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 Book _ : 
 
A 
 
 TOUR 
 
 IN QUEST OF 
 
 GEJVE*AL.QGY 9 
 
 THROUGH SEVERAL PARTS OF 
 
 WALES, SOMERSETSHIRE, 
 
 AND 
 
 WILTSHIRE, 
 
 IV 
 
 & Series of £tttm 
 
 TO A FRIEND IN DUBLIN; 
 
 INTERSPERSED WITH A DESCRIPTION OF 
 
 STOVRHEAD AND STONEHENGE; 
 
 TOGETHER WITH 
 
 VARIOUS ANECDOTES, 
 
 AND 
 
 CURIOUS FRAGMENTS FROM A MANUSCRIPT COLLECTION 
 ASCRIBED TO SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 BY 
 
 A BARRISTER. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PUBLISHED BY SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONE9, 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
 1811 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 THE Editor lamenting that the Copy of this Work was 
 not accompanied with Drawings, as it refers occasionally to 
 so many fine suljecls for the pencil, and being possessed of 
 several, which, though they have already ministered to the 
 embellishment of a periodical publication, yet as they may 
 serve to illustrate some of the scenes in the following pages, 
 presumes to hope that the introduction of them here will 
 neither be reprobated by the author nor tmacceptable to the 
 public. 
 
 StGosNBij,, Printer, Little Queen Street, Loader. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO 
 
 THE HONOURABLE 
 
 M^LTTMKW FQRTESCUE. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 By the abrupt departure of my 
 friend, the writer of the following Letters, 
 from England, in obedience to feelings whose 
 imperiousness no human philosophy has been 
 able to control, and in consequence of the 
 gentleman to whom they w r ere addressed hav- 
 ing decided to publish them, a task has now 
 devolved on me which I fondly flattered myself 
 the author's return into his own country would 
 have relieved me from ; for which reason the pub- 
 lication has hitherto been delayed. But all hopes 
 of that event soon taking place having vanished, 
 
IV 
 
 I hasten to fulfil an engagement I entered into 
 . conditionally. In my absent friend's last letter to me 
 on this subject he says, " Do with my scraps what 
 O'Brien and yoU may think fit; I have sought new 
 countries, to contract, if possible, new thoughts, 
 and should be happy could I discharge from my 
 mind every idea that connects itself with a rooted 
 sorrow that I am labouring to pluck from my 
 memory, and shut out the past; yet there are 
 circumstances during the little excursion you refer 
 to that can never recur but with pleasure, for how 
 can I forget the days we passed at Holnicote ? 
 therefore if any thing is done with the journal of 
 my rambler, testify for me the respect and grati- 
 tude I shall ever entertain for that charming 
 place and its amiable possessors." After such a 
 declaration I think I cannot do less than inscribe 
 this volume to you, as in doing so I know I am 
 gratifying the proudest wish of the author, and 
 at the same time affording myself an opportunity 
 of expressing sentiments similar to his of Holni- 
 cote and its inhabitants, having the honour to be, 
 
 SIR, 
 Your much obliged, 
 
 Humble servant, 
 
 H. JONES, 
 Bath, Not). 20, 1809. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 To Charles O'Brien, Esq. 
 
 London, October 1, ISO?. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I am much delighted with your series of 
 letters to me during your six weeks tour, last sum- 
 mer, to the Lake of Ki Harney, which I have read 
 over and over again, and which, the oftener I 
 read, the higher I value ; and yet it is not so 
 much on account of the elegant local descriptions 
 they abound with that I prize them, however en- 
 riched by your pen and pencil, employed on a 
 landscape so enchanting in itself, and losing no- 
 thing by your representation. 
 
 Your sketches, it must be confessed, speak a 
 master's hand; yet, notwithstanding, in my esti- 
 mate, they form but a secondary consideration. 
 What I most admire is the dramatic form you have 
 contrived to give your letters, by making every 
 coach and every inn furnish you with change of 
 scenes and suitable characters, and an opportunity 
 of introducing your own interesting and ingenious 
 observations on men and manners. 
 
 J5 
 
The history of the human mind for one day, 
 thus morally developed, outweighs the result of 
 a year's modern tour, whose principal merit perhaps 
 consists in ringing trite changes on hill and dale, 
 wood and water, mountain and valley — subjects, 
 after all, of confined compass, and liable to a 
 tiresome repetition of the same images and ex- 
 pressions, even with the aid of the most Gilpin- 
 ized phraseology, or the pencil of a Sandby. 
 
 Encouraged by your pressing recommendation 
 to me, of the same method you have adopted 
 in your excursions, and flattered by your partiality 
 to think I shall succeed, in my intended tour I 
 mean to attempt it, though I am certain I shall 
 follow you " hand passibus tfquis" 
 
 Indeed, I congratulate myself that part of my 
 journey will lead me not hurryingly through North 
 Wales, a country of * which you or I know 
 little more than we could gather in, I may say, 
 Quvjlight (and chiefly by night) through it, when 
 two years ago I accompanied you to Ireland, after 
 
 the death of our valuable relation, Lady M , 
 
 who had brought you up, being your first visit to 
 your native land since your migration when an 
 infant. I recollect, that, little as we saw of it, we 
 saw enough of its sublime scenery to beget in us 
 an earnest desire to visit it again, when we should 
 have leisure to examine it in detail. But I was no 
 less tantalized by the flight through North Wales, 
 than by the glance I had of your country, during 
 my short stay of three weeks there, in which time 
 such 4 variety of objects were presented to me, 
 
and in such rapid succession, that I had not time 
 to form a clear and distinct idea of any thing I 
 saw ; so that I recollect every thing as in a state of 
 chaos. 
 
 I have heen setting out this fortnight; but some 
 untoward circumstance perpetually turns up, to 
 occasion a change or delay in my plans. I must 
 now wait for some papers from Ireland, by which 
 my future movements must be governed, but I 
 expect them every post. 
 
 In one of your entertaining letters from Killar- 
 ney, I am sorry to hear you quote Ossian's Poems 
 as an authority for the costume of the age they 
 refer to, as if they were real. Can you for a mo- 
 ment seriously think them so? If you do, I flat- 
 ter myself I shall be able to shake your belief, and 
 overcome your prejudice, by an account which I 
 am indebted to Jones for, furnishing arguments to 
 establish the imposture that, in my humble opi- 
 nion, are unanswerable. 
 
 Jones had it from a relation, a great amateur of 
 painting, and a friend of Mortimer, an inge- 
 nious young artist, and the most fashionable de- 
 signer of his day. This gentleman happened to 
 be on a visit to Mr. Mortimer, when Mr. Mac- 
 pherson called to consult him about a set of 
 designs for his Ossian, which he was now about 
 to serve up whole, having already treated the 
 public with a taste of it, and for that purpose had 
 brought his manuscript with him. He described 
 it as a bulky quarto volume, with " a small rivulet 
 of text running through a large meadow of mai* 
 
gin." Mr. Mortimer having introduced hi* ama- 
 teur friend, from whose classical taste he promised 
 to himself much assistance in settling the subjects 
 of the designs, the counterfeit son of Fingal, the 
 bard of woody Morven, seated himself between 
 Mr. Mortimer and his friend, and spread out his 
 manuscript. They went cursorily through the 
 whole volume; and Jones's relation informed him, 
 that almost in every page there were frequent re- 
 ferences from the narrow text to the spacious 
 margin, where a new passage was suggested totally 
 different from that in the body of the work, not 
 only in the expression, but also in the substance 
 and thought ; as much as to say, " Utrum horum 
 mavis, accipe" — a latitude that no translation would 
 admit of, if there existed an original; and then, 
 as a proof of genius, by way of literary imposture, 
 it is but a poor thing — the mask is too thin — read 
 one page, and you read the whole — a disgusting 
 reverberation of the same turgid and unnatural 
 ideas! specious bombast! 
 
 The air you sent me, entitled Dermofs Welcome, 
 is an exquisite relic of your ancient music, though 
 Jones, who is my oracle in all things relating to 
 Wales, will have it to be of Cambrian origin, 
 borrowed, if not stolen, from the musical treasures, 
 which Grufvdd ap Cynan carried with him to Ire- 
 land, where he long- remained a fugitive; for 
 Jones says, he has, in a manuscript collection of 
 Welsh music in his possession, an air so much akin 
 to it, in name and subject, that he makes no 
 doubt but they are of one family. His air is called. 
 
Cresaw Cynan, Cynan's Welcome ; whereas yours, 
 altered by the Irish, bears a title rather more ap- 
 propriate, and justly complimentary to Dermot, 
 their monarch, at whose couit the distressed prince 
 of North Wales found refuge ; the only difference 
 is in the name, the one applying to the person 
 giving, the other to the person receiving the wel- 
 come. 
 
 I know vour country contends for having been 
 the instructor of Wales as to music ; but Jones as 
 strenuously insists, that all the harmony you boast 
 of may be dated from Grufydd ap Cynan's sojourn 
 amongst you. I recollect to have heard the late 
 Mr. Barthelemon, from whom I once took lessons 
 on the violin, say, that music among the Welsh 
 was reduced to a science before it was scarcely 
 known or cultivated in any other part of Europe, 
 and that some of the most beautiful passages in 
 Corelli's works were evidently garbled from Welsh 
 music, which perhaps he might have picked up in 
 Britainy. He likewise told me, that he was then 
 employed in translating some curious Welsh music, 
 from the most ancient notation to the modern 
 gamut, being the only man perhaps in the king- 
 dom, or in Europe, equal to the task. 
 
 I believe this is the first time you have heard 
 of my attempting to become a musician; and you 
 may be induced to ask, knowing I do not play, 
 why I shrunk from it. I found I had mistaken 
 my talents and my instrument, for the violin ad- 
 mits of no mediocrity ; you should play well, or 
 not at all; and to excel required more time than I 
 
 u3 
 
could afford, and more genius and perseverance 
 than I was master of. 
 
 Io Paean !— I have, since you heard from me, com- 
 menced my debut at Westminster, by making* a 
 motion in the court of King's Bench last Trinity 
 Term; but, alas! I rind too late, that I have as much 
 mistaken my profession as I did my instrument 
 when I conceited that I should have proved a 
 violin-player. You gave me credit for being a 
 dashing impudent fellow when at College and the 
 Temple ; and in our little circle, not the most silent 
 and saturnine, I was as loquacious, voluble, and 
 argumentative, as the best of you; and yet to 
 think of this paltry motion, unhinged me for a 
 week. I literally lost my sight and hearing for a 
 few minutes, and how my tongue did its office I 
 know not. Do you think I shall ever get the 
 better of it, and that my nerves will recover their 
 tone ? I fear not ; for, by way of further proba- 
 tion, I went the Home Circuit, and held a brief as 
 opening counsel ; but in this essay was not more 
 successful than in the former; for if I did see 
 and hear at all, I saw double, and heard wrongly 
 and indistinctly. The Chief Baron seemed to me 
 like Ben Lomond capped with snow; and little 
 
 K s by my side outmeasured, to my confused 
 
 vision, the giants at Guildhall ; and to my ears 
 their weak treble was like distant thunder. What 
 enviable assurance has little Nosy, as we used to 
 call him, of Gray's Inn, whom you and I remem- 
 ber three years ago an attorney's runner, coming 
 with cases and instructions to the pleader's office 
 
we were at, and who, with no learning, law, of 
 language, blunders on through thick and thin, hap- 
 pily insensible to his defects, is never thrown 
 off his centre, and in this nice discriminating age, 
 by mere dint of impudence, may arrive at the 
 honour of being clad in scarlet and ermine ! I 
 was told, that once on the circuit, when he was 
 misaccenting words, making false concords, and 
 widely misnaming such technical terms in the law 
 as are derived from French or the dead languages, 
 a brother barrister near him, feeling for the dig- 
 nity of the profession, kindly, in a whisper, set 
 him to rights; but, with contempt for his prompter, 
 and in defiance of accent, quantity, and grammar, 
 he continued to exult in reiterating the same blun- 
 ders, reminding me of the man who, when, at a 
 fashionable table he was not accustomed to, he was 
 eating the wrong end of the asparagus, and was 
 advertised of his error by his neighbour, angrily, 
 with an oath, replied, Why can't I eat which end 
 I please? 
 
