a royal burgh, post, and market town of Scotland, in the county of Haddington, is pleasantly situated on a gentle acclivity rising from the shores of the German Ocean, near the mouth of the Frith of Forth. It consists of one main street, which runs the length of the town, with several others of smaller dimensions which intersect it. The whole has a neat and commodious appearance. Dunbar is a place of considerable antiquity, and, there is reason to believe, was built by the Picts. It originated in a castle, once of great strength and importance as a bulwark for the defence of this route into Scotland, against the invasion of the English. The site of the fortress was well chosen both for defence and convenience. The coast is here bold, and studded with rocky islets along and within the margin of the sea; and these in early times afforded room for the battlemented walls of a fort, which gradually increased by connection with the adjoining land, and with the islets by walls of great strength. It was thus admirably adapted to receive succour by sea, or allow the escape of its keepers with impunity. We find it mentioned as early as the year 856, and subsequently it stands conspicuously prominent in the various conflicts in which Scotland was embroiled. It endured several memorable sieges, the most remarkable of which was that by the English in 1337, when it was defended by a female member of the Douglas family. The place is now a total ruin. The harbour and quay of Dunbar are on a confined plan, and the usual depth of water is scarcely sufficient to float vessels of 250 or 300 tons burden. The main evil of the port arises from the existence of various craggy islets and sunken rocks near the entrance, which renders the navigation somewhat dangerous. Contiguous to the inner parts of the harbour are some large granaries and storehouses, a small graving dock, and other conveniences for shipping, which, however, exists here to a very limited extent. There is a market on Tuesday, and there are two fairs annually. Formerly Dunbar was famous for its herring fishery, but that branch of trade has now almost totally disappeared. The manufactories of the town are a soap-work, an iron-foundery, and a manufactory of steam engines. There is also here some small trade in corn. The most remarkable house in Dunbar is a large plain mansion, situated at the west end of the town, the property and residence of the family of Lauderdale. In 1819 a handsome new church was erected upon the old site, which was founded in the fourteenth century. The new building is in the semi-gothic style, and is internally commodiously and elegantly fitted up. Besides this place of worship, there are two Seceder meeting-houses and a Methodist chapel. There are two public besides several private seminaries of education in the town; and the charitable and other institutions are also extensive. The town is governed by a provost and three bailies, a treasurer, town-clerk, and chamberlain, with fifteen members of council. The annual revenue of the burgh is about £1300. Dunbar lies twenty-eight miles almost due east from Edinburgh. The population, including the country part of the parish, amounted in 1831 to 4735.

WILLIAM**, the most eminent of all the early Scottish poets, appears to have been born about the middle of the fifteenth century. Notwithstanding the high reputation which he enjoyed among his contemporaries, the records of his personal history and character are extremely scanty; and although he belonged to the church, his progress is not to be traced by successive preferments. He describes himself as a native of Lothian. Kennedy represents him as related to the earl of March; but this perhaps is only to be considered as a poetical fiction, introduced for the purpose of heightening his invective. His latest biographer however supposes that he may have been the grandson of Sir Patrick Dunbar of Beill in the county of Haddington, a younger son of George the tenth earl of March. "This Sir Patrick," we are informed, "signalized himself on many occasions, and was one of the hostages for James the First in 1426; and it also appears from an original charter, dated August 10th, 1440, that one of his sons was named William, who in all probability was either..." the father or uncle of the poet. No other person of the same baptismal name can be traced during the whole of that century; and as such names generally run in families, the circumstance of our author's alleged descent from the earls of March, in connection with his own avowal respecting his birth-place, adds some strength to the conjecture of his being the grandson of Sir Patrick Dunbar of Beill. During the present age, the births, marriages, and deaths of persons possessing little property and less distinction may in a great variety of instances be very easily traced; but as the same diurnal records did not exist in the fifteenth century, it is only where names are connected with property, rank, or office, that in most cases we can succeed in an attempt to discover the outlines of private or domestic history. Neither the name nor the surname was uncommon: at that period Scotland certainly contained many Williams and many Dunbars; and if numerous instances of this combination of name and surname have not been detected, it is not difficult to assign a reason.

In the year 1477, William Dunbar of St Salvator's College took the degree of A.B. in the university of St Andrews; and as the statutes required the candidate to be of three years standing, he must have been matriculated in 1474. In 1479 he took the degree of A.M. Whether this was the poet, or another individual of the same name, we have no means of ascertaining; but there is an apparent coincidence in the time; and the supposition that he studied at St Andrews, is highly probable in itself. There is likewise some reason to suppose that he studied in the university of Oxford: "Quod Dunbar at Oxenfurde," is the colophon of one of his poems; and we need scarcely remark that Oxfenford was once the current name of this seat of the Muses. But it is also to be recollected that the poet might visit Oxford in some other capacity than that of a student. In his youth he appears to have been a novice of the order of St Francis. His sentiments with regard to this profession we are enabled to glean from one of his poems; and those sentiments we shall here endeavour to exhibit in plain prose. "Before the dawn of day," says Dunbar, "methought St Francis appeared to me with a religious habit in his hand, and said, go, my servant, clothe thee in these vestments, and renounce the world. But at the sight of him and his habit I was scared like one who sees a ghost. And why art thou terrified at the sight of the holy weed? St Francis, reverence attend thee, and thanks for this intended benefit; but with regard to those garments of which thou art so liberal, it has never entered into my mind to wear them: sweet confessor, take it not in evil part. In holy legends have I heard it alleged that bishops are more frequently canonized than friars; if therefore thou wouldest guide my soul towards heaven, invest me with the robes of a bishop. Had it ever been my fortune to become a friar, the season is now long past: between Berwick and Calais, in every flourishing town of the English dominions, have I made good cheer in the habit of thy order; in friar's weeds have I mounted the pulpit at Denton and Canterbury, in them have I also crossed the sea at Dover, and instructed the inhabitants of Picardy; but this mode of life compelled me to have recourse to many a pious fraud, from the guilt of which no holy water could cleanse me. What had thus appeared to me as St Francis, was a fiend in the likeness of a friar: he vanished away with stench and fiery smoke; methought he carried one end of the house along with him, and I awoke like a wight in perplexity."

From this and some other passages of his works, it is evident that Dunbar had in some degree imbibed the spirit of a reformer; and it is obvious that in all countries which have in any measure been extricated from the superstitions and delusions of the Romish church, the poets have contributed to prepare the way for the theologians. Wit and satire, when thus directed, are formidable weapons; and although ridicule is no test of truth, it has often been found a powerful instrument for exposing inveterate error. The best arguments may be employed in vain; and force commonly interposes in behalf of established opinions: but poets have in all ages claimed and exercised considerable freedom of animadversion; and, as light troops are sometimes more serviceable than the heavy-armed soldiery, the gay satirist is sometimes more successful in his attacks than the learned controversialist. Another inference to be drawn from this poem is equally obvious: as the author had preached in England and France, he must have been familiarly acquainted with the languages of both countries; or, if we suppose him to have preached at Canterbury in his native tongue, we must at least conclude that he spoke French when he instructed the inhabitants of Picardy. His travels are likewise mentioned in Kennedy's Flying, where we must however make some allowance for satirical exaggeration.

Fra Atrik Forrest forth ward to Drumfreiss Thow beggit with ane pardoun in all kirkis, Collaps, crudis, melis, grottis, gyrece, and gelis, And unseelye analysis thow stall stinkis and strikis. Because that Scotland of thy begging ilkis. The schaplus in France so to the west of the field: Thow hes thy clamschellis, and thy burdon keild. Unhonest wayis all, wolroun, that thow wirks.*

one of his invectives against Kennedy, has furnished us with some further information respecting his own adventures.

Or thow durst move thy mynd malitius, Thow saw the saill abone my held updraw; But Eolus full wrold and Neptunus, Mirk and moneless, wes met with wind and war, And mony hundreth myle hyne cowd us blaw. By Holland, Seland, Zetland, and Northway coist, In desert [place] quhair we wer fainest aw; Yit come I hame, fals baind, to lay thy boist.

After the period of his travelling noviciate, Dunbar appears in the character of a court poet, and of a candidate for preferment in the church. On one occasion he speaks of his dancing "in the quenis chaimer."

Than cam in Dunbar the makkar, On all the flure thair was mane frakkar, And thair he daunsit the Dirrye dantoun: He hoppet lyk a fillie wantoun, For haiff of Musgraffe, men tells me; He trippet quibill he tint his pantoun: A mirrear dance mycht na man see.

