Thus Heaven enlarged his soul in riper years, For Nature gave him strength, and fire, to soar On Fancy's wing above this vale of tears; Where dark, cold-hearted sceptics, creeping, pore Through microscope of metaphysic lore: And much they grope for truth, but never hit. For why? Their powers, inadequate before, This idle art makes more and more unfit; Yet deem they darkness light, and their vain blunders wit. Nor was this ancient dame a foe to mirth : Her ballad, jest, and riddle's quaint device Oft cheer'd the shepherds round their social hearth; Whom levity or spleen could ne'er entice To purchase chat, or laughter, at the price Of decency. Nor let it faith exceed, That Nature forms a rustic taste so nice. Ah! had they been of court or city breed, Such delicacy were right marvellous indeed. Oft when the winter storm had ceased to rave, Thence musing onward to the sounding shore, Even then he hasten'd from the haunt of man, ran. Responsive to the sprightly pipe, when all In sprightly dance the village youth were join'd, Edwin, of melody aye held in thrall, From the rude gambol far remote reclined, Soothed with the soft notes warbling in the wind. Ah, then all jollity seem'd noise and folly: To the pure soul by Fancy's fire refined, Ah, what is mirth but turbulence unholy, When with the charm compared of heavenly melancholy! Is there a heart that music cannot melt ? He needs not woo the Muse; he is her scorn. mourn, And delve for life in Mammon's dirty mine; Sneak with the scoundrel fox, or grunt with glutton swine. For Edwin Fate a nobler doom had plann'd ; Song was his favourite and first pursuit. The wild harp rang to his advent'rous hand, And languish'd to his breath the plaintive flute. His infant Muse, though artless, was not mute : Of elegance as yet he took no care; For this of time and culture is the fruit; And Edwin gain'd at last this fruit so rare : As in some future verse I purpose to declare. ין CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY. [Born, 1724. Died, 1805.] THIS light and amusing poet was the son of the Rev. Dr. Anstey, rector of Brinkeley, in Cambridgeshire, who had been a fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. When very young, he was sent to school at Bury St. Edmunds. From thence he was removed to Eton, and placed at the fourth form, as an oppidan, and afterwards on the foundation. He finished his studies at Eton with a creditable character, and in 1741 went as captain to the Mount. From thence he went to Cambridge, where he obtained some reputation by his Tripos verses. In 1745, he was admitted fellow of King's college, and in the following year took his bachelor's degree in the university. When he had nearly completed the terms of his qualification for that of master of arts, he was prevented from obtaining it in consequence of what his own son, his biographer, calls a spirited and popular opposition, which he showed to the leading men of the university. The phrase of "popular and spirited opposition," sounds promising to the curiosity; but the reader must not expect too much, lest he should be disappointed by learning that this popular opposition was only his refusing to deliver certain declamations, which the heads of the university (unfairly it was thought) required from the bachelors of King's College. Anstey, as senior of the order of bachelors, had to deliver the first oration. He contrived to begin his speech with a rhapsody of adverbs, which, with no direct meaning, hinted a ridicule on the arbitrary injunction of the university rulers. They soon ordered him to dismount from the rostrum, and called upon him for a new declamation, which, as might be expected, only gave him an opportunity of pointing finer irony in the shape of an apology. This affront was not forgotten by his superiors; and when he applied for his degree, it was refused to him. In the year 1756 he married Miss Calvert, sister to his oldest and most intimate friend John Calvert, Esq. of Albury Hall, in Hertfordshire, and sat in several successive parliaments for the borough of Hertford. Having succeeded, after his marriage, to his father's estate, he retired to the family seat in Cambridgeshire, and seems to have spent his days in that smooth happiness which gives life few remarkable eras. He was addicted to the sports of the field and the amusements of the country, undisturbed by ambition, and happy in the possession of friends and fortune. His first literary effort which was published, was his translation of Gray's Elegy in a Churchyard into Latin verse, in