ther than wit with which they are seasoned. Of all the natives of Scotland, however, he has least of the patois of the country in his delivery, which is surprising, when it is considered he was above twenty-one years of age before he quitted it, and ear to the English pronunciation early in life. Besides his knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages, Campbell is a good German scholar, has acquired a considerable knowledge of Hebrew, and speaks French fluently. During the residence of Campbell at Sydenham, there were several individuals in that village who were fond of inviting literary men to their tables, and were conspicuous for their conviviality. Numerous choice spirits used to meet together there, and among them was Campbell. The repartee and Scottish descent and considerable personal beauty, but of whom he was deprived by death in 1828. His residence was at Sydenham, and the entire | neighbourhood of that pleasant village reckoned itself in the circle of his friends; nor did he quit his rural retreat until, in 1821, literary pursuits de-shows how accurately he must have attuned his manded his residence in the metropolis. It was at Sydenham, in a house looking towards the reservoir, that the poet produced his greatest work, Gertrude of Wyoming, written in the Spenserian stanza. It is a simple Indian tale, but the tenderness and beauty of the thoughts and expressions are scarcely equalled, certainly not surpassed, in any English poet. The speech of Outalissi seems to have furnished Byron with a hint for the style and form of several of his stories. About the same time Campbell was appointed professor of poetry in the Royal Institution, where he de-joke were exchanged, and many a practical trick livered lectures, which have since been published. He also undertook the editorship of selections from the British poets, intended as specimens of each, and accompanied with critical remarks, extend-have been since distinguished in the literary ing to several volumes. These remarks show the erudition of the author, but they also proclaim that fastidiousness of taste and singular sensitiveness regarding all he publishes, which is so distinguishing a characteristic of this poet. He re-into the pleasantries of the time, and many an fines, and re-refines, until his sentences appear to have lost connection with each other in his anxiety to render them as perfect as possible. played off which now forms the burden of an after-dinner story wherever the various individuals then present are scattered. Many of these world; among them were the facetious brothers, the Smiths, James and Horace, Theodore Hook, and others; but it appears Campbell was behind none of them in the zest with which he entered anecdote is recorded of him on these occasions, to which some biographer will doubtless do justice hereafter. be expected to write much."> Soon after the publication of his Selections he In 1824 Campbell published his Theodric, a again visited Germany, and spent some time in Domestic Tale,» the least popular of his works. Vienna, where he acquired a considerable know- Many pieces of great merit came out in the same ledge of the Austriau court and its manners, and volume, among which are the « Lines to J. P. Kemclosely observed that unrelaxing despotism by ble,» and those entitled the « Last Man.» The which it governs. He remained long at Bonn, fame of Campbell, however, must rest on his prewhere his friend, A. W. Schlegel, resides, and vious publications, which, though not numerous, passed his time in cultivating the intimacy of are so correct, and were so fastidiously revised other literary men there. Leaving his son under that, while they remain as standards of purity in the care of a tutor in Bonn University, Campbell the English tongue, they sufficiently explain why returned to England in 1820, to undertake the their author's compositions are so limited in numeditorship of the New Monthly Magazine, a pub-ber, « since he who wrote so correctly could not lication which speedily came into extensive circulation, and, with Blackwood's Magazine, which espouses the opposite side in politics, takes the lead in English mensual literature. To the New Monthly Magazine Campbell has contributed little, indeed nothing more than is before the public with his name. He is slow, and even idle in his habits of business. To fix his attention closely for any considerable time to literary labour is a difficult thing, and composition seems rather a task than a pleasure, since the fire of his youth has cooled. He is fond of the society of his friends, and of the social hour; his stock of anecdotes and stories, which is extensive, is often displayed on these occasions, but it is humour ra By his marriage Campbell had two sons. One of them died before attaining his twentieth year; the other while at Bonn, where, as already observed, he was placed for his education, exhibited symptoms of an erring mind, which, on his return to England soon afterwards, ripened into mental derangement of the milder species. This disease, it is probable, he inherited on his mother's side, as on his father's no symptoms of it had ever been shown. After several years passed in this way, during which the mental disease considerably relaxed, so that young Campbell became wholly inoffensive, his father received him into his house. The effects of such a sight upon a mind of the most exquisite sensibility, like the exhibits great fondness for recondite subjects; poet's, may be readily imagined; it was, at times, a | and will frequently spend days in minute invessource of the keenest suffering. lle has tigations into languages which in the result are We must now allude to an event in Campbell's of no moment: but his ever-delighted theme is life, which will cause him the gratitude of mil- Greece, her arts and literature. There he is at lions of unborn hearts, and the benefits of which home; it was his earliest and will probably be are incalculable. It is to Campbell that England his latest study. There is no branch of poetry or owes the London