Than cam in Maistriss Musgraffe; Scho mycht haiff lernit all the laiffe. Quhen I saw sir sa trimlye dance, His guidnesse and his gentlenesse, Then, for his sake, I wisit to be The gryttest erle or dukk in France; A mirrear dance mycht na man see.

But neither his dancing nor his solicitations seem to have procured him any considerable preferment. From the strain of his earlier compositions, it is evident that his first hopes were sufficiently sanguine, and from that of his

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1 Laing's Memoirs of Dunbar, p. 8. 2 Ibid. p. 9. 3 Dunbar's Poems, vol. i. p. 26. 4 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 61.

later compositions, that those hopes had been completely frustrated. "Why shouldst thou," says the desponding poet, "be induced to hope for preferment, when an Italian impostor finds means to thrust himself into the chair of an abbot? How the affairs of the church are managed, I know not; but assuredly its benefices are not distributed with an impartial hand. While some enjoy seven, I am not possessed of one; and some, unworthy as they are to fill a stall, would fain climb to the rank of cardinal, a bishopric being too mean an object for their ambition." He addressed some stanzas to the king when many benefices were vacant; he frequently renewed his petition, and frequently complained that his life was suffered to wear away in fruitless expectation. From the wish which he expresses "To the King, that he war Johne Thomsonsoun Man," it may be inferred that Queen Margaret was anxious to promote his interest: the tenor of his prayer is, that the king were more subservient to the wishes of his consort.

My advocat, bayth fair and swet, The hale rejoicing of my spreet, Wald speid in to my errands than, And ye war anis Johne Thomsonsoun man.

Whether Dunbar's advancement was in any degree retarded by his own imprudence, can only be conjectured. The clergy of that age do not appear to have been generally promoted for their piety or learning; and so very moderate was the ordinary standard of external decency, that it must only have been the most gross and flagrant profligacy that could operate as a disqualification for preferment. It must however be acknowledged that some of his strains are highly reprehensible: his compositions are occasionally tinctured with expressions which we cannot but regard as grossly indecent and profane; one of his addresses to the queen is such as might offend a modern courtezan; the more solemn observances of the church he has converted into topics of ridicule; the litanies are burlesqued in a parody which is not easily to be paralleled for its profanity. But it is more than probable that such indecent levities excited little or no disgust in his contemporaries; the age was not distinguished by any uncommon share of piety, nor had it attained to that degree of refinement which frequently secures a certain ostensible decorum, a decent appearance of virtue, where virtue itself is not to be found. To whatever cause his failure may be attributed, there is reason to suspect that he never obtained a benefice. But we learn from the public records that he was indebted to the king for a regular pension, as well as for occasional grants of money. The register of the privy seal, 15th August 1500, mentions a yearly pension of ten pounds, payable at Whitsuntide and Martinmas, to "Maister William Dunbar for all the days of his life," or until he should be promoted by the king to a benefice of the yearly value of forty pounds or upwards. It appears from the treasurer's accounts that the payment due at Martinmas 1501, was deferred on account of his being then in England; and it has been considered as "probable that he accompanied the ambassadors who were sent to England to conclude the negociations for the king's marriage in October 1501; and that he remained to witness the ceremony of affiancing the princess Margaret, which took place at St Paul's cross, with great solemnity and splendour, on the 25th of January 1502. Under this supposition, we can have little hesitation in believing that Dunbar was the person then styled the Rhymer of Scotland, who received L6, 13s. 4d. in reward from Henry VII. on the 31st of December 1501, and a similar sum on the 7th of January following."1 He speaks of his long and faithful services to the king, and of his having been employed in many foreign countries, in England, Ireland, France, Spain, Italy, and Germany. Mr Laing conjectures, perhaps with sufficient probability, that in these extensive peregrinations he was attached to diplomatic missions, in which his knowledge of Latin and French might be available to persons of higher rank and inferior learning.

On the 17th of March 1504, or, according to our present computation, 1505, Dunbar for the first time said mass in the king's presence; and on that occasion he received a gratuity of seven French crowns, which was a larger sum than the king usually allotted for a priest's first mass. At the term of Martinmas 1507 his pension was encreased to twenty pounds; and on the 26th of August 1510 it was encreased to eighty pounds, to be paid during his life, or until he should be promoted to a benefice of the yearly value of one hundred pounds or upwards. How long he enjoyed this pension, and whether he ever exchanged it for a benefice, no research has yet ascertained. On the 9th of September 1313 the king perished at Flodden-field; and there may be some reason to apprehend that his interest was not unaffected by that fatal event. From one of his poems, written "quhen the Governour past into France," it is evident that he must have survived for several years. John duke of Albany, regent of the kingdom, sailed for France in June 1517, again in October 1522, and finally in May 1524; nor can we safely decide to which of those three voyages the poet refers. It is at least certain that he was dead in the year 1530, when Sir David Lindsay composed his Complaynt of the Papingo.2 He describes himself as having attained to an advanced age; nor does he appear to have been so unwise as to continue his levities to the utmost verge of life; several of his poems are written in a moral and religious strain, not unbecoming an aged priest.

The poems of Dunbar are numerous and miscellaneous, but none of them extends to any considerable length. He evidently unites a brilliant imagination with an elegant taste; nor is he less conspicuous for his skill in the mechanical part of poetry. The elasticity of his mind and the versatility of his talents enabled him to arrive at eminence in different departments of composition: his allegorical poems display a rich and fertile invention; and he is equally distinguished for his powers of description and satirical humour. His diction is often remarkable for its terseness and forcible simplicity; but it is not always free from the vicious and pedantic phraseology with which the English poetry of that period is so deeply infected. Dr Nott observes that Dunbar, "a poet of a rich and lively fancy, and possessing great natural command of language," was nevertheless induced to use such pedantic diction as occurs in the opening of his beautiful moral

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1 Laing's Memoirs of Dunbar, p. 20. 2 "The treasurer's accounts from the 8th of August 1513 (a month previous to the battle of Flodden) to the 25th of January 1515, which might have thrown some light on the subject, have not been preserved; and in those from that date to the 4th of September 1518 (from which time to the 8th of June 1522 there is another blank in the series) there is no mention of Dunbar's name. We cannot therefore discover the date of the last payment of his pension; but although we now lose all trace of his name, it by no means follows that his pension was entirely withdrawn; it might either have been transferred to some other branch of the royal revenue, or the poet might at last have been promoted to a benefice, when consequently his pension would cease." (Laing's Memoirs of Dunbar, p. 34.) The treasurer's accounts, 1st April 1513, mention a payment to Dunbar of so small a sum as forty-two shillings.

3 Lindsay's Works, vol. i. p. 205.

He has employed a great variety of measures; and his versification, when compared with that of his most eminent contemporaries in both kingdoms, will in general appear highly ornamented and poetical.

Mr Ellis, after having quoted three of his shorter poems, subjoins the following remarks: "In these specimens we see much good sense and sound morality, expressed with force and conciseness. This indeed is Dunbar's peculiar excellence. His style, whether grave or humorous, whether simple or ornamented, is always energetic; and though all his compositions cannot be expected to possess equal merit, we seldom find in them a weak or redundant stanza." The accomplished historian of English poetry likewise mentions him with no faint approbation. "I am of opinion," says Mr Warton, "that the imagination of Dunbar is not less suited to satirical than to sublime allegory; and that he is the first poet who has appeared with any degree of spirit in this way since Pierce Plowman. His Thistle and Rose and Goldyn Terge are generally and justly mentioned as his capital works; but the natural complexion of his genius is of the moral and didactic cast." But, subjoins Mr Pinkerton, "this remark must not be taken too strictly. The Goldyn Terge is moral, and so are many of his small pieces; but humour, description, allegory, great poetical genius, and a vast wealth of words, all unite to form the complexon of Dunbar's poetry. He unites in himself, and generally surpasses, the qualities of the chief old English poets; the morals and satire of Langland, Chaucer's humour, poetry, and knowledge of life, the allegory of Gower, the description of Lydgate."

But the most striking proofs of his genius are certainly to be found in his two allegorical poems. The Thrissill and the Rois was composed in celebration of the nuptials of James the Fourth and Margaret Tudor; an event productive of very important consequences to both kingdoms, inasmuch as it ultimately led to that happy union which the nature of the territory and the kindred origin of the people rendered so suitable and so desirable. In the plan of this poem Dunbar displays boldness of invention and beauty of arrangement; and some particular passages are remarkable for their strength and even beauty of colouring. The Goldyn Targe, which is written in a different stanza, is another allegorical poem of nearly equal merit. The golden targe, or the shield of reason, is found an insufficient protection against the assaults of the train of love.

