(_d_) The poet’s _political and religious views_ have been given prominence by his admirers, but they scarcely deserve it. His politics, as expressed in such poems as _A Man’s a Man for a’ That_, are merely the natural utterances of a strong and sensitive mind deeply alive to the degradation of his native people. His religious views, in so far as they are colored by his unhappy personal experiences with the Scottish Church, are of value solely as the inspiration of capital satirical verse, but in _The Cotter’s Saturday Night_ Burns pays a spontaneous and beautiful tribute to the piety of the Scottish peasant. The following extract from _Holy Willie’s Prayer_ sufficiently reveals his personal bias: Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place, For here Thou hast a chosen race: But God confound their stubborn face, And blast their name, Wha bring Thy elders to disgrace, And public shame. Lord, mind Gaw’n Hamilton’s deserts, He drinks, and swears, and plays at cartes, Yet has sae mony takin’ arts, Wi’ great and sma’, Frae God’s ain priests the people’s hearts He steals awa’. But, Lord, remember me and mine, Wi’ mercies temp’ral and divine, That I for gear and grace may shine, Excelled by nane, And a’ the glory shall be Thine. Amen, amen! (_e_) His _style_ is noteworthy for the curious double tendency that is typical of the transition. When he writes in the “correct” manner he has all the petty vices of the early school. The opening lines of his _Address to Edinburgh_ are: Edina! Scotia’s darling seat! All hail thy palaces and tow’rs, Where once beneath a monarch’s feet Sat Legislation’s sov’ran pow’rs! Here we see a paltry classicism and a metrical scrupulousness (leadingto the mutilation of words like “pow’rs”) that were far below Burns’s notice. The latter vice will be seen even in such poems as _To Mary in Heaven_, quoted above. But when he shakes himself free from such trifling arts his style is full and strong, and as redolent of the soil as his own mountain daisy. (_f_) As the _national poet_ of Scotland his position is unique. He is first, and the rest nowhere. His rod, like Aaron’s, has swallowed up the rods of the other Scottish poets; so that in the popular fancy he is the author of any striking Scottish song, such as _Annie Laurie_ or _Auld Robin Gray_. His dominating position is due to three factors: (1) He has a matchless gift of catching traditional airs and wedding them to words of simple and searching beauty. It is almost impossible to think of _Auld Lang Syne_ or _Scots wha hae_ or _Green grow the Rashes, O!_ without their respective melodies being inevitably associated with them. And these tunes were born in the blood of the Scottish peasant.