mute attention. But as soon as he had closed the last couplet, she rose gravely from her chair, walked across the room, and laying her hand gently upon his head, said, This will bear another wreath of laurel yet!' and, without another word, returned to her seat. But she was evidently much moved; and 'this,' said Campbell, 'made a stronger impression upon my mind than if she had spoken in a strain of the loftiest panegyric. It was one of the principal incidents in my life that gave me confidence in my own powers.' "Lochiel's Warning' and 'Hohenlinden' were intended for the new quarto edition only; but, at the request of his friends, they were printed anonymously, and dedicated to the Rev. Mr. Alison." On the 10th September, 1803, Mr. Campbell was married to his cousin, Miss Matilda Sinclair, a lady whom the Turkish ambassador at Paris, who should have been competent to form an opinion on the subject, pronounced to be the most beautiful woman in Europe. MARRIED LIFE. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell led a happy life in London and its neighborhood. The lady was too wise to be extravagant; and Campbell wrought hard, and was successful in obtaining lucrative employment, with which his name was not connected. His correspondence at that period was cheerful, yet cares harassed him even then. His house in London, and his house in Edinburgh, drew hard upon the means of a literary man, living exclusively by his own labor, constrained to dine out frequently, and to enact the lion. The passion for military exercises was then, in 1803, in full bloom; and although Campbell, like "Maunsie Wauch," was the father of a small family, yet he was compelled to become a volunteer; in some corps a costly proceeding. The following extracts show the points of the thorns among the roses, and how he bore them: "In the volunteer corps to which the Poet belonged, some verses were handed about, which show that he lost no occasion for maintaining, in all its native vigor, the glorious spirit of independence. They were suggested,' he said, by the gallant promise made by our beloved Monarch, that "in case of invasion, he would be found in the hour of danger, at the head of his troops!" The stanzas are among the rejected pieces, and, perhaps, long forgotten; but as they embrace an interesting point of history, I have ventured to reprint them from the original : "ON JAMES IV. OF SCOTLAND, WHO FELL AT the BATTLE OF FLODDEN. ""Twas HE that ruled our country's heart But Scotland saw her JAMES depart, She heard his fate, she wept her grief, But this she learnt, that ere he fell- Mixing their kindred gore! T. C.' "The poet was very regular in his attendance at drill; and, after a great field-day, thus writes to Mr. Richardson :-December-Out on St. Andrew's day at the muster of the North Britons. But oh! what a fagging work this volunteering is! Eight hours under a musket! Nor was this all, for he adds, 'Bensley, the printer, with all his devils,' is upon me for an account of £100, besides boxes, porterage, and Heaven knows what. It gives me the nightmare to think of it. . . I had a debt of £30 from one bookseller alone, when the braw' uniform of the North Britons, first estimated at £10, has swelled to £25, with dress and undress, haversack, accoutrements, &c.; and as I made them a speech I could not be off! Bensley, for he sends me home in low spirits I wish earnestly you could save me from every time I meet him! . . The sum you stated is a very plentiful production from the Edinburgh payments. Would that I had such treatment in London! . I am sea-sick of it. "I will settle in Edinburgh whenever my quarter of the lodgings is out; in a cottage or any box such as I spoke of before marriage. I still adhere to one acre, if I can't have more, How happy, happy I should be, to see you and my dear little Matilda smiling like the two cherubims in the temple-one on each side of me. I am sure you will like her, and that is more than admiring. The only bar to our being perpetually together must be, that I am determined to have my dear one in the country-out of the reach of "family" interference. But a place to your mind may surely be got, and we should always have a spare bed for you and yours. meminesse juvabit. God bless you, the Hills, and the Grahames! Fortasse hæc olim T. C.' "These extracts afford some notion of the cares, hopes, and perplexities alternately passing through his mind; but anxiety regarding pecuniary matters was soon removed by the active co-operation of his friend. · Bensley and all his devils' were speedily exorcised by a cash remittance from Edinburgh; and now, relieved from his late apprehensions, the poet falls into a pleasant dream of the future, which he thus interprets: 'I received your welcome letter yesterday. I wish to Heaven I could answer it. It is long, interesting, and like yourself, the