Some of his short poems, of a serious character, are likewise to be distinguished from the ordinary compositions of that period. The stanzas bearing the title of Learning vain without guid Lyfe possess superior merit as a moral descant. His Meditatioun in Wyntr is also to be classed among the best of his serious pieces: some of the stanzas are beautiful and pathetic; and they may all be perused with more than common interest as the solitary musings of neglected genius.

Nor are his satirical less remarkable than his serious productions. His poem entitled the Dance of the sevin Deidly Symnis presents many admirable strokes of comic and grotesque description. On the eve of Lent, the poet falls into a trance, and is presented with a glimpse of heaven and hell. Mahoun, or the devil, proclaims a dance of those wretches who have died without absolution; he commands them to prepare a mummery, and to "kast up ga-mountis" according to the newest French fashion. The seven Deadly Sins immediately present themselves, and are each accompanied by a select band of votaries. Pride is with evident propriety represented as leading the dance, and is dressed in the first fashion of that period: his hair is thrown back, his bonnet is placed on one side of the head, and his gown flows to his heels in ample folds.

Lat se, quoth he, new quha begynnis: With that the fowll sevin Deidly Symnis Begoveth to keip at anis. And first of all in dance was Pryd, With hair wyld back, and bonet on syd, Lyk to mak vaistie wains: And round about him, as a quheill, Hang all in rumpillis to the heill His kethat for the nanis. Mony povyd trumpour with him trippit; Throw skaldand fyre ay as thay skippit, Thay gyrdn with hyddious grans.

This group is succeeded by holy harlots; but Mahoun and the other fiends are not much entertained till a company of priests present their shaven crowns.

Helie harlottis on hawtane wyss Come in with mony sindrie griss, Bot yit luche nevir Mahoun, Quhill priestis come in with hair schevin nekkis: Than all the feydis lewche and maid gekkis, Black-belly and Bawsy-Broun.

Anger, who next makes his appearance, is very forcibly described in a single distich.

Than Yre come in with sturt and stryfe, His hand wes ay upon his knyfe.

He is attended by a band of ruffians, who follow in pairs, all equipped for war; and, as they move along, they frequently wound each other with swords and knives. The train of Anger is followed by that of Envy. He is attended by many a dissembler, flatterer, and back-biter, with "rowaris of fals lesingis;" or whisperers of lies; from whom the poet cannot avoid expressing his regret that the courts of princes are never free. The next prominent figure in the dance is Covetousness, who is accompanied by catives, wretches, usurers, and hoarders of wealth. From their throats they discharge at each other torrents of molten gold; and when this ammunition is exhausted, the fiends replenish them with the same metal.

Nixt him in dans come Cuvatyce, Rule of all evill, and grund of vyce, That evir cowld be content: Cativce, wrechititit eddatis, Hud-pyxis, hurdaris, and gadderaris, All with that warlo went- Out of thair throttis thay schot on udder Het motlin gold me thocht a fudder, As fyre-flawcht maist fervent; Ay as thay tunit thame new up to the thrott Feyndis fild thame new up to the thrott With gold of alkin prent.

Sloth, after being twice called, joins unwillingly in the dance, attended by many suitable companions. He drags

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1 Nott's Dissertation on the State of English Poetry before the Sixteenth Century, p. cxlvii. 2 Ellis's Specimens of the Early English Poets, vol. i. p. 385. 3 Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 109. 4 Pinkerton's List of the Scottish Poets, p. xcv.—"It is evident," says Dr Drake, "that a union of talents of this wide range must necessarily be of rare occurrence; nor can we wonder that a century should elapse before a poet in any high degree approaching the genius of Chaucer made his appearance in our island. Not indeed until Dunbar arose in the sister kingdom, had we another instance of the combination of first-rate abilities for humour and comic painting, with an equally powerful command over the higher regions of fiction and imagination." (Mornings in Spring, vol. ii. p. 4. Lond. 1828, 2 vols. 8vo.) them along with a chain; and Belial lashes them on the loins; but their motion is nevertheless so tardy, that they are occasionally roused by being scorched in fire. The succeeding group consists of Lust and his loathsome train; he snorts like a stallion, is led by Idleness, and is attended by many foul associates who have died in their sins. When they engage in the dance, their visages become as red as the turk's stone. The foul monster Gluttony next presents himself, followed by many a drunkard and prodigal. When they become clamorous for drink, the fiends drench them with melted lead. All these terrific exhibitions might have been expected to satisfy Mahoun himself; but he is nevertheless pleased to close the entertainment with a Highland pageant.

Than cryd Mahoun for a Heleand padyane, Syne ran a feyrd to feche Makfakdyane, Far northward in a make: Be he the correnoch had done schout, Ersche men so gadderly him abowt, In hag grey and thinne case. Thus taragapitie, with tug and tatter, Full loud in Ersche beghowt to clatter, And rowp lyk revin and rake. The devill sa devit wes with thair yell, That in the depest pot of hell He smoric thame with smoke.

Dunbar's tale of "The twa maryit Wemen and the Wedo" presents us with the only specimen of blank verse which the ancient Scottish language affords. The rhythm is of that species which the author of Piers Plowman, or some of his predecessors, borrowed from the Anglo-Saxon poets, and which appears to have derived its origin from a remote era. It was employed by the Icelandic as well as by the Anglo-Saxon poets, and was constructed with some degree of nicety. Their lines are generally short, and they do not rigorously confine themselves to a definite number of syllables. Here alliteration supplies the place of rhyme; the corresponding sounds are at the commencement, not at the termination of words. In two contiguous and connected lines there must be three words beginning with the same letter; and, according to the strictest rule, two of those words ought to occur in the first, and the other ought to begin the second line. It was on such a model that Dunbar and the author of Piers Plowman constructed their verses, though they have not observed all the niceties of their predecessors. In the editions, and indeed in the manuscripts of their respective poems, what is exhibited as a single verse is in reality a distich, and admits of a division without any degree of violence.

This work of Dunbar presents us with a lively though indelicate picture of ancient manners, and is a very curious relic of ancient poetry. Bishop Percy considers it as equal to one of the most humorous productions of Chaucer. The peculiarity of the versification has compelled the author to adopt many uncoth terms; and accordingly the language of this tale is more difficult to be understood, and appears more obsolete, than that of his other poems; but his shrewdness of remark and strength of description shine through the mist of obscure phraseology in which they are sometimes involved. Soon after midnight in a morning of June, the poet walks by a goodly garden, and, on hearing the sound of voices, is induced to look through the lofty hedge, when he perceives three ladies seated in a green arbour, and regaling themselves with wine: he secretly listens to their conversation, of which he professes to give a faithful report. As the wine circulates, they become more communicative, and, at the suggestion of the widow, they successively detail their experience of a married life. The sentiments which they utter, are as profuse as can well be imagined; and it is to be hoped that Dunbar did not intend this as a general representation of the ladies of his own age and nation.

Two of his satirical poems relate to a certain Italian, named John Damian, on whom James the Fourth had bestowed the abbacy of Tungland in Galloway. This adventurer appears to have been an empiric and an impostor, and to have persuaded the king that he had discovered the secret of converting baser metals into gold; nor is it surprising that Dunbar should feel some degree of indignation on seeing high preferment bestowed upon such a person. The abbot having failed to produce the promised gold, made a still more desperate attempt to maintain his reputation as an adept in science and art: he provided himself with a pair of wings, and appointed a particular day for taking his flight from the walls of Stirling castle; when the day arrived, he indeed plunged from the rampart, but instead of mounting in the air, he fell to the ground, and broke his thigh-bone. These anecdotes do not rest on the authority of a satirical poet, for this must commonly be regarded as a very dubious authority; but they are circumstantially related by Bishop Lesley in his history of that reign; and the one account may so far be considered as a confirmation of the other, although the poet has added many particulars of ludicrous exaggeration. Thus, according to Dunbar's dream, he slew a friar in Lombardy, in order to obtain possession of his habit; and having fled to France, he began to practise physic, and in this way committed many new murders. The course of his adventures at length conducted him to Scotland, where he followed his leechcraft with similar success. When raised to the dignity of a prelate, he was not to be seen at mass; he did not appear at matins in his stole and scarf; but was generally to be found in his laboratory, as sooty as a blacksmith.

