THIS unfortunate young man, who died in a mad-house at the age of twenty-four, left some pieces of considerable humour and originality in the Scottish dialect. Burns, who took the hint of his Cotter's Saturday Night from Fergusson's Farmer's Ingle, seems to have esteemed him with an exaggerated partiality, which can only be accounted for by his having perused him in his youth*. On his first visit to Edinburgh, Burns traced out the grave of Fergusson, and placed a head-stone over it at his own expense, inscribed with verses of appropriate feeling+.

Fergusson was born at Edinburgh, where his father held the office of accountant to the British Linen-hall. He was educated partly at the highschool of Edinburgh, and partly at the grammarschool of Dundee, after which a bursary, or exhibition, was obtained for him at the university of St. Andrew's, where he soon distinguished himself as a youth of promising genius. His eccentricity was, unfortunately, of equal growth with his talents; and on one occasion, having taken part in an affray among the students, that broke out at the distribution of the prizes, he was selected as one of the leaders, and expelled from college; but was received back again upon promises of future good behaviour. On leaving college he found himself destitute, by the death of his father; and after a fruitless attempt to obtain support from an uncle at Aberdeen, he returned on foot to his mother's house at Edin

burgh, half dead with the fatigue of the journey, which brought on an illness that had nearly proved fatal to his delicate frame. On his recovery he was received as a clerk in the commissary clerk's office, where he did not continue long, but exchanged it for the same situation in the office of the sheriff clerk, and there he remained as long as his health and habits admitted of any application to business. Had he possessed ordinary prudence, he might have lived by the drudgery of copying papers; but the appearance of some of his poems having gained him a flattering notice, he was drawn into dissipated company, and became a wit, a songster, a mimic, and a free liver; and finally, after fits of penitence and religious despondency, went mad. When committed to the receptacle of the insane, a consciousness of his dreadful fate seemed to come over him. At the moment of his entrance, he uttered a wild cry of despair, which was re-echoed by a shout from all the inmates of the dismal mansion, and left an impression of inexpressible horror on the friends who had the task of attending him. His mother, being in extreme poverty, had no other mode of disposing of him. A remittance, which she received a few days after, from a more fortunate son, who was abroad, would have enabled her to support the expense of affording him attendance in her own house; but the aid did not arrive till the poor maniac had expired‡.

An' gars snaw-tappit Winter freeze in vain ; Garss dowie mortals look baith blithe an' bauld,

An' lusty lasses at the dightin'e tire;

[* Burns in one place prefers him to Allan Ramsay; the excellent Ramsay," he says, "and the still more xcellent Fergusson." But he has found no follower. | urns' obligations to Fergusson are certainly greater an to Ramsay, and gratitude for once warped his genelly good, sound, and discriminating taste in poetic cricism.]

[ No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay,
No storied urn nor animated bust;
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way,
To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust.]

a Peeps.-b Oxen.- Fatigued. Shuts.-e Winnowing.

Nor fley'd wi' a' the poortith o' the plain; Begin, my Muse! and chaunt in hamely strain.

Frae the big stack, weel winnow't on the hill, Wi' divots theekiti frae the weet an' drift; Sods, peats, and heathery turfs the chimleyi fill, An' gar their thickening smeek salute the lift.

[ 0 thou my elder brother in misfortune, By far my elder brother in the muses,

With tears I pity thy unhappy fate!-BURNS.]

f What bangs fu' leal-what shuts out most comfortably. - Makes. Frightened.-i Thatched with turf.-j Chimney-k Smoke,

The gudeman, new come hame, is blithe to find, Whan he out owre the hallan1 flings his een, That ilka turn is handled to his mind;

That a' his housie looks sae coshm an' clean; For cleanly house lo'es he, though e'er sae mean. Weel kens the gudewife, that the pleughs require A heartsome meltith", an' refreshin' syndo O' nappy liquor, owre a bleezin' fire:

Sair wark an' poortith downap weel be join'd. Wi' butter'd bannocks now the girdle reeks; I' the far nook the bowie' briskly reams; The readied kail' stands by the chimley cheeks, An' haud the riggin' het wi' welcome streams, Whilk than the daintiest kitchen' nicer seems.

