mortality, which he publishes at Christmas, a You say well, my dear, that in Mr. Throck copy of verses. You would do me a great favour, morton we have a peerless neighbour; we have so. sir, if you would furnish me with one." To this In point of information upon all important subjects. I replied, "Mr. C. you have several men of genius in respect too of expression and address, and in in your town, why have you not applied to some short, every thing that enters into the idea of a genof them? There is a namesake of yours in parti- tleman, I have not found his equal, not often, any cular, C―, the statuary, who, every body knows, where. Were I asked who in my judgment apis a first-rate maker of verses. He surely is the proaches nearest to him, in all his amiable qualiman of all the world for your purpose."-"Alas! ties, and qualifications, I should certainly answer Sir, I have heretofore borrowed help from him, his brother George, who if he be not his exact but he is a gentleman of so much reading, that counterpart, endued with precisely the same meathe people of our town can not understand him." sure of the same accomplishments, is nevertheless I confess to you, my dear, I felt all the force of the deficient in none of them, and is of a character compliment implied in this speech, and was al- singularly agreeable, in respect of a certain manly, most ready to answer, Perhaps, my good friend, I had almost said, heroic frankness, with which they may find me unintelligible too for the same his air strikes one almost immediately. So far as reason. But on asking him whether he had walked his opportunities have gone, he has ever been as over to Weston on purpose to implore the assist-friendly and obliging to us, as we could wish him, ance of my muse, and on his replying in the af- and were he lord of the Hall to-morrow, would I firmative, I felt my mortified vanity a little con- dare say conduct himself toward us in such a mansoled, and pitying the poor man's distress, which ner, as to leave us as little sensible as possible appeared to be considerable, promised to supply of the removal of its present owners. But all this him. The wagon has accordingly gone this day I say, my dear, merely for the sake of stating the to Northampton loaded in part with my effusions matter as it is; not in order to obviate, or to prove in the mortuary style. A fig for poets who write the inexpedience of any future plans of yours, epitaphs upon individuals! I have written one concerning the place of our residence. Providence that serves two hundred persons. and time shape every thing; I should rather say Providence alone, for time has often no hand in the wonderful changes that we experience; they take place in a moment. It is not therefore worth while perhaps to consider much what we will, or will not do in years to come, concerning which all that I can say with certainty at present is, that those years will be to me the most welcome, in which I can see the most of you. W. C. A few days since I received a second very obliging letter from Mr. M. He tells me that his own papers, which are by far, he is sorry to say it, the most numerous, are marked V.I.Z. Accordingly, my dear, I am happy to find that I am engaged in a correspondence with Mr. Viz, a gentleman for whom I have always entertained the profoundest veneration. But the serious fact is, that the papers distinguished by those signatures have ever pleased me most, and struck me as the work of a sensible man, who knows the world well, and has more of Addison's delicate humour than any body. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Dec. 6, 1787. A poor man begged food at the Hall lately. A SHORT time since, by the help of Mrs. ThrockThe cook gave him some vermicelli soup. He morton's chaise, Mrs. Unwin and I reached ladled it about some time with the spoon, and then Chicheley. "Now," said I to Mrs. Chester, "I returned it to her saying, "I am a poor man it is shall write boldly to your brother Walter, and true, and I am very hungry, but yet I can not eat will do it immediately. I have passed the gulf broth with maggots in it." Once more, my dear, that parted us, and he will be glad to hear it." a thousand thanks for your box full of good things, But let not the man who translates Homer be so useful things, and beautiful things. presumptuous as to have a will of his own, or to promise any thing. A fortnight, I suppose, has elapsed since I paid this visit, and I am only now beginning to fulfil what I then undertook to accomplish without delay. The old Grecian must answer for it. Yours ever, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. The Lodge, Dec. 4, 1787. I AM glad, my dearest coz, that my last letter proved so diverting. You may assure yourself of the literal truth of the whole narration, and that however droll, it was not in the least indebted to any embellishments of mine. I spent my morning there so agreeably, that I have ever since regretted more sensibly, that there are five miles of a dirty country interposed between us. For the increase of my pleasure, I had the good fortune to find your brother the bishop there. We had much talk about many things, but most. I believe, about Homer; and great satisfaction it because, as Hopkins answers, we must have regave me to find, that on the most important points fused it. But it fell out singularly enough, that of that subject his lordship and I were exactly this ball was held, of all days in the year, on my of one mind. In the course of our conversation birth day-and so I told them-but not till it was he produced from his pocket-book a translation all over. So. of the first ten or twelve lines of the Iliad, and in Though