That the allusion in the former part of the letter may be better understood, it is necessary to state, that Lady Hesketh had lent a manuscript poem of Cowper's to her friend Miss Fanshaw, with an injunction that she should neither show it nor take a copy. This promise was violated, and the reason assigned. is expressed by the young lady in the following verses.

What wonder if my wavering hand
Had dared to disobey,

When Hesketh gave a harsh command,
And Cowper led astray?

Then take this tempting gift of thine,
By pen uncopied yet;
But, canst thou memory confine,
Or teach me to forget?

More lasting than the touch of art
The characters remain,
When written by a feeling heart
On tablets of the brain.

COWPER'S REPLY.

To be remembered thus is fame,
And in the first degree;
And did the few like her the same,
The press might rest for me.

So Homer, in the memory stored
Of many a Grecian belle,
Was once preserved-a richer hoard,
But never lodged so well.

You must not suppose me ignorant of what Flaxman has done, or that I have not seen it, or that I am not actually in posses sion of it, at least of the engravings which you mention. In fact, I have had them more than a fortnight. Lady Dowager Spencer, to whom I inscribed my Odyssey, and who was at Rome when Sir John Throckmorton was there, charged him with them as a present to me, and arriving here lately he executed his commission. Romney, I doubt not, is right in his judgment of them; he is an artist himself, and cannot easily be mistaken; and I take his opinion as an oracle, the rather because it coincides exactly with my own. The figures are highly classical antique, and elegant; especially that of Pe nelope, who, whether she wakes or sleeps, must necessarily charm all beholders.

Your scheme of embellishing my Odyssey with these plates is a kind one, and the fruit of your benevolence to me; but Johnson, I fear, will hardly stake so much money as the cost would amount 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 well-fortune ever attend me, it cannot take place till the third or fourth edition shall afford the occasion. This I regret, and I regret too that you will 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.

We add the verses addressed to Count Gravina, whom Cowper calls "the amiable Count," and who had translated the known stanzas on the Rose* into Italian

verse.

My Rose, Gravina, blooms anew,
And, steep'd not now in rain,
But in Castalian streams by you,
Will never fade again.

This cabin, Mary, in my sight appears,
Built as it has been in our waning years,
A rest afforded to our weary feet,
Preliminary to-the last retreat.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.
Weston, Aug. 15, 1793.
Instead of a pound or two. spending a mint
Must serve me at least, I believe, with a hint,
That building, and building, a man may be driven
At last out of doors, and have no house to live in.

Besides, my dearest brother, they have not
only built for me what I did not want, but
have ruined a notable tetrastic by doing so.
I had written one which I designed for a
hermitage, and it will by no means suit the
fine and pompous affair which they have
made instead of one. So that, as a poet, II
am every way afflicted; made poorer than I
need have been, and robbed of my verses:
what case can be more deplorable ?†
*The rose had been washed, just washed in a shower,'&c.
The lines here alluded to are entitled, "Inscription
for an Hermitage ;" and are as follow:-

The sculptor ?-nameless, though once dear tc 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 Odys sey is charming, but the assumption of sonship to Homer seems too daring; suppose it stood thus:

Ως δε παις ῳ πατρι, και ούποτε λησομαι αυτού.

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.

* A translation of Cowper's Greek verses on his bus of Homer.

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 MRS. COURTENAY. Weston, Aug. 20, 1793. My dearest Catharina is too reasonable, I know, to expect news from me, who live on the outside of the world, and know nothing that passes within it. The best news is, that, though you are gone, you are not gone forever, as once I supposed you were, and said that we should probably meet no more. Some news however we have; but then I conclude that you have already received it from the Doctor, and that thought almost deprives me of all courage to relate it. On the evening of the feast, Bob Archer's house affording, I suppose, the best room for the purpose, all the lads and lasses who felt themselves disposed to dance, assembled there. Long time they danced, at least long time they did something a little like it, when at last the company having retired, the fiddler asked Bob for a lodging; Bob replied"that his beds were all full of his own family, but if he chose it he would show him a hay-cock, where he might sleep as sound as in any bed whatever."-So forth they went together, and when they reached the place, the fiddler knocked down Bob, and demanded his money. But, happily for Bob, though he might be 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 beat-ing of information from others, was willing ing 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 Lo see again.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. Weston, Aug. 27, 1793. I thank you, my dear brother, for consulting the Gibbonian oracle on the question concerning Homer's muse and his blindness. I proposed it likewise to my little neighbor Buchanan, who gave me precisely the same an

swer. I felt an insatiable thirst to learn something new concerning him, and, despair

to hope, that I had stumbled on matter unnoticed by the commentators, and might, perhaps, acquire a little intelligence from himself. But the great and the little oracle together have extinguished that hope, and I despair now of making any curious discover ies about him.

