amiable, his daughter full of sense and spirit; and I am as happy as it is possible to be, from home. My time is spent in walking about with these good angels, in reading my lectures. to the philosopher, or in most delightful conversations. Stewart's residence is an old chateau of the Dukes of Hamilton, agreeably situated near the sea, opposite the classic Benledi, and surrounded by fine groves that resound with the songs of birds, the cawing of rooks, and the sweeter cooing of woodpigeons. The whole scene, with the society and conversation of my friends, sinks deep into my heart. You will be glad to hear that the good Dugald approves of-even applauds-my lectures; and says they abound in good poetry as well as in sound philosophy. I am making the character of my worthy host a special study: he is very fond of anecdotes; nothing pleases him so much as listening for hours together to the most minute details of human character. I have been telling him all I could recollect of the prominent characters of the day; and there he sits, with his intelligent eyes fixed upon me, listening in mute attention. Yet, be it remembered, Dugald is no gossip; but as the bee collects its honey from every flower, he extracts matter for reflection and edification from every variety of human knowledge. His dear wife is still as charming as ever. She addresses me by the endearing name of son.

"I slept in a room haunted by a Lady who, two hundred years ago, was tossed over the battlements by her husband for being naughty! But knowing me to be a most modest and virtuous man, she had not the assurance to come into the chamber, while I occupied it; only, as usual, when the wind assisted her, she made the door open and, I suppose, just looked in to see where the poet of Virtue and Sydenham was reposing. . . ."

แ

"I found this seat of the Philosopher more splendid, perhaps, than seemed to accord with philosophy; but he is easy and prosperous, and lives in a style that somewhat, though very agreeably, surprised me. Here I have spent four days-tranquil and delightful days!

"To-morrow I am to start for Glasgow, where, in the company of my brother and sisters, I am to make a visiting tour among our relations. Mrs. Stewart applauds my resolution of fixing my residence in England; and the Professor advises me to educate my boy for the Church.

T. C."

ET. 36.]

DUGALD STEWART-KINNIEL-GLASGOW.

53

Once more in his native city, and surrounded by his family and early friends, he writes:

"GLASGOW, May 10, 1815.

"Taking leave of Kinniel and the dear Stewarts, I set out this morning for Falkirk, and thence by the track-boat to Glasgow. The boat has a cabin elegantly fitted up,-a very fine library, in which I found my own poems, in two volumes, and wrote several pages to our dearest F. And now, behold me arrived at Glasgow, in the midst of new excitements. I have seen my poor brother and his two children-alas, they resemble my own boy, Alison! Thomas, my namesake, is, in particular, a beautiful boy, and most attractive. Dear little soul, he has something of my Thomas's features, and of Alison's eyes. Three families of my cousins have met on the night of my expected arrival, to celebrate the event! Three grown-up daughters of a full cousin-Mrs. Gray--a favorite of my earliest years, are, like herself, become elegant and sensible women. They were half down the stair of the house, waiting my arrival; while their brother, who had visited me at Sydenham, walked out three miles to meet the track-boat, in which he expected me. . . A full company of our threefold cousinships spent the evening together, for the warm-welcoming of their London guest. I could not but feel the ties of blood; and you would have sympathized in my happiness, in being thus greeted by kindred whose faces. I knew not yet whose relationship to my dear mother-and of my mother in her best looks-was apparent in their countenances. My favorite cousin--Gray's mother--I shall visit tomorrow; she is in the country. T. C."

Much of the correspondence, after this date, consists of his hopes, fears, and speculations as to the probable results of the campaign, and the future destinies of Europe; but as these were soon brought to a final issue, I reserve the space for extracts of more personal interest. After a happy and prolonged intercourse with his friends in Scotland, and repeated visits to the favorite haunts of his youth, Campbell returned home to Sydenham. A few days after his arrival the fate of Europe was decided by the battle of Waterloo; and of a gallant young friend, who had fallen on that memorable day, he speaks in the following letter to one of the mourners :—

"SYDENHAM, June 27th, 1815.

"I can strongly conceive how much you have suffered from this cause of agitation, which has affected us all. I trust

it has not injured your health. I need not tell you the news of Edward, as Mary has sent you every document. It is not easy to describe the transition from his mother's state in the morning, when I left her literally in dumb despair, to the hope of the evening, when we heard of his being alive. I understand that an unfortunate rumor of Major Edward Hodge,* who was killed at Waterloo, and the men of the 7th having failed to support their officers, arose from the horses having been really scared by the flags of the Lancers; but the honor of the regiment is uninjured.-This is glorious news! I have been put into such a fever by public and private sympathies, that I have hardly strength to write to you. *** has shown even more fortitude than could have been expected; and M. is a true heroine-almost the only sufferer I was ever not afraid to approach. T. C."

