of which he was never unmindful to show his acknowledgment, when they occurred to him, for it is necessary to premise this. From his habit of abstraction, he often stood in need of a flapper. No one was more ready to do what was kind, agreeable, or useful to others, than he was, but his omissions at times gave ground to those who did not know his way, for the supposition that his neglects were wilful. This was not the fact; no man existing had a better heart, or was more ready to perform a friendly action. He spoke, too, in the kindest manner of Dugald Stewart, who was one of his first Edinburgh acquaintance. In referring to Stewart's works, and his account of the "Life and Writings of Dr. Reid," who had christened the poet, he said that the profound character of Stewart's writings on the "Philosophy of the Human Mind," he felt almost too much for him, that it was a continued object of his admiration; that his theory of mind was wonderful; that he was one of the greatest men Scotland ever produced in his estimation. "He was one of my best and earliest friends, too," said Campbell, "whom it is not possible for me to forget. He gave me rules for thinking, and much excellent advice." It is not to be supposed that Dugald Stewart was of much assistance to Campbell in the composition of poetry. Dr. Anderson, whose acquirements were more directed to judge works of an imaginative character, not merely to criticise, but to suggest and prompt improvements was his main aid. Dr. Anderson lived in John-street, Edinburgh, and thither Campbell used to carry his alterations and additions, in manuscript, to receive the judgments which were often to renew corrections and alterations. To the united attention of both author and critic was the poem ultimately indebted for its perfection. It was read and re-read, and the result was proportional to the pains which had been taken. The sale of this lasting monument of taste and poetical excellence affords a very high idea of the literary public of that day. "The Pleasures of Hope" appeared in the author's twenty-second year, in the month of May, 1799. The poet had sojourned in Edinburgh at that time about seven or eight months, and he had acquired during his residence the friendship of every distinguished individual in the University. Referring to "The Pleasures of Hope," one day, the poet asked a friend which he preferred, that or the "Gertrude." Upon the reply that the last was the preferable poem, although there were passages in "The Pleasures of Hope" that were superior to any in his "Gertrude," he said, "I am glad you agree with me. I prefer Gertrude' myself." It was thought that in composing the "Pleasures of Hope" he completed the sections separately, but not in the order in which they now appear. This was the most facile mode, as there is no continuous story, the poem being didactical. He said that it was composed much in that way. Each attribute or invocation being sometimes continuous in sense, and sometimes not with the paragraph which follows, he could thus compose, then select and arrange, as his taste or fancy might dictate. When a new idea came into his mind he could follow it out to completion, and afterwards perfect others that he had begun before and not completed, leaving the work of arrangement to the last. It has been said that the opening lines were intended for the conclusion, and this is very probable. Almost faultless as well as being exquisitely beautiful, the "Pleasures of Hope" has some trivial errors, which on that account appear the more remarkable, and these errors, too, though small, are of a very obvious character. With all the graces of execution and elaborateness of workmanship that they should have escaped both himself and Dr. Anderson, the last so recognised for his critical acumen, is wonderful. The remark was once ventured to him that the introduction of tigers to the shores of Lake Erie On Erie's banks where tigers steal away. was an error that might easily be corrected in future editions. He admitted it was an error, but he would not alter it because it had gone through so many editions. It really was, perhaps, that his pride would not permit him the admission of the error, and that it would be thought he used it being of opinion it was a legitimate poetical licence. When he wrote it he had read little, perhaps, of natural history. Indeed, to the last of his life this was a subject of which he knew next to nothing-out of his line of study altogether. Nine or ten years afterwards he committed similar errors. In the same paragraph, unless the word "curfew" be disconnected from its character and used metonymically, which, perhaps, was the poet's design, he is almost equally unfortunate, as the epithet recals a crime against freedom which the poet could never connect in his mind with the desired advance of Canadian civilisation. In the lines referring to Commodore Byron we find hyenas in South America, equally out of place. But these are only specks on a beautiful disc. What does it matter that in one place for the sake of a rhyme he uses the singular for the plural, or borrows a line with the exception of one word verbatim, unperceived by himself or his