take the very first opportunity of falling in love. This will greatly assist in perfecting the good work. The only remaining character necessary to be mentioned is Rebecca, which was represented by Miss Foote; and a splendid appearance it was. In characters which admit of a fanciful costume the modern stage has seen nothing equal to this lady. She looks like one and all of the female beauties in Westall's illustrations of modern poetry. There is the same perfect loveliness, with the same self-possessed and theatrical air about it. Miss Foote seems to think that she was made to be the idol of all eyes; and she would be so if she did not appear to think that she deserves it. She played Rebecca, as she plays every thing else, gracefully; but without any mixture of force or passion. We are not sorry for this. We would on no account see her perfect form disturbed in its movements beyond the limits of pure grace. There is a swanlike beauty about it; and the swan is seen to perfection only on smooth water. ODE TO MRS FLANAGAN. By an Irish Gentleman, lately deceased. SIB, A friend of mine died last month in Tralee, sit illi terra levis. He left behind him a large quantity of MSS. His wife, a woman of singular judgment, appointed me to prepare them for the press; and before I finally commit them entire to the public, I think it right to give a specimen of the poetical part. Your Magazine has been pointed out to me as the vehicle. The public in this incredulous age might not wish to purchase a couple of folios without some sample of their contents. I give, therefore, the first that comes to hand. It happens to be a poem, written about 1817, to a Mr Flanagan of Youghall. Various passages in it requiring elucidation, I submitted it to the people who could give me most information on its topics. I have to thank Mr Roderick Mulshenan, Eugene Falvey mariner, Lieutenant Duperier, Mr Leigh Hunt, &c. The last gentleman took a very kind interest in the concern, as will appear by the notes furnished by himself and his friends; and I hereby return him my most grateful thanks. Every gentleman who assisted me in my commentary is duly mentioned, after the laudable custom of those viri clarissimi, the variorum editors. I shall send you some more of these papers in prose and verse, with a life of the author, at some future opportunity. I remain, sir, your most obedient, and very humble servant, PHILIP FORAger. Drumanigillibeg, Feb. 29, 1820. P. S.-I understand, that it is conceived by some of the critics who have perused this piece, that the hint is taken from Horace. Perhaps so-I accordingly subjoin the ode. I have some notes and annotations on the Latin text, which I at first intended to send to you, but, on mature reflection, I have transmitted them to Mr Kidd, who has promised to publish them in his Curæ posteriores in Horatii Carmina. *The Jolly Jupiter was in the Delaware in 1817 with a cargo of crokery. We sailed from that to Norfolk, in Virginia, where we took on board a cargo of tobacco, which we smuggled into the ports on the west coast of Ireland. We were but nine hands on board. Peter Bulger, who was shot last Christmas in the Shannon, in a run from a revenue cruiser, was our captain; and Jerry-Flanagan, an Ardmore man born, was mate. He Gygen? ille, Notis actus ad Oricum Insomnis, lacrimis, agit. Atqui sollicitæ nuncius hospitæ, Tentat mille vafer modis. Ut Prætum mulier perfida credulum Maturare necem, refert. Narrat penè datum Pelea Tartaro, Fallax historias monet : He's driven in to some port to the west of us, (A thing that might happen, dear, to the best of us,) Where he is sighing, sobbing, and chattering, Night and day long of his own dear Catherine; Although his landlady, one Mrs Gallagher,+ Wants him to quit you, the rogue, and to follow her. She tells him the tale of the wife of old Po- Relating a fact that will ne'er be forgot of her.) dultery: And from this basest, this vilest of women, he and Mrs Flanagan, a comely two-handed woman, have gone off to the Cape of Good Hope to settle among the Caffres and other such outlandish people. The Jolly Jupiter is about 280 tons burthen, a smart sailing brig, built by Hurly of Kinsale. This is all I know his about the matter.-EUGENE + FALVEY. mark. I may add, that the Jolly Jupiter is now for sale in Liverpool, as I perceive by Gore's General Advertiser. It may also be worth mentioning, that Mrs Flanagan was married in 1812 to Jerry, a good-looking stout fellow, about thirty. She is the daughter of Mullovny, a vintner in Youghall, and has had six children since marriage. It is right to be minute on interesting particulars.-PHILip Forager. Dingle-i-couch, a celebrated harbour in the kingdom of Kerry, where, I am informed by my friend and correspondent, Mr Roderic Mulshenan, a name I mention with deserved respect, the brig Jolly Jupiter did actually put in, in March 1817; but through an unfor tunate mislaying of his papers relating to this event, I cannot tell the precise day. Mr R. M. is preparing a history of Dingle, in which, among many other equally interesting particulars, we shall, no doubt, have this point decided. He has already half a ton of MSS. for this great work.