We know, that he was naturally good-his temper amiable, his disposition charitable, his mind liberal, his feelings affectionate. Gifted with those transcendent powers which his lordship possessed, and commanding that extensive influence which waits upon rank and popularity; why should a nobleman, a poet, a philosopher-nay more, a fatherone who has tasted all the delights of virtue and innocence, and who has felt the still greater enjoyment of pressing filial affection to his bosom; why should he waste the best years of his existence amidst a degraded and despicable people, rioting in a voluptuousness which he confessed gave him no pleasure-muttering the sentiments of a misanthropic mind, against all that is good, and great, and glorious in society-leading the licentious by the force of his too powerful example, into still greater excesses, and alternately disbelieving and fearing that Being, who had bestowed upon him the astonishing powers he possessed, for a wiser use and better purpose.

ROBERT BURNS.

ROBERT BURNS was born January 29, 1759, in a small house, formed of clay, about two miles from Ayr.

Bigelow, in his 'Leaves from a Journal," thus describes Burns's birth-place: It is a low thatched building of a single story, forming the corner, and connected by the same roof with two or three others of the same size. A sign is affixed to the walls without, which bears the inscription that follows: "Burns's Cottage,-Robert Burns, the Ayrshire poet, was born under this roof on the twenty-ninth of January, 1759." Two small rooms occupy the whole floor of the house; in one of which, now used as a kitchen, is a recess where stood the bed in which the poet was born. The other apartment is furnished with some neatness, and boasts an engraved view of the dwelling, and a large painting of Burns, which, from its size and style of execution, seems to have been designed for a tavern sign-board.'

Burns, in his early years, showed no signs of the genius and talent by which he was afterwards distinguished; he was only remarkable for the avidity with which he read the books that chance or friendship threw in his way-and for a retentive memory. When of the age of fourteen years, his father sent him to the parish school of Dalrymple, to improve himself in writing; from this school, he went to that of Kirk Oswald, to learn surveying. To a deep insight into the English, he joined some knowledge of the French language; but appears to have made no progress in the classics.

It was about his sixteenth year, that Burns 'committed the sin of rhyme ;' and his muse was first inspired by love; of that passion he seems, indeed to have been at all times unusually susceptible. Burns thus beautifully describes his first emotions of love :'You know our country custom of coupling a man and woman together as partners in the labours of harvest. My partner was a bewitching creature, a year younger than myself. My scarcity of English denies me the power of doing her justice in that language; but you know the Scottish idiom

she was a bonie, sweet, sonsie lass. In short, she altogether, unwittingly to her, herself initiated me in that delicious passion, which in spite of acid disappointment, gin-horse prudence, and book-worm philosophy, I hold to be the first of human joys, our dearest blessing here below! How she caught the contagion I cannot tell; indeed I do not know myself why I liked so much to loiter behind with her, when returning in the evening from my labours; why the tones of her voice made my heart-strings thrill like an Eolian harp; and particularly why my pulse beat such a furious ratan when I looked and fingered over her little hand to pick out the cruel nettle-stings and thistles. Among her other love-inspiring qualities, she sung sweetly; and it was her favorite reel to which I attempted giving an embodied vehicle in rhyme. Thus with me began love and poetry.'

Our bard continued with his father, engaged along with the rest of the family in the labours of the farm, till he attained the age of twenty-three years, when he became anxious to marry; but the stock of a farm requiring more money than he had the proba

bility of getting, he relinquished the idea, and, with the view to his final settlement in life, he wrought at the flax-dressing business at Irvine, for six months, when, making merry with some friends in welcoming the newyear, the shop was burnt; and he was thus left, a true poet, not worth a sixpence.'

He then returned to his former profession; and, in conjunction with his brother Gilbert, entered on the farm of Mossgeil, which was stocked by the savings and property of the whole family; but, the first year unfortunately buying bad seed, and the second from a late harvest, they lost half their crops. This overset all Burns's wisdom; and they were obliged to give up the concern, with great loss. It was while on this farm, he lost his father, who died of a consumption, February 13, 1784.

About this period, he became acquainted with Jean Armour, his future wife. The connexion continued till it could be no longer concealed; and Burns, though in a most unsettled state, was anxious to shield the partner of his imprudence by every means in his power. It was agreed, between them, that they should make a legal acknowledge.