Puslapio vaizdai

itching? Nothing will satisfy them unless they can press gaged in, if they had not had hopes of liberty of contheir finger upon their brethren's consciences, to pinch science better than Episcopacy granted them, or than them there. To do this was no part of the contest we would have been afforded by a Scots Presbytery, or an had with the common adversary. And wherein consisted English either. This, I say, is a fundamental. It ought this more than in obtaining that liberty from the tyranny to be so. It is for us and the generations to come.' of the bishops to all species of Protestants to worship God

Why did Cromwell, when he stood forth as the chamaccording to their own light and consciences ?

pion of religious liberty, maintain the principle of a spe

cial Church established by the State? It has been sup««• What greater hypocrisy than for those who were posed that he was guided by political considerations, oppressed by the bishops to become the greatest oppres, being unwilling to strip the public authority of every sort sors themselves, so soon as their yoke was removed? of direction in religious matters, which exert so great an could wish that they who call for liberty now also had influence over the people. In the speech we have just not too much of that spirit, if tho power were in their quoted, he assigns another reason:- The supreme mahands !— As for profane persons, blasphemers, such as gistrate should exercise his conscience in erecting what preach sedition ; the contentious railers, evil-speakers, form of church government he is satisfied should be set who seek by evil words to corrupt good manners, persons

up.'" of loose conversation-punishment from the civil magistrate ought to meet with these.''

Modern statesmen, while emulating Cromwell's Highly as our author lauds Cromwell, or the zeal, must not lose sight of his“ prudent firmness” spirit of an age, fostered, if not formed, by the in checking hostile sects. The power which Cromgenius of the Protector, some blemishes are dis well claimed for the chief magistrate, of erecting covered in this great Christian hero, and some whatever form of religion his conscience dictated, in the new system of government. One was, that stretches far enough ; but, while asserting this “ religion was too closely allied with politics ;"power, he was too wise to attempt setting up his and on this head Dr. Merle D'Aubigné makes one own sect, though, from political as well as perof the most instructive discourses to be found in sonal causes, it enjoyed much of his favour and his whole volume. But as his opinions on Church patronage. Dr Merle D'Aubigné, however, thinks establishments, or the alliance of Church and that, though the Protector “ went very far in reState, are very well known in this country, the ligious liberty, it was still not far enough.”... topic may be passed. The example of Cromwell “ Had he left all sects free, without protection as is often pointed out to the present rulers of Eng-without restraint—had Evangelical Episcopacy, land, but they may probably, and not altogether in particular, been able to move freely-religion unjustly either, draw very different conclusions would have escaped that narrow mannerism, that out of the same facts from some of those to which cant with which it has been reproached sometimes, Dr. Merle D’Aubigné has come. Men often in

perhaps with reason, by men of the world.” This terpret history, as they do scripture, very much to seems true liberality, though it must be kept in square with their preconceived notions, interests, mind that all sects holding what are termed evanwishes, or favourite line of policy. What, in the gelical doctrines are only here meant, at least if middle of the nineteenth century, Cromwell would the above sentiment is to be reconciled with other have done with the Roman Catholics of Ireland,

parts of the book which we have already cited. with the great bulk of the Irish nation in other

Though the whole of this work may rather be words, can only be surmised from the manner in described as a panegyric than a Life or “ Vindicawhich he acted in his own time; and this certainly tion" of the Protector, some of his errors, as we does not lead to the conclusion that he would have have seen, are hinted at, or pointed out, though adopted the counsel and guidance of the bigoted many more are palliated. One leading fault is, Anti-Catholic party. Dr. Merle D’Aubigné says however, repeatedly dwelt upon for reproof and in one place :

warning: From fanatical enthusiasm - from “ The prudent firmness with which Oliver combated spiritual pride, or an over-weening self-suffithese extremes of religious parties, at a time when they were so potent, and when the truc principles of liberty ciency-Cromwell, and many good men of his wero not generally acknowledged, deserves our highest time, claimed, in following frames and moods, to admiration. Even his adversaries have confessed it. Mr. be acting under the immediate inspiration and Southey, although a zealous Episcopalian, and an enemy guidance of the Spirit of God; thus rejecting, or, to the commonwealth, and who regarded the disastrous at least, neglecting the “ more sure word of prorestoration of Charles II. as the salvation of England, says in his Book of the Church - Cromwell relieved the phecy." This delusive arrogancy Dr. Merle country from Presbyterian intolerance; and he curbed D’Aubigné never fails earnestly to rebuke. One those fanatics who were for proclaiming King Jesus, that, illustration of this species of delusion may serve as his Saints, they might divide the land amongst them for all. Before the parliamentary military leaders selves. But it required all his strength to do this, and had openly, or in deeds, declared the purpose to keep down the spirit of religious and political fanaticism.'

