the moment, I picture out a figure for the gentle tenant of the mansion. I wish,—and my heart swells while I do so—that he were alive, and that I were a great man to have the luxury of visiting him there, and of bidding him be happy."
Three years after Bruce's death, his poems were given to the world by Logan, who unfortunately mingled with them some of his own, and never gave any explanation by which these might be distinguished. This led to a controversy between their respective friends in regard to the authorship of a few pieces, into which it would be unprofitable to enter here, as the fame of Bruce is no way affected whichever way the dispute be decided. The attention of the public having been called to the volume by Lord Craig, in the 36th number of the Mirror, in 1779, a second edition was published in 1784; Dr Anderson gave Bruce's works a place in his Collection of British Poets, and prefixed to them a memoir from which are derived the materials of the present sketch; and, finally, the unwearied benevolence of Principal Baird brought forward an edition, in 1807, by subscription, for the benefit of the poet's mother. He could not restore her son to be the support of her old age, but made all that remained of him contribute to that end—one of the numberless deeds which now reflect honour upon his memory.
Perhaps Bruce's fame as a poet has been injured by the sympathy which his premature death excited, and by the benevolent purpose which recommended the latest edition of his works to public patronage. Pity and benevolence are strong emotions; and the mind is commonly content with one strong emotion at a time; he who purchased a book, that he might promote the comfort of the author's mother, procured for himself, in the mere payment of the price, a pleasure more substantial than could be derived from the contemplation of agreeable ideas; and he would either be satisfied with it and go no farther, or carry it with him into the perusal of the book, the beauties of which would fail to produce the same effect as if they had found his mind unoccupied. But these poems, nevertheless, display talents of the first order. Logan says of them that, "if images of nature that are beautiful and new; if sentiments warm from the heart, interesting and pathetic; if a style chaste with ornament, and elegant with simplicity; if these, and many other beauties of nature and of art, are allowed to constitute true poetic merit, they will stand high in the judgment of men of taste." There is no part of this eulogy overstrained; but perhaps the most remarkable points in the compositions of Bruce, considering his extreme youth, are the grace of his expression and melody of his verses. Flashes of brilliant thought we may look for in opening genius, but we rarely meet with a sustained polish. The reader who glances but casually into these poems will be surprised to find how many of those familiar phrases recommended to universal use by their beauty of thought and felicitous diction—which every one quotes, while no one knows whence they are taken—we owe to Michael Bruce. As to his larger merits, the reader may judge from the union of majesty with tenderness which characterises the Elegy already quoted. The poem of Lochleven affords many passages worthy of higher names; we know not in the compass of English poetry a more beautiful image than is presented in the following lines:
"Behold the village rise
In rural pride, 'mong intermingled trees!
Above whose aged tops the joyful swains,
At eventide descending from the hill,
With eye enamour'd mark the many wreaths
Of pillar'd smoke, high curling to the clouds."
BRUCE, Robert, earl of Carrick, afterwards king of Scots, and the most
