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He stood up not for himself only, but for the

 great class to which he belonged, and when

 in his davs-and too often in ours--had been

 insulted by the pride of superior station, when unsupported by personal merit, to to, eV- cry bold peasant a thing of scorn. 1hey

 love him. because he yindicated the ways oi God to man, by showing thatthere was more : genius and virtue in huts, than was dreamt oi in the worlds philosophy. They love hlm for his truthful pictures of the poor. N os there are seen slaves sullenly laborlng, or madly leaping in their channs, put Ill ha- tnre's bondage, content with their toll, seda'e in their sufTerings, in their recreatlons full o1 mirth-are seen Free Men. The poftraltufe' upon the whole, Is felt by us-and they kno" ito demand at times pity as due put challenges always respect, and more than re- spect for the condition which it g lorlfies- The Land of Burns What mean we by the

 words Something, surely, than that For

 tune. in mere blindness, had produced great poet here We look for the inspiring land- scape, and here it is; but what could all It's beauties have availed, had not people ln- habited it possessing all the sentiments, thoughts, aspirations, to which nature wllled to give voice in him of her choicest melo- i dy2 Nothing prodigious, after all, III the birth of such a poet among such people. Was any thing greater in the son than the austere resignation of the father? In hls humble compeers there was much of the same tender affection, sturdy ndepence, strong sense, self-relance as in him and so has Scotland been prolific, drought her low CT orders, of men who have made figure III

 her literature and her history; but to Burns nature gave finer organization, more pow erful heart, and an ampler brain, imbued with that mystery we call genius, and he stands forth conspicuous above all her sons.

 From the character have sketched of the Sottsh people, of old and at this day, 1t might perhaps beexpected thatmuch of their poetry would be of a stern, fierce, or even, feroeI- ous knd-the poetry of bloodshed and des- structon. Yet not so Ballads enow, in- deed, there are, imbued with the true warllke sprit-narrativ of exploits of heroes. But many a fragmentary verse, preserved by Its own beauty, survives to prove that gentlest poetry has ever been the produce both of heathery mountain and broomy brae; but the names of thessweet singers are heard no more, and the plough has gone over their graves. And they bad their music too, plain tive or drge-like, as it sighed for the absent, or walled for the dead. The fragments were caught up, as they Aoated about in decay i; and by him, the sweetest lyrist of them all, were often reyvifed by happy word that Io+ ;a o oe,,l er b1- n foyp +o,cbos of bie ITO

 nius, the fragment became whole, so ex- quisitely woulded that none may tell what lines belong to Burns, and what to the poet of ancient days. They all belong to him now, for but for him they would have per- ished utterly; while his own matchless Tyr ics, altogether original, find the breath ol life on the lips ol a people who have gotten them all by heart. What a triumph of the divine faculty thus to translate the inarticuate lan- guage of human nature isto every answering meditation of human speech! And with such felicity, that the verse Is now as na- tional as the music Throughout all these exquisite songs, we see the power of an ele. ment which we. raised by rank and education into ignorance, might not have surmsed in the mind of the people, The love-songs of Burns are prominent in the poetry of the world for their purity. Love, truly felt and understood, in the bosom of Scottish pea sant, has produced a crowd of strains which are owned for the genuine and chaste lan- guage of the passion, by highly, as well as by lowly born-by cultured and by ruder minds-that may charm in naughty saloons

 not less than under smoke -blackened roofs Impassioned beyond all the songs of passion

 yet, in the fearless fervor of remembered transports, pure as hymeneals; and dear therefore, forever to Scottish maidens il hours when hearts are wooed and won

 dear, therefore, forever to Scottish matrons

 who, at household work, happy to hear them from their daughters lips. And he, too, is the Poet of their friendships. A stanzas in- stinct with blithe and cordial antics, more brotherly the grasp of peasants in peasants toil-hardened hands The kindliness oi their nature, not chilled, though oppressed with care, how ready at his bidding-at the repeated air of few exquisite but unsought- for words of hls-to start up all alive! He is the Poet of all their humanites. His Daisy has made all the flowers of Scotland dear HIS uCOTldllu IldS US Wllu lllldDlldnIS, whose cry is sweet. For sake of the old dumb fel- low-servant which his farmer gratefully ad- dressed on entering on another year of labor, how many ofits kind have been fed orspared? In the winter storm 'tis useless to think of the sailor on his slippery shrouds; but the '.outland eerie cattle' he teaches his feres to care for in the drifting snow. In what jo- cund strains he celebrates their amusements, their recreations, their festivals, passionately pursued in all their pith by people in the business of life grave and determined as if 1t left no hours for play Gait, dress, domi- cile, furniture, throughout all his poetry, are Scottish as their dialect; and sometimes, in the pride of his heart, he rejoices by such nationality to provoke some aliens smile

 The sickle, the scythe, the Gail, the spade, the mattock, and the hoe, have been taken more cheerlully by many toil-worn cottar, because of the poetry with which Burns has invested the very implements of labor. Now and then too, here and there peals forth the clangor of the war-trumpet But Burns IS