No man has exerted a greater influence upon the literature of the age than Professor John Wilson. No man has ever arrived at such a brilliant literary height, and occupied such high and honourable positions, about whom, among the generality of readers in our country, so little is known. To Dr. Mackenzie are due many thanks for the very able manner in which he has edited the Noctes Ambrosianæ, and for the entertaining biographical sketch of the author, with which he has prefaced the work.

John Wilson was born in Paisley, in Scotland, on the 19th of May 1785, and ended his life on the 3rd of April 1854. It would be difficult to find a village that has produced more distinguished men. Here was born, in July 1776, Alexander Wilson, the greatest of European ornithologists. In this little town of weavers, was born on the 3rd of June 1774, that sweet and tender lyrical poet, Robert Tannahill. This place was the home, from early childhood, of William Motherwell, the author of "Jeanie Morrison," the most sentimental and pathetic lyric that was ever penned. At an early age,

WORDSWORTH.

Wilson was placed under the direction of Dr. McIntyre, a clergyman of character, who resided at Glenorchy, in the Highlands. We are informed that he was a man of extensive information, and was distinguished for his pure and ardent love of nature, as well as for his classical knowledge. By his manliness and virtue, his energy and activity, his diligence and perseverance, Wilson won the confidence and esteem of his worthy preceptor. It was, perhaps, at this very school, amid the beautiful and romantic Highlands of Scotland, that he received. those "first impressions," which in after life contributed so much to his vast knowledge of nature. It was there his soul first expanded with joy, when he beheld the blue summits of distant mountains up-lifted against an evening sky,and learned to gaze with delight upon the golden splendours of the sinking sun. It was there he first wandered alone through the flowery glens and over the heather hills, and caught an inspiration from every object that met his youthful eyes. It was there he first sought the mossy bank of some beautiful loch, rest

VOL. XXVIII-26

ing like a huge mirror, in the mountaingorge, and watched with enthusiasm every snowy wing that flitted by, and admired every wavelet that broke in sparkling spray at his tender feet; and it was there that he taught himself to kneel at nature's shrine, and to acknowledge, that

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

From Glenorchy, Wilson was removed to Glasgow-thence to Oxford, where he entered Magdalen College, as a gentleman-commoner. Whilst at the latter place he exhibited many of those irregularities and eccentricities out of which so many journalists have fabricated the foulest falsehoods. Dr. Mackenzie has displayed much wisdom and excellent taste in passing over these things in silence.

It is true, he informed us how he fought the bully, but he does not dwell upon it as a matter of any importance. It would have been to little purpose to have told us how Wilson used to run up lofty mountains-how he swam rivers-how he danced at fairs and flirted with the lassies. In these things he did no more than might be expected from any healthy, vigorous youth. The fact that Robert Clive was a naughty boy at school, and that he twice attempted to blow his brains out, did not prevent him from crowning himself and his country with unfading honour in India. The fact that Warren Hastings was a wayward and impulsive youth, strongly given to sentiment, did not prevent him from making a splendid government out of a people, broken down by internal broils and misrule. These extravagances are not always ominous of evil-they are frequently the mark of that restlessness of spirit which in the future is almost certain to achieve great and noble results. They are a part of the inheritance of genius. But it is not concerning these things that we wish to be informed. We prefer to know something of the moral and intellectual culture of the man, and in these preferences Dr. Mackenzie has gratified us.

When Wilson departed from Oxford a

cotemporary said of him: "When he left us Oxford seemed as if a shadow had fallen upon its beauty." Between 1809 and 1812, he married an English heiress, of great beauty and accomplishments. Instead of spending his honey-moon amid the rejoicings and congratulations of friends, he journeyed with his bride on foot over the whole of Scotland! This was a most fortunate match-the union of the eagle to the dove. From 1812 to 1817, he passed his time at Elleray, situated upon the banks of the beautiful Windermere. Up to this time Wilson had published two poems-one upon the death of James Grahame-another, entitled the "Isle of Palms," and these had given him considerable reputation. His name was now favourably known throughout England and Scotland; but the arena was just beginning to be opened in which he was to display the power of his mighty genius. He came before the public at a time when nothing but the greatest energies and noblest powers could gain an audience.

Having thus rapidly gone over the most prominent events of the youth and early manhood of Wilson, it now becomes necessary to depart a little from the main subject, in order to bring before the reader the causes and the influences, that shaped his future destinies. It is essential that we look a little into the Periodical Literature of the times in which our author livedthe circumstances with which he was surrounded, and to notice the men, with whom he had to contend in the race, for honour and fame.