 I wish you to consider this letter as a contract, 
 wherein I engage to give you, in an epistolary 
 form, an account of my intended journey, on the 
 model of yours, as well as I can assimilate my style 
 and manner to it; my dramatis persona 4 , I am 
 aware, will not match yours, for, like a well- 
 established manager, you carried your itinerant 
 company with you, whereas I must, in general, 
 trust to casualty for actors ; so that many a scene 
 must consequently be barren of incident and clia- 
 
 B 4 
 
8 
 
 racter, and in which I^must perform Tom Fool 
 solus. Adieu, and believe me ever 
 
 Yours, most sincerely, &c. 
 
 Oxford, October 12, 1807. 
 MY PEAR CHARLES, 
 
 You see I am thus far on my long--pro- 
 jected excursion, but much altered in its course 
 from what was at first planned, it having been my 
 intention to have gone through Oxford to North 
 Wales, and so, by way of Holyhead, to beat up 
 your quarters in the dear country ; but, in conse- 
 quence of a most important circumstance, I must 
 now take a very different route, through a great 
 part of South Wales, to Milford, and thence cross 
 the channel to Somersetshire, and afterwards back 
 to London, where I have engaged to be a fortnight 
 before Christmas. This is my first employment 
 after being set down by the coach from London. 
 The last evening I spent there was extremely plea- 
 sant, and no way inferior to that at Vauxhall, 
 when you were of the party. We dined, the old 
 set, at our friend's in King's Bench Walks, who 
 entertained us most magnificently, treating us 
 with Champaign, true ceil de perdria?, and highly 
 flavoured Burgundy, some of his uncle's old di- 
 plomatic stock ; the sentiment and song went 
 round, and we all seemed 
 
 * f Not touch'd, but rapt y not wajcen d, but inspir'dL'* 
 
At half past nine, with Lord B , our leader, 
 
 we set off to a rout given by an eminent artist, 
 where we found, amongst the most motley com- 
 pany I ever was in, Catalani and Lady H n, 
 
 the former of whom, to my great satisfaction, 
 who was perhaps the only person there who had 
 not heard her, favoured us with a Spanish air, 
 altered by herself, from Camoens, which she ma- 
 naged most enchantingly ; the latter likewise sung 
 with a strain of peculiar witchery, and exhibited 
 attitudes so voluptuously fascinating, that a be- 
 holder much less enthusiastic than myself might 
 have fancied himself transported to the Island of 
 Love, so charmingly described in the Lusiad of 
 Camoens, and losing nothing of its beauties in the 
 translation of Mickle*. Perhaps a cynic might 
 have said, never did a more whimsical mixture 
 ever come together; dancers, singers, posture- 
 viistresses, if not masters, fidlers, painters, dentists, 
 Jew brokers, barristers, a Hopeful Dutchman, a 
 
 Russian bear, a lot of counts, Mons. M n, who 
 
 was minister of France for twenty-four hours, and 
 a quack doctor : nor were the entertainments less 
 diversified; an Italian improvisatore displayed his 
 talent to the admiration of all who heard him ; one 
 of the counts excelled in ventriloquism, another 
 
 * You recollect what Sallust says of Catiline's mistress : 
 " Docta psallere et saltare elegantius quam necesse est prober-," 
 a sentiment that shows what ideas the Romans entertained of fe- 
 male delicacy; a sentiment' that would do honour to the most 
 refined age, and by adopting which, our English ladies of the 
 present day would, in my estimate, lose nothing of their attractions. 
 
10 
 
 far surpassed the late famed Rossignol in avicular 
 
 imitation, whilst a noted frequenter of C n 
 
 House gave us an entertainment of slight-of-hand 
 tricks, and performed en prince ; and a gentleman 
 of Lincoln's Inn treated us with a debate in Par- 
 liament on the Catholic question, taking off the 
 principal speakers in a manner and style, that any 
 person in another room would have supposed every 
 member he personated present, the voice and lan- 
 guage being so admirably imitated. 
 
 It was near twelve when we withdrew from this 
 scene of whimsical festivity, after which I was 
 
 pressed by Lord B , to take a domino at his 
 
 lodgings, and accompany him to a masked ball and 
 supper' at an eminent sugar-baker's in the city, 
 where we arrived at the acme of the gala, and 
 found about a hundred masks; among which we 
 
 thought we recognised the Hon. Mr. L n, so 
 
 celebrated for his original humour in the annals of 
 masquerading, as a schoolmaster; and his friend 
 and masking rival, Mr. C , as a gipsey fortune- 
 teller. The supper was magnificently served, and 
 the sugar-baker's entertainment altogether might 
 justly be called double-refined. About twenty 
 kept on their masks, among whom were the 
 schoolmaster and fortune-teller, who throughout 
 evidently disguised their voices as well as faces and 
 persons. 
 
 By the by, I find Lord B has a. penchant 
 
 for a lady whom he sat by at supper, habited as a 
 nun, with nothing- seemingly of the character 
 about hex kit the dress, with a charming pers^oo* 
 
11 
 
 elegant manners (elegant for the other side of 
 Temple Bar), and reputed to have a fortune of 
 one hundred thousand pounds; a sufficient lure, 
 you will say, to draw a man of fashion from the 
 purlieus of St. James's to Queenhithe or St. Mary 
 Axe. 
 
 What an age we live in ! How every thing is 
 turned topsy-turvy! Who w r ould have thought 
 of a sugar-baker giving a masqued ball? seeing a 
 Prince at a painter's rout, among opera-dancers, 
 and charlatans of every sort? or a bookseller issu- 
 ing cards for a conversazione ? 
 
 Between four and five was I set down at my 
 chambers, and was in the Oxford coach by eight ; 
 so you may imagine I want rest, which I certainly 
 mean to give myself as soon as possible. After 
 taking a peep at Magdalen to-morrow, I shall lie 
 by for one day ; that is, not travel, though I dread 
 the event of my academical rencontre to-morrow 
 night. 
 
 Adieu, and believe me ever yours, &c. 
 
 Burford, Oct. 15, ISO7. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I resume my pen. Yesterday evening I 
 tore myself from the groves of Magdalen, having 
 engaged our friend Jones to take a seat in the 
 chaise, and join me on my excursion, and got no 
 further than this place. The evening at Magda- 
 
len s was as festive of the sort as that in King's 
 Bench Walks : the Nightingale, as we used to call 
 him, gave us his own exquisite little air of " Mag- 
 dalen Grove" in his best style; and Kennedy two 
 or three most incomparable Irish songs, and one I 
 tiever heard before, which I take to be his own 
 composition, and a man less rhodest might have 
 been forward to acknowledge, each stanza ending 
 with the " Dells of the Dargle for me ;" while 
 Burton accompanied him on the flute, an instru- 
 ment he is become perfect master of. You know 
 there is no doing at Magdalen's without supper ; 
 and though no supper-man, there was no resisting 
 the brawn, or the beverage Jones had the honour 
 of contributing, most excellent Welsh bottled 
 cwrw, the British word for ale. To this suc- 
 ceeded successive bowls of punch*, whose basis 
 
 * Our Magdalen friends had taken their recipe, one would 
 suppose, from the JJ Almanac de Gourmands, which runs thus >— 
 " Sur une partie de jus de citron dans lequel on a laisse infuser 
 quelques zestes, mettez trois parties d'excellent rhum de la Ja- 
 maique au neuf parties de bon the bien chaud : la proportion du 
 sucre est indeterminee." I have heard my uncle Robert, your 
 godfather, say, that when he was a young man of nineteen, just 
 arrived in London to be entered of Lincoln's Inn, he was one of 
 a party, mostly young men, at a house then much frequented, 
 the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, drinking punch, the principal 
 menstruum of which was strong gunpowder-tea j the other in- 
 gredients being pine-apple rum, orange marmalade, jellies, and 
 yolk6 of eggs, with a due temperament of acid and sweet -, and 
 in a mixture of company no less singular, which consisted of a 
 well-known old libertine bon vivant, who delighted to act as wet 
 nurse to the sucking babes of his day, and who was on this occa- 
 sion the master-mover of the business ; a Nisus and Euryalus* 
 
13 
 
 was strong green tea, richly inspissated with jel- 
 lies ; therefore be not surprised if the night did 
 not pass without a row. We first sported the 
 squinting tutor's oak, all bearing him a grudge, 
 whose mind and manners were as distorted as his 
 vision ; then sallied out punchi plcni into the 
 High Street ; and though we were not periwig- 
 pated, like the wags of Christchurch, when they 
 bearded the proctors, and paralysed them and 
 their authority; yet the watchmaker, and his 
 neighbour the apothecary, had their morning 
 slumbers disturbed with something worse than the 
 wakening mallet at New College, that so much an- 
 noyed old C w * ; the restoring which would 
 
 have required a more than ordinary dose of opium, 
 such was the distracting hurly-burly of our cat- 
 calls, and every thing that discord could invent. 
 Our hour of retiring was very late, or rather 
 
 two friends just loose from College, the one balancing between a 
 red coat and a black ; the other all logic, an embryo statesman j both 
 still living j the towner now a grave and learned divine, who, if ha 
 has not yet got in reach of the mitre, richly merits to attain it } 
 the latter an ex-secretary, panting, like a true patriot, to be rein- 
 stated, could he kill off those who stand in his way j a cele- 
 brated wit of his time, alas! no more, General O'H — a; and 
 the noted, or rather notorious D k E d, wiUi an ob- 
 scure subaltern or two of his black-legged corps. 
 
