[Picture: Picture of Anna Seward] Anna Seward AND CLASSIC LICHFIELD, BY STAPLETON MARTIN, M. A. AUTHOR OF “_Izaak Walton and his Friends_, ” _etc. _ “As long as the names of Garrick, of Johnson, and of Seward shall endure, Lichfield will live renowned. ”—_Clarke_. “Biography, the most interesting perhaps of every species of composition, loses all its interest with me when the shades and lights of the principal characters are not accurately and faithfully detailed. ” _Extract from a letter of Sir Walter Scott to Anna Seward_. Worcester: PRINTED BY DEIGHTON AND CO. , HIGH STREET. 1909. PREFACE. Literature and music and science have been found this year amazinglyprolific in centenary commemorations of their great exemplars, as aleading article in the “Times, ” for April, 1909, has lately reminded us. Yet the death in 1809 of Anna Seward, who “for many years held a highrank in the annals of British literature, ” to quote the words of SirWalter Scott, has generally passed unnoticed. It is the aim of this bookto resuscitate interest in the poetess, and in the literary circle overwhich she reigned supreme. ANNA SEWARD Anna Seward, a daughter of the Rev. Thomas Seward, destined to become, byuniversal assent, the first poetess of her day in England, was born 12thDecember, 1747. Her mother was Elizabeth, one of the three daughters ofthe Rev. John Hunter (who was in 1704 appointed Head Master of LichfieldGrammar School), by his first wife, Miss Norton, a daughter of EdwardNorton, of Warwick, and sister of the Rev. Thomas Norton, of Warwick. Anna Seward’s parents were married at Newton Regis Church, Warwickshire, in October, 1741. The poetess was born at Eyam in Derbyshire, where herfather was then the Rector. She was baptized Anne, but she generallywrote her name Anna. Her pet name in her own family was “Nancy, ” andalso often “Julia. ” Mr. Seward attained some literary fame, and was co-adjutor to an editionof the works of Beaumont and Fletcher. When Anna Seward was seven yearsold, the family removed to Lichfield, and when she was thirteen theymoved into the Bishop’s Palace, “our pleasant home” as she called it, where she continued to live after her father’s death, and for theremainder of her days. The derivation of the word “Lichfield” has excited a good deal ofcontroversy. In Anna Seward’s time, it was generally thought to mean“the field of dead bodies, ” _cadaverum campus_—from a number of Christianbodies which lay massacred and unburied there, in the persecution raisedby Diocletian. A reference to “Notes and Queries, ” in the Sixth andEighth Series, will show an inquirer that later search throws some doubton such derivation. St. Chad, or Ceadda (669–672) founded the diocese ofLichfield, and was its patron saint. The Cathedral, the Venus of Gothic creation, as now existing, was builtpiecemeal during the 13th and early part of 14th centuries. The presentBishop’s Palace is of stone, and was erected in 1687, by Thomas Wood, whowas Bishop from 1671 to 1692, on the site of the old palace, built byBishop Walter de Langton (1296–1321). The Bishops of Lichfield had apalace at Eccleshall, and this was the one used by these dignitaries downto the time of Bishop George Augustus Selwyn, who, it may be mentioned, was born 5th April, 1809. The latter sold it, and with part of the netproceeds added two ugly wings and an ugly chapel to the palace when hecame to dwell there, in order to make it a centre of religious activityin the diocese. The body of the palace is, however, to this day littlechanged from its state when inhabited by the Sewards. Anna Seward had several sisters, and one brother, all of whom died ininfancy, except her second sister, Sarah. She, almost on the eve ofmarriage in her nineteenth year, to Mr. Porter, brother to Mrs. LucyPorter of Lichfield, and son-in-law to Dr. Samuel Johnson, died in June, 1764. She is described as having been “lovely. ” A stanza in “The Visions, ” an elegy, the first of the poems in AnnaSeward’s “Poetical Works, ” having reference to the sad event, runs thus:— The bridal vestments waited to array, In emblematic white, their duteous maid; But ne’er for them arrived that festal day; Their sweet, crush’d lily low in earth is laid. John Hunter was Samuel Johnson’s schoolmaster, and Johnson declared thathe was very “severe, and wrong-headedly severe. ” He once said, “Mymaster whipt me very well. Without that, sir, I should have donenothing. ” Mrs. Hunter died in July, 1780, aged 66. She had been verybeautiful, from all accounts, insomuch that Dr. Green, afterwards Bishopof Lincoln, and Dr. Newton, afterwards Bishop of Lichfield (“the learnedand lucky pair”) were once, Anna Seward tells us, rivals in theirattachment to her. Miss Honora Sneyd was the youngest daughter of Edward Sneyd, who was theyoungest son of Ralph Sneyd of Bishton, in Staffordshire. She wasadopted by Mr. And Mrs. Seward and brought up by them as one of their ownchildren. Edward Sneyd was a Major of the Royal Horse Guards (blue), and became awidower early in life. The death of his wife was a great affliction, buthis relations and friends, who were numerous, proved eager to take chargeof his daughters. Nothing could have exceeded the kindness and care withwhich Mrs. Seward executed the trust that she had undertaken. Indeed, none could have singled out Honora from Mrs. Seward’s own daughters bythe light of anything in Mrs. Seward’s treatment or conduct. Honora wasvery beautiful and accomplished, and had attracted many admirers, as wellas lovers. Anna Seward relates a whimsical story of an “oddity, ” an“awkward pedantic youth, once resident for a little time at Lichfield, who, when asked how he liked Honora, replied, ‘I could not have conceivedthat she had half the face she has, ’ adding that Honora was finelyrallied about this imputed plenitude of face. The oval elegance of itsdelicate and beauteous contour made the exclamation trebly absurd. ” Buther first real lover was the “ill-fated” Major André. He first metHonora at Buxton, or Matlock, and, falling deeply in love with her, became a frequent visitor at the Palace. He writes, “How am I honouredin Mr. And Mrs. Seward’s attachment to me!” An engagement followed, butthe marriage was prohibited. The reason, it would seem, was that Andréhad not sufficient means to support a wife. André wrote to Honora, “Butoh! my dear Honora! it is for thy sake only I wish for wealth, ” whichwealth, indeed, he called “vile trash” in another of his letters. The story of the young soldier is truly a sad one. In 1780, whileserving in America, André was entrusted with secret negotiations for thebetrayal of West Point to the British forces, but was captured by theAmericans. In spite of his petition that General Washington would “adaptthe mode of death to his feelings as a man of honour, ” he was hanged as aspy at Tappan. General Washington was unable to listen to strong appealsfor clemency, for, though commander of the American armies, his voicecounted but one on the court martial. André was of French descent, andhas been described as