No. 264.

PRICE FOURPENCE.

REVIEWS

Memoirs of Dr. Burney. By his daughter Mad. D'Arblay. 3 vols. 8vo. London: Moxon.

Or Dr. Burney, the world has heard a good deal from himself and others, and now as much more as we are ever likely to know, is revealed to us in these volumes, by his accomplished daughter, the authoress of 'Evelina.' He lived in the good and fruitful times of Thomson, Armstrong, Johnson, Warton, Reynolds, Barry, Goldsmith, Percy, Gainsborough, Bruce, Boswell, Burke, Sheridan, and Garrick; he was their friend and companion, and, to a fine spirit of observation, added a deep knowledge of music, as his History shows, and a genius for literature, as all his compositions prove. Mad. D'Arblay was his companion during many eventful years: she is the inheritor of his talents and accomplishments-and, as these Memoirs sufficiently show, of his anecdotes, remarks, and observations on men and manners. She had access to all his correspondence and memoranda, which, added to her own happiness of memory and talent for remark, have enabled her to write a memoir, which cannot fail to be widely circulated-in short, it has more of the faults and excellencies of Boswell's 'Life of Johnson,' than any work we have lately seen. The chief charm of the volumes lies in the genius of the men who are made to speak, and in the sincerity and truth of their words; these anecdotes are not the ten times repeated rumours picked up by some ignorant person about town; they are vouched for by those whose candour has gained the world's confidence, and come as well authenticated as official records. Those who wish

to see the brilliant parties of the days of hooped petticoats and three-story wigs, and hear the witty chit-chat of the brightest men in art and literature, may do so cheaply now; while any one who desires to write of the poets, and critics, and artists, of half a century, will find in these Memoirs, a fine store of fresh and interesting materials.

We shall at present give no further account of these volumes, but proceed to pick a few pearls from Mad. D'Arblay's splendid string; it is of no importance where we begin our extracts, nor is it at all difficult to make selections our musical friends will not dislike something of Dr. Arne :—

"Eminent, however, in that art as was Dr. Arne, his eminence was to that art alone con

fined. Thoughtless, dissipated, and careless, he neglected, or rather scoffed at all other but musical reputation. And he was so little scrupulous in his ideas of propriety, that he took pride, rather than shame, in being publicly classed, even in the decline of life, as a man of pleasure.

"Such a character was ill qualified to form or to protect the morals of a youthful pupil;

and it is probable that not a notion of such a duty ever occurred to Dr. Arne; so happy was his self-complacency in the fertility of his invention and the ease of his compositions, and so dazzled by the brilliancy of his success in his powers of melody-which, in truth, for the English stage, were in sweetness and variety unrivalled-that, satisfied and flattered by the practical exertions and the popularity of his fancy, he had no ambition, or, rather, no thought concerning the theory of his art.

"The depths of science, indeed, were the last that the gay master had any inclination to sound; and, in a very short time, through something that mingled jealousy with inability, the disciple was wholly left to work his own way as he could through the difficulties of his professional progress.

"Had neglect, nevertheless, been the sole deficiency that young Burney had to lament, it would effectually have been counteracted by his own industry: but all who are most wanting to others, are most rapacious of services for themselves; and the time in which the advancement of the scholar ought to have been blended with the advantage of the teacher, was almost exclusively seized upon for the imposition of laborious tasks of copying music: and thus, a drudgery fitted for those who have no talents to cultivate; or those who, in possessing them, are driven from their enjoyment by distress, filled up nearly the whole time of the student, and constituted almost wholly the directions of the tutor."

Concerning Garrick, there is much in these volumes: when Dr. Burney was left a widower with six helpless children, David was a frequent visitor: the following is amiable and characteristic.

