The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume III | Page 2

epigrams--epigrams on everything
on the face of the earth. These have been collected into the "Greek
Anthology;" but the greater part of them are contemptible in a poetic
point of view. They are interesting as throwing light on the times; but
they are weak and vapid as expressions of the beatings of the human
heart, and they are full of conceits. Besides these, there are the
Anacreontic odes, known to all Greek scholars and to a great number of
English, since they have been frequently translated. With one or two
exceptions, they were all written between the third and twelfth
centuries of the Christian era, though some scholars have boldly
asserted that they were forgeries even of a later date. Most of them
seem to be expansions of lines of Anacreon. They are in general neat,
pretty, and gaysome, but tame and insincere. There is nothing like
earnestness in them, nothing like genuine deep feeling; but thus they
are all the more suited for a certain class of lovers and drinkers, who do
not wish to be greatly moved by anything under the sun.
Scotch lyric poetry may be said to commence with the lyrics attributed
to James I., or with those of Henryson. There is clear proof, indeed, that
long before this time the Scotch were much given to song-making and
song-singing; but of these early popular lilts, almost nothing remains.
Henryson's lyrics, however, belonged more to the class that were
intended to be read than to be sung, and this is true of a considerable
number of his successors, such as Dunbar, and Maitland of Lethington,
who were learned men, and wrote with a learned air, even when writing

for the people. The Reformation, as surely as it threw down every
carved stone, shut up the mouth of every profane songster.
Wedderburne's "Haly Ballats" may have been spared for a time by the
iconoclasts, because they had helped to build up their own temple; but
they could not survive long,--they were cast in a profane mould, they
were sung to profane tunes, and away they must go into oblivion. Our
song-writers, for a long time after, are unknown minstrels, who had no
character to lose by making or singing profane songs,--they were of the
people, and sang for them. So matters continued, until, at the
commencement of the eighteenth century, Scottish songs began to be
the rage both in England and Scotland, and an eager desire arose to
gather up old snatches and preserve them. Henceforth Scotch poetry
held up its head, and a few remarkable poets won their way into the
hearts of large masses of the people. At last appeared the emancipator
of Scottish song in the form of a ploughman, stirring the deepest
feelings of all classes with songs that may be justly styled the best of all
national popular songs, and for ever settling the claims of a song-writer
to one of the highest niches in the temple of Fame.
The first thing that strikes us, on dipping into a book of Greek songs,
and then a book of Scotch, is the different position of the poets. The
Greek poet was regarded as a kind of superior being--an interpreter
between gods and men; and, supposed to be under the special
protection of Divinity, he was highly honoured and reverenced
wherever he went. The Scotch bard, on the other hand, is a poor
wanderer, whose name is unknown, who received little respect, and
whose knowledge of God and the higher purposes of life cannot be
reckoned in any way great. There may be a few exceptions. We find
nobles sometimes writing popular songs, and occasionally a learned
man may have contributed strains; but these are generally not superior
either in wit, pathos, or morality, to the verses of the unknown and
hard-toiling. This striking contrast arises from a change that had taken
place in the history of song. In Greece, all the teeming ideas of the
fertile-minded people found expression in harmonious measures, and
their songs touched every chord of their varied existence. This was
partly owing to their innate love of melody, and partly to the public life
which they led. From the earliest ages, they were fond of sweet sounds;

and their continual public gatherings gave innumerable opportunities
for using their vocal powers unitedly, and turning music to all its best
and noblest purposes. They sang sacred songs as they marched in
procession to their temples; and on entering, they hymned the praises of
the gods. When they rushed on to battle, they shouted their inspiring
war-songs; and if victory crowned the fight, the battle-field rang with
their joyous pæans, and their poets tuned their lyres in honour of the
brave that had fallen. A victor in the Olympic games would have lost
one of