ow appears that he was a gentle and
rather timid man, keenly alive to the sympathies of friends and
neighbours--indeed, of _womanish_ character altogether. As is well
known, his time arrived at last, when, on the coming of the Whigs into
power in 1830, he was raised to the dignified situation of Lord
Advocate for Scotland, and was called upon to take the lead,
officially, in making those political changes which he had all along
advocated. It is curious, however, and somewhat startling, to learn
how little gratification he professed to feel in what appeared so
great a triumph. While his rivals looked with envy on his exaltation,
and mobs deemed it little enough that he should be entirely at their
beck in requital for the support they gave him, Mr Jeffrey was sighing
for the quiet of private life, groaning at his banishment from a happy
country-home, and not a little disturbed by the troubled aspect of
public affairs. Mr Macaulay has somewhere remarked on the general
mistake as to the 'sweets of office.' We are assured by Lord Cockburn,
that Jeffrey would have avoided the advocateship if he could. He
accepted it only from a feeling of duty to his party. He writes to a
female relation of the 'good reason I have for being sincerely sick
and sorry at an elevation for which so many people are envying, and
thinking me the luckiest and most elevated of mortals for having
attained.' And this subject is still further illustrated by an account
he gives of the conduct of honest Lord Althorpe during the short
interval in May 1832, when the Whigs were _out_. 'Lord Althorpe,' he
says, 'has gone through all this with his characteristic cheerfulness
and courage. The day after the resignation, he spent in a great
sale-garden, choosing and buying flowers, and came home with five
great packages in his carriage, devoting the evening to studying where
they should be planted in his garden at Althorpe, and writing
directions and drawing plans for their arrangement. And when they came
to summon him to a council on the Duke's giving in, he was found in a
closet with a groom, busy oiling the locks of his fowlingpieces, and
lamenting the decay into which they had fallen during his ministry.'

In some respects, the book will create surprise, particularly as to
the private life and character of the great Aristarch. While the
_Edinburgh Review_ was in progress under the care of Mr Jeffrey, it
was a most unrelenting tribunal for literary culprits, as