to continue to meet once a month in the same house, in the way and manner proposed, and shortly thereafter we chose Robert Ritchie for another member. In May, 1781, we brought in David Sillar, and in June, Adam Jamaison, as members. About the beginning of the year 1782, we admitted Matthew Patterson and John Orr; and, in June following, we chose James Patter son as a proper brother for such a society. The club being thus increased, we resolved to meet at Tarbolton on the race-night, the July following, and have a dance in honour of our society. Ac cordingly we did meet, each one with a partner, and spent the evening in such innocence and mer riment, such cheerfulness and good-humour, that every brother will long remember it with plea sure and delight." To this preamble are subjoined the rules and regulationst.

The philosophical mind will dwell with inte rest and pleasure on an institution that combined so skilfully the means of instruction and of happiness; and if grandeur look down with a smile on these simple annals, let us trust that it will be a smile of benevolence and approbation. It is with regret that the sequel of the history of the Bachelor's Club of Tarbolton must be told. It survived several years after our poet removed from Ayrshire; but, no longer sustained by his talents, or cemented by his social affections, its meetings lost much of their attraction and at length, in an evil hour, dissension arising amongst its members, the institution was given up, and the records committed to the flames. Happily the preamble and the regulations were spared; and, as matter of instruction and of example, they are transmitted to posterity.

After the family of our bard removed from Tarbolton to the neighbourhood of Mauchline,

The person to whom Burns addressed his Epistle to Davie, a brother poet.

+ For which see Appendix, No. II. Note C.
Vol. I.

D

he and his brother were requested to assist in forming a similar institution there. The regula tions of the club at Mauchline were nearly the same as those of the club at Tarbolton, but one laudable alteration was made. The fines for nonattendance had, at Tarbolton, been spent in enlarging their scanty potations. At Mauchline it was fixed that the money so arising, should be set apart for the purchase of books, and the first work procured in this manner was the Mirror, the separate numbers of which were at that time recently collected and published in volumes. Af ter it, followed a number of other works, chiefly of the same nature, and among these the Lounger. The society of Mauchline still subsists, and appeared in the list of subscribers to the first edition of its celebrated associate.

The members of these two societies were originally all young men from the country, and chiefly sons of farmers; a description of persons, in the opinion of our poet, more agreeable in their manners, more virtuous in their conduct, and more susceptible of improvement, than the selfsufficient mechanics of country towns. With deference to the Conversation-society of Mauchline, it may be doubted whether the books which they purchased, were of a kind best adapted to promote the interest and happiness of persons in this situation of life. The Mirror and the Lounger, though works of great merit, may be said, on a general view of their contents, to be less calculated to increase the knowledge, than to refine the saste of those who read them; and to this last object their morality itself, which is, however, always perfectly pure, may be considered as subor dinate. As works of taste they deserve great praise. They are indeed refined to a high degree of delicacy; and to this circumstance it is perhaps owing, that they exhibit little or nothing of the peculiar manners of the age or country in which they were produced. But delicacy of taste, though the source of many pleasures, is not with

out some disadvantages, and to render it desirable, the possessor should perhaps in all cases be raised above the necessity of bodily labour, unless, indeed, we should include under this term the exercise of the imitative arts, over which taste immediately presides. Delicacy of taste may be a blessing to him who has the disposal of his own time, and who can choose what book he shall read, of what diversion he shall partake, and what company he shall keep. To men so situated, the cultivation of taste affords a grateful occupation in itself, and opens a path to many other gratifications. To men of genius in the possession of opulence and leisure, the cultivation of the taste may be said to be essential; since it affords employment to those faculties, which, without employment, would destroy the happiness of the possessor, and corrects that morbid sensibility, or, to use the expression of Mr. Hume, that delicacy of passion, which is the bane of the temperament of genius. Happy had it been for our bard, after he emerged from the condition of a peasant, had the delicacy of his taste equalled the sensibility of his passions, regulating all the effusions of his muse, and presiding over all his social enjoyments. But to the thousands who share the original condition of Burns, and who are doomed to pass their lives in the station in which they were born, delicacy of taste, were it even of easy attainment, would, if not a positive evil, be at least a doubtful blessing. Delicacy of taste may make many neeessary labours irksome or disgusting, and should it render the cultivator of the soil unhappy in his situation, it presents no means by which that situ ation may be improved. Taste and literature, which diffuse so many charms throughout society, which sometimes secure to their votaries distinction while living, and which still more frequently obtain for them posthumous fame, seldom proeure opulence, or even independence, when èultivated with the utmost attention, and can scarcely be pursued with advantage by the peasant in the

short intervals of leisure which his occupations al low. Those who raise themselves from the con dition of daily labour, are usually men who excel in the practice of some useful art, or who join habits of industry and sobriety to an acquaintance with some of the more common branches of knowledge. The penmanship of Butterworth, and the arithmetic of Cocker, may be studied by men in the humblest walks of life, and they will assist the peasant more in the pursuit of indepen dence, than the study of Homer or of Shakepeare, though he could comprehend, and even imitate the beauties of those immortal bards.

These observations are not offered without some portion of doubt and hesitation. The subject has many relations, and would justify an ample discussion. It may be observed, on the other hand, that the first step to improvement is to awaken the desire of improvement, and that this will be most effectually done by such reading as interests the heart and excites the imagination. The greater part of the sacred writings themselves, which, in Scotland, are more especially the manual of the poor, come under this description. It may be farther observed, that every human be ing is the proper judge of his own happiness, and within the path of innocence ought to be permitted to pursue it. Since it is the taste of the Scottish peasantry to give a preference to works of taste and of faney, it may be presumed, they find a superior gratification in the perusal of such works; and it may be added, that it is of more consequence they should be made happy in their original condition, than furnished with the means, or with the desire of rising above it. Such con

In several lists of book-societies among the poorer classes in Scotland, which the editor has seen, works of this description form a great part. These societies are by no means general, and it is not supposed that they are increasing at pre

sent.

siderations are doubtless of much weight; nevertheless, the previous reflections may deserve to be examined, and here we shall leave the subject.

Though the records of the society at Tarbolton are lost, and those of the society at Mauchline have not been transmitted, yet we may safely af firm, that our poet was a distinguished member of both these associations, which were well calculated to excite and to develope the powers of his mind. From seven to twelve persons constituted the society at Tarbolton, and such a number is best suited to the purposes of information. Where this is the object of these societies, the number should be such, that each person may have an opportunity of imparting his sentiments, as well as of receiving those of others; and the powers of private conversation are to be employed, not those of public debate. A limited society of this kind, where the subject of conversation is fixed before hand, so that each member may revolve it previously in his mind, is perhaps one of the happiest contrivances hitherto discovered for shortening the acquisition of knowledge, and hastening the evolution of talents. Such an association requires, indeed, somewhat more of regulation than the rules of politeness establish in common conversation; or rather, perhaps, it requires that the rules of politeness, which, in animated conversation, are liable to perpetual violation, should be vigorously enforced. The order of speech established in the club at Tarbolton, appears to have been more regular than was required in so small a society*; where all that is necessary seems to be, the fixing on a member to whom every speaker shall address himself, and who shall in return secure the speaker from interruption. Conversation, which, among men whom intimacy and friendship have relieved from reserve and restraint, is liable, when left to itself, to so many inequalities, and which, as it becomes rapid, so of

* See Appendix, No. II. Note C.