but that some remains of it are amalgamated with its successor, producing a mass of confusion, and requiring experience and reflection to regulate, subdue, and govern the whole. A youth whose intellect is thus tossed in a whirlpool of conflicting speculations, bears a striking resemblance to a goodly ship newly launched, which reels from side to side, the sport of every undulation of the waters, but when steadied by ballast, becomes at once a most useful and beautiful object.

About this time young White's religious feelings were strongly affected by the sudden conversion of his friend, Mr. Almond, in consequence of attending a sick bed, whose opinions. were previously as loose as his own. To avoid thè raillery with which he expected White would assail him when he learnt the change in his sentiments, Almond avoided his society; and when he learnt the cause, he replied to his friend's offer to defend his opinions, if he would allow the divine originality of the Bible, by exclaiming, "Good God! you surely regard me in a worse light than I deserve." The discussion which followed, and the perusal of Scott's "Force of Truth," which Almond placed in his hands, had no better effect than that of exciting his attention seriously to the subject. An affecting incident soon afterwards showed how deeply he was then influenced by religious considerations. On the evening before Mr. Almond left Nottingham for Cambridge, he was requested by White to accompany him to his

apartment. The moment they entered Henry burst into tears, declaring that his anguish of mind was insupportable, and he entreated Almond to kneel and pray for him. Their tears and supplications were cordially mingled, and when they were about to separate, White said, "What must I do? You are the only friend to whom I can apply in this agonizing state, and you are about to leave me. My literary associates are all inclined to deism. I have no one with whom I can communicate."

It is instructive to learn to what circumstance such a person as Kirke White was indebted for the knowledge "which causes not to err." This information occurs in a letter from him to a Mr. Booth, in August 1801; and it also fixes the date of that happy change which influenced every thought and every action of his future life, which gave the energy of virtue to his exertions, soothed the asperities of a temper naturally impetuous and irritable, and enabled him, at a period when manhood is full of hope and promise, to view the approaches of death with the calmness of a philosopher, and the resignation of a saint.

After thanking Mr. Booth for the present of Jones's work on the Trinity, he thus describes his religious impressions previous to its perusal, and the effect which it produced on his sentiments:

Religious polemics, indeed, have seldom formed a part of my studies; though whenever I happened accidentally to turn my thoughts to the

subject of the Protestant doctrine of the Godhead, and compared it with Arian and Socinian, many doubts interfered, and I even began to think that the more nicely the subject was investigated, the more perplexed it would appear, and was on the point of forming a resolution to go to heaven in my own way, without meddling or involving myself in the inextricable labyrinth of controversial dispute, when I received and perused this excellent treatise, which finally cleared up the mists which my ignorance had conjured around me, and clearly pointed out the real truth."

From this moment all the enthusiasm of his nature was kindled towards a new object. The ministry alone was deemed worthy of his ambition; and as if influenced by some mystical conviction, he devoted his thoughts to the sacred office with a zeal which justified a hope of the richest fruits. In a letter to his friend, Mr. Almond, in November 1803, he says,

"My dear friend, I cannot adequately express what I owe to you on the score of religion. I told Mr. Robinson you were the first instrument of my being brought to think deeply on religious subjects; and I feel more and more every day, that if it had not been for you, I might, most probably, have been now buried in apathy and unconcern. Though I am in a great measure blessed, I mean blessed with faith, now pretty steadfast, and heavy convictions, I am far from being happy. My sins have been of a dark hue,

and manifold: I have made Fame my God, and Ambition my shrine. I have placed all my hopes on the things of this world. I have knelt to Dagon; I have worshipped the evil creations of my own proud heart, and God had well nigh turned his countenance from me in wrath; perhaps one step further, and he might have shut me for ever from his rest. I now turn my eyes to Jesus, my saviour, my atonement, with hope and confidence he will not repulse the imploring penitent; his arms are open to all, they are open even to me; and in return for such a mercy, what can I do less than dedicate my whole life to his service? My thoughts would fain recur at intervals to my former delights; but I am now on my guard to restrain and keep them in. I know now where they ought to concentre, and with the blessing of God, they shall there all tend.

"My next publication of poems will be solely religious. I shall not destroy those of a different nature, which now lie before me; but they will, most probably, sleep in my desk, until, in the good time of my great Lord and Master, I shall receive my passport from this world of vanity. I am now bent on a higher errand than that of the attainment of poetical fame; poetry, in future, will be my relaxation, not my employment.Adieu to literary ambition! You do not aspire to be prime minister,' said Mr. Robinson; you covet a far higher character-to be the humblest among those who minister to their Maker.'"

To the arguments of his friends on the impolicy of quitting a profession to which he had served so much of his time, and on the obstacles which existed to the attainment of his wishes, he was impenetrable. His employers generously offered to cancel his articles as soon as he could show that his resources were likely to support him at the University. Friends arose in proportion as they became necessary, and more than one or two persons exerted themselves in furtherance of his views; but his principal reliance was on the sale of a little volume of poems, which, at the suggestion of Mr. Capel Lofft, he prepared for the press.

The history of an author's first book is interesting, and Kirke White's was attended with unusual incidents. A novice in literature always imagines that it is important his work should be dedicated to some person of rank, and the Countess of Derby was applied to, who declined, on the ground that she never accepted a compliment of that nature. He at length applied to the Duchess of Devonshire; and a letter, with the manuscript, was left at her house. The difficulty of obtaining access to her grace proved so great, that more than one letter to his brother was written on the subject, in which he indignantly says, "I am cured of patronage hunting; as for begging patronage, I am tired to the soul of it, and shall give it up." Permission was at length granted the book came out towards the end of