THE ANNIVERSARY OF BURNS

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 109, 25 January 1918, Page 6

THE ANNIVERSARY OF BURNS

The war and its many interests su.round us like an atmosphere,

and many things that in time of peace commanded our attention arc to-day neglected. It is so with many social and literary functions, and life is the poorer for our enforced neglect. It would be a pity for us, howevor, to. ignore altogether the anniversaries of our great men. These can be remembered without public demonstrations and social functions. To-day is the anniversary of the birth of Scotland's great poet, Robert Burns. He was one of tho world's great men whose writings make the true wealth of the world. It is not known as it should be that a nephew of the 'poet's was the leader of the small, sturdy, Presbyterian band that founded the Otago province, but the story is told in another part of our issue by a Wellington Presbyterian minister. We have thus a kind of vested interest in New Zealand in Robert Burns and 'his connections. Burns was a.many-sided man, and s0 was his message. He sang and preached tho rights and glory of nationality, which is going to mean so much in the righteous settlement of this war. Ho restored in a measure the nationality of Scotland and led Scotchmen to glory in their land. But he had a wider message and appealed to a larger ' audience He had a message of world-wide sympathy; he affirms tho worth of man as man, and thus teaches tho fnct of a common, world-wide brotherhood. He ranks < among the great singers of tho world, and has been called tho Shakespeare of' lyrical poetry. His songs, as ono writer has finely said, "appeal to all ranks; they touch all ages, they cheer toil-worn men in every clime. Wherever men of British blood wopld give vent to their deepest, kindliest, and most genial feelings it is to tho songs of Burks they spontaneously turn, and find in them at once a perfect utterance and a fresh bond of brotherhood." On this anniversary day wo may use the words of an admiring brother poet: Praise to the hard—his songs are driven Like flower seeds on tho wild waves strewn, Whev'er beneath the skv of heaven The birds of fame aro flown.