condition, &c., of the lady to whom I am to be married; for I protest I have no recollection of having obtained a promise, these many years back, from any unfortunate woman, to love, honor, and obey me. I suspect there is some mistake in the whole report. T. C."

"Feb. 24th.-More than two months ago, my Petrarch was finished, and the press ought to have got it out in a month. But the compositors have slumbered over it; partly, perhaps, from the soporific matter of the work. It will not be published till the middle of March-no fault of mine. If I were to start now for the continent, i. e. in the middle of March, I should not have three whole months for my tour, which is too short a time for surveying the Ausonian land, as I must be back in June. In that month I must take possession of my new small house in Victoria Square. I have determined, therefore, to postpone my transalpine expedition till the autumn; and, if you are to be in London in the spring, I shall be here, and possibly in my new house to receive you. But let me know what your intended movements are; and do not let that dear witch, M——————, who bewitches everybody, throw her broomstick across your purposes.-Ah! my heart beats at the prospect of seeing you all. trip to Sydenham-a visit to Westminster Abbey! T. C."

A

*

*

*

*

*

To conclude some family arrangements, he now made a short visit to Glasgow; and having obtained Mrs. A. Campbell's consent to part with her daughter, he expressed his intention of providing for her. After enumerating the sources of his "literary wealth, "I shall thus," he says, March 29th, "be able to bequeath to her the means of independence after my decease. She need not come to London till the middle of May; and then, in my new house, she shall be as welcome as the flowers of that month. It will be an amusement to me to instruct her mind whenever she chooses. But assure her from me, that she need not fear being set to learn more than she really wishes; and she must not greet at parting from her mother, for I will send her back on a visit to you as often as she likes. She shall have a nice new piano-forte, and a music as well as a dancing-master; and tell her that she must attend seriously to her dancing."

*

Of his flying visit to Glasgow, the following letter to Mrs. Fletcher presents some interesting and characteristic particulars:

ET. 62.]

409

"March 30th.-Well knowing your friendly interest in your most unworthy friend, I think it my duty to inform you that owing to the prescription of Dr. Alison, and my immovable resolution in refusing all invitations to dine out, during my residence of five days at Glasgow, with my cousins, the Grays,-I recovered my health in perfection; and that, setting out from thence on Wednesday last, I arrived here on Thursday evening, after having travelled from Lancaster that day 236 miles by the rail-way, in twelve hours!

LETTER TO MRS. FLETCHER.

"At Glasgow I called on our friend Dugald Bannatyne, and the meeting filled me with measureless content. Oh! talk of your Claude Lorraine sunsets! What are they to the declining years of a great and good mind? Dugald is as fresh in spirits and intellect as you or I. He is confined to his house, it is true; but he reasons-he argues-and enjoys a joke and returns it as heartily as if he were only twenty. I was unfortunate in not seeing Mrs. Stark, who was ill in bed with the influenza; but the sight of the venerable patriarch of liberalism made some amends for missing that of his daughter. Dugald was seated in his parlor, with his still beautiful old partner beside him—I beg pardon for calling her old, for she looks still as young as any of She had been reading to him; and I observed that when he used the word reading, he always said we. I scarcely think there has been a happier pair since the days of Adam before the fall.

us.

"There is a picture of the worthy in the Chamber of Commerce of Glasgow. My first impulse was to get some great artist to paint his portrait in the consummate beauty of his old age, but my purse would not allow me to obey the impulse. Can we not, however, have an engraving of Graham's portrait in the Chamber of Commerce? Graham's consent must be first obtained, and then I will undertake, at my own cost, to have a first-rate line-engraving of that picture-depending on the subscription of his friends for copies. Dugald Bannatyne must not be forgotten. He has fought the good fight, from first to last; and he has fought it with benevolence, for no one could ever be his personal enemy. He was a reformer when it was not so easy, as it is now, to be a reformer.—I have left a commission with my friend Gray, in Glasgow, to obtain permission to have his portrait engraved, and when I hear from Gray I shall let you know.

"Though I had not the pleasure of dining with you, I am delighted with my visit to Duncliffe. I rejoiced to see you all VOL. II.-18

in such prime health. Angus, I venture to predict, will proceed rapidly to eminence in his profession. Your little progeny did good to my heart by their smiles and kisses, and your very dog seemed to know that I was a friend of the family.

"At Glasgow I found the only son of my brother, who remains in Scotland-a fine young man, and likely to flourish if he lives. But alas! he has the look of consumption. His condition called me to think of his only sister remaining in Scotland-a sensible girl of seventeen or eighteen. If her brother should die, she will have no protector. I have therefore invited her to London, to live with me,-I should say as long as I live. T. C."

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The Poet's love for children, and the delight with which he talked and listened to them, were beautiful features in his character; and, though often noticed in these pages, are finely illustrated by a little incident which occurred in one of his evening walks, at this time, which he has thus recorded :*.

