with all the clearness and precision for which he was so remarkable. While he yet spoke, the moon shone brightly into the chamber. He gazed on it in rapt earnestness for a few moments; then, turning to those about him, he said- How often have I looked up to it with inquiring wonder to that period when I shall have the vast and privileged view of a hereafter, and all will be comprehension and pleasure!"" On the 28th of October, 1792, in his 68th year, John Smeaton was removed from the world, for which he had done so much.

WILSON THE ORNITHOLOGIST.

THE name of Alexander Wilson-"Scottish poet and American ornithologist "-is dear to every admirer of genius, to every one, indeed, who loves to think of talent and worth struggling with adverse circumstances, and, by dint of patience and perseverance, rising to honour and fame.

He was born in the Seedhills of Paisley on the 6th of July, 1766. His father (though formerly he had been a distiller on a limited scale) followed the occupation of a weaver, and at one time possessed looms and employed journeymen. In personal appearance he is said to have greatly resembled his son, whom he survived a few years.

The future poet and ornithologist was, it appears, intended by his parents for the church; but his mother, with whom the idea seems to have originated, suddenly died, and with her perished the young man's hopes of filling the position to which he had been taught to aspire. In his thirteenth year he was apprenticed to a weaver, an engagement which lasted three years, and which was faithfully fulfilled. For four years after this Wilson was employed as a journeyman weaver-sometimes in Paisley and sometimes in Lochwinnoch. It was during these years that he

was first visited by the muse, and some of his pieces gained no little repute in his native town.

In his twentieth year a new calling opened up to Wilson. William Duncan, his brother-in-law, with whom he was now employed, having deserted the weaving in order to follow out a mercantile speculation on the eastern coasts of Scotland, Wilson determined, though at an humble distance, to follow his example. He accordingly devoted himself to the wandering life of a pedlar or "chapman," an occupation then more frequently followed than at present, the contents of his wallet or "pack" consisting of a miscellaneous assortment of such articles of dress, bijouterie, &c., as were likely to be in request in the houses of the farmers or peasantry. A love of "rural sights and rural sounds," combined with a certain shrewd talent for the observation of character, which distinguished the poet, must have lent a peculiar charm to such an employment. The idea occurred to Wilson that he might advantageously add a volume of poems to the other attractions of his pack; and having got prospectuses printed, he set out in September, 1789, for Edinburgh—in order, as he says in his journal, "to make one bold push for the united interests of pack and poems." In his new character of pedlar-poet, he did not long remain in Edinburgh, but proceeded at once to the towns on the eastern coast. The journal which he kept during the excursion was

afterwards printed with his poems. It is cleverly written a kind of prose of a much higher order than his poetry-and contains some shrewd observations, with a few sketches of the more remarkable characters which fell in his way. In the course of his wanderings, he met in with "a schoolmaster, who seemed to be a son of Bacchus, learning, and snuff; for after several favourable observations on the specimen [of his poems], and an enormous draught of snuff, he declared he would most certainly take a copy. But remember,' says he, by Jupiter, we will offer up one half of its price at the shrine of Bacchus.'" In the the same town he encountered a brother of the rhyming craft, whom "he began to interrogate as to his knowledge of poetry, but found him entirely ignorant of everything save rhyme. Happening to ask him if he had ever read any of Pope or Milton's pieces, he told me he never had, for he did not understand one word of Latin. I showed him my proposals, asked him to subscribe, and said I knew the author. He read part of them with excessive laughter, declared that the author was certainly a learned fellow, and that he would cheerfully subscribe; but that his wife was such a person, that if she knew of him doing anything without her approbation, there would be no peace in the house for months to come. And, by the by,' says he, we are most dismally poor. I told him that poverty was the characteristic of a poet.

"You are right,' said he, 'and for that very reason I am proud of being poor.""

After much hard labour and many rebuffsthe poet meanwhile subsisting on the sales from his pack-he at length got a goodly few subscribers; and having retraced his steps to his native town, he engaged with a bookseller, and "rushed on publication." His next step was a second peregrination to deliver the copies which had been subscribed for. Here again the pack was called into requisition, to sustain him during the distribution of his "rhyming ware." The few opening sentences of his journal, descriptive of his setting out from Edinburgh, make up a very pleasing little picture, not unworthy of the hand which afterwards threw off the finished sketches in America. He says "Having furnished my budget with what necessary articles might be required, equipped with a short oaken plant, I yielded my shoulders to the load, and by daybreak left the confines of our ancient metropolis. The morning was mild, clear, and inviting. A gentle shower, which had fallen amid the stillness of night, besprinkled the fields and adjoining meadows, exposing them to the eye clad with brightest green, and glittering with unnumbered globes of dew. Nature seemed to smile on my intended expedition; I hailed the happy omen, and with a heart light as the lark that hovered over my head, I passed the foot of Salisbury Rocks, and, directing