quested that he would record it. It is melancholy, though striking. He says that he was on a visit to Abbotsford when Sir Walter's embarrassments began to be felt by him, although not divulged: asked him after dinner to recite it again. We left the poet about nine, and adjourned to the Greyhound,' where we had bee steaks for supper and a liberal allowance of brandy-punch. We had a very merry night. Ballantyne sung all Sir Walter's favourite songs, in several of which, and the choruses, both Sir Walter and I "The house was full of company one of the joined. I don't recollect to have heard Sir Wal- evenings of my stay. It was a beautiful moonter on any other occasion attempt to sing. light night, and I walked out with Sir Walter After breakfasting with the poet, we walked over to the terrace towards the Tweed. The thrivto Camberwell, Tom accompanying us. The ing holly hung with the glistening of the moontwo poets recited their verses to each other all beams, and the library which we had left was the walk, and at Camberwell we resorted to the gay with brilliant light and bigh and happy pothouse at which the Camberwell coaches | guests. Everything contributed to inspire me stopped, and had bread and cheese and porter, with a feeling of admiration at Sir Walter's efand there, to the amazement of us all, Scott reforts and success, and merited station and happipeated the whole of the Eastern Lady without ness, and I could not refrain from expressing a fault. It was a surprising effort of memory, that sentiment. I daresay I did so as fervently after the discipline of the night before. This as I did it sincerely. I was thunderstruck when, was corroborated to me by a letter to Cockburn instead of responsive acquiescence, he uttered a on the 21st February in that year, in which I deep sigh, and said, 'I wish to God I had the means of providing adequately for poor Annie.' Knowing that his life was insured, I observed that that fund was ample. He made no explanation, and was silent, but I could not but feel, what a pang I must have inflicted; the fund I had alluded to, and all he had, being absorbed in so overwhelming a pecuniary ruin." detailed the adventure." This anecdote is worthy of preservation, both for its merits and for the light that it throws upon the wonderful powers which Scott possessed. A memory which would enable him to accomplish that feat must have afforded him the means of storing up in his mind, without fear of losing them by time, the words, and incidents, and passages of which he makes use in his writings of fiction. A touching story is told by Lockhart in his Life, which may very fairly be a pendant to the preceding. In the year 1828 Scott met Mrs. Arkwright,with whose singing of her own music he was greatly charmed, and says in his Diary : vaga "It is of the highest order; no forced ries of the voice, no caprices of tone, but all telling upon and increasing the feeling the words required. This is marrying music to immortal verse; most people place them on separate maintenance." In a note to that passage Mr. Lockhart serves: ་ Among other songs, Mrs. Arkwright lighted Sir Walter with her own set of'Farewell! farewell! the voice you hear Has left its last soft tone with you, Its next must join the seaward cheer, de when his misfortunes were soon after disclosed, Richardson was from the first in the secret of the Waverley Novels, and excepting Waverley, received copies of all of them from Sir Walter himself. We have already mentioned that his anecdotes of his ancestor Roland, the hero of Bothwell Brig, had suggested to Scott several of the passages in Old Mortality. Most of our readers will recollect Callum Beg's assertion that Sunday never came above the Pass of Bally-Brough. Richardson gives us the origin of this story : peated to him of the restoration by Rob Roy of "He did in part use the story which I rethe cattle to Mr. Graham of Mugdock, by adoptob-ing the phrase of Sunday never coming beyond the Pass of Ballamaha.' Graham paid Rob black-mail, but his cattle were nevertheless stolen. He proceeded with his son to Inversnaid to reclaim them and reproach Rob. Rob acknowledged the justice of his complaint, and at once ordered restoration of the cattle. A stout Highlander and Grahamn and his son And shout among the shouting crew." started on their way to Mugdock on a Saturday He was sitting by me, at some distance from of October. They were overtaken by a frosty the lady, and whispered, as she closed, Capital night on the muir. The Highlander at once words! Whose are they? Byron's, I suppose: made dispositions for passing the night, by pullbut I don't remember them.' He was asto-ing and disposing of a quantity of heather for a nished when I told him that they were in his own Pirate. He seemed pleased at the moment, but said next minute, You have distressed me; if memory goes, all is up with me, for that was always my strong point.' "* bed, but he limited the indulgence of the bed to old Grabam and himself, saying the young man might keep himself warm by walking about and watching the cattle. The elders were accordingly ranged under the plaids, and the youth left to his colder fate. One other anecdote of Scott, related by cold and his fatigue grew, he ventured to lay As the night and the Richardson, we may mention, the more so himself down beside, his father, and he approas he told it to Sir Robert Inglis, who re-printed a portion of the plaid to his shoulder. *Life, vol. vii., p. 129. Luckily he was first awake, for when moruing