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She was scized while Hayley and I were walk-time of preparation for an office of so much iming, and Mr. Greatheed, who called while we portance as that of a minister of God's word should were absent, was with her.

have been a little protracted. It is easier to direct I forgot in my last to thank thee for the pro- the movements of a great army, than to guide a posed amendments of thy friend. Whoever he is, few souls to Heaven; the way is narrow, and full make my compliments to him, and thank him. of snares, and the guide himself has the most difThe passages to which he objects haye been all ficulties to encounter. But I trust he will do well. alt d; and when he shall see them new dressed, He is single in his views, honest hearted, and de1 hope he will like them better. W: C. sirous, by prayer and study of the Scripture, to

qualify himself for the service of his great Master, who will suffer no such man to fail for want of his


aid and protection Alica. The Lodge, May 26, 1792. MY DEAREST COUSIN,

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. Knowing that you will be anxious to learn how we go on, I write a few lines to inform you that all's Well;

Weston, June 4, 1792. Mrs. Unwin daily recovers a little strength, and a Which words I place as conspicuously as poslittle power of utterance; but she seems strongest, sible, and prefix them to my letter, to save you the and her speech is most distinct, in a morning. pain, my friend and brother, of a moment's anxious Hayley has been all in all to us on this very afflic- speculation. · Poor Mary proceeds in her amendtive occasion. Love him, I charge you, dearly ment still, and improves, I think, even at a swifter for my sake. Where could I have found a man, rate than when you left her. The stronger she except himself, who could have made himself so grows, the faster she gathers strength, which is necessary to me in so short a time, that I abso- perhaps the natural course of rečovery. She walklutely know not how to live without him? ed so well this morning, that she told me at my

Adieu, my dear sweet Coz. Mrs. Unwin, as first visit she had entirely forgot her illness ; and plainly as her poor lips can speak, sends her best she spoke so distinctly, and had so much of her love, and Hayley threatens in a few days to lay usual countenance, that, had it been possible, she close siege to your allections in person. would have made me forget it too.

W.CF Returned from my walk, blown to tatters-found

two dear things in the study, your letter, and my There is some hope, I find, that the Chancellor Mary! She is bravely well, and your beloved epismay continue in oflice, and I shall be glad if he tle does us both good. I found your kind pencil does; because we have no single inan worthy to note in my song-book, as soon as I came down in succeed him.

the morning of your departure; and Mary was I open my letter again to thank you, my dearest vexed to the heart, that the simpletons who watchCoz, for yours just received. Though happy, as ed her supposed her asleep, when she was not; you well know, to see you at all times, we have for she learned soon after you were gone, that you no need, and I trust shall have none, to trouble would have peeped at her, had you known her to you with a journey made on purpose; yet once have been awake. I perhaps might have had a again I am willing and desirous to believe, we peep too, and therefore was as vexed as she; but shall be a happy trio at Weston; but unless ne- if it please God, we shall make ourselves large cessity dictates a journey of charity, I wish all amends for all lost peeps by and by at Eartham. yourş hither to be made for pleasure. Farewell.

W. C. Thou shalt know how we go on.


Weston, June 5, 1792. MY DEAREST ROSE, Weston, June 4, 1792. YESTERDAY was a noble day with us—speech

I am not such an ungrateful and insensible ani- almost perfect-eyes open almost the whole day, mal, as to have neglected you thus long without without any effort to keep them so; and the step a reason.

wonderfully improved. But the night has been

almost a sleepless one, owing partly I believe to I can not say that I am sorry that our dear her having had as much sleep again as usual the Johnny finds the pulpit door shut against him at night before; for even when she is in tolerable present. He is young, and can afford to wait an- health she hardly ever sleeps well two nights toother year; neither is it to be regretted, that his gether. I found her accordingly a little out of

