la's—Child—Anecdote — Buznach-African Lion-The Challenge — The Fencing-master-Anecdote-Kemble, Talma, and the Poet- Anecdote-Proofs of Celebrity-Anecdote - The Mercer-Singer -Soldier-Anecdote-The Poet and the Parrot-The Printers' Fes- tival-Anecdote Affecting Personal Anecdote-Convivial Habits —The last Apology - Evening Conversations — Fragment — Notes Family Bible--Exile of Erin--Dr. Madden's Notes-Extracts from the German-London University-Lord Rector's Inaugural Speech- Note to Vol. I.-The Campbell Club-Prince Czartoryski to Camp- bell-Polish Minister's Letter to the Poet-The Campbell Monument -List of the Committee-Opinions of Mackintosh-Goëthe-Funeral in Westminster Abbey-Letter from the Polish Association-Mr. W. LIFE AND LETTERS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL. CHAPTER I. VISIT TO BRIGHTON. This Ar the close of the season Campbell writes, "My health is getting sadly crazy again."-" Sept. 3. A severe fit of illness has obliged me to leave home. I have trifled with my complaints this summer till they have got ahead of me. morning, a physician attended me, and directed that I should repair to sea-bathing. I write you from bed in the 'Salopian;' and to-morrow I am to start for the coast. I have suffered some hours of acute pain." Such was the actual state of his health at this moment; yet in a strain that, to those unacquainted with his real character, would appear to savor of levity, he forces his sad thoughts, to use his own expression, into a new channel; and affects much ease and gaiety,* while, in fact, his mind is anxious, and his health impaired. His journey to the modern Baiæ is preserved in a humorous diary, entitled, "Journal of an old Poet of the Eighteenth Century," from which, and his letters, I am enabled to present the following extracts : "September 6, Thursday Night. Could not sleep at the 'Salopian;' set off at seven next morning; looked at myself *This, as it repeatedly struck the narrator, was very characteristic of Campbell, who often appeared lively and companionable, while actually suffering from pain or anxiety. In this mood he endeavored to forget himself-drew from incidents, however trivial, something for the mind to lay hold of; but, in his very playfulness, he was still a philosopher." in the glass, pale, unshaven; an ugly man and a bad author. Mem. Since the year 1810 my physical beauty has much declined. N. B. to treasure up the beauties of the mind. A silly felloww-passenger in the coach with four dumbies; heard the talker named Alison; deigned to speak to him for the sake of his name. After a long pause, one of them, an officer, asked me if I had been 'amused counting the mile-stones?' Answered by 'Is that your mode of amusing yourself on a road?' Not another word exchanged... Nearer Brighton the country grows more beautiful; the smooth Downs are very strikinginterspersed with wide expanses of green, and fields of fine corn; the landscape looks like a colored print; the oats like fine plush velvet, so thick, so rich and glossy; the potato fields, like green carpets spread upon the Downs. Mem. to keep this nice comparison for a clap-trap at the Institution Lectures! . . . Dined at the White Horse Inn upon a fine fried sole. Saturday Morning. Stepped over to a house near the sea, and saw lodgings at a guinea a week; neat, very small, civil. The landlady of the White Horse calls the folks of the house 'good, 'sponsible people;' so I took the lodgings. Called upon D'Israeli, a good modest man; invited to dine with him to-morrow. Mem, forgot to mention an important event of yesterday: On the road saw some nets hanging out to dry, in which an unlucky cow had got entangled, and other cows were assisting her out. The sight was interesting. . . T. C." BRIGHTON, September 11. "... The 'seasoning cold' is going off. Matilda's arrival is important. You women are delightful beings; but your fault is, never making distinctions. An illness might be intolerably troublesome, without being dangerous; yet you all set me down as very ill. Before Matilda's arrival, I had a world of troubles. Mrs. Drake advised us to go to a boarding-house -without seeing the rooms! I bespoke boarding for us all at seven guineas a week. I had been told the rooms were good; when, lo! on being shown them, they were high, bleak atticsno place for a fire-and it was chilling cold. This complimentary allusion to my attic poetry, at the expense of my constitution, I did not relish; yet how was I to untwist the Gordian knot? But the boarding-mistress was civil, and disembarrassed me, as soon as I found another lodging-for three guineas a week, the suite of splendid apartments from which I have now the honor of writing to you. I had asked if they ET. 35.] LETTERS FROM BRIGHTON-SIDDONS. 11 were quiet? 'Oh, the quietest in the world.' Nothing had the landlady said to me of a family of a dozen children, I suppose, graduated most regularly in their scale of noises, from the wail of sucking infancy, to the roar of naughty boyhood; nothing in the world had she said to me of a beautiful Poll-parrot, of the first powers of mimickry, who gives me all their gamut of melody at second hand, interspersing his own natural shrieks and ho-ho-laughs, and whistlings, and triumphant chuckles in the midst of his ludicrous imitations. 66 "But, after all, I cannot get rid of this terrestrial paradise; for when you go to an alluring window-pane, instead of lodgings, you find something about a milch-ass or a donkey-cart. Friend N. coming out of the bathing machine is very like a I have seen Mrs. Siddons-every day that I could stir out, in a chair or without it. Herschel the astronomer is here, and I expect to be introduced to him. His son, a very young man, is going to turn out a second Newton. water-rat. "T. C." To another Sydenham friend he writes in continuation :“ BRIGHTON, September 12, 1813. "To-day has been exceedingly beautiful, and the weather most exhilarating. Luckily for us, our lodgings are very near the sea; and I believe, from experience, that if good is to be got by sea air, it must be in the very vicinity of the waves. Thomas amuses himself incessantly, and delightfully, on the beach and among the shipping, and looks the better for his sea air already. Matilda, who was threatened with a fit of illness, is apparently better for the sea breezes. I am giving myself up to idleness here, and aiming only at breathing as much of the sea air as I can get for my three guineas a week. . . "I expect to be much disturbed, but I mind rest much less at present, than when I am studying. When I return, I shall set about Murray's 'Specimens,' and conclude it merrily. I shall probably give two lectures at the Institution in the course of the winter. I have seen much of Mrs. Siddons, who is here, and met me wandering about the day I came. T. C." . . What a world of small and great uneasinesses do we live in! Sometimes, in looking at this delightful scenery, when I see the prospect smiling, I think the sea and the air put on that smile because they are inanimate beings, not conscious |