went to Paris, and spoke of going to Italy. Accident and caprice varied his route, and he went to Algiers and Oran.

We wish we had room for some of his letters from Algiers. They are spiritedly written; but they have been, or the substance of them has been, long before the public. His heart, however, was at home; and we have letters about a new edition of his poems, and about some arrangements for printing his African travels, in the New Monthly Magazine. Wherever

At the

he went he heard the clanking of the chain that was connected with his writing-desk and his miserable trade. He bad to return home, and he visited Scotland. The visit was a triumph; for he was everywhere cheerfully, enthusiastically received. He had more of dinners, public and private, than could be good for any one. public dinners he sometimes escaped a speech; but it was at the expense of exhibiting to guests assembled to honour him, that there were times and occasions in which the accomplished lecturer and patriot could not conjure upa single image; and at private tables, his power of enjoying a jest, or contributing to enjoyment, was never prolonged beyond an hour or two. fact, his health was seriously injured; he was rash in venturing beyond the range of the domestic circle. Perhaps it was well that the necessity of buying his day's bread by daily toil, forced him back to his home, to work at some sad life of Petrarch, and prepare prefaces to books to be written by other men. His name to a titlepage was something worth purchasing by a fashionable bookseller.

In

In the winter of 1840, Campbell, who had brought from Scotland the daughter of one of his brothers, to superintend his household, took a new house in Victoria Square, Pimlico. The education of his niece and the furnishing his house gave him for a while sufficient occupation and amusement. During the summer, his health was in anything but a satisfactory state. He would not abide by regimen, and rheumatism was added to other complaints. He had heard

Beattie speak of some of the German baths, and he started very suddenly for Rotterdam.

On his return to London, "The Pilgrim of Glencoe" was published, but people would not read it. Such a few years before had been the fate of "Theodric," which fell dead-born. Campbell in vain endeavoured to obtain a rehearing for "Theodric." It was a decided failure, though we have the high authority of Mr. Craik, that it is the purest of his poems. "O'Connor's Child," says Mr. Craik, "is the most passionate, Theodric' the purest, of Campbell's poems."*

Campbell's income and expenditure were seldom well adjusted to each other, and one of the strange things in this biography is the frequency with which unexpected relief came, setting things right by some legacy, or accidental contingency of the kind.

He next set or sold his house at Pimlico. He went to France to inquire about climate and cheapness of residence. He returned and sold some of his books, and wrote his name in such as he wished preserved for his niece, and at the close of the year 1843 fixed himself in Boulogne.

He amused himself for a while in endeavouring to arrange and classify his books. It was in vain. The trouble was too great, and the effort was discontinued. He wrote a few letters to his friends, dined now and then with the British consul, but soon found that even this was too much. He turned over maps, and thought he was busy with an undying work on classical geography. He read the papers, and predicted with grave alarm the encreasing power of Russia.

He

shut himself up at home more and more. At length his answer to all inquiries was, "that he was not well enough to see any one."

His home, however, was not cheerless. His niece, and a friend who resided with them, read to him his favourite authors. He was fond of music, and she played to him. The Marseillaise hymn was his great favo rite. He had first heard it at Ratisbon, in 1800. He grew worse from day to day; at last Beattie, in alarm,

VOL. XXXIII.-NO. CXCIV.

T

left London for Boulogne. He found his friend dying. At the awful close of life the thought of his father, and of his voice in family prayer, and of the expressive language in which his devotional feelings were clothed, came back to the dying man. His father's prayers seemed to him more like the language of inspiration than anything ever uttered by human lips, except the Liturgy of the Church of England; and during the last days of life the prayers of the Church of England seemed to be his great consolation. "Shall I pray for you," said his niece to him the day before his death. “Oh, yes," he replied, "let us pray for one another."

to move. Beattie was present, and well expresses the feeling of the moment. "The service for the dead, answered by the deep-toned organ, in sounds like distant thunder, produced an effect of indescribable solemnity."

We have incidentally expressed such admiration of Campbell through this article, that there can be no object in any formal discussion of his particular works, if, indeed, at this moment, we felt ourselves equal to it. Of his poems it is probable that the naval odes will each day rise into even higher estimation, as nothing whatever in our language approaches them in homely earnestness-earnestness so entire as to be absolutely sublime.

Dr. Beattie's book is conceived in the spirit of great affection for Campbell. It has been, we think, too hastily put together, and might be improved by omitting a good many of the letters. It is, however, on the whole, entertaining, and, it is gratifying to feel, that it is calculated to make those who only knew Campbell as a poet, think of him, with whatever infirmities, as a kindhearted, honorable, and good man :

THE year 1848, destined to be memorable in future annals, has closed, and the curtain has dropped on the first act of the portentous political drama now performing in France. It has risen again on the second act, and discovered new characters on the scene about to develop a series of new and startling incidents. Never was the adage, that "Truth is more wonderful than fiction," so completely realised as at present in France.

In the rapid sketch of the events of the past year, which was presented to our readers last month, the press closed upon us at the moment of the denouement, and when the characters, so to speak, were about to assume their positions in the tableau vivant, upon which, illuminated by white fire, the curtain was to drop.

Let us resume, for a moment, the incidents with which we were then occupied.

The presidential election was what journalists have agreed to designate as a "great fact." It was also, like many other "great facts" of the past year, unexpected.

Prince Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, the nephew of the Emperor Napoleon, the prisoner of Ham, and the adventurer of Strasbourg and Boulogne, was elected President by above six millions of votes. Let us see what actual proportion these suffrages bear to the entire constituency of France, under the conditions of universal suffrage, as defined by the constitution.

The population of France may, in round numbers, be stated at thirtyfour millions; of these, seventeen millions are of the male sex. By the tables of the duration of life, so accurately kept and officially published in France, it follows, that of those seventeen millions of males, not less than eight millions die before attaining the age of twenty-one years. There remain, therefore, about nine millions of voters qualified by age. But of these, a certain proportion, more or less, are

disqualified by various causes-such as sickness, absence from their legal domicile, imprisonment, condemnation for offences, &c. We may therefore assume the number of persons in a condition to deliver their votes at about eight and a-half millions. Of this number, seven and a-half millions actually voted in the last election for the President. Of these seven and a-half millions, half a-million, or one in fifteen, voted for one or other of the candidates who represented the ultrademocratic party. Seven millions of votes were divided among the moderate candidates, that is to say, those men who would have opposed all subversive doctrines, such as those of Communism and Socialism, and all tendencies towards red republicanism and ultra-democracy.

These candidates consisted of two classes-the first was represented solely by Prince Louis Napoleon, impersonating the reaction, the success of whom must necessarily be a solemn protestation against the Revolution of February.

The other candidates, such as General Cavaignac and M. de Lamartine, represented those who accepted the Revolution as the instrument by which a moderate republic could be permanently established. It appears, then, that of the seven millions of votes the latter party had divided among them about one million, and six millions declared for the reaction in the person of Prince Louis Bonaparte.

These are facts which it is impossible either to evade or explain. Nothing can be more conclusive as to the state of opinion in France. Six-sevenths of the constituency are against the Revolution, but they are also adverse to a counter-revolution to be effected by armed force. They are partisans of order, and they hope, by legal means, to bring about another change. A portion of them, although adverse to the republican form of government, would not be unwilling to acquiesce in its maintenance, if once confidence