in writing both prose and verse. His first appearance in print was in a local newspaper; the piece consisted of an address on the occasion of raising a statue to the memory of Lord Nelson.

Another juvenile effusion was an inscription for a charity-box of the Infirmary, placed in the public room of the Talbot Hotel, Shrewsbury.

If thine the power to succour the distress'd,
And this appeal should meet thy wandering eye,
In pity, stranger, let it melt thy breast,
To do some gentle deed of charity.

If thou hast known the terrors of distress;
If thou hast felt the pangs of want and pain;
Oh, let not worldly thrift the sigh suppress,
Nor want implore, nor misery beg in vain.

E'en though no crowd admiring shall descry,
Nor flattering tongue reveal the deed obscure,
It shall not pass unheeded by that Eye

Which beams around the treasury of the poor.

Encouraged by his early attempts to secure the public notice, he soon became a contributor to several of the periodicals of the day. He was a regular, though gratuitous, correspondent to Ackerman's "Poetical Magazine;" and its editor was profuse in his acknowledgments for his disinterested aid. He also contributed to

several of Mr. Houlston's publications. As he was known to this worthy bookseller, and cherished much respect for him, he found considerable gratification in being permitted to give such literary assistance as he was able. Other pieces were sent anonymously to various periodicals and public journals. For three years the busy youth kept up for the perusal of his friends, a manuscript magazine, "The Local Miscellany," every line in each monthly number, both of prose and verse, being supplied by his pen, with etched illustrations. Nor was his vanity a little aroused when he knew that the revered and philanthropic Wilberforce had carried in his pocket one of these numbers for nearly a fortnight. When a little further advanced into manhood, he assumed and supported, for a considerable time, in a public journal, the character of an old man, entering so familiarly into the local occurrences of the neighbourhood for nearly half a century, that no one suspected that the head of the writer was uncovered with grey hairs. Thus, unconsciously, was he pluming his wings for other flights, and qualifying himself for more arduous undertakings.

An acquaintance with Pratt, author of "The Gleaner," and numerous other works, and occasional interviews with Hutton, the antiquarian,

Dr. Mavor, and Dr. Adam Clarke, increased his inclination for reading, and stimulated him in his efforts at composition; and every interval of time was diligently secured for the exercise of his pen.

In after life, Mr. Mogridge referred with peculiar satisfaction to some of the persons of distinction whom he saw in his early days. Among others were Lord Nelson and Mr. Wilberforce. A sight of the one arm and melancholy face of the former, awakened sentiments of deep compassion for him who had attained to the highest pinnacle of human glory. His reminiscence of Mr. Wilberforce may be given in his own words. "In this chequered state of being, our brightest remembrances are often associated with shadows. Though so many years have rolled away since I set off with a friend, to obtain for the first time in my life, a glance at the philanthropist Wilberforce, I have neither forgotten my enthusiastic emotions, nor the untoward circumstance which so sadly interfered with my pleasure. Understanding that Wilberforce was expected to attend Divine service at a village church, at some ten or twelve miles distance, I could not resist my impatience to see him; and in good time my friend and I were on our way to the village.

When near the place we called on a farmer, who described to us his pew at the church, where he said he hoped we should occupy sittings. We were early; my friend went to another part of the church, but I proceeded to the farmer's pew.

"While sitting in anxious expectation of the entrance of the philanthropist, the pew was entered by a gentleman of somewhat haughty demeanour, who resided near on a large estate. After regarding me for a little time he inquired if I were a clergyman, and on my answering in the negative, he told me that he could not answer for there being room enough in the seat to accommodate me and his friends. I told him that though I certainly was a stranger, the owner of the pew had requested me to occupy a sitting there, and the clerk had conducted me to it. He replied, that on ordinary occasions there would be room, but that he then required the pew for his friends. Thus circumstanced I, to my extreme mortification, left the pew and entered the adjoining one.

It was

"What poor, proud creatures we are! pride on the part of the gentleman that occasioned his churlishness; for not knowing who I might be, he could not brook my sitting with so great a man as himself. And it was pride on

my part, that made me so keenly susceptible of what ought not to have affected me.

Had we

both attended the sanctuary with humble hearts, hungering and thirsting after spiritual good, we should have behaved in a very different manner.

"After all, there were but four persons in the pew I had quitted, though there was room enough for more than double the number, and my hat, which I had left on the seat, occupied the sitting abandoned by me. I thought, when after the service, I requested the gentleman to favour me with my hat, that he looked not a little ashamed. I saw Wilberforce, certainly, but a cloud was on my spirit, and my enjoyment was lessened. There is a passage in God's holy word which says, 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers,' Heb. xiii. 1. But this passage had not been regarded. Pride sadly militates against our peace.

"The last time I saw him, who at the church had wounded my pride, he was stepping out of his carriage and four; and some time after, when giving directions to his work-people, who were felling timber, a large tree fell on him, and crushed him, and occasioned his death. Though

he was taken, I am still left. 'Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am.