poor comfort without a little drap of whiskey now and dan'; and I was laying a plan to run away, and travel through the wildernefs of Kentucky, when the old 'Squire died. I was now once more put up at vendue, and, as good luck would have it, I was bid for by 'Squire Ball. Nobody would bid against him, because my head was grey, my back covered with stripes, and I was lame of the left leg, by the malice of an overfeer, who stuck a pitch-fork into my ham. But 'Squire Ball knowed I was trufty; and though felf praise is no praife, he has not a negur on the plantation that wishes him better than I, or a young man that would work for him with a more willing heart. There is few mafters like the 'Squire. He has allowed me to build a log-houfe, and take in a patch of land, where I I raife corn and water melions. I keep chickens and ducks, turkeys and geefe, and his lady always gives me the price of the Alexander market for my flock. But what's better than all, Master never refufes me a dram; and, with the help of whiskey, I don't doubt but I fhall ferve him these fifteen years to come. Some of his negurs impofe on him: there's Hinton, a mulatto rafcal, that will run him in debt; and there's Let, one of the houfe-girls, who will fuck the eggs, and fwear it was a black fnake. But I never wronged Matter of a cent, and I do the work of Hin ton, of Henry, and Jack, without ever grumbling. I look after the cows, dig in the garden, beat out the flax, curry-comb the riding-nag, cart all the wood, tote the wheat to the mill, and bring all the logs to the schoolhouse. THE WIG, AN OCCASIONAL PAPER, NUMBER II. ." "Twere a concealment "Worfe than a theft-no less than a traducement, AM diverted from my original purpofe by the receipt of the following epiltle, which has reached my hand fince the appearance of my first paper; and as it may afford amusement to fome of my readers, I fhall gratify the vanity of the writer by inferting it as the fubject of this Number. CORIOLANUS. I cannot help faying, that I feel a defire to be ferviceable to the man whose unintentional ingenuity was more particularly inftrumental to the important difcovery which you have so happily made; and as I employ none but the firit artists in the line, I fhall be happy to engage Rennié, as a reward for the great fervice he has rendered to me, inafinuch as (being a peruke-maker, according to the vulgar term) the appearance of your valuable paper may prove highly beneficial to me and the fcientific profeflion to which I have the honour to belong; for I can affure you, that fince the first of December, I have been continually employed in curling, friezing, and twisting, to my confiderable advantage; and I have it Dick's log-hut was not unpleasantly fituated. He had built it near a spring of clear water, and defended it from the fun by an awning of boughs. It was in Mr. Ball's peach-orchard. A cock that never trayed from his cabin ferved him inftead of a time-keeper; and a dog that lay always before his door was an equivalent for a lock. With his cock and his dog Dick lived in the greatest harmony; and notwithstanding the pretenfions of a white man to fuperiority over a black one, neither the cock nor the dog would acknowledge any other matter but Dick. at AT T this time, when the writing of Sonnets has become so fashionable, the following remarks on that species of compofition may, perhaps, be accept able to my readers. I have been favoured with them by a very ingenious friend, who informs me they have been of confiderable fervice to his daughters, for whofe instruction they were originally intended. If they do not convey much useful knowledge, they will, I hope, afford fome amusement, and confequently require no apology for appearing here. ON THE SONNET. Before I attempt to give rules for the conftruction of a Sonnet, it will, I think, be proper to define the term. A Sonnet, then, is a fhort poem of fourteen lines, the rhymes of which are arranged according to certain rules; the two firft ftanzas to have but two rhymes. This we may ftile the mechanifm of a Sonnet; but there are likewise other points which were once confidered as diftinguishing traits of this fpecies of poem. It was thought neceflary for it to convey fome beautiful thought or fentiment, and to be peculiarly harmonious in its numbers and elegant in its expreffions. Both thefe particulars ROSCOMMON. have, however, long been difregarded; and I with it to be understood, that what I am attempting to give, are rules for the conftruction of a modern Sonnet. Every fpecies