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And reason good, for none of them excellence is only a dazzling meteor, The death of David trumpets.

and must be forgotten in a few years But what-shall Shakspeare's muse bedew

at most.--Players have sometimes been This David's leaden urn ? Or at his tomb, 0 Milton, say,

extravagantly extolled, particularly by Shall thy Urania mourn ?

grateful or aspiring poets who have Shall gentle Spenser's injured shade

written for the stage, * and it will unFor him attune the lay?

doubtedly be granted that a poet may No: none of these o'er his dull grave easily find a more dignified theme: Shall strew one leaf of bay.

but supreme excellence in any ingeniTo him, the modern Midas, these

ous art seems to be no improper subNo grateful chaplets owe ;

ject of panegyric; and so rare and difYet shall his friends with

proper
wreaths

ficult are the fleeting attainments of a Adorn his heavy brow. For him shall Russell rant and rave

great actor, that it may be considered In hobbling rumbling lays ;

as a generous exertion of the poetic And Smith in barbarous sleepy prose

talent to rescue them from oblivion. Shall grunt and croak his praise. ***

Pity it is,” exclaims a celebrated coRussell is the author of the verses

median, “ that the momentary beauon the death of Dr Armstrong, signed

ties flowing from an harmonious eloW. R. and dated from Gray's Inn, cution, cannot, like those of poetry, Sept. 10, 1779, which are commonly be their own reward ! that the aniprinted with the poems of that classi- mated graces of the player can live no cal writer.

longer than the instant breath and Before this period he had apparent- motion that presents them ; or at best ly relinquished his connexion with

can but faintly glimmer through the the printing-office, and had entirely memory, or imperfect recollection of a devoted himself to the pursuits of li- few surviving spectators!”+ terature. His History of America was

The three volumes which complete published in numbers, and completed the History of Modern Europe made in the course of the same year. This their appearance in 1784. From the publication was not unfavourably re

manuscript notices to which I have ceived; but the splendid merit of Dr already referred, it appears that in the Robertson's work precluded all com

composition of each of these five vopetition.

lumes Russell spent about twelve During the same year, 1779, he

months. This work, which is the likewise published, in octavo, the first chief foundation of his reputation, two volumes of The History of Mo- possesses great merit as a popular view dern Europe ; and their reception was

of a very extensive period of history. so favourable as to exceed his most The author displays no inconsiderable sanguine expectations.

judgment in the selection of his leadHis studies experienced a temporary ing incidents, and in the general are

and he interruption in 1780, when he em rangement of his materials; barked for Jamaica in order to recover

seems to have studied the philosophy some money, due to him as the heir of history with assiduity and success. of his brother James, who, after a re

His narrative is always free from lansidence of several years, had died in that island. He afterwards resumed *. In a poem addressed to Garrick by W. his historical labours, which were oc

Whitehead, the following verses occur : casionally interrupted by his love of

A nation's taste depends on you,

Perhaps a nation's virtue too. poetry. In the year 1783 he publish- Both these lines are sufficiently ridiculous. ed The Tragic Muse, a poem address. When Foote conceived the design of exhi. ed to Mrs Siddons. To address verses biting a burlesque imitation of the Stratford to a player has been considered as be- jubilee, they were not forgotten. “ In this neath the dignity of the literary cha- mock procession a fellow was to be dressed racter It would be a crime, said a

up, and made as much like Mr Garrick as periodical writer, to sacrifice genius on

possible. It was intended that some ragasuch an uninteresting occasion :

muffin in the procession should address

Roscius in the well-known lines of the poet have more dignified subjects for the

laureat, poetic muse than an individual whose

A nation's taste depends on you,

Perhaps a nation's virtue too. See the Poetical Works of William The representer of Mr Garrick was to make Julius Mickle; including several original no answer, but to

•Cock-a-doodle-do!'” pieces, with a new Life of the Author, by (Davies's Life of Garrick, vol. ii. p. 270.) the Rev. John Sim, A. B. late of St Alban + Apology for the Life of Colley Cibber, Hall, Oxford. Lond. 1806, 12mo.

cry,

chap iv.

