sements was to
watch the ways of animals. He had examples, in his acquaintance among
dogs and cats, of heart and conscience in the two species respectively,
too trivial for notice here.

Dr Burton has stated in the letters previously quoted some of the
studies which he pursued at college in Edinburgh. His contribution to
Mrs Gordon's 'Life of Professor Wilson' furnishes a lively picture of
college life and experience in Edinburgh. He attended the course of the
late Sir William Hamilton, and gained some distinction in the study of
moral philosophy and metaphysics, so much that his appointment as
assistant and successor to Sir William was seriously considered by
himself and others. Had he become Professor of Logic and Metaphysics, he
would no doubt have discharged the duties of the situation well. At that
time of his life, great versatility, along with extraordinary diligence,
was the chief characteristic of his mind. In later years he did not
pursue the study of mental science.

Before the period in Dr Burton's life which we have now reached, he had
contributed many articles to the 'Aberdeen Magazine,' published by his
kind old friend Lewis Smith. These were lately collected and republished
by Mr Smith; but, to judge from such specimens as the writer has seen,
they are not, on the whole, of a character to increase Dr Burton's
present reputation. He seems to have tried his hand at every kind of
composition--romance, drama, poetry. In the last mentioned he had most
success. His sentimental verses are pretty. His romances are so much
crowded with incident as to be almost unintelligible. He was true to his
own peculiar taste in novels. If a novel was recommended to him he used
to inquire, "Is there plenty of murder in it?" He disliked almost
equally the philosophical novel, and the domestic or social novel. Of
the former he used to say he preferred to read _either_ philosophy or
fiction; he could not endure them combined. To hear even a sentence of
the best social or domestic novel read irritated him intolerably. He
would ask, "How any one could feel interest in the talk of a set of
ordinary silly people, such as one must meet with every day. It was bad
enough to hear them talk when one could not help it."

Quantities of early works, never printed, are still preserved by his
family. The habit of writing--_not_ letter-writing--seems to have begun
as soon as he could use a pen, and while his orthography--never a strong
poin