University of Virginia Library

These verses were sent to the Gentleman's Magazine by Dr Darwin, a short time after they had been presented to him by their author, and sent without her knowledge, and with an alteration in the concluding lines; which alteration invokes the nymph of Botany to grace the scene. They are here inscribed as they were originally printed. Fourteen years after, in the spring 1792, the first part of that splendid poem, The Botanic Garden, appeared, which had been some years oddly preceded by the second part of the work. In that first part its author has placed the above verses as the exordium of his poem, with some slight verbal alterations, and with a few brilliant lines of his own interwoven. There is no hint in the notes, or even by a quotation mark, that this poetic landscape was the work of another pen. The circum- stance would have been immaterial, if the lines had not ap- peared in print with the name of their author; but that cir- cumstance rendered that claim necessary. Other periodical publications of that day copied them from the Gentleman's Magazine.

In a gloomy recess of this dell, there is a rock that drops about once in every minute, alike in dry and wet seasons.

Dr Darwin is here considered as the genius of the place, since he first cultivated and adorned the tangled and swampy plain.

The Author claimed these verses in Dr Darwin's life- time. Two years before he died, they appeared in her name, in Shaw's History of Staffordshire.

The institution of Bath-Easton was a charitable one.

Lady Miller, patrouess of that poetic institution, at her villa, near Bath, always appointed the subject of the verses written for the festival. A description of its ceremonies will be found prefixed to the Author's Monoday on Lady Miller.

Lear.

Macbeth.

Hamlet.

Richard the Third.

Samian Sage.—Pythagoras.

Alluding to a celebrated picture of Mrs Kauffman's, The Nymphs disarming Cupid.

These are very tall rocks around Bermuda.

See Shakspeare's Tempest, where Ariel alludes to the high surf around this island.

The sea breezes at Bermuda come on about noon, and last till day-dawn.

In those latitudes the sun shines out instantaneously on the break of dawn.

The Peterel is a bird found in the frozen seas; its neck and tail are white, and its wings of a bright blue.

“In the course of the last 24 hours, we passed through several fields of broken ice; they were in gencral narrow, but of considerable extent. In one part the pieces of ice were so close, that the ship had much difficulty to thread them.”

“Our sails and rigging were so frozen, that they seemed plates of iron.”

The breaking of one of these immense mountains of ice, and the prodigious noise it made, is particularly described in Cook's second voyage to the South Pole.

“After running four leagues this course, with the ice on our starboard side, we found ourselves quite embayed, the ice extending from north-north-east, round by the west and south, to east, in one compact body; the weather was tolerably clear, yet we could see no end to it.”

“To carry a green branch in the hand on landing, is a pacific signal, universally understood by all the islanders in the South Seas.”

The exchange of names is a pledge of amity among these islanders, and was frequently proposed by them to Captain Cook and his people; so also is the joining noses.

Captain Cook left various kinds of animals upon this coast, together with garden-seeds, &c. The Zealanders had hitherto subsisted upon fish, and such coarse vegetables as their climate produced; and this want of better provision, it is supposed, induced them to the horrid practice of eating human flesh.

The coral rocks are described as rising perpendicularly from the greatest depths of the ocean, insomuch that the sounding-line could not reach their bottom; and yet they were but just covered with water. These rocks are now found to be fabricated by sea-insects.

“We had now passed several months with a man constantly in the chains heaving the lead.”

“On one part of this isle there was a solitary rock, rising on the coast with arched cavities, like a majestic temple.”

Flora is the Goddess of modern Botany, and Fauna of modern Zoology: hence the pupils of Linnæus call their books Flora Anglica—Fauna Danica, &c. “The Flora of one of these islands contained 30 new plants.”

In New Zealand is a flag of which the natives make their nets and cordage. The fibres of this vegetable are longer and stronger than our hemp and flax; and some, manufactured in London, is as white and glossy as fine silk. This valuable vegetable will probably grow in our climate.

The Kangroo is an animal peculiar to those climates. It is perpetually jumping along on its hind legs, its fore legs being too short to be used in the manner of other quadrupeds.

“The Poi-bird, common in those countries, has feathers of a fine mazarine blue, except those of the neck, which are of a beautiful silver grey; and two or three short white ones, which are in the pinion-joint of the wing. Under its throat hang two little tufts of curled white feathers, called its poies, which, being the Otaheitean word for ear-rings, occasioned our giving that name to the bird; which is not more remarkable for the beauty of its plumage, than for the exquisite melody of its note.”

