a very bloody, and difficult attempt. If therefore he asserts what you have been told, it is very strange. When I see you, I shall tell you more; and even this, if you do not hear it publicly said, I should wish you would not mention.

I want to know what is said of our captain-general's resignation1 and the causes of it, for this seems a more extraordinary thing than the other. Adieu, dear Sir, I am ever faithfully yours.

October 31, 1757.

CXXXVIII. TO THOMAS WHARTON.

December 8, 1757.

DEAR DOCTOR-I have received the draught you were so good to send me, and the money is paid. You apprehend too much from my resolutions about writing they are only made to be broken, and after all it will be just as the maggot bites. You have a very mean opinion of the epic, if you think it consists only in laying out a plan. In four and twenty years at a moderate computation I may have finished twelve books, and nine years after I hope to publish. I shall then be 74 years old, and I shall get £500 for the copy to make me easy for the remainder of my days. Somebody has directed a letter to the Revd. Mr. G. at Strawberry Hill, which was sent me yesterday

1 I suppose that this relates to the resignation of the command of the army by the D. of Cumberland, after the capitulation of Closter-Seven. -[Mit.]

hither. It is anonymous, consists of above nine pages, all about the "Bard," and if I would hear as much more about his companion, I am to direct to the Post House at Andover.1 I do not know but I may have that curiosity, for his observations (whoever it is) are not nonsense. He takes the liberty of a person unknown, and treats me with abundance of freedom. I guess it to be some reading clergyman. Mr. Brown and I join in our best compliments to Mrs. Wharton, and I am, dear Sir, most sincerely yours, T. G.

CXXXIX.-TO THE REV. WILLIAM MASON.

December 19, 1757.

DEAR MASON-Though I very well know the bland emollient saponaceous qualities both of sack and silver, yet if any great man would say to me, "I make you

1 Gray's, then unknown, critic and correspondent was, I believe, "Mr. J. Butler, of Andover." In a MS. letter from Gray to Dodsley (which Mr. Bindley purchased at the sale of Mr. Isaac Reed's books, subsequently bought by Mr. Rogers at Bindley's sale for eighteen guineas), after he has mentioned how he wishes his poems to be printed, and added some notes, etc., he says, "When you have done, I shall desire you to present, in my name, a copy to Mr. Walpole, in Arlington Street; another to Mr. Daines Barrington (he is one of the Welsh judges) in the Inner Temple; and a third, to Mr. J. Butler, at Andover. Whether this latter gentleman is living or not, or in that neighbourhood, I am ignorant; but you will oblige me in making the enquiry. If you have no better means of knowing, a line directed to the post mistress, at Andover, will bring you information; after this you may, if you please, bestow another copy or two on me. I am, etc."-[Mit.]

rat-catcher to his Majesty, with a salary of £300 a year and two butts of the best Malaga; and though it has been usual to catch a mouse or two, for form's sake, in public once a year, yet to you, sir, we shall not stand upon these things," I cannot say I should jump at it; nay, if they would drop the very name of the office, and call me Sinecure to the King's Majesty, I should still feel a little awkward, and think everybody I saw smelt a rat about me; but I do not pretend to blame any one else that has not the same sensations; for my part I would rather be serjeant trumpeter or pinmaker to the palace. Nevertheless I interest myself a little in the history of it, and rather wish somebody may accept it that will retrieve the credit of the thing, if it be retrievable, or ever had any credit. Rowe was, I think, the last man of character that had it. As to Settle,1 whom you mention, he belonged to my lord mayor not to the king. Eusden 2 was a person of great hopes in his youth, though at last he turned out a drunken parson. Dryden was as disgraceful to the office, from his character, as the poorest scribbler could have been from his verses. The office itself has always humbled the professor hitherto (even in an age when kings were somebody), if he were a

1 Elkanah Settle, born 1646, died 1724; the last of the city poets.

2 Appointed poet-laureate by Lord Halifax, in 1716. He was rector of Coningsby in Lincolnshire (which afterwards received another poet, Dyer, the author of the Fleece), where he died in 1730.

poor writer by making him more conspicuous, and if he were a good one by setting him at war with the little fry of his own profession, for there are poets little enough to envy even a poet-laureat.

I am obliged to you for your news; pray send me some more, and better of the sort. I can tell you nothing in return; so your generosity will be the greater;-only Dick1 is going to give up his rooms, and live at Ashwell. Mr. Treasurer2 sets Sir M. Lamb3 at nought, and says he has sent him reasons half a sheet at a time; and Mr. Brown attests his veracity as an eye-witness. I have had nine pages of criticism on the "Bard" sent me in an anonymous letter, directed to the Reverend Mr. G. at Strawberry Hill; and if I have a mind to hear as much more on the other Ode, I am told where I may direct. He seems a good sensible man, and I dare say a clergyHe is very frank, and indeed much ruder than he means to be. Adieu, dear Mason, and believe me that I am too.

man.

1 Dick is the Rev. Richard Forester, mentioned before, in Letter CXXIV., son of Poulter Forester, Esq. of Broadfield, Herts. He vacated his fellowship at the end of the year 1757, and went to Ashwell in his own county.-[Mit.]

2 Mr. Joseph Gaskarth was the college treasurer, but the subject of his disagreement with Sir M. Lamb does not appear to be known.-[Mit.]

3 Probably Sir Matthew Lamb, of Brocket Hall, Herts, created a Baronet in 1755; father of the first Lord Melbourne. He died 6th November 1768.-[Mit.]

CXL. TO THE REV. WILLIAM MASON.

January 3, 1758.

DEAR MASON-A life spent out of the world has its hours of despondence, its inconveniences, its sufferings, as numerous and as real (though not quite of the same sort) as a life spent in the midst of it. The power we have, when we will exert it, over our own minds, joined to a little strength and consolation, nay, a little pride we catch from those that seem to love us, is our only support in either of these conditions. I am sensible I cannot return to you so much of this assistance as I have received from you. I can only tell you that one who has far more reason than you (I hope) will ever have to look on life with something worse than indifference, is yet no enemy to it, and can look backward on many bitter moments partly with satisfaction, and partly with patience, and forward too, on a scene not very promising, with some hope and some expectations of a better day. The conversation you mention seems to me to have been in some measure the cause of your reflection. As you do not describe the manner (which is very essential, and yet cannot easily be described), to be sure I can judge but very imperfectly of it. But if (as you say) it ended very amicably, why not take it as amicably? In most cases I am a great friend to éclaircissements; it is no pleasant task to enter upon them, therefore it is always some merit in the