Essay on Man, frequently present passages in a plain unornamented style, though not, it is true, with the says he's, and says she's, and the belikes of Dryden.

Pope's friends, in his lifetime,.asserted opinions like these of mine publicly; and Mr Weston injuriously imputes them to his influence, to a design of assassinating the fame of his great predecessor, to which he uniformly bears very ardent testimony, regretting only that he had not learned the art to blot, a regret in which surely all people of just taste must unite.

A friend is with me, whom I quit with reluctance to take up my pen, even to you, who have so much honoured and obliged me. I am, Sir,

Your faithful humble servant.

VOL. II.

LETTER LIX.

MRS PIOZZI.

Lichfield, Feb. 13, 1789.

Too sensible am I of the rapidity with which my dear Mrs Piozzi's hours must fleet away, to feel resentment arise and mix with my regrets when she is silent.

I must account to you, dearest Madam, how it came to pass that I knew not, till I received your letter, of the existence of such a poem as Diversity.

My long conviction concerning the total incompetence of our modern public critics to estimate the genuine value of poetic compositions; my nausea of their false rules and blundering analizations, their venal praise and malicious abuse, at length made me resolve to avoid wasting my time over any of them, except the Gentleman's Magazine, to which I often send verses and little essays. It is several years since I have seen any of its brethren, that has not been obtruded upon my attention, and I see only one newspaper, the General Evening. Hence is it that I sometimes

do not hear of fine compositions till they have been out perhaps many weeks; but, sure to hear of them at length, from some of my literary correspondents, I look upon the delay of the pleasure I have in reading them as a less evil in the balance against those hectics which false criticism always gives me. I have ordered Diversity from my bookseller, but it is generally a fortnight at least before I receive the books I bespeak.

The wish you express to see me in town is very flattering; but my father is too feeble to be left. Invalid parents have always made me a great home-keeper. I begin to suspect that the long continuance of stationary habits will make them adhere to my inclinations, even when the precious chains, now entwined around my heart, shall be finally broken.

I was interrupted at the close of my last sentence, and prevented by an eruptive inflammation in my eye-lids, from resuming my pen, except when indispensable business forced it into my fingers. I have, in the interim, seen Major Barry ; and I spoke immediately to him of the poem in question." It is Mr Merry's, and how do you like it, Colonel ?" "I told Mrs Piozzi I could "O! you should have read

not understand it."

it a second time." "I did not think it worth while

-since one wants time to read better things with the attention they deserve."

He delighted me by saying that your Sonnets are on the eve of publication.

Mr Merry has hitherto appeared to me a writer of considerable genius; but whom self-confidence, and total want of taste, perpetually betrays into bombast, obscurity, and inelegance. Then the Anna Matilda verses are evidently his composition; and is it not very sickening to see an author creeping beneath a veil of gauze, and proclaiming under it, that he is the first poet the world has ever produced?

I have not read Mr Cumberland's novel—nor ever wish to read a novel written by one who has proclaimed the Clarissa of Richardson void of genius, of nature, and inimical to the right formation of the female mind.

I am very sorry Mr Greathead's laurels have suffered a blight, since his virtues interest the wishes of all the generous who know him, for the duration of every thing which promotes his happiness.

Adieu! dearest Madam. My best compliments to Mr Piozzi.

Yours, very faithfully.

LETTER LX.

GEORGE HARDINGE, ESQ.

Lichfield, Feb. 24, 1789.

I HAVE indeed a great deal for which to love you. You are a noble creature.-May the generosity, kindness, and exertion you have devoted to the interests of the amiable, unfortunate Mrs B. be rewarded by many a blessing, superadded to a consciousness that will strew roses over your pillow!

I congratulate you, from my inmost heart, upon the king's recovery, which, I trust, will preserve to us the political saviour of our country.

Your mind has of late, I conclude, been too much engrossed by patriotic solicitudes to receive visits from your muse, though benevolence, through the ever-open passages in your heart, found means to engage your animated attention. The next poetical pleasure you can give me to that of sending me verses of your own, is to hear you avow approbation of mine. It is from you that I learn the existence of the word idiocy, as synonymous to idiotism. Substituting it for the lat