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spirits this morning, but still insisting on it that to advance in her recovery. So in fact she does,
she is better. Indeed she always tells me so, and and has performed several little feats to-day, such
will probably die with those very words upon her as either she could not perform at all, or very
lips. They will be true then at least, for then she feebly, while you were with us.
will be best of all. She is now (the clock has just I shall be glad if you have seen Johnny, as I
struck eleven) endeavouring, I believe, to get a call him, my Norfolk cousin; he is a sweet lad, but
little sleep, for which reason I do not yet let her as shy as a bird. It costs him always two or three
know that I have received your letter.

days to open his mouth before a stranger; but
Can I ever honour you enough for your zeal to when he does, he is sure to please by the innocent
serve me? Truly I think not: I am however so cheerfulness of his conversation. His sister too is
sensible of the love I owe you on this account, that one of my idols, for the resemblance she bears to
I every day regret the acuteness of your feelings my mother.
for me, convinced that they expose you to much Mary and you have all my thoughts; and how
trouble, mortification, and disappointment. I have should it be otherwise? She looks well, is better,
in short a poor opinion of my destiny, as I told and loves you dearly. Adieu, my brother. W.C.
you when you were here; and though I believe
that if any man living can do me good, you will, I
can not yet persuade myself that even you will be
successful in attempting it. But it is no matter,

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. you are yourself a good which I can never value

Weston, June 10, 1792. enough, and whether rich or poor in other respects, I do indeed anxiously wish that every thing you I shall always account myself better provided for do may prosper; and should I at last prosper by than I deserve, with such a friend at my back as your means, shall taste double sweetness in prosyou. Let it please God to continue to me my perity for that reason. William and Mary, and I will be more reasonable I rose this morning, as I usually do, with a than to grumble.

mind all in sables. In this mood I presented myI rose this morning wrapped round with a cloud self to Mary's bedside, whom I found, though after of melancholy, and with a heart full of fears; but many hours lying awake, yet cheerful, and not to if I see Mary's amendment a little advanced when be affected with my desponding humour. It is a she rises, I shall be better.

great blessing to us both that, poor feeble thing as I have just been with her again. Except that she is, she has a most invincible courage, and a she is fatigued for want of sleep, she seems as well trust in God's goodness that nothing shakes. She as yesterday. The post brings me a letter from is now in the study, and is certainly in some deHurdis, who is broken-hearted for a dying sister.gree better than she was yesterday, but how to Had we eyes sharp enough, we should see the ar- measure that little I know not, except by saying rows of Death flying in all directions, and account that it is just perceptible. it a wonder that we and our friends escape them I am glad that you have seen my Johnny of a single day.

W.C. Norfolk, because I know it will be a comfort to you to have seen your successor.

He arrived, to

my great joy, yesterday; and not having bound TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.

himself to any particular time of going, will, I hope, stay long with us.

You are now once more snug Weston, June 7, 1792. in your retreat, and I give you joy of

your return Of what materials can you suppose me made, to it, after the bustle in which you have lived since if after all the rapid proofs that you have given me you left Weston. Weston mourns your absence, of your friendship, I do not love you with all my and will mourn it till she sees you again. What heart, and regret your absence continually? But is to become of Milton I know not; I do nothing you must permit me nevertheless to be inclancholy but scribble to you, and seem to have no relish now and then; or if you will not, I must be so for any other employment. I have however in without your permission; for that sable thread is pursuit of your idea to compliment Darwin, put a so intermixed with the very thread of my existence, few stanzas* together, which I shall subjoin; you as to be inseparable from it, at least while I exist will easily give them all that you find they want, in the body. Be content therefore; let me sigh and match the song with another. and groan, but always be sure that I love you! I am now going to walk with Johnny, much You will be well assured that I should not have cheered since I began writing to you, and by Maindulged myself in the rhapsody about myself, and ry's looks and good spirits.

W.C. my melancholy, had my present mood been of that complexion, or had not our poor Mary seemed still • Lines addressed to Dr. Darwin See Poems.

