"I was a Spirit in the midst of these, All eye, ear, thought; existence was enjoyment; Light was an element of life, and air The clothing of my incorporeal form,-- A form impalpable to mortal touch, And volatile as fragrance from the flower, Or music in the woodlands. What the soul Can make itself at pleasure, that I was A child in feeling and imagination; Learning new lessons still, as Nature wrought Her wonders in my presence. All I saw, Like Adam, when he walked in Paradise, I knew and named by surest intuition. Actor, spectator, sufferer, each in turn, I ranged, explored, reflected. Now I sailed, And now I soared; anon, expanding, seemed Diffused into immensity, yet bound Within a space too narrow for desire. The mind, the mind, perpetual themes must task, Perpetual power impel, and hope allure. I and the silent sun were here alone, But not companions: high and bright he held His course: I gazed with admiration on him-- There all communion ended; and I sighed To feel myself a wanderer without aim, An exile amid splendid desolation, A prisoner with infinitude surrounded." James Montgomery was born November 4th, 1771, in the little town of Irvine, in Ayrshire; a place which has also had the honor of giving birth to John Galt, and of being for about six months the abode of Robert Burns, when a youth, who was sent there to learn the art and mystery of flax-dressing, but his master's shop being burned, he quitted Irvine and that profession at the same time. The house in which Burns resided does not seem to be now very positively known, but it was in the Glasgow Vennel. The house where Montgomery was born is well known. It is in Halfway-street, and was pointed out to me by the zealous admirer and chronicler of all that belongs to genius, Mr. Maxwell Dick, of Irvine, in whose possession are some of the most interesting of the autograph copies of Burns's Poems, especially the Cotter's Saturday Night.