 * Bingham, in his Ecclesiastic Antiquities, informs us of an 
 invention before bells, for convening religious assemblies in mo- 
 nasteries. It was, going by turns to every man's cell, and with 
 the knock of a hammer calling the monks to church : the instru- 
 ment was called the wakening mallet. A relic of this ancient 
 ciiitom is preserved at New College, for the porter knocks with 
 a maJlet at the bottom of each staircase at seven o'clock 
 a 
 
14 
 
 very early ; and nature, was not satisfied with the 
 little rest I was able to procure, and the want of 
 which I now feel, and feel the more, as the only 
 stimulus I had to keep me awake was my anxious 
 expectation of letters from her, " at each remove 
 from whom I drag a lengthening chain ;" in which, 
 alas! I have experienced my usual disappoint- 
 ment : this threw me, fretted and jaded as I was, 
 into a profound reverie, from which Jones, as he 
 knew the cause of it, knows the human heart, 
 and has himself as much as any man been its 
 plaything, never attempted to rouse me ; but that 
 I was roused, I owed to the sudden arrival of a 
 carriage, out of which stepped an old lady and 
 her daughter, almost in fits, yet in a most queru- 
 lous tone, often interrupted by the application of 
 the smelling-bottle, endeavouring, in the very 
 passage of the inn into which our room opened, 
 to give an account, to landlord, landlady, and 
 waiters, by this time collected, of the singular 
 appearance of a gigantic figure, stalking over 
 Burford Heath, a circumstance confirmed by the 
 driver and the outriders. It became the topic of 
 such loud conversation, that nothing else was 
 heard ail over the house, and I was induced to 
 call in the landlord, in order to inquire of him the 
 cause of this dismal consternation, that electrified 
 the whole company. He told me there was scarce 
 a week passed but some traveller brought an ac- 
 count of having his curiosity excited by some very 
 unaccountable appearance after night on Burford 
 f Heath. If there was moonlight, the apparition 
 
IS 
 
 was described as of a gigantic indistinct form, 
 crossing the heath at some distance, and obscuring 
 the luminary of night as with a cloud ; in the ab- 
 sence of the moon horrid screams were heard, 
 faintly at first, but increasing to a pitch of alarm- 
 ing loudness, followed by a violent noise of distant 
 thunder, or rushing wind, with, as it were, num- 
 berless wings in motion. Many have likened the 
 shadowy form to one clothed in an academical 
 gown, floating far and wide ; a terrific proctor on 
 an enormous scale. And others have confidently 
 asserted, that this portentous transit is accompa- 
 nied with a strong sulphureous smell. The stage- 
 coachmen who travel that road are so familiarized 
 to the spectre, and so constantly expect it, that 
 the}' consider its non-appearance for some time, or 
 any peculiar variation of it, to be indicative of 
 some sudden change of weather, or ominous of a 
 revolution in the state, and more to be depended 
 upon than Moore's Almanack : nay, they scruple 
 not to affirm, that for a week before Mr. Pitt's 
 death, the sight and sound of this undefined ob- 
 ject of terror was considerably increased. I have 
 heard you ingenious on such subjects ; — pray give 
 me your opinion of the Burford bugbear, 
 
 " Monstrum horrendura, in forme, ingens ; 
 
 Nocte volat co?li medio, tcrrxque per umbrara. 
 Striclet." 
 
 I shall soon retire, being half asleep, and shall 
 hope that my fancy tincturing my dreams, will 
 cause a more angelic spectre to haunt my pillow ; 
 
16 
 
 for though my Eliza's letters do not arrive, her 
 image is ever before me, and of that the cruel one 
 cannot defraud me. To-morrow we step into the 
 maii, so that you must not expect to hear from 
 me till I am got into the heart of Cambria. 
 
 Adieu, &c. 
 
 Carmarthen, Oct. 17, I8O7. 
 MY DEAR C — , 
 
 Here we are, all but shattered to pieces, 
 after the most tremendous jolting I ever expe- 
 rienced ; though we were rather fortunate in our 
 company, one of whom, a young gentleman 
 going to visit some relations in Wales, I found was 
 an Oxford man, had been of Christchurch, and 
 was matriculated about the time we were leaving 
 Magdalen. Being just entered of Lincoln's Inn> 
 he was seriously setting about the study of the 
 law, and was going to take his farewell of country 
 sports and the muses, before he got entangled 
 with Littleton's Tenures and the intricacies of 
 special pleading. We had much classical conver- 
 sation, in which he shone, being not superficially 
 read, particularly in Greek lore, so that he talked 
 of Poison and Parr with a degree of contempt. 
 He started the subject of that very obscure writer 
 Lycophron, which he handled with great inge- 
 nuity as well as novelty : in short, he was a kind 
 of literary phenomenon, for I never found more 
 
17 
 
 erudition in so young a man, especially as he did 
 not appear to be a mere bookworm, having all the 
 fashionable gaiety incident to his time of life, and 
 the manners of one who had evidently mixed much 
 with the higher ranks. The other, though a quiz in 
 appearance, and though for some time rather re- 
 served, yet, before we parted, blazed out, and we 
 found him a pleasant sensible man, highly entertain- 
 ing, and a great mimic, taking off, to admiration, all 
 the modern actors ; and as he had, when a young 
 man, known Garriek, he gave us a specimen of his 
 manner, and of others his contemporaries. He 
 said his own figure was not unlike that of the 
 great Roscius, whose portrait, in his negligent 
 morning dress, I remember to have seen at my 
 uncle's in Dublin, which had been given him by 
 Goldsmith, with a loose great coat carelessly wrap- 
 ped round him, a little black scratch wig, and 
 every other part of his dress corresponding, as he 
 usually went to rehearsals. Our fellow-traveller so 
 much resembled it, that he might have been taken 
 for the original. 
 
 By questions every now and then, put not without 
 design, and cross-examination, I found that he 
 had been at the bar ; but was now laid up in clover 
 on a fortune of two or three thousand pounds a 
 year, and studied to pass through life with as little 
 notice as possible; but, as I fancied I discovered, 
 rather from a principle of avarice than a dislike to 
 the world, for I observed he never could be 
 brought to give more to a coachman than sixpence, 
 and never travelled, by his own account, with 
 
 c 
 
more baggage than his old purple bar-bag could 
 carry, and would never eat or drink on the road at 
 his own expense, if he could help it. 
 
 As to the country we passed through in the 
 first part of our journey, whilst day continued, 
 there was nothing in the Wolds of Gloucester- 
 shire to excite the eye to look out; and we had 
 the mortification to pass through the most beauti- 
 ful part of Wales in the night-time, Monmouth- 
 shire and the vale of Usk particularly, a scene I 
 have had painted to me in such colours as made 
 me exceedingly lament' the absence of daylight, 
 for that of the moon we had, by the help of 
 which I saw sufficient to tantalize me. 
 
 However, the day dawned on us at our entrance 
 into another most charming vale, that of Towy, 
 running through the centre of Carmarthenshire. 
 If the vale of Usk has superior charms to this, it 
 must be the finest spot upon earth. The town of 
 Llandovery, at which we stopped, lies at the com- 
 mencement of this lovely scene ; its situation is 
 low and damp, as placed at the confluence of two 
 or three mountain-streams, of a very turbulent 
 character, and that leave after floods dreadful 
 marks of their ravage. The largest of these rivers, 
 the Towy, rises among the mountains dividing 
 this countv from Cardiganshire and Brecknock- 
 shire; and I am told, near its source, in a mineral 
 country, the property of Lord Cawdor, it exhibits a se- 
 ries of fine falls, accompanied by the richest scenery 
 of rock and wood that can be imagined. There is 
 .here a g^od inn, called the Castle, from being con ti- 
 
19 
 
 sruous to the knoll on which the small ruins of the 
 fortress, so often mentioned in the Welsh Chro- 
 nicles, appear. This castle formerly belonged to 
 a son of the great Rhys, prince of South Wales — 
 Rhys the Hoarse, Raucisonus, or, as he is called 
 in the Welsh language, Rhys Gryg. Here we 
 breakfasted, and had an accession to our party, m 
 a gentleman who seemed to have come there pur- 
 posely to meet our young classical passenger, and 
 give him a seat in his gig which was wait- 
 ing. He was a man of very fascinating manners, 
 seemed to have been much abroad, and talked of 
 Paris as we would of London ; had often been at 
 Madame Recamier's levee, had lived in habits of 
 intimacy with Talleyrand and all the great cha- 
 racters of France, and spoke of Buonaparte, not 
 at second-hand from others, or from books, but 
 from a personal knowledge of him, and entertained 
 us with some singular anecdotes, which he had 
 such a happy knack of compressing, without ren- 
 dering them vapid, that he gave us a greater 
 number and more spiritedly, in the space of the 
 hour we sat together, than most narrators would 
 have done in a day. Of Dr. Parr I knew no- 
 thing before but in gross, but he gave us this 
 mass of learning most minutely in detail, with 
 such a happy imitation of his tone and manner, 
 that Jones, who once had been in his company, 
 told me, that nothing could exceed it as a piece of 
 mimicry, for he seemed to bring this hero of bom- 
 bast alive before you. He showed us his hand- 
 writing in a letter he had just received, but appa- 
 
 c l 2 
 
£0 
 
 fently to me so unintelligible, that I could as soon 
 decvpher the Ogham character; and I am certain, 
 that if it contained the rankest treason in every 
 line, and were dropped in a public market-place, 
 it would be a hundred chances to one, that an in- 
 terpreter could be found sagacious enough, I may 
 say, to translate as much as would constitute an 
 overt act It must be confessed, that his manner 
 was tinctured with egotism ; but how could this 
 be well avoided, as he himself was one of the prin- 
 cipal actors in all the scenes he described? 
 
 Our next stage was Landilo, and our road thither 
 passes by Abermarlais, a beautiful seat 01 Capt. 
 Foley, a gentleman of. Pembrokeshire, who by 
 purchase became possessed of this place, and has 
 iatelv built an elegant mansion on it. As an officer 
 this gentleman, at an early time of life, signalized 
 himself, on many occasions, and needs no other 
 eulogium than the character given him by our 
 great naval hero, the late Lord Nelson, both at the 
 battle of the Nile and at Copenhagen. Of his 
 being a man of worth, there cannot be better evi- 
 dence than the enthusiastic respect with which h§ 
 is spoken of in all the country. 
 
 Abennarlak, was formerly one" of the castles ot 
 castellated houses belonging to Sir Rhys ap Tho- 
 mas, and afterwards was possessed, as I am in- 
 formed, by an ancestor of the present Thomas 
 Job ncs, Esq. to whom the world is indebted for a. 
 new translation of Froissart, from manuscripts, 
 which Lord Berners, the former and only trans- 
 lator of that curious chronicle before him, had 
 never teen, and therefore great part of it was to- 
 
tally new. In this gentleman's late loss, by the 
 unfortunate fire that consumed his superb mansion 
 of Hafod, and most valuable library, vvcvy friend 
 of literature must sympathize. 
 
 Within these twenty years the old house at Aber- 
 marlais existed, but in an uninhabited state; and 
 the landlady of the inn at Landilo told me, that 
 it was so large as to admit of having a hundred 
 beds made in it, having been, during the time of 
 its various possessors (for it often shifted masters), 
 a house devoted to hospitality on the most exten- 
 sive scale. It had till lately a large paled park 
 full of old timber of vast size, but those were the 
 only stag-horned growth this enclosure could boast 
 of for above a century. The venerable foresters, 
 that yielded to the axe, and contributed to carrv 
 our thunder to the most distant seas, are succeeded 
 by very flourishing young plantations of the pre- 
 sent owner, who most probably planted them, con 
 rwwre, with a prophetic wish, that they, like their 
 predecessors, might furnish a similar vehicle ta 
 extend the British empire of the ocean. 
 
 The Captain's house has been placed at some 
 distance from the site of the former, on a favoured 
 spot, seemingly much better adapted to command 
 the enchanting scenery around it, 
 
 Landilo, as a town, is deserving of very little 
 notice ; the inn bad ; streets, if streets they may 
 be called, which streets are none, dirty, narrow, 
 and irregular; but its situation is charming, on 
 the declivity of a hill overhanging the Towy, and 
 looking down on an expanse of valley richly 
 
 C3 
 
22 
 
 watered and wooded, and bounded by an. am- 
 phitheatre of hills and mountains endlessly diver- 
 sified in shape and character. Having crossed the 
 river below the town, we gain a charming view of 
 the loveliest spot my eyes ever beheld, which occu- 
 pies an elevated tongue of land, projecting from 
 the town of Landilo, into the vale of Tovvy, with 
 a varying undulation of surface of the finest ver- 
 dure, and covered with magnificent woods, par- 
 ticularly those which clothe the precipitous sides 
 of the landscape skirting the river, and out of 
 which rise the venerable ruins of the ancient castle, 
 the once palatial residence of the princes of South 
 Wales. 
 