high-spirited, accomplished, affectionate andmerry-hearted. Anna Seward tells us that he appeared to her to be“dazzled” by Honora, who estimated highly his talents; but the poetessadds that he did not possess “the reasoning mind” Honora required. In1821 his body was, on the petition of the Duke of York, brought toEngland. “The courtesy and good feeling, ” remarks Dean Stanley of theAmericans, were remarkable. The bier was decorated with garlands andflowers, as it was transported to the ship. On arrival in England theremains were first deposited in the Islip Chapel, and subsequently buriedin the nave of Westminster Abbey, where the funeral service wascelebrated, and where a monument was erected to his memory. Washington, Anna Seward records, did her the honour to charge hisaide-de-camp to assure her that no circumstances of his life had givenhim so much pain as the necessary sacrifice of André’s life. Thomas Day, the author of “Sandford and Merton, ” who spent a good deal ofhis life in hunting for a wife, made love to Honora. She, however, refused to marry him; and small wonder, for the conditions he wished toimpose on her were ridiculously stringent and restrictive, and she, notunnaturally, refused to entertain the prospect of the unqualified controlof a husband over all her actions, implied by his requirements. Later onDay wished to marry Honora’s sister, but she also refused his offer. Itmay be added that he eventually succeeded in marrying a Yorkshire lady, who became devoted to him, and was inconsolable on his death, in 1789, from a kick by a horse. The Earl of Warwick, when Lord George Greville, met Honora at somerace-meeting, and was, we read, much fascinated with her. A ColonelBarry also was her lover, and once stated, “she was the only woman he hadever seriously loved. ” Honora supplied the place of Sarah Seward, after the latter’s death, inAnna Seward’s affections, and numbers of her poems and letters testifyhow ardently the poetess admired and loved her. In 1765 Richard Lovell Edgeworth, the well-known author, visitedLichfield. He had been a wild and gay young man, and had eloped with hisfirst wife, who died in March, 1773. His personal address was“gracefully spirited, and his conversation eloquent. ” He danced andfenced well, was an ingenious mechanic, and invented a plan fortelegraphing, consequent on a desire to know the result of a race atNewmarket. Becoming very intimate with the Sewards, and the addresses hehad made to and for Honora, “after some time being permitted andapproved, ” Edgeworth married her on 17th July, 1773, as his second wife, in the beautiful ladies’ choir in Lichfield Cathedral. Mr. Seward, whohad become a Canon Residentiary of Lichfield Cathedral, performed theceremony, and shed “tears of joy while he pronounced the nuptialbenediction, ” and Anna Seward is recorded to have been really glad to seeHonora united to a man whom she had often thought peculiarly suited toher friend in taste and disposition. Honora died of consumption in 1780, and, in accordance with her dyingwish, Edgeworth married her sister Elizabeth on Christmas Day in the sameyear. Honora, who was buried at King’s Weston, had issue two children. In Anna Seward’s elegy, entitled “Lichfield, ” written in 1781, we read:— “When first this month, stealing from half-blown bowers, Bathed the young cowslip in her sunny showers, Pensive I travell’d, and approach’d the plains, That met the bounds of Severn’s wide domains. As up the hill I rose, from whose green brow The village church o’erlooks the vale below, O! when its rustic form first met my eyes, What wild emotions swell’d the rising sighs! Stretch’d the pain’d heart-strings with the utmost force Grief knows to feel, that knows not dire remorse; For there—yes there, —its narrow porch contains My dear Honora’s cold and pale remains, Whose lavish’d health, in youth, and beauty’s bloom, Sunk to the silence of an early tomb. ” Edgeworth is to be remembered as having been a good Irish landlord; hehad a property at Edgeworthstown. In 1802 Anna Seward wrote, “The stars glimmered in the lake of Weston aswe travelled by its side, but their light did not enable me todistinguish the Church, beneath the floor of whose porch rests themouldered form of my heart—dear Honora, —yet of our approach to thatunrecording, but thrice consecrated spot, my heart felt all the mournfulconsciousness. ” It is not easy to agree with Mr. E. V. Lucas, the author of a veryentertaining book, entitled “A Swan and her Friends” (Methuen & Co. ), when he says, “of Honora’s married life little is known, but she _may_have been very happy, ” for she left a letter, written a few days beforeher death, which cannot easily be construed as applying merely to herdeath-bed state. Here is a paragraph from it:— “I have every blessing, and I am happy. The conversation of my beloved husband, when my breath will let me have it, is my greatest delight, he procures me every comfort, and as he always said he thought he should, contrives for me everything that can ease and quiet my weakness. ” “Like a kind angel whispers peace, And smooths the bed of death. ” Her husband records that she was the most beloved as a wife, a sister, and a friend, of any person he had ever known. Each member of her ownfamily, unanimously, almost intuitively, preferred her. Anne Hunter, the eldest sister of Mrs. Seward, married a few days beforeher, viz. , in October, 1741, at Newton Regis Church, the Rev. SamuelMartin, the Rector, who was formerly a Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. He afterwards became the Rector of Gotham, Notts. , where he remained for27 years, until his death, in 1775. In a letter dated 23rd June, 1764, written from Gotham, while visiting “her excellent Uncle and AuntMartin, ” as she styled them, soon after the death of Sarah Seward, AnnaSeward says, “pious tranquility broods over the kind and hospitablemansion, and the balms of sympathy and the cordials of devotion are herepoured into our torn hearts, ” and “my cousin, Miss Martin, is of mysister’s age, and was deservedly beloved by her above all her othercompanions next to myself and Honora. ” It was Dr. Erasmus Darwin (grandfather of Charles Robert Darwin, thenaturalist, who died in 1882, author of the “Origin of the Species”) whofirst discovered Anna Seward as a poetess. Happening to peruse someverses apparently written by her, he took an opportunity of calling atthe Palace when Anna Seward was alone, and satisfied himself that shecould write good poetry unaided, and that her literary abilities were ofno common kind. Dr. Darwin (who was a native of Nottinghamshire) in either the year 1756or 1757, arrived in Lichfield to practise as a Physician there, where heresided until 1781. Darwin was a “votary to poetry, ” a philosopher, anda clever though an eccentric man. He wrote “The Botanic Garden, ” whichAnna Seward pronounced to be “a string of poetic brilliants, ” and inwhich book Horace Walpole noted a passage “the most sublime in any authoror in any of the few languages with which I am acquainted. ” He