upon which they were pretty well resolved be"Perhaps his zeal was the more remarkable, as it did forehand, namely, of “calling Charles Stuart, that not reach the point to which many of his friends had ar- man of blood, to sharp account for the blood he rived—the separation, namely, of Church and State. In had shed, and the mischief he had done,” they his third speech, even when professing the doctrine of an established State religion, he boldly claims liberty of con- assembled in conclave, and for three days were science for all. Ho says, “Every sect saith, o'gire me exercised in prayer in Windsor Castle ; and here liberty! But give it him, and to his power-he will not our author inquires “who can entertain any yield it to any body else!.... Where is our ingenuo

doubt of their uprightness, of their true piety, ness? Liberty of conscience is a thing that ought to be and lively faith ?" There may be room for grave very reciprocal. I may say it to you, I can say it: All the money of this nation would not have tempted men to doubts ; but no one can question that the crisis fight upon such an account as they have here been en- was come, and that it was full time to be resolved and up and doing. As in nearly every simi- | like every reasonable man who understands and lar case, recorded in profane history, the answer loves civil liberty, he fully recognizes the necesto these solemn prayers was exactly such as might sity of the Revolution, independently of the special have been foretold; and, notwithstanding his ad- reasons for which he chiefly values it, namely, miration of the fervent piety of the chiefs who the destruction or extirpation of Popery in the thus combined secret political deliberation with British Islands — of that anti-christian faith, public diets of prayer, our author is constrained which he maintains that Charles I., like all the to inquire


Stuarts, systematically strove to establish, " And yet, were they really in the right path? We This “error in religion”—the fatal and preentertain some doubt on this point. There is perhaps no sumptuous error of obeying the passionate imcase in which we see more clearly the importance of being pulses of his own secret desires, under the warrant enlightened on the true principles of christian conduct. When the leaders of the army wished to know what they of an imaginary direct answer to prayer, instead ought to do, they examined into what they had done when of soberly searching out the will of God as declared they felt happiest and nearest to God : such are not the in the Scriptures-our author considers “the means prescribed by Heaven. They should have asked only important blemish to be found in Cromwell." themselves, • What does God command us in His At the same time,” he adds, “it is the key which Word?” It is not by our feelings that He will guide us,

His piety but by his commandments. Our feelings may lead us opens and explains his whole life. astray. There is a way which seemeth right unto a was sincere, but it was not always sober.” And man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. The yet, how does the Doctor account for Cromwell's Word of God never misleads us.' A Christian's walk is uniform sobriety of mind, and calm, consummate in the divine commandments : to act according to one's wisdom in the field, the cabinet, and in the early own sensations, one's interior illumination, is the walk of the mystic. If the officers assembled at Windsor did not councils of the rebel leaders ?

The key does not then fall into fanaticism, they were at least in a path which fit every ward of the lock. Dr. Merle D'Aubigné might lead to it ; and some of them fell into it afterwards.” condemns the death of the Royal martyr (as

Under similar impulses of a mind already made Charles I. is still fancifully called), but yet palup, Oliver, after some natural relenting and great liates the deed, while, what many will regard as apparent spiritual conflict, signed the death- worse acts in his hero appear to him to require warrant of Charles I.

no laboured vindication, or rather to merit praise. The temper in which a man, or body of men, Of the fearful campaign in Ireland, he adopts commences such devotional exercises, as those de- Mr. Carlyle's view, without basing that view upon scribed below, ever argues

a foregone conclu- the same large, if untenable, premises. sion.” Such men seek not guidance that squares Of the death of Charles, it is saidnot with their own views. What a sad picture of “The death of the king must for ever bear in history a gross self-delusion, if not worse hypocrisy, it pre- mark of reprobation:

We condemn it in the most exsents!

