One of his strongest natural tendencies, which had considerable influence in the creations of his fancy, was a love of the supernatural. Nothing contented him till he had traced it up to that subtle point where spiritual relations begin. "Why should such a thing affect us thus?" was the question which he delighted to ask himself. To his mind, as indeed to all thoughtful ones, the mysterious was the element into which all the phenomena of life resolved themselves. And there he took his stand, watching before the veil, if perchance some hand from within would lift its folds. The mutual relations of mind and matter, the secret sympathies of spirit, and the extent of its independence of sense, were chosen topics of thought. The enlarged views of these subjects which modern science is opening before us, at once indicating the direction of future inquiry, and retrospectively interpreting the wildest records of the past, thus resolving romance into reality, had especial charm for him. The reverse of credulous, he would subject a fact to close investigation, before he gave it credence, but at the same time a latent affinity with the supernatural, if the expression be allowed, drew him to it: hence astrology attracted him, but after close study, he gave it up for various reasons, principally that a kind of Christian instinct, which will often advance when the understanding stops short, warned him off, by a sentiment, of approaching forbidden ground.

Mr. Roby was a striking instance of how far literary pursuits may be followed without neglect of the duties of life. "Literature to a man who must have a profession" observes Sir Walter Scott, "should be the recreation not the serious business of life." Mr. Roby's success in his profession was such as to lead another banker of eminence—not prejudiced by the tie of private friendship—to term him the first accountant in Europe. Bearing in mind the pursuits of him of whom the remark was made, it proves that a successful career as an author, is not incompatible with eminence in the ordinary business of life. A strength of moral purpose, which would not allow pleasant occupation to infringe on the prior claims of duty, and which led him inflexibly to follow the course he had laid down as right, gave force to a character that else might have been deemed too brilliant for every-day wear.

One remarkable endowment that must have contributed to his success in his own walk in life, was a power he possessed of determining the amount of any sum of figures that might be laid before him. The friend an extract from whose letter was given on p. [41], thus alludes to this faculty. "If a double column, twenty figures in each row, or a cube of six, arranged as below, were placed before him, he would tell the sum as soon as his eye could read the figures.

1 2 5 4 9 1
5 3 9 8 1 9
6 9 1 2 2 9
7 8 2 7 9 2
3 7 4 7 8 4
4 6 3 6 1 3
--------------------

He arrived at the result without going through the ordinary process; he saw it at a glance. If, as was rarely the case, owing to a passing fit of dulness, or a momentary distraction of thought, he failed to see the sum at once, he was rather slow than otherwise in doing it by the ordinary mode. Mr. Roby himself told me, that Bidder, perhaps the most wonderful calculator this country ever produced, though his superior in some points, could not approach him here."

Their respective powers must have been the result of two different faculties. In "the calculating boy," it was extraordinary rapidity of calculation. In Mr. Roby it was not calculation at all, but combination. He read and combined the figures into a whole, as we should read the word comparison, for instance, without spelling it; the power of the figures in the one case, being equivalent to that of the letters in the other. Perhaps the extraordinary strength and activity of his perceptive faculties, combined with considerable talent for the science of number, may account for it: the rapidity of his perceptions was at all times marvellous. He had not trained himself to this exercise, nor was it a faculty at all improved by use. He found out accidentally one day that he possessed it, and it never varied afterwards. The writer is not aware that he practised to any extent what is termed mental arithmetic. Yet some extraordinary calculations he made with a pack of cards, by a process carried on in his mind, which, if put on paper would have covered many sheets, appears to have been of that nature. In all such matters which depended on numerical arrangement, he was quite au fait. On one occasion he saw a lady perform a trick called Sir Isaac Newton's. She declined showing how it was done, and avowed herself unacquainted with the principle on which the arrangement was founded. He went home, lay for hours awake during the night, worked all the cards in the pack over and over again mentally; before morning he had not only discovered the arrangement, but extended the principle so as to be applicable, not to twenty-seven cards only, but to any number within the fifty-two.

