Morning journal and courier., 1893-09-09

kuElfluk flloktd hul tuIc1uCu Nltu 6IQe- rald lines of hedge, coppice and plsnta- tions, are Tarbolton and Mauchline, but four miles apart.
 At the former wss laid the scene of "Desth and Dr. Hornbrook," and 1t was here that the pathetic parting of Burns and his Highland Mary occurred. You can zee the square tower of Mauehline castle, whose owner, Gavin Hamilton, be- came Burns patron, and will know that at this village was Johnnie Dow's" house, and still remains unsltered the public house of "Poosie Nsnsie," scene of the "Jolly Beggars;" while over there but a mile and half west of Mauchlino is the noted farm of Mossgiel, once conducted with such ruinous heroism by the poet and his brother, Gilbert. It was here that the "Cotter's Saturday Night" and others of Burns greatest poems were written, and where the poet, after preparing to fly to Jamaica, and suddenly being called by Dr. Blscklock to Edinburgh, from which he had returned in triumph, was olasped in his poor old mothers embrace while her ecstatio lips could only utter the cry, "Oh, Robertl Robertl"
 These and countless other interesting with many tender identi6oations of bard and place or object are yours when wan dering In or near the vale of the Doon. They are all fine and good, and worth coming long way to enjoy, but do not think any or all of them take hold of the heart ss does the spell which broods on the other side of these mountains in the Dumfriesshire land of Burns. Perhaps it ia your own attitude and sentiment. Perhaps in the Doon country the sugges- tiveness of the youthful, vsgarous, i'm pulsiyely rlotous early years of the plow- man poet. when hs himself sang of the
 "Rakish art of Rob Mossgiel,"
 haunts you like hints of lowering shsd- ows. Perhaps, too, 1t Is the occasional shock to your own reverence that now and then comes from the holiday sort of levity in thousands from all lands who come and poke about and go, as though there were 6 certain kind of purient qualification in fine remarks on the sacred episodes of Highland Mary, and gentle, loyal Jean, and on finding where immor tai poet soul was sent among the human harmonies In the dark recess of the Ayr cottsge-forgettiDg that the Master in the lowly manager came.
 So If you know all the strange story and double picture, you instinctively turn from the vague buffoonery casual pilgrims interpret in the first part, to the later and better part where the strong, fine tread of
 
 scenes where few irreverent pilgrims come; and here, at the utmost source of the bonnie Doom, with misting eyes you look over into Nithvale past old Dumfries town to the roaring Solwsy tides and seem to know. ss of a loved one gone, the deeper, tenderer mysteries of his environ ment and life. The period covers the ten years preceding his death, from his twenty seventh to his thirty seventh year of age; period into which was crowded more personal hope and disappointment, joy and suffering, remorss for impulsive wrong doing, heaven of purest domestic bliss, temptation and victory, sgonized despair and triumph, than fall to the lot of most great men in their entire lives. There were first the disownment and de- sertion by Jean Armour; the betrotbal to Highland Mary, with the sad parting and her tragic death; the publication of the now priceless though then humble Kilmsr- mock edition of his poems; the preparation for flight to Jsmsica; the triumphant visit to Edinburgh; the generous caring for the mother and brothers; the glad reunion with his Jean, and the home-building at Ellislsnd over there by the songful Nth. Then came the brief, bright days. The proceeds of settlement with Creecb, his Edinburgh publisher, netted him the then muniicent sum of about five hundred pounds. Msgnsnimously generous al ways, much of this sum, the fret and last material good fortune Burns ever knew, went to Jeans parents, and to assist his brother Gilbert Burns in averting disaster in the lstter's farm life efforts. His lucky meeting with the ingenious and kindly Patrick Miller, of Dalswinton Hall, had occurred. It had been settled that the poet, who hated the city with 6 royal hs- ah nr1l h fha rN1n Inc nobility of the day never quite forgave l this plebeisn longing and love, the source of his grandest inspirations. The bsauti- | full farm of Ellisland, five miles above Dumfries, was taken at 8 rental of fifty pounds per year. Burns unaided began | his farm lsbors the first Monday after | Whitsundsy, 17SS. He toiled manfully l until the autumn of that year, meantime | singing many & lusty song to his absent | wife. and built the lovely cottage which stands embowered in roses to this day. And then was celebrated the simple but | glorious home coming, when, with rustic rites, and his bonnie Jean upon his arm, "preceded by peasant girl carrying the | family Bible and bowl of salt" he marched proudly into his little home
 heaven beside the winding Nth. All evil dences agree that in the brief period of 6 | trifie over two years, between Whitsun. day, 17SS, and Msrtinmas, 1791, Burns
 and his good Jean experienced an Eden of
 labor and love, despite their final enforced departure. It was also the period oi
 Burns best and greatest poetic accom- plishmept But more children came tc
 them. These must be supported. The | crops failed and inevitable ruin was ap
 preaching It was then, with nowhere | else on earth to turn, with TO one or
 earth to defend him from the wretched in-
 dusnces of such environment, that to ssv,
 his wife snd children from actual want
 he was forced to accept the government
 position of exciseman at the beggsrly pit
 tance Of fifty pounds per year. The five
 remaining years of his life, after the poet
 his Jean and their three children, Robert
 Francis Wallacs and William Nicol, re
 moved to the humble lodgings, and ther
 their cottage home, in Dumfries. check
 cred, sad, pathetic bFyond comprehension
 are known to all.
 It is beoause you zee along the witchinl
 valleys ways the Burns of reali:y-manly
 sturdy, weak ss you or in like plights | generous, magnsnimoua, pitiful, great
 that you finger and still finger here. Yo-
 can see him singing at his toll by day, O
 by the ingle neuk with Jean and the bairn
 at night, or still, by the little south win
 dow, working away at the tiny deal tsbl
 when the inspiration came. You see hir
 guest of lsirds or companion of cottsgera
 and beloved of all There is not In al
 this fair domain a castle, s gentleman
 seat, 8 cabin, or an odd roadside inn, tha
 existed in Burns' time, which does no
 preserve some relic of the poet, or som
 revered memory of his one time presence
 The eyes of your consciousness may know
 all through Dumfriesshire and Kirkcrd
 brightshire, at this farmhouse of some un
 recorded kindness; at the next of som
 pleasant incident; st another of an od adventure; now of perhaps a forgivabl registering; then, of some blessed help i ] time of need; again, of festivity of whic he was the life, and again of prayer ! Prayer from Burnsi Yes, prayer with th
 living and at the couch of the dead, anon those so lowly that somehow those s'spirit ual excissmen" who delighted to league tn poet exclsemsn with "Auld Hornie" hs no time from their ''higher" paroohisl du ) ties to minister thsre. You see him rid ing about the country on his two horse "Pegasus" and "Feg Nicholson" not a excieeman rspsoious with the scourgin , instruments of lsw, but keen with friend , ly warnings instead; ever leaning to th side of mercy; saving, not ruining, the is , norant and lowly. You see him, as th bitter days come on; with & curse In you : heart on the curse which cursed his If, , when the hand of poverty crushed hin and there was no helping one to sav, , You see him at Brow We'll with the cor sciousness of death, still the most loyabl l of men, and alone with his Bible ther, You see him carried back to the little co 7 tsge to die, and you hear then from tt
 lipa of loyal Jean the mighty disproof C , all slsnderous tongues in the one ssntenc, ever glorif5ing the husband and man, "H