after the migration of his family to Lymington, in Hampshire, about the year 1776. Here he knew Mr. Dunkerley, a relation of George II., and author of the famous song, "Come ye lads who wish to shine;" and a Miss Nancy Bere, whose short, but romantic story we shall quote from these volumes. This young lady was, at an early age, adopted by Mr. Hackman and his lady, under the following circumstances :—

'Her (Mrs. H.'s) garden, in which alone she found particular pleasure, stood in need, as is usual in the spring season, of an active weeder; and John the footman was despatched to the poor-house, to select a little pauper girl, qualified for the performance of this necessary labour. He executed his commission in a trice; brought back a diminutive female of eight or nine years of age; pointed out the humble task in which she was to employ herself, and left her to her work. The child, alone amid the flowers, began to "warble her native wood-notes wild," in tones of more than common sweetness. Mrs. Hackman's chamber-window had been thrown up: she heard the little weeder's solitary song; was struck with the rich melody of her voice, and enquired from whom it proceeded?" Nancy Bere, from the poor-house," was the answer. By Mrs. Hackman's order, the songstress was immediately brought to the lady's apartment; who became so pleased, at this first interview, with her naiveté, intelligence, and apparently amiable disposition, that she determined to remove the warbling Nancy from the workhouse, and attach her to her own kitchen establishment. The little maiden, however, was too good and attractive, to be permitted to remain long in the subordinate condition of scullion's deputy. Mrs. Hackman soon preferred her to the office of lady's maid; and, to qualify her the better for this attendance on her person, had her carefully instructed in all the elementary branches of education. The intimate intercourse that now subsisted between the patroness and her protégé, quickly ripened into the warmest affection on the one part, and the most grateful attachment on the other. Nancy Bere was attractively lovely; and still more irrestible, from an uncommon sweetness of temper, gentleness of disposition, and feminine softness of character; and Mrs. Hackman, whose regard for her daily increased, proposed, at length, to her complying husband, that they should adopt the pauper orphan as their own daughter. From the moment of the execution of this plan, every possible attention was paid to the education of Miss Bere; and, I presume, with the best success; as I have always understood, that she became a highly-accomplished young lady. Her humility and modesty, however, never forsook her; and her exaltation in Mr. Hackman's family, seemed only to strengthen her gratitude to her partial and generous benefactress.

It could not be thought, that such "a flower" as the adopted beauty, "Was born to blush unseen,

And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

or that, however retired her life might be, Miss Bere would remain long the beloved protégé of Mr. and Mrs. Hackman, without being remarked, admired, and solicited to change her name. Very shortly, indeed, after her assuming this character, such an event occurred; though without, at that time, producing any propitious result. A clergyman of respectable appearance, had taken lodgings in Lymington, for the purposes of autumnal

bathing, and amusing himself with a little partridge-shooting. The hospitable Mr. Hackman, ever attracted towards a brother-sportsman, by a sort of magnetic influence, called upon the stranger; shot with him; and invited him to his house. The invitations were repeated, and accepted, as often as the shooting-days recurred; nor had many taken place, ere their natural effect on a young, unmarried clerk, was produced. He became deeply enamoured of Miss Bere, and offered her his hand. She, for aught I know, might have been "nothing loth" to change the condition of a recluse, for the more active character of a clergyman's wife; but, as the gentleman had no possession save his living, and as Mr. Hackman could not, out of a life-estate, supply Miss Bere with a fortune, it was judged prudent, under these pecuniary disabilities, that she should decline the honour of the alliance. A year elapsed without the parties having met, and it was generally imagined, that Lethe had kindly administered an ob livious potion to both; and with the aid of absence, had obliterated from their minds, the remembrance of each other. But such was not the case. At the ensuing partridge-season, the gentleman returned to Lymington; and, with the title of " very reverend" prefixed to his name (for he had obtained a deanery in the interval) once more repeated his solicitations and his offers. These (as there was now no obstacle to the marriage) were accepted. The amiable pair were united; and lived, for many years, sincerely attached to each other; respected, esteemed, and beloved, by all around them. The death of the husband dissolved, at length, the happy connection. His lady survived her loss for some time; and, a few years ago, the little warbling pauper, Nancy Bere, of Lymington workhouse, quitted this temporal being, the universally lamented widow of the Rt. Rev. Thomas Thurloe, PALATINE BISHOP of DURHAM.'-vol. i. pp. 48-51.