In leechcraft he was homicide; He wald haf for a nycht to byd, Ane haknay and the hurt mannis hyd, So mckle he was of myans. His irmis was rude as oany rauchtir, Quhar he leit blude it was no lauchtir, Full mony instrumentis for slauchtir Was in his gardylinars. He couth gif cure of laxatif, To gar a wicht horce want his lyf; Quha evir assay wald, man or wyf, Thar hippis yeid hiddly-giddly. His praktikis nevir war put to preif Bot suftand deid, or gret mischieff; He had purgacloun to mak a theft To de without a wedye.

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1 Wormii Literatura Runica, p. 178. Hafnia, 1636, 4to. Olafsen om Nordens gamle Digtekost, dens Grundregler, Versarter, Sprog og Fordragssmaade, S. 57. Kjøbenhavn, 1786, 4to. Rasks Vejledning til det Islandiske eller gamle Nordiske Spræg, S. 211. Kjøbenhavn, 1811, 8vo. Rasks Angelaksisk Sproglehre, S. 106. Stockholm, 1817, 8vo. Hickesi Grammatica Anglo-Saxonica, p. 198-217. Bosworth's Elements of Anglo-Saxon Grammar, p. 215. Conybeare's Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, p. lxxv. Percy's Essay on the Metre of Pierce Plowman's Vision: Reliques, vol. ii. p. 298. Whitaker's Introductory Discourse on P. Plowman, p. xx.

2 Lesseus de Rebus gestis Scotorum, p. 345. Rome, 1578, 4to.—"Eadem tempestate rex (ut hoc quoque, quod vulgo non sine risu barbaeque memoriatur, dicam) Italum quendam, eijus faceto sermone ingenioque delectatus erat, abbatem Tunglandiae creavit." See likewise Lesley's History of Scotland, p. 76. Edinb. 1830, 4to.

3 "Lors que mon frere fut en Escosse, il n'y avoit qu'un medecin, qui estoit medecin de la reyne, et de mon temps en Angleterre, il n'y avoit gueres de medecins. En Escosse un menuisier saignoit, et il y avoit des barbiers qui tondoient seulement." (Scalligera, p. 223.) Unto no mess preisit the prelat, For sound of swerving hall nor skellat; As blak smytha brukit his pelat, For battiring at the stree, Thocht he come hame a newe maid channous, He had dispensit with matinnis cannon; On him come nothir stole nor fannoun, For smoking of the smedye.

His unfortunate flight is afterwards related in a very ludicrous manner. The abbot of Tungland has furnished Dunbar with the subject of another poetical dream, which contains one passage remarkable for the strength of its satirical conception.

He sall ascend as an horrible griphoun, Him melt sal in the air ano sche dragean; Their terrible monstrositie sal togidder thirst, And in the cludis gett the Antichrist, Quhill all the air infek of their payson.

Many of the comic and satirical compositions of Dunbar are valuable memorials of ancient manners; and, if incapable of gratifying the reader of taste, they are at least objects of curiosity to the antiquary. Of this description are the stanzas entitled the Devil's Inquest; which strongly evince that our ancestors were grossly addicted to profane swearing. "It might," as Dr Ogden remarks, "puzzle a philosopher to trace the love of swearing to its original principle, and assign its place in the constitution of man." This vice is now regarded as a characteristic of the vulgar, of those who are truly vulgar in their habits and associations, whatever may be their external circumstances; but during the age of Dunbar, it seems to have been practised by all ranks and denominations. To swear like a Scot, was once a proverbial expression. In this general muster of swearers, the priest takes precedence.

Me thocht as he went throw the way, Ane priest sweirit braid, be God verey, Quhill at the alter ressavit he, Thou art my clerk, the devill can say, Renunce thy God, and cum to me.

Bishop Douglas, who certainly did not fall below the common standard of clerical decorum, has not scrupled to bedeck his compositions with abundance of oaths. The vice of profane swearing at length arrived at so scandalous a height as to require the interference of the legislature, and it was found necessary to extend the penalties to the clergy as well as the laity: by an act of Q. Mary in 1551, a "prelate of kirk," earl, or lord, was to be fined in twelve pence for the first offence committed within the next three months; different penalties were apportioned to different ranks during the first year; and for the fourth offence committed after the expiration of that period, a prelate, earl, or lord was to be banished or imprisoned for the space of a year and a day.

Dunbar has left some examples of a motley species of composition, which at that period was not uncommon, and in which shreds of different languages are fantastically combined. It does not strictly come under the denomination of macaronic poetry, in which Latin are mingled with vernacular words of Latin terminations, and in which the rules of prosody are observed with at least some degree of care. The earliest macaronic poet is sometimes supposed to have been Teofilo Folengo, a Benedictine monk, better known by the name of Merlius Cocatus, who was born near Mantua in the year 1491. Of his Macarons the first edition bears the date of 1518; but during the preceding century a work had appeared under the title of "Typhis Odaxii Patavinii Carmen Macaronicum de Patavinis quibusdam Arte magica delatis." This model was followed by Folengo, and by Antonius Arena, or Antoine de Sablon, a French lawyer; and these two are the most celebrated poets of this fantastic school. Among the Scottish poets they have found a few imitators, particularly Drummond and Dr Geddes. Dunbar has not adhered to the same model; without regarding the rules of prosody, he intermingles Latin with Scottish lines, and produces an effect sufficiently ludicrous. Of this particular mode of composition, much earlier specimens are to be found; and Dante himself has written a canzone which

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1 "I have never been able to discover," says Lord Hailes, "from what cause our ancestors became so monstrously addicted to profane swearing. I remember Tom Brown some where uses, 'swear like a Scotsman,' as a proverbial expression. There certainly must be a tradition on the continent, that the inhabitants of the whole island were apt to swear in common conversation; for in Holland, the children, when they see any British people, say, 'there come the G— dams'; and the Portuguese, when they acquire a smattering of English, say, 'How do you do Jack, G— damn you?'—Queen Elizabeth was a common swearer." (Notes on Ancient Scottish Poems, p. 241.) Of the truth of one of these remarks we find a curious confirmation in the collection of Norman chansons subjoined to the "Vaux-de-Vire d'Olivier Baselin." Caen, 1821, 8vo.

Maudlicte en soyt trestoute la lignye! Ils ont charge l'artellerye sus mer, Force bisquit et chacun ung bydon, Et par la mer jusq'en Bisayaye aller. Pour couronner leur petit roy Godon.

Their little king G— dams was Henry the Sixth, who succeeded his father at a very tender age. The subsequent passage occurs in the works of Cretin, a Norman poet who wrote about the beginning of the sixteenth century. (Les Poesies de Guillaume Cretin, p. 163. Paris, 1723, 8vo.)

Cryant qui vive aux Godons d'Angleterre.

Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland, vol. ii. p. 455. See likewise p. 492.

Dr Good has made the following remarks in reference to the English translators of Plainville's Travels through Italy: "When they tell us that macaronic poetry, which is a mixture of Italian and Latin words, possessing a Latin termination, is so called from its being supposed to resemble (as being a mixture) the Italian maccheroni, these being composed of flour, cheese, and butter—they display a woeful ignorance of the subject they attempt to elucidate. Maccherone in Latin means a blockhead, an ignoramus, or in equivalent English a pudding-pated fellow; and Maccheronico (Maccheronici) are, therefore, burlesque imitations of the unclassical style of such writers." (Memoirs of the Rev. Alexander Geddes, LL.D., p. 256. London, 1803, 8vo.) The style of blockheads must generally be unclassical; but the origin of the term macaronic, as applied to this motley species of composition, is nevertheless very truly explained by the translators. For this explanation we have the authority of Folengo himself, who, in the Apologetica prefixed to his Opus Macaroniconum speaks in the following manner: "Ars ista poëtica nuncupatur ars macaronica, a macaronibus derivata, qui macarones sunt quoddam pulmentum, firima, ensio, botrio compaginatum, grossum, rude, et rusticum; idem macaronesse nil nisi grassedinem, ruditatem, et vocabulazzos debet in se continere." See likewise Menage's Origini della Lingua Italiana, p. 304.

Tiraboschi, Storia della Letteratura Italiana, tom. vii. p. 1460.

