And wandering on with ardour unsubdued,
Symplegades I pass'd, and Euxine rude;
But not fair Hellas, with her southern smile,
Compares with yonder gem-our sea-girt isle.
To me that bay, that crag and inlet deep,
Are old familiar friends, yet still I weep;

For as we journey'd, full of hope and joy,
Death cross'd our cloudless path-we lost our boy!
With aching heart, his beauteous frame I bore
To the wild steppe on bleak Odessa's shore ;
And there, where in the field of death is seen
A small enclosure, with its gate of green,
I laid him down : it was the place of rest

Of friends, who in that land I loved the best.

I look'd into the grave, the snow had drifted there;
Oh! what a winding-sheet for one so fair!
Though from his lips no word our ears could greet,
His glance was language, and his smile was sweet.
When last I saw his tranquil little face,
'Twas nestled in his mother's fond embrace;
So warın, so rosy, cast in such a mould!
Now wreathed in snow, inanimate and cold.
In foreign accents rose the burial hymn ;
My eyes were fill'd-ay to the very brim-
No simple floweret decks that infant's tomb,
Nature denies the daisy there to bloom;
But near the wall a small acacia grows,
Which o'er the grave a transient shadow throws.
No sculptured marble decorates the spot-
Think you that cherub-boy is then forgot?
Oh no! so long as life and sense are ours,
His loss will tinge with gloom our gayest hours;
Tombs must, like man, decay; the foaming wave
May, in some ages hence, that churchyard lave;
Perhaps its mounds invade, and with rude hand
Sweep every trace away, and leave a sand-
Stranger! 'tis for my child these tears I shed;
Our hearts are on the Euxine with the Dead!'"

Towards the close of his life, Lord John Townshend spent much of his time at Brighton, where he was greatly respected, and received many and marked attentions from his late Majesty. He died on the 25th of February 1833, in the seventy-seventh year of his age.

VOL. I.

CHAPTER XVII.

Estimation in which] Brummell was held by Clever Men-The Poet Crabbe's Opinion of him-The Butterfly's Funeral-Brummell the Author of it-Julia Storer-The Beau's Verses on her Child—An Anecdote from the Clubs of London-A Rencontre between Sheridan and Brummell-Sheridan's Fugitive Poetry-Lines Addressed to the Countess of Bessborough-Tom Sheridan-The Loss of the Saldanha Frigate-His Stanzas on the Event-Lines to Julia.

THAT Brummell possessed a refined taste, not merely in dress and manners, but on subjects more worthy of his intellect, is proved by his being admitted on intimate terms to the society of such women as the late Duchesses of Devonshire and Rutland; and men whose pursuits were of a much higher order than those of the idlers of Watier's, or the flaneurs of Bond Street and St. James's. Had he indeed been nothing better than an elegant automaton, he would never have acquired the influence that he decidedly obtained; he would not have enjoyed the society of clever men, neither would they have thought it worth their while to bestow a word upon him, even in their moments of relaxation.-But the reverse was the case: his acquaintance was not limited to men of fashion only; it comprised a great portion of the most intellectual

men of his time, and at what period of our history was there such a constellation of genii?

His acquirements, of which I have already spoken, were sufficient to make him a most delightful accession to any society; his reading, though desultory, was extensive, and therefore he could always, in one way or other, take a respectable, if not a leading part in conversation ;-that he showed admirable tact in adapting it to the taste of those in whose society he might happen to be, appears by the testimony of men very superior to himself. In the Memoirs of the amiable Crabbe, his son observes, that his father, when visiting at Belvoir, "was particularly pleased and amused with the conversation of the celebrated Beau Brummell." The Quarterly Review, also, the MedoPersianic lawgiver of literature, and the grindstone of mental reputations, actually acknowledged that he had talent; though it condemned him severely, and justly, for not having employed it in a more sensible and useful manner.

Of his poetry, the following are specimens. The first, The Butterfly's Funeral, does not, it is true, possess the originality of Roscoe, or Mrs. Dorset, but it is an admirable effort in the same style as their poems, to which Brummell subsequently alludes. Though familiar to, and the delight of every child, these lines have hitherto been published under feigned initials, of which "B," however, was the last letter; but they have never been attributed to him. Mr. John Wallis, who, in 1804, first brought out this trifle, and

printed three thousand copies of it, which were speedily sold, says, in his reply to my inquiry on the subject, "I cannot recollect whether I knew at the time who was the author of The Butterfly's Funeral; it is, however, very likely I may have received it direct from Mr. Brummell, for I knew, and was in the habit of seeing him, and other conspicuous characters about town, at the time I published that poem."

Brummell sent these verses to a lady at Caen, and I subjoin the following extract from the letter that accompanied them. "But to change," he says, speaking of his miseries, "this larmoyant egotistical strain, I will transcribe you some verses that I have omitted in my album-they are not of the gayest subject; but never mind! they were written at the period when The Peacock at Home,' The Butterfly's Ball,2 and other trifling but meritorious poetical things of the same description, were in vogue with all the world in London the Butterfly's Funeral was then commended by good-natured friends, and, as probably you never read it, should you like it, it may meet with the same charitable eulogy from you."

THE BUTTERFLY'S FUNERAL.

"Oh ye! who so lately were blythesome and gay,
At the Butterfly's banquet carousing away;

1 The Peacock at Home was written by Mrs. Dorset, a sister of Charlotte Smith.

* The Butterfly's Ball and Grasshopper's Feast was written by W. Roscoe, Esq., for his children, and set to music by order of their Majesties for the Princess Mary, afterwards Duchess of Gloucester.