But, in
these early days at least, he was determined to shine by any
means. He made himself feared in the village for his tongue.
He would crush weaker men to their faces, or even perhaps -
for the statement of Sillar is not absolute - say cutting
things of his acquaintances behind their back. At the church
door, between sermons, he would parade his religious views
amid hisses. These details stamp the man. He had no genteel
timidities in the conduct of his life. He loved to force his
personality upon the world. He would please himself, and
shine. Had he lived in the Paris of 1830, and joined his lot
with the Romantics, we can conceive him writing JEHAN for
JEAN, swaggering in Gautier's red waistcoat, and horrifying
Bourgeois in a public cafe with paradox and gasconnade.
A leading trait throughout his whole career was his desire to
be in love. NE FAIT PAS CE TOUR QUI VEUT. His affections
were often enough touched, but perhaps never engaged. He was
all his life on a voyage of discovery, but it does not appear
conclusively that he ever touched the happy isle. A man
brings to love a deal of ready-made sentiment, and even from
childhood obscurely prognosticates the symptoms of this vital
malady. Burns was formed for love; he had passion,
tenderness, and a singular bent in the direction; he could
foresee, with the intuition of an artist, what love ought to
be; and he could not conceive a worthy life without it.
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