, 
 And tail turned on the hostile scene. 
 'Twas said James wheeled on Irvine street, 
 And met his foes in full retreat ; 
 Some asked how time in Dreghorn stood, 
 Which put him in a frantic mood. 
 
 A good one was Barassie's steed, 
 Some held he came of Barclay's breed, * 
 The first to clear a ditch or stank, 
 In fording first to reach the bank, 
 Or venture to the vessel's side, 
 When deep and darkling rolled the tide. 
 But here an ill-directed sword 
 Had chanced to reach his spinal cord, 
 
 * See Note N at end. 
 C 
 
18 GLEANINGS 01 THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 And down he dropped, as dead's that pagan 
 Bucephalus, or Copenhagen, 
 With moistened eye, said Gibson, " Ane 
 Like him, it will be ill to fin'." 
 
 No bipeds met the horse's fate, 
 Nor was the list of wounded great, 
 The vanquished learned the victors could 
 Be generous, though surgeons rude ; 
 It must be owned they did their best, 
 And strongly on the patients pressed 
 The flask,— 'twas " come, a wee drap niair," 
 And let the saw* just seek the sair. 
 
 When rides were longsome, nights were darl 
 While watching by the lone seamark, 
 Or roystering the fire around. 
 When fortune had their efforts crowned, 
 And tongues ran with a loosened rein. 
 This skirmish oft was fought again. 
 When smuggling times had passed away, 
 And gathered to their kindred clay 
 Were many of that manly band, 
 The few upon time's shifting sand 
 That stood, by years though dinted deep, 
 Like Sherwood oaks, or Border keep, 
 Yet, when the summer gloamin still 
 Spread her grey vesture o'er the hill. 
 
 Salve. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 1 ( J 
 
 Or winter rockings cheered the hearth. 
 Or harvest-home, or new year's mirth. 
 Of feats and stratagems they told, 
 Till e'en the children waxing bold. 
 Their grandsire's staff heroic drew, 
 And foes imaginary slew, 
 Or on a fair or market-night, 
 When gifted with the second sight, 
 In smithy, mill, or souter's stall, 
 The audience still they held in thrall. 
 
 Far be from me the wish or thought 
 That those who've set the laws at nought 
 Should lauded be, such deeds but can 
 Demoralize — debase the man. 
 As in the times of which we tell, 
 The lives of some but showed too well ; 
 Others of different moral mould 
 In peaceful industry grew old, 
 Went camly down life's evening tide, 
 Respected lived, lamented died. 
 
 One of this remnant lies at rest 
 In a sweet Hamlet of the West, 
 No sculptured form of Naiad weeps 
 Where the worthy patriarch sleeps, 
 Yet o'er the uuforgotten dead 
 Affection's holiest tears are shed, 
 A pilgrim comes, nor can the days 
 Of half a century erase 
 
GLEANINGS <>r I 111. GJ OAMIN. 
 
 His reverence for that liuiublc tomb : 
 
 How clear the wild flowers there that bloom ! 
 
 Those simple symbols, though decayed, 
 
 Apart as sacred relics laid. 
 
 Wake thrilling thoughts of days long gone 
 
 That language find in tears alone ; 
 
 And often has he blessed the power 
 
 This yielded in affliction's hour, — 
 
 That, trace his line from one he can, 
 
 Who well deserved the name of num.* 
 
 * See Note O at end. 
 
 "^Wf 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 21 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 A TALE OF THE OLDEN TIMES. 
 
 ' ' Even as I have seen, they that plow iniquity, and sow 
 wickedness, reap the same."— Job iv. 8. 
 
 Where Trent steals slowly to the sea, 
 With many a weil and whirlpool deep, 
 
 Through spreading woods and fertile vales, 
 Where happy rustics sow and reap, 
 
 There dwelt in England's earlier day 
 A yoeman good, a yeoman true, 
 
 As ever wielded battle-blade, 
 Or o'er the land a furrow drew. 
 
 To Giles in feature and in form 
 Had nature generous, liberal been, 
 
 But, better far, had given a heart, 
 A soul above whate'er was mean. 
 
 And he had mated happily, 
 
 His Ellen was a beauteous dame, 
 
 And passing virtuous ; years had but 
 Enhanced — refined their mutual flame. 
 
22 GLEANINGS <»i THE GJLOAMIN. 
 
 Hail, holy, heavenly wedded love! 
 
 The greatest blessing here below; 
 Domestic discord, deadliest curse 
 That man is doomed to undergo. 
 
 Three stately sons their union blest, 
 And one fair daughter, fairer e'en 
 
 Than was her mother when she danced 
 The belle upon the May- day green. 
 
 Her locks were like the morning's ray 
 That gilds the eastern mountain's breast, 
 
 Or glories of the summer day 
 Departing in the gorgeous west. 
 
 And who could meet, and meet unmoved, 
 That large round eye of radiant blue, 
 
 When from its long, soft, silken fringe 
 The meekly modest glance it threw? 
 
 Her brow too lofty might be deemed, 
 Sedate — commandingly serene ; 
 
 For Ellen, though of humble birth, 
 
 By nature's hand was stamped a queen. 
 
 A lovelier vision never broke 
 
 On raptured bard's enchanted gaze; 
 
 Such forms are sent on earth to tell 
 What woman was in Eden's days. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 23 
 
 And then her heart was all love's own, 
 There deep affection reigned supreme ; 
 
 Suspicion never soiled her soul, 
 
 Deceit ne'er marred her daylight dream. 
 
 She passed, — the kine came to the gate, 
 
 And after her impatient lowed ; 
 The dog, though old and nearly blind, 
 
 Was still her escort down the road. 
 
 E'en selfish and insidious puss 
 
 When out upon a sylvan raid, 
 Forgot herself was Ellen near, 
 
 And mewing came across the glade. 
 
 In winter-tide the birds she fed ; 
 
 And summoned by her accents bland, 
 The little redbreast fearless came, 
 
 And pecked his pittance from her hand, 
 
 But War, horrid, hateful war ! 
 
 His legions dire spread o'er the land ; 
 And Giles's sons, three bowmen bold, 
 
 Went with the Forest's archer band. 
 
 In evil hour they crossed the Trent, 
 And maid and matron left to mourn ; 
 
 And though the theme of many a prayer, 
 Were destined never to return. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Giles heard it as becomes a man : 
 
 ILi.s tears were nunc, his words were few; 
 
 Yet showed the anguish of the soul 
 His heaving breast and pallid hue. 
 
 Dame Ellen was at once struck down. 
 
 And long unconscious, silent lay ; 
 When speech returned 'twas but to prove 
 
 That reason had renounced her sway. 
 
 One night as Giles beside her sat, 
 And locked in his her wasted hand, 
 
 She spoke : her eye was calm and clear, 
 And firm her voice, though sweetly bland. 
 
 " I've seen them all," she said " and they 
 Are blessed, and shine in robes of white, 
 
 With crowns of glory on their heads, 
 And come to bring me home to-night. 
 
 " Yes, when the clock has numbered twelve. 
 
 Our lov'd ones will again be here ; 
 When I must leave the things of time, 
 
 To find a holier, happier sphere. 
 
 " And Giles, dear Giles ! " she said. " oh, watch 
 O'er this poor lamb when I am gone ; 
 
 A wolf is prowling round the fold, 
 
 Mis deeds too well, too widely known." 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 25 
 
 The rose has left fair Ellen's cheek, 
 
 And e'en her lips are deadly pale ; 
 Her bosom heaves as it would break 
 
 The texture of its silken veil. 
 
 The turret of the antique church 
 
 Has told the hour with solemn tone ; 
 
 And ere its echo died away 
 
 The mother and the wife was gone. 
 
 No form was seen, no sound was heard, 
 Yet something seemed to charm the air ; 
 
 None spoke, yet by their looks confessed 
 They knew that there were angels there. 
 
 A neighbouring knight Sir Arthur was, 
 Young, handsome, and of good estate ; 
 
 His sues had been for valour famed, 
 And owned the lands of olden date. 
 
 But though Sir Arthur's form was fair, 
 His soul was selfish, dark, and vile ; 
 
 And maids of high and low degree 
 Had fallen beneath his practised guile. 
 
 And like too many of his grade, 
 
 So lost and so depraved was he, 
 His conquests boasted o'er his cups, 
 
 And gloried in his infamy . 
 
GLEANINGS 01-' nil. GL0AM1N. 
 
 hydra-headed monster Vice, 
 
 Thy fatal vortex once within, 
 We're sweetly to perdition lulled 
 
 With syren sophistry of sin. 
 
 Another victim of his art 
 
 Again was doomed to fall a prey, — 
 The poor heart-broken father's child, 
 
 Alas ! his only earthly stay. 
 
 Giles saw it all, and bent beneath 
 
 Another load of grief and care ; 
 Yet strength he sought, and strength he found, 
 
 In frequent and in fervent prayer. 
 
 But Ellen was herself no more, 
 
 Would all her former friends evade, 
 
 Paced mood-rapt by the river's brink, 
 Or moped in some sequestered shade. 
 
 Her father looked into the night, 
 And tremulously called her name ; 
 
 The hours passed slow, the moon fell low, 
 And yet, alas ! no Ellen came. 
 
 A dog howled all night by the ford ; 
 
 The sound so mournful was and drear, 
 That, heard throughout the silence deep. 
 
 J i chilled the listners' hearts with fear. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 27 
 
 At early dawn Giles sought the bank. 
 And there, beside a deep, dark pool, 
 
 His faithful dog, old " Sherwood " sat 
 With wistful face, of sorrow full. 
 
 The deep disclosed its secret soon, 
 
 And when they looked upon the dead, 
 
 The eyes of rough, rude men were wet, 
 Ne'er known before a tear to shed. 
 
 The old man saw the corse brought home, 
 
 Was kindly helped into his chair, 
 There sat with pale and rigid face, 
 
 The very portrait of despair. 
 
 The load was more than life could bear ; 
 
 A shadow o'er his visage passed, 
 The harbinger of death, — and with 
 
 A heavy groan he breathed his last. 
 
 And oh ! how blissful must it be 
 
 To the sad, grief-struck, weary soul, 
 Released from iron bondage here, 
 ■ To reach at length the final goal !— 
 
 The spirit land of love and joy, 
 
 Where earth-born ills can ne'er intrude ; 
 
 Where all shall meet who worship here 
 The pure, the beautiful and good. 
 
28 GLEANINGS OF THE GLO \m:x. 
 
 A handsome youth was seen to strew 
 
 Fresh flowers upon a new-made grave, 
 And with the same returning day 
 
 He every year the tribute gave. 
 
 He married not, he dwelt alone, — 
 In brief, a hermit's life he led ; 
 
 And still the annual visit paid 
 
 When fourscore years had bowed his head. 
 
 The votive day again came round, 
 His funeral obsequies were paid 
 
 On that same date, and Herbert's dust 
 In his lov'd Ellen's grave was laid. 
 
 Sir Arthur wed a lady fair, 
 The heiress of a rich domain ; 
 
 And bells were rung, and bonfires blazed, 
 And numerous was the festal train. 
 
 And there were men, grey-bearded men, 
 In priestly office, drank the toast, 
 
 And waxed both eloquent and warm 
 On virtues of their worthy host. 
 
 Is wealth, is power, is prestige theirs, 
 Men may be base, yet with accord 
 
 Their praise in fulsome notes will rise 
 Prom pulpit, press, and social board. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 2 'J 
 
 The night was foul, the ford was deep, 
 And dolesome was the forest's sigh ; 
 
 At lateward hour a passing swain 
 There heard a wild despairing cry. 
 
 Morn dawned, and in that very pool 
 
 Where erst poor Ellen's corse was found, 
 
 Sir Arthur lay, while birds of prey, 
 And omen foul were croaking round. 
 
 His favourite hunter down the stream 
 Lay stretched upon a bank of sand ; 
 
 The bit grasped grimly in his teeth, 
 
 His head marked with the thunder's brand. 
 
 Iniquities of crimson hue, 
 
 An unrepented long array, 
 Had charged the cloud of heaven's wrath, 
 
 And dreadful was the reckoning day. 
 
 Sir Arthur's only daughter was 
 
 Most beautiful, and deeply loved 
 A youth, but he to her was what 
 
 Her father had to others proved. 
 
 Her future course was such as brought 
 
 Disgrace upon an ancient name ; 
 And in the waters of the Thames 
 
 She closed a life of sin and shame. 
 
30 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 His lady long a maniac lived, 
 
 And died at last by her own hand ; 
 His son pursued bis father's course, 
 And perished in a foreign land. 
 
 Where lofty halls with storied panes, 
 
 Reflecting in the solar rays 
 Their rainbow tints, and forms were seen 
 
 Of dames and knights of other days. 
 
 Is now a sere and sterile spot, 
 
 Where runs a weed-choked, straggling stream. 
 O'er which a line of arches yawn, 
 
 Where snorts the iron steed of steam. 
 
 You could not find a stone or tree 
 To tell where once a mansion stood ; 
 
 Their very tombs are gone, as fate 
 With them had an eternal feud. 
 
 'Tis said, sometimes at midnight hour, 
 When Trent is rolling red and deep, 
 
 A cry for help comes from the ford, 
 And scares the peasant in his sleep. 
 
 And some there be who say they've seen, 
 Beneath the moon's pale flickering beam, 
 
 A spectre on unearthly steed 
 
 Terrific, struggling with the stream. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. . 31 
 
 When night had fallen, that fatal pool 
 By old and young is passed with dread 
 
 The angler shuns the hideous gulf, 
 
 Nor there his subtle snares will spread. 
 
 Ye soulless votaries of sense, 
 
 Whose joys arise from others' woe ; 
 
 Your path is paved with broken hearts, 
 And tomb-fires tell the track ye go. 
 
 A moment pause (if pause you may) 
 In this your selfish, reckless route : 
 
 Though Heaven's long-suffering, slow to wrath, 
 Be sure your sin will find you out ! 
 
,1 i. V.NINGS 
 
 A VISION. 
 
 "The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, 
 Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. 
 
 The night was wearing to the middle watch. 
 
 In placid beauty, sea and shore slept soft 
 
 In moonlight, and the working, weary world 
 
 Had sunk to rest ; along the lonely beach 
 
 I careless strayed, and sweetly soothed was with 
 
 The mellowed, mingling murmer of the main ; 
 
 So sang it on Creation's holy dawn, 
 
 And thus shall on the Resurrection's morn ; 
 
 But who that song interpret may ? not one 
 
 Of e'en the wisest of philosophers. 
 
 The past, the present, time, eternity, 
 
 Of all it speaks ; but most methinks it seems 
 
 To lift its voice in wailiugs for the dead. 
 
 On a rude rock, whose base had long repelled 
 The hostile surge, an ancient ruin stood, 
 Roofless and rent, a minstrel of the storm ; 
 A distant century saw it in its prime — 
 Who built, who dwell there, history tells us not. 
 They lived — they looked upon the shore and sea. 
 Were hushed to rest with its loud lullaby — 
 Ajid woke to see the new-born beauties of 
 The coming day, tlioy died — wo wot no more. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 33 
 
 To haunt the ruin prone, I entered in, 
 
 And as I stood in mood contemplative, 
 
 Methought within a rifted arch o'erhead, 
 
 Softened and silvered hi the moonlight sheen, 
 
 A form majestic rose, of stature tall 
 
 It was beyond the goodliest sons of men ; 
 
 His face was worn and furrowed, yet withal 
 
 Still beautiful ; yea, of that beauty rare 
 
 Which years may mar, but not obliterate ; 
 
 His hair flowed o'er his shoulders, and his beard 
 
 Down to his sapphire girdle, and were both 
 
 White, and unsullied as the mountain snow. - 
 
 He wore a high tiara, on which blazed 
 
 In gems the rising and the setting sun ; 
 
 His robe, which might have been pronounced the type 
 
 Of purity, was studded o'er with stars, 
 
 And bright emblazoned on his left breast shone 
 
 The full-orbed moon ; two mighty wings were his, 
 
 Whose plumage of the frosted silver seemed ; 
 
 And in his dexter hand a sceptre huge 
 
 He held, of steel, which spoke his iron sway. 
 
 And as I mutely gazed, he said, " In me 
 Behold the spirit of departed Time ! 
 Men call me old, and some pretend to tell 
 The era e'en when I was reckoned young ; , 
 They little, little know of what they speak ; 
 Millions of years have fled since first this globe 
 Was launched through space, and ere the primal pair 
 
 D 
 
GLEANINGS "I llli: GLOAMrN. 
 
 ( Ireated were, long reproduction and 
 Destruction reigned; yel vain man will be wise, 
 And wise o'er what is written, when appears 
 His folly greatest; even I sometimes 
 Must at their silly speculations smile. 
 Look unto yonder sea, beneath its waves 
 Lie cities, nations, yea, and continents, 
 Nor is one vestige of their history known ; 
 Yet men dwelt there, and they were not a few, 
 Who deemed that immortality was theirs. 
 Turn to the dread Sahara's parched waste, 
 Where Nature, through her palpitating form 
 A fever feels ; Death rides upon the blast, 
 And for his victims digs a burning grave, 
 Yet there have I beheld an ocean deep, 
 Ships ride, and huge sea monsters flouncing roll 
 And marts and mansions on its fertile shores. 
 Of Babylon and Nineveh I saw 
 The rise and wreck, but what are they to those 
 That lie submerged, or buried far beneath 
 The deep foundations of the steadfast hills ? — 
 Sealed till the earth and sea give up their dead. 
 Men say the pyramids are old ; I was 
 Before the Nile was unto Egypt known, 
 An era to which all her monuments, 
 Mysterious writings, yea, and realms of dead, 
 Are but as things of yesterday. I saw 
 The transatlantic continent upheaved, 
 Its "Central Cities" flourish and decay, 
 Nor on the ancient page of history leave 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 35 
 
 One solitary trace. Then came a lapse, 
 A long, long lapse of ages, when arose 
 Those mighty forests, erst the haunt alone 
 Of bird and beast, where now a people dwells, — 
 Presumptuous, boastful, and who talk as if 
 The universe were theirs —children of dust, 
 And destined to be crushed before the moth. 
 
 " ' I am Pharaoh ; ' said the autocrat ; 
 
 And where is Pharaoh, what is Pharaoh now ? 
 
 Pride ill becomes the best estate of man, 
 
 Nor has there ever entered yet his brain 
 
 A dream more baseless than the thought to win 
 
 By aught an immortality below. 
 
 An hour I'll bring when Newton, Shakspere, Burns, 
 
 Wallace and Bruce, a Washington, a Watt, 
 
 Shall have no portion in the roll of fame ; 
 
 Rome, though baptised ' eternal,' shall become 
 
 A Tadmor in the wilderness, a myth, 
 
 And London, Paris, eke partake her fate ; 
 
 Where now the struggling, lab'ring, noisy mass 
 
 Ferments and fumes, shall silence sit supreme, 
 
 Nor find the shadow- of a dreamland left. 
 
 True goodness is true greatness, that alone. 
 
 Seek thou God's word, and let it be a light 
 
 Unto thy feet, and to thy path a lamp. 
 
 Go to the cross in meek humility, 
 
 And there the awful nature learu of sin ; 
 
16" GLEANINGS <>i 1 1 1 1: GLOAMIN. 
 
 For sin it was that uailod the Son of God 
 
 To the accursed tree —a sight that made 
 
 The sun ashamed, and through all nature's frame 
 
 A shudder run that rent the living rock. 
 
 There shalt thou find a treasure to endure 
 
 When both this heaven and earth have passed away 
 
 And I am mated to eternity. 
 
 •• What is most frequently the sceptic mind ? 
 A dismal waste, at intervals illumed 
 With lurid light from the infernal fires 
 Of its sad solace — sensuality, 
 Again in deeper darkness to descend, 
 Where madness lifts his hand against himself. 
 
 " Religion has encompassed been by foes, 
 
 And suffered sad eclipses, but to rise 
 
 Again, and shine with higher, holier light, — 
 
 E'en when her friends professed were most afraid ; 
 
 I say professed, for had they truly held 
 
 The faith, they never would have thought her less 
 
 Than indestructible ; the Church of Christ, 
 
 The pedestal of all that's great and good, 
 
 Is founded on the eternal Rock of Truth, 
 
 Nor earth nor hell against her shall prevail.* 
 
 " Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall 
 not pass away.— Matthew xxiv, 35. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 37 
 
 This sphere, sublimed and purified by fire, 
 A mansion shall become of the redeemed ; 
 But change shall o'er their habitations pass, 
 As o'er the inhabitants : they greatly err 
 Who think the future destiny of man 
 Immutable ; created things are all 
 Subservient to change, the ransomed shall 
 From excellence to excellence arise 
 Through ages endless, nor can there be aught 
 Unchanged, unchangeable, but God himself. 
 Man by his stinted standard is too apt 
 To mete Omnipotence ! I've heard this earth 
 Ycleped ' the hearthstone of creation.' Know ! 
 Should this vast firmament we now behold, 
 With all its suns and systems, disappear, 
 Nature's grand structure were no more unmade, 
 Or marred than would the form of yonder bay 
 Divested of a single grain of sand. 
 God fills all space, and Wheresoe'er He is, 
 There are His attributes, and there is light, 
 And life, and love ; and, of necessity, 
 Creation has no bourne, and, like its great 
 Creator, is unsearchable." Now west 
 A meteor magnificent appeared, 
 I turned a moment, and looked east again, 
 To find my monitor august was gone. 
 
•"" s GLEANINGS 0] mi. GLOAMIN. 
 
 EPISTLE TO MR, JOHN BALLANTINE, 
 KILMARNOCK. 
 
 John, fully forty years have flown 
 
 Since we were to each other known ; 
 
 'Tis but a glance to look behind, 
 
 A moment's effort of the mind ; 
 
 Yet, though but brief the time has been, 
 
 We've many, many changes seen. 
 
 " Auld Killie " of the clays agone 
 
 Is an " auld Killie " now unknown ; 
 
 And if our grandsires could retrace 
 
 Their steps, they would not " ken " the place. 
 
 Ill-ventilated hovels grim, 
 
 That seemed to threaten life and limb ; 
 
 Foul, narrow streets that led nowhere. 
 
 Forswore the sun, and banned the air ; 
 
 Replaced by structures where we find 
 
 Utility with taste combined. 
 
 Old customs and old maimers, too, 
 Have wisely given place to new. 
 The burgess once the day began 
 By moistening of his inner man; 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 39 
 
 Yea, the neat draught of " ruin blue " 
 
 Into his empty stomach threw. 
 
 The wabster's joy was in a sea 
 
 Of " yill " right from the brewery ; 
 
 Around the stoup, or " watering-can," 
 
 They sunk the mental, moral man, 
 
 And sowed to-day the seed of sorrow, 
 
 To reap the bitter fruit to-morrow, 
 
 With health and time and hard-earned gear, 
 
 A brief excitement purchased dear. 
 
 But Temperance came at length to bless 
 
 The dreary moral wilderness : 
 
 Her happy advent angels sung ; 
 
 Earth heard the echo, and it flung 
 
 O'er poet's harp a holy fire, 
 
 Unknown to bacchanalian lyre. 
 
 The blind received then- sight, the lame 
 
 Man leaped, and squalid prisoners came 
 
 Forth from their dungeons, fetter-free, 
 
 Exulting in their liberty ; 
 
 While moody Madness, clothed and sane, 
 
 Sat with his fellow-men again. 
 
 Still reigns the despot ; yet his power 
 
 Is shaken, and we trust an hour 
 
 Is coming, when, from shore to shore, 
 
 A shout, loud as the tempest's roar, 
 
 Shall hail him fallen to rise no more. 
 