critical guide. The poem is so full of the choicest flowers of poetry-it is such a garland of rich odours, and of "colours dipt in heaven," exquisitely arranged, that it becomes us to enjoy the sweets rather than set about discovering here and there a faded leaf that may only set off the gorgeousness of the mass, in a production which it seems difficult to expect will be surpassed, and of the superiority of which there was little doubt of the author's consciousness. There was a high tone of thinking about Campbell. He never spoke of his own poetry but on very rare and unavoidable occasions. His feeling was of the right kind; he experienced that sort of pride which is utterly wanting in the tribe of writers of the hour who act so differently. He had been visiting a vain author one day who displayed upon his drawing-room table a number of elegantly bound books, two or three volumes among which were his own productions. On coming away walking towards home, he said to me:-"Did you observe the works of just now, displayed upon his own table with so much ostentation? it is beneath a writer of merit; if they had been worth sixpence they would not have been perked up under our noses in that way. During the last year or two of his life a qualified exception may be made to this, but no one in his better days possessed so much of that just propriety of feeling which can have no existence except in an organisation of great sensibility, conscious of innate power, fearful of the degradation of its renown through its own actions, ambitious of fame and exceedingly solicitous about the preservation of the place it had attained by the productions of its genius. Telling Campbell on a particular occasion that he had been abused by a party, from whom an attack though of no great importance was somewhat annoying, he replied, "I don't care what they say of me." He appeared to lay a stress upon the last word, indicating "if they do attack me personally they cannot injure the reputation of my poetry-that is secured." The apparently unintentional emphasis on a word will sometimes explain what is passing in the mind, as the key unlocks the latent meaning of the cypher. The various and magnificent range of English poetry presents no example of early excellence to equal the "Pleasures of Hope." The "Vathek" of Beckford, written at the same age, is perhaps, the most striking specimen of early prose writing we possess, coupled too with the fact of its having been written in a foreign language. Both productions are remarkable for bearing marks of the highest possible mental culture. The laborious polish in the verses of the "Pleasures of Hope" are among the best proofs to what an extent the English is capable of being refined, and how far the capabilities of the language will go in that species of poetical composition which can alone be expected to attain in the eyes of true taste a classical and healthful longevity-but to make further comment upon the merit of that which has received the plaudit of the world for half a century would be superfluous and out of place, stamped as it is with the impress of permanent endurance. THE NIGHT IS COME, BELOVED! BY F. A. B. Go forth, beloved, into the dim night, Take thou thy way; oh! cheerless is the dark, A gentle moonlight break in the black sky, A bright hearth blazing through some casement on thee, I listen as the gathering storm doth blow, First faint and far, then deep, and loud, and near, The curtain'd couch, with folded draperies, And pillows soft, invites my drooping brow; Thou art not here, how in that lonely bed Thy thought will haunt me through my wishful sleeping; Shall I not hear thy voice, and then thy tread, And see thee steal from me, and wake with weeping. Good night, good night; oh! that my love might be Oh! that I were but God, that I might see July.-VOL. LXXVII. NO. CCCVII. 2 A IBRAHIM PASHA IN SYRIA. BY W. FRANCIS AINSWORTH, ESQ. I. THE CONQUEST OF SYRIA. MOHAMMAD Ali, born in 1769 at Cavala, took with him to Egypt from his native country one wife, Amina Khanum, who bore him four children, of whom two, viz., Tussun and Ismael Pashas are dead, and two living, viz., Ibrahim Pasha, aged fifty-five years, and Nazly Khanum, widow of the Deftardar Mohammad Bey. Some persons assert that Ibrahim is only the son of Amina by a former marriage, but no statement of the pasha's, who has ever manifested towards Ibrahim the anxious affection of a father, has ever given countenance to this opinion, which is disbelieved by the majority, although there is no doubt that it has obtained so generally as to be a serious obstacle to his authority.