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'there was always poetry. Campbell, just then at the top of his short-lived vogue; Ossian, the unreadable of to-day; Milton - and with the New Year of 1812 a Captain Boothby (met during the London season) as a visitor with whom to read the last, but not the other two. For he did not admire Campbell or Ossian; and indeed seems to have been a person of delicate discriminations, though not advanced in thought. They were reading "Paradise Lost"...'