in his grasp, and independent in arriving at his conclusions. . . . His strongest intellectual bent was in the line of metaphysical enquiry; when dealing with philosophical principles his grasp was always vigorous. Combined with his marked analytic faculty was a cognate disposition to study the workings of human character, a disposition in his case so strong that the habit of searching beneath the external act for the hidden motive amounted almost to an instinct. We are told that he habitually speculated on the character of all with whom he came in contact, a fact which accounts for the distinctive merits and distinctive defects of the volumes before us.DIMAN, J. L., 1879, Mozley's Essays, The Nation, vol. 28, p. 169.

Since the day, now nearly five and thirty years ago, when the Rev. J. H. Newman left the Church of England, there has not arisen within it any so solid and powerful theological teacher as James B. Mozley, the late Professor of Divinity in the University of Oxford. A teacher I call him, though it was by the pen, rather than by the living voice, that he taught his fellow-men. Looking back over the long interval that has elapsed since that great crisis, among the many able preachers and teachers in the Church of England, no one appears with a mind so massive and so profound as his. His voice, indeed, was seldom heard from the pulpit, or in any public place; he took little or no outward part in the movements of ecclesiastical affairs; yet from the retirement of his study he furnished his Church and his country with a body of thought larger and more substantive, he produced more work that will be a permanent possession, than any other contemporary teacher of the Church to which he belonged. SHAIRP, JOHN CAMPBELL, 1880, The Late Canon Mozley, Fraser's Magazine, vol. 101, p. 174.

One cannot read Mozley's writings without feeling some surprise that a man of such gifts did not exercise a greater influence during his lifetime. From 1871 until his death, he was Regius Professor of Divinity in Oxford,and his biographer tells that he possessed every qualification for the post except the faculty of popular teaching. But why should a man who was almost equally gifted with ratiocinative and imaginative powers have been destitute of the faculty of popular teaching? We can only

account for it on the supposition that he did not possess the power of awakening enthusiasm. He possessed himself, as his writings show, the power of being stirred to enthusiasm by high thoughts, but he may have wanted the power of taking his hearers into his sympathy. A certain intellectual hauteur seemed to have kept him apart from the mass of men, and prevented him either from leading a party, or gathering disciples around him. A reserved, distant tone is perceptible in all his writings. This is visible in his language, whether he is speaking of God, or his fellow-men. He wrote an essay on Luther, in which he shows an almost personal aversion to the reformer, and a strange want of appreciation of his greatness. But it was just what he most disliked in Luther that he himself most wanted. Had his religion and his humanity been of a somewhat less reserved and distant character, had he possessed a greater stock of homely sympathies, he would have assuredly gained a wider personal recognition while he was still living to enjoy it. The two large volumes of Essays, which were published after his death, raised his reputation as a writer and as a thinker, but in some respects they disappointed those who had been accustomed to regard him as a rare example of an impartial religious thinker. They contain passages of great beauty, and they show how versatile he was; but, in some of his historical estimates, he manifests a narrow-minded prejudice, an unfair animus, such as we expect in writers of the level of Dean Hook.-GIBB, JOHN, 1881, Theologians of the Day-Canon Mozley, The Catholic Presbyterian, vol. 5, p. 88.

Mozley treated hackneyed themes with the vigour and freshness which can only be attained by a genuine thinker; he is never a mere retailer of the commonplaces of others. . . . We can hardly turn over a page of what Mozley has written without meeting with some striking thought, and we are everywhere conscious of the perfect good faith and sincerity which animated him. But we cannot fail also to be reminded not unfrequently of the fact that he generally presented himself as an advocate, though a perfectly sincere advocate, and not as a judge or a philosopher. Hence he not uncommonly states questionable propositions as if they admitted of no question; and, in pushing on a vigorous front attack, he is not always aware that he has uncovered his

with it. I am afraid not very much! A strange, oriental, scriptural style; full of fervour, and crude gloomy fire-a kind of opium style. However, you must look a little, and say.-CARLYLE, THOMAS, 1845, Letter to Lockhart, Nov. 20; The Life and Letters of John Gibson Lockhart, ed. Lang, vol. II, p. 240.

With all due charity, and largest allowances for his peculiar temperament, we must aver that Mr. Gilfillan is the most flagrant example of the "episodical" that we ever happened upon. No leap is too magnificent for him. Had he power equal to his wish, he would swim the Hellespont, and, without taking breath, hurry up the loftiest of the Olympus, and then at a bound, clear half the countries of the Orient, and alight on the snows that gird the mountains of the moon: and this, for pastime merely, while making a promenade from the Tuileries to the Place de Vendome. When we took up his book, and traced him through the sketch of Jeffrey, we rather liked him; but after bearing with his "sophomorics" to the sketch of Coleridge, we lost all patience, and wrote him down an ass. Yes, poor Dogberry had not half done justice to himself had he been George Gilfillan. Not that this same writer has not a considerable share of a certain sort of genius, . . . yet so vain is he and "protrusive," that it requires a large degree of Christian charity to segregate his faults from his excellences, and give the latter their full weight in the balance of our judgment.-BACON, R. H., 1847, Gilfillan's Literary Portraits, American Review, vol. 5, p. 387.