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guor; and his liberal reflections are This production partakes of the pecuconveyed in a lively and elegant style. liar merits of his modern history; but

however be regretted that he as the author did not live to complete should have adopted the expedient of his design, it has never arrived at any producing his work as a series of let- considerable degree of popularity. The ters from a nobleman to his son: every greater proportion of these two voreader is sufficiently aware that Dr lumes relates to the history of Greece; Russell did not belong to the order of which of late has been ably treated by nobility; and the frequent recurrence Dr Gillies and Mr Mitford.* of “ my dear Philip” is too apt to re- Dr Russell did not long survive the mind us of the heartless frivolity of publication of this work: before the Lord Chesterfield.

close of the same year, a stroke of palThis work has often been reprinted, sy suddenly terminated his life. He and still continues to maintain its ori- was interred in Westerkirk churchginal popularity. Russell closes his yard ; where his grave is distinguishhistory with the peace of Paris in ed by a plain stone, bearing the sub1763 ; and an able continuation, ex- sequent inscription : “ Sacred to the tending to two volumes, has recently Memory of William Russell, LL. D. been added by Charles Coote, LL. D. who died at Knottyholm in the parish a learned civilian of Doctors Commons. of Cannobie, December the 25, 1793,

In the year 1787 he married Miss aged 52 years." Scott, a lady to whom he had long This ingenious man left a widow been attached, and in whom he found and a daughter, who still reside at a pleasant and intelligent companion. Knottyholm. I am indebted to Mrs He now entered upon the occupation Russell for the free use of his papers, of a comfortable farm at Knottyholm, as well as for some of the statements distant about five miles from the town contained in this sketch of his life. of Langholm in Dumfriesshire ; and Besides two complete tragedies, enfixed his residence in an elegant cot- titled Zenobia and Pyrrhus, he left in tage, delightfully situated on the banks manuscript an Analysis of Bryant's of the Esk. Here he spent the re- Mythology, and the following unfina mainder of his days. In this neigh- ished productions. bourhood there were several intelli- 1. The Earl of Strafford, a tragedy. gent individuals, with whom he lived 2. Modern Life, a comedy. in habits of intimacy; and one of the

3. The Love Marriage, an opera. most conspicuous of these was the late 4. Human Happiness, a poem intended John Maxwell, Esq. of Broomholm,

to have been comprised in four books.

5. An Historical and Philosophical View who was particularly distinguished for of the Progress of Mankind in the Knowhis knowledge of the theory of music. *

ledge of the Terraqueous Globe. In 1792 the university of St An- 6. The History of Modern Europe, Part drews conferred upon him the degree III. from the peace of Paris in 1763, to the of Doctor of Laws. The flattering re- general pacification in 1783, including an ception of his last publication had in

Account of the American War, and of the duced him to retrace his steps; and European Transactions in the East Indies. during the following year he published

In a Series of Letters from a Nobleman to

his Son. at London, in two volumes octavo, “ The History of Ancient Europe; ginning of the reign of George III. to the

7. The History of England from the bewith a View of the Revolutions in conclusion of the American War. Asia and Africa. In a Series of Let

In the composition of the last of ters to a Young Nobleman.” In the these works Dr Russell was engaged composition of this work, he professes at the time of his death. It was to be to have been peculiarly studious to comprised in three volumes octavo; for found his facts on original authorities, the copy-right of which Mr Cadell had and to clear the narrative of unimpor- stipulated to pay him seven hundred tant events. He seems however to and fifty pounds.

David IRVING, have allotted too many pages to the Edinburgh, 24 June 1818. poetical details of the Trojan war.

* Mr Maxwell published, without the * Dr Coote has lately published " The name of the author, “ An Essay upon History of Ancient Europe ; in a Series of Tune ; being an Attempt to free the Scale Letters from a Gentleman to his Son : inof Music, and the Tune of Instruments, tended as an accompaniment to Dr Russell's froin Imperfection." Edinb. 1781, 8vo. History of Modern Europe." Lond. 1815, Pp. 290.

