present. The situation of the city, on a hill shelving down on both sides, as well as to the east, with the stately castle upon a craggy rock on the west, is inexpressibly fine; and the main street so broad and finely paved, with the lofty houses on either hand, (many of them seven or eight stories high,) is far beyond any in Great Britain. But how can it be suffered, that all manner of filth should still be thrown even into this street continually? Where are the magistracy, the gentry, the nobility of the land? Have they no concern for the honour of their nation? How long shall the capital city of Scotland, yea, and the chief street of it, stink worse than a common sewer? Will no lover of his country, or of decency and common sense, find a remedy for this?

Holyrood-House, at the entrance of Edinburgh, the ancient palace of the Scottish kings, is a noble structure;

JOHN WESLEY.

From the Portrait by Nathaniel Hone, R.A., in the National Portrait Gallery.

it was re-built and furnished by King Charles the Second. One side of it is a picture gallery, wherein are pictures of all the Scottish kings; and an original one of the celebrated Queen Mary. It is scarce possible for any who looks at this, to think her such a monster as some have painted her; nor indeed for any who considers the circumstances of her death, equal to that of an ancient martyr.

I preached in the evening at Musselburgh, and at five in the morning. Then we rode on to Haddington, where (the rain driving me in) I preached, between nine and ten, in Provost Dickson's parlour. About one I preached at North-Berwick, a pretty large town, close to the seashore; and, at seven in the evening, (the rain continuing,) in the house at Dunbar.

Wed. 13.-It being a fair mild evening, I preached near the Key, to most of the inhabitants of the town, and spoke full as plain as the evening before. Every one seemed to receive it in love: probably if there was regular preaching here, much good might be done. . . . Wed. [May] 13, [1772].-I preached at Leith, in the

most horrid, dreary Room I have seen in the kingdom But the next day I found another kind of Room; airy, cheerful, and lightsome; which Mr Parker undertook to fit up for the purpose, without any delay.

Sun. 17.-I had appointed to preach at noon in the Lady's Walk, at Leith; but being offered the use of the Episcopal chapel, I willingly accepted it, and both read Prayers and preached. Here also the behaviour of the congregation did honour to our church.

Mon. 18.-Dr Hamilton brought with him Dr Monro and Dr Gregory. They satisfied me what my disorder was; and told me there was but one method of cure. Perhaps but one natural one; but I think God has more than one method of healing either the soul or the body.

In the evening (the weather being still severe) I preached in the new House at Leith, to a lovely audience, on, Narrow is the way that leadeth unto life.' Many were present again at five in the morning. How long have we toiled here almost in vain! Yet I cannot but hope God will at length have a people even in this place.

Wed. 20.-I took my leave of Edinburgh in the morning, by strongly enforcing the Apostle's exhortation, 'Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.'

I had designed to preach (as usual) at Provost Dixon's, in Haddington, in the way to Dunbar. But the Provost, too, had received light from the 'Circular Letter,' and durst not receive those heretics. So we went round by the Marquis of Tweedale's seat, completely finished within and without. But he that took so much delight in it is gone to his long home, and has left it to one that has no taste or regard for it. So rolls the world away! In the evening I preached at Dunbar.

Thur. 21.-I went to the Bass, seven miles from it, which, in the horrid reign of Charles the Second, was the prison of those venerable men who suffered the loss of all things for a good conscience. It is a high rock surrounded by the sea, two or three miles in circumference, and about two miles from the shore. The strong east wind made the water so rough, that the boat could hardly live: And when we came to the only landing-place, (the other sides being quite perpendicular,) it was with much difficulty that we got up, climbing on our hands and knees. The castle, as one may judge by what remains, was utterly inaccessible. The walls of the chapel, and of the governor's house, are tolerably entire. The garden walls are still seen near the top of the rock, with the well in the midst of it. And round the walls there are spots of grass, that feed eighteen or twenty sheep. But the proper natives of the island are Solund geese, a bird about the size of a Muscovy duck, which breed by thousands, from generation to generation, on the sides of the rock. It is peculiar to these, that they lay but one egg, which they do not sit upon at all, but keep it under one foot, (as we saw with our eyes,) till it is hatched. How many prayers did the holy men confined here offer up, in that evil day! And how many thanksgivings should we return, for all the liberty, civil and religious, which we enjoy!

