half the journey of life, and now, on their return,
they were greeted with a welcome which it were almost worth the
struggles of a life to obtain. All this they owed to their father; and
honoured among the honourable that day were the lineage and kindred of
Burns.

Beneath and around the Platform there were thousands already
congregated. If any one had wished to paint the character of the
Scottish peasantry in its loftiest and most endearing light, the
subjects were there before him. Old patriarchal men, on whose venerable
temples time had bleached the white locks of age to the softness of
those of infancy, stood leaning upon their grandchildren, proud, and yet
wondering at the honours which were that day paid to him, whom, long,
long ago, reaching away through the vista of memory, they remembered to
have seen in their youth. So familiarized were they with his image, and
the glorious language he had uttered, that they had almost forgotten the
greatness and universality of his fame; and now, when brought forth from
their cottages in the far glens and muirlands of the south, they could
scarcely believe that the great, and gifted, and beautiful of the land,
had come together for no other purpose than to celebrate the genius of
their old companion. But they were proud, as they well might be; for it
was a privilege even to have beheld him, and in that homage they
recognised and felt the tribute that was paid to their order. The
instinctive decency of Scottish feeling had accorded to these men a
fitting and conspicuous place. Around them were the women of their
families of all ages--from the matron in her coif to the bashful maiden
with the snood--and even children; for few were left at home on that day
of general jubilee. These, and a vast concourse of strangers, already
occupied the ground.

Meanwhile the Procession had wound its enormous length from Ayr along a
road almost choked up with spectators. Every wall and gate had its
burden, and numerous Flibbertigibbets sat perched upon the branches of
the trees. The solitary constable of the burgh was not present to
preserve order, or, if he was, his apparition was totally unrequired.
The old bell of Alloway Kirk was set in motion as the head of the column
appeared, and continued ringing until all were past. The whole land was
alive. Each road and lane poured forth its separate concourse to swell
the ranks of the great Procession. The weather, after one heavy final
shower, c