Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1829-05-07
From the Edin5urg Revie,O. ]
ROBERT BURNS.

dizzy; and was, in that character, entertainer ~
it. in the usual fashion, with loud, vague, 'u-
muluous wonder, speedily subsiding into cen
sure and neglect; till his early and most mourn
dull death again awakened an enthusiasm LOT
him, which, especially as there was now no'n
ing to be done, and much 10 be spoken, mas
prolonged itself even to our own time. 1t rs
true, the mine days have long since elapsed;
and the very continuance Of this clamor proves
tina, Burns was no vulgar wonder. According
ly, even in sober judgments, where, as years
passed by, he has come TO rest more anu more
exclusively on his own intrinsic merits, ana
may now be we'll nigh shorn of that casual ra'
dance, he appears not only as true BRUSH
poet, but as one OF the most considerable Bril-
fish men Of he eighteenth century. Let 1t no,
be objected that he did little. He did much II
we consider where and how. II the work per-
formed was small, we must remember that he
had his very materials to discovers Tor the me-
tai he worked in lay hid under the desert, where
no eye but his had guessed It's existence; and
we may almost say that, with his own hand, ne
had to construct the tools for fashoDing 1t. For
he found himselfiu the deepest obscurI'y, with
GU, help, without, instruction, without model;
or with models only OF the meanest sort. An
educ ated man stands. as il were, in the midst OF
boundless arsenal and magazine, filled with all
the weapons and engines that mans skill has
been able to devise from the earliest time; and
aud he works accordingly, with strength Dor
rowed from all past ages. How different is his
state who stands on the outside oil that store
hous Sc, and feels that its gates must be s'ofmed,
or remain forever shut against him! HIS means
are the commonest and rudest; the mere work
done is no measure Of his strength. A dwarf
behind his s!eam. engine may remove noun
tains; bu. no dwarf will hew them down with a
pickaxe, and he must be Titan that hurls them
abroad with his arms.
/, is in this last shape that Burns presents
himself. Born IN the age the most prosaic Bril-
Tain had yet seen, and in condition the most
disad, ALTA geous, where his mind, if il accom-
plished aught, mus accomplish IL under the
pressure of conunual bodily toll, nay, OF penu-
~ ,nd despoacing apprehension OF the worst
evils, md with no furherance bu, such knowl-
edge a dwels IN poor mans hut, and the
rhym Of Ferguson or Ramsay for his stan
dsrd Of beauty. he sinks not under all these i'm
pedimenrs. Through he fogs and darkness OF
that obscure region, his eagle we dIscerns the
true relations If the world and human life, he
grows into intellectual Strength, and trains
himself in o intellectual experiences. Imptled
by the irrepressible movement of his inward
spirit, he struggles forward into the general
view, and with naughty moG,s,y lays down be-
fore u.s. as the frul, of his labor, gift, which
Time has now pronounced imperishable. Add
10 all this, that his darksoms drudging child
hood aud youth was BY far the kindest era OF
his whole life; and tina. he died in his ,Eirtv-
seventh year; aud then ask ii il be strange tnat
his poems are imperfect, and Of small extent;
or tha, his genius attained no mastery in its
art! Alas, his Sun shont as through tropical
tornado: and ths pale shadow Of D, a'h eclipsed
it at noon! Shrouded in such haleful vapors,
the genius Of Burns was never seen in cea St.
rene splendor, eRlIgh'ening the world. Blu,
| some beams from did, by fits, pierce through;
aud it tinted those clouds with rainbow and
| orient colors into glory and stern grandeur
which men silently gazed on, with wonder and
tears!
We are anxious no, 10 exaggerale; for it is
| exposition rather than admira ion that our re a.
ders require here; and ye' to avoid some ten.
dency to that side, is no easy matter. We love
Burns, and we pity him; ana love and pity are
prone to magnify Criticism i, is sometimes
thought, should be cold business; We are not
so sure Of his, but at all events, our concern
with Buns Is not exclusively that Of critics.
True and genial as his poetry must appear, X
| is not chiefly as poei, but as a man. that he
interests and affects US He was often advised
10 write tragedy: time and means were not
len, him for this; but through lie he enacted a
| tragedy and one Of the deepest We ques ion
| whether the world has since witnessed so ut
terly sad scene; wha,hsr Napoleon himself,
left to brawl with Sir Hudson Lowe, and per
ish on his rock, 'amid me melancholy man,
presented to the rehec-ing mind such spec
tacle OF ply and f. ar as did hi. intrinsicsly
nobler, gen,ler, end perhaps greater soul, vast
| ing Itself away IN hopeless struggle with base
entanglements, which coi.d closer around him,
| ill only death opened him al ou,ie, Con
qutrors ave a race with whom he world could
well dispense; nor can The hard Intellect, he
unsympathyzing lofuuess, aud high but ST fi,n
ntousiasm Of such p rsons. insp,r, u, IN gem
eral win any affec tion; al bes' II may excite
| mazement amp their fall, like tina, Of a pyra-
| mid, will be held with certain sadness and
awe. But true Poet, man in whose hear,
| resides some efflusnce of wisdom, some tone of
the Eternal Melodies is the most pree ious
| gift that can be bestowed on generation: we
| =