I said to my Sam*-" Sam, build me a shed in charming sonnets, and my two most agreeable old the garden, with any thing that you can find, and friends, Monimia and Orlando.

This I have felt more than once, and when I Instead of a pound or two, spending a mint saw my name at the head of your Dedication, I Must serve me at least, I believe, with a hint, felt it again; but the consummate delicacy of your That building, and building, a man may be driven praise soon convinced me that I might spare my At last out of doors, and have no house to live in. blushes, and that the demand was less upon my BESIDES, my dearest brother, they have not only modesty than my gratitude. Of that be assured, built for me what I did not want, but have ruined dear madam, and of the truest esteem and respect a notable tetrastic by doing so. I had written one of your most obliged and affectionate humble servant, W.C.

that I am not actually in possession of it, at least you are not gone for ever, as once I supposed you of the engravings which you mention. In fact, I were, and said that we should probably meet no have had them more than a fortnight. Lady more. Some news, however, we have; but then Dowager Spencer, to whom I inscribed my Odys- I conclude that you have already received it from sey, and who was at Rome when Sir John the Doctor, and that thought almost deprives me Throckmorton was there, charged him with them of all courage to relate it. On the evening of the as a present to me, and arriving here lately he feast, Bob Archer's house affording I suppose the executed his commission. Romney I doubt not is best room for the purpose, all the lads and lasses, right in his judgment of tnem; he is an artist him- who felt themselves disposed to dance, assembled self, and can not easily be mistaken; and I take there. Long time they danced, at least long time his opinion as an oracle, the rather because it they did something a little like it; when at last coincides exactly with my own. The figures are the company having retired, the fiddler asked Bob highly classical, antique, and elegant: especially for a lodging. Bob replied "that his beds were that of Penelope, who whether she wakes or sleeps all full of his own family, but if he chose it he must necessarily charm all beholders. would show him a haycock, where he might sleep Your scheme of embellishing my Odyssey with as sound as in any bed whatever."-So forth they these plates is a kind one, and the fruit of your went together, and when they reached the place, benevolence to me; but Johnson, I fear, will hardly the fiddler knocked down Bob, and demanded his stake so much money as the cost would amount money. But happily for Bob, though he might be to on a work, the fate of which is at present uncertain. Nor could we adorn the Odyssey in this splendid manner, unless we had similar ornaments to bestow on the Iliad. Such I presume are not ready, and much time must elapse, even if Flaxman should accede to the plan, before he could possibly prepare them. Happy indeed should I be to see a work of mine so nobly accompanied, but should that good fortune ever attend me, it can not take place till the third or fourth edition Odyssey figures which Lady Frog brought over, shall afford the occasion. This I regret, and I regret too that you shall have seen them before I can have an opportunity to show them to you. Here is sixpence for you if you will abstain from the sight of them while you are in London.

The sculptor? Nameless, though once dear to fame;
But this man bears an everlasting name.*

So I purpose it shall stand; and on the pedestal, when you come, in that form you will find it. The added line from the Odyssey is charming, but the assumption of sonship to Homer seems too daring; suppose it stood thus,

Ως δε παις ῳ πατρι, και εποτε λήσομαι αυτό. I am not sure that this would be clear of the same objection, and it departs from the text still more. With my poor Mary's best love and our united wishes to see you here, I remain,

My dearest brother, ever yours, W.C.

knocked down, and actually was so, yet he could not possibly be robbed, having nothing. The fiddler therefore having amused himself with kicking him and beating him as he lay, as long as he saw good, left him, and has never been heard of since, nor inquired after indeed, being no doubt the last man in the world whom Bob wishes to see again. By a letter from Hayley to-day I learn that Flaxman, to whom we are indebted for those

has almost finished a set for the Iliad also. I should be glad to embellish my Homer with them, but neither my bookseller nor I shall probably choose to risk so expensive an ornament on a work, whose reception with the public is at present doubtful.

Adieu, my dearest Catharina. Give my best love to your husband. Come home as soon as you can, and accept our united very best wishes.

W. C.

TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAREST FRIEND, Weston, Aug. 22, 1793. I REJOICE that you have had so pleasant an excursion, and have beheld so many beautiful scenes. Except the delightful Upway I have seen them all. I have lived much at Southampton, have slept and caught a sore throat at Lyndhurst, and have swum in the bay of Weymouth. It will give us great pleasure to see you here, should your business give you an opportunity to finish your excursions of this season with one to Weston.

