34:0 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



shower, his genius would grow up and expand into a stately tree, 

 embowering a solemn shade within its wide circumference, and that 

 railUons would confirm his judgment "that Alfred Tennyson is a 

 poet." The young poet, although evidently nettled,* received the 

 criticism in good part, and profited by it. On reading the paper 

 once more, I observe that, with scarcely a single exception, the 

 verses condemned by the critic were omitted or altered in after 

 editions.f 



In June, 1832, my mother writes : — "Mr. Wilson has long and 

 earnestly wished to have a cruise with the experimental squadron, 

 which I believe will sail by the end of this month ; but unfortunately 

 he was late in applying to Sir P. Malcolm." 



In July he left home for the purpose of joining the squadron, and 

 the result of his naval experience will be found in the following 

 communications sent from time to time to Mrs. Wilson : 



" Union Hotel, Charing Cross, 

 Wednesday, July 11, 1832. 



" My dearest Jane : — I have received your favor of last Satur- 

 day, and rejoice to find that you are all well, and in as good spirits 

 as can be expected during my absence. Had I known what bustle 

 and botheration I should be exposed to, I hardly think I should 

 have left Edinburgh. Every day gives a different account of the 

 movement of the squadron. The ' Vernon,' who is at Woolwich, 

 was to have dropt down to-day to Sheerness, but it is put off till 

 Friday, and even that is uncertain. She has then to get all her 

 guns and powder on board, and her sails set, and other things, which 

 will take some days, I guess ; and this morning it is said the squad- 



* In the edition of bis poems, published in 1833, the following somewhat puerile lines appeared, 

 which I quote as a literary curiosity : — 



" TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH. 



" You did late review my lays, 

 Crusty Christopher ; 

 You did mingle blame with praise, 



Paisty Christopher: 

 When I learned from whom it came, 

 I forgave you all the blame, 



Musty Christopher; 

 I could not forgive the praise, 

 Fusty Christopher." 

 t " The National Song ;" " English War Song ;" " We are Free ;" " Love, Pride, and Forgetful- 

 ness ;" Sonnet, " Shall the hag Evil," &c. ; " The ' How 1 and the ' Why ;' " " The Kraken," 4c., Ac, 

 are all consigned to oblivion, or to our acquisitive brethren on the other side of the Atlantic, who 

 may have preserved these youthful effusions in the American editions. 