At our return, we walked over the ruins of Tantallon Castle, once the seat of the great Earls of Douglas. The front walls (it was four square) are still standing, and by their vast height and huge thickness, give us a little idea of what it once was. Such is human greatness!

Fri. 22.-We took a view of the famous Roman camp,

lying on a mountain, two or three miles from the town. It is encompassed with two broad and deep ditches, and is not easy of approach on any side. Here lay General Lesley with his army, while Cromwell was starving below. He had no way to escape; but the enthusiastic fury of the Scots delivered him. When they marched into the valley to swallow him up, he mowed them down like grass.

Sat. 23.—I went on to Alnwick, and preached in the Town-Hall. What a difference between an English and a Scotch congregation! These judge themselves rather than the Preacher; and their aim is, not only to know, but to love and obey.

Wesley on Chesterfield's Letters.

[Wed., Oct. 11, 1775.]-I borrowed here a volume of Lord Chesterfield's Letters, which I had heard very strongly commended. And what did I learn?-That he was a man of much wit, middling sense, and some learning; but as absolutely void of virtue, as any Jew, Turk, or Heathen, that ever lived. I say, not only void of all religion, (for I doubt whether he believed there is a God, though he tags most of his letters with the name, for better sound sake,) but even of virtue, of justice, and mercy, which he never once recommended to his son. And truth he sets at open defiance: He continually guards him against it. Half his letters inculcate deep dissimulation, as the most necessary of all accomplishments. Add to this, his studiously instilling into the young man all the principles of debauchery, when himself was between seventy and eighty years old. Add his cruel censure of that amiable man, the Archbishop of Cambray, (quantum dispar illi,) as a mere time-serving hypocrite! And this is the favourite of the age! Whereas, if justice and truth take place, if he is rewarded according to his desert, his name will stink to all generations.

Witchcraft.

[Wed., May 25, 1768.]-It is true likewise that the English in general, and indeed most of the men of learning in Europe, have given up all accounts of witches and apparitions as mere old wives' fables. I am sorry for it, and I willingly take this opportunity of entering my solemn protest against this violent compliment which so many that believe the Bible pay to those who do not believe it. I owe them no such service. I take knowledge, these are at the bottom of the outcry which has been raised, and with such insolence spread through the land in direct opposition not only to the Bible, but to the suffrage of the wisest and best of men in all ages and nations. They well know (whether Christians know it or not) that the giving up witchcraft is in effect giving up the Bible; and they know, on the other hand, that if but one account of the intercourse of men with separate spirits be admitted, their whole structure (Deism, Atheism, Materialism) falls to the ground.

John Wesley's works have often been edited. The first collected edition (just after his death) was in 32 vols. ; that of 1856-57, the eleventh, was in 15 vols. See John's Life by Tyerman (new ed. 1876), and those by Southey (1820), Miss Wedgwood (1870), Urlin (1270), Rigg (1875), Telford (1886), Overton (1891), Kirton, Bevan,

and others.

Charles Wesley (1707-88) studied at Westminster (where he was the protector of the Jacobite Scotch boy afterwards to be Lord Mansfield) and at Christ Church, Oxford, where he was known

as a 'Methodist' early in 1729. But it was not till 1738 that, like his elder brother, he came under the influence of Peter Böhler and found rest to his soul.' Though they differed about the ordination of ministers and on other points, Charles was in the main and throughout life an indefatigable lieutenant to his greater brother, becoming an itinerant preacher. In 1771 he settled with his family in London. Though he did vastly less work in prose than John, he is by far the most copious of English hymn-writers, and is also one of the best. He is said to have written six thousand five hundred hymns, the bulk of which were carefully revised and often corrected by John. Many of them are really great religious poetry; amongst the number are the well-known 'Jesu, Lover of my Soul;' 'O for a thousand tongues to sing;' 'Hark the herald angels sing;' 'Love divine, all loves excelling;' 'O for a heart to praise my God;' 'O Love divine, how sweet thou art; Gentle Jesus, meek and mild.' And of 'Come, O thou traveller unknown,' Watts said, too enthusiastically, that it was worth all the hymns he himself had ever written.

