The National Register.
London, England, 1811-02-03 00:00:00

7a

THE NATIONAL RrGisTRR

it suits the sterling prophetic lines which precedes it. The Poet -
then breaks up like the rising sun, which he describes to lighten,
and warm as he goes. After soaring 418 three.
°verses, dictated -
by the paroxysm of inspiration, he looks down and sees that he
wilt out-soar the reach of criticisms and get beyond.the concep-
tion of mortal thoughtsso 'Plump down be drops, angry it
would seem to be chastened 14 earthly opinii,n, for he archly
describes the good people of 4;ttiniTh. fries !pending their tattered
raiment and tacking together the fragments of their riven hose.
This must be the Paces art, for be ,knOws the plain Presbyte-
rian townsmen of Dumfries hold'veracity dear, and their reli-
pious reatittsde would scruple at being arrayed in the silver and
gold tasseled putt of heathenish poesie.
But the chasteness of his muse seems to be alarmed at the
rent breeches of his gathering townsmen; the Poet's heart is
touched too with the delineation he has given, and in a few
moments they are robed, not in the sunshiny dimel of poetic
weaving, but in good broadcloth apparel, " so trim and gay."
This variation in the Poet I call one of those master-strokes of

poetic skill which. the reader will find are pretty frequent. He
eonurtits trespass against historic truths, merely to fly low
enough for our prose-conceiving minds to reach him. The
design of the Poem now opens by describing the order Mid
warlike array of his motley townsmen. Next to the burning
Sun of Heaven, himself, marches "James M'Noe," .the town
drummer;--,lamas, if we may credit tradition, had a goodly
rase, avid red as a burning ploughshare. He is here brought in
with much propriety, flaming at their head like the pillar of fire
before the seed of Israel. When he beats his drum, children
gotten and ungotten feel their hearts uprousing at the sound—
forth leap the trades, rushing like cattle into line at the sound
of music. On all sides pour along the peasantry, anxious to be.
hold the dekntention of these greasy children of the Corpora.
tons. Much has Homer been praised for the muster-roll of his
Trey-snbduing Greeks. This has made critics believe he was
Serjeant-Major to Agamemnon—but his review seems the lan-
guage of a puppet-show-man, when compared to the catalogue
of " John' Mayne." And, let Mt say it, Achille3, who crept
off Trojan's heads like a mower of thistles, would have turned
his spear-staff into a shepherd's crook, had he bt.!.eld the sturdy
convener of the Poet's townsmen ;--figure to yourselves a
brawny blacksmith, starting like a Cyclops from his fiery den,
to marshal his grimy complexioned craftsmen ; behold his
many-aproned followers moving behind him, with the rusty
iron weapons of feudal warfare dangling over their shoulders.—
But, 0! how can I describe the brawny barelegged nymphs of
Nithsdale and Galloway, stretching their white arms from their
plaids, and waving back their curling uncombed locks from their
blue or hazel eyes. 0 John Mayne thou seeme6t to have held
acquaintance with Heaven, when woman's heart lay fashioning
in its hands !

Canto Second opent•with the craftsmen's march to their min-
strelsy, of squeaking fie.dles and snuffling bagpipes. 0 Brown,
/knee, and Dingwall—pawn your fiddles, and pledge your
bagpipes—drink, drink, your ftrne is now secured!
In the Third Canto the Poetrkes like Milton's Satan, " up-
springing like a prainid of fire!" He sheds isroud insuffirable
light, making the darkness of other Poets become more visible,
Purnatnik. kerns belor him zia*.niole:hill; and he disdains to
touch' lt, like'the disie of 2,T.0a1i, even with his foot. But he
stretclia Oat his ciiiijureAmAtiid, and Id! 'a new Parnassus wedi
its top to Head; 04i 'helicon comes sounding from its
summit. 04 Itst4staisAlt our adventurisgs Bard, oglening anew
the ancient" itttetcourse between mortals 'and divinity. The
Moses kneel at kit feet, seeking emPloynient ; and Apolki re-;
tires, tenting' Ms' golden lock's" because a mortat has unthrOned
iron. The Poet looks calinlydoiin, eonscidt3 he haisoired the
utmost btiunds of inspiration ; he beholds the bugtling children
of a day playing below his feef. Pitying these degenerate sons
we kitt Admits Llagta again into 114 song, and caste