I hear that you have had the misfortune to be publicly praised by that coxcomb of coxcombs, Gilfillan.-PATMORE, COVENTRY, 1850, Letter to William Allingham.

He is beyond all doubt, one of those "second-sighted" men, "who see a sight we cannot see, and hear a voice we cannot hear." ... We have read the book, which is introduced to us by a title so repulsive to our taste, with mingled emotions. There are some passages in it, and many single expressions, which convey vivid ideas, and present pleasing images. We concede to him fancy, imagination, and a very considerable acquaintance with sources of poetical imagery. But these are not the only qualifications that are needed, to write instructively on Hebrew Poetry.

We go to that garden for nutritious

vegetables and salutary fruits. But we are presented by Mr. Gilfillan with pretty nosegays and splendid boquets. We go looking for healthful nourishment, and we are told to lie down among the pinks and tulips and jessamines and roses, and that we shall, by so doing, be better satisfied than by any common-place affair of eating. . . . We say in all simplicity and earnestness, that we are sorry so noble a theme and so good a design should be so painfully marred by glaring conceits and accumulated prettinesses.-STUART, MOSES, 1851, Gilfillan's Bards of the Bible, North American Review, vol. 73, pp. 240, 241, 258.

Mr. Nichol of Edinburgh was by no means fortunate in his choice of an editor for a series of the English poets, when he selected this gentleman to preface every volume with "a critical dissertation." He is well known as a productive and very lively author, a sort of literary conjuror in the sober walks of criticism, who never appears without a blaze of fireworks about his head. He carries what is called fine writing to an excess which quite outdistances the usual range of sophomoric effort in that direction. Like Sir Hudibras,

"For rhetoric, he could not ope

His mouth, but out there flew a trope." He is a standing example of the evil of possessing too much fancy, too much sublimity, too much excitability, and too ready a command of the English and Scottish vocabularies. His metaphors are entirely out of proportion with the necessities and fitnesses of his subjects. There are quite too many of them to be genuine. We see the prettiness, and admire the sparkle, but think the display too extensive to be real.-DUYCKINCK, E. A., 1854, Edward Young, North American Review, vol. 79, p. 270.

He possesses one of the most dangerous of arts for any one who would achieve solid and lasting reputation, that of great verbal facility, approaching to conversational familiarity. He is sometimes happy in his metaphors and apt in his allusions, but is more likely to be extravagant in the one and grotesque in the other; reminding us forcibly of the bombast and egotism so generally observable in the prevailing style of second-rate American writers. Mr. Gilfillan is by no means devoid of talent; and it is well worth his while by a course of wholesome discipline of his natural abilities, to correct the errors of a

critical pen which sometimes displays more passion than judgment and more vigour of language than depth of thought. Whatever other charges Mr. Gilfillan's crities may bring against him, he certainly cannot be accused of indolence, as, in addition to his professional duties, he contributes to no less than five or six periodicals. It is no slight commendation-but one to which he may justly lay claim-that a high moral purpose, a kindly spirit, and a hearty appreciation of the good, the right, and the true, are prominent characteristics of his writings.-ALLIBONE, S. AUSTIN, 1854-58, A Critical Dictionary of English Literature vol. I, p. 670.

He has been a very voluminous writer, but has been more ambitious of quantity in his productions than of quality. A dangerous facility of expression, unrestrained by a severe taste, has led him too often into what certainly approaches bombast.HART, JOHN S., 1872, A Manual of English Literature, p. 602.

The industry of Mr. Gilfillan is a remark

able and honourable feature in his character; and his writings, though too often disfigured by rash judgments and a gaudy rhetorical style, have an honest warmth and glow of expression which attests the writer's sincerity, while they occasionally present striking and happy illustrations. From his very unequal pages, many felicitous images and metaphors might be selected.-CHAMBERS, ROBERT, 1876, Cyclopædia of English Literature, ed. Carruthers, p. 215.

Gilfillan's glowing papers, always eloquent while not undiscriminating, excited considerable attention in their contrast to the general tameness (occasionally flavoured by cynicism) of English criticism.-ESPINASSE, FRANCIS, 1893, Literary Recollections and Sketches, p. 373.

Last of all, "The National Burns," edited by the Rev. George Gilfillan is mainly notable for the Gilfillanism of its gifted Editor.HENLEY, WILLIAM ERNEST, AND HENDERSON, THOMAS F., 1896, ed. The Poetry of Robert Burns, vol. II, p. 290, note.