 Here, long after the native princes became tri- 
 butary to England, and nothing but the shadow of 
 royalty was left, Sir Rhys ap Thomas, ancestor of 
 the present Lord Dynevor, who contributed as 
 largely as any of his adherents to bring Henry the 
 Seventh to the throne, lived in a state little less than 
 regal, his services to his King being rewarded by 
 grants and privileges serving to swell his property 
 and his authority to so enormous a size, as made 
 him the dread and envy of his time, and to bring 
 his grandson to the block, in the time of that ca- 
 pricious tyrant Henry the Eighth. 
 
 A little beyond, in a line that presents nothing 
 but the most beautiful scenes, Grongar Hill breaks 
 on the sight, a spot ever dear to the Muses, having 
 been celebrated in a much-admired poem of Dyer, 
 a younger son of the house of Aberglasney, seen 
 from the road, on the north side of the river, 
 at its foot, but which has lately passed into an- 
 
23 
 
 other family. Thus property alters, and this Par- 
 nassus almost forgotten, like 
 
 « Helmsley, once proud Buckingham's delight, 
 
 Slides to some scrivener, or a city knight." 
 
 We pass the gate that leads to Golden Grove, 
 once the residence of the great royalist, the Earl of 
 Carbery, whose ancestors, by grant or purchase, 
 on the attainder of Sir Rhys ap Thomas's grand- 
 son, became possessed of all the confiscated estates 
 in this county; a property of immense extent, in- 
 fluence, and privileges, involving castles, royalties, 
 and independent jurisdictions, and which now 
 belongs to Lord Cawdor, a very popular noble- 
 man, who has likewise a most magnificent mansion 
 in Pembrokeshire, and who, during the recess of 
 Parliament, divides his time between the two 
 counties, alternately cheering them with his pre- 
 sence, and supporting in each a princely esta- 
 blishment. The house of Golden Grove, though 
 not seen from the road, from the nature of the 
 ground must lie low, yet I should suppose 
 must be a lovely place to look from, as the old 
 palace of the princes of South Wales towering- 
 above majestic woods coeval with its regal splen- 
 dour, and Parnassian Grongar, are full in its 
 front. The great road divides the park, which is 
 large, from the pleasure-grounds. 
 
 A little further on observe, to the right, and 
 separated by the Towy washing its base, the 
 scanty remains of the castle of Dryslwyn crown- 
 ing an insulated knoll, which must, from its >itua- 
 
 c4 
 
24 
 
 tion, have been a very strong post. This castle, 
 in the time of Edward the Second, proved the 
 grave of many of the English nobility, the walls, 
 by attempting to undermine them, having fallen, 
 and buried the besiegers. Stop a few minutes at 
 the beautiful little village of Lanartheny (one of 
 the mail-coachman's regular gin stages), consist- 
 ing of an inn, a few neat houses prettily scattered, 
 and a picturesque church standing in a large ce- 
 metery, well enclosed and nicely kept, nearly all 
 grassed over, and where the infrequency of graves 
 may, I presume, be considered as a proof of the 
 healthiness of the situation. A well-formed hand- 
 some road, taking an upland direction to the left 
 from the centre of the village, I was told, leads to 
 Middleton Hall, a large pile in an elevated situa- 
 tion, the seat of Sir William Paxton, who having 
 made a princely and honourably acquired fortune 
 in India, happily for this country, had the taste 
 to be enamoured of it, where he chiefly resides, 
 and takes a lead in acts of public spirit and bene- 
 volence ; yet, though he has merited every thing 
 of this country, and is perpetually consulting their 
 interest to his cost, so little to be depended on is 
 the papillaris aura, and particularly that of this 
 county (as I learn), that, after being chosen mem- 
 ber for Carmarthenshire, without opposition, a 
 little more than a year ago, nothing on his part 
 alleged to provoke such conduct, at the last elec- 
 tion, a sudden mine was sprung upon him, by 
 setting up an (idvena in that country like himself, 
 and generally spoken of as most unpopular. But 
 
25 
 
 perhaps all this, without any reference to the merits 
 or demerits of the candidates, was produced by 
 the mere collision of two factions which divide 
 the county, for here every thing is settled by blue 
 and red. 
 
 My fellow-traveller, who, from what I could 
 collect to justify such a conjecture, either had 
 been in Parliament himself, or vehemently aspired 
 after the situation, was very communicative on 
 the subject of the late election, gave me his 
 political creed, and fdled his trumpet with his 
 own pretensions, by his own showing, not incon- 
 siderable. 
 
 Our road, all the way from Landilo to Car- 
 marthen, lay on the south side of the Towy, whose 
 meanders, or rather torrent irregularities, we coukl 
 every now and then trace, by the ravage it made 
 in forming new channels, and was intersected by 
 numerous rills and rivers, issuing from lonely 
 vales, through which they hastened to empty their 
 crystal urns into the Towy; but the largest were 
 the Dulas, a very common name for a river in 
 Wales, expressing two colours, blue and black, 
 that is, a deep or dark azure ; the Co thy and the 
 G willy, the Cothy the largest. 
 
 Within three miles of the town of Carmarthen, 
 across the river, I was shown Merlin's Hill, so 
 famed in song ; then almost under its shade catch 
 a view of Abergwilly, the episcopal residence of 
 the bishops of St. David's, and the only one of 
 their many palaces left, in a low but lovely situ a- 
 
26 
 
 tion, amidst finely wooded meadows sloping down 
 to the Towy. It lately, I am told, had an entire 
 new facade, by the late bishop, Lord G. Murray, 
 to whom the whole place is indebted for its present 
 appearance, the house before his time being a most 
 awkward undignified building, and the road, now 
 turned, going close to the back of it. You recol- 
 lect the account we had the other day at Lord 
 
 L« 's, of his plan to aggrandize the see, to 
 
 which he sacrificed every present advantage, for- 
 bearing to renew leases, or accept fines for renew- 
 als, and not being able to persuade himself, that 
 " a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.'" 
 
 Almost opposite to Abergwilly, on the south 
 side of the river, the road passing near it, my 
 fellow-traveller pointed out to me the former re- 
 sidence of the ingenious Sir Richard Steele, where 
 probably he might have penned many of those en- 
 tertaining papers that delight us in the Spectator, 
 Tatler, and Guardian, and told me that, in the 
 town of Carmarthen, that great genius died a 
 driveller. Alas, what a fine fabric in ruins ! 
 
 A few turns of the wheel brought us to Carmar- 
 then, and the Bush inn promised a comfortable 
 reception, in which we found ourselves not dis- 
 appointed, after staying there near two days. I 
 write whilst dinner is getting ready, and did not 
 care if it was supper, as nearer the hour of rest, 
 which my poor bones, after the shaking they have 
 bad, are in great need of; so do not expect to. 
 hear from me again till I have thoroughly exa- 
 
27 
 
 mined this large town, and have had the benefit 
 pf the Bush beds. 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 Carmarthen, October 19, I807, 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I am told I have an hour to wait for the 
 coach, and that I w T ill employ to carry on my 
 journal from my last. The evening of the day we 
 arrived proved rainy, and kept us within, so we 
 enjoyed our bottle and fire; and, after a cup of 
 tea, some retrospective conversation about our last 
 Stage, with opinions of our fellow-travellers, and 
 many comments on the whole, retired at an early 
 hour, Jones having sweetened the latter part of it 
 with some beautiful airs on the flute. 
 
 We Tose refreshed, and, breakfasting early, we 
 sallied out to see the town, situated on a gentle 
 elevation above the Towy, which, though eight 
 miles from the estuary, here feels the tide suffi- 
 ciently to bring up large vessels to the quay. 
 
 Carmarthen is a large and populous place, and, 
 being centrally situated, and a great thoroughfare, 
 carries on an extensive trade. The ruins of its 
 castle, which once appears to have occupied a 
 large space, are not at all striking, and so from its 
 peculiar situation, I am inclined to think the 
 wails were never very lofty. The county jail, a 
 large modern building, occupies part of its site. 
 
28 
 
 This town, though larger than Brecknock, much 
 differs from that and most of the principal towns, 
 as I am told, in Wales, in having but one church. 
 This was the ancient Maridunum of the Romans, 
 the walls of which, exhibiting portions of Roman 
 masonry, were partly extant in the time of our 
 earliest and curious tourist Giraldus, an acquaint- 
 ance with whose life, learning, and Itinerary, we 
 owe to a late splendid and entertaining work of 
 Sir Richard Hoare. 
 
 The name of this gentleman connects itself with 
 another late publication, claiming him for the au- 
 thor, namely, " The Journal of a Tour through 
 Ireland in 1806," the amusing companion of my 
 present excursion; a book, if you have not yet read 
 it, I would strongly recommend to your perusal, 
 as a model of a journal of that sort, in which there 
 is more compressed than I ever saw in so small a 
 compass, and more neatly. The general remarks 
 that close the volume cannot fail to prepossess you 
 - in favour of the head and heart of the worthy 
 Baronet. Before my route is finished, I may have 
 occasion to call your attention to parts of the 
 Journal as they strike me. 
 
 There are two banks in this town, with a capital 
 to support them beyond the dread of failure ; and 
 as to attorneys, I am told they swarm, and are all 
 men of fortune, how acquired perhaps their clients 
 may tell you. 
 
 I was shown the gateway that led to the Priory, 
 but nothing more remains of this once extensive 
 and well-endowed religious house. At the other 
 
29 
 
 end of the town they say there was a small esta- 
 blishment of friars preachers, but no traces of it 
 could be pointed out; however, in attempting to 
 discover the site of it, I observed some curious 
 earth-works, of various forms, and yet not like 
 those so frequently occurring, evidently raised for 
 military operations. I should be much inclined 
 to think them Roman, and longed to have had 
 time or permission to search into them. 
 
 On our return from the morning's ramble, I wa* 
 tempted to enter an auction-room, where, amongst 
 other articles, books were selling, in the Catalogue, 
 said to have belonged to a person lately dearl, who 
 had left, as I was informed, very little more to 
 pay for his lodgings, which he had occupied for 
 three months only. He was a stranger, had some- 
 thing eccentric and mysterious about him, passed 
 off for an Irishman, but was suspected to have 
 been one from North Wales. I bought two or 
 three printed books, and one manuscript quarto 
 volume, neatly written, importing to be verses and 
 letters that passed between Shakespeare and Anna 
 I lathe way whom he married, as well as letters to 
 and from him and others, with a curious journal 
 of Shakespeare, an account of many of his plays, 
 and memoirs of his life by himself, &c. By the 
 account at the beginning, it appears to have been 
 copied from an old manuscript in the hand-writing 
 of Mrs. Shakespeare, which was so damaged when 
 discovered at a house of a gentleman in Wa 
 whose ancestor had married one of the Hathewavs, 
 that to rescue it from oblivion a process was made 
 
30 
 
 use of, by which the original was sacrificed to the 
 transcript. Bound up with it is another manu- 
 script tract, written in an antiquated but fair hand, 
 though on paper much discoloured and damaged, 
 a collection of old Prophecies, translated from the 
 ancient British language, supposed all to relate to 
 Wales, with a note prefixed, importing that they 
 were translated, during a voyage to Guiana, by 
 a Welshman on board Sir Walter Raleigh's ship, 
 and written with a pen made out of the quill of 
 an eagle, from a finely illuminated vellum book, 
 said to have come from the abbey of Strata Florida, 
 and in the possession of a relation to the last 
 abbot, then on board the same ship. This small 
 tract appears to have been interleaved by the last, 
 or some very late possessor, as a vehicle for notes 
 variorum on several of the prophecies, which ap- 
 pear to be unravelled with considerable ingenuity, 
 and a strong spice of satire ; with an account how 
 and when the notes, evidently very modern, were 
 obtained. The style of the original has something 
 very turgid and oracular in it. I bought it for 
 half a crown, and persuading myself that it may 
 be what it professes, I am very proud of the ac- 
 quisition. Some of the poetry is very striking, 
 though full of odd conceits, yet much in the man- 
 ner of our great dramatist. His Journal, record- 
 ing, like most diaries, the most trifling events, 
 carries you back to the days of Queen Bess, and 
 you are brought acquainted with things that his- 
 tory never informs you of. I know by this de- 
 scription I make your mouth water. Perhaps I 
 
31 
 
 may treat you with a specimen of this curious 
 farrago before I invite you to feast upon it. 
 
