MORE LETTERS FROM THE ADELAIDE OBSERVER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2811, 26 August 1908, Page 83

MORE LETTERS FROM THE ADELAIDE OBSERVER.

Appended are the two letters from "Mag- j .-.ipie's", - column • of >he -Adelaide. .Observer j '-TpMciiJl prqmieeiil'you. last week _ .1 ■ -publish, for you; ' I liaye ttiem^tarougt * th» -j Jdndness'- of Black Watch, and am publish- j "dig- them "as- a suggestion, of » type of; letter---that "Would iind in our own -column a number \>i~ interested,- leaders. \ Tie^e two are vpjpar«ntly73rom the" -same pen, , as boSi ore eigned "Sesaiae/'iind the two letters are" on ] the' same . subject — Burus's poems. - Thesecond of the letters pleases me better than the first. Can you guess why? It is because in3he second I^ieel that the writer is giving freer rein to his, or her own thoughts, and depending less on the- quoting of which he ] speaks in. his first letter.*'- _ I should be very -glad indeed if the publica- j tion of thes« letters opened a discussion on Burns among my D.L.F. If you have lead -■even one poem of his, write and tell me •what you think about it; or, if you have read more widely, perhaps you may have thought of some point overlooked by Sesame, jor in some way may differ from his- opinion. -How many of you readi " Tie Cottar's Saturday. Night" ox- the poems "To a Mouse " and "To a Mountain Daisjr ? And do you Jmow where we got our oft-quoted quotation : - " The best-laid plans o' mice and men Gang aft a-gley"? April 30. „ . Dear Magpie, — I have been reading for -;about -.the ~t«iW time Carlyle's "Essay on Burns," and still find fresh' passages to mark -and new" thoughts to treasure. I have always -admired, -the poetry -of JtJurns,- but. havingread "Cairlyle on. the -subjeot so often, I cannot express my , own, admiration, or even ihy own., thoughts; without quoting from his essay 5 ; consequently this letter will be mainly I quotation. Do you condemn, "a. free use of quotation?-. I find.it hard to. attempt to \ •use.my" own. I depressions- on -so many subjects,, for the Bimple reason that what I think has already been so finely expreEEed--Jjy someone ""tels* so much greater and wiser .than I, and their words will come to my - mind. I was overjoyed to find thai Emerson upheld quotation-, and, although I admire originality, I am going to quote first, and learn to be original 'when I arrive at the dignity of Shelf 111. It has been, said that -as- -a poet Robert Burns did "but little. We -would rather say that he did much "if we ? consider where- and iow," for "a dwarf be- ' hind ■ his . steam engine may remove moun- - tains ; but no dwarf will hew them "down : with a pickaxe, and he must be <a> Titan that hurls . them . abroad witih his arms." Burns had,'.. as it were, .to >discoyer his own materials where "no eye but his had guessed' their existence." Cicero tells us that "poeta nascrtur, non fit," and what surer example -iave we of this than he wiho walked In glory and in joy Behind) his plough upon the mountain side? From Nature alone Burns learnt, and "how his heart flows out in sympathy over uni- j versal Nature, and in her bleakest provinces j discerns a beauty and a, meaning. The daisy falls not- unheeded under his ploughshare, nor- ihe -aest of the ' wee cow'ring beastie.' The.- hoar; visage of winter delights - him,; the voice of the tempest becomes an anthem to his ears." A true poet soul, for it "needs , but~to be struck, and 1 tihe abund it yields' will be music." The chief excellence in the poetry of Burns is sincerity and unquestionable truth. He doee not write" of what he <■ thinks someone" said was true, but of what £c Has "seen "of Nature as it appear 3 to him, -of -those/ amidst, whom -he "dwells, however aiumbly they mray be. Does' not "The Cottar's Saturday Night" present a homely picture, but does not the. very homeliness, with its simple truthfulness, appeal intensely to us? An old woman having had 1 iihis poem read; to her remarked, shaking her head depreciatingly, "I dinna see what else he could have said if cjie- had tried." What higher praise could be 'given Uurns' or what more direct proof of- sincerity? "He/ cays Carlyle, "is ever . cleaT, simple, true, and glitters with no lustre but his own." Burns possesses the power of making all subjects interesting: nothing to him is commonplace, nothing . prosaic. The poets of the eighteenth century have been.- accused of writing without local colour, of mere generalisations, scorning their . own Buxrounding« as unheroic. " Carlyle would preath. to them "a, sermon on the duty of staying at home." Burns cannot be found guilty of this, for he writes oi his fellow-men, of life, and of Nature as they appear to hira in his own tustic surroundings; and will no£ the charm of his poetry last but the longer? "Does JEEomer "intefes.t -"us now because he wrote of what .passed^ beyond '-hia native Greece, and two oeniuries " before .he was born ; or because he*wrote of ""what- passed 1 in- God's world and in. the heart of man, .which is the same after, thirty centuries,?" -Kobert Burns has lelt us- '.perhaps more*/ varied! <poetry than almost any other poet we\can name,- and " "<3ub:' was h«_ for wliom the world found no fitter * business than quarrelling " with smugglers andi' .vurtoeis, computing excise dues upon - tallow, and gauging ale barrels, j In such toils was ihat mighty spirit soriow--Sully wasted, and 1 a hundred years will pass ca before another such is given us to waste. - -'-- SESAME. '33y&at Srotusny of the homeliness of some -tef -Burns's _piofc?rr«B makes me wonder over 4 tendency ' in TDgodexn fiction to avoid home- ,

