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tem of naval tactics or not, were far above that idea,) had been Solicitor-General under the Whig Government of 1805 and 1806, and had since risen into great practice. It is difficult to describe a person whose condition in repose and in action -that is, in his private and his professional life-almost amounted to the possession of two natures.

"A contracted limb, which made him pitch when he walked, and only admitted of his standing erect by hanging it in the air, added to the peculiarity of a figure with which so many ideas of oddity were connected. Blue eyes, very bushy eyebrows, coarse grizzly hair, always in disorder, and firm projecting features, made his face and head not unlike those of a thorough-bred shaggy terrier. It was a countenance of great thought and great decision."

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Lord Cockburn's description, like the subject of it, seems to "pitch little in its gait. It rises and falls, praises and dispraises, commends and ridicules, in very rapid alternation. John Clerk "had a strong, working, independent, ready head;" and he was, moreover, "honest, warm-hearted, generous, and simple."

"These excellences, however, were affected by certain peculiarities or habits, which segregated him from the whole human

race.

One of these was an innocent admiration both of his own real merits and achievements, and of all the supposed ones which his simplicity ascribed to himself. He was saved from the imputation of vanity in this, by the sincerity of the delusion."

Vanity is most assuredly not such a peculiarity as segregates a man from the whole human race;" and this is the first time it ever was said that a man ceases to be vain by being sincere in his self-estimation.

"Every consideration was lost in eagerness for the client whose merit lay in this, that he has relied upon me, John Clerk. Nor was his the common zeal of a counsel. It was a passion. He did not take his fee, plead the cause well, hear the result, and have done with it; but gave the client his temper, his perspiration, his nights, his reason, his whole body and soul, and very often the fee to boot. His real superiority lay in his legal learning, and his hard reasoning. But he would have been despicable in his own sight, had he reasoned without defying and insulting the adversary and the unfavourable judges; the last of whom he always felt

under an especial call to abuse, because they were not merely obstructing justice, but thwarting him. So that pugnacity was his line."

"Neither in speaking nor in anything else was he at all entangled with the graces; but his manner was always sensible and natural."

If so, not, at all events, ungraceful.

"Very unequal: no distinguished counsel made so many bad appearances. But then he made many admirable ones, and always redeemed himself out of the bad ones by displays of great depth and ability."

Not very bad if they were so redeemed.

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There is much more, and very curious matter, reported of this John Clerk, who, whatever his body and limbs may be, is said to have had "muscular mind," and withal a very even in his least successful encounters to have "died scalping." But we cannot indulge ourselves, or readers, any further in these mere curiosities of literature, and must proceed to the main subject of the biography. With this they really have so little connection, that it was well to introduce them at once. readers will not now be startled if they meet with some singular expressions, or statements somewhat perplexing; they will understand that this is the style and manner of the present biographer.

Our

The preface opens with a paragraph on Lord Jeffrey, which we read both before and after our perusal of the body of the work, and which still remains a mystery to us. It is a very ominous passage; but we must content ourselves with quoting it. Perhaps some of our readers may be more fortunate than ourselves in explaining the riddle.

"There are both advantages and disadvantages in the nearness of a man's One of the biography to his own life. disadvantages consists in the difficulty of speaking plainly of persons still living, or recently dead. 'His greatest fault, (says Lord Jeffrey of Hardy's Life of Charlemont,) is that he does not abuse anybody, even when the dignity of history and virtue calls loudly for such an infliction.' And, no doubt, this is a serious objection. But if the biographer of Charlemont felt the indelicacy of the

censorian duty in a work published eleven years after the death of his subject, how would he have recoiled from it within less than two? But, indeed, there were few persons whom Jeffrey himself abused; and though there were some public matters connected with his life, on which it would not be wrong to speak, even now, in terms of severe condemnation, it would be unworthy of his magnanimous spirit, to recall provocations which he had forgotten."

We do not generally say that a man displays his magnanimity by forgetting the provocations which he himself has given. But let that pass. What are these "public matters" connected with the life of Jeffrey which Lord Cockburn would speak of in terms of severe condemnation ? We find in the biography itself not the least approach to severe condemnation. Something has been suppressed in the biography, or this unhappy sentence in the preface expresses much more than was intended.