 But I find the mail is come in, and will soon 
 proceed; I must, therefore, hurry to pay my bill, 
 and hold myself in readiness, after a day's enlarge- 
 ment, to cage myself once more. Farewell ; and 
 expect to hear again, in a post or two, from, 
 
 Dear Charles, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 Milford, October 20, I8O7. 
 DEAK CHARLES, 
 
 After a little more jolting, yet on the 
 whole not a very unpleasant journey, I got safe, 
 thank Heaven, to my place of destination. The 
 day was fine, and admitted of the windows being 
 down, and our taking a peep at the country. 
 About nine miles from Carmarthen we came to St. 
 (gear's, the longest village, for I can hardly call 
 it a town, I ever was through, and probably in 
 ancient times might have been a place of some 
 consequence. They say there was here a house 
 for nuns of the order of St. Clare, but no trace 
 of any monastic or castellated building meets the 
 eye, though the Welsh Chronicles make frequent 
 mention of the castle of St. Clear's being destroyed; 
 yet what is pointed out for it is nothing more than 
 an ancient tumulus that might have been sur- 
 mounted with a wooden tower capable of con- 
 taining a few men to guard that pass. 
 
32 
 
 At the end of this long straggling place cross 
 the river Tave, navigable thus far. Hence to 
 Tavern Spite, an inn in a bleak situation on the 
 edge of an extensive ill-cultivated tract, yet from 
 which you command a most charming view, to the 
 right, of a rich vale, backed by the range of the 
 Pembrokeshire mountains, presenting a most beau- 
 tifully varied outline; and on the left a view of 
 the sea, and Tenby, marked by its lofty spire, at 
 a distance. The name of this inn, one of our com- 
 panions in the coach, seemingly a good Welshman, 
 and not ill-informed antiquary, said, was a cor- 
 ruption of Tavern Yspltty, Taberna Hospitii, be- 
 ing built on a spot where formerly stood an ancient 
 Ilospitiam, a pious institution frequent in this 
 country, and founded for the accommodation of 
 the poor pilgrims travelling to the shrine of St*. 
 David, which was much resorted to. 
 
 I had almost forgot to give you some account of 
 our fellow-travellers from Carmarthen. One was 
 a mystic, a follower of Joanna Sou thcote, or ra- 
 ther one who pretended to be equally gifted with 
 her, professing, that, on comparing their schemes, 
 they were found to agree in almost every particular, 
 lie was a man with a countenance that prepos- 
 sessed you in his favour ; and yet, under such a. 
 flattering surface, this fanatic might conceal much 
 mischief. The other turned out to be one of the 
 most eminent Methodists in the principality, and 
 well known all over England, having been, and I 
 believe still being, one of the officiating chaplains 
 to Lady Huntingdon's chapel in Spa Fields, who 
 
had a residence both in Glamorganshire and this 
 county, enjoying them alternately. His whole 
 appearance was such, as inclined me to think that 
 he did not lack the good things of this world, or 
 forbore to make use of them, from a mistaken no- 
 tion that they obstructed his passage to the next : 
 he was, in short, a communicative sensible man, 
 with cheerfulness and good-humour, very little 
 known to his fraternity, and, in my humble opi- 
 nion, a criterion of his motives being good and his 
 life in the right. He displayed considerable anti- 
 quarian knowledge, and was a very entertaining 
 comment on the various objects that met our eye, 
 when they could be made any way subservient to 
 traditional lore or real history. The Welsh lan- 
 guage had a share of discussion; and on this sub- 
 ject he candidly acknowledged, that in Jones he 
 had met with more than his match. He gave me 
 a very different account of the French descent on 
 this coast ; from any I had before met with : for he 
 lived near the place, and took pains to be informed 
 of the truth. He said, there were circumstances 
 connected with that event, so mysteriously provi- 
 dential, that, he was sorry to say, had not been 
 with due gratitude brought to account : it was 
 not to the warriors (for they were at first few), that 
 were to " stop them at the gates/' or to the rii 
 of what might, and what certainly would nave 
 been, in a very short time assembled, that we must 
 ascribe the victory. The foe was paralyzed ; Hea- 
 ven had issued the fiat — Hitherto shalt thou go, 
 and no further: thus circumstanced, 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 " Man but a rush against th' invader*! breast, 
 And he retires." 
 
 He said he regretted the very impolitic steps that 
 were taken at such a time, and calculated to reflect 
 on a country which had displayed, on the occasion, 
 the most exemplary firmness and loyalty, by no- 
 ticing the mad proceedings of two or three low 
 fanatics, on the evidence only of invading enemies. 
 
 The surrender of the enemy, it seems, was com- 
 memorated by a few seasonable and animated lines of 
 a friend of his (for they had men fitted " tarn Marti 
 quam Musis'), which, he believed, never got much 
 abroad, unless by his means ; but he was so struck 
 with them, that, thinking the compliment contained 
 in the sentiments they expressed, by contrasting the 
 sanguinary character of the foe with the generous 
 spirit of the victor, w r ould be not without its use 
 in keeping alive that patriotic flame then just kin- 
 dled, which he was happy to say had continued to 
 blaze with undiminished splendour, and would, he 
 hoped, prove unquenchable, he got a few hundred 
 printed to circulate about the country. Then taking 
 out his pocket-book, he presented me with the little 
 poem, trusting I should be pleased with the subject 
 and the manner of treating it. 
 
 I think this little fugitive piece has nerve, and 
 merits notice, so I enclose a copy. 
 
 What will not Gallia's frantic sons design, 
 Unaw'd by laws, or human or divine ? 
 A desp'rate crew, yet livid from the chain 
 lmpos'd by crime in fell Robespierre's reign ; 
 With all the lovely charities suppress'd, 
 And ench base passion tyrant of the breast \ 
 1 o 
 
35 
 
 Monsters in whom Heav'n's image is defac'd, 
 Let loose on man to make the world a waste : 
 Tempests in vain the ocean's face deform, 
 They madly war with Him who rules the storm ; 
 To them no terror bring the shades of night, 
 Their deeds are darkness, and abhor the light. 
 Albion may boast her more than magic zone 
 Of deep cerulean which begirds her throne ; 
 The sacred round they impiously transgress, 
 Till Freedom trembles in her last recess. 
 Cambria in vain her rocky bulwark boasts, 
 By Nature rear'd around her fav'rite coasts ; 
 From whose besieg'd, yet still unyielding sides, 
 Neptune shrinks back with disappointed tides ; , 
 Whilst awful gloom her every mountain sheds, 
 And nods stupendous ruin o'er their heads j 
 Still with proportion'd insolence they rise, 
 A brood of Titans that would scale the skies. 
 Her caves in vain unconscious of the day, 
 Yawn horror, and Tartarean gloom display ; 
 Of no effect their boldness to repel, 
 Though the dark adit open'd into hell ; 
 Yet they who every trial had withstood, 
 And brav'd all danger, take what shape it would ; 
 Whom neither rocks, nor seas, nor famine gaunt, 
 With all its train of horrid ills, could daunt 5 
 Who vainly thought more formidable foes 
 Could not exist their progress to oppose ; 
 Yet to their cost on ancient British ground 
 More formidable still such foes they found, 
 A land inheriting, where oft of yore 
 The Saxon and the Dane had bled before ; 
 The genuine sons of Freedom, doom'd to be 
 The heav'n-appointed guardians of her tree ; 
 From spoilers' hands to keep its golden fruit, 
 And punish such as would her shrine pollute ^ 
 The fierce republicans no sooner tread 
 The sacred soil, than of Medusa's head 
 D 2 
 
56' 
 
 They own the spell, and, fit for slaves alone, 
 A horror feel that numbs them into stone :~ 
 Thus Britons triumph, save the work of death : — 
 They come — they see — they conquer — at a breath* 
 In forest wilds the lion's distant roar, 
 Heard by the subject brutes so oft before, 
 A bold contempt inspires : but rashly when 
 They dare to beard the monarch in his den, 
 Soon as the terrors of his eye they meet, 
 They fall for mercy crouching at his feet ; 
 The yielding prey, already dead with fear. 
 The generous victor spares, and scorns to tear. 
 
 At Tavern Spite we changed horses, and alighted 
 for a few minutes. They crowded round the 
 preacher as if he was an angel dropped from hea- 
 ven ; every body knew him, and children 
 
 " Pluck' d his coat, to share the good man's smile." v 
 
 He was attended by a servant and horses; but 
 in consequence of an accident which happened at 
 Carmarthen, rendering it painful to wear a boot, 
 he was obliged to change his mode of conveyance. 
 The concern of the crowd gathered round him, 
 was beyond any thing I ever witnessed ; and I 
 firmly believe he was deserving of it. O ! 6-i sic 
 Qm7ies, or even plures. Our disciple of Johanna 
 Southcote here left us, and his place to Haver- 
 fordwest was occupied by a navy officer (though 
 I should think, not in employ), a rattle-pated tar, 
 with some humour, and in whose company it was 
 impossible to be long serious. 
 
 Our next stage was Narberth, where, on a small 
 pointed projection of a hill, are perched the pic- 
 turesque ruins of a castle, built in the time of Wil- 
 
37 
 
 liam Rufus, by a Sir Andrew Pcrrott, a Norman 
 ancestor of your once hurling lord deputy of Ire- 
 land, Sir John Perrott, in the reign of Elizabeth, a 
 man of consummate pride, and no command of a 
 temper boisterous and irritable, which exposed 
 him to much censure and contention, made him at 
 times forget the respect due to his royal mistress, 
 and ultimately proved the cause of his disgrace 
 and ruin. Yet he did not want for abilities, either 
 in the field or the cabinet. Discretion was all lit 
 wanted, to have made him a great man. 
 
 Here we left the preacher, who was engaged to 
 hold forth that evening, and I presume to a crowded 
 audience, as the roads were lined with people, conir 
 ing from all quarters ; and the town was already 
 as full as on a market-day. We shook hands at 
 parting most cordially ; and his tongue dropped a 
 blessing with so much of heart in it, that I shall 
 always remember him with a degree of affection. 
 
