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Admired and valued in a distant land,

His gentle maoners all affection won ;
The prostrate Hindu own'd his fostering hand,

And Science mark'd him for her fay'rite soos

Regret and praise the general voice bestows,

And public sorrows with domestic blend;
But deeper yet must be the grief of those,

Who while the sage they honour'd, lov'd the friend.”


Of this very ingenious, but unfortunate, man, who, as I now learn from Mr. Southey’s “Specimens," died as long ago as 1796, very little is known to the public. I have always understood he was younger brother to the present Sir Charles Bampfylde, Bart. If so, he was born 27 Aug. 1754. He was educated at Cambridge, where I became acquainted with his Sonnets, two years after their publication. They appeared with the following title: Sixteen Sonnets, London: Printed by J. Millidge;

and sold by D. Prince, of Oxford; Messrs. Merrill and Co. Cambridge; and D. Browne, at Garrick's Head, in Catherine Strect, in the Strand. 1778.

Sm. 4to.

The following is the dedication:

“To Miss Palmer, * these Sonnets, which have been honoured with her approbation, are dedicated by her very sincere and devoted humble servant, John Bampfylde."

* Niece to Sir Joshua Reyoolds, now Marchioness of Thomond.


Soon after the publication of these Sonnets, from what unfortunate cause I am ignorant, he began to exhibit symptoms of mental derangement; and is said to have passed the last years of his life in confinement.

These Sonnets, little known, which always appeared to me to possess great and original merit, have now received the sanction of Mr. Southey's praise, with which I am much gratified. But as I am anxious to extend his fame by additional channels, I shall, while a friend of mine is preparing a new edition of the whole, in conjunction with the neglected relics of two or three other deserving young men of genius, insert two specimens here.


“ As when, to one, who long hath watchd, the Morn

Advancing, slow forewards th' approach of day, (What time the young and flowry-kirtled May

Decks the green hedge, and dewy grass unshorn
With cowslips pale, and many a whitening thorn ;)

And now the sun comes forth, with level ray
Gilding the high-wood top, and mountain gray;

And, as he climbs, the meadows 'gins adorn;
The rivers glisten to the dancing beam,

Th' awaken'd birds begin their amorous strain,

And hill and vale with joy and fragrance teem ;
Such is the sight of thee; thy wish'd return
To eyes, like mine, that long have wak’d to mourn,

That long have watch'd for light, and wept in vain !"

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To Mr. Jackson of Exeler.

" Tho' Winter's storms embrown the dusky vale,

And dark and wistful wanes the low'ring year;
Tho' bleak the moor, forlorn the cots, appear,

And thro' the hawthorn sighs the sullen gale;
Yet do thy strains most rare, thy lays, ne'er fail

Midst the drear scene my drooping heart to chear;
Warm the chill blood, and draw the rapturous tear.

Whether thou lov'st in mournful mood to wail
Lycid 'bright genius of the sounding shore,'
Or else with slow and solemn hymns to move

My thoughts to piety and virtue's lore;
But chiefest when, (if Delia grace the measure,)
Thy lyre o'erwhelming all my soul in pleasure,

Rolls the soft song of joy, and endless love."

Mr. Jackson intended to have published an edition of Bampfylde's poems, with some account of the author, with whom he had a personal acquaintance; but he died without accomplishing his design.


I take this opportunity of giving a short account of this author.

William Jackson of Exeter was son of a tradesman of that city, where he was born about 1730. As he early discovered a great genius for music, he was educated to that profession under the organist of the cathedral there. He afterwards went to London, where he improved himself under eminent masters, and returned to teach music at the place of his nativity. At length, in 1777, he was appointed organist of Exeter cathedral.


In 1782 he rose at once into literary fame by the publication of “ Thirty Letters on various Subjects," 2 vols. 12mo. These principally consisted of Essays on the Belles Lettres, and evinced taste, learning, vi. vacity, originality, and even genius.

His celebrity in musical composition had already been widely extended, and he now held a considerable rank amongst authors.

In 1798 he published “ The Four Ages; together with Essays on various subjects. By William Jackson, of Exeter." 8vo. pp. 454. Printed for Cadell and Davies.

This work consisted of so much instructive, original, and entertaining matter, that it added much to the author's well-earned fame. It contained however some opinions on religion not sufficiently considered, and which gave offence to serious readers.

His account of Gainsborough the painter, will exhibit a characteristic and interesting specimen.

Gainsborough, the painter. “In the early part of my life I became acquainted with Thomas Gainsborough, the painter; and as his character was perhaps better known to me, 'than to any other person, I will endeavour to divest myself of every partiality, and speak of him, as he really was. I am the rather induced to this, by seeing accounts of him and his works given" by people, who were unada. quainted with either, and, consequently, have been mistaken in both.

“ Gainsborough's profession was painting, and music was his amusement; yet, there were times when music seemed to be his employment, and painting his diversion. As his skill in music has been celebrated, . 1 will, before I speak of him as a painter; mention what degree of merit he possessed as a musician.

" When I first knew him he lived at Bath, where Giardini had been exhibiting his then unrivalled powers on the violin.' His excellent performance made Gainsborough enamoured of that instrument; and conceiving, like the servant-maid in the Spectator, that the music lay in the fiddle, he was frantic until he possessed the very instrument which had given him 50 much pleasure; but seemed much surprised that the music of it remained behind with Giardini!

"He had scarcely recovered this shock (for it was a great one to him)'when he heard Abel on the viol-digamba. The violin was hung on the willow-Abel's viol-di-ganiba was purchased, and the house resounded with melodious thirds and fifths from morn to dewy eve!' many an Adagio and many a minuet were begun, but none completed. This was wonderful, as it

} was Abel's own instrument, and therefore ought to, s have produced Abel's own music!

Fortunately, my friend's passion had now a fresh object-Fischer's hautboy—but I do not recollect that, , he deprived Fischer of his instrument: and though he, procured a hautboy, I never heard him make the least attempt on it. Probably his ear was too delicate to VOL. IV.



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