however, in concluding this brief notice, that no certain intimation of Daniel Campbell's death has ever reached any of his family in Scotland. He had long ceased to correspond with his brothers and sisters, and became at last, it is said, a naturalised Frenchman. All this talented family-parents, brothers, and sisters, it was the Poet's destiny to survive; and to find himself at last in the very position which he has so feelingly described— "A brotherless hermit-the last of his race." This concludes the brief introductory notice I had proposed of Mr. Campbell's family, and brings me to the immediate subject of these memoirs-the Life of the Poet. The annexed Table exhibits at one view a correct list of the children by the marriage of Alexander and Margaret Campbell-born between 1756 and 1777. The dates are carefully extracted from the "Household Bible," in which they are successively recorded in the beautiful handwriting of the Poet's father, and furnished to me by his grandson, Mr. Archibald Campbell. MARY, born in Glasgow, 19 Jan., 1757. Died in Edinburgh, April, 1843, aged 86. Aug., 1837,,, 79. 1830, 70. 23 Aug., 1826, 65. 1806, 30 Aug., 1758. Died in Edinburgh, 43. 64. MR. ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, born 1710. Died in Edinburgh, 28 CHAPTER II. INFANCY AND SCHOOLBOY DAYS. THOMAS CAMPBELL, the eighth son of Alexander and Margaret Campbell, and youngest of eleven children, by the same parents, was born in his father's house in Glasgow, on the 27th of July, 1777, and baptized the week following in presence of his family, by the celebrated Dr. Reid, then Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University. This happy event had been preceded by sad reverses of fortune; the worldly circumstances of the family had completely changed; but drying their tears, the parents welcomed the inspired boy as a "pledge of returning happiness, and were comforted." He was a lively, well-favoured child, rather of a delicate than of a robust constitution, with beautiful expressive features, and a precocity of intellect, which soon arrested the attention of his parents, and filled their hearts with many cheering hopes; the only hopes, probably, which they had ever the happiness to see realised. No prodigies, indeed, appeared at his birth; but his father, it is said, had a strong presentiment, that the son of his old age would do honour to his name and country. He was a remarkably affectionate child, very sensitive, keenly alive to praise, easily encouraged, and as easily disconcerted by a word or look of unkindness; the latter, however, was of The indulgence of the father had long been proverbial; and now that the child grew up, and the elder branches were widely scattered over the world, his affection became centred in the youngest. Even his rare occurrence. mother, I am told, lost much of her "natural asperity," in the treatment of this darling son; and very seldom reproached her husband with "over-indulgence to the boy." His eldest sister Mary, had already left the paternal hearth; but in his younger sister Isabella he had a most affectionate companion and nurse. She was indefatigable in all those little arts by which the infant mind is captivated, and gradually drawn out to the free development of its inherent powers. The trivial amusements of childhood with which he was indulged, had an object beyond the passing hour. His parents, too, had tact and discernment enough to perceive the rich intellectual ore which soon began to discover itself in their son, and made it their study to improve the discovery, by early and assiduous cultivation, a process that was best calculated to extract the pure gold. He was of a playful disposition, easily amused by others, and a child, of so inquisitive a mind, that he found amusement and information in everything that fell in his way. Among other relics of this date, the chair in which he was nursed-his "mother's chair -is still preserved in the family. In this chair, it may be imagined, he first learned to "recognise his mother by her smile," and felt the influence of those native melodies, of which, from his very cradle, he was so passionately fond, and to which she well knew how to give effect. Profiting by the first indications of a gifted mind, she had no difficulty in directing the future poet in that flowery path, which Nature herself had so clearly pointed out. The ballad-poetry of Scotland was familiar to his ear, long before he could comprehend its meaning; and when at length it came to be understood, the charm was complete. Thus, in his opening mind, the genius of the poet and the love of poetry grew up together, and became identified with his very being. From the hands of this amiable and affectionate circle, Thomas, now in his eighth year, was transferred to the care of Mr. Allison, Master of the Grammar-school, whose reputation as a scholar, and, above all, as an able and successful teacher, stood most deservedly high. He was a man of the Ruddiman class, whose zeal did not relax with his experience, but kept pace with it; and whose pride, if he had any quality that might be so named, was the pride of seeing his own qualifications eclipsed by those of his pupils. This worthy man soon discovered in the interesting boy the rich quality of the materials he had to work upon; and employed every means to give them a classical shape and polish. The fruit of this cultivation soon began to show itself. The kindness and approbation of his master were not thrown away upon a mind naturally fond of praise, and ambitious to excel: young Campbell was soon at the head of his class,-a position which he invariably maintained—and became a general favourite with his schoolfellows. At home, during the short intervals between school hours, he was materially assisted in the preparation of his tasks by his father, a fact which he has commemorated in one of his earliest attempts in verse. At this period the "decayed merchant," who was sixtyseven at the birth of his son, had long since completed his "threescore-and-ten;" but, thus occupied, he seemed to forget his years, assisted the boy in all his tasks, shared in all his little triumphs, and, like the Ritter Bann,— Isaw himself restored To childhood in his child." It must have been a picture in itself, of no little beauty and interest, to see the venerable Nestor stooping over the versions, and directing the studies of the future Tyrtæus. Thus month after month passed away; every little dis tinction at school imparted cheerfulness to the family circle, where a prize-book given by the master had all the importance of a great event. Commended by his father, caressed by his mother and sisters, the "Dux" returned every morning to his class with renewed ardour for knowledge; and every evening brought home, in one shape or other, some new title to their approbation. His constitution, however, was originally delicate. Close application, aided by natural excitability of temperament, had begun to show its bad effects on his health; and after a little time, the boy was taken seriously ill. Country air was immediately recommended, and he was removed to a cottage on the banks of the Cart, a few miles out of town, and placed under the care of a worthy old couplean aged "webster and his wife,"—who, having no family of their own, could pay undivided attention to the health of the interesting charge thus confided to them. Here he was left to run wild for a season among the fields, chasing butterflies, gathering flowers, or gazing on the blue hills, and "minnowy brooks" that flowed through the pastures. Every object around him wore, to a mind like his, an Elysian aspect. In the course of six weeks his health was quite restored; and when his mother came to fetch him home, he had so ingratiated himself with the old people, that it was almost a contest between "right and might" who should keep and who should take away the favourite stripling. During this "recess," the scenery of that classic river seems to have been so imprinted upon his mind, that it often returned to him in the poetry of his later days. With the mere exception of an occasional day in the country, it was the first visit-and the only one that comprised weeks-which he had ever made among the luxuriant natural scenery by which the banks of the Cart are so richly diversified. His rambles among the green |