of literary compofition may be confidered under three different heads, viz. the language, the decora tions, and the fentiment; and under thefe three heads I fhall arrange my remarks on the modern Sonnet. To begin, then, with the language; to which I fhall join the verification: Obfcurity is one effential in the language of a modern Sonnet, In moit other compofitions, we ftrive to write with eafe, and to be perfpicuous; but to excel in the Sonnet, we must act quite the reverfe. Perfpicuity is the greatest defect a Sonnet can poffefs, in the modern opinion; and to avoid it must be the conftant endeavour of thofe who hope to excel. There are two methods of attaining this object; by the ufe of obfolete words, and by unnatural arrangement. An acquaintance with the former may be acquired by the perufal of Chaucer, Spenfer, and the other fathers of English poe try; but I believe modern Sonneteers think this method too tedious, and in general only ftudy the gloffaries, which, indeed, to them prove equally benefi cal. Eftfoons, welkin, whilom, and fuch words, words, have a very ftriking effect, and We confequently meet with them in every modern Sonnet: the other method, of writing obfcure by an unnatural arrangement, requires but a very fmall degree of ingenuity. A few unmeaning, new-coined epithets have likewife been employed, very fuccefffully, to produce this firft-rate beauty of a modern Sonnet. The more harth and incongruous the epithets, the better the effect; and I would recommend the young poet not to be fparing in this fpecies of excellence. With refpect to the verfification, we muft alfo act contrary to what is recommended in the other branches of poetry. Instead of imitating the harmony of Pope, we mut imitate the ruggedness of Donne. Blank verfe has been called profe run mad; and the language of a modern Sonnet may not unaptly be filed, blank verfe run mad. Many people lay it is the most mufical fpecies of poetry, and I have no doubt they would be furprifed at the above remark; but, in my opinion, the mufic. of 2 modern Sonnet, like the mufic of the spheres, is often talked about, but never heard. As a fpecimen of the harmonious verfification which a Sonnet requires, I hall quote the following from Milton, whole opinion of that fpecies of poem feems very much to have coincided with that of modern Sonneteers. Although it has been quoted before on a fimilar occafion, it is fuch an excellent pattern for the young poet to imitate in his numbers, that I think my Effay would not be complete without it. I could produce inftances equal, if not fuperior, from my cotemporaries; but as Milton's works are before me, I fhall not feek farther. SONNET. A book was writ of late, call'd Tetrachordon, And woven clofe, both matter, form, and ftyle, The fubject new: it walk'd the town a-while, Numb'ring good intelle&ts, now feldom por'd on: Cries the ftall reader, blefs me, what a word en A title-page is this! and fome in file End-green. Why is it harder, firs, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galafp? Those rugged names to our like mouths, grow fleck, That would have made Quintilian ftare Thy age, like ours, foul of Sir John Hated not learning worse than toad or When thou taught'ft Cambridge and Modern writers feem much divided in their opinion, whether it is effential that a Sonnet fhould contain a thought or fentiment. Some have fucceeded very well without admitting any; while others who have attempted to convey one have been unfuccefsful. But although modern poets differ as to the abfolute neceffity of a fentiment, they all agree, or at leaft the majority, that it fhould, if admitted, be confined to the laft ftanza, and have not the fmalleft connexion with the reft. In compofing a Sonnet of this fpecies, I know there would be a great difficulty to furmount, if the pret had to form the fentiment in his own mind; but furely there is no neceflity for this, when there are collections of maxims and moral fertences in every bookfeller's fhop! The great art of the poet who nobly ventures to difcard the fentiment as an unneceflary incumbrance, is, to conceal the want, and to contrive his language as if fomething was conveyed when there really is nothing. This is the most difficult to accomplish, and requires much practice. The next point I have to confider is, the decorations of a modern Sonner, which do not confift in apt fimilies or elegant metaphors, but in certain methods of arranging certain terms, lo as to produce a fublime confution. Every modern Sonneteer makes great