Would she put on this garment gay, WILLIAM DUNBAR. This wavering warld's wretchedness For to consider is ane pain. The sliding joy, the gladness short, For to consider is ane pain. allegorical poems are the Thistle and the Rose (a triumphant nuptial song for the union of James and the Princess Margaret), the Dance, and the Golden Terge; but allegory abounds in many others, which do not strictly fall within this class. Perhaps the most remarkable of all his poems is one of those WILLIAM DUNBAR, "a poet," says Sir Waltersion of the seven deadly sins in the infernal regions, here enumerated, the Dance. It describes a procesScott, "unrivalled by any that Scotland has ever and for strength and vividness of painting, would produced," flourished at the court of James IV., at stand a comparison with any poem in the language. the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the six- The most solemn and impressive of the more exteenth centuries. His works, with the exception of one or two pieces, were confined, for above two cenclusively moral poems of Dunbar, is one in which he turies, to an obscure manuscript, from which they represents a thrush and nightingale taking opposite were only rescued when their language had become sides in a debate on earthly and spiritual affections, so antiquated, as to render the world insensible in a recommendation of "a lusty life in Love's service," the thrush ending every speech or stanza with a great measure to their many excellencies. To no other circumstance can we attribute the little justice that and the nightingale with the more melodious declais done by popular fame to this highly-gifted poet. There is, however, something more touching to comration, "All Love is lost but upon God alone." who was alike master of every kind of verse, the solemn, the descriptive, the sublime, the comic, and mon feelings in the less laboured verses in which he the satirical. Having received his education at the moralises on the brevity of existence, the shortness university of St Andrews, where, in 1479, he took and uncertainty of all ordinary enjoyments, and the the degree of master of arts, Dunbar became a friar wickedness and woes of mankind. of the Franciscan order (Grey Friars), in which capacity he travelled for some years not only in Scotland, but also in England and France, preaching, as was the custom of the order, and living by the alms of the pious, a mode of life which he himself acknowledges to have involved a constant exercise of falsehood, deceit, and flattery. In time, he had the grace, or was enabled by circumstances, to renounce this sordid profession. It is supposed, from various allusions in his writings, that, from about the year 1491 to 1500, he was occasionally employed by the king (James IV.) in some subordinate, but not unimportant capacity, in connexion with various foreign embassies, and that he thus visited Germany, Italy, Spain, and France, besides England and Ireland. He could not, in such a life, fail to acquire much of that knowledge of mankind which forms so important a part of the education of the poet. In 1500, he received from the king a pension of ten pounds, afterwards increased to twenty, and finally to eighty. He is supposed to have been employed He is, at the same time, by no means disposed habituby James in some of the negotiations preparatory to ally to take gloomy or desponding views of life. He his marriage with the Princess Margaret, daughter has one poem, of which each stanza ends with "For of Henry VII., which took place in 1503. For some to be blyth methink it best." In another, he advises, years ensuing, he seems to have lived at court, re- since life is so uncertain, that the good things of this galing his royal master with his poetical composi-world should be rationally enjoyed while it is yet tions, and probably also his conversation, the charms of which, judging from his writings, must have been very great. It is sad to relate of one who possessed so buoyant and mirthful a spirit, that his life was not, as far as we can judge, a happy one. He appears to have repined greatly at the servile courtlife which he was condemned to lead, and to have longed anxiously for some independent source of income. Amongst his poems, are many containing nothing but expressions of solicitude on this subject. He survived the year 1517, and is supposed to have died about 1520, at the age of sixty; but whether he ultimately succeeded in obtaining preferment, is not known. His writings, with scarcely any exception, remained in the obscurity of manuscript till