never did nature and fortune combine more completely to make a man great, and to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies have merited from man an everlasting remembrance. For his was the singular destiny and merit of leading the armies of his country successfully through an arduous war for the establishment of its independence; of conducting its councils through the birth of a government, new in its forms and principles, until it had settled down into a quiet and orderly train; and of scrupulously obeying the laws through the whole of his career, civil and military, of which the history of the world furnishes no other example. A PROFESSION OF POLITICAL FAITH1 I SHALL make to you a profession of my political faith, in confidence that you will consider every future imputation on me of a contrary complexion, as bearing on its front the mark of falsehood and calumny. I do then, with sincere zeal, wish an inviolable preservation of our present federal constitution, according to the true sense in which it was adopted by the states, that in which it was advocated by its friends, and not that which its enemies apprehended, who therefore became its enemies and I am opposed to the monarchizing its features by the forms of its administration, with a view to conciliate a first transition to a president and senate for life, and from that to an hereditary tenure of these offices, and thus to worm out the elective principle. I am for preserving to the states the powers not yielded by them to the Union, and to the legislature of the Union its constitutional share in the division of powers: and I am not for transferring all the powers of the states to the general government, and all those of that government to the executive branch. 1 Letter to Elbridge Gerry, Jan. 26, 1799. I am for a government rigorously frugal and simple, applying all the possible savings of the public revenue to the discharge of the national debt: and not for a multiplication of officers and salaries merely to make partisans, and for increasing by every device the public debt, on the principle of its being a public blessing. : I am for relying, for internal defence, on our militia solely, till actual invasion, and for such a naval force only as may protect our coasts and harbors from such depredations as we have experienced and not for a standing army in time of peace, which may overawe the public sentiment; nor for a navy, which, by its own expenses, and the eternal wars in which it will implicate us, will grind us with public burthens, and sink us under them. I am for free commerce with all nations; political connection with none; and little or no diplomatic establishment. And I am not for linking ourselves by new treaties with the quarrels of Europe, entering that field of slaughter to preserve their balance, or joining in the confederacy of kings to war against the principles of liberty. I am for freedom of religion, and against all maneuvers to bring about a legal ascendency of one sect over another: for freedom of the press, and against all violations of the constitution to silence by force and not by reason the complaints or criticisms, just or unjust, of our citizens against the conduct of their agents. And I am for encouraging the progress of Science in all its branches and not for raising a hue and cry against the sacred name of philosophy; for awing the human mind by stories of raw-head and bloody-bones to a distrust of its own vision, and to repose implicitly on that of others. : BURNS 1759-1796 ROBERT BURNS, the son of a small farmer, was born near Ayr, Scotland, in 1759, and died in 1796. He manifested at an early age an eager appetite for learning; but his opportunities for gratifying it were few: in the country school he gained the rudiments of an education in English branches, and in Reobert Burns later life learned something of French, Latin, and the higher mathematics. It is worthy of note that one of his favorite books, in boyhood, was Shakespeare's plays. At the age of sixteen he began to write verses, striving to express in rhyme the emotions excited by his first affair of the heart. These youthful compositions were circulated in manuscript among his acquaintances, and finally came to the notice of some persons of literary taste, who persuaded Burns to publish a volume. The venture at once brought him fame. He visited Edinburgh on invitation of Dr. Blacklock, and was well received in the brilliant society of that city. A second edition of his poems, published in 1787, yielded him a profit of seven hundred pounds. But his gain in fame and money from his visit to the Scottish capital was more than offset by the formation of habits which were destined to impede his literary progress and to bring him to an early grave. His rank among poets it is not easy to determine, though Lord Byron placed him among the first. It is probable that in this estimate Byron regarded his promise rather than his performance. But it may safely be said that of all poets who have sprung from the people, receiving almost no aid from education, he was one of the very greatest. He was the poet of passion and feeling, his utterances were simple and natural, owing none of their force or beauty to art. In the course of a sketch of the life and work of Burns, Robert Louis Stevenson says: "In an age when poetry had become abstract and conventional, instead of continuing to deal with shepherds, thunder-storms, and personification, Burns dealt with the actual circumstances of his life, however matter-of-fact and sordid these might be. And in a time when English versification was particularly stiff, lame, and feeble, and words were used with ultra-academical timidity, he wrote verses that were easy, racy, graphic, and forcible, and used language with absolute tact and courage, as it seemed most fit to give a clear impression." MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN WHEN chill November's surly blast I spied a man whose aged step Seemed weary, worn with care : His face was furrowed o'er with years, And hoary was his hair. "Young stranger, whither wanderest thou?" Began the reverend sage; "Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain, Or youthful pleasure's rage? |