Barre evening telegram. (Barre, Vt.) 1898-19??, 1899-07-21
The Peoples Bard.
CONTINUED FROM FIRST PAGE

4" My boy. it is no common course Of
reading that has taught you this"
How impressive and suggestive meet
inc. Neither knew the others great
ness nor indeed his own, Neither
could guess how their names would
be linked together forever in the worlds
memory and love.
Thomas Carlyle, himself one of Scot
lands greatest, who studied Burns well
and wrote the noblest prose tribute that
has ever been laid upon his grave, de-
clares that if Burns's fortune had lead
him into parliament he would have
proved a greater Mirabeau. There is
no doubt that he was an uncrowned
king, born leader of men.
But over and above all this he bore
the rare, mysterious, magnificent en-
downent of poetic genius. This was
his crown. Here the aspiring nature
burst into flame. The rarest ard most
splendid gift God ever bestowed upon
the world Is a great poet. When Burns
was born that winter day in the old clay
digging that his father built, his coming
was unheralded by sign or prophesy-
no angels are singing in the fields, no
..star-led wizards haste with odors
sweet"-yet if the world had ever had
the wit to welcome its richest blessings,
it might have knelt there in reverence
and awe. Scotland would never be the
same again. The earth itself would
never seem the same. But love would
be more sweet, and home so precious,
and toll less hard, manhood would be
more free and sacred, and life itself a
rich, happier thing because of the wee
bit BARN that saw the light that day.
We see now that it was Natures pur-
pose to make poet, and that she took
the surest means. She took the best
blood of Scotland. peasant blood pure
and undetiled. that had flowed for
hundreds of years close to the kindly
earth-gave him father of nature and
hardened manhood, Il young mother with
a glad, warm heart-a father OF rigid
virtue, ardent piety, but independent
spirit and almost ungovernable temper
ii uothcr of poetic soul, Responsive to
every appeal of beauty, and sc sn'ttHn
with the love of song that she went
about her work grooming the Old Scotch
air, day after day Whn" bearing her
baby in the womb. 1" When a man is
born" said Emerson, " the gate If gifts
is shut behind him. Why, Nature mad
made sure that Burns should be Il lr,eI
bcfpre ever he was BORA.
\es, and having made sure of that, she
knew better than to let him be born in any
place less poetic than !; digginyand a clay one
at that. She even saw to ii that the gable
should fan down, just in the nick OF time,
and let ..u blast O .Janwar win blow han>el
in on Robin" 1t was the only way. How
should II man be the poet of the poor and not
be Door himself? Tradition says that Buru, ;
father, riding in haste that morning for the
doctor, met at the riverside an old woman
who went back to the cottage and acted us
midwife. This was the fortlme-tellcr who
ii llres in the song sun today at the unwilling
of the statue:
..rhe gossip kctkt in his loot,
Quo -ha, wha lives will see the proof,
This waly boy will be nae nae cCOf
| think we'll ca him Robin.
He'll has misfortunes great and 4ma
But aye heart aboon them a,
He'll be ere dit till us u
, Wen a be proud o Robn.'
Was not this the same old woman who
taught him afterw trl> the toll,-lorc Of the
countryside, filling his young Imagination
with elves and ghai>ts and witches and war
locks. and all the rest Of the unearthly crew
b, AT this distance she seems not unlike the scot
| fish Muse herself. And had Burns been born
! in legendary times, who doubts that the
| yossips his father met so opportunelv on the
river bank would have turned out to be the
goddess indeed, travelling III di>%ui,e TO minis
ter at the birth of her taNorte son:
Fate not only saw TO it that he should be
born poor, she kept him poor. " mai path
cite lite 1t was. over him through boy mood
and youth hung the heavy cloud OF his genius
the brooding and melancholy mnd-not
quick. gay, light hearted like his brother
(iilbert-rather slow, rather dull, wearing Oh
his face look of sadness or of pain. Out of
that same cloud the lightnngs of fancy and
humor were to flash and play, and the thun-
der-voice of heroic language was to roll.
Meanwhile he was staggering under the
weight of self-kuow ledge. He sat Alone he
walked Il part, he murmered to himself and
felt the dawnngs of that mighty wit that is to
madness near allied. The world that others
saw was not his world. He lived in that
ideal realm which his reading, his reflection,
the son" and tales that fell from the lips of his
1OlDeT OF luc SIuIlllN ud'i toIJUICt upUIOlllu
him. lie was poet.
His father was determined that his boy
should be well taught. And when Scotch
man is determined il is time for fate to yield.
TO this end he sacrificed everything. He
would not send them out to work, however
much he needed ''the sarwon penny-fee''
lie kept them at home and taught them all he
knew--taught them out of his >cunt book lore,
out of the richer wisdom of life'S experience
and the princl Y store of moral and spiritual
truth. Then he paid, out of his hard toll, the
best teachers he could find, that they might
have the learning he had ever known. In all
biography there is no more touching example
of parental care and sacrifice than that of
William Burns. He died before his son arriv-
ed at fame, but he lived forever in the Cotter'>
Saturday night.
"'rhc sire turns DER, wi patriarchal grace,
The big ha' Bible, nncc his fathers pride;
His bonnet rev 'erently il laid aside,
And Let us worship God, he says, with solemn
air.
The priestlikc father reads the sacred page,
Then kneeling down, to Heavens Eternal King,
The saint, the father, and the husband prays
Hope springs cXutngly on triumphant wing
That thus they all shall meet in future days:
From scenes like these old Scotis's grandeur
springs.
That makes her loved at home, revered abroad
Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,
AN honest mans the noblest work of Godr"
In rugged grandeur of character, sefdenial,
obedience to duty, brave, patient, suffering,
majestic manhood, William Burns towers
above his hayward and gifted son as much rs
4 ut in nf ,toI