*

*

*

*

*

Of the prodigies of British valor performed on this glorious. field, Campbell spoke and wrote with enthusiastic admiration; but among the tributary stanzas thus inspired, there is nothing perhaps more characteristic in style and spirit than the following song:

THE BRITISH GRENADIERS.
Upon the plains of Flanders,
Our fathers long ago—
They fought like Alexanders
Beneath brave Marlborough!
And still, in fields of conquest,
Our valor bright has shone
With Wolfe and Abercrombie,

And Moore, and Wellington!
Our plumes have waved in combats
That ne'er shall be forgot;
Where many a mighty squadron
Reel'd backward from our shot:
In charges with the bayonet,

We lead our bold compeers,

But Frenchmen like to stay not
For the British Grenadiers !

Once boldly at Vimiera,+

They hoped to play their parts,

And sang fal-lira-lira!

To cheer their drooping hearts:

*See notice of this officer in the Poems, in the Correspondence of 1809. At Vimiera the French ranks advanced singing, the British only cheered-Note by T. C.

After taking his full share in the public rejoicings and private sympathies which this most eventful period called forth, Campbell returned once more to his "Selections from the Poets;" and having applied to Mr. Mathias-the reputed author of "The Pursuits of Literature"- for advice in the prosecution of his design, he received the following answer :

DEAR SIR,

MIDDLE SCOTLAND YARD, WHITEHALL, July 8th, 1815.

I am just returned to town from an excursion into the country, and take the earliest opportunity in my power of acknowledging your obliging letter of the 27th of June, and I hope that you will not impute my silence to the least appearance of neglect, but to the impossibility of my writing before, for which I am much concerned. I am happy to hear it is your intention to publish some Specimens of Poetry, ancient and modern; and it will give me much pleasure in seeing all or any of the beautiful passages by Lydgate-which Mr. Gray selected with so much judgment, and which I inserted in the late edition of all his works-admitted into the volumes with which you will shortly favor the literary world. If I should ever have the pleasure of seeing you, I could show you many extracts from Lydgate, which would prove the injustice of those opinions which have been given of the old Poet, by persons who probably had read but a few parts of his works. I am glad that "Sketches of English Poetry" will appear under the care of a gentleman of your taste, as they will be most acceptable to the world. It is a very trifling a mmendation to say, that I have always admired the fancy, harmony, elegance, and spirit of your various poems, and I can only add

"Meæ si quid loquor andiendum

Vocis accedat bona pars"

I will not take up more of your valuable time, than to say that I should be happy to have the pleasure of seeing you, when I return from another proposed excursion I am about to take in a week or ten days, and to assure you that I am,

Your most faithful, humble servant,

THOMAS JAS. MATHIAS.

The month of August was expected to bring over the American heir to take possession of the Ascog estates, and from him it was imagined some further advantages would accrue to the Poet and his sisters. Should he arrive in London, Campbell was prepared to bid him welcome, and "to advocate the cause of certain poor but worthy cousins in the North;" and if he landed at Leith or the Broomielaw, he had friends on the outlook who were both able and willing to plead the same interests. His cousin, the Rev. Dr. Campbell of Edinburgh, was also enlisted in the cause, "but his letter," says the Poet, "which was not only civil but affectionate, I gave to Matilda to lay by; and she, by some accidental neglect, began to use it for curling her hair.""In this world what a host of trifling things are we not tasked with writing and thinking about as a refuge from those which are too apt to be ever present to our thoughts? I am doing nothing but looking through the British Museum for correct editions of every Poet we print from. No one could count on all the drawbacks; but if I get on at the rate of three sheets a week, I shall think myself clever. Talking of books, I have seen and been exceedingly delighted with your cousin R. M.'s Plain Sermons, and did not lay down the volume until I had finished it. That on the Club of Women is a masterpiece, and in my opinion superior to Massillon. I have now betaken myself to making a great book of scraps and patches for amusement, so that if you have anything written, or printed only on one side, to contribute, pray let me ask you for it." "This

day, August 28th, has been shockingly hot; and my garret study is like the inside of a strongly-seasoned pie!* I am, moreover, afflicted with rheumatism. 'The evils that afflict the just, in number many be.' But the twilight is shading into darkness; so with the last light of day, and the best wishes of my heart, I say adieu. T. C."

Writing to Mr. Richardson, he refers to a genuine Irish-bull story, intended for the use of his friend Miss Edgeworth :

For the description of his house and study at Sydenham, see Vol. I., page 404.