 We were no sooner under way, after unshipping 
 the man of God, than the man of war, the sailor, 
 addressed me bluntly: " Pray, Sir, do you know 
 him who has just left us?" and said, without wait- 
 ing for a reply — " He is one of our first apostles in 
 this country, not one of the twelve, but one of 
 twelve score ; for they swarm with us, as thick as 
 boats at Spithcad ; spiritual pilots, cruizing about 
 on every tack, to direct souls that are gone out of 
 their course. And in this little town we have 
 passed, there are as many in need of his guidance, 
 as in any place I know of; who have no other com- 
 pass to steer by, but that very erroneous one of 
 
 v 3 
 
38 
 
 their passions. But from what I can learn, and I 
 must say thus much in his praise, he is not thought 
 a hypocrite; and that is saying a great deal. People 
 of all sects like him, and the fellow certainly 
 seems to have no suspicious cant about him ; and I 
 understand he is a jolly companion ; smokes his 
 pipe, and takes his beer aboard, as kindly as if he 
 had served in the navy. By the by, I heard a 
 strange tale of his lameness at Carmarthen : You 
 must know, that, after a night sermon, always suc- 
 ceeds that species of religious enthusiasm called 
 jumping; and after a discourse from him two nights 
 ago in that town, such was the salient furor he excit- 
 ed, that the uproar can only be pictured by a warm 
 imagination. A female disciple, who had lost her 
 leg in action, and which was supplied by a sort of 
 jury-leg, a wooden one, terminating in a spike, to 
 prevent the too rapid waste of the limb, had con- 
 trived to mount one of the benches at the foot of 
 the pulpit, and just as the preacher on his descent 
 had reached the floor, at that moment Timbertoe 
 felt the frenzy of the tripod, and jumping down, 
 pinned the saint to the ground, where they were 
 engaged yard-arm and yard-arm. Hence his swoln 
 foot ; the wits at Carmarthen are full of their puns 
 on this occasion; saying, that Mr. J ■ is 
 
 smitten to the soul, by a lady of a sharp under- 
 standing, and one of the elect. Others call it a 
 prick of conscience." In such a continued fit of 
 laughter was I kept by my marine companion, that 
 I could not pay the attention due to the fine view 
 of one of the principal branches of Milford Haven, 
 
39 
 
 of the woody tract of Canaston, and the charm- 
 ingly diversified grounds of Slebech, that burst on 
 the sight, after passing the little village of Robes- 
 ton, situated on an eminence. 
 
 The Haven of Milford, one of the finest in Eu- 
 rope, is called in the Welsh Aberdaugleddau, being 
 the embouchure of two rivers of the name of Cled- 
 dau, the British word for a sword, one of which 
 we cross at Canaston bridge, and the other at Ha- 
 verfordwest. 
 
 To the left of Canaston bridge, on the banks of the 
 river, is the elegant seat of Mr. Philips of Slebech, 
 marked by its majestic woods, in which it is too 
 much embosomed and recessed, to be seen from 
 the road. To the right, on an elevated situation, 
 with a precipitous, well-wooded, and most pictu- 
 resque steep towards the river, stand the ruins of 
 Llanhaden Castle, once the favourite residence of 
 several of the bishops of St. David's ; from which 
 they derive their barony : nearer to the road, 
 Ridge way, the seat of a brother of the gallant 
 Captain Foley, whose mansion I passed in Carmar- 
 thenshire, and gave some account of in my former 
 letter, commands a fine and most extensive pro- 
 spect, and is a highly interesting object to look upon. 
 To the left, a few miles further, Picton Castle, 
 the noble residence of Lord Milford, was pointed 
 out to us ; but of its beauties, extent, and conse- 
 quence, which I hear it is possessed of, at that 
 distance, it was impossible to judge. There is one 
 thing remarkable in the history of this place — that 
 from the time of its first being built in the reign 
 
 p 4 
 
40 
 
 of William Rufus, it has never ceased to be inha- 
 bited by its real possessors. 
 
 Crossing the other river Cleddau, at Haverford- 
 west, we enter the town; but for a mile before we 
 approached it, we had a fine view of the town, its 
 three churches, and boldly-situated castle ; which, 
 from its position, covering a steep hill above the 
 river, navigable up to it, makes a grand appear- 
 ance. Dine at the Castle inn (so called from its 
 site just under the castle walls, a large and excel- 
 lent house), but too hurryingly for comfort; and 
 then through darkness to Milford, where we shall 
 not be sorry, after regaling ourselves with some 
 choice oysters and Welsh ale we have ordered, to 
 drop into the arms of your countryman, Murphy. 
 Adieu, and believe me, my dear C— -, ever yours, 
 &c. 
 
 PEAR CHARLES, Milford, Oct. 21, 180?. 
 
 I have iust left Murphy's arms; and feel 
 myself a new man, " Richard's himself again." I 
 am now opening my eyes on the most delightful 
 prospect I ever beheld, a reach of the fine harbour 
 of Milford, of great expanse; alive with vessels of 
 various size and character, in every attitude, inter- 
 spersed with fishing boats and skiffs, moving about 
 in all directions : a scene more lovely cannot be 
 imagined ; and the more striking, as, on account of 
 the darkness when we left the mail last night, 
 there was no forming any distinct idea of the place 
 we had arrived at. 
 
41 
 
 I write by snatches; after breakfast, which 1 
 feel no great disinclination to, I will return to 
 my task. — I have breakfasted most sumptuously. 
 What think you of oyster-rolls, prawns, eggs, and 
 orange-marmalade, in the bill of fare? 
 
 I am just returned from taking a view of this 
 new creation; for the town I am in, was only 
 planned about fifteen years ago ; for which, a pa- 
 tent was obtained by the Hon. Charles Greville, 
 as hceres designatas of his uncle Sir William Ha- 
 milton, then envoy at Naples. The town, accord- 
 ing to a plan shown me this morning, was meant to 
 have occupied a gently swelling hill, almost a pe- 
 ninsula, formed by the two pills or estuaries of Hub- 
 berston and Castle Pill ; so that the present church 
 might stand nearly in the centre. The town was 
 to consist of a certain number of parallel streets 
 running from west to east, beginning at the w r ater 
 edge on Hubberston Pill *, and crossed by others 
 at right angles. Three only of such streets have 
 yet been formed ; but with many chasms in each 
 to be filled up ; and hitherto have stretched no 
 further than the church, which terminates the 
 town already built, and stands in the middle of 
 the lower street, making a very beautiful object. 
 
 The church has a nave and two side-aisles, se- 
 parated by two rows of columns ; the roof is 
 vaulted, and curiously groined. At the west end 
 is an elegant tower, having a clock with three 
 
 * Pill, in this country, seems to be a provincial name for an 
 estuary. 
 
42 
 
 handsome dial-plates, on the south, north, and west 
 sides of it. The chancel window is ornamented 
 with painted glass, as are those of the side and the 
 western one, in the latter of which there are seen ar- 
 morial escutcheons of the Barlow family in Pem- 
 brokeshire, from whom this property was derived, and 
 of Hamilton, which Mr. Grevilie, the present noble 
 proprietor, represents, whose coat likewise decorates 
 one of the panes. The font is a vase of Egyptian 
 porphyry, brought to England by Dr. Pocock, near 
 which stands the pinnacle of the topmast of tjie 
 L'Orient, in honour of the great Nelson, an ap- 
 propriate deposite in a church looking down on 
 an element, over which he bore the British flag so 
 triumphantly, and whose foundation-stone, I be- 
 lieve, was laid by him. 
 
 Below the town is a dock-yard, where, for the 
 first time, I saw a line of battle ship on the stocks, 
 a 74 ; exactly in that state of forwardness, as to 
 enable me to judge of the ingenuity, as well as 
 vastness of the work. She has been building for 
 several years, and has had lately a new keel put 
 under her ; to introduce which, it was necessary, 
 fairly to lift up that immense body — an undertak- 
 ing apparently so gigantic, as to level the erection 
 of Stonehenge to the setting up of nine-pins in a 
 skittle-ground ; and lessen, which as an antiquary 
 I regret, my reverence for the Druid altars called 
 Cromlechs, as stupendous works. What cannot 
 the wedge and the lever perform ! The model of 
 this ship is much admired, and is built from a plan 
 
and under the inspection of Monsieur Barralier, a 
 Frenchman. 
 
 u Fas est et ab hoste doceri." 
 
 This gentleman had likewise the merit of as- 
 sisting Mr. Greville in laying out the town. A 
 singular circumstance was told when I visited this 
 stupendous work, the 74 : that last summer, a 
 thrush had built her nest in some loose spun-yarn, 
 lying between some of the timbers, and brought 
 forth her young, which the workmen used to feed, 
 the parent-bird being so familiar and tame, as to 
 bear to be stroked in her nest. 
 
 There is here a neat market-house and market, 
 well supplied twice a week. The custom-house is 
 a handsome commodious building, where I attended 
 our friend Kennedy, whom I met to my no small 
 joy, just landed from one of the packets, and had 
 an opportunity of seeing business done in the most 
 expeditious and the most gentlemanly manner, no 
 difficulties or delays being affected, for the purpose 
 of increasing fees. I have a pleasure in mentioning 
 this, as I think it a compliment due to those who 
 conduct the office. But I understand the collector 
 and comptroller of Milford are real gentlemen, 
 and not, as in too many of our ports, raised from 
 pimps and footmen, to be an annoyance to the 
 public, and defraud Government. 
 
 The principal inn at which the mail stops, and 
 where the packets land their passengers, is on a 
 prodigious scale, with an airy yard, extensive sta- 
 bling, and every otlice attached and detached, that 
 
' 44. 
 
 can be wanted as an appendage to so large a con- 
 cern. There is likewise a billiard-room indepen- 
 dent of the house, much frequented, particularly 
 by those, who out of it have not two ideas, scarcely 
 vegetate, and who never would have learned their 
 alphabet if the Q had not been in it. There is 
 another inn just opened, where there is a reading- 
 room, and I believe a book-club; an establishment, 
 I think likely to take much, in a town like this, 
 inhabited by several wealthy genteel people, with- 
 out employ, and who have nothing to do but to 
 seek how to vary their amusement. 
 
 On the other side of the estuary or pill, to the west 
 of the new town, lies the old town called Hubberston 
 Making, in the parish of that name : the church 
 being about half a mile off. The new town is in the 
 parish of Stanton, above a mile off; and this dis- 
 tance from the mother-church was, I presume, one 
 of the principal reasons with the noble proprietor 
 of this place, for erecting the handsome edifice I 
 have above described. 
 
 I lay down my pen, perhaps to take it up before 
 I sleep ; dinner being announced, which boasts for 
 its first dish, soals, and a John Dory, with oyster- 
 sauce. What a land we live in! or rather, what a 
 sea to fish from ! 
 
 I now have to tell you, that we have feasted 
 most luxuriously — excellent fish, and true Welsh 
 mutton ; and by way of remove, a woodcock, the 
 first shot here this season. Our wine too was not 
 despicable, and bottled porter most excellent. We 
 had no sooner finished our wine, than our attention 
 
45 
 
 was excited by an account, that the comet was to 
 be seen. All the company in the house was out in an 
 instant, and various were the reports of its size and 
 course, no two agreeing. A general burst of laughter 
 was produced, by what fell from a rosy-gilled gen- 
 tleman farmer, who had just joined the group of 
 star-gazers, and bawled out in the singular dialect 
 of that district of Pembrokeshire — "Bleady (which 
 I suppose to be a corruption of By our Lady), I 
 should like mainly to zee this zame comet, which the 
 Cambrian (a provincial paper) says, in the begin- 
 ning of the night, always appears in bootes, though 
 I take it, if it be in thicky part of the sky, that, 
 good vokes, you are pointing to, it wears a thick 
 great coat too, for ifacks I can zee nothing but 
 darkness.*' I fancied I saw in the south-west, a 
 pale light, surrounded by an extensive halo, that 
 seemed to dilate with bright coruscations, and as 
 often contract. Its declination was pretty rapid to- 
 wards the north-west, this being about nine o'clock. 
 Several were croaking, and supposed that invasion, 
 pestilence, and famine, were at hand; some, with 
 more consolation, hoped it might portend the 
 death of Buonaparte, whilst the greatest number, 
 like Croaker, in the play of the " Goodnaturcd 
 Man," shook their heads, and wished all might be 
 Well this time twelvemonth. As to me, I have 
 nothing of the Croaker about me, and am deter- 
 mined to enjoy the present moment with thankful- 
 ness, which is the only point of time we pan c 'I 
 ours, and yet, if we consider, the present time : 
 fallacy; time, that is ever in transitu, can't bf 
 
46 
 
 present, it must be either past or future, and that 
 past never to be recalled, and that future no sooner 
 come than gone. The Hebrew tongue is said not 
 to have a proper present tense, and the reason is 
 evident. 
 