Morelli Bibliotheca Pinelliana, tom. ii. p. 456. Tiraboschi, tom. vii. p. 1468. Specimens of Macaronic Poetry, p. xi. Lond. 1831, 8vo. contains a mixture of three languages, Latin, Romance, and Italian. It concludes with the following lines:

Chansons, vos piques ir per tot le mond; Namque locutus sum in lingua trina, Ut gravis mea spina. Si sacia per le mondo, ogn' uomo il senta: Forse pietà n' avrà chi mi tormenta.

Skelton, the contemporary of Dunbar, has occasionally indulged in this vein of humour; and a poem of the same description occurs among the works of Dr Arbuthnot, though it has likewise been attributed to Meston. The following stanza, which forms the conclusion of Dunbar's Testament of Kennedy, may be considered as a sufficient specimen.

I will na priestis for me sing Dies illa, dies irae, Na vit na bellis for me ring, Sicut semper solet fieri; Bot a bag-pipe to play a sprying, Et umum all weesp ante me; In staid of baneis for to bring Quatuor ingenas cervissae, Within the graft to set sic thing In muckle criics justa ne; To be the ferndis, than hardly sing De terra plasmasti me.

The Flying of Dunbar and Kennedy is an extraordinary effort of unrestrained wit; and is at least sufficient to evince that the ancient Scottish tongue was not deficient in terms of abuse. Lord Hailes is inclined to believe that this altercation may have been a mere play of illiberal fancy, without any real quarrel between the antagonists; and this opinion he supposes to be confirmed by the affectionate manner in which Dunbar afterwards speaks of Kennedy, and of Quintin Shaw, who in this literary duel seems to have acted the part of Kennedy's second. A similar altercation was maintained by Luigi Pulci and Matteo Franco: although for the amusement of their readers they loaded each other with the grossest abuse, yet the intimacy of their friendship is said to have continued without interruption. The example of Dunbar and Kennedy was followed by James the Fifth and Sir David Lindsay, and at a later period by Montgomery and Hume. It is not to be imagined that a king and one of his courtiers were engaged in actual hostilities; and in the verses prefixed to the "Flying betwixt Montgomery and Polwart," it is expressly stated that their altercation was not the result of a real quarrel, but of what is there described as generous emulation.

A comic tale, entitled the Freiris of Berwik, and possessing a large fund of genuine humour, seems to have been composed about the period to which our attention is now directed. Mr Pinkerton supposes it to have been written by Dunbar; but this opinion is founded on no historical evidence, nor can the internal evidence of style and manner be considered as very striking or satisfactory. "But this tale," he remarks, "cannot at any rate be above thirteen years later than Dunbar, who must have died about 1525. In 1482, Berwick was wrested from Scotland, and was ever after in the possession of the English. Now this poem speaks of all the monasteries as actually standing and flourishing while it was written; and it is well known that in 1535 Henry VIII. suppressed the lesser monasteries, and in 1539 the greater. It follows that this tale must, at all events, have been written before 1539."

But the poet, whoever he may have been, does not speak of the monasteries of Berwick as actually flourishing; he merely avers, that when the adventures took place, friars of the different orders were not to seek, but were dwelling in the town. It is therefore evident that this chronological argument is by no means satisfactory, and that the tale may have been written after the suppression of the English monasteries.

In the Freiris of Berwik, every reader acquainted with the poems of Allan Ramsay must recognize the original of the Monk and the Miller's Wife; and we will venture to add that the ancient is greatly superior to the modern tale. Ramsay's tale, says Lord Woodhouselee, "would of itself be his passport to immortality, as a comic poet. In this capacity he might enter the lists with Chaucer and Boccaccio, with no great risk of discomfiture. Though far their inferior in acquired address, his native strength was perhaps not widely disproportionate. Of this admirable tale, I conceive he has the merit of the invention; as the story is not to be found in any of the older writers, as Sanchetti, Boccaccio, or in the Cent Novelle antiche. In a few circumstances there is indeed a small resemblance to the 73d of the Cent nouvelles Nouvelles, entitled 'L'Oiseau en la Cage,' which barely affords a presumption that Ramsay may have read that story; but in all the material circumstances, his Monk and the Miller's Wife is original. A story of more festive humour could not have been devised. The characters are sustained with consummate propriety; the manners are true to nature; and poetic justice is most strictly observed in the winding up of the piece." But whatever merit this comic tale may possess, it is evident that the praise of invention does not belong to Ramsay: he had doubtless read the old Scottish tale in Bannatyne's MS. from which he transcribed other poems less capable of arresting his attention. It may scarcely be worth while to remark that the ecclesiastic whom he introduces is a secular, a parish-priest, and is therefore most improperly described as a monk. That the author of the Freiris of Berwik was likewise indebted to some preceding poet, may perhaps be considered as highly probable. In the collection of Le Grand d'Aussy there is a fabliau which exhibits some lineaments of the story. A poor clerk, after having studied at Paris, is returning homeward without any money in his pocket, and, on the approach of night, calls at a solitary house to entreat a lodging; but the farmer's wife very unceremoniously refuses to shelter him during the absence of her husband. As he is leaving the house, he observes a servant bringing some wine in a basket; and at the same time the maid

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1 Opere di Dante Alighieri, tom. iv. p. 342. ed. Venezia, 1796, 4 tom. 4to.—Rodrigo de Valdes, a Jesuit, has written a long and extraordinary poem, containing a mixture of Latin and Spanish, and entitled "Poema heroico Hispano-Latino panegyrico de la Fundacion y Grandezas de la muy noble y leal Ciudad de Lima." Madrid, 1667, 4to. 2 This is an allusion to an ancient sequence, known to many English readers from the translations of Drummond and the earl of Rosecommon. It begins in the following manner:

Dies irae, dies illa Solvet seculum in favilla, Teste David cum Sybilla.

3 The Poems of William Dunbar, with notes, and a memoir of his life, by David Laing; to which are added Poems by Walter Kennedy, and other contemporaries. Edinb., 1833, 2 vols. 8vo.—Of the poems of Dunbar this is the first collective edition that has yet been undertaken; and it is fortunate that the task was reserved for so industrious and so skilful an editor. 4 Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de' Medici, vol. i. p. 252. 5 Ancient Scottish Poems, vol. ii. p. 394. Lond. 1786, 2 vols. 8vo. 6 Woodhouselee's Remarks on the Genius and Writings of Ramsay (p. cvii.) prefixed to his Poems. Lond. 1800, 2 vols. 8vo. places in a cupboard a cake which she has just made, together with a piece of fresh pork which she has taken out of the pot. A priest, wrapped in his cope, soon afterwards passes the clerk in silence, and glides into the house. The wayfaring scholar, overwhelmed with fatigue, and dying of hunger, seats himself by the road-side; there he is found by the farmer, who happens to return sooner than he is expected; and they procure admittance, after the priest has found a place of refuge in the stable, which seems to be the ground-floor under the family-dwelling. While the maid is preparing some refreshment, the labourer proposes that the clerk should either sing a song or tell a story: he declares that he knows neither song nor story, but offers to relate an adventure which happened to him in the morning; and by detailing this supposed adventure, he very dexterously contrives to take his revenge on the farmer's wife. As he was traversing a wood, he saw a numerous herd of swine: some of them were large, others small, some white, others black, in a word, they were of all sizes and of all colours; but above all he admired the leader of this herd; he was fat, shining, plump—in a word, just such another as must have been that, of which Catherine lately took a morsel from the pot. The clerk prosecutes his tale with the same arch simplicity, and contrives to reveal the secret of the wine, the cake, and finally of the priest concealed in the stable. The enraged farmer, having seized a cudgel, chastises his wife; and the priest, anticipating the same discipline, makes an attempt to escape, but is unmercifully beaten, stripped naked, and in this condition turned out of the house, leaving the clerk to enjoy his joke, together with the supper and wine provided for another guest. This is certainly not the identical story of the Freiris of Berwick: several of the incidents are essentially the same, but the comic scene of the pretended conjuration is wanting. Still however the Scottish tale may have been borrowed from some preceding writer. A story not materially different occurs in a French collection published in 1665, and probably in many others: the scene is laid in Granada; the unfortunate gallant is an advocate, and the pretended magician a soldier. This publication is indeed of a recent date; but such a tale is too pungent and characteristic to have been devised by the obscure compiler of the collection; and it is sufficiently probable that this tale and the Freiris of Berwick were both derived from one common source. Many stories, both tragic and humorous, seem to have passed with rapidity from language to language, even at a period when the different nations of Europe are generally supposed to have maintained but little intercourse with each other. In many instances it is by no means easy to account for this speedy transmission; but there were some peculiar circumstances which may be conceived to have had considerable influence; as, for example, pilgrimages to remote countries; the various missions and visitations of the clergy; the extensive journeys of merchants and their attendants; and the associations of people of different nations in the same military service, particularly in the successive crusades. The original stock of materials is much more scanty than is commonly imagined; and the most distinguished writers of tales, whether in prose or verse, have very frequently contented themselves with borrowing the entire skeleton of a story, but from them it still derives its flesh and blood, its life and spirit; for in most instances the chief merit consists in the mode of telling the story, and not in the story itself.

