OBSERVATIONS ON

ALLAN RAMSAY's GENTLE SHEPHERD.

Act I.

Our poet's prologue at once preposseses us in his favour. Can any thing he more engaging and descriptive than the following lines?—

"Beneath the south-side of a craigy bield, Where crystal springs their halesome waters yield; I wa youthfu' shepherds in the gowans lay, Tending their flocks a'e bonny morn of May!" How impressive is Patie's exclamation, when he says

"This sunny morning, Robert, cheers my blood,
And puts a nature in a jovial mood.

How heartsome is't to see the rising plants,
To hear the birds chirm o'er their pleasing rants!"
Roger's answer is tainted with philosophy-

"Sae might I say, but its no easy done
By ane whose souls sae sadly out of tune.'

Patie's observation, that—

"

"A mind thats scrimpt ne'er wants some care,*

is founded on truth-again

"He that has just enough can soundly sleep; The o'ercome only fashes fowk to keep"

at once defines the absurdity of avarice, and displays the beauty of competence in livelier colours than the bewildering doctrine of volumes.

Roger's simple confession is truly characteristic of the little artifice so bashfully practised by village lovers. Sure it is, that this all-powerful passion is no where to be found, in its genuine nature, but in rural retreats, where innocence still takes delight to dwell.

Patie's advice to Roger evinces a knowledge of the human character: and this, with the song that follows, speaks indeed the language of the female heart.

There is in those amiable shepherds a frankness we cannot help admiring, and when they make respective presents, we feel a kindly vibration thrilling as it were in our bosoms. The poet must have been well acquainted with the impulses of friendship; otherwise he would not have represented the two swains as feeling a glowing inclination to offer tokens of this cementing principle.

Prologue I,

"A flowrie lawne between twa verdant braes, Where lasses used to wash and spread their cloes, A trotting burnie whimpling through the ground, Its channels pebbles shining smooth and round." This imagery is simple, just, and highly picturesque. Our attention is powerfully attracted by rustic simplicity, and soon are we endeared to the two rural nymphs. Even at first acquaintance with Peggy, our very heart is interested, and feels a warm anxiety for her happiO! how soon her innocence and frankness of heart evinces itself:

ness.

"And when the day grows hot, will to the pool,
There wash ourselves-its healthful now in May,
And sweetly cauler on sae warm a day.”
Jenny's reply is very natural and pleasing-

"Daft lassie, when we're naked, what'll ye say, Gif our twa herds come brattling down the brae, And see us sae? That jeering fellow, Pate, Wad taunting say, haith, lasses, ye're no blate." In the whole, this dialogue between Peggy and Jenny, is replete with jocular sentiment, and, if we mistake not, expresses the young maiden's thoughts not as they appear, but as they really are. Peggy's · vindication of the marriage-state is lively and sweetly persuasive. She pictures the joys accompanying it with an artless ingenuity, and with firmness shews Jenny the misery so connected with celibacy. It must, nevertheless, be admitted Jenny's fears are too well grounded.-Ah! this deplorable picture is too, too frequently realised

"But poortith Peggy is the worst of a',

Gif o'er your heads ill chance should begg'ary draw,
But little love, or canty chur aun come,
Frae a'u'a'y doublet, and a pantry toom.
Your nowt may dic, the spate may bear away
Trae off the howms, your wainty rucks of hay,
The thick blawn wreaths of snow, or blushy thaws
May smour your weathers, or may rot your ewes.
A dyvour buys your butter, evov, and cheese,
But erth day of payment breaks and flees-
Wi' gloomy brow the laird seks in his rent,
Has not to gae your merchant to the bent,
His honour mauna want, he points your gear,
Syne driv'n frae house and hold, where will ye

steer?"

Let the poor, the independent, and the opulent, learn from Peggy how to spurn, how to avoid incon

stancy.

Act II.

The prologue is the finest picture of pastoral resìdence I ever met with-from it painters may draw to the life. Our poet must have been thoroughly acquainted with the manners, customs, and education of shepherds, otherwise he could not have pourtrayed so many incidents in so natural a manner. Even Virgil, Theocritus, Pope, and other pastoral writers, lose much of their excellence from being too refincd.--Ramsay's personages speak in their native language, without offending, and to this circumstance is he greatly indebted for the celebrity of his drama-- ·in short, there is no production, of this kind, so happily formed as is the Gentle Shepherd.

In Glacco and Simon we find a noble sincerity, a disposition honest, and a warmness of soul, which is only found where

"Virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest."

Here these two generous swains prepossess us in favour of Sir William, and teach individuals of his

station how they should act for their benefit and happiness.

Song VIII. bears an excellent moral, and the discourse that follows is fraught with just sentiment. Those who know the little regulations in a farmer's family, will feel sensations of pleasure from Glacco's good-natured orders.

"Gae get my Sunday's coat,

Wash out the whitest of my bobbit bands,

My white skin hose, and mittens for my hands, Then frae their working, cry the bairns in haste, And make yo'rsells as trig, head, feet, and waist, As ye were a' to get young lads or e'en;

For we're gaun o'er to dine wi Syne Bedeen."

In scere IV. the interview between Patie and Peggy is affecting, and tenderly endearing. With what native eloquence do these pastoral lovers breath the language of the heart! O! how genuine are their effusions !---how lovely are their professions !-with what rapture does the language of Patic fill the very soul!

"I am sure I canna change; ye need na fear;
Though we're but young, I've loved ye many a year;
I mind it werl when thou coulast hardly gang,
Or lisp out words, I choose you frae th' throng
Of all the bairnes, and led thee by the hand,
Aft to the tansy know, or rushy strand,
There snoring by side, I took delight

To pu' the rushes green, with roots sae white;
Of which, as well as my young fancy cou'd,
For thee I pluckt the flow'ry bank and snood."

Peggy's reply is pathetic, and breathes a virtuous compliance, nicely conformable to the dictates of true love.-Songs X. and XI. are equally the offspring of harmony and rapture. We even participate in the lovers reciprocal exstacy.

Act III.

Sir Williams's contemplation is fraught with liberality, and gives us a favourable opinion of one who has seen the world. This observation is natural

"Yet 'midst my joys some prospect pain renews,". For who is not susceptible of lively emotions, in viewing once more his native fields, after being removed -long removed from scenes where we spent the innocence of childhood. Like a philosopher, Sir William moralizes when he thus attaches happiness to him who

"Hid from himself, he starts up by the dawn,
And ranges careless o'er the height and lawn
After his fleecy charge, serenely gay,

With other shepherds whistling o'er the day;
Thrice happy life, that's from ambition free!
Remov'd from crowns and courts, how chearfully
A quiet contented mortal spend his time,
In hearty health, his soul unstain'd by crime."

Scene II.

Symon's house is pourtray'd in the Prologue, and the conversation that ensues gives us a knowledge of Country manners. When we discover Sir William in disguise, enjoying social chat with his tenantry, we feel high esteem for a conduct so condescending.— The plan is well conceived, and the deception carried on with a jocular glec. The encouragement Patie gave Roger is now verified to the utmost wish of the once desponding lover. Such is the force of love, and such its effects. Jenny unfolds her passion, Roger is almost overpowered with joy; and unpolished as may appear the exclamation

"I am happy now!-o'er happy! had my head!This gust of pleasure's like to be my dead!"

It is the very overflowing of a heart suddenly animated hy attaining wished-for happiness.-Here the coy maiden, with raptures of compliance, owns

that his

"Well try'd love had won the day."

Modesty, that jewel of inestimable value, smothered Cupid's dart 'till a seasonable opportunity extracted the intoxicating instrument. The awaited scene pre