with critical observations and biographical notices, by Robert Burns

26
The poor poet, with that inoffensive gentleness of
manners which was his peculiar characteristic, re-
plied, that he hoped God and his reverence would
forgive his seeming profanity of that sacred day,
" as he had no dinner to eat, but what lay at the
bottom of that pool !" This, Mr. Woods, the
player, who knew Cunningham well, and esteemed
him much, assured me zvas true.^
* The Editor, on his way to Edinburgh, had an interview with
the celebrated Bewick, of Newcastle, who favoured him with
the annexed interesting Portrait of Cunningham, which he drew
two days before the Poet's death.
Through life Bewick has possessed a vivid recollection of Cha-
racter, and to this happy faculty we owe some of the most vigor-
ous productions of his pencil. The Poems of Cunningham were
the delight of his youthful mind 5 so much so, that he emphati-
cally declared he used to read his verses with the same enthusiasm
as others read their prayer-books and bibles.—He walked*iafter
the Poet in the streets of Newcastle, stopped, loitered behind,
repassed him ; and in this manner, unobserved by the poor
dying Bard, obtained the sketch which the Editor now presents
to the public. The little handkerchief, or rather the remains
of a handkerchief, in his hand, contained a herring, and some
other small matter of food.
Cunningham had little consciousness of his own merit as a
Poet, and seldom wrote but when urged by necessity. His
highest ambition was to be considered a great Actor, for which
he had no requisite either of person or talents. When in Mr.
Bates's company of comedians, he had generally a benefit night
at