The Edinburgh Review was established in 1807, and was the forerunner of of one of the most brilliant periods in the history of literature. It is an interesting fact, that this organ, which was destined to wield such a powerful influence in politics, literature, science and religion, should date its origin back to the playful remarks of three young, unknown men, who were without money, without friends, and with nothing to recommend their project, but their fiery zeal and their brilliant intellects. Sidney Smith set out for Germany, but be

fore he reached there, Germany "became the seat of war." He remained five years at Edinburgh-and during that time the Review was put on foot. "Among the first persons," says he, "with whom I became acquainted, were Lord Jeffrey, Lord Murray, (late Lord Advocate for Scotland;) and Lord Brougham; all of them maintaining opinions upon political subjects a little too liberal for the dynasty of Dundas, then exercising supreme power over the northern division of the island. One day we happened to meet in the eight or ninth story or flat of Buccleuch Place, the elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey. I proposed that we should set up a Review; this was acceded to with acclamation. I was appointed editor, and remained long enough in Edinburgh to edit the first number of the Edinburgh Review. The motto I proposed for the Review was

"Tenui musam meditamur avena

"We cultivate literature upon a little oat-meal. But this was too near the truth to be admitted, and so we took our present grave motto from Publius Syrus, of whom none of us had, I am sure, ever read a single line; and so began what has since turned out to be a very important and able journal. When I left Edinburgh it fell into the stronger hands of Lord Jeffrey and Lord Brougham, and reached the highest point of popu larity and success."

This

Prior to its advent the cause of letters seems to have been on the decline. was not, however, really the case. This literary lethargy grew out of the fact that public attention was turned in another direction. Great political questions, involving the peace and happiness of kingdoms and empires, were exciting the minds of the people. The burning eloquence of such men as Fox, Pitt and Burke was claiming the admiration of the world; and Napoleon Bonaparte, like a brilliant meteor, was blazing aloft, and by the power of his mind and the greatness of achievements in the Cabinet and on the battle-field, had struck the nations mute with astonishment. Victory after

victory was heralded with acclamations, which filled the hearts of his enemies with dread and shook their thrones, as with the might of a tornado. Upon every breeze were borne his brilliant deeds, and kingdoms trembled at his name. Around him had assembled a corps of military men, whose bravery, skill, and daring had never been surpassed. Into the military science he had infused a new and wonderful life, and around the bloody name of war he had thrown the spirit of romance. His movements were so rapid—his victories, over armies, that had never before been conquered, so brilliant,-his courage, so great and his knowledge in everything that related to men and governments so profound, that we are not surprised that literary men paused from their labours to admire a genius so stupendous and sublime. Amid these great political agitations and military achievements the age of Pericles was forgotten. Sophocles, Euripides and Eschylus were no longer studied as models. The Elizabethan era ceased to fill the mind with love and veneration. Sydney and Raleigh and Spenser failed to attract attention. The "Faery Queen was neglected; and the "Arcadia" was no longer remembered with delight. That period in the history of literature, which proudly boasted such names as Richardson, Fielding and Smollet was forgotten in political questions of vast magnitude, or was dimmed by daring deeds, the like of which no other age had ever seen.

It is with pleasure that we avail ourself of the following just and elegant remarks from the work of Thomas B. Shaw upon English Literature: "During the actual ardour of any great political struggle, mens' minds are too intent upon the more immediate and personal question, and their views too much narrowed and distorted by prejudice and polemics for any great achievement in general literature to be expected; but it is in the period of tranquillity immediately succeeding such great national revolutions, that the human intellect soars aloft with steadfast, broadest and sublimest wing

into the calm empyrean of poetry and philosophy

"Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth."

Other causes, therefore, in connection with the energy, industry and genius of two or three men, conspired to render the Edinburgh Review successful. That individual talent and industry did much toward giving it a permanent position, we do not deny; but we must refer its unparalleled popularity to the great reaction that took place in politics-in religion-in science and in literature, toward the latter part of the French Revolution. The year 1802 was an auspicious period for the establishment of such an enterprise. Healthy criticism had almost perished. It had sunk to such a degree that an author expected to be complimented with the most fulsome panegyric, or to be insulted by the most withering sarcasm.

The Review coming before the public at such a time, with its dignified criticisms, glowing with the light of genius, and aided by the prestige of ethical and philosophical reasonings, could not fail to make an impression upon all classes of society, and to claim the attention of other countries. It became the mighty vehicle of political and literary power. By the purity of its morals; the boldness of its language; the fearlessness of its spirit; the fierceness of its attacks, and the ability it displayed upon all subjects, it immediately took a position which few periodicals have ever since attained. In its columns might be seen the splendid essays of Jeffrey; the sparkling wit of Smith; the glowing articles of Brougham; and at a later period of its history, those gorgeous productions of Macaulay, which add a dignity to the cause of literature, and encircle the Review with a halo of glory. From 1803 to late in 1829, Francis Jeffrey was its sole editor. To the arduous duties of this position, he brought a mind welltrained by study, and well-stored with knowledge. His perception was fine; his taste pure;-his imagination brilliant;