insertedin it, as his own work, some lines of Anna Seward’s, —which was ungallant, to say the least. Anna Seward’s mother repressed her early attempts atpoetry, so for a time she contented herself with reading “our finestpoets, ” and with “voluminous correspondence. ” On her mother’s death, being free to exercise her poetical powers, she forthwith produced odes, sonnets, songs, epitaphs, epilogues, and elegies, in profusion. Anna Seward visited Bath, and her introduction into the literary “world”was made by Anna, Lady Miller, a verse writer of some fame, whoinstituted a literary salon at Bath-Easton, during the Bath season. Anantique vase, which had been dug up in Italy in 1759, was placed on amodern altar decorated with laurel, each guest being invited to place inthe urn an original composition in verse. When it was determined whichwere the best three productions, their authors were crowned by LadyMiller with wreaths of myrtle. Lady Miller died in 1781, and a handsomemonument in the Abbey at Bath marks the spot where she was buried. It isstated in the D. N. B. That the urn, after her death, was set up in thepublic park in Bath. Fanny Burney met Lady Miller, whom she describes with her usual candour:“Lady Miller is a round, plump, coarse-looking dame of about forty, andwhile all her aim is to appear an elegant woman of fashion, all hersuccess is to seem an ordinary woman in very common life, with fineclothes on. Her habits are bustling, her air is mock-important, and hermanners very inelegant. ” Once a year the most ingenious of the vase effusions was published, thenet profits being applied to some Bath charity. Four volumes of thecompositions appeared. The prize poem was written several times by AnnaSeward, and on one occasion was awarded for her monody on the death ofDavid Garrick. Macaulay says, in his essay on Madame D’Arblay, that Lady Miller kept avase “wherein fools were wont to put bad verses. ” Dr. Johnson also said, when Boswell named a gentleman of his acquaintance who wrote for thevase, “He was a blockhead for his pains”; on the other hand, when toldthat the Duchess of Northumberland wrote, Johnson said, “Sir, the Duchessof Northumberland may do what she pleases: nobody will say anything to alady of her high rank. ” Remembering who were ranked among thecontributors to the “Saloon of the Minervas, ” these criticisms seemrather absurd, for “Bright glows the list with many an honour’d name. ” Christopher Anstey, a fellow of King’s College, Cambridge, remembered ashaving written the “New Bath Guide, ” and as having been deemed worthy acenotaph in Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey, and William Hayley, appear to have been among the best-known to fame at “the fanciful andromantic institution at Bath-Easton. ” The latter was a friend of Cowper, Romney and Southey, and published the lives of the two former. In“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, ” occur these lines:— “Triumphant first see Temper’s Triumph shine, At least I’m sure they triumphed over mine. Of ‘Music’s Triumphs’ all who read may swear That luckless music never triumphed there. ” The poems “Triumphs of Temper” (1781) and “Triumphs of Music” (1804) wereHayley’s chief productions. He was the most ardent of all of those whopaid their homage to Anna Seward. Mr. Lucas informs us that DavidGarrick appears also in the list. To the foregoing names may be addedEdward Jerningham, the friend of Chesterfield and Horace Walpole, adramatist as well as a poet; George Butt, the divine, and chaplain toGeorge III. ; William Crowe, “the new star, ” as Anna Seward calls him, adivine and public orator at Oxford; and Richard Graves, a poet andnovelist, the Rector of Claverton, who wrote “Recollections of Shenstone”in 1788. These, and Thomas Sedgwick Whalley, were perhaps the mostlearned of the vase group. The latter, Fanny Burney says, was one of itsbest supporters. He was a Prebendary of Wells Cathedral, andcorresponded a good deal with Anna Seward. Wilberforce’s description ofhim is worth recalling, viz. , “the true picture of a sensible, well-informed and educated, polished, old, well-beneficed, nobleman’s andgentleman’s house-frequenting, literary and chess-playing divine. ” Anna Seward’s “Elegy on Captain Cook, ” and her “Monody on Major André, ”were contributed to the Vase, and immediately brought her into greatrepute. Anna Seward made friends with, and had a great admiration for, thecelebrated recluses, “the ladies of Llangollen Vale, ”—Lady Eleanor Butlerand Miss Sarah Ponsonby. They were so called because when they arrivedtheir names were unknown. It is said that they never left their home for50 years, and were so absolutely devoted as to be inseparable from eachother. They adopted a semi-masculine attire. These curiousladies, —“extraordinary women, ”—are described as ladies of genius, tasteand knowledge—who were “sought by the first characters of the age, bothas to rank and talents. ” She kept up a considerable correspondence with both of them. Their houseat Plas Newydd is described minutely and at great length in one of herletters. It is still standing, and continues to be visited by scores oftourists. Lady Eleanor Butler died in 1829, and Miss Sarah Ponsonby in1831. One of Anna Seward’s poems is entitled “Llangollen Vale, ” and wasinscribed to these ladies, as likewise were some more of her verses. In 1782 Anna Seward produced “Louisa, ” a poetical novel in four epistles. It ran through five editions. She says that she received the highestencomiums upon the poem “by the first literary characters of the age. ”It is now rarely read. However, the writer of an article in “The Lady’sMonthly Museum” for March, 1799, vol. 2, wrote that, “the story, thoughinteresting enough, is but a secondary object. It is told in strains, which, for energy, voluptuousness, and dignity of description, are rarelyfound in our language. ” The writer further states that “our readers willbe amply gratified by a perusal of the whole poem, which is everywhereequally replete with genius and taste, happy invention, and a luxury ofglowing description. ” She found another writer of the time ready to defend her against areviewer who had brought a charge of “accumulating in her dramaticcharacters glaring metaphors, ” and of aiming “to dazzle by superfluity ofornaments. ” In 1790 Canon Seward died. He was deeply beloved by his daughter, whomost dutifully nursed him for some ten years before his death. Twelve years later Dr. Darwin died suddenly, in the very act of writing aletter to Richard Lovell Edgeworth; and in 1804 Anna Seward published abiographical Memoir of Darwin, in reference to which Sir Walter Scottwrote, “he could not have wished his fame and character entrusted to apen more capable of doing them ample and, above all, discriminatingjustice. ” She called Darwin her “bright luminary. ” On his death shewrote thus:—“His extinction is universally lamented, from the mostoperative cause of regret; and while disease may no longer turn the eyesof hope upon his rescuing and restoring skill, the