is so agreeable to the levelling instincts of
ordinary humanity, and of such sweet consolation to the weaker brethren.
Of course there are variants of the story, with a stair and sleep and
snow brought in as sensational, if improbable, accessories; but such
stories as these all good men refuse to believe, unless they are
compelled to do so by the conclusive evidence of direct authority; and
that, in this case, is altogether awanting. All evidence that has been
forthcoming has gone directly against it, and the story may be accepted
as a myth. The fact is that brains have been ransacked to find reason
for the poet's early death,--as if the goings and comings of death could
be scientifically calculated in biography,--and the last years of his
'irregular life' are blamed: Dumfries is set apart as the chief sinner.
No doubt his life was irregular there; his duties were irregular; his
hours were irregular. But Burns in his thirty-six years, had lived a
full life, putting as much into one year as the ordinary sons of men put
into two. He had had threatenings of rheumatism and heart disease when
he was an overworked lad at Lochlea; and now his constitution was
breaking up from the rate at which he had lived. Excess of work more
than excess of drink brought him to an early grave. During his few
years' stay at Dumfries he had written over two hundred poems, songs,
etc., many of them of the highest excellence, and most of them now
household possessions. Besides his official duties, we know also that he
took a great interest in his home and in the education of his children.
Mr. Gray, master of the High School of Dumfries, who knew the poet
intimately, wrote a long and interesting letter to Gilbert Burns, in
which he mentions particularly the attention he paid to his children's
education. 'He was a kind and attentive father, and took great delight
in spending his evenings in the cultivation of the minds of his
children. Their education was the grand object of his life; and he did
not, like most parents, think it sufficient to send them to public
schools; he was their private instructor; and even at that early age
bestowed great pains in training their minds to habits of thought and
reflection, and in keeping them pure from every form of vice. This he
considered a sacred duty, and never to his last illness relaxed in his
diligence.'

Throughout the winter of 1795 and spring of 1796, he could only keep up
an irregular correspondence