1 And through the trees I view the embattled tower, The walk, still verdant, under oak and elms, The frequent flakes, has kept a path for me. With slender notes, and more than half suppressed: And Learning wiser grow without his books. The mere materials with which wisdom builds, THE MILLENNIUM.2 O SCENES surpassing fable, and yet true— Scenes of accomplished bliss! which who can see, Knowledge and wisdom, &c.-See note 1, p. 96, and also p. 232. 2 "We doubt," says the Rev. Thomas Dale, in his Life of Cowper, "whether any thing in the whole range of English poetry, the Messiah of Pope itself not excepted, can afford any parallel to the exquisite grouping of prophetic imagery in that splendid passage which describes the Millennial glory of the Church, commencing "O scenes surpassing fable, &c." Though but in distant prospect, and not feel And clothe all climes with beauty; the reproach Exults to see its thistly curse repealed. Of the same grove, and drink one common stream: Lurks in the serpent now: the mother sees, The breath of heaven has chased it. In the heart And endless her increase. Thy rams are there, Nebaioth, and the flocks of Kedar1 there: BURNS. PRINCIPAL EVENTS OF HIS LIFE.-Robert Burns was born January 25th, 1759, in a clay-built cottage, raised by his father's own hands, on the banks of the Doon, in the district of Kyle, Ayrshire. At the age of six he was sent to school, and appears to have been a diligent little student. At an early age he assisted his father in his farming business, continuing his education at intervals. When about twenty, he composed several of the poems which afterwards distinguished his name. After various domestic trials, when on the point of leaving England for Jamaica, where he had got a situation, the publication of his poems awakened so much interest in their author, that he abandoned his purpose, and after an unsuccessful experiment in farming, obtained an appointment in the excise. He died at Dumfries, in the year 1796. PRINCIPAL WORKS.-Amongst many brief, but beautiful poems, it is difficult to particularise the principal-but perhaps those entitled "Tam o' Shanter"- "The Cotter's Saturday Night"-"To a Mountain Daisy"-"The Twa Dogs"-"To Mary in Heaven"-may be designated the best. 1 "Nebaioth and Kedar-the sons of Ishmael, and progenitors of the Arabs, in the prophetic Scriptures here alluded to, [see Isaiah Ix, throughout,] may be reasonably considered as representatives of the Gentiles at large." CHARACTERISTIC SPIRIT AND STYLE.-"The excellence of Burns is indeed among the rarest, whether in poetry or prose; but, at the same time, it is plain and easily recognised-it is his sincerity his indisputable air of truth. Here are no fabulous woes or joys; no hollow fantastic sentimentalities; no wiredrawn refinings, either in thought or feeling; the passion that is traced before us has glowed in a living heart; the opinion he utters has risen in his own understanding, and been a light to his own steps. He does not write from hearsay, but from sight and experience: they are the scenes that he has lived and laboured amongst that he describes; those scenes, rude and humble as they are, have kindled beautiful emotions in his soul -noble thoughts and definite resolves-and he speaks forth what is in him, not from any outward call of vanity or interest, but because his heart is too full to be silent. He speaks it too with such modulation as he can, and though but in homely rustic jingle, it is his own, and genuine. This is the grand secret for finding readers and retaining them: let him who would move and convince others, be first moved and convinced himself. But independently of this essential gift of true poetic feeling, there is a certain rugged, sterling worth pervades whatever Burns has written. A virtue, as of green fields and mountain breezes, dwells in his poetry-it is redolent of natural life, and of hardy, natural men. There is a decisive strength in him, and yet frequently a sweet native gracefulness. He is tender, and he is vehement; yet without constraint or visible effort. He melts the heart, or inflames it with a power which seems habitual and familiar to him. He has a consonance in his bosom for every note of human feeling; the high and the low-the sad and the ludicrous-the mournful and the joyful are welcome in their turns, to his all-conceiving spirit. And then, with what a prompt and eager force he grasps his subject, be it what it may! How he fixes, as it were, the full image of the matter in his eye, full and clear in every lineament, and catches the real type and essence of it, among a thousand incidents and superficial circumstances-no one of which misleads him! No poet, of any age or nature, is more graphic than Burns. The characteristic features disclose themselves to him at a glance. Three lines from his hand, and we have a likeness!"I THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.1 NOVEMBER chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;2 At length his lonely cot appears in view, The expectant wee-things, toddlin', stacher thro' His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil. Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in, Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. 1 "The Cotter's Saturday Night is tender and moral, solemn and devotional, and rises at length into a strain of grandeur and sublimity which modern poetry has not surpassed. The noble sentiments of patriotism, with which it concludes, correspond with the rest of the poem. In no age or country have the pastoral muses breathed such elevated accents, if the Messiah of Pope be excepted, which is indeed a pastoral in form only:" Dr. Currie. The Cotter, in the Saturday Night,' is an exact copy of my father in his manners, his family devotion, and exhortations; yet the other parts of the description do not apply to our family. None of us were ever at service out among the farmers round:"" Gilbert Burns, brother of the Author. 4 3 6 2 Sugh-the continued rushing noise of wind or water. Stacher-stagger. Flichterin-fluttering. 5 Wee bit ingle-little fire or fire-place. Belyve-by Ca'-drive. Tentie-carefully, heedfully. and bye. 7 8 |