From hence the captain diverges to other of his achievements. “I used to rise, before we had firemen, at the dead of night or morning with my apprentices at any alarm of fire, desiring all women, children, and lookers on, if they did not help they were of harm, being in the way. I put in my bulletins, you are to take the left of all you meet in riding, and the right in walking. I was the means of the watering cart to lay the dust of the streets in summer. I have subscribed to all the institutions at Exeter, and at rejoicings of news I was not behindhand. When I saw the allied sovereigns in London, I compared colonel Hain of the North Devon, if he wore mustachios, to marshal Blucher, who came forward to his window at signals; Mr. Chubb, of St. Thomas, Exeter, and Mr. Gribble, attornies, of Newton Bushel, to the emperor Alexander in face; the king of Prussia and his sons like healthy English country esquires in their best clothes. I saw the duke of Wellington, who looked thinner than his picture. I saw Buonaparte at Torbay, exact like his picture; a huge stiff broad back, strong neck, big calf to his legs, he looked about fifty, and about five feet eight, resembling a country master builder, a sturdy one, full of thought as about a building.—I end this pamphlet. Four words: thought is the quickest; time the wisest; the laws of necessity the strongest; truth the most durable.

“This from a Devonshire Jog-trot, who has done enough to be termed a public character in his way; a John Bull tradesman.

“John Cooke.”

“Waterloo Cottage,
18th Feb. 1819.”

So end the achievements of the chief of the javelin-men of Exeter, written by himself, concerning whom, give me leave, Mr. Editor, to inquire, if there be any thing more to be told than is set down in his book. I think that captain Cooke’s “Skimmington” took place after he favoured the public with appearing in print; and I remember to have heard that the procession was highly ludicrous, and honoured by every shop in the High-street of Exeter being closed, and every window above being filled. I may venture to affirm in behalf of your readers, that an account of it would be highly amusing; and if it be agreeable to your inclination, as I think it may, that such a narrative of the recent celebration of a very ancient custom should be permanently recorded, do me the favour to let me express an earnest hope that some of your Exeter readers will enable you to give particulars in the Table Book.

I. V.

[Communications respecting the ceremony referred to in the preceding letter will be very acceptable, and are therefore solicited.—Editor.]

Garrick Plays.
No. XXXIV.

[From the “Antipodes,” further extracts: see No. XX]

A Doctor humours his patient, who is crazed with reading lying books of travels, by pretending that he himself has been a great traveller in his time.

Peregrine, the patient. Doctor. Lady.

Scene, at the Antipodes.

N.B. In the Antipodes, every thing goes contrary to our manners: wives rule their husbands; servants govern their masters; old men go to school again, &c.

Son. Servant. Gentleman, and Lady, natives. English Traveller.

[From the “Asparagus Garden,” a Comedy, by the same Author, 1634.]

Private Conference.

Timothy Hoyden, the Yeoman’s Son, desires to be made a Gentleman. He consults with his friends.

Old Striker, after a quarrelling bout with old Touchwood.

C. L.

BEAR AND TENTER.

To the Editor.

Morley, near Leeds, July, 1827.

Sir,—On surveying the plays and pastimes of children, in these northern parts especially, it has often struck me with respect to some of them, that if traced up to their origin, they would be found to have been “political satires to ridicule such follies and corruptions of the times, as it was, perhaps, unsafe to do in any other manner.” In this conjecture I have lately been confirmed, by meeting with a curious paper, copied from another periodical work by a contributor to the old London Magazine, vol. for 1738, p. 59. It is an article which many would doubtless be glad to find in the Table Book, and nobody more so than myself, as it would be a capital accompaniment to my present remarks.

