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when this source of amusement was exhausted, he was accustomed to apply to the neighbouring cottagers for work. An antiquarian friend relates to the writer, that there were few pottage-pots, skillets, or saucepans in the vicinity of his house, which had not at one time or another furnished evidence of the General's skill;-and relates the following anecdote:

"John Tilbury, now living, and at the age of 90 still vigorous enough to take a leading part in singing the psalms at Penn Church, and who at that time frequently joined the church choir with his bassoon, had the mishap to break some of the brass work of his instrument—and as a matter of course carried it to the General to repair. When finished, Tilbury drew out his canvas bag of money with a flourish, and put the question-" Well General, what am I in your debt for the job?" My price," replied the veteran with good humour, " is, should it be again broken, to let me have the pleasure of again repairing it."

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He had a great antipathy to an untruth, and rarely or never forgave any person who had once sinned in this respect towards him. Of this the young officers under his command were so well aware, as some of them now living say, that when they wished for leave of absence, and assigned some fictitious reason to him to obtain it, they continued in the greatest dread lest the real motive, which was commonly a pleasurable excursion, should be discovered.*

The following notice of this veteran appeared in the newspapers at the period of his death, September, 1784, believed to be from the pen of Burke:

Mrs. Salisbury Haviland, his lady, well-known among many of the wits of the time for possessing

"Died at Penn, in Buckinghamshire, in the 67th year of his age, General William Haviland, Colonel of the 45th regiment. He was an officer distinguished for his long and able services, having spent his whole life in the army; for his father being an officer, he was born while the regiment was on duty in Ireland. He himself acted as Lieutenant under Lord Cathcart at the memorable siege of Carthagena; and afterwards with Vernon at the conquest of Porto Bello. He then served as Aid-du-Camp under General Blakeney during the rebellion in Scotland. In the subsequent war, from the beginning of hostilities he served in America, where he had a separate command, and by his exertions and success received the particular acknowledgments of Lord Amherst, who has ever since honoured him with his friendship.

“A singular genius for mechanics enabled him to concert measures for passing the Rapids; and the fertility of his resources in other unusual circumstances, made him very efficient (under his distinguished commander) in contributing to the success of the English arms in America. In the same war he acted as second in command at the conqust of Martinique, and in a very high one at the Havannah; so that having had the good fortune through life to be placed in the most conspicuous scenes of action on chosen services, and with the most eminent men, he acted in such a manner as even among them to attain a high reputation for courage and ability.

"When the last war broke out he was put on the staff, and after being a very short time at Whitehaven, he was entrusted with the command of the western division of the island during the whole time the French invasion was expected, and there continued till the end of the war. The station was important and the service delicate; there he had the happiness to preserve perfect harmony between the regular forces and militia; while by the prudent disposition of his troops and an exact discipline he performed the more substantial functions, he maintained the dignity of his situation by a style of life which became the service of his Sovereign.

"His house was open to the navy as well as to the army; and the force of personal character, which was cordial, plain, informed, and unaffected, did much to facilitate the national service

an original and vigorous mind, was much admired by Mr. Burke, who when in town, frequently corresponded with her on the topics of the day. She had a taste for poetry, and wrote verses with ease and spirit. Her sisters, Mrs. Balfour and Miss Aston, who lived with her after the death of her husband, were likewise superior women; and the former, who possessed a lively disposition, is said to have given Garrick the first idea of the character of the Irish Widow, in his farce of that name, by a trick played off in a familiar party upon the simplicity of Goldsmith. This lady it seems, for a piece of amusement, personated such a characterjust arrived from Ireland, full of brogue and blunders-with wit, rant, and impudence-a little gentility nevertheless-and, added to all, assuming to be an authoress, soliciting subscriptions for her poems. Some of these she read with an affected enthusiasm, which created the greatest amusement among those who were in the secret. Goldsmith-the great Goldsmith as she called him, her countryman and of course, friend, she flattered extravagantly, and rein a country little inured to the burthen of arms, and when so many principal gentlemen were drawn away from their occupations and amusements. The same disposition followed him through life. To his own regiment he was a kind father, and to the younger officers of it his house was literally a home. The consequence however is, that in a long course of service, overlooking many opportunities of emolument but none of benevolence, though he always maintained a just economy, he has left his family in very narrow circumstances; for the sole reward of his services was a marching regiment on the Irish establishment, which was bestowed upon him very late in life, and with a constitution harassed and broken, not less from the variety than from the length of his services."

peatedly appealed to him on the merit of the pieces, which he praised with all due warmth in her presence offered his subscription-and as strongly abused the verses (as well perhaps he might) when she retired. This scene, it is said, offered a finished specimen of acting.

Among their other acquaintance was Dean Marlay, frequently mentioned by Boswell for his sprightly and sociable qualities, who having passed a very agreeable day in the society of these ladies, sent them the following jeu d'esprit :—

HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO TWO CELEBRATED COQUETS.

An Answer to Mrs. Haviland, who asked, or ought to have asked, "What is Coquetry?"

Haviland.—What's Coquetry? His Reverence.--April weather,
Not the same two hours together;
Like a weather-cock still turning,
Now 'tis freezing, now 'tis burning;
Now 'tis tender, now 'tis rude,
Now 'tis formal like a prude;
Youthful, beautiful, and blooming,
Whilst submissive, still presuming;
Every winning art expert in,
Lovely, lively, and uncertain;
Flatt'ring promises still making,
Promises each moment breaking;
Sweetly trifling, gaily prating,
Love in every breast creating;
'Tis a dear bewitching sprite,
Made of beauty, wit, and spite;
Form'd to deceive and to subdue,

And look like-false Balfour and you.

During the summer, Mr. Burke received a visit from his old friend Mr. Shackleton and his daughter,

an ingenious lady, already introduced to the reader under the name of Leadbeater, who, charmed with the situation of his park and its vicinity, wrote a short poem descriptive of the scenery, the mansion, and a faithful sketch of its owner, of which the following forms the introduction.

All hail, ye woods, in deepest gloom array'd!
Admit a stranger through your rev'rend shade,
With timid step to seek the fair retreat,
Where Virtue and where Genius fix their seat:
In vain retiring from the public gaze,
Not deepest shades can veil so bright a blaze.
Lo! there the mansion stands in princely pride;
The beauteous wings extend on either side;
Unsocial pomp flies from the cheerful gate,
Where hospitality delights to wait;

A brighter grace her candid smile bestows
Than the majestic pillars comely rows.
Enter these ever-open doors, and find

All that can strike the eye, or charm the mind:
Painting and sculpture there their pride display,
And splendid chambers deck'd in rich array.

But these are not the honours of the dome
Where Burke resides, and strangers find a home;
To whose glad hearth the social virtues move,
Paternal fondness, and connubial love,
Benevolence unwearied, friendship true,
And wit unforced, and converse ever new,
And manners, where the polish'd court we trace,
Combined with artless nature's noble grace.

When the sad voice of indigence he hears,
And pain and sickness, eloquent in tears-
Forsakes the festive board with pitying eyes,

*

Mingles the healing draught, and sickness flies;

There was in this (as indeed in every other part of the cha

racter) something more than mere poetical compliment of the fair authoress.

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