drank the health of Queen Victoria. We suspect that the spirit-merchant was originally giving them what they, could they venture to speak their minds out, would have preferred to the wine which the committee made him substitute. However, they were made happy. "We have been all queens to-day," said one poor soul, in the joy of her heart.

Whoever came to Sheffield or the neighbourhood, would see Montgomery, the one poet of the place; and in some cases the pilgrims deviated very considerably from their proper route to visit him. Several Americans called; among others, Dr. Sparrow, vice-president of Kenyon College, United States. Dr. Sparrow wasan Episcopal clergyman amidst a widely-spread population in the western wilderness.' He was anxious to know the moral state of the population of Sheffield, and was told it was rather better than in other equally large towns; that there were as many schools there, that the influx of strangers was less, and the resident clergy of all classes laborious, exemplary, and influential. Montgomery remarked that profane swearing had almost entirely ceased. Sparrow inquired whether females were much employed in the manufactories, and said, "I have been shown through an extensive establishment, in which articles plated with silver are made, and though I saw a woman in the warehouse, I did not notice any in the shops." Montgomery explained that they were employed in rooms, apart from the men. "Good wages are given. This leads to early marriages; yet, except in seasons when work is unusually scarce, a family can be supported comfortably." In the course of the conversation, Dr. Sparrow observed that even the smallest houses had an air of comfort and cleanliness about them, and was told that in Sheffield almost every family lived in a separate house. "Tenemented" buildings were almost unknown there. In a population of 100,000, not one decent or industrious family lived in a cellar or a garret, "a circumstance directly favourable to the health and comfort and indirectly to the morals of the labouring population." "How different," it was added, "is the domestic condition of thousands in Liverpool, Manchester, and

elsewhere." Poor Ireland came in for its share of notice from the American

observer. What else he saw in his travels there he'does not record, but one observable improvement struck his eye. "I was," he says, "struck with the number of persons who had their shoes blacked, in a class whom I would not formerly suspect to have paid attention to such matters." He also said "that there were more cabins white-washed inside." Montgomery derived proofs of the improvement of the Irish from some doubtful statistics; and they passed from pigs and potatoes to poetry. Of Wordsworth's poetry the American preferred to all other poems "The Idiot Boy." Coleridge somewhere mentions, the poems of Wordsworth which seem to have least value, he has often known preferred by men of remarkable talent to those which would seem to have higher claims. We think it was Fox who preferred "Goody Blake and Harry Gill" to anything else in the Lyrical Ballads. In the course of conversation, speaking of the poetry of Coleridge and Wordsworth, Montgomery said, "It is like the difference between electricity and galvanismthe former flashing at rapid intervals with the utmost intensity of effect; the other, not less powerful, but rather continuous than sudden in its wonderful influence."

Montgomery's love of flowers is often shown through his poetry. At one time, when he saw a knot of crocuses opening their golden petals in the sun, he said they reminded him of the passage in which Milton describes the stars as deriving their light from that great luminary :---

Towards his all-cheering lamp turn, or åre turned

By his magnetic beam, that gently warms
The universe, and to each inward part,
With gentle penetration, though unseen,
Shouts invisible virtue.

And he adverted to the surprise and delight with which he first saw acres of ground covered with a blue crocus in early spring along the Trent side at Nottingham. At another time his niece tells us, "when he was at Ockbrook, in spring or summer, he frequently took long rambles alone, when he never failed to bring me a large bouquet of wild flowers, and, whenever he could find them, long wreaths of

black bryony, of which he knew I was particularly fond. But I especially noticed how he discovered the beautiful in everything, however common.'

In one of Montgomery's letters we find a passage from which we must make room for a sentence. "I am a Scotchman, because I was born at Irvine in Ayrshire; I ought to have been an Irishman, because both my parents were such; and I pass for an Englishman, because I was caught If I did not love freyoung. land fervently, I should be a most unnatural and ungrateful wretch: every drop of blood in my veins was derived from Irish fountains. I recollect something of schools in that country-I will not say how far back in the last century-having been an humble pupil in one which was kept by Neddy M'Kaffery, formerly a Roman Catholic priest, but who be came a good Moravian brother, and lived and died in a purer faith than he had once possessed."