around them his superior light. Fang that you see the Bard
descending from his hill, aad throwing aside his Parnassian
mantle aad sandals, joining in the dance, and wooing the Lasses
of Nithsdale with those very lips yet warm with the breath of
the sacred Nine !
The Fourth and last Canto collects the straggters of the eldfi,
and marshals them under the redoubted conveener Tamson.
This personage, whom the Poet owns he loves, for allowing
him to be familiar with his hammers and rasps, places at his
side the winner of the " filler Gun," who bears the trophy' at
his hat, or thou " tube," or 46 trinket," or " whistle," for the
Poet calls it by all these names.
To this noble Poem notes arc affixed, which are akin to the
Poetry, and may, with much propriety, be called y.,,pisodes.—
Notes are like the postscripts to ladies letters, they let us far-
ther into the heart and mind of the author than the Poem itself
can be expected to do. Some high minded bards have un-
blushingly sung their certainty of poetic immortality, but John
Mayne only in plain prose, and by certain mysterious
hints, modestly proclaims his claims to rhyming infallibility.
And now, Dumfries, lift up thy head proudly above all the
cities of the plain. Thebes, with her hundred gates ; Troy,
whose walls were built by Jupiter's masons—.where Venus and
Apollo carried mortar; or, the Temple of Jerusalem itself,
where the clink of mortal hammer never sounded, what were
they to thee ; thy narrow streets, and thy unsorted irregular
buildings, when sung by John Mayne, make all the temples
and palaces of Heathenism sink into a dirty .Presbyterian Kirk
eroue.hing at the side of a Roman Abbey.
Happy art thou Dumfries, happiest of all the towns or cities
in the world. In thee was a poet born, who has wedded thee
to unperishable honour, who has sung the.; citizens in strains
which the teeth of time may gnaw at in vain.
Take up thy trumpet Fame and route it, .
Till thy brass lungs crack wi' the tout 'ot."
My Scotish heart is leaping at the thought, and my mind
feels pregnant with futurity, like the wild ravings of sybillic
prophecy. The seer's spirit is upon me, and I gaze throp,gh
the dim vista of two thousand future years. .
Dumfries is in ruins--her gardens are wildernesses, and. the
silver looping Nith, with her fair harbour, is choked, like the
Trojan Scamander, with a spadeful crf earth.—Behold there
,Are
Pilgrims from the four winds of Heaven, sitting among her
ruins, with the Poem of John Mayne in their hands, saying—#.
let us explore the ruins—let us examine the desolate place.
Here stood the anvil of Conveener Tamson, and here did his
hammer sound ! Here is the glorious river Nith, where the
l'oet plied the fish-rod when he played truant from school.
Apollo, jealous of its fame, has scorched up its fountains, and
burned its waters dry. Down this ruin paved street sounded the
ivory virled bagpipes of John Brown, the Lochniaben pip“
and here stood the accursed stocks wherein Apollo's tutor, John
Ditigwall, was put for drinking on Sunday. But what high
pillar is that which ruin has not dared to toucht its top.is an;
ass rampant, with wings put on its hips, treading in a flood of
fire. Apollo is holding the stirrup, while a figure, excelling.the
God in accomplished proportion, is mounted and managing the
steed; let us translate these lettere of gold below the statue—.
" To the Bard of tie Shier Gun.
" This Column is erected by kis gratefulToun4me-n, .181,(1."
•• • •

.;J ii(i

Sir J. Bransconib and Co. 1. Sivewright, Sole Surtiving Part
ner, are happy to announce the New Plan of the State I.ettitry;
to be drawn 15th February, 1811, will remove every objection ;.
that has hithtrto been stated. There are more. Capital Prizes,
and each will now be of different Numbers, and there are none
less than 201. They trust their :tincornmungood,rune will '
ever attend their Friends the Public, having solsl 4.444a5t ,r,
year ALONE, six prizes of 20,0001.; fOrty of 5001. up to 10;0001.
the first 30,0001.; the last 9.6,0001.; the only 40,0001.; and s4ve-
ral Prizes of 100, .500, and 1,000 'ficir.eta,. wbich last produceV
514,7651.; and others too great to enumerate, at their Offweapr. •
Cornliill, .3j3, Haymarket, 11, tiolborn.

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