hich he dedicated to the
noblemen and gentlemen of the Caledonian Hunt in a page of manly prose,
the proud modesty and the worldly tact of which must have delighted
them. "The poetic genius of my country found me," he wrote, "as the
prophetic bard Elijah did Elisha, and threw her inspiring mantle over
me. She bade me sing the loves, the joys, the rural scenes and rural
pleasures of my native soil in my native tongue. I tuned my wild,
artless notes as she inspired. She whispered me to come to this ancient
metropolis of Caledonia and lay my songs under your honored protection.
I now obey her dictates." His mind was not active at this time, for
beyond a few trivial verses he wrote nothing worthy of him except a
short but characteristic 'Epistle to the Guidwife of Wauchope House.' He
spent the winter of 1786 and the spring of 1787 in Edinburgh; and summer
being close at hand, he resolved to return for a time to Mossgiel. There
were strong reasons for his return, some of which pertained to his
impoverished family, whom he was now in a condition to assist, for the
new edition of his Poems had proved profitable to himself, and
others--for before his departure for Edinburgh, Jean had borne twins, a
boy and a girl; and the girl was being cared for at Mossgiel. He
returned therefore to his family and his child, and whether he purposed
to do so or not, to the mother of his child. It was not a wise thing to
do, perhaps, but it was a human thing, and very characteristic of the
man, who, whatever else he was not, was very human. And the Armours were
very human also, for old Armour received him into his house, and Jean
received him into her arms. She was not a prudent young woman, but she
was a fond and forgiving one.

The life of Burns during the next twelve months may be briefly
described. He returned to Edinburgh, where in his most serious moods he
held sessions of thought. It may have been a silent one, but it was not
a sweet one; for while he summoned up remembrance of things past, he
summoned up apprehensions of things to come. That he had won distinction
as a poet was certain; what was not certain was the duration of this
distinction. He was famous to-day; he might be forgotten to-morrow. But
famous or forgotten, he and those dependent on him must have bread; and
since he saw no reasonable prospect of earning it with his head, he must
earn it with his hands. They were strong and willing. So he leased a
farm at Ellisland in Dumf