To come at once to the point; we have, or rather had, a few years ago, a game called the “bear and tenter,” (or bear and bear warden, as it would be called in the south,) which seems, certainly, to have been one of the sort alluded to. A boy is made to crawl as a bear upon his hands and knees, round whose neck is tied a rope which the keeper holds at a few yards’ distance. The bystanders then buffet the bear, who is protected only by his keeper, who, by touching any of the assailants, becomes liberated; the other is then the bear, and the buffeted bear becomes the keeper, and so on. If the “tenter” is sluggish or negligent in defence of his charge, it is then that the bear growls, and the blows are turned upon the guardian, wholly or partially, as the bearbaiters elect.

Now, my conjecture as to the origin of the game of “bear and tenter” is this.—Our English youths and their tutors, or companions, were formerly distinguished in foreign countries by the names of the bear and the bear leader, from the absurd custom of sending out the former, (a boisterous, ungovernable set,) and putting them under the care of persons unfit to accompany them. These bears were at first generally sprigs of royalty or nobility, as headstrong as need be; and the tutor was often some needy scholar, a Scotsman, or a courtier, who knew little more of the world than his pupil; but who, when he had put on his bag-wig and sword, was one of the most awkward and ridiculous figures imaginable. While these people were abroad, there can be no doubt that they were formerly the dupes and laughingstocks of those who dealt with them; and that, in exchange for the cash out of which they were cheated, they brought home a stock of exotic follies, sufficient to render them completely preposterous characters in the eyes of their own countrymen. Considering therefore how much good English gold was wasted and lost in these travels, how hurtful to the national pride the practice was, and how altered for the worse were both guardian and ward, it is not to be wondered at if the middling and lower classes of Englishmen were highly incensed or disgusted. But as complaints would, at least, be unavailing when such persons as “Baby Charles” and “Stenny” Buckingham were the “bear and tenter,” the people revenged themselves, as far as they dared, by the institution of this game, in which they displayed pretty well what hard knocks, ill treatment, derision, and scorn, awaited those who forsook their homes to wander in a land of strangers. And not only so, but they illustrated, at the same time, the contamination which ensued the touch of bad tutors, and the general character of the parties ridiculed.

I am well aware, Mr. Editor, that there was formerly a pastime of buffeting the bear; but that, as I apprehend, was a very different sport from that of “bear and tenter,” and had not a political origin. That this had, I am well assured, from the game being kept up in these parts, where the Stuarts were ever almost universally execrated; where patriotism once shone forth in meridian splendour, and the finest soldiers that the world ever saw, were arranged under the banners of Cromwell, of Fairfax, or of Lambert.

I remain, yours respectfully,
N. S.

GLANCES AT BOOKS ON MY TABLE.

The History and Antiquities of Weston Favell, in the County of Northampton. By John Cole, Editor of ‘Herveiana,’ &c. Scarborough: Printed (only 50 copies) and published by John Cole; and Longman and Co. London, 1827.—8vo. pp. 74.

According to Mr. Cole, Weston Favell is entered in Domesday book as “Westone,” and the addition of Favell was derived from a family of that name, who formerly possessed the manor. From each of three mansions standing there at the commencement of the last century, but not one of which remained at its close, the important equipage of a “coach and six” formerly issued to the admiration of the villagers. The church is dedicated to St. Peter, “and consists of a body, south porch, and chancel, with a coped tower at the west end, containing five bells.” Mr. C. remarks, on the authority of tradition, that the tower had once a spire to it, which was many years ago destroyed by lightning; and this observation induces him to cite, by way of note, that “Tradition is a very poetical, a very pleasing personáge; we like to meet him in our travels, and always ask him a question. You will find him grey and blind, sitting among old ruins, and ‘Death standing, dim, behind.’”

Mr. Cole copies several monumental inscriptions within the church, chiefly in memory of the Hervey family, and one especially on his favourite, viz.:—

HERE LIE THE REMAINS
OF THE REV. JAMES HERVEY, A. M.
LATE RECTOR OF THIS PARISH:
THAT VERY PIOUS MAN
AND MUCH ADMIRED AUTHOR!
WHO DIED DEC. 25TH 1758
IN THE 45TH YEAR OF HIS AGE.