dawned the hirsute Highlander was disco vered partially exposed, and his hairy limbs glit- How true this is appears from the corretering with cran-reugh (hoar-frost), but on spondence contained in Dr. Beattie's three waking, all the moan he made was to rub him- volumes. It is into Richardson's ears that self with his two hands, exclaiming, Oich! he pours the intensity of his feelings, and the oich!' They resumed their journey on the Sunday, and when in the course of the day a pack sorrows of his heart, from the time when he of black-cock crossed their path, the Highlander was in trouble from having kicked a priest at once fired upon them, and made a prize of in a Transylvanian convent, down to his last some of the birds. Old Graham turned upon fatal illness. To him he confided his tribulahim in great indignation, and asked how he tions; to him he read his poetry. His taste dared so to profane the Sabbath-day, to which was the mirror by which he fashioned and the Highlander's answer was, Hont, hout, Sab-judged his handiwork ere he trusted it to the bath never comes ayont the Pass of Ballamaha.'' We have extracted these anecdotes, which must be interesting to all readers, both from their intrinsic merit and as illustrative of the friendship between the men. Richardson recounts in another place how, on a visit to Abbotsford, Scott gave him the proof-sheets of the first volume of Old Mortality to read, and how he lost a night's sleep in the service. The last time that the friends met previously to the sad occasion to which we have already referred, was in 1830, when Sir Walter walked with his friend through his plantations at Kirklands, delighting him by his knowledge of woodcraft, and when he ended by presenting him with his own pruningknife, which, after having had various facsimiles made for his friends, he preserved as a precious relic and an heirloom for his family. With Campbell Mr. Richardson's relations were as enduring, and even more intimate; and in Dr. Beattie's Life of the Poet many of his letters to Richardson are preserved. Dr. Beattie mentions at p. 229 of the first volume of Campbell's Life:-. "His intimacy with Mr. Richardson at this period (1811) was one of the fortunate circunstances of the poet's life. To its influence in cheering him under depression, in stimulating his literary industry, and in rendering faithful advice, and certainly under many difficult circumstances, frequent testimony is found in his letters. It is pleasing to add, that during the long period of forty-six years, the friendship between Campbell and Richardson suffered no interruption. It is recorded in the poet's first pilgrimage to Germany, and in his last correspondence from Algiers; and Mr. Richardson was one of the few early friends who had the melancholy satisfaction of attending his remains to their last resting-place in Westminster Abbey." Scott was Richardson's senior by seven years, and was a mature man of nearly thirty when he first formed his friendship with the lad of twenty. With Campbell his intimacy was still closer, but their relative position was somewhat different. Richardson was the stronger and more reliable of the two; and throughout the whole, and too chequered career of the poet, Richardson was the anchor by which he moored his drifting ship. public. Together they conned over the manuscript of Gertrude of Wyoming, and Richardson even wrote two stanzas in introduction to the Third Canto, which the poet apparently had accepted, but to which Horner's taste demurred. Richardson came to be convinced that Horner was right, and says so in his MS. "Horner does not like them," he wrote to Campbell, "though he does Miss Ullin." They did not appear. Nothing can be more admirable, nothing more creditable to the kindness of his affections and the strength of his character, than the part which he filled towards the poet throughout the whole of their long intercourse. They were very differently placed after a few years had gone over their heads. Campbell was famous, and usually in difficulties; Richardson successful and easy, in the diligent, but unaspiring prosecution of his profession. Fêted and flattered by the great, the lion of the most select circles of London, Campbell groaned under the res angusta domi; the pressure of slender means and other domestie sorrows, pursued his brilliant reputation. Never, in all their intercourse, did his social success blunt the bright edge of the poet's affection to his early friend; and as little did the engrossing cares of professional labour, or the perpetual and harassing discomforts of his correspondent, poured without intermission into his willing ear, wear out for a moment Richardson's constant and sunny sympathy, or produce the slightest infusion of impatience or fatigue. In sun or shade, in success and in adversity, Campbell always turned for encouragement and counsel to the friend of his college days, and found his heart as young, and his feelings as tender me. Crabbe was the only other guest. I was appointed to the foot of the table, and to do the hospitalities; and when the ladies went to the drawing-room I did the honours of the excellent wine, which the kind Dr. Baillie usually provided to his sisters, as became. Crabbe was delightful with his memories of Burke and Sir Joshua Reynolds, etc., and made it a very happy after noon. When we joined the ladies, we found Miss Hoare, our neighbour, had come to tea, and I recollect the surprise of all, when the near sound of a kiss was heard; it was