The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Ii Part 15

When the eye that expresses the warmth of his heart, Shall fail the benevolent wish to impart-- When his blood shall be cold as the wintry wave, And silent his harp as the gloom of the grave, Then say that the Bard has turn'd old.

HAMILTON PAUL.

A man of fine intellect, a poet, and an elegant writer, Hamilton Paul has claims to remembrance. On the 10th April 1773, he was born in a small cottage on the banks of Girvan Water, in the parish of Dailly, and county of Ayr. In the same dwelling, Hugh Ainslie, another Scottish bard, was afterwards born. Receiving his elementary education at the parish school, he became a student in the University of Glasgow. Thomas Campbell, author of "The Pleasures of Hope," was a college contemporary; and their mutual love of poetry drew them closely to each other; they competed for academical rewards offered for the best compositions in verse, till frequent adjudication as to the equality of their merits, induced them to forbear contesting on the same subjects. At least on one occasion the verses of Paul were preferred to those of the Bard of Hope.

The following lines, exhibiting a specimen of his poetical powers at this period, are from a translation of Claudian's "Epithalamium on the Marriage of Honorius and Maria," for which, in the Latin cla.s.s, he gained a prize along with his friend:--

"Maria, now the maid of heavenly charms, Decreed to bliss the youthful monarch's arms; Inflames Augustus with unwonted fires, And in his breast awakens new desires.

In love a novice, while his bosom glows With restless heat, the cause he scarcely knows; The rural pastimes suited to his age, His late delight, no more his care engage; No more he wills to give his steed the reins In eager chase, and urge him o'er the plains; No more he joys to bend the tw.a.n.ging bow, To hurl the javeline, or the dart to throw; His alter'd thoughts to other objects rove, To wounds inflicted by the G.o.d of love.

How oft, expressive of the inward smart, Did groans convulsive issue from his heart!

How oft did blushes own the sacred flame, How oft his hand unbidden wrote her name!

Now presents worthy of the plighted fair, And nuptial robes his busy train prepare-- Robes wherewith Livia was herself attired, And those bright dames that to the beds aspired Of emperors. Yet the celestial maid Requires no earthly ornamental aid To give her faultless form a single grace, Or add one charm to her bewitching face."

The circ.u.mstances of the young poets were far from affluent. Campbell particularly felt the pressure of poverty. He came hastily one morning to the lodgings of his friend to request his opinion of some verses; they were immediately printed, and the copies sold to his fellow-students for a halfpenny each. So Paul sometimes told his friends, quoting the following lines as all he could remember of the production:--

"Loud shriek'd afar the angry sprite, That rode upon the storm of night, And loud the waves were heard to roar That lash'd on Jura's rocky sh.o.r.e."

After several sessions of attendance at college, Paul became tutor to a family in Argyleshire, and Campbell obtained a similar situation in the island of Mull. They entered into a humorous correspondence in prose and verse. "Your verses on the Unfortunate Lady," writes Campbell to his friend, "I read with sweet pleasure; for there is a joy in grief, when peace dwelleth in the breast of the sad.... Morose as I am in judging of poetry, I could find nothing inelegant in the whole piece. I hope you will in your next (since you are such a master of the plaintive) send me some verses consolatory to a hermit; for my sequestered situation sometimes stamps a firm belief on my mind that I am actually an anchorite. In return for your welcome poetical effusion, I have nothing at present but a chorus of the Jepthes of Buchanan, written soon after my arrival in Mull:--

"Gla.s.sy Jordan, smooth meandering Jacob's gra.s.sy meads between, Lo! thy waters, gently wandering, Lave thy valleys rich and green.

"When the winter, keenly show'ring, Strips fair Salem's holy shade, Then thy current, broader flowing, Lingers 'mid the leafless glade.

"When, O! when shall light returning Gild the melancholy gloom, And the golden star of morning Jordan's solemn vault illume?

"When shall Freedom's holy charmer Cheer my long benighted soul?

When shall Israel, proud in armour, Burst the tyrant's base control?" &c.

"The similarity of the measure with that of your last made me think of sending you this piece. I am much hurried at present with my comedy, the 'Clouds of Aristophanes.' I have already finished my translation of the Choephor of aeschylus. I dreamt a dream about your being before Parna.s.sus upon your trial for sedition and contumacy. I thought Thalia, Clio, &c. addressed you. Their speeches shall be nonsensified into rhyme, and shall be part of some other scrawl from your affectionate friend,

"THOMAS THE HERMIT."

