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She blush'd---while yet her hand was laid
In his, who watch'd her dawning smile, Her soul's affianc'd, and the maid
'Twixt love and duty paus'd awhile ; Then turn'd to him (not cherish'd less
Though parting from parental ties), And with a blameless tenderness,
She gaz'd with tearful, doting eyes.
For he who held her virgin heart
With her life's pleasures, ne'er to part.
That tender tribute fell unblam'd,
And one by sacred love obtain'd.
By lips, that eloquence would shame,
Of one, who own'd a husband's name. His soothing voice-o-his blameless smile--
At woman's fears, had caught her eye, On childhood's home, she paus'd awhile,
Then shar'd with him her destiny. “ Forgive my tears,” the maiden said,
“ I should not weep when thou art near,” And lifting up her graceful head,
He kiss'd away the pearly tear. Her dark resplendent eyes awhile
She fixed on his,-and vainly strove With blushes to conceal the smile
Those meeting eyes had rais'd to love. Did she regret her bridal hour,
Or wish her heart had ne'er been giv'n? Ah! no, she felt—she own'd the power
Of wedded love (the gift of heav'n); On him she smil'd, who stood confess'd
The guardian of her future bliss, To him, the secrets of her breast
Were wafted in her bridal kiss.
Was sorrow destin'd to impart
A gloom around the nuptial bed?
Was beating to the vows he made ;
That innocence which virtue wears ;
She look'd like spring 'twixt smiles and tears.
C. REMINISCENCES OF RADCLIFFE.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE NATIONAL MAGAZINE.
Sır,---In your fifth number, in my article on St. Clement Danes,
I had occasion to mention Dr. Radcliffe as having been a frequent visitor at the Bull Head Tavern in that parish ; at the same time I spoke of an old life of the doctor which I possessed, and promised some extracts from it at a future time. I had always deemed this little volume a curiosity, and find I was not wrong, or at least not singular, in that idea, from the circumstance, which I did not then know, of its having been noticed in the Retrospective Review, published November 1, 1822 ; or rather its first edition, for the review states it to have been published in 1715, the next year after the doctor died; whereas the copy
possess was printed for E. Curll, at the Dial and Bible, against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet Street, 1717," two years afterwards, and there is much matter in it not noticed by the review.
The character and habits of Dr. Radcliffe are too well known to the literary portion of the public, for much time to he wasted on them; it will be enough to notice a few leading points. At Oxford, he shewed no particular brilliancy or eminence as a scholar, his attention being chiefly directed to useful literature, and such as was most likely to advance him in the profession he had chosen. From the first, he was of a most social and cheerful disposition, and his company was courted by the heads of colleges, even when he was at an age usually looked upon with contempt hy such men; and this quality remained with him to the last. It was by no means an unfrequent occurrence, when he was in the zenith of his practice, to have patients come to him with feigned maladies, but real fees, merely to enjoy the pleasure of his conversation, which, however, was not always the most polished. Sometimes, when he found out that he was imposed on by pretended complaints, he would, notwithstanding the fee, give them what his biographer calls “ biting replies."
His success in his profession was abundant after he came to London, and it appears very deservedly so. For a few years he practised at Oxford, where the old M. D.s were very jealous of him, and threw all sorts of difficulties in his
hut even there he triumphed over them; and before he had been in the Metropolis a year, was in the receipt of more than twenty guineas a day. Of his wealth, which afterwards became very great, he was a liberal dispenser to all who were in want; and at his decease was a most munificent benefactor to University College, Oxford, where he received his education; founding also the celebrated Radcliffe Library.
No man, perhaps, ever cared less than he did for the opinion of the world, and though undoubtedly a free liver, which the fashion of the age perhaps a little excused, yet was his life in all other respects an innocent one. His freedom of speech was such as to offend some
of his patients, especially his royal ones, of whom he had many in his time; but this was an infirmity which no loss of practice could ever wean him from.
purpose to extract nothing from the book I have referred to, that has appeared in the Retrospective Review, or in any
other recent publication that I am aware of. I owe this as well to yourself, as to my own consistency; but it will be easily inferred how much additional matter is likely to be in the edition of Radcliffe's Memoirs, in my possession, when I state that the preface to the first edition is dated April 3, 1715, only five months after the doctor's death, which happened on the 1st of November, 1714, and the second edition did not appear till 1717, a period of time quite likely to enable the collector to glean many additional facts. Indeed the concluding paragraph of the advertisement to the second edition says,
“ As for the udditional letters and speeches that are now inserted, I have so good an opinion of the veracity of my friends who conimunicated them, that I have nothing more to add, but to acknowledge the good offices of those gentlemen who have assisted me in this work, and more especially to two of Dr. Radcliffe's friends, who have taken upon them the trouble of revising and correcting this edition.”