The tenor of the biography is laudatory; praise is occasionally given in large, unqualified measure; and yet it cannot be said, on the whole, that the effect is to raise Lord Jeffrey in the estimation of the reader. Lord Cockburn does not at all times manifest a disposition to conceal the weaknesses of his friend: his is by no means an affectionate, or reverential biography, or, at all events, has not the art of exciting_affection or reverence in others. He does not magnify-he minifies his object. Perhaps this effect of the biography is, in great measure, produced by the indiscreet use made of the correspondence of Jeffrey. Some of the earlier letters it would have been better to omit; and the majority are of that domestic character which rendered them valuable to those, and to those only, to whom they were addressed. The biographer, it seems to us, should have interwoven such extracts as he thought fit for his purpose, with his own narrative. They were materials for biography - nothing more; to publish them as a volume of "Correspondence" was almost an injustice to his memory.

This minishing effect results, as we have said, from no want of broad strokes of praise, but from the un

definable impressions of a number of minor details. The book opens, indeed, with a flourish of the trumpet somewhat astounding : "Francis Jeffrey, the greatest of British critics! was born," &c. Every age has its own style of criticism, as it has its own poetry; and Jeffrey, belonging to our own age, must represent our critical feelings and judgments far more accurately than his predecessors. But does Jeffrey represent his own age more effectively than several other living writers who could be named? We will not, for very obvious reasons, answer this question categorically. We will look for examples in the past. Does Jeffrey represent his own age more fully or effectively than Johnson did the age in which he lived? Those who have least admired the author of the Lives of the Poets and the Introduction to Shakspeare, have still observed that he was even somewhat in advance of his contemporaries, and read many a useful lesson to the poets, and other writers of his own period. Can it be said of Jeffrey that he was before his age? Has it not been lamented by many, and by those who had no cause for personal enmity to the editor of the Edinburgh Review, that he had adopted narrow principles of taste-correct, but of limited application; so that, just in proportion as a writer was bold and original, was his chance diminished of a full and cordial appreciation? We will not echo in so many words this opinion; we shall have the opportunity of gradually unfolding our own estimate of the writings of Jeffrey. We will content ourselves with stating here, as the key-note of what may afterwards follow, that we consider the great deficiency of his intellectual character to have been a want of earnestness. We too often see before us a man thinking what may be plausibly said, and that on either side of the question, rather than one very solicitous to determine the truth. We find in the intellectual constitution of Jeffrey a deficiency in that reflective and contemplative habit, that serious pondering on the truths or the perplexities of philosophy, without which no man was ever a great writer, or a good critic of great writers. To us he appears a most

able, dexterous penman, capable of advocating every opinion,-an ambidexterous man, and fond of showing with what skill and readiness he can gather his materials with the left hand as well as with the right;withal a man of no ill intentions;wishing rather to do good in his own unenthusiastic manner, but having no faith, and no great seriousness, even in his own doubts;-an accomplished, versatile talker; a critical Bayle-a Bayle in miniature, and without his mischief.

Having thus at once struck our key-note, we shall proceed to take some brief review ourselves of the

life and writings of Lord Jeffrey He was born in Edinburgh, 23d October 1773. From this date we pass to the year 1788, which finds him, a youth of fifteen, at the college of Glasgow, where he is acknowledged to be "the ablest student in Mr Jardine's logic class." From Glasgow he is removed to Edinburgh, and from Edinburgh to Oxford; but nowhere else does he seem to have much profited by, or been deeply interested in, academical studies. He was, however, a vigorous student after his own independent method. And here the biography opens upon us in a manner highly interesting to those who had only known Jeffrey from his published writings. We see the same intellectual character in youth that was more fully developed in mature years. He writes essay upon essay, translations, critiques, and then criticises his own essays, his own translations and criticism. He writes a review of himself-a "Sketch of my own Character," as he calls it-chiefly for the analytic practice it affords him. It is egotism without self-love. He writes a speech "on the model of Demosthenes;" and when he has finished it, he breaks out, "On the model of Demosthenes! Admirably executed! I wonder," &c. Do we not trace here the dexterous critic of future days, who was always seen balancing plausibility against plausibility, and reasoning against reasoning a man of eternal say, and of the least possible faith?