In another epistle Campbell threatens to "send a formal message to the kind nymphs of Parna.s.sus, telling them that, whereas Hamilton Paul, their favourite and admired laureate of the north, has been heard to express his admiration of certain nymphs in a certain place; and that the said Hamilton Paul has ungratefully and feloniously neglected to speak with due reverence of the ladies of Helicon; that said Hamilton Paul shall be deprived of all aid in future from these G.o.ddesses, and be sent to draw his inspiration from the dry fountain of earthly beauty; and that, furthermore, all the favours taken from the said Hamilton Paul shall accrue to the informer and pet.i.tioner!"

After two years' residence in the Highlands, both the poets returned to Glasgow to resume their academical studies: Campbell to qualify himself as a man of letters, and Paul to prepare for the ministry of the Scottish Church. "It would have been impossible, even during the last years of their college life," writes Mr Deans,[72] "to have predicted which of the two students would ultimately arrive at the greatest eminence. They were both excellent cla.s.sical scholars; they were both ingenious poets; and Campbell does not appear to have surpa.s.sed his companion either in his original pieces or his translations; they both exhibited great versatility of talent; they were both playful and witty; and seem to have been possessed of great facilities in sport. During his latter years, when detailing the history of those joyous days, Mr Paul dwelt on them with peculiar delight, and seemed animated with youthful emotion when recalling the curious frolics and innocent and singular adventures in which Campbell and he had performed a princ.i.p.al part."

While resident at Inverary, Mr Paul composed several poems, which were much approved by his correspondent. Among these, a ballad ent.i.tled "The Maid of Inverary," in honour of Lady Charlotte Campbell, afterwards Lady Bury, was set to music, and made the subject of elaborate criticism. On his return to the university, he composed with redoubled ardour, contributing verses on every variety of topic to the newspapers and periodicals. Several of his pieces, attracting the notice of some of the professors, received their warm commendation.

Obtaining licence to preach, the poet returned to his native county.

During a probation of thirteen years, he was a.s.sistant to six parish ministers, and tutor in five different families. He became joint-proprietor and editor of the _Ayr Advertiser_, which he conducted for a period of three years. At Ayr he was a member of every literary circle; was connected with every club; chaplain to every society; a speaker at every meeting; the poet of every curious occurrence; and the welcome guest at every table. Besides editing his newspaper, he gave private instructions in languages, and preached on Sabbath. His metrical productions became widely known, and his songs were sung at the cottage hearths of the district. His presence at the social meeting was the sure indication of a prevalent good humour.

In 1813, Mr Paul attained the summit of his professional ambition; he was ordained to the pastoral office in the united parishes of Broughton, Glenholm, and Kilbucho, in Peeblesshire. Amidst due attention to his clerical duties, he still found leisure to engage in literary pursuits, and continued to contribute to the public journals both in prose and poetry. Of the poet Burns he was an enthusiastic admirer; he was laureate of the "Burns' Allowa' Club," and of the Glasgow Ayrshire Friendly Society, whose annual meetings were held on the Bard's anniversary; and the odes which he composed for these annual a.s.semblages attracted wide and warm admiration. He therefore recommended himself as a suitable editor of the works of Burns, when a new edition was contemplated by Messrs Wilson and M'Cormick, booksellers in Ayr. In the performance of his editorial task, he was led, in an attempt to palliate the immoralities of Burns, to make some indiscreet allusions respecting his own clerical brethren; for this imprudence he narrowly escaped censure from the ecclesiastical courts. His memoir, though commended in _Blackwood's Magazine_, conducted by Professor Wilson, was severely censured by Dr Andrew Thomson in the _Christian Instructor_.