When the doctor came to London in 1684, he settled in Bow Street, Covent Garden, then of course a much pleasanter neighbourhood than at present; and his next door neighbour was as celebrated a man in his way as the doctor---it was Sir Godfrey Kneller, the painter, who had a curious garden, in which the doctor had liberty to walk, an abuse of which led to the well-known anecdote about the doctor's physic, and Sir Godfrey's garden door. In 1691, when the doctor had only been in London about five years, his property had accumulated wonderfully, as well as his practice, the extent of which was such that persons considered themselves fortunate who could find him at leisure to visit a sick friend or relative : it is even stated that Dr. Gibbons, who lived near him, did not get less than 10001. a-year from the refuse of those who could not be attended to by Radcliffe.
At the moment of having written thus far, and in interruption of an anecdote I was about to give illustrative of Dr. Radcliffe's riches, a work, called “ The Gold-headed Cane," was put into my hands; and if I might be allowed to indulge in any thing like a critical remark, I should say that a more meagre matter for 3s. 6d. seldom has passed from the press to the public; and I rather wonder that a man like Murray should lend himself to such a work ; sorry indeed should I be to exchange my old work on Radcliffe, published at 2s. from which all that is relative to him in the “ Gold-headed Cane," appears to have been abstracted, for the latter, although the first fifty-five pages of it is occupied with chat about the doctor. After having said this, your readers need not fear my trespassing on the “ Cane' for matter any more than the Retrospective Review.
I shall now quote the anecdote I was about to do; and it will shew, that in the latter part of the 17th century there existed a cupidity and desire to realize money rapidly, similar to those which have characterised the recent Joint Stock concerns, and with equal disappoint
“ Hitherto the doctor, who had heaped up great wealth, seemed to have met with no unlucky disappointments, either in his practice, or his other worldly affairs; but in the year 1692, fortune resolved to turn her back upon him, and to let him see, that the most prosperous condition of life is to be chequered with some crosses. The doctor, amongst other acquaintance, had contracted a great familiarity with Mr. Thomas Betterton, the famous tragedian, who, for his excellent performances on the stage, was called the English Roscius. Now, this gentleman, who had acquired some riches himself, from the encouragement of his labors, by the solicitations of a friend, Sir
_, father to the wife of Mr. Bowman the player, had deposited 20001. as a venture, in an interloper that was ready to set sail for the East Indies ; and having a prospect of a very good return, was urgent with the doctor likewise to be an adventurer, and prevailed so far, that he very readily laid down 50001. more, not without hopes of increasing that sum three-fold, when the ship should come back again into port. The voyage was accordingly made successful in her outward-bound passage, when having, to avoid the French privateers, in her return home, put into Ireland, and finding no convoy ready, set out for England without one. She was taken by the Marquess de Nesmond, with all her rich equipage, which amounted to more than 120,0001. A loss that broke Mr. Betterton's back, but did not (though very considerable) much affect the doctor: for when the news of this disaster was brought him to the Bull Head Tavern in Clare Market, where he was drinking with several persons of the first rank, and they condoled with him on account of his loss, without baulking his glass, he, with a smiling countenance, desired them to go forward with the healths that were then in vogue, saying, that he had no more to do, but to go up tuo hundred and fifty pair of stairs to make himself whole again.”
Here we get a mention of the Bull Head Tavern, noticed by me before as a St. Clement's reminiscence ; by the bye, this house, though at the present moment shut up, has been recently kept by a man with a classical name at least," Samuel Johnson,"—which is still over the door.
Dr. Gibbons, before-mentioned, supplanted him with the Princess Anne of Denmark, about 1695, which he never forgave; among other instances shewing this feeling, I find the following anecdote in the volume :
“ The son of Mr. John Bancroft, an eminent surgeon, in Russel-street, Coventgarden, was taken ill of an Empyema in the side, which Dr. Gibbons, who was his physician, by mistake, took to be quite a different ailment, and in vain endeavoured to ease him of, by very improper medicaments. Hereupon, Dr. Radcliffe was brought to see the child, who was almost ready to expire, and told the father,' he could do nothing for his preservation, for he was killed to all intents and purposes; but if he bad any thoughts of putting a stone over him, he would help him to an inscription.' Accordingly the child, after being found to die of the disease ahove-named, was interred in Coventgarden church-yard, where a stone is erected, with the figure of a child, laying one hand on his side, and saying, hic dolor, here is my pain ;' and pointing with the other to a death's head, where, 'ibi medicus, there's my physician,' is engraved."
