the most remarkable and admirable men of his age. Small gray eyes, an aquiline nose, vigorous lips, a noble head, and the air of a plain hereditary gentleman, marked the outward man. The prominent qualities of his mind were, strong integrity and nervous sense. There never was a sounder understanding. Many men were more learned, many more cultivated, and some more able. But who
could match him in sagacity and mental force? The opinions of Sir Harry Moncrieff might at any time have been adopted with perfect safety, without knowing more about them than that they were his. And he was so experienced in the conduct of affairs, that he had acquired a power of forming his views with what seemed to be instinctive acuteness, and with a decisiveness which raised
them above being slightly questioned. Nor was it the unerring judgment alone that the public admired. It venerated the honourable heart still more. A thorough gentleman in his feelings, and immoveably honest in his principles, his
whole character was elevated into moral majesty. He was sometimes described as overbearing. And in one sense, to the amusement of his friends, perhaps, he was so. Consulted by every body, and of course provoked by many, and with very undisciplined followers to lead, his superiority gave him the usual confidence of an oracle; and this operating on a little natural dogmatism, made him sometimes seem positive, and even hard: an impression strengthened by his manner. With a peremptory conclusiveness, a shrill defying voice, and a firm concentrated air, he appeared far more absolute than he really was, for he was ever candid and reasonable. But his real gentleness was often not seen; for if his first clear exposition did not convince, he was not unapt to take up a short disdainful refutation; which, however entertaining to the spectator, was not always comfortable to the adversary. But all this was mere manner. His opinions were uniformly liberal and charitable, and, when not under the actual excitement of indignation at wickedness or dangerous folly, his feelings were mild and benignant; and he liberalized his mind by that respectable intercourse with society which improves the good clergyman, and the rational man of the world. I was once walking with him in Queen Street, within the last three years of his life. A person approached who had long been an illiberal opponent of his, and for whom I understood that he had no great regard. I expected them to pass without recognition on either side. But instead of this, Sir Harry, apparently to the man's own surprise, stopped, and took him by the hand, and spoke fondly to him. When they separated, I said to Sir Harry that I thought he had not liked that person 'Oh! no; he's a foolish, intemperate creature. But to tell you the truth, I dislike a man fewer every day that I live now.'" Lord Cockburn adds that Sir Harrys "great instrument of usefulness was his public speaking;" that he often rose in the pulpit into "great views and powerful declamation;" was "the noblest deliverer of prayers at striking funerals;" and in debate "a fearful man to graple with;"[1] that "his writing, though respectable, was feeble;" and that "had he not preferred his church to every other object, there was no public honour to which he might not have fought his way," as counsel, judge, head of public department, or parliamentary leader.
WILKE, William D D , the Scottish Homer," as he has been called, from the circums'tance of his having been the author of a poem in the style of the Epigoniad," was born at Echlin, in the parish of Dalmeny, on the 5th of October, 1721. His father was a farmer,
- ↑ There was really great justice (observers Lord Cockburn) in the remark of a little old north country minister, who, proud both of himself as a member, and of the reverend baronet who was predominating in the Assembly, said to his neighbour, "Preserve me, Sir! hoo that man Sir Harry does go on! He puts me in mind of Jupiter among the lesser gods."
