The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Ii Part 20

In preferring the parish of Ruthwell to the better position and wider field of ministerial usefulness presented at Lochmaben, Mr Duncan was influenced by the consideration, that the population of the former parish was such as would enable him to extend the pastoral superintendence to every individual of his flock. In this respect he realised his wishes; but not content with efficiently discharging the more sacred duties of a parochial clergyman, he sought with devoted a.s.siduity, the amelioration of the physical condition of his people.

Relieving an immediate dest.i.tution in the parish, by a supply of Indian corn brought on his own adventure, he was led to devise means of preventing the recurrence of any similar period of depression. With this intention, he established two friendly societies in the place, and afterwards a local bank for the savings of the industrious. The latter proved the parent of those admirable inst.i.tutions for the working cla.s.ses, known as _Savings' Banks_, which have since become so numerous throughout Europe and the United States of America. The Ruthwell Savings' Bank was established in 1810. Numerous difficulties attended the early operation of the system, on its general adoption throughout the country, but these were obviated and removed by the skill and prompt.i.tude of the ingenious projector. At one period his correspondence on the subject cost him in postages an annual expenditure of one hundred pounds, a sum nearly equal to half the yearly emoluments of his parochial cure. The Act of Parliament establishing Savings' Banks in Scotland, which was pa.s.sed in July 1819, was procured through his indomitable exertions, and likewise the Act of 1835, providing for the better regulation of these inst.i.tutions.

At Ruthwell, Dr Duncan introduced the system of popular lectures on science, which has since been adopted by Mechanics' Inst.i.tutes. Further to extend the benefits of popular instruction and entertainment, he edited a series of tracts ent.i.tled "The Scottish Cheap Repository," one of the first of those periodicals devoted to the moral improvement of the people. A narrative designated "The Cottager's Fireside," which he originally contributed to this series, was afterwards published separately, and commanded a wide circulation. In 1809, Dr Duncan originated the _Dumfries and Galloway Courier_, a weekly newspaper which he conducted during the first seven years of its existence. He was a frequent contributor to "The Christian Instructor," and wrote the articles "Blair" and "Blacklock" for the _Edinburgh Encyclopaedia_. At the request of Lord Brougham, he composed two treatises on Savings'

Banks and Friendly Societies, for publication by the "Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge." In 1819, he published the "Young Country Weaver," a tale calculated to disseminate just political views among the manufacturing cla.s.ses; and in 1826 a tale of the times of the Covenant in three volumes, with the t.i.tle of "William Douglas, or the Scottish Exiles." Deeply interested in the question of Slave Emanc.i.p.ation, he contributed a series of letters on the subject to the _Dumfries Courier_, which, afterwards published in the form of a pamphlet, excited no inconsiderable attention. His most valuable and successful publication, the "Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons" appeared in 1836-7 in four duodecimo volumes.

As a man of science, the name of Dr Duncan is a.s.sociated with the discovery of footprints of four-footed animals in the New Red-Sandstone.

He made this curious geological discovery in a quarry at Cornc.o.c.klemuir, about fifteen miles distant from his parochial manse. In 1823, he received the degree of D.D. from the University of St Andrews. In 1839, he was raised to the Moderator's chair in the General a.s.sembly. In church politics, he had early espoused liberal opinions; at the Disruption in 1843, he resigned his charge and united himself to the Free Church. He continued to minister in the parish of Ruthwell, till the appointment of an a.s.sistant and successor a short time before his decease. Revisiting the scene of his ministerial labours after a brief absence, he was struck with paralysis while conducting service at a prayer-meeting, and two days afterwards expired. He died at Comlongon, the residence of his brother-in-law Mr Phillips, on the 12th February 1846, and his remains were committed to the church-yard of Ruthwell, in which he had ministered during an inc.u.mbency of upwards of forty-six years.

Dr Duncan was twice married; first in 1804, to Miss Craig, the only surviving daughter of his predecessor, and secondly in 1836, to Mrs Lundie, the relict of his friend Mr Lundie, minister of Kelso. His memoirs have been published by his son, the Rev. George John C. Duncan, minister of the Free Church, Greenwich. A man of fine intellect, extensive and varied scholarship, and highly benevolent dispositions, Dr Duncan was much cherished and beloved alike by his parishioners and his gifted contemporaries. Pious and exemplary as became his profession, he was expert in business, and was largely endowed with an inventive genius. Though hitherto scarcely known as a poet, he wrote verses so early as his eleventh year, which are described by his biographer as having "evinced a maturity of taste, a refinement of thought, and an ease of diction which astonished and delighted his friends," and the specimens of his more mature lyrical compositions, which we have been privileged to publish from his MSS. are such as to induce some regret that they were not sooner given to the public.

CURLING SONG.

The music o' the year is hush'd, In bonny glen and shaw, man; And winter spreads o'er nature dead A winding sheet o' snaw, man.

