The cripple or paralytic was carried from farm to farm with the same care and regularity as the stage conveyed its travellers from one post to another. All these found crust and clothing and kindness wherever they chanced to wander. The Lords of Little Egypt lived in something that resembled a regal state, while cairds and tinklers, fiddlers and gaberlunzies, minstrels and mountebanks, rejoiced in an easy tolerance. No one counted it a disgrace when a Scottish King assumed the "blue-gown badge and claithing." The " aumos dish -a wooden vessel carried for broken meats and oatmeal-the "mealy bags and knapsack a' in order," the horn or fiddle or staff, even the 66 orra duds were a passport to the pity and the pockets of a generation which had not forgotten to be charitable. But now

"Old times were changed, old manners gone;

The bigots of the iron time

Had called his harmless art a crime,"

and with the minstrel every wanderer passed beneath the frown and ban of Society. The better and more honest types soon vanished and, as Burns wrote in "A Winter Night," the sons of affliction became brothers in distress." One feature, however, remained which was worth preserving. The vigilant eye of the Poet perceived it as he watched the carouse of the beggarly rant that filled the kitchen. Prowling tinklers they might be, thievish cairds, mis-shapen fiddlers, rough, daft, or wretched, but the freemasonry of the road had handed down to them from their forebears a traditional gift of song. With this they were able and wont to defy "Daddy Care" with such success that they I could bid him 'Whistle o'er the lave o't." The last vestiges of an ancient minstrelsy lingered in their recollection. Of each one it might be said—

66

"He had nae wish but to be glad,

Nor want but when he thirsted,

He hated nought but to be sad,
And thus the Muse suggested
His sang that night."

Perhaps none but a genuine poet could have detected the native gift which lay hidden beneath such an unpromising exterior, or discovered that the "Jolly Beggars" drew their melody from so reputable a spring. His own fate had taught him to honour

The bard of no regard

Wi' gentle folks and a' that,”

just as his unstilted and unstinted genius enabled him to recognise a fellow-poet in the one who could say"I never drank the Muse's stank (pool),

Castalia's burn, and a' that;

But there it streams, and richly reams,
My Helicon I ca' that."

The true test of the singer's power lay in the fascination which, like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, he exercised over "the glowran byke (staring swarm)" that, following, he drew" frae town to town.”

So then Burns adds another debt to the many which we owe him. He has fixed for ever this one last glimpse of a fading and fugitive company. Would any other have brought to the task such large-heartedness, such quick sympathy? Was there not in Burns something that drew him into instinctive fellowship with the flotsam and jetsam of Society? Scattered through his poems we have lines which seem to bear this out. Thus, in the Epistle to Davie, he says "the best o' chiels are whiles in want," showing that he knew too well the pinching poverty which lightened the never heavy wallet of the beggar. In the same poem he numbers himself among those "wha drudge and drive thro' wet and dry," fathoming yet another experience of the vagrant. And had he not also the Wanderlust in his own veins ? For in the Second Epistle

he exclaims

"Of a' the thoughtless sons of men.

Commen' me to the hardie clan,

Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme of livin',

Nae cares to gi'e us joy or grievin'

But just the pouchie put the nieve in

An' while aught's there."

That he had thought of such a life and found much to recommend its liberty, we gather from the Second Epistle to Lapraik, in which occurs this prayer

"O Thou wha gi'es us each guid gift,
Gi'e me o' wit an' sense a lift,

Then turn me, if Thou please, adrift
Through Scotland wide."

No one could better appreciate the life which reduces its wants to a minimum, or the power of Nature to console its child for what the world and Fortune denied, than Robert Burns. Light in pocket, light of heart, he was himself the Prince of Beggars; he had all the insignia of the royal minstrel clan, and with them found fellowship. Whatever happiness he had, came to him as he sought the woods and hills, and only when he freed himself from convention or restraint could he find the inspiration which bade him say

It is in the genuine spirit of healthy vagabondage that he pledges the toast

"Here's to budgets, bags, and wallets!

Here's to all the wandering train!"

N. FARQUHAR ORR, B.A., B.D.

UNVEILING OF ROBERT BURNS STATUE

AT DETROIT.

ΟΝ

N 23rd July, 1921, Royal Tanist Colonel Walter Scott unveiled a statue of Robert Burns in the city of Detriot amid scenes of enthusiasm never to be forgotten by any of that vast gathering of American Scots. This is an event of which the Order of Scottish Clans may well feel inordinately proud. It seems fitting that a tribute of respect be paid Past Royal Deputy Edward Goodwillie, who originated the plan and worked indefatigably to carry it to a successful issue. That statue standing in beautiful Cass Park is a monument not only to our National Bard, but a monument to Scottish perseverance and steadfast fidelity to a Herculean task. Brother Goodwillie laid the foundation of his work by compiling a book on the Burns Statues that is world-wide in its scope. In spite of all difficulties, he started out with splendid courage to present the city of Detroit with one of the finest statues of the Poet of Humanity" that has ever been erected, and his heart must have swelled with the pride of achievement, as he turned the statue out to Mayor Couzens as a gift to the city of Detroit.

In 1912 Goodwillie organised the Burns Club, and has been its president continuously. At the same time Mrs Goodwillie ably seconded her husband's efforts by forming the Jean Armour Club, which under her presidency has laboured all these years wholeheartedly for the success of the great work. Inspiring and cheery when the hours were darkest, only the indominable courage of the Scot could have carried the work through the dark days of 1914. When the war-clouds swept over us and the storm broke over the world, Detroit was a border city, and when the

call to arms sounded, the Scots crossed to Canada and cast in their lot with the Motherland. The sons and daughters of Scotia gave themselves and all they had to the cause. and the statue had to take second place. But when the storm-clouds had been swept away, their work was resumed and carried to a successful finish. We, as Clansmen, feel proud that, in spite of the tremendous handicap, Scottish grit made possible what Mayor Couzens said was the greatest day Detroit had ever seen. It is peculiar that the very busy men, the men of big affairs, are always the men who have time to do something for their fellow-men. Brother Good willie is chief chemist of the greatest chemical company in this country, and devotion to his work has placed him where every minute of his time is full of problems that call for his best thought; and time devoted to this labour of love must of necessity have been taken from his leisure hours and the lamp must have burned many hours in his study as he wrought out his plans to honour Burns and Scotland. Fortunately for him and his work, Mrs Goodwillie was just as full of enthusiasm. She inspired every

Scotswoman with whom she came in contact.

Belonging to a family of sculptors, the Royal Deputy was peculiarly qualified to pass judgment on the Burns Statues already erected, and give to Detroit what is probably the finest in the world. Early in his campaign he succeeded in enlisting the interest of the Royal Tanist, and if there is a busier man in America or a more loyal Scot nobody has ever found him, yet he found time to give his loyal support to Brother Goodwillie's work, and it must have been a proud moment for him when he saw the wheels of industry stopped and the streets filled with a happy multitude doing honour to the land he loves and her matchless Burns. The photographer fortunately caught him with that eager happy smile as he read a telegram of regret from the Vice-President of this great land, who deemed it a high honour to have been invited to honour Robert Burns. That the Order of Scottish Clans has