Volume Ii Part 13 (1/2)

In 1827, on the application of Mr Hume, M.P., a treasury donation of one hundred pounds was conferred on Mr Balfour by the premier, Mr Canning, in consideration of his genius. His last novel, ”Highland Mary,” in four volumes, was published shortly before his death. To the last, he contributed to the periodical publications. He died, after an illness of about two weeks' duration, on the 12th September 1829, in the sixty-third year of his age.

Though confined to his wheel-chair for a period of ten years, and otherwise debarred many of the comforts to which, in more prosperous circ.u.mstances, he had been accustomed, Alexander Balfour retained to the close of life his native placidity and gentleness. His countenance wore a perpetual smile. He joined in the amus.e.m.e.nts of the young, and took delight in the recital of the merry tale and humorous anecdote. His speech, somewhat affected by his complaint, became pleasant from the heartiness of his observations. He was an affectionate husband, and a devoted parent; his habits were strictly temperate, and he was influenced by a devout reverence for religion. A posthumous volume of his writings, under the t.i.tle of ”Weeds and Wild-flowers,” was published under the editorial care of Mr D. M. Moir, who has prefixed an interesting memoir. As a lyrical poet, he is not ent.i.tled to a first place; his songs are, however, to be remarked for deep and genuine pathos.

THE BONNY La.s.s O' LEVEN WATER.

Though siller Tweed rin o'er the lea, An' dark the Dee 'mang Highland heather, Yet siller Tweed an' drumly Dee Are not sae dear as Leven Water: When Nature form'd our favourite isle, An' a' her sweets began to scatter, She look'd with fond approving smile, Alang the banks o' Leven Water.

On flowery braes, at gloamin' gray, 'Tis sweet to scent the primrose springin'; Or through the woodlands green to stray, In ilka buss the mavis singin': But sweeter than the woodlands green, Or primrose painted fair by Nature, Is she wha smiles, a rural queen, The bonny la.s.s o' Leven Water!

The sunbeam in the siller dew, That hangs upon the hawthorn's blossom, s.h.i.+nes faint beside her e'en sae blue; An' purer is her spotless bosom.

Her smile wad thaw a hermit's breast; There 's love an' truth in ilka feature; For her I 'm past baith wark an' rest, The bonny la.s.s o' Leven Water!

But I 'm a lad o' laigh degree, Her purse-proud daddy 's dour an' saucy; An' sair the carle wad scowl on me, For speakin' to his dawt.i.t la.s.sie: But were I laird o' Leven's glen, An' she a humble shepherd's daughter, I 'd kneel, an' court her for my ain, The bonny la.s.s o' Leven Water!

SLIGHTED LOVE.

The rosebud blus.h.i.+ng to the morn, The sna'-white flower that scents the thorn, When on thy gentle bosom worn, Were ne'er sae fair as thee, Mary!

How blest was I, a little while, To deem that bosom free frae guile; When, fondly sighing, thou wouldst smile; Yes, sweetly smile on me, Mary!

Though gear was scant, an' friends were few, My heart was leal, my love was true; I blest your e'en of heavenly blue, That glanced sae saft on me, Mary!

But wealth has won your heart frae me; Yet I maun ever think of thee; May a' the bliss that gowd can gie, For ever wait on thee, Mary!

For me, nae mair on earth I crave, But that yon drooping willow wave Its branches o'er my early grave, Forgot by love, an' thee, Mary!

An' when that hallow'd spot you tread, Where wild-flowers bloom above my head, O look not on my gra.s.sy bed, Lest thou shouldst sigh for me, Mary!

GEORGE MACINDOE.

George Macindoe, chiefly known as the author of ”A Million o' Potatoes,”

a humorous ballad, in the Scottish language, was born at Partick, near Glasgow, in 1771. He originally followed the occupation of a silk-weaver, in Paisley, which he early relinquished for the less irksome duties of a hotel-keeper in Glasgow. His hotel was a corner tenement, at the head of King Street, near St Giles' Church, Trongate; and here a club of young men, with which the poet Campbell was connected, were in the habit of holding weekly meetings. Campbell made a practice of retiring from the noisy society of the club to spend the remainder of the evenings in conversation with the intelligent host.

After conducting the business of hotel-keeper in Glasgow, during a period of twenty-one years, Macindoe became insolvent, and was necessitated to abandon the concern. He returned to Paisley and resumed the loom, at the same time adding to his finances by keeping a small change-house, and taking part as an instrumental musician at the local concerts. He excelled in the use of the violin. Ingenious as a mechanic, and skilled in his original employment, he invented a machine for figuring on muslin, for which he received premiums from the City Corporation of Glasgow and the Board of Trustees.

Macindoe was possessed of a lively temperament, and his conversation sparkled with wit and anecdote. His person was handsome, and his open manly countenance was adorned with bushy locks, which in old age, becoming snowy white, imparted to him a singularly venerable aspect. He claimed no merit as a poet, and only professed to be the writer of ”incidental rhymes.” In 1805, he published, in a thin duodecimo volume, ”Poems and Songs, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect,” which he states, in the preface, he had laid before the public to gratify ”the solicitations of friends.” Of the compositions contained in this volume, the ballad ent.i.tled ”A Million o' Potatoes,” and the two songs which we have selected for this work, are alone worthy of preservation. In 1813, he published a second volume of poems and songs, ent.i.tled ”The Wandering Muse;” and he occasionally contributed lyrics to the local periodicals.

He died at Glasgow, on the 19th April 1848, in his seventy-seventh year, leaving a numerous family. His remains were interred at Anderston, Glasgow. The following remarks, regarding Macindoe's songs, have been kindly supplied by Mr Robert Chambers:--

”Amidst George Macindoe's songs are two distinguished by more clearness and less vulgarity than the rest. One of these, called 'The Burn Trout,' was composed on a real incident which it describes, namely, a supper, where the chief dish was a salmon, brought from Peebles to Glasgow by my father,[69] who, when learning his business, as a manufacturer, in the western city, about the end of the century, had formed an acquaintance with the poet. The other, ent.i.tled 'Cheese and Whisky,'