Hall, and now we have nobody. The Throckmortons are gone into Berkshire, and the Courteneys into Yorkshire. They are so pleasant a family, that I heartily wish you to see them; and at the same time wish to see you before they return, which will not be sooner than October. How shall I reconcile these wishes seemingly opposite? Why, by wishing that you may come soon and stay long. I know no other way of doing it.

My poor Mary is much as usual. I have set up Homer's head, and inscribed the pedestal; my own Greek at the top with your translation under it, and

Ως δη παις ω πατρι, &c.

It makes altogether a very smart and learned appearance.

LETTER LXXXI.

To Lady HESKETH.

W. C.

August 29, 1793.

Your question, at what time your

coming to swill be most agreeable, is a knotty one, and such as, had I the wisdom of Solomon, I should be puzzled to answer. I will therefore leave it still a question, and refer the time of your journey Weston-ward entirely to your own election; adding this one limitation however, that I do not wish to see you exactly at pre

sent, on account of the unfinished state of my study, the wainscot of which still smells of paint, and which is not yet papered. But to return; as I have insinuated, thy pleasant company is the thing which I always wish, and as much at one time as at another. I believe, if I examine myself minutely, since I despair of ever having it in the height of Summer, which for your sake I should desire most, the depth of the Winter is the season which would be most eligible to me. For then it is, that in general I have most need of a cordial, and particularly in the month of January. I am sorry however, that I have departed so far from my first purpose, and am answering a question, which I declared myself unable to answer, Chuse thy own time, secure of this, that whatever time that be, it will always to us be a welcome one.

Letter.

I thank you for your pleasant extract of Miss Fanshaw's

And now, my dear, adieu! I have done more than I expected, and begin to feel myself exhausted with so much scribbling at the end of fours hours' close application to study.

W. C.

LETTER

LETTER LXXXII.

To the Revd. Mr. JOHNSON.

Weston, Sept. 6, 1793.

MY DEAREST JOHNNY,

To do a kind thing, and in a kind

manner, is a double kindness, and no man is more addicted to both than you, or more skilful in contriving them.

Your plan to sur

prise me agreeably succeeded to admiration. It was only the day before yesterday, that, while we walked after dinner in the orchard, Mrs. Unwin between Sam and me, hearing the Hall-clock, I observed a great difference between that and ours, and began immediately to lament, as I had often done, that there was not a sun-dial in all Weston to ascertain the true time for us. My complaint was long, and lasted, till, having turned into the grass-walk, we reached the new building at the end of it; where we sat awhile and reposed ourselves. In a few minutes we returned by the way we came, when what think you was my astonishment to see what I had not seen before, though I had passed close by it, a smart sun-dial mounted on a smart stone pedestal! I assure you it seemed the effect of conjuration. I stopped short, and exclaimed,—“ Why, here is a sun-dial, and upon our own ground! How is this? Tell me, Sam, how came it here? Do you know any thing about it?" At first I really thought (that is to say, as soon as I could think at all) that this fac-totum of mine, Sam Roberts, having often heard me de

plore

plore the want of one, had given orders for the supply of that want himself, without my knowledge, and was half pleased and half offended. But he soon exculpated himself by imputing the fact to you. It was brought up to Weston (it seems) about noon: but Andrews stopped the cart at the blacksmith's, whence he sent to enquire, if I was gone to my walk. As it happened, I walked not till two o'clock. So there it stood waiting till I should go forth, and was introduced before my return. Fortunately too I went out at the church end of the village, and consequently saw nothing of it. How I could possibly pass it without seeing it, when it stood in the walk, I know not; but it is certain, that I did. And where I shall fix it now, I know as little. It cannot stand between the two gates, the place of your choice, as I understand from Samuel, because the hay-cart must pass that way in the season. But we are now busy in winding the walk all round the orchard, and in so doing shall doubtless stumble at last upon some open spot that will suit it.

There it shall stand, while I live, a constant monument of your kindness.

I have this moment finished the twelfth book of the Odyssey, and I read the Iliad to Mrs. Unwin every evening.

The effect of this reading is, that I still spy blemishes, something at least, that I can mend; so, that after all, the transcript of alterations which you and George have made will not be a perfect

one.

one. It would be foolish to forego an opportunity of improvement for such a reason; neither will I. It is ten o'clock, and I must breakfast. Adieu, therefore, my dear Johnny! Remember your appointment to see us in October. Ever yours.

LETTER LXXXIII.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, Esqr.

W. C.

Sept. 8, 1793.

Non sum quod simulo, my dearest Brother! I seem cheerful upon paper sometimes, when I am absolutely the most dejected of all creatures. Desirous, however, to gain something myself by my own Letters, unprofitable as they may and must be to my friends, I keep melancholy out of them as much as I can, that I may, if possible, by assuming a less gloomy air deceive myself, and by feigning with a continuance, improve the fiction into reality.

So you have seen Flaxman's figures, which I intended you should not have seen, till I had spread them before you. How did you dare to look at them? You should have covered your eyes with both hands. Iam charmed with Flaxman's Penelope, and though you don't deserve, that I should, will send you a few Lines, such

as