The pastoral parish of Broughton was in many respects suited for a person of Hamilton Paul's peculiar temperament and habits; in a more conspicuous position his talents might have shone with more brilliancy; but, after the burst of enthusiasm in his youth was past, he loved seclusion, and modestly sought the shade. No man was less conscious of his powers, or attached less value to his literary performances.[73] Of his numerous poetical compositions each was the work of a sitting, or had been uttered impromptu; and, unless secured by a friend, they were commonly laid aside never to be recollected. As a clergyman, he retained, during a lengthened inc.u.mbency, the respect and affection of his flock, chiefly, it may be remarked, from the acceptability of his private services, and the warmth and kindliness of his dispositions. His pulpit discourses were elegantly composed, and largely impressed with originality and learning; but were somewhat imperfectly pervaded with those clear and evangelical views of Divine truth which are best calculated to edify a Christian audience. In private society, he was universally beloved. "His society," writes Mr Deans, "was courted by the rich and the poor, the learned and the unlearned. In every company he was alike kind, affable, and unostentatious; as a companion, he was the most engaging of men; he was the best story-teller of his day." His power of humour was unbounded; he had a joke for every occasion, a _bon-mot_ for every adventure. He had eminent power of satire when he chose to wield it; but he generally blended the complimentary with the pungent, and lessened the keenness of censure by the good-humour of its utterance. His anecdotes are familiar over a wide district, and many of his witty sayings have become proverbial. He was abundantly hospitable, and had even suffered embarra.s.sments from its injudicious exercise; still he was always able, as he used to say--

"To invite the wanderer to the gate, And spread the couch of rest."

It was his earnest desire that he might live to pay his liabilities, and he was spared to accomplish the wish. He died on the 28th of February 1854, in the 81st year of his age.

In appearance, Hamilton Paul presented a handsome person, tall and erect; his countenance was regular and pleasant; and his eyes, which were partially concealed by overhanging eye-lashes, beamed with humour and intelligence. In conversation he particularly excelled, evincing on every topic the fruits of extensive reading and reflection. He was readily moved by the pathetic; at the most joyous hour, a melancholy incident would move him into tears. The tenderness of his heart was frequently imparted to his verses, which are uniformly distinguished for smoothness and simplicity.

[72] We are indebted to Mr W. Deans, author of a "History of the Ottoman Empire," for much of the information contained in this memoir. Mr Deans was personally acquainted with Mr Hamilton Paul.

[73] "He never took any credit to himself," communicates his friend, Mr H. S. Riddell, "from the widely-known circ.u.mstance of his having carried off the prize from Campbell. He said that Campbell was at that period a very young man, much younger than he, and had much less experience in composition than himself."

HELEN GRAY.

Fair are the fleecy flocks that feed On yonder heath-clad hills, Where wild meandering crystal Tweed Collects his gla.s.sy rills.

And sweet the buds that scent the air, And deck the breast of May; But none of these are sweet or fair, Compared to Helen Gray.

You see in Helen's face so mild, And in her bashful mien, The winning softness of the child, The blushes of fifteen.

The witching smile, when p.r.o.ne to go, Arrests me, bids me stay; Nor joy, nor comfort can I know, When 'reft of Helen Gray.

I little thought the dark-brown moors, The dusky mountain's shade, Down which the wasting torrent pours, Conceal'd so sweet a maid; When sudden started from the plain A sylvan scene and gay, Where, pride of all the virgin train, I first saw Helen Gray.

May never Envy's venom'd breath, Blight thee, thou tender flower!

And may thy head ne'er droop beneath Affliction's chilling shower!

Though I, the victim of distress, Must wander far away; Yet, till my dying hour, I 'll bless The name of Helen Gray.

THE BONNIE La.s.s OF BARR.

Of streams that down the valley run, Or through the meadow glide, Or glitter to the summer sun, The Stinshar[74] is the pride.

'Tis not his banks of verdant hue, Though famed they be afar; Nor gra.s.sy hill, nor mountain blue, Nor flower bedropt with diamond dew; 'Tis she that chiefly charms the view, The bonnie la.s.s of Barr.

When rose the lark on early wing, The vernal tide to hail; When daisies deck'd the breast of spring, I sought her native vale.

The beam that gilds the evening sky, And brighter morning star, That tells the king of day is nigh, With mimic splendour vainly try To reach the l.u.s.tre of thine eye, Thou bonnie la.s.s of Barr.

The sun behind yon misty isle, Did sweetly set yestreen; But not his parting dewy smile Could match the smile of Jean.

Her bosom swell'd with gentle woe, Mine strove with tender war.

On Stinshar's banks, while wild-woods grow, While rivers to the ocean flow, With love of thee my heart shall glow, Thou bonnie la.s.s of Barr.

[74] The English p.r.o.nouncing the name of this river _Stinkar_, induced the poet Burns to change it to Lugar.