V

Frae this, lat gentler gabs" a lesson lear :
Wad they to labouring lend an eident hand,
They'd rax fell strang upo' the simplest fare,
Nor find their stamacks ever at a stand.
Fu' hale an' healthy wad they pass the day;
At night, in calmest slumbers dose fu' sound;
Nor doctor need their weary life to spae",

Nor drogs their noddle and their sense confound, Till death slip sleely on, an' gie the hindmost [wound.

On sicken food has mony a doughty deed
By Caledonia's ancestors been done;
By this did mony a wight fu' weirlike bleed
In brulzies frae the dawn to set o' sun.
'Twas this that braced their gardies stiff an' strang;
That bent the deadly yew in ancient days;
Laid Denmark's daring sons on yird alang;

Garr'd Scotish thristles bang the Roman bays;
For near our crest their heads they dought na raise.

The couthy cracks begin whan supper's owre;
The cheering bicker gars them glibly gashe
O' Simmer's showery blinks, an' Winter's sour,
Whase floods did erst their mailin's produce
'Bout kirk an' market eke their tales gae on; [hash.
How Jock woo'd Jenny here to be his bride;
An' there, how Marion, for a bastard son,

Upo' the cutty-stool was forced to ride;

The waefu' scauld o' our Mess John to bide.

Frae gudame's mouth auld warld tales they O' warlocks loupin round the wirrikowi: [hear, O' ghaists, that wini in glen an kirkyard drear, Whilk touzles a' their tap, an' gars them shake wi' fear!

1 The inner wall of a cottage. Comfortable." Meal. Drink.-P Should not. A flat iron for toasting cakes. Beer-barrel.-8 Broth with greens. - Kitchen here means what is eaten with bread; there is no English word for it; obsonium is the Latin.- Palates.- Assiduous. Foretell.- In contests.-y Arms.-2 Earth.Pleasant talk.-b The cup.-c Chat.-d Destroy the produce of their farms.-e Not a whimper.-f Moan.-g Circles.- Grandame.-i Scare-crow.- Abide.

For weel she trows, that fiends an' fairies be
Sent frae the deil to fleetch us to our ill;
That ky hae tint1 their milk wi' evil ee;

An' corn been scowder'd on the glowin' kiln. O mock nae this, my friends! but rather mourn, Ye in life's brawest spring wi' reason clear; Wi' eild" our idle fancies a' return,

And dim our dolefu' days wi' bairnly fear; The mind's ay cradled whan the grave is near. Yet Thrift, industrious, bides her latest days,

Though Age her sair-dow'd front wi' runcles Yet frae the russet lap the spindle plays; [wave; Her e'enin stent P reels she as weel's the lave On some feast-day, the wee things buskit braw, Shall heese her heart up wi' a silent joy, Fu' cadgie that her head was up an' saw Her ain spun cleedin' on a darlin' oy'; [foy'. Careless though death shou'd mak the feast her In its auld lerroch' yet the deas" remains, Where the gudeman aft streeks him at his A warm and canny lean for weary banes [ease; O' labourers doylt upo' the wintry leas. Round him will baudrins an' the collie come, To wag their tail, and cast a thankfu' ee, To him wha kindly flings them mony a crum O'kebbuck whang'd, an' dainty fadge3 to prie2; This a' the boon they crave, an' a' the fee. Frae him the lads their mornin' counsel tak: What stacks he wants to thrash; what rigs to How big a birna maun lie on bassie's back, [till; For meal an' mu'ter to the thirlin' mill. Niest, the gudewife her hirelin' damsels bids Glowr through the byre,an' see the hawkies bound, Tak tent, case Crummy tak her wonted tids', An' ca' the laiglen's treasure on the ground; Whilk spills a kebbuck nice, or yellow pound. Then a' the house for sleep begin to greens, Their joints to slack frae industry a while; The leaden god fa's heavy on their e'en,

An' hafflins steeks them frae their daily toil: The cruizy, too, can only blink and bleer;

The reistit ingle's done the maist it dow; Tacksman an' cottar eke to bed maun steer, Upo' the codi to clear their drumly powi, Till wauken'd by the dawnin's ruddy glow. Peace to the husbandman, an' a' his tribe,

Whase care fells a' our wants frae year to year! Lang may his sock and cou'ter turn the gleyb1,

An' banks o' corn bend down wi' laded ear!

