328 dress the evil, if he chooses to do it. But in the walks and my pastime in whatever quarter of your I must tell you a feat of my dog Beau. Walk-it with such exactness, that no cathedral in the which our modern improvers of parks and pleasure reason. Have you seen the account of five hundred celebrated authors now living? I am one of them; but stand charged with the high crime and misdeMr. Rose, whom I have mentioned to you as a meanour of totally neglecting method; an accusavisiter of mine for the first time soon after you left tion which, if the gentleman would take the pains us, writes me word that he has seen my ballads to read me, he would find sufficiently refuted. I against the slave-mongers, but not in print. Where am conscious at least myself of having laboured he met with them, I know not. Mr. Bull begged much in the arrangement of my matter, and of hard for leave to print them at Newport-Pagnel, having given to the several parts of my book of and I refused, thinking that it would be wrong to the Task, as well as to each poem in the first voanticipate the nobility, gentry, and others, at whose lume, that sort of slight connexion, which poetry pressing instance I composed them, in their design demands; for in poetry, (except professedly of the to print them. But perhaps I need not have been didactic kind) a logical precision would be stiff, so squeamish; for the opportunity to publish them pedantic, and ridiculous. But there is no pleasing in London seems now not only ripe, but rotten. I some critics; the comfort is, that I am contented, am well content. There is but one of them with whether they be pleased or not. At the same which I am myself satisfied, though I have heard time, to my honour be it spoken, the chronicler of them all well spoken of. But there are very few us five hundred prodigies bestows on me, for aught things of my own composition, that I can endure I know, more commendations than on any other to read, when they have been written a month, of my confraternity. May he live to write the though at first they seem to me to be all perfection. histories of as many thousand poets, and find me Mrs. Unwin, who has been much the happier the very best among them; Amen! I join with you, my dearest coz, in wishing that since the time of your return hither has been in some sort settled, begs me to make her kindest re- I owned the fee simple of all the beautiful scenes membrance. Yours, my dear, most truly, W. C. around you, but such emoluments were never designed for poets. Am I not happier than ever poet was, in having thee for my cousin, and in the expectation of thy arrival here whenever Strawberry-hill shall lose thee? Ever thine, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. TO LADY HESKETH. The Lodge, July 28, 1788. Ir is in vain that you tell me you have no talent at description, while in fact you describe better than any body. You have given me a most complete idea of your mansion and its situation; and THE Newtons are still here, and continue with I doubt not that with your letter in my hand by way of map, could I be set down on the spot in a us I believe until the 15th of the month. Here is moment, I should find myself qualified to take my also my friend Mr. Rose, a valuable young man, The Lodge, August 9, 1788. 1 Consule quid valeant plantæ, quid ferre recusent. who, attracted by the effluvia of my genius, found that good advice shall reach you: but be it hot, or me out in my retirement last January twelvemonth. be it cold, to a man that travels as you travel, take I have not permitted him to be idle, but have made care of yourself, can never be an unseasonable him transcribe for me the twelfth book of the Iliad. caution. I am sometimes distressed on this acHe brings me the compliments of several of the count; for though you are young, and well made literati, with whom he is acquainted in town, and for such exploits, those very circumstances are tells me, that from Dr. Maclain, whom he saw more likely than any thing to betray you into danlately, he learns that my book is in the hands of ger. sixty different persons at the Hague, who are all enchanted with it, not forgetting the said Dr. Mac(ain himself, who tells him that he reads it every The Newtons left us on Friday. We frequent day, and is always the better for it. O rare we! ly talked about you after your departure, and every I have been employed this morning in compos- thing that was spoken was to your advantage. 1 ing a Latin motto for the king's clock; the embel- know they will be glad to see you in London, and lishments of which are by Mr. Bacon. That perhaps when your summer and autumn rambles gentleman breakfasted with us on Wednesday, are over, you will afford them that pleasure. The naving come thirty-seven miles out of his way Throckmortons are equally well disposed to you, on purpose to see your cousin. At his request I and them also I recommend to you as a valuable have done it, and have made two; he will choose connexion, the rather because you can only cultithat which liketh him best. Mr. Bacon is a most vate it at Weston. excellent man, and a most agreeable companion: I would that he lived not so remote, or that he had more opportunity of traveling. There is not, so far as I know, a syllable of the rhyming correspondence between me and my poor brother left, save and except the six lines of t quoted in yours. I had the whole of it, but it perished in the wreck of a thousand other things, when I left the Temple. Breakfast calls. Adieu! TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. W. C. