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Authors: Robert Burns

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NEW BRIG

200
Now haud you there! for faith ye've said enough,
hold

And muckle mair than ye can mak to through.
much more, make good

As for your Priesthood, I shall say but little,

Corbies
and
Clergy
are a shot right kittle:
ravens, difficult to shoot

But, under favour o' your langer beard,
longer/older age

205
Abuse o' Magistrates might weel be spar'd;
well

To liken them to your auld-warld squad,
old-world

I must needs say, comparisons are odd.

In Ayr,
Wag-wits
nae mair can hae a handle
scandal-mongers, no more, have

To mouth ‘A Citizen,' a term o' scandal:

210
Nae mair the Council waddles down the street,
no more

In all the pomp of ignorant conceit;

Men wha grew wise priggin owre hops an' raisins,
who, haggling over

Or gather'd lib'ral views in Bonds and Seisins;

If haply Knowledge, on a random tramp,
walk

215
Had shor'd them with a glimmer of his lamp,
threatened

And would to Common-sense for once betray'd them,

Plain, dull Stupidity stept kindly in to aid them.

What farther clishmaclaver might been said,
nonsense

What bloody wars, if Sprites had blood to shed,

220
No man can tell; but, all before their sight,

A fairy train appear'd in order bright:

Adown the glittering stream they featly danc'd:

Bright to the moon their various dresses glanc'd:

They footed o'er the wat'ry glass so neat,

225
The infant ice scarce bent beneath their feet:

While arts of Minstrelsy among them rung,

And soul-ennobling Bards heroic ditties sung.

O, had
M'Lauchlan
,
9
thairm-inspiring Sage,
catgut-/musical

Been there to hear this heavenly band engage,

230
When thro' his dear
Strathspeys
they bore with Highland rage;

Or when they struck old Scotia's melting airs,

The lover's raptured joys or bleeding cares;

How would his Highland lug been nobler fir'd,
ear

And ev'n his matchless hand with finer touch inspir'd!

235
No guess could tell what instrument appear'd,

But all the soul of Music's self was heard;

Harmonious concert rung in every part,

While simple melody pour'd moving on the heart.

The Genius of the Stream in front appears,

240
A venerable Chief advanc'd in years;

His hoary head with water-lilies crown'd,

His manly leg with garter tangle bound.

Next came the loveliest pair in all the ring,

Sweet Female Beauty hand in hand with Spring;

245
Then, crown'd with flow'ry hay, came Rural Joy,

And Summer, with his fervid-beaming eye:

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,

Led yellow Autumn wreath'd with nodding corn;

Then Winter's time-bleach'd locks did hoary show,

250
By Hospitality, with cloudless brow.

Next follow'd Courage, with his martial stride,

From where the
Feal
10
wild-woody coverts hide:

Benevolence, with mild, benignant air,

A female form, came from the towers of
Stair
:

255
Learning and Worth in equal measures trode,

From simple
Catrine
, their long-lov'd abode:

Last, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazel wreath,

To Rustic Agriculture did bequeath

The broken, iron instruments of Death,

260
At sight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling wrath. 

The opening passage (ll. 1–26) in brackets are generally not printed as an integral part of this poem. However, given that they and the body of the poem are dedicated to John Ballantine (1743–1812), they are included. They first appeared in the
BC
, 1926, pp. 61–2 but the original manuscript of ll. 1–26 is now lost.

The poem was composed in late 1786 after the contruction of the New Bridge of Ayr started in May 1786. John Ballantine, a friend of Robert Aitken, was Dean of the Guild of Stone Masons and took charge of construction with Alexander Steven. The architect was Robert Adam (1728–92) of London. Ballantine was a banker and merchant. He owned Castlehill estate near Kilmarnock and in 1787 was appointed Provost of Ayr. Through an initial introduction from Robert Aitken, Ballantine became a keen patron of Burns and promised to assist him with a financial guarantee for a proposed second Kilmarnock edition, advising Burns to publish in Edinburgh. Ballantine took delivery of 100 copies of the Edinburgh edition for Ayrshire subscribers. There are 13 recorded letters by Burns to Ballantine, two being no more than brief scribbled notes. As both Daiches and Crawford have pointed out, the poem lacks both formal and linguistic integration due to its being a ‘mixtie, maxtie' amalgam of Fergusson's vernacular dialogue and Thomson's socially celebratory poetry. The dialectic between tradition and modernity was a convention that never really energised Burns in this poem. Crawford (1933–9) is both informative and perhaps too generous to it.