Such are the lines on the tomb of the author of the “Meditations among the Tombs; Reflections on a Flower Garden; and Contemplations on the Night, and on the Starry Heavens.” He was buried under the middle of the communion-table in the chancel: when his body was conveyed to the church it was covered, according to his express desire, with the poor’s pall. He was the most popular rector of Weston Favell, of which living he was the patron and incumbent, as his father had been. Hervey was not born in that parish, but in the neighbouring one of Hardingston.

In this house (the representation of which is derived from Mr. Cole’s History of Weston Favell) the author of the “Meditations” first saw light. He was instructed by his mother in reading till the age of seven, and then sent to the free grammar-school at Northampton, where he remained till seventeen, at which age his father placed him at Lincoln college, Oxford, and there he resided seven years, and gained an exhibition of twenty pounds. In 1736 he returned to his father, who was then rector of Weston Favell, and became his curate. In May, 1737, he succeeded the celebrated George Whitefield in the curacy of Dummer, Hampshire, and in about a twelvemonth removed to Stoke Abbey, Devon, where he lived with his friend, Mr. Orchard, upwards of two years. In 1739 he accepted the curacy of Bideford, which he retained till his final settlement at Weston Favell, where he

It was in Hervey’s native parish, Hardingston, that the battle of Northampton was fought on the 10th of July, 1460, and king Henry VI. taken prisoner by the earl of Warwick: the duke of Buckingham, the earl of Shrewsbury, and other noblemen were killed: and many of the slain were buried in the convent of Delapre, and at St. John’s hospital, Northampton. In Hardingston parish is a military work, supposed to have been raised by the Danes, and therefore called the Danes’ camp.

The wake of Weston Favell is held on the next Sunday after St. Peter’s day. In the afternoon the rector preaches an appropriate sermon, the choristers prepare suitable psalms, and throngs of visitants from the neighbouring villages attend the service in the church. During the first three or four days of the feast-week there are dances at the inns, with games at bowls and quoits, and throughout the week there are dinner and tea-parties from the environs, whose meetings usually conclude with a ball. On St. Valentine’s day the village lads and lasses assemble, and go round with a wish of “Good morrow, morrow, Valentine!” to the principal inhabitants, who give money to the juvenile minstrels. On Shrove Tuesday, at noon, it is the custom to ring one of the church-bells, called the “Pancake bell;” its sound intimates a holiday and allowance of sport to the village youngsters. The fifth of November is jovially celebrated with a bonfire, which may be viewed throughout a circuit of many miles. Christmas is kept merrily, but the ancient usages of the season have passed away, except the singing by the church-choir, of whose carols Mr. Cole produces three, “which may serve,” he says, “as an addition to Mr. Gilbert’s collection.”

In this “history” there is an engraving of two “figures on bricks, near the pulpit:” the other engravings are from a former work by Mr. Cole, entitled “Herveiana,” (2 vols. foolscap 8vo. 1822,) wherein is collected a large number of particulars concerning Hervey from various sources. The latter work enumerates from Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,” the plants of the parish, and agreeably describes the common but beautiful plant, called Cuckoo-pint, or Wake Robin, which abounds under the hedge-rows. It is spoken of by its scientific name: “Arum—a wild herb, which unfolds but one leaf, formed after a very singular pattern, bearing some resemblance to the hare’s ear. It is really one of the prettiest fancies in Nature’s wardrobe, and is so much admired by the country-people, that they have dignified it with the appellation of lords and ladies; because it looks, I suppose, somewhat like a person of quality, sitting with an air of ease and dignity in his open sedan. In autumn, after both flowers have vanished, a spike of scarlet berries, on a simple stalk, is all that remains.”