ufe of the fun, moon, and itars, which the erudite Martinus Scriblerus ftiles "the fubame of nature." Indeed it is furpring the variety of methods in which they can be employed, and yet with feeming novelty. The moon is a particular favourite with this fpecies of bards, which has occafioned fome people to tile them lunatics. All modern Sonnets tell you about Cynthia, Luna, Diana, the pale ob of night, or the ferfuited orb of night, fhining through ib' impersious fhade, trembling up on the wat`ry wajie. gilling with filver sheen the welkin round, or lifning to the hapless lover's E tale. tale. The owl and the nightingale are likewife of great ufe to a modein Sonneteer, and will adait of an equally pleafing variety of defcription. Thus, they may be introduced as amusing the mson with their love-tories, or venting their ferrows amidit the filence of night, each of which expreffions can be varied almoft without end. I thall now conclude these remarks with recommending to the young poet the perufal of the works of and -, who are the first in this way. He fhould alfo ftudy with great attention the treatise ПIEPI BAOOTE, or "Art of Sinking in Poetry," of Martinus Scriblerus; in which he will find every rule neceffary to be obferved in the compofition of modern Sonnets. After this, if he think proper, he may perufe, as inftances of very defective productions, the fmall poems of Mrs. Smith, which, by a ftrange mifnomer, the has entitled Sonnets. By examining them, he will difcover their faults, and learn how to avoid fimilar in bis own compofitions. Although I cannot allow this Lady's poems to be called Sonnets, the muft not be offended; for, as was faid of Pope's Paftorals, if they are not Sonnets, every one must agree they are fomething better. Jan. 16, 1804. HERANIO. SOME ACCOUNT OF HENRY BRACKEN, M.D. LATE OF LANCASTER. WRITTEN IN 1797,, AND NOW FIRST PUBLISHED. UPWARDS of thirty years having now elapfed fince the death of this eminent Surgeon and Phyfician, and nothing biographical having yet been published refpecting him; and being, through the favour of his late widow, furnished with a few materials of that kird, I think it incumbent upon me to lay the fubftance of them before the public, together with fome other particulars of his life which feem to be yet authentically retained in common report. The undertaking, I know, is not without its difficulties. The Doctor was a man who, in his time, attracted a great deal of public notice, and had active enemies, as well as many friends. Hence it will be impoffible to relate his hiftory in fuch a manner as to fatisfy every reader, or to appear in all refrects duly accurate. Perfonal prejudices are early conveyed to de'cendants, and therefore the writer can have only to fay, that in his narrative he has ufed his belt endeavours to relate nothing but what appeared to him to be materially true. HENRY BRACKEN, of whom we are now to freak, was the fon of Henry Bracken, innkeeper in Lancafter; a man of good account, and of a reputable character. His houfe was the third on the north fide of Church-ftreet, above the top of Bridge-lane; the fign, what it ftill continues to be, The Horfe and Farrier; and there the fubject of our narrative was born, in the year 1697 ↑. His claffical education he had at the grammar-fchool in that town, under Mr. Boardley and the Rev. Thomas Holmes; but whether he fignalized himself as a fcholar (as he certainly would as a fpirited and active boy) is not at this distance of time to be learned. When of a proper age, his father was fortunate enough to get him fixed as an apprentice for fix years with Dr. Thomas Worthington, of Wigan; at that time a man of the highest eftimation of any in the North of England, both as a Phyfician and Surgeon. The Doctor foon difcovered the fuperior abilities of his pupil, and he feconded them as particularly with his inftructions; for he was not more eminent for his skill than his induftry; and, to do full juftice to the engagement he had entered into with regard to the young men confided to his tuition, he not only lectured them conftantly on the caufes and cures of the various maladies which occurred in his extenfive practice, but provided a chemical elaboratory for their ufe, and fuperintended and explained to them the nature of their occafional experiments: A moft worthy example, of late I fear but little She alfo gave a parcel of papers and letters refpecting the Doctor to another fried, from which I hoped to have made this account better worthy of perufal; but after his