* Ibrahim's education was better attended to than his father's, and hence he is a more civilised man. His powers of discrimination are the same, he is equal to him in talent, firmness, and perseverance, and if he has less tact and cunning he possesses more generosity and principle, without any of the sordid avarice and selfish implacability which mark the conduct of Mohammad Ali. His personal courage is so great as to frequently merge into rashness, and this feature in his character has been a frequent source of anxiety to his father, from the fear of his son's being drawn by it into military failures or into some fatal scrape. As a youth, Ibrahim was thoughtless, proud, and cruel. Many anecdotes have been related illustrative of these faults in his character. The most remarkable were his tilting with his jarid, in the square of the Usbakiya, against a number of defenceless English prisoners. This was when eighteen years of age. Others were his practising with his rifle from his window at the leatherskins of the water-carriers as they passed along from the Nile, and the making the prisoners of Missolonghi salt their comrades' ears; but all these are mere reports, and have but a very slender foundation to repose upon. Certain it is that when he returned from his successes in Peninsular Arabia, followed by a band of ignorant ruffians as wild and hot-headed as himself, he was flushed with his victories and ambitious of further military distinction; but the campaign in Greece, which was terminated by the battle of Navarino, taught the impetuous young soldier that Franks and Wahabis were very different persons, and that their system of military tactics was also different; in fact, that he knew little or Upon this subject Dr. Yates, an excellent observer, says, "The likeness to the pasha is too well marked to be mistaken." ("Modern History and Condition of Egypt," vol. ii. p. 108.) Fontanier tells an incredible story of Drovetti, the French consul, having been insulted by Ibrahim, and that to revenge the affront he affirmed over and over again, with such untiring perseverance, that Ibrahim was merely an adopted son of Mohammad Ali, that the assertion gained ground in Europe, and what is of more importance to that prince, was credited by many Mohammadans. nothing of the art of warfare, and had much to learn. He was humbled, and from that time forward he courted the acquaintance of those who had taught him so salutary a lesson, and he carried to a greater extent than ever his father had done the introduction of European officers and European discipline into the Egypto-Syrian armies. Mohammad Ali had made the assistance lent by him to the sultan in the Greek war, and the subjugation of Nubia and Peninsular Arabia, especially of the holy cities (previously held by the Wahabis) a pretext for strong claims upon the Porte. The pashas of Acre and Damascus were at war with one another, and he of Acre was at variance with the sultan himself, without the Osmanlis having it in their power to control either. Mohammad felt himself, to use his own words, "richer, stronger, more powerful than the sultan." He demanded the pashalics of Acre and Damascus. He was refused, and Candia was offered instead. This so angered him that he left the Porte to fight its own battles with Russia, while he prepared for the invasion of Syria. Abdallah Pasha of Acre, had refused to send back certain Arab families that had taken refuge in his territories, and the insurrection of the Christians and Druses, throughout the whole of the mountain districts of Palestine and Syria, called the Egyptians to a country, which from the days of Ptolemy Philometer to those of Mohammad Ali, has been always looked upon (chiefly from the absence of wood in the long valley of the Nile) as a necessary appendage to the establishment of any strong or permanent power in Egypt. Ibrahim Pasha appeared before the walls of Acre on the 27th of November, 1831, at the head of 24,000 men and forty-eight guns, supported by a fleet at sea, which was rendered the more efficient by the presence of a British frigate, under Captain Prissick, while Abdallah Pasha had to oppose these forces, not quite 2000 men. Yet with this small body of troops, he defended the place so resolutely that the greater part of the Egyptian fleet was obliged to return to Alexandria after throwing some 23,000 hollow shot and shells into the devoted city, and Ibrahim Pasha, disgusted at the duratiou of the siege, left 11,000 men before the walls, while with the remainder of the army, reinforced by 12,000 mountaineers and 4000 Bedwins, he scoured the mountains and extended his conquests along the coast by Tyre, Sayda, and Beirut, as far as to Tripoli. The sultan, terrified by the rapidity of these movements, despatched Osman Pasha to raise up the whole Mussulman population against this usurper, as Ibrahim Pasha was designated in the angry manifestoes of the Osmanlis, "of the legitimate authority of the shadow of God on earth;" but one of the pasha's characteristics has always been a sad want of proper respect for such sublime shadows, nor if the report of those intimate with him is to be believed, is he much more particular in regard to realities; the pilgrimage to Mecca or that to Jerusalem having always stood in the same predicament with him, as things to be encouraged for financial reasons only. Ibrahim accordingly hastened to the support Idris Bey, who was opposed to the Turks at Tripoli with an inadequate force, and had been worsted in an affair of little consequence. The approach of Ibrahim was sufficient, the Osmanlis fled precipitately, abandoning artillery and baggage, and the pasha pursued them across the mountains, where he took possession of the town of Homs. Reinforced of |