The Sexagenarian;
or, the recollections of a literary life,
in two volumes.
Vol. II.

THE
SEXAGENARIAN;
OR, THE
RECOLLECTIONS
OF A
LITERARY LIFE.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

London:
PRINTED FOR F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON,
NO. 62, ST. PAUL’S CHURCH-YARD;
By R. and R. Gilbert, St. John’s Square, Clerkenwell

1817.

Pelliculam veterem retinens et fronte politus

Astutam vapido gestas sub pectore vulpem.

CHAPTER I.

The next personage of whom some detached and mutilated memorandums present themselves, must be an object of conjecture, but the peculiarities concerning him are very striking, and the changes of his character and conduct so very considerable, that it may not be unamusing to some readers, to look back on the last twenty-five years, and endeavour to discover to whom they will apply.

The individual alluded to in our Manuscript, is mentioned as having been educated in the principles of the Dissenters, and to have officiated in earlier life as a clerk in some manufactory, or with some merchant, at Liverpool. It may be questioned, whether he ever entirely got rid of his former prejudices, but on some occasion or other, he chose to offer himself to the Bishop of Landaff as a candidate for orders. By him he was ordained, and he rendered himself so acceptable to the Bishop, that he made him his Chaplain. Preferment he had none to give him, at least no opportunity of making provision for his Chaplain presented itself, and the subject of this article was for a long series of years confined to a scanty income, obtained from laborious curacies, and from the not much more tolerable labour of pen-drudgery for booksellers.

With his entrance into holy orders, the spirit of orthodoxy and loyalty did not immediately accompany him. His more intimate associates were still those, who, on all occasions, avowed and practised hostility to the Established Church, and friendship for French principles; and he so far forgot himself, that for a time, at least, he was an active member of the famous, or rather infamous, Corresponding Society. His very particular friends were Mr. Stone, Helen Maria Williams, Mr. Holcroft, Mrs. Wolstoncroft, Dr. Priestley, Dr. Kippis—et id genus omne.

In this interval he published sermons, which were well received, some essays, rather heavy, but which indicated powers of thinking. He translated a very popular theological work, and this with so much success, that it introduced him to the notice of an excellent and venerable prelate, who has before been named, and who always eagerly sought opportunities of distinguishing and rewarding literary exertions, particularly such as promised to be useful to the Church.

Our gentleman had then the discretion to withdraw his name from the above-mentioned society, and demonstrated a little more circumspection, with respect to those with whom he associated. He however married a rigid Dissenter, to whom he eventually owed the prosperity, which attended his close of life.

By a concurrent series of fortunate circumstances, he was finally introduced to the Premier, and employed by him in some confidential services. The consequence of this was preferment so considerable as to secure a perfect independence.

His publications were very numerous, and he had obtained a sort of name among publishers, which occasioned many manuscripts of authors to be confided to him for revision and correction. Among others, he superintended the very popular work by Colonel Drinkwater, on the siege of Gibraltar. It is, however, to be apprehended, that he sometimes allowed his name to be prefixed, when he had not a great deal to do with the substance and body of the work.

And so much for Dr. ⸺.

His primum studium est ciere risum

Ex re qualibet, et leves cachinnos

Movere, et recitatione ficti

Lingas nobilium excitare laudes.

Norunt scommatibus placere salsis

Et mordacibus irritare dictis

Si quem simplicioribus notarunt

Vitæ moribus esse, et institutis

Aptant denique, punctum ad omne, frontem.

CHAPTER II.

The vicissitudes of fortune, of principles, and of conduct, which characterised the individual above introduced, not improbably brought to the recollection of the Sexagenarian, another personage of still more eccentric and contradictory qualities. For immediately succeeding the above sketch, after the erasure of some lines, in which occur the words inconsistency, unprincipled, uncommonly good luck, we find the following observations:—

I have often regretted that on leaving his society, I did not constantly write down the good things said by John Wilkes. I transcribe from memory these few particulars concerning him, and I may perhaps hereafter increase the catalogue.

He was really a sad dog, but most delightfully amusing, facetious, witty, well-informed, and with much various, though not profound learning.

He was sometimes so intolerably sarcastic, and more particularly at the expence of his friends in the city, that the wonder is, how he could so long continue in their good graces. He never put any restraint upon himself, when in company, on the other side of Temple-bar, but indulged in all the satire of his wit, at the citizen’s expence. A few examples, among a hundred that could easily be given, may suffice.

When confined in the King’s Bench, he was waited upon by a deputation from some ward in the city, when the office of alderman was vacant. As there had already been great fermentation on his account, and much more apprehended, they who were deputed, undertook to remonstrate with Wilkes on the danger to the public peace, which would result from his offering himself as a candidate on the present occasion, and expressed the hope that he would at least wait till some more suitable opportunity presented itself. But they mistook their man; this was with him an additional motive for persevering in his first intentions. After much useless conversation, one of the deputies at length exclaimed, “Well, Mr. Wilkes, if you are thus determined, we must take the sense of the ward.” “With all my heart,” replied Wilkes, “I will take the non-sense, and beat you ten to one.”

Upon another occasion, Wilkes attended a city dinner, not long after his promotion to city-honours. Among the guests was a noisy vulgar deputy, a great glutton, who, on his entering the dinner room, always with great deliberation took off his wig, suspended it on a pin, and with due solemnity put on a white cotton night-cap. Wilkes, who certainly was a high-bred man, and never accustomed to similar exhibitions, could not take his eyes from so strange and novel a picture. At length, the deputy, with unblushing familiarity, walked up to Wilkes, and asked him whether he did not think that his night-cap became him? “Oh! Yes, Sir,” replied Wilkes, “but it would look much better if it was pulled quite over your face.”

Wilkes’s dislike of the Scotch was sufficiently notorious, yet he was very partial to Boswell, and often sought his society. I dined with him once, (loquitur Sexagenarius noster) when, among some enlightened people, was present a heavy, stupid, consequential fellow, who held some city office, and who often, in the course of the conversation, treated Wilkes with much rudeness. It seemed that Wilkes and Boswell had met in Italy, and had ascended to the top of Vesuvius together. They recapitulated various circumstances of their expedition with much pleasantness and good-humour: and among other things, Boswell reminded Wilkes, with no ordinary satisfaction, of the exquisite Lacryma Christi, which they had found at a hermitage for the accommodation of travellers, half-way up the mountain: “Pray brother Wilkes,” said the citizen, “what is Lacryma Christi?” The answer which is here omitted, joined the most perfect wit, to the grossest blasphemy.

But neither would Wilkes spare Boswell, or conceal before him his prejudices against the Scotch nation. He seemed to seize, with particular avidity, every opportunity to play upon Boswell, when any thing relating to Scotland was introduced. “You must acknowledge, my friend Wilkes,” observed Boswell one day, “that the approach to Edinburgh from the London road, presents a very picturesque and interesting picture.” “Why so it perhaps may,” returned Wilkes, “but when I was there, the wind was in my face, and it brought with it such a confounded stink, that I was obliged to keep my handkerchief to my nose, the whole of the way, and could see nothing of the prospect.”

Not long afterwards, Boswell was speaking of some Scotch nobleman, who was very fond of planting, and had ornamented his domain with some very fine and beautiful forest-trees. “Where could this possibly be,” said Wilkes; “I travelled through the country with an American servant, and after we had visited various places in different parts of Scotland, I enquired of him what his general opinion was of the country?” “Oh, Sir!” replied the American, “it is finely cleared.”

There was a heavy Lord Mayor in Wilkes’s time, who, by persevering steadily in the pursuit of one object, accumulated an immense fortune, and rose progressively from the dignity of Common-councilman to the State-coach, and the Mansion-house. His first entrance into life was as a common bricklayer. At one of the Old Bailey dinners, his lordship, after a sumptuous repast on turbot and venison, was eating an immense quantity of butter with his cheese—“Why brother,” said Wilkes, “you lay it on with a trowel.”

There is a singular anecdote of this same Lord Mayor, demonstrative of the parsimonious principles, by the exercise of which he doubtless rose to opulence. His only son was brought up in the same mean profession, and one day fell from a scaffold, and was killed by the fall. The father, who was present, on seeing the accident, only exclaimed, “Take care of his watch.”