1
A noted tavern at the Auld Brig end. R.B.

2
The two steeples. R.B. [plus the Wallace Tower]

3
The gos-hawk, or falcon. R.B.

4
A noted ford, just above the old brig. R.B.

5
The banks of
Garpal Water
is one of the few places in the West of Scotland, where those fancy-scaring beings, known by the name of Ghaists, still continue pertinaciously to inhabit. R.B.

6
The source of the river of Ayr. R.B.

7
A small landing-place above the large key. R.B.

8
This allusion is to the Second Commandment, that there should not be a likeness of Heavenly things on earth.

9
A well-known performer of Scottish music on the violin. R.B. Wallace (1896) records that James M'Lauchlan originated from the Highlands, was once footman to a Laird at Inverary, then moved to Ayrshire as part of a fencible regiment where he found a patron for his musical talent in Hugh Montgomerie, Coilsfield, later Earl of Eglintoun.

10
A tributary of the river Ayr, near Coilsfield.

The Ordination

For sense, they little owe to frugal Heav'n:
To please the mob they hide the little giv'n
.

First printed in the Edinburgh edition, 1787.

Kilmarnock Wabsters, fidge an' claw,
weavers, fidget/twitch, scratch

       An' pour your creeshie nations;
greasy

An' ye wha leather rax an' draw,
who, stretch

       Of a' denominations;

5
Swith! to the
Laigh Kirk
,
1
ane an' a',
away!/haste!, one

       An' there tak up your stations;

Then aff to
Begbie's
2
in a raw,
off/away, row

       An' pour divine libations

             For joy this day.

10
Curst Common-sense, that imp o' hell,

       Cam in wi'
Maggie Lauder
;
3

But Oliphant
4
aft made her yell,
often

       An' Russell
5
sair misca'd her:
sore

This day M'Kinlay
6
taks the flail,
for thrashing corn/whip

15
       An' he's the boy will blaud her!
slap

He'll clap a
shangan
on her tail,
cleft stick

       An' set the bairns to daud her
children, hit

             Wi' dirt this day.

Mak haste an' turn King David owre,
metrical psalms, over

20
       An' lilt wi' holy clangor;
sing

O' double verse come gie us four,
give

       An' skirl up the
Bangor
:
a popular church tune

This day the Kirk kicks up a stoure,
dust/noise

       Nae mair the knaves shall wrang her,
no more, wrong

25
For Heresy is in her pow'r,

       And gloriously she'll whang her
punish

             Wi' pith this day.

Come, let a proper text be read,

       An' touch it aff wi' vigour,
off

30
How graceless
Ham
7
leugh at his Dad,
laughed

       Which made
Canaan
a nigger;

Or
Phineas
8
drove the murdering blade

       Wi' whore-abhorring rigour;

Or
Zipporah
,
9
the scauldin jad,
scolding hussy

35
       Was like a bluidy tiger
bloody

             I' th' inn that day.
in the

There, try his mettle on the Creed,

       And bind him down wi' caution,

That
Stipend
is a carnal weed

40
       He taks but for the fashion;
takes

And gie him o'er the flock to feed,
give

       And punish each transgression;

Especial,
rams
that cross the breed,
the fornicators

       Gie them sufficient threshin,
give, beating

45
             Spare them nae day.
no

 Now auld Kilmarnock, cock thy tail,
old, stick up

       An' toss thy horns fu' canty;
merrily

Nae mair thou'lt rowte out-owre the dale,
no more, roar, -over

       Because thy pasture's scanty;