'Garrick, who was passionately fond of children, never withheld his visits from Poland

street on account of the absence of the master of the house; for though it was the master he came to seek, he was too susceptible to his own

lively gift of bestowing pleasure, to resist witnessing the ecstacy he was sure to excite, when he burst in unexpectedly upon the younger branches for so playfully he individualized his attentions, by an endless variety of comic badinage, now exhibited in lofty bombast; now in ludicrous obsequiousness; now by a sarcasm skilfully implying a compliment; now by a compliment archly conveying a sarcasm; that every happy day that gave them but a glimpse of this its close by reciprocating anecdotes of the look, idol of their juvenile fancy, was exhilarated to

the smile, the bow, the shrug, the start, that, after his departure, each enraptured admirer could describe."

Of that eminent engraver Sir Robert Strange, we know next to nothing, and the authoress has our thanks for introducing us to the acquaintance of him and his lady; the latter, one of the most agreeable and clever women of her time.

"The worthy, as well as eminent, Sir Robert Strange, the first engraver of his day, with his extraordinary wife and agreeable family, were, from the time of the second marriage, amongst the most familiar visitors of the Burney house.

"The term extraordinary, is not here applied to Lady Strange, to denote any singularity of action, conduct, or person: it is simply limited to her conversational powers; which, for mother wit in brilliancy of native ideas, and readiness of associating analogies, placed her foremost in the rank of understanding females, with whom Mr. Burney delighted to reciprocate sportive, yet deeply reflective, discourse. For though the education of Lady Strange had not been cultivated by scholastic lore, she might have said, with the famous Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, My books are men, and I read them very currently.' And in that instinctive knowledge of human nature which penetration developes, and observation turns to account, she was a profound adept.

"Yet, with these high-seasoned powers of exhilaration for others, she was palpably far from happy herself; and sometimes, when felicitated upon her delightful gaiety, she would smile through a face of woe, and, sorrowfully shaking her head, observe how superficial was judgment upon the surface of things, and how wide from each other might be vivacity and happiness! the one springing only from native animal spirits; the other being always held in subjection by the occurrences that meet, or that mar our feelings. And often, even in the midst of the lively laugh that she had sent around her, there would issue quite aloud, from the inmost recesses of her breast, a sigh so deep it might rather be called a groan.

"Very early in life, she had given away her heart and her hand without the sanction of a loved. And though she was always, and justly, father whom, while she disobeyed, she ardently satisfied with her choice, and her deserving mate, she could never so far subdue her retrospective sorrow, as to regain that inward serenity of mind, that has its source in reflections that have never been broken by jarring interests and regrets."

The description of Dr. Burney busied with his 'History of Music,' is not amiss :

'Again, therefore, he returned to his History of Music; and now, indeed, he went to work with all his might. The capacious table of his small but commodious study, exhibited, in what he called his chaos, the countless increasing stores of his materials. Multitudinous, or, rather, innumerous blank books, were severally adapted to concentrating some peculiar portion of the work. Theory; practice; music of the ancients; music in parts; national mu

sic; lyric, church, theatrical, warlike music

universal biography of composers and performers, of patrons and of professors; and histories of musical institutions, had all their destined blank volumes.

"And he opened a widely circulating correspondence, foreign and domestic, with various musical authors, composers, and students, whether professors or dilletante.

"And for all this mass of occupation, he neglected no business, he omitted no devoir. The system by which he obtained time no one missed, yet that gave to him lengthened life, indepen dent of longevity from years, was through the skill with which, indefatigably, he profited from every fragment of leisure."

The following is new to us; we have been expecting for some time Prior's promised 'Life of Goldsmith;' we hope, when it comes, there will be a fuller light thrown on the story of his projected dictionary.

"Dr. Goldsmith, now in the meridian of his late-earned, but most deserved prosperity, was projecting an English Dictionary of Arts and Sciences, upon the model of the French Encyclopædia. Sir Joshua Reynolds was to take the department of painting; Mr. Garrick, that of acting; Dr. Johnson, that of ethics: and no other class was yet nominated, when Dr. Bur

Every body rose to do him honour; and he returned the attention with the most formal courtesie. My father then, having welcomed him with the warmest respect, whispered to him that music was going forward; which he would not, my father thinks, have found out; and placing him on the best seat vacant, told his daughters to go on with the duet; while Dr. Johnson, intently rolling towards them one eye -for they say he does not see with the other

the medium of Mr. Garrick.

