"A vast unbottom'd boundless pit, Fill'd fu' o' lowin' brunstane. Wha's raging flame, an scorchin' heat, Wad melt the hardest whunstane. The half-asleep start up wi' fear, An' think they hear it roarin', When presently it does appear 'Twas but some neebor snorin' Asleep that day.... "How monie hearts this day converts O' sinners and o' lasses! Their hearts o' stane, gin night, are gane, As saft as ony flesh is. There's some are fou o' love divine, There's some are fou o' brandy."[78] Etc., etc. The young men meet the girls, and the devil does a better business than God. A fine ceremony and morality! Let us cherish it carefully, and our wise theology too, which damns men. As for that poor dog common-sense, which bites so hard, let us send him across seas; let him go "and bark in France." For where shall we find better men than our "unco guid"--Holy Willie for instance? He feels himself predestinated, full of never-failing grace; therefore all who resist him resist God, and are fit only to be punished; may He "blast their name, who bring thy elders to disgrace, and public shame."[79] Burns says also: "An honest man may like a glass, An honest man may like a lass, But mean revenge an' malice fause He'll still disdain; And then cry zeal for gospel laws Like some we ken.... ... I rather would be An atheist clean, Than under gospel colours hid be Just for a screen."[80] There is a beauty, an honesty, a happiness outside the conventionalities and hypocrisy, beyond correct preachings and proper drawing-rooms, unconnected with gentlemen in white ties and reverends in new bands. In 1785 Burns wrote his masterpiece, the "Jolly Beggars," like the "Gueux" of Béranger; but how much more picturesque, varied, and powerful! It is the end of autumn, the gray leaves float on the gusts of the wind; a joyous band of vagabonds, happy devils, come for a junketing at the change-house of Poosie Nansie: "Wi' quaffing and laughing They ranted and they sang; Wi' jumping and thumping The very girdle rang." First, by the fire, in old red rags, is a soldier, and his old woman is with him; the jolly old girl has drunk freely; he kisses her, and she again pokes out her greedy lips; the coarse loud kisses smack like "a cadger's whip. Then staggering and swaggering, he roar'd this ditty up:" "I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating batt'ries, And there I left for witness an arm and a limb; Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me, I'd clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum.... He ended; and the kebars sheuk, Aboon the chorus' roar; While frighted rattoons backward leuk, And seek the benmost bore." Now it is the "doxy's" turn: