6

Scottish Reformation destroyed wholesale, and the Scottish reformers treated Sport not as a folly but as a crime. Knox, for instance, speaks of the dancing and music at Queen Mary's court in much the same tone in which a Hebrew prophet speaks of idolatry. The raschall multitude,' says he, once (a mode of speaking which ought to puzzle those who fancy that John was a democrat), was stirred up to mak a Robin Hude!' or in .other words, the populace loved the amusements of their ancestors, and the Kirk was determined to put them down. The Kirk did put them down, and has thus affected the whole character of the nation since. For the songs, proverbs, traditions, amusements of the Scottish people indicate that they are a naturally humorous and genial people. Scotland has produced the standard British translation of Rabelais for example, a very significant fact. Her subterranean literature atones for its coarseness by as much fun as that which half excuses the epigrams of Martial. And yet, probably, no southern crosses the Border without feeling for a time that he has got amongst a rigid and severe-minded population. Sydney Smith would only admit that they had wut he did not allow them wit-a curious result of the influence of Presbyterian manners on one far too shrewd not to know that real wit must have flowed in the blood of a race represented at different periods by such men as Scott, Jeffrey, Wilson, Galt, Lockhart, Burns, Wedderburn, Smollett, Henry Erskine, Sir Thomas Urquhart, Archibald Pitcairne, and George Buchanan. Whatever there is of undue harshness in Presbyterianism at this moment is chiefly shown by that part of the nation which is under the influence of the dissenting portion of the Presbyterian body. A milder, more genial and humane, and truly liberal way of looking at life prevails in that venerable establishment, which was graced at one time by the presidency in her Assembly of Buchanan, and at another time by that of Robertson. This feature of her character confirms to her the loyalty of men of letters, who, in another generation, would probably (like so many of their predecessors) have been compelled to look for sympathy in the associations of Jacobitism and Episcopacy.

The application of these remarks to our immediate subject is obvious. The decline of the Scottish feudal poetry was accelerated-was in part directly caused by the severity of the Presbyterianism. But in Scotland, as in England, the new learning had much to do with the neglect of the old traditions. Everywhere, for a time, the scholar seems to have taken precedence of the man of genius; and to this day we know ten times as much of the lives and characters of the Casaubons, Scaligers, and Lipsiuses,

Lipsiuses, as we do of those of the Shakspeares, Spensers, and Cervanteses. No one could wish to disparage the memories of those giants of erudition, to whose labours among the ruins of antiquity we owe so much. We note the fact simply for its significance in literary history; and it is a curious reflection that Casaubon must often have passed bookstalls in London containing the last traces of old poems in a language which he never cared to learnpoems destined to be praised by future scholars for sparks of a genius almost Homeric! Sir Philip Sidney would not have had to apologise for liking 'Chevy Chase' if he had lived to see the great revival of an interest in feudal subjects which has done so much to re-awaken and enrich the mind and heart of Europe during the last century.

To Addison belongs-and it ranks among the pleasantest recollections attached to his memory-the honour of having been the first modern writer who revived the ancient credit of Minstrelsy. In a happy hour, when engaged in his war against false wit, he took up the common vulgar version of Chevy Chase,' and lifted it out of the highways into literature. It must be admitted that he did so with a slight air of patronage, as if the bantling might tumble his ruffles. But it was an act of great courageof a courage as remarkable as the taste which it indicated. Had this old song,' says he, in 'Spectator' No. 74, 'been filled with epigrammatical turns and points of wit, it might perhaps have pleased the wrong taste of some readers, but it would never have become the delight of the common people, nor have warmed the heart of Sir Philip Sidney like the sound of a trumpet. It is only nature that can have this effect.' To estimate the courage required to devote two Spectators to an 'old song,' let us now turn to Johnson's 'Life of Addison' (written, let it be observed, years after the publication of Percy's 'Reliques'), and see how the great Doctor characterises this criticism. 'He descended," says Johnson, now and then to lower disquisitions, and by a serious display of the beauties of "Chevy Chase" exposed himself to the ridicule of Wagstaff, who bestowed a like pompous character on "Tom Thumb," and to the contempt of Dennis,' &c. The 'ridicule of Wagstaff,' however, has passed away as completely as the contempt of Dennis.' But the passage illustrates the rooted and dogmatic classicism which Dr. Johnson represented-great and genial as he was-and shows us what a battle the restorers of ballad literature had to fight. There can be no doubt that Allan Ramsay read the 'Spectator,' and it may not unreasonably be presumed that Nos. 70 and 74 were among the inspirations which made him collect and publish some of the ancient minstrelsy of his own land. England and Scotland have played

Y 2

played into each other's hands often in this way. Buchanan made an impression both on Camden and on Milton. London printed the first edition of the Æneid of Bishop Douglas. The sympathetic, hearty nature of Allan Ramsay-intensely Scottish as he was-made him thoroughly relish the English writers; and we are told of his 'Gentle Shepherd,' that

'Whene'er he drives our sheep to Edinburgh port,

He buys some books of history, sangs, or sport:
Nor does he want of them a rowth at will,
And carries ay a poutchfu' to the hill.

About ane Shakspear, and a famous Ben,

He aften speaks, and ca's them best of men.'