On the first publication of Hervey’s “Meditations and Contemplations,” and for several years afterwards, they were highly popular, and are still greatly admired by young persons, and others who are delighted by a florid interjectional manner of writing. Hervey’s work occurs in Mr. Bohn’s “Catalogue of the Library of the late reverend and learned Samuel Parr, LL.D.” with the following remarkable note attached to the volume—“This book was the delight of Dr. Parr, when he was a boy; and, for some time, was the model on which he endeavoured to form a style.”

*

ARUM—CUCKOO-PINT—STARCH-WORT.

Old John Gerard, who was some time gardener to Cecil lord Burleigh, in the reign of queen Elizabeth, says, in his “Herbal,” that “beares, after they have lien in their dens forty dayes without any manner of sustenance, but what they get with licking and sucking their owne feet, do, as soon as they come forth, eate the herbe Cuckoo-pint, through the windie nature whereof the hungry gut is opened, and made fit againe to receive sustenance.”

Gerard further tells, that “the most pure and white starch is made of the roots of Cuckow-pint; but is most hurtful to the hands of the laundresse that hath the handling of it, for it choppeth, blistereth, and maketh the hands rough and rugged, and withall smarting.” From this ancient domestic use of the arum, it was called “Starch-wort:” it bore other and homelier names, some of them displeasing to a modern ear.

Gerard likewise relates of the arum, medically, that after being sodden in two or three waters, whereby it may lose its acrimony, and fresh put to, being so eaten, it will cut thick and tough humours in the chest and lungs; “but, then, that Cuckow-pint is best that biteth most—but Dragon’s is better for the same purpose.”

I know not whether I have fallen in with the sort of arum “that biteth most,” but, a summer or two ago, walking early in the afternoon through the green lanes to Willsden, and so to Harrow on the Hill, its scarlet granulations among the way-side browse and herbage, occasioned me to recollect the former importance of its root to the housewife, and from curiosity I dug up one to taste. The piece I bit off was scarcely the size of half a split pea, yet it gave out so much acrid milk, that, for more than an hour, my lips and tongue were inflamed and continued to burn, as if cauterized by hot iron; nor did the sensation wholly cease till after breakfast the next morning. Gerard says that, according to Dioscorides, “the root hath a peculiar virtue against the gout,” by way of cataplasm, blister-wise.

Hervey introduces the flower of the Cuckoo-pint as one of the beautiful products of the spring. “The hawthorn in every hedge is partly turgid with silken gems, partly diffused into a milk-white bloom. Not a straggling furze, nor a solitary thicket on the heath, but wears a rural nosegay. Even amidst that neglected dike the arum rises in humble state: most curiously shrouded in her leafy tabernacle, and surrounded with luxuriant families, each distinguished by a peculiar livery of green.” I am almost persuaded that I have seen the fruited arum among the ornaments of gothic architecture, surmounting pinnacles of delicate shrine-work.

*

MEMORIALS OF JOHN KEATS.

To the Editor.

Sir,—The anecdote of Keats, which appeared in a late number of your Table Book,[356] recalled his image to my “mind’s eye” as vividly, through the tear of regret, as the long-buried pictures on the walls of Pompeii appear when water is thrown over them; and I turned to reperuse the written record of my feelings, at hearing him spoken of a few months since. These lines I trouble you with, thinking they may gratify the feelings of some one of his friends, and trusting their homeliness may be pardoned for the sake of the feeling which dictated them.

I should also be glad of this opportunity to express the wishes of many of his admirers for a portrait of Keats. There are two in existence; one, a spirited profile sketch by Haydon; the other, a beautiful miniature by his friend Severn; but neither have been engraved. Mr. Severn’s return to England will probably produce some memorial of his “span of life,” and a more satisfactory account of his last moments than can be gleaned from report. The opportunity that would thus be afforded of giving to the world the posthumous remains of his genius, will, it is to be hoped, not be neglected. Such a volume would be incomplete without a portrait; which, if seen by the most prejudiced of his literary opponents, would turn the laugh of contempt into a look of thoughtful regret. Hoping my rhymes will not frustrate my wishes, I remain, sir,

Your obliged correspondent,
and humble servant,
Gaston.