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| bids me say, “that should I do so, you in revenge TO LADY HESKETH.

must love him more than I do.”-Him I know MY DEAREST coz,

Weston, June 11, 1792. you will love, and me, because you have such a Thou art ever in my thoughts, whether I am habit of doing it that you can not help it. writing to thee or not; and my correspondence Adieu! My knuckles ache with letter writing. seems to grow upon me at such a rate, that I am With my poor patient's affectionate rememnot able to address thee so often as I would. In brances, and Johnny's, fact, I live only to write letters. Hayley is as you

I am ever thine, W.C. see added to the number, and to him I write almost as duly as I rise in the morning; nor is he only added, but his friend Carwardine also—Carwar

TO WILLIAM HALEY, ESQ. dine the generous, the disinterested, the friendly. I seem in short to have stumbled suddenly on a

Weston, June 19, 1792. race of heroes, men who resolve to have no interests

Thus have I filled a whole of their own till mine are served.

page to my dear William of Eartham, and have But I will proceed to other matters, that concern not said a syllable yet about my Mary. A sure me more intimately, and more immediately, than sign that she goes on well. Be it known to you all that can be done for me either by the great or that we have these four days discarded our sedan the small, or by both united. Since I wrote last, with two elbows. Here is no more carrying, or Mrs. Unwin has been continually improving in being carried, but she walks up stairs boldly, with strength, but at so gradual a ráte that I can only one hand upon the balustrade, and the other under mark it by saying that she moves about every my arm, and in like manner she comes down in a day with less support than the former. Her re- morning. Still I confess she is feeble, and misses covery is most of all retarded by want of sleep. On much of her former strength. The weather too the whole I believe she goes on as well as could be is sadly against her: it deprives her of many a expected, though not quite well enough to satisfy good turn in the orchard, and fifty times have I me. And Dr. Austin, speaking from the reports wished this very day, that Dr. Darwin's scheme I have made of her, says he has no doubt of her of giving rudders and sails to the Ice-islands, that restoration.

spoil all our summers, were actually put in pracDuring the last two months, I seem to myself to tice. So should we have gentle airs instead of have been in a dream. It has been a most event- churlish blasts; and those everlasting sources of ful period, and fruitful to an uncommon degree, bad weather being once navigated into the southboth in good and evil. I have been very ill, and ern hemisphere, my Mary would recover as fast suffered excruciating pain. I recovered, and be again. We are both of your mind respecting the came quite well again. I received within my doors journey to Eartham, and think that July, if by a man, but lately an entire stranger, and who now that time she have strength for the journey, will loves me as his brother, and forgets himself to serve be better than August. We shall have more me. Mrs. Unwin has been seized with an illness long days before us, and them we shall want as that for many days threatened to deprive me of her, much for our return as for our going forth. This and to cast a gloom, an impenetrable one, on all however must be left to the Giver of all good. If my future prospects. She is now granted to me our visit to you be according to his will, he will again. A few days since I should have thought smooth our way before us, and appoint. the time the moon might have descended into my purse as of it; and thus I speak, not because I wish to likely as any emolument, and now it seems not seem a saint in your eyes, but because my poor impossible. All this has come to pass with such Mary actually is one, and would not set her foot rapidity as events move with in romance indeed, over the threshold, to save her life, unless she had, but not often in real life. Events of all sorts creep or thought she had, God's free permission. With or fly exactly as God pleases.

that she would go through floods and fire, though To the foregoing I have to add in conclusion without it she would be afraid of every thing :the arrival of my Johnny, just when I wanted him afraid even to visit you, dearly as she loves, and most, and when only a few days before I had no much as she longs to see you.

W. C. expectation of him. He came to dinner on Saturday, and I hope I shall keep him long. What comes next I know not; but shall endeavour, as

TO WILLIAM HALEY, ESQ. you exhort me, to look for good, and I know I shall have your prayers that I may not be disap

Weston, June 27, 1792. pointed.