T. C. kissing the band of the elder poet, calling him this 'dear old man.'" We here for a moment interrupt the one. may circumstances of Richardson's relations with Campbell, to resume for a little the thread of our biographical account. Although, at least in his own modest description of his pursuits, study of the severer branches of literature was not the bent of his inclination, he too was a votary of the Muses; and although he says that he afterwards discovered that he was no poet, he was very nearly becoming A volume of Burns, which he had accidentally picked up, fired him with the love of song. This was at a date previous to the commencement of the century. For a time he devoted himself studiously to the prosecution of his newly-discovered gift, and indeed so far cultivated it with success, that he assisted George Thomson in his edition of the Scottish Melodies, and added stanzas to a good many of the songs. The few illustrations which we propose to give of his versifying powers are by no means intended to exalt him to any great poetical height. They probably do not rank higher than pleasing vers de société, according to the style and manners of these times. They indicate, however, the pensive and delicate fancy which wis his great characteristic, a well-modulated ear for rhythm, and a genuine love of the art; and perhaps had Themis not claimed him as her disciple, he might ultimately have proved no unworthy votary of the Nine. The few occasional verses which he wrote are for the most part scattered among his friends in manuscript, little having been published by him. A poem on the Field of Grütli, contributed to Campbell's New Monthly Magazine; one or two sonnets, written in his later days, and printed in Notes and Queries; and the verses which he added in Thomson's Collection, being, as far as we know, all of his composition which ever appeared in print. Dr. Beattie mentions, at page 228 of the volume we have already referred to, that James Grahame, the author of The Sabbath, Campbell, and Richardson happened, while walking with a party of ladies on Arthur Seat, to have a stanza of Richardson's in his pocket, and read it to the ladies, pretending it was by Burns, and omitted by Dr. Currie in the bard's life,-a walk which was memorable for the subject of our Memoir, as it led to his introduction to his fature wife, Miss Hill, who was a cousin of Campbell's. The stanza was one added by Richardson to the poem commencing "Oh! were my love yon lilac fair," the first stanza of which was by Burns, and the second ancient. The interjected stanza by Richardson is the following: "Oh! were my love yon violet sweet, That peeps frae 'neath the bawthorn spray, And I myself the zephyr's breath, Amang its bonnie leaves to play, I'd fan it wi' a constant gale, Beneath the noon-tide's scorching ray, And sprinkle it with freshest dews At morning dawn and parting day." This stanza was printed in George Thomson's Collection. There was, however, another one added by Richardson, as we find from a manuscript copy furnished by a friend, which was as follows: "And when the autumn's deadly blast Should strew its withered leaflets round, As virtue blossoms in the tomb." Of these fugitive pieces the following is not without elegance, although similar ideas have sometimes occurred to other people: I. "Her features speak the warmest heart, II. "In that dear drop I have no share, III. "Not fancy's happiest hours create IV. "But ah! farewell this treacherous theme Which, though 'tis misery to forego, Yields yet of joy the soothing cream That grief like mine thou ne'er shalt know." After fulfilling his time as a Writer to the Signet, he made an excursion to the Continent. It had been originally arranged that he and Campbell were to have gone together, but Campbell grew impatient and started by Great Patriot, canonized whilst thou art, A soul, a voice, an intellect designed himself. This was in the year 1800. He found, however, the war and his solitude rendered his stay on the Danube uncomfortable, and he came to Hamburg, where there were a number of expatriated Irish, and there be wrote the poem of the "Exile of Erin," and made the acquaintance of the "Exile" himself, which continued for many years. Richardson meanwhile had proceeded to London, and after remaining there for two months, embarked in June 1801 for Germany, and walked from Göttingen with Dr. Headlam through the Hartz Forest. If we may judge from an MS. Ode to his Flute, which has been preserved, his skill on that instrument bad served to beguile and enliven that continental tour. We quote a few lines of it, more to illustrate the cast of thought and tone of mind which it indicates, than for the purpose of attributing to them any peculiar poetical merit. They are smooth, sweet, and plea-"Bright o'er Italia's land the sunbeams play, sant: "When throngh Hercynian forests deep I stray'd, Yes! doubly dear thy magic power I found The two stanzas which, as we have already remarked, were intended to be prefixed to the Third Canto of Gertrude of Wyoming, which was published shortly after the death of Fox, have been preserved. Without questioning Horner's judgment on them, we give them to the reader, thinking it no discredit, even to a greater poet than Richardson, that they should not have been thought worthy of the place for which they were destined: "In vain, as with a comet's warning fire, Did Chatham's genius o'er his country burn, The most ambitious, and, as we think, the best of his poems which has been