O'er burn and loch, the warlike frost, A crystal brig has laid, man; The wild geese screaming wi' surprise, The ice-bound wave ha'e fled, man.

Up, curler, frae your bed sae warm, And leave your coaxing wife, man; Gae get your besom, tramps and stane, And join the friendly strife, man.

For on the water's face are met, Wi' mony a merry joke, man; The tenant and his jolly laird, The pastor and his flock, man.

The rink is swept, the tees are mark'd, The bonspiel is begun, man; The ice is true, the stanes are keen, Huzza for glorious fun, man!

The skips are standing at the tee, To guide the eager game, man; Hush, not a word, but mark the broom, And tak' a steady aim, man.

There draw a shot, there lay a guard, And here beside him lie, man; Now let him feel a gamester's hand, Now in his bosom die, man; Then fill the port, and block the ice, We sit upon the tee, man; Now tak' this in-ring, sharp and neat, And mak' their winner flee, man.

How stands the game? Its eight and eight, Now for the winning shot, man; Draw slow and sure, and tak' your aim, I 'll sweep you to the spot, man.

The stane is thrown, it glides along, The besoms ply it in, man; Wi' twisting back the player stands, And eager breathless grin, man.

A moment's silence, still as death, Pervades the anxious thrang, man; When sudden bursts the victor's shout, With holla's loud and lang, man.

Triumphant besom's wave in air, And friendly banters fly, man; Whilst, cold and hungry, to the inn, Wi' eager steps they hie, man.

Now fill ae b.u.mper, fill but ane, And drink wi' social glee, man, May curlers on life's slippery rink, Frae cruel rubs be free, man; Or should a treacherous bias lead Their erring course ajee, man, Some friendly in-ring may they meet, To guide them to the tee, man.

ON THE GREEN SWARD.[88]

TUNE--_"Arniston House."_

On the green sward lay William, in anguish extended, To soothe and to cheer him his Mary stood near him; But despair in the cup of his sorrows was blended, And, inwardly groaning, he wildly exclaim'd--

"Ah! look not so fondly, thou peerless in beauty, Away, I beseech thee, no comfort can reach me; A martyr to love, or a traitor to duty, My pleasure is sorrow, my hope is despair.

"Once the visions of fancy shone bright and attractive, Like distant scenes blooming which sunbeams illumine; Love pointed to wealth, and, no longer inactive, I labour'd till midnight, and rose with the dawn.

"But the day-dreams of pleasure have fled me for ever, Misfortune surrounds me, oppression confounds me; No hope to support, and no friend to deliver, Poor and wretched, alas! I must ever remain.

"And thou, my soul's treasure, whilst pitying my anguish, New poison does mix in my cup of affliction, For honour forbids (though without thee I languish) To make thee a partner of sorrow and want."

"Dear William," she cried, "I 'll no longer deceive thee, I honour thy merit, I love thy proud spirit; Too well thou art tried, and if wealth can relieve thee, My portion is ample--that portion is thine."

[88] Composed in 1804. This song and those following, by Dr Duncan, are here published for the first time.

THE RUTHWELL VOLUNTEERS.[89]

Hark! the martial drums resound, Valiant brothers, welcome all, Crowd the royal standard round, 'Tis your injured country's call.

See, see, the robbers come, Ruin seize the ruthless foe; For your altars, for your homes, Heroes lay the tyrants low!

He whom dastard fears abash, He was born to be a slave-- Let him feel the despot's lash, And sink inglorious to the grave.

See, see, &c.

He who spurns a coward's life, He whose bosom freedom warms, Let him share the glorious strife, We 'll take the hero to our arms.

See, see, &c.

Spirits of the valiant dead, Who fought and bled at Freedom's call, In the path you dared to tread, We, your sons, will stand or fall.

See, see, &c.

Bending from your airy halls, Turn on us a guardian eye-- Lead where Fame or Honour calls, And teach to conquer or to die!

See, see, &c.

[89] Written in 1805, when the nation was in apprehension of the French invasion.

EXILED FAR FROM SCENES OF PLEASURE.[90]

TUNE--_"Blythe, Blythe and Merry was she."_

Exiled far from scenes of pleasure, Love sincere and friendship true, Sad I mark the moon's pale radiance, Trembling in the midnight dew.

Sad and lonely, sad and lonely, Musing on the tints decay, On the maid I love so dearly, And on pleasure's fleeting day.

Bright the moonbeams, when we parted, Mark'd the solemn midnight hour, Clothing with a robe of silver Hill, and dale, and shady bower.

Then our mutual faith we plighted, Vows of true love to repeat, Lonely oft the pale orb watching, At this hour to lovers sweet.

On thy silent face, with fondness, Let me gaze, fair queen of night, For my Annie's tears of sorrow Sparkle in thy soften'd light.