3 vols 8yo,

OR, THE FATE OF THE BRAUNS.

A POEM, IN FOUR CANTOS.

BY WILLIAM WASTLE, ESQUIRE. * Member of the Dilettanti, Royal, and Antiquarian Societies, and of the Union and Ben Waters's Clubs of Edinburgh ; Honorary Member of the Kunst-und-alterthumsliebers

Gesellschaft of Gottingen, and of the Phønix Terrarum of Amsterdam, &c. &c. &c.

אשת חיל מי ומצש ובהק מפנינים מכרה : בטח בה לבבעלה ושלל לא יחסר

DEDICATION.
TO THEE, LONE WIZARD OF THE SABLE VEIL!

THOU AARON'S ROD OF CRITICS SMALL AND GREAT !
THOU SCOURGE AND TORMENT OF THE INFIDEL !

OF WHIGS AND DEMOCRATS, THOU FEAR AND HATE!
TO THEE, MYSTERIOUS EDITOR, ALL HAIL !

TO THEE THE FOLLOWING LINES I DEDICATE.
YOU'LL SATISFY THE BARD'S AMBITION FULLY,

IF YOU INSERT 'EM IN THE MONTH OF JULY.

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* This Gentleman having at last dispensed with certain promises under which we had come, we feel ourselves at liberty to announce to our readers that they owe to his pen several poetical articles of distinguished merit, in some of the preceding numbers of our Miscellany. We reserve the full acknowledgment of our various obligations to his genius, till the Index Auctorum (which we are happy to say is in a state of considerable forwardness,) shall be ready for publication. But we may mention in the mean time, that the various Poetical Notices of this Magazine are among the number of his productions, and that we have received from him “ Two Probationary Odes, humbly dedicated to the Royal Society of Edinburgh.” The appearance of those humorous pieces depends entirely upon contingencies. We may add, for the benefit of our Salt-foot readers, that Mr Wastle was lately served heir in general (the application of the phrase Filius Carnalis, being, in his case, waived,) to William Wastle, Esq. of that ilk, who died A. D. 1584.- A hero well known to the students of our popular poetry, “ Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,” &c. A pedigree of W. W. may probably appear in an early number of our Work.

EDITOR.

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VII.

XIV. He is, I take it, if the truth were known,

People will say, it is queer confiteor, Merely the brother uterine of Nap.

Arguing a vulgar coarseness in my taste. Old Madame Mere, no doubt, would never own, But I am not a canting bard, like Beattie, or

Perhaps she knew not, who begot the chap; Cowper, or any of that set strait-laced ; But in the family he's quite alone,

Such prudishness, I think, is a mere meteor A worthy creature, ignorant of trap.

That leads to bogs of dulness, drear and waste. During his reign in Holland, the good body Our poets make a great display of nicety, Acquired a taste for smoking and gin toddy. I suspect some of them of much duplicity. VIII.

XV.

Some of the best of them are, to my knowing, No more a monarch, Louis draws from these A consolation and a blessed balm

Au fond most excellent, fine jolly dogs ; In the retirement of domestic ease,

To clubs, &c. like others going, In stupid meditation's drowsy calm.

And scorning, manfully, prudential clogs.

And Beneath the shadow of thy Switzer trees

yet in poetry they're always shewing Sleep on, thou exiled lord of Amsterdam !

Off, as if they were mere domestic logs, In that long pipe a harmless sceptre find,

As if they took tea every night at eight, Enjoy your schnaps, give sorrow to the wind. And would not drink two bottles for their weight IX.

XVI. And if the stories that they tell be true,

In gold-Hypocrisy's a foe to merit, About your sterner brother and the queen,

And makes to me their genius less transporting. There's others as ill off,-aye, not a few;

I think it might be worthier of their spirit, In Italy the like has often been.

To scorn such modes of vulgar glory courting. Such doings seem most horrible to you,

The illustrious bards, whose fire their souls inherit, Chiefly because the world you have not seen.