Dr. Radcliffe was a sincere Protestant, and lived in a time when great heart-burnings were felt by many on the score of religion ; and he was much solicited, in 1688, some time before the Bishops were sent to the Tower, by Father Saunders, and another Dominican, to join the Roman Catholic Communion ; the Retrospective Review quotes an admirable letter of his, spurning in the firmest but most friendly manner all their offers and solicitations. But his conduct afterwards, when King James had abdicated, and Protestantism became paramount, to the very man who had principally pressed him to change his faith (a Mr. Obadiah Walker), deserves to immortalize him; for when his tempter was thrown into the most abject distress by the change, he allowed him a handsome competency, while he lived, and after his death, buried him respectfully in St. Pancras church-yard, erecting a monument to his memory. Another anecdote will strongly shew his sense of religion and goodness of heart, and that without the smallest desire on his part to have his good deeds made public.
“ In the year 1704, at a general collection for propagating the gospel in foreign parts, the doctor, unknown to any of the society, settled 501. per annum, payable for ever upon them, under a borrowed name, which had at this time been concealed, had not the trustee, who makes the payment, thought it worthy of being made known, for an incitement to others in the exercise of such acts of goodness and charity. He likewise, in the same year, made a present of 5001. to the late deprived Bishop of Norwich, to be distributed amongst the poor nonjuring clergy, with his desires to have that also kept secret. But his letter being found among the bishop's papers for that purpose, it will be injurious to bis memory, not to let those sufferers know to whose munificence they owed part of their support. It ran thus.
" Bloomsbury-square, July 24, 1704. My Lord.—When I was the last time with you at Hammersmith, you did me the honor to tell me, that I had it in my power to be an assistant to the poor suffering clergy, and that Mr. Shepherd had contributed large sums for that end. No one can be more sensibly touched with their misfortunes than I am; and though I have not abilities equal to the gentleman's before-named, I intend not to fall short of him in my will to do them all possible kind offices. The bills that bear this company, will testify my esteem for them. But as gifts of this nature, if made public, carry a shew of ostentation with them, I must be earnest with you, my good lord, to keep the name of the donor secret. I have nothing more to intreat from you, than the favor of your making choice of the most deserving persons, and believing that I am with all possible sincerity, my lord, your lordship's most obedient and most faithful servant,
JOHN RADCLIFFE. “ Be pleased to limit the number to fifty persons, that they may have 10l. per head."
Indeed, it appears that he did many such acts without giving his name, principally to distressed episcopal clergymen; but it was not only to them he was liberal, almost any friend who was in want shared the bounty of his well furnished purse ; and this phrase cannot be improperly applied, when we find, that in the year 1707, notwithstanding all his liberality, and all his losses, he found himself, upon a rough calculation, worth upwards of 80,0001.; and even the apothecary, who had rode to fortune upon the tide of Dr. Radcliffe's abilities, was possessed at the same time of upwards of 40,000l. This man's name was Dandridge. One very pleasing instance of his kind-heartedness, which I have no where seen noticed as it deserves, relates to his reliering, in the most delicately generous way, a gentleman of the name of Nutley, who, though evidently a gay man, and much the doctor's junior, yet appears to have been much beloved by him, and had he outlived the doctor, would in all probability have been much benefited by his will. The extract I intend making is rather a long one, but I think your readers will thank me for it, as it introduces us to another tavern haunt of Dr. Radcliffe's, the Mitre in Fleet Street, and moreover gives us the names of some of the titled and other friends who frequented it with him ; there is also much good feeling in the doctor's letter to Lord Craven ; and the care about the wine, in the postscript which concludes the extract, is highly characteristic.
“Much about this time, Mr. Nutley, whom we have already mentioned, as one of the doctor's intimate acquaintance, and who, by his free conversation with the best of quality, had plunged himself into some difficulties which he could not easily get rid of, took his circumstances so much at heart, that they flung him into an indisposition which caused him to keep his chamber. This gentleman, it seems, though possessed of