rgilianisms, and think only of the
delightful companion, the unaffected philanthropist, and the creator
of a beauty worth all the heroines in Racine.

"Mr. Campbell has tasted pretty sharply of the good and ill of the
present state of society, and for a book-man has beheld strange sights.
He witnessed a battle in Germany from the top of a convent (on which
battle he has written a noble ode); and he saw the French cavalry enter
a town, wiping their bloody swords on the horses' manes. Not long ago he
was in Germany again, I believe to purchase books; for in addition to
his classical scholarship, and his other languages, he is a reader of
German. The readers there, among whom he is popular, both for his poetry
and his love of freedom, crowded about him with affectionate zeal; and
they gave him, what he does not dislike, a good dinner. There is one
of our writers who has more fame than he; but not one who enjoys a
fame equally wide, and without drawback. Like many of the great men in
Germany, Schiller, Wieland, and others, he has not scrupled to become
editor of a magazine; and his name alone has given it among all circles
a recommendation of the greatest value, and such as makes it a grace to
write under him.

"I have since been unable to help wishing, perhaps not very wisely,
that Mr. Campbell would be a little less careful and fastidious in what
he did for the public; for, after all, an author may reasonably be
supposed to do best that which he is most inclined to do. It is our
business to be grateful for what a poet sets before us, rather than to
be wishing that his peaches were nectarines, or his Falernian Champagne.
Mr. Campbell, as an author, is all for refinement and classicality,
not, however, without a great deal of pathos and luxurious fancy."

Mr. Campbell's literary labours are perhaps too well known and
estimated to require from us any thing more than a rapid enumeration of
the most popular, as supplementary to this brief memoir. In his studies
he exhibits great fondness for recondite subjects; and will frequently
spend days in minute investigations into languages, which, in the
result, are of little moment. But his ever-delightful theme is Greece,
her arts, and literature. There he is at home: it was his earliest, and
will, probably, be his latest study. There is no branch of poetry or
history which has reached us from the "mother of arts" with which he
is not familiar. He has severely criticised Mitford fo