In the riots of the year 1780, which at the same time endangered and disgraced the metropolis, Wilkes was lamenting the ungovernable violence of a London mob;—upon this, some brother citizen took him up shortly, and reminded him of the disturbances of which he had formerly been the occasion. “Sir,” returned Wilkes, “I never was a Wilkite.”

He was not apt to express outwardly any thing like chagrin or mortification, but he certainly took his disappointment at Brentford, the last time that he offered himself as candidate for Middlesex, very heavily to heart. “I should much have liked,” he would say, “to have died in my geers.” Upon a similar occasion he exclaimed, “I can only compare myself to an exhausted volcano.”

Among other peculiarities and contradictions which marked Wilkes’s character, was a passion he had for collecting bibles, of which he had certainly obtained a great number of curious editions. But he was nevertheless consistent in his profligacy, and whenever the subject of religion or scripture was introduced, treated both with the keenest ridicule.

He called one morning upon a friend who resided in a very close and retired situation in the city, but who had a small opening before his house, of a few yards square, and two plants, which once looked like lilacs, in large tubs, adorned his windows. Men were employed in painting the outside of the house. “Brother,” said Wilkes to his friend, “suffer me to plead in behalf of these two poor lilacs in the tubs; pray let them be painted too.”

Wilkes was particularly fond of the society of learned men, though not by any means profoundly erudite himself. On some distinguished Greek scholar being named to him, he expressed a great desire to have his acquaintance. “Pray make me know him,” says Wilkes, “and tell him I should very much like pergræcari[1] with him.” To which the person alluded to would have made no kind of objection.

There were other broken and unfinished scraps in the Manuscript about Wilkes, which in appearance were intended to revive the recollection of circumstances to be detailed at some hour of leisure. There is, however, this remark at the end.

Wilkes was of that distinguished eminence for facetiousness and humour, it may indeed be said for wit, that it was the fashion of the day to ascribe any very striking and popular bon mot to him, and about the time of his disappearing from the stage, to him or Jekyll. They have both, in all probability, had the reputation of saying what neither of them ever uttered; though both were eminently distinguished for saying naturally and unaffectedly innumerable good things.

A few of these children of questionable parentage are preserved. No matter to which of the above, or to whom, they belong.

Querist.—Where, observed a Roman Catholic, in warm dispute with a Protestant, where was your religion before Luther?

Q. Did you wash your face this morning?

A. Yes.

Q. Where was your face before it was washed?

I wish you at the devil, said somebody to Wilkes.

I don’t wish you there.

Why.

Because I never wish to meet you again.

Where the devil do you come from? said Wilkes, to a beggar in the Isle of Wight.

From the devil.

What is there going on there?

Much the same as here.

What’s that?

The rich taken in, and the poor kept out.

The following may with greater probability be assigned to Jekyll than to Wilkes.

Your friend N. is married.

To whom?

The tall Miss G.

What to that thin lankey piece of furniture: it could not be from the lust of the flesh, for she has not an ounce upon her.

At a dinner where great satisfaction was expressed, it was facetiously proposed that the president should proceed to the kitchen, and kiss the cook.

That, observed ⸺, would be a salute at Spithead.

When a certain popular nobleman was appointed to the green ribband, he met his facetious friend, who warmly congratulated him on his new dignity, and green ribband. Yes, said the nobleman, but you will find me the same man still. Why, then returned the wit, you shall be the Green Man and Still.

A pert young lady was walking one morning on the Steyne, at Brighton, when she encountered our facetious friend. You see, Mr. ⸺, I am come out for a little sun and air.

You had better, Madam, get a little husband first.

The above are a few of the facetious apopthegms, which seemed, in the opinion of the Sexagenarian to merit preservation. There are others in the Manuscript, but they are either more familiar, or less interesting. Contrasted to the above, are two extraordinary instances of ignorance, which appear to have been written down as marvellous examples of a total want of comprehension and intelligence.

A woman of decent appearance came into a stationer’s shop, where the Sexagenarian was present, and desired to purchase a pen, for which she paid a penny. On receiving it, she returned it with the observation, that it was good for nothing. Another was given her, but she gave this also back again, with the same remark. On being asked what fault she had to find with them—“Why how,” she returned, “could they possibly be good for any thing, when both had a slit at the end.”

The other instance is no less curious, and also happened in the presence of our friend.

A female came into a bookseller’s shop with a slip of paper in her hand, upon which was written a verse from Scripture, with the proper reference to the place from whence it was taken.

“I want,” said she, “the sermon on that text, and two of my neighbours will each be glad of one also.” The bookseller surprised, enquired whose sermon it was. “Our curate’s,” she replied, “and he preached it last Sunday.” On being asked whether she knew if it had been printed, she was a little displeased, and pettishly observed, “how could it be preached if it had not been printed.” No explanation or remonstrance availed to satisfy, and she left the shop, convinced that the bookseller could, if he had thought proper, have accommodated her with what she wanted.

Temeritas est videlicet florentis ætatis, prudentia senescentis.

Adolescentia sola est invalida viribus, infirma consiliis, vitio calens, fastidiosa monitoribus, illecebrosa deliciis.

CHAPTER III.

A literary life, like adversity, introduces a man to strange and opposite acquaintance. Genius, talent, and learning, are not limited to rank or station, and the ingenuous desire of receiving, as well as of communicating information, induces an individual of such propensities to put aside those prejudices, which marked differences of opinion in creeds and in politics, have an inavoidable tendency to excite. That such were the feelings, and such the circumstances of our venerable friend, at a certain period of his life, appear from the following loose memoranda, which he evidently intended, at some period or other, to arrange and methodize.

What shall that individual alledge, to ward off and repel the charge of inconsistency, who began his career in life under the auspices of James Townsend, of Bruce Castle, of the patriotic Aldermen Sawbridge and Oliver; who confesses that he spent agreeable hours with Price and Priestley, and Horne Tooke, and Major Cartwright; and Kippis; and afterwards with a well known popular Baronet, and Dr. Disney, and Walker of Liverpool, and very many others of this description. The same person in the decline of life, had no friends, associates, or indeed acquaintance, but with individuals whose principles, sentiments, and conduct, were as diametrically opposite, to those of the characters above named, as light to darkness.

The fact is to be thus explained:—The first entrance into life must be incidental altogether; our first connexions are unavoidably those of our relatives, and their friends and associates; principles are unfolded only by time and experience, and then it is, that intimacies and attachments are formed and confirmed by similarity of taste, sentiments, and pursuits. Our Sexagenarian, as appears from his notes, first lived, where almost the whole of what might properly be denominated taste and learning, was confined to the Dissenters. Mark, reader, not Methodists; never was much taste or learning visible among these sectaries, but among the old Presbyterians, who constituted, in the place alluded to, both a numerous and respectable class. Neither did the word Presbyterian by any means imply “an immoral man, a pestilent citizen, or a disloyal subject.” He was therefore and of necessity compelled, though firm and immoveable in his own religious tenets, to associate much and familiarly with them in order to participate in common in the literary barter, which was carried on with much fairness and liberality on all sides.

Afterwards having formed a tender domestic connection, the ramification from which, drew him not unwilling to the metropolis; his family engagements threw him abruptly, and in the heat of the American war, amidst “a croud of patriots,” many of whose names have before been mentioned. Young and inexperienced, dazzled with the name of liberty, confounded by subtleties of argument, which, if he could not accurately analyze, he was still unable to confute; and lastly, with the prospect placed before him of ease and independence, can it excite surprise, that he should get entangled in a net, of which the meshes were at the same time so fine, as to elude detection, and too strong to allow of escape?

Politics, however, was not the subject for which he was best qualified, nor did they ever interest his affections, or exercise the better powers of his mind. He was rather the instrument than the operator, and he confesses that he has often looked back with a sort of shame and compunction, at having been, sometimes, the means of circulating ingredients, of the full tendency of which he was then unconscious, but which he has since ascertained to have developed some of those poisonous seeds, the pernicious effects of which, Europe, nay the whole world, has for the last five and twenty years experienced.

