BURNS A SATIRIST.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2419, 6 February 1909, Page 12 (Supplement)

BURNS A SATIRIST.

Burns did for Scotland what Lafontaino in a more conspicuous, though really narrower, sphere did for- France in the seventeenth century. He drew up closer to the objects of his attack, than even Voltaire or Swift. What he ridiculed was not, generally, the perversity or the stupidity of a nation, hut some immediate departure from natural and humane conduct, something at Tarbolton or Mauclilino which touched him ‘unpleasantly. Hence his passion. True, he professed ia. rationalistic philosophy, derived from the dominant French writers of the' iago and the British deists; 'but in largo measure his views of life originated in his own exporenoo,- and of course they were vitalised with .personal feeling and winged with local phrases. Thus ho gave a humorous rather than a hitter turn to his satire. He knew its objects, in most cases, as “brither sinners” and fellow Ayrshiromen. The ‘undeniable virtues of most of them were present in his mind, along with their odious orthodoxy. His own shortcomings, too. made it impossible for him—-Bob the Banter —to set up as u. quite serious judge of morals. Houeo liis good nature. And on tho whole, then, it was instinct, not theory—personal grievance,' not party prejudice—that brought him to a glow.

SAYINGS OF MRS. SOLOMON. being the -confessions of the seven hundreth WIFE. (Translated 'by Helen Rowland.) AVouldst thou bo a Bachelor Girl, mv Daughter? For tins is tlie Great Feminine Bluff; and no so such Hung cxistetli, except in the magazines and tll Lo, m » l ßachelor Girl may bo a sweet young tiling who assumeth a becoming pose, or she may bo an old maid who maleeth the best of an unbecoming situation; hut -a Coiifiimod La ohclor Girl is one who hath not maifi<For the single -life is a perfectly lovely thing—in story hooks, a exit is made up of rarebit suppers and High Art and the admiration ol toe multitude; but in real life it is a back hall bedroom with -a Gas stove for company and a twenty-five cent table d’hote for excitement. A r erilv I say unto thee, no woman liveth who would not exchange' a typewriter for a cradle, and a- aesk for a sowing machine, and an easel for a cook stove, and an armful o. diplomas for an armful of babies—and a latch key for a nice broad pair of shoulders —if the Right mart offered them unto her. Y r ea, observe how easily a lady college professor droppet'h her Hebrew and her Greek and learneth to tali baby talk. , , And mark bow willingly a lad. doctor stoppeth 'foiling piks for the pleasure of rolling a- oaby cainage. For Ai*t is a -beautiful thing, but •■it is So intangible. \ T erilv, thou cansi not -put thine arms about its neck , neither c&uist thou tie it up in pink ribbons. Nay, thou eanst not run thy fingers through its hair nor call it funny nicknames, nor cry upon its coat lapel. Neither eanst thou worry about it, nor wait upon it, nor “fuss’ over it. Verily, verily a woman must ■have Something to Coddle —and a man is -better than a teddy bear. Selah!