 One thing with deep regret I vieAV ; 
 The dear old stately trees that grew 
 
to 
 
 GLEANINGS OJ I1IK GLOA3IIN. 
 
 Around Kilmarnock Bouse have been 
 
 Cut down. How sadly changed the scene 
 
 Since — now some sixty years ago — 
 I drove the rows their shade below, 
 And heard the summer morning's voice 
 In songs that made my heart rejoice ! 
 Those dear old trees, those dear old trees ! 
 How sweet when in their boughs the bees 
 Were humming ! And they still were dear 
 When Autumn's breath had turned them sere. 
 And in the winter's wild nor'-west 
 Their music sung me into rest. 
 The soul, fresh from her Maker's hand, 
 Still dreaming of the spirit-land, 
 Untainted with the world's alloy. 
 Was full of beauty, love, and joy. 
 
 And well we mind the olden school 
 
 Of Tory domination rule ; 
 
 Truth was pronounced a libel then, 
 
 And laws made for " the upper ten ;" 
 
 Monopolies were bought and sold ; 
 
 On the State glebe well-planted gold 
 
 Sometimes produced ten thousand fold. 
 
 Taxed bread, taxed light, taxed lore, taxed leather, 
 
 In short, 'twas taxing altogether; 
 
 While from the pulpit weekly came, 
 
 Backed with the threats of penal flame, 
 
 " Obedience to the powers thai be," 
 
 The minister a devotee, 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 41 
 
 Perhaps of cards and barley bree. 
 
 But thanks to heaven ! those doings are 
 
 Now numbered with the things that were, 
 
 Laid up in all their black array, 
 
 To meet the final reckoning day. 
 
 But one great change that time has made 
 
 Leaves on the mind a lengthened shade ; 
 
 Old friends, old fellow-travellers gone, 
 
 We almost find ourselves alone. 
 
 There is one comfort, and that's great— 
 
 We leave the world in better state 
 
 Than we have found it, and it may, 
 
 We hope, have still a better day. 
 
 
42 \iNi;> 01 DHE GLOAMIN. 
 
 THE SHEPHERD AND TUTOR OF RUSCO ;* 
 
 PLOTTER CAUGHT IN HIS OWN SNARE. 
 
 Where Rusco's ruined tower is seen. 
 Embossed in sylvan vale of Fleet ; 
 
 A lovelier, more sequestered scene 
 The traveller's eye will fail to meet, — 
 
 Here noble Kenmure dwelt of yore, 
 It was in good King James' day ; 
 
 The first, the best of all that line 
 That e'er assumed the royal sway. 
 
 I sing but of a lowly hind, 
 
 Though worthy in his own degree ; 
 Who at the font was Henry hight, 
 
 And Kenmure's herdsman chief was he. 
 
 * Rusco Tower. This picturesque old ruin stands on the banks 
 of the river Fleet, in the vicinity of Gatehouse, and is in the 
 parish of Anwoth, stewartry of Kirkcudbright. The tale of bhe 
 shepherd and tutor has been long current in that district, and 
 
 I- \\ .'II :>rrn'(lrt<'<l 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 43 
 
 He was a Gordon, and as stark, 
 
 As buirdly, and as brave a man 
 As ever charged in Scottish host 
 
 When Grallovidians led the van. 
 
 He loved a maid as sweetly fan- 
 As 'dawning of the summer day ; 
 
 The theme of song, and known among 
 
 The neighbouring swains as " bonnie May." 
 
 And Marion loved her Henry well, 
 
 And all devoid of jealous cares, 
 Upon the moonlight banks of Fleet 
 
 Full many a happy horn' was theirs. 
 
 They wedded were ; by two more blessed 
 The bands of Hymen ne'er were worn ; 
 
 And, when a fleeting year had sped, 
 A lovely, healthy boy was born. 
 
 But there was one to whom this sight 
 
 Was wormwood-sublimated gall ; 
 He looked thereon as Satan did 
 
 On Paradise before the Fall. 
 
 Lord Kenmure had a tutor learned, 
 
 'Twas said he hailed from Italy ; 
 A dark, forbidding, distant man, — 
 
 Was feared, but loved by none was he. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 A suitor for fair Marion's hand. 
 Defeat fell on his spiril proud 
 
 Like water on the red-hot bar, 
 And he indignant, vengeance vowed. 
 
 And schemes he laid, and plots he made, 
 And Kenmure's ear with falsehood plie 1 
 
 But Henry, clothed in mail of truth, 
 The dastard's darts still turned aside. 
 
 Lord Kenmure was annoyed and grieved ; 
 
 At length he said with aspect stern, 
 " That Henry has dishonest been, 
 
 Sir Tutor, I have yet to learn. 
 
 " I've seen him in the battle-field, 
 
 And know he is both stout and brave ; 
 
 And 'tis but seldom Nature gives 
 Such form and features to a knave. 
 
 " That he is not trustworthy 1 
 
 Have heard both now and heretofore ; 
 
 But, till a visual proof is given, 
 I warn yon, I shall hear no more." 
 
 In virtue's course Ave often pause, 
 Alas ! e'en when (he goal is near; 
 
 Hut in the downward path of vice 
 Vs oil are prone to persevere. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 45 
 
 Italian malice for a time 
 
 Was baulked, but soon again it took 
 Its crooked course with double force, — 
 
 So swells the once impeded brook. 
 
 One day again the tutor sought, 
 
 Importunate, Lord Kenmure's ear, 
 Declaring he had something seen 
 
 Of which his lordship ought to hear. 
 
 And thus : — " My lord, as Yirgil's page 
 
 I conning sat in yonder wood, 
 I heard a rushing of the sheep, 
 
 And looking saw they were pursued. 
 
 " Henry was with the dogs behind, 
 The flock he folded, and one drew ; — 
 
 A weighty wether, which he bound, 
 And quickly on his shoulders threw. 
 
 " With hasty, stealthy step he took 
 A devious track through dell and den 
 
 And soon his bleating burden left 
 In that old sheiling in the glen. 
 
 " Short time has but elapsed, my lord, 
 
 Since I was at that sheiling, where 
 I saw the sheep, and should you go, 
 
 You certainly will find it there." 
 
*6 
 
 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Lord Kenmure hurried to the spot, 
 Some trusty servants in his train ; 
 
 And there, in sooth, the sheep he saw, 
 A sight that cost him meikle pain. 
 
 Henry denied it fast and flat, 
 But his report was not received ; 
 
 And all with which he had been charged 
 Was now revived, and now believed. 
 
 Ofttimes they were both brief and stern, 
 
 The trials of the olden day ; 
 And Henry to the gallows-tree 
 
 Was doomed, and forthwith led away. 
 
 Above the castle on the height, 
 
 There stood an old stag-headed oak, 
 
 Where human relics festering hung, 
 And carrion birds were heard to croak. 
 
 'Twas there the raven stripped the scalp 
 To form a litter for her young, 
 
 And fed them with that organ which 
 Had oft the songs of Scotland sung. 
 
 The trappings these of feudal state, 
 The trophies "of the good old time," 
 
 When human life was cheaply held, 
 And little constituted crime. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 47 
 
 Poor Marion followed hard behind, 
 
 With grief distraught, her mien all wild, 
 
 Dishevelled hair and bosom bare, 
 
 And in her arms the unconscious child. 
 
 The inmates of the castle all 
 
 Came rushing out as they passed by ; 
 
 Such scenes were not unwonted, yet 
 There scarcely was one cheek seen dry. 
 
 The Lady was most deeply moved, 
 And said to Kenmure, " Oh, my dear, 
 
 This execution do delay ! 
 
 You have too hasty been, 1 fear. 
 
 • That tutor I could never bear, 
 
 He does not look through honest eyes ; 
 And, if the shepherd is a rogue, 
 I ne'er saw one in such a guise. 
 
 ' Do let me play the judge for once, — 
 
 We women are but vessels weak, 
 But there have Judiths been and Jaels, 
 
 And light may through the darkness break." 
 
 Lord Kenmure hasty was and hot, 
 
 Yet dearly loved his Lacly fan, 
 And known by all in cot and hall 
 
 She was for worth and wisdom rare. 
 
GLEANINGS "i nil GL0AM1N. 
 
 •' Well, be it so," he frankly said. 
 The witnesses were cited straight 
 Gentles and simples all pressed in. 
 
 And anxiously the issue wait. 
 
 A henchman now averred that lie 
 
 The sheep unbound and turned it wide, 
 
 As ordered by Lord Kenmure, and 
 Its legs were with- a garter tied. 
 
 The garter was produced, and proved 
 A piece of quaintly wrought brocade, 
 
 Which took the audience by surprise, 
 Or rather a sensation made. 
 
 Quoth Lady Kenmure. " This is much, 
 Such gewgaws are not shepherd's gear ; 
 
 A part is gained, and by God's help 
 I hope the whole will soon appear." 
 
 The butler now deponed that lie 
 Had seen the tutor have a pair 
 
 Such garters, and proposed that they 
 Should search his person then and there. 
 
 This step was quickly carried out, 
 His one leg was ungartered found ; 
 
 The other wore the counterpart 
 
 Of that with which the sheep was bound 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 49 
 
 This ran electric through the crowd, 
 Of hands and feet rose such a clang, 
 
 Succeeded by a treble shout, 
 Till echoes of old Rusco rang. 
 
 Poor Henry's sentence was revoked, 
 
 But our attempts were only vain, 
 To tell their weeping love and joy 
 
 When he and Marion met again. 
 
 Amid congratulations loud 
 
 The tutor had forgotten been ; 
 At last, when he was in request, 
 
 His presence nowhere could be seen. 
 
 For life so singularly saved, 
 
 Deep gratitude to Heaven was theirs, 
 
 The Lady said, and bade the priest 
 Summon the household all to prayers. 
 
 The house was searched, the waters, woods, 
 This only proved the tutor gone ; 
 
 But where, or how, no trace was left, 
 Nor ever to this hour is known. 
 
 Henry and Marion long survived 
 This jeopardy, and lived to see 
 
 Their children's children rise around, 
 A numerous, goodly progeny. 
 
• r '" GLEANINGS 01 THE GLOAMIUr. 
 
 They ever sacred held thai day, 
 The date of their deliverance ; 
 
 And never Lady Kenmure named. 
 Except with deepest reverence. 
 
 Much we have suffered from, and much 
 Of plotters and of schemers seen, 
 
 And calmly watched sometimes while they 
 Entrapped in their own snares have been. 
 
 They war against the God of truth, 
 And oft, despite of all their arts, 
 
 Even in this world of good and ill 
 Are doomed to meet their due deserts. 
 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 51 
 
 JAMIE AND MARY. 
 
 A LEGEND OF THE LAIGH LAN.* 
 
 On balmy zephyr's western wing 
 
 The summer's e'enin' fell, 
 The bat was flickering through the loan, 
 
 The owl swept clown the dell. 
 
 And from the rustic cot was heard 
 
 The voice of psalmody, 
 Blent sweetly with a chastened sound — 
 
 The moaning of the sea. 
 
 Wee Jessie to her granny said, 
 
 " Come, granny, tell again 
 The tale ye tauld the ither nicht 
 
 Anent young Jamie Train. 
 
 That drowned was wi' his bonnie lass 
 
 Ae muckle Lammas flude, 
 Sweet Mary Dale, that was, ye ken, 
 
 Sae bonny and sae gude. 
 
 * At one time that district of Ayrshire, lying westward from 
 the parish of Kilmarnock, was termed the Laigh Lan'. 
 
■»'- GLEANINGS 01 nil GLOAMN. 
 
 •• I dreamed about it a' that nicht, 
 And tauld it the neist day 
 To Johnny Ramsay, whan the rest 
 schule-weans were at play. 
 
 " He heard it wi' an earnest leak, 
 Awhile he silent sat, 
 Then something said unto himsel', 
 And puir wee thing, he grat." 
 
 Here granny blew a whiff o' smoke, 
 And then said wi' a leer, 
 " Weel, Jessie, I hae aften thought 
 Ye were a kennin' queer. 
 
 " And ne'er a day gaes owre your head 
 But ye some tale bring hame, 
 And they are maistly a' mixed up 
 Wi' that same callan's name. 
 
 "And I maun say't that nou-a-days 
 Some queer things come to pass ; 
 It leuks to me as you twa were 
 Already lad and lass." 
 
 Quoth Jessie, "granny, in your guess 
 
 Ye're no that far aglee, 
 For I like Johnny Ramsay weel, 
 
 And Johnny he likes me. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 53 
 
 " His cheeks are like the roses red, 
 His brow is like the snaw, 
 He has the bonniest wee bit mouth, 
 That ever yet I saw. 
 
 " And his the lovely yellow hair, 
 Like links o' gowd it hings, 
 And a' the birds and flowers he kens, 
 And likes a' bonuie things. 
 
 " And ruffled sarks he wears, that aye 
 Are clearly starched, and clean, 
 The callans ca' bim ' fairy,'* but 
 I kenna what they mean." 
 
 "Now Jessie doo, ye ne'er were ane 
 To slicht my bicldin' yet, 
 We'll say nae mair o' that the noo, 
 Just let the niaukin sit. 
 
 " It was aboot the forty-five, 
 
 When Charlie's Highland host 
 Made Johnny Coup at Preston-pans 
 Repent his braggart boast. 
 
 " The farmer in Corsehillf was than 
 A smuggler, Geordie Train, 
 A man as wicht, and bauld as e'er 
 Laid hand on bridle-rein. 
 
 * A sobriquet by which, the Author was known at school, 
 t Parish of Dreghorn. 
 
•'-• GLEANINGS OF THE &LOAMEN. 
 
 " His son was Jamie, buirdly, braw, 
 
 A likely lad was lie ; 
 And though but young, had foremost been 
 In many a rouch melee. 
 
 " Their servant lass was Mary Dale, 
 And ane mah' gude, and fair, 
 In gentle, or in semple stock, 
 Was not in shire of Ayr. 
 
 "The wooers cam' frae east and west, 
 But still they cam' in vain, 
 For Jamie lo'ed her as his life, 
 And she lo'ed Jamie Train. 
 
 " A widow's only bairn was she 
 "Wha lived in Winehouseyett, 
 A guidly dame as ye would in 
 A simmer day hae met. 
 
 " But little warl's gear she had 
 Ayont her spinnin' wheel, 
 And eideut at it sune and late, 
 Just brought her milk and meal. 
 
 " Hut she had riches whare the richts 
 Of heirs are guarded weel, 
 Where moth nor rust can ne'er corrupt, 
 Nor thieves break through, nor steal. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 55 
 
 It Lammas was, and plichted lang 
 
 The twa had been, and bent 
 For marriage were at Martimas, 
 
 Should auld folk gi'e conseat. 
 
 ■ Ae morning Mary crossed the ford 
 
 To seek her mither's ear, 
 The tale she had to tell was ane 
 
 The fremyt couldna hear. 
 
 And Jamie in her absence socht 
 
 His faither's will to gain, 
 For baith a gey bien man he was, 
 
 And proud, this Geordie Train. 
 
 The day was glorgie, and the kye 
 
 Ran restless through the fiel', 
 The craws were croakin', wee birds a' 
 
 Were seekin' out some beil. 
 
 And sheep were gathered in a knot, 
 
 The dougs wi' heavy e'e 
 And hingin' lugs, and tail, were gaun 
 
 About uneasily. 
 
 At times there wasna win' to raise 
 
 A twitter in the wuds ; 
 Again a breeze sprang up that sent 
 
 The stour alang in cluds. 
 
GLEANINGS OF Till, GLOAMIN. 
 
 "And dark, and gurlie grew the sea, 
 And galls and wliaups ashore 
 Were sailin', and their dreary scraighs 
 Aboon fche breaker's roar. 
 
 " My gutcher chanced to be thereout 
 Upon the road to Ayr, 
 And mony a time he leuked about, 
 And wished himsel' weel there. 
 
 " Bedene the braid, blue lichtnin' flashed, 
 And peals o' thunder ran ; 
 Sae lang, sae loud were scarce e'er heard 
 In memory of man. 
 
 " And doun the rain in torrents fell, 
 And burns ran braid and wide ; 
 Auld Irvine spread frae bank to brae, 
 A red, and rapid tide. 
 
 " That day there was ae humble cot, 
 Nae dread nor fear was there ; 
 A mither, and a dochter knelt, 
 And poured their souls in prayer. 
 
 (The light of faith and hope can still 
 
 The darkest lot illume, 
 The prison cell, the vale of death, 
 
 E'en through the martyr's doom.) 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 " And tears of joy the widow shed, 
 To think her orphan fair 
 Would hae a bien and happy hame, 
 When she should be nae niair. 
 
 " ! little, little do we ken 
 The roads we hae to gae ; 
 Sith unrevealed the future lies, 
 It's wisely ordered sae. 
 
 " The gloamin hour was calm and clear, 
 The Irvine had gaen doun 
 A bit ; but still wi' powerf u' sweep 
 Was rowin' deep and broun. 
 
 " When Mary reached the ford, her joe 
 Was there to bring her hame ; 
 The best horse in his faither's aucht 
 He'd pickit for the same. 
 
 " l O! Jamie, lad, the water's deep, 
 Ye maunna try't the nicht ; 
 I'll back gang to the Winehouseyett, 
 And come wi' mornin's licht.' 
 
 " ' I've crossed it in a bigger spate, 
 Wi' little licht aboon, 
 Except the starns, or maybe wi' 
 That gauger's Men, the rnune. 
 
58 GLEANINGS OK THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 " ' And ' Kelpie ' in a heavy ford 
 Sae muckle seems at hame ; 
 I sometimes say he weel deserves 
 To get his eldrich name. 
 
 " ' I'll come across, and Mary, lass, 
 Ye little hae to fear ; 
 And something I to tell you ha'e, 
 I ken ye'll like to hear.' 
 
 " The double-wechted horse swam weel, 
 But ere they gained mid-stream, 
 Before a raft of drift-wood dense, 
 Came down a heavy beam. 
 
 " And aff the horse it knocked them baith, 
 A wild shriek rent the air ; 
 And in the drumly deep they sank, 
 And sank to rise nae mair. 
 
 " The horse upon the bank was fand, 
 His mane wi' terror raised ; 
 He trembled, nickerin' down the stream, 
 Wi' wistfu' leuk still gazed. 
 
 " The mornin' broke, and on the beach 
 The bodies were descried ; 
 Clasped in each other's arms they lay, 
 For as they lived they died. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 59 
 
 In Dreg'on kirkyard they were laid, 
 
 Ae grave contained them baith, 
 And they that lo'ed sae deep in life, 
 
 Were parted not in death. 
 
 The grave was socht by auld and young, 
 
 And socht for mony a day ; 
 But whare it is, or whare it was, 
 
 Nane livin' noo can say." 
 
60 GLEANINGS 03 mi. GLOAMIN. 
 
 JEANIE SWAN. 
 
 We have been unable to ascertain the date of this execution, 
 either from the public records of Irvine or Ayr ; but it is generally 
 supposed to have taken place upwards of a century ago. The 
 skeleton was first in the custody of Dr Fleming, of Irvine, in 
 whose shop it was long exposed. It next fell into the hands of 
 Dr Walker, again it came into the possession of Dr King, and 
 was ultimately transferred to the Academy, where it was some- 
 times produced in illustrations of anatomy. In Gait's "Provost" 
 we have an epitome of this unfortunate girl's history, but no 
 date is given. 
 
 'Twas far down in the cloudy past. 
 
 The doughty clays of old ; 
 The West was famed for maidens fair, 
 
 And stalwart men and bold. 
 
 In Irvine town there wonned a lass, 
 
 But humble in degree, 
 Yet was there none in cot or hall, 
 
 More beautiful than she. 
 
 And many lo'ed, and many wo'ed, 
 
 The bonnie Jeanie Swan ; 
 But she was proud, and threw a slight 
 
 On many a goodly man. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 61 
 
 Her heart was light, her head was light, 
 
 And turned with flattery ; 
 She aimed at an ambitious height, 
 
 Which proved her misery. 
 
 ! many a one has had to rue 
 
 Their beauty's fatal power, 
 And unto many it has been 
 
 An unpropitious dower. 
 
 That led them to the paths of vice, 
 
 Of vanity and crime ; 
 And left their names a beacon sad 
 
 Upon the shores of time. 
 
 And soon a wealthy spoiler o'er 
 
 Poor Jeanie threw his spell ; 
 As falls the songster by the snake 
 
 Beneath his power she fell. 
 
 And now it was in artful stealth 
 
 A mother she became, 
 And reft the infant of its life 
 
 To hide her sin and shame. 
 
 And though the deed was darkling done, 
 
 It finally was known ; 
 And she was seized by legal power, 
 
 And into prison thrown. 
 
62 GLEANINGS OK THE GLOAMIV 
 
 And there immured a while she lay, 
 A prey to grief and care, 
 
 And sometimes seemed upon the verge 
 Of madness mid despair. 
 
 The sufferings of erring ones 
 In cold, dark, lonesome cell, 
 
 Beneath the anguish of remorse, 
 No words have power to tell. 
 
 At length the clay of trial came 
 With all its cumberous state ; 
 
 The court was crowded, and therein 
 The sympathy was great. 
 
 And such the culprit's beauty was, 
 
 So immature her years ; 
 The judge was moved, and many of 
 
 The audience in tears.* 
 
 Puir Jeanie guilty pled to all, 
 Took all the skaith and blame ; 
 
 Nor unto judge, nor counsel would 
 Tell her seducer's name. 
 
 The verdict that the jury found 
 "Was " guilty " — death the doom ; 
 
 And from the sentence there was left 
 For hope, but little room. 
 
 him 
 
 * " And clothed in the allurement of loveliness, as the judge 
 self said to the jury-" — ©ALT. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 63 
 
 The crime she was to expiate 
 
 Her native town within ; 
 And die a shameful death where she 
 
 Had oft so happy been. 
 
 And that fan face, and that fan form, 
 
 Whereon the hand of heaven 
 So signally had set its seal, 
 
 Was for dissection given. 
 
 But from the time the sentence was 
 
 Pronounced, the culprit's mind 
 Suspended seemed, demoralised, 
 
 Nor reason left behind. 
 
 She spoke not, listless, and inert, 
 
 Sat with a vacant stare ; 
 Nor was there aught to indicate 
 
 That consciousness was there. 
 
 That night before the fatal day 
 
 She was to Irvine brought, 
 Friends many came to comfort her, 
 
 But still no change was wrought. 
 
 And in this state of stupor died 
 
 Poor hapless Jeanie Swan, 
 A victim to unrighteous law, 
 
 And perfidy of man.* 
 
 * We do not here intend to lodge a protest against capital 
 punishment, much has already been said on that question, yet it 
 
64 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 0! mercy much from Heaven we need, 
 
 And mercy we obtain ; 
 But oft when fellow-men seeks ours, 
 
 Alas ! he seeks in vain. 
 
 The sentence all was carried out 
 'Gainst public feeling strong ; 
 
 And, in a local surgeon's shop 
 The skeleton hung long. 
 
 Some looking at the ghastly sight 
 Would her betrayer ban ; 
 
 Some say with sigh, and tearful eye, 
 Alake ! poor Jeanie Swan. 
 
 still remains unsettled. One thing we know that God was the 
 judge of the first murderer, yet the penalty was not death. 
 But after the flood this divine mandate was emphatically given, 
 " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." 
 In this case, at least from all that has come down to us tradi- 
 tionally, the poor girl was labouring under mental aberration, 
 and, therefore, in a very improper condition to meet death. In 
 our own times there have been murderers whose crimes were of 
 the most odious chai-acter, and it has been said that such men 
 were unfit to live. But here arises another question — "Were 
 they fit to die ?" As regards public executions the experience of 
 past ages has shown that they have anything but a salutary 
 influence on the community, and therefore have been wisely 
 abolished. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 65 
 
 But who the base destroyer was 
 * Has never yet been known, 
 Nor may until he stands disclosed 
 Before the great white throne. 
 