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Aug. 18, 1788. I have not been idle since you went, having not only laboured as usual at the Iliad, but composed a spick and span new piece, called "The Dog and the Water-Lily," which you shall see when we meet again. I believe I related to you the incident which is the subject of it. I have also read most of Lavater's Aphorisms; they appear to me some of them wise, many of them whimsical, a few of them false, and not a few of them extravagant. Nil illi medium. If he finds in a man the feature or quality that he approves, he deifies him; if the contrary, he is a devil. His verdict is in neither case, I suppose, a just one. W.C. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Sept. 11, 1788. SINCE your departure I have twice visited the oak, and with my intention to push my inquiries a mile beyond it, where it seems I should have found another oak, much larger, and much more respectable than the former, but once I was hindered by the rain, and once by the sultriness of the day. This latter oak has been known by the name of Judith many ages, and is said to have been an oak at the time of the conquest. If have not an opportunity to reach it before your arrival here, we will attempt that exploit together: and even if I should have been able to visit it ere you come, I shall yet be glad to do so; for the pleasure of extraordinary sights, like all other pleasures, is doubled by the participation of a friend. I am writing on Monday, but whether I shall finish my letter this morning depends on Mrs. Unwin's coming sooner or later down to breakfast. Something tells me that you set off to-day for Bir- You wish for a copy of my little dog's eulo mingham; and though it be a sort of Iricism to gium, which I will therefore transcribe: but by say here, I beseech you take care of yourself, for so doing, I shall leave myself but scanty room for the day threatens great heat, I can not help it; the prose. weather may be cold enough at the time when I shall be sorry if our neighbours at the hall should have left it, when we have the pleasure of] seeing you. I want you to see them soon again, that a little consuetudo may wear off restraint; and you may be able to improve the advantage you have already gained in that quarter. I pitied you for the fears which deprived you of your uncle's company, and the more having suffered so much by those fears myself. Fight against that vicious fear, for such it is, as strenuously as you can. It is the worst enemy that can attack a man destined to the forum-it ruined me. To associate as much as possible with the most respectable company, for good sense and good breeding, is, I believe, the only, at least I am sure it is the best remedy. The society of men of pleasure will not cure it, but rather leaves us more exposed to its influence in company of better persons. Now for the Dog and the Water-Lily.* Say what is the thing by my Riddle design'd I EXPECT your answer and without a fee.-The half hour next before breakfast I devote to you. The moment Mrs. Unwin arrives in the study, be what I have written much or little, I shall make my bow, and take leave. If you live to be a judge, as if I augur right you will, I shall expect to hear of a walking circuit. Weston has not been without its tragedies since you left us; Mrs. Throckmorton's piping bull-finch has been eaten by a rat, and the villain left nothing but poor Bully's beak behind him. It will be a wonder if this event does not, at some convenient time, employ my versifying passion. Did ever fair lady, from the Lesbia of Catullus to the present day, lose her bird and find no poet to commemorate the loss? W. C. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Nov. 30, 1788. YOUR letter, accompanying the books with which you have favoured me, and for which I return you a thousand thanks, did not arrive till yesterday. I shall have great pleasure in taking now and then a peep at my old friend Vincent Bourne; the neatest of all men in his versification, though when I was under his ushership, at Westminster, the most slovenly in his person. He was so inattentive to his boys, and so indifferent whether they brought him good or bad exercises, or none at all, that he seemed determined, as he was the best, so to be the last Latin poet of the Westminster line; a plot which, I believe, he executed very successfully; for I have not heard of any who has at all deserved to be compared with him. We have had hardly any rain or snow since you left us; the roads are accordingly as dry as in the middle of summer, and the opportunity of walking much more favourable. We have no season in my mind so pleasant as such a winter: I was shocked at what you tell me of and I account it particularly fortunate that such Superior talents, it seems, give no security for pro- it proves, my cousin being with us. She is in priety of conduct; on the contrary, having a nat- good health, and cheerful, so are we all; and this ural tendency to nourish pride, they often betray