poetic fanes lose asplendid source of ornament; philosophic science, an ingenious and daringdictator; and medicinal art, a pillar of transcendent strength. ” TheMemoir she called, “The woman’s mite in biography. ” This book, notwithstanding Sir Walter Scott’s praise, is, nowadays, considered but apoor piece of writing. The Lichfield literary circle in Anna Seward’s time included many learnedpeople, for, besides Dr. Darwin, Richard Lovell Edgeworth, and ThomasDay, may be mentioned the two Canons of the Cathedral—Archdeacon Vyse andCanon Sneyd Davies, a poet; the Rev. William Robinson (nicknamed “TheRector” amongst his friends), a great wit, one who could “set the tablein a roar”; Sir Brooke Boothby, a poet and politician; her cousin, theRev. Henry White{20}, Sacrist of Lichfield Cathedral (who married Lucy, the daughter ofthe Rev. John Hunter by his second wife); and sometimes Dr. Johnson, buthis presence was not much appreciated. “There was, ” wrote Sir WalterScott, “some aristocratic prejudice in their dislike, for the despoticmanners of Dr. Johnson were least likely to be tolerated when the lownessof his origin was in fresh recollection. ” How came Anna Seward to dominate and reign as the Queen over the literarysociety in Lichfield? The great “magnetic” power she must have possessedaccounts to a large extent for the popular adulation bestowed upon her. Still, the circumstances of her residence in the Episcopal Palace, andher being by birth a lady and endowed with a certain amount of wealth, added to an attractive presence, must have greatly helped her to attainthe position. Anna Seward certainly hated, and hated venomously, Dr. Johnson, who wasafraid of her, and he, she says, “hated me. ” She could not endure hismannerisms, but mimicked his gestures and curious demeanours; calling him“a despot, ” “the old literary Colossus, ” an “envious calumniator, ” “surlySamuel Johnson, ” “the massive Being, ” “the old elephant, ” and “agrowler. ” In 1787, Anna Seward tells us, she became acquainted with Mr. And Mrs. Piozzi (formerly Mrs. Thrale), and on the latter’s publication ofJohnson’s letters, she writes:—“Greatly as I admired Johnson’s talentsand revered his knowledge, and formidable as I felt the powers to be ofhis witty sophistry, yet did a certain quickness of spirit, and zeal forthe reputation of my favourite authors, irresistibly urge me to defendthem against his spleenful injustice—a temerity, which I was well awaremade him dislike me, notwithstanding the coaxing regard he alwaysexpressed for me on his first salutations on returning to Lichfield. ”Again, in other letters, she says:—. . . “I have had frequentopportunities of conversing with that wonderful man (Dr. Johnson). Seldom did I listen to him without admiring the great powers of his mind, and feeling concern and pain at the malignance of his disposition. Hewould sometimes be just to the virtues and literary fame of others, ifthey had not been praised in the conversation before his opinion wasasked—if they had been previously praised, never. ” . . . “What right had a man who wrote a play for the stage, to avow contemptfor the theatric profession”? she wrote, when referring to Johnson’s envyof David Garrick. Boswell admitted, when he visited Anna Seward, in1785, at Lichfield, that Johnson was “galled by Garrick’s prosperity. ” . . . “Who can think Johnson’s heart a good one? In the course of manyyears’ personal acquaintance with him, I never knew a single instance inwhich the praise (from another’s lip) of any human being, excepting thatof Mrs. Thrale, was not a caustic on his spirit; and this, whether theirvirtues or abilities were the subject of encomium. ” His opinions ofpoetry were, she thought, “so absurd and inconsistent with each other, that, though almost any of his dogmas may be clearly and easilyconfronted, yet the attempt is but combating an hydra-headed monster . . . Johnson’s ‘Lives of the Poets, ’ and all the records of his own lifeand conversation, prove that envy did deeply stain his spirit. To yourquestion, ‘Whom could Johnson envy’? I answer, all his superiors ingenius, all his equals; in short, at times, every celebrated author, living or dead . . . I cannot help feeling that he has superiors, andthat in a very large degree, though they will not be found amongst ouressayists, where I acknowledge his pre-eminence. Johnson was a verybright star, yet to Shakespeare and Milton, he was but as a star to thesun . . . Gray was indolent, and wrote but little; yet that little proveshim the first genius of the period in which he lived. I have beenassured that he had more learning than Johnson, and he certainly was avery superior poet. Johnson felt the superiority, and for that he hatedhim. . . . Johnson’s first ambition was to be distinguished as a poet, and as a poet he was first celebrated. His fine satire, ‘London, ’ hadconsiderable reputation; yet it neither eclipsed, nor had power toeclipse, the satires of Pope. ” The account she has given of Johnson’s last days and hours differs verywidely from Macaulay’s version, who states that, “when at length themoment, dreaded through so many years, came close, the dark cloud passedaway from Johnson’s mind. His temper became unusually patient andgentle; he ceased to think with terror of death, and that which liesbeyond death; he spake much of the mercy of God and of the propitiationof Christ. ” In a letter written by Anna Seward to T. S. Whalley, datedNovember 7th, 1784, she said, “The extinction, in our sphere, of thatmighty spirit, approaches fast. A confirmed dropsy deluges the vitalsource. It is melancholy to observe with what terror he contemplates hisapproaching fate. ” In a letter to Mrs. Knowles (the wife of Dr. Knowles, an eminent physician in London, and in her younger days a well-knownStaffordshire beauty), dated March 27th, 1785, Anna Seward says, “O, yes, as you observe, dreadful were the horrors which attended poor Johnson’sdying state. His religion was certainly not of that nature which shedscomfort on a death-bed pillow. I believe his faith was sincere, andtherefore could not fail to reproach his heart, which had swelled withpride, envy, and hatred, through the whole course of his existence. Butreligious feeling, on which you lay so great stress, was not thedesideratum in Johnson’s virtue. ” The reader must decide for himselfwhich of these two contradictory accounts he will believe. It may beremarked that she was in “the almost daily habit of contemplating hisdying, ” which she describes as “a very melancholy spectacle. ” Sheinforms us that it was at Johnson’s repeatedly expressed desire that sheoften visited him. * * * * * In a letter written in 1785, to James Boswell, Anna Seward said that sheregretted it was not in her power to collect more anecdotes of Dr. Johnson’s infancy. “My mother passed her days of girlhood with an uncleat Warwick, consequently, was absent from home in the school-boy days ofthe great man; neither did I ever hear her mention any of the promissorysparkles which, doubtless, burst forth, though no records of