-P. F. + Mrs Gallagher (pronounced more Hibernico, Gollagher) keeps the sign of the cat-andbagpipes in Dingle, a woman irreproachable in her conduct, amatory in her disposition, fair in her dealings, and a good hand in running spirits. Touching the colour of her hair, it is red, and she was a widow (at the time of this poem,) of her third husband for nearly three months-she has been since married. Miss Skinandbone, a maiden lady in Dingle, tells me that her treatment of Flanagan was kind, and that he was no Josephbut this may not be authenticated.-P. F. She appears to be a woman of taste and reading, by having my poem in her house-LEIGH HUNT. It was left at her house by a Cockney barber, who was running away from his creditors, and taking ship on board the Yankiedoodle in Dingle; he left it with Mrs G. as pledge for a tumbler of punch.-RoDERICK MULSHENAN. Perhaps he found it too heavy to carry it any farther.-Z. This allusion to Scripture, I think profane and reprehensible, LEIGH HUNT. So do I, BYRON. So do I, WM HONE. So do I, BEDFORD. So do I, SUSSEX. So do I, T. MOORE. So also many more Whig wits, men conspicuous for respect for the Scriptures. Nobody understands profaneness better than they.-P. F. § The clear shown bay of Dingle rises, on my soul, with springy freshness from this circumstance. Mrs Gallagher made the use I intended of my poem: a rational piety and a manly patriotism should prompt a writer to excite those passions which nature has given us, and which tend to increase the population of the country. By smutty, is meant that I resemble Rembrandt in being dark, gloomy, and grand; it is a dear coming-round metaphorical expression, quite feet-on-the-fenderish, and reminds one of a poker in the fire, and a chimney corner. LEIGH HUNT. Deaf as a battery, is not the proper phrase: it must have been put in rythmi gratia. I suggest the following: "But he's as deaf-as deaf as the postesses Postesses, in the Cockney tongue, signifies Posts.-P. F. But there's a sergeant, one Patrick Hen nessy, Keep away, Kitty, from all such men as he, Though he's so smart, that he's always cmployed, as Rough-rider to the old Marquis of Droghe da's, + Though there are few so brawny and big, my dear, Or far better at dancing a jig, my dear, Close down your windows when he comes capering, Shut both your doors and your ears to his Mind not the songs or sighs of this Hannibal, There is no such serjeant or rough-rider in the 18th hussars, H. DUPERIER, Lieutenant and Adjutant. There must then be some mistake in the business, which I cannot account for.-P. F. + The most noble Charles, Marquis of Drogheda, K. S. P. is Colonel of the 18th hus sars. H. D. Lieutenant and Adjutant. I He is somewhat elderly, being born in 1730; he is now the eldest General in the army, and the only officer in the service who has received the commission he holds from George II., having raised the 18th in 1759. Long may he keep his rank.-P. F. HACTENUS HÆC SED RESTAT ADHUC PARS ULTIMA CURÆ. LETTER FROM THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. DEAR CHRISTOPHER, Eltrive, March 3, 1820. I ENCLOSE you a very curious letter from a cousin-german of my own to his son, who still remains in this country. It has given me so much amusement that I thought it might be acceptable to you for publication in the Magazine, If you think proper to give it a corner, do not alter the orthography, or the writer's singular mode of grammar, in any other way than by pointing it. What he says with regard to the riches and freedom of America must be taken with reserve, it being well known here that he is dissatisfied, but that he wants the son, to whom he is writing, and others of his family, to join him, This indeed is apparent from the tenor of the letter. The writer was a highly respected shepherd of this country, and as successful as most men in the same degree of life; but for a number of years bygone he talked and read about America till he grew perfectly unhappy; and, at last, when approaching his sixtieth year, actually set off to seek a temporary home and a grave in the new world; but some of his sons had formed attachments at home, and refused to accompany him. He was always a singular and highly amusing character, cherishing every antiquated and exploded idea in science, religion, and politics. He never was at any school, and what scraps of education he had attained had all been picked up by himself. Nothing excited his indignation more than the theory of the earth wheeling round on its axis, and journeying round the sun; he had many strong logical arguments against it, and nailed them all with Scripture. When he first began to hear tell of North America, about twenty years ago, he would not believe me that Fife was not it; and that