Not elfe unworthy to be fear'd, So, ancient Poets fay, ferene The fea-maid rides the waves, And fearless of the billowy fcene, Her peaceful bofom laves. With more than astronomic eyes She view'd the sparkling show; One Georgian ftar adorns the skies, She myriads found below. Yet let the glories of a night Like that, once feen, fuffice! LETTER CXI. To SAMUEL ROSE, Efq. MY DEAR FRIEND, THE LODGE, June 5, 1789. I AM going to give you a deal of trouble, but London folks must be content to be troubled by country folks; for in London only can our strange neceffities be fupplied. You muft buy for me, if you please, a Cuckow Clock; and now I will tell you where they are fold, which, Londoner as you are, it is poffible you may not know. They are fold, I am informed, at more houses than one, in that narrow part of Holborn which leads into Broad St. Giles'. It feems they are well-going clocks and cheap, which are the two beft recommendations of any clock. They are made in Germany, and such numbers of them are annually imported, that they are become even a confiderable article of com merce. I I return you many thanks for Bofwell's Tour. read it to Mrs. Unwin after fupper, and we find it amusing. There is much trash in it, as there must always be in every narrative that relates indifcriminately all that paffed. But now and then the Doctor speaks like an oracle, and that makes amends for all. Sir John was a coxcomb, and Bofwell is not lefs a coxcomb, though of another kind. I fancy Johnfon made coxcombs of all his friends, and they in return made him a coxcomb: for, with reverence be it spoken, fuch he certainly was, and flattered as he was, he was fure to be fo. Thanks for your invitation to London; but unlefs London can come to me, I fear we fhall never meet. I was fure that you would love my friend, when you should once be well acquainted with him; and equally fure that he would take kindly to you. Now for Homer. W. C. AMICO MIO, LETTER CXII. To SAMUEL ROSE, Efq. THE LODGE, June 20, 1789. I AM truly forry that it must be fo long before we can have an opportunity to meet. My coufin in her laft letter but one, infpired me with other expectations, expreffing a purpose, if the matter could be fo contrived, of bringing you with her; I was willing to believe that you had confulted together on the fubject, and found it feasible. A month was formerly a trifle in my account, but at my prefent age I give it all its importance, and grudge, that fo many months fhould yet pafs in which I have not even a glimpse of those I love; and of whom, the course of nature confidered, I must ere long take leave forever-But I fhall live till Auguft. Many thanks for the Cuckow, which arrived perfectly fafe, and goes well, to the amusement and amazement of all who hear it. Hannah lies awake to hear it! and I am not fure that we have not others in the house that admire his music as much as she. Having read both Hawkins and Boswell, I now think myself almost as much a master of Johnson's character as if I had known him perfonally; and cannot but regret, that our Bards of other times found no fuch biographers as thefe. They have both been ridiculed, and the wits have had their laugh; but fuch an hiftory of Milton or Shakespeare, as they have given of Johnfon-Oh, how defirable! W. C. LETTER CXIII. To Mrs. THROCKMORTON. July 18, 1789. MANY thanks, my dear Madam, for your extract from George's letter! I retain but little Italian ; yet that little was fo forcibly mustered by the consciousnefs that I was myself the fubject, that I presently became master of it. I have always faid that George is a Poet, and I am never in his company but I discover proofs, of it; and the delicate addrefs, by which he has managed his complimentary mention of me, convinces me of it ftill more than ever. Here are a thousand Poets of us who have impudence enough to write for the public; but amongst the modeft men, who are by diffi, dence reftrained from fuch an enterprize, are those who would eclipfe us all. I wish that George would make the experiment: I would bind on his laurels with my own hand. Your gardener has gone after his wife; but having neglected to take his lyre, alias fiddle, with him, has not yet brought home his Eurydice. Your clock in the hall has stopped; and (ftrange to tell!) it stopped at fight of the watch-maker. For he only looked at it, and it has been motionless ever fince. Mr. Gregfon is gone, and the Hall is a defolation. Pray don't think any place pleasant, that you may find in your rambles, that we may fee you the fooner. Your aviary is all in good health. I pass it every day, and often inquire at the lattice; the inhabitants of it fend their duty, and wish for your return. I took notice of the infcription on your feal, and had we an artist here capable of furnishing me with another, fhould read on mine "Encore une lettre." Adieu. you W. C. LETTER CXIV. To SAMUEL ROSE, Efq. THE LODGE, July 23, 1789. YOU do well, my dear Sir, to improve your opportunity; to speak in the rural phrase, this is your fowing time, and the fheaves you look for can never be yours unlefs you' make that ufe of it. The colour of our whole life is generally fuch as the three or four first years, in which we are our own masters, make it. Then it is that we may be faid to fhape our own. destiny, and to treasure up for ourselves a series of future fucceffes or difappointments. Had I employed my time as wifely as you, in a fituation very similar to yours, I had never been a poet perhaps, but I might by this time have acquired a character of more importance in fociety; and a fituation in which my friends would have been better pleased to fee me. But three years mis-spent in an attorney's office, were almost of course fol-lowed by feveral more equally mis-spent in the Temple; and the confequence has been, as the Italian Epitaph fays, "Sto qui."-The only ufe I can make of myself now, at least the beft, is to ferve in terrorem to others,, when occafion may happen to offer, that they may ef cape (fo far as my admonitions can have any weight with them) my folly and my fate. When you feel yourself tempted to relax a little of the strictness of your prefent difcipline, and to indulge in amufement incompatible with your future interests, think on your friend at Wefton. Having faid this, I fhall next, with my whole heart, invite you hither, and affure you that I look forward to approaching Auguft with great pleasure; because it promifes me your company. After a little time (which we shall with longer) spent with us, you will return invigorated to your ftudies, and purfue them with the more advantage. In the mean time you have loft little,. in point of feafon, by being confined to London. Inceffant rains, and meadows under water, have given to the fummer the air of winter, and the country has been deprived of half its beauties. It is time to tell you that we are all well, and often make you our fubject. This is the third meeting that my coufin and we have had in this country; and a great inftance of good fortune I account it in fuch a world as this, to have expected fuch a pleasure thricewithout being once disappointed. Add to this wonder as foon as you can, by making yourself of the party. W.C.. LETTER CXV. To SAMUEL ROSE, Efq. WESTON, August 8, 1789. MY DEAR FRIEND, COME when you will, or when you can, you cannot come at a wrong time, but we shall expect you on the day mentioned. If you have any book that you think will make pleafant evening reading, bring it with you. I now read |