y direful consequences to himself
and his family. He made many resolutions of amendment; but temperance
was a very rare virtue in those days, and Burns, who could not bear it,
was expected to drink just as much as those who could bear it, and who
could afford it. His genius suffered from this irregular life, and in a
little while he was not capable of doing justice to himself in his
writings; but he continued to be good company at table, and to be
invited with the local magnates, long after he had become a confirmed
drunkard. The farm was given up, and he soon depended entirely upon his
seventy pounds a year, the pay of an exciseman. He felt his degradation
very deeply, and had fearful struggles with his temptation, but was
always overborne. The horrible sufferings of genius in such thraldom
have never been adequately represented, nor indeed can they ever be.
When the will has become so enfeebled that no real resistance can be
made, while yet pride and kind-heartedness survive, the agony of such a
man is appalling. He loves his family, he knows better than any other
all they suffer for his sake; he determines a thousand times to reform,
only to find himself powerless to do so. He strives with more than the
heroism of a martyr many times, but he is beaten. We often blame him for
his defeat, but there comes a time to such a man when defeat is
inevitable. Happy he who makes his manful struggle while there is yet
time. Poor Burns, alas, did not. He went from bad to worse, while his
wife and five small children suffered as the families of such men always
suffer. From October, 1795, to the January following, an accident
confined him to his house. A few days after he began to go out, he dined
at a tavern, and returned home about three o'clock of a very cold
morning, benumbed and intoxicated. This was followed by rheumatism. He
was never well again, though he lived until the end of June. His mind
during all this time was wrung with the most poignant agony in regard to
the family he must leave,--for he knew he should not recover. It is
heart-rending to read of his sufferings and remorse, and to know that on
the morning of her husband's funeral Mrs. Burns gave birth to another
child. It is pleasant to learn that a subscription was immediately taken
up for the destitute family, which placed them in comparative comfort.

"Fight who will," says Byron, "about words and forms, Burns's rank is in
the first class of his art;" and this ha