Though Romance seemed to have marked Lymington for her own, our author found no difficulty in departing from that place for a seminary at Christchurch, where the people spoke more like Danes than subjects of George the Third, and where the corporate folks used to toast, year after year, in utter contempt of all dictionaries, domestic and foreign," Prosperation to this Corporation"!! All this barbarism Mr. Warner attributes to the smugglers whom Christchurch had, time out of mind, served as an inviolable den, and who divided the jurisdiction of the borough and the country round with the worshipful civic body. Our hero had some terrible adventures with the smugglers-but having contracted a taste for antiquarian lore, there was not the slightest fear that his young imagination would have been captivated by the adventurous life which an association with the outlaws would have afforded. He began to scale old walls, by the help of the ivy stems that encompassed them and he dug huge burrows with great industry, and was conversant with the bowels of the land all about him. One day he had engaged some company to witness the disinterment of a Roman Thorax. He struck his spade against a metallic sub. stance, and unbounded was his joy.

Almost breathless with joy and expectation, I hastily uncovered the treasure, and perceived an iron plate, about ten inches long, gently curved,

J

σε Ευρηκα

covered with precious rust, and perforated with small holes from top to bottom. A moment's inspection fully convinced me what it was. -Evρnka," I exclaimed, with the rapture of the old mathematician; "I have found the prize-By Heaven! here's a Roman Thorax," and triumphantly presented the iron plate to my clerical friends. They surveyed it with grave attention; and perfectly coincided in the opinion I had delivered, as to the nature and use of the article which I had turned up; suggesting at the same time, that by pursuing my researches, I should discover more remains of the chieftain's military garb. "Unquestionably," I replied;" dig to the right there, and you'll get the helmet; and it's by no means improbable that we may meet with fragments of the Paludementum; if, indeed, time have not entirely consumed it." This extravagrance, however, was too great a tax upon the gravity of my hitherto demure companions. They simultaneously burst into a convulsive roar of laughter; and as soon as they could recover breath sufficient for speech, informed the astonished antiquary, that the Roman Thorax was neither more nor less than one side of an old stable lantern, which they had picked up on the heath; cast into the barrow; and covered over with earth; whilst I had been engaged with the labourer at the adjoining tumulus.'—vol. i. pp. 87-89.

Mr. Warner had the happiness to be acquainted with Mr. Gustavus Brander, at Christchurch, one of the generous benefactors to the British Museum. He met at this gentleman's table Captain Grose, the antiquary, whom he represents as an amiable man, but very somnolescent after meals, and a singular species of the Munchausen genius of voyagers, denominated General Perkins. One of the stories which the latter used to tell is given by Mr. Warner.

'Perkins, it seems, when a lieutenant of marines, happened to be cruising in a line-of-battle ship, off the island of Cuba. Himself, and several of the midshipmen, applied one morning to the captain for permission to spend the day on shore. Leave being obtained, the yawl was manned in a trice, and the party conveyed to land. Quitting the beach, they ascended the dark-sided, precipitous cliff that frowned over the waves; and in a short time had selected an agreeable spot for the deliberate despatch of their biscuits and grog. The ocean, and their gallant ship riding on its surges, lay before them. A long extent of gently-rising ground, naked of bush, brake, or tree, spread itself on the opposite quarter. The day passed in all that careless mirth, with which sailors generally contrive to load the wings of time, when fairly out of their ship; and the jolly group were now preparing for their departure. At this moment, a horrible bellowing was heard at their back-front, and, turning round, they beheld an immense herd of wild buffaloes, rushing towards them with the most furious rapidity down the slope. "Dreadful situation !" would some auditor exclaim, who had the happy faculty of keeping his countenance. "Dreadful indeed, Sir," the Colonel would respond, "for there was no apparent possibility of escape. But, Sir, my presence of mind is not apt to fail me. instant I saw the only hole at which we could creep out. Up and away, my lads," I exclaimed, " for your lives! Run like lapwings to the edge of the precipice, and throw yourselves smack upon your faces. We'll show these bellowing rascals a trick worth two of their own." In a crack, Sir, we were all as flat as flounders, with our heads over the cliff. A moment's

In an

80

delay, and we should have been spitted on the horns of the wild buffaloes ; for they were already hard at our sterns: but, quite blind with fury, they did not perceive the trap that I had laid for them; and being at full speed, they could not stop themselves when they reached the edge of the cliff, every mother's son of them went pell-mell, helter-skelter into the breakers below. "What, Sir," might the quizzer say, "did not one of them remain to tell the tale ?"-" No, Sir," would the colonel reply (crowning his story with a pun,)" by Jupiter! not a tail was left behind.'”—vol. i. pp. 105-107.