I have thought proper never to take The awkward situation in which you found I am, my dear friend, faithfully yours, W. C. partly for the same reason (Deuce take the smith I THANK you for the snip of cloth, commonly you that I should prove a very unpunctual correscalled a pattern. At present I have two coats, pondent. The work that lies before me engages and but one back. If at any time hereafter I unavoidably my whole attention. The length of should find myself possessed of fewer coats, or more it, the spirit of it, and the exactness that is requibacks, it will be of use to me. site in its due performance, are so many most inEven as you suspect, my dear, so it proved. teresting subjects of consideration to me, who find The ball was prepared for, the ball was held, and that my best attempts are only introductory to the ball passed, and we had nothing to do with it. others, and that what to day I suppose finished, Mrs. Throckmorton, knowing our trim, did not to-morrow I must begin again. Thus it fares give us the pain of an invitation, for a pain it with a translator of Homer. To exhibit the mawould have been. And why? as Sternhold says,-'jesty of such a poet in a modern language is a the task that no man can estimate the difficulty of till | he attempts it. To paraphrase him loosely, to TO LADY HESKETH. hang him with trappings that do not belong to him, The Lodge, Jan. 1, 1788. all this is comparatively easy. But to represent Now for another story almost incredible! A him with only his own ornaments, and still to pre-story that would be quite such, if it was not cerserve his dignity, is a labour that, if I hope in any tain that you give me credit for any thing. I measure to achieve it, I am sensible can only be have read the poem for the sake of which you achieved by the most assiduous, and most unre- sent the paper, and was much entertained by it. mitting attention. Our studies, however different You think it perhaps, as very well you may, in themselves, in respect of the means by which only piece of that kind that was ever produced. they are to be successfully carried on, bear some It is indeed original, for I dare say Mr. Merry resemblance to each other. A perseverance that never saw mine; but certainly it is not unique. nothing can discourage, a minuteness of observa- For most true it is, my dear, that ten years since, tion that suffers nothing to escape, and a determi- having a letter to write to a friend of mine, to nation not to be seduced from the straight line that whom I could write any thing, I filled a whole lies before us, by any images with which fancy sheet with a composition, both in measure and may present us, are essentials that should be com- in manner precisely similar. I have in vain mon to us both. There are perhaps few arduous searched for it. It is either burnt or lost. Could undertakings, that are not in fact more arduous I have found it, you would have had double postthan we at first supposed them. As we proceed, age to pay. For that one man in Italy, and anodifficulties increase upon us, but our hopes gather ther in England, who never saw each other, strength also, and we conquer difficulties which, should stumble on a species of verse, in which no could we have foreseen them, we should never have other man ever wrote (and I believe that to be the had the boldness to encounter. May this be your case) and upon a style and manner too, of which, experience, as I doubt not that it will. You pos- I suppose, that neither of them had ever seen an sess by nature all that is necessary to success in example, appears to me so extraordinary a fact, the profession that you have chosen. What re- that I must have sent you mine, whatever it had mains is in your own power. They say of poets, cost you, and am really vexed that I can not authat they must be born such: so must mathemati-thenticate the story by producing a voucher. cians, so must great generals, and so must law- The measure I recollect to have been perfectly yers, and so indeed must men of all denominations, the same, and as to the manner I am equally sure or it is not possible that they should excel. But of that, and from this circumstance, that Mrs. with whatever faculties we are born, and to what- Unwin and I never laughed more at any producever studies our genius may direct us, studies they must still be. I am persuaded, that Milton did not write his Paradise Lost, nor Homer his Iliad, nor Newton his Principia, without immense labour. Nature gave them a bias to their respective pursuits, and that strong propensity, I suppose, is what we mean by genius. The rest they gave themselves. "Macte esto," therefore, have no fears for the issue! tion of mine, perhaps not even at John Gilpin. But for all this, my dear, you must, as I said, give me credit; for the thing itself is gone to that limbo of vanity, where alone, says Milton, things lost on earth are to be met with. Said limbo is, as you know, in the moon, whither I could not at present convey myself without a good deal of difficulty and inconvenience. This morning being the morning of new year's I have had a second kind letter from your friend day, I sent to the hall a copy of verses, addressed Mr., which I have just answered. I must to Mrs. Throckmorton, entitled, the Wish, or the not I find hope to see him here, at least I must Poet's New Year's Gift. We dine there to-mornot much expect it. He has a family that does row, when, I suppose, I shall hear news of them. not permit him to fly southward. I have also a Their kindness is so great, and they seize with notion, that we three could spend a few days com- such eagerness every opportunity of doing all fortably together, especially in