well as French and Italian, with great elegance: but what adds to the wonder she excites is, that all this learning has not made her the less reasonable woman, the less dutiful daughter, or the less agreeable and faithful friend.

66

My lord has just brought from London a poem, called a Canto of Spenser; but it is written by Mr. West, a nephew of my lord Cobham. As it is one of the best imitations that I have seen for a great while, if I knew how to convey it to you I would send it along with Gustavus Vasa, which is just come out; clouded with an angry preface, a stupid prologue, and a more than nonsensical epilogue.

"I am afraid you will think, dear madam, that I am taking upon me to write literary memoirs; but you must consider that a grateful heart would make some return, though ever so poor, for the benefits it receives; and as I have no fund within myself to entertain you, I naturally endeavour to furnish myself from the stock of others.

"F. HERTFORD."

The following agreeable lines are descriptive of her ladyship's rural pastimes and occupations:

"We sometimes ride and sometimes walk,
We play at chess, or laugh, or talk;

6 A tragedy of Henry Brooke's, which was prohibited by the lord-chamberlain from being performed in England, but was acted, with some alterations, on the Irish stage, by the title of the Patriot. Biog. Dram. vol. ii. p. 142.

Sometimes beside the crystal stream
We meditate some serious theme,
Or in the grot, beside the spring,
We hear the feather'd warblers sing.
Shakspeare, perhaps, an hour diverts,
Or Scott directs to mend our hearts,
With Clarke, GOD's attributes explore,
And taught by him, admire them more.
Gay's Pastorals sometimes delight us,
Or Tasso's grisly spectres fright us:
Sometimes we trace Armida's bowers,
And view Rinaldo chain'd with flowers.
Often from thoughts sublime as these,
I sink at once — – and make a cheese;
Or see my various poultry fed,
And treat my swans with scraps of bread.
Sometimes upon the smooth canal
We row the boat, or spread the sail,
Till the bright evening-star is seen,
And dewy spangles deck the green :
Then tolls the bell, and all unite

In pray'r, that God would bless the night!
From this (though I confess the change
From pray'r to cards is somewhat strange),
To cards we go till ten has struck;
And then, however bad our luck,

Our stomachs ne'er refuse to eat

Eggs, cream, fresh butter, or calves-feet;
And cooling fruits, or savoury greens
'Sparagus, peas, or kidney-beans.
Our supper past, an hour we sit,
And talk of history, Spain, or wit;
But scandal far is banish'd hence,
Nor dares intrude with false pretence

Of pitying looks, or holy rage
Against the vices of the age:

We know we all were born in sin,
And find enough to blame within." 7]

7 Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 39.

R 4

Pub Feb 1.1807 by J Scott 443 Strand.