plicit manner. But if the ideas of Milton and of so many

Englishmen in the seventeenth century are erroneous, “It was this which guided him in the sentence passed on their error is akin to that of Melancthon, Farel, and CalCharles, and freed him from all his doubts and scruples. vin, and of the churches of Berne, Zurich, Schaffhausen, John Cromwell, at that time in the Dutch service, had and Basle, in the case of Servetus. We shrink with as come to England with a message from the Prince of much horror from the death of the heretic as from that Wales and of Orange to endeavour to save the king's life. of the despot. We abhor these executions, as we abhor When introduced to his cousin Oliver, he reminded him the piles of John Huss, of Savonarola, and of the thousands of the royalist opinions he had formerly entertained at

of victims whom Rome has immolated. And yet we Uampton Court. The latter, still uncertain as to the should take the peculiarities of the times into considerline of conduct which he ought to pursue, replied, that ho ation.” had often fasted and prayed to know the will of God with respect to the king, but that God had not yet pointed out

It is surely going far enough for a lover of the way. When John had withdrawn, Cromwell and his religious freedom to place the heretic and the friends again sought by prayer the path they ought to fol- despot in the same category; as if their errors low; and it was then the parliamentary hero first felt the

or guilt were at all equal either in degree or kind, conviction that Charles's death alone could save England. From that moment all was fixed : God had spoken ; Oli

as if an individual entertaining some speculative Fer's indecision was at an end; it remained now merely to opinion or dogma of belief, which his fellow-Chrisact and accomplish that will, however appalling it might tians condemn or disapprove, were as dangerous to be. At one o'clock in the morning, a messenger from the society as the acts of the chief magistrate who, by General knocked at the door of the tavern where John secret intrigue and open force, seeks to subvert the Cromwell lodged, and informed him that his cousin had at length dismissed his doubts, and that all the arguments so

constitution, and destroy the rights and liberties long put forward by the most decided republicans were now which he is appointed to guard. Those who adconfirmed by the will of the Lord. Enthusiasm, then, mit that the death of Servetus was a crime in any was the cause of Cromwell's error. This is a fault in reli

--and some hardy spirits, we believe, even gion; but may it not extenuate the fault in morals?''

in our enlightened time, do not scruple to justify Dr. Merle D’Aubigné here advances some rather what Dr. Merle D'Aubigné “ shrinks from with questionable opinions ; for what enormity has not horror”—must confess that the unhappy heretic been committed while the perpetrator has most who used no weapons but his pen and his tongue, sincerely believed that, instead of obeying his was much less criminal than the despot, who, own evil and blinding passions, he was obeying according to our author, sought at once to crush the will, and promoting the glory of God ? He, the liberties of England, and to introduce popery however, acknowledges that, in this instance, the who had “ with one hand torn the timeLord spoke not by Cromwell, and that the execu- honoured charters of the nation, while he stretched tion of the King was an unnecessary step; though, the other towards the despotic pope of Rome."


We shall not enter into the defence of the leaned to the Puritans, who had the English illegal and arbitrary acts—the usurpation, or the army with them, than to the Presbyterians, alleged ambition of Cromwell. The Protector's who were bound by their covenant to “ extirpate own pithy explanation is, we conceive, enough ; Episcopacy,” while the Puritans i. e. Independ" while Parliament deliberated, the nation would ents, believed, that if the Presbyterians got the have had its throat cut.” He stepped in, though upper hand “they would tyrannize over conunlawfully, and saved England from so fatal a science as much as the bishops themselves had catastrophe ; and this is his brief yet ample vin- done.” And our author does not consider this dication.

alarm groundless, when he roundly asserts. A few sentences from the summary of the Pro- ". In fact the presbyterians, whenever they offered to tector's character, which follows a long account treat with the king, always proposed that steps should be of his deathbed, will serve to show what the taken to suppress the Independent opinions, as well as

those of other sectaries.'' author's opinions are, and whether the reader may concur in them all or not.

In the famous manifesto of the Parliamentary “It is seldom that a great man is a Christian ; but Army, a principal point insisted upon was “reCromwell was both. The result has been, that men of ligious liberty.” the world have scouted him as a hypocrite.