Montgomery was frequently sent books by strangers. This partly perhaps from his known connection with periodical literature; but, no doubt, in a great degree from the good nature with which he was disposed to treat all his poetical brethren. Several letters of his are preserved referring to the books thus sent him. Among others is one to the publisher of Eailey's Festus-a work in which Montgomery saw great evidence of poetical genius; but he falls out with the poem on account of its subject. "The author of this strange production has hazarded utter ruin and reprobation in the very choice of his subject the old story of the Devil and Dr. Faustus -not because the story is old and monstrous, but because it has already been exalted to the highest heaven of invention,' by the greatest of German poets, and of European poets too, in the esteem of some critics-but not in mine, though that may be no disparagement to him." He proceeds to speak of Goethe's poem as written in a grotesque, preternatural, yet frequently tender and beautiful style of verse, and thinks the young poet was rash in provoking comparison with the old giant of Weimar. "Had Goethe's 'Faust' not been written, this would have been a most unaccountably original effort of invention indeed."

Montgomery repeated his lectures on poetry at Bristol and at Bath; and on one occasion mentioned that he had received five hundred pounds for delivering them at different places. The engagement he in general made was a fixed sum-given him by some literary institution for the course of lectures they repaying themselves by the sale of tickets. The lecturer was often so successful in bringing an audience together, that the stipulated reward was increased by the persons undertaking the management of the matter. At times the lecturer was paid by such casual sum as the sale of the tickets produced.

We cannot but feel some surprise at Montgomery's having been able to keep terms at the same time with the several religious sects with which he was in a kind of communion, and tỏ pursue his own studies in poetry. We have him on one occasion catechised on the subject of the theatre. It was mentioned in conversation (1841) that till of late years the clergy of Sheffield used regularly to attend the theatre. "I have," said Montgomery, seen them there occasionally." "Then you used to go there?" Many years ago I

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went in sometimes for an hour. I had a free ticket: it was when Macready performed on the Sheffield stage; but I never thought much of any other actor, except Mrs. Siddons." Holland, one of Montgomery's biographers, was present, and said, "I saw a respectable tradesman yesterday, who told me that he, when young, with other amateurs, played King John on the Sheffield stage for the benefit of the widows of the men slain at the battle of the Nile; that the character whom he personated requiring a clerical habit, he went to Parson

and borrowed his gown, which he actually wore on the stage." It would seem that the part was well acted, for, on returning the gown, the clergyman told the actor that he was glad to learn that his gown had not been disgraced." This would certainly strike anyone at present as so indecorous as to be scarcely credible.

Time had been playing his usual tricks with Montgomery: he was now in his seventieth year.

Full seventy years he now had seen, But scarce seven years of rest.

There is a thought which Chalmers was fond of dwelling on, that seventy years being assumed as the age of man, the last ten should be, as it were, a Sabbath-of rest from secular cares-of more peculiar devotion to religion. It can seldom be that such rest can be obtained from care; and by man at whatever age religion can scarcely be exercised, except in some definite sphere of action, and, as it would be called, secular occupation. The distinction on which Chalmers' thought rests is one not easily made; and yet we feel that there is in the thought such truth and beauty, that we are sorry Chalmers did not state it with more distinctness, and support it by such illustrations as would remove the difficulty which many will find in giving it full assent. In Montgomery's case, if rest be regarded as the leading thought in Chalmers' imagined sabbath, no hour or day of rest was given,-if holiness, or consecration to religious purposes, there was no outward exhibition of change, nor could there well have been, though we believe that as life advanced his heart was more and more in the world to which he was approaching: yet he seems to us to have been overworked. The penny-postage has been called a boon, we think it is,-yet to Montgomery it was a grievance. Everybody consulted him about everything. Religious societies without endyoung men anxious to be ordained— well-informed, but deficient, not in the requisite information, but in what was no less requisite-decent clothes. Poor fellow he wished to answer all these demands, but was physically unable.