He derives, however, some consolation from the hope, indeed the confident belief, that many of those individuals, to whom a chain of fortuitous circumstances thus introduced him, were not themselves aware of the ultimate consequences of their conduct. The spirit of distrust and suspicion, which, in our free country, always follows with unremitting vigilance, the measures and the ministers of government, the emotions of wounded pride, of disappointed ambition, and, in some instances of personal enmity, combined to form the stimulus which actuated the conduct of many of the best and ablest characters among them. Many also, it is apprehended, discovered the illusion in time, and retracted their errors, before they had operated to the injury of their country.

Be the above as it may, the whole of the junta has disappeared like “the baseless fabric of a vision,” and of the individuals more particularly alluded to, the writer of these pages was, when this was recorded, the “only rack which was left behind.”

It may not be altogether unentertaining to say a little on some of these worthies, the result of personal knowledge.

What variety of herbs soever are shuffled together in the dish, yet the whole mass is swallowed up in one name of sallet. In like manner, under the consideration of names, I will make a hodge-podge of differing articles.

CHAPTER IV.

James T. of B. Castle, was the most extraordinary character of them all. He was of a good family, his father having been an opulent merchant, Alderman of London, and Member of Parliament. Whether this gentleman had that determined and implacable spirit of resistance to the measures of government, which afterwards characterized his son, has not been recorded. This James T.’s first appearance as a candidate for political fame, was when he served the office of Sheriff, with Sawbridge, and perhaps the same office has never since been filled by such individuals, possessing, in such entire unison, qualities so eccentric. It is not intended to write T.’s life, though it deserves a place in our biographical collections, far better than many which there make their appearance.

The principal upon which he seemingly acted, was to resist government in every thing, though this was hardly fair on the score of gratitude. He married a natural daughter of the last Lord C. who left Mrs. T. all his estates, which were very large indeed, but as she had been born abroad, and had never been naturalized, the estates were forfeited to the crown. The then Lord Holland had an intimate political connection with Mr. T.’s father, and through his parliamentary interest, the estates were restored to Lord C.’s daughter, and confirmed to her by act of Parliament.

This liberality had, however, no sort of influence on his conduct; his own opinion on any subject was the standard of right, and fari quid sentiat, his motto. During the time of his serving the office of Sheriff, it was thought expedient by government to execute some rioters in Spital-fields, in the neighbourhood where the offence had been committed. This he and his brother Sheriff strenuously resisted, contending they were not justified in seeing the sentence of the law put in force, except at the usual place of execution. They were, however, obliged to give way. Upon another occasion, he resisted the payment of the land-tax, and suffered his effects to be seized at T. from the excuse that in the case of Wilkes and Lutterell, the county of Middlesex was not legally represented.

He had great natural eloquence, though he had not taken much pains in the cultivation of his mind; and he always commanded attention in the House of Commons, where he once very narrowly escaped being sent to the Tower, in consequence of some intemperate expressions against the Princess Dowager of Wales. His most particular friends were Lord Shelburne and Colonel Barré. He represented Calne, Lord Shelburne’s borough, and when in town, always resided in his Lordship’s house. Whatever may be thought of his politics, though they certainly were of a mischievous tendency, he was a firm and steady friend, and so tenacious of his promise, that he would leave the remotest part of the kingdom, and the most delightful society, to attend and give his vote at Guildhall, though for the meanest individual, and the humblest office. He was very proud and tenacious of his dignity among the great, though of the most conciliating affability with his inferiors. He would travel from one end of the kingdom to the other without a servant, and with a small change of linen in a leathern trunk behind the saddle.

The Sexagenarian once accompanied him on a fishing excursion, in a remote province, and he chose, in the kitchen of the village-alehouse, where they stopped for refreshment, to dress some of the fish that had been caught. A labouring man came in to enquire of the landlord how to get a letter to London at least expence. “Give me your letter,” said Mr. T. “and it shall cost nothing.” He accordingly asked for pen and ink, and franked it, to the great amazement of seven or eight peasants, who were standing about to see the novel spectacle of a Gemman dressing his own fish.

A great deal more might be said, and not without exciting interest, of this singular character, but it appears that our friend’s memorandums must be curtailed; they would otherwise extend to too great a length. With the exception of Lord Shelburne and Colonel Barré, Mr. T.’s political friends varied somewhat with times and circumstances. He was once very intimate with Lord Thurlow, with Horne Tooke, with Sawbridge, and Oliver, and Wilkes, and many similar characters of that day, but before his death, these connections ceased altogether.

His son, it seems, partook of his father’s enthusiasm, or what they mutually understood to be the cause of liberty, and attached himself to the flaming patriots of the day.

The London Aldermen of those days, at least it is true of many among them, were in some respects different from those of the present. There were not a few individuals of birth and fortune, but little connected with commerce, who used their influence to obtain the Aldermanic gown, entirely from political views and purposes; such was Mr. T. and such also was Sawbridge.

Mr. Sawbridge was a country gentleman, with no city connections, but ardent in his politics, and exasperated against government, for what he considered as a violation of the constitution, in not permitting Wilkes to sit as representative for Middlesex. He at that time sate in Parliament for one of the Cinque Ports, and so distinguished himself by the part he took in favour of Wilkes, that he became exceedingly popular with the citizens of London, who, before he was an Alderman, elected him with T, to the office of Sheriff. He was in due time both Alderman and Lord Mayor, and afterwards represented the city of London in three succeeding parliaments.

He was a violent and constant opposer of the American war, and a systematic advocate for parliamentary reform; and during the whole of the time that he had a seat in the house, he never failed to make an annual motion to shorten the duration of parliament.

He was a perfect gentleman in his manners, and very little calculated to assimilate with those, into whose intimate society, his political enmities and prejudices introduced him.

Another of this circle was Mr. Oliver; he was a West India merchant, and in his external manners, the perfect gentleman.

The circumstance which first introduced him to city honours and political importance, was alike whimsical and accidental. He had a brother, who, on some vacancy for the representation of London, had declared himself a candidate with much prospect of success. He was, however, seized with a violent and dangerous sickness, which prevented his appearing on the hustings on the day of nomination. On this day, however, Mr. Richard Oliver, the subject of the present sketch, presented himself to the citizens, and lamented that the condition of his brother’s health rendered it impossible for him to avail himself of the honours which probably awaited him; but that he who now addressed them, attached to the same party, governed by the same principles, and possessed of equal independence, begged them to transfer the kindness they meditated for his brother, to himself. He succeeded without opposition, and in the interval between the day of nomination and election, was chosen an Alderman, and was afterwards Lord Mayor.

Of all the political popular characters of his day, Mr. Oliver, perhaps, was most consistently tenacious of the principles which he first avowed. This he exemplified more particularly with respect to Wilkes. As soon as he began to suspect that Wilkes was actuated by other motives, and had other views beyond those which they vindicated and pursued in common, he withdrew himself entirely from the Connection, and obstinately refused to serve the office of Sheriff with Wilkes as a colleague.

Some few years afterwards, and towards the conclusion of the American war, in despair, as he observed in a speech to the Corporation of London, of seeing greater wisdom in the measures of government, he resigned both his Aldermanic gown and seat in Parliament. He then went to visit his estate in the West Indies, where, after remaining some time, he proceeded on his return to England, and died in the voyage on board the packet.

Very different from the above individuals in almost every particular, was Brass Crosby, of whom there is hardly any thing more memorable, than that with Oliver, he demonstrated considerable firmness in the affair of the Printers, and was with him committed to the Tower, for a supposed breach of the privileges of parliament. But he was a man of no talents, of coarse appearance, and rude manners.

To the above conclave also belonged Richard Beckford, a natural son of the celebrated Alderman Beckford, and a mighty lover of liberty; but he was also no less famous as a lover of something else, and that was of eating and drinking. If there shall be any one surviving who personally knew, and can remember him, they will allow that seldom has a more worthy candidate been seen for a place at the Round Table of the Knights of Heliogabalus.

His prowess in this way was enormous. If he had only two bottles of Madeira at dinner, he thought himself stinted, and even after a more copious portion, would not unfrequently go in the evening to some of the fashionable club-houses in the vicinity of St. James’s-street, and repeat the dose. He was a remarkably large uncouth man, and had a convulsive infirmity in his head and neck, which made conversation with him exceedingly unpleasant.

