pulses of a heated enthusiasm ; in short, he gave a practical demonstration to the truth, that genuine religion is quiet and unobtrusive, delighting not in the corners of the streets, nor in the vain parade of what is called evangelism, but in humble, and sincere, and ardent aspirations to the throne of heaven,-in doing good as there is opportunity,-in forgetting not to communicate, knowing that with such sacrifices God is well pleased. Nor was he actuated by that spurious liberality which has unfortunately gained an ephemeral popularity with the zealots of the present day. While he was conscientiously attached to the communion of which he was a member, and the church of which he was a licentiate, his attachment was the result of an honest conviction; and well could he assign a reason for the hope that was in him. But it was not a blind admiration of presbyterian or secession principles; it was not because it was the church of his fathers; nor was he slow to admit the excellencies of other communions, nor behind in his homage to the talent which they contained. His mind, in a word, was cast in too noble a mould to be impressed by the petty dis

tinctions and animosities of sectarian prejudice; and his splendid poem can bear testimony to the principles which actuated him in public and private life. As a scholar, a metaphysician, a philosopher, and a poet, he looked around him with the eye of an attentive observer, and his integrity rose superior to the hollow and superficial affectation of a spurious liberality.

On Mr. Pollok's great work, "The Course of Time," it would be out of place here to comment; in truth, it requires no comment of ours. It was the ardent labour of years; and it is impossible to doubt for a moment, that he fell a victim to intense study. The reception it has met with from the public, four successive editions having been called for in little more than twelve months, is a sufficient testimony to the talents and reputation of its lamented author. And his name is now recorded among the list of those illustrious Scotsmen, who have done honor to their country; who, from obscurity, have secured for themselves an unfading reputation; and who will be remembered by distant generations with enthusiasm and admiration.

The other works of Mr. Pollok, which ap peared previous to the Course of Time, are of a different description, and were published anonymously. The first, "Helen of the Glen," is a beautiful little narrative, intended by its author as a "Tale for Youth." The two tales entitled, "Ralph Gemmell," and the "Persecuted Family," to each of which this Memoir of their Author is prefixed, are better specimens of his genius. "Ralph Gemmell," though properly a tale of the imagination, is nevertheless founded on facts, which yet retain a powerful influence on the minds of the Scottish people. They contain a description of part of that eventful period of our national history, the seventeenth century, when many of the inhabitants of this country were in arms for the protection of their liberties against the encroachments of the government, before the memorable era of the Revolution of 1688. To such as Mr. Pollok, a native of a district in which many of those cruelties were practised, which are so disgraceful to the memories of the perpetrators, and where the names of the rustic

patriots are handed down in traditionary story, —and, above all, where many of the scenes of murder and of bloodshed are still pointed out with enthusiasm and sympathy,-to a mind such as his, these associations must have had peculiar interest, as connected with those heroic men whose memories are cherished with pious care. And, while there may be many opinions as to the sufferings of the presbyterians of that period,-while it is undeniable that their zeal was frequently unjustifiable, being a "zeal without knowledge," it is also undeniable that their sufferings were great, and so much the more interesting, because they suffered "for conscience sake." The stern and unbending firmness of their character awakens our admiration; and we are compelled to do homage to their patriotism, even while we are alive to their imprudences. Men who could be induced to to forego the happiness of the domestic circle; who could separate themselves from all they loved on earth, and by whom they were beloved; who could retire to the dens, and caves, and glens of their wild and barren mountains,

enduring numberless privations and sufferings, submitting to be hunted "as partridges on the mountains," every moment exposed to death, and knowing well the fate that awaited them if surprised by their military rulers ;-those men were surely actuated by no mean and selfish motives, disdaining, as they did, the inglorious ease of a day, when that which they conceived to be a compromise of their conscience was most barbarously required. And it must be admitted, that they fought not for themselves, but for posterity; and it was not their wish, that their triumph should be evanescent, but that future generations should also feel their animating virtue. Scotland truly owes them much, which can never be repaid; and although they excited the wanderings of that spirit, which runs to a fearful extreme, yet with their blood they purchased that freedom which their descendants now enjoy,-which happily is ingrafted into the very foundations of the monarchy, and which hath brought peace and happiness in all our borders.

These tales, therefore, should be read by all.