them arewithin my knowledge. I cannot meet with any contemporary of those, his_very_ youthful days. . . . Adieu, sir, go on and prosper in your arduoustask of presenting to the world the portrait of Johnson’s mind andmanners. If faithful, brilliant will be its lights, but deep itsshades. ” Anna Seward seems to have known everybody worth knowing, and she met manycelebrities of her day, —not only at Lichfield, but when she visitedBuxton and Harrogate, as she sometimes did, for the Baths. Writing fromBuxton in 1796 to Mr. Saville, she said, “my acquaintance here seem toset a far higher value on my talents and conversation, such as they are, than the Lichfieldiens; but it is more than probable that novelty is thecause of this so much more appreciating attention”; and, further on, sheadds that she had conversed with William Wilberforce, the philanthropist, “who disappoints no expectation his imputed eloquence has excited”; andalso with the luminous and resistless Lord Chancellor, Thomas Erskine, “whose every sentence is oratory, whose form is graceful, whose voice ismusic, and whose eye lightens as he speaks. ” She corresponded with Dr. William Lort Mansel, when he was Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, in1798, who was well known as a wit, and writer of epigrams, and to whomshe was introduced by her cousin, H. White, at Lichfield. In a letterwritten in 1806, she said that “the animated attention with which hehonoured me, the praise he lavished on my poems, and the passages hequoted from them, constituted one of the most poignant literarygratifications I ever received. The hope that they may live, is attachedto the demonstrated impression they had made on a mind of suchdistinguished classical endowment. ” Further on, she said that he oftenexclaimed, “Lichfield is, indeed, classic ground of peculiardistinction. ” In a letter dated March 5th, 1789, written from Lichfield by Anna Seward, she said, “I was honoured and blest by a two hours personal conversationwith the most distinguished excellence that ever walked the earth, sincesaints and angels left off paying us morning visits. To say that hisname is Howard would be superfluous. This is the third time he hasfavoured me with his conversation on his way through this town. I amtruly glad of our King’s recovery, but yet I should not walk half so tallupon a visit from him. Mr. Howard presented me with his new publication, and had previously given me the former. ” The Poet Laureate in 1785 was Thomas Warton, and she corresponded withhim, “our great Laureate, ” as she called him. Miss Mitford has described Anna Seward as “all tinkling and tinsel—a sortof Dr. Darwin in petticoats. ” Edgeworth described her as “a handsomewoman of agreeable manners, she was generous, possessed of good sense, and capable of strong affection”; and Sir Walter Scott thought that shemust have been, “when young, exquisitely beautiful; for, in advanced age, the regularity of her features, the fire and expression of hercountenance, gave her the appearance of beauty, and almost of youth. Hereyes were auburn, of the precise shade and hue of her hair, and possessedgreat expression. In reciting, or in speaking with animation, theyappeared to become darker, and, as it were, to flash fire. . . . Hervoice was melodious, guided by excellent taste, and well suited toreading and recitation, in which she willingly exercised it. ” An accident to her knee in her youth prevented her from riding, which, had she been able to do, she thought she would have enjoyed. She did not care for “eternal card-parties, ” and considered thecard-table “an annihilator of ideas. ” She had a passionate love forscenery, especially for mountain scenery, and in general for thepleasures of landscape. Her estimates of many of the poets born in her lifetime appear in herletters, but most of their poetry was only read during their respectivelives, and for a few years after, and theirs, like her own productions, are little known to readers of this age, though it appears that she hopedher works would be read for a long time after her death. She wrote, “Ifmy poems are of that common order which have, as Falstaff says, a naturalalacrity in sinking, the praise of hireling and nameless critics wouldnot keep them above the gulf of oblivion. If, on the contrary, theypossess the buoyant property of true poetry, their fame will beestablished in after years, when no one will ask, ‘What said thereviewers?’” Her remarks as to plagiarism—petty pilferings—and borrowingfrom others, to be found in her letters, are most interesting. Shethought that “imitative traces, of one kind or other, may be found in allworks of imagination, up to Homer; and that he is not detected in thesame practice, is certainly owing to the little that remains of thewritings of his predecessors. ” Her religious views were broad. She felt “no great reverence for Kings. ”In politics she was a Whig. “I was born and bred in Whiggism, ” whichword, she tells us, was synonymous to “fool and rascal, ” from Johnson’slips. It may be added that Johnson also said, “the Devil was the firstWhig. ” She confessed she had no great appetite for politics, though sheexpressed her views pretty freely on the subject. In 1790 the titles ofnobility were suppressed in France, and Anna Seward disapproved ofBurke’s vindication of hereditary honours. She thought that “they aremore likely to make a man repose, with slumbering virtue upon them, forthe distinction he is to receive in society, than to inspire the effortof rendering himself worthy of them. They are to men what beauty is towomen, a dangerous gift, which has a natural tendency to make themindolent, silly, and worthless. Let property be hereditary, but lettitular honours be the reward of noble or useful exertions. France, inher folly, has destroyed them totally, instead of making themconditional. ” Howbeit, titled people appear to have been highly honouredby her, notwithstanding these observations. By 1797 she had lost herlong-existing confidence in Pitt’s wisdom and integrity, and in 1798 shethought he was “disqualified for retaining the reasonable confidence ofthe people of England. ” In 1801 she wrote of “Pitt’s low and perfidiousmanœuvres, ” and she never changed her opinion of him. She seemed unableto write what is called plain English. Archdeacon Vyse is described byher as “a man of prioric talents in a metrical impromptu. ” Anotherperson “evinced an elevated mind, ” while a third exhibited an “atticspirit” in her writings. An evening is described as being “attic”; buteven Pope, we may remark, calls a nightingale an “attic warbler. ” It istrue, however, he was writing poetry, not prose. Though a Bluestocking, her praise was usually generously bestowed; she knew well how to flatter. She, though unacquainted with Latin, paraphrased Horace; and she admittedher ignorance of French. She loved all animals, notably cats and dogs, and, believing in a future existence for the dumb creation, wrote a poem, entitled “On the Future Existence of Brutes. ” The following are three of more