"Justly gratified by a call to make one in so select a band, Dr. Burney willingly assented; and immediately drew up the article "Musician;" which he read to Mr. Garrick, from whom it received warm plaudits.

"The satisfaction of Dr. Goldsmith in this acquisition to his forces, will be seen by the ensuing letter to Mr. Garrick: by whom it was enclosed, with the following words, to Dr. Burney.

"June 11, 1773.

"My dear Doctor,-I have sent you a letter from Dr. Goldsmith. He is proud to have your name among the elect.

"Love to all your fair ones. Ever yours,

66 6

"D. GARRICK.'

To David Garrick, Esq. "Temple, Jan. 10, 1773. "Dear Sir,-To be thought of by you, obliges me; to be served by you, still more. It makes me very happy to find that Dr. Burney thinks my scheme of a Dictionary useful; still more that he will be so kind as to adorn it with anything of his own. I beg you, also, will accept my gratitude for procuring me so valuable an acquisition.

I am,

"Dear Sir,
"Your most affectionate servant,
"OLIVER GOLDSMITH.'

"The work, however, was never accomplished, and its project sunk away to nothing; sincerely to the regret of those who knew what might be expected from that highly qualified writer, on a plan that would eminently have brought forth all his various talents; and which was conceived upon so grand a scale, and was to be supported by such able coadjutors."

The character of Barry the painter, is in small, but much to the purpose:

The most striking, however, though by no means the most reasonable converser among those who generally volunteered their colloquial services in St. Martin's-street, was that eminent painter, and entertaining character, Mr. Barry; who with a really innocent belief that he was the most modest and moderate of men, nourished the most insatiable avidity of applause; who, with a loudly laughing defiance of the ills of life, was internally and substantially sinking under their annoyance; and who, with a professed and sardonic contempt of rival prosperity or superiority, disguised, even to himself, the bitterness with which he pined at the success which he could not share, but to which he flattered himself that he was indifferent, or above; because so to be, behoved the character of his believed adoption, that of a genuine votary to philanthropy and philosophy."

Nothing could well be better than the account which Mad. D'Arblay, then Miss Burney, wrote of her first interview with Johnson, in the house of Thrale, at Streatham; it is given in a letter to Mr. Crisp: "Well, in the midst of this performance, and before the second movement was come to a close, -Dr. Johnson was announced!

with one hand, in silent approvance of the proceeding.

"But now, my dear Mr. Crisp, I am mortified to own, what you, who always smile at my enthusiasm, will hear without caring a straw for —that he is, indeed, very ill-favoured! Yet he has naturally a noble figure: tall, stout, grand, and authoritative: but he stoops horribly; his back is quite round: his mouth is continually opening and shutting, as if he were chewing something; he has a singular method of twirling his fingers, and twisting his hands his vast body is in constant agitation, see-sawing backwards and forwards: his feet are never a moment quiet; and his whole great person looked often as if it were going to roll itself, quite voluntarily, from his chair to the floor.

"But you always charge me to write without reserve or reservation, and so I obey as usual. Else, I should be ashamed to acknowledge having remarked such exterior blemishes in so exalted a character.

"His dress, considering the times, and that he had meant to put on all his best becomes, for he was engaged to dine with a very fine party at Mrs. Montagu's, was as much out of the common road as his figure. He had a large, full, bushy wig, a snuff-colour coat, with gold buttons, (or, peradventure, brass,) but no ruffles to his doughty fists; and not, I suppose, to be taken for a Blue, though going to the Blue Queen, he had on very coarse black worsted stockings.

