style of composition, all new and unworn on the actual lyre. The third stanza of Akenside's Ode on the Winter Solstice, would make a beautiful glee, beneath the hand of musical genius. The gaiety of the first part of the stanza, and the pensive solicitous sentiment of the latter, suggest and demand the fascinating power of harmonic contrast. For a gay glee, or solo air, perhaps the following lines, an extempore of this moment, might not be improper.

Now Spring wakes the May-morn, the sweetest of hours,.
Calls the lark to the sunbeam, the bee to the flowers;
Calls youth, love, and beauty their homage to pay,
And weave their gay garlands to honour the May;
Yet hope not, whate'er of soft joys it may bring,
That the season, so jocund, will pause on its wing.

Since I came here I have heard of the death of Mr Hayley's darling protegé: Alas!-and also of the decease of a valued poetic friend of mine, Rev. W. B. Stevens of Repton. About his 25th year he published a fine poem, in blank verse, entitled Retirement. It was a poetic morning of bright promise; but the pitchy cloud of the reviewers' perceptions darkened its pure and crystal rays-nor could the mob of readers perceive its lustre through that dense medium of unjust cenConsequently, being a maiden work, it

sure.

had no sale, and the high-minded reserve of the author was irreparably disgusted. He published no more; and now, alas, the golden fountain of his genius is for ever dried up, ere half the age of man was attained. Such are the mischiefs of incompetent and self-elected censorship.

LETTER LI.

REV. T. S. WHALLEY.

Buxton, June 14. 1800.

AFTER passing a month at this place, I purpose returning home next week, without having much cause to flatter myself that the malady which brought me hither is subdued.

Sorry I am to find you a fellow-sufferer with me in that wretched dizziness, so much more annoying than pain, even when not by pain accompanied. The Bath waters cured my friend Simpson of that disease-why do not you, who are, comparatively speaking, on their confines, resort to them? The Buxton springs are of resembling, though gentler effects, with the superior advantage of a pure mountainous air, sharp,

but bracing, free from the noxious city-effluvia, and from the no less noxious influence of a too luxuriant vegetation.

I am comforted that the sombre style, in which your letter commences, brightens on its progress. Your heart cheers and expands beneath the local influence of your scene, rising to your pen; that scene, so lovely, and so beloved! You delineate its rude, native graces; then paint it cultured and adorned as it is by your sylvan industry and taste; and this in colours so vivid, that they pass before my memory in all their charms. Ah! will they ever again meet my actual vision? Ill health, war, which, upon the system it is now carried on, must be interminable at any period, short of that which shall bring utter distress and ruin upon this country; heavier and heavier ministerial depredations every year on our property!-Circumstances like these darken the perspective of hope, when it is bent on the far distant habitations of our friends.

I am charmed with the new ebullition, in your last, of connubial love and gratitude. Long may the priceless blessing remain to you, the value of which you so justly, and so amiably appreciate. The venerable Mrs Whalley, senior, your excellent mother, alive at 96, and in full possession of her faculties! May the attenuated thread of her

existence be yet longer spun, even till intellect and comfort will be its associates no more.

Have you read that sublimely fabulous novel St Leon? My literary correspondent, Mr Fellowes, thus speaks of it:

"I think this work of Godwin's atones for the former paradoxes of his vanity or errors of his heart. Godwin appears to possess a mind open

to conviction, and to be in train to be a Christian. His opinions have lately undergone strange changes. He who is so lately become the warm and eloquent panegyrist of connubial love, domestic sympathy, and kindred connections, is likely to feel, at length, the beautiful simplicity of the Christian doctrine, and to enter himself the able champion of revelation; but to return to his novel. What a picture of terrific sublimity is exhibited in the person of Bethlem Gabor! I contemplated it with awe, and my aversion to such utter extinction of sympathy in an human heart was almost subdued by the grandeur which envelopes every lineament of his ferocity. The character of St Leon also is conceived with distinctness, and maintained with consistency. The power of early impressions in weaving the inextricable web of the future character, is marked with great ability, and nice discrimination. The misery associated with the extraordinary powers

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possessed by St Leon, must make a highly moral impression on the mind, teaching it that acquiescence in the present state of things, which is essential to happiness. It proves that the greatest curse which could be inflicted on man, would be the gratification of his boundless wishes; and that while a certain degree of security is necessary to our enjoyments, there is a degree of it which, in the present frame and temper of the human heart, would be the destruction of our happiness." Adieu.

LETTER LII.

EDWARD JERNINGHAM, ESQ.

Lichfield, June 23, 1800.

THANK you for your interesting * volume, our attention to my health, your friendly counsel. I was at Buxton when these testimonies of friendship arrived at Lichfield. Your letter followed me

* Select Sermons, translated from the French of Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, to which is prefixed an Essay on the Eloquence of the Pulpit in England. Printed for Clark, New Bond Street, 1800.