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THREE:The distinguished poets still thronging the close of this period would require voluminous space to particularise their works: the vigorous and classic Savage Landor; the graceful, genial Leigh Hunt; Charles Lamb, quaint and piquant; Rogers, lover equally of art and nature; John Wilson, tender, but somewhat diffuse; Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, linked in perpetual memory with his "Kilmeny" and the "Bird of the Wilderness;" Allan Cunningham; MacNeill; Grahame, author of "The Sabbath;" James Montgomery, amongst the very few successful poets of religion; Tennant, author of "Anster Fair;" Kirke White, Sotheby, Maturin, Procter (Barry Cornwall), Milman, Joanna Baillie, Miss Mitford, Mrs. Hemans, Mrs. Howitt, Richard Howitt, Elliott the Corn-Law Rhymer, whose most beautiful poems had been for twenty years steadily ignored by the whole English press, till they were accidentally discovered by Sir John Bowring.Sir Walter Scott has, perhaps, left the most permanent traces behind him. We have on many occasions mentioned this illustrious writer; perhaps this is a fitting time to speak more in detail of his career. He was born, in 1771, of a very respectable family, at Edinburgh. He began his career as an author while very young; his earlier publications, though not successful in a pecuniary way, were greatly admired by good judges; and his undoubted talents, as well as his family connections, introduced him to men high in rank, whose influence became valuable to him, and also to the most distinguished literary characters of the time. His appointment as sheriff-depute of Selkirkshire, by securing him a competent income, while its duties demanded but little of his time, enabled him to devote himself to his favourite pursuits; and his resources were further augmented by a small patrimony which he obtained at the death of his father, and by property he received with the lady whom he married. At this period he produced several poems, some of which were of considerable length, and he acquired a large amount of celebrity. "Marmion" appeared in 1808, and "The Lady of the Lake" in 1810. His income from various sources became, after some time, very considerable; and happy would it have been for him had he been content with it. But ambition, of which he had long shown symptoms, became a master passion, and he yielded fatally to its influence. To hasten the acquisition of wealth, as a means of adding to the consequence and importance of his family, which was the dream of his life, he became a partner in a large publishing firm, which afterwards involved him in its ruin, and whose liabilities swallowed up the profits of a most successful career. The demands which it continually made on his resources compelled him to undertake literary drudgery, in addition to his ordinary labours; and the magnitude of the enterprises filled him with continual anxiety. His time was unremittingly occupied: from 1815 to 1825 he vanished, indeed, from public view; yet he was never more thoroughly employed. "Waverley" made its appearance in 1814; but the name of the writer was, for some time, involved in impenetrable mystery. Its success was unexampled, and it was followed by many similar productions. When the hour of Sir Walter Scott's seemingly greatest prosperity had arrived, and his most sanguine expectations[437] appeared to be nearly realised, the crash came. The firm of which he had so long been a secret partner stopped payment; this event, besides entailing upon him immense pecuniary loss, inflicted a deep wound on his feelings by proclaiming to the world his connection with mercantile speculations. His conduct upon this trying occasion was, however, in accordance with his whole life; he refused to avail himself of any legal technicalities for the purpose of diminishing his responsibilities; and he not only gave up to the creditors of the concern with which he was so unfortunately connected all he then possessed, but devoted the energies of the remainder of his life to make up the large deficit that still remained. He afterwards realised the enormous sum of ��40,000 by his writings, and shortly after his death his debts were paid in full by his executors. But his exertions had been too much for him; he became ultimately a wreck both in body and mind; every effort to recover health was in vain; the last few months of his life passed with very rare intervals of consciousness; and he expired, it may be said, prematurely, in the sixty-first year of his age. He ranks high as a poet, but far higher as the discoverer of a new world of fiction; in describing which, however numerous those who attempt to follow the course which he pursued, he is little likely ever to have a successful rival. He died in 1832, and so belongs more properly to the reign of George III.

THREE:Carleton being, by the beginning of June, reinforced by still more troops from England, determined to follow the Americans. They had reached the Three Rivers, about midway between Quebec and Montreal, and about thirty miles from the American headquarters on the Sorel, when General Sullivan, who had succeeded Thomas, sent two thousand men under General Thompson. They got across the river and hoped to surprise the English; but it was daylight before they drew near the Three Rivers. Landing with confusion, they sought a place where they could form and defend themselves; but they found themselves entangled in a labyrinth of streams and morasses. Then they were attacked, front and rear, by Generals Fraser and Nesbit. In the suddenness of the surprise, no precaution had been taken to secure or destroy their boats; the remainder of the Americans, therefore, getting into them, pulled away and crossed. Sullivan, who had hastened to support them, now, accompanied by St. Clair, made the best of his way back to Fort Chambly. Carleton pursued, but coming to the Sorel, instead of sailing up it, by which he might have reached Chambly nearly a day earlier than Sullivan, with a strange neglect he continued lying at the mouth of the river for a couple of days. Had he not done this, Arnold would have been intercepted at Montreal, and Ticonderoga, now defenceless, would have fallen into his hands. By this false step much damage to the king's cause ensued. Carleton, however, determined to seek out Arnold himself, and sent on General Burgoyne in pursuit of Sullivan. Burgoyne made quick pursuit; but the Americans were too nimble for both himself and Carleton. Arnold hastily evacuated Montreal, and, crossing the river, joined Sullivan at St. John's, on the Sorel. There Sullivan proposed to make a stand, but his troops would not support him, for the whole army was in a state of insubordination. Burgoyne marched rapidly after them; but, on reaching the head of the Sorel, he found they had escaped him by embarking on the lake. Sullivan and Arnold had encamped on the Isle aux Noix, a swampy place, where their men perished, many of them, of fever, and Burgoyne was obliged to satisfy himself with the thought that they were driven out of Canada.A few sketches of the state of the population given by the agents of the Relief Committee of the Society of Friends, who exerted themselves nobly in relieving the distress, may help to give us a more vivid impression of the horrors of the famine. At Boyle they found numbers that had eaten nothing but cabbages or turnips for weeks. The children were in a condition of starvation, ravenous with hunger. At Carrick-on-Shannon a most painful and heartrending scene presented itself: poor wretches in the last stage of famine, imploring to be received into the house; women that had six or seven children begging that even two or three of them might be taken in, as their husbands were earning but eightpence a day. Famine was written in their faces. On bread being given to some of these poor creatures, many of them devoured it with ravenous voracity. But the mothers restrained themselves, and carried home portions to their children. The famine produced a peculiar effect on the appearance of the young. Their faces looked wan and haggard, seeming like old men and women, with an extraordinary sharpness of expression; they had lost all their natural sprightliness, making no attempt to play. In the crowded workhouses their bedding consisted of dirty straw, in which they were laid in rows on the floor, even as many as six persons being crowded under one rug��the living and the dying stretched side by side beneath the same miserable covering. The town of Westport was in itself a strange and fearful sight, like what we read of in beleaguered cities; its streets crowded with gaunt wanderers, sauntering to and fro with hopeless air and hunger-struck appearance; a mob of starved, almost naked women around the poor-house, clamouring for soup-tickets.

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