"He is shockingly near-sighted; a thousand times more so than either my Padre or myself. He did not even know Mrs. Thrale, till she held out her hand to him; which she did very engagingly. After the first few minutes, he drew his chair close to the pianoforte, and then bent down his nose quite over the keys, to examine them, and the four hands at work upon them; till poor Hetty and Susan hardly knew how to play on, for fear of touching his phiz; or, which was harder still, how to keep their countenances; and the less, as Mr. Seward, who seems to be very droll and shrewd, and was much diverted, ogled them slyly, with a provoking expression of arch enjoyment of their apprehensions.

"When it was over, Mrs. Thrale, in a laughbe so good as to tell me what that song was, and whose, which Savoi sung last night at Bach's concert, and which you did not hear?'

My father confessed himself by no means so able a diviner, not having had time to consult the stars, though he lived in the house of Sir Isaac Newton. But anxious to draw Dr. Johnson into conversation, he ventured to interrupt him with Mrs. Thrale's conjuring request relative to Bach's concert.

"The Doctor, comprehending his drift, good. naturedly put away his book, and, see-sawing, with a very humorous smile, drolly repeated, 'Bach, sir?-Bach's concert?-And pray, sir, who is Bach? Is he a piper?"

One fine touch of Johnson's critical powers is related in the same letter; he was never at a loss, and his sagacity was equal to his wit.

"Mr. Seward gave an amusing account of a fable which Mr. Garrick had written by way of prologue, or introduction, upon this occasion. In this he says, that a blackbird, grown old and feeble, droops his wings, &c. &c., and gives up singing; but, upon being called upon by the eagle, his voice recovers its powers, its spirits revive, he sets age at defiance, and sings better than ever.

"There is not,' said Dr. Johnson, again beginning to see-saw, much of the spirit of fabulosity in this fable! for the call of an eagle never yet had much tendency to restore the warbling of a black-bird! 'Tis true, the fabu lists frequently make the wolves converse with the lambs; but then, when the conversa tion is over, the lambs are always devoured! And, in that manner, the eagle, to be sure, may entertain the blackbird-but the entertainment

always ends in a feast for the eagle."

The history of 'Evelina' is related at full length; nor can we say, egotistical as it is, published anonymously, and gradually made but that we like it greatly. The work was its way in the world, till it obtained the enviable applauses of such judges as Burke and Johnson; nor is the letter which Mrs.

kiss.

66

Beyond this chaste embrace, his attention was not to be drawn off two minutes longer from the books, to which he now strided his for way; we had left the drawing-room for the library, on account of the piano-forte. He pored over them, shelf by shelf, almost brushing them with his eye-lashes from near examination. At last, fixing upon something that happened to hit his fancy, he took it down, and standing aloof from the company, which he seemed clean and clear to forget, he began, without further ceremony, and very composedly, to read to himself; and

ing:

'Dear Doctor Burney, Doctor Johnson returned home last night full of the praises of the book I had lent him: protesting there were passages in it that might do honour to Richard

son.

We talk of it for ever; and he, Doctor Johnson, feels ardent after the denouement. Ile could not get rid of the Rogue! he said. I then lent him the second volume, which he in stantly read; and he is, even now, busy with

the third.

"You must be more a philosopher, and less a father than I wish you, not to be pleased with this letter; and the giving such pleasure yields to nothing but receiving it. Long, my dear Sir, may you live to enjoy the just praises of your children! And long may they live to deserve and delight such a parent!"