50
For lapfu's large o'
gospel kail
armfuls, greens

       Shall fill thy crib in plenty,

An'
runts
o'
grace
, the pick an' wale,
cabbage-stocks, choice

       No gien by way o' dainty,
not given

             But ilka day.
every
 

 
55
Nae mair by
Babel's streams
we'll weep
no more

       To think upon our
Zion
;

And hing our fiddles up to sleep,
hang

       Like baby-clouts a-dryin
cloth

Come, screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep,
fiddle pegs, chirp/notes

60
       And o'er the thairms be tryin;
strings

Oh, rare! to see our elbucks wheep,
elbows jerk/jig

       And a' like lamb-tails flyin

             Fu' fast this day! 

Lang,
Patronage
, wi' rod o' airn,
iron

65
       Has shor'd the Kirk's undoin;
threatened

As lately
Fenwick
, sair forfairn,
sore distressed

       Has proven to its ruin:

Our Patron, honest man!
Glencairn
,

       He saw mischief was brewin;

70
An' like a godly, elect bairn,
child/person

       He's waled us out a true ane,
picked, one

             And sound this day.

Now Robertson
10
harangue nae mair,
no more

       But steek your gab for ever;
shut, mouth

75
Or try the wicked town of Ayr,

       For there they'll think you clever;

Or, nae reflection on your lear,
no, wisdom/learning

       Ye may commence a Shaver;
barber

Or to the
Netherton
repair,

80
       An' turn a Carpet-weaver

              Aff-hand this day.
off-/at once
 

Mutrie
11
and you were just a match,

       We never had sic twa drones:
such two

Auld
Hornie
did the
Laigh Kirk
watch,
old Devil

85
       Just like a winkin baudrons,
cat

And ay he catch'd the tither wretch,
other

       To fry them in his caudrons;

But now his Honor maun detach,
shall

       Wi' a' his brimstone squadrons,

90
       Fast, fast this day. 

See, see auld Orthodoxy's faes
old, foes

       She's swingein thro' the city!
flogging/whipping

Hark, how the nine-tail'd cat she plays!
whip

       I vow it's unco pretty:
mighty/very

95
There, Learning, with his Greekish face,

       Grunts out some Latin ditty;

And Common-Sense is gaun, she says,
going

       To mak to
Jamie Beattie
make

             Her plaint this day.

100
But there's Morality himsel,

       Embracing all opinions;

Hear, how he gies the tither yell
gives, other

       Between his twa companions!
two

See, how she peels the skin an' fell,
fleshy tissue under the skin

105
       As ane were peelin onions!
one

Now there, they're packèd aff to hell,
off/away

       An' banish'd our dominions,

             Henceforth this day.

O happy day! rejoice, rejoice!

110
       Come bouse about the porter!
drink/pass around

Morality's demure decoys

       Shall here nae mair find quarter:
no more

Mackinlay, Russell, are the boys

       That Heresy can torture;

115
They'll gie her on a rape a hoyse,
give, rope, hoist

       And cowe her measure shorter
cut/crop

             By th' head some day.

Come, bring the tither mutchkin in,
other, pint

       And here's — for a conclusion —

120
To ev'ry
New Light
12
mother's son,

       From this time forth, Confusion:

If mair they deave us wi' their din
more, deafen

       Or Patronage intrusion,

We'll light a spunk, and, ev'ry skin
match

125
       We'll run them aff in fusion
off

             Like oil, some day. 