Of Colonel Barré and Lord Shelburne, it must be unnecessary to say any thing. They might be considered as the fulcrum, upon which this political association rested; but there is one individual of whom it may be expedient to say a little more, and this was G⸺e B⸺s. He was a most perfect, noisy, turbulent demagogue; a great clamourer for liberty, and like all such, sour, surly, and tyrannical in his own family. He expressed a great contempt for women generally, and appeared to have had a remarkable aversion to what are considered as female accomplishments. In consequence of these absurd prejudices, he was particularly harsh to his wife and daughters, and refused the latter the opportunity of acquiring the commonest and more essential attainments. They trembled at his appearance, and exulted, with unaffected satisfaction, whenever any unexpected incident detained him from his family.

He was what in city language is termed a Deputy, that is, the representative of the alderman of the ward, in his absence. He was a man of strong sense, and by flattering his vanity, he was found exceedingly useful to his party at Common Halls, Courts of Common Council, and Ward Meetings. It was the fashion of that day, and it appears to have continued to the present period, to insult Royalty by insolent attacks, under the names of petitions and remonstrances. On such occasions, the personage here alluded to was always a conspicuous performer.

He had a son, who, bating that he inherited his paternal foibles, as they related to party and politics, was a sensible and accomplished gentleman. He, however, died prematurely.

There were other individuals of this fraternity, but of less notorious importance. The ligature, however, which held them all together, was first weakened, and finally dissolved.

En ego non paucis quondam munitus amicis

Dum flavit velis aura secunda meis,

Ut fera ninboso tumuerunt æquora vento

In mediis lacera puppe relinquor aquis,

Cumque alii nolint etiam me nosse videri

Vix duo projecto tresve tulistis opem

Quorum tu princeps.

CHAPTER V.

It can hardly be a matter of astonishment, that from mixing a great deal with the above individuals, and as well from family connection, as from repeated assurances of independence, the mind of a young and inexperienced man, should in some degree be warped. That he should in some measure feel a favourable bias towards sentiments and prejudices, which he heard perpetually avowed by many whom he esteemed, and vindicated not only with no ordinary degree of subtlety, but with the greatest powers of argument and intellect.

The delusion, however, did not last long. The fervour of political association, and the dreams of anticipated affluence, were abruptly but effectually dissolved. The golden image of independence was only seen through a glass darkly, and at a prodigious distance. It became necessary, steadily and diligently to exercise such abilities as were possessed, to fulfil the sweetest of charities, and the most sacred of obligations.

Whilst the mind was still in an unsettled state, and the imagination bewildering itself in visions of fancied occupation, accident (of all accidents surely the most fortunate) placed in the way an individual, to delineate whose character with fidelity and truth, though a most delightful task, yet it is one which requires no ordinary talents—no slight attention.

This occurrence, and this individual, gave a decided bias to the future pursuits, studies, views, connections, and prospects of the Sexagenarian. The influence was like that of an ascendant star, nor ever did one dark cloud interpose between this star and the object, which with complacency and affection, contemplated its mild and benignant aspect. Two streams united, which together formed a river, gentle but far from dull, and full without overflowing. Quickness of conception on one side, was tempered by judicious deliberation on the other; luxuriance of expression was chastened by classical accuracy, and extreme facility of communicating ideas, was moderated and reined in, by a salutary sobriety and reserve.

At first, indeed, there seemed something like an impassable gulf between the parties, formed by the undisguised exhibition of the qualities of mind by which they were severally distinguished. The first rencontre, for so it may be called, happened at the period, when the popularity of Mrs. Siddons, was at its height. The Sexagenarian, warm, impetuous, and living in much intimacy with the family of Mr. and Mrs. Yates, of theatrical memory, contended for the superiority of his friend and favourite, and considered the excellence of Mrs. Siddons, as solely consisting in the knowledge of her art, without exciting or displaying the great features and impressive emotions of nature. On the other hand, it was argued with equal pertinacity, that Mrs. Siddons had much higher and stronger claims to admiration, and that her popularity was the result of feeling, co-operating with judgment. As usual, neither party was convinced by the argument of his opponent, and they parted not very well satisfied with one another. But the reserve occasioned by this jarring of sentiments soon wore off, and disappeared altogether. Similar studies, pursuits, and objects, induced an intimacy, which was never interrupted but by the cold hand of death.

Something more is to be said of this personage.

Born of highly respectable connections, he was educated at a public school, where his talents soon inspired respect, and his facetiousness and wit, rendered him exceedingly popular. This spirit never forsook him through life, for he invariably continued to animate the society of which he was a part, by incessant sallies of cheerfulness, good humour, and the very best sort of conversation. His talents, however, were of a still higher order, and perhaps, there was no situation within the scope of his ambition, which he was not qualified to fill with dignity, and to the public advantage. He was a sound and excellent scholar, as the term is generally understood, but he was, moreover, distinguished by very extensive general knowledge and acquirements.

He several times claimed the public attention as an author, and the characteristic features of whatever he wrote, was strong sense, sound judgment, and a perfect knowledge of his subject. These solid and sober qualities proved an admirable check upon the too great quickness, extreme vivacity, and rapidity of conception, which distinguished his friend, who, for a term of no very short continuance, was also his coadjutor.

In the progress of a somewhat extended life, he filled different stations, and he discharged the duties of them all, with the most exemplary fidelity and honour. Why was he not appointed to the exercise of functions still more elevated and more dignified? This is a question not very easy to be answered. He might if he had thought proper. If he had condescended to use the ordinary means, which individuals similarly circumstanced, practise, and generally with success, there was nothing in the line of his profession too lofty for his pretensions, and which the connections and friendships he had formed, might not easily have procured. But though not more proud than became a man so endowed, and so distinguished, he had not the flexibility, which in the present condition of society, they who have good things for barter, invariably require of those who want them. He scorned to flatter and bow the knee to those, with whom he had entered life on the level, and had continued to associate with on the same terms of manly equality, but whom better fortune, or greater address, not superior merit, or stronger claims, had raised to the height of worldly honours. Though not without ambition, he had a sort of proud and manly disregard of lucrative situations, merely considered as such, and was not at all inclined to remit his ordinary habits, or to deviate from his accustomed paths, in pursuit of them.

He did indeed attain, and by force of merit only, the means of passing through life, with great respect and honour, in possession of all its comforts, and with not a few of its best advantages. These he enjoyed to the fullest extent, participating in them, with no very limited circle of old and long-tried friends. What has been said of his claims to worldly distinctions, is equally applicable to his mental endowments. His learning and his talents were equal to any undertaking. He would have been a good historian, if he had directed his mind to that branch of learning. A poet he was, and in the epigrammatic part of poetry was excelled by very few; he was well acquainted with the niceties and subtleties of grammar, and of his own language more particularly. He was by no means disputative, but, if occasion required, was an expert controversial writer. To finish all, he was a critic of no ordinary precision and acuteness.

That he had faults, it is not pretended to deny; but they inflicted no wounds. A sort of coldness and reserve of manner was frequently considered as the result of pride, and sometimes excited unfavourable impressions; but it was not pride, and very soon melted into familiarity. Among his intimate friends it was impossible to be more communicative, facetious, and agreeable. But it is time to have done?

The above tribute is paid from a full and warm heart. It is the result of long, very long attachment, esteem, and gratitude; of a friendship never interrupted; of an intercourse which a continued series of years cemented. Can it be necessary to say more?

Peering in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads.

CHAPTER VI.

The plane of the Sexagenarian’s literary horizon became much extended, in consequence of this connection, and much “terra incognita” was discovered and explored. Several planets also in the literary system, were by the aid communicated from this source, contemplated with greater accuracy and precision; the plains of the Muses were traversed with congenial ardour, each deriving similar gratification from the same sources. Much has already been said, and indeed there seems hardly any limit to what might be said, on the talents, characters, performances, and fortunes, of their various associates.

Memoranda of a great many personages still remain more or less detailed in our manuscript; but the work appears already extended beyond perhaps the patience of many readers, and the task of selecting and arranging from a crude mass, is not the most satisfactory that can be imagined.

The Sexagenarian appears to have had from his childhood a remarkable partiality for books of voyages and travels, and sought after them with the extremest eagerness, from the ingenious and imaginary adventures of Robinson Crusoe, to those more important works of authentic discovery, and actual description, which have for the last century, and indeed much before, obtained the sanction of public approbation and esteem. This feeling naturally led him to seek the personal acquaintance of all those among his contemporaries, who had made themselves eminent, either by their geographical knowledge, or their actual visits to remote regions and countries, less perfectly known.