6

The knowledge that such a writer as Addison had declared his sympathy with ancient popular song, could not but have its effect on Allan, who, in 1724, began bringing to light Scottish antiques of the kind in the Evergreen' and 'Tea-Table Miscellany.' It is gratifying to know that he was sometimes seen a few years after this chatting about poetry in his periwig-shop, in the Luckenbooth of Edinburgh, with a little plesant-looking man in a tyewig,' of the name of John Gay. Gay was staying in the neighbourhood with the Duchess of Queensberry, and used to come into town to learn to enjoy the braid Scots' of the Gentle Shepherd' from Ramsay. There were many points of likeness between them, for they were both round, smiling little fellows, of infinite good nature, who combined a genuine vein of poetry with an equally genuine, and somewhat richer, vein of humour. No doubt they turned over the ballads and songs together; and we can easily fancy the relish with which Ramsay-who never forgot, in the midst of his periwigs, his Dalhousie descentwould show his English friend the beauties of the 'Battle of Harlaw,' or the Reidswire Raid,' or the Bonny Earl of Murray. But the national love of arms would hardly, after all, prevail with him over the tenderer feeling with which he would read 'Waly, Waly,' one of the sweetest songs in literature. A breast like Gay's would respond at once to such verses as—

or,

'I leant my back into an aik,

I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bow'd and syne it brak',
Sae my true love did lightly me.'

'Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves aff the tree?
O gentle death, when wilt thou come?
For of my life I am wearie!'

But

But we must not anticipate that view of the general beauties of ballad-poetry which will properly succeed to our narrative of its recovery.

Ramsay, then, takes his place at the head of those modern Scotsmen who have renewed the glory of Scottish minstrelsy. It does not follow, however, that he quite saw the importance of the service which he was rendering to literature; and he certainly treated the texts of the ancients with a freedom which would have been unjustifiable if it had not been inevitable. What the generation wanted was a living pleasure in the ballads; they had not yet come to an antiquarian pleasure in them; while it has been reserved for later times to feel both together-to enjoy them for their own sakes, and for the sake of the knowledge they give us of our ancestors.

From Ramsay we advance to Bishop Percy, whose services to Scottish minstrelsy were only inferior to those which he performed to that of England. He was, indeed, the great modern restorer of the general interest in the whole subject, and it is this which gives him his definite position in literary history. All laud and honour be to the memory of Bishop Percy!' is the enthusiastic exclamation of Mr. Aytoun. We are quite ready to join in the cheer, and all the more so because we fear that a Scottish divine dared not have done so much for such a branch of profane letters.

There is a curious similarity between the positions of Bishop Percy and Sir Walter Scott in their relation to minstrelsy. It was the earliest occupation of both, and one stood, in regard to the family of Northumberland, much as the other did to the family of Buccleugh. Their genius, indeed, admits of no comparison; but their influence has been remarkably alike. Each may well stand as a model of the literary antiquary,-as being in poetic antiquities to Ritson what in genealogy Sir Egerton Brydges was to Dugdale, or what in scholarship Gray was to the old commentators. Such men breathe into their studies the breath of life; and it is only through them and their genius that the labour of the antiquary becomes of value to mankind. 'The mere antiquary,' says Johnson, is a rugged being.' This was a truth of which the amiable, accomplished, but somewhat hasty-tempered Bishop found unpleasantly the force through life.

Sprung from a long line of Percys of Worcester who had good reasons to claim kindred with the old Percys, the editor of the Reliques' went through Oxford with credit, and entered on life with promise. It was in 1765 that he published the 'Reliques,' for which he employed Pepys' Collections' (begun by Selden)

at

at Cambridge, those of Wood at Oxford, but particularly a folio MS.' which he had himself acquired, and which became very famous in the literature of that day. Lord Hailes-then Sir David Dalrymple of Hailes-supplied him with most of his Scottish poems, one of which, Sir Patrick Spens,' must ever be cherished by lovers of song, and which besides its conspicuous beauty is invested with a mystery which gives piquancy to its attractions.

It is curious to see how timidly, how apologetically, Percy commits to the world the work which alone preserves his name:

'The editor hopes he need not be ashamed of having bestowed some of his idle hours on the ancient literature of our own country.' This was not affectation, it was downright terror, and extremely illustrative of those times. There is reason to believe that Percy never got over it, genuine as his love of minstrelsy was; and Dibdin observes, that in his latter years' he almost wished to forget that he had published the "Reliques." The sentiment can be illustrated from various features of his age. Even Warton, who did so much for our antiquities, could explain his pleasure in them on such grounds as the following:

6

• We look back on the savage condition of our ancestors with the triumph of superiority; we are pleased to mark the steps by which we have been raised from rudeness to elegance.'

This tone was wonderfully prevalent, whether the Crusades, or Chivalry, or any other ancient embodiment of the mind and feeling of Europe, happened to be discussed; and in proportion to the diffidence with which Percy advanced any view favourable to mediæval manners was the suffering which he experienced from hostile criticism.

One of the most prominent parts of his work was the essay which he bestowed on the minstrels whose labours, as he conceived, he was communicating to the world. The essay is. written with great propriety of feeling and elegance of style. Naturally, he takes a cheerful view of the question of their condition. An imaginative man, conscious of a deeper love of their works than he cared to express, was of course inclined to picture to himself in the sunniest lights their whole existence-their wanderings from castle to castle, sure of welcome and honourtheir tenderness over the harp-their gaiety over the wine. He knew that the Conqueror's joculator figured in Domesday as a landholder among Beauchamps and Bigods; he knew that the battle of Hastings had been opened by the Norman trouvêre Taillefer, who rode out of the lines singing of Roland till he fell, with cloven Saxons lying about him, and his song was

drowned