a country like this, they think will please us, that I held myself alabounding in scenes with which I am sure you most in duty bound to treat them with this stroke would both be delighted. Having lived till lately of my profession. at some distance from the spot that I now inhabit, The small pox has done, I believe, all that is and having never been master of any sort of ve- has to do at Weston. Old folks, and even women hicle whatever, it is but just now that I begin my-with child, have been inoculated. We talk of self to be acquainted with the beauties of our situ- our freedom, and some of us are free enough, but ation. To you I may hope, one time or other, to not the poor. Dependant as they are upon parish show them, and shall be happy to do it, when an bounty, they are sometimes obliged to submit to opportunity offers. impositions, which perhaps in France itself could hardly be paralleled. Can man or woman be said Yours, most affectionately, W. C. to be free, who is commanded to take a distemper, | On all other occasions I prune with an unsparing sometimes at least mortal, and in circumstances hand, determined that there shall not be found in most likely to make it so? No circumstance what-the whole translation an idea that is not Homer's. ever was permitted to exempt the inhabitants of My ambition is to produce the closest copy possiWeston. The old as well as the young, and the ble, and at the same time as harmonious as I pregnant as well as they who had only themselves know how to make it. This being my object, you within them, have been inoculated. Were I ask- will no longer think, if indeed you have thought ed who is the most arbitrary sovereign on earth? it at all, that I am unnecessarily and over much I should answer, neither the king of France, nor industrious. The original surpasses every thing; the grand signor, but an overseer of the poor in it is of an immense length, is composed in the England. best language ever used upon earth, and deserves, I am as heretofore occupied with Homer: my indeed demands all the labour that any translator, present occupation is the revisal of all I have be he who he may, can possibly bestow on it. Of done, viz. of the first fifteen books. I stand this I am sure, and your brother the good bishop amazed at my own increasing dexterity in the is of the same mind, that, at present, mere Engbusiness, being verily persuaded that, as far as I have gone, I have improved the work to double its former value. That you may begin the new year and end it in all health and happiness, and many more when the present shall have been long an old one, is the ardent wish of Mrs. Unwin, and of yours, my dearest coz, most cordially, W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Jan 5, 1788. lish readers know no more of Homer in reality, than if he had never been translated. That consideration indeed it was, which mainly induced me to the undertaking; and if after all, either through idleness, or dotage upon what I have already done, I leave it chargeable with the same incorrectness as my predecessors, or indeed with any other that I may be able to amend, I had better have amused myself otherwise. And you I know are of my opinion. I send you the clerk's verses, of which I told you. They are very clerklike, as you will perceive. But plain truth in plain words seemed to I THANK you for your information concerning me to be the ne plus ultra of composition on such the author of the translation of those lines. Had an occasion. I might have attempted something a man of less note and ability than Lord Bagot very fine, but then the persons principally concernproduced it, I should have been discouraged. As ed, viz. my readers, would not have understood me. it is, I comfort myself with the thought, that even If it puts them in mind that they are mortal, its he accounted it an achievement worthy of his best end is answered. My dear Walter, adieu! powers, and that even he found it difficult. Though I never had the honour to be known to his lordship, I remember him well at Westminster, and the reputation in which he stood there. Since that time I have never seen him, except once, many years ago, in the House of Commons, when I heard him speak on the subject of a drainage bill better than any member there. Yours faithfully, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. The Lodge, Jan. 19, 1788. WHEN I have prose enough to fill my paper, which is always the case when I write to you, I My first thirteen books have been criticised in can not find in my heart to give a third part of it London; have been by me accommodated to those to verse. Yet this I must do, or I must make my criticisms, returned to London in their improved pacquets more costly than worshipful, by doubling state, and sent back to Weston with an impri- the postage upon you, which I should hold to be mantur. This would satisfy some poets less anxi- unreasonable. See then the true reason why I did ous than myself about what they expose in public; not send you that same scribblement till you debut it has not satisfied me. I am now revising sired it. The thought which naturally presents them again by the light of my own critical taper, and make more alterations than at the first. But are they improvements? you will ask-Is not the spirit of the work endangered by all this attention to correctness? I think and hope that it is not. Fine things indeed I have few. He who has Being well aware of the possibility of such a ca- Homer to transcribe may well be contented to do tastrophe, I guard particularly against it. Where little else. As when an ass, being harnessed with I find that a servile adherence to the original would ropes to