As for my going on, it is much as usual. I rise from which I have never swerved since March. at six; an industrious and wholesome practice, I breakfast generally about eleven-have given all the intermediate time to my old delightful bard Vil.

loison no longer keeps me company. I therefore days give you a hint to lose no time unnecessarily. now jog along with Clarke and Barnes at my el-Lately we had the whole family at the Hall, and bow, and from the excellent annotations of the now we have nobody. The Throckmortons are former select such as I think likely to be useful, or gone into Berkshire, and the Courtenays into that recommend themselves by the amusement Yorkshire. They are so pleasant a family, that I they may afford, of which sorts there are not a heartily wish you to see them; and at the same few. Barnes also affords me some of both kinds, time wish to see you before they return, which but not so many, his notes being chiefly para-will not be sooner than October. How shall I rephrastical or grammatical. My only fear is lest concile these wishes seemingly opposite? Why, between them both I should make my work too by wishing that you may come soon and stay long. I know no other way of doing it.

the Gibbonian oracle on the question concerning It makes altogether a very smart and learned apHomer's muse, and his blindness. I proposed it pearance. likewise to my little neighbour Buchanan, who gave me precisely the same answer. I felt an insatiable thirst to learn something new concerning him, and despairing of information from others, was willing to hope that I had stumbled on matter unnoticed by the commentators, and might per- YOUR question, at what time your coming to us haps acquire a little intelligence from himself. But will be most agreeable, is a knotty one, and such the great and the little oracle together have extin-as, had I the wisdom of Solomon, I should be puzguished that hope, and I despair now of making any curious discoveries about him.

And now, my dear, adieu! 1 have done more than I expected, and begin to feel myself exhaustYou say nothing lately of your intended journey ed with so much scribbling at the end of four hours' our way: yet the year is waning, and the shorter close application to study.

TO THE REV. JOHN JOHNSON.

MY DEAREST JOHNNY,

1

one.

that, after all, the transcript of alterations, which you and George have made, will not be a perfect It would be foolish to forego an opportunity of improvement for such a reason; neither will I. It is ten o'clock, and I must breakfast. Adieu, therefore, my dear Johnny! Remember your appointment to see us in October. Ever yours,

W. C.

TO WILLIAM HALEY, ESQ.
Weston, Sept. 8, 1793.

nelope, and though you don't deserve that I should, will send you a few lines, such as they are, with which she inspired me the other day, while I was taking my noon-day walk.

Weston, Sept. 6, 1793. '1') do a kind thing, and in a kind manner, is a double kindness, and no man is more addicted to both than you, or more skilful in contriving them. Your plan to surprise me agreeably succeeded to admiration. It was only the day before yesterday that, while we walked after dinner in the orchard, Mrs. Unwin between Sam and me, hearing the hall clock, I observed a great difference between that and ours, and began immediately to lament as I had often done, that there was not a sun-dial in Non sum quod simulo, my dearest brother! I all Weston to ascertain the true time for us. My seem cheerful upon paper sometimes, when I am complaint was long, and lasted till having turned absolutely the most dejected of all creatures. Deinto the grass walk, we reached the new building sirous however to gain something myself by my at the end of it; where we sat awhile and reposed own letters, unprofitable as they may and must be ourselves. In a few minutes we returned by the to my friends, I keep melancholy out of them as way we came, when what think you was my as much as I can, that I may, if possible, by assuming tonishment to see what I had not seen before, a less gloomy air, deceive myself, and, by feigning though I had passed close by it, a smart sun-dial with a continuance, improve the fiction into reality. mounted on a smart stone pedestal! I assure you So you have seen Flaxman's figures, which I it seemed the effect of conjuration. I stopped intended you should not have seen till I had spread short, and exclaimed,-" Why, here is a sun-dial, them before you. How did you dare to look at and upon our ground! How is this? Tell me them? You should have covered your eyes with Sam, how came it here? Do you know any thing both hands. I am charmed with Flaxman's Peabout it?" At first I really thought (that is to say, as soon as I could think at all) that this factotum of mine, Sam Roberts, having often heard me deplore the want of one, had given orders for the supply of that want himself, without my know- I know not that you will meet any body here, ledge, and was half pleased and half offended. But when we see you in October, unless perhaps my he soon exculpated himself by imputing the fact Johnny should happen to be with us. If Tom is to you. It was brought up to Weston (it seems) charmed with the thoughts of coming to Weston, about noon: but Andrews stopped the cart at the we are equally so with the thoughts of seeing him blacksmith's, whence he sent to inquire if I was here. At his years, I should hardly hope to make gone for my walk. As it happened, I walked not his visit agreeable to him, did I not know that he till two o'clock. So there it stood waiting till I is of a temper and disposition that must make him should go forth, and was introduced before my happy every where. Give our love to him. If return. Fortunately too I went out at the church Romney can come with you, we have both room end of the village, and consequently saw nothing to receive him, and hearts to make him most welof it. How I could possibly pass it without seeing come. W.C. it, when it stood in the walk, I know not, but it is certain that I did. And where I shall fix it now, I know as little. It cannot stand between the two gates, the place of your choice, as I understand. from Samuel, because the hay-cart must pass that way in the season. But we are now busy in wind- A THOUSAND thanks, my dearest Catharina, for ing the walk all round the orchard, and in doing your pleasant letter; one of the pleasantest that I so shall doubtless stumble at last upon some open have received since your departure. You are very spot that will suit it. good to apologize for your delay, but I had not There it shal. stand, while I live, a constant flattered myself with the hopes of a speedier auinonument of your kindness. swer. Knowing full well your talents for enter taining your friends who are present, I was sure you would with difliculty find half an hour that you could devote to an absent one.