Punctuality was another marked feature of Mr. Roby's character. He was, to use his own phrase, "a timist." An amusing instance of this occurs in his tour. "Whilst resting and enjoying our cheer (at the Hospice Tête Noir) I surprised Urlaub the courier, by telling him I had fixed three or four months previously to cross the Tête Noir on this very day, and on this very hour, showing him a sketch of my tour as given in the introductory chapter. He said it would serve him to tell and boast about all his life, he could not have thought it possible; 'but,' continued he with great simplicity, 'I am sure they cannot believe me!'" Other instances equally diverting he would tell, till even punctuality itself lost its sober character, and became tinged with mirth, if not romance.

His love of order and arrangement was very great: it almost amounted to a passion. As soon as a botanical or conchological work came into his hands, he made himself master of its contents, and drew out a tabular view of the information it afforded, a mode of arranging knowledge of which he was particularly fond, enriching the book with what might be wanting, and with references to other standard works. To those who are commencing such pursuits, a little more detail may perhaps afford some useful hints. In Lee's botany of the Malvern Hills, are added, in a beautifully distinct small hand, to each plant named, a reference to the page of Hooker's British Flora, on which it is described, and the month of flowering; while on blank leaves inserted at the end for the purpose, a list is given of all the plants according to the time at which they flower, thus forming a flora for each month in that district, to guide his search in each day's ramble. In his copies of Sowerby's English Botany and Hooker's Flora, respectively, to each plant the page on which it is to be found in the other work, its number in the London Catalogue, and synonymes from either of these or from any other high authority are added, with a mark against each successive specimen added to his own herbarium. His mode of laying down and preserving specimens for a progressive collection of British plants, often excited the admiration of other collectors. His cabinet of shells, too, was arranged in his own perfect manner. Yet with all this order there was nothing merely mechanical in his character, nothing that hindered the free play of his imagination.

The medical profession had at one period been contemplated for him, and his studies for a short time lay in that direction. For physiological investigations he always entertained a decided partiality. Hence no doubt his ready appreciation of the general principles of hydropathy; he saw and approved the rationale of the system, before he so successfully tested its practice. He had cultivated that general knowledge of the physical sciences which enabled him to trace their mutual relations. He dwelt with peculiar delight on their points of intersection, where the mysterious connection which is ever running underground, as it were, throughout nature, rises to the surface. His industry and perseverance equalled the activity of his mind, and the versatility of his talents. Concentrating his attention on one subject for the time, when he left it he would turn with the same fixed concentration to another; and the ease with which he resumed any design or train of thought, however long it had been laid aside, prevented his losing ground that had once been gained. The quickness with which he acquired knowledge was remarkable; while the use he would make of a new discovery or of fresh light cast on an old subject, by way of illustration, by elucidating kindred truths in other sciences, or by indicating discoveries yet to be made, was most happy. Nothing seemed lost upon him: a fact became to him something more than a bare fact, an index of the ideal, or of the hidden paths to those mysterious relations of nature, which it has been observed were such favourite objects of contemplation. By no means what is termed a great reader, he usually preferred scientific works to those of general literature. He seemed not to care to follow the imaginations of others; he rather required facts as material for his own to revel in, and create from. Genius must touch the earth to gather strength for her flights.

His love of the fine arts partook of the enthusiasm of his nature. His taste was highly cultivated, and his own proficiency in several branches of art, of no mean order. He loved to dwell on the subtle and mysterious meanings of music, on its wondrous suggestive power, and its burden of associations. A few specimens of his own power of creating "concord of sweet sounds," have been preserved. He was particularly happy in adapting the music to the words or vice versâ. Sometimes he would compose an air to one of his own songs. Very few of these compositions have had the care bestowed on them necessary to prepare them for publication. One which was harmonised by Mr. Novello, and published in the Congregational and Chorister's Psalm and Hymn Book, will appear in the present volume. It is a fair specimen of the composer's power of expressing the higher feelings.