The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction | Page 4

his own words, "between the late and the early, in a gude way,
for the first time."--Such was the birth-night of the poet.
How long Thomas Reid remained in the service of William Burns does
not appear. It is certain, however, that he was with him when Robert
first went to plough, as Thomas has repeatedly told, as an instance of

Burns's early addiction to reading, that he has seen him go to, and
return from plough, with a book in his hand, and at meal-times
"_supping his parritch_" with one hand and holding the book in the
other.
It would appear that he had, in process of time, got better acquainted
with his sweetheart at Maybole Fair, for he married her. It was on this
occasion that he rented the Shanter farm, which, with the assistance of
his father-in-law, he stocked and furnished. But fortune went against
him:
"His cattle died, and blighted was his corn;"
and an unfortunate friend, for whom he had become security for
150_l._, failed. Under such a load of ill, he, like many others, sought
for consolation in the "yill cups;" and any errand which served as a
pretext to visit the town of Ayr, renewed his worship to the "inspiring,
bold John Barleycorn;" and he usually returned, like the Laird of
Snotterston,
"O'er a' the ills o' life victorious."
But Thomas had many a domestic squabble. His wife, naturally not of
the sweetest temper, was doubly soured by the misfortunes of the world,
and the dissipation of her helpmate; and often when Tam
"Was gettin' fu' and unco happy,"
she sat at home,
"Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it
warm."
She, like too many in that district at that time, was very superstitious.
Thomas took her by the weak side, and usually arrested her "light-horse
gallop of clish ma-claver" by some specious story of ghost or
hobgoblin adventures, with which he had been detained.

He had now got into such a continued state of dissipation and
irregularity, that he was obliged to leave the farm to the mercy of his
creditors, and opened a small public-house, at the end of the old bridge
on the water of Doon. It was while he was here that Tam O'Shanter
made its appearance. A manuscript copy was sent to Thomas, by post,
with this motto--
Change the name, and the Story may be told of yourself.
The celebrity of the poem brought numbers to his house, and he sold a
great deal. But his spirit could not brook the brutal taunts and jeers
which every day he was obliged to bear from his customers. He left off
business, and commenced labourer, at which he continued till he got an
offer of a situation as overseer of hedges, on the large estate of Castle
Semple, at that time belonging to William M'Dowall, Esq., M.P. for
Renfrewshire, which he accepted. With short intervals, he remained
there till the day of his death. He was of such a character, that he
considered no man, or class of men, his superior, and no man his
inferior.
Feeling the infirmities of old age approach, Mr. Harvey placed him at
his west gate, as gate-keeper, where he fell into a lingering disease,
which soon put a period to his mortal career. As he had no friends nor
relations (his wife having died about two years before) Thomas had
never cared for to-morrow: he was destitute of the means to support
himself during his illness. The night before he died, he called for a
half-mutchkin of whisky; and (as an acquaintance of his sat by his
bed-side, and who personally informed me) he, taking a glass of it in
his hand, held it between him and the light, and eyed it for some time
with a peculiarly exhilarated expression of countenance, even at such a
crisis;--then, while pleasure sparkled in his eyes, he took his friend by
the hand, and pressing it warmly, exclaimed, "This is the last whisky I,
in all probability, will ever drink, and many and often is the times I
have felt its power. Here's to thee, Jamie, and may thou never want a
drap when thou art dry!" He died the next morning, about eight o'clock.
J.R.S.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH-BOOK.
* * * * *
RECOLLECTIONS OF A WANDERER. NO. V.
_Dawlish's Hole:--An Incident._
The eye looked out upon the watery world-- With fearful glance looked
east and west, but all Was wild and solitary, and the surge Dashed on
the groaning cliff, and foaming rose And roared, as 'twere triumphing.
N.T. CARRINGTON.
The coast scene near Landwithiel[3] was of so varied and interesting a
character that I was irresistibly led on to examine it very fully in detail.
My