are dying with laughter, and now Emulation and Sympathy till they are choked with tears,--write now 'the Elder's Deathbed,' and now the 'Address to a Wild Deer,'--be equally at home in describing the Sufferings of an Orphan girl, and the undressing of a dead Quaker, by a congregation of ravens, under the brow of Helvellyn."--_Literary Portraits_, p. 209.] Instead of spending our time gazing at public buildings, let us continue our conversation about the Professor, whose life has been a tissue of interesting and romantic events. We shall find it profitable as well as pleasant, to glance at the principal points in his history, as they tend to throw light on the Genius of Scotland. John Wilson is the oldest son of a wealthy manufacturer in the city of Paisley, and was born there in the year 1788, and is now therefore fifty-eight years of age. He was reared and educated, with almost patrician indulgence, and inherited from his father a considerable amount of property, variously estimated from twenty to fifty thousand pounds sterling. Of course he enjoyed the best facilities for acquiring a thorough and polished education. His instructor in classical learning was Mr. Peddie of Paisley, to whom a public dinner was given in 1831 by his friends and pupils. Professor Wilson was present, and on proposing the health of his venerable preceptor, delivered a brilliant oration, not the least interesting portion of which had reference to his somewhat erratic course at school. "Sometimes," said he, "I sat as dux--sometimes in the middle of the class--and I am obliged to confess, that on some unfortunate occasions, I was absolutely _dolt_!" The confession was received, of course, with roars of laughter. From this school he was entered at the University of Glasgow, when he was little more than thirteen years of age. But he was tall for his years, and possessed an original and remarkably exuberant mind; and though distinguished at this time, more for the vigor of his physical constitution, and the buoyancy of his spirits, than for any particular attainments in literature, he generally kept his standing among his fellow students, many of whom were greatly his seniors. From Glasgow he was transferred to Oxford, and here he first distinguished himself as a man of genius. He contended in the annual competition for the Newdigate prize of fifty guineas for the best fifty lines of English verse, and though the contest was open to not less than two thousand individuals, he carried off the palm from every competitor.