Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

abuse, and our author discovered, or thought he dis covered, the writers of some of these offensive essays in a reverend gentleman, who used to subscribe the names of Regulus, Toby, Cæsar, &c. to them. Irritated at these unmerited attacks, Mr. Anstey praduced a poem called the" Priest Dissected," addressed to the Rev. Mr. This was a most violent philippic against anonymous assassins, with some humour, and a considerable portion of commendable acrimony. The poem has been long scarce, and seldom can a copy of it be procured. The following loyal and spirited compliment to the Monarch is well deserving a place in our collection.

66

- Could I the fragrant garland twine

"Of sweetest flowers that bloom round Virtue's shrine,
"To grace the husband, father, and the man

"Who lives and governs on the Christian plan:
"Pleas'd with mild arts his empire to improve,
"Blest in his dear, and virtuous consort's love:
"Who 'mid the toils of state his hours employs
"On ten sweet pledges of connubial joys,
"And gives to me (who equal numbers share)
"A bright example of connubial care-
"Then would I raise my feeble voice to sing
"My good, my honour'd, and my gracious King."

As a proof of Mr. Anstey's latinity, he addressed a poem in that language to a lamented and ingeni ous man-C. W. Bamfylde, Esq. of Hestercombe, in Somersetshire. This was universally esteemed by every scholar capable of appreciating its nerit, as a correct, harmonious, and classical composition, but the subject-the fobiles of the fashionable world-was thought unfit for Latin verse, especially as it was generally addressed to the ladies. In a short time, however,

however, he made ample amends both to the learned, and unlearned by the publication of" the Election Ball," in the manner of the New Bath Guide. The first edition was printed in the Somersetshire dialect, but it was afterwards altered, and had a rapid sale. It is, perhaps, inferior to the Bath Guide, but it certainly possesses the same vein of original humour.

But this general imitation strengthens the claim of the original inventors, and sinks the others into a servile train, who follow their leaders, as Iulus followed his father. The Bath Guide will remain for ever an incomparably elegant, though light pillar in the temple of Fame, while the temple itself shall endure; and the aspiring herd who have presumed to build on Mr. Anstey's ground, with a few exceptions, amongst which we must notice a poetical Cheltenham Guide, in which the memoirs of the Blunderhead family are continued and concluded, supposed to be a very carly production of Dr. Mavor, have already fallen under the weight of their own architecture, and mixt with the dust of things forgotten.

The mania for buildings of another kind, even to the ruin of the architects, and, in some degree to injuring the beauty of the city, raged so furiously in Bath some years ago, the groves, gardens, prospects and pleasure-grounds fell victims to its wide-spreading folly. Amongst other evils attendant hereupon, Mr. Anstey was deprived of a favourite and beautiful spot of ground, in the cultivation of which he took great pleasure. It was there that our poet passed a considerable share of his time, and where his friends

were

were entertained, and delighted. On being deprived of this charming scene, it was said he determined to leave Bath in disgust; but he worked himself into good humour by the following sharp epigram.

"Ye men of Bath who stately mansions rear,
"To wait for tenants from the devil knows where,
"Would you pursue a plan which cannot fail,
"Erect a mad-house, and enlarge your jail."

This produced a volley of sarcastic censures: the only one worthy of notice, and where the truth was more conspicuous than the poetry, is the following: "When crouds arrive fast, our streets increase, "And our jail only proves an empty space;

"When health and case here court the grave and gay,
"Madmen and fools alone will keep away."

The fact is, at that season the houses in Bath were not by any means sufficient for the influx of company, and the doors of the jail were literally thrown open, there not being a single prisoner within the walls. Mr. Anstey was again soon reconciled to the place, and actually purchased several houses in the most eligible situations. He continues to reside there at this favourite spot, enlightening by his acquirements, or enlivening by the brilliancy of his conversation, all the learned and polite circles. His bon-mots are made the subjects of praise, and afford constant mirth to every genteel party. His own bounties are extensive, and his appeals to others have the best effect in opening the tardy purse-strings. He is in every shape benevolence personified, making all around him happy. His sons are bred up to the church, the law, the army, or in some civil department in India.

Mr. John Anstey (a barrister) possesses the legitimate humour of his father, as his poem, called the "Pleader's Guide," strongly evinces. More originality of humour, keenness of satire, a deeper knowledge of the arcana of the profession, were never displayed in any publication. Mr. Anstey is now touching his seventieth year, but, like "a lusty winter, hail though frosty," he shews no marks of decay-his cheeks are florid, and his eye has even now that brilliancy which has seldom shone with superior lustre in any face. In short, Mr. Anstey lives in the enjoyment of a well-acquired fame, a happy competency, a most promising young family, and the best of wives, encircled by as numerous a host of friends as ever graced a patriarchal circle.

The woods of Hestercomb are truly beautiful: a hermitage in them, with the figure of an old witch. painted on it, occasioned the following neat compliment from the late Dr. Langhorne.

"O'er BAMFYLDE's woods, by various nature graced,
"A witch presides, but then that WITCH is TASTE.

MR. WILLIAM GIFFORD.

IT was our intention to have inserted a biographical memoir of the author of the Baviad in a preceding volume of this work, when we accidentally obtained information, that Mr. Gifford himself designed to prefix a sketch of his life to a translation of Juvenal, which he was preparing for publication. In conse

quence

quence of this intelligence, we relinquished the gratification of presenting to our readers some very interesting particulars relative to that gentleman, from a persuasion that his own narrative would at once correct and enlarge the valuable materials with which we had been favoured.

We now congratulate ourselves on our forbearance -Mr. Gifford's translation of Juvenal has appeared, and with it the expected memoir of his life; which we do not hesitate to pronounce one of the most interesting and best written morceaux, which the pen of the biographer has ever executed. It is difficult to say which is most entitled to our admiration, the manly candour which unfolds his humble origin, or the genuine modesty which veils his present eminence. Of the former, Mr. Gifford has favoured us with a description in all respects so perfect, that the hand of arrogance itself would recoil from the conceit of blemishing so beautiful a production by the alteration of a point. We shall therefore literally copy all that relates to this part of Mr. Gifford's life from his own

narration.

It will, however, be our pleasing task to supply some deficiencies in the sequel of this interesting memoir; a task which the modest silence of the author has rendered necessary. If he himself has conducted his readers to the vale of obscurity, and, as he terms it, of poverty beyond the common lot," in which Fate first cast him, justice demands, that they should also know those merits which have elevated him from such a destiny to a distinguished rank among the

66

« VorigeDoorgaan »