May Scotia's simmers ay look gay an' green;

Her yellow ha'rsts frae scowry blasts decreed! May a' her tenants sit fu' snug an' bien TM, Frae the hard grip o' ails, and poortith freed; An' a lang lasting train o' peacefu' hours succeed! k Entice. Lost.-m Scorched." Age.- ChildishP Task. The rest. Grandchild. Her farewell entertainment.-t Corner.-u Bench.- Stretches- The cat - Cheese-y Loaf. To taste. Burthen. The horse. The miller's perquisite. Cows- Fitsf The milk-pail. To long. The lamp. Pi'low.— ¿ Thick heads. Ploughshare. Soil. Comfortable.

THE old Egyptians hid their wit

In hieroglyphic dress,

To give men pains in search for it,
And please themselves with guess.

Moderns, to hit the self-same path,

And exercise our parts,
Place figures in a room at Bath-
Forgive them, God of Arts!

Newton, if I can judge aright,

All wisdom does express;

His knowledge gives mankind new light, Adds to their happiness.

Pope is the emblem of true wit,

The sunshine of the mind; Read o'er his works for proof of it, You'll endless pleasure find.

Nash represents man in the mass,

Made up of wrong and right; Sometimes a knave, sometimes an ass, Now blunt, and now polite.

The picture placed the busts between Adds to the thought much strength; Wisdom and Wit are little seen,

But Folly's at full length.

[* To add to his honours, the corporation of Bath placed a full-length statue of him in Wiltshire's Ballroom, between the busts of Newton and Pope. It was upon this occasion that the Earl of Chesterfield wrote that severe but witty epigram, the last lines of which were so deservedly admired, and ran thus:

The statue placed the busts between
Adds to the satire strength;

Wisdom and Wit are little seen,

But Folly at full length.

GOLDSMITH, Life of Nash (Prior), vol. iii. p. 314.

Mr. Prior says that the first version of this celebrated epigram appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1741, but we find it in Mr. Dyce's Specimens of British Poetesses, as by Jane Brereton, who died in 1740, and among her poems collected by Cave in 1744. It was soon after 1735 that the statue, not the picture, was put up at Bath. Good sayings fly loose on the surface of society, and are generally assigned to men whom it is the fashion to celebrate, and who accept in silence all such felicities.]

OLIVER GOLDSMITH was born at a place called Pallas, in the parish of Forney, and county of Longford, in Ireland. His father held the living of Kilkenny West, in the county of Westmeath There was a tradition in the family, that they were descended from Juan Romeiro, a Spanish gentleman, who had settled in Ireland, in the sixteenth century, and had married a woman whose name of Goldsmith was adopted by their descendants. Oliver was instructed in reading and writing by Thomas Byrne,a schoolmaster in his father's parish, who had been a quarter-master in the wars of Queen Anne; and who, being fond of relating his adventures, is supposed to have communicated to the young mind of his pupil the romantic and wandering disposition which showed itself in his future years. He was next placed † under the Rev. Mr. Griffin, schoolmaster of Elphin, and was received into the house of his father's brother, Mr. Goldsmith, of Ballyoughter. Some relations and friends of his uncle, who were met on a social party, happening to be struck with the sprightliness of Oliver's abilities, and knowing the narrow circumstances of his father, offered to join in defraying the expense of giving him a liberal education. The chief contributor was the Rev. Thomas Contarine, who had married our poet's aunt. He was accordingly sent, for some time, to the school of Athlone, and afterwards to an academy at Edgeworthstown, where he was fitted for the university. He was admitted a sizer or servitor of Trinity college, Dublin, in his sixteenth year, [11th June, 1745] a circumstance which denoted considerable proficiency; and three years afterwards was elected one of the exhibitioners on the foundation of Erasmus Smith §. But though he occasionally

[* His mother, by name Ann Jones, was married to Charles Goldsmith on the 4th of May, 1718-PRIOR, Vol. i. p. 14.]