The religious societies are to a great extent sustained by what are called voluntary contributions. A painful and humiliating duty is often imposed on the best and most honourable men connected with these societies, who are sent out as sturdy beggars, to get what they can, and as they can, from whoever will give it. Montgomery was himself a man so thoroughly generous, that he, perhaps, felt less acutely than he otherwise would the cruel task; and the society with which he was more peculiarly connected had been engaged in works of such undeniable utility, as to check any misgivings he might

have in soliciting aid for it. The Moravians wanted money for their missions, and Montgomery reluctantly visited Scotland with Mr Latrobe, for the purpose of assisting them to procure it. It was Montgomery's only visit to Scotland, which he had left full sixty-five years before; and in the desire to do him honour, it would seem as if the purpose for which he came was forgotten. Wherever he appeared he was received with enthusiastic welcomes. He spoke admirably, and the speeches have the advantage of being well reported. He had to meet, or, at all events, did meet, some arguments that, a few years before, had been urged against missions, on the ground that Christianity should not be taught till a certain advance was made in civilization. "Our brethren,” said he,

go with the Gospel in their hands, and the power of the Gospel in their hearts. They do not begin with the young or the middle-aged, or with those who are verging towards the close of life. They preach to old and young the simple testimony which converted the first Greenlander, and which, in every place where the brethren have carried the Gospel, has been the means of conversion. They simply, fervently, and faithfully preach Christ crucified, which proves itself to be the power of God and the wisdom of God unto salvation."

Wherever Montgomery went, there were public breakfasts for him. Wherever men spoke at all, there were those who delighted to claim another Ayrshire poet for Scotland. These was one voice, however, which he had expected to hear, but that voice was unheard. When he returned home after his triumphs, one of the first questions his old friend Miss Gales asked was, Well, but did you see Bob?" It was thus she irreverently designated the poet Robert Montgomery." Yes! I went to his church and heard him preach." "Is that all? Did he neither introduce himself to you, nor attend any of your meetings?"" He did not." "Well; but did you not hear anything about him? Did not the ladies admire his person and address ?"

imagine Robert not very anxious to meet James, whether he was a party to his publisher's advertisements or not; though it seems strange that, after their intercourse by letter, he should not have felt compelled to call upon him.

Soon after his return, the sudden death of Mr. Bennett occurred; and in the latter volumes of this work, we have necessarily the mention of old friends falling one by one. On Bennett's death Montgomery wrote a few lines of great beauty.

Our poet's studies led him occasionally to the earlier poets. We say his studies rather than his tastes, as we think there is everywhere distinct proof that a higher degree of pleasure was received by him, as by most of us, when he had not to encounter the formal peculiarities of an obsolete dialect. In his compilation, called "The Christian Poet," he had given extracts from Vaughan, a writer whose works are scarcely known except to archeologiststhough the specimens selected by Montgomery give proof of unusual delicacy of perception, and some power of language. Of these we remember in particular the Rainbow:

entranced in Beatific Vision. Eter nity was never made so visible before in human language: it is opened even to the eye of flesh and blood."

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"The Mind," a poem of Charles Swain's, which Montgomery admired, as he well might, led him to speak of the Spencerian stanza. He regarded Campbell, as compared with Thomson and Byron, as not successful. Among many exquisite stanzas the 'labour in vain' of many others is very apparent." In the year 1842, his principal publication was an essay on the poetry of Milton, delivered first as a lecture at Sheffield, and printed with an edition, by Collins, of Paradise Lost. The lecture was indistinctly heard, and the feeling of the audience was that the poet's health was breaking down. He was himself conscious of this, and in a letter written a short time after, he speaks of the decline of "bodily strength and mental energy," and particularly adverts to his " failing memory." This letter was in reply to an urgent invitation to visit Ireland, as one of a deputation seeking aid for the Moravian Missions. He was, however, persuaded to go, and on the 12th of October he crossed the channel-his health seeming to improve. On the 15th he appeared at a breakfast party where about sixty gentlemen met for the purpose of paying respect to him and Mr. Latrobe, the other member of the deputation. Dr. Anster took the chair, and the meeting was addressed by the present bishops of Cork and Meath, by Dr. Urwick, and Mr. Parker of Rathmines. Latrobe stated the objects of the deputation, and mentioned that his own ancestors for the last three generations were Irish-that the family had found a refuge in Dublin after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Montgomery, however, was the hero of the day; he too, was able to tell his audience that he was or ought to have been Irish-his parents were Irish, and in Ireland part of his early childhood was past. From Dublin, the deputation proceeded to Belfast, where Montgomery was, if possible, more enthusiastically received. There Dr. Hanna, the son-in-law and biographer of Chalmers, presided at a public breakfast, and there, as in Dublin, while he dwelt on the subject of the Moravian Missions, he

