THE HOME LIFE OF BURNS.

M

OST of us recognise that the home life of Robert Burns was capable of improvement; yet we should not forget that the National Poet lived at a time when hard drinking was the rule and not the exception amongst countless thousands of the people, high and low, rich and poor, so it is not fair to apply to Burns the moral standards of the present day. It has been clearly demonstrated by those in a position to judge, that Burns was not a drunken sot, as certain of his detractors would lead us to believe; on the contrary, he was able to pursue his avocation, either as ploughman, gauger, or poet. A man addicted to liquor, addicted to it in the sense of generally being "fou and unco happy," could not have produced what Burns produced in the way of literature. When we take into account the length of his years (he was only 38 when he died), the hard lot which he had to experience, and the opportunities placed within his reach to cultivate to the fullest extent that which was nearest his heart-the making of a sang for puir ald Scotland's sake-we must realise that he accomplished wonders. His output was marvellous, considering the quality of his work, in the domain of literature. To the uninspired, the writing of songs and poems is frequently dreary work, and always mechanical; but to Burns the muse was a passion, and therefore amongst the greatest of earthly pleasures. The temperament of Burns was of the self-revealing kind. He never paraded his virtues before an admiring world, but he was always ready to depreciate his own sins of omission and commission. This man had none of the hypocrisy that is so prevalent to-day.

great ladies'

We all know the National Poet was a
As Lord Rosebery has reminded us, he fell in love

man."

with every girl he met, but only in one case did his passion end in marriage. His heroines are numerous, amongst the number being Highland Mary," "Clarinda," Peggy Alison, and Mary Morison. We refer, of course, to those who never made an alliance in the matrimonial sense with Burns. It was the ladies of position and the country lasses that stimulated his muse always to the highest point, and but for the weaker sex, as they are called despite the virility of many of the suffragists, we would have been without many of his poetic gems. A glance at his poems and songs reveals the beauty and power of his work in honour of the fair sex. No poet admired the qualities of the female sex more than Burns. They kindled his wit and waukened his lear. No matter where Burns was,

he never "lost his head" in the presence of the fair sex. It may be said that in one way he lost his head " frequently as a ladies' man," but that is not what is implied here. Burns was always natural, even in the presence of ladies o' lang pedigree and the literati of Edinburgh. The Duchess of Gordon of his day was held spellbound by his conversation, while men eminent in their various callings were similarly affected. In the presence of women, Burns invariably gave of his best; his marvellous eyes sparkled, he was overflowing with wit and humour, and he had always the heart of the genuine man the heart that felt for human woe, and was touched by everything that revealed true nobility of character.

Jean Armour, the Mauchline mason's daughter, proved a good wife. Those of us who have read and studied the life of the Poet know he sinned at times, sinned grievously; yet Jean Armour, with that affection and devotion characteristic of women, shut her eyes to his failings and pursued the even tenor of her way in an uncomplaining spirit. For so doing Jean Armour is deserving of a warm corner in the hearts of all admirers of the Poet. One of his best known songs was written in her honour, a song that has thrilled

audiences in all parts of the world.

If

That song, characteristic o the style of Burns in love affairs, has conferred upon Jean immortality. In his love songs there is often the note of unconscious exaggeration; all his heroines are angels. we had seen and known them all in the flesh we might have been, as his brother Gilbert broadly hints, a trifle disappointed. There can be no doubt Jean Armour proved a faithful and devoted wife, and contributed greatly to the domestic happiness of the Poet. She was always jealous of the good name and the fame of her husband. When her parents thought little of Burns, she remained true, though she did not realise at the time that Burns would become one of the immortals. The female sex has been honoured and ennobled by Jean Armour's conduct during her days of courtship, her married life, and her period of widowhood. She is a singularly sweet and fascinating character, especially to those who know the ways of the simple country-folk in Scotland.

