Morning journal and courier., 1892-01-27
about which we hear so much to-day, in fhia haarfv faohion.


 Shall brothers be for a that.'' And years before that dreadful neces- sary death dealing, life giving storm called the French Revolution; in an age when the mass of men were steeped to the lips in poverty and had no rights of any account, which their artificial superiors were bound to respect, it re- quired rare insight into the soul of things, and rare courage to sing:
 ''Is there for honest poverty
 That hangs his head and a that?
 We dare be poor for a that;
 Our tolls bscure and a that;
 The rank is but the guinea stamp,
 The mans the gowd for a that"
 This song is the ''Marsellaise'' of social revolution. It has strengthened the heart of weary millions with it's words of hope and cheer.
 It is their answer to those who oppose their struggle for social improvement, for shorter hours, for better homes, better schools, for a fair days pay for fair days work, for larger hope, for freer, nobler life.
 If he who makes two blades of grass grow where only one grew before deserves well of his fellows; does not he also de- serve we'll who causes courage and hope to spring up in the heart in place of fear and despair?
 There is another service, too, which every true poet renders to his fellow men, and which Burns rendered in full measure. Amid his material surroundings and ap pealed to on every hand at every moment, by things of sense, how prone man is to think of them as the only realities and to utterly
 Forget the glores he hath known
 And that imperial palace whence he came"
 And as those thoughts take possession of him, more and more, how poor and mean and sordid thing does life and all it's belongings and relationships become.
 It is not in the heroic ages when mems souls are tried as by fire, that they ask the question 'Is life worth living" but it is when they say "Soul thou hast much goods laid up for many years. Take thine ease, eat, drink and be merry" It is the office of the true poet not only to show us the "things not seen which are eternal" but also to show us the true value of the ''things seen which are temporal" and the real worth and beauty that resides in them, if we have eyes to see.
 At long intervals, God sends his messen- gers down to men to open their eyes and to unstop their ears; and although we kill the prophets and stone them that are sent, yet they come and do their work and pass away, leaving the world brighter and bet ter for having lived here. More than hundred and thirty years ago tonight one of. Gods messengers came to earth in storm and tempest and appear ed to lonely couple in lonely cabin in the "auld town of Ayr" Take your map and look up the north | ern part of that little island in the north | ern ocean. In a small corner of it you can l measure within the compass of few miles, l all the world he knew.
 The hills, the valleys, the streams, the | birds, the flowers, the humdrum plodding | lives, all of nature and human life that he | saw you will see there, and perhaps find it 1 common place enough, unless you see it through the glowing eyes of the poet. Follow him from farm to farm as he struggles along: Lochlea Mossgiel, on whose fields he sang the dsisy's fate and flashed the sunlight of genius on the Humorous beastie" flying from the cruel 1 ploughshare; Ellisland, by the loved Nth, on whose banks the vision of Tam O'Shan- ter dawned upon him, and in whose waters | gleamed the glori JUS star that inspired the 1 lines to Mary in Heaven. You will find all prosoic enough.
 And the Doon and Nth and Sweet Af- ton" and "Crys stal Devon," are they better than the Connecticut, the Quinebaug and the Ousatonic? Yea, verify, because they lie bathed for evermore in the 'Light that never was on sea or land," and in that light their waters flow with more than l mortal sweetness.
 In the lonely cottage yonder, with it's poor accommodations, it's scant furniture, and it's every look of poverty and strug- gle, and toll, can you see anything there to interest and thrill yous
 Look little closer. A bright fire burns on the hearth. A toll worn man comes home from his weeks labor. All the dreams and romance of life seem to have vanished for him in the bare struggle to live.
 Like the cattle he drives, he works to eat and eats to work. When he is no longer able to toll there is the poor house and the grave. The partner of his cares and tolls must have long ago lost the beauty that allured him, and the ightness of heart that made her very presence a delight.
 Their children are scattered abroad to l relieve the poverty at home. What can there be in such life amid such sur roundings, to whisper of love or joy or hope, or of anything to gladden. the hearts
 For answer, read the "Cotter's Saturday Night,' and learn of the love. the joy, the sweet peace, the calm content and immor- tai hope whose presence there can make out of the poor surroundings, very para disc of God.
 Do you see those two common-look;ng men enter a wayside inn and sit down to | chat over glass of ale? \
 They were boys together once, and they grew up and were separated by roaring seas and great gulfs of years, until noth- ing remained to them in common, but a dim memory of vanished days.
 They have lived common place, ordi- nary, humdrum ives, with the joys and 1 sorrows common to our race. Poverty and toll and suffering and all that makes the heart hard and selfish have been their lot. Is there any place left in their hearts for emotion or kindly sentiment or glowing sympathy? If you doubt it, just and mark how the hand grasp grows fir mer and how the great tears spring to their meeting eyes, as the fountains of their hidden feelings are stirred by the simple words of that song.
 And so as man looked through those great ''glowering glowing" eyes of Gods messenger,
 "New light on home seen nature beamed New glory over woman, l And daily life and duts seemed No longer poor and common,''
 His book was natures open volume, and l the hearts and lives of his humble compan- ions who joyed and sorrowed and toiled | and suffered with him and around him as he fared through the world. His songs have gone abroad into all the earth and have found lodgment in mil lions of human hearts. Not until men have lost the power to love and rejoice and suffer will those songs cease to have do- minion over the heart.
 But if we love the songs we cherish all 1 the more the memory of the singer because he was greater than all his songs. We shall be readily forgiven if tonight we be- lieve with the poet that 'sNo star lit sky, no summer noon But kens the banks O bonnie Doon | No human heart but fondly turns Responsive to the land of Burns.''
 As Scotchmen we are naturally proud of what he did for Scotland, but we are prouder and gladder yet of what he did for humanity.
 And so, without apology for so doing, we meet yearly to testify our gratitude for the great precious gift of song, bequeathed to the world by Robert Burns. Believed to Have Foundered.
 The schooner John L. Treat of this city, which left Philadelphia, in command of Captain Mcclure on December 21 last for Manzilla, Cuba, has not been heard from | since, and grave fears are entertained re- I garding her safety. The vessel is long overdue and it is believed she has foun- dered.
 Thrown From His Carriage. l As John Dillon of this city was getting