The young authoress sat beside Johnson at an entertainment at Streatham, and kept

brought an army from India, to aid his brethren in Egypt: neither is he a timid adventurer in the regions of biography: he is not afraid of speaking freely of thrones and dominions: he accuses General Harris, as well as Lord Wellesley, of gross partiality; nor does he hesitate to charge the East India Company of the days of Hyder Aly, with hypocrisy and injustice. These things beget confidence in his honesty: but they are accompanied with some drawbacks. The narrative is frequently confused and rambling; in its course, it somewhat resembles, from its manifold involvements, the walls of Troy, with which school-boys perplex one another; the style wants simplicity and conciseness; the two volumes might be easily made into one, and yet not one word of information be lost, nor a single touch of character neglected. Moreover, the author misses no opportunity to insult the East India Company, whom he represents as ignorant, overbearing, and rapacious; and, indeed, he seems but little satisfied with anything but the character of his hero, which he takes good care to eulogizesometimes when little has been done to merit it. Another complaint, and we have done the biographer disposes of too many of the most characteristic traits of his hero, in we would much rather they had adorned his narrative.

notes:

The story of Sir David Baird is soon told; he was born at Newbyth, in Scotland, in December 1757; his father died while he was young, and his mother, a kind and clever lady, watched over his education, and, it is said, foretold his future fortune. He was a frank-hearted, active, and daring boy, and, having a military turn, obtained a commission in the army when but fifteen years old: he soon became a favourite with the men, and with his superior officers. He was always at his post; always vigilant and cheerful; always desirous of maintaining discipline and obedience, and ever ready to share in all the hardships and privations of his men in long marches, and was ever foremost in battle, and the last in a retreat. He was tall, well proportioned, and vigorous; few men could run from him on a fair field: his courage was high; his sense of honour keen; and in all the emergencies of war, he never lost for a moment his presence of mind. He was cheerful and animated at all times, and, ere he reached the rank of captain, was the darling of the soldiers of Macleod's Highlanders, whose favour he won by the Scottish songs which he sung, and the Scottish sayings which he related, when they halted on a march, or were preparing for battle. He was in India, when Hyder Aly burst with eighty thousand men into the Presidency of Madras, and was desperately wounded and made prisoner on that bloody field where Col. Bailie and Col. Fletcher sunk under the attack of the conqueror of the Mysore. When peace ensued, he was released from a dungeon and irons in Seringapatam; and continued to serve his country with equal courage and prudence, till the conduct of Tippoo Saib induced Lord Mornington to direct against him nearly all the disposable

force of the British in India.

The army was commanded by General Harris; the officers under him, were BrigadierGeneral Baird, General Mathew, and Colonel Wellesley, now Duke of Wellington. In the attack on the Sultan's camp, Baird was one

of the foremost, and when the batteries had breached the walls of Seringapatam, he led the storming party, who conquered the place, slew Tippoo, and overturned his kingdom. Before the sweat was dried on his brow, he was commanded to deliver up Seringapatam to Colonel Wellesley, a junior officer; and for presuming to remonstrate with his General on this sad partiality, the conqueror of Tippoo was in danger of being tried by a court martial. It is true, that Lord Mornington embraced him, promised him many favours which he never fulfilled, and presented to him the Sultan's sword. In the midst of these agitations, he was dispatched on that extraordinary expedition, which threw the veterans of the Mysore upon the plains of Egypt, to contend with the conquerors of Italy. The patience, the courage, and fortitude with which Baird braved difficult seas, and traversed deserts, till he united his forces to those of General Hutchinson, merit a historian like Xenophon: his efforts were successful; the French, beaten and hemmed in on all sides, capitulated, and Baird returned to India: he returned, however, to be thwarted, disappointed, and in a manner insulted, by the prevalence of that favouritism, which respects neither worth nor genius. He came to England in disgust: his great merit, however, placed him at the head of that expedition which defeated the Dutch and conquered the Cape of Good Hope; but he was superseded, for presuming to serve his country, by attempting the conquest of the Spanish part of South America, in conjunction with Sir Home Popham.