• The independents consented that the presbyterian re

ligion should be the religion of the nation, thus granting “What most distinguishes Cromwell above all great to the latter body a superiority over their own party ; men, and especially above all statesmen, is the predomi- but they claimed for all Christians the full enjoyment of nance in him—10t only in his person, but also in his civil and religious rights. This, says Lord Clarendon, government of the evangelical and christian element. was their great charter, and they were determined not to He thought that the political and national greatness of lay down their arms until they had obtained it. The indeBritain could not be established in a firm manner, unless pendents had shed their blood for parliament in maintainthe pure Gospel was communicated to the people, and un- | ing the liberties of England, and they thought it strange less a truly christian life flowed through the veins of the they should be allowed no other liberty than that of expatrianation.

tion. The presbyterians in the English Revolution repre

sented, generally, order, moderation, and respect for the “Although in the bosom of Protestant nations eran- Constitution; but the independents, it must be acknowgelical Christianity is far from having reached the perfec- ledged, knew much better than they the great principles of tion it ought to possess: it is suficient to compare these religious liberty. If we call to mind the manner in which nations with others, in order to perceive that such is, in presbyterianism afterwards vanished from England, leavgeneral, the effect of those principles of which Oliver was ing behind it only a small number of Unitarian congregaone of the most eminent advocates. In Great Britain tions, we cannot help thinking that some bad principle and Spain we have a signal illustration of this truth. must have crept into this party. Scotland is the true

“If Cromwell salutes the English nation, as “a very country for this system of church constitution, which has great peoplethe best people in the world' -- it is be- never been able to maintain its footing on the south of the cause they are a people that have the highest and clear- Tweed. est profession among them of the greatest glory, namely This ill adaptation of the south to the PresReligion.'. If some who desire to have horse-races, byterian form—which is elsewhere termed an cock-fightings, and the like,' say, “They in France are "exotic” in England—appears a remarkable fact, so and so!' Oliver replies : llave they the Gospel as we have? They hare seen the sun but a little. We have though it must not hold true at all times, as in a great lights !...... He declares what has been the princi-corrective foot-note we are informed that “a young pal means employed by him to effect the good of the British Presbyterian Church in England, professing the nationi : I have been seeking of God-from the great principles of the Free Church,” is taking root in God—a blessing upon you (the parliament), and upon the ungenial southern soil, and is already, in nuthese nations.' In his closet alone, and on his knees, he wrestled with God to promote the good of his people. merouscongregations, “ bringing forth fair fruits.” One cause was with him superior to all the political in- We had always understood that the various terests of his people—the cause of Christ !''

bodies of Scottish Presbyterian Dissenters, now For some occult reason of climate, latitude, or known as the United Secession Church of Scotlocal boundary, Dr. Merle D’Aubigué, singularly land, had many vigorous and thriving off-sets in enough, considers Presbyterianism quite unsuited the south long before the Free Church came into to England, and imagines that what had once existence. But this is an error into which a very nearly been the established religion of that foreign writer may easily fall, and along with country can never again take root, or thrive on the others it may be corrected in that narrative of his south side of the Tweed. Nor does he seem, in travels in Britain which Dr. Merle D’Aubigné the abstract, greatly to admire the Presbyterian announces, and which will probably be a work form, though, from particular circumstances, he of greater temporary interest than the present is at present more disposed to fraternize with the hasty volume, from the freshness of its facts and Free Church, which holds by the principle of the imposing array of contemporary proper Establishment, than with the Scottish Voluntaries, names. We have seen the original manuscript who approach more closely to his own opinions of part of this work, and found it highly intereston Church government, and of the many evils ne- ing, though, like the present, in which D’Aubigné cessarily attending the alliance of Church and draws evidently from Neale's “ History of the State. He certainly pays no compliments to Puritans,” not always a fair historical work; it our Covenanting ancestors, at the expense of is sometimes inaccurate in matters of detail. historical truth. Charles I. had flattered himself No one at all conversant with the history of that the quarrels of his enemies, the Puritans Cromwell and his Times can consider the present and Presbyterians, would lead them to extirpate work either as an original, philosophic, and imeach other, but this hope failing, he rather partial treatise, or a searching and well-digested

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historical and biographical narrative; and it might and at the same time candid among them, must with far greater propriety and effect, we should possess better means or opportunities of comprethink, have appeared in France or Geneva than hending the exact degree of danger to be apprein this country. Yet it is adapted to a large hended from the spread or ascendancy of Popery class of readers among us who consider Dr. Merle in Britain than the Genevese Divine, we would D'Aubigné a high authority, and who might hope that profiting by the lessons of freedom of never have been induced to look into a better religious opinion given by Cromwell, and exerbook upon the same subject, if wanting the stamp cising their own understandings, they will surof a popular religious name. What we have mount all idle terrors of either the Pope or Mr. ventured to deprecate as its great leading fault

Newman, If the soil and air of England canits attempt farther to arouse the already active not foster, as Dr. Merle D'Aubigné thinks, Presand embittered spirit of religious animosity in byterianism, much less are they favourable to these islands—some of its readers will consider Romanism. its chief merit. But as all who are intelligent,



I LISTEN to my heart at times

Until I hear it beat;
And then methinks it rings and rhymes

In symphony complete :
A music, born of pulse and vein,

And fever in the blood.
How awful is this human strain!