beautiful stanzas:— “Has GOD decreed this helpless, suffering train Shall, groaning yield the vital breath he gave, Unrecompens’d for years of want, and pain, And close on them the portals of the grave? Ah, no! the great Retributory Mind Will recompense, and may, perhaps, ordain Some future mode of being, more refin’d Than ours, less sullied with inherent stain; Less torn by passion, and less prone to sin, Their duty easier, trial less severe, Till their firm faith, and virtue prov’d, may win The wreaths of life in yon Eternal Sphere. She appears to have liked all things bright and beautiful. “It is tooseldom, ” she wrote, “that people express a conscious enjoyment of thepresent. While regret is busy with the past, and expectation with thefuture, _ennui_ usurps the place of cheerful feelings, and thinks coldlyof the social, and yawns through the studious hour. ” But as to Balls, she tells us, “I am one of the creatures that love not Balls in general. ” Had she lived now, she probably would have approved of women havingvotes, for, concerning a book published in her life-time, entitled, “Rights of Woman, ” she wrote:—“It has, by turns, pleased and displeased, startled, and half-convinced me that its author is oftener right thanwrong. Though the ideas of absolute equality in the sexes are carriedtoo far, and though they certainly militate against St. Paul’s maximsconcerning that important compact, yet they do expose a train ofmischievous mistakes in the education of females. ” We may note that TomPaine, “the greatest of pamphleteers, ” died in 1809, whose pamphlets, “The Rights of Man, ” and “The Age of Reason, ” achieved great success. Anna Seward sympathised with the views expressed in his books on theFrench Revolution, though she considered many of his views on politicsfar too fanciful to be put into practice; moreover, she thought theywould, if adopted, “ruin the earth. ” Her affection for a Mr. Saville (“a man of sense, and a scholar”) who wasfor 48 years Vicar-choral of Lichfield Cathedral, appears to have beenmerely platonic, though deep and sincere. In a letter dated August 31st, 1803, she tells us that, “the dearest friend I had on earth, passed inone quarter of an hour, from apparent health and even gay vivacity, tothe silence and ghastliness of death. ” He died August 2nd, 1803, aged 67years. She erected a monument to his memory in the Cathedral, andcomposed the verses inscribed on it. His vault is on the south side ofthe green surrounding the Cathedral. In a letter to Sir Walter Scott, written in 1807, the poetess remarksthat her “astonishment and disgust” rose to their utmost height while sheread Wordsworth’s poem, “The Daffodils”—“dancing daffodils, ten thousand, as he says, in high dance in the breeze beside the river, whose wavesdance with them, and the poet’s heart, we are told, danced too. ” Shedeemed this unnatural writing, and mentions some of his verses she liked, notably the “Leech-Gatherer. ” If he had written nothing else, thatcomposition might stamp him, she thought, a poet of no common powers. Lovers of poetry generally, however, think “The Daffodils” one of themost beautiful poems ever written. Mr. Alfred Austin, the Laureate of our own day, has recently written inan article, entitled, “The Essentials of Great Poetry, ” that the Englishmasters of song are, Chaucer, Spencer, Shakespeare, Milton, and Byron, and he tells us that only the merest fraction of Wordsworth’s work isreal poetry. Anna Seward would seem to have agreed with the selection ofthese names, if we substitute Pope for Byron. However, the latter was, we must recollect, only born in 1788. She would surely have welcomed Mr. Austin’s estimate of Wordsworth! Anna Seward considered Southey’sgenius, beyond comparison, superior to that of Wordsworth. She wrote in1796, “This is the age of wonders. A great one has lately arisen in thepoetical world—the most extraordinary that ever appeared, as to juvenilepowers, except that of the ill-starred Chatterton—Southey’s Joan of Arc, an epic poem of strength and beauty, by a youth of twenty. ” Cowper was, to her mind, a vapourish egotist and a fanatic. She hated his Calvinism, and thought that the spirit of scornful denunciation everywhere prevailswhen Cowper reprehends the errors of mankind. Still, in answer to arequest for her opinion of Cowper, she wrote, “He appears to me at once afascinating, and a great poet; as a descriptive one, hardly excelled;”but she would not allow that his constitutional melancholy was any excusefor his misantrophy. She writes, “Dante is the only poetic author ofhigh reputation, whom I cannot understand. Were you not struck with theinherent cruelty of that mind which could delight in suggesting pains andpenalties at once so odious and so horrid?” We may remember that Dantehas stated that “I found the original of my hell in the world which weinhabit. ” She did not like “gloomy religionists, ” as she called the Calvinists. One acquaintance she evidently did not care for, because he talked“methodistically. ” Hannah More, she lamented, “exposed herself to thereproach of that absurd and intolerant Methodism with which I have longbelieved her tainted. ” She wrote to the Rev. R. Fellowes; “the eminentchampion in our day of true and perfect Christianity, ”—“How happily haveyou removed that dire impediment to rational faith, the doctrine oforiginal sin, which the revived Calvinistic school, of which Mr. Wilberforce is the head, so injudiciously presses upon the attention ofthe public. . . . The licentious, or giddy votaries of fashion, wish tohave an excuse for persisting in their career, and think they have foundit in the dark and cruel difficulties in which resumed Calvinism involvesChristianity. ” Anna Seward did not sing, but enjoyed music. She learnt, late in life, to handle the harpsichord sufficiently well to play it in little privateconcerts. Musical festivals she frequented, and admired ElizabethBillington’s singing. This vocalist is remembered in our day as one of England’s greatestsingers, especially at Handel commemorations. “Handel, ” Anna Sewardsaid, “is as absolute a monarch of the human passions as Shakespeare. ” . . . “Were Handel living, I should approach and address him with much moreawe than any merely good sort of body upon the throne of England. ” . . . “Poetry itself, though so much the elder science, for music has been ascience only since the harmonic combinations were discovered, possessesnot a more inherent empire over the passions than music, of which Handelis the mighty master; than whom ‘Nothing went before so great, And nothing greater can succeed. ’” . . . “Milton knew music scientifically, and felt all its powers. To SamuelJohnson, the sweetest airs and most superb harmonies were but unmeaningnoises. {39} I often regret that Milton and Handel were notcontemporaries; that the former knew not the delight of hearing his ownpoetry heightened as Handel has heightened it. ” The poetess thought that “The contemptible rage for novel-reading is apernicious and deplorably prevalent taste, which