We doubt, however, if Perkins' extravagance was half so productive of good humour as the nature of Mr. Talman, the Vicar, who joined to an immoderate appetite, a portliness of person that fully justified his extensive powers of consumption. The mirth of the company always approached its climax when the Vicar was fortunately placed within the sphere of a haunch of venison, than which no earthly good was more precious in his eyes, as he would, at such times,' observes Mr. Warner,

'As he would, at such times, gently intimate to his neighbours, right and left, that if their respective portions of fat were larger than agreeable, he should be most happy to receive them on his own plate; a favour, for the joke's sake, frequently conferred upon him. Among the many peculiarities of this thoroughly good-natured and universally esteemed incumbent, one may be specified, which, though exceedingly annoying to himself, was somewhat calculated to excite a smile in others; and that, too, on occasions when perfect gravity would have been more decorous and appropriate :—this was the inexpressible horror which he entertained at every species of contagious disease; and the alarm that he manifested at any object connected with infection. I have frequently, in company with other boys, attended the interment of those who had fallen victims to fever, small-pox, measles, or similar disorders; attracted, I am sorry to confess, not so much by the sublime and beautiful service used on such occasions, as by a curiosity to observe the wary arrangements made by the cautious vicar, for averting every possible danger of the disorder being communicated to himself. Whenever burials of this nature occurred, it was Mr. Talman's wont, to fortify himself for the dreaded service, both internally and externally, by swallowing a camphor julep, before he went into the churchyard; and proceeding thither with a lump of the same odoriferous drug in his bosom. He would then enjoin the sexton to place the sentry box, from which the service was read, at the distance of at least one hundred yards to the windward of the grave; and, with these precautions, would go through the formulary, in such a tone of thunder, as might not only be heard distinctly by the attendants at the funeral, but would surprise even those who were walking in the street beyond the churchyard. The power of Mr. Talman's lungs, was, indeed, in my experience, without a parallel. Not that the tone thereof was deep and full, like the serpent, sackbut, or double-bass: but sharp, dissonant, and clanging, as the blast of the trumpet when it rouses to battle.'-vol. i. pp. 111, 112.

Another oddity was the Rev. Mr. Richman, who owed some of his singularities to accidents in early life. Of him the author

says

Though by no means deficient in manly spirit, he laboured under those lighter fears and apprehensions, which would have thrown a cast of the ludicrous over a character less respectable than his own. He never, for instance, put his watch, on a morning, into his fob, without first airing it; nor read a new book unless it had been previously exposed for two or three days to the drying influence of the fire. So great also was his terror at mounting an elevation, and his alarm when accidentally placed on one, that I have known him refuse to ascend a bank of six feet high, at the side of the road, to view a prospect; or, if he had been prevailed upon to overcome his alarm for the gratification of his curiosity, to tremble like an aspen leaf, while he stood on its summit, and to require the assistance of a friendly arm, to place him again on the level ground.' -vol. i. pp. 138, 139.

During his scholastic ordeal at Christchurch, poor Mr. Warner was seized with the ambition to be a poet-and a very seasonable tempest offering at the juncture, the young aspirant accepted it as a subject. He wrought, at the sacrifice of a whole night's repose, some twenty lines, which he engrossed on a large sheet of paper, and published as well as he could, by holding up the interesting manuscript to the whole school. It caught the master's eye-it was read aloud by one of them, when, as he had delivered the second line, a shout of laughter from all quarters broke forth, dissipating in a moment the spell which had bound our hero's heart. As a magnificent example of the bathos, the two lines cannot be exceeded.

. ON A MIDNIGHT STORM.

'Now the slow thunder, awful, rolls along,
And sings divine the bass of heavenly song.'

This is the music of the spheres with a vengeance-and we do not think that a more happy accompaniment could be selected for the "bass of heavenly song," than a loud treble movement in the most laughable possible key.

Amongst the other hospitable neighbours at whose boards the author had often joined in the feast of reason and the flow of soul, was Sir John D'Oyley, the fast and tried friend of the famous Warren Hastings. Sir John occupied a place in the same box with the ex-governor of India, during the whole of the memorable trial in Westminster Hall. Our author went one day to witness this celebrated scene, and the following is his account of the impression which it left on his mind.

With the exception of the "commemorations of Handel," in Westminster Abbey (at two of which I was present), Mr. Hastings' trial, on the day I obtained admission to it, exhibited a spectacle, gorgeous and striking, beyond any I have ever contemplated-the most august apartment in Europe; crowded with the larger proportion of the members of both houses of parliament; and an immense number of the first nobility, and most leading gentry in the kingdom; all, either in court dresses, or fashionable attire: the band of accusers, men of the brightest talents, and