 But this, and much besides God's Word, 
 
 To calm reflection say, 
 There is for all beneath the sun 
 
 A final judgment day. 
 
GLEANINGS 01 rill-: GLOAMIN. 
 
 RINDERPEST SWAN. 
 
 INSCRIBED MOST RESPECTFULLY TO MY AL'LD SHOPMATE, 
 SANDY SERGE, BY JOHN WABSTER. 
 
 Now, Sandy, siuce ye are engaged in a tour, 
 A sketchin' o' portraits the hale kintra ower ; 
 Just tak' ye a day, and step east a bit, man ! 
 Ye'U fa' in wi' a rare ane, ca'd Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 Frae his aiu native village the upstart was spurned, 
 And there, for foul deeds, had his effigy burned ; 
 But now he's like Lucifer leading the van 
 To storm Heaven's battlements, Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 A carriage, and servants in livery has he, 
 A cellar with vintage from every countrie. 
 A cook, and a concubine, mair than I can. 
 Or daur e'en to tell, has this Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 And wealth, wit, and talent his table surround, 
 Ay, genius itself sometimes there may be found ; 
 liven Janus the Poet, " contented wee man," 
 Can play " Whistle Binkie" to Rinderpest Swan. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 67 
 
 And wka pays for this ? why, the poor mau maun eat 
 And that too, richt seldom, a dear pund o' meat ; 
 While profits sae sma' mak' the pinched butcher ban 
 Arrears, and stamped paper, and Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 And yet the morale of this man is as dark 
 As .the throat of a wolf, or the maw of a shark ; 
 He breaks both the statutes of God and of man 
 Without hesitation, the Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 And both I ashamed am, and sorry to say, 
 He has in high places allowed been to bray ; 
 And that in bad grammar tell falsehoods he can, 
 To even legislators, the Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 One night, in the distance, a young swell I met, 
 Thinks I, who is this with so much canvass set ; 
 Perhaps Duke Edina, but nearer to scan 
 I found 'twas a cygnet of Rinderpest Swan. 
 
 But such is the lot of the wicked we see, 
 To flourish, and spread like a green laurel tree ; 
 They serve but a purpose in Heaven's lofty plan, — 
 There's a dark clay of reck'ning for Rinderpest Swan. 
 
"I- IIIK GLOAMIN. 
 
 VICTIMS OF ALCOHOL. 
 
 The summer's eve her lazy mists had spread 
 
 From bank to bank of Mersey's muddy stream, 
 
 And half concealed her multifarious craft. 
 
 Aboard a steamer I had got, about 
 
 For Scotland's west metropolis to sail. 
 
 Here met, among the passengers, with two, 
 
 A man and woman, strangers they to me, 
 
 Yet, from some cause indefinite, I took 
 
 An interest in them. Evidently he 
 
 Was one who had by labour earned his bread, 
 
 And though he scarcely had attained the time 
 
 Of life's meridian was much broken down, 
 
 And prematurely old, his countenance 
 
 Bore marks of mental imbecility, 
 
 His manner was eccentric, quiet withal. 
 
 Indeed, he seemed a harmless maniac. 
 
 The woman was much younger, better dressed, 
 
 And handsome, yet a shade of sorrow deep 
 
 Sat on her face, and sometimes I could see 
 
 In her dark thoughtful eye the rising tear. 
 
 Her pom- companion's painful history 
 
 At last from her I learned, in Scotland he 
 
 Engaged in a distillery had been ; 
 
 And to this sorry state had brought himself 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE G LOAM IN. 6\) 
 
 By drinking. She, a sister of his wife, 
 
 Had been with him unto his native place, 
 
 There an asylum sought ; but guardians had 
 
 Refused admittance, they returning were 
 
 To his poor heart-struck wife, who was at home 
 
 With eight young children, and in poverty. 
 
 Now midnight spread her solemn, sable wing, 
 
 O'er land and main, the livid lightning flashed 
 
 And thunder muttered in the distance deep, 
 
 When the poor invalid was taken ill ; 
 
 Upon the steerage floor himself he threw, 
 
 Convulsed, and cramped, together coiled as we 
 
 Have seen the hedgehog in the winter tide. 
 
 In dreadful agony he seemed, but brief 
 
 His sufferings were, few minutes he was gone, 
 
 So sudden — unexpected was the change, 
 
 With grief his guide was overwhelmed, and met 
 
 With sympathy from all, the corpse was wrapped 
 
 In tarpawline, and to the leeward laid. 
 
 All night I paced the deck, and oft revolved 
 
 The thought, in what a melancholy state 
 
 The widowed mother, and the orphans eight 
 
 Would be, when this sad burden was brought home ; 
 
 For years I now had an abstainer been, 
 
 But, had I not, that night had made me one. 
 
 " Touch not, taste not, handle not,"* should be 
 The text still paramount in every mind, 
 
 " :: " Colossians ii. 21. 
 
GLEANINGS 01 nil. GL0AM1N. 
 
 No man is sale thai takes it in his hand, 
 
 What e'er he is, whateVr lie may have been ; 
 To-day he stands, to-morrow he may fall. 
 And fall to rise no more ; nor do I know 
 \ wretch beneath the firmament of heaven 
 Deserving our commiseration more 
 Than one to drink enslaved. One early morn 
 To one of Glasgow's many dramshops came 
 A man in life advanced, and farther still 
 Advanced in ruin's road, for he was one 
 Errant from God, from Nature, and from Truth. 
 He asked a glass of spirits, which he drank 
 With greatest gusto, and a second; now, 
 He said, " I feel much better," and addressed 
 The landlord and assistant thus : — " ! men 
 Of drink beware, and do beware in time, 
 Else ye may one day be what I am now. 
 That first glass set before me, my desire 
 So ardent was, so irresistable, 
 That I had drunk it, though a voice from heaven 
 Declared the act would seal my endless woe." 
 
 fc.^y? ; 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 71 
 
 THE QUAKER AND THE SCEPTIC DANDY. 
 
 It happened in those days when Jehu ruled 
 The " road " with sway supernal, gentlemen 
 Were sometimes found professors of the whip, 
 As Barclay, Barnton, and many more. 
 Meantime the " rail," a mighty secret, lay 
 Among the mysteries of Time untold. 
 It happened —what then happened? you will say, 
 This simply, that a worthy Quaker got 
 Upon a stage-coach, and beside him sat 
 What some might term a dandy, swell, or spark, 
 Or by some other designation know, 
 With which we will not interlard our page ; 
 But he was quite as fine as dress, and rings, 
 And chains, and studs could make him, and although 
 The day of modern hirsute had not dawned, 
 Yet underneath his nose a something grew 
 Where Jenny Wren might well have built her nest. 
 Of scent, and of cigars an odour strong- 
 He bore about him, and his language oft 
 Polluted was with expletives profane, 
 And he as weak, and wicked was as try 
 To turn religion into ridicule. 
 At length he of the contest spoke, betwixt 
 The youthful David and the Philistine, 
 
And said it was impossible that e'er 
 
 A shepherd lad should with a sling have made 
 
 Such deadly fracture in the giant's scull. 
 
 With stern, but tranquil look the Quaker eyed 
 His fellow-traveller, and said, " Well, friend. 
 Of one thing sure I am, it would have been 
 A feat quite easily accomplished, if 
 Groliah's head had been as soft as thine" 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. HUGH GLOVER, 
 OF NORTH SUNDERLAND. 
 
 ' ' The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. " — 
 cxii. 6. 
 
 We parted lately, through my mind there passed 
 
 A strong presentiment it was our last ; 
 
 And though fast friends of old, the suns had set 
 
 Of thirty years, since we before had met. 
 
 And many a painful, many a pleasing thought 
 
 From memory's recess that conference brought, 
 
 Companions of our early days all gone, 
 
 We stood upon the verge of life alone ; 
 
 But days departed, dear, dear, happy days, 
 
 Returned again in all their magic rays 
 
 Of things past-purified, of time refined, 
 
 The base, the gross, earth earthy left behind. 
 
 In those sweet days what joy, what bliss was ours ? 
 
 When birds, and bees, and butterflies, and flowers 
 
 Seemed prizes greater than the bard's renown, 
 
 The victor's laurels, or the monarch's crown; 
 
 Then burns were rivers, and the rivers seas, 
 
 And kennel-dams, and mudpies ecstasies ; 
 
 And there were ghosts, and giants, brownies too, 
 
 And fairies of a very verdant hue, 
 
 Warlocks, and witches, and that famous lune 
 
 The impious man imprisoned in the moon. 
 
74 GLEANINGS 01 mi GLOAMIN. 
 
 But manhood's dawn drew on. and ardent grew 
 The thirst for knowledge, with resources few; 
 Still all that fortune in our power had placed 
 Were early sought, and eagerly embraced. 
 
 But now the woods and fields we oft had ranged, 
 
 For the damp, dingy workshop were exchanged, 
 
 No song of birds, no voice of waters there. 
 
 No wild flowers breathing odours on the air ; 
 
 True, there were flowers, but minus scent and bloom, 
 
 The false, extraneous offspring of the loom ; 
 
 That loom ! whose toil was one unvarying round. 
 
 With one unchanged monotony of sound ; 
 
 But evils oftentimes are mixed with good, 
 
 If man their purport rightly understood. 
 
 The coarsest web of life with care unrolled, 
 
 And Christian charity shows threads of gold, 
 
 For now the week's half-holiday a zest 
 
 Imparted, time had ne'er before possessed, 
 
 And our old haunts so loved, and so revered, 
 
 By absence only were the more endeared. 
 
 When tired of rambling, some sequestered nook 
 
 Was sought, and there perused a favourite book ; 
 
 But one most frequent into service pressed 
 
 Was Cowper, paramount o'er all the rest ; 
 
 We took sweet counsel too on things divine, 
 
 And talked of Scotland's days of auld langsyne. 
 
 And 'tis amusing to retrace the road 
 
 And think how warm young patriol feelings glowed, 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 75 
 
 Fraught with a wisdom much beyond thy years, 
 Thy converse was, aud thus by thy compeers 
 Was prized, and eke a piety sincere, 
 And modesty that made it still more dear. 
 
 When came the nights of winter, long, and bleak. 
 And others in the tavern closed the week, 
 We met, and round no fire in all the land 
 Was there a happier, more fraternal band ; 
 Our pleasures rose on hope's celestial wings 
 And soared superior to terrestial things, 
 Hopes that may brighten in eternal day, 
 When earth and all its things have passed away. 
 
 Now of that band the sole survivor I 
 Still see the past in chastened beauty lie ; 
 And still as memory haunts the hallowed shore, 
 She hears the surge's solemn song " no more." 
 
ON READING THE SPEECH OF SIR WILLIAM 
 
 THOMSON, AT THE OPENING OF THE 
 
 BRITISH ASSOCIATION IN EDINBURGH, 
 
 2nd AUGUST, 1871. 
 
 "It is true that a little philosophy inclinetli men's minds to 
 atheism ; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about 
 to religion." — Bacon. 
 
 This certainly is Science run insane, 
 
 A freak fantastical, enough to bring 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton's spirit from its rest ; 
 
 Or on his monumental busto raise 
 
 A blush of shame — wealth, time, and talents spent 
 
 In gathering the vintage of the wind, 
 
 And worse, pernicious, to the public mind ; 
 
 But fit of pity, or contempt to move 
 
 A smile, they verily themselves may call 
 
 Mere if animals," an " evolution " that 
 
 Would turn them into scavengers, were sure 
 
 A transformation for their country's good. 
 
 According then to something that's ycleped, 
 Hypothesis, or hobby, or humbug, 
 Or other phantasma, it does appear 
 The orbs that navigate etherial space 
 Sometimes their heads together knock like rams. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 7 
 
 Or belligerious bulls ; but these may be 
 
 But similies too tame when speaking of 
 
 Such gentlemen gigantic, so we will 
 
 Say trains at speed express, which are perchance 
 
 More classical, and nearer the sublime ; 
 
 But when those grand collisions do take place, 
 
 The fragments fly about, or debris, which 
 
 My granny would have aptly " moolins " termed. 
 
 And that of old some fragments of this kind 
 
 Have reached the earth, and thus our terrene globe 
 
 With man and animals has peopled been, 
 
 And in its pristine verdure was arrayed. 
 
 Methinks I see in shape of centipede 
 
 Our race's great progenitor descend, 
 
 Horsed on a peeble, and suppose his jaunt 
 
 Of miles some millions, and I do suspect 
 
 His contact with the earth were of such kind 
 
 As would a little rather discompose 
 
 His vital organs, or perhaps it were 
 
 As Jonathan would say, a " tarnal smash," 
 
 " Prodigious !" surely, may we not expect 
 
 Some morning fine a deputation of 
 
 Those ten-mile fellows that star-dumplins eat, 
 
 Sup moonshine porridge, and around their necks, 
 
 By way of comforters, wear comets' tails ; 
 
 Nor should I be at all " surprised " although 
 
 My terrier Bessie should start up at once 
 
 A lioness, and stun the ear of night, 
 
 Or shake the street with her terrific roar. 
 
7^ GLEANINGS 01 I III. GLOAMIN. 
 
 No doubt. Sir William, you're a learned man, 
 
 Of intellect potential, a savant 
 
 Of deep research, aad it may well be deemed 
 
 Absurd, impertinent, in such as I 
 
 Who little know of school, of college less, 
 
 And sprung from peasant race, thus in a straiE 
 
 Didactic, to attempt to talk to you ; 
 
 And yet an ant may teach an elephant, 
 
 And I would very humbly beg to say 
 
 There is a book called " Genesis " which you. 
 
 Sir William, with some profit might peruse. 
 
 I beg your pardon, and mean no offence, 
 
 But there, in proper spirit, if you would 
 
 Just deign to read, you will discover soon 
 
 And from the best authority besides, 
 
 How life on earth originated, and 
 
 Whence all the verdure with which she is clothed, 
 
 This were a surer and a safer guide 
 
 Thau science of the ignis-fatuus school. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 79 
 
 WRITTEN ON A VIEW OF THE BAY OF AYR. 
 
 After long months in London's sterile streets, 
 
 Of wheels, and voices, tumult, and turmoil, 
 
 Of callous wealth, and bloated vice, and pinched, 
 
 Pale faces worn with penury, and toil ; 
 
 And lynx-eyed selfishness still seeking whom 
 
 It may devour, how passing, pleasing sweet 
 
 This draught of beauty sinks upon the soul ; 
 
 A spirit speaking of the vast unseen, 
 
 A holy song of love, and peace, and joy, 
 
 That lends to faith and hope the wings of morn. 
 
 Beu-Ghoil, sublimity of ancient days, 
 
 In ocean's darksome depths thy base is laid ; 
 
 Thy head majestic wrapped in golden clouds 
 
 Of sunset glory. Well I mind the hour 
 
 When first thou broke on my enraptured gaze, — 
 
 A retrospect it is of threescore years. 
 
 One Sabbath eve serene of early spring, 
 
 Among thy peaks, and crags still lingering lay 
 
 The skirts of winter. Spell-bound and entranced 
 
 I stood, and found a something in myself 
 
 Unknown before, my mental being seemed 
 
 At once expanded, and o'ercharged with thought 
 
 Of novel nature, indefinable, 
 
 That, almost with the patriarch of old, 
 
 I could have said, " how dreadful is this place ;" 
 
 What is the era of thy birth, none knows, 
 
 Nor ever shall, perhaps there was a tide 
 
GLEANINGS OK THE GLOAMIN 
 
 When scarcely rose thy summit o'er the deep. 
 
 Scarce formed a resting place for vagrant bird, 
 
 And there may be an hour in unborn time 
 
 When thy foundations to the sun exposed 
 
 Shall lie, and all the multitude of waves 
 
 That long their ceaseless serenade have sung, 
 
 Be heard no more. What changes on these shores 
 
 Thou witnessed hast ! the aborigines 
 
 In painted skins, with arms of adamant ; 
 
 The Roman, Dane, and English all alike 
 
 Our country seek to subjugate, and all 
 
 Alike defeated ; thus the wave assails 
 
 A rock impregnable to wound itself ; 
 
 Tide after tide of human life thou hast 
 
 Beheld arise upon the track of time 
 
 To swell, and chafe its fleeting hour, and sink 
 
 In the dark ocean of eternity. 
 
 Down to the shore, the landscape on the left 
 Slopes sweetly, there a variegated scene 
 Of beauty rich disclosing, verdant lawns 
 With woodlands skirted, fields of golden grain. 
 That waving seem to woo the husbandman ; 
 And villas in whose shining panes are seen 
 The ruddy light, the dying day's farewell. 
 Grey Greenan on the promontory pitched, 
 A veteran sentinel, o'er wdiich the storms 
 Of centuries have swept, yet looming still 
 Through dusk, and dawn, a relic picturesque, 
 To glad the eye of home-bound mariner. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 81 
 
 ON THE REJECTION OF THE EDINBURGH 
 
 WATER BILL BY THE HOUSE OF LORDS, 
 
 JULY, 1871. 
 
 The object of this Bill was to bring a supply of water to 
 Edinburgh from St Mary's Loch, a distance of nearly 60 miles, 
 and at a cost of £500,000. 
 
 " I know your hearts are full of guile, 
 And crooked are your ways." 
 
 St. Mary's heard ! and suddenly her face 
 
 Was with a smile of gratitude suffused ; 
 
 The guardian spirit of the waters raised 
 
 A song ot victory, that lingering seemed 
 
 In love with echoes of the neighbouring hills ; 
 
 The Shepherd's* monument the part of clerk 
 
 Performed, responding with a deep " Amen !" 
 
 Grieved had they been to think the classic wave 
 
 Should subject to a bearish council be, 
 
 And now she was enfranchised, were rejoiced. 
 
 City of shams, and shuffles manifold, 
 From which sincerity has banished been, 
 And conscience, inconvenient, turned adrift ; 
 
2 GLISANENGS OF Mil-: GLOAMIN. 
 
 Men should say whal they mi an, mean what they say 
 But he who trusts to you for this will find 
 lie leans himself upon a broken reed. 
 
 You muster strong in churches, it must be 
 Confessed, but equally as strong in stews, 
 And houses where the poison-draught is sold 
 That drives men maddened clown the steep descent 
 To ruin swift, and irremediable. 
 
 The antique portion of your structure has 
 
 Been picturesque pronounced, and sooth it is ! 
 
 And doubly so in verity, for there 
 
 Can pictures be produced of vice, and crime, 
 
 Of destitution, degradation, sin, 
 
 And suffering, such as London's lowest, slums 
 
 Are strangers to, yea, huddled there in dens, 
 
 In cribs, and stys, in darkness, and in filth, 
 
 And pestilential atmosphere, unkempt, 
 
 Unwashed, untaught, in rags, and nakedness ; 
 
 Delirious with adulterated drinks, 
 
 Are hundreds perishing from day to day, 
 
 O'er which the white-winged messengers of love 
 
 On mercy's mission, passing drop a tear, 
 
 To see their Maker's image thus disgraced.* 
 
 * This piece of portraiture, dark though it he, is fully 
 corroborated hy Bailie Lewis, in a lecture which he delivered 
 in the Queen Street Hall on the ' ' Lapsed Masses of Edinburgh, 
 and means of their social elevation," 13th March, 1S72. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAJIIN. 83 
 
 But on your vesture there's another stain, 
 
 So black, so deep, indelible, that all 
 
 The waters of the Forth, nor rains of heaven, 
 
 Nor snows, nor torrents of a thousand hills, 
 
 Can ever wash away. In places high 
 
 The canker sits, is winked at, patronized ; 
 
 Ay, we have known officials eminent 
 
 In place, and power, instruct subordinates 
 
 To give such evidence as would have been 
 
 Rank p y, and sad to say, this crime 
 
 The path to favour, and preferment is, 
 While truth, and honesty as surely fail. 
 
 But there is one that you could not corrupt, 
 Who had he lifted up his hand and sworn 
 That black was white, and vice versa, might 
 Have still been in your service, but he chose 
 The nobler, and the better part, and though 
 His place he lost, kept his integrity. 
 
 In councils for the commonweal convened, 
 Where wisdom, peace, and charity should dwell, 
 Folly perverse, and discord rampant reign, 
 An exhibition of bear-garden style ; 
 How much degenerate since hailed by Burns 
 As " Scotia's darling seat," his monument 
 To Glasgow's custody you should transfer, 
 And in its stead, and on its site erect 
 A temple to the Janus Deity. 
 
y4 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 'Tis well that you are under the control 
 Of others better, wiser than yourself, 
 Who, by the discipline of rod and rein, 
 Can bring you to the pace of common sense. 
 
 Perhaps the regimen that Babylon's king 
 Of old was under, were advisable, 
 To wit a season septenary at grass. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 85 
 
 IN MEMORIAM OF JAMES TEMPLETON, 
 THE AYRSHIRE » LEGREE." 
 
 A wretch that would potatoes plant 
 With ashes of his mother, 
 
 And send unto the knacker's yard 
 The body of his brother. 
 
 Here, buried in a Yankee kailyard, lies 
 
 "What some called " Rougkie," " Bluster," or the " Bear; 
 
 Others of plainer speech bestowed on hirn 
 
 The name of " Miser," " Skinflint," and the like ; 
 
 From other quarters came the epithets 
 
 Of " Villain," " Scoundrel," and such compliments, 
 
 And at his nephew's funeral he was called 
 
 A " Murderer." Perchance some fiend purloined 
 
 The child that his reputed mother bore, 
 
 And left this moral monster in its stead ; 
 
 For he was only an amalgama 
 
 Of demon, boor, and brute in human form. 
 
 His servants were oppressed, insulted, snubbed, 
 And fed on offals, sweepings of the shops, 
 
bb GLEANINGS 01 THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 And shambles; refuse fit but to be thrown 
 
 To 'logs, or to the dunghill. When our town 
 Was inundated, grocer's goods destroyed 
 With sand and debris, these he purchased with 
 Pretence of feeding pigs and poultry ; but 
 He thereon fed his servants, sister's suns. 
 
 With malady of mind his father once 
 
 Afflicted was; the miscreant to save 
 
 Expense of an asylum, undertook 
 
 His keeping, beat him, hung him by the feet, 
 
 And when he failed to quell, or overcome 
 
 The patient thus, he grasped him by the throat 
 
 Until insensibility ensued. 
 
 This once I saw, and was ashamed to think 
 
 My native county had produced a man 
 
 Who was commensurate with such a deed. 
 
 His father in his aberrations oft 
 
 Denounced his son, and on his head invoked 
 
 The curse that he should wed a barren wife ; 
 
 And some were struck, and well indeed they might- 
 
 Forsooth ! this malediction was fulfilled. 
 
 It well may be supposed the wretch that could 
 
 Thus treat his father, would a coward be ; 
 
 And he was one, as great as e'er disgraced 
 
 The land illustrous by the birth of Bruce, 
 
 The sword of Wallace, and the sons; of Burns. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 87 
 
 Misfortunes seldom single come, 'tis said, 
 Embarassments, and difficulties next 
 This house assailed, and ruin imminent 
 Appeared, and he the only son, that should 
 Have braved the adverse tide, shrunk from his post, 
 And to his mother left it, who against 
 Hope still hoped on, and with a fortitude 
 That few have equalled, none e'er yet surpassed, 
 Struggled, and strove, and finally o'ercame ; 
 Yet was there not in all the western shire, 
 Perhaps from point of Troon to Peterhead, 
 A mother more dishonoured by her son. 
 
