age of Scotland,
and of France. There was the venerable and venerated Lord
Justice-General Boyle, the President of the Scottish Courts, and chief
magistrate of the land, with the snows of more than seventy winters
lying lightly and gracefully upon his head. There stood Wilson, never
more fitly in his place than here; for of the many who have interposed
to shield the memory of Burns from detraction, he had spoken with the
most generous spirit and collected purpose, and came now to rejoice in
the common triumph. There, too, were Alison, the sound and strong
historian; Chambers, whose delicate generosity to the relatives of
Burns, independently of the services he has rendered to our national
literature, made him one of the fittest spectators of the scene; and a
host of other distinguished men, well and aptly representing the
aristocracy and the learning of the country. Many strangers, too, had
come to grace the festival; amongst whom, it may be allowed us to
specify the names of Mrs S. C. Hall, the charming authoress, and her
accomplished husband. We looked in vain for some whose presence there
would have given an additional interest to the scene. We would fain have
seen the poets of the sister countries represented by Wordsworth and
Moore. That might not be; but their sympathies were not withheld.

Among that brilliant group, there stood an elderly female, dressed in
deep black, and three men, all past the meridian of life, with quiet,
thoughtful looks, and unpretending aspect. These were the sister and the
sons of Burns. His sister!--and half a century has wellnigh gone past
since the hot heart of the brother was stricken cold, and the manly
music of his voice made dumb for ever! Was it too much to believe that,
through these many long years of her earthly pilgrimage--sometimes, we
fear, darkened by want and neglect--that sister had always clung to the
memory of the departed dead, in the hope that the day would arrive when
his genius should receive the homage of a new generation, to atone for
the apathy and coldness of that which had passed away? What emotions
must have thrilled the bosom of that venerable woman, as she gazed on
the stirring spectacle before her, and saw her lingering hopes far more
than thoroughly realized! What a glorious welcome, too, for the sons to
their native land! They had left it--not quite as the poor man
does--but with heavy difficulties before them. They had wrestled their
way onwards through