Of many of these personages he has left notes, which induce the disposition to believe, that he had, at one time, entertained the intention of writing something in a connected form, on the subject of the value of their different observations and discoveries. This, however, he did not do; but from the remarks which he had made, the reader may perhaps find some transient amusement in the selection which succeeds.

Alexander Dalrymple.

This was a very considerable man, perhaps few, or none, of his contemporaries could compare with him, either for the extent or the accuracy of his geographical and nautical knowledge. His works on these subjects were very numerous and very important, and his original manuscripts, which, after his death, were deposited in the archives of the Admiralty, contain many valuable treasures.

It were to be wished, that as far as good policy and the national interests would justify such a measure, government would allow, under certain restrictions, extracts to be made from these papers, for the public information and satisfaction.

The English public have always been zealous and generous encouragers of all undertakings, which have had in view the increase of geographical knowledge. There are no publications more secure of success, than such as profess to detail the discoveries of regions before unknown; which describe the manners of those nations with whom we are less perfectly acquainted, thus combining, at the same time, information with improvement. Such propensities merit, on the part of government, as far as they can consistently make it, an adequate return.

Who could possibly be more proper for such an official undertaking, than the gentleman who succeeded Dalrymple in his situation of Hydrographer? It would be exceedingly difficult to point out a collection, without excepting even national repositories, where so great a mass of books and tracts on geography and navigation could be found, as in the library of Mr. Dalrymple. They amounted to many thousands, nor was there perhaps one, in which he had not made some manuscript observation. He had, moreover, the best and most popular works of this kind, in every language.

His conversation was lively, interesting, and full of information; he was obviously subject to great irritability, which might partly be constitutional, and partly perhaps induced by those severe fits of the gout, to which he was subject.

In the decline of life, his personal appearance was somewhat whimsical. Whenever he visited, he carried with him a small stool, which appeared indispensible to his comfort.

He was always ready and willing to communicate what he knew, and it well answered the purposes of those, who wanted information on the subjects of the kingdoms and oceans of the world, to listen with attention to Alexander Dalrymple.

The Sexagenarian appears to have been still more familiarly acquainted with Dr. P. R.

Dare atque accipere te volo

Dei divites sunt—deos decent opulentiæ

Et factiones—verum nos homunculi

Salillum animæ, qui cum extemplo amisimus

Æquo mendicus atque ille opulentissimus

Censetur censu, ad acherontem mortuus.

CHAPTER VII.

Indeed the memorandums intimate, that not the least interesting circumstance of his literary life was implicated in his connection with this personage. This Dr. R. had a brother, who, for a long series of years had been resident in a remote foreign country, where he successfully prosecuted his profession. He became, from familiar communication and personal observation, so well acquainted with the natural history of the country, the peculiarities of the climate, its endemic diseases, the manners of the inhabitants, laws, usages, and singularities, that he wrote and published an interesting volume on the subject, which was very favourably received, and extensively circulated.

Dr. P. succeeded to his brother in his professional reputation, situation, and local advantages, and exercising his mind on similar objects, with the addition of still more favourable opportunities, he very considerably added to the stores which his brother had acquired, and became eminently qualified, to reprint, with important alterations and additions, the work which had obtained to his predecessor, no insignificant degree of credit. He was called upon to undertake this honourable office, and he assented.

At this period, the Sexagenarian was a sort of scholar of fortune, and not being immediately engaged, as it should seem, in any work which exclusively demanded his attention, did not disdain the task of revising the manuscripts of authors, and superintending their labours through the press. For this employment, an adequate compensation was expected and rendered.

The parties, in the present instance, had frequently met, and were on certain terms of familiarity. One evening, the Doctor took the writer of these memoranda on one side, and proposed to him to undertake the revision of his work in manuscript, and the correction of it subsequently at the press. This was readily agreed to, but no terms were mentioned on either side.

The manuscript, which was of no ordinary bulk or extent, was received, examined with careful attention, at the expence of no small portion of time, and finally committed to the press.

It extended to no less than two large quarto volumes, and probably altogether a year, or somewhat more, was employed on the labour. In the interval, our Sexagenarian and his family used to speculate on the golden harvest about to be reaped, by way of compensation. What was it to be? a pipe of Madeira? a pair of silver candlesticks? a gold repeater?

At length, the last sheet was sent to press, and the day of publication announced. The corrector waited upon the author to felicitate him on his safe delivery. A week passed away—a fortnight—a month—still no Madeira—no piece of plate;—in short, no solid pudding, but a great deal of empty praise. However it was soon forgotten.

Temporis officium solatia dicere certi est.

And it was not always so. Similar occupations were afterwards thrown in the way, but he had the wisdom taught him by the experience he had obtained, to undertake nothing but with certain specifications of recompence.

This seems no improper opportunity of inserting a detached anecdote on the subject of compensation for literary labour, which occurs somewhere or other in our manuscript.

A venerable old clergyman, who had in part, directed the education of our friend, and who took a warm and friendly interest in his reputation and welfare, had been informed, with no benevolent intention, that he prostituted his learning and talents to needy booksellers.

The Sexagenarian, on some occasion or other, revisited the place where his friend and patron resided, and both from affection and gratitude, hastened to pay his respects, where they were so justly due. He was greatly surprised to find the warmth, with which he had hitherto, invariably, been welcomed, changed into extreme coldness.

On requesting an explanation, Sir, said the old gentleman, I am informed that you write for the booksellers, than which I cannot conceive any thing more degrading, or more unbecoming, a scholar and a gentleman.

Pray Sir, did not Addison, and Swift, and Pope, and before them Dryden, write for the booksellers?

Granted, but that was a very different matter: their reputation was established, and they moreover, obtained very large sums for their productions.

If, Sir, the largeness of the sum increases or diminishes, as you appear to conceive it does, the turpitude of the action, how much do you imagine I received for my last work? I beg you also to remember that I have a large and increasing family, and nothing to depend upon but my talents and my diligence.

Why perhaps fifty pounds.

I have received seven hundred guineas.

The old gentleman’s displeasure vanished in a moment. I cannot blame you, I cannot blame you, he exclaimed, and they parted as good friends as ever.

Now to return to the brother author Doctor. Bating this single circumstance of his being too tenacious of his money, he was a most agreeable, well-informed, and good-natured man. Though far advanced in years, he retained a great deal of vivacity, and has often enlivened a numerous circle by his facetiousness and humour. No one endured a jest with greater forbearance; and as he came from a country where the Mahometan law prevailed, and had written a detailed account of the usages and peculiarities of the haram, he was often laughingly reproached with availing himself of the privileges of the Mahometan law to its fullest extent. That he ranked as a bashaw of three tails, had four wives, &c. &c.

Ηδη μεν πολέων εδαην βουληντε νοοντε

Ανδρων ηρωων πολληνδ’ επεληλυθα γαιαν

Αλλ’ ουπω τοιουτον εγων ιδον οφθαλμοισιν

Οιον⸺

CHAPTER VIII.

Bruce appears to have been seen once, and once only, by our Sexagenarian, who nevertheless expresses, in various parts of his manuscript, a general confidence in his veracity, and a great admiration of his prowess and intrepidity. He lived intimately with some of Bruce’s most familiar friends, and had frequent opportunities of ascertaining that many assertions made by the traveller, like those of Herodotus, were confirmed by subsequent observation and examination. But it was Bruce’s peculiar character, that if he discerned, or ever suspected any want of confidence in his auditors, he disdained all explanation, and could not be prevailed upon to enter upon any further discussion.

He was a very great friend, and frequent correspondent of the individual mentioned in the pages immediately preceding, who was able, from his personal knowledge and local situation, to confirm many things asserted by Bruce, which were at first, in this country, thought equivocal. On his first return from his remote and protracted travels, he had some questions proposed to him on the subject of the Bible in the language of Abyssinia, by a venerable and highly distinguished member of our Church, which he answered very satisfactorily.—He afterwards voluntarily undertook to translate literally, a number of proposed texts from the Pentateuch of the Abyssinian Bible, in order that they might be compared with the English version. He did do this, but they were unfortunately mislaid among his numerous papers. They, however, are most probably in existence, and may hereafter appear.