 Unto a harmless imbecile at last 
 
 The old man sunk ; and on his partner years, 
 
 And care, and toil, had wrought the accustomed chaDge ; 
 
 And now their son unnatural, seized on 
 
 Their stock, and lease, on his own niggard terms, 
 
 And drove his aged parents from their home; 
 
 But ere his mother left that hearth where she 
 
 Had been respected, reverenced, and loved 
 
 By all who knew her, save her worthless son, 
 
 And from whose door the poor had often gone 
 
 With blessings on their lips, and grateful tears, 
 
 She stood like ancient pythoness with form 
 
 Dilated, and, to the despoiler thus — 
 
 " What you have done to me will henceforth stand 
 
 Against you — as engraven with a pen 
 
 Of iron in the adamantine rock," 
 
GLEANING i 01 nil GLOAMIN. 
 
 She lived to see the man thai had her thus 
 So deeply wronged, a prisoner for debt. 
 
 But still the darkesl passage is untold — 
 At every meal Legree, with lengthened face, 
 A lengthened blessing asked, and thanks returned, 
 And every night he household worship made ; 
 With mockery of his Maker closed the day, 
 That mirth created in the depths of hell. 
 
 What was the aggregate of all at last ? 
 
 From fell oppression both of man and beast, 
 
 Extortion, robbery, and murder eke, 
 
 A few poor, paltry hundred pounds, and what 
 
 The consumation? died in foreign land, 
 
 The wretched owner — to an alien left 
 
 His ill-got gatherings, mortgaged with a curse. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOABIIN. 89 
 
 JOHNNY SNOW. 
 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 White above, and black below, 
 The name becomes you well, I know 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Why should you so crously crow ? 
 'Tis not very long ago 
 Since finances were but low ; 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Ye do very plainly show 
 Where the mounted beggars go ; 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Ye your upper lip should mow 
 Courage true did never glow 
 Petty tyrant's hat below ; 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Ye stand high in number ten, 
 Ay, with what an air you go, 
 Wags your rump like any wren ; 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Poorly lined your knowledge box, 
 To King Solomon do go, 
 Read his precepts orthodox, 
 There this fitting truth you'll meet 
 Fools are wise in their conceit ; 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 By the sinners' bands arc wrought 
 Snares with which themselves are caught 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Hot and cold you both can blow, 
 Play the game of fast and loose, 
 Hunt with hounds and hunt with puss, 
 Fitly might elected be 
 High priest of duplicity ; 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow, 
 Twice your father's debt I paid, 
 And, I only beg to show 
 What was the return you made ; 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow 
 Joined a knot of snakes that shed 
 
 Slander's venom on my name, 
 
 Reft me of my daily bread. 
 
 Johnny Snow, Johnny Snow. 
 
 Pause ! it may not be too late, 
 
 Be to harbour malice slow, 
 
 Shun the crooked, seek the straight ; 
 
 Mind ! a deathbed you must meet, 
 
 And, at last, a judgement seat. 
 
 # 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 91 
 
 ON READING A WORK IN WHICH THE 
 
 AUTHOR, IN A YERY RIDICULOUS MANNER, 
 
 ATTEMPTS TO CLAIM A CONNECTION 
 
 WITH BURNS. 
 
 How many now are fond to cling 
 
 To Burns's car of fame, 
 A selfish subterfuge to bring 
 
 Themselves into a name. 
 
 From Maidenkirk to John o' Groat's, and eke 
 From Troon's peninsula to Peterhead, 
 Let all the bells ring out their merriest peals, 
 And all the thistles wave their purple tops, 
 And every " opening gowan wet wi' dew " 
 Its sweetest smile subscribe ; and let the bards 
 The boldest numbers of their lyres awake, 
 Till echo from her cavern cry — " encore !" 
 Let sculptors too, and painters be prepared 
 With something worthy of the grand event ; 
 That to the ends of earth it may be known 
 A most august discovery has been made — 
 One that shall see the exit of the sun. 
 Yes, be it known to all, both small and great, 
 To rich, and poor, illiterate, and learned, 
 
92 
 
 GLEANINGS OK THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 A certain savanl has a pilgrimage 
 
 Made to Mossgiel, and there a mouse has caught. 
 
 W 1ml, he, by proofs indubitable, knows 
 
 To be a lineal descendant of 
 
 ^at which the Poet tamed up with the plough- 
 
 Moreover, he too subsequently went 
 
 To Mauchline's classic town, and spent the night 
 
 In the same house where Poosie Nansie dwelt 
 
 And in the morning found upon his beard 
 
 A « crawhV ferlie," but so « plump," and >< grey ■ 
 
 ^"gjozet" like, he knew it of the breed 
 
 Which Burns on Miss's fine Iunardi saw 
 A fact beyond all controversy quite. 
 
 Another thing of greater import still 
 
 He all the archives of the place ransacked 
 
 And, with that garrulous inhabitant 
 
 The " oldest " talked, and finally found out 
 
 lnat he himself a cousin-german is 
 
 To Jamie Humphrey, he on whom the bard 
 
 A " blethenn'" immortality conferred. 
 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 93 
 
 THE CHARGE OF CROMWELL'S IRONSIDES 
 AT MARSTON MOOR. 
 
 " Borne up, however, by a higher sentiment than glory, they 
 carried in their charge greater power, and this body of a thousand 
 horse was never beaten. When with their fearful war-cry, 
 "Religion," Cromwell hurled them on the foe, the tide of battle 
 was always turned. " — J. I. Thadly. 
 
 And now it seemed the royal scale 
 
 By Fate was destined to prevail, 
 
 But Cromwell's barbed horsemen stood 
 
 Untried, a reservation good ; 
 
 They stood with aspect stern and proud 
 
 Like some portentous thunder-cloud, 
 
 Impatient as a throughbred hound 
 
 From leash about to be unbound ; 
 
 All men of mould, selected by 
 
 A general with a soldier's eye, 
 
 By discipline, and temperance braced, 
 
 And confidence in Heaven placed, 
 
 Which lent unto their arms a power 
 
 Resistless in the battle's horn- ; 
 
 Well-trained their horses, swift and strong, 
 
 Their swords were ponderous, sharp, and long, 
 
 And where those deadly weapons fell 
 
 They like the thunderbolt would tell ; 
 
.1 I GLEANINGS OF nil. GLOAMIN. 
 
 Nowhere on European ground 
 
 Could such a squadron have been found. 
 
 The word is given ! away, away, 
 
 They rush like lions on the prey, 
 
 The birds and beasts in terror fled, 
 
 Earth groaned, and shook beneath their tread 
 
 On, on they go, and faster still, 
 
 Impetuous, irresistible. 
 
 Thus in some wide unsheltered bay 
 When tempests wake their loudest bray, 
 Foam-crested, huge, deep, dark, and strong, 
 A wall of waters sweeps along 
 For leagues impelled before the blast, 
 And still more furious, and more fast, 
 Till headlong on the trembling shore 
 It tumbles with terrific roar ; 
 Nor faster flings that surge the sand 
 Along the beach, than Cromwell's band 
 Drove back the royal troops amain, 
 Down-trodden, fugitive, and slain. 
 
 * 
 
 *$-*-^ 
 
 * 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 95 
 
 EPITAPH FOR JOHN RAMSAY, JUN., MILLER. 
 
 Born in Kilmarnock, Ayrshire, 2nd June, 1831 ; 
 
 Died there 28rd March, 1856. 
 
 Pause ! pensive passenger, a moment, 
 Here lies one that claims a tear of sympathy. 
 
 Born with the best qualities 
 
 Both of mind and body, 
 Whether for enjoyment, utility, or ornament ; 
 
 Health, strength, 
 And manly beauty were his. 
 
 A keen perception 
 Of whatever was great, good, or beautiful, 
 And an inherent nobility of nature 
 Which rendered him incapable of a mean action. 
 
 Kind, generous, 
 Affectionate, and confiding, 
 He allowed himself to become an instrument 
 
 To carry out the malignity, 
 
 And whims of a morbid-minded 
 Unprincipled, ignorant, and selfish parent, 
 Whose villainous machinations, 
 
 And idiosyncrasies 
 Had deprived him of his natural guardian ; 
 
96 GLEANINGS OF THE GLO \MIN'. 
 
 And who committed him to the charge of 
 A brutal, ami aiggardly relative . 
 Where oppression, 
 
 And the want of due sustenance 
 
 Sowed the seeds of a disease 
 
 Which carried him off in the dawn of manhood, 
 
 Blotted out of the book of existence 
 
 By the folly, and wickedness of those 
 
 Whose duty it was to foster, and protect him. 
 
 He was formed by the Creator 
 
 For a long, happy, and useful life, 
 
 And might have been 
 An estimable, and worthy member of society. 
 
 My former griefs have found in plaintive strains 
 A voice that served to mitigate then- pains, 
 But here, untold, the poignant pangs corrode, 
 For language proves unequal to the load. 
 
 -*-*-*- 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 TO MR. JOHN HARRISON, 
 
 Author of " The Laird of Restalrig's Daughter," 
 
 " Bauldy Mill," " The Smith's a Gallant 
 
 Fireman," &c. 
 
 'Tis now a period longer than the life 
 Vouchsafed to many, since our friendship first 
 Was formed, since first the classic grounds we ranged 
 Of dear old Ayrshire, conned, and quoted Burns, 
 And worshipped " Wallace Wicht;" nor were forgot 
 Our noble sires of covenanting times, 
 Whose valour, faith, and fortitude to us 
 A heritage of liberty bequeathed. 
 
 Years passed, and business called to distant lands, 
 
 And mountains rose, and rivers rolled between ; 
 
 Meantime upon the landscape of my fife 
 
 The shadows of adversity came down, 
 
 Dark, ominous, unlovely, evil tongues, 
 
 111 health, and poverty, domestic jars, 
 
 The death of relatives — both near, and dear ; 
 
 My former friends, and neighbours knew me not, 
 
 And even some to whom in better days 
 
 The helping hand I'd lent, came, looked, and on 
 
 The other side passed by ; and there were those 
 
 Still stronger bound to gratitude, and love, 
 
 I dealt them good, but evil they returned, 
 
 Compassed my ruin, o'er the wreck rejoiced, 
 
 Then to the downfallen struck the coward's blow. 
 
 H 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 There is a place, a holy, and a high. 
 
 Although in humblest homes, and there man comes 
 
 For consolation iu adversity ; 
 
 But here I found my most inveterate foe. 
 
 Tormentor, studied, and implacable. 
 
 A woman's form, a fiend's malignity. 
 
 How widely different a part was yours ! 
 My adverse fortune only seemed the bond 
 To strengthen, as the precious ore by fire 
 Is purified, through all vicissitudes 
 The good Samaritan you stood revealed. 
 
 Years since with stealthy pace again have sped, 
 And many changes brought, some sad indeed ; 
 Smart, Maxwell, Fergusson, and others,* men 
 Of worth and genius, whom, 'twas well to know, 
 Of whom it may be said the sordid world 
 Unworthy was, alas ! have gathered been 
 Into the garner of mortality. 
 
 And now upon ourselves the night descends, 
 A finger points unto the " silent land ;" 
 
 * Alexander Smart, author of " Kambling Khynies," &c. ; 
 Patrick Maxwell, editor of Miss Blamire's Poems, and author of 
 several pieces of considerable merit ; William Ferguson, author 
 of "Poems and Songs," &c. ; William Air Foster, author of the 
 "Otter Hunt," <fec. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 99 
 
 And o'er the tug and turbulence of life 
 A still, small voice of warning may be heard, 
 " Prepare to meet thy God !" but He has said 
 " Fear not !" and why forbodings dark indulge ? 
 Our all is in the hand of mercy, love, 
 And justice infinite, who knows our state, 
 Whose fiat formed us, planted in each breast 
 The hope, the love of immortality ; 
 Nor can he in the end himself belie. 
 
100 c;i.kanin«;.> in nil. ci.oamix. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM OF MY GRAND-DAUGHTER, 
 
 AGNES BROWN RAMSAY, 
 
 Who Died 12th June, 1871; Aged Nine Years. 
 
 " He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down." — Job xiv. 2. 
 
 Health, features fair, and symmetry were thine, 
 
 A goodly child, and one that promise gave 
 
 Of vigorous intellect, possessed of all 
 
 Those native, artless ways that win the heart ; 
 
 A light of love that shed its radiance o'er 
 
 That hearth where now hath set a darkness deep, 
 
 A darkness that no dawn shall dissipate. 
 
 I fondly hoped that thou would'st bear my name 
 
 When I was gone, and of a handsome race 
 
 Perhaps the mother be ; but otherwise 
 
 It ordered was. and thou hast joined the long, 
 
 Long train of kindred spirits that have passed 
 
 The precints of that dark, mysterious state ; 
 
 The ways of Heaven inexplicable are, 
 
 And it may be, indeed, must be the best 
 
 That love, and wisdom infinite ordains ; 
 
 For now thou art beyond the griefs, and cares, 
 
 The snares insidious, and trials all, 
 
 That form our portion in this sinful sphere ; 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 101 
 
 Perhaps a pure intelligence before 
 
 The throne of glory excellent ; or, by 
 
 The limpid river of eternal life, 
 
 Where angels tune their harps among the flowers 
 
 Of amaranthine loveliness, and I 
 
 May find thee one of many that shall bid 
 
 Me welcome to that land of love and joy, 
 
 Where sorrow shall, and sighing flee away. 
 
 
L02 GLE \MN'.- "i i in 
 
 THE SMUGGLER. 
 
 The barque she is safe in the bight of the bay, 
 And yonder the moon comes to pilot our way ; 
 Now then, my auld comrade, ere morn lifts her e'e 
 Afar owre the Lanrickshire muirs we maun be. 
 
 I've twa ready barkers, a weel-loaded whip, 
 That e'en through a helmet can gie the richt tip ; 
 Aud here is a blade that has nickit the crowns 
 Of some of the bauldest o' Clavers' dragoons. 
 
 King Geordie's red flunkies in Killie now lie, 
 It's said they are comin', and welcome ! say I ; 
 I'll wager we'll gi'e them some lessons o' lare, 
 To keep in remembrance the county of Ayr. 
 
 The smuggler was stalwart, the smuggler was brave ; 
 Her tail like a torrent, her mane like the wave, 
 Stood " Scran " at his elboAv, a gallant grey meere, 
 As docile's a dog, and as fleet as a deer. 
 
 He mounted, one touch, but unarmed was his heel, 
 Her sides ne'er were pierced with the barbarous steel ; 
 And away like a shaft shot beneath the young moon, 
 While after, for luck, went a show T er of auld shoon. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAJ1IN. 103 
 
 THE TARTAN OF LORNE. 
 
 Long Ayrshire's been famed, as the maist o' folks ken. 
 For leal bonny lasses, and strappin' brave men, 
 For butter and cheese, and for cattle, and corn, 
 And last, though not least, for the Tartan of Lome. 
 
 For poplins of Erin, or Spittalfields' ware. 
 Nor e'en the gay fabrics of Lyons we care ; 
 While Manchester prints we can look on wi' scorn, 
 They a' maun gie place to the Tartan of Lome. 
 
 We've the birthplace of Bruce, and our national Bard, 
 And wha of our Campbells and Neils hasna heard ? 
 And Ayrshire may now heigher still cock her horn, 
 She's got a new lift frae the Tartan of Lome. 
 
 My ain native county ! richt bauld he maun be 
 That either would sing, or say aught against thee ; 
 Lang, lang mayest thou carry thy laurels unshorn, 
 And still in the wreath shine thy Tartan of Lorne. 
 
in 1 GLEANIXGS Oil THE GLOAM1N. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A WELL-KNOWN SCEPTIC. 
 
 "The fool hath said in his heart, 'there is no God.'" — 
 Psalms xiv. 1. 
 
 He died as he had lived, in unbelief, 
 
 Hardened, impenitent, and to the grave 
 
 Descended with a lie in his right hand : 
 
 A wreck that sunk in darkness, unredeemed 
 
 By even a single ray of hopeful light, 
 
 Betwixt the worship of the Golden Calf, 
 
 And sensuality his soul was shared ; 
 
 A habit strengthening with the lapse of years. 
 
 Sin's most revolting, hopeless slavery. 
 
 We see but darkly, yet, 'tis surely well 
 
 That he no longer haunts our marts, and fairs, 
 
 And social circles, scattering the seed 
 
 Of doctrines baleful, in prolific soils 
 
 Of youth, and ignorance, and grieving much, 
 
 Men of maturer, and enlightened mind ; 
 
 But pilgrims are we, travelling through a waste 
 
 And howling wilderness, a land of death, 
 
 Of darkness, and dismay, a vale of tears ; 
 
 Our foes are fell without, and worse within, 
 
 And much we need the Hand Divine to guide 
 
 Our wayward steps, and pom- the oil and vane 
 
 Of grace into our wounds, nor aught besides 
 
 The living waters of eternal life 
 
 Can satisfy our souls, and he who seeks 
 
 His summum bonvm in the mammon power, 
 
 Or joys of sense, assuredly shall find 
 
 That lie lias built his house upon the sand. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 105 
 
 THE LAND WHENCE WE'LL NEVER RETURN. 
 
 " Death only lies between ; — a gloomy path, 
 Made yet more gloomy by our coward fears." 
 
 — Blair. 
 
 ! short, dark, and stormy has been our life's day, 
 And rugged, and steep, and perplexing the way ; 
 But now we're approaching the mystical bourne, 
 And go to the land whence we'll never return. 
 
 Still there are things beautiful, things which it may 
 Be painful to part with, to part with for aye ; 
 But Hope sings that Beauty's light brighter shall burn 
 In realms of the land whence we'll never return. 
 
 No black boding shadows of evil are there, 
 No sorrow, nor sighing, bereavement, nor care ; 
 No death, nor disease, of this weary sojourn 
 Are known in the land whence we'll never return. 
 
 There naught ever enters to hurt or destroy, 
 But all is fruition, of love, peace, and joy ; 
 Then let us our loins gird, and bid our lamps burn, 
 Prepared for the land whence we'll never return. 
 
LOG GLEANINGS OJ 
 
 TO AILSA CRAIG. 
 
 Dweller iu cloud-land, tenant of the earth, 
 Of air, and sea, all elements thou knowest, 
 And hast proved, the bolt on whose red wing 
 Destruction rides with death, a thousand times 
 Hath smitten thee, yet left still unimpaired 
 Thy strength and symmetry, or made thee but 
 More picturesque, more truly beautiful ; 
 The storm-cloud now is gathering on thy breast 
 In gloomy grandeur, dread magnificence, 
 And yet I love thee most at distance seen, 
 When in thy spirit-robes thou seemest a part 
 Of summer's evening sky. then have I thought 
 That on thy brow the hand of Heaven had writ 
 '' Eternal ;" but, no ! for thou only art 
 A thing of time, and destined thus to meet 
 The general doom, though at a longer date ; 
 The dawn shall seek thee, and the noontide hour, 
 And eve with balmy breath, with glowing cheek, 
 And dewy locks, but thou shalt not be found, 
 Nor on the earth a place have nevermore. 
 
 Girvan, October, 1871. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 107 
 
 TO THE "CUSHIE DOO." 
 
 Idol of my early days, 
 
 Come, come thou in the rays 
 
 Youthful fancy round thee threw ! 
 
 Be again my " cushie doo." 
 
 Never ! no, it cannot be ; 
 
 And the fault is all in me. 
 
 What a transport filled my breast 
 
 When I first beheld thy nest ! 
 
 Flat it was, and hard and bare ; 
 
 Two white eggs were lying there, — 
 
 Worthless in reality, 
 
 Yet a treasure great to me ; 
 
 But a treasure greater still 
 
 When the brood was fledged, with bill 
 
 Smacking, and distended breast, 
 
 Up they rose to guard their nest, 
 
 And each wilful, struggling bird 
 
 To my bonnet was transferred. 
 
 Four long miles, with cranium bare, 
 
 On I trudged then, nor did care 
 
 If it shone, or rained, or blew, 
 
 There was but one point in view ; 
 
 Stopping oft to feast my eyes 
 
 On the panting hapless prize ; 
 
L08 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Nut a single though! to spare 
 For the stricken parenl pair, 
 Making all the sylvan vale 
 Vocal with their plaintive tale. 
 Thus we are, in every stage, 
 Selfish, whether youth or age, 
 Boyhood's happy moments flown, 
 In that woodland deep, alone, 
 There I loved to sit, and be 
 Tranced with thy sad melody 
 While the hare was flitting by, 
 And the redbreast, summer-shy, 
 Started at the pheasant's cry ; 
 Then that woodland old and grand 
 Was to me a spirit-land, 
 Whence I dreams of bliss would see 
 Robed in immortality. 
 There the ivy flung its cloak 
 Richest round the aged oak ; 
 There the foxglove stateliest grew ; 
 There the wild rose freshest blew. 
 Such imagination's power 
 Was in youth's delightful hour. 
 
 I've heard in England's southern pale 
 The thrilling notes of nightingale ; 
 But in some native, long-loved scene, 
 Where memory's favourites convene, 
 'Twere sweeter, though more bleak the view. 
 To hear thy strains, dear " cushie doo." 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 109 
 
 ON READING A LECTURE ON THE LIFE 
 
 AND WRITINGS OF BURNS, BY AGRIPPA 
 
 M'GRUB, OF GRINDERHALL. 
 
 Ho ! what is this ? a something fit to set 
 
 A sexton's spade a-laughing, or might make 
 
 A tombstone caper with a coffin's lid. 
 
 Apollo is my witness ! unto none 
 
 I'll yield in admiration of the bard. 
 
 But must we on himself and genius hear 
 
 Tirades eternal, that some petty soul 
 
 May shine in the great luminary's light, — 
 
 Wretches whose lives are libels on their creeds, 
 
 Who would the carcass of their mother sell 
 
 For cat's-meat ; on whose brains a thought ne'er dawned 
 
 But what looked down the lane of sordid self ? 
 
 Most zealously they worship, it is true, 
 
 The Trinity ; but it is that of Pounds, 
 
 Shillings, and Pence, and in reality 
 
 As little care for Burns, or aught he wrote, — 
 
 As little feel its influence benign, — 
 
 As Ailsa Craig or summit of Ben-Ghoil. 
 
 But 'tis considerate, doubtless, and stands well ; 
 
 May give a precedence, perchance bring grist 
 
 Unto their mills — enthusiasm to feign, 
 
 And veneration for the illustrious dead. 
 
 But none have sent a louder bruit abroad 
 Than the toad-eaters of Lord Tournament ; 
 
1 1 ii GLEANINGS OF nil: GLOAMIN. 
 
 IIi< truckling tools, still ready at the beck, 
 
 To hang - themselves as drags upon the car 
 
 Of Progress and Reform. Expert are they 
 
 At every gathering where a chance is given, 
 
 To deal their dirty butter out in tons, 
 
 Till decency crys " Faugh ! " and even the greased 
 
 Turn up their noses at the noisome dish. 
 
 Can creatures such as they sincerely be 
 
 Admirers of the independent Burns ? 
 
 I would as soon believe that Satan could 
 
 The gospel preach, or Graham of Claverhouso 
 
 A hero proved by murdering John Brown. 
 
