t more from him than from any other of our rising "Sons of the
Morning." But he must work and walk worthy of his high vocation, and of
the hopes which now lie upon him--hopes which must either be the ribbons
of his crown or the cords of his sacrifice. He must discard his tendency
to diffusion, and break in that demon-steed of eloquence, who sometimes
is apt to run away with him. He must give us next, not scattered scenes,
but a whole epic, the middle of which shall be as obvious as the
beginning or the end. He should, in his next work, seek less to please,
startle, or gain an audience, than to tell them in thunder and in music
what they ought to believe and to do. Thus acting, he may "fill his
crescent-sphere;" revive the power and glory of song; give voice to a
great dumb struggle in the mind of the age; rescue the lyre from the
camp of the Philistines, where it has been but too long detained; and
render possible the hope, that the day shall come when again, as
formerly, the names "of poet and of prophet are the same."

FOOTNOTES:

[18] The Roman: a Dramatic Poem. By Sydney Yendys. London: Rantley,
1850.

[From Sharpe's London Magazine.]

RECOLLECTIONS OF THOMAS CAMPBELL.

In his intercourse with society, Campbell was a shrewd observer of those
often contradictory elements of which it is composed. Adverting to the
absurd and ludicrous, he had the art or talent of heightening their
effect by touches peculiarly his own; while the quiet gravity with which
he related his personal anecdotes or adventures, added greatly to the
charm, and often threw his unsuspecting hearers into uncontrollable fits
of laughter. Nor was the _pathos_ with which he dilated on some tale of
human misery less captivating; it runs through all his poetry, and in
hearing or relating a story of human wrongs or suffering, we have often
seen him affected to tears, which he vainly strove to conceal by an
abrupt transition to some ludicrous incident in his own personal
history. As an example, which has not yet found its way to the public,
we may relate the following, which he told one evening in our little
domestic circle where he was a frequent visitor, and where the
conversation had taken, as he thought, a somewhat too serious turn:

"In my early life, when I resided in the island of Mull, most of those
old feudal customs which civilization had almost banished from the
Lowlands, were still religiously observed in the Hebrides--more
especi