The chronicle=news., 1913-01-25

not desert him. and amid the perils |
and anXieties which beset his be-
loved country IN the opening years
OF the great war. he could kindle the
flame of patriotic fervor In the
hearts OF his countrymcn with his
two magnificent ballads of Scots,
Wha Haze WI Wallace Bled". and
Does Naughty Gaul Invasion
But the end was rapidly
approaching. Early In 1896 he
severe cold from sleep |
ing in the open air after rcvel at
the Globe Tavern The result. in his
weakened state of body. was disas- |
trous. He was attacked by rheuma-
tic fever and though he fingered for
some time and bravely battlcd
against faiiIn. health. the hand or
Death was visibly upon him. and on
the 2lst of July. 1896. in the thirty
seventh year OF his age. his troubled
spirit passed swiftly and speedily In
to that still country where the hall
storms and fire showers do not reach.
and the heaviest laden wayfnrcr lays
down his load.
or Burns. tho man and poet. what
Is there left to he said? During his
lifetime he was regarded As pho
nomcnon, and now. after the lapse OF
over century. he remains phc-
nomcnon still. What age can for
get his humor. his homcly sagacity.
his compassion. his tenderness H"
had his faults. but they arose out OF
tho splendid richness OF his soul: h"
had his fnilinSs. bui they were fail
iugS that LEANED to Virtues side.
The sun of his surprising genius had
not yet attained It's meridian spl"n-
dor when IL was cclipsch by IN" pn'"
shadow of Death. The "Snnisit"
flower Of his art had only began 10
blossom, when II was pluckcd from
off It's fragile stem. His III" was
one long battle against ndv"rsity: h"
died before his race had half been
run, yet. In dying. h" bodu"athcd to
Eosi.rity u fame greater than that
of any poet his coun. y has yet pro-
duccd.
The literary remains Of Burns. III"
writings he has left behind him.
constitute. as Carlyle truly says. no
more than n poor. mhtilatcd fraction
OF what was in him: brief. broken
glimpses OF u genius that could new
all things for completeness. culture.
leisure. true effort. nay, even length
OF iife'' Yet. Notwithstanding til"
fact that most OF his poems were
spontaneous, unprcmcditatcd cffus-
ions. composed under the impuls" OF
some transient passion. or prevailing
opinion of the .hour. some rare and
extraordinary excellence they mus
0l.. hs -
quality. and tn" abiding popularity.
which has increased. rather than ii-
minishcd with passing time. That
rare. superior and appealing excel
lcncc Is found. no doubt. In the sin
ccm,y, simplicity and fidelity :"
truth which may easily he recognize"
In all his poems To Burns. sor"
came Us naturally rs the carol come
to lark. His lyrics wcr" often tn"
occupation OF n single morning: his
Tam o. Shan,cr' was written In
day. Burns may have sung In
'homely. rustic Jingle I'M, the mel
ody was his own-ihc musical out
pouring OF n soul that had been kin
died by the fire OF each emotion his
words expressed. Burns poetry t.
pcryadcd with tho breath OF nature,
tho fragrance OF green fields and
blooming flowers: tho scenes that
he dcricis are scenes that h" hn.
lived and laborcd amidst: III" world
he Describes is n world Of reality.
pcopicd by normal. natural creature
that live, and work and die. Burns
interest was more c.ntcrcd In the
Joys and sorrows OF ordinary human
ity. than in the charms and delights
OF nature. IL IL said that the poet
often declared that. in bis view. Ih'
worthicst object that could bc con
taincd In n Landscape was a cluster
of smoking cottages. knowing as he
did. what worth. what affection.
what pious contcntmcnt aud happi
ness nestled within them. Poetry
to him lay in tn" cottage rather than
In the tree that Oycrshadowcd II
or the stream tina gurglcd Is music
past tho door. He hated hypOcricy
and scorned dependency. Liberal. al
most TO radicalisin. In his political
opinions. he. nevertheless. abhorrch
mobs and anarchy as much as he di
dcspots and tyranny. He tor. ruth
l"ssly aside the covering veil of every
religious sham and false pretcnsc
but bowed his head In rcvcrcntial
homage to true picty wherever II
showed It's honest face. To the poor.
the outcast. the disconsolatc and des-
pairing out of tho Bible. there is no
such solace as the poetry OF Burns
His sympathy pcnctrates the mcancst
hovcl. lights up the darkest corners
of existence. and leaves lingering
bcncdiction to dwell in every cot
tagc of the poor. He could find in
the mouse n poor, carth-born COM
panion and fellow mortal: he could
sneak to his old mare. Maggie. as
he would to comrade that had
shared his sorrows and his joys: he
could pity the silly sheep and the
"chittcring wing of the bird
pcrched on the frozen spray.