Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-08-16
nr eres seem endlesslY fraught with q tinge

WIN the earliest experiments III steam udNl-
CATION but as the big-hearted owner of Ellis
land, the farm Burns took when fresh from
his laurels at Edinburgh.
WHERE he FOUND HAPPINESS.
This little farm, now comprising 135 acres,
lies to the west of the NTH. upon its very
banks, about five miles north of Dumfries;
and it is here that Burns, after building the
cottage which to this day stands embedded in
roses and ivy, brought his bonnie Jean to live
with her the only happy days he ever knew.
1 never saw quite so songful and idyllic
spot-songful in every field and copse bird
that border Scotland knows, and wonder
iully songfuI in the waters OF the NTH
which, between banks white with daisies,
bordered closer down with yellow broom,
spreads wide across cleaning shadows, as If
its mission here was to sing endless and ten
der melodies in honor of the spot where the
inspired plowman sang in his clearest,
purest, graudest strains. For here in this
farmhouse were produced among scores OF
lesser poems, Tan O'Shanter," written In
day and denominated by Alexander Smith
"since Bruce fought Bannock burn, the best
single DAVIS work done in Scotland" his
magnificent battle-piece, 1.-The Song OF
Death" his wonderful satire, "The Kinks
Alarm, 4" his matchless embodiment of con-
nubial affection, John Anderson, Ny 10, I"
20 Blaw Ye Westlin Winds" his address
to the NTH, ""0n Seeing Wounded Hare, I"
that grand address to the Shade of Thom-
son, "Of a. the Airts the Winds Can
Blaw," and that divinest Of all his odes,
''To My Mary in Heaven"
Getting to this Ellisland farm brought
me, in singular ami fortuitous way, with
in the radius of certain associations few have
hod ho To
link the living with thrilling closeness and
emphasis to the dead, brief account OF this
unusual experience will have interest to all
lovers of Burns in America. At late hour
of a recent evening was standing near the
noble statue of Burns, erected in 1877, in
Church place, Dumfries. The only other
occupant OF Church place at that time was
venerable Scotchman who, standing
in the shadows of the Greyfriars'
Church, seemed, though in merely an
idle curiosity on his part, as intently re-
gardlng me as 1 had been studying the
statue. 1 finally made bold to approach
him with a request for information regard
ing the road 1 should take to Ellisland, at
the same time expressing my intention Of
visiting it on the morrow. The chance
meeting was a pleasant one; and on dis
covering that the gentleman, Mr.. Thomas
Brown, of Queensbury street, was quite at
leisure for the next day. 1 invited him to
join me on the excursion, to which he heart
ily acceded, and the day was glorious one
on account of his intelligent company; for
his perfect familiarity with details of the
life and experiences OF the poet, at which
then wondered. though attributing the same
the universal treasuring of Burns-lore by the
people OF Nithsdale, was source Of the
greatest delight.
JAMES ARMOUR BURNS BROWN.
The companionship resulted in return
invitation to visis my new-found friends
family on the same evening Of the Ellis
land journey. On presenting myself at his
door, was admitted by young lady whose
face and presence startled me as completely
as though Robert Burns had himself greeted
me at the Threshold of that welcoming
habitation. There stood a fair young
woman, in whose face was repeated every
lineament of the poets. Her hair was
raven black; her brows were broad and
high; the eyes like flaming orbs; the nose
perfectly chiseled: the mouth large, i'm
passioned, tender; and the chin full rounded
and dimpled. 1t was indeed Burns face
chastened and softened by the pure soul of a
woman looking through it.
Completely overcome by the extraordinary
likeness and situation, could scarcely use
my tongue, but at last faltered:
"1s-ls this the residence of Mr.. Thomas
Brown, with whom an American gentleman
has an engagement for the EVENING""
'tIt is;" the young lady smilingly an
swered. "Father and mother are expecting
you."
''And you are?"-
''Their daughter, Jean Armour Burns
Brown"
1t was to the home of the granddaughter
and great-grandoaughter of Robert Burns
1 had come The CHEEKY, handsome, white
haired hostess of the evening, Mrs. Thomas
Brown, lady 60 years of age, who sang for
us, "Ofa a. the ARTS the wind can blaw,"
with extreme pathos and feeling, is the sur
viving daughter of Robert Burns, Jr., the
poets Oldest son, who died here in Dumfries
in 1857, at the age of 20 years. His early
education was chiefly the charge of Burns
himself, and with him, hand in hand, he
wandered again and again in every loved
haunt Of Nithdale from Criffel on the Sol
way to Friar's Carse, above Ellisland. A
page of this paper could be delightfully."-
filled with the experiences of that evening
and of later hours, in this plain and pleas
ant home-in itself q museum and shrine of
Burns memorial, relic and sentiment But
aside from these and the marvellous repro
eyes and look OF the poet in his great-grand-
daughter, Jean Armour Burns Brown, two
things came to me, with conviction which
cannot be shaken, and which / would set
down to remain, with earnest and solemn
emphasis.
NEW LIGHT UPON BURNS.
The first is, that Robert Burns, Jr., was
man of extraordinary intellect, attainments
and character. He was an attache OF the
British stamp Office, in London. for 80 years,
during which period, and to the day of his
death, as 1 have evidence, he was one of the
profoundest thinkers and scholars of his
time. A no more learned scholar lived; and
Carlyle himself was not his superior in
depth of philosophical research. United
with these, were qualities OF heart and char
acter which were grandly pure and sweet,
while hidden and restrained by loyalty to
his fathers name and fame, to discern
which gives one a glimpse of what true
heroism means, was, as also have evidence,
a gift OF ihe loftiest poetic power. With
this new light upon father and son I cannot
contemplate the ones extreme attachment
to the other without feeling that bond,
perhaps unconscious but still mighty, aside
from the sacred flial tie, held the matured,
and budding, intellect so tenderly together.
The other thing 1 would say from convic-
ton is this: Jean Armour was a woman of
loftier soul than has ever yet been depicted,
Burns genius was illimitably too great to
require unworthy contrast to render it more
surprisingly transcendent. Carlyle's defni-
tion of the function of woman-"to wed
man she can love and esteem; and to lead
noiselessly under his protection, with all
f1a,r icTa