A very ingenious clergyman, who was also well versed in the Oriental languages, made a Catalogue Raisonné of Bruce’s manuscript library, which of itself would be very acceptable to the learned world. The manuscripts, however, it is to be hoped, will not be permitted to remain buried in Scotland, but as they are of the greatest importance to the elucidation of Scripture, will hereafter be deposited in some of the public libraries of this country.

The following are some of these manuscripts:—

The Old Testament in five volumes, which do not contain the Psalms, but have a copy of Ludolph’s Æthiopic Psalter.

This was transcribed for Mr. Bruce at Gondar, by scribes of the country, upon vellum. The character is clear and beautiful, and there are marginal variations. Many of the books begin and end with a prayer, and as there was never before in Europe a perfect copy of the Æthiopic Scriptures, means should be taken to supply the Christian Church in Africa with a complete copy of the Bible.

The fourth volume contains the book of Enoch. There is moreover the New Testament in Æthiopic, in two volumes, also upon vellum.

The first volume contains a preliminary discourse upon the Gospels, and a Masoretic analysis of the verses and paragraphs.

The Apostolic writings are also found in two volumes, upon vellum. These four volumes, in all probability, compose the only perfect copy of the New Testament in Europe, written in the language of Abyssinia.

Another volume contains the constitutions of the Apostles. Another has the title of Synaxar, and is an history of the Saints venerated in Abyssinia.

The Arabic manuscripts are numerous and valuable.

The travels published by Bruce were greatly in favour with the Sexagenarian, who has left various annotations upon different passages, which they contain. Though very partial, on the whole, to this most extraordinary man, he was by no means blind to his errors, or insensible of his inaccuracies. His confidence in him was very materially diminished latterly, from having discovered, that Bruce, in all probability, never was at the battle of Sebraxos, which he nevertheless describes with circumstantial minuteness, and of which he has introduced plans, drawn up with the precision of one well versed in military tactics. There was also something remarkably mysterious and suspicious, as our friend seemed to think, in the circumstance and character of Luigi Balugani, who accompanied Bruce as a draughtsman. He owed more to his talents than he was willing to acknowledge, and the story of his death is glossed over in a very unsatisfactory manner.

There is a long dissertation in our manuscript, on Bruce’s theory of Solomon’s voyage to Ophir, and perhaps it may be an object of regret, that it is too long for insertion. The conclusions which Bruce drew from his premises are not conceded, nor does he appear to have had a very clear conception of the subject on which he was writing, and has failed altogether in proving that Sofola is Ophir.

To conclude this article, it appears, from the concurring testimonies of succeeding travellers, that Bruce was never appointed to the government of Ras el Feel, nor indeed to any government at all.

It may not, perhaps, be impertinent to subjoin, that among Bruce’s manuscripts is a Coptic manuscript on Papyrus.

It was found among the ruins of Thebes, in Egypt. It is written in the Sahidic or Theban dialect of the Coptic, that is of the language of the Pharoahs. The above manuscript has been described by Dr. Woide.

Orbis situm dicere, impeditum opus et facundiæ minime capax, constat enin fere ex gentium locorumque nominibus, et eorum perplexo satis ordine, quem persequi longa est magis quam benigna materia, verum adspici tamen cognoscique dignissimum, et quod sine ope ingenii Orantis ac ipsa sui contemplatione, pretium operæ attendentium absolvat.

CHAPTER IX.

Whether the person next named in our notes, properly comes under the head of celebrated travellers, may, perhaps, be disputed; but every one will allow, that as far as geographical knowledge is connected with voyages and travellers, there are few, if any, of modern times, to whom science is more indebted, than to Major R.

Before his time, we of this country, hardly knew any thing of the scientific construction of maps, and some individuals here were termed geographers to the King, who were totally ignorant of the principles of their profession. The Major, however, gave a notable example of what might be effected by personal observation, acting in conjunction with real science. The obligations which his country men owe him in this particular, cannot easily be explained, but he may be considered as the father of the English geographical school; and we now accompany a traveller in all those parts of the world, which he has undertaken to illustrate, with confidence and security.

The map of the peninsula of India is beyond all praise, and the elaborate dissertation by which it is accompanied, is perhaps the most perfect thing of the kind in our language.

How little did we know of Africa, till within the last twenty years, and how imperfect were the best geographical delineations of that region, not excepting that of D’Anville! How little also should we still have known even from the well-conducted, expeditions of Hornemann, Brown, Park, and others, if the same skilful hand had not assisted in the illustration of their several journeys.

The great question of all, however, whether the Niger has any communication with the Nile, still remains undetermined; the learned subject of this article is decidedly of opinion, that these rivers do not meet.

Like many other personages of distinguished merit and superior talents, the notes of our manuscript, represent this eminent geographer, as of the most placid and unassuming manners, communicating his knowledge with a modest diffidence, and listening to the suggestions, even of the less informed, without the smallest degree of ill-humour. The great work, however, by which his name will go down to posterity, is perhaps his illustration of the geography of Herodotus.

This too is announced in the Preface, to be only the first division of a larger work, which was intended to comprehend the whole of the ancient geography, as improved by the Grecian conquests and establishments, with such portions of military history, as appear to want explanation.

None of this had appeared when the manuscript, from which these extracts are made, was written.

The next character which presents itself in our manuscript annotations, is that of a very eccentric and whimsical Irish traveller. He also published a book of travels in Spain and Portugal, by no means uninteresting, or ill-written in itself, but which was bought up and rendered scarce on account of the great beauty of one of the plates, with which it was embellished.

He was the son of a Dutch merchant, who retired from Holland with a considerable fortune, to spend the remainder of his days in this country, and with this view, purchased property in one of our largest provincial towns. This traveller was his eldest son, and every thing he undertook or did, his studies, pursuits, habits, and acquaintance, were chosen with the most extraordinary waywardness. His characteristic principle was “fari quid sentiat,” without any very nice regard to time, circumstance, or persons. This was particularly obvious in all he published, and in a neighbouring island, involved him in no trifling perplexity or disgrace. By some thoughtless expression, he offended the females of the place which he visited, and they, to mark their contempt and indignation, thought proper to call a dishonourable utensil after his name, and had a striking caricature of his person visible at bottom.

He published, however, one standard work, upon chess, which will always be quoted with respect by all who are engaged in this particular pursuit, the varieties, chances, and labyrinths of which he well describes, and which any indifferent reader may peruse with satisfaction and amusement. What his ultimate situation in life was, or whether he yet survived, when these notes were written, was apparently unknown to the Sexagenarian. All that appears on this head is in the form of a query, thus:—Did he not afterwards engage unsuccessfully in business of a speculative kind, and lose the wreck of his fortune?

The traveller had a brother of some waywardness also, but who was very amiable, and, unlike the former, of the most unoffending manners. When young, he had not a mere liking, but an absolute passion for theatrical amusements. He in a manner attached himself to the provincial company of the place where he resided, accompanied them to whatever place they went, never absented himself from any of their performances, assisted them with his countenance on all occasions, his advice, and his purse.

This passion remained for a considerable number of years without the smallest abatement, till he finally formed a connection by marriage with a family, the heads of whom were distinguished by the very highest degrees of theatrical excellence, and not more deservedly popular for their eminence of this kind, than for their general accomplishments. This gentleman also was an author, but of a peculiar kind. His knowledge was indeed principally confined to his own language, in the literature of which, and more particularly in that which related to the Drama, he was remarkably well skilled. The performance which he produced had relation to the greatest ornament of our country, and which, if it was not entitled to the praise of genius, might reasonably claim that of care and diligence, of accuracy and usefulness.

Nam doli non doli sunt, nisi astu colas

Sed malum maxumum si id palam provenit.

CHAPTER X.

A name next occurs, but little known in this country, but in some degree implicated with the character of an Englishman, who appears to have obtained a celebrity, of which he was not altogether deserving. The first person is Martin Sauer, the latter, Joseph Billings.

Sauer accompanied Billings, as secretary, in an expedition, undertaken by the command of the Empress of Russia, to ascertain the latitude and longitude of the mouth of the river Kovima, the coast of the Tshutski, and of the islands in the Eastern ocean, stretching to the American coast. He came to this country, partly from commercial views, and partly to publish himself, his own account of this long and perilous voyage.

