man, "Mr. R----
had quitted the parish; and, had it chanced otherwise, it is
questionable whether M'Glashan, with all his strength and courage, would
have gained anything in an encounter with one of the boldest and most
powerful men in the country."

Such were some of the chance glimpses which I gained, at this time, of
by far the most powerful of the opponents of Burns. He was a good,
conscientious man; but unfortunate in a harsh, violent temper, and in
sometimes mistaking, as my old townsman remarked, the dictates of that
temper for those of duty.

CHAPTER VI.

"It's hardly in a body's pow'r
To keep at times frae being sour,
To see how things are shar'd--
How best o' chiels are whiles in want,
While coofs on countless thousands rant,
And kenna how to wair't."--_Epistle to Davie._

I visited my friend, a few days after my arrival in Irvine, at the
farm-house of Mossgiel, to which, on the death of his father, he had
removed, with his brother Gilbert and his mother. I could not help
observing that his manners were considerably changed: my welcome seemed
less kind and hearty than I could have anticipated from the warm-hearted
peasant of five years ago, and there was a stern and almost supercilious
elevation in his bearing, which at first pained and offended me. I had
met with him as he was returning from the fields after the labours of
the day; the dusk of twilight had fallen; and, though I had calculated
on passing the evening with him at the farm-house of Mossgiel, so
displeased was I, that, after our first greeting, I had more than half
changed my mind. The recollection of his former kindness to me, however,
suspended the feeling, and I resolved on throwing myself on his
hospitality for the night, however cold the welcome.

"I have come all the way from Irvine to see you, Mr. Burns," I said.
"For the last five years, I have thought more of my mother and you than
of any other two persons in the country. May I not calculate, as of old,
on my supper and a bed?"

There was an instantaneous change in his expression.

"Pardon me, my friend," he said, grasping my hand; "I have, unwittingly,
been doing you wrong; one may surely be the master of an Indiaman and
in possession of a heart too honest to be spoiled by prosperity!"

The remark served to explain the haughty coldness of his manner which
had so displeased me, and which was but the unwillingly assumed armour
of a defen