 As to the heavenly bodies, perhaps it may be 
 presumption in man to push his inquiries too far. 
 What was of use to the world, that great astrono- 
 mer, Sir Isaac Newton was gifted to explain and 
 demonstrate. The course of the comets was be- 
 yond even his reach ; that being the case, I trust 
 it is not impiety to think, that a more intimate ac^ 
 quaintance with them was never intended for mor- 
 tals. 
 
 Our evening passed quietly in conversation 
 over our tea; a repast, which, as we had no 
 lady to induce ceremony, was protracted, to my 
 heart's content, to a late hour. Our chief subject 
 was a recapitulation of our journey, enlivened with 
 many pertinent etymologies and observations from 
 my companion, respecting British names of places, 
 minutely illustrative of their situation and cha- 
 racter, whether towns, rivers, or mountains ; there 
 being scarce an appellative in that language for 
 any thing, that is not perfectly appropriate and 
 expressive of its nature and quality. I had al- 
 ways conceived a prejudice against the Welsh lan- 
 guage, as the Jiarshest and most guttural of any; 
 and what I heard spoken in my rapid transit 
 through the country, did not in the least contri- 
 bute to remove it; but in justice I must remark, 
 that what I heard, was in the lowest colloquial 
 
47 
 
 < r vie, the patois of the peasant, which to an ear 
 unformed could not fail to sound discordantly : 
 but when Mr. Jones spoke it as a scholar and a 
 gentleman, I found I had pronounced my judg- 
 ment too hastily, especially after he had favoured 
 me with two very different specimens, a hunting* 
 and an amatory song; the one sonorous without 
 harshness, and the other most meltingly tender. 
 I understand that the two greatest stumbling- 
 blocks to the pronunciation of the Welsh are, the 
 double d and the ch, the only gutturals in it; 
 whereas the Spanish has no less than three guttu- 
 rals — the g, the j, and the x ; yet who, for the 
 sake of reading Don Quixote in the original, 
 would be deterred from learning that noble lan- 
 guage? The double d seems to have no difficulty, 
 being pronounced as th in booth, soothe. My 
 Welsh critic and friend has retired some time, 
 and the stroke of twelve points out to me the ne- 
 cessity of rest : then adieu for to-night, and be- 
 lieve me, asleep or awake, ever yours, &c. 
 
 Milford, Oct. 22, ISO;, 
 DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I have once more, thank God, seen ano- 
 ther day, though after a night that I thought 
 would have put a period to my existence ; for in 
 consequence of a change of bed, meant respect- 
 fully, I was literally down stewed —^strscd down* 
 
48 
 
 I wish there was an act of parliament prohibiting 
 the use of feathers, which I think would contri- 
 bute as much to the health of His Majesty's sub- 
 jects, as to 
 
 f« Hurl the thunder of the laws on gin." 
 
 A feather-fever I dread like the plague, for, 
 alas ! my nerves will feel it for a week ; and to 
 iit me to encounter what I have to go 
 through for these three weeks to come, I 
 have occasion for my nerves in their best tone. 
 You partly know my business in this part of the 
 country, as, before you left town, I mentioned the 
 death of a person of the name of Holford, as he 
 w as called, though he always wrote it Hw If or del; 
 who dying intestate, and possessed of a consider- 
 able property, real and personal, without any 
 known near relation, has stirred much genealogical 
 inquiry, in which I am not a little interested, as 
 my grandmother was one of his name, and un- 
 doubtedly of his family, originally from this 
 county, but w r ithin these hundred and fifty years 
 from Ireland. It seems, by some papers I recol- 
 lect to have seen when a boy with my grandmo- 
 ther, that one Adam de Hwlfordd, or Adam of 
 Haverfordwest, was one of the adventurers from 
 Pembrokeshire, who joined Strongbow to attempt 
 the conquest of Ireland, and settled there, leaving 
 a brother in his native county, who had a nume- 
 rous issue, sons and daughters, who all died un- 
 married (as is supposed) but two sons, one of 
 whom again left Pembrokeshire, and settled with 
 
4.9 
 
 his kindred in some part of Ireland* from whom 
 the intestate was descended ; the other settling at 
 home, to whom my grandmother traced. About 
 two hundred years ago, in the reign of James I. 
 the last of the name then in Wales went to Bris- 
 tol, having sold his patrimony, and married a 
 woman of that city, daughter of a merchant 
 there, and took to the commercial line, in which 
 probably he was brought up, the mercers of Ha- 
 verfordwest, as I am told, being at that time a 
 wealthy body of people, so that it was customary 
 for the first people in that country to bring up 
 their younger sons to trade. I think I heard the 
 old lady say, that this person was her great-grand- 
 father, and that she, when she married, was the 
 only surviving Holford, or Hwifordd, of that stock ; 
 so that there is every reason to suppose, there 
 being not a trace of the name left now in this 
 county, from which they migrated, that her ac- 
 count was correct, and that I am, in her right, 
 the nearest of kin to the late rich intestate : if I 
 shall be able to make it out, by eking the genea- 
 logical scraps I have gleaned from family papers, 
 with the more authentic annals of the tombs, 
 which I purpose exploring to-day, in a few 
 churches not very distant from this place, namclv, 
 Herbrantstown, Hubertstown, and Robertstown, 
 particularly the former, as I have often heard my 
 grandmother say, that her great-grandmother was 
 a Herbrandt, a descendant of one of the first 
 Flemish settlers in this province, and owned the 
 place called after his name, and I recollect 
 
 £ 
 
id- 
 
 dfnongst a parcel of little clingy deeds;, which 
 since this event I have laboured to make out, 
 mostly written in Latin, but two or three in 
 French, the name of Har brand Friseur occurs, and 
 was induced to think at that time, from the odd 
 coincidence of name and profession, that the Fri- 
 seur was nicknamed Hairbrain'd. — My horse and 
 guide are announced, so I must be off; when I return 
 from my visitation, I shall again resume my pen. 
 
 After three hours of pleasant excursion, 
 almost continually in sight of this enchanting 
 scenery of Milford Haven, but to me perfectly 
 unprofitable, as it has added not a single iota to 
 the information I am in quest of, neither of the 
 churches possessing any thing like an ancient mo- 
 nument. From parish- registers I could not expect 
 to derive any assistance, as there are very few in 
 this country that carry you back above fifty years, 
 and from those who ought to see to the keeping 
 and preservation of them, the clergy, you will be 
 sure to find less ; for though many of them appear 
 to be good scholars, they are without exception 
 the most ignorant men of the antiquities and his- 
 tory of their country I ever met with, their know-w 
 ledge being more limited than that of their parish- 
 registers. However, I have still the material search 
 yet to make in the churches of Haverfordwest, 
 and that of Stanton on this side the water, and on 
 the other side, in Somersetshire, in those of Mine- 
 head, Sell worthy, Luckomb, and Porlock, it being 
 known to my grandmother that one of the Hwl- 
 fordds had settled there about three hundred years. 
 
ago, by whose descendants, who intermarried with 
 the Rogerses and the Arundels, there had been a 
 claim of kindred allowed as late as the period of 
 the Revolution ; I shall therefore, after my search 
 of to-morrow, either from this port or Tenby, pro- 
 cure a passage across the Channel to Minehead, to 
 prosecute my inquiries in that neighbourhood. 
 
 Having still an hour before dinner to dis- 
 pose of, I strolled to the billiard-room, where 
 I was only a spectator, and fell into chat 
 w T ith a gentleman who was, like myself, an 
 uninterested looker-on, a person of taste and in- 
 formation. We left the room together, and our 
 road leading through the same street, he asked me 
 if I had any objection to examine some curiosities 
 brought from the South Seas, and the continent of 
 the other hemisphere, which he was going to see 
 at the house of a Quaker, one of the new settlers 
 here, concerned in carrying on the South Sen 
 whale fishery. I accepted of the polite offer with 
 thankfulness, and wish you had been partaker of 
 the treat. The collection consisted of a variety 
 of articles, arranged with great taste, amongst 
 which I could not help being much struck w T ith 
 an arm ilia, very similar to that in your museum of 
 ivory, dug up in a tumulus on the Currah of Kil- 
 dare, the Stonehenge plain of Ireland, with the 
 difference only, that this was a ring sawed off 
 from a conch. There was likewise a flint arrow- 
 head, found in a turbary on the island of Nan- 
 tucket, precisely the same in size and shape with 
 thosG you possess. Among the curiosities was 
 
 E 2 
 
5<Z 
 
 an infinite variety of singular warlike weapons, 
 most of them inlaid with bone from the bo- 
 dies of their enemies, musical instruments, and 
 ornaments of different shapes for the nose and ears. 
 of an opaque sort of emerald. Nature seems to 
 have dictated to the inhabitants of every country 
 under similar circumstances, nearly the same ap- 
 petites arid wants, and the same modes of sup- 
 plying them, as far as there is a coincidence of 
 situation, climate, and produce. The assortment 
 of living birds displayed colours and plumage be- 
 yond any thing I ever saw, or could have con- 
 ceived to exist in nature; but after all, the rarest 
 part of the collection was the Quaker's beautiful 
 family ; and I should have pitied the man who was 
 so much of an antiquary op a virtuoso as not to 
 have thought so. 
 
 Having given orders to harden the heart of my 
 bed, I trust I shall be able to sleep without any 
 other opiate than the effect of a total absence of 
 rest last night. My friend Jones having left me 
 to see a relation on the other side of the Haven, 
 whence he does not return till to-morrow, I have 
 no inducement to protract my vigils, but shall 
 give you some farther account of myself to-mor- 
 row. In the mean time believe me to be, &c. 
 
 Milford, October 22, 180?. 
 MY BEAR CHARLES, 
 
 While supper is getting ready I sit down 
 to teeount this day's operations. Soon after 
 
53 
 
 breakfast a custom-house cutter wafted my friend 
 Jones across the water, for whom, as well as for 
 myself, I had secured a horse for the day, mean- 
 ing to visit Haverfordwest and its churches first, 
 and then return hy way of Stanton to our quarters. 
 The morning was fair, and the ride, through a rich 
 country, pleasant. We arrived at Haverfordwest 
 about twelve o'clock, and alighted at the Mari- 
 ners, an inn no way inferior to the Castle, as to 
 house, accommodations, or attendance. Having 
 taken care of our horses, and bespoke an early 
 dinner, we paid a visit to St. Mary's, St. Martin's, 
 and St. Thomas's churches, from a minute survey 
 of which I derived very little information to an- 
 swer my purpose. In St. Mary's 1 was shown an 
 old altar tomb, said to have been that of Robert 
 de Hwlfordd, the first of the family who died in 
 this country, uninscribed as to the history of the 
 period of his death, though round the rim it bears 
 an inscription about two hundred years old, to 
 commemorate an Haverfordwest alderman of that 
 day, who thought it, I suppose, an honour to mix 
 his dust with that of the first occupant; and at St. 
 Martin's the venerable Sibyl who attended showed 
 me an effigy of one (as she called it, in her C K am- 
 bro-Flemish dialect) of the " Awld Tankards of the 
 castle ;" meaning, I suppose, one of the Pita Tan* 
 creds, who, as I find in Sir Richard Hoare's notes 
 on Giraldus, was governor of the castle of Haver- 
 fordwest, under the Earl of Clare, and lord of the 
 place, and was said to have married a daughter of 
 the said Robert; though as to the effigy, judging 
 
 \ 3 
 
54 
 
 from the figure being that of a priest, I much sus- 
 pect the tradition. 
 