which he was assisted by Dr. Roberts, author of "Judah Restored." He was personally acquainted with Gray, and derived from him the benefit of some remarks on his translation. His first publication in English verse was "The New Bath Guide," which appeared in 1766. The droll and familiar manner of the poem is original; but its leading characters are evidently borrowed from Smollett*. Anstey gave the copy price of the piece, which was £200, as a charitable donation to the hospital of Bath; and Dodsley, to whom it had been sold, with remarkable generosity restored the copyright to its author, after it had been eleven years published. His other works hardly require the investigation of their date. In the decline of life he meditated a collection of his letters and poems; but letters recovered from the repositories of dead friends are but melancholy readings; and, probably overcome by the sensations which they excited, he desisted from his collection. After a happy enjoyment of life (during fifty years of which he had never been confined to bed, except one day, by an accidental hurt upon his leg), he quietly resigned his existence, at the house of his son-in-law, Mr. Bosanquet, in his eighty-first year, surrounded by his family, and retaining his faculties to the last. FROM THE NEW BATH GUIDE. LETTER XIII. Mr. SIMKIN B-N-R-D to Lady B-N-R-D, at A Public Breakfast-Motives for the same-A List of the [* Anstey was the original, for Humphrey Clinker was not out till 1771, nor written before 1770. This inadvertency of Mr. Campbell has been pointed out by Lord Byron in the Appendix to the 5th Canto of Don Juan. -Hall North. Do the gods such a noble ambition inspire; "But Anstey's diverting satire," says Sir Walter Scott, "was but a slight sketch, compared to the finished and elaborate manner in which Smollett has, in the first place, identified his characters, and then fitted them with language, sentiments, and powers of observation, in exact correspondence with their talents, temper, condition, and disposition."-Misc. Pr. Works, vol. iii. p. 160.] O generous passion! 'tis yours to afford All the people at Bath to a general breakfast. You've heard of my Lady Bunbutter, no doubt, How she loves an assembly, fandango, or rout; No lady in London is half so expert At a snug private party her friends to divert; But they say that, of late, she's grown sick of the town, And often to Bath condescends to come down: In hopes he her Ladyship's favour might win, Was bowing, and handing the ladies ashore : How the misses did huddle and scuddle, and run: To moisten their pinions like ducks when it rains ; Her Ladyship's sister; And the great Hanoverian Baron Pansmowzer: Besides many others, who all in the rain went, Sweet were the strains, as od'rous gales that blow And could not contain, While Thais was sitting beside him ; Was for shaking the spheres, Such goods the kind gods did provide him; And cock'd up his shoulder, Like the son of great Jupiter Ammon, And lay there as dead as a salmon. O had I a voice that was stronger than steel, With twice fifty tongues to express what I feel, And as many good mouths, yet I never could utter All the speeches my Lord made to Lady Bunbutter ! So polite all the time, that he ne'er touch'd a bit, Should talk a great deal, but they never should eat: London through; You may go to Carlisle's, and to Almanac's too : And I'll give you my head if you find such a host, For coffee, tea, chocolate, butter, and toast: How he welcomes at once all the world and his wife, And how civil to folk he ne'er saw in his life!" "These horns," cries my Lady," so tickle one's ear, Lard! what would I give that Sir Simon was here! To the next public breakfast Sir Simon shall go, For I find here are folks one may venture to know: Sir Simon would gladly his Lordship attend, And my Lord would be pleased with so cheerful a friend." So when we had wasted more bread at a breakfast Than the poor of our parish have ate for this week past, I saw, all at once, a prodigious great throng At once to receive all the thanks of a crowd: All the while her mamma was expressing her joy, That her daughter the morning so well could employ. -Now why should the Muse, my dear mother, relate The misfortunes that fall to the lot of the great? And I left all the ladies a cleaning his coat. Thus the feast was concluded, as far as I hear, To the great satisfaction of all that were there. O may he give breakfasts as long as he stays, For I ne'er ate a better in all my born days. In haste I conclude, &c. &c. &c. Bath, 1766. SB-N—r—D. |