PALEY.

Paley would employ himself in his Natural Theology, and then gather his peas for dinner, very likely gathering some hint for his work at the same time. He would converse with his classical neighbour, Mr. Yates, or he would reply to his invitation that he could not come, for that he was busy knitting. He would station himself at his garden wall, which overhung the river, and watch the progress of a cast-iron bridge in building, asking questions of the architect, and carefully examining every pin and screw with which it was put together. He would loiter along a river, with his angle-rod, musing upon what he supposed to pass in the mind of a pike when he bit, and when he refused to bite; or he would stand by the sea-side, and speculate upon what a young shrimp could mean by jumping in the sun.

With the handle of his stick in his mouth, he would move about his garden in a short hurried step, now stopping to contemplate a butterfly, a flower, or a snail, and now earnestly engaged in some new arrangement of his flower-pots.

He would take from his own table to his study the back-bone of a hare, or a fish's head; and he would pull out of his pocket, after a walk, a plant or stone to be made tributary to an argument. His manuscripts were as motley as his occupations; the workshop of a mind ever on the alert; evidences mixed up with memorandums for his will; an interesting discussion brought to an untimely end by the hiring of servants, the letting of fields, sending his boys to school, reproving the refractory members of an hospital; here a dedication, there one of his children's exercises—in another place a receipt for cheap soup. He would amuse his fire side by family anecdotes:—how one of his ancestors (and he was praised as a pattern of perseverance) separated two pounds of white and black pepper which had been accidentally mixed—patiens pulveris, he might truly have added; and how, when the Paley arms were wanted, recourse was had to a family tankard which was supposed to bear them, but which he always took a malicious pleasure in insisting had been bought at a sale—

—————Haec est

Vita solutorum miserâ ambitione gravique;

the life of a man far more happily employed than in the composition of political pamphlets, or in the nurture of political discontent. Nay, when his friend Mr. Carlyle is about going out with Lord Elgin to Constantinople, the very headquarters of despotism, we do not perceive, amongst the multitude of most characteristic hints and queries which Paley addresses to him, a single fling at the Turk, or a single hope expressed that the day was not very far distant when the Cossacks would be permitted to erect the standard of liberty in his capital.

I will do your visitation for you (Mr. Carlyle was chancellor of the diocese,) in case of your absence, with the greatest pleasure—it is neither a difficulty nor a favour.

Observanda—1. Compare every thing with English and Cumberland scenery: e.g., rivers with Eden, groves with Corby, mountains with Skiddaw; your sensations of buildings, streets, persons, &c. &c.; e.g., whether the Mufti be like Dr. ——, the Grand Seignior, Mr. ——.

2. Give us one day at Constantinople minutely from morning to night—what you do, see, eat, and hear.

3. Let us know what the common people have to dinner; get, if you can, a peasant's actual dinner and bottle; for instance, if you see a man working in the fields, call to him to bring the dinner he has with him, and describe it minutely.


4. The diversions of the common people; whether they seem to enjoy their amusements, and be happy, and sport, and laugh; farm-houses, or any thing answering to them, and of what kind; same of public-houses, roads.

5. Their shops; how you get your breeches mended, or things done for you, and how (i.e. well or ill done;) whether you see the tailor, converse with him, &c.

6. Get into the inside of a cottage; describe furniture, utensils, what you find actually doing.

All the stipulations I make with you for doing your visitation is, that you come over to Wearmouth soon after your return, for you will be very entertaining between truth and lying. I have a notion you will find books, but in great confusion as to catalogues, classing, &c.

7. Describe minutely how you pass one day on ship-board; learn to take and apply lunar, or other observations, and how the midshipmen, &c, do it.

8. What sort of fish you get, and how dressed. I should think your business would be to make yourself master of the middle Greek. My compliments to Bonaparte, if you meet with him, which I think is very likely. Pick up little articles of dress, tools, furniture, especially from low life—as an actual smock, &c.

9. What they talk about; company.

10. Describe your impression upon first seeing things; upon catching the first view of Constantinople; the novelties of the first day you pass there.

In all countries and climates, nations and languages, carry with you the best wishes of, dear Carlyle,

Your affectionate friend,

W. PALEY.

Quarterly Review.