‘I have been very busy with the Muses since I saw you,' Burns wrote to Richmond on 17 February, 1786, ‘and have composed among several others, The Ordination, a poem on Mr M'Kinlay's being called to Kilmarnock' (Letters, 21). Prior to its appearance in the Edinburgh edition the poem was, in the form of Ayrshire samizdat, locally available under the pen-names of ‘Rob Rhymer' or ‘Ruis-seaux'. The latter being a play on Rousseau and the French word for streams or (Scottish) burns. Thus Burns's pseudonymous, covert satirical career, a rehearsal for the darker, more dangerous world of the 1790s, was with him from the beginning. When it appeared in
The Edinburgh, the names of his specific ‘Auld Licht' targets were identified only by the first, capital letter of their surname. These men were tangible and powerful enemies. As Daiches has commented, the specific, proper named detail of the poem, as in the similarly undervalued
Holy Fair
and the other early ecclesiastical satires, creates difficulties of contextual retrieval for the modern reader. This poem is certainly worth the difficulty and Burns's own footnotes are of considerable help. While not achieving the manically, perhaps demonically, inspired level of
Holy Willie's Prayer
or
The
Address of Beelzebub
, it shares with these poems Burns's savage, post-Swiftian power of destroying one's enemies by ironically assuming their voice, person and values and, hence, to the mad, destructive conclusions inherent in them. In many respects it is a darker version of
The Holy Fair
. It shares with that poem the same sense of the fanatical, ‘Auld Licht' Calvinism on Scottish consciousness with its power of denigratory pulpit rhetoric. This poem, however, goes beyond tongue lashing into tangible sadism as a mode of clerical control. The image of the whip recurs through the poem. See, for example, ll. 43–5, partly autobiographical from his own kirk-punished fornication, and ll. 91–4. From the second stanza the poem is saturated in vengeful violence as the mode of ‘Auld Licht' doctrinaire control. This pervasive, perverted violence extends to the hanging image of ll. 113–17 and the burning one of the poem's conclusion.

A note by Burns to the poem reveals his knowledge of the history of ‘Auld Licht' fanaticism which surrounded this particular Kilmarnock charge. In it he refers to a ‘scoffing ballad' written when the ‘New Licht' Mr Lindsay had been inducted in 1764. Maggie Lauder of l. 11 was Lindsay's wife and had been the Earl of Glencairn's housekeeper. On this occasion, however, Glencairn had submitted to ‘Auld Licht' pressure and appointed one of their own. Glencairn, whom Burns was to idealise as his patron, was not yet known to the poet. In his 1896 edition of the poems, William Wallace gives evidence of the reality of ‘Auld Licht' violence in 1764: ‘The violence of the people was so extreme at the attempted induction of Mr. Lindsay as to put an effectual stop to the proceedings …. The clergy dispersed in terror… Three young men… were whipped through the streets' (p. 153, fn.1).

As well as ‘Auld Licht' violence Burns brilliantly ironises their self-congratulatory Biblically derived singing and pulpit rhetoric as their ‘New Licht' moderate and ‘commonsensical' enemies are everywhere put to flight. Both the cacophonous singing and choice of texts in ll. 19–36 are in form and content the reverse of Christian
love. Kinsley, as uneasy perhaps with Burns as an ecclesiastical satirist as a political one, totally misreads this stanza when he remarks: ‘But the texts proposed are all indecorous' (Vol. III, p. 1165). The image, both megalomaniac and self-pitying (ll. 55–6) of the ‘Auld Lichts' having undergone a Babylonish captivity is quite marvellous. Also Burns points to the fact that while they hated Patronage, the power of the landowner to appoint the minister (see Galt's more muted, ironic treatment of this theme from a different point of view in
Annals of the Parish
), these creatures of pure spirit were not averse to the material prosperity the acquisition of a Manse would bring. Ll. 46–54 celebrate their new-found prosperity. Burns revelled in plucking from
The Old Testament
anecdotes suffused with sex and violence to expose and embarrass the hypothetically pious.

Ll. 39–40 provided an excuse for this acquisitiveness as accepted in the fashionable way that tobacco is accepted. Nor are they averse to (l. 118) alcohol. As in all ecclesiastical satires, as in Blake, varied, savage, devouring, punitive appetites are located behind hypocritical masks. L. 99 refers to James Beattie (1735–1803) who was in his day a major figure as the alleged proponent of Common Sense philosophy and, thereby, the antidote to Humean scepticism. He was also author of the influential ‘Spenserian' poem
The Minstrel
; or,
The Progress of Genius
(1771–4) admired by the not easily impressed Wordsworth.

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