 Oh ! had they lived, and Burns among them come 
 Preaching his famous truth, " the rank is but 
 The guinea-stamp," they, certes would have made 
 The place too hot to hold him in a trice. 
 
 I was in old Edina at the time 
 
 The Centenary celebrated was, 
 
 And much disgusted, vexed, and scandalized 
 
 To look on men, the antipodes of all 
 
 That Burns has loved and lauded ; to the wheel 
 
 Putting their servile shoulders, joining loud 
 
 The popular acclaim ; ay, men whose wealth 
 
 And influence and energy are spent, 
 
 Against the cause for which Burns lived and sung. 
 
 And prematurely died. Their fulsome breath 
 
 Is ever ready to distend the sails 
 
 Of Fortune's favourites, and as prone to set 
 
 Their feet on trampled worth. Forsooth, their names 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. Ill 
 
 In lists of public charities may shine, 
 
 And swell the grand subscriptions of the Church ; 
 
 But who has heard of them e'er doing good 
 
 By stealth ? None, verily. They cant about 
 
 The brotherhood of man ! yet fleece the backs, 
 
 And grind the faces of the poor, nor know 
 
 Genius or worth if in an humble garb ; 
 
 On virtuous misfortune turn the back, 
 
 And grasp the hand that threw it in the dust ; 
 
 And, were it in their power, would make of all 
 
 Beneath them soulless sycophants and serfs. 
 
 On platforms they preach love, inculcate truth, 
 
 And practise malice and duplicity 
 
 Diabolus himself could not surpass, 
 
 The last in tavern, and the first in church ; 
 
 Stately and stiff with Pharisaic starch, — 
 
 Orgies, and rites devotional in turn, 
 
 Sermons, and psalms, and bacchanalian songs. 
 
 A fiery ordeal Burns was doomed to pass ; 
 
 But is at length triumphant, and now shines 
 
 A constellation of first magnitude. 
 
 Still, had some friends, so noisy now, lived when 
 
 His light was first on the horizon seen, 
 
 They would have foremost been with foulest fogs 
 
 Boeotian to have sought to quench its beams, 
 
 Given him the shoulder cold, more closely drawn 
 
 The purse's strings, and his detractors been. 
 
 Such characters the bard would from his path 
 Have spurned at once, and in his satire fierce 
 Consigned them to eternal infamy. 
 
GLEANINGS 0] nil GLOAMIN. 
 
 A DAY OF DARKNESS AND DISTRESS, 
 AND NO COMFORTER. 
 
 I know him in prosperity, 
 
 A magistrate, and he 
 Was ever known 'twixt man and man 
 
 To act with equity. 
 
 And his a goodly presence was, 
 
 His intellect was high, 
 And knowledge had unveiled her depths 
 
 Beneath his searching eye. 
 
 His sensibility was keen, 
 
 His sympathies were great ; 
 Want ne'er appealed to him and went 
 
 Unaided from his gate. 
 
 But of the sceptic school of France, 
 
 Alas ! he deeply drank, 
 And left the living well of truth, 
 
 To choose the Stygian stank. 
 
 Age came, and poverty withal, 
 
 And death had frequent been 
 Among his kindred, and his friends 
 
 Estranged he'd also soon. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN, 113 
 
 I paid a visit to my friend ; 
 
 He said, " I'm glad to find 
 There is an auld acquintance yet, 
 
 That bears me still in mind. 
 
 • The flees that in the sunshine flit, 
 
 The frost sune sweeps awa' ; 
 They kent the ' Bailie ' every ane, 
 
 But nane kens Pate ava." 
 
 Much grieved was I to see him thus, 
 
 For in his trying hour 
 I knew that he had nought to bear 
 
 Him up but human power. 
 
 I left, and wandering in the south, 
 
 A journal chanced to see, 
 In which I met a paragraph 
 
 That struck me painfully : 
 
 For there I read that my poor friend 
 
 Had died by his own hand, 
 And left an orphan family 
 
 To bear the bitter brand. 
 
1 M GLEANINGS 01 mi GLO vmi\ 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 MR. WILLIAM FERGUSON. EDINBURGH. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " POEMS AND SONGS," ETC. 
 
 ' ' Oh why has worth so short a date, 
 While villains ripen grey with time ? 
 Must thou, the noble, generous, great, 
 Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime !" 
 
 Again the grave, insatiate, has closed 
 
 Above a worthy, and a dear, dear friend, 
 
 Cut down in noon of life, with nature's gifts 
 
 Richly endowed, an ample heart was his, 
 
 That made his neighbours' wants and woes his own ; 
 
 His kin were all mankind, and still he strove 
 
 Unostentatiously to do them good. 
 
 A pioneer of progress, ever in 
 
 The van, regardless of the scoffs and sneers 
 
 Of interested, narrow-minded men ; 
 
 Of single heart and eye, despising all 
 
 The arts by Avhich too many in our day 
 
 Rise into place and power, and even tame. 
 
 Most true it was, he could not through the past 
 
 Reckon a line of titled ancestors 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GXOAMIN. 115 
 
 With coronet or crown, too often won 
 
 By deeds, or rather crimes, whose crimson hue 
 
 Perpetuates a stain on history's page : 
 
 No, but that true nobility was his, 
 
 Inherent worth, which earthly potentates 
 
 With star or garter never could confer ; 
 
 And genius too was his, the tuneful lyre 
 
 He swept, and whether grave or gay his theme, 
 
 The audience would confess a master hand. 
 
 Two other friends I formerly had had, 
 Two warm, fast friends, such as we seldom meet 
 In now-a-days ; the one had gone unto 
 His last account, the other been withdrawn 
 By business to a distant land ; and when 
 Poor Ferguson's remains descended to 
 Their final resting-place, my tears fell fast ; 
 I in that city found myself alone. 
 
 # + # 
 
 -Ms-*- 
 
 «4# 
 
1 L6 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 THE WAIL OF THE DISCONSOLATE. 
 
 ! loved and lamented, and though from this sphere 
 For ever departed, in memory still near ! 
 Yes, mind must relinquish her power to review 
 The past, when I think not, dear angels, of you. 
 
 So formed for to reap the enjoyments of life, 
 So furnished with parts to prevail in its strife, 
 And just in the dawning of manhood's glad day, 
 How saddening to think ye were summoned away ! 
 
 That natures so earnest, so generous have been 
 
 The dupes of the false, and the prey of the mean, 
 
 Of malice and ignorant avarice made 
 
 The tools, and your lives were the price that you paid ! 
 
 The voice of the comforter speaks but in vain, 
 Unwelcome, though friendship is heard in the strain, 
 And scenes though in light and in beauty arrayed 
 Seem dark and unlovely through sorrow's deep shade. 
 
 Time was when from nature sweet solace I drew, 
 And song was a source of delights ever new ; 
 But lost to the heart is their generous sway 
 Since my bonny lads have been laid in the clay. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 117 
 
 One hope still remains, but at times it appears 
 Like the vestige of life in the valley of years, 
 Or moon of the midnight, whose shadowy form 
 Is struggling and trembling in gusts of the storm. 
 
 That hope is, when time and its trials are o'er, 
 To meet on a fairer, a happier shore ; 
 But favourites of heaven are called earliest home, 
 In mercy removed from the evil to come. 
 
 O ! loved and lamented, and though from this sphere 
 For ever departed, in memory still near ! 
 Yes, mind must relinquish her power to review 
 The past, when I think not, dear angels, of you. 
 
 dfc&iNb 
 
 mm 
 
1 I 8 GLEANINGS 0] THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 ON HEARING FAMILY WORSHIP IN A 
 SHEPHERD'S SHEILLNG. 
 
 ' ' But haply in some cottage far apart, 
 May hear, well-pleased, the language of the soul, 
 And in His book of life the inmates poor enrol." 
 
 — BURNS. 
 
 'Twas on that night, the sequel of the week, 
 In waning autumn, crops had gathered been, 
 And woods were sere, the crescent moon uprose 
 From the sharp summit of an eastern hill. 
 Night's azure vault with stars resplendent shone, 
 Which called the thoughts to spirit-worlds away, 
 Beyond the range of time, of death, and sin. 
 Returning from a visit to the tower 
 Where Watt of Harden erst held lawless sway, 
 A barren moor I crossed, where not a tree 
 Nor shrub was seen to shelter from the blast. 
 Here stood a shepherd's sheiling, whence arose 
 A simple, solemn, and sweet song of praise ; 
 The days of other years, of early years, 
 In a sweet world of sunshine set, appeared, 
 Again those days of darkness and distress, 
 When the church travailed in the wilderness ; 
 And Scotland's wastes, and solitudes, and caves, 
 Were hallowed with the voice of prayer and praise. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 119 
 
 It was a baptism, one of blood and fire, 
 
 Yet purified professors of their dross, 
 
 And in the aftertime bore golden fruit. 
 
 Hence what we now have heard, and ofttimes read, 
 
 And millions yet unborn shall hear and read, 
 
 Admire, and love in Burns' deathless strains. 
 
 In England's vast cathedrals I have heard 
 
 A sea of thrilling, melting music float 
 
 Through the far-echoing, gorgeous, Gothic aisles, 
 
 That lent to glowing thoughts celestial wings ; 
 
 But still it kindled holier feelings far, 
 
 This simple psalm in shepherd's sheiling sung. 
 
120 GLEANINGS 01 THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 RICH! RICH! RICH! ok, HOOPER 
 M'CALLOUS. 
 
 "Fools make a mock at sin."— Prov. xiv, 9. 
 
 'Twas in Dunedin, on the afternoon 
 
 Of market clay, that duty called me to 
 
 A place associated strongly with 
 
 The blackest page of Scotland's history ; 
 
 For there, in evil days, the martyr took 
 
 His final farewell of terrestrial things, 
 
 And with his blood his testimony sealed ; 
 
 But God sometimes from darkness brings forth light, 
 
 And good from evil ; our forefathers sowed 
 
 The seed in tribulation, and hence we 
 
 Of conscience so much liberty enjoy. 
 
 While in my avocation I was joined 
 By one whose company I had endured 
 Ofttimes, although it ever irksome was ; 
 Our natures knew no more affinity 
 Than is betwixt the songster and the snake. 
 
 Minus a coat, in brief, in rags and dirt, 
 His toes protruding from his worn-out shoes, 
 And drunk, so drunk as scarcely capable 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 121 
 
 Of locomotion, there appeared a man, — 
 
 At least, what might, or should have been a man. 
 
 M'Callous seemed delighted, overjoyed, 
 
 Pleased, and amused beyond expression quite, 
 
 Exclaiming, " Man that's rich ! that's rich ! that's rich !" 
 
 I thought upon the hovel unto which 
 
 His tottering hmbs were bearing him, 
 
 Perhaps a starving family to meet, 
 
 And oaths and blows dispense of food instead ; 
 
 I thought upon the state the holy light 
 
 Of morn would find him in, with stomach sick, 
 
 Nerves shaken, aching head, and palate parched, 
 
 His heart transfixed with dagger of remorse, 
 
 Perhaps despair, the sequel suicide ; 
 
 And said he seemed to me an object of 
 
 Deep sympathy. M'Callous by himself 
 
 Another judging, said, " Ay, and a heap 
 
 You care for him." Now this man had received 
 
 An education liberal, and in 
 
 The city's service held official place ; 
 
 A member of the Church he was withal. 
 
 It is not mine to judge, or yet to say, 
 
 How little of Christ's spirit he possessed, 
 
 Or how unlike the apostle Paul he was ; 
 
 But sure I am, the man that could behold 
 
 What I have here attempted to describe, 
 
 And think it rich ! rich ! rich ! his was a soul 
 
 But poor ! poor ! poor indeed. 
 
 None more reveres his country's laws than I, 
 
 Yet there are times and seasons when the law 
 
122 GLEANINGS OK THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Stands in the course of justice, interrupts 
 Its exercise; for had 1 made my stick, 
 And the M 'Callous corpus intimate. 
 I should have only given him his deserts ; 
 But in reflection's glass I looked, and saw 
 " Indicted for, convicted of assault." 
 Again, there's little honour to be earned 
 By chastising that paltry thing — a coward ! 
 
 ^I& *v& *% 
 W W W 
 
 ^ 
 
 W 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 12i 
 
 A DREAM. 
 
 There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 
 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." 
 
 One night I dreamed that in a vale 
 
 Extending far and wide 
 I roamed, and full of mirth and glee, 
 
 Went Watty* by my side. 
 
 And on the left a long arcade 
 
 Of lofty trees there lay, 
 With branches densely interlaced, 
 
 Impervious to the day. 
 
 Its nether bourne in darkness closed 
 
 A veil of deepest shade, 
 And silence o'er it reigned like that 
 
 By death and ruin made. 
 
 And down that vista dark and deep, 
 " Wee Watty " ran with speed ; 
 
 I called upon him long and loud, 
 But still he gave no heed. 
 
 * A little favourite terrier. 
 
121 GLEANINGS OF THE ci.OAMIN. 
 
 And now a voice was heard to say, 
 " You call on him in vain, 
 
 For know that, Watty never will 
 From thence return again." 
 
 " I am much grieved at this," I said. 
 
 " And never thought that he 
 For aught on earth would e'er have been 
 
 Induced to part with me." 
 
 And then I heard the voice to say, 
 
 But in a sterner strain, 
 " Then know that Watty never will 
 
 From thence return again." 
 
 A few days passed, when came a note 
 
 One which I sadly read ; 
 It brought the melancholy news, 
 
 My favourite was dead. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 125 
 
 ON SEEING A PRINT OF THE DEATH-BED 
 OF CALVIN. 
 
 The Antichrist secundus thou inayest well 
 
 Be called ; for surely, save the Man of Sin, 
 
 None ever more perverted Christian truth. 
 
 God, in His love and mercy, sent it down 
 
 The image of — an emanation from — 
 
 His own perfections, ruinated man 
 
 To rescue and to renovate. But thou 
 
 Stamped thy repulsive dictum on its page, 
 
 The cause of doubt, perplexity, dismay, 
 
 To many an ardently inquiring mind ; 
 
 Schism, contention, controversies long, 
 
 And loud, and bootless, wrath and bitterness, 
 
 Of charity subversive, giving cause 
 
 For foes of truth to triumph and blaspheme. 
 
 Others, of different spirit, in disgust 
 
 Have turned away, repudiated all, 
 
 From subterfuge to subterfuge have passed, 
 
 To perish in the doubter's shoreless sea. 
 
 The baleful shadow of thy sombre creed 
 
 Dimmed the glad morning of my youthful days. 
 
 What clergymen and catechisms taught 
 
 I never dared to doubt, but such the form 
 
 My young philosophy would sometimes take, — 
 
 " 'Twere surely better we had never been !" 
 
126 GLEANINGS 0] Tin: GLOAMIN. 
 
 Thanks be to God ! at length divested of 
 My predilections educational, 
 
 I searched the sacred volume, and there found 
 A God to love and worship. To the flames 
 Thou doomed Servetus ! for the exercise 
 Of rights of conscience, and thy dreadful God 
 Is but a sterner transcript of thyself. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 127 
 
 WILLIE FIXNIE. 
 
 AN ELECTION CANTICLE. 
 
 Ye men of Xorthern Ayrshire, now 
 Don't stand and play the ninny ; 
 
 Come to the poll with heart and soul, 
 And vote for Willie Finnie. 
 
 He has nae skill the man that will 
 Seek shelter in the spinny ; 
 
 Ye'll find an oak of good old stock 
 In honest Willie Finnie. 
 
 His principles are staunch and true — 
 Xae wasp that seeks the hinny 
 
 Of place, or pensioner corrupt, 
 Is honest Willie Finnie. 
 
 Then, Xorthern Ayrshire, never deign 
 For Tory sprouts to whinny ; 
 
 But prove a steed of better breed, 
 And bear in Willie Finnie. 
 
 Their Corn Laws, their Penal Code, 
 Their Wars that left sae skinny 
 
 And lank and lean the public purse, 
 Cry—" Vote for Willie Finnie." 
 
128 
 
 mi riu: Gi.o.vMix. 
 
 And deeds that here must nameless be, 
 Which aft ha'e brought the briny 
 
 Aud het tears owre auld Scotland's cheeks, 
 Cry — " Vote for Willie Finnic." 
 
 Come, gie the Tory tool the route, 
 
 Tie to his tail a tinnie ; 
 And send him to the right about — 
 
 Make room for Willie Finnie. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 129 
 
 EPITAPH FOR TAMMAS TURNIP, ESQ. 
 
 Here lie the roots, the rind, the bulb, and stem 
 
 Of Tammas Turnip, Esquire ; in the day 
 
 Of fresh fertility, he was a plant 
 
 That on his native glebe could well be seen. 
 
 Albeit that in his planthood's early tide, 
 
 By poortith's fly he was most sorely cropped, 
 
 And grubs of that same genus eke assailed 
 
 His tender roots, but Tammas well enjoyed 
 
 The showers and sunshine, and most gratefully 
 
 He drank the dews, and thus grew up apace 
 
 In spite of all, and seedlings from his stem 
 
 Sprang many, and sank deep their healthy roots 
 
 In other soils ; but winter came at last, 
 
 With biting frost, and blanched his verdant leaves, 
 
 Yet never touched his heart, which fresh and firm 
 
 Stood to the last, nor ever knew that state, 
 
 The " fozy" termed. His roots at length gave way, 
 
 Death grubbed him up, and o'er him threw of earth 
 
 A ponderous niound, which underneath he waits 
 
 The renovation of another spring. 
 
130 GLEANINGS OF llll GLOAMIN. 
 
 Oil! THERE IS A WAY. 
 
 Ob ! there is a way, and that way it is steep, 
 But enter, and down with increased pace you keep ; 
 Tis known as the path of the drunkard by name, 
 The highway of sorrow, of sin and of shame. 
 
 And pitfalls and trap-doors unnumbered it hath. 
 That lead unto ruin, destruction, and death ; 
 Yet myriads have gone down that way in all time, 
 Of every class, creed, colour, country, and clime. 
 
 God warns from His word ; from the pulpit, the press 
 And platform, still issue appeal and address ; 
 In warning and wailing the bard gives his song, 
 The saint in his sorrow exclaims, " Lord, how long .'" 
 
 Yet down that deep vista unheeding, unthinking, 
 
 Still thousands in dream of delirium are sinking ; 
 And dreadful it is the reflection to make, 
 It is in eternity only they wake. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 131 
 
 TO MY DOG "BESSIE." 
 
 Bessie, we both are far from where we first 
 
 Beheld the light and drew the vital air ; 
 
 And dear old granny Scotland's hills, and dales, 
 
 And woods, and streams, may never see again. 
 
 Amidst a population manifold . 
 
 We dwell, and yet though on the mountain's top, 
 
 Or in the desert, we're not more alone. 
 
 To-morrow should we die, no one would reck, 
 
 And no one miss us, yet sometimes thou hast 
 
 Admirers casual ; as through the streets 
 
 We pass, I not unfrequently have heard, — 
 
 "Look at that prettly little dog !" for of 
 
 The breed thou of the handsomest art one ; 
 
 And unto one another we are much. 
 
 Thy kindly ways, and gambols so grotesque, 
 
 Might well engage the pen of Doctor Brown ;* 
 
 They serve sometimes to banish grief and care, 
 
 And bring a laughter which the heart belies ; 
 
 Thy gratitude is passing great for e'en 
 
 A trivial kindness, and my coming home 
 
 Is hailed with frantic joy. I sorry am 
 
 To say that in thee, Bessie, I have found 
 
 * Author of "Rab and his Friends." 
 
132 GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 Mure of my Maker, more of love and truth, 
 
 Than oft in Nature's masterpiece, mankind. 
 
 Grim, unprovided age and I have met, 
 
 Concomitant infirmities withal ; 
 
 A strong presentiment that want may be 
 
 Attendant, on my exit from the stage. 
 
 But, my poor Bessie, shouldst thou live to see 
 
 My last crust in the cupboard, of that same 
 
 The best, the largest portion shall be thine. 
 
 London, 1870. 
 
 (r t $t^/^: 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 133 
 
 ON VISITING THE ASSYRIAN ANTIQUITIES 
 IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 
 
 The clouds and shadows of the past hang o'er 
 
 Those dreadful days so heavily, we fail 
 
 To find their era ; still our sympathies 
 
 Are with the peoples, though remote, unknown, 
 
 Whose fate it was the victims to become 
 
 Of cruelties so horrid. Here we learn 
 
 How desperately wicked is the heart, 
 
 And to what degradation we descend 
 
 When destitute of knowledge of the truth. 
 
 Deeds that are such as fiends might shudder at 
 
 Or be ashamed of ; yet we here see men 
 
 (If with that name they may be dignified) 
 
 In depths of dark depravity so sunk, 
 
 As glory in them, — bid the sculptor's art 
 
 Transmit them to posterity extant 
 
 As trophies of renown. The adamant 
 
 Is eloquent ; we verily have here 
 
 " Sermons in stones," and learn how much the world 
 
 Indebted stands to Christianity. 
 
1 .". I GLEANIN( - 0] 
 
 THE SPIRITS OF THE DEPARTED O'ER THE 
 SLEEPING BEREAVED. 
 
 Sleep on, grieved and weary one, sweet be thy rest, 
 Thy visions a radiance from land of the blest ; 
 No spirits of darkness can ever come near 
 To sadden their glories while we're watching here. 
 
 Thy brow once so placid, so smooth, and so fair, 
 Is now dark, and furrowed with sorrow and care ; 
 But God sends afflictions to those He would win, 
 To wean them from earth and to part them from sin. 
 
 faint not, fear not ! in faith be thou strong ! 
 The road may be rugged, but now 'tis not long ; 
 Thy trust be in Him that is mighty to save, 
 "Who triumphed o'er hell, over death, and the grave. 
 
 The clay is departing, the night drawing near, 
 But lights from the city celestial appear ; 
 And there we will meet, all our chastisements gone, 
 Where death, sin, and sorrow alike are unknown. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLQAMIN. 135 
 
 A VETERAN TORY'S LAMENT. 
 
 On the result of the Election of 1868. 
 
 'Twas somewhere near to Ballochmyle, 
 The deil was met gauu down a brae, 
 
 And aye he sadly sang the while, 
 Alake ! alake ! we've lost the day. 
 
 We're vanquished north, we're vanquished south, 
 
 For a' that I could do or say, 
 By that auld hatefu' limmer Truth, 
 
 Alake ! alake ! we've lost the day. 
 
 I've laughed the working folk to see, 
 Their faces grim wi' want and wae, 
 
 While my freens lived in luxury, 
 But now, alake ! we've lost the day. 
 
 I've laughed to see his lordship's game 
 
 Eat up the crap, the farmer sent 
 Adrift for killing ane o' them, 
 
 And roupit out to pay the rent. 
 
 I've laughed to see a man strung up 
 
 For writing o' anither's name, 
 Or maybe stealing o' a tup, 
 
 Or bread to fill a hungry 
 
13<i GLEANINGS Oi I 111-: GLOAMIN. 
 
 I've laughed to see puir Papist Pal 
 Beneath the Kirk o' England grane, 
 
 It. ser'ed my cause far better that. 
 Than either Hume, Voltaire, or Paine. 
 
 To see from shrieking misery torn 
 The tithe, at point of bayonet ; 
 Rathcormaek made me cock my horn, 
 
 That scone, oh ! how can I forget ? 
 
 And 1 have sat unseen in court. 
 And chuckled with infernal glee, 
 
 To see their dernier resort. 
 
 The voters coined by perjury.* 
 
 A flunkie swear himsel' a laird, 
 That hadna got a single stane, 
 
 Nor yet o' mither yirth a yard, 
 Or coat that he could ca' his ain. 
 
