"Now and then, even at this remote period of time, I find among my papers some of the poetical products of my pen, in furtherance of the laudable end we had in view; but perhaps the less I say about their poetical merit the better. They certainly were not 'inscribed with immortality.'

"It was at the time of these literary undertakings that my worthy relative handed me a rough sketch, in a kind of poetical prose, of a dialogue which he thought might be made useful to the working people on the farm attached to the mansion where he resided. From this rough sketch I wrote the tract, Thomas Brown,' with the simple object in view already stated; and though since then

6

My brow by time has graven been,

And gray hairs on my head are seen,

it seems but as yesterday when the report was made to me of the effect produced by my poor doggerel verses on the rustic throng for whose benefit they were composed. The sing-song stanzas, and the plain tale they told, were just suited to the taste and comprehension of the simple-minded country people, who were caught at once while listening to the artless history of the sabbath-breaker. No sooner were the words read,

"Where have you been wandering about, Thomas Brown, In your jacket so out of repair?'

'A ramble I've been o'er the meadows so green,

And I work in the jacket I wear,'

than a general expression of interest and pleasure lighted up their faces. Never was a more attentive auditory. With breathless attention they drank in, with greedy ears, the words of the reader, until Thomas Brown was represented as attending the village church. The description that followed won every heart.

"Again and again, on different evenings, was 'Thomas Brown' read to the rustic throng, who listened with undiminished interest. One of them, I think it was Betty, the housemaid, committed the whole piece to memory; and a farm-servant declared that 'the man must have a rare yeadpiece (headpiece) that writ Thomas Brown.'

"Soon after this the dialogue appeared in print in different editions. A young friend, a printer, applied for and obtained permission to publish it. The late Dr. Booker, if I am not misinformed, had an edition printed for his own circulation.

"When "Thomas Brown' was first printed, I felt heartily ashamed; having persuaded myself that I had some aptitude for poetry, the homely composition of the dialogue humbled me. So long as it remained written only, and was regarded as an offhand production addressed to a few country-people, it did not offend me; but when it came forth publicly, I shrank from the humiliation of being considered its author. Many a time in company, with a blushing face, have I smarted under the

galling lash of complimentary remarks addressed to me as the author of 'Thomas Brown.'

"Among the admirers of this tract was a friend, who took a lively interest in spreading it as widely as he could; and many a packet of the dialogue accompanied the merchandise he sent to different parts of the world. Thomas Brown' made its appearance in Van Diemen's Land at an early period of its history; and I cannot but think that to the exertions of the friend alluded to, both at home and abroad, much of the popularity of the tract may fairly be ascribed.

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"Thomas Brown' used to be familiarly chanted in the streets of London. Here and there, two persons gave life and variety to the recitation; while, in other instances, the whole weight of the piece was sustained by a single individual. One man was so constantly engaged in reciting the tract, that he seemed to have no other occupation. A respected friend of mine used often to joke me on this circumstance. 'I have met with your friend, Thomas Brown,' he would say, 'and I really think that you ought to allow him a pension for his good services.'

"The tract on which I have said so much has afforded pleasure to thousands; what amount of profit it has imparted is only known to Him who knoweth all things. It may be self-love that whispers in my ear the soothing conviction that

some of my readers will value it none the less when they know that it fell from the pen of Old Humphrey. Such as it is, it will be influencing the thoughts, the words, and the deeds of many, when its author is no more. How truly may it be said that from a small seed a great harvest of good or evil may arise ! Well may we be cautious of what we write or speak. Evil words may be as thorns in many sides, while words 'fitly spoken are as apples of gold in pictures (or baskets) of silver.'

While round us hours and years unceasing roll,
A word may warp, or warn, or win, a soul."

The want of success by Mr. Mogridge in obtaining an acceptance of his prose compositions among the booksellers, induced him to employ his pen again in the kind of metrical tracts which had already proved so adapted to the popular taste. In a short period, three papers were written and sent to the Religious Tract Society, under the signature of X. Y. Z. A communication soon informed him that two of them had been approved and accepted by the Committee; that if he preferred to retain his anonymous position, a suitable compensation should be forwarded to him, but suggested, as more desirable, a call at the Society's rooms. There was a kindliness of expression and friendliness of spirit in the letter which favourably impressed him, so that, though he had resolved to remain unknown,

he altered his resolution, and availed himself of the invitation.

An interview took place in the Society's rooms between Mr. Mogridge, Mr. Lloyd, the editorial superintendent, and Mr. Jones, the secretary. On the entrance of the former, his eye glanced around as if under the influence of momentary trepidation; but on being requested to be seated, he recovered his usually quiet self-possession, and entered into conversation with that bland and agreeable air which was so characteristic of his manner. He was

informed that his tracts had received the cordial approval of the Committee, and that they warranted the hope that he would become a regular contributor to the Society's publications. With much modesty, he expressed his doubts how far he should be able to meet the expectations they so favourably entertained; that his habit was 'to write on any object that casually met his eye, whether a tree, a flower, or a landscape, and he feared that the buoyancy and flow of his thoughts were unsuited to the force and sobriety required in religious tracts. But after a free and friendly conversation, he said he was encouraged by their kind commendation, and would supply them with other manuscripts, trusting they would prove equally acceptable with those already adopted.

If this interview made an agreeable impression on the officers of the Institution, it did not less