Sept. 13, 1827.

Extemporaneous Lines, suggested by some thoughts and recollections of John Keats, the Poet.

FUNERALS IN CUMBERLAND.

To the Editor.

Sir,—It is usual at the funeral of a person, especially of a householder, to invite persons to attend the ceremony; and in Carlisle, for instance, this is done on the day of interment by the bellman, who, in a solemn and subdued tone of voice, announces, that “all friends and neighbours of ——, deceased, are requested to take notice, that the body will be lifted at —— o’clock, to be interred at —— church.” On this occasion the relatives and persons, invited by note, repair to the dwelling of the deceased, where they usually partake of a cold collation, with wine, &c.; and at the outside of the door a table is set out, bountifully replenished with bread and cheese, ale and spirits, when “all friends and neighbours” partake as they think proper. When the preparations for moving are completed, the procession is accompanied by those persons who are disposed to pay their last mark of respect to the memory of the deceased. This custom, it has been remarked, gives an opportunity for “that indulgence which ought to belong to the marriage feast, and that it is a practice savouring of the gothic and barbarous manners of our unpolished ancestors.” With deference to the writer’s opinion, I would say that the custom is worthy of imitation, and that the assembling together of persons who have only this opportunity of expressing their respect for the memory of the deceased, cannot fail to engage the mind to useful reflections, and is a great contrast to the heartless mode of conducting interments in many other places, where the attendants frequently do not exceed half a dozen.

The procession used often to be preceded by the parish clerk and singers, who sang a portion of the Psalms until they arrived at the church. This part of the ceremony is now, I understand, seldom performed.

I am,

Newcastle upon Tyne,

Yours, &c.

August, 1827.

W. C.

BIDDEN WEDDINGS
In Cumberland.

Sir,—It was a prevalent custom to have “bidden weddings” when a couple of respectability and of slender means were on the eve of marriage; in this case they gave publicity to their intentions through the medium of the “Cumberland Pacquet,” a paper published at Whitehaven, and which about twenty-nine years ago was the only newspaper printed in the county. The editor, Mr. John Ware, used to set off the invitation in a novel and amusing manner, which never failed to ensure a large meeting, and frequently the contributions made on the occasion, by the visitors, were of so much importance to the new married couple, that by care and industry they were enabled to make so good “a fend as niver to look ahint them.”[357]

A long absence from the county precludes me from stating whether this “good old custom” continues to be practised: perhaps some of your readers will favour you with additional information on this subject, and if they would also describe any other customs peculiar to this county, it would to me, at least, be acceptable.

The following is a copy of an advertisement, as it appeared in the Cumberland Pacquet in a number for June, 1803:—

A PUBLIC BRIDAL.

JONATHAN and GRACE MUSGRAVE purpose having a PUBLIC BRIDAL, at Low Lorton Bridge End, near Cockermouth, on THURSDAY, the 16th of June, 1803; when they will be glad to see their Friends, and all who may please to favour them with their Company;—for whose Amusement there will be various RACES, for Prizes of different Kinds; and amongst others, a Saddle, and Bridle; and a Silver-tipt Hunting Horn, for Hounds to run for.—There will also be Leaping, Wrestling, &c. &c.

☞ Commodious ROOMS are likewise engaged for DANCING PARTIES, in the Evening.

With this, the conclusion of the “bridal bidding,” I conclude, Sir,

Your constant reader,
W. C.

Newcastle upon Tyne,
August, 1827.

Discoveries
OF THE
ANCIENTS AND MODERNS.
No. VIII.

The Milky Way.