More candid sentiments were fond of sporting. By studying the Poems of Leigh Hunt,

Homer, or if (as Voss says) that's a nullity, You'd learn to put a smoother face upon't.

The whole Homeridæ rejoiced in jollity!

XVII. But to my talemin Louis' capital,

And none of them would more than me have boggled, In Amsterdam, there lived a certain widow, If Mrs Schlappsendal they e'er had seen, The relic of Mynheer Van Schlappsendal,

To own that with no little gout they ogled, Over whose biertwoyears agone shesighed, “Oh!”

Such dames as sat to Rubens and Jan Stein; Altho’ she was not what genteel we call,

The sentiment, no doubt, had not been dogrelled, Dutch Virtuosi thought her quite the Dido;

But still the sentiment the same had been, For she was a plump, jolly, juicy lady,

Dressed in ottava-rima or hexameter,
And had, moreover, plenty of the ready.

Laudation of the belles of large diameter.
XI.

XVIII.
Whoe'er, with knowing optics, hath beheld

There could not be a more delicious creature, The pictures of Rembrandt, or Gerard Douw; I speak my mind out, than my heroine ; Of Van der Heyden, or of Van de Velde ;

I never saw a fairer face, or sweeter, Of Keyser, Jan Stein, Mieris, Metzu,

More melting, easy, gentleness of mein ; Vandyke, Frank Hals, or him that all excelled,

Good humour sat enthroned on every feature, In power, in luxury, and in beauty too,

Her eyes were rich, complacent and serene; The peerless Rubens-will at once discover Once on a washing-green I spied her slips, What charms inflame the Dutch or Flemish lover.

And found them full three yards about the hips. XII.

XIX. The slender waist, most delicate, most slim, Her arms were chubby, and her bosom plump, Into the gentle bosom swelling slow;

And every thing upon a liberal scale, The airy elegance of the light limb;

Yet she could frisk about, hop-step-and-jump, The little feet, that twinkle as they go ;

And waltz it, or fandango without fail ;The small and tapering arm, compact and trim, In short, she was, though fat, as fine a romp These lovelinesses seem to himSO SO ;

As e'er an English missy, slim and pale.
In short, we are supposed, by Netherlanders, She was the pride and glory of the town,
To be, in point of taste, the merest ganders. And made a conquest of one Mynheer Braun,
XIII.

XX.
The mistress of Mynheer must be a bouncer, Originally, I have heard, from Memel,
Fat is the chief commodity he seeks,

But settled long in Holland as a banker;
It must take scores and scores of yards to flounce her; In most things he a native did resemble,
She must have pounds of chin, and pounds of He had a Dutchman's paunch, à Dutchman's.
cheeks ;

lank hair. Shemust have fists wouldknock a bullock down,sir, The moment he beheld this charming female, The Μεγεθος και καλλος of the Greeks.

Love in his heart infixed a triple anchor, If she sits down upon the grass, she leaves

And he resolved that instant, coute ce qui'l coute, A mark as broad as any of her beeves.

To give an ardent opening to his suit. 5

XXI.

XXVIII. Dutch people are not over ceremonious,

Men that had whiskers of the genuine growth, So there was nothing to prevent Myn heer, Springing up daily in abundant crops ; No dread of cold rebuff or acrimonious ;

Whiskers that curled them when their lords waxed And to the lady boldly he drew near,

wroth, And in his Cleopatra's ear th' Antonius

Not tied with ribbons underneath the chops, Whispered, “Mevrouw, 'tis claar en helder weer;" Apt to be falling among tea or broth, Which is as much in English as to say,

(But to be sure 'twas not the age for slops,) “ Madam, your servant ; there's a fine clear day.” Blarney was one of these-perhaps you've met him,

The ladies about London used to pet him.
XXII.
Such observations can't be called discourse,

XXIX.
They're uttered without any sort of meaning, We landed the same morning at the Brill,
But many people find them a resource,

And got acquainted at the table d'hote;
Their lack of languageorof thought for screening. We made in company a glorious meal,
Our Mynheer Braun was skilful to endorse

Tucking in every thing that could be got;
Bills, but of words he had a scanty gleaning ; And then we went together to the Spiel-
And as no better came into his head,

-Houses, and afterwards in the same boat,
These stupid syllables were all he said.