 Meantime the titled instigator, f 
 To that most sapient sucking pigeon, 
 
 The public, played the demonstrator 
 On ethics, politics, religion. 
 
 * During the election of 1841 we were sojourning in a county 
 town on the border, where this was carried on to a most scan- 
 dalous extent. It Avas quite patent to the public, and must have 
 had a deteriorating moral influence. The majority of the parties 
 who had thus perjured themselves went home intoxicated. If 
 these men afterwards acted dishonestly by their employers, 
 it was only a natural, and I should almost say a necessary 
 consequence. 
 
 + A Scotch Conservative aobleman, who was once delivering 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 13' 
 
 But what me tickled best ava 
 
 Was that most glorious tax on bread ; 
 
 It made the puir man's cake sae sma' 
 And tripped up the heels of trade. 
 
 And ! how rich it was to stand 
 
 Red, reeking heaps o' carnage o'er, 
 And see the conqueror's ruthless band 
 
 Bide fetlock-deep in human gore ! 
 
 And then to see the soldier brave, 
 
 For a' his battles, marches, drills, 
 Tied up like some puir recreant slave, 
 
 And flogged till blood ran o'er his heels. 
 
 Those were the days, the glorious days! 
 
 When statesman, courtier, king and priest, 
 Could ride the nation their own ways, 
 
 Like some great stupid, patient beast. 
 
 Confound the Liberals, ane and a', 
 
 Were they but pinioned neck and heel, 
 
 And into my ain torture ha', 
 
 My certy ! I would mak' them squeal. 
 
 a lecture in a Mechanics' Institute in the west, strongly recom- 
 mended religion to the people ; he was at that period one of the 
 leading magnates of the Turf, and but a short time previous had 
 spent the Sabbath in curling on a pond in front of his own castle. 
 
138 
 
 LEANINGS "I nil ..!.,, vmin. 
 
 Would Claverhouse again come back. 
 
 I''l hunt them a' o'er bank and brae 
 But that is mnv a feckless crack, 
 
 Make! alake ! we've lost the day. 
 
 What mair he said, or whare he gaed, 
 My douce informant didna say, 
 
 But up the glen lang came the mane— 
 Alake ! alake! we've lost the day. 
 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 139 
 
 ANDREW and JAMES ; or, the CONSEQUENCES 
 OF INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 Of all the ills that underneath the sun 
 
 Assail humanity, thou art the worst, 
 
 alcohol ! Whether 'tis famine, war, 
 
 Or pestilence, what does immediately 
 
 Extinguish life is mild, is merciful, 
 
 Compared with thine. Days, months, and even years, 
 
 Thy votaries and victims must endure 
 
 Pangs worse than ever Grand Inquisitor 
 
 On heretics inflicted, or the red 
 
 Revengeful Indian on his enemy. 
 
 These torture but the body, thou the mind 
 
 And frame corporeal eke, till oft the wretch, 
 
 Driven to despair, o'erleaps the bounds of life, 
 
 And desperately braves the world eterne. 
 
 Here is a case in point. Poor Andrew comes, 
 
 A miserable, melancholy wreck. 
 
 Well nurtured was he, educated well, 
 
 His patrimony liberal, and might 
 
 Have risen to civic honours in the town ; 
 
 But the fire-fiend entrapped him in his youth, 
 
 And Ave have known him thus for twice ten years ; 
 
140 
 
 H.EANIXGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 He begs an alms, and buys a dram therewith, 
 
 And tells the donor, gratefully, it will 
 
 A momentary glimpse shed through the gloom. 
 
 James is a kind and single-hearted man ; 
 
 Ac.-,. sis him, for his welfare asks. They were 
 
 Old neighbours. James: "Where, Andrew, do you 
 
 sleep I " 
 " I sleep in hell." said Andrew with a frown. 
 James : "Andrew, dou't talk thus. I have you known 
 Long time, and sympathize with your sad state, 
 And you might be so good as tell me where 
 You sleep." Andrew: " And I have told you, sir, 
 I sleep in hell ; which way I fly is hell ; 
 Myself am hell." This closed the colloquy, 
 xVnd James stood struck as Andrew limped away. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 141 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF EARLY DAYS AT 
 GUILILAND. 
 
 And oh ! how sweet when Summer's parting day 
 Had in her ruddy glories robed the west ; 
 
 And waxing dubious was the ruin grey, 
 Or seen a giant spectre of the past ! 
 
 The balmy breeze brought ocean's roundelay — 
 A soothing vesper song of peace and rest, 
 
 So sweet, so holy, that it seemed to bear 
 
 A native burden to my grandsire's prayer. 
 
 Morn came : an angel of celestial light, 
 Diffusing fragrance, beauty, love, and joy ; 
 
 Painting might limn, and Poetry indite, 
 And all their efforts vainly would employ 
 
 To yield such visions to the mental sight 
 As wrap the fond, enthusiastic boy, 
 
 The embryo Bard, with fervid fancies teeming 
 
 A thing of hoping, trusting, loving, dreaming. 
 
 And, in the long, and darksome winter night, 
 When up the chimney went the cheering blaze, 
 
 And gathered round the hearth the circle tight, 
 While songs went round, and tales of other days ; 
 
II- GLEANINGS 01 mi. GLOAMIN. 
 
 The outward darkness only made more bright 
 
 The scene within, and served our joys to raise ; 
 And well I mind how grateful was to me 
 The tempest's music in the aged tree. 
 
 And kind, kind, single, honest hearts were there, 
 Unknown to selfishness, unkuown to guile. 
 
 Such as I never yet have found elsewhere, 
 
 Though wide my wanderings have been the while 
 
 And still through many a shade of grief and care, 
 And distance, dawns again the happy smile 
 
 Of those dear days, that still will have the power 
 
 I hope, to gild my life till latest hour. 
 
 ife Hfe m 
 W W W 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN, 143 
 
 AN INCIDENT IN A SHIPWRECK. 
 
 A ship had foundered far at sea, and night 
 Came on the waste of waters darkly down ; 
 The rack drave wildly o'er the boding moon. 
 At times a trembling solitary star appeared, 
 Which still more dismal made the scene ; 
 The wind, by fits, howled fearfully, like some 
 Grim monster roused, and ravenous for prey. 
 All in one boat the passengers and crew 
 Were crowded, and the seamen said unless 
 That lightened of her cargo she should sink. 
 This barbarous expediency soon 
 Was perpetrated : indiscriminate 
 The passengers were flung into the sea. 
 At last they seized a boy, a comely boy, 
 Whose parents both before his eyes had sunk, 
 He said, ' ; Oh, sirs, don't throw me overboard ! 
 Allow me first to say my prayers, and then 
 I will go out myself." The hand was stayed 
 Of ruffian selfishness ! Rude natures awed, 
 As the young hero knelt, and unto God 
 His soul commended, and, serenely firm, 
 Went down into the dark, unfathomed deep ! 
 
M I GLEANINGS 01 nil 
 
 MRS. JOHN MILLER, 
 
 OF EDINBURGH. 
 
 Man that is born of a woman is of few clays, and full of 
 trouble."— Job xiv. 1. 
 
 Another to the shoreless sea has gone, 
 And proved the awful mystery of death ; 
 Another liuk of life dissevered, and 
 The good removed — removed in early age 
 From haunts of living men, alas ! no more 
 To visit earth till day of final doom 
 And restitution. May the stroke to us 
 Be sanctified ! May God vouchsafe His grace 
 To bid us take our cross and follow Christ 
 Through good and evil ; and may we in all 
 The dispensations of His providence 
 Enabled be to say, " Thy will be done." 
 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 145 
 
 LINES. 
 
 Poor, friendless, among strangers thrown 
 And low with sickness laid ; 
 
 In silent watches of the night 
 To God for help I prayed. 
 
 And help came down, and health returned 
 
 With dawning of the day ; 
 Forget this great deliverance 
 
 I hope I never may. 
 
 Girvan, 12th October, 1871. 
 
 A REMINISCENCE. 
 
 The tide of half a century rolls back 
 
 Its sullen waters, and again I see 
 
 My erst preceptor of the Sabbath school, 
 
 So meek, so earnest, and so patient ; full 
 
 Of love and kindness, yet so firm withal 
 
 When duty thus directed. He had much 
 
 Of his great Master's spirit — was indeed 
 
 An Israelite in whom there was no guile ; 
 
 But ere the wonted years of human life 
 
 Had run their circuit, he was summoned hence. 
 
 His life was blameless, and his exit peace. 
 
 The late Thomas Gilchrist, of Kilmarnock. 
 
1 16 
 
 KILLIECRANKIE. 
 
 His charge on the hillside the shepherd was keeping, 
 Where murmured the brook, and the willow was weeping, 
 And Tweed by his side 'mong the fern was a-sleeping, 
 When rose the loud sounds of the battle afar. 
 
 Then thick grew the mists o'er the mountains presiding, 
 For shades of old heroes the storm were bestriding, 
 Come forth from the caves where they'd long been residing, 
 To list to the sounds of the battle afar. 
 
 And still stood the flock, struck with terror and wonder, 
 As when roars through dark heaven the red rattlin' 
 
 thunder, 
 And Tweed crept the plaid of his dear partner under, 
 And howled at the sounds of the battle afar. 
 
 'Tis gone ! War has spent the last bolt in his quiver, 
 Yet rolls down the hill his deep sanguine river, 
 And trust we the power of the Stuart for ever 
 Has ceased, with the sounds of the battle afar. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 147 
 
 THE MISPLACED. 
 
 The red round sun of winter set 
 
 Behind the- western mountains blue ; 
 The night her neighbour gloaniin met, 
 
 And they had kissed and bid adieu. 
 By Irvine's banks of faded green 
 
 I roamed with easy reckless tread ; 
 Pondering of joys of earlier days, 
 
 Away for ever — ever fled. 
 
 When, 'neath a willow grey that flung 
 
 Its shadow o'er the tumbling flood, 
 All melancholy o'er his harp 
 
 A youthful minstrel pensive stood ; 
 The bloom was faded on his cheek, 
 
 His eye, expressive, deep, and slow, 
 Was turned with strange reflecting gaze 
 
 Upon the passing stream below. 
 
 He raised his harp of rustic frame, 
 Which art to polish ne'er had striven, 
 
 Save where with withered harebells hung, 
 'Twas all as first from nature ariven. 
 
1 is GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 He eyed ii with an absent look, 
 
 He tuned the strings all one by one, 
 
 Then placed it on the ground with care, 
 And thus his plaintive tale began : — 
 
 " Ye naked forests, sad to see, 
 
 Where drowsy birds no shelter find ; 
 Ye barren, bleak, bleak mountain tops, 
 
 Long beaten by the winter wind ; 
 Ye plains no more in verdure clrest, 
 
 Ye valleys all in nuns laid, 
 Thou red swollen river raging on, 
 
 That erst in silver sweetly played. 
 
 " Ye stars that through the gloom of night 
 Emit a faint and glimmering ray, 
 That oft with feelings wild have seen 
 Along the unclouded welkin stray ; 
 Parts of great Nature's awful form, 
 Hear ye an artless bard complain, 
 And tell her in her leafless bower, 
 The burden of my humble strain. 
 
 " Say why has she into my breast 
 
 Infused that wayward, restless fire, 
 That leads to follow fancy vain, 
 
 And labour o'er the luckless lyre. 
 And why do fate's black surging waves 
 
 To quench that (lame for ever rise? 
 Why am I doomed a path to seek 
 
 Which fate has barred, which fate denies '. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 149 
 
 1 And why do e'en her simplest scenes 
 
 Bid feeling's subtle ocean swell, 
 Till raptures kindle in my soul 
 
 Unfit were angel's tongue to tell ? 
 And yet to noisome cell confined, 
 
 I gain by fits a transient taste, 
 That serves like dying sunbeam bright, 
 
 Which shows the sky with storms defaced. 
 
 ; Oh ! had some humble shed been mine, 
 
 Where mountains rear the lofty head, 
 Where torrents roar, and eagles soar, 
 
 And tempests sing a song of dread ; 
 Then had I joyous hailed the dawn, 
 
 The dewdrops glancing on the thorn ; 
 And wandering o'er the wild flowers sweet r 
 
 Have heard the hermit cushat mourn. 
 
 Or had it been my lot to range 
 
 The mighty ocean's empire wide, 
 And twine in song its wonders great, 
 
 Far dancing o'er the bounding tide ; 
 The lands where ancient bards have sung, 
 
 Where first the flowers of science blew ; 
 The sad remains of grandeur gone, 
 
 Through rapture's rising tear to view ! 
 
 ' But 'tis not so ; the morning comes, 
 And brings no joy ; and as the day 
 Wheels her swift course, my life she sees 
 In lonely languor wear away. 
 
150 GLEANINGS 01 nil. GLOAMIN. 
 
 As is the wanderer of the wave 
 
 When cast upon the thirsty sand ; 
 As is the lark in durance placed 
 By some relentless cruel hand ; — 
 
 " Yet why unmanly thus complain ? 
 
 Come, resolution ! arm my soul ; 
 Tis Heaven ordains, fret not while joy 
 
 Pervades creation as a whole. 
 But a few days, or years at most, 
 
 Till the unchained immortal mind 
 Shall mount to its eternal source, 
 
 And leave earth's sordid dust behind." 
 
 He ceased, he vanished through the night, 
 
 But echo long with silver tongue, 
 From rock, and vale, and vaulted cave, 
 
 Hymned o'er the notes he last had sung. 
 Yet oft when darkness veils the world 
 
 With contemplation's sober stride, 
 While lingering there, methinks I hear 
 
 His notes along the waters glide. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 151 
 
 ON VISITING THE LOW CHURCH OF 
 KILMARNOCK 
 
 AFTER THE LAPSE OF NEARLY FIFTY YEARS. 
 
 'Tis long, and yet the retrospect seems brief, 
 
 Since last I service heard within these walls : 
 
 'Twas on an autumn's evening, sweetly calm, 
 
 As sabbath should ; all beautifully blue 
 
 The hills appeared, and o'er the west still hung 
 
 The crimson glories of departing day. 
 
 That closing hymn still lingers in my ear ; 
 
 The leader of the choir was an adept 
 
 In his profession, never have I heard 
 
 Another who performed the part so well.* 
 
 And when that surge of music died away 
 
 In the rich twilight, what a thrill arose 
 
 Of varied feelings, exquisite, commixed, 
 
 Indefinable, but to be conceived ! 
 
 How many voices that once swelled that song 
 
 Have silenced been ! How many then in health, 
 
 Have joined the congregation of the dead ! 
 
 Few, few are left, and some with tottering steps 
 
 Stand on the confines of eternity. 
 
 Of all my father's house not one remains 
 
 To welcome back the weary wanderer. 
 
 * The late Mr Robert Templeton. 
 
GLEANINGS 01 mi. 
 
 DIOGENES JN A NEW LIGHT. 
 
 Diogenes, as most of us have heard, 
 
 Set out one day an honest man to seek, 
 
 And doubtless deemed the task an arduous ; 
 
 For though it was high noon, to aid his search 
 
 He took a lantern. What was the result 
 
 Of this adventure never has transpired, 
 
 But if the cynic sage should fated be 
 
 Again to walk the earth, he might descry 
 
 A city somewhere in the " Land o' Cakes," 
 
 Perchance from Fortha's banks not far remote, 
 
 And if he there should institute the quest 
 
 He did of old, he'd all the lanterns need 
 
 That e'er were made since days of Tubal-Cain, 
 
 And all the lamps that e'er were trimmed with oil, 
 
 Of whale, or seal, or paraffme supreme, 
 
 And all the candles, rushlights, dips, and moulds, 
 
 Were ever formed or fashioned, bought or sold, 
 
 And all the gas of Europe, from a jet 
 
 Wide as the crater of Vesuvius. 
 
 Suppose him thus equipped, and mounted on 
 
 A fiery dragon, and around his neck. 
 
 By way of handkerchief, a comet's tail, 
 
 And that from noon till night he searched, re-searched 
 
 Tlif city's circuit, it were all in vain ; 
 
 Discomfited he certainly should be. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 153 
 
 ON SEEING in the TOWER OF LONDON the 
 
 BLOCK and AXE WITH WHICH LORDS 
 
 BALMERINO, KILMARNOCK, and LOYAT, 
 
 WERE BEHEADED IN 1746. 
 
 There was a day when shuddering thousands 
 
 On those grim instruments of regal power ; 
 
 Bold Balmerino's blood that block bedewed, 
 
 Kilmarnock's too, a good, but erring man, 
 
 And Lovat's whom adversity, nor years, 
 
 Nor even death approximate, when armed 
 
 With penal terrors, could to wisdom bring. 
 
 Infatuation pitiful ! to indulge 
 
 In levity, when tottering on the verge — 
 
 The confines dark of an eternal world. 
 
 One deep dint tells with what a will, and strength, 
 
 The final stroke was given. Necessity 
 
 Inexorable is, and sometimes calls 
 
 For sacrifices such for commonweal — 
 
 So surgeons amputate gangrenous limbs. 
 
154 GLEANINGS 0] mi. 
 
 JAMIE TAIT AND THE DOCTOR. 
 
 Jamie had had a Long, and heavy bout. 
 
 Of drinking, and now paid the penalty 
 
 Which all must do who Nature's laws infringe ; 
 
 Delirium tremens led him to the verge 
 
 Of death's dark vale, and on his brain at last 
 
 Dawned reason dimly, while athwart the haze 
 
 Stalked the grim ghosts of past delinquencies. 
 
 A web of checkered vice his life had beeu. 
 
 The doctor called — a man of skill, and sense. 
 
 But partial to a joke, and, it was said, 
 
 Sometimes made one a little out of place. 
 
 Jamie : " Weel, doctor, I suppose, ye think 
 
 Me out o' danger noo ? " The doctor liked 
 
 His patient not, indeed, no one could do 
 
 That knew him thoroughly. The Doctor : " now 
 
 Just keep yourself as quietly as you can, 
 
 And we will do our best ; but, mind, henceforth 
 
 You must renounce intoxicating drinks." 
 
 Jamie : " but, Doctor, I am feared if I 
 
 Should dee the noo my soul may be — be lost." 
 
 The Doctor : " Mr Tait, upon that point 
 
 Don't give yourself the least uneasiness, 
 
 For 'tis a more impossibility 
 
 That you should lose what you have uever had." 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 155 
 
 IN MEMORIAM OF DOCTOR CONNELL. 
 
 Whether as husband, father, brother, son, 
 Friend, man of science, Christian citizen, 
 The dead we may regard, in each, in all 
 He stands pre-eminent : a mind like his 
 We but too rarely meet, transcendent worth 
 And talents brilliant happily combined. 
 From us in early life he was withdrawn, 
 But still survives in many memories, 
 An honour to the place that gave him birth ; 
 And on the page of history descends 
 A bright example to posterity.* 
 
 * Vide " The History of Kilmarnock. " 
 
 
156 GLEANINGS 01 
 
 DAFT RAB WRICHT. 
 
 DEDICATED, "WITHOUT PERMISSION, TO MR SIMON SILLABUB. 
 
 Weel, Simon, I hear ye intend to gang through 
 And see the grand City of Hilliebulloo ; 
 And try, aboon a' things, to get a gude sicht 
 0' ane o' its oddities — daft Rab Wricht. 
 
 Ye'll see him in livery gaun stabbin' about 
 Like a calf that has been for the first time thereout ; 
 But the gait's an affected ane, and is a bricht, 
 A michty achievement thinks daft Rab Wricht. 
 
 Into office he rade on the Chamberlain's back, 
 But up to his duties he was in a crack ; 
 For of trucklin', and peachin' he quite had the slicht, 
 'Twas native — inherent in daft Rab Wricht. 
 
 He's a bonny white laddie described by himsel', 
 Gauu straught unto heaven, a' his neibours to hell ; 
 A fanatic fool, wi' a gude muckle bight 
 Of rogue at the bottom, is daft Rab Wricht. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 157 
 
 EPITAPH FOR A, S., 
 
 PRINCIPAL GATEKEEPER OF THE ABATTOIR, OF THE 
 CITY OF HILLIEBULLOO. 
 
 This was a fiend enfranchised for a time, 
 
 And sent to earth for greater punishment. 
 
 Discord was his delight, and ever he 
 
 For its promotion laboured soon, and late, 
 
 In season, out of season, hot and cold, 
 
 Sunday and Saturday kept up the game ; 
 
 Nought grieved him half so much as to behold 
 
 Another's happiness, if e'er a glimpse 
 
 Of softer feeling dawned upon his mind 
 
 'Twas for a prostitute ; for gain he would 
 
 To anything have stooped, ay, for a plack 
 
 The dirtiest, deepest sinks of mammon swept ; 
 
 And sold his soul, but had not one to sell 
 
 Through life he plotted, schemed, grumbled and growled, 
 
 Fetched, carried, hatched and quarrelled, swore false oaths, 
 
 In brief, did aught and everything required 
 
 To curry favour with superiors. 
 
 Hated, detested, and despised, and scorned, 
 
 He died at last, and like his prototype, 
 
 Judas Iscariot, went to his own place. 
 
-i.i \\i\.;- 01 i in GLOAMIN. 
 
 A FLYING SHOT. 
 
 In dwells an ancient pedagogue, 
 
 A dotard, one long laid upon the shelf, 
 
 Who has an ass, a Rosinante it is 
 
 Of donkeys, this he deems a Pegasus, 
 
 And sometimes mounts the beast, and capers cuts 
 
 The most fantastical, and assanine, 
 
 Don Quixote de la Mancha of the poets. 
 
 Apollo swears should e'er he set a foot 
 
 Within the sacred precints, he will send 
 
 A shaft right through him ; still the muses think 
 
 As scavenger he might admitted be 
 
 Or curiosity, should he consent 
 
 His rubbish manufactory to close. 
 
 IDEM. 
 
 He that would one consummate humbug see, 
 Full grown, full blown, in all its glory green, 
 Ridiculous even to sublimity ; 
 A nonpareil, a perfect pattern sheen, 
 Must to Edina go, where surely he 
 Will find his wishes gratified ; I mean 
 To say, if he should hut contrive to drop 
 Upon a customer baptized John II e. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 159 
 
 DOCTOR MUCKLEJOHN. 
 
 This professional was Surgeon of Police to the City of Hillie- 
 bulloo, and the constables having found a young woman lying 
 on the street in a state of insensibility, concluded that she was 
 drunk, and took her to the office, where she was deposited 
 among the roughs with very little ceremony. On being subjected 
 to the scientific skill of Mucklejohn, she was pronounced to be 
 drunk. This happened early in the day. In the evening no 
 change having taken place in the poor girl's condition the case 
 was submitted to another surgeon, who found it to be palsy. 
 The patient was of superior religious and moral character, and 
 died, as was supposed, in consequence of the treatment which 
 she met with while in the custody of the Police. Mucklejohn 
 was afterwards very officious in the inspection of butcher-meat, 
 frequently showing more zeal than knowledge, and more regard 
 for the success of the prosecution than the ninth commandment. 
 In one instance he endeavoured to induce an official to give such 
 evidence as would have been direct perjury ; but the party here 
 attempted to be tampered with at once indignantly spurned the 
 proposition. 
 
 ON HEARING THAT DOCTOR MUCKLEJOHN HAD INSPECTED 
 THREE CARCASES OF BEEF. 
 
 Ere Mucklejohn would beef inspect, 
 He ought to know his own vocation ; 
 
 At least be able to detect 
 The palsy from intoxication. 
 
