who does not fleep well, and who has not fome little degree of animation in the day time. Last night, however, quite contrary to my expectations, the fever left me entirely, and I flept quietly, foundly, and long. If it please God that it return not, I fhall foon find myself in a condition to proceed. I walk conftantly, that is to fay, Mrs. Unwin and I together; for at these times I keep her continually employed, and never fuffer her to be absent from me many minutes. She gives me all her time, and all her attention, and forgets that there is another object in the world.

Mrs. Carter thinks on the subject of dreams as every body elfe does, that is to fay, according to her own experience. She has had no extraordinary ones, and therefore accounts them only the ordinary operations of the fancy. Mine are of a texture that will not suffer me to afcribe them to fo inadequate a caufe, or to any cause but the operation of an exterior agency. I have a mind, my dear, (and to you I will venture to boast of it) as free from fuperftition as any man living, neither do I give heed to dreams in general as predictive, though particular dreams I believe to be fo. Some very fenfible perfons, and I fuppofe Mrs. Carter among them, will acknowledge that in old times God spoke by dreams, but affirm with much boldness, that he has fince ceased to do fo. If you ask them why? They answer, because he has now revealed his will in the Scripture, and there is no longer any need that he fhould inftruct or admonish us by dreams. I grant that with respect to doctrines and precepts, he has left us in want of nothing; but has he thereby precluded himself in any of the operations of his Providence? Surely not. It is perfectly a different confideration; and the fame need that there ever was of his interference in this way, there is still and ever must be, while man continues blind and fallible, and a creature befet with dangers,

which he can neither forefee nor obviate. His operations however of this kind are, I allow, very rare; and as to the generality of dreams, they are made of fuch ftuff, and are in themselves fo infignificant, that though I believe them all to be the manufacture of others, not our own, ccount it not a farthing matter who manufactures them. So much for dreams.

My fever is not yet gone, but fometimes feems to leave me. It is altogether of the nervous kind, and attended, now and then, with much dejection.

A young gentleman called here yesterday, who, came fix miles out of his way to fee me. He was on a journey to London from Glasgow, having just left the univerfity there. He came, I fuppofe, partly to fatisfy his own curiofity, but chiefly, as it seemed, to bring me the thanks of fome of the Scotch Profeffors for my two volumes. His name is Rofe, an Englishman. Your fpirits being good, you will derive more pleasure from. this incident than I can at present, therefore L fend it. Adieu. W. C..

DEAR SIR,

LETTER LXVIII.

To SAMUEL ROSE, Efq..

WESTON, July 24th, 1787.

THIS is the first time I have written these fix months, and nothing but the constraint of obligation could induce me to write now.. I cannot be fo wanting to myself as not to endeavour, at least, to thank you both for the vifits with which you have favoured me, and the poems that you fent me; in my prefent ftate of mind I tafte nothing; nevertheless I read; partly from habit, and partly because it is the only thing that I am capable of.

I have therefore read Burns' Poems, and have read them twice. And though they be written in a language that is new to me, and many of them on subjects much inferior to the author's ability, I think them on the whole a very extraordinary production. He is, I believe, the only Poet these kingdoms have produced in the lower rank of life, fince Shakespeare, I fhould rather fay fince Prior, who need not be indebted for any part of his praise, to a charitable confideration of his origin, and the difadvantages under which he has laboured. It will be pity if he fhould not hereafter diveft himself of barbarism, and content himself with writing pure English, in which he appears perfectly qualified to excel. He who can command admiration, dilhonours himself if he aims no higher than to raise a laugh.

I am, dear Sir, with my best wishes for your profperity, and with Mrs. Unwin's refpects,

Your obliged and affectionate humble fervant,

W. C.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER LXIX.

To SAMUEL ROSE, Efq.

WESTON, Aug. 27, 1787.

I HAVE not yet taken up the pen again, except to write to you. The little taste that I have had of your company, and your kindness in finding me out, make me wifh, that we were nearer neighbours, and that there were not fo great a difparity in our years; that is to fay, not that you were older, but that I were younger. Could we have met in early life, I flatter myself that we might have been more intimate, than now we are likely to be. But you fhall not find me flow to cultivate fuch a measure of your regard, as your friends of your own age can fpare me. When

your route fhall lie through this country, I fhall hope that the fame kindness which has prompted you twice to call on me, will prompt you again; and I fhall be happy if on a future occafion, I may be able to give you a more cheerful reception, than can be expected from an invalid. My health and fpirits are confiderably improved, and I once more affociate with my neighbours. My head however has been the worst part of me, and still continues fo; is fubject to giddinefs and pain, maladies very unfavourable to poetical employment; but a preparation of the Bark, which I take regularly, has so far been of service to me in those respects, as to encourage in me a hope, that by perfeverance in the use of it, I may poffibly find myfelf qualified to refume the Tranflation of Homer.

When I cannot walk, I read; and read perhaps more than is good for me. But I cannot be idle. The only merсу that I fhew myself in this respect is, that I read nothing that requires much clofenefs of application. I lately finished the perufal of a book, which in former years I have more than once attacked, but never till now conquered; fome other book always interfered, before I could finish it. The work I mean is Barclay's Argenis, and if ever you allow yourself to read for mere amusement, I can recommend it to you (provided you have not already perufed it) as the most amusing romance that ever was written. It is the only one indeed of an old date that I ever had the patience to go through with. It is interesting in a high degree; richer in incident than can be imagined, full of furprizes, which the reader never foreftalls, and yet free from all entanglement and confufion. The ftyle too appears to me to be fuch as would not dishonour Tacitus himself.

Poor Burns lofes much of his deferved praife in this country, through our ignorance of his language. I defpair of meeting with any Englishman who will take the

pains that I have taken to understand him. His candfe is bright, but shut up in a dark lantern. I lent him to a very fenfible neighbour of mine, but his uncouth dialect spoiled all, and before he had half read him through, he was quite ramfeezled.

LETTER LXX.

WM. COWPER.

To Lady HESKETH.

MY DEAREST COUSIN,

THE LODGE, Aug. 30, 1787

THOUGH it cofts me fomething to write, it would cost me more to be filent. My intercourse with my neighbours being renewed, I can no longer feem to forget how many reasons there are why you efpecially fhould not be neglected; no neighbour indeed, but the kindeft of my friends, and ere long I hope, an inmate.

My health and spirits feem to be mending daily. To what end I know not, neither will conjecture, but endeav-our, as far as I can, to be content that they do fo. I use exercise, and take the air in the Park and Wilderness. I read much, but, as yet, write not. Our friends at the Hall make themfelves more and more amiable in our account, by treating us rather as old friends, than as friends newly acquired. There are few days in which we do not meet, and I am now almost as much at home in their houfe as in our own. Mr. Throckmorton having long fince put me in poffeffion of all his ground, has now given me poffeffion of his library. An acquifition of great value to me, who never have been able to live without books fince I first knew my letters, and who have no books of my own. By his means I have been fo well fupplied, that I have not yet even looked at the Lounger, for which however I do not forget that I am obliged to you. His turn comes next, and I fhall probably begin him to-morrow.