and that master Henry, in particular, was rather shallow," but that he had refrained from telling me, because he thought it would vex me. Now, as to the vexing me, it only has afforded me a hearty laugh. I sent my compliments to one great lady, whom I heard propagating this ridiculous report, and congratulated her on her ingenuity, telling her, as a great secret, that neither my sister, for myself, had any claim to any of the Poems, for the right author was the Great Mogul's cousin german. The best part of the story is, that my good friend * found means to get me to write verses extempore, to prove whether I could tag rhymes or not, which, it seems, he doubted.

TO MR. B. MADDOCK.

MY DEAR BEN,

Nottingham, 7th July, 1804.

THE real wants of life are few; the support of the body, simply, is no expensive matter, and as we are not mad upon silks and satins, the covering of it will not be more costly. The only superfluity I should covet would

be books, but I have learned how to abridge that pleasure; and having sold the flower of my library for the amazing sum of Six Guineas, I mean to try whether meditation will not supply the place of general reading, and probably, by the time I am poor and needy, I shall look upon a large library like a fashionable wardrobe, goodly and pleasant, but as to the real utility, indifferent.

be

So much for Stoicism, and now for Monachism.-I shall never, never marry! It cannot, must not be. As to affections, mine are already engaged as much as they will ever be, and this is one reason why I believe my life will be a life of celibacy. I pray to God that it may So, and that I may be happy in that state. I love too ardently to make love innocent, and therefore I say farewell to it. Besides, I have another inducement, I cannot introduce a woman into poverty for my love's sake, nor could I well bear to see such an one as I must marry struggling with narrow circumstances, and sighing for the fortunes of her children.-No, I say, forbear! and may the example of St. Gregory of Naz. and St. Basil support me.

All friends are well, except your humble scribe, who has got a little too much into his old way since your departure. Studying and musing, and dreaming of every thing but his health; still amid all his studyings, musings, and dreams,

Your true friend and brother,
H. K. WHITE.

I CAN now inform you, that I have reason to believe my way through College is clear before me. From what source I know not; but through the hands of Mr. Simeon, I am provided with 301. per annum; and while things go on so prosperously as they do now, I can com→ mand 201. or 301. more from my friends, and this, in all probability, until I take my degree. The friends to whom I allude are my mother and brother.

My mother has, for these five years past, kept a Boarding School in Nottingham; and, so long as her school continues in its present state, she can supply me with 151. or 201. per annum, without inconvenience; but should she die, (and her health is, I fear, but infirm), that resource will altogether fail. Still, I think, my prospect is so good as to preclude any anxiety on my part; and perhaps my income will be more than adequate to my wants, as I shall be a Sizar of St. John's, where the College emoluments are more than commonly large.

In this situation of my affairs, you will perhaps agree with me in thinking that a subscription for a volume of poems will not be necessary; and, certainly, that mea

sure is one which will be better avoided, if it may be; I have lately looked over what poems I have by me in manuscript, and find them more numerous than I expected; but many of them would perhaps be styled mopish and maukish, and even misanthropic, in the language of the world, though, from the latter sentiment, I am sure I can say, no one is more opposite than I am. These poems, therefore, will never see the light, as from a teacher of that word which gives all strength to the feeble, more fortitude and christian philosophy may, with justice, be expected than they display. The remainder of my verses would not possess any great interest: mere description is often mere nonsense: and I have acquired a strange habit, whenever I do point out a train of moral sentiment from the contemplation of a picture, to give it a gloomy and querulous cast, when there is nothing in the occasion but what ought to inspire joy and gratitude. I have one poem, however, of some length, which I shall preserve; and I have another of considerable magnitude in design, but of which only a part is written, which I am fairly at a loss whether to commit to the flames, or at some future opportunity to finish. The subject is the Death of Christ. I have no friend whose opinion is at all to be relied on, to whom I could submit it; and perhaps, after all, it may be absolutely worthless.

With regard to that part of my provision which is

* TIME is probably the poem alluded to.

derived from my unknown friend, it is of course conditional; and as it is not a provision for a poet, but for a candidate for orders, I believe it is expected, and indeed it has been hinted as a thing adviseable, that I should barter the muses for mathematics, and abstain from writing verses at least, until I take my degree. If I find that all my time will be requisite, in order to prepare for the important office I am destined to fill, I shall certainly do my duty, however severely it may cost me; but if I find I may lawfully and conscientiously relax myself at intervals, with, those delightful reveries, which have hitherto formed the chief pleasure of my life, I ́ shall, without scruple, indulge myself in them.

I know the pursuit of Truth is a much more important business than the exercise of the imagination; and amid all the quaintness, and stiff method of the mathematicians, I can even discover a source of chaste and exalted pleasure. To their severe but salutary discipline, I must now "subdue the vivid shapings of my youth;" and though I shall cast many a fond lingering look to fancy's more alluring paths, yet I shall berepaid by the anticipation of days when I may enjoy the sweet satisfaction of being useful, in no ordinary degree, to my fellow mortals.