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ROBERT BURNS, the son of a small farmer, was born on the banks of the Doon, near to the town of Ayr in Scotland, on the 29th of January, 1759. Died at Dumfries, holding the office of an exciseman, on the 21st of July, 1796, in
the 38th year of his age. Burns is emphatically THE POET OF THE HEART! Every thing he ever wrote flowed spontaneously direct from the heart, and under the unfailing guidance of Truth and Nature does he ever triumphantly win his way resistless to the heart, and while Truth and Nature exist will he live in the heart of the whole world! Ay, even of the whole world; for the memory and the immortal part of Robert Burns is confined to neither country, nor clime, nor hemisphere.
“ A true poet," says eloquent Thomas Carlyle, “a man in whose heart resides some influence of wisdom, some tone of the "eternal melodies,' is the most precious gift that can be bestowed on a generation."
Cordially admitting this, are we not justified in drawing the corollary that each succeeding generation is intellectually richer than the preceding one? for poets do not die-they are deathless. Wealthy, therefore, as we are already in the accumulated stores