London, was blessed with a numerous offspring; and finding the air of his favourite Bath more congenial to his taste, and better adapted to the education of his family, he has resided many years in that city. His first house was situated in that grand and uniform pile called the Royal Crescent. Those who have seen it cannot have forgot the enchanting view from that lovely spot. It was in the contemplation of the lord of the manor, and proprietor of the ground-rents of the Crescent, to add to his yearly rental by letting those fine fields, immediately before that elegant segment of a circle, into kitchen gardens. Taste, propriety, and health, revolted at the idea, and our Bard was roused to ridicule, and to condemn the avaricious principle that could suggest it, which he happily effected in a beautiful and pointed ode, on an evening view of the Crescent, each stanza ending with "Sir Peter Rivers Grey." Luckily, however, cabbages and turnips were never transplanted to these fields, in consequence of this effusion of our author's pen; they remain in a kind of a lawn, the delight and ornament of that delightful city.

Mr. Anstey was one of the first contributors to the poetic amusement established by the late lamented Lady Miller, at Bath Easton. This institution was at first intended to promote a little innocent mirth and pleasure, but was afterwards productive of more noble ends-the establishing a fund for the benefit of the sick poor of the city. There were, notwithstanding, some malevolent spirits, who loaded the patroness and her associates with unjust and illiberal

abuse,

abuse, and our author discovered, or thought he discovered, the writers of some of these offensive essays in a reverend gentleman, who used to subscribe the names of Regulus, Toby, Cæsar, &c. to them. Irri tated at these unmerited attacks, Mr. Anstey produced a poem called the " Priest Dissected," addressed to the Rev. Mr. This was a most violent philippic against anonymous assassins, with some humour, and a considerable portion of commendable acrimony. The poem has been long scarce, and seldom can a copy of it be procured. The following loyal and spirited compliment to the Monarch is well deserving a place in our collection.

Could I the fragrant garland twine

"Of sweetest flowers that bloom round Virtue's shrine,
"To grace the husband, father, and the man
"Who lives and governs on the Christian plan:
"Pleas'd with mild arts his empire to improve,
"Blest in his dear, and virtuous consort's love:
"Who 'mid the toils of state his hours employs
"On ten sweet pledges of connubial joys,
"And gives to me (who equal numbers share)
"A bright example of connubial care-
"Then would I raise my feeble voice to sing
"My good, my honour'd, and my gracious King.".

As a proof of Mr. Anstey's latinity, he addressed a poem in that language to a lamented and ingenious man-C. W. Bamfylde, Esq. of Hestercombe, in Somersetshire. This was universally esteemed by every scholar capable of appreciating its merit, as a correct, harmonious, and classical composition, büt the subject the fobiles of the fashionable world-was thought unfit for Latin verse, especially as it was. generally addressed to the ladies. In a short time,

however,

however, he made ample amends both to the learned, and unlearned by the publication of" the Election Ball," in the manner of the New Bath Guide. The first edition was printed in the Somersetshire dialect, but it was afterwards altered, and had a rapid sale. It is, perhaps, inferior to the Bath Guide, but it certainly possesses the same vein of original humour.

But this general imitation strengthens the claim of the original inventors, and sinks the others into a servile train, who follow their leaders, as Iulus followed his father. The Bath Guide will remain for ever an incomparably elegant, though light pillar in the temple of Fame, while the temple itself shall endure; and the aspiring herd who have presumed to build on Mr. Anstey's ground, with a few exceptions, amongst which we must notice a poetical Cheltenham Guide, in which the memoirs of the Blunderhead family are continued and concluded, supposed to be a very early production of Dr. Mavor, have already fallen under the weight of their own architecture, and mixt with the dust of things forgotten.

The maniu for buildings of another kind, even to the ruin of the architects, and, in some degree to injuring the beauty of the city, raged so furiously in Bath some years ago, the groves, gardens, prospects and pleasure-grounds fell victims to its wide-spreading folly. Amongst other evils attendant hereupon, Mr. Anstey was deprived of a favourite and beautiful spot of ground, in the cultivation of which he took great pleasure. It was there that our poet passed a considerable share of his time, and where his friends

were

were entertained, and delighted. On being deprived of this charming scene, it was said he determined to leave Bath in disgust; but he worked himself into good humour by the following sharp epigram.

"Ye men of Bath who stately mansions rear,
"To wait for tenants from the devil knows where,
"Would you pursue a plan which cannot fail,
"Erect a mad-house, and enlarge your jail."

This produced a volley of sarcastic censures: the only one worthy of notice, and where the truth was more conspicuous than the poetry, is the following: "When crouds arrive fast, our streets increase,

"And our jail only proves an empty space;

"When health and ease here court the

grave and gay, "Madmen and fools alone will keep away."

The fact is, at that season the houses in Bath were not by any means sufficient for the influx of company, and the doors of the jail were literally thrown open, there not being a single prisoner within the walls. Mr. Anstey was again soon reconciled to the place, and actually purchased several houses in the most eligible situations. He continues to reside there at this favourite spot, enlightening by his acquirements, or enlivening by the brilliancy of his conversation, all the learned and polite circles. His bon-mots are made the subjects of praise, and afford constant mirth to every genteel party. His own bounties are extensive, and his appeals to others have the best effect in opening the tardy purse-strings. He is in every shape benevolence personified, making all around him happy. His sons are bred up to the church, the law, the army, or in some civil department in India.

Mr. John Anstey (a barrister) possesses the legitimate humour of his father, as his poem, called the " Pleader's Guide," strongly evinces. More originality of humour, keenness of satire, a deeper knowledge of the arcana of the profession, were never displayed in any publication. Mr. Anstey is now touching his seventieth year, but, like " a lusty winter, hail though frosty," he shews no marks of decay-his cheeks are florid, and his eye has even now that brilliancy which has seldom shone with superior lustre in any face. In short, Mr. Anstey lives in the enjoyment of a well-acquired fame, a happy competency, a most promising young family, and the best of wives, encircled by as numerous a host of friends as ever graced a patriarchal circle.

The woods of Hestercomb are truly beautiful: a hermitage in them, with the figure of an old witch painted on it, occasioned the following neat compliment from the late Dr. Langhorne.

"O'er BAMFYLDE's woods, by various nature graced,
"A witch presides, but then that WITCH is TASTE.

MR. WILLIAM GIFFORD.

IT was our intention to have inserted a biographical memoir of the author of the Baviad in a preceding volume of this work, when we accidentally obtained information, that Mr. Gifford himself designed to prefix a sketch of his life to a translation of Juvenal, which he was preparing for publication. In conse

quence