ed down his cheeks;
he said no more, but waved his hand to his class, who stood up as he
concluded and hurried out of the lecture-room."

The joys of Elleray were destined to be fleeting. The fortune of its
master was melted away by the mismanagement of others, leaving him but
a slender pittance. He bore his loss like a man, sorrowing, but not
repining. The estate was given up, and a new home found with his mother,
in Edinburgh. This was in 1815. Four years later, fortune had smiled on
his cheerful labors, and given him the wherewithal to provide a home
of his own for his wife and little ones,--the well-known house in Anne
Street, which was for so many years the abode of domestic joys, the
shrine of literature, the centre of friendship and hospitality. On his
arrival at Edinburgh, Wilson, already famous, though young, finding fame
an unsubstantial portion for a man with a family, looked about him for
something more tangible, and determined to get his livelihood by the
law. Kit North a lawyer, eating bread earned by legal sweat! The very
idea seems comical enough. Yet it cannot be doubted, that, with his
intellect, energy, eloquence, and capacity for work, he would, when
driven to concentration and persistence by the spurs of necessity, duty,
and affection, have run his race manfully, and reached the goal with the
very foremost. Happily the question is an open one, for his affairs took
another turn, which may have given Scotland one legal lord the less. For
some time the briefless barrister diligently frequented the Edinburgh
courts, on the lookout for business. If he had few cases, he had
excellent company in another "limb," of his own kidney, John Gibson
Lockhart. These two roystering pundits, having little to do, filled up
their moments mainly with much fun, keeping their faculties on the
alert for whatever might turn up. The thing that soon turned up was
"Blackwood."

The "Edinburgh Review"--the first in the field of the modern
politico-literary periodicals--commenced its career in 1802, under the
leadership of Brougham, Sydney Smith, Jeffrey, and Horner, all stanch
Whigs. At first, literature had the second place, while politics
occupied the chief seat; though in later years their relative positions
have been reversed. Then, the one great thing in view was to have an
able party-organ, the fearless champion of a certain policy in matters
of State. The Whigs must be glorified, and the Tories put down, at all
events,