the beginning of the last century; but his fame has been gradually rising since then, and it was at length, in 1834, so great as to justify a complete edition of his works, by Mr David Laing. The poems of Dunbar may be said to be of three classes, the Allegorical, the Moral, and the Comic; besides which there is a vast number of productions composed on occasions affecting himself, and which may therefore be called personal poems. His chief Or, The suggared mouths, with minds therefra, in another poem Evermair unto this warld's joy, His very heir, succeedés Pain. possible. "Thine awn gude spend," says he, "while thou has space." There is yet another, in which these Horatian maxims are still more pointedly enforced, and from this we shall select a few stanzas :— Be merry, man, and tak not sair in mind The wavering of this wretched world of sorrow ; For oft with wise men it has been said aforow, Make thee gude cheer of it that God thee sends, For warld's wrak but welfare3 nought avails; Wherefore of comfort set up all thy sails; 1 Delay. 2 Snare. 3 World's trash without health. 4 Injuries. Follow on pity, flee trouble and debate, For trouble in earth tak no melancholy; The philosophy of these lines is excellent. The Merle and Nightingale. In May, as that Aurora did upspring, Under this branch ran down a river bright, Ne'er sweeter noise was heard with living man, Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale; Cease, quoth the Merle, thy preaching, Nightingale : Of young sanctís, grows auld feindís, but fable ; The Nightingale said, Fool, remember thee, 1 Age. And died himself, fro' dead him to succour ; And love is lost but upon him alone. The Merle said, Why put God so great beauty O Nightingale ! it were a story nice, God bade eke love thy neighbour fro the spleen ;2 A lusty life in Lovis service been. The Nightingale said, Bird, why does thou rave? 3 The Merle said, Love is cause of honour aye, The Nightingale said, True is the contrary; Then said the Merle, Mine error I confess : Then sang they both with voices loud and clear, Then flew thir birdis o'er the boughis sheen, To think how sung this Merle and Nightingale ; The Dance.* Of Februar the fifteenth nicht, I lay intill a trance; And then I saw baith heaven and hell: Methocht amangs the fiendis fell, Mahoun gart cry ane Dance Of shrewis that were never shriven,3 Agains the fast of Fastern's Even,+ To mak their observance; He bade gallands gae graith a guise,5 And cast up gamonds in the skies, As varlots does in France. Heillie 7 harlots, haughten-wise, 8 But yet leuch never Mahoun; While preests came in with bare shaven necks, Then all the fiends leuch and made gecks, Black-belly and Bausy-broun.9 Let see, quoth he, who now begins. Begoud to leap at anes. And first in all the Dance was PRIDE, His kethat12 for the nanes.13 Then IRE came in with sturt and strife; He brandished like a bear, All boden in 'feir of weir,14 In jacks, and scrips, and bonnets of steel; Some upon other with brands beft,15 With knives that sharp could shear. 1 Whose close disputation yet moved my thoughts. 2 The Devil. 3 Accursed men, who had never been absolved in the other world. 4 The eve of Lent. Gambols. 7 Proud. 5 Prepare a masque. 8 Haughtily. 9 The names of popular spirits in Scotland. 10 Something touching puffed up manners appears to be hinted at in this obscure line. 11 Large folds. 12 Robe. 13 For the occasion. 14 Arrayed in the accoutrements of war. 15 Gave blows. *"Dunbar is a poet of a high order. ** His Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins, though it would be absurd to compare it with the beauty and refinement of the celebrated Ode on the Passions, has yet an animated picturesqueness not unlike that of Collins. The effect of both pieces shows how much more potent allegorical figures become, by being made to fleet suddenly before the imagination, than by being detained in its view by prolonged description. Dunbar conjures up the personified sins, as Collins does the passions, to rise, to strike, to disappear. They come like shadows, so depart.'"