vitiates and palls theappetite for literary food of a more nutritive and wholesome kind. . . . I am well assured, that novels and political tracts are the only thingsgenerally read. ” . . . Though disavowing a propensity to read and to lovenovels, yet she always considered the “Clarissa” and “Grandison” ofRichardson—“glorious Richardson” she calls him—as the highest efforts ofgenius in our language, next to Shakespeare’s plays. She abjured thecoarse, unfeeling taste of those who preferred Fielding’s romances to theglories of the Richardsonian pen. In 1792 she wrote that “the Londonpapers had no authority for saying that I was writing a novel. Thedesign of framing such a composition never occurred to me; though I amwell aware that novels and political tracts are the only things generallyread. If I could write like Richardson, I would turn novelist; but thenmy work would be too good to be popular;—for how is Richardsonneglected!” Mr. Andrew Lang, at the festival this year of the Royal Literary Fund, stated that the only literary people who prospered were “the novelist andthe gentleman who remembered many people in his reminiscences. Theessayist was no longer in favour. He had been killed by fiction andphotographs. It was the purpose of the Royal Literary Fund to aidauthors who needed assistance, and all who were not novelists did needit. ” It seems that the public, a hundred years ago, had the same tasteas the public of to-day! It is novels, novels, novels, which alonesatisfy their appetites, when they feed on books! “Wit was never my talent, ” Anna Seward says, but she has recorded thatwhen the “rulers of our Cathedral” decreed a four years’ silence for “thepealing organ and the full-voic’d choir, ” because of alterations to bemade there, she considered them “a little bedemoned, or muchbe-deaned—which is nearly the same thing. ” Anna Seward was a faithful and generous friend; her fault would appear tohave been her conceit. As Mr. Lucas finely remarks, everything conspiredto increase her self-esteem and importance, for the three things thatmight have corrected it were all lacking: poverty, London life, andmarriage. The poetess had several lovers, and was jilted by one, who was a nativeof Lichfield, and who afterwards became a General. “But overtures, notpreceded by assiduous tenderness and, which expected to reap the harvestof love without having nursed its germs, suited not my native enthusiasm, nor were calculated to inspire it. ” She wrote in 1767, from GothamRectory, “to a female mind, that that can employ itself ingeniously, thatis capable of friendship, that is blessed with affluence, where are theevils of celibacy? For my part, I could never imagine that there wereany, at least, compared to the _ennui_, the chagrin, the preclusion, which hearts, cast in the warm mould of passion, must feel in a marriageof mere esteem. ” As to sermons, she considered, “immoderate length in a sermon is a faultwhich excellence itself cannot expiate. ” . . . “The present mode of dressin our young women of fashion, and _their_ imitators, is, for its grossimmodesty, a proper subject of grave rebuke for the preacher. ” . . . “Nothing is more disgusting to me, and, indeed, to the generality ofpeople, than dictatorial egotism from the pulpit. Even in the learnedand aged clergyman it is priestly arrogance. When we see that man in thepulpit whom we are in the habit of meeting at the festal board, at thecard-table, perhaps seen join in the dance, and over whose frailties, incommon with our own, no holy curtain has been drawn, we expect modestexhortation, sober reasoning, chastened denunciation. ” . . . Anna Seward informs us that she was “no great reader of sermons, ” but shewrote a sermon for “an ingenious young clergyman of our neighbourhood, who has just taken orders, and who wishes to make his first essay in thepulpit with something of my writing. If I know anything of my talents, sermonising is their _forte_. ” She wrote another sermon for a friend, afuneral sermon, delivered on a festival day—Whit-Sunday, and chose thetext from the 7th chapter of Job; a verse than which she thought therewas nothing in Scripture more sublime:—“The eyes of them that have seenme, shall see me no more—thine eyes are upon me—and I am not. ” “Theyoung preacher, ” she says, “spoke this oration with solemn earnestnessand unaffected sensibility. ” Her love and admiration for Lichfield began early in life, and remainedkeen to its close. When twenty-four years old she wrote from GothamRectory, in 1767, “We bend our course towards Lichfield, lovely, interesting Lichfield, where the sweetest days of my youth havepassed—the days of prime. ” No City could compare with Lichfield in hereyes, and no Cathedral with that of Lichfield when the music to be heardthere was also taken into account. After visiting York Cathedral, that“vast and beautiful House of God”: she herself styled it “noble andtranscendent, ” she wrote, “I passed through York, and heard choralservice in the noblest Cathedral in the world; . . . But if the sightperceived the undying superiority of York Minster, my ear acknowledgedthe yet more transcendent, harmonic advantages of the Gothic boast ofLichfield. ” Lichfield, although it may seem to the casual visitor rather a sleepyplace to-day, appears to have been pretty lively in Anna Seward’s day. “Plays thrice in the week, balls and suppers at our Inns, cards andfeasting within our houses. ” And again, “Lichfield has been of latewondrous gay. Six private balls were given, which I was persuaded toattend. ” Sir Walter Scott corresponded for some time with the poetess before hisvisit to Lichfield in May, 1807. He wrote in 1805, “believe me, I shallnot be within many miles of Lichfield without paying my personal respectsto you, and yet I should not do it in prudence, because I am afraid youhave formed a higher opinion of me than I deserve; you would expect tosee a person who had dedicated himself much to literary pursuits, and youwould find me a rattle-skulled half-lawyer, half-sportsman, through whosehead a regiment of horse has been exercising since he was five years old;half-educated, half-crazy, as his friends sometimes tell him, half-everything, but entirely Miss Seward’s much obliged, affectionateand faithful servant, Walter Scott. ” She wrote of him, “the stranger guest delighted us all by the unaffectedcharms of his mind and manners, ” and Scott, Lockhart tells us, “had been, as was natural, pleased and flattered by the attentions of the Lichfieldpoetess in the days of his early aspirations after literary distinction. ” No one can deny that Anna Seward was the most famous poetess of her day, but there is, as Sir Walter Scott wrote, “a fashion in poetry, which, without increasing or diminishing the real value of the materials mouldedupon it, does wonders in facilitating its currency, while it has novelty, and is often found to impede its reception when the mode has passedaway. ” It must be admitted that her poetry is not likely ever again tobe much read; still, a study of her, and of the