Well then-let us talk about this journey to Haley tells me you begin to be jealous of him, Eartham. You wish me to settle the time of it, lest I should love him more than I love you, and and I wish with all my heart to be able to do so, living in hopes meanwhile that I shall be able to do it soon. But some little time must necessarily

TO WILLIAM HALEY, ESQ. intervene. Our Mary must be able to walk alone,

Weston, July 15, 1792. to cut her own food, to feed herself, and to wear The progress of the old nurse in Terence is very her own shoes, for at present she wears mine. much like the progress of my poor patient in the All things considered, my friend and brother, you road of recovery. I can not indeed say that she will see the expediency of waiting a litle before moves, but advances not, for advances are cerwe set off to Eartham. We mean indeed before tainly made, but the progress of a week is hardly that day arrives to make a trial of the strength of perceptible. I know not therefore at present what her head, how far it may be able to bear the mo- to say about this long postponed journey. The tion of a carriage, a motion that it has not felt utmost that it is safe for me to say at this moment these seven years. I grieve that we are thus cir- is this You know that you are dear to us both; cumstanced, and that we can not gratify ourselves true it is that you are so, and equally true that in a delightful and innocent project without all the very instant we feel ourselves at liberty we these precautions; but when we have leaf-gold to will fly to Eartham. I have been but once within handle, we must do it tenderly.

the Hall door since the Courtenays came home, I thank you, my brother, both for presenting much as I have been pressed to dine there, and my authorship to your friend Guy, and for the ex- have hardly escaped giving a little offence by decellent verses with which you have inscribed your clining it; but though I should offend all the world present. There are none neater or better turned by my obstinacy in this instance, I would not leave -with what shall I requite you? I have nothing my poor Mary alone. Johnny serves me as a reto send you but a gimcrack, which I have pre- presentative, and him I send without scruple. As pared for my bride and bridegroom neighbours, to the affair of Milton, I know not what will bewho are expected to-morrow. You saw in my come of it. I wrote to Johnson a week since, to book a poern entitled Catharina, which concluded tell him that the interruption of Mrs. Unwin's with a wish that we had her for a neighbour; this illness still continuing, and being likely to contherefore is called Catharina; the second part. tinue, I knew not when I should be able to proOn her marriage to George Courtenay, Esq.* ceed. The translations (I said) were finished,

except the revisal of a part.

God bless your dear little boy and poet! I thank

hím for exercising his drawing genius upon me, TO WILLIAM HALEY, ESQ.

and shall be still happier to thank him in person.

Abbot is painting me so true
Weston, July 4, 1792.

That (trust me) you would stare,
I know not how you proceed in your life of And hardly know, at the first view,
Milton, but I suppose not very rapidly, for while

If I were here, or there. you were here, and since you left us, you have had I have sat twice; and the few, who have seen the no other theme but me. As for myself, except copy of me, are much struck with the resemmy letters to you, and the nuptial song I inserted blance. He is a sober, quiet man, which, consiin my last, I have literally done nothing since I dering that I must. have him at least a week saw you. Nothing I mean in the writing way, longer for an inmate, is a great comfort to me. though a great deal in another; that is to say, in My Mary sends you her best love. She can attending my poor Mary, and endeavouring to walk now, leaning on my arm only, and her nurse her up for a journey to Eartham. In this speech is certainly much improved. I long to see I have hitherto succeeded tolerably well, and had you. Why can not you and dear Tom spend the rather carry this point completely, than be the remainder of the summer with us? We might most famous editor of Milton that the world has then all set off for Eartham merrily together. ever seen, or shall see.

But I retract this, conscious that I am unreasonaYour humorous descant upon my art of wish- ble. It is a wretched world, and what we would, ing made us merry, and consequently did good to is almost always what we can not. us both. I sent my wish to the Hall yesterday. Adieu! Love me, and be sure of a return. They are excellent neighbours, and so friendly to

W. C. me, that I wished to gratify them. When I went to pay my first visit, George flew into the court to meet me, and when I entered the parlour, Catha

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. rina sprang into my arms.

W. C.

Weston, July 22, 1792.