It was recommended to him, to obtain an introduction to our Sexagenarian, as being a person likely to facilitate his views, with respect to his meditated publication. He followed the advice, and an acquaintance took place, the result of which, gave rise to many curious notes and observations, which have place in our manuscript.

Sauer’s narrative was published a great many years since, and is very curious and interesting. When he arrived with Billings at the Bay of St. Lawrence, in the country of the Tshutski, they separated. Billings proceeded over land with much difficulty, and after escaping many dangers, till he arrived at the Kovima, and Sauer returned by sea to Kamtschatka.

It appears both from Sauer’s published narrative, and from many private documents and communications, that Billings was far from deserving the reputation he obtained, and that he was by no means qualified to undertake the superintendance of such an expedition. He was remarkably ignorant, and inflexibly obstinate. His ignorance, more than once in the voyage, induced him to mistake one place for another, and his obstinacy was the occasion of his losing two new vessels, constructed for his immediate use. A combination of both these qualities prevented his accomplishing the great object of his mission, which was to ascertain the existence of a north-west passage. In this he failed altogether. Billings, however, was a bold and hardy navigator, and though he did not accomplish that which was expected of him, is entitled to some share of respect. No notice has, however, hitherto been taken of him in any English book of biography.

Magnas dolebat aliquis amissas opes

Naufragio: Oceanum postulat de injuria;

At ille. Numquid dissimulavi qui forem?

Numquid voraces esse gurgites meos

Nescire debuisti?

CHAPTER XI.

Much favourable notice is made in our Memoranda relating to Browne, the African traveller, and many interesting conversations appear to have taken place on the subject of what he had actually observed, as well as of the expeditions which he meditated. He had the enthusiasm of visiting remote and less known regions so strong upon him, that the wonder is, he should so long remain at home after his return from Africa, however tedious, perilous, and painful, his residence at Darfour must necessarily have been.

No man, by his personal manners and appearance, his gravity, firmness, good sense, and judgment, appears to have been better qualified for undertakings of the kind. His demeanour was precisely that of a Turk of the better order. He conversed slowly and sparingly, never descended to familiarity, observed each and all of the company as if with jealousy and suspicion. But when this wore off, and intimacy was established, he was exceedingly communicative, and readily discussed the subjects about which he was most anxious, and best qualified, to impart information.

After much and long deliberation upon the subject, he finally determined upon the expedition, in the prosecution of which he lost his life. He proceeded by Malta to Smyrna, and from thence through Asia Minor, Amassya, Tokat and Armenia to Tebriz. At this place he remained a few weeks, expecting the arrival of the English Ambassador from Hamadan, the ancient Ecbatana. He lived with Sir G. O. some time at Tebriz, who gave him letters to Naserraddin Mirza, son of Beg Ján, King of Boccara, and to Ahmed Ali Mirza, the King of Persia’s son, the governor of Khorasan, and residing at Meshhed.

The Ambassador, moreover, procured him passports and letters from the King of Persia and his ministers, and a Mehmander, who would have been responsible for his life and property, as far as the Persian dominions extend. His impatience, however, to proceed, induced him to leave the king’s camp some hours before his Mehmander was ready, and being in a Turkish dress, and not known to be an Englishman, he was murdered by some wandering tribe of Kurds or Turkomans, near the Kaflán Kúh or Tiger Mountain, after having crossed the river Kezel Ouzan, which separates Azerbarján (Atropatera) from Irak.

He had no English attendant, but whilst he remained in Persia, kept one groom and one valet, both Persians, and had two or three horses.

He left no papers or memoranda behind him when he departed from Tebriz, but a few dispersed fragments were collected at the spot where the body was found.

He often avowed his intention of publishing his travels to Bokhara and Samarkand, and he purposed, had it been practicable, to return by the northern end of the Caspian sea, as he was to have gone by the southern end of it. The Ambassador made such representations to the King of Persia, that both he and his son Abbas Mirza took the greatest pains to discover the assassins.

Mr. B. was in appearance and indeed in fact, one of the most reserved men in the world—cold, cautious, and wary; and yet, in this last journey, he was so impatient to proceed, that he not only refused to wait for the escort, which the Ambassador undertook to provide for him, but he made a display of the gold which was to enable him to accomplish his purpose.

This last fact, though strongly asserted, is so incompatible with his general habits and character, that it may well excite a suspicion of its accuracy. True it certainly is, that the same morning brought to England the news of his safe arrival at Tabriz, on his way to Kurdistan, and of his being murdered by the very band, who undertook to be his guides and protectors.

The intelligence of his death came to England through Somnerat, the celebrated French traveller. It is, however, to be hoped, that as some of his papers remain in private hands, the public will have, sooner or later, the benefit of his observations, as far as he was actually able to proceed.

The annotations relating to Browne, in our manuscript, conclude with a paragraph, in which serious regret is expressed, at his scepticism with respect to religious subjects. Indeed he appears to have been an avowed disciple of the school of Volney, and the other miscreant writers of that stamp.

He has deformed and defaced his otherwise valuable publications, with some passages so bad as not to be transcribed, and some remarks which he has inserted on education, prove that he had adopted many of the wildest absurdities of the modern French philosophy.

The following particulars concerning the latter part of the life of Browne, are added by him who revised and has superintended the publication of these volumes.

His intention, as above stated, was to proceed from Tebriz to Khorasan, to the governor of which place he had the strongest recommendations from the English ambassador, then resident at Tebriz with the Persian monarch. This of itself being a distance of nearly a thousand miles, through a barbarous country, was an adventure sufficiently arduous to have deterred any other individual, of a less persevering and determined character. From Khorasan he purposed nevertheless to make his way to Samarcand, and thence to Turkistan, an undertaking which even to the best informed among the natives, appeared to be full of difficulty, as well as danger.

Sir Gore Ouseley, with the greatest kindness and promptitude, undertook to procure him the protection of a Mahmendar, an officer of the King, under whose escort, as far as Chorasan, he not only would have had personal security, but horses and provisions every where at his command, at the expence of the Persian government.

There was, however, some little delay in the equipment of this officer appointed to attend him, occasioned partly by the tardiness of the man himself, and partly by the negociation then near a conclusion between the courts of Russia and Persia, which necessarily occupied a considerable portion of the ambassador’s time.

Browne accordingly became impatient, and left Tebriz with two attendants only, directing the Mahmendar to follow him. This officer having received his instructions, and apprehensive of the English Ambassador’s resentment, lost no time in his endeavour to overtake the traveller. Most unfortunately he found him within forty miles of the Persian Monarch’s camp, barbarously murdered. Plunder does not appear to have been the object, as Mr. Browne’s papers, pistols, and effects, were recovered, and placed in the hands of Sir Gore Ouseley. His money, of which he had not a great deal, was certainly seized by his servant. But in all probability, he owed his death not so much to any improper display of his property, as to his invincible obstinacy with which he resisted all expostulation and remonstrance, in always wearing the Turkish dress. Now it happens that the Hordes, by some of whom Browne was murdered, entertain the most deadly hatred and animosity against the Turks, for one of whom in all probability he was mistaken.

Strict search was, however, made after his assassins, and a great number of the inhabitants of the district, where he died, were apprehended, upon whom the King of Persia, without any judicial proceeding, expressed to the ambassador his determination of inflicting the summary punishment of death. This, however, Sir Gore O. would not permit.

The surmise that he owed his death to the circumstance of his appearing as a Turk, is somewhat confirmed by the fact, that within a few months preceding this melancholy event, Sir William Ouseley, brother to the ambassador, and who accompanied him in his mission, passed this very spot without molestation.

It is a subject of the deepest regret, and a most serious loss to literature, that Browne did not live to fulfil the object of his expedition. How well qualified he was to increase our stores of geographical information, his work on Africa sufficiently attested. Of the countries which he meditated to visit, with the view of describing, our information is very scanty as well as unsatisfactory. These were more particularly the regions of Chorasan, Boccara, Samarcand, &c. concerning which regions, our best books of geography communicate very little.

(Further particulars from another hand.)

