Scotland/Scots > Life of Robert Burns

ROBERT BURNS.
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very first rank, in prose; even in poetry, a bard
of Natures making can alone take the pas of him.
He lias a heart, not of the very finest water, but
far from being an ordinary one. In short, he is a
truly worthy and most respectable character. ”
“ Once,” says a nice speculator on the 4 follies
of the wise, ’ *.—44 once we were nearly receiving
from the hand of genius the most curious sketches
of the temper, the irascible humours, the delicacy
of soul, even to its shadowiness, from the warm
sbozzos of Burns, when he began a diary of his
heart—a nanative of characters and events, and
a chronology of his emotions. It was natural for
such a creature of sensation and passion to project
such a regular task, but quite impossible to get
through it. ” This most curious document, it is
to be observed, has not yet been printed entire.
Another generation will, no doubt, see the whole
of the confession ; however, what has already been
given, it may be surmised, indicates sufficiently
the complexion of Burns’s prevailing moods, du¬
ring his moments of retirement, at this interesting
period of his history. It was in such a mood (they
recurred often enough) that he thus reproached
44 Nature—partial nature :
44 Thou givest the ass his hide, the snail his shell;
The envenom’d wasp victorious guards his cell:
But, oh ! thou bitter stepmother, and hard.
To thy poor fenceless naked child, the bard. .. .
In naked feeling and in aching pride.
He bears the unbroken blast from every side.”
There was probably no blast that pierced this
haughty soul so sharply as the contumely of con¬
descension.
44 One of the poet’s remarks, ” as Cromek tells
* D’Israeli on the Literary Character, vol. i. p. 136.