On his return to England, General Baird found the ministry who had disgraced him no longer in power; he soon gained friends, who procured him a command in that expedition which was sent to menace or conquer Copenhagen, and capture the Danish fleet. When this was achieved, though not without wounds, he was sent with a portion of the army into Spain, and was united with Sir John Moore, in that disastrous retreat and astonishing victory which were alike disgraceful to the discipline, and glorious to the valour of the English. In one of the charges at the battle of Corunna, he was struck on the arm with grape shot, which smashed the bone from the elbow to the shoulder, and occasioned such pain that he was obliged to leave the field: ordinary amputation did not suffice, the shattered limb had to be removed at the socket of the shoulder: he endured the operation with wondrous fortitude. This was

the last of his fields: he returned to his

native land, married an accomplished lady, and died on the 18th of August, 1829, with the reputation of an eminent leader, and a gentle and generous man.

We shall now proceed to select out a few of the passages which we marked for quotation or reference as we read. The siege and storming of Seringapatam have been often described, and, to tell the truth, with more success than in these volumes : we, however, never before met with such marked instances of preference and partiality in promotion of officers as we have found during the siege, and after the storming of the place. The readiness with which young men, of what is called gentle blood and connexion, can rise over the heads of the best and bravest officers, has long been the shame and curse of the British army. Baird, than whom a better

or worthier never drew a sword, was an early victim. On the march to Seringapatam Col. Wellesley, though a junior officer, had a larger portion of the army to command than Baird; and when the place was taken, the conqueror had to give way to the favou rite-upon this he wrote the following spirited and gentlemanly letter.

To Lieutenant-General Harris, Commander-inchief, &c. &c.

Sir,-Having, in a letter which I had this morning the honour to address to you, given a detailed account of the assault of the fort of Seringapatam, the conduct of which you did me the honour to intrust to me, permit me now, Sir, to address you on the subject of the events which have taken place since that time.

"Having been honoured with the conduct of the assault, and having executed that duty to your satisfaction, I naturally concluded that I should have been permitted to retain the command of Seringapatam, or, at least, that I should not be superseded in it by a junior officer. Judge, then, my surprise, when expecting to have the honour of delivering to you the keys of Seringapatam, in the palace of the late Tippoo Sultaun, and of congratulating you on the most brilliant victory that ever graced the British arms in India, to have an order put into my hands by Colonel Wellesley, by which I found myself instantly superseded in the command by that officer. I am really ignorant what part of my conduct could merit such treatment.

"When, on a former occasion, Colonel Wellesley was appointed to the command of the detachment serving with his highness the Nizam, while I remained in charge of a brigade, you informed me that matters of a political nature made it necessary to have that officer with the Nizam's army. Although I severely felt the appointment of a junior officer to so distinguished a command, while I remained in an inferior station, I submitted to the necessity which you informed me dictated the measure; but this second supersession I feel most sensibly, as it must have the effect of leading his Majesty and the commander-in-chief in Eng land to believe that I am not fit for any command of importance, when it has been thought proper to give the command of Seringapatam to Colonel Wellesley, while he, at the same time, continues to hold the command of the Nizam's detachment.

"In camp it is rumoured to have been at my own request that another officer was ap pointed to the command of Seringapatam; you, Sir, must know that this is not the case. The request, if made, must have been made by me to you; and, so far from its ever being my inten tion to make such a request, if (after the assur ances I have repeatedly received from you, that you would take the first opportunity of placing hold than that of the command of a brigade,) I me in a situation more adequate to the rank I had deemed it necessary to make any request to you, it would have been to be placed in the command of Seringapatam; and when I reflected that my two seniors, belonging to the coast army, continued to stand appointed to the

northern and southern divisions of the Carnatic, and that the Hon. Col. Wellesley, the next junior to me,

stood appointed to the command of an army, while I remained in charge of a brigade, I should have felt that I was hinting a doubt, which I never entertained, of the sincerity of those assurances, if I had made a particular application for the command of Seringapatam-indeed, I could not think it neces

sary.

enabled me to act so distinguished a part in the "I cannot but feel obliged by your having storm, though I find so little attention has, in every other instance, been paid to my requests,