We must be at
peace with our species, if not for their sakes, at least very much
for our own." (12)
No one knew the value of self-control better than the poet Burns,
and no one could teach it more eloquently to others; but when it
came to practice, Burns was as weak as the weakest. He could not
deny himself the pleasure of uttering a harsh and clever sarcasm
at another's expense. One of his biographers observes of him,
that it was no extravagant arithmetic to say that for every ten
jokes he made himself a hundred enemies. But this was not all.
Poor Burns exercised no control over his appetites, but freely
gave them rein:
"Thus thoughtless follies laid him low
And stained his name."
Nor had he the self-denial to resist giving publicity to
compositions originally intended for the delight of the tap-room,
but which continue secretly to sow pollution broadcast in the
minds of youth. Indeed, notwithstanding the many exquisite poems
of this writer, it is not saying too much to aver that his immoral
writings have done far more harm than his purer writings have done
good; and that it would be better that all his writings should be
destroyed and forgotten provided his indecent songs could be
destroyed with them.
The remark applies alike to Beranger, who has been styled "The
Burns of France." Beranger was of the same bright incisive
genius; he had the same love of pleasure, the same love of
popularity; and while he flattered French vanity to the top of its
bent, he also painted the vices most loved by his countrymen with
the pen of a master.
Pages:
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239