ROBERT BURNS.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXII, Issue 93, 19 April 1912, Page 3

ROBERT BURNS.

AN APPRECIATION. (Contributed.) The “nicht wi’ Burns” held in Stratford recently and the formation of a Scottish Society was the occasion of a display of much enthusiasm and patriotism, and gave one, a mere sassenach, much food for thought and meditation. I am fond of Burns and enjoy his works with an appreciation worthy of a true Scot, and I can claim more than a dilletanti knowledge of them, but I would not urge or, admit any superiority on the part of Burns’ -poetry over our English poeitry. A competent and unbiassed, judge would place quite a number of English poets in front of the Scottish bard, and yet what an allegiance and what love the Scottish people yield to their poet and hero, Robert Burns! Wherever Scotsmen congregate—and they are in all parts of the earth to such an extent that the phrase “the übiquitous Scot” has become common—there will be formed a Burns Club or Scottish Society, and homage is duly offered. With no other people is this so, afnd it is not for want of national poets. The English have many of note, and Shale osperean .Clubs are numerous; but oven Shakespeare cannot arouse and retain such universal, constant and whole-hearted devotion as is accordet the Ayrshire peasant. Tins is worth? of consideration, .and the explanation will not he found in a. comparison of the respective merits .of their dilf ferent works. On the contrary, suet a comparison would probably point tc an opposite conclusion. The Bare of Avon and other English poets arc at least equal in their interpretation! and in giving that “one touch of nature which makes the whole work kin,” and which moves us to ou> inmost depths. The Scots arc a race of true-hearted sincere people of great depth of feeling, and with true insight, but the? are not freely articulate. They belong to the great empire of silence Ah! those great silent .men with then stern uncompromising visages, then firm, straight mouths and rugger' chins. Ever .working, ever enduring, for whom no populace shouts it self hoarse in acclamation of then worth, for whom there are no trophies raised. They are the “salt of the earth.” Carlyle compares the silent men tr the roots of a tree. They are underground .and out of sight, but always at work anti witliput them no grand monarch of the forest .would rear hk head to heaven, spread Iris' arms with grateful shade, show forth the gorgeous blossom, n'or bear the luscious fruit. Many Scotsmen have occupied prominent positions in the pasts and have made history, and many at the present- time are in positions of responsibility, but it seldom happens that eloquence .has been the means of them prominence and power. Ivathci if it Deeds, not Words; by their Deeds shall ye know them. It is rathei notable that, the people of Scottish, descent in the North of Ireland nave acquired to a remarkable degree the facility of expression which is characteristic of the true native of tar Emerald Isle. Among these people of intense but inarticulate feeling theie grew up the man Robert Burns with all their faults and with all tnc intensity and sincerity of mind, with a full true insight and, wonder of non dors, he was gifted with the. powei to express his thoughts. I make nc doubt that there have been many of his countrymen with equal depth of feeling and an equal sincerity, who truly saw the significance of things, but because they lacked the facult? of expression they .remained part o 1 the empire of silence. Otherwise Burns would have had rivals and would have,had to- share with others the worship of his countrymen. Here then we have the one man of all men -competent to express the thoughts and feelings of this truehearted nation, and right truly .has "no done it. He brushes to one side in no uncertain manner all things of small moment and gets directly to the inner heart <6f things. The inconsiderable man invested with considerable wealth receives small attention, unless it he to strip him of his worldly possessions and to hold him up to the .world naked, except for his unworthiness. No, the man as a man was his theme.

To yon I .sing in simple Scottish lay: The lowly train in Life’s sequestered scene-, The native feelings strong the gnil less ways.

How truly he shows us the strong, earnest and simple cottager, and with what deep and true sympathy he reveals him. r i he poverty and .fenis, thy simple joys and the deep, true huc-n and consolation yd religion. r i he Cottar’s Saturday Night is more tha.ll a sermon, it is a- living picture with all the trials, .hardships, “weary narking cares” and the compensations of a strenuous, upright life supported by an unswerving belief in a- sufficient faith. The enjoyment with v.hit'h he presents Tarn O’Sbantor and laughs with him, but never at him, appeals to the reader tremendously, and the uncompromising condemnation of all hypocrisy justifies the approval of all sincere people. There is therefore small wonder that the .one man who has proved himself the sufficient voice of Ids countrymen, and lias so well expressed their sentiments, struggles, -superstitions and hopes should capture the love .which is accorded the national poet of astrong, virile race.