springing up in the vessel.At length, after many perils and struggles, we got to Dublin.-There my father took a large house, furnished it, and in a year and a half's time spent a great deal of money.-- In the year one thousand seven hundred and nineteen, all unhinged again; the regiment was ordered, with many others, to the isle of Wight, in order to embark for Spain in the Vigo expedition. We accompanied the regiment, and were driven into Milford Haven, but landed at Bristol, from thence by land to Plymouth again, and to the isle of Wight-where I remember we staid incamped some time before the embarkation of the troops-(in this expedition from Bristol to Hampshire we lost poor Joram a pretty boy, four years old, of the small-pox) my mother, sister, and myself, remained at the isle of Wight during the Vigo expedition, and until the regiment had got back to Wicklow in Ireland, from whence my father sent for us. We had poor Joram's loss supplied during our stay in the isle of Wight, by the birth of a girl, Anne, borne September the twentythird, one thousand seven hundred and nineteen.—This pretty blossom fell at the age of three years, in the barracks of Dublin-she was, as I well remember, of a fine delicate frame, not made to last long, as were most of my father's babes. We embarked for Dublin, and had all been cast away by a most violent storm, be, through the intercessions of my mother, the captain was prevailed upon to turn back into Wales, where we stayed a month, and at length got into Dublin, and travelled by land to Wicklow, where my father had for some weeks given us over for lost. We lived in the barracks at Wicklow, one year, (one thousand seven hundred and twenty) when Devijeher (so called after Colonel Devijeher) was born; from thence we decamped to stay half a year with Mr. Fetherston, a clergyman, about seven miles from Wicklow, who, being a relation of my mother's, invited us to his parsonage at Animo.-It was in this parish, during our stay, that I had that wonderful escape in falling through a mill-race whilst the mill was going, and of being taken up unhurt. The story is incredible, but known for truth in all that part of Ireland-where hundreds of the common people flocked to see me.-From hence we followed the regiment to Dublin, where we lay in the barracks a year. In this year, one thousand seven hundred and twenty-one, I learned to write, &c.-The regiment, ordered in twenty-two, to Carrickfergus in the north of Ireland, we all decamped, but got no further than Drogheda, thence ordered to Mullengar, forty miles west, where by Providence we stumbled upon a kind relation, a collateral descendant from Archbishop Sterne, who took us all to his castle, and kindly entertained us for a year-and sent us to the regiment at Carrickfergus, loaded with kindnesses, &c.most rueful and tedious journey had we all, in March, to Carrickfergus, where we arrived in six or seven days.-Little Devijeher here died; he was three years old. He had been left behind at nurse, at a farmhouse near Wicklow, but was fetched to us by my father the summer after-another child sent to fill his place, Susan; this babe too left us behind in this weary journey. E 2 a The The autumn of that year, or the been sufficient for your purpose.— My poor father died in March, 1731-I remained at Halifax till about the latter end of that year, and cannot omit mentioning this anecdote of myself and schoolmaster. He had the ceiling of the school-room new white-washed the ladder remained there—! one unlucky day mounted it, and wrote with a brush, in large capital letters, LAU. STERNE, for which the usher severely whipped me. My master was very much hurt at this, and said, before me, that never should that name be effaced, for I was a boy of genius, and he was sure I should come to preferment. -This expression made me forget the stripes I had received.-In the year 1732 my cousin sent me to the university, where I staid some time. 'Twas there that I commenced a friendship with Mr. H...... which has been most lasting of both sides.-I then came to York, and my uncle got me the living of Sutton-and at York I became acquainted with your mother, and courted her for two years.---She owned she liked me, but thought herself not rich enough, or me too poor to be joined together.-She went to her sister's in SI wrote to her often.I believe then she was partly determined to have me, but would not say so.At her return she fell into a consumption--and, one evening that I was sitting by her with an almost broken heart to see her so ill, she said," " My dear Laurey, I can never be yours, for I very believe I and have not long to live-but I have left you every shilling of my fortune."-Upon that she shewed me her will this generosity overpowered me.-It pleased God that she she recovered, and I married her in the year 1741. My uncle and my self were then upon very good terms, for he soon got me the prebendary of York-but he quarrelled with me afterwards, because I would not write paragraphs in the newspapers.-Though he was a partyman, I was not, and detested such dirty work, thinking it beneath me. From that period, he became my bitterest enemy.-By my wife's means I got the living of Stillington-a friend of her's in the south had promised her, that if she married a clergyman in Yorkshire, when the living became vacant, he would make her a compliment of it. I remained near twenty years at Sutton, doing duty at both places.-I had then very good health.Books, painting, fiddling, and shooting, were my amusements,As to the 'Squire of the parish, I cannot say we were upon a very friendly footing-but at Stillington the family of the C -s shewed us every kindness-'twas most truly agreeable to be within a mile and a half of an amiable family, who were ever cordial friends.-In the year 1760 I took a house at York for your mother and yourself, and went up to London to publish my two first volumes of Shandy.