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THE ORDINATION.

For sense they little owe to frugal Heav'n-
To please the Mob they hide the little giv'n.

[On Feb. 27, 1786, the poet penned a letter to his companion, John Richmond, then in Edinburgh, in which inter alia, he says "I have been very busy with the Muses since I saw you, and have composed among several others, The Ordination, a poem on Mr. Mackinlay's being called to Kilmarnock." This bold satire, like the Twa Herds, the Holy Fair, the Kirk's Alarm, and some others, was composed in ridicule of the rigid Calvinism of the orthodox, or Auld Light party in the Kirk of Scotland, and in commendation of the Arminianism, if not Socinianism of the Moderate or New Light party, to which the poet had become attached. The people of Kilmarnock had long rejoiced, and do still rejoice in the reputation of being staunch to the true blue colour of the Covenant flag, abhorring patronage as the pestilence, and prizing as pure gold, the privilege

"That gives the brutes the power themselves to choose their herds." But so far back as the year 1764, when Burns was but five years old, the feelings of the faithful in "Auld Killie had been outraged by what was considered a wanton exercise of patronage on the part of the then Earl of Glencairn, who presented the Rev. Wm. Lindsay, a confirmed Moderate, to the Laigh Kirk. The induction of this minister was the occasion of a riot and a rising in the town of Kilmarnock, which resulted in some criminal trials and punishment of offenders. But above all, the affair was marked by the composition of a satirical ballad against Lindsay and his party, which is referred to by Burns in the second stanza of the present poem and relative foot-note. This "scoffing ballad," which is still preserved, was the production of a waggish shoemaker, named Hunter.

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Mr. Lindsay of the Laigh Kirk died in 1774, and was succeeded by the Rev. John Mutrie, another New Light preacher, who died in the course of the year 1785, and his death closed the career of "cauld moderation" in the Laigh Kirk of Kilmarnock. Lord Glencairn, on the occasion of this vacancy, filled it up to the satisfaction of the Old Light party, by putting in "one of the right sort,' namely, the Rev. James Mackinlay, whose appointment occasioned the present poem. To the foot-note of the poet, regarding "Maggie Lauder," Mr. Robert Chambers, in his Edition of Burns (1838), made the following addendum :-"Mr. Lindsay, ordained to the Laigh Kirk in 1764, was the first Moderate clergyman known in the place. He was supposed to have obtained the appointment through the influence of his wife, whose maiden name was Margaret Lauder, who had been housekeeper to the Earl of Glencairn, patron of the kirk: hence the scoffing ballad to which the poet refers."

The following is the reference to this matter in Hunter's ballad of 1764:

"But some folk had it in their head

His Lordship wad mak nae sic speed

If Maggie Lauder had been dead.-Good people, hear my ditty.

This as it may, I canna tell,

Glencairn he kens it best himsel',

His reason thus the kirk to fill.-Good people, hear my ditty."]

KILMARNOCK Wabsters, fidge ar' claw,

An' pour your creeshie nations;

An' ye wha leather rax an' draw,
Of a' denominations;

Swith to the Laigh Kirk, ane an' a',
An' there tak up your stations;
Then aff to Begbie's in a raw,
An' pour divine libations

For joy this day.

*

Curst Common-sense, that imp o' h-ll,
Cam in wi' Maggie Lauder;
But Oliphant aft made her yell,
An' Russell sair misca'd her:
This day M'Kinlay taks the flail,

An' he's the boy will blaud her!
He'll clap a shangan on her tail,
An' set the bairns to daud her
Wi' dirt this day.

Mak haste an' turn king David owre,
An' lilt wi' holy clangor;

O' double verse come gie us four,
An' skirl up the Bangor :

This day the Kirk kicks up a stoure,
Nae mair the knaves shall wrang her,

For Heresy is in her pow'r,

And gloriously she'll whang her

Wi' pith this day.

Come, let a proper text be read,
An' touch it aff wi' vigour,

How graceless Ham† leugh at his Dad,
Which made Canaan a nigger;
Or Phineas drove the murdering blade,
Wi' wh-re-abhorring rigour;

Or Zipporah, § the scauldin jad,

Was like a bluidy tiger

I' th' inn that day.