deceafe, it could not be learned what became of them. † He was baptized the 31ft of October. followed! followed! For, from the lowest mechanical trade to the highest profeffion, apprentices feem to be now left almost wholly to themfelves, to gather from mere practice, the ufe of the shop, the desk, and their own ingenuity, all that is enjoined to be taught them in the ftipulations of their indentures. But how very different is this to what is expected from a school-mafter, whofe quarterage for an individual bears but a fmall proportion to the gratuity which arifes from molt ap. prentices where a fee is required at all! And how ought the recollection of these points to lead to a double reformation in our domeftic condu&t! In the tutor's cafe, fcarce an hour of the time of fchool attendance can país without fomething being directed particularly to each pupil for the improvement of his knowledge or his behaviour; which is furely a most important fervice, worthy of imitation in all kinds of tuition, and of which it is to be hoped parents will fhortly become fo fenfible as willingly to reward the early tutors of their children in a man ner futficiently liberal to induce the properly qualified to undertake the talk, and to give them a rank in life far above that into which the fordid. nefs and thoughtleffness of the times have lately sunk them. On his leaving Dr. Worthington, our young pupil went to St. Thomas' Hofpital, in London; and, after continuing there as long as he thought it to his advantage, in order to increase both the range and fcale of his experience, he proceeded to the Hôtel-Dieu, in Paris, where, through the means of the Earl of Stair, our Ambassador then there, he had the French King's letters of licence to be admitted into the Chamber of Midwifery. When he had fatisfied his thirft for profeffional knowledge in these schools, he directed his fteps to Leyden, to study under the illuftri ous Boerhaave, whofe lectures he attended fifteen months; and where his abilities and conduct fo won upon that amiable profeffor, as to gain his friendfhip and efteem; and in proof of which he honoured him with his correfpondence after their feparation; nor did he neglect any other opportunity to give the fulleft teftimony to the abilities and industry of fo hopeful a pupil. When, or from whence, he had his Diploma does not now appear; but most probably he had it from that Univerity. On his return from the Continent he again vifited London; and after a few months' refidence there, through the perfuafion of his friends, he was induced to try his fortune in his native place in the profe lion of phyfic and furgery. Though this was a good deal against his own judgment, (as the town and neighbourhood of Lancaster were then far from poffefing their prefent opulence and number of inhabitants,) and alfo in dire oppofition to the force of a well-known proverb; yet, on the trial, he fucceeded beyond the hopes of his warmest advifers. He was faid to have been particularly fortunate in the whole courfe of his practice; and having at the out-fet performed fome very extraordinary cures in both branches of his art, his name foon became famous all around: and, ere many years had paffed, to great was his popularity, and fo high the general opinion of his abilities, that he acquired a reputation perhaps fuperior to that of his neighbouring mater, and whofe death he had to lament not long after, or about the year 1718. When he was a little fixed in bufinefs, he married Mifs Ann Hopkins, daughter of Mr. Chriftopher Hopkins, of Lancaffer, itationer and bookfeller; a man of extenfive knowledge, great ingenuity, and equal integrity. It deferves, alfo, to be remembered of him, that he was well killed in Greek and Latin and most of the modern languages, and remarkable for having never drank any trong liquors. An anecdote, thewing his loyalty and zeal for the prefent Etablishment, may also merit to be here noticed. In the rebellion of the year 1715, he bought up a quantity of gunpowder in Lancaster, and threw it publickly into a draw-well, then in the market-place, to prevent its falling into the hands of the rebels. On a flight view of this act, it may feem to manifelt more zeal than difcretion; as it was very easy to have rendered the gunpowder useless many ways, without doing a temporary da mage to any thing. But his intent feems to have been, by the fingularity of the deed, to get it strongly reported, See the London Magazine for May 1737, where there is an account of his death and of this fact. E 2 that |