"I shall enter into your undertaking with all the small portion of abilities that I have, strained to their utmost exertion by the impulse of enthusiasm. . . . As to remuneration you may think my songs either above or below price; for they shall be absolutely one or the other. In the honest enthusiasm with which I embark in your undertaking, to talk of money, wages, fee, hire, etc., would be downright prostitution of soul."

Burns' poverty-burdened and irregular life, brightened though it had been by genius, wit, humor, and local fame, had ended, in

1786, when he was entering upon his twenty-eighth year, in utter discontent with himself, the gloomiest sort of despondency, and a determination to leave his native land and find a new home and, if possible, begin a new and better life on a plantation in the West Indies. The father of his chosen Jean would not allow him formally to marry her, and had himself destroyed the document which had certified to their secret contract. He was every moment in danger of being imprisoned because he could not furnish security for the upbringing of his infant children. His mind was distracted by other ties, of one of which the memory, three years later, was the inspiration of the most beau

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tiful of all his love lyrics, that immortal "burst of passion," as Professor Wilson calls it, beginning:

"Thou ling`ring star with less'ning ray

That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher'st in the day

My Mary from my soul was torn ;

Oh, Mary! dear, departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?"

And he was fast becoming a prey to despair: —

"Oppressed with grief, oppressed with care,

A burden more than I can bear,

I set me down and sigh:

Oh, life! thou art a galling load,
Along a rough, a weary road,
To wretches such as I!

Dim backward as I cast my view,
What sickening scenes appear!
What sorrows yet may pierce me thro`,
Too justly I may fear!

Still caring, despairing,

Must be my bitter doom:

My woes here shall close ne'er

But with the closing tomb!"

So utterly helpless was Burns' position at this time (1786, when he was in his twenty-eighth year) that he had not money enough even to purchase a steerage passage to Jamaica, whither in his distress he had determined to flee. Some friends, however, suggested the publishing his poems, and took upon themselves the task of getting subscriptions for them. In July the little vol

momentous.

ume, "Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, by Robert Burns," accordingly appeared. Though published in a country town (Kilmarnock, Ayrshire), unheralded by advertisements, and unnoticed by critics and reviewers, its fame soon spread throughout all the Scottish lowlands. Equally by learned and unlearned, by gentry and by people, was its author applauded as the bard of Scotland. With money obtained from the sale of the book the passage for Jamaica was secured and paid for, but the voyage was never undertaken. A change had come in the fortunes of the "Ayrshire Ploughman" (the name by which he was fondly called), both sudden and The literati of the nation sought him out. Great people of every degree evinced their interest in him, and honored him with their correspondence. Hope sprang up once more in his breast. With encouragement pouring in upon him from every quarter, he went to Edinburgh (November, 1786), in the thought that perchance some substantial good fortune would accrue to him there. So far as friendly attentions and kind. words were of value, he was not disappointed. He was welcomed with the applause of the entire capital. He was fêted and he was feasted, and for a whole winter he was the lion of the town. His head, however, was never turned. He remained the same sincere, self-respecting poet ploughman he had ever been. He knew, perhaps only too well, the real significance of his sudden accession to fame; and he had good sense enough not to take it too seriously, nay, even to treat it humorously:

"This wot ye all whom it concerns,

I, Rhymer Robin, alias Burns,

October twenty-third,

By April of the next year (1787), however, he had effected the principal object which he had in view when he first set out for Edinburgh, he had secured the publication of the second edition of his poems. This "second edition" was received with the utmost eclat. The best names in Scotland eagerly came forward to assist in the subscription for it; and Burns soon found himself not only famous, but in the command of considerable money. The ultimate profit of the poet because of its publication was not less than £500.

These two volumes of verse, the first, or Kilmarnock, edition of his poems, and the second, or "Edinburgh, edition, were all the literary work from which Burns received any pecuniary benefit. And, with the exception of "Tam o' Shanter" and "The Wounded Hare," these two editions contained almost all the work other than his songs that he was destined to write. In fact, the earlier book, the Kilmarnock edition, contained the greater part of those poems for which, other than his songs, he is held in highest esteem by his countrymen, - his familiar "Epistles," "The Holy Fair," "Scotch. Drink," "Hallowe'en," "The Twa Dogs," "Poor Mailie's Elegy," "The Address to the De'il," "To a 2 Slope.

1 Clambered.

8 Over six feet tall.

Mountain Daisy," "To a Mouse," and that most revered of all his writings, "The Cotter's Saturday Night." Some poems of his youth, however, equally famous with any of the foregoing, were not included in the volume, and were, indeed, not published in book form during the poet's lifetime; as, for example, "The Twa Herds," "Holy Willie's Prayer," and "The Jolly Beggars," the last of which is pronounced by both Carlyle and Sir Walter Scott the finest of all his poems. Most of these earlier poems of Burns were written in the garret of the house at Mossgiel, when he was in his twenty-fifth, his twenty-sixth, and his twenty-seventh years; but others were written previously at Lochlea, and some even during his youthful and distressful years at Mount Oliphant. Almost every poem that Burns wrote was suggested by some bit of personal history, or some local event in which he took an interest, so that it is impossible to separate his poetry from his biography. Indeed, Burns' poems are his best and truest revelation. In the second, or Edinburgh, edition of his poetry some notable additions were made, as, for example, " Death and Dr. Hornbook," "The Brigs of Ayr," "The Ordination," "The Address to the Unco Guid," and the "Address to a Haggis "; but the new volume marked no development in the poetic career of the author; and when Burns retired from Edinburgh to his farm at Ellisland (1788) his days as poet, other than as song-writer, were practically over.

Burns unfortunately was a long time in getting a settlement with his Edinburgh publishers, and in order to get a settlement at all lived a second winter (17871788) in the capital, which proved to be no blessing to him. In the summer and autumn of 1787, however, he