good old boy! But no-I am asleep! Nod I go; dead asleep. * * * Here I dream a dream of futurity:-"Bring the mocha. My dear, will the pipes offend you?" "Oh no; not at all. I like the smell of Oronoko." Well, puff, puff. "But pray, my dear, do spare my * * * beautiful grate. "Well, I his letters. Mr. -,' he says, 'hearing, I sup- "The poet then awakes from his dream of future intermarriages, and remembering that his friend's letter contained an important announcement, thus concludes: 'I wish you joy, my friend! Give my kiss by proxy to the fair intended. She will like the representative better than the constituent. * * * I delight to tell secrets. Frank Clason has published a large political tract, called "An Appeal to the People of Great Britain, on Buonaparte's Ambition"-Motto, "Tros Tyriusve," &c. I want to surprise him with a review of it * * * ; and it shall be done in three weeks. T. C.'" A singular purpose crossed Mr. Campbell's mind at this time-nothing else than taking service under the Russian government as a Professor at Wilna. He seriously entertained the proposal; and yet his conduct was inexplicable after the publication of "The Pleasures of Hope," and the promulgation of his extreme opinions on the Polish question. He could not retract these opinions; and if he could have forgotten them, their memory would have been preserved by others. The negotiation was, however, seriously entertained and progressed in the following fashion : "It was desirable, however, that the wishes of Campbell should not be published until his election was secured. Any report of his being likely to quit the country would cancel his literary engagements, bring down his small creditors upon him, and expose him to various difficulties, from which it would be impossible to extricate himself at a day's notice. But what weighed more with him, perhaps, than any other consideration, was the dread of being unsuccessful; and, as his rivals could cite passages from 'The Pleasures of Hope,' which would be no recommendation to him as a Professor in Wilna, he was far from being sanguine as to the result. It was hardly to be expected that the Russian censor would be more indulgent to the poet than he had been to his poems; and, as the weapons he had formerly discharged in the service of Poland might now be returned with interest, he became less anxious to push the question. "In the mean time, however, the secret transpired; and the petty vexations to which he was consequently exposed, give a painful interest to of character. "Nihil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, Quam quod ridiculos homines facit.'" Even thus early Mr. Campbell had some embarrassments, it appears; but they arose from a benevolent disposition, and the discharge of duties that he could not wish to avoid. The negotiations for the Wilna professorship went on; but "Shortly after the date of this letter, his ardor in the canvass was rather damped by 'fears of an involuntary trip to Siberia. He foresaw that if installed in the University of Wilna, he could never, without dereliction of principle, inculcate any opinions but those to which he had already given emphatic utterance in his poems. Before he had weighed the question maturely, he thought otherwise; he imagined that if once fairly seated in the chair, he might have promoted the regeneration of Poland, and thus realized the wish nearest his heart. But a little reflection taught him that such a cause might have involved him in certain ruin. All further negotiations were therefore discontinued; he preferred the honor of advocating at home the cause of an oppressed people, who could only thank him in their prayers, to the emoluments of this, or any other post in the gift of Russia. In this resolution he was confirmed by the approbation of his friends, through whose influence he had the offer of another academical chair, which would have amply indemnified him for the loss of Wilna; but with improving pros pects in London, and a growing relish for domestic retirement, the offer was gratefully declined." At this period of his life, the poet's happiness, says his biographer, was most complete, and his "good-heartedness" unbounded; but he confesses to a considerable share of anxieties in the following note respecting a disagreement with his Edinburgh publisher: "July 14, 1804. | could not profit by the offer, it had the happy effect of giving him more confidence in his own abilities, and better opinion of human nature, than his recent trials had led him to form. Another circumstance-which had much weight in his decision to remain near London-was a situation which he had just obtained in connection with 'The Star' newspaper, and which produced an income of four guineas a week. His contributions to periodical literature were still a source of emolument; but ill health supervening, literary composition