The most striking extract which is here given us of these private studies, is a note appended to an

epitome of his own of the philosophy of Lucretius. It is nearly as well written as anything he ever penned, and with far more energy than he often afterwards exhibited.

"The epitome I have now completed of this beautiful author is, I am sensible, a very disgraceful performance. The poetical beauties of the original are entirely lost: the ingenious climax of argument, which he has uniformly adopted, as well as the rhetorical declamation he has employed to enforce them, are also necessarily annihilated in a work which only gives the result of the process, and is content with barely stating the sum of the reasoning. The explanation of the sophy of Lucretius much undervalued, matter is this: Having heard the philoand partly ridiculed by personages whose condemnation I have been accustomed to regard as an infallible token of merit in the object of it, I resolved, as usual, to employ my own judgment either to reverse or confirm their award. A bare perusal I at first thought would be sufficient for this purpose; but so uniformly was I transported and carried away by the charms of the poetry, and the inimitable strength of the expressions, that I generally forgot the subject in which they were displayed; and, in the enthusiasm of admiration, lost that cool impartiality which alone can produce a correct judgment. It was necessary, then, to direct the philosophy, the reason of this poem, from that blaze of light which, by dazzling the senses, prevented them from judging truly. I have done so; and the few preceding pages contain the execution. This is all I think necessary to write for my future information. The result of my experiment I do not choose to perpetuate. My judgment, I decaying; and while that is not the case, hope, for some years will not at least be I should wish it always to form its daily opinion from a daily exertion. authority of our own opinion, though perhaps the least dangerous of any, still participates in those inconveniences which all species of authority create; and while a man's powers are unimpaired, it were a lucky thing if he could every day forget the sentiments of the former, that they might receive the correction or confirmation of a second judgment."

The

What other youth, who could use his pen so well, would not first of all have recorded "the results of the experiment?" or are there many instances of so mature a habit of doubt, or of suspended judgment, in a

youth of eighteen? This paper bears date, Edinburgh, September 3, 1790.

At Oxford he seems to have done little. The place had few attractions for him. We presume that the Tory politics of his father had much to do with his being entered at Oxford. The elder Jeffrey carried his politics to the extreme of bigotry-for he prevented his son from attending the lectures of Professors Millar and Dugald Stewart, because they had a leaning to Whig politics. This bigotry in the father was sufficient in itself to make a Whig of his intelligent and energetic son. Left to himself, and the natural tendencies of his own intellectual character, Jeffrey would very probably have been a Tory; for he had much timidity in all his political speculations, and no faith in the future progress of society, and was generally in that frame of mind which makes a man seek safety rather than improvement. But the bigotry of the Tories had thrown him into the arms of the Whigs-and, once there, it was not in his nature to desert his party. This would have required very strong convictions of an opposite character. Once enrolled amongst the Whigs, it was to be expected that he would be borne on by his party-advocating their cause, however, with moderation-and not failing, from time to time, to throw over it something of his own doubt, and hesitation, and despondency.

But we are somewhat digressing in these remarks. At Oxford he appears to have cultivated poetry, and not without some ambitious aspirations. Writing from that place to his sister, he says, "I feel I shall never be a great man unless it be as a poet." Yet, after writing many pages of verse, he never published a single line. It is a case, we think, without a parallel. He once, we are told, "left a poem with a bookseller, to be published, and fled to the country; and, finding some obstacle had occurred, he returned, recovered his manuscript, rejoicing that he had been saved, and never renewed so perilous an experiment." It is a singular instance of prudence, or of hesitation; but it is in perfect keeping with the character of Jeffrey a light-hearted man in the society of

his friends, and dealing with levity enough with whatever topics he discoursed or wrote upon, yet, in reality, full of distrust and despondency.

Yet even Jeffrey did not destroy his manuscript the poetry is still in existence: he left it to others to perform the last cruel office-perhaps left it to others to decide whether the manuscript should be burnt or published. No specimens are here given; and Lord Cockburn intimates that they would not raise the reputation of the author. "Not that there are not tons of worse verse published, and bought, and even read, every year, but that this publication would not elevate Jeffrey." We have no doubt that a wise discretion has been displayed upon the subject.

