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their daily resort for conversation, and their daily resource when in quest of books of rarity and value. Mr. Payne senior died February 9, 1799, in his eighty-second year, and was buried at Finchley, near the remains of his wife and brother. Of his family the only survivor is his daughter, Mrs. Burney, widow of the late Admiral Burney.

Mr. Payne, his eldest son, was born Oct. 10, 1752, and was educated at M. Metayer's, a classical school of reputation in Charterhouse Square. His father was anxious that he should be instructed in every branch of education necessary to an intimate acquaintance with the contents and reputation of books in foreign languages. This initiation into the history of books, the late Mr. Payne augmented, even to a high degree of critical knowledge, by frequent tours on the Continent, and particularly by an amicable intercourse with the eminent scholars and collectors, whose conversation for many years formed the attraction of his well-frequented premises; and perhaps there is no public or private library now existing that has not been indebted to the extensive purchases which his judgment enabled him to make both at home and abroad. We need only appeal to the Roxburgh, Borromeo, Larcher, and Macartby collections; and to the very copious, correct, and, we may add, scientific catalogues which have issued from his establishment for some years pastcatalogues not only requisite for the immediate purposes of sale, but as books of reference for the completion of every library, and as highly promoting that taste for bibliography, which began and was perfected in his time.

Confidence was uniformly placed in his judgment and opinion by the most eminent and curious collectors, which themselves or their survivors are now eager to acknowledge by every expression of esteem, and every testimony of regret. Another trait of his character bas frequently been brought forward, and can never be forgot the readiness with which he assisted literary men in their pursuits, by furnishing them with books not easily procured, and by pointing out sources of information, to which retired scholars seldom have access.

After carrying on business at the Mews-gate, almost from his infancy, Mr. Payne removed, in 1806, to Pallmall, where his stock, now amazingly increased and increasing, could be seen to the greatest advantage, and where his learned friends had a place of assembling more commodious than any in London. In 1813 he took into partnership Mr.

[March,

Mr. Payne enjoyed for many years an excellent state of health, but in 1825 became sensible of much weakness, and was obliged to desist from his favourite relaxation of travelling. He had occasional returns of apparent strength, but on Tuesday evening the 8th of March, he experienced an apoplectic attack, under which he languished until the 15th, when he breathed his last; and it is a source of consolation to all bis friends, that during the whole week it did not appear that his sufferings had been acute.

In point of integrity Mr. Payne was the legitimate successor of his father, but it yet remains to be added (for the present writer cannot easily depart from the subject) that his personal excellence was kindness of temper, and a gentleman-like suavity of manners. He was not indeed exempt from the provocations of pertness and ingratitude, but resentment did not enter into bis composition. When angry, which was but seldom, he seemed rather to be acting a part, and he acted it ill, and gave it up soon, to return to what. formed the charm of his company, the natural equability and calmness of his temper.

His friendships, many of long standing, were inviolable. In conversation, as may be expected, he discovered much acquaintance with literary history and anecdote, and his communications were the more interesting, as he had survived all his brethren, and was at the time of his death the father of the booksellers. But such was his modest deference to his friends, that he was, especially of late years, far oftener a hearer than a speaker, and willingly gave way to the vivacity of youth. It was this happy temper which endeared him to all who lived with him in intimacy, and with these we have more than once beard it as a question, whether Mr. Payne could possibly have an enemy.

Mr. Payne was interred in the parish church of St. Martin's in the Fields, on Thursday the 24th. R. S.

MR. N. T. CARRINGTON. Sept. 2. At his son's house, in St. James's-street, Bath, after long and patiently-endured suffering, from consumption, aged 53, Mr. N. T. Carrington, author of "Dartmoor," "The Banks of Tamar," "My Native Village," and other poems.

He was born at Plymouth in the year 1777. His parents were engaged in a retail grocery business, and, at one period of their lives, were possessed of considerable property. His father was

1831.]

also employed, in some capacity, in the Plymouth Arsenal. When the subject of our memoir had attained his fifteenth year, his father proposed to apprentice him to Mr. Foot, then First Assistant in the Plymouth Dock Yard. On this subject we are enabled to quote Mr. Carrington's own words,-"A handsome sum of money was to have been paid down as the price of my admission into the Yard as Mr. Foot's apprentice. Such things were allowed then; I believe that they now manage very differently. In consequence, however, of some difference, I was finally bound apprentice to Mr. Thomas Fox, a measurer.