That lucid whitish zone in the firmament among the fixed stars, which we call the “Milky Way,” was supposed by the Pythagoreans to have once been the sun’s path, wherein he had left that trace of white, which we now observe there. The Peripatetics asserted, after Aristotle, that it was formed of exhalations, suspended high in air. These were gross mistakes; but all the ancients were not mistaken. Democritus, without the aid of a telescope, preceded Galileo in remarking, that “what we call the milky way, contained in it an innumerable quantity of fixed stars, the mixture of whose distant rays occasioned the whiteness which we thus denominate;” or, to express it in Plutarch’s words, it was “the united brightness of an immense number of stars.”

The Fixed Stars—Plurality of Worlds.

The conceptions of the ancients respecting the fixed stars were not less clear than ours. Indeed, the opinions of the moderns on this subject have been adopted within a century from those great masters, after having been rejected during many ages. It would be reckoned almost an absurdity at present, to doubt of those stars being suns like ours, each respectively having planets of their own, revolving around them, and forming various solar systems, more or less resembling ours. Philosophy, at present, admits this theory, derived from the ancients, and founded on the most solid reasonings of astronomical science. The elegant work of Fontenelle, on the “Plurality of Worlds,” first rendered the conception familiar to common minds.

This notion of a plurality of worlds was generally inculcated by the Greek philosophers. Plutarch, after giving an account of it, says, that “he was so far from finding fault with it, that he thought it highly probable there had been, and were, like this of ours, an innumerable, though not absolutely infinite, multitude of worlds; wherein, as well as here, were land and water, invested by sky.”

Anaximenes was one of the first who taught, that “the stars were immense masses of fire, around which certain terrestrial globes, imperceptible to us, accomplished their periodic revolutions.” By these terrestrial globes, turning round those masses of fire, he evidently meant planets, such as ours, subordinate to their own sun, and forming a solar system.

Anaximenes agreed with Thales in this opinion, which passed from the Ionic to the Italic sect; who held, that every star was a world, containing in itself a sun and planets, all fixed in that immense space, which they called ether.

Heraclides, and all the Pythagoreans likewise taught, that “every star was a world, or solary system, having, like this of ours, its sun and planets, invested with an atmosphere of air, and moving in the fluid ether, by which they were sustained.” This opinion seems to have been of still more ancient origin. There are traces of it in the verses of Orpheus, who lived in the time of the Trojan war, and taught that there was a plurality of worlds; a doctrine which Epicurus also deemed very probable.

Origen treats amply of the opinion of Democritus, saying, that “he taught, that there was an innumerable multitude of worlds, of unequal size, and differing in the number of their planets; that some of them were as large as ours, and placed at unequal distances; that some were inhabited by animals, which he could not take upon him to describe; and that some had neither animals, nor plants, nor any thing like what appeared among us.” The philosophic genius of the illustrious ancient discerned, that the different nature of those spheres necessarily required inhabitants of different kinds.

This opinion of Democritus surprised Alexander into a sudden declaration of his unbounded ambition. Ælian reports, that this young prince, upon hearing Democritus’s doctrine of a plurality of worlds, burst into tears, upon reflecting that he had not yet so much as conquered one of them.

It appears, that Aristotle also held this opinion, as did likewise Alcinoüs, the Platonist. It is also ascribed to Plotinus; who held besides, that the earth, compared to the rest of the universe, was one of the meanest globes in it.

Satellites.—Vortices.

In consequence of the ancient doctrine of the plurality of worlds, Phavorinus remarkably conjectured the possibility of the existence of other planets, besides those known to us. “He was astonished how it came to be admitted as certain, that there were no other wandering stars, or planets, but those observed by the Chaldeans. As for his part, he thought that their number was more considerable than was vulgarly given out, though they had hitherto escaped our notice.” Here he probably alludes to the satellites, which have since been manifested by means of the telescope; but it required singular penetration to be capable of forming the supposition, and of having, as it were, predicted this discovery. Seneca mentions a similar notion of Democritus; who supposed, that there were many more of them, than had yet come within our view.