was usually followed by great mental depression-the inward struggle to resist outward pressure. But his hopes were still sanguine; his friends were kind, and better prospects seemed to be opening. Of his private life and feelings, at this moment, the following letter, though rather sanguine, presents an animated picture: 666 "A poet is born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards. I have only one consolation, and that is the idea of having yourself in Edinburgh to act as my friend in a business that requires both secrecy and trouble. The bare mention of the word secrecy may perhaps alarm the delicacy of a mind so little prone to concealment; but it is really neces- Will you also call and see how my mother sary, and not dishonorable. .. The fact is is? I am easy now about her. Don't mention this: I have got into a literary scrape: I am deal-anything of bad health-but only words of coming with a bookseller in Edinburgh in a business fort! She has now, in all, £70 a year. Pray where he can hurt me much. But at this distance, tell me, as expenses stand in Edinburgh, if you and corresponding with me, he answers no letters. think it is enough. I am anxious to know how About the time when I was agog after my wife, expensiveness has risen with you; for here, everyI engaged to write a History of England.' It thing is dreadfully dear. Although my wife is a was to be in three volumes-a sequel to Smollett. notable economist, yet the week's bills are enorI have nearly finished it. The bargain was that I mous beyond what they would have been a few was to do it plainly and decently-but as the years ago. Now, indeed, I begin to live someprice they could afford was but small, it was to be what more bravely than at first. I advise you, anonymous. Now, in the course of performing however, to marry, to know the value of life's this task, some ideas of which at first did not ap- comforts. I never take my poor Matilda a jaunt pear to me, have given me no little uneasiness. to Kensington, or indulge in the slightest luxury, without wondering that happiness-which before I could never get for love or money-was now to be got by industry and the virtue that purifies love, and makes money wealth indeed. The last time he wrote, it was a blunt demand, without either offer or terms, for a volume of new poems, which I had not to give him. . . About half a year ago, expecting (as hitherto) a largess on the eighth edition of my book, which his partner, Mr. Mundall, promised on every edition in consideration of what I gave him in addition to the second part of the The Pleasures of Hope,' I sent my mother a draft on Mr. Doig. But, although this premium on each edition is due to me, and although I was even working for him at the time, he refused the demand!" The negotiations with his Edinburgh publisher do not appear to have been altogether successful; and he was advised, at the same time, on account of the delicate state of his health, to remove to a quarter of the town deemed more salubrious than Pimlico. Precarious health prevented him from accepting situations requiring close attention, which were placed within his power. "I have succeeded in getting my house well furnished. We have a most elegant little drawing-room, and furniture enough for a parlor and study, when we get into a larger house. I have bought also some important maps and books, and hope soon to attain to a good library. All this comes of being happy at home. I should have been poor to this day if I had not got a wife. I must not omit, in my catalogue of comforts, that I have secured a good store of port wine; and yet I assure you, by the orders of my grave list, and from better motives, I have laid aside every propensity to take one glass more than does me good -to which I was sometimes addicted in Edinburgh. But who could resist such good fellows? I only mention all this, to show you how regularly and comfortably I have now brought myself to live. All this would be nothing with regard to the flattering of my own feeling--no ; but I have scribbled and blinded myself, reading and copying night and day, to show my dear, patient partner that, although our first outset in matrimony was poor, the continuance was not to be so. This insetting year I am preparing for innovations, which she resists as Jacobinical! I have banished the rummer toddy, out of which she used to drink her solitary glass, with as pleased a face as if it had been Tokay, or a better beverage. ... I shall have a large and well-aired house in the country, a stock of fowls, and a good garden; and, though Matilda's extreme caution is a guaranty | shooting up through the forest,' reflecting the against profusion, yet I find comfort a fine support light on its vane, or breaking the stillness with to industry. the chime of its 'evening bells.' Ramifying in all directions, shady