"I was totally unfit, however, for the profession. Mild and meek by nature, fond of literary pursuits, and inordinately attached to reading, it is strange that a mechanical profession should have been chosen for me. It was principally, however, my own fault. My father was attached to the Dock Yard, and wished to see me in it; and as the popular prejudice in those days among the boys of the town was in favour of the business of a shipwright, I was carried away by the prevailing mania, and was accordingly bound apprentice. This, however, had scarcely been done when I repented; and too late found that I had embraced a calling foreign to my inclinations. Dissatisfaction followed, and the noise and bustle of a Dock Yard were but ill suited to a mind predisposed to reflection and the quietest and most gentle pursuits. The ruffianism (I will not change the term) of too many of the apprentices, and, indeed, of too many of the men, sickened me. Let no parent place his child in the Dock Yard at Plymouth, unless he have previously ascertained that his health, strength, personal courage, and general habits of thinking and acting, will make him a match for the desperate spirits with whom he will have to contend. I hope that the condition of the Yard in respect to the apprentices is ameliorated now; but I cannot help, although I have been emancipated so long, and am now 53 years of age-I cannot, I say, refrain from registering my detestation of the blackguardism which did prevail in the Yard at the time of my unfortunate apprenticeship."

The above observations (written shortly before his decease) have been found in a rough memorandum-book, accompanied by the following note to his eldest son, now proprietor of the Bath Chronicle.

"Dear Henry,

"I have been repeatedly spoken to by various persons to leave some account

277

of my life (My life) which, say they, if hereafter prefixed to my "Remains," may probably be productive of some benefit to the family. It is this consideration, my dear son, and this only, that prompts me to leave you some materials from which you may draw up a memoir. Let it be as correct, and as near the spirit of the MS. as possible.-I am, my dear Henry, your affectionate father,

"N. T. CARRINGTON."

This brief epistle is admirably illustrative of Mr. Carrington's characteristic modesty; and it is much to be regretted that he did not commence the task at an earlier period, as it may be safely said that his complete autobiography would have possessed considerable inWe have quoted the whole of these hasty memoranda (for they are nothing else), with the exception of a few prefatory lines.

terest.

To resume our simple narrative:-Our poet's occupation in Plymouth Dock Yard grew every day more irksome to bim, and, after remaining there about four years, he, to use a common phrase, resolved on "running away," having in vain endeavoured to prevail on his parents to place him in a situation more consonant with his favourite pursuits. On leaving the Dock Yard, not knowing whither to turn his steps, he, in a moment of bitter desperation, caused by the injustice with which he thought his parents had treated him, entered himself as a seaman on board a ship-of-war, and served in the action which took place off Cape Finisterre, Feb. 14th, 1797. His first verses on record were written in commemoration of this event; they attracted the notice of his Captain, who, perceiving that he deserved a better situation, and that some very untoward circumstances must have occurred to induce him to seek this line of life, gave him his liberty and sent him home to his native town. He then com

menced the business of a public teacher at Plymouth Dock (now Devonport), and speedily attracted considerable attention by his acuteness in his modes of instruction. It should be here observed, that Mr. Carrington was indebted entirely to his intense love of reading and research for the knowledge which he possessed; and he has often been heard to remark, that he recollects having learned nothing of consequence at school with the exception of reading, writing, arithmetic, and the elements of English grammar. He subsequently went to Maidstone, in Kent, where he opened school. He remained in that town about three years, and it may be observed that, in after life, he frequently

278

dwelt with great delight on his recollections of the scenery around Maidstone, and the character of what he used to term "its fine spirited inhabitants."

At the solicitations of a circle of friends at Plymouth-Dock, who wished bim to undertake the education of their sons, he returned in 1808 to that town, after a residence in Maidstone of about two years; and the academy which he then established he continued to conduct till within six months of his death, being a period of twenty-two years of unceasing toil. This long course of silently-discharged duty presents none of those points of inciting interest which occur in the lives of men of more precarious and more stirring fortunes. During nearly the whole of the abovenamed period, Mr Carrington was employed, in his laborious duties as a public teacher, from seven in the morning in summer till half-past seven in the evening; in the winter his labours commenced at nine in the morning and continued till eight at night. It was after this bour that he found his only opportunities of cultivating the taste for literature with which he had been gifted by nature. Although passionately fond of composition, he never suffered it to interfere in the slightest way with the more important duties of his station, and of this he frequently spoke with the exultation arising from the consciousness of his never having sacrificed business to inclination. The nature, how ever, of Mr. Carrington's studies cannot be better learned than from the following brief and affecting address prefixed to the first edition of his "Banks of Tamar."

"To the Reader.

"The severity of criticism may be softened by the intimation that the MSS. of this volume passed from the author to his printer without having been inspected by any literary friend.

"Other circumstances, very unfavourable to literary composition, have attended this work. In the celebrated tale of Old Mortality' Mr Pattieson, the village teacher, after describing with admirable fidelity his anxious and distressing labours during the day, observes, The Reader may have some conception of the relief which a solitary walk, in the cool of a fine summer evening, affords to the head which has ached and the nerves which have been shattered for so many hours in plying the task of public instruction.'

"My chief haunt,' he continues, in these hours of golden leisure, is the banks of the small stream which, winding through a lone vale of green

[March,

bracken, passes in front of the village school-house,' &c. But the teacher of Gandercleugh possessed advantages which never fell to the lot of the writer of this work. Engaged, like that farfamed personage, in the education of youth, his labours have seldom been relinquished till the close of our longest summer evenings, when, instead of retiring to the banks of a beautiful stream, be bas almost uniformly been driven by business connected with his arduous profession, or by literary cares, to his solitary study at home. There, depressed by the previous fatigues of the day, he has occasionally indulged in composition; and hence this volume, the production of many a pensive abstråcted hour."

He

Columns of description could not convey a better idea of the difficulties under which the "Banks of Tamar" was composed, than is conveyed in the above few simple words. The first edition of this poem appeared in 1820. He had, previously to the printing of this work, published many little fugitive poems of great beauty, and which attracted much attention, particularly in Devonshire, where the author was best known. next published "Dartmoor, a descriptive poem," the first edition of which appeared in 1826. This poem was writ ten for the purpose of being submitted for the premium offered about two years before, for the best poem on that subject, by the Royal Society of Literature. By some accident the premium was awarded three or four months before Mr. Carrington was aware that the time of presen tation had arrived. It is needless to say that his poem was not forwarded to the Society; the author threw it by with out entertaining the slightest intention of ever publishing an effusion on what he imagined the bulk of the reading public would think a most unpromising subject. By some chance, however, the poem came under the notice of W. Burt, esq., Secretary of the Plymouth Chamber of Commerce, who persuaded Mr. Carrington to publish it; and it accordingly appeared, with explanatory notes by that gentleman." Dartmoor" met with far greater success than the author had ever dared to anticipate. It was received with much delight by the public; it was very highly spoken of by the periodical press, and the consequence was that a second edition was called for not more than two months after the appearance of the first.

We are now approaching a very pain-' ful portion of our poet's story. Two or three years before the publication of "Dartmoor," the town of Devonport

1831.]

was seized with an unaccountable mania for Subscription Schools; by the estab lishment of the first of these academies Mr Carrington's prosperity, in common with that of several other public teachers residing in the town, was materially in⚫ jured. He still, however, struggled on, though the circumstance of his having a large family dependent on his exertions rendered the decrease of income, caused by the Subscription Schools, to be very severely felt by him. Towards the close of 1827 he was attacked by incipient consumption, and in a few months it was apparent that the disease would inevitably be fatal. He still, however, attended unceasingly to his school, and, although reduced to a mere skeleton, and weak as an infant, he continued to discharge his scholastic duties till March 1830, a period of nearly three years, when he became so completely worn out, by the inroads of the deadly complaint with which he was afflicted, that he was obliged to cease all further efforts. The most affecting incidents could be related of his noble independence of mind during the distressing sufferings with which he had to contend, but it would not be well to fill the public ear with those private matters, though many-many years must elapse before they will be effaced from the memory of his friends and connections. It was during his illness, and in as enfeebled a state of body as ever man composed in, that Mr Carrington wrote and prepared for the press his last publication "My Native Village; and other poems." In "My Native Village" he frequently alludes, in affecting terms, to the painful nature of his situation. He introduces the book to the public in the following words:

