with your employment in Weftminster-Hall, I cannot help telling you, that for as many days as you can fpare between this time and the meeting of parliament you will find a warm bed, and a hearty welcome at Chilbolton. Mrs. Shipley and her daughters defire their compliments, and join in the inviI am, &c.

tation.

J. ST. ASAPH.

Mr. JONES to Mr. CARTWRIGHT.

DEAR SIR;

Dec. 20, 1781.

Since I received your obliging letter an interval of fix months has elapfed, but in all that interval, I have either been deeply engaged in profeffional labours, or confined by illnefs: I have enjoyed no reft. At this moment I am flowly recovering from a fevere inflammatory diforder; yet your letter and your fine fonnets have remained conftantly on my mind, and I now take up my pen to thank you most warmly for the pleafure which they have given me. I hope my

friend Watfon has feen the noble wreath of

laurel which

your

animated mufe has woven

for him. I entreat you to fend me the two

others, which I long to fee.

The few copies

which were printed of the

Latin ode are so

difperfed, that I have not one for myself, and would print a few more, if a learned friend of mine had not engaged to publish it with notes, historical and critical, for want of which, it is in fome parts obfcure. You may depend on receiving one of the first copies that can fee the light, and my feven Arabian poets will wait upon you as foon as the European dreffes are finished. I take the liberty to enclofe an ode compofed without préparation, and almost without any premeditation: it is the work of a few hours. In truth, when I attended the wedding, I had no thought of writing, but the young ladies would not hear of an excufe: you must therefore make all due allowance for poetry by compulfion.

my

Mr. JONES to Lord ALTHORP.

January 5, 1782.

O la bella cofa il far niente! This was

exclamation, my dear Lord, on the 12th of last month, when I found myself, as I thought, at liberty to be a rambler, or an idler, or any thing I pleased: but my mal di gola took ample revenge for my abuse and contempt of it, when I wrote to you, by confining me twelve days with a fever and quinfey and I am now fo cramped by the approaching feffion at Oxford, that I cannot make any long excurfion. I enclose my tragical fong of "á fhepherdefs going," with Mazzanti's music, of which my opinion at prefent is, that the modulation is very artificial, and the harmony good, but that Pergolefi (whom the modern Italians are fuch puppies as to undervalue) would have made it more pathetic and heart-rending, if I may compofe fuch a word. I long to hear it fung by Mrs. Poyntz. Pray prefent the enclosed, in my name, to Lady Althorp. I

hope that I fhall in a fhort time be able to think of you, when I read these charming lines of Catullus*:

And soon to be completely blest,

Soon may a young Torquatus rise;
Who, hanging on his mother's breast,
To his known sire shall turn his eyes,
Out-stretch his infant arms awhile,
Half ope his little lips and smile.

(Printed Translation.)

What a beautiful picture! can Dominichino equal it? How weak are all arts in comparison of poetry and rhetoric! Instead however of Torquatus, I would read Spencerus. Do you not think that I have difcovered the true ufe of the fine arts, namely, in relaxing the mind after toil? Man was born for labour; his configuration, his paffions, his restlefsnefs, all prove it; but labour would wear him out, and the purpose of it

*The original is quoted by Mr. Jones :

Torquatus volo parvulus,

Matris è gremio suæ

Porrigens teneras manus,
Dulce rideat ad patrem,

Semi-hiante labello.

be defeated, if he had not intervals of plea fure; and unless that pleasure be innocent, both he and fociety muft fuffer. Now what pleasures are more harmless, if they be nothing else, than those afforded by polite arts and polite literature? Love was given us by the Author of our being as the reward of virtue, and the folace of care; but the bafe and fordid forms of artificial, (which I oppofe to natural,) fociety in which we live, have encircled that heavenly rose with so many thorns, that the wealthy alone can gather it with prudence. On the other hand, mere pleasure, to which the idle are not justly entitled, foon fatiates, and leaves a vacuity in the mind more unpleasant than actual pain. A juft mixture, or interchange of labour and pleasures, appears alone conducive to fuch happiness as this life affords. Farewell. I have no room to add my ufelefs name, and still more useless profeffions of friendship.

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The fentiments expreffed in this letter do