I -Ml 
 
 A FIT CONNECTION. 
 
 Jock Burgess said the i; Standard " was 
 
 A " doonricht imposition," 
 And for Kilmarnock's sake lie would 
 
 Set up an opposition. 
 
 His threat soon put the "Standard's " stai 
 
 Into a pretty tike ; 
 They took Jock into partnership, 
 
 But " like aye draws to like." 
 
 DAVID THE KING, AND NATHAN THE 
 PROPHET. 
 
 'And Nathan said unto David ' Thou art the man. ' " — 
 2 Samuel xii. 7. 
 
 If an impostor Judaism had been, 
 
 An engine of the State, contrived to keep 
 
 The crowd subordinate, the prophet would 
 
 Have, doubtless, cloaked the erring king ; but here 
 
 He held his mission from the God of Truth ; 
 
 And hence the guilty monarch was reproved 
 
 So fearlessly, emphatically too, 
 
 Compelled to sit in judgment on himself, 
 
 An<l hear the dreadful penalty annexed. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 161 
 
 ON SEEING A DILAPIDATED WEAVER'S SHOP 
 IN KILMARNOCK. 
 
 Here darkness dwells with ruin green and grey, 
 There seems a something dismal in the place ; 
 It wears a blighted, an unhallowed look, 
 But this may partly be a fancy from 
 Remembrance of its sometime history. 
 For here of yore an arrant sceptic sat, 
 Tenting his blasphemies, and scoffs, and sneers, 
 Still striving to subvert his neighbours' faith 
 And make them all as reprobate's himself. 
 
 The trying hour of sickness came at last, 
 
 The sea of life was troubled, tempest-tossed 
 
 The wretched mariner, no haven known, 
 
 No guiding star, no chart, nor compass his, 
 
 Nor helm, nor anchor, thus he drifted on, 
 
 Despair was imminent ; to God for help 
 
 He cried, that God whose word so openly, 
 
 So oft he had derided, and contemned ; 
 
 Health was vouchsafed, but perverse, unreclaimed, 
 
 Again he sank into his former state. 
 
162 GLEANINGS OF Till 
 
 ON LEAVING MY DOG BESSIE IN LONDON. 
 
 So, stem necessity's decree 
 Says, Bessie I maun part wi' thee, 
 In this cauld-hearted Babylon lea'e 
 
 Thy bonuy sel' ; 
 And 'tis a greater grief to me 
 
 Than tongue can tell. 
 
 Nae mair thou'll meet me at the door, 
 And raise thy wee bit fond uproar, 
 Or whidd sae briskly on before, 
 
 Alang the street ; 
 And seldom ha'e I seen sic four 
 
 Wee mettled feet. 
 
 The things I lo'e ha'e a' ae fate, 
 And, Bessie, thou maun gang the gate 
 Of a' the rest, and sooth I say't 
 
 Wi' heart richt sair ; 
 My bonny pet, my wee conceit, 
 
 We meet nae mair. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GL0AM1N. 163 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVID RIDPATH, 
 
 WHO WAS FOR SEVERAL YEARS A MEMBER OF THE 
 TOWN COUNCIL OF EDINBURGH. 
 
 If sheer ill-nature, want of common-sense, 
 And manners, with the very frequent use 
 Of expletives profane, and language coarse, 
 Could have conferred an immortality ; 
 Then David had not died, but been the last 
 Of Adam's race, and from his sphere beheld 
 The sun himself descend to endless night. 
 
 CALVINISM. 
 
 " Calvinism has a house, but no door." 
 
 Believing was our duty clear, 
 
 She said, but Heaven's decree 
 Made this unto the many sheer 
 
 Impossibility. 
 
 And yet they would be doomed for aye, 
 Was plain from '• scripture view ;" 
 
 Because they did not that which they 
 Had not the power to do. 
 
 ! great, and glorious mystery, 
 You must and yet you can't ; 
 
 And unto all eternity 
 
 You'll damned be if you don't. 
 
I 6 1 <.i.i: WlX'.s hi THE GLOAMIN. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF JOHN KELSO HUNTER, 
 
 B E TT E 1 1 K tf OWN BY III S N OM DE PL TIME 
 
 OF TAMMAS TURNIP, ESQ. 
 
 " A warmer heart death ne'er made cold." — Burns. 
 
 Ye carrots, beets, and parsnips a', 
 
 Ye bowkail stocks, baith grit and sma', 
 
 Ye greens defyin' frost and snaw, 
 
 Come mourn wi' me ; 
 For Tammas Turnip's noo awa', 
 
 In verity. 
 
 Dundonald's bonny banks and braes 
 May dowie hing their simmer claes, 
 For ane that scanned their every phase 
 
 Wi' lovin' e'e ; 
 And painted them, and penned their praise, 
 
 They'll nae mair see. 
 
 I stood within the Castle's pale, 
 The wind sang with a dreary wail. 
 And tauld a melancholy tale 
 
 As doun it broke 
 Through auld Craigbury's hazle veil. 
 
 And bowers of oak. 
 
 The ancient hamlet seemed to ha'e 
 A languid look, an aspect wae, 
 And in reflection's ear to say — 
 
 "I'm nae mair thine. 
 The dear Dundonald of the day 
 
 Of auld langsyne." 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 105 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF THE HERMITAGE 
 OF KIRROUCHTRIE, MLNNIGAFF. 
 
 When skies are bright, when woods and fields are dressed 
 
 In summer's garniture, when gemmed with dew 
 
 The wild flower pranks the sod, on beauty's wing 
 
 The songsters flit aud trill their happy notes 
 
 Of love and joy, and down the echoing glade 
 
 The cushat wakes her melting melody. 
 
 Methinks, 'twere sweet to linger here, and seek 
 
 The Architect Almighty in his works ; 
 
 The pure, the good, the beautiful, and leave 
 
 Corrodmo: griefs, and rankling cares behind. 
 
 EPITAPH FOR DRAPER HUG HIE. 
 
 Here Draper Hughie's xoeVs laid up 
 Among death's deadstock ware, 
 
 And just as queer a piece of goods 
 As e'er was entered there. 
 
 The cloth he sold, the rhymes he wrote, 
 
 Were much alike in body; 
 For both were in the way of trade, 
 
 And both partook of shoddy. 
 
 But what is stranger still, though quite 
 
 In keeping with the whole, 
 Was, Hughie had a shoddy heart, 
 
 And eke a shoddy soul. 
 
L-66 GLEANINGS OK THE GLOAMIK. 
 
 EPITAPH FOR THE REV. A. P. 13 K. 
 
 Here lies Banldy B k. who believed in a plack, 
 
 Though Rev. preceded his name ; 
 
 He took every shift to accomplish his drift, 
 Ay. even put a screw on his wame. 
 
 In Palestine's land he fought many a band 
 
 Of black, and of blood-thirsty faes, 
 All infidels hot, but Turks they were not. 
 
 What then ? you will ask— only fleas. 
 
 Sorely flurried one night, nearly worried outright, 
 
 He desperately jumped in the water ; 
 Where without any blows he slew all his foes, 
 
 As Samson did at his last slaughter. 
 
 ON HEARING THAT THE BLACK-FACED APE 
 
 HAD DISAPPEARED FROM THE ROYAL 
 
 ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 
 
 " Darwinism triumphant." 
 
 He's from the Gardens gone, the black-faced ape, . 
 
 The keepers sought the neighbourhood, but they 
 
 Have found him not, for he has changed his shape, 
 
 (At least so Darwin's sage disciples say,) 
 
 Aud made a protoplastical escape, 
 
 By u evolution " spirited away ; 
 
 And yet perhaps may write himself M.P. 
 
 Or back his signature with L.L.D. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 167 
 
 SONG— PRENTICE THE SPY. 
 
 Aie — " Bonnie Dundee.'" 
 
 There stands a fair city somewhere in the North, 
 Not ten thousand miles from the banks of the Forth ; 
 Where some unique characters you may descry, 
 And one of the richest is Prentice the Spy. 
 
 He once was a Coachman, but ah ! one fine morn, 
 Was caught playing false with the beans and the corn, 
 And sacked was in consequence, eastward to try 
 His fortune, we next find, went Prentice the Spy. 
 
 He blundered, and bungled, as blockheads will do, 
 Both cash of his own and his neighbour's went through, 
 And found himself steering in bankruptcy's eye, 
 Then plotting, and scheming went Prentice the Spy. 
 
 His wee silly soul's strung to such a low tone, 
 He sees but one interest, that interest's his own ; 
 For some place official he now set to ply 
 His tactics nefarious, did Prentice the Spy. 
 
 He fetched and he carried, blew hot and blew cold, 
 Wore each party's livery, from fustian to gold ; 
 Was talebearer, toadeater, cat's-paw, and lie, 
 Just all things to all men was Prentice the Spy. 
 
 But, baa, the poor trimmer made naught by the game, 
 
 Except, his deservings, an odious name; 
 
 Despised and derided, in Poverty's sty, 
 
 Is the lot, unlamented, of Prentice the Spy. 
 
I 68 '.LI \MX<i> «>!■' THE 
 
 A KAN DOM SHOT. 
 
 Odger, Bradlaugh, Dilke & Coy., 
 But who is Coy.? ay, that's the query, 
 One it is said that long ago 
 Displayed an evil genius very. 
 Yes, ere this form to earth was given 
 He had rebellion raised in Heaven. 
 
 TO A MR D. D. A COPIOUS CONTRIBUTOR OF 
 YERSE TO SOME LOCAL JOURNALS. 
 
 " Poeta nacitur non fit." 
 
 Your writing so much, sir, 
 
 Appears unto me 
 Somewhat like a monkey 
 
 When climbing a tree. 
 
 The more that he climbs, 
 
 And the higher he goes, 
 Serves only his nakedness 
 
 More to expose. 
 
 TO G. T., M.D., ABERDEEN. 
 
 When Nature formed thy little head 
 She left it minus common-sense ; 
 
 But gave thee self-esteem instead, 
 Supported well with impudence. 
 
GLEANINGS OF THE GLOAMIN. 169 
 
 TO A MR. COUSIN. 
 
 Some ask to whom you cousin are, 
 But, from your temper evil, 
 
 And pride, I readily infer 
 You're cousin to the Devil. 
 
 TO MR. G E C R, 
 
 INSPECTOR OF HACKNEY COACHES FOR THE CITY OF 
 HILLIEBULLOO. 
 
 C r, you have not yet been hanged, 
 
 But certainly will be ; 
 For Nature " gallows " on your face 
 
 Has written lesnblv. 
 
 IMPROMPTU ON READING A REVIEW IN 
 THE ATHEN^UM. 
 
 What of Scotch poets do they make 
 In London, sometimes slay 'em ; 
 
 Ay, there they have a slaughter-house, 
 Ycleped the Assenseum. 
 
NOTES 
 
 A. 
 
 As a good deal depended on their horses, expense was not 
 spared in procuring animals fitted for the purpose ; and there 
 was nothing on which the veterans delighted so much to dwell 
 as the feats of their favourite steeds. There was one bay mare 
 especially, of unrivalled speed and bottom, whose achievements 
 were long the theme of conversation ; indeed, some of them still 
 linger in the memory of "the oldest inhabitant." In a case of 
 emergency a messenger was despatched on this mare from 
 Holmes to the farm of Lauriston, upwards of two miles, which 
 he accomplished in so short a time, as almost to lead us to 
 believe that his partner in this exploit was descended from the 
 famous " Skewball." My grandfather's mare was a " trump " — 
 " a better never lifted leg." Her refusing to take the ditch, and, 
 when forced over, coming in contact with a party of soldiers, is 
 no poetical fiction. It was a famdy stock-anecdote, and among 
 the first things which I heard in the annals of smuggling. The 
 sagacity of the horse, in picking out his path in the dark, is well 
 known to all equestrians ; and which, I believe, is in a great 
 measure owing to his acute sense of smell. From my earliest 
 years I was fond of the horse, and a close observer of his habits 
 and character. His strength and speed, fortitude, docility, 
 patience, and gratitude, should render him an object of our 
 
deepest regard ; and 1 am of opinion that the law is too lenient 
 which allows the man to escape with fine or imprisonment, who 
 
 is convicted of cruelty to such a noble animal. He should get 
 a taste of the cat-o'-nine-tails. That the horse has the faculty of 
 reason I am fully convinced, aud that the difference in this point 
 betwixt him and Ins rider or driver, is only in degree. My 
 friend, the late Alexander Rodger "of poetic brief," said, that 
 when he met a Glasgow carter and his horse, he generally found 
 that the latter was the more rational of the two. 
 
 In the beginning of this century, when we were familiar with 
 all the woods, banks, and braes of the parish of Dundonald, and 
 with not a few of its parishioners, the men who had mingled in 
 the busy times of the smuggling were mostly "wede away." 
 But of the few that were left, their tales and personnel are so 
 deeply impressed on our memory, that they must remain there 
 as long as that faculty retains her seat. And we are convinced 
 from their physique (worn though they were with years and 
 infirmities), as also from the many well-authenticated stories 
 which we have heard of their feats of strength and capability of 
 enduring fatigue, that for such men we would now seek the 
 country in vain. They were brave, even to temerity, and 
 occasionally exhibited traits of a chivalrous character. Some 
 carried the " kent," a cudgel of about five feet long, generally of 
 well-seasoned oak, and loaded. Others preferred the loaded 
 whip. However, in some instances, weapons more effective 
 than either the "kent" or loaded whip were had recourse 
 to, and though much inferior to the soldiers in point of 
 equipment they were often a match for them. In those 
 days some doughty deeds were done, deeds that would have 
 done honour to a better cause ; deeds that savoured more of the 
 times of Wallace and Bruce than of the close of the eighteenth 
 century. At one time, a heavy seizure of brandy had been made 
 at Holmes, as much as to load three carts. The excise ofiicers, 
 supported by a strong body of infantry, were on their way to 
 
173 
 
 Ayr with the prize ; but a numerous party of smugglers had 
 been collected, and were lying in ambush in Rosemount Planting, 
 whence they suddenly sallied, and, taking the soldiers by 
 surprise, defeated them, broke their guns and bayonets, and 
 recaptured the brandy. A keen battle or skirmish was once 
 fought near Dundonald, on the road leading to Irvine, at a place 
 called Roddlerig, a short distance beyond the Winehouseyett, 
 near the site of the Auchans gatehouse. This contest was 
 maintained with great obstinacy on both sides for some time, 
 and several severe wounds were given. At last the defenders 
 of the revenue were forced to yield. The leader or chief of the 
 smugglers was a most formidable antagonist. Possibly, such 
 another man could not have been found in the county of Ayr, or, 
 perhaps, in broad Scotland. From the following passage it will 
 also appear that, when excited, he had something of a savage 
 temper. On this occasion he encountered an excise officer, whose 
 weapon offensive was a sword. The smuggler had only his 
 "kent," yet he soon unhorsed his foe, and, as he lay on the 
 ground, rode his horse over him, with the intention of treading 
 him to death ; but the horse leaped over the fallen man. The 
 smuggler a second time sought to accomplish his purpose, but 
 was again foiled by his generous steed. At this he was so exas- 
 perated, that he drew his "kent" and felled the noble animal, 
 which had thus acted so much superior to its master. To those 
 who are unacquainted with the subject, it may seem preposterous 
 to suppose that a band of half-armed peasantry should have been 
 able to cope with, and even overcome regularly trained and 
 disciplined men with all the advantages of proper arms and 
 accoutrements. But it is well known to have been the case, and 
 not in one single instance only. To be convinced that such 
 things are practicable and possible, we have only to turn to 
 Drumclog. Claverhouse was an able leader, whatever he might 
 be in other respects, and the corps which he commanded on that 
 ever memorable day were the first in the service, viz., the Life 
 Guards ; yet we all know how it fared with them. Of this 
 battle. Sir Walter Scott, who was no partisan of the covenanters, 
 
171 
 
 thus speaks :—" It was even much more brilliant than they durst 
 have vi atured to anticipate, for, with no great Loss oil their part, 
 they had totally route'd a regiment of picked men, commanded 
 bj the first officer in Scotland, and one whose very name had 
 long been a terror to them." — Old Mortality. 
 
 This genuine specimen of the Ayrshire peasant of last century 
 was my maternal grandfather. Pie was not a man of high 
 stature, but particularly well formed, energetic, and active. As 
 regards his strength, I need only mention, what was well known, 
 that at the age of sixty-four he carried a "lade" or sack of 
 meal, weighing "280 lbs., an English mile. After retiring from 
 the ranks of the smugglers, he farmed part of the lands of 
 Corsehill, Dreghorn, and afterwards took a lease of the farm of 
 Guililand, Dundonald, where he died in 181 7, at a very advanced 
 age. But too many of those engaged in the contraband trade 
 fell into intemperate habits ; to this my grandfather was an 
 .exception. He had an almost perfect constitution, walked in 
 the simplicity of Nature's ways, and he had his reward. !l e 
 died without any previous illness, and apparently without pain, 
 or rather fell asleep, coming " to the grave like a shock of corn 
 in its season." My grandfather had much to tell of 1745, or the 
 Hielanman's year, as he called it ; also of the rinderpest or 
 murrain of that period. He was of good family, which he never 
 forgot; his forefathers having been at one time proprietors of 
 the estate of Bourtreehill, Irvine. They were noted as men 
 of strict integrity, great strength, and length of arm ; and, to 
 distinguish them from another family of that name, were called 
 "the long-armed Fultons," which personal peculiarity has de- 
 scended to the writer of this note. Robert, the laird, and his 
 brother John were out with the Covenanters in 1079. On the 
 • lay being lost at Bothwell Brig, they fled to Irvine, and took 
 shelter in an inn, the landlord concealing them in a rack among 
 the hay. A party of the royal dragoons pursued them hot-foot, 
 tracked them to the inn, and, having found their horses, swore 
 
NOTES. 175 
 
 that the riders must be somewhere on the premises. Several 
 places were searched without success. At length, coming to the 
 rack, they thrust their swords down among the hay. The 
 Covenanters were both severely, but not mortally, wounded. 
 However, they had nerve enough to suffer in silence, and when 
 the soldiers had left the town, they got their wounds dressed, 
 and sailed for Holland. This anecdote, with others which I 
 heard at my grandfather's, tended much to form the strong 
 sympathy which I still entertain with the Covenanters. I can 
 yet remember with what indignation I first read "Old Mor- 
 tality." The work was not mine, otherwise I should certainly 
 have burned it. 
 
 D. 
 
 John M'Adam was in the service of his brother James, one of 
 the most successful men in the trade, but who died in early life, 
 leaving John a pensioner on his widow. Mrs. M'Adam rented 
 the grazing of the Castle Hill, of Dundonald, with the adjoining 
 premises of Winehouseyett, and John was appointed ranger, 
 thereof, and might have been seen limping up the hill when the 
 summer dawn was breaking, or when the day was advanced a 
 bit seated on a stone at the end of the house looking up the 
 Kilmarnock road, with his old crummie-stick betwixt his legs. 
 Nature had been liberal to John, and, both on his frame and 
 phyziognomy, had given evident tokens of manhood. He was 
 fully six feet in height, and though lame, as most of the veterans 
 were, showed that he had once stood upon a pair of well-formed 
 limbs, while in chest and shoulders he might have been a model 
 for a Hercules. For strength of arm he was also remarkable, as 
 well as for the peculiar formation of that member of the body. 
 Once when speaking to an old villager about him, he said that the 
 bone of John M Adam's arm was like that of the leg of a cart horse. 
 He had a strongly marked, expressive countenance, on which a 
 smile of sly humour was often apparent, especially when relating 
 his smuggling adventures. Once at the putting up of a hay 
 stack it was John's post to stand on a ladder and fork it to the 
 
builders. Two men who were handing it u]> to him made a 
 paction to test his strength, by giving him a forkful which was 
 as much as both of them could lift, thinking that he would not 
 be able to " send it home." But in this they ■were mistaken, for 
 John tossed it clean over his shoulder. Such a man, when well- 
 mounted, carrying a good "kent," or loaded whip, a pistol in his 
 belt, and perhaps a glass of brandy in each side of his jacket and 
 one in the middle, would care little for either soldier or exciseman. 
 But on taking a sketch from the landscape of life, we are bound 
 to give both lights and shadows, and John M'Adam, although 
 an effective man where courage, strength, and dexterity were 
 required, was not at all times a trust-worthy one, as the following 
 passage will show, it will also give rather an amusing instance of 
 how superstition and imposture may sometimes be promoted : — 
 One night John having purloined a chest of tea and a keg of 
 brandy, concealed them in a clump of whins at the foot of the 
 Warliehill. His brother on taking stock discovered the deficiency. 
 At that time there lived in Kilmarnock a famous spaewife, hight 
 Mrs. Taylor, who stood at the top of her profession, and charged 
 accordingly, her fee being £1 Is. — a pretty round sum in those 
 days. On the next morning after the goods had gone amissing, 
 Mr. M'Adam gave John a guinea, instructing him to go to 
 Kilmarnock and lay the case before Mrs. Taylor. On reaching 
 Kilmarnock John met with some of his old cronies, drank the 
 guinea, and came home "glorious, far aboon the mune," the next 
 day his brother, asked him what was the result of his visit to 
 Mrs. Taylor. John represented it as something "awfu'," what 
 he never would undertake again, saying that she took him 
 into a darksome back room, where he felt a strong smell of 
 brimstone, and heard strange and unearthly sounds, after she 
 had gaen through some of her cantrips, a great mirror appeared on 
 the wa', in front of which an eldrich-looking light was burning, 
 something like a corpse-candle that he had heard his grand- 
 mother describe, and by the aid of this infernal taper he saw a 
 transcript of Dundonald Hills. Mrs Taylor now pointed 
 nificantly to a clump of whins at the foot of the Warliehill. At 
 
17' 
 
 this point, said John, I clean lost consciousness ; but I'll wager 
 should you gang to that place, that ye will find the "guids." 
 Mr M'Adam lost no time in seeking the place indicated, and sure 
 enough the "guids " were there, and many were the encomiums 
 bestowed on Mrs Taylor. This story got wind, and like other 
 stories lost nothing on the way ; the spaewife was set down as an 
 oracle, and, although she lost that guinea, it was the means of 
 making many a "goose lay golden eggs." 
 
 E. 
 
 Sergeant Charles Ewart, of the 2nd Royal N.B. Dragoons, 
 or Scots Greys, who took an eagle at Waterloo, was a native 
 of Kilmarnock. In 1842 I met him at Davy Hulme, near 
 Manchester, spent the afternoon and took tea with him and 
 Mrs Ewart He then ranked as an ensign of the 5th Royal 
 Veteran Battalion, was seventy-three years of age, and in height 
 I should say at least six feet three. Mr Ewart was a man of 
 large bony frame — one of those who even in youth would have 
 no superfluous flesh about him, all nerve and sinew ; in short, 
 was the remains of a once very powerful man, and, being 
 "Master of Fence " to the regiment, would be a foe that neither 
 lancer, guard, nor cuirassier would have much chance with — 
 
 " Clap in his walie nieve a blade, 
 
 He'll mak' it whissle ; 
 An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned 
 Like taps o' thrissle." 
 