DUNCAN, ADAM, LORD VISCOUNT, an illustrious naval commander, the second son of Alexander Duncan, of Lundie, in the county of Angus, Scotland, by Helen, daughter of Haldane of Glen Eagles, in the county of Perth, was born in the month of July 1731. He received the rudiments of his education at Dundee, which is only about four miles distant from the family residence; and as his elder brother Alexander was designed for the army (in which he died lieutenant-colonel in 1771), Adam appears to have been early intended for the naval service. Accordingly, about the year 1746, he was placed under Captain Haldane, who then commanded the Shoreham frigate, and he remained two or three years with that officer. In 1749 he was entered as midshipman on board the Centurion of fifty guns, which then bore the broad pendant of Commodore Keppel, commander-in-chief on the Mediterranean station. In the beginning of 1755 he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and appointed to the Norwich, a fourth rate, one of the squadron under Keppel, destined to convey to America the transports having on board the land forces commanded by General Braddock. After the embarkation of this armament he was transferred to the Centurion, where he continued until that ship returned to England; when Captain Keppel, who had for a short time commanded the Swiftsure, procured his appointment as second lieutenant of the Torbay seventy-four, to which he himself had just been appointed. Having remained on the home station for three years, he proceeded with the expedition sent against the French settlement of Gorée, on the coast of Africa, and was slightly wounded in the attack of the fort, after which he became first lieutenant of the Torbay, and in this capacity returned to England. His promotion was now rapid. In September 1759 he was raised to the rank of commander; in February 1761 he was advanced to that of post-captain; and having been appointed to the Vaillant, of seventy-four guns, he again became connected in service with his original friend and patron Keppel, who, having received the command of the naval part of the expedition against Belleisle, now hoisted his broad pendant on board the Vaillant. After this affair Captain Duncan accompanied the commodore in the same ship to the attack of the Havana, and commanded the boats in which the troops were landed, the commodore covering the disembarkation. He was afterwards very actively employed in the siege, during which he greatly distinguished himself; and when the town surrendered, he was dispatched to take possession of the Spanish ships in the harbour, being five of seventy and four of sixty guns.

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1 Fabliaux ou Contes du XIIe et du XIIIe Siecle, tom. iv. p. 1 edit. Paris, 1781, 5 tom. 12mo. 2 Les Recreations Françoises; ou nouveau Recueil de Contes à rire; pour servir de divertissement aux melancholiques, et de joyeux entretien dans les cours, les cercles, et les ruelles, part. i. p. 178. A Rouen, chez David Berthelin, dans la Cour du Palais, 1665, 2 part. 8vo.—The compiler, whose name is Nipe, professes to have gleaned from all the ancient and modern books of tales, and to have added new stories of his own invention, “plus capables de faire mourir de rire, que de faire dormir de bout.” 3 A similar incident occurs in Ravenscroft’s London Cuckolds, a Comedy, act ii. sc. ii. Lond. 1683, 4to. In reference to this scene, Langbaine has remarked that “Loveday’s discovering Eugenia’s intrigue, and pretending to conjure for a supper, is borrowed from Les Contes d’Ossuile, part ii. pag. 233.” (Account of the English Dramatick Poets, p. 421. Lond. 1691, 8vo.) 4 The earl of Orford professes to have derived the dreadful plot of his Mysterious Mother from an English tradition, though he afterwards discovered the supposed origin of this tradition in the novels of the queen of Navarre. A similar story, under the title of La mayor Confusion, occurs in the novels of Montalvan. (Successos y Prodigios de Amor, en ocho Novelas exemplares, f 58. Sevilla, 1633, 4to.) The scene is laid in Madrid; and Bishop Taylor has quoted from Comitolas its exact parallel in “a strange and rare case happening in Venice.” (Doctor Dubitantius, or the Rule of Conscience, vol i. p. 118. Lond. 1669, 2 vols. fol.) After the capture of the Havanna, he, in the same capacity as formerly, accompanied Admiral Keppel, who had been appointed to the command on the Jamaica station, and continued with him as captain of the flag-ship until the conclusion of the war, when he returned to England.

On the recommencement of war with France in the year 1778, Captain Duncan was appointed to the Suffolk, of seventy-four guns; but before the end of the year he was removed into the Monarch, of the same rate, which, during the summer of 1779, was employed in the Channel fleet under Sir Charles Hardy, who, owing to the junction of the French and Spanish fleets, was now acting upon the defensive. Towards the close of the same year, the Monarch was one of the ships placed under the orders of Sir George Bridges Rodney, who had received instructions to force his way through all impediments into Gibraltar, and to relieve that fortress, then closely invested by a Spanish army on the land side, whilst it was blockaded on the seaward face by a flotilla sufficiently powerful to oppose the entrance of any ordinary force. In the beginning of 1780, the British fleet, when off Cape St Vincent, fell in with a Spanish squadron under Don Juan de Langara, which had been stationed there to intercept Sir George Rodney, who was supposed to have only a squadron of four sail of the line. On this occasion Captain Duncan carried the Monarch into action before any other ship of the fleet; and the St Augustin, of seventy guns, struck to him, after having been so much disabled that he was obliged to abandon her. In this action the disparity of force was great; the British fleet consisting of nineteen ships of the line, and the Spanish of only eleven ships and two frigates. Of the latter, four were taken, one was blown up, three surrendered, but afterwards got away much damaged, one was reduced almost to a wreck, and two others, together with the frigates, made their escape. Soon after his arrival in England Captain Duncan quitted the Monarch, and remained without employment until the beginning of 1780, when he was appointed to the Blenheim, of ninety guns, and continued in command of this ship during nearly the whole remainder of the war. He was constantly employed with the Channel fleet, then under the command of Earl Howe; and in September 1780, having accompanied his lordship to Gibraltar, he was appointed to lead the larboard division of the centre, or squadron of the commander-in-chief, and greatly distinguished himself in the encounter with the combined fleets of France and Spain, which took place off the entrance of the Straits. Soon after the return of the fleet to England Captain Duncan was removed into the Foudroyant, of eighty-four guns; and on the conclusion of the peace in the spring ensuing he passed into the Edgar, of seventy-four guns, one of the guard ships at Portsmouth, where, as is customary in such cases, he continued in command during the three succeeding years.

This was the last commission which he ever held as captain of a ship. In September 1789 he was promoted to the rank of rear-admiral of the blue, and in September 1790 he was made rear-admiral of the white; in February 1793 he was raised to be vice-admiral of the blue, and in April 1794 he became vice-admiral of the white; in June 1795 he was appointed admiral of the blue; and lastly, in February 1799 he received the rank of admiral of the white. But during all these periods, excepting the two last, the merit of Admiral Duncan, which was never of an obtrusive, bustling, or forward kind, seemed to have been wholly overlooked; and though he frequently solicited employment, his applications proved unavailing; in consequence of which he had it in contemplation to retire altogether from the service. This period of obscurity, however, at length passed away. In February 1795 he received an appointment, constituting him commander-in-chief of the North Seas, that is, from the North Foreland to the Ultima Thule; and he accordingly hoisted his flag on board the Prince George, of ninety-eight guns, at Chatham, but afterwards shifted it to the Venerable, of seventy-four guns, the Prince George being considered too large for the particular quarter in which he was destined to act. Having thus attained the object of his wishes, Admiral Duncan lost no time in proceeding to carry into execution the important trust which had been confided to him; and during the whole time he held the command, he exhibited that inexhaustible patience and unwearied constancy, which, with cool judgment and determined gallantry, formed the great attributes of his professional character. In the midst of many discouragements, and on a station exposed to peculiar dangers from the shoals and sand-banks which cover the coasts of the United Provinces, and the storms with which the North Sea is frequently visited, he never shrunk from the duty which had been assigned him, or failed at any season, however tempestuous, to show his squadron off the coast which it dominated over and insulted.