Was sculpture brought to life anew.
I stopped the enchantress, and was told,
Tho' tall, she was but four years old.
Her guide so grave an aspect wore,
I could not ask a question more.
"Twas then I with regret grew wild-
Oh beauteous, interesting child!
Why asked I not thy home and name?
My courage failed me-more's the shame.
But where abides this jewel rare ?
Oh, ye that own her, tell me where!
For sad it makes my heart, and sore,
To think I ne'er may meet her more!"

Haunted by this infant beauty, and finding, after many inqui

* See the whole Poem-his " Child Sweetheart"-as published in the last edition, p. 344.

ET. 63.]

INFANT BEAUTY-EULOGY ON WOMAN.

411

ries, no clue to her name and family, he resorted to the last alternative of advertising her in a morning paper.* This also failed; for although he received various answers-some in jest, others in earnest-the name of the faëry child remains a profound secret. After many days' suspense he writes :—

"May 12th.-No word yet of my little darling seen in the Park. I am afraid she is gone down, like the President steamer, never to be heard of more! Yet I have letters, and not hoaxing ones, from people who believe that the child I was smitten with was their own child. One simple mother writes to me that she is sure her own boy was my admired child. Now the child I was so enchanted with was a female; and I, who have loved children all my life, know that he-children are never, in beauty, to be compared with she-ones.-Oh! if nature had made me a painter, instead of a poet, what enchanting children I should have painted for you! Only to-day I met with two little angels, from two to three or four years old-girls, of course. I took them each in one hand. They both looked up to me first with endearing simplicity; then they smiled, and shook hands with me. Yes-Heaven melts children into its own shapes. "T. C."

"P. S.-You perhaps think me a wild enthusiast in speaking of children. But I speak of them not unadvisedly. I study them; and my theory, on conviction, is, that infantine female beauty is infinitely superior to male. By beauty, I mean that melting of human lineaments into simple concord, which resembles the union of musical notes into simple melody. I would not argue with a person who knew so little of this subject, as to set the beauty of boys in momentary comparison with the beauty of female children. In boy-beauty-even at two years oldthere is always some breaking out of the he-devil. But to worship woman completely, you must begin with her from her childhood; yea, before her charms can excite any other feeling than pure admiration of the workmanship of Heaven-before

* April 19th.-A GENTLEMAN, sixty-three years old, who, on Saturday last, between six and seven, p. m., met, near Buckingham Gate, with a most interesting-looking child, four years of age, but who forbore, from respect for the lady who had her in hand, to ask the girl's name and abode, will be gratefully obliged to those who have the happiness of possessing the child, to be informed where she lives, and if he may be allowed to see her again. A letter will reach the advertiser, T. C., at No. 61, Lincoln's-Inn-Fields.

you anticipate anything more than her full mental charms. And are we deceived in the anticipation? No-the grown woman proves herself a heavenly refinement on man. Ask history which of the sexes has been most heroic, and it will answer woman! Ask the hospital surgeon whether man or woman bears operations more heroically and you foreknow his answer-woman! It shocks you more to see a woman drunk than a man. What is the cause? A woman is the purer being. I have been fortunate in my friendships with men: yet, altogether, if I were reduced to the most desolating misery, I should fly for consolation to my female friends.-God bless you. "T. C."

*

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For several weeks previous to this date, Campbell was immersed in the twofold cares of "flitting" from Lincoln's Inn Fields, and furnishing his new house in Victoria Square. In the latter instance, he was guided by the advice of an elderly lady of much taste and experience in household arrangements; and, remembering the "furniture fascination"* into which he had been led on a former occasion, he now considered himself as acting with exemplary caution and frugality. I seldom met him, indeed, without being taught some lesson of economy and prudence, in the selection and purchase of his furniture: but, as on former occasions, the delusion vanished as soon as the upholsterer sent in his bill. His house, however, was tastefully fitted up; and, with the comforts and responsibilities of a householder to soothe and interest his mind, he congratulated himself on the change, and invited all his friends to visit him in his new residence. His niece, Miss Campbell, had not yet arrived; but in

*See account of his former residence in Middle Scotland Yard, Whitehall, p. 223.

Of this house-the Poet's last residence in England-a brief description may, perhaps, interest the reader. On the right, as you entered, were two parlors, each with a window,-the front looking out upon the statue of Victoria, in the centre of the square, and the other into a small area in the rear. Beyond these were the penetralia-a square room lighted from the ceiling, ornamented with a bronze lamp suspended over his writingtable-the walls lined with well-furnished book-shelves and pictures, the floor covered with a Turkey carpet, a stove in the corner, and four scagliola pedestals waiting for their marble busts. This was his library, in which he generally entertained his friends at breakfast or dinner. The up-` per floors contained two drawing-rooms and four bed-rooms, all neatly furnished, and presenting, with no ostentation, an air of quiet comfort and independence. His domestics were two sisters, engaged at the recommen