The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1885-10-10
S'nai,s-~ g. literature and / ios'opAp.
With s,ie: s,!ec:i,ns ron a:aaia,a A1.a,.s.
An Original WING Feature.
ROBERT BURNS.

ROBERT BURNS.
| have said elsewhere at another time
that of all secret, mysterious, consei va
tive places in the world or out of it, the
office of a country newspaper stands sn-
premely first. Oh, the fitting, uncer-
tain shadows of vanished deeds, the mold
and dust. the traps and litter, the silent
faces on the wall of men grown great
in the world staring sternly down upon
the weary driver of the quill, And the
busts upon the mantle and corner
Palas above the poets chamber door,
half hidden always beneath the wings of
some such ghostly visitant as the raven
"Nevermore" The Office of TIE WING
is no exception to the general rule, not
even in the matter of the proverblal bust
that adorns it's mantle. To the eyes of
our curious visitors tie little plaster Of
Paris image, stained and battered by
time and general hard usage, that greets
them when they open the door possesses
no particular charm whatever, nor do
they seldom pause before it reverently
as they should, being given little reason
to suppose it is the outcome of a lowly
artists attempt to carve the sweet, mild
face of Seotanl's one grand songster of
the hills and heatEer-R,bert b rms.
AS we glance occasionally from the
labors that engage us towards the I'M
fortunate model of the immortal poet Il
feeling of sadness and longing comes over
us-lonsing for day or an hour among
the primrose fields with the merry
hearted man who stands beside his
brother poct-the great Sir Walter-On
an elevated nook in the gallery of eter-
nal fame. The labols of Robert Burns
in the field of song were to Scotland
what the labors of Lord Tennyson have
been to England. lie has taken the gIeat
slumbering heart of the nation and filled
it with the irresistible fire and passion
of music: he has taken tie dreamy
legends of fair and beautiful people
and clad them in such colors that they
may be seen afar and cngraven upon the
hearts of thousands who have learned to
love the sincere, deep sentences of the
against mans inhumanily to man. 1t is
well that the babe who lay in the cradle
of the humble Alloway cottage in 1853,
the youth who followed the plow in the
regions of Ayre, and the still young man
who lay down to die from poverty in the
| lap Of rich domain, has risen upward
in the hearts of all people to definite
point of esteem and admiration. In the
pure and simple language of nature
unchanged by time or circumstance
should Robert Burns be judged; for it
needs no deep, impenetrable philosophy
to discover the height and grandeur his
soul was approaching even while his
body sank beneath vices Samnable. For
the suiferipgs of the little creatures of
the roadside he had gentle tear and
the music within him came forth mated
to words of tender compassion for them
in their troubles. Wherever IA heart fell
sick with sorrow and the long unan-
swered yearnings after things divine he
went and knelt down beside it with a
carol on his lips full of hope and cheer,
and comfort. His merry heart of song
burst forth continually with ludicrous
couplets on the peculiar ways of his peo-
pie; hut III his sight the sinful Tam
| O'ShaI ter was a dear old fellow after
| all, and well worthy poets pity and re
spect.
The career of Robert Burns was one
that cah well be used in Illustration of an
important philosophic question: No poet, |
no novelist, no historian, of whatever !
time or place, that may be named took |
it upon themselves more earnestly and |
lovingly to teach their fellow beings doc
trines of moralspurity and mental force
L., Il L.,
preacher ever failed SD pitiably to prac-
tice his own precepts. Still, so long as
the heart of man is anchored securely in
the steadfast depths of a woman's love,
his pangs of conscience, his physical
pains and and mental suiferngs, sink
into insigniiicance, and he dwells above
them all in the perfumed waters of the
soul. Robert Burns was in love with
the divinest woman ever created-the
great Goddess of Song and Poetry-and,
away from the bitter, burning torments
of his poverty, his small vices, and
among the hills and heathers of his own
bonny Scotland he could forget the ha-
trcds of men and remember OILY the del
icate blu BELLS could wander in thouaht |,
away from the harsh. ungentle tihings of
the old, old struggle by the laughing
waters of Levan and NTH. Giving the
purcst intonai,n to the divincst chords
of melody, with only an occasional pc
DANTE discords, his songs burst from his
heart laden with Il tuue!i of love and
sympathy for every way side blossom. and
for every flower of Tho human family
whose tale Of woe and pity reached his
ears. From the domestic habits of the
Scottish clans he produced word paint
ings that the world will gaze upon with
delight as long as the tastes of its inhab-
itants run in lofty ways. There was SO
much of the boy in Burns, so much of
that free, jovial grace of innocence and
mad devotion to the whims of his life
that mark the character of youth; yet,
his soul was grand and large, and per-
petually fired with the marvellous flame
of genius. Patiently following the fur
rows Of his pillow, with eyes and ears in.
tent upon every sound and mo, ement in
the air about him, he received their i'm
pressions indeliibly upon his heart, and
uban in his thirty Snvautb vaar bo Low