[ An attack of confluent small-pox, which had nearly deprived him of life, and left traces of its ravages in his face ever after, first caused him to be taken from under the care of Byrne.-PRIOR, vol. i. p. 28.]

This benevolent man was descended from the noble family of the Contarini of Venice. His ancestor, having married a nun in his native country, was obliged to fly with her into France, where she died of the small-pox. Being pursued by ecclesiastical censures, Contarini came to England; but the puritanical manners which then prevailed, having afforded him but a cold reception, he was on his way to Ireland, when, at Chester, he met with a young lady of the name of Chaloner, whom he married. Having afterwards conformed to the established church, he, through the interest of his wife's family, obtained ecclesiastical preferment in the diocese of Elphin. Their lineal descendant was the benefactor of Goldsmith.-[See PRIOR, vol. i. p. 51.]

[§ Out of nineteen elected on the occasion, his name

distinguished himself by his translations from the classics, his general appearance at the university corresponded neither with the former promises, nor future development of his talents. He was, like Johnson, a lounger at the college-gate. He gained neither premiums nor a scholarship, and was not admitted to the degree of bachelor of arts till two years after the regular time. His backwardness, it would appear, was the effect of despair more than of wilful negligence . He had been placed under a savage tutor, named Theaker Wilder, who used to insult him at publie examinations, and to treat his delinquencies with a ferocity that broke his spirit. On one occasion, poor Oliver was so imprudent as to invite a company of young people, of both sexes, to a dance and supper in his rooms; on receiving intelligence of which, Theaker grimly repaired to the place of revelry, belaboured him before his guests, and rudely broke up the assembly. The disgrace of this inhuman treatment drove him for a time from the university. He set out from Dublin, intending to sail from Cork for some other country, he knew not whither; but, after wandering about till he was reduced to such famine, that he thought a handful of gray peas, which a girl gave him at a wake, the sweetest repast he had ever tasted, he returned home, like the prodigal son, and matters were adjusted for his being received again at college.

About the time of his finally leaving the university his father died. His uncle Contarine, from whom he experienced the kindness of a father, wished him to have taken orders, and Oliver is said to have applied for them, but to have been rejected; though for what reason is not sufficiently known**. He then accepted the situation of private tutor in a gentleman's family, and retained it long enough to save about 30%, with which he bought a tolerable horse, and went stands seventeenth on the list; the emolument was trifling, being no more than about thirty shillings; but the credit something, for it was the first distinction be had obtained in his college career.-PRIOR, VOl. i. p. 87.1

[ Mr. Prior discovered several notices of Goldsmith in the College books. On the 9th of May 1718, he was turned down; twice he was cautioned for neglecting a Greek lecture, and thrice commended for diligence in attending it.]

[His father died early in 1747. before he had become an exhibitioner on Smith's foundation. On the 27th February 1749, after a residence of four years, he was admitted to the degree of bachelor of arts.]

[** By the account of his sister, he was rejected on the plea of being too young; whatever was the cause of his rejection, he does not seem to have made a second attempt. --PRIOR.]