his heart kind; his judgment generally correct; and his analysis as keen as a two-edged sword. To all this we may add that he was young and ardent, and entered the arena with the determination of "familiarizing the public mind with higher speculations and sounder and larger views of the great objects of human pursuit than had ever before been brought as effectually home to their apprehensions; and also in permanently raising the standard and in increasing the influence of all such occasional writings; not only in this country, but over the greater part of Europe and the free States of America." How nobly he accomplished these results the subsequent history of the Review fully attests. A journal setting out with such high aims and with such liberal views, should always have been just and impartial. This, however, was not the case. As a whig organ it was fierce and vindictive; and as a literary review its criticisms were not always written with candour and justice. Influenced by prejudice, it frequently manifested a spirit of pique that was disgraceful to the editor and dishonourable to all concerned. Jeffrey waged a bitter and relentless war against the School of Lakers. In the "Excursion" of Wordsworth he could see but few beauties, and he prefaced his remarks upon it with these words: "This will never do." There never was, perhaps, a more scathing criticism penned. While it was written in an elevated and dignified style, yet it sinks into little else than down-right abuse. That this severity was unmerited the continued popularity of the work shows. His remarks upon the White Doe of Rylstone are no better-if anything they are worse. The same vindictive spirit was manifested against Robert Southey. Coming from such a source, clad in the beauty of diction, glowing with the might of genius, and proclaimed from a seat of such power and; authority, such withering strokes hurled against literary men who had many admirers, and against political measures which had many supporters, could not fail to awaken feelings of hostility and opposition. For

fifteen years the Edinburgh Review held undisputed sway. Its authority was supreme. Men and measures had been forced to submit to the great Autocrat of the North, A new set of men had, however, come upon the stagemen who were as profound as Jeffrey,— as witty as Smith, and as powerful as Brougham. The Tory party could no longer submit to have their principles assailed with argument, abuse, ridicule and satire without retaliation-hence was established that famous magazine over which John Wilson presided with so much ability and dignity for so many years. The first number of Blackwood's Magazine was published on the first of April 1817. It was edited by Pringle and Cleghorn, and Dr. Mackenzie says that dull and decent" would truly characterize the opening number. It had been established by Blackwood, a man of great vivacity and intelligence, to oppose the wit, satire and argument of the Edinburgh Review, and this first display did not meet with his approbation. It was not long before the publisher and editors quarrelled. They went over to Constable, leaving Blackwood to act both as editor and publisher. Each number now improved. James Hogg, John Wilson, Robert Pierce Gillies were among the contributors. The success of the magazine began with the "Chaldee Manuscript" a daring satire upon Pringle, Cleghorn, Constable, and Jeffrey. It was written by James Hogg, and was in the form of Scripture,-being divided into chapters and verses. count of this article suits were instituted against Blackwood, and it cost him 1000 pounds. Thenceforward the magazine was triumphant. The most brilliant men of the age, caught by the boldness and daring of the Chaldee Manuscript, rushed to its support. But of all this number, he who held the directing and controlling power was Wilson. He breathed into it a new spirit and infused into it a new and beautiful life. Though his name was concealed, yet all acknowledged that a masterly hand was at the helm. The public asked the name of this new editor, and was answered,

On ac

Christopher North. Few men can distinguish one name; but here we have an example of a man who has immortalized two, and each stands forth separate and distinct. Month after month, with this eidolon, Wilson sent forth those magnificent and gorgeous essays, which have made his name a household word in all the regions of the earth, and will hand it down in glory to the most distant posterity. Blackwood's Magazine inaugurated a new era in periodical literature. It overcame all difficulties; triumphed over all enemies; spread the richest blessings throughout Scotland; and dignified the cause of learning. It promised the return of the poetical age of Robert Burns.

Young, ardent, and enthusiastic, Wilson entered the arena, while around him were towering aloft intellectual giants, with whom he had to contend. From. Italy came in mournful melody the strains of Lord Byron. Robert Southey was in his gala-time. De Quincey was preparing the "Opium Eater;" and Macaulay was maturing those splendid essays upon Milton and Machiavelli. John Wilson Croker was in the ranks. William Wordsworth had already achieved a name. Thomas Moore was pouring forth his "melting murmurs," and

* "mad Coleridge, the mystical Lacon, Who out cants wild Kant, and out bacons Bacon,

The vain, self-tormenting, and eloquent railer,

Who out of his tropes, jerries Jeremy Taylor,"

claimed his share of attention. In Scotland, the shepherd, James Hogg, was pasturing his flock, and wrapped in his humble plaid was drinking inspiration from the twinkling stars that nightly kissed the waves of Loch Lomond and rested upon the summit of Ben Nevis. Robert Sym had girded on his armour. Dr. Maginn, known as Sir Morgan Odoherty, was sharpening his blade for the contest. Lockhart was dreaming over "Peter and his Kinsfolk." Sir Walter Scott was then the Great Unknown, and Francis Jeffrey was the terror of the North.