I say, knowing you will be glad to hear it, for you the possessor into such mistakes, as men more have seen the time when this could not be said of moderately gifted never commit. Ability there- all your friends at Weston. We shall rejoice to fore is not wisdom, and an ounce of grace is a bet-see you here at Christmas; but I recollected when ter guard against gross absurdity than the bright- I hinted such an excursion by word of mouth, you est talents in the world. gave me no great encouragement to expect you. I rejoice that you are prepared for transcript Minds alter, and yours may be of the number of work: here will be plenty for you. The day on those that do so; and if it should, you will be enwhich you shall receive this, I beg you will re-tirely welcome to us all. Were there no other member to drink one glass at least to the success reason for your coming than merely the pleasure of the Iliad, which I finished the day before yes- it will afford to us, that reason alone would be terday, and yesterday began the Odyssey. It will sufficient; but after so many toils, and with so be some time before I shall perceive myself travel- many more in prospect, it seems essential to your ing in another road; the objects around me are well-being that you should allow yourself a respite, at present so much the same; Olympus, and a council of gods, meet me at my first entrance. To tell you the truth, I am weary of heroes and deities, and, with reverence be it spoken, shall be glad for variety's sake, to exchange their company for that of a Cyclops. which perhaps you can take as comfortably (I am sure as quietly) here as any where. The ladies beg to be remembered to you with all possible esteem and regard; they are just come down to breakfast, and being at this moment extremely talkative, oblige me to put an end to my letter. Adieu. W. C. TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ. Weston-Underwood, Dec. 2, 1788. MY DEAR FRIEND, I TOLD You lately that I had an ambition to introduce to your acquaintance my valuable friend, Mr. Rose. He is now before you. You will find him a person of genteel manners and agreeable conversation. As to his other virtues and good qualities, which are many, and not often found in men of his years, I consign them over to your own discernment, perfectly sure that none will escape you. I give you joy of each other, and remain, my dear old friend, most truly yours, W. C. TO ROBERT SMITH, ESQ. Weston-Underwood, Dec. 20, 1788. MY DEAR SIR, TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAR SIR, The Lodge, Jan. 19, 1789. I am reading Sir John Hawkins, and still hold the same opinion of his book, as when you were here. There are in it, undoubtedly, some awkwardnesses of phrase, and, which is worse, here and there some unequivocal indications of a vanity not easily pardonable in a man of his years; but on the whole I find it amusing, and to me at least, to whom every thing that has passed in the literary world within these five-and-twenty years is new, sufficiently replete with information. Mr. Throckmorton told me about three days since, sible man, as a book that would give him great that it was lately recommended to him by a sen MRS. UNWIN is in tolerable health, and adds her warmest thanks to mine for your favour, and for your obliging inquiries. My own health is better than it has been for many years. Long time I had a stomach that would digest nothing, and now nothing disagrees with it; an amend ment for which I am, under God, indebted to the daily use of soluble tartar, which I have never omitted these two years. I am still, as you may suppose, occupied in my long labour. The Iliad insight into the history of modern literature, and modern men of letters, a commendation which I has nearly received its last polish. And I have advanced in a rough copy as far as to the ninth really think it merits. Fifty years hence, perbook of the Odyssey. My friends are some of haps, the world will feel itself obliged to him. them in haste to see the work printed, and my answer to them is-"I do nothing else, and this I do day and night-it must in time be finished." My thoughts, however, are not engaged to Homer only. I can not be so much a poet as not to feel greatly for the King, the Queen, and the country. My speculations on these subjects are indeed melancholy, for no such tragedy has befallen in my day. We are forbidden to trust in man; I will not therefore say I trust in Mr. Pitt: -but in his counsels, under the blessing of Providence, the remedy is, I believe, to be found, if a remedy there be. His integrity, firmness, and sagacity, are the only human means that seem adequate to the great emergence. You say nothing of your own health, of which I should have been happy to have heard favourably. May you long enjoy the best. Neither Mrs. Unwin nor myself have a sincerer, or a warmer wish, than for your felicity. I am, my dear sir, TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. W. C. MY DEAR SIR, The Lodge, Jan. 24, 1789. WE have heard from my cousin in Norfolkstreet; she reached home safely, and in good time. An observation suggests itself, which, though I have but little time for observation making, I must allow myself time to mention. Accidents, as we call them, generally occur when there seems least reason to expect them; if a friend of ours travels far in different roads, and at an unfavourable season, we are reasonably alarmed for the safety of one in whom we take so much interest; yet how seldom do we hear a tragical account of such a journey! It is, on the contrary, at home, in our yard or garden, perhaps in our parlour, that disaster finds us; in any place, in short, where we seem perfectly out of the reach of danger. The lesson inculcated by such a procedure on the part of Providence towards us seems to be that of perpetual dependence. W. C. Having preached this sermon, I must hasten to know not: but imagine that any time after the a close; you know that I am not idle, nor can I month of June you will be sure to find her with afford to be so. I would gladly spend more time us, which I mention, knowing that to meet you with you, but by some means or other this day will add a relish to all the pleasures she can find has hitherto proved a day of hindrance and confusion. W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. at Weston. When I wrote those lines on the Queen's visit, I thought I had performed well; but it belongs to me, as I have told you before, to dislike whatever I write when it has been written a month. The performance was therefore sinking in my esteem, when your approbation of it, arriving in good time, buoyed it up again. It will now keep possession of the place it holds in my good opinion, because it has been favoured with yours; and a copy will certainly be at your service whenever you choose to have one. Nothing is more certain than that when I wrote the line, God made the country, and man made the town, MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Jan. 29, 1789. I SHALL be a better, at least a more frequent correspondent, when I have done with Homer. I am not forgetful of any letters that I owe, and least of all forgetful of my debts in that way to you; on the contrary, I live in a continual state of self-reproach for not writing more punctually; but the old Grecian, whom I charge myself never o neglect, lest I should never finish him, has at present a voice that seems to drown all other demands, and many to which I could listen with I had not the least recollection of that very simore pleasure than even to his Os rotundum. Imilar one, which you quote from Hawkins Brown. am now in the eleventh book of the Odyssey, con- It convinces me that critics (and none more than versing with the dead. Invoke the Muse in my Warton, in his notes on Milton's minor poems), behalf, that I may roll the stone of Sisyphus with have often charged authors with borrowing what some success. To do it as Homer has done it is, they drew from their own fund. Brown was an I suppose, in our verse and language, impossible; entertaining companion when he had drunk his but I will hope not to labour altogether to as little bottle, but not before; this proved a snare to him, purpose as Sisyphus himself did. and he would sometimes drink too much; but I Though I meddle little with politics, and can know not that he was chargeable with any other find but little leisure to do so, the present state of irregularities. He had those among his intimates things unavoidably engages a share of my atten- who would not have been such had he been othertion. But as they say, Archimedes, when Syra- wise viciously inclined; the Duncombes, in particuse was taken, was found busied in the solution cular, father and son, who were of unblemished of a problem, so come what may, I shall be found morals. translating Homer. Sincerely yours, W. C. W. C. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAR SIR, TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAR FRIEND, The Lodge, June 5, 1789. I AM going to give you a deal of trouble, but London folks must be content to be troubled by The Lodge, May 20, 1789. country folks; for in London only can our strange FINDING myself, between twelve and one, at the necessities be supplied. You must buy for me, end of the seventeenth book of the Odyssey, I give if you please, a cuckoo clock; and now I will tell the interval between the present moment and the you where they are sold, which, Londoner as you time of walking, to you. If I write letters before are, it is possible you may not know. They are I sit down to Homer, I feel my spirits too flat for sold, I am informed, at more houses than one, in poetry; and too flat for letter writing if I address that narrow part of Holborn which leads into myself to Homer first; but the last I choose as the Broad St. Giles. It seems they are well going least evil, because my friends will pardon my dul- clocks, and cheap, which are the two best recomness, but the public will not. mendations of any clock. They are made in Ger I had been some days uneasy on your account, many, and such numbers of them are annually when yours arrived. We should have rejoiced to imported, that they are become even a considerable nave seen you, would your engagements have per- article of commerce. mitted: but in the autumn I hope, if not before, we I return you many thanks for Boswell's Tour. shall have the pleasure to receive you. At what I read it to Mrs. Unwin after supper, and we find time wo may expect Lady Hesketh, at present I it amusing. There is much trash in it, as there |