By a letter from Hayley, to-day, I learn, that Flaxman, to whom we are indebted for those Odyssey figures which Lady Frog brought over, 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.

TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. Weston, Aug. 22, 1793. My dear Friend, 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 fin

ish
your excursions of this season with one
to Weston.

As for my going on, it is much as usual. I rise at six; an industrious and wholesome practice from which I have never swerved since March. I breakfast generally about eleven-have given the intermediate time to my old delightful bard. Villoisson.no longer keeps me company; I therefore now jog along with Clarke and Barnes at my elbow, and from the excellent annotations of the former, select such as I think likely to be useful, or that recommend themselves by the amusement they may afford: of which sorts there are not a few. Barnes also affords me some of both kinds, but not so many, his notes being chiefly paraphrastical or grammatical, my only fear is, lest between them both I should make my work too voluminous. W. C

Since Flaxman (which I did not know till your letter told me so) has been at work for the Iliad, as well as the Odyssey, it seems a bound up with some Homer or other; and, as great pity that the engravings should not be

I

said before, I should have been too proud is an objection, at least such it seems to me, to have bound them up in mine. But there that threatens to disqualify them for such a use, namely, the shape and size of them, which are such, that no book of the usual

form could possibly receive them, save in a folded state, which, I apprehend, would be to murder them.

The monument of Lord Mansfield, for which you say he is engaged, will (I dare say) prove a noble effort of genius.* Statuaries, as I have heard an eminent one say, do not much trouble themselves about a likeness: else I would give much to be able to communicate to Flaxman the perfect idea that I have of the subject, such as he was forty years ago. He was at that time wonderfully handsome, and would expound the

*The celebrated monument in Westminster Abbev

most mysterious intricacies of the law, or recapitulate both matter and evidence of a cause, as long as from hence to Eartham, with an intelligent smile on his features, that bespoke plainly the perfect ease with which he did it. The most abstruse studies (I believe) never cost him any labor.

You say nothing lately of your intended journey our way; yet the year is waning and the shorter days give you a hint to lose no time unnecessarily. Lately we had the whole family at the Hall, and now we have nobody. The Throckmortons are gone into Berkshire, and the Courtenays into Yorkshire. They are so pleasant a family, that I heartily wish you to see them; and at the same time wish to see you before they return, which will not be sooner than October. How shall I reconcile these wishes seemingly opposite? Why, by wishing that you may come soon and stay long. I know no other way of doing it.

My poor Mary is much as usual. I have set up Homer's head, and inscribed the pedestal; my own Greek at the top, with your translation under it, and

Ως δε παις ῳ πατρι, &c. It makes altogether a very learned appearance.*

TO LADY HESKETH.

smart and
W. C.

August 29, 1793.

Your question, at what time your coming to us will be most agreeable, is a knotty one, and such as, had I the wisdom of Solomon, I should be puzzled to answer. I will therefore leave it still a question, and refer the time of your journey Weston-ward entirely to your own election: adding this one limitation, however, that I do not wish to see you exactly at present, on account of the unfinished state of my study, the wainscot of which still smells of paint, and which is not yet papered. But to return: as I have insinuated, thy pleasant company is the thing which I always wish, and as much at one time as at another. I believe, if I examine myself minutely, since I despair of ever having it in the height of summer, which for your sake I should desire most, the depth of the winter is the season which would be most eligible to me. For then it is, that in general I have most need of a cordial, and particularly in the month of January. I am sorry, however, that I departed so far from my first purpose, and am answering a question, which I declared myself unable to answer. Choose thy own time, secure of this, that, whatever time that be, it will always to us be a wel-ly saw nothing of it. How I could possibly pass it without seeing it, when it stood in the walk, I know not, but certain it is that I did.

TO THE REV. MR. JOHNSON. Weston, Sept. 4, 1793. My dearest Johnny,-To 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 all Weston to ascertain the true time for us. My complaint was long, and lasted till, having turned into the grass-walk, we reached the new building at the end of it; where we sat awhile and reposed ourselves. In a few minutes we returned by the way we came, when what think you was my astonishment to see what I had not seen before, though I had passed close by it, a smart sun-dial mounted on a smart stone pedestal! I assure you it seemed the effect of conjuration. I stopped short, and exclaimed-"Why, here is a sun-dial, and upon our ground! How is this? Tell me, Sam, how it came here? Do you know anything about it?" At first I really thought (that is to say, as soon as I could think at all) that this fac-totum 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 knowledge, and was half pleased and half offended. But he soon exculpated himself by imputing the fact to you. It was brought up to Weston (it seems) about noon: but Andrews stopped the cart at the blacksmith's, whence he sent to inquire if I was gone for my walk. As it happened, I walked not till two o'clock. So there it stood waiting till 1 should go forth, and was introduced before my return. Fortunately, too, I went out at the church end of the village, and consequent

come one.