he saw it from the Castle Hill of Edinburgh. I remember, and always will, a night that I had with him about seventeen years ago. He and one Walter Bryden, better known by the appellation of Cow Wat, Thomas Hogg, the celebrated flying Ettrick tailor, and myself, were all drinking in a little changehouse one evening. After the whisky had fairly begun to operate, Laidlaw and Cow Wat went to loggerheads about Hell, about which their tenets of belief totally differed. The dispute was carried on with such acrimony on both sides, that Wat had several times heaved his great cudgel, and threatened to knock his opponent down. Laidlaw, perceiving that the tailor and I were convulsed with laughter, joined us for some time with all his heart; but all at once he began to look grave, and the tear stood in his eye. Aye, ye may laugh!" said he, "great gomerals! It's weel kend that ye're just twae that laugh at every thing that's good. Ye hae mair need to pray for the poor auld heretick than laugh at him, # when ye see that he's on the braid way that leads to destruction. I'm really sorry for the poor auld scoundrel after a', and troth I think we sude join an' pray for him. For my part I sal lend my mite." With that he laid off his old slouched hat, and kneeled down on the floor, leaning forward on a chair, where he prayed a long prayer for Cow Wat, as he familiarly called him, when representing his forlorn case to his Maker. I do not know what I would give now to have a copy of that prayer, for I never heard any thing like it. It was so cutting, that before the end Wat rose up foaming with rage, heaved his stick, and cried, "I tell ye, gie ower, Jamie Laidlaw, I winna be prayed for in that gate." If there were different places and degrees of punishment, he said, as the auld hoary reprobate maintained-that was to say, three or four hells, then he prayed that poor Cow Wat might be preferred to the easiest ane." We coudna expect nae better a place," he said, "for sic a man, and indeed we would be ashamed to ask it. But, on the ither hand," continued he, "if it be true, that the object of our petition cheated James Cunningham an' Sandy o' Bowerhope, out o' from two to three hunder pounds o' lamb-siller, why, we can hardly ask síc a situation for him; an' if it be farther true, that he left his ain wife, Nanny Stothart, and took up wi' another, (whom he named name and sur name), really we have hardly the face to ask any mitigation for him at at” The tailor and I, and another one, I have forgot who it was, but I think it was probably Adie o' Aberlosk, were obliged to hold Wat by main force upon his chair till the prayer was finished. Such are some of the traits of character peculiar to the writer of the enclosed curious epistle.-Your's ever, DEAR ROBERT, York, September 9, 1819. I WRITE you this, to let you know, that we are still alive, which is a great mercy. We Came hear on the 25th of Aprile; but, as there was no Land ready misered, we were obledged to take a House for this Summer, and an acare of a Garden; we had to Stay in it untill we get the Crop of the Garden. When we are for going to our Land, we have got Each of us one 100 acers; and Andrews is a little of from us; Walter and me has 200 acers in one Lott, as we had to Draw it all by Ballot in Two Hundred acers; Andrew and George Bell, from Eskdale, is in one Lott. We are Mostly all Scotts men, and has got a Township to be all togethor, or what is Called, a parish in Scotland. They give 60,000 Acers for one Township. There is a Great meny people Settling hear. Goverment bought a Large Tract of Cuntry from the Indians Last year. This End of it was only about 12 Mills of york, and very good Land, So that people was all for on it, it Be ing So near the Capital of the provence; but we were Two Long of getting our Grant, that the Land was all taken up Near the Town, So that we will be 30 Mills from york; but the Land is good, for Walter and Andrew has been on it. Andrew has a fine streem of water runs through the middle of his Lott; but I am afraid that-Wat and me will be Scarce of JAMES HOGG. Water, unless we dig a well. We have Eighteen Mounths to do our settling deuties in, where we have to Clear five acers Each, and put up a House, and then we get our Deed for Ever to our Selvs and hirs. Robert, I will not advise you to Come hear, as I am afraid that you will not Like this place; So you may take your oun will when you did not Come along with us. I do not Expect Ever to See you hear; I am very glad to hear that you have got a place for you and your wife. May the good will of him that Dwelt in the Bush rest on you and hir; and may you be a blissing to one another. If I had thought that you ould have deserted us, I should not have comed hear; it was my ame to get you all near me made me Come to America; but mans thoughts are vanity, for I have Scattered you far wider, but I Cannot help it now. Them that I have hear is far more Contented than I am; indeed I can do