Notwithstanding all that has been said above, and the seeming attention and assistance paid to the English Ambassador’s endeavours to discover and punish Brown’s assassins, there is too much reason to apprehend that he fell a victim to the jealousy of the Persian government. People in those remote countries, and the Mahometans more particularly, have no conception whatever of a person’s undertaking the perils and fatigues of a long and distant journey, for the sake of intellectual or scientific improvement only. They invariably attach jealousy and suspicion to such a character wherever he appears, and impute to him, either political motives, or the desire of gain. The regions to which Browne directed his attention, were at the time in a very unquiet and unsettled state. The Persian Sovereign considered his authority over them, as precarious and insecure. The peace with Russia was not definitively concluded, and the government might, not improbably, entertain a suspicion, that Browne’s motive was political, and not the avowed one of curiosity alone. Several subsequent incidents, circumstantially considered, very much tend to corroborate the idea, that the Persian ministers were not entirely innocent of the death of this unfortunate traveller.

In the first place, his arms were not touched; his gun, double-barrelled pistols, and weapons were all preserved and carefully returned to the English Ambassador. So also were his papers of every kind, and indeed each article of his property, except his money, which it was generally understood was seized by his servant and secretary.

In the next place, one of our artillery-men, who was stationed at Ispahan, on some provocation he had received, neglect of pay, personal affront, or some other cause of offence, abruptly left the place, and undismayed by the danger and the distance, endeavoured to make his way to Tebriz, where the Ambassador was then resident, in the court of the Persian Monarch. He then proceeded in spite of every obstacle, nearly to the spot where Browne was murdered, when he was stopped, as it should seem, by some of the miscreants, who had imbrued their hands in the blood of his countryman. They insisted upon his immediate return, which for a long time he refused to do, till at length they told him that if he did not, they would treat him as they did the Englishman the other day.

Browne, when at Tebriz, had lived at the house of Colonel D⸺, who commanded the artillery sent to Persia from this country. This gentleman was greatly affected at the news of Browne’s death, and determined, if possible, to obtain his remains for burial. He accordingly availed himself of the influence he possessed, and obtained from the Persian ministers, the necessary mandate, that Browne’s remains should be delivered to the Colonel’s messengers.

He employed for this purpose a trusty serjeant, who proceeded to the spot. On producing the minister’s orders to the principal person of the place, he was informed that the mandate was so peremptory, that it could not be resisted, but at the risk of his head, and he would immediately give the necessary directions for the bones to be collected. Much evasion was nevertheless practised, and so much time lost, that the honest serjeant became impatient, and declared that if what he came for was not immediately produced, he would return without them. At this moment, two men, with each a small burden, were seen approaching, who were declared to have with them what was wanted.

They were delivered to the serjeant, who, as directed, rewarded the parties, and hastened to return. The English gentlemen had intended to come out in a body to meet the relics, had ordered a coffin covered with black velvet to receive them, and intended to inter them with the usual ceremonies of the church. But the serjeant had already returned, and deposited the charge in the officer’s house. The surgeon of the British establishment undertook to examine the bones, and arrange them, but on closer inspection it appeared that a gross imposition had been practised. There was indeed a part of a skull, but the other bones were certainly not human, but belonged to some animal.

Since the above was written, information has been received, that a gentleman, an intimate connection of the traveller, has obtained possession of his papers, and of various documents relating to him and his meditated journies. These are methodizing and preparing for the press.

Qui demissi in obscuro vitam agunt, Pauci sciunt—fama atque fortuna eorum pares sunt—qui in excelso ætatem agunt, eorum facta cuncti mortales novere.

CHAPTER XII.

From Browne let us proceed to the character next in succession, who had not his imperfections, and with whom the Sexagenarian appears to have had much and familiar intercourse. This was the Ambassador from the East India Company to the court of Ava, during the government of Sir John Shore, afterwards Lord Teignmouth. Before this mission, our geographical knowledge of Ava, and the contiguous countries, was exceedingly imperfect and inaccurate. The few books which had been published on the subject, were principally French, and were confined to unsatisfactory descriptions of Siam and Pegu; whereas the empire of Ava comprehends both Siam and Pegu, which are subordinate and tributary to the court of Ummo-rapoora, or, as it is there denominated, “The Golden Foot.” It extends to Tibet and China on the north, and on the south to Junkseylon.

Geographical perplexities were, however, cleared up, and errors, particularly with regard to the Great River Irrawaddy, removed by this expedition of M.S. For example, the river which connects Pegu with the ocean, was by former geographers continued from beyond Pegu, to the frontiers of China; whereas the main river, the mouth of which is Rangoon, passes through Prome to the capital, and to the borders of China. The Pegu river is relatively an unimportant stream, taking its rise a very little way above Pegu.

By the assistance of Major Rennell and Mr. Dalrymple, the geography of Ava has now received great illustration; and jealous as that nation still continues to be, with respect to the admission of Europeans among them, political necessities, as well as the expediency of commercial interchange, will probably, in the progress of a few years, remove whatever obscurities may yet remain.

With respect to the people themselves, of their manners and customs, the productions of their soil, their religion, and their learning, the European world was almost in entire ignorance. With the exception of a small volume, translated from the French, and entitled “A Relation of the Voyage to Siam, performed by Six Jesuits, sent by the French King to the Indies and China in 1685,” there was no book in the English language illustrative of the subject.

No person was, in the opinion of the Sexagenarian, who has so expressed himself in our notes, better qualified in all respects for such an expedition than Major S—s. He combined the firmness of the soldier with the courteous manners of the gentleman, and he found the union of these qualities, of no small importance in the progress of his undertaking. He accordingly succeeded to the full extent of his views, and to the entire satisfaction of his employers. This latter circumstance is sufficiently attested by his being dispatched a second time to the same place, to explain some misconceptions which had taken place on the part of the Ava government. Of this second expedition, however, no public notice has been taken, nor did the traveller avail himself of the opportunity thus offered, to correct or enlarge what he had before written and published on the subject.

It is rather remarkable, that so very little should have been previously known of an empire, second only in extent to that of China. The Sovereign considers himself as the greatest Potentate upon earth, and indeed nothing can be more ostentatiously splendid than the grandeur of his court.

The East India Company thought so highly of the services rendered them by their agent, that they voted him a donation of twelve thousand Sicca rupees.

On his return to his native country, his active spirit found various opportunities of employment. He obtained a seat in Parliament, he was confidentially employed in some important offices by government, and having retained his situation in the army, refused to resign it, when he might, without the smallest imputation on his honour, or his courage, have retired. He accordingly joined his regiment in the Peninsula, and distinguished himself as well by his personal exertions, as by testimonies of diplomatic skill and acuteness.

But his constitution had long been shaken; he had never entirely recovered his wonted energy, after his second expedition to the court of Ava. He was engaged in the unfortunate expedition of Sir John Moore, and though he survived the battle of Corunna, and got safe back to England, he died very shortly afterwards, really exhausted by debility and fatigue. He certainly was one of those personages, of whom some memorial should be preserved, and as none have preceded the present, imperfect and inadequate as this may be, it will be far, it is hoped, from rendering him dishonour.

Ite nunc fortes ubi celsa magni

Ducit exempli via.

CHAPTER XIII.

With no less degree of familiarity, and with an equal portion of esteem, is represented the name and character of the Ambassador from the East India Company, to the court of the Teesho Lama, in Tibet. Materials for biographical sketches, are in general easily collected, and when used with skill, importantly contribute both to information and amusement. But it rarely happens, that the writer or compiler of such sketches has the advantage which our Sexagenarian possessed, of a personal intimacy with so many individuals, of such various talents, pursuits, and employments.

With this last traveller the intercourse appears to have been frequent and familiar, and it should seem that he had been consulted on the subject of one of the most curious and interesting works in our language.

What had been vaguely and imperfectly represented of Bootan, Tibet, and its Lama, had, till this work appeared, rather the character of Oriental fiction, than of grave, sober, and accurate narrative. Fiction itself, indeed, can hardly proceed further than is exemplified in the Tibetian idea of their Lama, who though he never ceases to exist, withdraws himself from the world, when the body, which he has vouchsafed to inhabit, decays from age or disease, and at a proper interval, again makes his appearance, by animating an infant; his presence in whom is unequivocally ascertained by certain well-known and characteristic symbols.