recounted the circumstances of his own life. One of his audience, Mr. M'Comb, was called upon by the chairman to express the feelings of the assembly at the visit of their guests; and instead of a speech, he read some very pleasing verses suggested by the occasion. From Belfast, Montgomery proceeded to the Moravian settlement at Gracehill, and returned within a day or two to Belfast, to speak at meetings convened for the purposes of his mission there. On the 1st of November he returned to Sheffield in improved health. Mr. Parker, whose guest he was while in the neighbourhood of Dublin, did more than "welcome the coming speed the parting guest." He remembered the age of his friend, and judiciously sent a person over with him, to take care of him in the voyage from Kingstown to Liverpool.

In December we have a letter from him to Mr. Everitt. Everitt, our readers are aware, has supplied a good deal of the materials of this biography of Montgomery. Biography, it would seem, is pretty much his line. He had sent Montgomery presents of two books, "Lives" of two Wesleyan Ministers-Daniel Isaac, and William Dawson. He could not have given his friend anything he was likely to value more. The society of a few preachers, or of the humblest members of their congregations, Montgomery valued more than any other which could be brought together; and we have him here, busy in discussing the characters of men who, with the world at large," had no character at all." Isaac, he said, dealt out matter in minute morsels, crumb by crumb, like a child feeding chickens, and watching them scramble for each grain as it fell among them. "I never," he added, "knew a speaker make so little go so great a way." This class of books must have a very considerable sale. Everitt told Montgomery that by the sale of two editions of the life of Dawson, he got between three and four hundred pounds for Dawson's family.

Montgomery was a good practical man of business; he looked directly at the object which was brought at any time before his attention, and this was the secret of his power with all classes-for he was certainly the man most influencing opinion in the

district where he dwelt. Remarkable evidence of this was given in the commencement of the next year to which these annals bring us. A great bank failed in Sheffield; the losses were great, and the fear of loss created much anxiety to secure as far as possible the stability of the other Sheffield banks. At the public meetings for this purpose, Montgomery was the person selected to bring the facts of the case before the public mind. Shrewd men of business were not likely to have selected any other than one whom they knew well to be among the best men, if not the very best man, for their purpose. At the very same time that he was thus engaged, we find him occupied in arranging plans for the education of young per sons, and himself carrying out the details by giving instruction to a class.

Southey's death now occurred, and gave rise to some speculation as to the Laureateship. Montgomery thought Milman not unlikely to be chosen, or perhaps Macaulay. Montgomery's friends thought of him. In speaking of what the public ought to expect from the Laureate, Mont gomery suggested "a series of grand national odes on national subjects; they should combine with a strong historical interest all the charms of the old ballad poetry."

Speaking of the disruption of the Church of Scotland, Montgomery said, that "it would do good. The seceders were wrong in law, but they were right in principle; and to him it was very affecting to see some of the best and greatest of his countrymen-men like Chalmers, and Gordon, and Candlish-making such noble personal sacrifices for religious freedom."

In the autumn of 1843, he went for a few weeks to Buxton, and wrote while there some verses-as pleasing at least as his smaller poems generally are. From Buxton he went to Ockbrook, to visit the family of his brother Ignatius. He finds there such changes going on, or contempla ted, as, while they form to the individuals concerned the main business and the interest of life, refuse to be the subject of any distinct record. His brother's widow and daughter were meditating a change of resi dence-contemplating, too, the contingencies of death and matrimony.