For more than two years, however, nothing occurred beyond the ordinary routine of such a service; namely, occasional captures, and smart affairs with the coast batteries and the craft which took shelter under their guns. The Dutch trade, however, was nearly annihilated; their merchant-vessels were frequently captured in sight of their own ports; and the whole coast was so completely blockaded that few vessels could venture out to sea, and escape the vigilance of the British fleet or its cruisers. The Batavian fleet, though consisting of five sail of the line, six frigates, and five sloops, was also obliged to remain quietly in port, or to confine itself to short cruises, at times when want of water or provisions compelled the British ships to repair for a few days to their own coasts; and in the beginning of June 1797, it even suffered itself to be blocked up in port, although for several days Admiral Duncan's force was limited to his own ship the Venerable, of seventy-four guns, and the Adamant, of fifty. This was owing to the unhappy and dangerous spirit of mutiny which at that period had infected in succession almost every portion of the British navy. It first broke out amongst the ships at Portsmouth, then extended itself to the fleet at the Nore, and afterwards reached the North-Sea fleet, in which almost every ship hoisted the flag of defiance. At this alarming and unprecedented crisis, the conduct of Admiral Duncan proved him to be equal to the fearful exigencies of the occasion, and perhaps contributed more to the safety and true glory of the country than even his subsequent victory. Although by the secession of the disaffected ships his fleet had been so thinned that, towards the end of May 1797, he found himself at sea with only his own ship and another, he nevertheless proceeded to his usual station off the Texel, where

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1 On the 3d of June 1797, Admiral Duncan having assembled the officers, seamen, and marines of his own ship (the Venerable), addressed them from the quarter-deck as follows:—“My lads, I once more call you together with a sorrowful heart, from what I have lately seen of the disaffection of the fleets; I call it disaffection, for the crews have no grievances. To be deserted by my fleet in the face of our enemies' disaffection which I believe never before happened to a British admiral; nor could I have supposed it. My greatest comfort, under God, is, that I have been supported by the officers, seamen, and marines of this ship; for which, with a heart overflowing with gratitude, I request you to accept my sincere thanks. I flatter myself, much good may result from your example, by bringing those deluded people to a sense of the duty which they owe, not only to their king and country, but to themselves. The there lay at anchor the Dutch fleet of fifteen sail of the line, under the command of Vice-Admiral de Winter; and in order to detain the latter in port until a reinforcement should arrive, he caused repeated signals to be made, as if to the main body of his fleet in the offing; a stratagem which, it was supposed, had the desired effect. At length, about the middle of June, several line-of-battle ships, in detached portions, joined the British admiral, and in a short time thereafter the two fleets were again placed on an equal footing.

But the Venerable having been upwards of eighteen weeks at sea, and during part of that time exposed to boisterous weather, was now in want of almost every description of stores; whilst others of the ships had also suffered by the recent gales, and were besides short of provisions. In these circumstances, the admiral, on the 3d of October, put into Yarmouth roads in order to refit and revictual; having left off the Dutch coast a small squadron of observation under the orders of Captain Trollope of the Russell. But early on the morning of the 9th, the Black Joke hired armed lugger showed herself at the back of Yarmouth sands with the signal for an enemy flying at her mast-head. Immediately all was bustle and preparation, and, by incredible exertions, Admiral Duncan, with eleven sail of the line, was enabled, a little before noon, to weigh and put to sea; directing his course with a fair wind right across to his old station. On the following day, the Powerful, Agincourt, and Isis joined, and on the afternoon of the 11th the advanced ships were near enough to count twenty-two sail of square-rigged vessels at anchor in the Texel. Meanwhile the admiral having received from Captain Trollope information of the course the enemy's fleet was steering, now stood along shore to the southward. At about seven on the morning of the 12th, the Russell, Adamant, and Beaufort were descried in the south-west, bearing at their mast-heads the signal of an enemy in sight to the leeward; and about half-past eight, a strange fleet, consisting of twenty-one ships and four brigs, made its appearance in the quarter pointed out by the signal.

This was the Dutch fleet, under Vice-Admiral de Winter, consisting of four seventy-fours, seven sixty-fours, four fifty gun ships, two forty-four gun frigates, two of thirty-two guns, two corvettes, four brigs, sloops, and two advice-boats, all which had quitted the Texel at ten o'clock in the morning of the 10th, with a light breeze at east and by north. As soon as Admiral de Winter had learned that the British fleet was approaching, he recalled some ships which he had previously detached, and edged away with the wind at north-west, towards Campen-down, the appointed place of rendezvous. At daylight on the 11th, the Dutch fleet was about nine leagues off the village of Scheveningen, in loose order; but on receiving additional information, Admiral de Winter ordered his captains to their respective stations, and, to facilitate the junction of the ships to leeward, stood towards the land. On the Wykerdens bearing east, distant about four leagues, the Dutch fleet hauled to the wind on the starboard tack, and shortly afterwards discovered the British fleet in the north-north-west; upon which it put about, and as soon as a close line was formed, with frigates and other smaller vessels opposite the openings, the Dutch ships throwing their main-top-sails aback, resolutely awaited the approach of the British.

When the Dutch appeared in sight, the British fleet was, owing to the inequality of the ships in point of sailing, in very loose order. To connect the squadron, therefore, and enable the heavy-sailing ships to take their allotted stations, the admiral made the signal to shorten sail, and bring to on the starboard tack; but observing, soon afterwards, that the Dutch ships were drawing fast inshore, and finding there was no time to be lost in making the attack, he made the signals to bear up, break the enemy's line, and engage them to leeward, each ship her opponent, and also for the van to attack the enemy's rear. In his dispatch the admiral states that his signals were obeyed with the greatest promptitude; but it has been asserted that, owing to the thickness of the weather, the signal to pass through the enemy's line and engage him to leeward was not generally understood during the short time it was displayed, and that hence some uncertainty prevailed in the fleet as to the precise mode of attack. In fact, the admiral perceived that if he waited to form line, there would be no action; and, with equal judgment and boldness, he dispensed with this preliminary arrangement, and notwithstanding the still disunited state of the ships, he hurried them into action as fast as possible. The signal above mentioned was replaced by that for close action, which continued flying for an hour and a half, until it was shot away by the enemy. This signal could not possibly be mistaken.

About forty minutes past twelve o'clock (12th October)

British navy has ever been the support of that liberty which has been handed down to us by our ancestors, and which, I trust, we shall maintain to the latest posterity, and that can only be done by unanimity and obedience. The ship's company, and others who have distinguished themselves by their loyalty and good order, deserve to be, and doubtless will be, the favourites of a grateful country; they will also have, from their individual feelings, a comfort which may be lasting, and not like the fleeting and false confidence of those who are removed from their duty. It is often a keen mortification to look into the past, and see how much is desired coming out to meet us. My pride is now humble indeed. My feelings are not easily to be expressed. Our cup has overflowed, and made us wanton. The all-wise Providence has given this check as a warning, and I hope we shall improve by it. On Him, then, let us trust, where our only security can be found. I find there are many good men among us; for my own part, I have had full confidence of all in this ship, and once more beg to express my admiration of your conduct. May God, who has thus far conducted you, continue to do so; and may the British navy, the glory and support of our country, be restored to its wonted splendour, and be not only the bulwark of Britain, but the terror of the world. But this can only be effected by a strict adherence to our duty and obedience; and let us pray that the Almighty God may keep us in the right way of thinking. God bless you all." If this speech has but little to recommend it on the score of rhetoric, it has qualities of a nobler kind to compensate for the want of the graces of diction or oratory: it is indeed affecting and impressive in a very high degree; and it is recorded that, among the crew of the Venerable who listened to it, there was not a dry eye when the good admiral had concluded his address.