A well-known Dumfries journalist, Mr Wm. M'Diarmid, was an intimate friend of Mrs Burns, the widow of the Poet, and for about fifteen years preceding her death in 1834 he acted as her adviser on all occasions, her amanuensis, and the safe repository of her thoughts and feelings on a number of subjects. Mr M'Diarmid noted down from the lips of Mrs Burns facts as to her illustrious husband which have helped to remove many of the misconceptions formed regarding Burns. Dealing with the Poet's residence at Ellisland he says, he read books not always seen in people's hands on the first day of the week, yet he never neglected his Bible. On one occasion a woman named Nance Kelly and the Bard were sitting together in the "spence," when the conversation drifted into religious channels. Burns quoted so much Scripture that Nance was greatly astonished. Up to that day she had been labouring under the impression that the Poet was wanting in true religious feeling, and that he was not sound in the accepted doctrines of the time. On meeting her husband, she ex

"lift

Burns enjoyed the

claimed, "Oh, David Kelly, hoo they hae wranged that man (Burns), for I think he has mair o' the Bible aff his tongue than Mr Inglis himsel'." The Mr Inglis referred to by the woman was the anti-burgher minister. compliment, and almost the first thing he communicated to his wife on her arrival was the he had got from Nance. Burns was an omnivorous reader. If he lay long in bed, he was always reading. "At all meals he had a book beside him on the table. He did his work in the forenoon, and was seldom engaged professionally in the evening. at home in the evening he employed his time in writing and reading, with the children playing about him. Their prattle never disturbed him in the least." It was only on rare occa

When

sions that Burns and his wife had company in the evening. He was much occupied in composing his songs, and we are told that, "having plenty of Excise paper, he scrawled away." Jean Armour thought-and she was no mean judge -her husband composed chiefly while riding and walking, and that he wrote from memory after he returned home. Burns was not a good singer, but he had a very correct ear. He was very particular with letters of importance, and uniformly wrote a scroll before penning the principal one. He went to bed generally at eleven o'clock, and sometimes a little sooner. He attended church frequently, and was a regular visitor at the manse of the dissenting clergyman. He never took supper, and never drank by himself at home. The Poet assisted his children with their lessons, explaining to them everything they had difficulty in understanding. He

was most strict in impressing on their minds the value and beauty and necessity of truth. He would have forgiven them any slight fault, but to have told a lie was in his eyes almost an inexpiable offence. He used to read the Bible to William, Francis, and Robert; and William was in the habit of remarking, after his death, "Mother, I cannot see those sublime things in the Bible that my father used to see."

Burns read the big family Bible frequently-the book that is to be seen in the Museum at Alloway, and for which the trustec: paid a fabulous price.

Are we to believe

Burns was happy in his home life, which is a pattern to many to-day. At certain stages of his career he "sowed his wild oats," a habit of large numbers in all ranks yet, despite the preaching in many pulpits and the evangel of the better day. He was alive to his duties and responsibilities as a husband and a citizen of the British Empire; and had he lived in our day we can guess in which direction his sympathies would have been shown. We can generally judge a man by the life he leads at home. the dictum of some that the Poet died a drunkard, and that he passed away a reviled and discredited man? People who talk in that way are capable of believing anything. Their minds are always open to assimilate the vapourings of the slanderer, and to condemn people on the flimsiest of pretexts. Is it reasonable to assume that Mrs Buns and others in a position to judge laid their heads together, as it were, and concocted a fictitious story as to the habits and the home life of the Poet? Such an idea should be banished from the minds of the doubting in our day and in days that lie ahead. It is true Burns died in the agony of despair. He was a physical wreck, worn out before his time ; yet that was in no sense due to ultra-vicious habits, but to the hard work of his youth and his own neglect in husbanding properly the highly-strung constitution with which he had been endowed. We have conclusive evidence by Jessie Lewars, Syme, Maxwell, Mrs Burns, and others who saw him at all seasons and in different moods, that the Poet was not nearly so bad as he was painted by the lying tongues of the gossips of Dumfries. However, Dumfries has made ample amends for the work of certain sections of its citizens of the Poet's day. That town possesses his tomb and preserves justifiably, with other towns and other com