ews
of ecclesiastical polity, Hugh Miller at once attained a first rank
among contemporary editors. Many persons who were unconcerned about the
Scottish Church question, or by whom his sentiments on that subject were
disapproved, could not withhold an expressed admiration of the singular
power with which his views were supported, and of the classic style in
which they were conveyed. For some years prior to undertaking the
editorship, he had devoted much of his spare time to the preparation of
a geological work; and he now, in the columns of his newspaper, in a
series of chapters, presented to the public that valuable contribution
to geological science, since so well known as his work on "The Old Red
Sandstone." To the scientific world, by opening up the fossil treasures
of a formation hitherto understood to be peculiarly destitute of organic
remains, this publication claimed an especial interest, which was
enhanced by the elegance of the diction. His subsequent publications
fully sustained his fame. A work on the physical and social aspects of
the sister kingdom, entitled "First Impressions of England and its
People," was followed by "The Footprints of the Creator," the latter
being a powerful reply to the work entitled "Vestiges of the Natural
History of Creation." In 1854 he published a most interesting narrative
of his early struggles and experiences, with the title, "My Schools and
Schoolmasters." "The Testimony of the Rocks," a work on which he
bestowed intense labour, and which may be regarded as his masterpiece,
was published in March 1857, about three months subsequent to his
demise; but all the sheets had undergone his final revision.

For some years his health had been declining; in early manhood he
suffered severely from a pulmonary affection, known as the "mason's
disease," and he never thoroughly recovered. A singular apprehension of
personal danger, inconsistent with the general manliness of his
character, induced him for many years never to go abroad without
fire-arms. He studied with pertinacious constancy, seldom enjoying the
salutary relaxations of society. He complained latterly that his sleep
was distracted by unpleasant dreams, while he was otherwise a prey to
painful delusions. The eye of affection discovered that the system had
been overtaxed; but eminent medical counsel deemed that cessation from
literary toil would produce an effectual cure. The case was much more
serious; a noble intellect was