than any in the expression of his disgust, and did
not hesitate to ex- press his belief—which was also that of the clubs, and of society in general—that Lord Brougham himself was the ooncoctor and author of the hoax. Mr. Black, who bad been familiar in his earlier days with the literary gossip of Edinburgh, remembered that, in 1825, John Gibson Lockhart had caused to be inserted, as a practical joke, in the Edinburgh Weekly Journal, with which he was at the time connected, a report of the death of his friend, John Wilson, the well. known ' Christopher North' of Biackwoodo Magazine. The report was accompanied by a highly eulogistic memoir and review of the Professor's literary character and genius. Mr. Black maintained that Lord Brougham had taken the idea of the mystification from his remembrance of this frolic of Lockhart's, and that he cloaked, in the excess of his morbid vanity, to know what good, if any, posterity would say of him."
This theory of Black's was not at all unreasonable. Lord Brougham would almost certainly remember the Wilson hoax, and there was in his nature a curious diablerie which might easily prompt him to imitate it on his own behalf.
If the Morning Chronicle had its humiliations, it had its triumphs as well. In 1852, its columns contained a couple of communications which excited an extraordinary sensation. In the year 1852, the great Duke of Wellington died, and Mr. Disraeli, being leader of the Conservative Party, which was then in power, had to announce his death to the House of Commons, and to follow the announcement with the usual oration. A-very eloquent oration it was, and it was fully reported and duly admired ; but, unfortunately, it found one reader with a very tenacious memory who was sure that not only the substance, but the very phraseology was familiar to him, and who, after a abort search, discovered that the great speech had been delivered by M. Thiele; over the grave of a certain Marshal Mettler, whose death had preceded that of the Duke of Wellington by eighteen years. This discovery was communicated to the editor of the Chronicle, who, glad of such an opportunity of denouncing the sin of literary theft and damaging the Tory Party at the same time, printed in double columns the French speech and the English speech which was neither more nor less than a transla- tion of it. Great was the delight of the Liberals, great the consternation of the Conservatives, and both delight and con- sternation were intensified when, three days later, the editor, doubtless reinspired by his correspondent with the tenacious memory, treated in similar fashion Mr. Disraeli's description of the character of Lord Cadureis in his novel, Venetia, and Macaulay's description of the character of Lord Byron, which had not then been reprinted from the Edinburgh Review, where it had appeared twelve years previously. In the second case, there was not even a change of language; the two passages, with the necessary alteration Of the proper names, were word for word identical ; and people thought, not unnaturally, that Mr. Disraeli's literary reputation had received a fatal blow. The accused committed his defence to a friend, and a curious defence it was. Mr. Disraeli, the world was informed, kept a common- place book in which he had transcribed the passages from Thiers and Macaulay, and coming across them again at a time when he had entirely forgotten the act of transcription, he used them, imagining them both to be his own. On this curious story Drt Mackay makes two remarks. The first is the very obvious one that this was "a very lame explanation ;" the second is the reverse of obvious, being that Disraeli's offence, "if offence it were, was condoned, and none but sour-minded professional critic* and habitual opponents of his policy thought any the worse of him." If this were so—which we do not for a moment believe— it is clear that Mr. Disraeli's sour-minded critics and habitual opponents were the only people who were just then possessed of a conscience.
With reminiscences of this kind, for the most part compara- tively trivial, but not deficient in a certain kind of small interest, these volumes are filled. The names of a good number of literary people are scattered up and down the pages, but we seem to learn little about any of them that is at once new and valuable. The reports of the conversations at the well-known literary breakfasts of Samuel Rogers are specially disap- pointing, all the more so because they seem to be really well done, Dr. Mackay's excellent memory having been aided by copious notes made while the talk of the notables was fresh in his mind. It is what we should call intelligent and cultivated chit-chat, but nothing more ; and this description will serve for the whole book. It is an agreeable circulating-library book, bat it has no claim to permanence.
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