7a THE NATIONAL RrGisTRR it suits the sterling prophetic lines which precedes it. The Poet - then breaks up like the rising sun, which he describes to lighten, and warm as he goes. After soaring 418 three . ° verses, dictated - by the paroxysm of inspiration, he looks down and sees that he wilt out-soar the reach of criticism s and get beyond.the concep tion of mortal thoughtsso 'Plump down be drops, angry it would seem to be chastened 14 earthly opinii,n, for he archly describes the good people of 4;ttiniTh . fries !pending their tattered raiment and tacking together the fragments of their riven hose. This must be the Paces art, for be ,knOws the plain Presbyte rian townsmen of Dumfries hold'veracity dear, and their reli pious reatittsde would scruple at being arrayed in the silver and gold tasseled putt of heathenish poesie. But the chasteness of his muse seems to be alarmed at the rent breeches of his gathering townsmen; the Poet's heart is touched too with the delineation he has given, and in a few moments they are robed, not in the sunshiny dimel of poetic weaving, but in good broadcloth apparel, " so trim and gay." This variation in the Poet I call one of those master-strokes of poetic skill which. the reader will find are pretty frequent. He eonurtits trespass against historic truths, merely to fly low enough for our prose-conceiving minds to reach him. The design of the Poem now opens by describing the order Mid warlike array of his motley townsmen. Next to the burning Sun of Heaven, himself, marches "James M'Noe," .the town drummer;--,lamas, if we may credit tradition, had a goodly rase, avid red as a burning ploughshare. He is here brought in with much propriety, flaming at their head like the pillar of fire before the seed of Israel. When he beats his drum, children gotten and ungotten feel their hearts uprousing at the sound— forth leap the trades, rushing like cattle into line at the sound of music. On all sides pour along the peasantry, anxious to be. hold the dekntention of these greasy children of the Corpora. tons. Much has Homer been praised for the muster-roll of his Trey-snbduing Greeks. This has made critics believe he was Serjeant-Major to Agamemnon—but his review seems the lan guage of a puppet-show-man, when compared to the catalogue of " John' Mayne." And, let Mt say it, Achille3, who crept off Trojan's heads like a mower of thistles, would have turned his spear-staff into a shepherd's crook, had he bt.!.eld the sturdy convener of the Poet's townsmen ;--figure to yourselves a brawny blacksmith, starting like a Cyclops from his fiery den, to marshal his grimy complexioned craftsmen ; behold his many-aproned followers moving behind him, with the rusty iron weapons of feudal warfare dangling over their shoulders.— But, 0! how can I describe the brawny barelegged nymphs of Nithsdale and Galloway, stretching their white arms from their plaids, and waving back their curling uncombed locks from their blue or hazel eyes. 0 John Mayne thou seeme6t to have held acquaintance with Heaven, when woman's heart lay fashioning in its hands ! Canto Second opent•with the craftsmen's march to their min strelsy, of squeaking fie.dles and snuffling bagpipes. 0 Brown, /knee, and Dingwall —pawn your fiddles, and pledge your bagpipes—drink, drink, your ftrne is now secured! In the Third Canto the Poetrkes like Milton's Satan, " up springing like a prainid of fire!" He sheds isroud insuffirable light, making the darkness of other Poets become more visible, Purnatnik . kerns belor him zia*.niole:hill; and he disdains to touch' lt, like'the disie of 2 , T . 0a1i, even with his foot. But he stretclia Oat his ciiiijureAmAtiid, and Id! 'a new Parnassus wedi its top to Head; 04i 'helicon comes sounding from its summit. 