For 'tis a truth, well known to most,

That whatsoever thing is lost,

We seek it, ere it come to light,

In ev'ry cranny but the right.

Forth skipped the cat; not now replete As erst with airy self-conceit,

Nor in her own fond apprehension,

A theme for all the world's attention,
But modest, sober, cur'd of all
Her notions hyperbolical,

And wishing for a place of rest
Any thing rather than a chest.

Then stept the poet into bed,

With this reflection in his head.

MORAL.

Beware of too sublime a sense
Of your own worth and consequence!
The man who dreams himself so great,
And his importance of such weight,
That all around, in all that's done,
Must move and act for him alone,
Will learn, in school of tribulation,
The folly of his expectation.

LETTER XXXI.

that

To JOSEPH HILL, Esqr.

Nov, 16, 1787.

I thank you for the solicitude

you express on the subject of my present studies. The work is undoubtedly long and laborious, but it has an end, and proceeding leisurely, with a due attention to the use of air and exercise, it is possible that I may live to finish it. Assure yourself of one thing, that though to a bystander it may seem an occupation surpassing the powers of a constitution, never very athletic, and, at present, not a little the worse for wear, I can invent for myself no employment that does not exhaust my spirits more. I will not pretend to account for this, I will only say, that it is not the language of predilection for a favourite amusement, but that the fact is really so. I have even found that those plaything-avocations which one may execute almost without any attention, fatigue me, and wear me away, while such as engage me much, and attach me closely, are rather serviceable to me than otherwise.

W. C.

LETTER XXXII.

To Lady HESKETH.

The Lodge, Nov. 27, 1787.

It is the part of wisdom, my dearest Cousin, to sit down contented under the demands of necessity, because they are such. I am sensible that you cannot, in my Uncle's present infirm state, and of which it is not possible to expect any considerable amendment, indulge either us, or yourself, with a journey to Weston. Yourself, I say, both because I know it will give you pleasure to see Causidice mi* once more, especially in the comfortable abode where you have placed him, and because after so long an imprisonment in London, you, who love the country, and have a taste for it, would of course be glad to return to it. For my own part, to me it is ever new, and though I have now been an inhabitant of this village a twelvemonth, and have during the half of that time been at liberty to expa- tiate, and to make discoveries, I am daily finding out

The appellation which Sir Thomas Hesketh used to give

him in jest, when he was of the Temple.

fresh scenes and walks, which you would never be satisfied with enjoying- -some of them are unapproachable by you either on foot or in your carriage. Had you twenty toes (whereas I suppose you have but ten) you could not reach them; and coach wheels have never been seen there since the flood. Before it indeed, (as Burnet says, that the earth was then perfectly free from all inequalities in its surface) they might have been seen there every day. We have other walks both upon hill tops, and in vallies beneath, some of which by the help of your carriage, and many of them without its help, would be always at your command.

On Monday morning last, Sam brought me word that there was a man in the kitchen who desired to speak with me. I ordered him in. A plain, decent, elderly figure made its appearance, and being desired to sit, spoke as follows: "Sir, I am clerk of

the parish of All-saints in Northampton; brother "of Mr. C. the upholsterer. It is customary for the 66 person in my office to annex to a bill of mortality " which he publishes at Christmas, a copy of verses. "You will do me a great favour, Sir, if you would "furnish me with one." To this I replied, "Mr.

"C. you have several men of genius in your town,

why have you not applied to some of them? "There is a namesake of yours in particular, C, "the statuary, who, every body knows, is a first"rate maker of verses. He surely is the man of all "the world for your purpose."-" Alas! Sir, I have " heretofore borrowed help from him, but he is a

L

gentleman of so much reading, that the people of 66 our town cannot understand him." I confess to you, my dear, I felt all the force of the compliment implied in this speech, and was almost ready to answer, perhaps, my good friend, they may find me unintelligible too for the same reason. But on asking him whether he had walked over to Weston on purpose to implore the assistance of my muse, and on his replying in the affirmative, I felt my mortified vanity a little consoled, and pitying the poor man's distress, which appeared to be considerable, promised to supply him. The waggon has accordingly gone this day to Northampton loaded in part with my effusions in the mortuary stile. A fig for poets who write epitaphs upon individuals! I have written one, that serves two hundred persons.

A few days since I received a second very obliging Letter from Mr. M-, He tells me that