PERSONAL

The most charming way to see Dana was on his own coast, on the rocks, under a gray sky, as the small black figure moved slowly up and down the beach, with the face to the sea. . . . He sat beneath his portrait, the work of William M. Hunt, and as I cast my eyes at the portrait the thought came that this was an octogenarian, but as he drew me into conversation upon current literatures I could not but feel that I was talking with a man of my own age. To one who was specially intimate with him he recently said "I never remember I am old. I feel young." In fact, he never grew old. His beard grew to be silver gray, but he never used glasses, and even the print of the London Guardian was not too close for him to read by gas

light only a few days before his death. And so I found him the youngest old man I have ever met. His conversation was as fresh as salt-sea spray; it was racy; it sparkled. I never met a man who put more meaning into words. . . . His religious life, if less prominent than his literary life, was what was chief and best in him. He took the conservative side in the famous controversy in which his cousin, Dr. Channing, led the liberal side. His opinions were broad and strong; they were his own. He was not satisfied with the Calvinism of his day, and finally found his home in the Episcopal church, in which communion he henceforth lived and in which he died. was one of the original founders of the Church of the Advent, and as long as it

He

kept to its old position was warmly attached to it, and worshipped there to the last.-WARD, JULIUS H., 1879, Richard Henry Dana, Atlantic Monthly, vol. 43. pp. 522, 523, 524.

He was under the usual height, broadshouldered but slight, still holding himself tolerably erect, with sight and hearing unimpaired, his eloquent and expressive eyes undimmed, and his pale countenance and fine regular features presenting a mingled air of sadness and unmistakable refinement, combined with the sweet, high-born courtesy of the old school of gentlemen. His silvery hair, reaching to his shoulders, and his full, flowing beard and long mustache of the same color, assisted in making him in his tout ensemble one of the finest living pictures that I have ever seen of noble and venerable age. I stood in the presence of Richard Henry Dana, the patriarch of American. poets. Although over ninety years of age, he was still in the possession of a fair measure of health and strength, and in the enjoyment of a serene and sunny old age.WILSON, RICHARD GRANT, 1879, Richard Henry Dana, Scribner's Monthly, vol. 18, p. 106.

In the old churchyard of his native town,

And in the ancestral tomb beside the wall, We laid him in the sleep that comes to all, And left him to his rest and his renown. The snow was falling, as if Heaven dropped down

White flowers of Paradise to strew his pall;The dead around him seemed to wake, and call

His name, as worthy of so white a crown.

-LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH, 1880, The Burial of the Poet, Ultima Thule, p. 53.

THE BUCCANEER

1827

"The Buccaneer," is a story of supernatural agency, founded, as the author says. in his Preface, on a tradition relating to an island off the New England coast. It is a narrative of a murder committed by a piratical, hardhearted man, of whom the whole island stood in awe, and who at last comes to a strange and horrible end. .

The incidents are strongly conceived, and brought before the reader, with great distinctness of painting. It seems to us, however, that the rough brutality of the Buccaneer's character is sometimes brought out so broadly, as to have rather an unpleasing effect. Yet nothing, it seems to us, can be better in its way, than the passage in which

his remorse is described, after it had finally mastered and subdued his spirit.-BRYANT, WILLIAM CULLEN, 1828, Dana's Poems, North American Review, vol. 26, pp. 243, 244.

There is a boldness in the outline of this poem, and a strength of conception in the incidents, which bespeak genius of no common stamp. The elements of the work are of a description to put to a rigorous test the powers of the writer. The feelings engendered in the darkest recesses of the human heart, and the workings of the stronger and sterner passions of our nature, demand great boldness in the mind that would explore their mysteries, and superior skill in the hand that would subdue them to the purposes of poetry. The spirits of the air come not at the bidding of common mortals; it is only the potent wand of the true enchanter which can summon them from their abodes and command them to do his pleasures. Mr. Dana has approached this subject evidently with a correct appreciation of the daring nature of his attempt, and the execution of his task indicates a careful study of his materials. His subject is one, which in its main features, has been turned to frequent use in poetry, yet he has treated it in a manner peculiarly his own. . . . The most striking effects of the poem relate more to the manner, than the matter. There is an abruptness in the progress of the narrative, which sometimes appears like a want of connection in the incidents, as if the minor developments, here and there, yet remained to be supplied. The style is remarkable for its plainness and severity; it has no labored elevation or brilliancy, but is at the same time neat and expressive. The language is on the whole in good keeping with the subject. Its simplicity is well adapted to the representation of vehement passions, and is suited to the service and naked grandeur of those feelings which it is the object of the narrative to depict. Notwithstanding the deficiency of ornament in the style, the descriptions are in a high degree striking and picturesque. KETTELL, SAMUEL, 1829, Specimens of American Poetry, pp. 2, 3.

The characters in this poem are not elaborately drawn and filled out. A few bold touches, and a sketch of living power starts into being before the reader's eye. A word, an expression, a line, open deep glances into the inmost hiding-places of the soul, like a flash of lightning suddenly let in upon the recesses of some gloomy cavern. On these