I have this moment finished the twelfth book of the Odyssey; and I read the Iliad to Mrs. Unwin every evening.

TO MRS. COURTENA 1
Sept. 15, 1795.

The effect of this reading is, that I still spy I am glad that you think of your return. Poor blemishes, sʊmething at least that I can mend, so, Weston is a desolation without you. In the mean

time I amuse myself as well as I can, thrumming| Here you will meet Mr. Rose, who comes on old Homer's lyre, and turning the premises upside the eighth, and brings with him Mr. Lawrence, down. Upside down indeed, for so it is literally the painter, you may guess for what purpose. that I have been dealing with the orchard, almost Lawrence returns when he has made his copy of ever since you went, digging and delving it around me, but Mr. Rose will remain perhaps as long as to make a new walk, which now begins to assume you will. Hayley on the contrary will come, I the shape of one, and to look as if some time or suspose, just in time not to see you. Him we exother it may serve in that capacity. Taking my pect on the twentieth. I trust however, that thou usual exercise there the other day with Mrs. Un-wilt so order thy pastoral matters, as to make thy win, a wide disagreement between your clock and stay here as long as possible.

ours, occasioned me to complain much, as I have

Lady Hesketh, in her last letter, inquires very often done, of the want of a dial. Guess my sur- kindly after you, asks me for your address, and prise, when at the close of my complaint I saw purposes soon to write to you. We hope to see one-saw one close at my side; a smart one, glit- her in November-so that after a summer without tering in the sun, and mounted on a pedestal of company, we are likely to have an autumn and a stone. I was astonished. This," I exclaimed, winter sociable enough. W. C.

"is absolute conjuration!" It was a most mysterious affair, but the mystery was at last explained. This scribble I presume will find you just arrived at Bucklands. I would with all my heart that since dials can be thus suddenly conjured from one place to another, I could be so too, and could start up before your eyes in the middle of some walk or lawn, where you and Lady Frog are wandering.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.

Weston, Oct. 5, 1793. My good intentions towards you, my dearest brother, are continually frustrated; and which is most provoking, not by such engagements and avocations as have a right to my attention, such as While Pitcairne whistles for his family estate those to my Mary, and to the old bard of Greece, in Fifeshire, he will do well if he will sound a few but by mere impertinences, such as calls of civility notes for me. I am originally of the same shire, from persons not very interesting to me, and letand a family of my name is still there, to whom ters from a distance still less interesting, because perhaps he way whistle on my behalf, not alto- the writers of them are strangers. A man sent gether in vain. So shall his fife excel all my po- me a long copy of verses, which I could do no etical efforts, which have not yet, and I dare say less than acknowledge. They were silly enough, never will, effectually charm one acre of ground and cost me eighteen pence, which was seventeen into my possession. pence halfpenny farthing more than they were Remember me to Sir John, Lady Frog, and worth. Another sent me at the same time a plan, your husband-tell them I love them all. She requesting my opinion of it, and that I would lend told me once she was jealous, now indeed she him my name as editor; a request with which I seems to have some reasons, since to her I have shall not comply, but I am obliged to tell him so, not written, and have written twice to you. But and one letter is all that I have time to despatch bid her be of good courage, in due time I will give in a day, sometimes half a one, and sometimes I her proof of my constancy. W. C. am not able to write at all. Thus it is that my time perishes, and I can neither give so much of it as I would to you or to any other valuable purpose.

TO THE REV. JOHN JOHNSON.

Weston, Sept. 29, 1793.

On Tuesday we expect company, Mr. Rose and Lawrence the painter. Yet once more is my MY DEAREST JOHNNY, patience to be exercised, and once more I am You have done well to leave off visiting, and made to wish that my face had been moveable, being visited. Visits are insatiable devourers of to put on and take off at pleasure, so as to be portime, and fit only for those who, if they did not table in a bandbox, and sent to the artist. These that, would do nothing. The worst consequence however will be gone, as I believe I told you, beof such departures from common practice is to be fore you arrive, at which time I know not that termed a singular sort of a fellow, or an odd fish; any body will be here, except my Johnny, whose a sort of reproach that a man might be wise presence will not at all interfere with our readenough to condemn, who had not half your un-ings-you will not, I believe, find me a very derstanding.

I look forward with pleasure to October the eleventh, the day which I expect will be Albo notandus lapillo, on account of your arrival here.

slashing critic-I hardly indeed expect to find any thing in your life of Milton that I shall sentence to amputation. How should it be too long? A well written work, sensible and spirited, such as K