When John was contending (though sure to be beat) And a crusty old fellow remarked, to his face, -Saxé. NOTE. The proof-reader in Lynchburg is responsible for the last four pages of this number. Subscribers are requested not to visit its shortcomings upon the heads of the editors.PROOF-READER. THE SOUTHERN COLLEGIAN, WASHINGTON AND LEE UNIVERSITY. VOL. XIII. FEBRUARY, 1881. BURNS. NUMBER IV. UR great authors such as Milton and Shakspeare are so voluminous and have their principal characteristics so familiarly fixed in the mind of the average reader, that a criticism, such as a college student would write on them, must appear stale and profitless, if not to the student whose mind is trained and whose critical facilities are sharpened by the labor required in studying them, at least to those who may be reasonably expected to read and profit by these, his first essays. If, then, there are good reasons why we should not attempt such, and should continue to regard the productions of these great lights of English literature as too sacred and venerable for our sacrilegious touch, it remains to decide which of, our authors we may approach with any probability of arousing an interest for the subject in the minds of our readers, and which we may fairly criticise without incurring the charge of unorthodoxy in taste, or else of following blindly in the footsteps of others. And here it were best to be cautious, so as not to fall on one remarkable for labored and artificial sentiments, but to select an author whose verses were dictated by the natural feelings of the mind. By the natural feelings of the mind we do not mean those feelings which have their origin in the low, selfish or sensual passions of our nature, and we believe that a poet may be true to nature, and yet infinitely distant from the vulgar or commonplace. In selecting such a one for his criticism, the critic has the very great advantage of being in sympathy with the author-that which seldom occurs when a youthful writer sets himself, through mere determination, to criticise the productions of one whose thoughts have been turned from their natural bent, and whose mind has been corrupted by art. Keeping in view what has been before said, we have thought to find a suitable subject for our pen in Burns; and if we regard for a moment his life and works, we will find there all the qualities and characteristics which we have laid down as requisite. The immense popularity of Burns among the lower orders of his countrymen, both in Scotland and in this country, shows him to have been eminently the poet of the heart and the natural feelings of man; for, while the masses of the people are unable to express formally in lengthy dissertation their opinion of an author, they still, by their silence or their applause, respectively show when he has failed or succeeded in attaining the natural. Further, we will say that had Burns not been a true poet, he would never have been a poet at all. Exotics do not long bear the bracing air of more northern climes. They grow and flourish only in the green-house. So your second-rate poet rarely emerges from the obscurity of an humble station. To learning and its perverted advantages are we indebted for the tribes of rhymesters and poetasters with their superficial and acquired tastes. Burns was not pampered into greatness by wealth or the culture which wealth alone affords, and nothing but his genius could have risen above the poverty of his condition or the meanness of his lot. That genius which would have adorned any sphere in life and which, under happier auspices, might have imparted a new and enduring interest to the world of romance and fiction, did not disdain the scenes and incidents of the humble walks of life in which he daily moved. He did not seek abroad subjects worthy of his pen, but seized with unerring judgment upon the rich, quaint features of peasant life. Thus the character of his poetry was determined by the character of his surroundings. Under other circumstances he would most probably have shone as bright in another department. His keen wit, his droll humor, his touching pathos, his power of graphic delineation, the Pindaric fire which dictated Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, we are persuaded, would never have left him. We have before remarked that Burns' condition in life furnished him with subjects for his muse. If Homer had been obliged to plow for his daily bread, would he have sung of Troy and Priam and Agamemnon's noble following? Then instead of Ulysses with winged words that "fall like wintry snow-flakes" and the godlike warrior-forms clad in coats of mail, he would have whimpered forth: "Man was made to mourn!" It is hard work mounting into the sublime regions of the epic on a galled and wind-broken Pegasus. Now Burns, while choosing his subjects from among things which from contact and long association were perfectly familiar to him, was both by education and inclination very far removed from the artificial; and, though he was not wholly ignorant and valued learning highly, which assertion, however, the quotation which I am about to bring forward does not support, he still recognized the invaluable aid afforded by the genius of the poet. "Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire; Then tho' I drudge thro' dub and mire At pleugh or cart, My Muse, tho' hamely in attire, May touch the heart." I have before remarked the poverty of Burns, and indicated the coloring which it gave his verses. Indeed, unless we keep this continually before the mind, there are very many passages which we will fail to understand or appreciate. Born in indigence and nursed by the hand of poverty, he was one of the people, and sympathized sorely in their distresses. What most poets become acquainted with through the medium of observation, he felt through the medium of the senses. What wonder, then, if he excels others in denouncing the abuses of power and the oppression of the poor? Burns returned to his father's hut at night with aching brow and tired limbs, and, keenly alive to all the pains and trials of his humble lot, felt deeply the disparity in the condition of rich and poor. He saw the lordlings, at once haughty and foolish, dissipating their fortunes in the pursuit of base pleasures at Vienna, Versailles or Madrid, or in making love to the black-eyed signioras of modern Italy. "For Britain's guid! for her destruction! On the other hand: "See yonder poor, o'er-labor'd wight, So abject, mean and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth To give him leave to toil, And see his lordly fellow-worm And helpless offspring mourn." These things, for which hitherto all remedy has been unavailing, have made many sad. It could not but be expected that Burns, with his sensitive nature, even though they had been less forced upon his attention, would have been peculiarly alive to them; and he sympathized with suffering humanity as only Burns could. He rejoiced in any plan calculated to bring about an amelioration in the condition of the lower classes, and thoroughly detested the brutishness and stupidity which an aristocracy of wealth and power too often sets over the people as guides and models. His enthusiasm in this direction caused him to sympathize with the revolu |