"Tales of Wonder;" and, about the same period, wrote several ballads for the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border." The dissertation on "Fairy Superst.i.tion," in the second volume of the latter work, slightly altered by Scott, proceeded from his pen. In 1802, he edited a small volume, ent.i.tled, "Scottish Descriptive Poems," consisting of a new edition of Wilson's "Clyde," and a reprint of "Albania,"--a curious poem, in blank verse, by an anonymous writer of the beginning of the eighteenth century.

A wide circle of influential friends were earnestly desirous of his promotion. In 1800, the opposition of the aged inc.u.mbent prevented his appointment as a.s.sistant and successor in the ministerial charge of his native parish. A proposal to appoint him Professor of Rhetoric in the University of Edinburgh also failed. He now resolved to proceed to Africa, to explore the interior, under the auspices of the African a.s.sociation; but some of his friends meanwhile procured him an appointment as a surgeon in the East India Company's establishment at Madras. During his course at the University, he had attended some of the medical cla.s.ses; and he now resumed the study of medicine, with such an amount of success, that in six weeks he qualified himself for a surgeon's diploma. About the same time, the degree of M.D. was conferred on him by the University of St Andrews.

Before his departure for the East, Leyden finished his longest poem, the "Scenes of Infancy," the publication of which he entrusted to his friend, Dr Thomas Brown. His last winter in Britain he pa.s.sed in London, enjoying the society of many distinguished men of letters, to whom he was introduced by his former friend, Mr Richard Heber. He sailed for India[95] on the 7th April 1803, and arrived at Madras on the 19th August. In Hindostan, his talents and extraordinary capabilities in forming an acquaintance with the native tongues gained him numerous friends. He was successively appointed surgeon to the commissioners for surveying the provinces in Mysore, recently conquered from Tippoo Sultan; professor of Hindostan in the College of Calcutta; judge of the twenty-four pargunnahs of Calcutta; a commissioner of the Court of Requests in Calcutta; and a.s.say-master of the mint. His literary services being required by the Governor-General, he left Calcutta for Madras, and afterwards proceeded along with the army in the expedition against Java. On the capture of the town of Batavia, having gone to examine the library of the place, in which he expected to find some curious Indian MSS., he caught a malignant fever from the tainted air of the apartment. He survived only three days, terminating a life of much promise, on the 28th of August 1811, in the thirty-sixth year of his age.

In John Leyden an unconquerable perseverance was united to remarkable native genius, and a memory of singular retentiveness. Eminent as a linguist, he was an able and accurate philologist; in a knowledge of the many languages of India he stood unrivalled. During his residence in the East, he published a "Dissertation on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese Nations," in the tenth volume of the "Asiatic Researches," and he left numerous MSS. on subjects connected with oriental learning. He was early a votary of the Muse; and, in youth, was familiar with the older Scottish bards. In April 1795, he appeared in the _Edinburgh Literary Magazine_ as author of an elegy "On the Death of a Sister;" and subsequently became a regular contributor of verses to the periodicals of the capital. His more esteemed poetical productions are the "Scenes of Infancy," and the ballads which he composed for the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border." Of the latter, the supernatural machinery is singularly striking; in the former poem, much smooth and elegant versification is combined with powerful and vigorous description. There are, indeed, occasional repet.i.tions and numerous digressions; but amidst these marks of hasty composition, every sentence bears evidence of a masculine intellect and powerful imagination. His lyrical effusions are pervaded with simplicity and tenderness.

Like some other sons of genius, Leyden was of rather eccentric habits.

He affected to despise artificial manners; and, though frequenting polished circles in Edinburgh, then in London, and afterwards in Madras and Calcutta, he persevered in an indomitable aversion to the use of the English tongue, which he so well knew how to write with precision and power. He spoke the broadest provincial Scotch with singular pertinacity. His voice was extremely dissonant, but, seemingly unconscious of the defect, he talked loud; and if engaged in argument, raised his voice to a pitch which frequently proved more powerful than the strength of his reasoning. He was dogmatical in maintaining his opinions, and p.r.o.ne to monopolise conversation; his gesticulations were awkward and even offensive. Peculiar as were his habits, few of the distinguished persons who sought his acquaintance ever desired to renounce his friendship.[96] In his domestic habits, he was temperate often to abstinence; he was frugal, but not mean--careful, but not penurious. He was generous towards his aged parents; was deeply imbued with a sense of religion, and was the foe of vice in every form. He was of a slight figure, and of middle stature; his countenance was peculiarly expressive of intelligence. His hair was auburn, his eyes dark, and his complexion clear and sanguine. He was considerably robust, and took delight in practising gymnastics; he desired fame, not less for feats of running and leaping, than in the sedate pursuits of literature.

His premature death was the subject of general lamentation; in the "Lord of the Isles," Scott introduced the following stanza in tribute to his memory:--

"His bright and brief career is o'er, And mute his tuneful strain; Quench'd is his lamp of varied lore, That loved the light of song to pour; A distant and a deadly sh.o.r.e Has Leyden's cold remains."

[94] We lately visited the spot. Not a vestige of the cottage remains. A wilder and more desolate locality hardly ever nourished the youthful imagination of a poet.

[95] Leyden was a.s.sisted in his outfit for India by Sir Walter Scott and Sydney Smith, the latter contributing forty pounds. (See "Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith," by his daughter, Lady Holland, vol. i. p. 21.

London: 1855. 2 vols. 8vo.)