Lord Cockburn observes that he had one poetical quality in an eminent degree-an intense love of nature. Throughout his life this source of enjoyment never seems to have failed. It was a genuine and constant delight. Nevertheless, we cannot but remark that, in all the descriptive passages which are scattered through the Memoirs and the Letters, he rather describes nature as a painter would, than as a poet. He is anxious to convey by words the exact impressions the scenes would make upon the eye-and he is tolerably successful in doing so; but he does not describe the scene through the feelings and imagination which it calls up.

Of course, it was not to be expected that one who had been tampering with poetry would apply himself at once, and without a single faltering step, to the arduous profession of the law. We hear of despondency and vacillation-and at one time he even had thoughts of pursuing a literary life in London, "settling there as a grub." He went to London and delivered certain letters of introduction; but they availed him nothing, and he speedily returned. Considering the temptations he had to diverge from it, we may say that he manifested, upon the whole, considerable resolution and constancy in his adherence to the legal profession.

This constancy was favoured by an early marriage-which took place 1st November 1801. Then came what must be considered as the most

important event in the life of Jeffrey -the establishment of the Edinburgh Review. How the project originated is now so well and generally known, that we need not repeat the facts. The first number, after some delay and postponement, appeared on the 10th October 1802. The event is quite worthy of the song of triumph with which Lord Cockburn celebrates it :

"The effect was electrical. And instead of expiring, as many wished, in their first effort, the force of the shock was increased on each subsequent discharge. It is impossible for those who did not live at the time, and in the heart of the scene, to feel, or almost to understand, the impression made by the new luminary, or the anxieties by which its motions were observed. It was an entire and instant change of everything that the public had been accustomed to in that sort of composition. The old periodical opiates were extinguished at once. The learning of the new journalits talents, its spirit, its writing, its independence-were all new; and the surprise was increased by a work so full of public hope springing up suddenly in a remote part of the kingdom."

On the politics of the new Review there were, of course-and there still are the most opposite opinions; but its effect on the periodical literature of the country must be acknowledged by every one to have been immense. Next to the great discoverers and writers of high and original genius, no men perform a more useful and more honourable office than those who extend amongst the many the ideas and the knowledge already in the possession of the few. This is one of the chief functions of periodical literature. There are occasionally essays worthy of the most original thinkers in all our more eminent periodicals; but their great and constant service is the diffusion, over the whole community, of the taste, judgment, reasoning, and knowledge of an educated and cultivated class. This invaluable service was now performed by the Edinburgh Review in a novel, a most effective, and incomparable manner, and by a class of men who might have been justified in pursuing an independent career in literature or in science. Nor is there any one individual who can claim so large a share in the merit of

this work as Jeffrey. His talents found here their most suitable arena. He could discourse, and examine, and weigh, and suggest, without always being required very distinctly to decide; whilst, at the same time, his position as the organ of a great party restrained him from any conspicuous or unbecoming vacillation.

We shall break the thread of the biography to throw a glance at once on some of those contributions to the Review which peculiarly display the intellectual character, the powers, and the opinions of its able editor. We shall of course make use only of those which were selected and republished by the author, after a considerable interval. Amongst these, one of the most elaborate is a review of a work of Madame de Stael-De la Littérature considerée dans les Rapports avec les Institutions Sociales; and, on republishing it, the author appends the following note :"I reprint this paper as containing a more comprehensive view of the progress of literature, especially in the ancient world, than any other from which I could make the selection; and also, in some degree, for the sake of the general discussion on Perfectibility, which I still think satisfactorily conducted." It is precisely to this discussion on Perfectibility we will turn, to show in how unsatisfactory a manner our author was accustomed to reason, as well as to illustrate the dubious and desponding character of his political or social speculations.

"The professed object," he says, "of this work (Madame de Stael's) is to show that all the peculiarities in the literature explained by a reference to the condition of different ages and countries may be of society, and the political and religious institutions of each; and at the same time to point out in what way the progress of letters has, in its turn, modified and affected the government and religions of those nations among whom they have flourished. All this, however, is bottomed upon the more fundamental and favourite proposition that there is a progress to produce these effects-that letters and intelligence are in a state of constant, universal, and irresistible advancement;in other words, that human nature is

This

tending, by a slow and interminable progression, to a state of perfection. fascinating idea seems to have been kept constantly in view by Madame de Stack,

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