plications, when we insult Him by murmuring under His decrees?"-The Talisman.

"The clergyman had reminded them that the next congregation they must join would be that of the just or the unjust; that the psalms they now heard must be exchanged, in the space of two brief days, for eternal hallelujahs or eternal lamentations ; and that this fearful alternative must depend upon the state to which they might be able to bring their minds before the moment of awful preparation; that they should not despair on account of the suddenness of the summons, but rather feel this comfort in their misery, that, though all who now lifted their voices or bent the knee in conjunction with them lay under the same sentence of certain death, they only had the advantage of knowing the precise moment at which it would be executed upon them. 'Therefore,' urged the good man, his voice trembling with emotion, redeem the time, my unhappy brethren, which is yet left, and remember that, with the grace of Him to whom space and time are but as nothing, salvation may yet be assured, even in the pittance of delay which the laws of your country afford you."" -Heart of Midlothian.

II. Dramatic Power." He is superior to any of his rivals in the creation of incidents, in the manipulation of events, and in the grouping of his characters with a view to secure that dramatic interest so necessary to the dramatic success of a narrative poem."-J. Devey.

Pley

"Almost every appearance of Meg Merrilies is a stage effect as dramatic in situation as it is in language. dell is a comedy in himself.”—L. E. Landon.

"I see in no other author such a combination of truth and ease and dramatic power."-B. W. Procter.

666

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Repeat your defiance when I have counted thrice,' said Everard, and take the punishment of your insolence. OnceI have cocked my pistol. Twice-I never missed my aim. By all that is sacred, I fire if you do not withdraw. When I pronounce the next number, I will shoot you dead where you stand.

I am yet unwilling to shed blood-I give you another chance of flight.

Once-twice-Thrice!'

"Everard aimed at the bosom, and discharged the pistol. The figure waved its arm in an attitude of scorn, and a loud laugh arose, during which the light, as gradually growing weaker, glanced and glimmered upon the apparition of the aged knight, and then disappeared. Everard's life-blood ran cold to his heart. Had he been of human mould,' he thought, the bullet must have pierced him; but I have neither will nor power to fight with supernatural beings.'"-Woodstock.

"As, at the blast of that last trumpet, the guilty shall call upon the mountains to cover them, Leicester's inward thoughts invoked the stately arch which he had built in his pride to burst its strong conjunction and overwhelm him in its ruins. But the cemented stones stood fast, and it was the proud master himself who, as if some actual pressure had bent him to the earth, kneeled down before Elizabeth, and prostrated his brow to the marble flagstones on which she stood.

"Leicester,' said Elizabeth, in a voice which trembled with passion, could I think thou hast practised on me-on me, thy sovereign-on me, thy confiding, thy too-partial mistress-the base and ungrateful deception which thy present confusion surmises-by all that is holy, false lord, that head of thine were in as great peril as ever was thy father's.'"-Kenilworth.

"I agree to it, sir; I agree to it, perfectly,' said Morris, shrinking back as Campbell moved his chair toward him to fortify his appeal; and I incline, sir,' he added, 'to retract my information as to Mr. Osbaldistone; and I request, sir, you will permit him, sir, to go about his business and me to go about mine, also; your worship may have business to settle with Mr. Campbell, and I am rather in haste to be gone.' Then, there go the declarations,' said the Justice, throwing them into the fire; ' and now you are at perfect liberty, Mr. Osbaldistone. And you, Mr. Morris, are set quite at ease.'

“'Ay,' said Campbell, eying Morris as he assented with a rueful grin to the Justice's observations, much like the ease of a toad under a pair of harrows. But fear nothing, Mr. Morris; you and I maun leave the house together.' With such a lingering look of terror as the condemned criminal throws when he is

informed that the cart awaits him, Morris arose ; but, when on his legs, appeared to hesitate. I tell thee, man, fear nothing,' reiterated Campbell; 'I will keep my word with you. Bid the Justice farewell, man, and show your Southern breeding.'