I thank you for your pleasant extract of Miss Fanshaw's letter.

*This bust and pedestal were afterwards removed to Sir George Throckmorton's grounds, and placed in the shrubbery.

Her pen drops eloquence as sweet
As any muse's tongue can speak;
Nor need a scribe, like her, regret
Her want of Latin or of Greek.*

And now, my dear, adieu! I have done more than I expected, and begin to feel myself exhausted with so much scribbling at the end of four hours' close application to study. W. C.

* Miss Fanshaw was an intimate friend of Lady Hes keth's, and frequently residing with her.

age, in due time I will give her proof of my
constancy.
W. C.

TO THE REV. MR. JOHNSON.

Weston, Sept. 29, 1793.

My dear Johnny,-You have done well to eave off visiting and being visited. Visits are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not that, would do nothing. The worst consequence of such departures from common practice is to be termed a singular sort of a fellow, or an odd fish; a sort of reproach that a man might be wise enough to contemn who had not half your understanding.

I look forward with pleasure to October the 11th, the day which I expect will be albo notandus lapillo, on account of your arrival here.

Here you will meet Mr. Rose, who comes on the 8th, and brings with him Mr. Lawrence, the painter, you may guess for what purpose. Lawrence returns when he has made his copy of me, but Mr. Rose will remain perhaps as long as you will. Hayley on the contrary will come, I suppose, just in time not to see you. Him we expect on the 20th. I trust, however, that thou wilt so order thy pastoral matters as to make thy stay here as long as possible.

Lady Hesketh, in her last letter, inquires very kindly after you, asks me for your address, and purposes soon to write to you. We hope to see her in November-so that, after a summer without company, we are likely to have an autumn and a winter socia ble enough. W. C.

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.

On Tuesday we expect company-Mr Rose, and Lawrence the painter. Yet once more is my patience to be exercised, and once more I am made to wish that my face had been moveable, to put on and take off at pleasure, so as to be portable in a band-box, and sent to the artist. These however will be gone, as I believe I told you, before you arrive, at which time I know not that anybody will be here, except my Johnny, whose presence will not at all interfere with our readings-you will not, I believe, find me a very slashing critic-I hardly indeed expect to find anything 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 yours was, when I saw it, is never so. But, however, we shall see. I promise to spare nothing that I think may be lopped off with advantage.

I began this letter yesterday, but could not finish it till now. I have risen this morning like an infernal frog out of Acheron, covered with the ooze and mud of melancholy. For this reason I am not sorry to find myself at the bottom of my paper, for had I more room perhaps I might fill it all with croaking, and make an heart-ache at Eartham, which I wish to be always cheerful. Adieu. My poor sympathising Mary is of course sad, but always mindful of you.

W. C.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.
Weston, Oct. 18, 1793.
My dear Brother, I have not at present
much that is necessary to say here, because

shall have the happiness of seeing you so soon; my time, according to custom, is a mere scrap, for which reason such must be my letter also.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.
Weston, Oct. 5, 1793.

My good intentions towards you, my dear-I
est brother, are continually frustrated; and,
which is most provoking, not by such en-
gagements and avocations as have a right to
my attention, such as those to my Mary and
the old bard of Greece, but by mere imper-
tinences, such as calls of civility from per-
sons not very interesting to me, and letters
from a distance still less interesting, because
the writers of them are strangers. A man
sent me a long copy of verses, which I could
do no less than acknowledge. They were
silly enough, and cost me eighteenpence,
which was seventeenpence half-penny farth-
ing more than they were worth. Another
sent me at the same time a plan, requesting
my opinion of it, and that I would lend him
my name as editor, a request with which I
shall not comply, but I am obliged to tell
him so, and one letter is all that I have time
to despatch in a day, sometimes half a one,
and sometimes I am not able to write at all.

You will find here more than I have hitherto given you reason to expect, but none who, will not be happy to see you. These, however, stay with us but a short time, and will leave us in full possession of Weston on Wednesday next.

I look forward with joy to your coming, heartily wishing you a pleasant journey, in which my poor Mary joins me. Give our best love to Tom; without whom, after having been taught to look for him, we should feel our pleasure in the interview much diminished.

Læt expectamus te puerumque tuum.
W. C.