* Alluding to a scoffing ballad which was made on the admission of the late Reverend and worthy Mr L

to the Laigh Kirk.-(R. B. 1787.) † Genesis, ch. ix. vers. 22.-(R. B. 1787.) ‡ Numbers, ch. xxv. vers. 8.—(R. B. 1787.) Exodus, ch. iv. vers. 25.-(R. B. 1787.)

There, try his mettle on the creed,
And bind him down wi' caution,
That Stipend is a carnal weed

He takes but for the fashion;
And gie him o'er the flock, to feed,
And punish each transgression;
Especial, rams that cross the breed,
Gie them sufficient threshin,

Spare them nae day.

Now auld Kilmarnock, cock thy tail,
An' toss thy horns fu' canty;
Nae mair thou'lt rowte out-owre the dale,
Because thy pasture's scanty;

For lapfu's large o' gospel kail
Shall fill thy crib in plenty,

An' runts o' grace the pick an' wale,

No gi'en by way o' dainty

But ilka day.

Nae mair by Babel's streams we'll weep,
To think upon our Zion;

And hing our fiddles up to sleep,
Like baby-clouts a-dryin:

Come, screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep,
And o'er the thairms be tryin;

Oh, rare! to see our elbucks wheep,
And a' like lamb-tails flyin

Fu' fast this day!

Lang, Patronage, wi' rod o' airn,
Has shor'd the Kirk's undoin,
As lately Fenwick, sair forfairn,
Has proven to its ruin:

Our Patron, honest man! Glencairn,
He saw mischief was brewin;
And like a godly, elect bairn,
He's wal'd us out a true ane,

And sound this day.

Now Robinson harangue nae mair,
But steek your gab for ever;
Or try the wicked town of Ayr,
For there they'll think you clever;
Or, nae reflection on your lear,
Ye may commence a Shaver;
Or to the Netherton repair,
And turn a Carpet-weaver

Aff-hand this day.

Mutrie and you were just a match,
We never had sic twa drones;
Auld Hornie did the Laigh Kirk watch,
Just like a winkin baudrons :
And ay he catch'd the tither wretch,
To fry them in his caudrons;
But now his Honor maun detach,
Wi' a' his brimstone squadrons,
Fast, fast this day.

See, see auld Orthodoxy's faes
She's swingein thro' the city!

Hark, how the nine-tail'd cat she plays!
I vow it's unco pretty :

There, Learning, with his Greekish face, Grunts out some Latin ditty;

And Common Sense is gaun, she says,

To mak to Jamie Beattie

Her plaint this day..

But there's Morality himsel,

Embracing all opinions;
Hear, how he gies the tither yell,
Between his twa companions!
See, how she peels the skin an' fell,
As ane were peelin onions!

Now there, they're packed aff to h-ll,
And banish'd our dominions,

Henceforth this day.

O happy day! rejoice, rejoice!
Come bouse about the porter !
Morality's demure decoys

Shall here nae mair find quarter:
M'Kinlay, Russell, are the boys
That Heresy can torture;
They'll gie her on a rape a hoyse,
And cowe her measure shorter

By th' head some day.

Come, bring the tither mutchkin in,
And here's, for a conclusion,
To ev'ry New-light* mother's son,
From this time forth, Confusion :
If mair they deave us wi' their din,
Or Patronage intrusion,

We'll light a spunk, and, ev'ry skin,
We'll rin them aff in fusion

Like oil, some day.

THE CALF.

To the Rev. Mr, on his text, MALACHI, ch. iv. vers. 2.-' And they shall go forth, and grow up, like CALVES of the stall.'

[The preacher was the Rev. James Steven, afterwards of the Scotch Church in London, and ultimately minister of Kilwinning in Ayrshire. On the morning of the same day on which poor Jean Armour was delivered of the poet's twinchildren, namely, Sunday, 3rd September, 1788, he had called for Gavin Hamilton on his way to the church at Mauchline, and that gentleman being indisposed to go, requested the poet to bring him back a note of the sermon. He called on returning, and produced the poem almost extempore. The verses are very clever, but recklessly severe; for the author could have no personal dislike to this victim of his satirical propensity. The appellation of The Calf seems to have stuck to the decent preacher throughout his life.]

RIGHT, Sir! your text I'll prove it true,
Tho' Heretics may laugh;

For instance, there's yoursel just now,
God knows, an unco Calf!

* See note page 117.

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