How little understood!
If art could teach the Man of Art

To tell, by such vague sounds,
The thoughts that rush from brain to heart,

As through wild woods mad hounds-
I would not let one loved one's ear

Press fondly on my breast,
Lest that which fills my soul with fear

Should thence be heard or guess'd.
The tongue may tell its tale of truth

To loveful, pitying ears,
And Age confess its sins of youth,

With eyes that weep no tears;
But each, and all of us, have that

Within us we would hide
From even the tenderest friend e'er sat

In kindness at our side.
The birds within the forest sing

Till Echoes-all around-
Repeat such melodies as bring

A balm on each glad sound:
The leaves that fall, in falling breathe

Out music and the breeze
Wakes cadences that sweetly wreathe

Song-garlands o'er the trees :

The sea sends music to the shore,

And Echo gathers all
Those different harmonies, till o'er

The world in song they fall;
But human hearts, whose throbs are rife

With joy, and grief, and pain-
What are their echoes? Mortal life

Shall hear them--but in vain!
Enough to know, our hearts lock up

Such thoughts as-were they told-
Might bitter make Love's sweetest oup

And mar its brightest gold!
We seek for sympathy 'mongst men,

But, when we find it, know
It soothes us for our lesser ills,

Not for our greater woc.
That greater woe within us dwells,

known but to God and us,
We dare not ope the secret cells

Where we enclose it thus:-
And so I listen to my heart,

At times when all is still,
And think it well Art hath no art

To syllable cach thrill.
And thus I pine for sympathy,

And tell my lesser woes ;
Still meeting kind and patient friends

To pity me for those :
For just as music on the wind,

Or murmur on the flood,
Echoes there are amidst mankind

As well as in the wood!

A MONUMENTAL FIGURE IN A CHURCH. Ever kneeling, ever praying,

He that can and will relieve us, 'Neath thy canopy of stone

He will lift thee up at last.
Ever mouldering, ever graying,

Nay, rise now, undo that clasping,
Ages thou hast dwelt alone.

Brood not ever o'er thy fate;
Stony Image! Knight or Lady-

Shut the book that thou art grasping,
For I know not what thou wast-

Sit thee down and meditate.
Time hangs o'er with wing so shady,

Ah! how chilly are thy fingers,
That thy very sex is lost.

Pious Image, turned to stone-
Shield and scutcheon in their places

Not a heart-beat in thee lingers,
Might be carved around thy tomb,

Every sign of life is flown.
But of these there are no traces,

Flown! I wander--life and vigour
Here there rests an equal gloom,

Never had thy rigid frame,
Crest or trophy might have granted

Thou art but a stony figure,
Tidings that I fain would know;

Feebly actiug Knight or Dame.
Name and fame alike are wanted,

Then, farewell! 'tis quickly spoken,
And unanswered I must go.

Yet I fear this awful mien
Clifford, Nevile, Fane, or Percy,

Will avenge thy quiet broken,
Whatsoe'er thy rank or line,

Looking through the years unseen; Needing, like the humblest, mercy,

Coming on thy knees to haunt me,
Like the weakest, help divine,

As thou prayest, all alone,
Were thy sins so great and grievous,

Coming silently to daunt me
Thou should'st pray through all the past?

With thy fixed mysterious frown.