preserved, is the sonnet on the Field of Grütli, already referred to. The lines are the following: the field of GRÜTLI. And lake, and plain, and palace float in light; Silvering her domes, all silent as the grave. And dreamt till Fancy from the Gulphs of yore So thrilled, as when the dark Waldstetter sea To Grü li's field, where when the o'erhanging tower Of Salisberg at midnight still had flung With muffled oar-and they of Unterwald The cynosure of freedom kindled there: No; while my memory lasts, my life-pulse No other scene can e'er again excite With which I gazed, green Grütli, on thy And those subline and glacier'd peaks around, hoar, And drank of that pure rill which glads thy On the continental tour to the Rhine, Richardson made the acquaintance of Charles, afterwards Sir Charles Vaughan, then travelling Fellow of All-Souls, and author of the Siege of Zaragoça: and with him visited Paris in 1801. He saw Bonaparte, then First Consul, pass through an anteroom in the Louvre on his way to a review in the Place Carousel, and the motion of the two Englishmen taking off their hats attracted the attention of the great man, who noticed them by a half-smile. He also mentions that on this visit to Paris he dined in the house of the Senator Barthélemy, nephew of the author of Anacharsis. "Lord Lansdowne was there. I sat next to B. Constant, who had studied in Edinburgh, and had been a visitor at Niddry." Returning to Edinburgh in 1802, with the at that time rare recommendation of continental travel, he was at once admitted into the best and most intellectual society of Edinburgh. He numbered among his friends, Dugald Stewart, Playfair, Alison, Thomas Thomson, Henry Mackenzie, Horner, Murray,, Clerk, Thomas Brown, Lord Webb Seymour, Sir James Hall, Sydney Smith; in short, he was made free of that notable fraternity, and being elected a member of the Friday Club, his ambition, as he says, was more than satisfied. Highland expeditions with Cockburn, the charms of a circle never surpassed in wit, conversation, or intellect, and moderate professional occupation, made his stream flow pleasantly and placidly, without wish for change. and very happy years they seem to have to the Signet. Between the time he went to been, engaged in the profession of a Writer college and 1806, he had seen the germinating of those great abilities, the maturity of which was to bear such fruit, and at the end Scott had published The Lay of the Last of the period the fruit itself was appearing. Minstrel; Campbell had stormed the heights of poetical reputation by the Pleasures of Hope. Brougham and Horner had both commenced their career in London, and already were designated as men whose course tation. The Edinburgh Review, the work was to be watched with interest and expecentirely of his college companions, had become a power in Europe. The knot of secured by merit and congenial tastes, were young men whose friendship he had so early in all directions raising a solid fabric of reputation, and shedding lustre on their country and their times. professional prospects in Edinburgh slender, Richardson seems to have thought his of James Brougham that he should migrate and yielded not unwillingly to a suggestion mentary Solicitor. Thither Brougham, Horto London, and try his fortune as a Parlianer, Allen, and Campbell had previously repaired, and thither also with a heavy heart he resolved to go. He had come to Edinburgh a comparatively solitary lad; he was now to leave it, and to part with a circle of friends as distinguished and attached as man could wish to find. In January, 1806, James Grahame, Cockburn, and Jeffrey accompanied him to Leith, and thence, with a sorrowful heart, he went by mail to London. Richardson's departure:Cockburn, in his Memorials, thus chronicles "John Richardson was the last of the association who was devoured by hungry London. rated privately and publicly with all that is This was in 1806. But he has been incorpoworthy in Edinburgh, and inuch that is worthy Scotchman in London ever stood higher in personal or professional character. The few verses he has published, like almost all he has written, are in the style of simple and pensive literary subjects and men would certainly have elegance. His early and steady addiction to made literature his vocation, had he not foreseen its tortures and precariousness when relied on for subsistence. But though drudging in the depths of the law, this toil has always been graced by the cultivation of letters, and by the cordial friendship of the most distinguished men It was at this time, when a frequenter of the great Temple sacred to Justice and Gossip, of which Edinburgh boasts-the Par-in London throughout his whole life. No liament House-that he composed a parody on Scott's Helvellyn, the fame of which has been embalmed in the hearts of the frequenters of the Outer House, and made his name distinguished among all its denizens for the time, from the President to the macers. Its allusions are too local for general readers; but Richardson's forensic fame in Edinburgh rested so much on the reputation of having been the author of this effusion, that for the benefit of the sons of the Caledonian Themis we give it in a note, with a commentary by a hand that our readers cannot fail to re⚫cognise.* of the age. Swallowed in the abyss of the metropolis, it was not for several years that he could Richardson had now been several years, reconcile himself to the change. One friend *See Note, page 256. * Cockburn's Memorials, p. 182. |