The following anecdote, which is told by Admiral Sir Charles Elkins (Naval Battles, p. 236), shows that the instinct of true valour sometimes supplies the place of knowledge, if not of genius. Captain Inglis of the Belliqueux, sixty-four guns, owing either to long absence from active service, or an inaptitude for the subject sometimes apparent in naval officers, had neglected to make himself competently master of the signal-book; and hence, on the morning of the day of battle, when it became necessary to act with promptitude in obedience to the signals, he found himself more puzzled than enlightened by his set, throwing it with contempt upon the deck, he exclaimed in broad Scotch: "Damn me, up wi' the hellen, an' a' into the middle o' 'em." In this manner he bravely anticipated the signal which was provided by Lord Nelson. In his celebrated Memorandum on the conduct of the battle of Trafalgar, observed, that "if a captain should be at a loss, he would not do very wrong if he laid his ship alongside of the enemy." In strict conformity with this doctrine, the Belliqueux was carried by her brave and honest captain into the very thickest of the fight, and got very roughly handled by the van of the enemy. the action commenced, when Vice-Admiral Onslow in the Monarch, which led the advanced or larboard division of the British fleet, cut through the Dutch line between the Haerlem and Jupiter, pouring into each in passing a well-directed broadside; and then leaving the Haerlem to the Powerful, luffed up alongside of the Jupiter, upon which the two ships became warmly engaged. In rounding, the Monarch received the raking fire of the Monnikendam frigate and the Atalanta brig, stationed in the rear or second line. The remaining ships of the larboard division, particularly the Monmouth and Russell, were soon in action with those of the enemy's rear; amongst which the last to surrender was the Jupiter, which had been first engaged. About twenty minutes after the Monarch had passed through the Dutch line, the Venerable, frustrated in her attempt to pass astern of the Vryheid, by the promptness of the States-General in closing up the interval, ran under the stern of the latter, and soon compelled her to bear up; whilst the Triumph, the Venerable's second astern, found immediate employment for the Wassemaer, the second astern of the States-General. In the meanwhile the Venerable had ranged up close on the lee-side of the Vryheid, with which, on the opposite side, the Ardent was also warmly engaged, and, in front, the Bedford, as she cut through the enemy's line astern of the Gelykheid. The Brutus, Leyden, and Mars, not being pressed by opponents, advanced to the assistance of their admiral, and did considerable damage to the Venerable, Ardent, and other ships of the British van. At this time the Hercules, having caught fire on the poop, bore up out of the line, and came drifting near the Venerable to leeward; but although the Dutch crew contrived to extinguish the flames, yet having thrown their powder overboard, they were compelled to surrender their ship to the nearest opponent. The Venerable, which had sustained serious damage, was now obliged to haul off, and to wear round on the starboard tack. As soon as this was observed, the Triumph, which had compelled the Wassemaer to strike her colours, approached to give the finishing blow to the Vryheid, which still persisted in defending herself. At length, from the united fire of the Venerable, Triumph, Ardent, and Director, the three masts of the gallant ship fell over her side, and disabled her starboard guns; upon which the Vryheid dropped out of the line an ungovernable hulk, and then struck her colours. With the surrender of De Winter's ship the action ceased, and the British found themselves in possession of the Vryheid and Jupiter, seventy-fours; Devries, Gelykheid, Haerlem, Hercules, and Wassemaer, sixty-fours; Alkmaar and Delft, fifties; and the frigates Monnikendam and Ambuscade. The victors then hastened to secure their prizes, in order that, before night-fall, they might get clear of the shore.

This battle presented on both sides the singular spectacle of heroic courage and determined perseverance, contrasted with conduct little, if at all, short of downright cowardice or disaffection; and from first to last the opposing forces were, from various causes, pretty nearly equal. Seven Dutch line-of-battle ships quitted the action in order to return home, and nearly as many British seem scarcely to have entered it. The actual combatants, however, maintained the strife with fierce, unflinching valour; and hence the loss on both sides was proportionally severe. That of the British amounted to 203 killed and 622 wounded, while the Dutch had 540 killed and 620 wounded. During the action the latter directed their shot solely at the hulls of their adversaries, and this not until they were so near that scarcely any aim could miss; which accounts for the unusual severity of the loss sustained. On the other hand, the captured ships were all either dismasted outright, or so injured in their masts that most of these fell in the passage home; whilst as to their hulls, they were completely riddled, and only worth bringing into port as trophies of the victory.

If any proof were wanting of the superior efficacy of Admiral Duncan's mode of attack, it would be found, first, in a manly declaration made by the gallant Dutchman, and, secondly, in the practical testimony to its excellence borne by Lord Nelson. "Your not waiting to form a line," said De Winter to Admiral Duncan, "ruined me; if I had got nearer the shore, and you had attacked, I should probably have drawn both fleets on it, and it would have been a victory to me, being on my own coast." And after the battle of the Nile, Nelson, although unacquainted with Lord Duncan, wrote his lordship to tell him how he, Nelson, "had profited by his example." Besides, the British squadron was composed of very indifferent and inadequate ships; many of them having been intended for Indiamen, and otherwise ill conditioned and deficient. Had Lord Duncan's fleet been composed of the same materials as Lord St Vincent's, every Dutch ship would have been taken; and had all the ships imitated the example of their chief, the same result must have followed. Few people are aware of the merits of the chief on that memorable day. When the action ceased, the ships were in nine fathoms water, within five miles of a lee shore, with every appearance of the gale which followed; a situation as critical as it is possible to imagine. And it should also be recollected, that when the Dutch put to sea, the admiral had only been two days in port, after a blockade of nineteen weeks. It was the opinion of Lord Duncan that, upon such occasions, the commander-in-chief should hoist his flag on board of a frigate; and he stated that, if he should ever fight another battle, he would certainly do so. He was often heard to declare that, if his flag had been flying on board of a frigate in this action, not one of the Dutch fleet would have escaped.

No victory was ever more seasonable, none more gratifying to the nation, than that of Camperdown. Politicians beheld in it the annihilation of the marine of Holland, long our most formidable rival on the seas; naval men admired the promptitude, decision, and address displayed by the admiral in approaching to the attack, in circumstances altogether unprecedented; and the people at large were transported with admiration and delight, though they did not very well know why. Hence the honours which were immediately conferred on the admiral received the approbation of all parties. On the 21st of October he was created Lord Viscount Duncan of Camperdown, and Baron Duncan of Lundie, in the county of Angus; his second in command, Vice-Admiral Onslow, was made a baronet; gold medals were struck and presented to the flag officers and captains; and the thanks of parliament were voted to the fleet. A pension of £2,000 per annum was likewise granted to Lord Duncan for his own life, with remainder to the two next heirs of the peerage.

After the victory of Camperdown, Lord Duncan continued to hold the same command until the commencement of 1800, when, being advanced in years, he withdrew from the service, and passed the remainder of his life in retirement, chiefly at his patrimonial residence. At the period of his death, however, which happened on the 4th August 1804, he was, we believe, about to be recalled into active service; and he had signified his determination to obey the call of his country at a season of unexampled difficulty and danger, when his career was terminated for ever by a sudden and fatal illness. In June 1777 he had married Henrietta, daughter of the Right Honourable Robert Dundas, lord president of the Court of Session in Scotland, and father of Lord Viscount Melville; and by this lady he had a large family. Lord Duncan was suc- Lord Duncan was a man as remarkable in appearance as he was distinguished for character and worth. In person he was of a colossal and athletic form, six feet four inches in height, erect in his carriage, and, notwithstanding his great size, graceful in his movements, with a countenance strongly expressive of intelligence and benevolence. In him, singular meekness of disposition, extreme modesty in all that concerned himself, and the most unaffected dignity of mind, were blended with genuine spirit, high professional genius, vigorous and active wisdom, singular alacrity and ability for performing great achievements, and a decided indifference about success, excepting in so far as it might contribute to advance the good of his country. His private character was that of a man most exemplary in all the social relations of life; an affectionate relative, a steady friend, and a pattern of virtue and true piety. Lord Duncan was a most sincere and devout Christian, nor did he ever lose sight of the duties belonging to that character. He encouraged religion by his own practice, and, wherever he held a command, caused the public observance of it to be maintained. Immediately after the victory, which has immortalized his name, was decided, he ordered the crew of his ship to be called together, and, at their head, upon his bended knees, in the presence of the Dutch admiral, who was greatly affected with the scene, he solemnly offered up praise and thanksgiving to the God of battles for having crowned with success the arms of his country. In like manner, when all eyes were upon him, in the cathedral of St Paul's, on the day of general thanksgiving, in December following, his demeanour was so humble and devout, as not only to increase the admiration which his services had otherwise gained him, but to impress on all present a sense of the real dignity as well as importance of religion. In a word, Lord Duncan afforded a conspicuous instance of the truth of the remark, that piety and true courage are naturally allied, and that death loses its terrors to those who have placed their hope beyond it. (Collins's Peerage, by Sir E. Brydges; Naval Chronicle, vol. iv.; Charnock's Biographia Navalis; Chalmers's Biographical Dictionary, art. Duncan; James's Naval History of Great Britain, vol. ii.; Ekin's Naval Battles, p. 231.)