New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1853-01-18
DAILY CRESCENT.
Tr1n tH1 Basfoh lo1Ina.
THE LATE PROFESSOR WILSON.
i SKETCH: WITH SOME PERSONAL NOTICES on
Fgw or MS LITERARY CONTEMPORARIES.

Fsw or HIS LITERARY CONTEMPORARIES. I
The year 1852 was singularly fatal to great
men, both in this country and in Great Britain.
Here the nation lost a Webster, Clay, and
Rantou There, whole country wept for
Wellington, its greatest soldier, and it now
lnourns John Wilson, cne Of the brightest stars
in ;ts literary hemisphere. Other lightly spirits
have also departed during tne last twelve
months hut their . lesser lights pale amid the
blaze Of glory in which the greater luminaries
Cf the time have set.
Yes, John Wilson is no more Glorious old |
'' Chris topher' has laid asid, his crutch for
cyerl At g Ambrose s. there is another vacant
chair! Never more shall g North discourse
el0quently whilst :" discussing his tipple' with !
Morgan, 0'Dolrerty and James Of Etrick. |
E" Under canvas those g Dies B6redteS' have |
ceased to charm. His slashing critiques viii no
longer make literary samples shiver in their
scarihed skins nor alas shall we again have
from his fluent pen Caledonian tales, with their
lights and shalows,'' nor fresh patches of glo-
lious piscatnry ranbles. such as have often Wv
iaiy led Us in f,noy By the banks Of srun and
tarn, and by the sides Of roaring rivers, such as
are only TO be found in the
Land Of the mountain and the food"
One by one-each after each. How, during
the last few years, have the great authors Of our
time passed away! We can, as we write, call
to mind some foremost writer's, men and women,
nearly all Of whom we have had the honor Of
personally knowing, who have gone down to the
grave Walter Scott it was never our privilege
to see in the flesh but well do we remember
Crabbe, the first great poet we ever looked upon
Southey, whose personal kindness we can never
forget Colcridge, at whose feet we have sat. as
at those of modern Gamaliel Wordsworth,
whose crave, almost melancholy, face still
haunts our memory in thoughtful hours; Hood
and liook--persanally and socially the oppostes
of each other--but alike in wit and vision;
Miss Landon, sparkling yet pathetic; Miss Jo-
anna Bailhe, sage aud serious; Harriet Lee,
charmingly conversational, Jane Porter, pious
and profound All these ilustrious personages
we have known whilst living, and mourned for
when dead And now comes to over the
| broad Atlantic, the tidings of the departure of
one Of the last stars of that glorious galaxy Of
genius, which during the last quarter of a cen
! tury commanded the admiration, in all civilized
countries, of every arbiter Of taste and master
of opinion
| Of the few writers connected with what may
be termed the Augustan age of English htera-
ture, who yet remain. may be mentioned as the
| leaders--James Montgomery, Walter Savage
Laudor, Joseph Cottle, I. B. Macaulay, Sir a.
Alison, and DeQuincey. There are, probably,
others, whose names do not readily occur 10 US
but these are undoubtedly the most promi-
nent.
event MS the death OF Professor Wilson coula
| hardly fail to evoke.
| The readers of Blackwood have, doubtless
when peru,ing the brilliant articles Of the edi
tor Of that magazine, pictured to themselve
the prrs5 nal appea ance IF tie man whose vi2O
rous sketches of fl cd and fell so charme
them The mascul n breadth OF those descrlp
, tiuns II deer stslking, Of salmon fishing, an
such like cuuli sc Freely have conveyed an
o her impression than that Wilson was a phys
cal as well as an Intellectual giant And sue
an impression would have been correct ont
But 1t us give a pen-and-ink description
him as he appeared on the occasion of our FIR:
marking his really majestic presence.
On our first visit to the scottish metropoli
we felt naturally anxious TO behold the Twin
us well a. the dead lions of the place Fortu
natcly we were supplied with introducions,
that difficulties bad to be surmounted. A
ready had wandered about the Ganongatt
2 and each of those other places which the geniu
Of Scott had made classic; had climbed to Al
thurs seat--wandered through the halls
Iolyrood-and, in short, had stared at nearl
all the stone and mortar celebrities of Eiil
burgh. And now We began to look about fC
the great Iden.
. Nor had we long to wait. A '' bonnie" youn
; student (he too is gomez with whom we had bc
- come acquainted was one morning chatun
over the wonderful variety OF good things whic
| characterizes a Scottish breakfast, when Ii
l. suddenly exclaimed
- by the way Wilson gives his u troductor
to-day. Would you like to go with me You
have II fine chance of seeing some Of the D0Es
: our modern Athens"
+ OF course we were like Mr.. Burke wllin,
"a and a the appointed hour we, with our frienC
r. were in the lecture roor, on the tip-too of anx
\ cry to hear the Professor of Moral Philosophy
McD- knew every body, and so was a cg
pital companion ter stranger. AS the theatl
b, filed, he pointed ont one and another of ii
= = Dons = some Of them we have since seen. Bl
b, we will do our best to describe them they NJ
y pearel TO us ON that memorable occasion. Fir
a Impressions are generally more correct tina
s subsequent observation. The persons we Al
pps about to slightly sketch a0ir as deeply ei
+ graved on our memory as they were then vivid
"a depicted on our retina.
So, before the Professor enters, we will CLAM
al that brilliant audience, and select from it
!, few subjects for pen pcturng
Directly in front OF the lecture table is Ia
ne, me- thin, delicate looking man He has hig
6t white forehead over which floats brown hal
,is Large gray eyes stare out wildly from the
sockets, with "A restlessness indicative of ment
- oyer-excitcment they roll from side to sid
surveying, it would seem, every thing aud eve
body at glance. The nose is small, the mOu
:. large, and the complexion cadaverous The DIRE
u Of this individual is carelessly arranged-inde
a.. IL Is almost Sluycnly; but then, he Is evidently
~ thinking mana close student. 1t is Robe
. McNish who wrote under the name of 9 the N
ST dern Pythagurean," in Blackwood for yea
iE and whose ANATOMY of Sleep and "Anator
nv Of Drunkenness, must be familiar to many
oy uur readers. MeNish was n young, striyi
y, struggling surgeon in a small country town
profession the ardent pursuit of which, in CO
uI bination with excessive literary labors. Kill
a.s aS him while yet y ung, but not before he b
mon Witnessed his dawning fame. He was yigorC
iea- poet, too, his contributions TO magazi
ao abuudantly testify.
We1ged in among beyy Of beauties, to VIII
,S;EE he is pleasantly chatting, sits dapper pers
age. apparently some thirty-tye years ot 4
" lie has II round, tiorid face; keen, dark 6.
'u- a low, broad forehead an aquiline nose, v,
4, white teeth, and partially gray waving h,
i" Very different npersonal appearance is he Fl
!. NcNi>h, but he too, like HIM, worships at
shrnes those of Apollo AID Esculalius, /
sF McNish, too, he is regular contributor
n. Btoc! loo0d. II is d. Vi. Moir, of Mussrlhur
~ better known as Delta " Mr. Aloir died aG
- two years ago, ani IN his magazine Wilson ?
a noble tribute to his genus
BuC who is that small gentleman with the
: natured PHI, sognomy, who sits, as it VIC
q seem, chewing the cud of = bitter thought
. yonlcr remote corner of the theatre Tho'
sooa somewhat minute in body and extremities