linees or trea-i it only as ©omie (Jacobs, for instance). -It' seems to me that we hav® great - riches or squalid' want ; never the happy medium. Is it that modern writers doubt their power of exciting interest without some adventitious aids? I wonder? I am not putting you into Shelf 111 as * permanency; only that this letter may not be held over a-ny longer. — MAGPIE.] Adelaide. Dear Magpie, — It is impossible to dismiss the subject of Burns in one letter. Perhaps th« reason for the wonderful variety of sentinWnt in Burns's poems may be explained in one sentence from OariyJe — "In this man there was the gentleness, the trembling pity of a woman, with the deep earnestness, the force and passionate ardour of a hero. Tears lie in him an«t consuming fire; as lightning lurks in the drops of a summer cloud." Again, Burns possesses tihe power of painting a whole picture in a- few words. In the "Winter Night", we read: "Ac night the storm th© steejples rocked, Poor labour 'sweet in sleep was locked. While burns wi' snawy wreaths upchoked, Wild-eddying swirl, Ox thio' the mining outlet booked, Down^ headlong hurl." "Tarn o' Shanter" is not so much a poem) as a "-piece of sparkling rhetoric," brimming over with a " humour which a Scotchman alone can appreciate — but that is characterj istic of ail-bis humorous* poems, particularly j "T-he J0II5 ;- Beggars" and /'Hallowe'en/' The i-most truly inspired of all his words are his { '-'Songs.", ■ "By. far-tße best that Britain has I yet -produced." They do not affect 'to be set t to music: they are in ' themselves 1 music. The' story or" feeling is not butsuggested ;v; v vjidt /said . . .' but .guog.i in fitful , gushes",- in glowing Hints, in fantastic - breaks, in warblings, not of voice only, but of Use whole? mind."- - Here we find ' grace, truth, simplicity, tenderness, vehemence, and deepest woeand the merriest mirth ; here he is^ "soft and sweet," sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, and soft as their parting tear. What revelry there i» in "Willie Brewed a PeckV Maut" ; glad greeting in "Aul<d lang syne" ; pathos and tenderness in "To Mary in Heaven," "Of a' the Airts the Wind can Blaw," and "My Nannie's Awa' " ; arch-humour in "Duncan Gray" ; and grand patriotism and stirring spirit in "Scots Wha Hae wi' .Wallace Bled," composed "while on horseback, riding iij the middle of tempests, over the wildest Galloway moor. Doubtless this stern hynm was singing itself, as he formed it, though th« soul of Burns; but to the external ear it should be- sung with the throat of a whirlwind. So long as there is warm blood in the heart of Scotchmen or men, it- will move in fierce thrills- under this war ode — the best, we believe, that was ever written by any pen. ... It will seem small praise if we rank! Mm as the .first of all our song-writers, for we know not where to find one .worthy of being second to him." Burns possesses a- style of his own, distinctly felt, but almost impossible to describe. It has been, said that " style is to a poem what perfume is to the violet," and tih« fascination of Burns's style is mainly attributable to his wonderful insight into, and intense ' sympathy for, Nature. In thepoem "To a Mouse," who does not feel his pity called forth fox him' who wrote: " Still thou art blest compared wi' me. . The present only toucheth thee: But, ocb.l I" backward -cast my e'e ■ " On prospects- drear! And forward though I canna see, I guess and fear." Or: " The wan moon is setting beyond the white wave. And time is eetting wi' me, oh!" But from the poems I migihit qtxote on for aye, ever finding exquisite gems, illustrative of every feeling of which man is ja.pable. Of the r life of Burns- we can only say with Carlyle that "we have not youth and manhood, but only youth . . . for in him we can trace no moral manhood. To the last he wavers between two purposes . . . and to the last cannot reach the only true happi- • ness of a man, that of clear decided activity in tho sphere for which by Nature he has been fitted and appointed." The character and poewns of Burns are subjeot matter for, very much- longer letters than I may write, but fchose who read the essay of Carlyle will find much to interest: some will even be- as fascinated as I am, and believe of 'he poetry of Burns that (to quote onoe more)— "While- the Shakespearos and Miltons roll on like mighty rivers through the country of thought, bearing fleets of traffickers and assiduous pearl-fishers on their waves, this little Valclusa Fountain will also arrest our eyfe. for this a.lso is Na-lure's own most cunning workmanship, bursts from the hearts with a full, gushing current into the light of day; and often will the traveller turn aside to drink of its cleaar waters, and muse among its rocks and! pines." • •> SESAME. [I *m giacL to have this second letter on Carlyle's essay on Burns. Why, and oh wny, have you not joined 1 the 0.R.C.? Youl would make a splendid member, and here you are dealing with one of the writers chosen. " Thank you for an interesting letter. MAGPIE.]