than hope, in some of my melancholy moods, that England herself may escape a fracture. I remain, truly yours, W. C. TO THE REV. MR. HURDIS. Weston, Nov. 24, 1793. My dear Sir-Though my congratulations have been delayed, you have no friend, numerous as your friends are, who has more sincerely rejoiced in your success than I. It was no small mortification to me, to find that three out of the six whom I had engaged were not qualified to vote. You have prevailed, however, and by a considerable majority; there is, therefore, no room left for regret. When your short note arrived, which gave me the agree able news of your victory, our friend of Eartham was with me, and shared largely in the joy that I felt on the occasion. He left me but a few days since, having spent somewhat more than a fortnight here; during which time we employed all our leisure hours in the revisal of his Life of Milton. It is now finished, and a very finished work it is; and one that will do great honour, I am persuaded, to the biographer, and the excellent man of injured memory, who is the subject of it. As to my own concern with the works of this first of poets, which has been long a matter of burthensome contemplation, I have the happiness to find at last that I am at liberty to postpone my labours. While I expected that my commentary would be called for in the ensuing spring, I looked forward to the undertaking with dismay, not seeing a shadow of probability that I should be ready to answer the demand; for this ultimate revisal of my Homer, together with the notes, occupies completely at present (and will for some time longer) all the little leisure that I have for study-leisure which I gain at this season of the year by rising long before daylight. You are now become a nearer neighbour, and, as your professorship, I hope, will not engross you wholly, will find an opportunity to give me your company at Weston. Let me hear from you soon; tell me how you like your new office, and whether you perform the duties of it with pleasure to yourself. With much pleasure to others you will, I doubt not, and with equal advantage. W. C. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. Weston, Nov. 29, 1793. My dear Friend-I have risen, while the owls are still hooting, to pursue my accustomed labours in the mine of Homer; but, before I enter upon them, shall give the first moment of daylight to the purpose of thanking you for your last letter, containing many pleasant articles of intelligence, with nothing to abate the pleasantness of them, except the single circumstance that we are not likely to see you here so soon as I expected. My hope was, that the first frost would bring you and the amiable painter with you.* If, however, you are prevented by the business of your respective professions, you are well prevented, and I will endeavour to be patient. When the latter was here, he mentioned one day the subject of Diomede's horses, driven under the axle of his chariot by the thunderbolt which fell at their feet, as a subject for his pencil.t It is certainly a noble one, and therefore worthy of his study and attention. It occurred to me at the moment, but I know not what it was that made me forget it again the next moment, that the horses of Achilles flying over the foss, with Patroclus and Automedon in the chariot, would be a good companion for it. I Should you happen to recollect this, when you next see him, you may submit it, if you please, to his consideration. I stumbled yesterday on another subject, which reminded me of said excellent artist, as likely to afford a fine opportunity to the expression that he could give it. is found in the shooting match in the twenty-third book of the Iliad, between Meriones and Teucer. The former cuts the string with which the dove is tied to the mast-head, and sets her at liberty; * Lawrence. † He, thund'ring downward hurl'd his candent bolt The flaming sulphur, and both horses drove It Under the axle. Cowper's Version, book viii. Right o'er the hollow foss the coursers leap'd, By the immortal gods to Peleus given.— Cowper's Version, book xvi. the latter, standing at his side, in all the eagerness of emulation, points an arrow at the mark with his right hand, while with his left he snatches the bow from his competitor: he is a fine poetical figure, but Mr. Lawrence himself must judge whether or not he promises as well for the canvas.* He does great honour to my physiognomy by his intention to get it engraved, and, though I think I foresee that this private publication will grow in time into a publication of absolute publicity, I find it impossible to be dissatisfied with any thing that seems eligible both to him and you. truth, when a man has once turned his To say the mind inside out for the inspection of all who choose to inspect it, to make a secret of his face seems but little better than a self-contradiction. At the same time, however, I shall be best pleased if it be kept, according to your intentions, as a rarity. Cowper here inverts the order of the names, and atto Teucer, what in the original is ascribed to tributes Meriones. At once Meriones withdrew the bow From Teucer's hand, but held the shaft the while, ..... He ey'd the dove aloft beneath a cloud, And struck her circling high in air; the shaft She, perching on the mast again, her head But, soon expiring, dropp'd and fell remote. The concluding lines of this passage convey a beautiful and affecting image. I have lost Hayley, and begin to be uneasy at not hearing from him; tell me about him when you write. I should be happy to have a work of mine embellished by Lawrence, and made a companion for a work of Hayley's. It is an event to which I look forward with the utmost complacence. I cannot what a relief I feel it not to be pressed for tell you Milton. W. C. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. Weston, Dec. 8, 1793. My dear Friend-In my last I forgot to thank you for the box of books, containing also the pamphlets. We have read, that is to say, my Cousin has, who reads to us in an evening, the history of Jonathan Wild ;* and found it highly entertaining. The satire on great men is witty, and I believe perfectly just: we have no censure to pass on it, unless that we think the character of Mrs. Heartfree not well sustained; not quite delicate in the latter part of it; and that the constant effect of her charms upon every man who sees her has a sameness in it that is tiresome, and betrays either much carelessness, or idleness, or lack of invention. It is possible, indeed, that the author might intend by this circumstance, a satirical glance at novelists, whose heroines are generally all bewitching; but it * A production of Fielding's. |