saw his poems through the press. Surely never
before in the history of literature had book burst from such a medley of
misfortunes into so sudden and certain fame. Born in tumult, it
vindicated its volcanic birth, and took the hearts of men by storm.
Burns says little about those months of labour and bitterness. We know
that he had then nearly as high an idea of himself and his works as he
had in later life; he had watched every means of information as to how
much ground he occupied as a man and a poet, and was sure his poems
would meet with some applause. He had subscriptions for about three
hundred and fifty, and he got six hundred copies printed, pocketing,
after all expenses were paid, nearly twenty pounds. With nine guineas of
this sum he bespoke a passage in the first ship that was to sail for the
West Indies. 'I had for some time,' he says, 'been skulking from covert
to covert under all the terrors of a jail, as some ill-advised,
ungrateful people had uncoupled the merciless, legal pack at my heels. I
had taken the last farewell of my friends; my chest was on the road to
Greenock; I had composed the song _The Gloomy Night is Gathering Fast_,
which was to be the last effort of my muse in Caledonia, when a letter
from Dr. Blacklock to a friend of mine overthrew all my schemes, by
rousing my poetic ambition. The doctor belonged to a class of critics,
for whose applause I had not even dared to hope. His idea that I would
meet with every encouragement for a second edition fired me so much,
that away I posted to Edinburgh, without a single acquaintance in town,
or a single letter of recommendation in my pocket.'

It was towards the end of July that the poems were published, and they
met with a success that must have been gratifying to those friends who
had stood by the poet in his hour of adversity, and done what they could
to ensure subscriptions. In spite of the fact that Burns certainly
looked upon himself as possessed of some poetic abilities, the reception
the little volume met with, and the impression it at once made, must
have exceeded his wildest anticipations. Even yet, however, he did not
relinquish the idea of going to America. On the other hand, as we have
seen, the first use he made of the money which publication had brought
him, was to secure a berth in a vessel bound for Jamaica. But he was
still compelled by the dramatic uncertainty of circumstance. The day of
sailing was postponed, else had he certainly