being on a visit to an old and opulent family of the name of Deverell, in Dereham, Norfolk, I was taken to the house of an ancient lady (a member of the aforesaid family), to pay my respects to her, and to drink

tea. Two visitors were particularly expected. They soon arrived. The first, if I remember rightly (for my whole attention was singularly riveted to the second), was a pleasant-looking, lively young man—very talkative and entertaining; his companion was above the middle height, broadly made, but not stout, and advanced in years. His countenance had a peculiar charm, that I could not resist. It alternately exhibited a deep sadness, a thoughtful repose, a fearful and an intellectual fire, that surprised and held me captive. His manner was embarrassed and reserved. He spoke but little. Yet once he was roused to animation; then his voice was full and clear. I have a faint recollection that I saw his face lighted up with a momentary smile. His hostess kindly welcomed him as "Mr. Cooper." After tea, we walked for a while in the garden. I kept close to his side, and once he addressed me as "My little master." I returned to school; but that variable, expressive, and interesting countenance I did not forget. In after years, standing, as was my wont, before the shop windows of the London booksellers (I have not quite left off this old habit!), reading the title-pages of tomes that I intensely longed, but had not then the money, to purchase, I recognised at a shop in St. Paul's Churchyard that well-remembered face, prefixed to a volume of poems, "written by William Cowper, of the Inner Temple, Esq." The cap (for when I saw "Mr. Cooper" he wore a wig, or his hair, for his age, was unusually luxuriant) was the only thing that puzzled me. To make "assurance doubly sure," I hastened to the house of a near relation hard by, and I soon learnt that "Mr. Cooper" was William Cowper. The welcome present of a few shillings put me in immediate possession of the coveted volumes. I will only just add, that I read, and re-read them; that the man whom, in my early boyhood, I had so mysteriously reverenced, in my youth I deeply and devotedly admired and loved! Many, many years have since passed away: but that reverence, that admiration, and that love have experienced neither diminution nor change.

It was something, said Washington Irving, to have seen even the dust of Shakspeare. It is something too, good Mr. Editor, to have beheld the face and to have heard the voice of Cowper.

George Daniel.

YANKEE, ITS ORIGIN AND MEANING.

The meaning of the term Yankee, which our transatlantic brethren now willingly adopt as their collective name, has acquired more notoriety than it deserved from the unlucky and far-fetched derivations which it has received in so many different publications. The term is of Anglo-Saxon origin, and of home-growth. We all know, from the veritable Diedricht Knickerbocker's History of New York, that its earliest settlers were exclusively Dutchmen, who naturally named it, though from anything but similarity in local situation, New Amsterdam. We may, of course, suppose that in the multitude of these Dutch settlers the names they carried over would be pretty nearly in the same proportion as at home. Both then and now the Dutch Jan (the a sounded very broad and long), abbreviated from the German Johann, our John, was the prevailing Christian appellative; and it even furnished, in Jansen, &c. (like our Johnson), frequent patronymics, particularly with the favourite diminutive cke, Jancke: and so common does it still remain as such, that it would be difficult to open the Directory of any decent-sized Dutch or Northern German town without finding numerous instances, as Jancke, Jaancke, Jahncke, &c., according as custom has settled the orthography in each family. It is scarcely necessary to say that the soft J is frequently rendered by Y in our English reading and speaking foreign words (as the Scandinavian and German Jule becomes our Yule), to show how easily and naturally the above names were transformed into Yahnkee. So much for the name as an appellative; now for its appropriation as a generic. The prominent names of individuals are frequently seized upon by the vulgar as a designation of the people or party in which it most prevails. We have Paddies for Irishmen, Taffies for Welshmen, and Sawnies (abbreviated Alexander) for our Scotch brethren: so, therefore, when English interests gained the upper hand, and the name of New Amsterdam succumbed to that of New York, the fresh comers, the English settlers, seized upon the most prominent name by which to designate its former masters, which extended to the whole of North America, as far as Canada: and the addition of doodle, twin brother to noodle, was intended to mark more strongly the contempt and mockery by the dominant party; just as a Sawney is, in most of the northern counties, a term next door to a fool. It is, however, to the credit of our transatlantic brethren, and the best sign of their practical good sense, that they have turned the tables on the innuendo, and by adopting, carried the term into repute by sheer resolution and determinate perseverance.

The term slave is only the misappropriation, by malevolent neighbours, of the Slavonic term slaus or laus, so frequent in the proper names of that people; Ladislaus, Stanislaus, Wratislaus, &c., meaning, in their vernacular tongue, glory or praise, like the Latin laus, with which it is no doubt cognate: and so servi and servants is but a derivative from the Serbs, Sorbs, or Servians, whose glorious feats in arms against their Turkish oppressors have proved that there is nothing servile in their character.

William Bell, Phil. Dr.

17. Gower Place, Euston Square.

SHAKSPEARE'S BEDSIDE, OR THE DOCTORS ENUMERATED.—A NEW BALLAD.

On looking over a collection of MSS. which has lain untouched for many years, I have lighted on the accompanying ballad. Of its source I know nothing; nor do I recollect how it fell into my hands. I have never seen it in print. The author, fancifully enough, imagines the various editions of Shakspeare brought in succession to the sick-bed of the immortal bard, and has curiously detailed the result of their several prescriptions.

If you do me the favour of giving it insertion in your valuable "N. & Q." I shall feel obliged; and I think that your numerous Shakspeare correspondents, to some of whom it may be unknown, will not be displeased at seeing it in the columns of your interesting journal. The editorial period to which the ballad is brought down will tolerably fix its date: