Not for his poetry alone was Burns an extraordina man. He equally excelled in colloquial talent. It is no always, indeed not generally, the case, that such as hav the greatest power in deliberate composition are also highly gifted with the ability to express themselves readily and forcibly in extemporaneous conversation: a quite different talent is called into exercise, and men seldom possess a great number of distinguished powers. Burns was one of the few who, mighty in their slower and solitary movements, were also quick and strong in their unpremeditated activity. His conversation is described by his biographers as singularly energetic and beautiful. All social circles which he honored with his presence, whether of the high or low in rank, were delighted even to amazement, with the fa cility and grace with which the most eloquent and profound remarks, on all conceivable subjects, were emitted, as from an exhaustless reservoir of brilliant, flowing thoughtcrystal scholars and boors, judges and draymen, lords and boot-blacks, equally paused to listen as to an inspire oracle, and when he had spoken were ready to enquire "Whence hath this man wisdom?"

Oh! genius is an inspiration truly divine. He who lips have been touched with a oal from off an heavenl altar, will speak and men co listen, and their heart will burn within them as his ds come rushing in glowing stream from their fountain. When great soul looks out from und h, calm brow, an breathes forth its vivifying bre tening the gratef air, men may hate but they et. Mind is th true sovereign, and though m y rebellious sub jects, it is still glorious in its y. Little me may spit at great ones, but they ttle when the

picious apprehension, the result of pri respected in proportion to his realment, date dignitaries of artificial society, made him grefe de s pany of those who could claim no tinsel superiority a tis self. And among these friends of his own condition is was prone to conviviality, relishing with infinite got the sweets of social intercourse, including, alas! the mos tain-dew of bacchanalian celebrity. Poets, from Ausers on to Tom Moore, have sung the praise of siehelle drinks. They seem as a race to have an innate affection for that source of a temporary ecstasy somewhat resem bling their more peculiar and more ethereal intoxication. It is a lamentable predisposition, but not perhaps indies tive of a very black depravity. Burns was particularly exposed to temptation in this respect, by reason of the e gerness with which his company was sought on all hands, and his own preeminently companionable disposition. He spent, at this period, a far greater portion of his time in social assemblies than he had ever before been in the habit of doing. He also participated very freely in the necta rian refreshments so common among his roistering con trymen. No inconvenience, was the immediate rest, while his brilliant volubility was doubtless increased by the brain-quickening draught. But the end was not yet The second edition of his poems put our band in posesi of a greater sum than he had ever before called his own and with a poet's prudence he resolved to expend it is vi ing the classical scenery of his beloved land. With this 6 Graught.g

Not for his poetry alone was Burns an extraordinary He equally excelled in colloquial talent. It is not always, indeed not generally, the case, that such as have the greatest power in deliberate composition are also highly gifted with the ability to express themselves readily and forcibly in extemporaneous conversation: a quite different talent is called into exercise, and men seldom possess a great number of distinguished powers. Burns was one of the few who, mighty in their slower and solitary movements, were also quick and strong in their unpremeditated activity. His conversation is described by his biographers as singularly energetic and beautiful. All social circles which he honored with his presence, whether of the high or low in rank, were delighted even to amazement, with the facility and grace with which the most eloquent and profound remarks, on all conceivable subjects, were emitted, as from an exhaustless reservoir of brilliant, flowing thoughtcrystal scholars and boors, judges and draymen, lords and boot-blacks, equally paused to listen as to an inspired oracle, and when he had spoken were ready to enquire, "Whence hath this man wisdom?"

Oh! genius is an inspiration truly divine. He whose lips have been touched with a live coal from off an heavenly altar, will speak and men can but listen, and their hearts will burn within them as his lava words come rushing in a glowing stream from their volcanic fountain. When a great soul looks out from under its high, calm brow, and breathes forth its vivifying breath, sweetening the grateful air, men may hate but they must respect. Mind is the true sovereign, and though maltreated by rebellious subjects, it is still glorious in its regal dignity. Little men may spit at great ones, but they feel very little when they

Robert Burns had but to appear in any society and speak, and the thought-king stood revealed, the hero was acknowledged; and men's prejudices, however stiff-necked, must bend with a bow of reverence to intellectual greatness. Yet, though every where a welcome guest, a certain suspicious apprehension, the result of pride, that he was less respected in proportion to his real merit, than the puppet dignitaries of artificial society, made him prefer the company of those who could claim no tinsel superiority to himself. And among these friends of his own condition he was prone to conviviality, relishing with infinite gust the sweets of social intercourse, including, alas! the mountain-dew of bacchanalian celebrity. Poets, from Anacreon to Tom Moore, have sung the praise of alcoholic drinks. They seem as a race to have an innate affection for that source of a temporary ecstasy somewhat resembling their more peculiar and more ethereal intoxication. It is a lamentable predisposition, but not perhaps indicative of a very black depravity. Burns was particularly exposed to temptation in this respect, by reason of the eagerness with which his company was sought on all hands, and his own preeminently companionable disposition. He spent, at this period, a far greater portion of his time in. social assemblies than he had ever before been in the habit of doing. He also participated very freely in the nectarian refreshments so common among his roistering coun. trymen. No inconvenience, was the immediate result, while his brilliant volubility was doubtless increased by the brain-quickening draught. But the end was not yet. The second edition of his poems put our bard in possession of a greater sum than he had ever before called his own ; and with a poet's prudence he resolved to expend it in visiting the classical scenery of his beloved land. With this

view he bade farewell to the scene of his temporary triumph, and on the 6th day of May, 1787, began his patriotic pilgrimage. A gladsome period was spent among scenes where, as has been said, "Every field has its battle and each rivulet its song."

I cannot think Burns was unwise in undertaking this poetic tour. I would that all men would oftener lay aside for a time the cares of business and give their minds a Sabbath-month-a month of relaxation-of travel-of com. munion with nature and of social interchange. From such a change of action and of scene, from a contemplation of other than the features of his counting-house, office, study, workshop, or farm, from at least an annual respiration of other than the confined air of his own town or county, I should anticipate the acquisition of a new elasticity of soul, a continued expansion of intellect and a general growth in practical wisdom.. It seems to me that the mechanism of business life hath great need thus to be broken in its operation, that the working mind may not grow to its treadwheel, revolving with the same regularity and soon with equal thought. The rock-bound oyster knows no elevation in the scale of being, and the human shell-fish, secure in his impervious coat of provincialism from all approach of out-door influence, is as unlikely to see or feel anything beyond the limits of his own narrow cove. Doubtless, the greatest want of civilized society at the present day is a systematic arrangement of its dissipations. "Dulce est desipere in loco," is not a heathen but a human sentiment. That severer duties must divide our time with those of a lighter character, no sagacious observer of moral phenomena ever doubted; that we should totally abstain from amusements, no wise man ever taught. Now I dare not say that there is too little of this indispensable dissipation;