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displeased, at this effort to improve their minds. At this Hugh Rodgers laughed contemptuously, and said he should be glad to know what these mighty nonsensical discussions might be about. Willie replied that they had a new subject every day; that he could not recollect all; but that the question of that day had been, Whether is a great general or a respectable merchant the more valuable member of society? At this Hugh Rodgers laughed more uproariously and provokingly than before, saying that it was a very silly question, since there could be no doubt for a moment about it. "Very well," said Robert Burns, now thoroughly roused, "if you think so, I will take any side you please, if you will allow me to discuss it with you."

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The unfortunate schoolmaster consented. menced the argument with a pompous flourish in favour of the general. Burns took the other side, and soon had the upper hand of the schoolmaster, who made a very lame reply. Soon the schoolmaster's hand was observed to shake, his voice to tremble; and, in a state of pitiable vexation, he dismissed the school.

Poor man he understood mathematics better than human nature; and himself least of all. This was an unfortunate victory, for two reasons: it was an unnecessary degradation of a man who had his estimable qualities; and it increased the self-sufficiency of young Burns.

Silver hairs were now gathering thickly over his good father's temples as he toiled on to little use. Robert had little inclination for his father's work; and yet somebody must take his place, for consumption was even then making rapid and fearful havoc with his constitution. The good old man ceased from his labours at last, and went where the weary rest. For a while Robert strove

to fill his place—strove well, strove earnestly. But the farmer who stops to write poems over his plough seldom reaps a harvest to satisfy hungry mouths. And so poverty came; and Robert Burns, although the troubled eyes of his wife looked into his, and his little children were growing up fast about him, and needed a good father to teach them how to live in this world, and to earn bread for them till they became big enough to earn it for themselves, drank whiskey to help him forget his cares.

His career was short, and ended sadly; but his poetry is full of purity and tenderness, freshness and humour ; and his songs are such as will keep him in memory as a poet by all nations and all times.

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FANNY FERN.

1canopy, an ornamented covering raised over a throne, pulpit, bed, and other things. 2 Robert, Robert Burns, the famous Scotch poet. disconsolate, sorrowful; sad. forego, do without. 5 supernatural, miraculous; wonderful. knotty, difficult to untie; difficult to understand.

A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT.

Is there, for honest poverty,

That hangs his head, and a' that?
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,

Our toil's obscure, and a' that;
The rank is but the guinea-stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What tho' on homely fare we dine,
Wearhoddin grey, and a' that!

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that.

For a' that, and a' that,

Their tinsel show, and a' that,

The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king of men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,

Wha struts, and stares, and a' that;
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a 'coof for a' that:
For a' that, and a' that,

His riband, star, and a' that,
The man of independent mind
He looks and laughs at a' that.

A king can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guid faith he mauna fa' that.
For a' that, and a' that,

Their dignities, and a' that,

The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may—
As come it will for a' that—

That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,
May 'bear the gree, and a' that.

For a' that, and a' that,

It's coming yet for a' that,

That man to man, the warld o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that.

BURNS.

1hoddin, cloth manufactured from wool in its natural state, and undyed. 2 birkie, a young fellow. 3 coof, blockhead. bear the gree, have the victory.

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"Some I do know who did not call or think themselves 'prophets'-far enough from that--but who were, in very truth, melodious voices from the eternal heart of nature once again; souls for ever venerable to all that have a soul."- CARLYLE.

POETRY is the language in which the heart pours out its tenderest feelings; it is the language of devotion, of joy, and of sorrow. The earnest soul struggling heavenward, yet oppressed with sin, held earthbound while it spreads its wings for flight, turns for comfort to the sweet psalmist of Israel, and finds help and life and spiritual strength as it drinks in the melody of the song. It is the language of joy. "O come let us sing unto the Lord," is the exclamation of the heart's 2 ecstatic delight; and while it ministers to gladness it is balm to sorrow :

"For the unquiet heart and brain

A use in measured language lies."

We cannot easily imagine a grief which should be quite insensible to its influence. Only a poet could tell of a sadness like that of the Hebrew captives, who hung their harps upon the willows, and silently wept by the waters of Babylon.

"Every great poet is a teacher. I wish either to be considered as a teacher or as nothing." So wrote William Wordsworth when the critics had almost persuaded the public to cast his poems aside unread. The position of a teacher is one of considerable dignity; but as it generally means that he is to convey to mankind a message which

the world at large knows nothing about, it is usually his fate to be misunderstood, and often to be abused by those whom he is anxious to teach. Such was the lot of Wordsworth.

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On April 7th, 1770, William Wordsworth first saw the light of day. It was in the town of Cockermouth, in Cumberland, where his father, an attorney, held the appointment of law agent to the Earl of Lonsdale. His mother died before he reached his eighth year; but her loving care during this brief time made an impression upon his young heart which, throughout his life, was never effaced.

In 1778 he was sent to Hawkshead Grammar School, in Lancashire, where he remained, receiving the education which books afford, until he was fourteen years of age. But books did not contain all the lore he yearned for. Outside his school and beyond the town he loved to roam in solitude. Nature was his companion and teacher. From earliest infancy he had felt the soothing influence of nature's calm. In his autobiographical poem, the Prelude, he tells us that, when a babe in arms, the gentle murmuring of the Derwent was

"Ceaseless music that composed my thoughts

To more than infant softness."

And as he grew he felt more and more the fascinating influence of hills and trees and babbling brooks. They were his familiar friends, and when he wandered astray would seem to reproach him with the fault. The solemn silence of the mountain-tops filled him with awe and

reverence.

In the half-holidays of his school-days it was his chief delight to join a party of his friends, and

"Sweep along the plain of Windermere

With rival oars,"

VI.-Moffatt's Ex. Reader.

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