J. Y. J.


Tue late Mr. Robert Mackenzie Daniel, author of the viands for the intellectual palate, he resembled the hard“ Young Widow," the “Scottish Heiress,” and other working labourer, who, returning from his day’s labopopular works of fiction, was best known to general rious toil, devours his evening's meal without questioning readers, through his soubriquet of the “Scottish Boz." its quality, On quitting Aberdeen, he removed to EdinWe think it was the Literary Gazette which first desig- burgh, from the desire of his friends that he should now nated Mr. Daniel by that title; and from its aptness, as direct his studies with a view to the bar, which was also indicating the peculiar quality of his talents, it was at his own inclination at this period. In prosecution of once adopted aud received as just, by the general reading this object, he entered the office of a writer to the Signet, public. Not that his style was in anything akin to that at the same time attending the law classes of the Univerof the distinguished author of “ Pickwick," for never, sity. His legal studies were pursued with unremitting perhaps, in that respect alone, did two authors differ more vigour, although he by no means neglected the cultivation widely than the “Scottish Boz,” and the original “ Boz,” of his mind in other respects. For the space of several but rather that the name being already in the market, as sessions he was a constant attendant upon the prelections the head of a class of literature, original in the real sense of Professor Wilson, and had a strong taste for a literary of the term, and distinctive for the deep and varied ac- life deeply engendered in his mind by the illustrious exquaintance with human life which it displayed, it appeared ample he saw before him. After a residence of four to the mind of the critic, the most aptly descriptive of an years at Edinburgh, Mr. Daniel began to abandon the author, who, without possessing attributes of genius at idea of following the profession of an advocate. Although all comparable to Dickens, yet owned, in common with he had hitherto devoted himself to the study of Scottish his great prototype, the quality of treating the subjects jurisprudence with zeal, his more matured thoughts, as which he chose as the groundworks of his novels, in a already hinted, at length began to manifest a decided manner truly original, and totally devoid of the violations tendency to a litcrary occupation. Perhaps the resoluof truth and nature, so characteristic of fashionable works tion of abandoning the bar was confirmed by other of fiction. Mr. Daniel finished his career but a short circumstances of even a more pressing nature than time ago, and a posthumous production from his pen, en- strong inclination towards a different mode of life. titled the “ CARDINAL'S DAUGITER,” has just made its The tardiness of success at the Scottish bar to any appearance. Sir Egerton Bridgea remarks, that in per- bnt those of powerful connexion amongst writers or soliusing any literary work, the reader is always anxious to citors is proverbial. You are sure to meet with some know something of its author-how he thought, how he degree of success if you wait long enough for it, and this spoke, and what were his habits; and if such curiosity is probationary process of waiting must be gone through excited in the case of books in general, how much more according to the strictest letter of what the Scotch call so in the case of one whoso author has ceased to exist be- “ gentility." It was precisely the inability to find the fore his hand was allowed to give the last polish to its mcans to support this “ gentility' which Mr. Daniel was pages, and whose final moments—his brain now torn and in want of. He looked before him, and beheld in the dismembered by tho stern necessities of his position, a vista of professional struggle long years of obscurity and wife and children looking for that support, which his ex- neglect. He bethought him that he might meet with sucertions were inadequate to supply, was enshrouded amid cess as a literateur in London, and, accordingly, we find the clouds of dark insanity!

him there in the latter part of 1836. His fate at first as Robert Mackenzie Daniel was born in Inverness-shire a literary man in the great metropolis, was similar to that in the year 1814. His father was a small landed of most men at their outset—he wrote for periodicals by proprietor or laird, within a short distance of the county the dozen, but his communications were very often retown, and Robert was the youngest child of a rather jected. After a season of trial and vexation, he was for numerous family. His school education having been a brief period engaged in connexion with the “Courier,” completed at Inverness, young Daniel was sent at the a deceased evening paper. This situation he subsequently age of fifteen to Marischal College, Aberdeen. Ilere exchanged for the editorship of the “Court Journal,” on he remained for the space of three years diligently pur- the establishment of that weekly, which he conducted for suing his studies, and though he was by no means what the space of two years. Of Mr. Daniel's ephemeral prois generally styled an “ arduous student,” still the basis ductions, poetical and prose, we can take no account, of general knowledzo which he acquired was scarcely in- scattered as they are over numerous London magazines, ferior, nay, perhaps, superior, to that which the utmost to which he in time found admission. His maiden novel ardour in most other youths could have supplied. After was the “Scottish Heiress," which was produced in 1842. years built a superstruction of inforınation upon this The marked success which attended this, his first conbasis surpassed but seldom. Even in boyhood there were siderable attempt, encouraged its author to another effort few subjects of an intellectual nature in which he was not in the following year, and accordingly the “Gravetolerably conversant; and a strong inclination to a desultory digger”' appeared in 1843. His second production, howmode of study continued with him through life. Unlike ever, was scarcely received with the same amount of most men who have their peculiar “hobby," instead of popular applause as his first, and it was always regarded regarding merely one subject as worthy of particular at- by its author as a failure. In 1844, Mr. Daniel having tention, he ever looked with appetite of keenest edge" recently married, removed from London to Jersey, hoping upon everything alike. No epicure in the choice of that, amid the Elysian beauties of that ancient islet, he

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