of
Wallace and Bruce--the battle of Flodden--and the sad fate of Queen
Mary; and from most of these themes he drew an inspiration which could
scarcely have been conceived to reside even in them. On Wallace, Bruce,
and Queen Mary, his mind seems to have brooded with peculiar
intensity--on the two former, because they were patriots; and on the
latter, because she was a beautiful woman; and his allusions to them
rank with the finest parts in his or any poetry. He seemed especially
adapted to be the poet-laureate of Wallace--a modern edition, somewhat
improved, of the broad, brawny, ragged bard who actually, it is
probable, attended in the train of Scotland's patriot hero, and whose
constant occupation it was to change the gold of his achievements into
the silver of song. Scottish manners, too, as well as history, exerted a
powerful influence on Scotland's peasant-poet. They were then far more
peculiar than now, and had only been faintly or partially represented by
previous poets. Thus, the christening of the _wean_, with all its
ceremony and all its mirth--Hallowe'en, with its "rude awe and
laughter"--the "Rockin'"--the "Brooze"--the Bridal--and a hundred other
intensely Scottish and very old customs, were all ripe and ready for the
poet, and many of them he has treated, accordingly, with consummate
felicity and genius. It seems almost as if the _final cause_ of their
long-continued existence were connected with the appearance, in due
time, of one who was to extract their finest essence, and to embalm them
for ever in his own form of ideal representation.
Burns, too, doubtless derived much from previous poets. This is a common
case, as we have before hinted, with even the most original. Had not
Shakspeare and Milton been "celestial thieves," their writings would
have been far less rich and brilliant than they are; although, had they
not possessed true originality, they would not have taken their present
lofty position in the world of letters. So, to say that Burns was much
indebted to his predecessors, and that he often imitated Ramsay and
Fergusson, and borrowed liberally from the old ballads, is by no means
to derogate from his genius. If he took, he gave with interest. The most
commonplace songs, after they had, as he said, "got a brushing" from his
hands, assumed a totally different aspect. Each ballad was merely a
piece of canvas, on which he inscribed his inimitable paintings.
Sometimes even by a single word he proc
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