"I have not published any new volume since the publication of 'Dartmoor' so many years ago. A severe and protracted illness has prevented me from writing a poem of any length, and if the reader should occasionally perceive traces of langour in the present publication, I trust he will impute them to the proper cause. I am not, however, without hope that, although this volume was composed under some of the most distressing circumstances that ever fell to the lot of man, the ingenuous critic will find, in some pages, reasons for commenda

tion."

In this poem, as we before observed, he alludes most feelingly to his untoward lot. The following lines, referring to the Pleasant Bard of Harewood," present a touching picture of his own sufferings they were prophetic of his rapidly approaching fate.

279

His wanderings and his musings, hopes and fears,
His keen felt pleasures and his heart-wrung tears,
Are past; the grave closed on him ere those days
Had come, when on the scalp the snow-wreath
plays.

He perish'd ere his prime; but they who know
What 'tis to battle with a world of woe,
From youth to elder manhood, feel too well
That grief at last within the deepest cell
Of the poor heart, will bring decay, and shake
So fierce the soul, that care like age will make
The grasshopper a burden.' Slowly came
The mortal stroke, but to the end the flame
Of poesy burnt on. With feeble hand
He touch'd his harp, but not at his command
Came now the ancient music. Faintly fell
On his pained ear the strains he lov'd so well,
And then his heart was broken!

In the course of his illness Mr Carrington experienced much cheering kindness, not from his own townsmen, whose apathy towards literature is as proverbial now as it was when Mr Britton wrote his observations on Plymouth Dock, in his "Beauties of England and Wales,"-it was not from his townsmen that Mr Carrington experienced the kindness which cheered his latter days, but from strangers, who knew him only through his works. Among Mr Carrington's warmest-hearted friends were the Rev, J. P. Jones, of North Bovey, and the Rev. R. Mason, of Widdicombe, both on Dartmoor; Geo. Harvey, esq. F.R.S, &c. and H. Woollcombe, esq. of Plymouth; from these gentlemen, as well as from his Grace the Duke of Bedford, Lord John Russell, Lord Clifford, Sir T. D. Acland, and other noblemen and gentlemen, Mr. Carrington received much kindness and attention; nor let it be forgotten that his late Majesty George the Fourth was a liberal patron of our poet.

In July 1830, Mr. Carrington removed with his family to Bath, in order to reside with his son, who about that time had become proprietor of the Bath Chronicle. By this time he was in the most advanced stage of consumption; he daily grew weaker and weaker, and on the evening of the 2nd of September he expired, apparently of mere weakness and exhaustion. As he always expressed the utmost horror of being buried in any of the " great charnel houses of Bath" (as be used to term the burial grounds of that populous city), he was interred at Combhay, a lonely and beautiful little village about four miles from Bath.

Mr Carrington's widow and six children are now under the protection of the poet's eldest son, Mr. H. E. Carring ton, of Bath.

SHIRLEY WOOLMER, ESQ. Feb. 18. At his residence in Upper Southernhay, Exeter, aged 72, Shirley Woolmer, Esq. formerly a bookseller in that City.

As a bibliopolist Mr. Shirley Woolmer was never surpassed, whilst his indefatigable exertions in the pursuit of the sciences of Mineralogy and Geology have rendered his name renowned amongst those who have devoted themselves to these branches of useful knowledge. He frequently contributed papers on these subjects to periodical publications (particularly our own), and it is some consolation to those who hope to join him in another and a better world, to know that his exertions ever tended to enhance the goodness of the Creator, and to vindicate his Sacred Book from the attempt of the sceptic to bring it into contempt. In our January Number was an article of bis on the Geological Effects of the Deluge, wherein he raised his dying voice, as it were, in one final effort to resist the torrent of infidelity and atheism.