The poetical works of the two brothers, edited for the Wesleyan Conference, fill thirteen volumes (1868-72). There are Lives of Charles by Jackson (1841-49) and Telford (1886); of Samuel, the elder brother, by Tyerman (1866); of their mother, by Kirk (1866) and Clark (1886); and of the Wesley family, by Stevenson (1876).

George Whitefield (1714-70), born in the Bell Inn, Gloucester, came to Oxford when the Wesleys had laid the foundations of Methodism, and he became conspicuous for zeal. He took deacon's orders in 1736, and in 1738 joined Wesley in Georgia, returning to be admitted to priest's orders. The religious level of the age was low, and Whitefield found amongst his brethren the most active opposition. But when the parish pulpits were denied him he preached in the open air; and thenceforth spent his life in constant travel and incessant preaching, everywhere moving audiences by his irresistible earnestness and eloquence. About 1741 differences on predestination led to his separation as a strict Calvinist from John Wesley as an Arminian. His supporters now built him a large 'Tabernacle' at Moorfields; and his preaching gathered immense audiences. But he founded no distinct sect, many of his adherents following the Countess of Huntingdon (q.v.) in Wales, and ultimately helping to form the Calvinistic Methodists. The Countess appointed Whitefield her chaplain, and built and endowed many chapels for him. He made seven evangelistic visits to America, and spent the rest of his life in preaching tours through England, Scotland (1741), and Wales. Hume said he was worth travelling twenty miles to hear. He died at Newbury in New England. His writings are strangely tame and commonplace, and sincere admirers regretted that he should have injured his fame by publishing sermons, journals, and

letters which, with the Memoir by Gillies, fill seven volumes (1771-72). There are also Lives by Philip (1838), Andrews (1864), Hursta (1860), and Tyerman (1876).

James Hervey (1714-58), rector of WestonFavell near Northampton, was educated at Oxford and influenced by the Methodist movement. His Meditations among the Tombs, Reflections on a Flower-garden, &c. had an extraordinary sale, and the author is said to have received £700 for the copyright of the first part of his work-a sum he distributed in charity. The Meditations (1745-47; 25th ed. 1791) appealed in prose to the same tastes as Young's Night Thoughts in poetry. Hervey was also author of Theron and Aspasio, or a Series of Letters and Dialogues on the most important Subjects, a marvellously popular work, though there is little real thought or originality, and the substance of the book is largely composed, like the Meditations, of sentimentalism and truisms. He really appreciated the beauties of nature, and his evangelical theology met the temper of the time. His Calvinism exposed him to an assault from John Wesley, who criticised his style as severely as his matter; and Hervey replied in Eleven Letters. He wrote against Bolingbroke; and after his death collections of his letters and sermons were printed, and these, with his works, are comprised in six volumes octavo. When Johnson, on one occasion, ridiculed Hervey's Meditations, Boswell could not join in this treatment of the admired volume. 'I am not an impartial judge,' he says, 'for Hervey's Meditations engaged my affections in my early years.' This apology might have been pleaded by many readers, for the Meditations are written in a flowery, ornate style, which used to captivate the young and persons of immature taste. The inflated description and overstrained pathos with which the work abounds render it distasteful to critical readers; but there is no doubt that Hervey's works have served to soothe many an invalid and mourner.