"Morris, thus exhorted and encouraged, took his leave, under the escort of Mr. Campbell; but apparently new scruples and terrors struck him before they left the house, for I heard Campbell reiterating assurances of safety and protection as they left the ante-room.”—Rob Roy.

"On the lower step of this throne, the champion was made to kneel down. And it was observed that he tottered as they guided him the second time across the lists. Rowena, descending with a graceful and dignified step, was about to place the chaplet which she held in her hand upon the helmet of the champion, when the marshals exclaimed, with one voice, 'It must not be thus-his head must be bare!'" -Ivanhoe.

DE QUINCEY, 1785-1859.

Biographical Outline.-Thomas De Quincey, born at Greenheys, Manchester, August 15, 1785; father a merchant of some literary reputation and culture, a contributor to the Gentleman's Magazine; De Quincey's father dies in 1792, leaving an income of £1,600 a year to De Quincey and his five brothers and sisters; the death of three sisters, before he was six years old, had made a profound impression on him, which is recorded in his "Autobiographic Sketches"; he is first taught by his guardian, the Rev. Samuel Hall, at Salford, and rejoices at the absence of his brother William at a boarding-school, leaving the sensitive Thomas to be surrounded by his sisters and not by "horrid, pugilistic brothers"; De Quincey is precocious; he enters the school of Dr. Morgan, at Bath, in 1796, accompanied by his brother Richard ("Pink "); at Bath he attracts attention by his skill in Latin and Greek, writing the latter language easily when thirteen, and conversing in it fluently when fifteen; he is removed from Bath because of illness, due to a blow on the head by an usher; after a period of seclusion with his mother ("to subdue his intellectual vanity"), he enters a school at Winkfield, Wiltshire, more religious than thorough; while at Wiltshire he aids in publishing a school-paper called The Observer; he visits his friend Lord Westport at Eton and also Lord Westport's family in Ireland; visits, also, the family of Lord Carberry, in Northamptonshire, where Lady Carberry has much influence over him; he enters the Manchester GrammarSchool in 1801, hoping to remain three years and thus to gain an "exhibition" of forty guineas, which, with his allow

ance of £150 a year, would carry him through Oxford; at Manchester, De Quincey's liver becomes torpid through lack of exercise and unwise drugging; he becomes wretched and begs his guardians to remove him, but they refuse; he borrows ten guineas from Lady Carberry (then visiting at Manchester) and runs away in July, 1802; he walks to Chester, meets an uncle, and is permitted to proceed to Wales, with an allowance of a guinea a week; he wanders among the Welsh mountains, learns German, and partly makes his living by writing letters for the peasantry; feeling the need of books and educated companions, he goes to London, and tries in vain to secure a loan of £200 with which to support himself till attaining his majority; he is put off by money-lenders, is reduced almost to starvation, sleeps in a deserted house in Soho with a neglected child for his companion, and wanders about London during the day; at one time he is saved from a fainting-fit by the generosity of an outcast woman, immortalized in his autobiography under the name of "Ann"; eventually he becomes reconciled with his friends, and enters Worcester College, Oxford, with an allowance of £100 a year; he is quiet and studious at Oxford, and distinguishes himself in Latin, but he never takes a degree, partly because he despised the examination-system and partly out of diffidence as to oral tests (he insisted on answering questions about Greek in Greek); while at Oxford he suffers from a violent toothache, and, at the advice of student friends, takes laudanum for relief, thus beginning his use of opium; in 1803 he had begun a correspondence with Wordsworth, whom he greatly admired; he meets Coleridge at Nether Stowey in 1807, accompanies Coleridge's family to Grasmere, where he meets Wordsworth and Southey, and, on returning, aids Coleridge by lending him, anonymously, through Cottle, the bookseller, 300; De Quincey is again at Oxford early in 1808; he goes thence to London, where he meets Davy, Lamb, and others, and studies law in a desultory way at the Middle Temple; he visits