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village would have its Tyrtæus, and the youth of England be zealous to rival, if not to surpass, those of Lacedæmon.

There are poets of another description, who, instead of affecting to legislate for whole nations, or to arouse the energies of a city or an army, are content with the more humble task of contributing to the harmless conviviality of society. It is their wish to add to the relish of the banquet by mirth, to heighten the charms of festivity by jollity, and to give a new zest to wine by entwining the “ rosy bowl” with the emblems of the Lyric Muse.

Anacreon, one of these, appears to have dedicated his hours to love and wine, and no doubt was accustomed to set the table' “ in a roar,” like some of his successors. Such of his compositions as have reached us consist wholly of amatory and bacchanalian odes. To these the subject of this memoir bas added political songs ; a species of poetry in which his precursor does not seem to have indulged. As their pursuits were thas in some measure different, we trust and firmiy believe that their end will not be the same; for although they appear to have both occasionally sacrificed to the jolly god, yet we cannot suppose that the poet of England, like bis precursor of Teos, will ever die by means of a grape stone, or be killed in consequence of indulging too freely in new wine.

Captain Charles Morris, a younger brother of the subject of the foregoing article, and one of the four sons of a captain in the army, was born in London. His father was cut off when he was a boy; and his mother, who survived her husband many years, lived until she had attained the age of ninety-five, and died in 1804.

It has already been mentioned, that no less than three generations of this family have all served in the army, and were by turns officers in the same regiment, of which one of them had the command: To this very regiment (the seventeenth foot) the subject of this memoir, after receiving a preliminary educa. tion under the superintendance of his surviving parent, was also destined, and he accordingly joined it as an Ensign in the company commanded by his brother Thomas. Whether this battalion was in Ire. land or the British colonies at that period we know not; but we are certain that Charles served some time in America, immediately before that war which ended in the independence of the United States.

On his return he obtained a commission in the Royal Irish Dragoons, and finally exchanged into the Horse-Guards * ; where he was the

where he was the contemporary

* An officer of the horse-guards at that period somewhat resembled the mousquetaires of the old monarchy in France, and like them might have exclaimed with Chapelle :

“Nul travail obligé ne gêne mes loisirs ;

Je fais des vers, je bois, je chante;
Je n'ai point à l'hymen asservi mes désirs ;

J'ai vingt mille livres de rente,

Bons amis, maîtresse charmante ;
Est-ce là du bonheur? Sont-ce là des plaisirs?"


of Captain Topham and several others, who, uniting wit with their wine, most fervently invoked the

Goddess fair and free,
In heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And by men heart-easing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two sister Graces more

To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore*. It so happened that early in life Captain Charles Morris got acquainted with a gentleman, now no more, but whose name we shall here conceal. He inherited considerable property, was well educated, possessed a satirical turn of mind, which did not perhaps render him a less pleasing companion, and was not conspicuous for any of the fashionable vices. One failing however, and that too of a very singular kind, marked his character. He was addicted to the writing of anonymous letters, and is said to have commenced this practice with his youth, and to have continued it almost to the day of his death! So powerfully was he propelled by this passion, that notwithstanding it had led him into the most disagreeable and most dangerous predicaments, yet he could not abstain from recurring to it even in respect to his friends. In company with this gentleman, and doubtless unacquainted with his favourite .propensity, Captain Charles Morris took a trip to Baththey went down both bachelors, and returned married men, and married too to widows; the former

* Milton's L'Allegro.

bringing brioging up with him aclergyman's widow with a considerable jointure, and the latter Lady Stanhope, the relict of Sir William Stanhope, a gentleman nearly related to the Chesterfield family. Soon after this his new friend as usual discovered the cloven foot, and they of course parted for ever!

Captain Morris at an early period of life distinguished himself by his devotion to the muses. His father, we have been given to understand, also possessed a poetical turn, and actually composed the popular song of “ Kitty Crowder.”

The first productions of his youngest son, as may be supposed, were of course dedicated to love; but his first political song, we believe, was written at the time of the celebrated coalition, and tended not a little to throw ridicule on the ill-starred alliance between Mr. Fox and Lord North ; on which occasion Mr. Pitt emphatically undertook to forbid “the banns," although he afterwards profsted not a little by the marriage. We are chiefly induced to mention this circumstance, in consequence of its having been lately mentioned as a reproach ; but surely every candid mind must allow that many of the best friends of liberty disapproved of the conduct of " the Man of the People" upon this occasion; while it must be at the same time conceded, that some of his most zealous supporters at this moment were then the bitterest in their reprobation.

Of this species of songs, which were always admirably timed, we shall now proceed to give some specimens. It is not yet forgotten, that the youth


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and sudden elevation of the present Premier at onc
period constituted a very serious objection to the
high official character with which he was invested.
On this occasion a ballad appeared, under the title
of “ Billy's too young to drive us," of which we
prefer to copy the first rather than the last por-

“ If life's a rough journey, as moralists tell,

Englishmen sure make the best on't ;
On this spot of the earth they bade Liberty dwell,

Whilst Slavery holds all the rest on't.
They thought the best solace for labour and care

Was a state independent and free, Sir;
And this thought, tho'a corse that no tyrant can bear,
Is the blessing of you and of me, Sir.

Then while thro' this whirl about journey we reel,
We'll keep unabus'd the best blessing we feel,
And watch ev'ry turn of the politic wheel :

Billy's too young to drive us.


“ The car of Britannia, we all müst allow,

Is ready to crack with its load, Sir;
And wanting the hand of experience, will now

Most surely break down on the road, Sir!
Then must we, poor passengers, quietly wait

To be crush'd by this mischievous spark, Sir,
Who drives a damn'd job in the carriage of state,
And got up like a thief in the dark, Sir?

Then while thro' this,” &c.
The treaty of commerce with Ireland soon after
furnished at once a subject and a title for another
song, beginning with
" Troth, master John Bull, you're a pretty milch cow," &c.

A third,

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