The Ogden standard. [volume] (Ogden City, Utah) 1902-1910, 1910-01-26
ROBT. BURNS AND
THE LOCAL SCOTS
Cronies Caedonan Society and Invited Guests
loved Poe-Scottish Songs and the BagpipeS Feature
DR.. A. s. Condor Reviews the Life of Bobby
Burns Quoting Famous Lines.

The Caledonian society. with the
Ancient Order OF Scottish Cronies,
were united last evening in doing
honor 10 the memory of their beloved
Bobbie Burns, whose poetry has been
read and admired by all the world.
For the occasion Congress Dancing
Academy was ablaZe with brilliant
lights, which pierced the heavy tes-
looming OF smilaX and pink rose buds.
The music on bagpipes by John Nc
Kay brought back memories dear to
the heart OF every Scot. and the hearty
Scotch applause was enjoyed, even by
every visitor That sweet old song.
There Was Lad was given by the
Calcdonian Quartette. after which
Chief w. y. Purdie gave a short adj
dress, in which. even to stranger.
the place OF his birth would have been
disclosed by his quiet humor and nat
ural love of country. His tribute 10
the memory OF Bo6bie Burns WAS most
anectionate. and he was proud to say
that the Scotch poet was considered
as great In all other countries as IN
his own Mr.. Purdie said the Gale
donian society was organized for the
purpose of keeping forever fresh the
memories OF the famous men Of Bon
ME Scotland, included among whom
were Robert Burns, William Wallace,
Sir Walter Scott. Ian Mac Laren and
Robert Burns, mot forgetting James
McBeth, Matt Gait and myself.
Miss Artic Simpson, In sweetest
voice. gave The Maid o Dundee and
responded to a hearty encore With
Bonnie Sweet Bessie
Dr. A. S Condor. the speaker of
The evening, delivered a most inter
esting address. In the midst OF which
he was frequently applauded. He
soid.
Or. Condor Speaks
Born in an atmosphere Of poverty
and want. haunted by the wolf of
temptation and adversely through ear
~ manhood, treading the wine press
OF sorrow and repentance 10 the grave,
and always and ever shadowed by the
phantom of privation and neglect, this
bard of Scotland whose birth we
commemorate tonight. when the An
gel OF Death had kissed his weary
eyelids down. had written his name on
the scroll of immortality among the
few who were not born to die No
stranger transmutation OF life was
ever known.
Fame is tickle goddess She pas.
ses by the gorgeous palace, blind to
the beckoning hand OF wealth and
beauty. and enters the cotter's door
to imprint the kiss OF genius on the
brow of the frail tenant OF the cradle
Countless millions in like environ.
ment have been born, and like him
have died; but they have found sepul-
cher under the still waves of oblivion,
thore 10 sleep forever "unknelled. I'M
coffned, and unknown" OF that un-
numbered host Robert Burns survives
like lone star shining through the
void drapery of the night.
And his name VIII live, His star
will shine with undiminiShed radiance
while the ages roll, His name will
live In his boundless pity for the help
less and oppressed. In his abiding
hope for the despairing who have
tasted the bitterness Of life: in his
inspiring admonitions to the lovers
of their country; in his wIthering ridi-
cule Of the canting hypocrite: for
these, and more, he Will be remem-
bered when his faults and puny de-
tractors are forgotten
So long as language shall express
thought MS name Will be lovingly and
tenderly spoken, aye, so long as the
human heart shall beat responsive to
things OF a higher and better purpose.
The secret of his fame and inf1u-
ence, n full century after he has quit
ted the scenes that he so well adorn-
ed while living. is to be found In his
intuitive knowledge OF human nature,
in his love for his fellow man. In his
abounding patriotism. and in his tre-
mendous power of verbal expression,
He inherited nothing from his par
ents but their poverty and hard-heads
ed, Scotch integrity They belonged
TO the common type Of people. but, as
said before the Angel of Genius kissed
his baby brow while he slept In his
humble cradle. as two score years
later the same prophetic angel left
the arcades OF Paradise TO imprint the
kiss of philantropic genius on the
infantile brow of Abraham Lincoln as
he slept on his pillow OF straw,
The one broke the shackles that
bound man to the dead carcass OF In
tolerance and superstition, the other
crushed the letters that tied the man
to a master
Robert Burns was at one OF the
highest and the lowest. with the tinsel-
ed king that sat on Il throne and the
pauper that begged at his door. they
all looked alike to him through the
leveliag spectrum OF his honest mind.
Behold his lofty scorn in comparing
them
What tho on namely fare We dine,
Wear holden gray and a that.
| Gle fools their silks, and knaVcs their
wine,
mans a man for a that,
| For a that. and a that.
Their glitterng show, and a that:
| The honest man though e'r sac poor,
Is king O. men, for a that"
| He knew that ihe grave, IN the fin
al analysis. levels all distinctions
paralyses the arm OF power, and dis
solves the bonds of cult, and caste
and hate He knew that the grave
| transforms the throne into the henrsc
where Prince and pauper will ride
side by side TO their last home" In
Not any in Milk rust
Tim flylolnal and EauuIna