walks, where he was safe from all intrusion but that of the Muses, enabled him to combine healthful exercise with profitable meditation." "My mother will now be comfortable, and, in a few years I shall be able to add another fifty, to be an annuity to the two more dependent of my sisters; that, however, must be deferred for a little time, until I can scrape up as much as will bring me a share in some literary work, and secure me a good income. Give my love to Grahame-dear, worthy companion of ours. He is the man who must be the intimate associate of our trio for life. Adieu. I am giddy to an excess with this vestal fire-like vigilance. Believe me, yours truly, T. C.'" Anxiety for the comfort of his mother and sisters is a most agreeable feature in Campbell's character, and appears in all his correspondence. The removal to Sydenham cost money; but it was a pleasant residence, and enabled him to indulge his desire for a cottage and suburban life. His retrospect furnishes many curious particulars regarding his private habits, which are not to be found in his letters. The annoyances of authors are well described in the following lines: "From Edinburgh,' he says, 'I came back to London a perfect adventurer, having nothing to depend upon for subsistence but my pen. 1 was by no means without literary employment; but the rock on which I split was over-calculating the gains I could make from them. I have observed that authors, and all other artists, are apt to make similar mistakes. The author-and I can speak from experience-sits down to an engagement, for which he is to have so much per sheet. He gets through what seems a tenth of a day; but innumerable and incalculable interruptions occur. Besides, what has been written to-day, may require to be re-written to-morrow; and thus he finds that a grocer, who sells a pound of figs, and puts a shilling, including three-pence of profit, into the till of his counter, has a more surely gainful vocation than the author.' "In my married state,' he adds, 'I lived a year in town, and then took and furnished a house at Sydenham, to which I brought my young wife and a lovely boy.' His cottage at Sydenham was not quite up to the picture that he had drawn of an Edinburgh cottage; but it was the next best residence, and pleased him exceedingly: "Externally, the new situation had much to soothe and interest a poetical mind. From the south a narrow lane, lined with hedge-rows, and passing through a little dell, watered by a rivulet, leads to the house, from the windows of which the eye wanders over an extensive prospect of undulating hills, park-like enclosures, hamlets, and picturesque villas shaded with fine ornamental timber; with here and there some village spire | Want of money was his grand torment at this period. If he had been richer, abler to work hard, or had fallen into more profitable engagements, he believed that he would also have been happier; but his incapacity to work hard conferred on him that leisure on which his happiness greatly depended: absolute privations of poverty. On the contrary, "I do not mean to say that we suffered the it was rather the fear, than the substance of it, which afflicted us. But I shall never forget my sensations, when I one day received a letter from my eldest brother in America, stating that the casual remittances, which he had made to my mother, must now cease, on account of his unfortunate circumstances; and that I must undertake alone the pious duty of supporting our widowed parent. Here now, I had two establishments to provide for--one at Edinburgh and another at Sydenham; and it may be remembered that in those times the price of living was a full third part dearer than at present. I venture to say that I could live at the time I now write, as comfortably on four hundred pounds a-year, as I could have lived then on an income of six hundred. The war prices put all economy to flight and defiance.' "' The difference between war and peace prices was certainly a most important matter with persons enjoying a fixed income. The character of his engagements with the "Star" newspaper, are explained in the following extract: Star" newspaper, and the " "I accepted an engagement to write for the Philosophical Magazine," conducted by Mr. Tilloch, the editor of the "Star," for which I received at the rate of two hundred pounds a year. But that sum, out of which I had to pay for a horse, on which I rode to town every day, was quite inadequate to my wants; so I betook myself to literary engage ments that would allow me to labor all day in the country. Dispirited beneath all hope of raising my reputation by what I could write, I contracted for only anonymous labor-and of course at an humble price. "It is always a misfortune for a literary man to have recourse to anonymous writing-let his motives be never so innocent. And if there be any excuse more admissible than another, it is when his poverty and modesty conspire against him. But it lowers a man's genius to compose that for which his name is not to be answerable. I wrote on all subjects-even including agricul ture-and smile, but hear me, for odd as it may seem, I tell you the truth in saying, that by writing | necessary to reckon how they came or where on agriculture, I acquired so much knowledge on they went. Dr. Beattie says: the subject as to have been more than once complimented on that knowledge by practical farmers.'" 