Joseph Spence (1699–1768), anecdotist, born at Kingsclere, Hants, from Winchester passed to New College, Oxford, and became a Fellow in 1722 and professor of Poetry in 1727. Later he was rector of Birchanger and Great Harwood, professor of Modern History (1737), and a prebendary of Durham (1754). He secured Pope's friendship by his Essay on Pope's Odyssey (1727), and began to record Pope's conversation and anecdotes of other friends and notabilities. In 1736 he edited Sackville's Gorboduc, and in 1747 published his Polymetis. He was drowned at Byfleet in Surrey. The standard edition of the Anecdotes is by Singer (1820; 2nd ed. 1858), with Memoir.

Charles Coffey, a native of Ireland' who died in 1745, produced nine or ten stage-pieces described as farces, operas, ballad operas, ballad farces, and farcical operas, of which the best known was The Devil to Pay, or the Wives Meta

morphosed (1731), on a plot said to have bee suggested by Sidney's Arcadia.

Abraham Tucker (1705–74), born in Lon don, educated at Merton College, Oxford, an entered of the Inner Temple, was wealthy an unambitious. In 1727 he bought an estate nea Dorking, where, instead of pursuing the pleasure of the chase, he devoted himself to philosophica studies, and under the fictitious name of Edward Search, wrote The Light of Nature Pursue (7 vols. 1768–78), which Paley said container more original thinking and observation tha any other work of the kind. His book is no a systematic work, but, as he himself says, ‘a tissue of loose essays;' a melange of disquisitions on psychology, metaphysics, theology, and espe cially morals. In some parts he follows Locke he adopts Hartley's view of the significance of association; and, in ethics, anticipates largely the mild utilitarianism of Paley, the pursuit of our own satisfaction being by the will of God calcu lated also to subserve the well-being of the race. In one short sentence he described his favourite studies: The science of abstruse learning, when completely attained, is like Achilles's spear, that healed the wounds it had made before. It casts no additional light upon the paths of life, but disperses the clouds with which it had overspread them; it advances not the traveller one step on his journey, but conducts him back again to the spot from whence he had wandered.'

Tucker's grandson, Sir H. P. S. Mildmay, published in 1805 a new edition of The Light of Nature, with a Life of Tucker; in 1807 Hazlitt issued (anonymously) an abridgment of the bulky work.

David Hartley (1705-57) was born at Luddenden, Halifax, a clergyman's son, and at twentytwo was a Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge. He studied for the Church, but, dissenting from some points in the Thirty-nine Articles, turned to medicine. In his mature years he impugned the eternity of hell-punishment; in all other points he remained a devout member of the Church of England. As a medical practitioner he attained eminence at Newark, Bury St Edmunds, London, and Bath. In his Observations on Man (1749) are expounded two famous hypotheses-one 'The Doctrine of Vibrations,' or a theory of nervous action analogous to the propagation of sound (whence he was charged-unjustly, he maintained -with materialism); the other the doctrine that the Association of Ideas explains almost all mental phenomena. His theory of vibrations, suggested by a speculation in Newton's Principia, led, though inadequate and inaccurate in itself, to more careful study of the interaction of brain and mind; the association theory, found by Hartley in an undeveloped form in a paper on morals by a littleknown clergyman called Gay, has been conspicuous ever since in English psychology. Hartley and James Mill were discussed in a monograph by Mr G. S. Bower (1881).

manifest interval in his labours as a playwright, which his biographers have occupied with his marriage. His wife was one of three sisters of Salisbury, and her name was Charlotte Cradock. From her husband's description of her in Tom Jones and Amelia, she must have been as amiable as she was beautiful, and she, moreover, brought him £1500 of that pelf which alone preserved him from producing hurried plays. It is also alleged that concurrently he inherited something from his mother; but this is questionable, as in 1735 his mother had long been dead. In any case, he migrated for the time to East Stour, where his childhood had been spent. Legend has freely gathered around this retreat upon the country, and he has been described as leading the life of a lavish fox-hunting squire, with hounds, liveries, and all the regulation honours. But it is demonstrable that in a twelvemonth he was back again in London, managing the little French theatre in the Haymarket, and running there a Lucianic satire on the times called Pasquin. This was a considerable success, and it was followed in 1737 by a similar effort, The Historical Register for the Year 1736. The Historical Register was inferior to Pasquin, but its strokes at Walpole are believed to have aided in precipitating the severe Licensing Act of 1737, which, among other vexatious restrictions, made the consent of the Lord Chamberlain an indispensable preliminary to the production of any play. Its passing was fatal to Fielding's 'scandal shop,' as the Haymarket had come to be popularly called, and it effectually terminated his efforts to 'ridicule Vice and Imposture' through the medium of the stage. His own admission, in later life, that he left off playwriting when he ought to have begun, may be taken to indicate that he himself fully appreciated the haphazard and premature character of his achievement in this kind. Yet it may be reasonably doubted whether, even with wider experience and larger leisure, he would ever have excelled in pure comedy. His satiric and ironic gifts were better employed in the vocation he eventually adopted.

