with men and women whose names are inscribed on the roll of Scotland's
illustrious sons and daughters. He may also take a justifiable pride in
the fact that, by virtue of his position as editor, he was at once the
arbiter and the censor of works which have since, by universal
acclamation, been awarded a permanent place in the literature of
England. That Bell's conduct of the _Journal_ was able, popular, and
successful, we have ample evidence to show. It is proved by the variety
and excellence of the contributions which poured in upon him from the
most gifted writers of the day. In his _Noctes Ambrosianae_, Professor
Wilson has published his attestation of the fact in the following
passage:--

NORTH--Here, James, is one of the best, because most
business-like prospectuses I ever read, of a new weekly
periodical about to be published in Edinburgh in the
middle of November--the _Edinburgh Literary Journal._
From what I know of the editor--a gentleman of talent,
spirit, and perseverance--I foretell the book will
prosper.

SHEPHERD--I shall be glad o' that, for ane gets tired
of that eternal soun'--_Blackwood's
Magazeen_--_Blackwood's Magazeen_--dinnin in ane's
lugs, day and night, a' life long.

Our readers will bear with what may appear to some to some to be
unnecessary digressions, when they reflect upon the influence that the
_Literary Journal_ exercised upon the subject of our sketch while he was
yet a young man "winning his spurs" in the field of literature. It was
through his editorship of the _Literary Journal_ that Mr. Bell formed his
close intimacy with all the distinguished writers of his day; and if
this was not the most useful, it certainly was the most interesting part
of the career of him whom we are proud to acknowledge as the author of
"Mary, Queen of Scots." From this time forward he was the most intimate
friend and companion of Wilson and Hogg. The former came to Edinburgh in
1815, with the view of practising at the Scottish bar, so that Bell had
no opportunities of visiting him at his beautiful residence at Elleray,
on the banks of Lake Windermere, where for years previously he had lived
in Utopian health and happiness, "surrounded by the finest of scenery,
and varying his poem-writing and halcyon peace, with walking excursions
and jovial visits from friends that, like himself, entered with zest
into the hearty enjoyment of life." But, as between