Or coach, we travelled--we were chums, in shorty

From Amsterdam to Utrecht, Gouda, Dort.
XXIII.
I should have mentioned, that the scene of meeting And now from Dordrecht on to Amsterdam,

XXX,
Was in a treckschuyt, before all its crew;
'Twas there the banker first espied his sweeting, Proceeding via Rotterdam, and Leyden,
'Twas there his pipe he from his lips withdrew,

And Haarlem, we had chanced ourselves to cram Altho" not half smoked out, to speak that greeting O'er the smooth surface, gentle as a lamb,

Into a snuggish treckschuit which was gliding Just criticised in stanza twenty-two ; That salutation brought them first together,

Mid groves of willows green its brightness hiding, I mean that dull remark about the weather. When Mynheer Braun had the good sense to fall

In love with charming widow Schlappsendall.
XXIV.
at Yaw wohl, Mynheer," was Mrs S.'s answer :

XXXI,
The words themselves were nothing; but the while A treckschuyt is a boat, the reader knows,
She spoke them, o'er her ruby lips there ran, sir,

Divided into cabins one, two, three ;
And up to her dear eyes, so sweet a smile !

At four miles in the hour, I think, it goes Chaldean, sorcerer, or necromancer,

On these canals, so smooth, so steadily. None could have managed it in higher style.

No sort of jolting troubles your repose, Touched by that charming simper of Mevrouw,

Or, if you're otherwise inclined, your glee; The Memel broker's heart began to glow

You eat and drink as if in Paradise,

But take a pipe there with you, if you're wise. XXV.

XXXII. As if Vesuvius, Ætna, Strombolo,

My friend and I had made our resolutions Had been transferred with all their lava thither;

To be, in Holland, natives cap-a-pee ; And then his eyes began to twinkle so,

So there our legs stretched out in velvet cushions, He looked a different mortal altogether ;

A bottie of old hock at either knee, And when he took her yielding hand of snow,

Amongst a crowd of Flemings, Dutchers, Prussians, And in the corner 'gan to flirt it with her,

Frenchmen, and Poles, andAustrians, there sat we, Says I at once, “ I'll lay you half-a-crown,

Uttering enormous puffs at every secondThis widow shall be wife to Master Braun.”

(What nasty brutes we had at home been reckoned !) XXVI.

XXXIII. My friend agreed at once with the remark.

There sat we, in oblivion of all labours, But I believe, I have forgot as yet,

And cares, and toils, and thoughts, for number one, Lector Benevole, to name the spark,

Encircled by the strangest group of neighbours I am an introduction in your debt,

That e'er was met, I take it, 'neath the sun. 'Twas Young Squire Blarney, heir to Blarney-park, Bobwigs and meerschaums, petticoats and sabres, As neat a gentleman as e'er you set

Burghers and Barons, Goth, and Celt, and Hun, Your eyes upon in Bond Street or Pall-mall,

A score of peoples, kindreds, tribes, and tongues, A proper Yorkshire cut, full six feet tall.

All exercising in one way their lungs.
XXVII.

XXXIV.
And in proportion broad across the back,

A number of our countrymen were there : A specimen of that old English breed

An Oxford parson in black stocking gaiters ; That used to drink such lots of ale and sack, An Irish quack without one pile of hair, And on whole barons of roast beef to feed,

Whose nose and chin were like a nutmeg grater's; Whom Mounseers scarce durst, three to one, attack, A lean Scots scribe, the type of craft and care,

Of stays and all such trash that had no need; Very much sneezed at every where by waiters, Fellows that had no calves done up in rollers, A native of the town of Aberdeen, No patent stiffeners no erect shirt-collars ; With two light gogling'eyes 'twixt gray and green ;

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