Those only who knew his innate goodness of heart can appreciate his worth. To the world he was known as a keen investigator of science-a devout and consistent professor of the Gospel; to bis family and connexions, as a kind and affectionate parent, and a close and steady friend, whose advice was ever sought in the hour of perplexity.

Dec. 26. The Rev. J. Middleton, Vicar of Melbourne, Derbyshire, to which he was lately collated by the Bishop of Carlisle.

Dec. 28. Aged 75, the Rev. William Robert Wake, late Vicar of Backwell, Somerset, to which he was presented by the Rector in 1787.

Jan. 2. At Clifton, aged 65, the Rev. Timothy Stonhouse Vigor, uncle to Sir John Brooke Stonhouse, Bart. He was the third son of the Rev. Sir James Stonhouse, the third Baronet; was of Oriel College, Oxford, M.A. 1789, and formerly held the living of Sunning-hill in Berkshire. He took the name of Vigor by Royal sign manual in 1795, (his sister Clarissa was the wife of Henry Tripp Vigor, esq.); and married in 1796, Charlotte-Oliver, dau. of the Rev. Thomas Huntingford, and niece to the Bishop of Hereford.

Jan. 3. At Bruton, Som. aged 68, the Rev. William Cosens, Perpetual Curate of

that chapelry, to which he was presented in 1800 by Sir R. C. Hoare, Bart.

Jan. 4. At Milton, near Northampton, aged 75, the Rev. Francis Montgomery, Rector of Harleston. He was of Lincoln coll. Oxf. M.A. 1780; and was presented to Harleston in 1809.

Jan. 6. In York Terrace, the Rev. Dr. Robert Thomson, of Long Stowe hall, Cambridgeshire.

Jan. 9. At Lewanick, Cornwall, aged 35, the Rev. Samuel Archer, Vicar of that parish, to which he was presented in 1822 by Lord Chancellor Eldon.

Jan. 9. At Southampton, aged 76, the Rev. J. C. Gonnet, domestic chaplain to the Marquess de Montmorency. He was beloved by all who knew him, and in the regular habit of devoting half his salary to the poor. His remains were deposited in the St. James's Catholic burial ground, Win

chester.

Jan. 10. At Rochester, aged 42, the Rev. Robert Lambe Warde, the second son of W. Zouch Lucas Warde, esq. of Guilsborough, co. Northamp. He was of St. John's coll. Camb. B.A. 1811.

Jan. 17. At West Bradenham, Norfolk, aged 76, the Rev. James Bentham, Vicar of that parish. He was the only son of the Rev. James Bentham, M.A. F.S.A. Prebendary and Historian of Ely Cathedral, of whom a memoir will be found in Nichols's Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century, vol. 111. p. 484. The clergyman now deceased was of Cath. hall, Camb. B.A. 1777, M.A. 1780; and was collated to Bradenham in 1788 by the Hon. Dr. Yorke, then Bishop of Ely. He republished his father's History in 1812; jointly with the late W. Stevenson, esq. F.S.A.

Jan. 18. The Rev. John Wood, Vicar of Herne, Kent, to which church he was collated in 1794 by Dr. Moore, then Abp. of Canterbury.

Jan. 20. At Rome, of a rapid decline, aged 30, the Rev. James Duff Ward, Rector of Kingston, Hants. He was of Trin. coll. Camb. M.A. 182—; and was presented in 1827 by G. Ward, esq.

Jan. 21. The Rev. Arthur Bold, Vicar of Stoke Poges, Bucks. He was of Christch. Oxf. M.A. 1802, and was presented to his living in 1803 by Lord F. Osborne.

Aged 67, the Rev. James Sewell, Vicar of Biddulph, Staffordshire, to which he was presented in 1810.

Jan. 23. Aged 70, the Rev. Isaac Grayson, Rector of St. Mary in Castlegate, York, and of Warthill, Yorkshire. He was for many years Master of the Grammar School now called St. Peter's School, in York; was presented to his church in that city in 1815 by Lord Chancellor Eldon, and to Warthill by the Prebendary of that place in York Cathedral.

Jan. 23, At Whixley, near York, aged