6 "Any minute calculation of money received or disbursed, was an exercise for which he had neither taste nor patience; and of the real state of Writing for the press was not Campbell's his finances, his friends, in general, knew much walk; at least he does not seem to have more than himself. 'I am always ready to shoot shone in that department, although his fond-myself,' he says, when I come to the subject of cash accounts;' and it will be seen, in the course ness for magazine literature brought him of these letters, that he sometimes imagined himself rich when he was poor, and on one occasion thought himself penniless, when, in fact, he had a good sum of bank notes in his pocket. This however happened at a time when the aspect of his fortunes had much improved; but a rooted disinclination to balance his expenditure and income drew him into many difficulties, which a very little calculation and forethought might have prevented. often into trouble. Many of his friends expected that some situation would have been offered to him by the Government at that period; but a government has always more applicants than offices to be filled, and Mr. Campbell was not likely to make a good dun. He met his "noble friends" on something like a footing of equality; and while he was often compelled to solicit and receive favors from Mr. Richardson, Mr. Telfourd, and Mr. Rogers, he was too independent, probably, to remind his friends in the Government that he had claims on their consideration. 6 6 "During the autumn he continued to work at intervals upon the Annals;' he wrote papers for the Philosophical Magazine;' translated foreign correspondence for the Star;' attended at the office in town; and, by a daily journey of ten or twelve miles, going and returning, his strength began to improve, and he looked around for some popular theme on which to make another trial of his powers. Nothing, however, turned up to his satisfaction; neither his own inventive genius, nor the suggestions of his friends, could hit the mark; and for many months he continued in the same inglorious employment of anonymous writing and compilation. At length, his case having excited particular attention in one or two influential quarters, he was encouraged to hope that he should not be overlooked by a liberal Ministry, when supported by the good word of Lord Holland and Lord Minto. In what form their patronage was to be expressed was still uncertain; but a situation under Government, unshackled by conditional service, was that to which he aspired, and to which he was entitled by his talents and character. With these fair and reasonable expectations, which his friends were all anxious to see realized, time flew by; and if it did not find him prosperous, it found him supporting his adversity with a fortitude that commanded respect." His poems continued to be a sure source of income; and regular remittances were forwarded by Mr. Richardson, who managed the sale of his quarto edition-the only edition then productive. Mr. Campbell, like many other poets and literary men, was a bad calculator. He could not keep money. Real sovereigns even went from him as if in a dream; and he would not take the trouble One half of the difficulties by which "men of genius" are involved are traceable to the same source. They do not make their incomes stretch over their expenditure,, and leave a margin. The consequent and bitter feelings of dependence destroy their energy; and no small portion of the misery that they sustain is caused by deficient arithmetic. But the charge should not be recklessly made against literary men alone, although that is commonly done. The rolls of commercial embarrassments will show, we suspect, similar neglect. Men whose business is in arithmetic will be found to be equally prone to miscalculations in that respect. A literary man has, generally, a small income, comparatively, from which he is expected to maintain a vague, indefinite, but costly position in society. Country gentlemen, with large estates, often exhibit corresponding ignorance of arithmetic, and yet that is not charged against them as a class. At Sydenham several of Campbell's best lyrics were finally polished off-some of them that had been known and appreciated for one or two previous years. the course of this year, three only were permitted |