The bats which captain Cook saw in some of these countries were of incredible dimensions, measuring three feet and a half in breadth, when their wings were extended.

“As we passed this island, many of its trees had an unusual appearance, and the richness of the vegetation much invited our naturalists to land, but their earnest wishes were in vain, from the dangerous reefs and the violence of the surfs.”

Captain Cook observes, in his second voyage, that the women of Otaheite were grown more modest, and that the barbarous practice of destroying their children was lessened.

The Morai is a kind of funeral altar, which the people of Otaheite raise to the memory of their deceased friends. They bring to it a daily tribute of fruits, flowers, and the plumage of birds. The chief mourner wanders around it in a state of apparent distraction, shrieking furiously, and striking at intervals a shark's tooth into her head. All people fly her, as she aims at wounding not only herself, but others.

Milton, in his Paradise Lost, uses that fine old word, synonimous to the common word frozen.

Also Spencer,

—This Ode was written at the end of that remarkable fine year, 1779, during which there was scarce any winter; but at that period England was involved in the ruinous miseries of the American war.

Goddess of Vengeance.

Alluding to captain Donellan's murder of sir Theodosius Boughton by laurel-water—an event, which at that time agitated the public mind considerably.

See the Dying Indian in Dodsley's poems:

Alluding to the conquest by Lord Cornwallis.

The Court-martial decree, signed at Tappan, for Major Andre's execution.

The name by which Mr Andre addressed the author in his correspondence with her.

Mr Andre had conspicuous talents for poetry, music, and painting. The newspapers mentioned a satiric poem of his upon the Americans, which was supposed to have stimulated their barbarity towards him. Of his wit and vivacity, the letters subjoined to this poem afford ample proof. They were addressed to the author by Mr Andre when he was a Youth of eighteen.

Miss Honora S---, to whom Mr Andre's attachment was of such singular constancy, died in a consumption, a few months before he suffered death at Tappan. She had married another gentleman, four years after her connection with Mr Andre had, by parental authority, been dissolved. To that marriage her father gave a reluctant consent. So groundless was the idea of the Reviewers, who, when this poem was first published, imagined, from some expressions, whose sense they had mistaken, that she was urged into wedlock against her inclination.

Mr Andre drew two miniature pictures of Miss Honora S---, on his first acquaintance with her at Buxton, in the year 1769, one for himself, the other for the author of this poem.

The tidings of Honora's marriage: Upon that event Mr Andre quitted his profession as a merchant, and joined our army in America.

“I have a mother, and three sisters, to whom the value of my commission would be an object, as the loss of Grenada has much affected their income. It is needless to be more explicit on this subject, I know your Excellency's goodness.” See major Andre's last letter to General clinton, published in the Gazette.

The miniature of Honora. A letter from Major Andre to one of his friends, written at that period, contained the following sentence. “I have been taken prisoner by the Americans, and stript of every thing except the picture of Honora, which I concealed in my mouth. Preserving that, I yet think myself fortunate.”

Julius Cæsar, act 4. sc. 4.

The concurrent testimony even of the British officers, during the years which have elapsed since this poem was first published, acquits general Washington of that imputed cruelty, which had so forcibly impressed the grieved heart of the author, concerning the sacrifice of major Andre's life. They acknowledge that there was but one way to have saved the gallant sufferer, viz. by general Arnold having been given up in exchange, who had fled to the English army. It was believed by the American officers, that general Arnold had so taken his measures, that if the projected interview with Andre had been discovered, while they were together, it might have been in his power to have sacrificed Andre to his own safety. This report was urged to the prisoner by an American officer, commissioned from general Washington, who wished his preservation, to induce him to write to general Clinton, requesting him to propose the exchange—but major Andre would not listen a moment to the suggestion. However, though it is urged, that general Washington could not, with safety to himself, and justice to his country, set aside the decision of the court-martial, surely it was in his power to have rendered the manner in which major Andre was to suffer, less wounding to the sensibility of an intrepid spirit.

The place where major Andre was put to death.

Our whole army in America went into mourning for major Andre, a distinguished tribute to his merit.

This Ode was written on the publication of Mr Hayley's Triumphs of Temper.

Elfin Sprite.—Sophrosyne, the Goddess of Mr Hayley's supernatural machinery in that poem.

Museus.—The name Mason allots to Pope in his beautiful Monody on that Poet.

First plate in the Rake's Progress.

See the second plate—the Brothel.

See the third plate—the Arrestment.

See the fourth plate—the Marriage.

See the fifth plate—the Gaming Table.