-CAMP BELL. Next him in Dance came COVETICE, Full sleepy was his grunyie ;7 Ever lashed them on the lunyie :11 In dance they were sae slaw of feet, They gave them in the fire a heat, And made them quicker of counyie.12 * Then the foul monster GLUTTONY, To dance he did him dress: Full mony a waistful wally-drag, * Nae menstrals playit to them, but doubt, And entered by brief of richt. By he the coronach had done shout, In hell great room they took: The Devil sae deavit was with their yell, That in the deepest pot of hell, He smoorit them with smook. Tidings fra the Session. [A conversation between two rustics, designed to satirise the proceedings in the supreme civil law court of Scotland.] Ane muirland man, of upland mak, I tell you under this confession, I come of Edinburgh fra the Session. Is na man there that trusts another : Of innocent folk preveens a futher :2 That has his mind all on oppression; Wad look full heigh were not the Session. How feid and favour flemis? discretion; Sic tidings heard I at the Session. Some castis summons, and some excepts ; Some is put out of his possession ; Some goes to gallows with procession; Comes there to woo and see fair faces; And are unmindful of their profession, The younger at the elder leers: Sic tidings heard I at the Session. Of Discretion in Giving. To speak of gifts and almos deeds: Some gives on prattick for supplie; Some gives for thank, and some for threat; That ere the gift delivered be, And for a hood-pick halden is he, Then vice and prodigalitie, And, though the poor for fault2 sould die, In Giving sould Discretion be. Some gives to strangers with faces new, And to auld servants list not see, In Giving sould Discretion be. Though all the contrair weel knaws he; In Giving sould Discretion be. The people to teach and to o'ersee, Some takes o'er little authoritie, Suppose the devil tak all their sauls : Barons taks fra the tenants puir In mails and gersoms raisit o'er hie; Some merchands taks unleesomel wine, In Taking sould Discretion be Some taks other mennis tacks,2 And never remembers that he maun die, Till that the gallows gars him rax :3 In Taking sould Discretion be. Some taks by sea, and some by land, And syne they gar him understand, In Taking sould Discretion be. Some wald tak all his neighbour's gear; Had he of man as little fear As he has dread that God him see; To tak then sould he never forbear: In Taking sould Discretion be. Some wald tak all this warld on breid ;4 Through heart unsatiable and greedie; Great men for taking and oppression, And puir takers are hangit hie, In Taking sould Discretion be. pying a prominent place in the history of his country, he died of the plague in London in the year 1522. Douglas shines as an allegorical and descriptive poet. He wants the vigorous sense, and also the graphic force, of Dunbar; while the latter is always close and nervous, Douglas is soft and verbose. The genius of Dunbar is so powerful, that manner sinks beneath it; that of Douglas is so much matter of culture, that manner is its most striking peculiarity. This manner is essentially scholarly. He employs an immense number of words derived from the Latin, as yet comparatively a novelty in English composition. And even his descriptions of nature involve many ideas, very beautiful in themselves, and very beautifully expressed, but inappropriate to the situation, and obviously introduced merely in accordance with literary fashion. The principal original composition of Douglas is a long poem, entitled The Palace of Honour. It was designed as an apologue for the conduct of a king. and therefore addressed to James IV. The poet represents himself as seeing, in a vision, a large company travelling towards the Palace of Honour. He joins them, and narrates the particulars of the pilgrimage. The well-known Pilgrim's Progress bears so strong a resemblance to this poem, that Bunyan could scarcely have been ignorant of it. King Hart, the only other long poem of Douglas, presents a metaphorical view of human life. But the most remarkable production of this author was a translation of Virgil's Eneid into Scottish verse, which he executed in the year 1513, being the first version of a Latin classic into any British tongue. It is generally allowed to be a masterly performance, though in too obsolete a language ever to regain its popularity. The original poems, styled prologues, which the translator affixes to each book, are esteemed amongst his happiest pieces. [Apostrophe to Honour.] (Original Spelling.) O hie honour, sweit heuinlie flour digest, [Morning in May.*] As fresh Aurore, to mighty Tithon spouse, In cram'sy clad and grained violate, Spread all with roses, and full of balm royal, And eke the heavenly portis chrystalline Unwarps braid, the warld till illumine; The twinkling streamers of the orient Shed purpour spraings, with gold and azure ment;5 Eous, the steed, with ruby harness red, Above the seas liftis furth his head, Of colour sore,6 and somedeal brown as berry, For to alichten and glad our emispery; The flame out-bursten at the neisthirls,7 |