forth upon his adventures. At the end of six weeks his friends, having heard nothing of him, concluded that he had left the kingdom, when he returned to his mother's house, without a penny, upon a poor little horse, which he called Fiddleback, and which was not worth more than twenty shillings. The account which he gave of himself was, that he had been at Cork, where he had sold his former horse, and paid his passage to America; but the ship happening to sail whilst he was viewing the curiosities of the city, he had just money enough left to purchase Fiddleback, and to reach the house of an old acquaintance on the road. This nominal friend, however, had received him very coldly; and, in order to evade his application for pecuniary relief, had advised him to sell his diminutive steed, and promised him another in its place, which should cost him nothing either for price or provender. To confirm this promise, he pulled out an oaken staff from beneath a bed. Just as this generous offer had been made, a neighbouring gentleman came in, and invited both the miser and Goldsmith to dine with him. Upon a short acquaintance, Oliver communicated his situation to the stranger, and was enabled, by his liberality, to proceed upon his journey. This was his story. His mother, it may be supposed, was looking rather gravely upon her prudent child, who had such adventures to relate, when he concluded them by saying, "and now, my dear mother, having struggled so hard to come home to you, I wonder that you are not more rejoiced to see me." Mr. Contarine next resolved to send him to the Temple; but on his way to London he was fleeced of all his money in gaming, and returned once more to his mother's house in disgrace and affliction. Again was his good uncle reconciled to him, and equipped him for Edinburgh, that he might pursue the study of medicine.

On his arrival at Edinburgh, in the autumn of 1752, he took lodgings, and sallied forth to take a view of the city; but, at a late hour, he recollected that he had omitted to inform himself of the name and address of his landlady; and would not have found his way back, if he had not fortunately met with the porter who had carried his luggage. After attending two winter courses of medical lectures at Edinburgh, he was permitted, by his uncle, to repair to Leyden, for the sake of finishing his studies, when his departure was accelerated by a debt, which he had contracted by becoming security for an acquaintance, and from the arrest attending which, he was only saved by the interference of a friend. If Leyden, however, was his object, he with the usual eccentricity of his motions, set out to reach it by way of Bordeaux, and embarked in a ship which was bound thither from Leith; but which was driven, by stress of weather, into Newcastle

[* Mr. Prior says he was a year there; surely 301. was a large sum to save in so short a period.]

upon-Tyne. His fellow-passengers were some Scotchmen, who had been employed in raising men in their own country for the service of the king of France. They were arrested, by orders from government, at Newcastle; and Goldsmith, who had been committed to prison with them, was not liberated till after a fortnight's confinement. By this accident, however, he was eventually saved from an early death. This vessel sailed during his imprisonment, and was wrecked at the mouth of the Garonne, where every soul on board perished.

On being released, he took shipping for Holland, and arrived at Leyden, where he continued about a twelvemonth, and studied chemistry and anatomy. At the end of that time, having exhausted his last farthing at the gaming-table, and expended the greater part of a supply, which a friend lent him, in purchasing some costly Dutch flower-roots, which he intended for a present to his uncle, he set out to make the tour of Europe on foot, unincumbered at least by the weight of his money. The manner in which he occasionally subsisted, during his travels, by playing his flute among the peasantry, and by disputing at the different universities, has been innumerable times repeated. In the last, and most authentic account of his life †, the circumstance of his having ever been a travelling tutor is called in question. Assistance from his uncle must have reached him, as he remained for six months at Padua, after having traversed parts of Flanders, France, Germany, and Switzerland, in the last of which countries he wrote the first sketch of his "Traveller."

His uncle having died while he was in Italy, he was obliged to travel on foot through France to England, and arrived in London in extreme distress. He was for a short time usher in an academy, and was afterwards found and relieved, by his old friend Dr. Sleigh, in the situation of journeyman to a chemist §. By his friend's assistance he was enabled to take lodgings in the city, and endeavoured to establish himself in medical practice. In this attempt he was unsuccessful; but through the interest of Dr. Milner, a dissenting clergyman, he obtained the appointment of a physician to one of the factories in India; and, in order to defray the expense of getting thither, prepared to publish, by subscription, his "Enquiry into the Present State of Polite Literature in Europe." For some unknown reason his appointment to India was [ Since Mr. Campbell wrote, the Life of Goldsmith has been written by Mr. Prior in two elaborate octavo volumes, full of new facts and new matter, that attest what unwearied research and well directed diligence may achieve. But Mr. Prior, like Mr. Campbell, has given an indue importance to Goldsmith. The circumstance however to which Mr. Campbell alludes, is left by Prior in the same obscurity.]

[ Early in the year 1756.-PRIOR.] [Named Jacob, and residing at the corner of Monument or Bell Yard, on Fish Street Hill.-PRIOR.]