the form
of consumption. This lurking malady it was that made him wait, and dally
with his talent. He hit on the idea of translating some of Bossuet's
orations for a Scotch theological publisher. Alas! the publisher did not
anticipate a demand, among Scotch ministers, for the Eagle of Meaux.
Murray, in his innocence, was startled by the caution of the publisher,
who certainly would have been a heavy loser. 'I honestly believe that,
if Charles Dickens were now alive and unknown, and were to offer the MS.
of _Pickwick_ to an Edinburgh publisher, that sagacious old individual
would shake his prudent old head, and refuse (with the utmost politeness)
to publish it!' There is a good deal of difference between _Pickwick_
and a translation of old French sermons about Madame, and Conde, and
people of whom few modern readers ever heard.

Alone, in Edinburgh, Murray was saddened by the 'unregarding'
irresponsive faces of the people as they passed. In St. Andrews he
probably knew every face; even in Edinburgh (a visitor from London
thinks) there is a friendly look among the passers. Murray did not find
it so. He approached a newspaper office: 'he [the Editor whom he met]
was extremely frank, and told me that the tone of my article on--was
underbred, while the verses I had sent him had nothing in them. Very
pleasant for the feelings of a young author, was it not? . . .
Unfavourable criticism is an excellent tonic, but it should be a little
diluted . . . I must, however, do him the justice to say that he did me a
good turn by introducing me to ---, . . . who was kind and encouraging in
the extreme.'

Murray now called on the Editor of the _Scottish Leader_, the Gladstonian
organ, whom he found very courteous. He was asked to write some 'leader-
notes' as they are called, paragraphs which appear in the same columns as
the leading articles. These were published, to his astonishment, and he
was 'to be taken on at a salary of--a week.' Let us avoid pecuniary
chatter, and merely say that the sum, while he was on trial, was not
likely to tempt many young men into the career of journalism. Yet 'the
work will be very exacting, and almost preclude the possibility of my
doing anything else.' Now, as four leader notes, or, say, six, can be
written in an hour, it is difficult to see the necessity for this
fatigue. Probably there were many duties more exacting, and less
agreeable, than the turning out of epigrams. Indeed there w