University. Four years before history which has reached us from the « mother it was made public the idea struck his mind, from of arts » with which he is not familiar. having been in the habit of visiting the universi-severely handled Mitford for his singular praise ties of Germany, and studying their regulations. of the Lacedemonians at the expense of the AtheHe communicated it at first to two or three friends nians, and his preference of their barbarous and only, until his ideas upon the subject became ma- obscene laws to the legislation of the latter peoture, when they were made public, and a meeting ple. His Lectures on Greek Poetry are already upon the business convened in London, which before the public, having appeared in parts in Mr Campbell addressed, and where the establish- the New Monthly Magazine. He also published ment of such an institution met the most zealous Annals of Great Britain from the accession of support. Once in operation, the men of the city, George the Third to the Peace of Amiens;» and headed by Mr Brougham, lost not a moment in is the author of several articles on Poetry and advancing the great and useful object in view. Belles-Lettres in the Edinburgh Encyclopædia. In The undertaking was divided into shares, which addition to the profits derived from these literary were rapidly taken. Mr Brougham took the lead-labours, our Poet enjoys a pension from Governing part, and addressed the various meetings on the subject. Mr Campbell, ill fitted for steady exertion, seems to have left the active arrangements to others better qualified for them by habits of business, and contented himself with attending the committees. With a rapidity unexampled the London University has been completed; and Campbell has had the satisfaction of seeing his projected instrument of education in full operation in less than three years after he made the scheme public. ment, supposed to have been granted to him for writing political paragraphs in an evening paper, in support of Lord Grenville's administration. Campbell was, as has been before observed, educated at Glasgow, and received the honour of election for Lord Rector, three successive years, notwithstanding the opposition of the professors and the excellent individuals who were placed against him; among whom were the late minister Canning and Sir Walter Scott. The students of Glasgow College considered that the celebrity of the poet, his liberal principles, his being a fellowtownsman and his attention to their interests, entitled him to the preference. In person, Campbell is below the middle stature, well made, but slender. His features indicate great sensibility, and that fastidiousness for which he is remarkable in every thing he under- Finally, Campbell has all the characteristics of takes. His eyes are large, peculiarly striking, and the genus irritabile about him. He is the creature of a deep blue colour, his nose aquiline, his ex-of impulses, and often does things upon the spur pression generally saturnine. He has long worn a peruke, but the natural colour of his hair is dark. His step is light, but firm; and he appears to possess much more energy of constitution than men of fifty-two, who have been studious in their habits, exhibit in general. His time for study is mostly during the stillness of night, when he can be wholly abstracted from external objects. He of the moment, which upon reflection he recals. He is remarkable for absence of mind; is charitable and kind in his disposition, but of quick temper: his amusements are few, the friend and conversation only. His heart is perhaps one of the best that beats in a human bosom; it is, in effect, that which should belong to the poet of Gertrude, his favourite personification, " THE POETICAL WORKS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. The Pleasures of Hope. IN TWO PARTS. PART I. ANALYSIS. Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene And THE Poem opens with a comparison between the beauty of remote objects in a landscape, and those ideal scenes of felicity which the imagination delights to contemplate-the influence of anticipation upon the other passions is next delineated-an allusion is made to the well-known fiction in Pagan tradition, that, when all the guardian deities of mankind abandoned the world, What potent spirit guides the raptured eye Hope alone was left behind-the consolations of this To pierce the shades of dim futurity? passion in situations of danger and distress-the seaCan Wisdom lend, with all her heav'nly pow'r, man on his watch-the soldier marching into battle-The pledge of Joy's anticipated hour? allusion to the interesting adventures of Byron. The inspiration of Hope, as it actuates the efforts of genius, whether in the department of science, or of Laste-domestic felicity, how intimately connected with views of future happiness-picture of a mother watching her infant when asleep-pictures of the prisoner, the maniac, and the wanderer. From the consolations of individual misery, a transition is made to prospects of political improvement in the future state of society-the wide field that is yet open for the progress of humanizing arts among uncivilized nations-from these views of amelioration of society, and the extension of liberty and truth over despotie and barbarous countries, by a melancholy contrast of ideas, we are led to reflect upon the hard fate of a brave people recently conspicuous in their struggles for independence-description of the capture of Warsaw, of the last contest of the oppressors and the oppressed, and the massacre of the Polish patriots at the bridge of Prague-apostrophe to the self-interested enemies of buman improvement- the wrongs of Africa-the barbarous policy of Europeans in India-prophecy in the Iliadoo mythology of the expected descent of the Deity to redress the miseries of their race, and to take yengeance on the violators of justice and mercy. Ar summer eve, when leaven's ethereal bow Ah, no! she darkly sees the fate of man- Primeval HOPE, the Aönian Muses say, Thus, while Elijah's burning wheels prepare. Auspicious HOPE! in thy sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe; Won by their sweets, in Nature's languid hour, To wake each joyless morn, and search again And sweep the furrow'd lines of anxious thought away! Pale, but intrepid, sad, but unsubdued, Angel of life! thy glittering wings explore Earth's loneliest bounds, and Ocean's wildest shore. Lo! to the wintry winds the pilot yields His bark, careering o'er unfathom'd fields; Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar, Where Andes, giant of the western star, With meteor-standard to the winds unfurl'd, Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world! Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles: Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow, From wastes that slumber in eternal snow; And waft, across the wave's tumultuous roar, The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore. Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shatter'd bark delay; Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away. But HOPE can here her moonlight vigils keep, And sing to charm the spirit of the deep: Swift as yon streamer lights the starry pole, Her visions warm the watchman's pensive soul; His native hills that rise in happier climes, The grot that heard his song of other times, His cottage home, his bark of slender sail, His glassy lake, and broomwood-blossom'd vale, Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind, Treads the loved shore he sigh'd to leave behind; Meets at each step a friend's familiar face, And flies at last to Helen's long embrace; Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear, And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear! While, long neglected, but at length caress'd, His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest, Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam) His wistful face, and whines a welcome home. Friend of the brave! in peril's darkest hour, Intrepid Virtue looks to thee for power; To thee the heart its trembling homage yields, On stormy floods, and carnage-cover'd fields, When front to front the banner'd hosts combine, Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line. When all is still on Death's devoted soil, The march-worn soldier mingles for the toil; As rings his glittering tube, he lifts on high The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye, Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come, And hears thy stormy music in the drum! And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore The hardy Byron to his native shore-(1) In horrid climes, where Chiloe's tempests sweep Pierced the deep woods, and hailing from afar, Congenial HOPE! thy passion-kindling power, Go, child of Heav'n! (thy winged words proclaim) 'T is thine to search the boundless fields of fame! Lo! Newton, priest of nature, shines afar, Scans the wide world, and numbers ev'ry star! Wilt thou, with him, mysterious rites apply, And watch the shrine with wonder-beaming eye! Yes, thou shalt mark, with magic art profound, The speed of light, the circling march of sound; With Franklin grasp the lightning's fiery wing, Or yield the lyre of Heav'n another string. (3) The Swedish sage (4) admires, in yonder bowers, His winged insects, and his rosy flowers; Calls from their woodland haunts the savage train With sounding horn, and counts them on the plain— So once, at Heav'n's command, the wand'rers came To Eden's shade, and heard their various name. << Far from the world, in yon sequester'd clime, Slow the pass sons of Wisdom, more sublime; Calm as the fields of Heav'n his sapient eye The loved Athenian lifts to realms on high, Admiring Plato, on his spotless page, Stamps the bright dictates of the Father sage: 'Shall Nature bound to Earth's diurnal span The fire of God, th' immortal soul of man?' Turn, child of Heav'n, thy rapture-lighten'd eye To Wisdom's walks, the sacred Nine are nigh: Hark! from bright spires that gild the Delphian height, From streams that wander in eternal light, Ranged on their hill, Harmonia's daughters swell The mingling tones of horn, and harp, and shell; Deep from his vaults, the Loxian murmurs flow, (5) And Pythia's awful organ peals below. « Beloved of Heav'n! the smiling Muse shall shed Her moonlight halo on thy beauteous head; Shall swell thy heart to rapture unconfined, And breathe a holy madness o'er thy mind. I see thee roam her guardian pow'r beneath, And talk with spirits on the midnight heath; Inquire of guilty wand'rers whence they came, And ask each blood-stain'd form his earthly name; Then weave in rapid verse the deeds they tell, And read the trembling world the tales of hell. . When Venus, throned in clouds of rosy hue, . Or wilt thou Orphean hymns more sacred deem, Yes; to thy tongue shall seraph words be given, And power on earth to plead the cause of Heaven; The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, That never mused on sorrow but its own, Unlocks a generous store at thy command, Like Horeb's rocks beneath the prophet's hand. (6) The living lumber of his kindred earth, Charm'd into soul, receives a second birth, Feels thy dread power another heart afford, Whose passion-touch'd harmonious strings accord True as the circling spheres to Nature's plan; And man, the brother, lives the friend of man. Bright as the pillar rose at Heaven's command, Propitious Power! when rankling cares annoy Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same-- Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps, And weaves a song of melancholy joy— In form and soul; but, ah! more blest than he! And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away. «And say, when summon'd from the world and thee I lay my head beneath the willow tree, Wilt thou, sweet mourner! at my stone appear, So speaks affection, ere the infant eye Or cons his murmuring task beneath her care, Where is the troubled heart, consign'd to share Chide not his peace, proud Reason! nor destroy Oft when yon moon has climb'd the midnight sky, And the lone sea-bird wakes its wildest cry, |