LETTER CV.

To SAMUEL ROSE, Esqr.

Weston, Sept. 11, 1788.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Since your departure I have twice

visited the Oak, and with an intention to push my inquiries a mile beyond it, where it seems I should have found another Oak, much larger and much more respectable than the former; but once I was hindered by the rain, and once by the sultriness of the day. This latter Oak has been known by the name of Judith many ages; and is said to have been an Oak at the time of the Conquest. If I have not an opportunity to reach it before your arrival here, we will attempt that exploit together; and even if I should have been able to visit it ere you come, I shall yet be glad to do so; for the pleasure of extraordinary sights, like all other pleasures, is doubled by the participation of a friend.

You wish for a copy of my little Dog's eulogium, which I will therefore transcribe; but by so doing, I shall leave myself but scanty room for prose.

I shall be sorry if our neighbours at the Hall should have left it, when we have the pleasure of seeing you. I want you to see them soon again, that a little consuetudo may wear off restraint; and you may be able to improve the advantage you have already gain

ed in that quarter. I pitied you for the fears which deprived you of your Uncle's company, and the more having suffered so much by those fears myself. Fight against that vicious fear, for such it is, as strenuously as you can. It is the worst enemy that can attack a man destined to the Forum-it ruined me. To associate as much as possible with the most respectable company, for good sense and good breeding, is, I believe, the only, at least I am sure it is the best remedy. The society of men of pleasure will not cure it, but rather leaves us more exposed to its influence in company of better persons.

Now for the Dog and the Water-lilly.*

1.

ON A SPANIEL CALLED BEAU, KILLING A YOUNG BIRD.

A Spaniel, Beau, that fares like you,

Well-fed, and at his ease,

Should wiser be, than to pursue

Each trifle that he sees.

W. C.

But

*NOTE BY THE EDITOR.

As the Poem inserted in this Letter has been printed repeatedly, I shall here introduce in its stead two sprightly little Poems, on the same favourite Spaniel, written indeed at a later period, but hitherto, I believe, unpublished.

Yet much as Nature I respect,

I ventur'd once to break

(As you perhaps may recollect)
Her precept, for your sake:

And when your Linnet on a day,
Passing his prison door,
Had flutter'd all his strength away,
And panting press'd the floor,

Well knowing him a sacred thing,
Not destin'd to my tooth,
I only kiss'd his ruffled wing,

And lick'd his feathers smooth.

Let my obedience then excuse
My disobedience now!

Nor some reproof yourself refuse
From your aggriev'd Bow-wow!

If killing Birds be such a crime,
(Which I can hardly see)

What think you, Sir, of killing Time

With verse addres'd to me?

LETTER

LETTER CVI.

To SAMUEL ROSE, Esqr.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Weston, Sept. 25, 1788.

Say what is the thing by my Riddle design'd

Which you carried to London, and yet left behind.

I expect your answer, and without a fee.-The half hour next before breakfast I devote to you; the moment Mrs. Unwin arrives in the study, be what I have written much or little, I shall make my bow, and take leave. If you live to be a Judge, as if I augur right you will, I shall expect to hear of a walking Circuit.

I was shocked at what you tell me of-Superior talents, it seems, give no security for propriety of conduct; on the contrary, having a natural tendency to nourish pride, they often betray the possessor into such mistakes, as men more moderately gifted never commit. Ability, therefore, is not wisdom; and an ounce of grace is a better guard against gross absurdity, than the brightest talents in the world.

I rejoice that you are prepared for transcript work; here will be plenty for you. The day on which you shall receive this, I beg you will remember to drink one glass at least to the success of the Iliad, which I finished the day before yesterday, and yester

day