This important affair, my dear brother, is at last • See Poems

decided, and we are coming. Wednesday se'n


night, if nothing occur to make a later day neces- der much more that I still courageously persevere sary, is the day fixed for our journey. Our rate in my resolution to undertake it. Fortunately for of traveling must depend on Mary's ability to bear my intentions, it happens that as the day approachit. Our mode of traveling will occupy three days es my terrors abate ; for had they continued to be unavoidably, for we shall come in a coach. Ab- what they were a week since, I must after all have · bot finishes my picture to-morrow; on Wednesday disappointed you; and was actually once on the he returns to town, and is commissioned to order verge of doing it. I have told you something of one down for us, with four steeds to draw it; my nocturnal experiences, and assure you now that _“Hollow pamper'd sades of Asia,

they were hardly ever more terrific than on this That can not go but forty miles a day."

occasion. Prayer has, however, opened my pas Send us our route, for I am as ignorant of it al- sage at last, and obtained for me a degree of conmost as if I were in a strange country. We shall fidence that I trust will prove a comfortable viatireach St. Alban’s I suppose the first day; say cum to me all the way. On Wednesday, therewhere we must finish our second day's journey, fore, we set forth. and at what inn we may best repose ? As to the The terrors that I have spoken of would appear end of the third day, we know where that will find ridiculous to most ; but to you they will not, for us, viz. in the arms, and under the roof of our be- you are a reasonable creature, and know well that loved Hayley.

to whatever cause it be owing (whether to constiGeneral Cowper, having heard a rumour of this tution, or by God's express appointment) I am intended migration, desires to meet me on the road, hunted by spiritual hounds in the night season. I that we may once more see each other. He lives can not help it. You will pity me, and wish it at Ham, near Kingston. Shall we go through were otherwise; and though you may think that Kingston, or near it ? For I would give him as there is much of the imaginary in it, will not deem little trouble as possible, though he offers very kind-it for that reason an evil less to be lamented ly to come as far as Barnet for that purpose. Nor So much for fears and distresses. Soon I hope must I forget Carwardine, who so kindly desired they shall all have a joyful termination, and I, my to be informed what way we should go. On what Mary, my Johnny, and my dog, be skipping with point of the road will it be easiest for him to find delight at Eartham! us ? On all these points you must be my oracle. Well! this picture is at last finished, and well My friend and brother, we shall overwhelm you finished, I can assure you. Every creature that with our numbers; this is all the trouble that I has seen it has been astonished at the resemblance. have left. My Johnny of Norfolk, happy in the Sam's boy bowed to it, and Beau walked up to it, thought of accompanying us, would be broken- wagging his tail as he went, and evidently showhearted to be left behind.

ing that he acknowledged its likeness to his masIn the midst of all these solicitudes I laugh to ter. It is a half length, as it is technically, but think what they are made of, and what an impor- absurdly called; that is to say, it gives all but the tant thing it is for me to travel. Other men steal foot and ankle. To-morrow it goes to town, and away from their homes silently, and make no dis- will hang some months at Abbot's, when it will be turbance; but when I move, houses are turned sent to its due destination in Norfolk. upside down, maids are turned out of their beds, I hope, or rather wish, that at Eartham I may all the counties through which I pass appear to be recover that habit of study, which, inveterate as it in an uproar-Surry greets me by the mouth of once seemed, I now seem to have lost—lost to such the General, and Essex by that of Carwardine. a degree that it is even painful to me to think of How strange does all this seem to a man who has what it will cost me to acquire it again. seen no bustle, and made none, for twenty years Adieu! my dear, dear Hayley; God give us a together. Adieu.

W.C. happy meeting. Mary sends her love-She is in

pretty good plight this morning, having slept well,

and for her part has no fears at all about the jourTO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ.


Ever yours, W.C.
Weston, July 29, 1792.
Through floods and flames to your retreat,
I win my desp'rale way,

And when we meet, if e'er we meet,
Will echo your huzza !


Eartham, Aug. 6, 1792. You will wonder at the word desprate in the Having first thanked you for your affectionate second line, and at the if in the third; but could and acceptable letter, I will proceed, as well as I you have any conception of the fears I have had can, to answer your equally affectionate request to battle with, of the dejection of spirits that I have that I would send you early news of our arrival at suffered concerning this journey, you would won-Eartham. Here we are in the most elegant man

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