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she had time to speak, but I am not poetic enough to separate a Man's Poetry entirely from his Character;—& poor Burns's known Irregularities, greatly interrupt my enjoyment of his Lines.—I have difficulty, in depending on the Truth of his Feelings as a Lover. I have not faith in the sincerity of the affections of a Man of his Description. He felt & he wrote & he forgot." "Oh! no no—exclaimed Sir Edw: in an extasy. He was all ardour & Truth!—His Genius & his Susceptibilities might lead him into some Aberrations—But who is perfect?—It were Hyper-criticism, it were Pseudo-philosophy to expect from the soul of high toned Genius, the grovellings of a common mind.—The Coruscations of Talent, elicited by impassioned feeling in the breast of Man, are perhaps incompatible
with some of the prosaic