However unfounded may be the system of vortices promulgated by Descartes, yet, as there is much of genius and fancy in it, the notion obtained great applause, and ranks among those theories which do honour to the moderns, or rather to the ancients, from whom it seems to have been drawn, notwithstanding its apparent novelty. In fact, Leucippus taught, and after him Democritus, that “the celestial bodies derived their formation and motion from an infinite number of atoms, of every sort of figure; which encountering one another, and clinging together, threw themselves into vortices; which being thoroughly agitated and circumvolved on all sides, the most subtile of those particles that went to the composition of the whole mass, made towards the utmost skirts of the circumferences of those vortices; whilst the less subtile, or those of a coarser element, subsided towards the centre, forming themselves into those spherical concretions, which compose the planets, the earth, and the sun.” They said, that “those vortices were actuated by the rapidity of a fluid matter, having the earth at the centre of it; and that the planets were moved, each of them, with more or less violence, in proportion to their respective distance from that centre.” They affirmed also, that the celerity with which those vortices moved, was occasionally the cause of their carrying off one another; the most powerful and rapid attracting, and drawing into itself, whatever was less so, whether planet or whatever else.

Leucippus seems also to have known that grand principle of Descartes, that “all revolving bodies endeavour to withdraw from their centre, and fly off in a tangent.”

RELIQUIÆ THOMSONIANA.

To the Editor.

Sir,—The article relating to Thomson, in a recent number of the Table Book, cannot fail to have deeply interested many of your readers, and in the hope that further similar communications may be elicited, I beg to offer the little I can contribute.

The biographical memoranda, the subject of the conversation in the article referred to, are said to have been transmitted to the earl of Buchan by Mr. Park. It is not singular that no part of it appears in his lordship’s “Essays on the Lives and Writings of Fletcher of Saltoun, and the Poet Thomson, 1792.” 8vo. Mr. Park’s communication was clearly too late for the noble author’s purpose. The conversation professes to have been in October, 1791; to my own knowledge the volume was finished and ready for publication late in the preceding September, although the date 1792 is affixed to the title.

Thomson, it is believed, first tuned his Doric reed in the porter’s lodge at Dryburgh, more recently the residence of David Stuart Erskine, earl of Buchan; hence the partiality which his lordship evinced for the memory of the poet. At p. 194 of the Essays are verses to Dr. De (la) Cour, in Ireland, on his Prospect of Poetry, which are there ascribed to Thomson, and admitted as such by Dr. Thomson, who directed the volume through the press; although it is certain that Thomson in his lifetime disavowed them. The verses to Dr. De la Cour appeared in the Daily Journal for November 1734; and Cave, the proprietor and editor of the Gentleman’s Magazine, at the end of the poetical department in that miscellany for August, 1736, states himself “assured, from Mr. Thomson, that, though the verses to Dr. De la Cour have some lines from his Seasons, he knew nothing of the piece till he saw it in the Daily Journal.”

The appellation of the “oily man of God,” in the Essays, p. 258, was intended by the earl of Buchan for Dr. Murdoch, who was subsequently a biographer of Thomson. Such designations would puzzle a conjuror to elucidate, did not contemporary persons exist to afford a clue to them.

The recent number of the Table Book is not at hand, but from some MS. papers now before me,—James Robertson, surgeon to the household at Kew, who married the sister of Amanda, was the bosom friend of Thomson for more than twenty years. His conversation is said to have been facetious and intelligent, and his character exemplarily respectable. He died at his residence on Richmond Green after four days’ illness, 28th October, 1791, in his eighty-fourth year.

The original MS. of the verses to Miss Young, the poet’s Amanda, on presenting her with his “Seasons,” printed in the Essays, p. 280, were communicated by a Mr. Ramsay, of Ocherlyne, to his lordship. Some other presentation lines, with the Seasons, to the poet Lyttleton, were transcribed from a blank leaf of the book at Hagley, by Johnstone, bishop of Worcester, and transmitted by his son to the earl of Buchan in 1793 or 1794, consequently too late for publication. They follow here:—