See the last plate—Bedlam.

The first of Mr Hayley's admirable Poems on the Sciences, is addressed to his friend Romney, and characterizes the great painters, ancient and modern, comparing them with the poets.

It is said, the characters of Werter, Charlotte, and Albert, the disastrous passion of the former, and the terrible event it produced, were real, together with nearly all the sentiments in Werter's letters; heightened, no doubt, in the powers of eloquence, by passing through the pen of the celebrated German novelist. There has been much ridiculous cant about the fancied immorality of these interesting volumes. The long miseries and tragic death of Werter, breathe an awful warning against imitating his error, and evince the fatal power of indulging an hopeless passion, even for a most amiable object, to blast the destiny, and to render fruitless all the virtues of a naturally generous and good young man. Absurd censurers are angry that he is not made despicable, because he was criminally indiscreet. They are incensed that his woes excite compassion. With equal justice, Othello might be deemed an immoral play, because we cannot with-hold our esteem and pity from the man, who, giving way to suspicious appearances, murders his innocent wife. Werter, by giving way to his affection for an engaged woman, though without the least design to seduce her, renders his own existence insupportable. There is no temptation to copy the conduct of either character; therefore neither the play, nor the novel, can justly be taxed with having an immoral tendency. The light of moral warning breaks out stronger, from beneath the shades in such characters, than from the unmingled brightness of those, who are represented faultless, or at least exempt from any very marked error.

Sensitive plant.

Mr Hayley celebrated Mr Wright's talent in his first great Work, Epistles on Painting.

Mr Wright's Moonlight Views of Matlock.—18. His Vesuvius—18. His Virgil's tomb.

His Julia, banished to a desert island by her grandfather, Augustus, for her amours with Ovid.

This poem, as far as the 64th line, was written in the chaise, returning from Coleshill to Lichfield, the author having accompanied Mr Hayley so far on his road to London in December 1781.

Perhaps the generality of people have not sufficiently attended to the operation of their minds, respecting the personal idea they retain of the long absent, or the dead, so as clearly to comprehend the eight ensuing lines.

No picture, be it ever so well painted, can vie with the memory in that exactness, with which she presents, early in absence, the image of that form and face, whose lineaments are dear to us. Therefore, actual pictures of beloved friends would not be so eagerly coveted, but that we render this darling, internal image indistinct, by recalling it too frequently; as that strength of line, which gives sharpness and spirit to a copper-plate, becomes injured after a certain number of impressions have been taken off. By repeated use, the plate, if not retouched, will produce only a dim and shadowy mass, in which the features and countenance cannot be very distinctly discerned.

So it is with the memory, after continual recurrence, and pressure of the affections upon the image she presents, which, for a considerable period, she had presented with that perfect precision, to which no powers of the pencil can attain;—but, in time, the image becomes indistinct, not from any decay in the powers of memory; not from the affections growing cold, but merely from intense and incessant recurrence. Yes, it is beneath the constant glow of ardent imagination, that the impression, given by memory, has faded. Then it is that a good, nay even an indifferent picture, or a paper-profile of a dear lost friend, strengthens our recollection, in the same manner that retouching a copper-plate restores its power of giving animated impressions.

The author wishes that all who peruse these remarks, and have dispositions sufficiently affectionate to contemplate fervently, and often, in their own minds the image of one, fondly beloved, whom they have, for a length of years, or for ever lost, would recollect if, after a time, they were able to recall that image with equal precision, as they could remember the features, and air, of other deceased, or absent persons, with whom they had been well acquainted, but of whom, being less interesting to their affections, they had only casually thought. The superior distinctness with which the less beloved image comes back to the mind, upon its summons, proves the philosophic truth of these remarks, and is the cause why we so fondly desire the penciled remembrance of those we love, to refresh that ideal image which intense and perpetual contemplation had rendered evanescent. Locke says—“The pictures drawn in our minds of our absent friends, are laid in fading colours, which, if not sometimes refreshed, will vanish and disappear.” It might have been expected that a philosopher so accurate and discriminating, would have pursued the observation, and reminded us, that there are two causes, exactly opposite to each other, which produce this vanishing; viz. the mind not having dwelt upon the originals of those its pictures often enough to make their image strong and vivid after long absence; —and, its too frequently casting upon such inshrined resemblances, the dazzling light of fervent meditation. It is not meant that fervent meditation will produce forgetfulness of the general idea of the persons of those we fondly regret, but that it will, in time, make us unable to recall them with that precision we desire, without the help of the pencil.

