government. In 1850, Lord Chief Justice Denman retired from the King's
Bench, ripe in years and in honorable renown, and Lord Campbell was at
once designated as his successor. In this exalted place, he was removed
from the harassing uncertainties of political life; and he continued for
nine years to administer justice with promptitude, skill, and equity.

It was while Chief Justice that he became eminent for the great light he
brought to bear upon many important and intricate questions of law; and
his fame may be said to rest mainly upon the profound ability with which
he exercised the functions of this trust. In 1859, when Lord Palmerston
succeeded to the brief administration of Lord Derby, Lord Campbell was
finally raised to the summit of his profession. He was the fourth
Scotchman who has been Lord Chancellor within the century, and is a
worthy compeer of such men as Loughborough, Erskine, and Brougham. The
long years of unremitting toil were at length crowned with glorious
success; and the great man died in the midst of duty, affluence, honor
and power, while enjoying the prerogatives of the highest judicial
trust, during the summer of the past year.

Whether we consider him as a lawyer, statesman, author, or man, his
character appears in a most amiable light. Profound without pedantry,
subtle without craft, zealous without bigotry, and humane without
effeminacy, he lived a philanthropic, pure, and consistent life. His
highest eulogium is that he lived and died in the service of his
country; that through every vicissitude his chief care was the national
weal; that his chief fame rests in the love and veneration which he
awakened in his countrymen; and that few Englishmen of the present
century have left more enduring monuments of public wisdom and private
example.

'O, civic music, to such a name,
To such a name for ages long,
To such a name,
Preserve the broad approach of fame,
And ever ringing avenues of song.'

* * * * *

CHILD'S CALL AT EVENTIDE.

Bright and fair,--
Golden hair,
Still white hands and face;
Not a plea
Moveth thee;
Nor the wind's wild chase,
As yesterday, calling thee,
Even as I, in vain.
Come--wake up, Gerda!
Come out and play in the lane!

See! the wind,
From behind,
Sporteth with thy locks,
From the land's
Desert sands
And the sea-beat rocks
Cometh and claspeth thy hands,