-In that year Lord F- presented me with the curacy of Coxwold-a sweet retirement in comparison of Sutton. In 1762 I went to France before the peace was concluded, and you both followed me. I left you both in France, and in two years after I went to Italy for the recovery of my health-and when I called upon you,' I tried to engage your mother to return to England with me-she and yourself are at length come and I have had the inexpressible joy of seeing my girl every thing I wished her. I have set down these particulars. relating to my family, and self, for my Lydia, in case hereafter she. might have a curiosity, or a kinder motive to know them.. Sketch of the Character of the late Dr. Hawkesworth. N Ature had endowed him with an uncommonly fine understanding, which had been improved not only by long study, but by converse with mankind. His fertile mind teemed with ideas, which he delivered in so clear, and yet concise, a manner, that no one could be at a loss perfectly to comprehend his. meaning, or ever tired by hearing him speak; especially as his diction was so unaffectedly pure, and his language so simply elegant, that the learned and unlearned attended with equal pleasure to that unstudied flow of eloquence, which, without seeming to look for them, alwaysadapted those words which were most suitable to the subject, as well as most pleasing to his hearers. It has been objected to this gentleman, that he suffered his passions to hold too strong a dominion over him: it must be confessed, a too keen sensibility seemed to him, as indeed it ever is to all who possess it, a pleasing but unfortunate gift. Alive to every tender sentiment of friendship, his heart dilated with joy whenever heaven put it in his power to be beneficial to those he loved; but this feeling disposition was the means of leading him into such frequent though transient gusts of passion, as were too much for his E 3 delicate delicate constitution to bear, with out feeling the effects of them. Yet, with all these quick sensations, he was incapable of lasting resentment, or revenge; and had he never found an enemy till he had done an injury, he would, we may venture to pronounce, have left the world without having known one. Dr. Hawkesworth was certainly of a serious turn of mind, and his fort in writing was on subjects of, the graver kind; yet his Edgar and Emmeline, several little detached pieces scattered in the Gentleman's Magazine, as well as many of his papers in the Adventurer, abound with a strain of wit and humour, which affords sufficient proof to any one of his sportive powers of fancy, whenever he gave it play. All who have enjoyed his society, when mirth circulated round the convivial board, will acknowledge the pleasure they have often felt at those inoffensive sallies of imagination, which were never employed to ridicule religion, or expose the infirmities of his fellow-creatures. To sum up the whole in a few words: He was the scholar and the gentleman joined-two characters which seldom meet in one; and, if we add to this the good man, surely it is all that humanity can arrive at. Such was Dr. Hawkesworth. While remembrance remains in the minds of those who knew and loved him, he will ever be lamented. He was born in the year 1719, and died in the year 1774. Anecdotes of the Life, with observations on the Character and Writings of the late Paul Whitehead, Esq. Mr. Whitehead's father was by parish of St. Martin's. MR. Paul Whitehead was the of a reputable tradesman in Westminster, where he was born in 1710. Having received an education suitable to his birth and circumstances, he was apprenticed to a woollen-draper: in which situation he became acquainted with Mr. Lowth, as well known for his deserving character as a man, as for the confidential distinction it obtained him, in being appointed executor to the celebrated tragedian Mr. Quin. Their Mr. Lowth being apprenticed to the same master, an intimacy naturally arose between two fellowservants of congenial dispositions, if not of equal talents. acquaintances and friendships of course became in a great degree reciprocal; so that it was probably owing to Mr. Lowth's intimacy with Quin, that Mr. Whitehead first became acquainted with Fleetwood, the manager of Drury-Lane theatre, an acquaintance which proved fatal to Mr. Whitehead's affairs in the early part of his life. Mr. Fleetwood, it seems, whose dissipated character and necessitous circumstances were as well known, as the desperate means he frequently employed to extricate himself from them; had influence enough over his friend Paul to induce him to enter into a joint security with him for the payment of three thousand pounds. Not, says Fleetwood, "that the obligation will be bind ing on you at all, but another "name is wanting as a matter of "course." How Mr. Whitehead, who, in the latter part of his life, wanted not for prudence or caution, came to be so egregiously over profession a taylor, and lived in the reached reached in this matter-of-course, is hard to account, unless we may suppose his latter shrewdness the artificial effect of dear-bought experience, as suspicion is the natural consequence of disappointed credulity. On the other hand, it is but doing justice to Mr. Fleetwood to observe, that, though he must be allowed to have greatly deviated from the truth on this occasion, he might flatter himself with hopes, and even have some kind of assurance, that things would take such a turn in his favour, as in the end not to prove so injurious to his too credulous and good-natured friend.. Fleetwood, indeed, to a real carelessness and extreme inattention to his affairs, added an affected openness and unconcern, that, joined to his natural, easy, and insinuating behaviour, would impose the most designing mask of duplicity for the genuine countenance of simplicity and security. It were otherwise difficult to account for a man of Mr. Whitehead's understanding and knowledge of the world, (for he was then no boy) becoming so great a dupe. Be this, however, as it may, Fleetwood's failure to discharge the obligation subjected Mr. Whitehead to the penalty of the bond; and he was accordingly reduced to the necessity of residing in the rules of the Fleet for a considerable time. This circumstance happened about the year 1742, some years before which he had distinguished himself in the career of political party by conversation and action, and in the world of letters by his writings. It was principally to Mr. Whitehead the town was indebted for that hearty laugh it enjoyed many years ago from the mock procession, whose just and timely ridicule put the anniversary, parade of the free-masons so much out of countenance, that it has been ever since discontinued *. In the famous contested election between Trentham and Vandeput, for Westminster, Mr. Whitehead exerted all his activity, frequently heading numerous bodies of the electors in person, and supplying the press with daily advertisements and electioneering squibs in favour of Sir George Vandeput f... As to his political principles in general, if we may judge of them by his writings, he appears to have been animated with that laudable zeal for liberty, which usually displays its greatest warmth in thebreast of men of genius, apostrophe to the Patriot on this subject is animated and beautiful. His * In this he was assisted by the well-known Mr. Squire Carey. + Mr. Whitehead is said to have been the author of the famous Case of Alexander Murray, Esq; which owed its origin to the same election. |