his intimates, who would not have been such, had he been otherwise viciously inclined; the Duncombs, in particular, father and son, who were of unblemished morals.

Arriv'd, a night like noon she sees,
And hears the millions hum;
As all by instinct, like the bees,*

Had known their Sov'reign come.

Pleas'd she beheld aloft pourtray'd
On many a splendid wall,
Emblems of health, and heav'nly aid,
And George the theme of all.

Unlike the ænigmatic line,

So difficult to spell!

Which shook Belshazzar, at his wine,
The night his city fell.

Soon, watery grew her eyes, and dim,
But with a joyful tear!
None else, except in pray'r for him,
George ever drew from her.

It was a scene in every part
Like that in fable feign'd,
And seem'd by some magician's art
Created, and sustain'd.

But other magic there she knew,
Had been exerted, none,

To raise such wonders in her view,

Save love of George alone!

That

I am going to give you a deal of trou

ble, but London folks must be content to be troubled by country folks; for in London only, can our strange necessities be supplied.

VOL. I.

U U

You

You must buy for me, if you please, a Cuckow Clock; and now I will tell you where they are sold, which, Londoner as you are, it is possible you may not know. They are sold, I am informed, at more houses than one, in that narrow part of Holborn which leads into Broad St. Giles'. It seems they are well-going clocks and cheap, which are the two best recommendations of any clock. They are made in Germany, and such numbers of them are annually imported, that they are become even a considerable article of

commerce.

I return you many thanks for Boswell's Tour, I read it to Mrs. Unwin after supper, and we find it amusing. There is much trash in it, as there must always be in every narrative that relates indiscriminately all that passed. But now and then the Doctor speaks like an oracle, and that makes amends for all. Sir John was a coxcomb, and Boswell is not less a coxcomb, though of another kind. I fancy Johnson made coxcombs of all his friends, and they in return made him a coxcomb; for, with reverence be it spoken, such he certainly was, and flattered as he was, he was sure to be so,

Thanks for your invitation to London, but unless London can come to me, I fear we shall never meet. I was sure that you would love my friend, when you should once be well acquainted with him; and equally sure that he would take kindly to you.

Now for Homer.

W. C.

LETTER