a sand cart, drags with hanging ears his render the passage less animated than it should heavy burthen, neither filling the long echoing be, I still, as at the first, allow myself a liberty. streets with his harmonious bray, nor throwing up itself to me on all such occasions is this-Is not your cousin coming? Why are you impatient? Will it not be time enough to show her your fine things when she arrives? his heels behind, frolicksome and airy, as asses less advice, my dear, but not easily taken by a man engaged are wont to do; so I, satisfied to find my- circumstanced as I am. I have learned in the self indispensably obliged to render into the best school of adversity, a school from which I have no possible English metre eight and forty Greek books, expectation that I shall ever be dismissed, to apof which the two finest poems in the world consist, prehend the worst, and have ever found it the onaccount it quite sufficient if I may at last achieve ly course in which I can indulge myself without that labour; and seldom allow myself those pretty the least danger of incurring a disappointment. little vagaries, in which I should otherwise delight, This kind of experience, continued through and of which, if I should live long enough, I in- many years, has given me such an habitual bias to tend hereafter to enjoy my fill. the gloomy side of every thing, that I never have This is the reason, my dear cousin, if I may be a moment's ease on any subject to which I am not permitted to call you so in the same breath with indifferent. How then can I be easy, when I am which I have uttered this truly heroic comparison, left afloat upon a sea of endless conjectures of this is the reason why I produce at present but few which you furnish the occasion? Write I beseech occasional poems, and the preceding reason is that you, and do not forget that I am now a battered which may account satisfactorily enough for my actor upon this turbulent stage; that what little withholding the very few that I do produce. A vigour of mind I ever had, of the self-supporting thought sometimes strikes me before I rise; if it runs readily into verse, and I can finish it before breakfast, it is well; otherwise it dies, and is forgotten; for all the subsequent hours are devoted to Homer. The day before yesterday, I saw for the first time Bunbury's new print, the Propagation of a Lie. Mr. Throckmorton sent it for the amusement of our party. Bunbury sells humour by the yard, and is, I suppose, the first vender of it who ever did so. He can not, therefore, be said to have humour without measure (pardon a pun, my dear, from a man who has not made one before these forty years) though he may certainly be said to be immeasurably droll. kind I mean, has long since been broken; and that though I can bear nothing well, yet any thing better than a state of ignorance concerning your welfare. I have spent hours in the night leaning upon my elbow and wondering what your silence means. I entreat you once more to put an end to these speculations, which cost me more animal spirits than I can spare; if you can not without great trouble to yourself, which in your situation may very possibly be the case, contrive opportunities of writing so frequently as usual, only say it, and I am content. I will wait, if you desire it, as long for every letter, but then let them arrive at the period once fixed, exactly at the time, for my patience will not hold out an hour beyond it. W.C TO LADY HESKETH. The original thought is good, and the exemplification of it, in those very expressive figures, admirable. A poem on the same subject, displaying all that is displayed in those attitudes, and in those features, (for faces they can hardly be called) would The Lodge, Feb. 1, 1788. be most excellent. The affinity of the two arts, PARDON me, my dearest cousin, the mournful viz. verse and painting, has been observed; possi- ditty that I sent you last. There are times when bly the happiest illustration of it would be found, I see every thing through a medium that distressif some poet would ally himself to some draughts-es me to an insupportable degree, and that letter man, as Bunbury, and undertake to write every was written in one of them. A fog that had for thing he should draw. Then let a musician be three days obliterated all the beauties of Weston, admitted of the party. He should compose the and a north-east wind, might possibly contribute said poem, adapting notes to it exactly accommodated to the theme; so should the sister arts be proved to be indeed sisters, and the world die of laughing. TO LADY HESKETH. W. C. not a little to the melancholy that indited it. But my mind is now easy, your letter has made it so, and I feel myself as blithe as a bird in comparison. I love you, my cousin, and can not suspect, either with or without cause, the least evil in which you may be concerned, without being greatly troubled! Oh trouble! the portion of all mortals-but mine in particular. Would I had never known thee, or could bid thee farewell for ever; for I meet thee at every turn, my pillows are stuffed with thee, my very roses smell of thee, and even my cousin, who would cure me of all trouble if she could, is sometimes innocently the cause of trouble to me. MY DEAREST COUSIN, The Lodge, Jan. 30, 1788. IT is a fortnight since I heard from you, that is to say, a week longer than you have accustomed me to wait for a letter. I do not forget that you have recommended it to me, on occasions somewhat similar, to banish all anxiety, and to ascribe your I now see the unreasonableness of my late trousilence only to the interruptions of company. Good ble, and would, if I could trust myself so far. pro |