Lichfield _Savants_ ofher time, must always be instructive. Writing as to the probability of the poems being much read, Sir WalterScott says: “The general reception they may meet with is dubious, sincecollectors of occasional and detached poems have rarely been honouredwith a large share of public favour. ” There is yet, it may be suggested, another reason, which is, that herpoetry was far too artificial, and abounds in words now unfashionable, even when used in prose. Anna Seward died 25th March, 1809, and is buried Lichfield Cathedral, probably in the choir. She had always prayed for a sudden death, butthough this prayer was not literally answered, she did not long sufferserious illness, for on the 23rd of March she was seized with “anuniversal stupor, ” which only continued until the 25th. The poetess has always been known as “The Swan of Lichfield, ” though noone seems to know who gave her the name. There are two portraits of Anna Seward, painted by Romney; the latestparticulars with regard to their history and present ownership is to befound in “Notes and Queries” 10, s. IX. , 218. Her portrait by Kettle isin the possession of Colonel Sir Robert T. White-Thomson, K. C. B. , ofBroomford Manor, Exbourne, N. Devon, and he also possesses a miniature ofher by Miers. It is not known who the painter was of the portraitforming the frontispiece of this book, which is the same as thefrontispiece to “The Lady’s Monthly Museum” for March, 1799. Anna Seward commenced her Will thus:—“I, Anne, or as I have generallywritten myself, _Anna_ Seward, daughter of the late Reverend ThomasSeward, Canon Residentiary of the Cathedral Church of Lichfield, do makeand publish my last Will and Testament in manner following:—I desire tohave a frugal and private funeral, without any other needless expensethan that of a lead coffin to protect my breathless body. If the Deanand Chapter shall not object to our family vault in the choir being oncemore opened, I desire to be laid at the feet of my late dear father; but, if they object to disturbing the choir pavement, I then request to belaid by the side of him who was my faithful excellent friend, through thecourse of thirty-seven years, the late Mr. John Savile, in the vaultwhich I made for the protection of his remains in the burial ground onthe south side of the Lichfield Cathedral: I will that my hereafterexecutors, or trustees, commission one of the most approved sculptors toprepare a monument for my late father and his family, of the value of£500; that with consent of the Dean and Chapter, they take care the samebe placed in a proper part of Lichfield Cathedral. ” The Will is a verylengthy one, many relations, connections, servants and friends beingremembered in it. Lockhart relates that “she bequeathed her poetry toScott, with an injunction to publish it speedily and prefix a sketch ofher life, while she made her letters (of which she had kept copies) theproperty of Mr. Constable, in the assurance that due regard for his owninterests would forthwith place the whole collection before the admiringworld. Scott superintended accordingly the edition of the lady’s verses, which was published in three volumes in August, 1810, by John Ballantyneand Co. , and Constable lost no time in announcing her correspondence, which appeared a year later, in six volumes. ” As regards the literary correspondence, Lockhart observed, “no collectionof this kind, after all, can be wholly without value; I have alreadydrawn from it some sufficiently interesting fragments, as the biographiesof other eminent authors of this time will probably do hereafter underthe like circumstances. ” The _Staffordshire Advertiser_ for July 8th, 1809, contained thefollowing notice:—“We hear Mr. Constable intends to publish Miss Seward’scorrespondence before Christmas next; and if the public in general be asanxious for its appearance as the inhabitants of Lichfield and itsvicinity, it must prove to him a very valuable legacy indeed. ” A monument, the work of Bacon, was erected in the Cathedral, commemorating the parents of Anna Seward, her sister Sarah, and herself. It was originally placed in the north transept, but is now in the northaisle of the nave. There is a representation of the poetess mourning herrelations, while her harp hangs, neglected, on a tree. Sir Walter Scott wrote the lines on the monument, which run as follows:— Amid these Aisles, where once his precepts showed, The heavenward pathway which in life he trode, This simple tablet marks a Father’s bier; And those he loved in life, in death are near. For him, for them, a daughter bade it rise, Memorial of domestic charities. Still would you know why o’er the marble spread, In female grace the willow droops her head; Why on her branches, silent and unstrung, The minstrel harp, is emblematic hung; What Poet’s voice is smother’d here in dust, Till waked to join the chorus of the just; Lo! one brief line an answer sad supplies— Honour’d, belov’d, and mourn’d, here Seward lies: Her worth, her warmth of heart, our sorrows say: Go seek her genius in her living lay. INDEX. _Pages_ André 5, 6, 7, 17 Animals 33 Anstey 15 Austin, Mr. Alfred 36 Barry 8 Bath 13, 14 Bath Easton 13 Billington 38, 39 Boothby 20 Boswell 23, 26 Burke 31 Butt 16 Buxton 5, 27 Card playing 30 Calvinism 37, 38 Cook 17 Cowper 15, 37 Darwin, Erasmus 12, 13, 19, 20, 29 Davies 20 Day 7, 8 Edgeworth, Family of 8, 9, 10, 11, 19, 20, 29 Erskine 27 Eyam 1 Fellowes 38 Garrick 14, 16, 23 Gotham 11, 12, 42, 44 Graves 16 Green 4 Handel 39, 40 Hayley 15, 16 Horse Exercise 30 Howard 28, 29 Hunter, Family of 1, 4, 11 Jerningham 16 Johnson, Samuel 3, 15, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 31, 39 Kettle 47, 48 Knowles 25 Ladies of Llangollen 17, 18 Lang, Mr. Andrew 41 Lichfield, Cathedral 2, 9, 35, 41, 44, 45, 47, 48, 49, 50 City 12, 44 Lockhart 46, 49, 50 “Louisa” 18 Lucas, Mr. E. V. 10, 16, 42 Macaulay 24, 25, 26 Mansel 27, 28 Martin of Gotham 11, 12 Methodists 38 Miers 48 Miller, Lady 13, 14, 15 Milton 24, 36 More 38 Music 38, 39 Newton 4 Northumberland, Duchess of 15 Novel-reading 40, 41 Piozzi 21, 22 Pitt 32 Pope 24, 36 Porter, Family of 3 Portraits of Anna Seward 47, 48 Religion, Gloomy 37 Romney 15, 47 Saville 27, 35, 49 Scott, Sir Walter 20, 35, 45, 46, 47, 49, 51 Sermons 42, 43, 44 Seward, Canon 1, 2, 9, 19, 50 Seward, Sarah 3, 12, 51 Seward, Anna Birth of 1 Death of 47 Will of 48 Burial Place of 47, 48, 49 Monument of 50 Relics of 47, 48 Sneyd, Honora 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 Marriage of 9 Character of 5, 10, 11 Death of 9 Burial Place of 9 Southey 15, 36, 37 Vase, The, at Bath Easton 13, 14, 15, 16, 17 Vyse 20, 32 Warton 29 Warwick, Earl of 8 Washington 6, 7 Whalley 16, 17, 25 White 20 White-Thomson, Sir R. T. 47, 48 Wilberforce 17, 38 Wit 41 Woman’s Rights 34, 35 Wordsworth 35, 36 Footnotes {20} NOTE. —It was Thomas White, Prebendary of Lichfield Cathedral, whomarried Lucy Hunter, and became the father of Henry White. {39} Macaulay says that Johnson just knew the bell of St. Clement’sChurch from the organ.