112 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



"The volume gets on tolerably. Page 250 has gone to press 

 this day. All the manuscript is in Ballantyne's hands. He thiuks 

 the volume would not be the worse of being 450 pages. In that 

 case, would you wish the lines on Grahame to be included ? Fer- 

 gusson, Cranstoun, and Glassford think them better than any thing 

 Grahame himself has written. The Eclectic is favorable enough, 

 but stupid enough too ! Who, in writing an elegy, would give a 

 critical dissertation on a poem ? The motto is a good one, and the 

 punctuation excellent, except in two cases, which do not destroy the 

 sense. 



" Walter Scott talks to me in great terms of what he has seen of 

 the 'Isle.'* The elder Ballantyne is in raptures, and prophesies 

 great popularity. Considerable expectations are formed here among 

 the blues of both sexes, and I am whirled into the vortex of fash- 

 ion here in consequence. 



" I shall say nothing to any one of the dedication. Send Mr. 

 M'Latchie a copy of the ' Lines,' ' with the author's affectionate re- 

 gard,' and one to Mr. Gill with my ' respectful compliments.' 



" You ought certainly to come here before the publication, and 

 soon, to arrange every thing. I think we shall attract some attention." 



A little glimpse of the life at 53 Queen street, and the pleasant 

 footing subsisting between the relatives gathered there, is afforded 

 in a note of young Mrs. Wilson's about this time to her sister. She 

 thanks " Peg" for her note, which, she says, " was sacred to myself. 

 It is not my custom, you may tell her, to show my letters to John.' 1 

 She goes on to speak of Edinburgh society, dinners and evening 

 parties, and whom she most likes. The Rev. Mr. Morehead is 

 " a great favorite ;" Mr. Jeffrey is a " horrid little man," but 

 " held in as high estimation here as the Bible." Mrs. Wilson, se- 

 nior, gives a ball, and 150 people are invited. " The girls are look- 

 ing forward to it with great delight. Mrs. Wilson is very nice 

 with them, and lets them ask anybody they like. There is not the 

 least restraint put upon them. John's poems will be sent from here 

 next week. The large size is a guinea, and the small one twelve 

 shillings," 



* Sir Walter, writing to Miss Joanna Baillie about this time, says: — "The author of the elegy 

 upon poor Grahame is John Wilson, a young man of very considerable poetical powers. He is 

 now engaged upon a poem called the ' Isle of Palms,' something in the style of Southey. He is 

 an eccentric genius, and has fixed himself on the banks of Windermere, but occasionally resides 

 In Edinburgh, where he now is. He seems an excellent, warm-hearted, and enthusiastic young 

 man: something too much, perhaps, of the latter quality, places him among the list of originals." 