04 Itst4staisAlt our adventurisgs Bard, oglening anew the ancient" itttetcourse between mortals 'and divinit y . The Moses kneel at kit feet, seeking emPloynient ; and Apolki re-; tires, tenting' Ms' golden lock's" because a mortat has unthrOned iron. The Poet looks calinlydoiin, eonscidt3 he haisoired the utmost btiunds of inspiration ; he beholds the bugtling children of a day playing below his feef. Pitying these degenerate sons we kitt Admits Llagta again into 114 song, and caste around them his superior light. Fang that you see the Bard descending from his hill, aad throwing aside his Parnassian mantle aad sandals, joining in the dance, and wooing the Lasses of Nithsdale with those very lips yet warm with the breath of the sacred Nine ! The Fourth and last Canto collects the straggters of the eldfi, and marshals them under the redoubted conveener Tamson. This personage, whom the Poet owns he loves, for allowing him to be familiar with his hammers and rasps, places at his side the winner of the " filler Gun," who bears the trophy' at his hat, or thou " tube," or 46 trinket," or " whistle," for the Poet calls it by all these names. To this noble Poem notes arc affixed, which are akin to the Poetry, and may, with much propriety, be called y.,,pisodes.— Notes are like the postscripts to ladies letters, they let us far ther into the heart and mind of the author than the Poem itself can be expected to do. Some high minded bards have un blushingly sung their certainty of poetic immortality, but John Mayne only in plain prose, and by certain mysterious hints, modestly proclaims his claims to rhyming infallibility. And now, Dumfries, lift up thy head proudly above all the cities of the plain. Thebes, with her hundred gates ; Troy, whose walls were built by Jupiter's masons—.where Venus and Apollo carried mortar; or, the Temple of Jerusalem itself, where the clink of mortal hammer never sounded, what were they to thee ; thy narrow streets, and thy unsorted irregular buildings, when sung by John Mayne, make all the temples and palaces of Heathenism sink into a dirty .Presbyterian Kirk eroue.hing at the side of a Roman Abbey. Happy art thou Dumfries, happiest of all the towns or cities in the world. In thee was a poet born, who has wedded thee to unperishable honour, who has sung the. ; citizens in strains which the teeth of time may gnaw at in vain. Take up thy trumpet Fame and route it, . Till thy brass lungs crack wi' the tout 'ot." My Scotish heart is leaping at the thought, and my mind feels pregnant with futurity, like the wild ravings of sybillic prophecy. The seer's spirit is upon me, and I gaze throp,gh the dim vista of two thousand future years. . Dumfries is in ruins--her gardens are wildernesses, and. the silver looping Nith, with her fair harbour, is choked, like the Trojan Scamander, with a spadeful crf earth.—Behold there ,Are Pilgrims from the four winds of Heaven, sitting among her ruins, with the Poem of John Mayne in their hands, saying—#. let us explore the ruins—let us examine the desolate place. Here stood the anvil of Conveener Tamson, and here did his hammer sound ! Here is the glorious river Nith, where the l'oet plied the fish-rod when he played truant from school. Apollo, jealous of its fame, has scorched up its fountains, and burned its waters dry. Down this ruin paved street sounded the ivory virled bagpipes of John Brown, the Lochniaben pip“ and here stood the accursed stocks wherein Apollo's tutor, John Ditigwall, was put for drinking on Sunday. But what high pillar is that which ruin has not dared to toucht its top.is an ; ass rampant, with wings put on its hips, treading in a flood of fire. Apollo is holding the stirrup, while a figure, excelling.the God in accomplished proportion, is mounted and managing the steed; let us translate these lettere of gold below the statue—. " To the Bard of tie Shier Gun. " This Column is erected by kis grateful Toun4me-n, .181,(1." •• • • .;J ii(i Sir J. Bransconib and Co. 1. Sivewright, Sole Surtiving Part ner, are happy to announce the New Plan of the State I.ettitry; to be drawn 15th February, 1811, will remove every objection ;. that has hithtrto been stated. There are more . Capital Prizes, and each will now be of different Numbers, and there are none less than 201. They trust their :tincornmungood,rune will ' ever attend their Friends the Public, having solsl 4.44 4 a5t , r , year ALONE, six prizes of 20,0001.; fOrty of 5001. up to 10;0001. the first 30,0001.; the last 9.6,0001.; the only 40,0001.; and s4ve- ral Prizes of 100, .500, and 1,000 'ficir.eta,. wbich last produceV 514,7651.; and others too great to enumerate, at their Offweapr. • Cornliill, .3j3, Haymarket, 11, tiolborn. ~_