very Little for the Suport of a family, for the work hear is very heavy; it is not a place for old men Lik me, altho it is a fine Cuntry, and produces plenty Robert, if this Comes to you, as I Expect it will, you may take it over to Wolf hope, and Let William See it, as I have Sent one to him with the man that brings them to Scotland. We have had our health midling well Since we Came bear, untill Six weeks ago, that Wat was taken with the ague; he had it only about Twe weeks, when he got better; then Andrew took it, and he has had it this mounth, but is now getting Better but very weak; they have wrought all this Summer with people in the Town for Six Shillings a-day, but did not get ther victules, they have made a good dale of money; but we have to pay dear for the House; but we have a good Garden that we Can Live upon, and has Sold a great dale out of it a 100 Duson of Cowcombres, and therty Bushels of potatoes. We had peas 10 foot High, and Beans 12 foot Some Hundreds after one. It has been a very warm Summer hear, and there is a fine Crop of Every kind of grain, and Hundreds of people Coming from the old Cuntry to eat of it; we get the finest of the wheat hear; Twelve Stone of it is 27 Shillings, and we are Expecting it will be at 20 in a month; we took fifteen acers of meadow Hay to mow and win from one Mr Macgill; we had three Dollars the acre, and we made it in three weeks; and he has given us as much Lea Hay for nothing as will winter our Cow, only we had it to mow and win. He is a very ricth man, and has befriended me more than all the farmers in Esther Ettrick or yearrow ould have Dun. The money here with Merchants and people of tread, is as plenty as Ever I Saw it any Town in Scotland. There is a market hear Every day for beef and mutton, and people Comes in from the Cuntry with Butter and Chease, and Eggs, and potatoes, onions, and Carrots, melons, and Skuashins, and pumpkins, with many things unknown in Scotland. The people hear Speaks very good English; there is many of our Scots words that they Cannot understand what we are saying; and they Live far more independant than King George; for if they have been any time hear, and got a few acers of there farm Cleared, they have all plenty to Live upon; and what they have to Sell, they get always money for it, for bringing it to york. There is a road goes Straight North from york into the Cuntry for fifty mills; and the farm Houses almost all Two Story High; Some of them will have as good as 12 Cows, and four or five Horces; they are Growing very ricth, for they pay no taxes, but Just a perfict trifell, and rids in ther gig, or Chire, Like Lords. We Like this place far better than the States; we have got Sermon three times Every Saboth; they are the Baptists that we hear; there is no Presbetaren minister in this Town as yet, but there is a Large English Chapel, and a Methidest Chapel; but I do not think that the Methidests is very Sound in their Doctrine; they Save all infants, and Saposes a man may be Justified to day, and fall from it to-morrow; and the English Minister reads all that he Says, unless it be his Clark Craying always at the End of Every peorid, good Lord Dliver us. If Tom Hogg ould Come Over and hear the Methidests one day, it ould Serve him Craking about it for one Year; for the minister prays as Loud as Ever he Can, and the people is all doun on there knees, all Craying, Amen; So that you Can Scarce hear what the prest is Saying; and I have Seen Some of them Jumping up as if they ould have gone to Heaven, Soul and Body-but there Body was a filthy Clog to them, for they always fell down again, altho crying, O Jesus, O Jesus, Just as he had been to pull them up through the Loft. They have there field meetings, where they preach night and day for a week, where Some thousands atends; Some will be asleep, and Some faling down under Convictions, and others Eating and Drinking! Now, Robert, if this Comes to you, write to us how you are all, and all the News that you Can think of; and if you think that William will Come hear or not, we have got as much Land as will Serve us all; but neither you nor him will Like America at the first, as Every thing is New hear, and people has Every thing to Learn. There is not many Carts hear, they all waggons with four wheels. I have Seen three yoke of oxen in one waggon, and they plow with oxen; many of there plewghs has but one Stilt, and no Colter: The wages is not So good hear as formerly on So many people Coming from Briton and Irland. Tell John Riddel that I have as much Hickery on my farm as will be fishing wands to thousands, and many of them a Hundred foot High, and they are for no Ewse to us but to Burn; but it is the best fire wood in the world. I shall Say no more, but wish, that the god of Jacob may be your god, and may he be your gide, for Ever, and Ever, is the Sincer prayer of your Loving Father, till Death, JAMES LAIDLAW. Pay your Letters to the Sea, or they will not Come to us. |