[96] Thomas Campbell was one of Leyden's early literary friends; they had quarrelled, but continued to respect each other's talents. The following anecdote is recorded by Sir Walter Scott in his diary:--"When I repeated 'Hohenlinden' to Leyden, he said, 'Dash it, man, tell the fellow that I hate him; but, dash him, he has written the finest verses that have been published these fifty years.' I did mine errand as faithful as one of Homer's messengers, and had for answer:--'Tell Leyden that I detest him, but I know the value of his critical approbation.'"--_Lockhart's Life of Scott._

ODE TO THE EVENING STAR.

How sweet thy modest light to view, Fair star! to love and lovers dear; While trembling on the falling dew, Like beauty shining through a tear.

Or hanging o'er that mirror-stream, To mark that image trembling there, Thou seem'st to smile with softer gleam, To see thy lovely face so fair.

Though, blazing o'er the arch of night, The moon thy timid beams outshine As far as thine each starry light, Her rays can never vie with thine.

Thine are the soft, enchanting hours When twilight lingers on the plain, And whispers to the closing flowers That soon the sun will rise again.

Thine is the breeze that, murmuring bland As music, wafts the lover's sigh, And bids the yielding heart expand In love's delicious ecstasy.

Fair star! though I be doom'd to prove That rapture's tears are mix'd with pain, Ah, still I feel 'tis sweet to love-- But sweeter to be loved again.

THE RETURN AFTER ABSENCE.

Oh! the breeze of the mountain is soothing and sweet, Warm breathing of love, and the friends we shall meet; And the rocks of the desert, so rough when we roam, Seem soft, soft as silk, on the dear path of home; The white waves of the Jeikon, that foam through their speed, Seem scarcely to reach to the girth of my steed.

Rejoice, O Bokhara, and flourish for aye!

Thy King comes to meet thee, and long shall he stay.

Our King is our moon, and Bokhara our skies, Where soon that fair light of the heavens shall arise-- Bokhara our orchard, the cypress our king, In Bokhara's fair orchard soon destined to spring.

LAMENT FOR RAMA.

FROM THE BENGALI.

I warn you, fair maidens, to wail and to sigh, For Rama, our Rama, to greenwood must fly; Then hasten, come hasten, to see his array, Ayud'hya is dark when our chief goes away.

All the people are flocking to see him pa.s.s by; They are silent and sad, with the tear in their eye: From the fish in the streamlets a broken sigh heaves, And the birds of the forest lament from the leaves.

His fine locks are matted, no raiment has he For the wood, save a girdle of bark from the tree; And of all his gay splendour, you nought may behold, Save his bow and his quiver, and ear-rings of gold.

Oh! we thought to have seen him in royal array Before his proud squadrons his banners display, And the voice of the people exulting to own Their sovereign a.s.suming the purple and crown; But the time has gone by, my hope is despair,-- One maiden perfidious has wrought all my care.

Our light is departing, and darkness returns, Like a lamp half-extinguished, and lonely it burns; Faith fades from the age, nor can honour remain, And fame is delusive, and glory is vain.

JAMES SCADLOCK.

James Scadlock, a poet of considerable power, and an a.s.sociate of Tannahill, was born at Paisley on the 7th October 1775. His father, an operative weaver, was a person of considerable shrewdness; and the poet M'Laren, who became his biographer, was his uterine brother. Apprenticed to the loom, he renounced weaving in the course of a year, and thereafter was employed in the establishment of a bookbinder. At the age of nineteen he entered on an indenture of seven years to a firm of copperplate engravers at Ferenize. He had early been inclined to verse-making, and, having formed the acquaintance of Tannahill, he was led to cultivate with ardour his native predilection. He likewise stimulated his ingenious friend to higher and more ambitious efforts in poetry. Accomplished in the elegant arts of drawing and painting, Scadlock began the study of cla.s.sical literature and the modern languages. A general stagnation of trade, which threw him out of employment, checked his aspirations in learning. After an interval attended with some privations, he heard of a professional opening at Perth, which he proceeded to occupy. He returned to Paisley, after the absence of one year; and having married in 1808, his attention became more concentrated in domestic concerns. He died of fever on the 4th July 1818, leaving a family of four children.

Scadlock was an upright member of society, a sincere friend, a benevolent neighbour, and an intelligent companion. In the performance of his religious duties he was regular and exemplary. Desirious of excelling in conversation, he was p.r.o.ne to evince an undue formality of expression. His poetry, occasionally deficient in power, is uniformly distinguished for smoothness of versification.

ALONG BY LEVERN STREAM SO CLEAR.[97]

Along by Levern stream so clear, When Spring adorns the infant year, And music charms the list'ning ear, I 'll wander with my Mary, My bonny blooming Mary; Not Spring itself to me is dear, When absent from my Mary.

When Summer's sun pours on my head His sultry rays, I 'll seek the shade, Unseen upon a primrose bed I 'll sit with little Mary, My bonny blooming Mary, Where fragrant flowers around are spread, To charm my little Mary.

She 's mild 's the sun through April shower That glances on the leafy bower, She 's sweet as Flora's fav'rite flower, My bonny little Mary, My blooming little Mary; Give me but her, no other dower I 'll ask with little Mary.

Should fickle fortune frown on me, And leave me bare 's the naked tree, Possess'd of her, how rich I 'd be, My lovely little Mary, My bonny blooming Mary; From gloomy care and sorrow free, I 'd ever keep my Mary.

[97] Set to music by R. A. Smith.