Revenge has an object; and in the person of Anthony Corbet, or Dunphy, it also had, according to the unchristian maxims of life, an unusually strong argument on which to work and sustain itself.  But, as for Sir Thomas Gourlay’s mad ambition, I felt that, considering his sufficiently elevated state of life, I could only compensate for its want of all rational design, by making him scorn and reject the laws both civil and religious by which human society is regulated, and all this because he had blinded his eyes against the traces of Providence, rather than take his own heart to task for its ambition.  Had he been a Christian, I do not think he could have acted as he did.  He shaped his own creed, however, and consequently, his own destiny.  In Lady Edward Gourlay, I have endeavored to draw such a character as only the true and obedient Christian can present; and in that of his daughter, a girl endowed with the highest principles, the best heart, and the purest sense of honor—­a woman who would have been precisely such a character as Lady Gourlay was, had she lived longer and been subjected to the same trials.  Throughout the whole work, however, I trust that I have succeeded in the purity and loftiness of the moral, which was to show the pernicious effects of infidelity and scepticism, striving to sustain and justify an insane ambition; or, in a word, I endeavored

     “To vindicate the ways of God to man.”

A literary friend of mine told me, a few days ago, that the poet Massinger had selected the same subject for his play of.  “A New Way to pay Old Debts,” the same in which Sir Giles Overreach is the prominent character.  I ought to feel ashamed to say, as I did say, in reply to this, that I never read the play alluded to, nor a single line of Massinger’s works; neither have I ever seen Sir Giles Overreach even upon the stage.  If, then, there should appear any resemblance in the scope or conduct of the play or novel, or in the character of Sir Thomas Gourlay and Overreach, I cannot be charged either with theft or imitation, as I am utterly ignorant of the play and of the character of Sir Giles Overreach alluded to.

I fear I have dwelt much too long on this subject, and I shall therefore close it by a short anecdote.

Some months ago I chanced to read a work—­I think by an American writer—­called, as well as I can recollect, “The Reminiscences of a late Physician.”  I felt curious to read the book, simply because I thought that the man who could, after, “The Diary of a late Physician,” come out with a production so named, must possess at the least either very great genius or the most astounding assurance.  Well, I went on perusing the work, and found almost at once that it was what is called a catchpenny, and depended altogether, for its success, upon the fame and reputation of its predecessor of nearly the same name.  I saw the trick at once, and bitterly regretted that I, in common I suppose with others, had been taken in and bit.  Judge