In 1737 he was in his thirty-first year, and on the 1st of November he was admitted a student of the Middle Temple, being still described as of East Stour. For the next three years, or until he was called to the Bar in June 1740, we know but little of his life. His biographers speak of political tracts; and he certainly worked with James Ralph-the Ralph who 'howls to Cynthia' in the Dunciad-upon two volumes of the 'Spectator' essays known as the Champion (1739-40). Then, in November of the latter year, appeared Richardson's Pamela. The origin of this book has been sufficiently discussed in speaking of its author; it remains to trace its connection with the work of Fielding, to whose manly, if somewhat coarsegrained, common-sense, nourished in the school of Molière and Cervantes, its opportunist morality

seemed particularly nauseous. Probably to amuse himself at first, and also to work off an obscure but long-standing grudge against the author of another success of 1740, the Apology of the actor Colley Cibber, Fielding presently set about a burlesque of Pamela, intended to combine the manners of Cibber and Richardson. By a happy stroke of the pen, he turned the "Squire B.' of Pamela into "Squire Booby,' and, inventing a brother for Richardson's heroine, exhibited hiã exposed to the solicitations of the 'Squire's aunt by marriage, a dissolute woman of quality. The scenes resulting from this beginning are the least pleasing of Joseph Andrews. But at the end of the second chapter the author introduced Parson Adams, and, quickly warming to his task, soon discarded his original plan. After Chapter x. the book became practically what it professes to be in its full title-namely, The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews, and his Friend Mr Abraham Adams: Written in Imitation of the Manner of Cervantes. That is to say, it became the first example of a till-then-unattempted type of English Novel. For not only by its Character of perfect Simplicity, the absent-minded, fingersnapping, Eschylus-loving clergyman, did it add a new portrait to the perpetual National Portrait Gallery of English Literature, but it inaugurated a new method in fiction which its author styled the comic Epic-Poem in Prose.' In a lengthy Preface, which was probably an afterthought, or perhaps, to speak more accurately, a premon.tion of something different from his first idea which had gradually dawned upon him during the progress of the volumes, Fielding develops his theory. His aim, he says in effect, was to produce something which should differ from serious romance, not only by its substitution of "light" and ridiculous' incidents for 'grave and solemn' ones, but by its admission among its dramatis persona of characters of inferior rank, and by its employment of ludicrous and even burlesque diction in place of elevated language. These characteristics, partly present in Joseph Andrews, were to receive fuller exemplification in his next novel, Tom Jones (see also above at page 7).

·

Meanwhile, the reception accorded to Joseph Andrews, although encouraging, was not sufficient to make the author's fortune, or even to supplement materially the meagre income he derived from his profession. He brought out a farce, Miss Lucy in Town, in which he had a collaborator; he projected with the Rev. William Young, the reputed original of Parson Adams, a translation of Aristophanes, which got no farther than one play; he issued, by subscription, three volumes of Miscellanies, which, among other things, included a youthful comedy, The Wedding Day. This Garrick produced in 1743, with Mrs Woffington for heorine. But the most important items in the Miscellanies, after deduction of a good deal of occasional verse and prose, were a Lucianic frag