 He spoke of Waterloo, but feelingly and modestly, and seemed 
 not much inclined to fight his battles over again. One incident 
 related was rather amusing. On entering Brussels after the 
 engagement, he met Mrs Ewart, who saluted the horse first, by 
 throwing her arms round its neck. This piqued the sergeant a 
 little, who exclaimed, with a strong expletive, " It seems, 
 Maggie, that ye think mair o' the horse than ye do o' me." 
 Mr Ewart informed me that he was born at Waterside, Kil- 
 N 
 
17'- SOTES. 
 
 inarnock, and bred a barber. " But, said he, " bhe b] 
 didna suit me at a' ; I stood ower heigh aboon the folks' heads." 
 A tVw days after, J met Mr Ewart again in .Manchester. He 
 asked ine when I was coming down to see him. I said, " I will 
 take the boat and be down some day soon." Mr Ewart— "If 
 you need a boat to come to Davy Hulme, ye're not o' the richt 
 Ayrshire breed." The contest for the eagle has been so often 
 described, and by abler pens than mine, that I shall thus leave it 
 "alone in its glory." But there is another episode of Waterloo 
 with which Sergeant Ewart was connected, and which I would 
 beg to relate, chiefly as an erroneous version of it has been given 
 by Air James Paterson in his autobiography. After capturing 
 the eagle Sergeant Ewart was ordered to the rear with his 
 trophy, and while standing there he observed two officers, a 
 French and British, engaged in single combat. The Briton 
 mastered his antagonist's sword, and gave him his life, when 
 the Frenchman drew a pistol and shot him. Sergeant Ewart 
 immediately rode up and cut the dastard down. 
 
 1766. Mungo Campbell was appointed Excise Officer at Salt- 
 coats, including Ardrossan, at this date, and continued there till 
 Lord Eglinton was shot, 1769 — 24th October. — Trial of Mungo 
 Campbell. 
 
 1769. July 3. Mr Campbell had information that some 
 smuggled goods wei-e to be landed at Castlecraigs, [rocks south 
 of the Castle now removed to make the harbour,] a noted haunt 
 of the smugglers. John Brown, tide waiter, and Jas. M 'Donald, 
 salt officer, accompanied him early next morning, and found a 
 favourite servant of Lord Eglinton's driving a horse and cart 
 towards Parkhouse, loaded with some casks containing 80 gallons 
 rum. Seized the rum, and horse and cart, which they took to 
 Irvine. The horse and cart, supposed to belong to Lord Eglinton, 
 was returned.— Trial of Mungo ( 'ampfo 11. 
 
 1769. October 24. Mungo Campbell set out from Saltcoats 
 
NOTES. 179 
 
 about 10 a.m., with his gun, and accompanied by Mr Brown, 
 above mentioned, for the double purpose of having a shot [on the 
 lands of Montfod, where he had liberty from Dr. Hunter, the then 
 proprietor,] and to examine several places, the known haunts of 
 smugglers. Having searched the bank for a woodcock without 
 success, they went to the high ground marked " I " on the plan 
 accompanying the Trial. [This high ground we may state is 
 known by the name of Caff Hill, and is west of Montfod House.] 
 The ground at letter "I" is high, commanding a view of the shore, 
 particularly the spots called Castlecraigs, Horse Isle, and foot 
 of Montfod Burn, to which smugglers resort. Perceiving no 
 smugglers under cover of the Horse Island, where such were in 
 use to lye, they returned by the foot of Montfod Burn, a common 
 haunt of smugglers, and crossed by a short cut a neck of marshy 
 ground, not inclosed, near Newhouse [Burnfoot], which to them 
 was known to be a hiding place for smuggled goods, and thus 
 entering upon the lands leading to Castlecraigs, the most remark- 
 able place of all for smuggling. — Trial of Mungo Campbell. 
 
 Craigbury Bank, a precipice forming the background of 
 Dundonald Castle, in a view from the east. It is skirted by a 
 fine old natural wood, which had once some strong attractions 
 for the lover of scenic beauty. The oak of centuries stood there, 
 richly covered with ivy, which formed a secure retreat for the 
 cushat, whose sweet wailings were often heard to echo through 
 the grove. It was a preserve for game, and its well-protected 
 tenants were ever and anon making themselves heard and seen. 
 Birds of song were also numerous, and the stately foxglove and 
 other wild flowers grew there in the greatest luxuriance ; while 
 the grey ruin, with its legend of the past, threw a solemn 
 grandeur over all. The axe of the spoiler has of late years been 
 busy in Craigbury Bank, and it is now sadly shorn of its ancient 
 honours. 
 
L8U 
 
 II. 
 
 •• Pilniore Mount," an extensive tract of old woodland on th< 
 margin of the farm of Guililand. It was also a preserve, and 
 well stocked with game and other representatives of the vai 
 feathered tribe3. No sweeter or lonelier spot could the young 
 enthusiast have found to hold his communings with things 
 unseen. There was something so awfulty solemn in its gloamin 
 hour, that 1 have said, '• Surely the spirits of the dead arc here." 
 
 ' ' And there was the woodland, so deep and so lone, 
 "Where ofttimes indulging day-dreams I had gone, 
 Unconscious how fleetly the moments had fled, 
 Till round me the shadows of twilight were spread. " 
 
 The Gothic axe has also been here, and the dear old trees which 
 had so long been a shelter to bird and beast, shed fragrance and 
 beauty o'er the landscape, basked in the sunshine, and wrestled 
 with the storm, live now but in painful remembrance. 
 
 I. 
 
 John Urie was, possibly, one of the most expert in the use of 
 his weapons of all the men who were engaged in the contraband 
 trade of that time. In his latter years he resided in Loans, and, 
 when far advanced in life, sometimes to the great amusement of 
 his friends and neighbours, 
 
 " The old man would shake his years away. 
 And act his young encounters." 
 
 John, however, when roused a bit, like some of his comrades, 
 showed a little of the "rough." Once at a rencounter in the 
 vicinity of Dundonald, he got his eye on an excise officer who 
 had once crossed his path, and winding the thong of the loaded 
 whip round his arm he charged the exciseman, brought him to 
 the ground, and then rode over him. 
 
181 
 
 Alexander Bryson was one of the elite of the smugglers, strong, 
 resolute, and an excellent horseman. As regards fear he had as 
 little of that as a thoroughbred bull-dog, and sometimes shewed 
 a spirit that might be termed fool-hardy, of which the following 
 is an instance : — One night he set out alone with a couple of 
 kegs, but the revenue officers having been apprised of it, two of 
 them were lying in wait for him, and throwing themselves across 
 the road, they drew their swords and ordered him ' ' to stand and 
 deliver." But Bryson did not understand this, it did not "suit 
 his stomach at all," so he spurred his horse and attacked them 
 with the "kent." The issue of such a contest may be easily 
 conceived. Bryson was disabled by a wound in the right arm ; 
 but not till he had hurt both of his antagonists severely. He 
 said, " if it hadna been for that confoonded nick, he would have 
 pinned them baith." He once accompanied a friend home from 
 Glasgow who was carrying a heavy sum of money, and afraid 
 that he might be robbed, as several depredations had taken 
 place in the neighbourhood. Coming to that part of the road 
 where they were most likely to be "stopped," four men were 
 seen loitering in the distance. " Yonder they are," said Bryson, 
 and drawing a heavy stake from the hedge, he cried, ' ' Come on, 
 two of them are dead men at anyrate. " Whoever the parties 
 were they disappeared, Bryson's friend maintaining that they 
 had smelt the auld smuggler, 
 
 Alexander Bryson was a native of Eaglesham, where he closed 
 a long and eventful life. In his latter years he was very lame, 
 and rather of a cynical character, garrulous on everything con- 
 nected with the smuggling ; but especially the merits of his 
 matchless black horse. A short time previous to his death, and 
 when he was so lame as to require the aid of two sticks in 
 walking, he was talking of the smuggler's Waterloo, the battle 
 of the Roddlerig, when he became so excited that he completely 
 forgot all his infirmities, and jumping off the seat, fell on the floor, 
 from which he could not rise without assistance ; possibly one of 
 the most striking instances of the spirit triumphing over the flesh. 
 
LS2 NOTES. 
 
 L. 
 
 John Leea was a smuggler rough and ready, one who neither 
 feared lire nor water, and was occasionally selected when a piece 
 of sharp service was required. John was once in a skirmish at 
 Balsaggart Moss, Kirkmichael. Both sides mustered equal. It 
 was man to man, and a hard struggle for a short time, but the 
 Government party were ultimately routed. John's antagonist 
 was a sergeant, whom he disarmed of a line silver-hilted sword, 
 which spoil he concealed by thrusting it perpendicularly into the 
 soil ; but it was so well hidden that he could not find it again. 
 The pistols aud loaded whip of this old opponent of the excise 
 laAvs are still in the custody of his nephew, Mr David Lees, 
 residing at Drybridge, Dundonald, wdio is well posted up in the 
 stirring and eventful times of the contraband trade of the 
 West, or Laigh Lan'. The handle of this whip is strong, and 
 heavily loaded, measuring three feet two inches in length, and 
 fully an inch in diameter at the butt-end. When used the thong 
 was wound round the arm, and taking into account the spring of 
 the weapon, and movement of the horse, it would be a very 
 deadly one ; I should say an article fit to fell an ox. 
 
 M. 
 
 Tam Fttllarton. — On one occasion a smuggling party, of 
 which Tam was a member, had come from the coast of Troon 
 through a defile in Dundonald hills, leading by the bottom of 
 the Awt or Aut, now forming a fine hanging wood of most 
 picturesque appearance. They were about to emerge on the 
 high road, within a short distance of the village, when they 
 perceived a detachment of dragoons ready to intercept them. 
 Tam was a man of great bodily strength, courage, and dexterity, 
 and, from this incident it would appear, not deficient in general- 
 ship. He requested his comrades to take charge of his horse 
 and retrace their road, while, he said, he " would taigle the red 
 anes a wee, till they got out of danger." Placing himself behind 
 
NOTES. 183 
 
 an uncemented stone wall, he hurled huge fragments of rock with 
 such force and precision, that not one of the soldiers would 
 venture forward. Tam never slackened fire till such time as he 
 thought his comrades were safe, when, with a shout of triumph, 
 he disappeared in the bush. The soldiers were unacquainted 
 with the tract, and, not relishing Tarn's adamantine artillery, 
 they preferred to take the turnpike road, and by the time that 
 they had reached the coast the smugglers were oiit of their 
 power. Tam was afterwards known as " the man who threw a 
 stane dyke at the 
 
 N. 
 
 Sir Fergus de Barclay, commonly called " The Deil o' Ardros- 
 san," was famed for hi3 breed of horses and success on the 
 Turf, which was vulgarly attributed to the power of an enchanted 
 bridle which he received on forming a compact with the devil. 
 The contests and achievements of some of the favourites of Sir 
 Fergus's stud were much talked of throtighout the country, and 
 in course of time became invested with the marvellous. This 
 infernal compact was ultimately broken, and the magic bridle 
 given to another. Henceforth Sir Fergus was defeated in all 
 his matches, and his pet grey mare, Miss Sportsly, disgracefully 
 distanced ; while domestic misfortune darkened the close of his 
 life. Thus we see that in former times the devil rewarded his 
 servants much in the same way that he does in ours. Indeed, 
 I believe they have had a kindred fortune from Cain downwards. 
 
 The smugglers frequently showed considerable presence of 
 mind, and were very fertile in expedients and stratagems in 
 cases of exigency, of which many instances might be given. 
 Most of their operations were conducted under the cloud of 
 night. However, a small party were one da}- on the road, with 
 
184 
 
 a few casks of brandy in a cart, when, on Looking behind them, 
 they perceived bhat they were followed by their Legal foes. I-Vw 
 or none of the horses of that period were trained to work with- 
 out what were termed "blinders,'' and when, by accident or 
 otherwise, this part of the harness was removed while the horse 
 was in the cart, he would immediately run off. The horse in 
 question was, like most of them in the service, a spirited and 
 powerful animal, The smugglers turned his head homewards 
 and took off the blinders, when he laid his ears on his neck and 
 set out at full gallop, and by the time that he reached the excise 
 officers was tearing on at such a rate, that they were glad to 
 give him a wide berth. The horse went straight home and took 
 all the brandy safely there, which was soon lodged in one of 
 Lowrie Weir's private cellars, the entrances to which were some- 
 times so artfully contrived as to baffle the best of the revenue 
 officers. On this occasion they were conrpletely defeated ; the 
 horse and cart they found, but could not come by the aqua vita.', 
 nor bring any direct charge against the proprietor. Lawrence — 
 or Lowrie Weir, as he was familiarly called — was most ingenious 
 in constructing those places of concealment, some of which might 
 possibly yet be found in the parishes of Dundonald or Symington. 
 The Charter-stone of the Lepers' House, which was founded 
 by King Robert Bruce at King's Ease, Prestwick, Ayrshire, was 
 a blue block weighing 140 lbs., of the form of a sheep's kidney. 
 and exceedingly smooth, which, with its peculiar shape, made 
 the lifting of it a difficult task. Indeed, there was only one way 
 of accomplishing this, which was to place the protuberant side 
 of the stone uppermost, and clasp the hands in the hollow. 
 Being able to lift the charter-stone had time out of mind been 
 reckoned a test of manhood, and parties often met there for that 
 purpose, — 
 
 "The young contending as the old surveyed." 
 
 A troop of smugglers was at one time passing that way, and 
 li.i\ ing got quit of their stock in trade, and in no dread of either 
 "red-coats" or "gangers,'' they took to lifting the charter- 
 
NOTES. 185 
 
 stone, when one of them surprised his comrades by laying it on 
 the horse's pillion. Who this Samson was my informant did not 
 say ; but, owing to the source from which it was derived, I 
 have no doubt of its authenticity. This stone has been built 
 into the wall of the churchyard, where it is still shown to the 
 curious in souvenirs, and relics. 
 
 James M'Adam. — It has often been said that " there are black 
 sheep in every flock," and there were also some of that hue among 
 the smugglers of the west, and things were sometimes done 
 which the majority were sorry for and ashamed of ; but that they 
 were capable of acts of generosity, even to their enemies, is known 
 to all who are conversant with their history, of which, perhaps, 
 the following instance may suffice : — At that time there was not 
 a bridge across the Irvine, at Old Rome ; it was commonly called 
 "Rome Ford." One night a party of smugglers came there in 
 hot haste — the river was much swollen, and, by some, thought 
 to be dangerous ; but the myrmidons of the law were hanging on 
 their rear, and they had either to ford or fight. They chose the 
 former, thinking, from the state of the river, that the other party 
 would not attempt it. The smugglers got all safely over — al- 
 though it was a tight tie with them — and scarcely had they reached 
 terra firma when the supporters of the revenue arrived at the 
 opposite bank. One of the excise-officers attempted to take the 
 water, but, a smuggler (Mr. James M'Adam), endeavoured to 
 dissuade him, telling him what they had found it, and that, in all 
 probability, he would lose his life. However, in went the 
 exciseman, and was carried down by the current. When Mr. 
 M'Adam saw this, he plunged in, but by the time that he over- 
 took him, the other had turned the bend of the river, and was 
 nearly opposite what is termed ' ' the icehouse, " on Fairlie grounds, 
 and doubtless would have soon sunk, when Mr. M'Adam got 
 hold of his bridle-reins, and brought him ashore, and, we may 
 
186 
 
 suppose, on that side of the river that was safest for himself and 
 his comrades. Thus Mr. M'Adam saved a man's life who was 
 
 anything but a friend, and that at the imminent risk of his own. 
 
 Smugglers. — "Smugglers and their adherents were — though 
 a careless and dangerous set — men of spunk, and spirit, and 
 power, both of mind and body ; nor was there anything the least 
 degrading in an ardent, impassioned, and imaginative youth 
 becoming for a time too much attached to such daring and ad- 
 venturous, and even interesting characters. They had all a fine, 
 strong, poetical smell of the sea, mingled to precisely the proper 
 pitch with that of Bordeaux brandy. As a poet Burns must have 
 been much the better of such temporary associates ; and as 
 a man, let us hope — notwithstanding Gilbert's fears — not much 
 the worse." — Revieio o/'Lockhart's Life of Burns — Blackwood's 
 Magazine, May, 1828. 
 
 At that period in which the smuggling was carried on in the 
 west, it was regarded in a very different light to what it is in 
 our day. By many, the excise laws were considered unjust and 
 tyrannical, and that it was a duty and an achievement to evade 
 them. Even magistrates were known to have had a share in the 
 trade ; and some of the first men in the county, in point of rank 
 and property, were purchasers of the goods. All those who 
 entered the service had an oath administered to them by their 
 employers. 
 
 In conclusion, I would beg to say it is matter of deep regret 
 that ever the smuggling trade found a footing amongst us ; a 
 rapid declension of morals was the consequence, to which some 
 of the session books " of that period bear ample testimony. 
 Indeed, the blight was perceptible long after the last lugger had 
 left our shores. Moral evil once perpetrated, who can say when 
 its baleful seed may cease to germinate? Perhaps only at the 
 day of judgment. 
 
187 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE CUSTOM HOUSE RECORDS 
 OP IRVINE. 
 
 The following extracts -Rail serve in some measure to show the 
 extent of the contraband trade of that period, as we'l as the 
 spirit in which it was carried on : — 
 
 October 14th, 1727. Officers deforced, and severely beaten 
 between Irvine and Kilmarnock. 
 
 November 7th, 1728. Custom House attempted to be robbed. 
 
 November 10th, 1730. A troop of dragoons quartered in Kil- 
 marnock. 
 
 July 9th, 1733. Custom House broken open, and a consider- 
 able quantity of brandy and rum, tea, &c, carried away by a 
 party of about 40 to 50 armed men, supposed from Beith. 
 
 September 12th, 1733. 12 casks of brandy seized in one of 
 the present magistrate's houses. 
 
 Same date, Custom House attacked by a mob of about 50 men 
 armed with guns. 
 
 May 26th, 1764. Report that smuggling has so far increased 
 that goods to the amount of £20,000 have been brought into 
 the precincts of Irvine within the last twelve months, notwith- 
 standing the King's cruisers, and the land officers, &c. 
 
 October 6th, 1764. An Isle-of-Man boat with spirits all 
 landed, and taken into the country by 100 men mounted on 
 horses, and who put the officers to defiance. 
 
I Ictober 19th, 1764. L50 carts and horse loads of spirits, tea, 
 &c, landed. Only four casks got by the officers, the rest all 
 conveyed away by cadgers, and carriers, supposed to be from 
 Glasgow, and the country adjoining. A cutter to be placed at 
 Troon, and never to leave the station. 
 
 December Sth, 1768. A party of smugglers, with casks under 
 them, crossed the bridge at Irvine (the river being flooded), shots 
 interchanged, two of the smugglers seized, in prison. 
 
 February 21st, 1769. A A^essel arrived from Dublin. Officers 
 placed on board, but during the night a party of twenty boarded 
 the vessel, tied the officers, and carried off a quantity of goods 
 concealed on board. 
 
 October 4th, 1770. Within these fourteen or twenty days 
 there has been enormous smuggling carried on at Troon, and 
 along the coast. A cutter is again requested, and a force of 
 military. 
 
 September 19th, 1771. Report that smuggling is still carried 
 on at Troon, and the smugglers and their accomplices (who are 
 numerous) are become more and more insolent, and audacious. 
 Three officers severely beaten. Beg military to be sent. 
 
 January 17th, 1775. Report vessels loading at Dunkirk with 
 tea for Troon and Ladyburn. 
 
 April 4th, 1775. Report vessel loaded at Dunkirk with a 
 
 valuable cargo — chiefly tea, with two young men named 
 
 and , from neighbourhood of Troon, on board. 
 
 April 21st, 1775. Officers again deforced and beaten.' 
 
 December 31st, 1777. A cargo run at Troon. 
 
 duly 1st, 1778. Two cargoes run at Troon. 
 
 • I unc 5th, 1781. An English cutter, called the Thunderer, 
 
 v, itli 20 guns, and 70 men, having and onboard, ea 
 
 pected to land her cargo at Ladyburn. 
 
189 
 
 November 20th, 1783. Report a smuggling vessel had run her 
 cargo at Troon, discharged before sunrise. Officers saw country 
 people with horse and carts carrying ballast to her, but durst not 
 approach them. Application for dragoons. 
 
 August 1st, 1786. Collector and Comptroller to send to the 
 Board in Edinburgh the quantity of spirits supposed to have 
 been fraudulently landed in the district, in the year, from the 1st 
 August, 1785, to 1st August, 1786. They estimate such at Troon 
 to have been 15,000 gallons of brandy, said to have been sold for 
 5s. 6d. per gallon, and the supposed profit 2s. per gallon. 
 
KILMARNOCK : 
 PRINTED BY JAMES M'KIE, 2 KING STREET. 
 
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 The following Opinions of the Press on the Literary merits of 
 the Author are respectfully submitted to the Public : — 
 
 " ' Woodnotes of a Wanderer,' by J. Ramsay, Kilmarnock, is 
 a really spirited and clever volume of poems, written by a self- 
 taught individual." — Rev. George Gilfillan, in "Hogg's In- 
 structor," March, 1S59. 
 
 ' ' Mr Ramsay's muse, unlike that of many of our minor poets, 
 is bold and versatile. The descriptive, the pathetic, the humor- 
 ous, and the satiricad, flow in turns from his pen ; and in thought 
 and expression he is often forcible. . . . Several of Mr 
 Ramsay's smaller poems also display the characteristics of a 
 vigorous, poetic mind." — " History of Kilmarnock," by A. M'Kay, 
 published in 1S58. 
 
 ' ' Mr. Ramsay's volume may take an honourable place on the 
 library shelves, and bear the jostling of Robert Nicholl and 
 William Thorn fearlessly. We earnestly hope that the gifted 
 author will reap some substantial every-day wheat from his fine 
 show of Parnassian flowers, for he richly merits a ray or two 
 from the sunny side of Fortune's face." — Eliza Cook's Journal, 
 1852. 
 
 ' ' ' Eglinton Park Meeting, ' the leading poem in the second 
 edition, is among the latest of his writings ; and if we may judge 
 from the strong poetical vein pervading it, his genius appears 
 only to require cultivation to undertake a more daring flight." — 
 From " The Contemporaries of Bums and the more Recent Poets 
 of Ayrshire." 
 
Iv2 OPINIONS "I 1IIK PRESS. 
 
 "The 'Address bo Dundonald Castle,' and 'Musings <m the 
 Clyde,' are poems of a high order, and would of themselves have 
 entitled Mr. Ramsay to the poetic wreath." — Kelso Chronicle, 
 .'.'f/lt November, 1865. 
 
 "In ' Eglinton Park Meeting' we have not only felicity of 
 description, poetic appreciation of nature, and a keen sense of 
 the incongruous, but a free use of sarcasm, and that peculiarly 
 bitter and slashing talent of denunciation which is one of the 
 most prominent features of his writings. We are fond of the 
 line bold sentiment of the 'Musings on the Clyde,' which often 
 concentrates itself in stanzas both vigorous and keen." — Dum- 
 friesshin and Galloway Herald, 18th May, 1S66. 
 
 "Our extracts will show that Mr. Rainsay is a true poet of 
 no mean calibre ; that when he attempts a high flight he can 
 sustain himself without fear, and when he attempts a lowly 
 subject, he can treat it fitly without becoming ridiculous." — 
 Ayrshire Express, 2nd June, 1866. 
 
 "The volume before us gives undoubted evidence of true 
 poetic genius." — London Scotsman, 1.1th March, 1869. 
 
 "It is rare to find a poet of so much versatility. Nothing 
 comes wrong to him — gifted alike in the humorous, the grave, 
 the satirical, and the political. As a contrast to the rich vein of 
 humour in 'The Old Smuggling Days,' we quote from 'The 
 Vision,' a poem of very high merit, whether for originality, 
 breadth of thought, or strong religious feeling." — Ayr Advertiser, 
 29th September, 1870. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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