"Allan Ramsay's poem is not only a probable and pleasing story, containing charming pictures, much knowledge of life, and a good deal of quiet humour, but in some respects it may be called classical, if by classical is meant ease, precision, and unsuperfluousness of style. Ramsay's diction is singularly straightforward, seldom needing the assistance of inversions; and he rarely says anything for the purpose of 'filling up;'--two freedoms from defect the reverse of vulgar and commonplace; nay, the reverse of a great deal of what pretends to be fine writing, and is received as such. We confess we never tire of dipping into it, 'on and off,' any more than into Fletcher or Milton, or into Theocritus himself, who, for the union of something higher with true pastoral, is unrivalled in short pieces. The Gentle Shepherd is not a forest, nor a mountain-side, nor Arcady; but it is a field full of daisies, with a brook in it, and a cottage 'at the sunny end;' and this we take to be no mean thing, either in the real or the ideal world. Our Jar of Honey may well lie for a few moments among its heather, albeit filled with Hybla. There are bees, 'look you,' in Habbie's How. Theocritus and Allan shake hands over a shepherd's pipe. Take the beginning of Scene ii., Act i., both for description and dialogue:-- 'A flowrie howm between twa verdant braes, Where lasses use to wash and spread their claiths, _A trotting burnie wimpling thro' the ground, Its channel peebles, shining, smooth, and round_; Here view _twa barefoot beauties_ clean and clear; First please your eye, next gratify your ear, While Jenny _what she wishes discommends_, And Meg, with better sense true love defends. JENNY. Come, Meg, let's fa' to wark upon this green, The shining day will bleech our linen clean; The water's clear, the lift unclouded blew, Will make them _like a lilly wet with dew_. PEGGY. Go farer up the burn to Habby's How, Where a' the sweets of spring and summer grow; _Between twa birks, out o'er a little lin The water fa's, and makes a singand din; A pool breast-deep beneath, as clear as glass, Kisses with easy whirles the bordring grass_: We'll end our washing while the morning's cool, And when the day grows het, we'll to the pool, There wash our sells--'tis healthfu' now in May, And sweetly cauler on sae warm a day.' "This is an out-door picture. Here is an in-door one quite as good--nay, better. '_While Peggy laces up her bosom fair, With a blew snood Jenny binds up her hair_; Glaud by his morning ingle takes a beek, _The rising sun shines motty thro' the reek, A pipe his mouth; the lasses please his een, And now and than his joke maun interveen._'