The celebrated painter.

Alluding to the tradition of a battle fought in the time of the Romans, and to the remains of the warriors' tombs on the scene of action, Berocop Hill, near the city.

Lichfield stood a siege by Cromwell's army, in the civil war of that period.

—Johnson and Garrick were both edueated at Lichfield, under the author's maternal grandfather, the Rev. John Hunter, Prebendary of the Cathedral, and Master of the Free-School.

—It was Mr Hayley's custom, during his fortnight's residence at Lichfield, to walk in the side aisles of the Cathedral during choir-service at evening prayers, which are always performed by candle-light in winter. The arches of those aisles were then open at top into the choir. When the church was altered, in the year 1788, the arches were closed up, which prevents all the fine effect of dubious light and shadow, described in the ensuing lines. On week days the choir is but imperfectly illuminated.

Unforeseen business obliged Mr Hayley to abridge his purposed visit to Mr Seward and his daughter.

Stow church stands in the little rural valley, overlooked by the east front of the Bishop's palace, the residence of Mr Seward and his family.

Milton, in the close of his sonnet to Mr Laurence, insinuates that there is danger in too frequently indulging the luxury of intellectual society, thus—

The late lady Millar, of Bath-Easton, near Bath, held an assembly at that elegant villa, once a fortnight during the Bath season. She rendered this meeting a poetical institution, giving out subjects at each assembly for poems to be read at the ensuing one.

The verses were deposited in an antique Etruscan vase, and were drawn out by gentlemen appointed to read them aloud, and to judge of their rival merits. These gentlemen, ignorant of the authors, selected three poems from the collection which they thought most worthy of the three myrtle wreaths, decreed as the rewards and honours of the day. The names of the persons who had obtained the prizes were then announced by lady Millar. Once a year the most ingenious of these productions were published. Four volumes have already appeared, and the profits been applied to the benefit of a charity at Bath; so that lady Millar's institution was not only calculated to awaken and cultivate ingenuity, but to serve the purposes of benevolence and charity. It had continued about six years, and ceased with the death of its amiable patroness.— That event happened in July, 1781.

An elegy to the memory of lady Millar, set to music for three voices, by Dr Harrington, of Bath.

The Reviewers.

See Miss Winford's elegant poem, the Hobby Horse, printed in the fourth volume of Poetical Amusements at Bath Easton.

See Miss Rogers's Invocation to the Comic Muse, fourth volume of Poetical Amusements.

Rev. Mr Graves, of Claverton, anthor of the Spiritual Quixote, &c.

Alluding to the Chorus Ex Prometheo, presented to the vase by the Hon. Charles Fielding, then of Harrow School. See fourth volume of Poetical Amusements.

Rev. Mr Butt, rector of Stamford, in Worcestershire. His verses on the Pythagorean System had the wreath. See fourth volume of Poetical Amusements.

Mr Jerningham, though a Roman catholic, has ably combated monastic enthusiasm, in his ingenious poem, the Nun.

See Mr Jerningham's Funeral of Aribert.

Rev Mr Whalley, of Langford Court, near Bristol, author of that interesting love poem, Edwy and Edilda.

The learned and Rev. Mr Potter, translator of Æschylus.

Lady Millar's poetic institution was also a charitable one.

Elegy on captain Cook—Monody on major Andre.

Monody on lady Miller.

Alluding to the Retirement, published by Mr Stevens, in 1782, the first of a small, but beautiful collection of poems, printed for Ab. Portal of the Strand; Faulder, of New Bond-street; and Kearsley, No. 46, Fleet-street. This work went through two editions, though it met the utmost injustice that dullness and spleen could produce, in one of the leading Reviewers. No compositions, especially those of so young a man, are without imperfections. The few defects of Retirement were assiduously pointed out, and exaggerated, and many unexceptionable lines and expressions clumsily ridiculed; while the numerous passages of striking and unborrowed beauty, were passed over in silence; but the Gentleman's Magazine did more justice to those excellencies, which must impress and delight every reader, who possesses any portion of poetic taste.

Referring to Mr Stevens' beautiful descriptions in his poem, Retirement, of the hard fate of those great poets, Spencer, Milton, Otway, Collins, and Chatterton, each of whom struggled with the evils of neglect and poverty; and all, except Milton, became their victims. I am tempted to instance here the passages which relate to Collins and Chatterton, to prove that in praising the genius of Mr Stevens, I have not been influenced by partiality.

This poem was written in retropection of that fatal American war, which dismembered the British Empire.