 But I was directed to a shopkeeper living at the 
 bottom of the street opening on the south side of 
 St. Mary's church, whose knowledge in genealogy 
 I was led to believe was so extensive, as to en- 
 courage me to call upon him, on a pretence of want- 
 ing some article from his shop ; but I found his 
 whole knowledge was confined to his own pedi- 
 gree, and the coat of the ancient and honourable 
 house he traced to ; which, by the by, he bore 
 with a baton sinistre. I however did not think 
 the half hour I passed with him ill employed, as 
 it gave me an opportunity of seeing a very original 
 character, with a sort of priggish formality about 
 him, and a face that never relaxes into a smile ; as 
 mad about his pedigree as ever Don Quixote was 
 about chivalry, and never sells a pennyworth of 
 tape without giving you a string of genealogy into 
 the bargain. Besides, he was deeply tinctured 
 with methodism, which mixing with his genealo- 
 gical mania, produced a strange confusion. Pie 
 was a rigid moralist, and inveighed severely 
 against the vices of that town, among which a 
 passion for playing cards (the devil's books, as he 
 called them) was the most prominent ; a vice so 
 endemic that it infected all ranks, but the clergy 
 were peculiarly addicted to it, who turned over their 
 cards oftener than their sermons. It is not only in 
 an evening, said he, that they play, but they kill 
 their mornings with it ; and a rainy Sunday is re- 
 served for great matches : nay, this ruling passion 
 is uppermost in the house of God, a house they 
 
55 
 
 visit more from fashion than choice; fox it was 
 but lately that a lady of the whist club, when 
 suddenly roused from her nap by an apostrophe of 
 the parson, more than ordinarily vociferous, 
 bawled out, " Spades arc frumps" During this 
 curious interview a fashionable young man, seem- 
 ingly in the habit of quizzing this eccentric shop- 
 keeper, entered, and succeeded in bringing much 
 more of his oddities to the surface than I had seen, 
 addressing him with the familiar appellations of 
 Massy and Mus\ and with respect to me and 
 what I was in search of, it was indeed 
 
 te Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus. H 
 
 Dinner hastily finished, and a few glasses of 
 wine as hastily taken off, we mounted our horses 
 and returned the same way, till we diverged to go 
 to Stanton. 
 
 We passed by Johnston, the seat of Lord Ken- 
 sington, situated too close to the road, and exhi- 
 biting nothing to give it a title to the magnificent 
 or the picturesque. His Lordship does not reside 
 there, it being rented out on lease since the death 
 of his father, much to the disadvantage of the 
 country and the mortification of the young peer, 
 who, I am told, though he is attached to Pembroke- 
 shire, and very deservedly popular, has his resi- 
 dence in the adjoining county of Carmarthen. I 
 peeped into the church, but saw nothing worthy 
 of notice, and could hear nothing respecting the 
 object of my search. 
 
 I stopped at Stanton, and meant to have intro- 
 i4 
 
56 
 
 duced myself to the clergyman of the place had 
 he been at home, who had been mentioned to me 
 as a good-humoured, sensible young man, though 
 probably but little of an antiquary, having his 
 time more usefully taken up in the tuition of a 
 few young gentlemen who board with him, a cha- 
 racter he discharges with much credit to himself, 
 and much advantage to his pupils. Yet at that 
 time, as I heard since my return, he lay under a 
 very heavy censure concerning the improper cor- 
 rection of one of the boys, and was threatened 
 with a prosecution. You perhaps may recollect 
 what the late Dr. Johnson says on that subject 
 when he is furnishing Bos well with arguments in 
 support of his client, a schoolmaster, in the same 
 predicament with the parson of Stanton. I think 
 I see him tolling his giant form (as it has been 
 described to me) from side to side, and dictating, 
 ore rot undo , when the following sentiments were 
 uttered : " The government of a schoolmaster is 
 somewhat of the nature of a military government, 
 it must be arbitrary. You must show that a 
 schoolmaster has a prescriptive right to beat, and 
 that an action of assault cannot be brought 
 against him unless barbarity can be shown. Puf- 
 fendorf, I think, maintains the right of a school- 
 master to beat his scholars. No severity is cruel 
 which obstinacy makes necessary ; for the greatest 
 cruelty would be to desist, and leave the scholar 
 too careless for instruction and too hardened for 
 reproof. Locke, in his Treatise on Education, 
 mentioned a mother with applause who whipped 
 
 f 
 
57 
 
 an infant eight times before she had subdued it. 
 The master who punishes, not only consults the 
 future happiness of him who is the immediate sub- 
 ject of correction, but he propagates obedience 
 through the w hole school. Correction must be 
 proportioned to occasions. Xo instrument of cor- 
 rection is more proper than another, but as it is 
 better adapted to produce present pain without 
 lasting mischief. Lord Mansfield once said in the 
 House of Lords — Severity is not the way to govern 
 either bo}^s or men. Nay (said Johnson), it is 
 the way to govern them ; I know not whether it 
 be the way to mend them/— Boszcctl. ; ' It is a 
 very delicate matter to interfere between a master 
 and his scholars, nor do I see how you can fix the 
 degree of severity that a master may use/' — 
 Johnson. " Why, Sir, till you can fix the degree 
 of obstinacy and negligence of the scholars, you 
 cannot fix the severity of the master/' 
 
 In the church I was shown the spot that tradi- 
 tion ascribes to Sir Adam Stanton, the first Nor- 
 man or Flemish lord of the place, and perhaps 
 founder of the church. There was likewise a plain 
 stone, said to cover one of the Ho (fords, who 
 married into the Stanton family. Besides, I was 
 informed, that, about seventy years ago, there -was 
 a pauper of that name on the parish, and, notwith- 
 standing his poverty, piqued himself on his line- 
 age, " nisi cum re xilior alga" 
 
 It was now night, and in our way to Milford 
 our attention was much excited by a singular light, 
 of a palish colour, that followed a church path, 
 
58 
 
 on ah opposite hill leading to Hubberston church, 
 and kept on in a sort of hopping progress, till we 
 lost sight of it by the intervention of the hedges 
 near the church. My friend Jones, who is not 
 totally divested of the strange superstition of his 
 country, held it to be a fetch-candle, one of those 
 lights known by the name of canwyll corph, said 
 to precede every funeral a year and a day before it 
 happens. 
 
 We just reached our inn, in time to escape a 
 severe wetting from a sudden fall of raii> that con- 
 tinued the whole night; and after supper our 
 conversation turned on preternatural appearances 
 of every kind, in the course of which we did not 
 fail to bring the Burford ghost into discussion. 
 Jones entertained me much, by a curious nar- 
 rative of facts relating to fetch-candles, and the 
 appearance of the whole funeral as it really hap* 
 pens, the persons attending it having been fre- 
 quently named half a year before it took place, 
 and some of those at the time in foreign parts, 
 and not likely to be of the number. These lights 
 are different in different places. At a town in 
 Carmarthenshire, Laugharne, the figure of the per- 
 son that will die, is seen in white, walking in the 
 dead of night to the church, carrying a candle. 
 It is only such, it seems, as happen tQ be born in 
 the night-time, who unhappily are gifted to see 
 those appearances. 
 
 In some part of Ireland I am told, that for 
 some nights before a person dies in a house, the 
 grunting of a pig is heard, and the brute itself is 
 
39 
 
 sometimes seen like a transparent painting, with an 
 illuminated scroll in its mouth bearing the name of 
 the devoted person. Do you know of any such tiling? 
 This is a quizzing age : every day begets Chatter- 
 tons and Irelands. Tales of mystic superstition 
 may be clothed in the most preposterous garb and 
 in the wildest style of romance, and perhaps are 
 entitled alike to the same degree of credit, whether 
 fabricated for the moment, or traditionally handed 
 down to us for ages. If we resume this subject, 
 I shall pester you with the result. In the mean 
 time I am, completely fagged, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 DEAR CHARLES, Milford, Oct. 23, 180;. 
 
 This being the last day of my intended 
 stay in this place, we breakfasted early, to have 
 our time before us, as it was proposed to see every 
 thing in its vicinity that had not been visited be- 
 fore : so, ordering a late dinner, I steered my course 
 eastward. A little to the south of the church 
 there is a small battery, as there is likewise an- 
 other on a commanding height above the old town 
 of Haking; but how far they are judiciously 
 or injudiciously placed I am not engineer enough 
 to determine. 
 
 Beyond the church are the ruins of an old 
 chapel, with a vaulted roof, called St. Catharine's, 
 a name now transferred to the new church. The 
 mother church is Stanton, as I mentioned before. 
 
60 
 
 Vaulted roofs occur frequently in such parts of 
 this county as the Normans and Flemings had 
 possession of, and towers and spires universally, 
 the churches in the Welsh division of the shire 
 being rarely, if ever, dignified with either. 
 
 From this chapel, taking a lane to the left, we 
 descend into the other pill, called Castle Pill, 
 running into the land in two small branches. 
 The tide being out, we crossed it by a long wooden 
 foot-bridge, covered when the tide is full, and 
 walked to see Castle Hall, a pretty villa of Mr. 
 Iiotch, a Quaker merchant, who came from Ame- 
 rica, bringing with him many of the same sect to 
 settle here, and carry on the South Sea whale 
 fishery, Mr. Iiotch, I am told, though a Quaker, 
 has very little but the name belonging to him, 
 observing nothing of rigorous formality either in 
 his dress or manner. His establishment is that of 
 a man of large fortune, and his family are brought 
 up in all the fashionable modern accomplishments. 
 The house is not large, but commodiously elegant, 
 and the grounds and gardens are laying out with 
 great taste. The hothouses comparatively are not 
 extensive, for a county in which hothouses, I un- 
 derstand, abound, and some on an enormous scale, 
 as those of Lord Cawdor and Lord Milford; but 
 I think they appear on a new and most admirable 
 construction. Gardeners in general are Scotch- 
 men, but Mr. Rotch's is an Irishman, and seem- 
 ingly master of his business, joining to a practical 
 knowledge of his profession a profound knowledge 
 of botany. The demesne, though small, consists 
 
81 
 
 of some of the choicest land hi Pembrokeshire, 
 on the confines of which, overhanging the Haven, 
 and commanding a beautiful reach of it, is a sum- 
 mer-house most judiciously placed. 
 
 This charming spot once belonged to the famous 
 Governor Hoi well, one of the few survivors of the 
 unhappy victims at Calcutta. After the Governor 
 left it, it continued long untenanted, but, about 
 seven years ago, was purchased by a wine-mer- 
 chant of Haverfordwest, whom some demon whis- 
 pered, 
 
 " Visto, have a taste/' 
 
 and contributed to his speedier ruin. On Ins failure 
 it was sold to the present proprietor, who has dis- 
 covered infinitely more taste than either the nabob 
 or the wine-merchant. 
 
 On the side of the Pill, opposite to which Castle 
 Hall stands, are the -faint vestiges of some earth- 
 works, with a little masonry, called Castle Pill, 
 They say the King's forces had a post here in the 
 time of the civil wars. 
 
 Following the other branch of this inlet, and 
 crossing the isthmus of the peninsular spot the 
 new town of Milford occupies, I descended into a 
 narrow valley at the extremity of the Haking 
 estuary; and just above, where the highest influx 
 of the tide is felt, stand the small remains of Pill 
 priory, founded and endowed by one Adam de 
 Rape, or de laJRoche\ yet, small as they are, if 
 well managed, and grouped to the best advantage, 
 they would make a pretty picture : but, unfortu- 
 
62 
 
 nately, neither my companion nor myself have any 
 knowledge of drawing, a circumstance I the more 
 regret, as I have never happened to see a view of 
 this retired spot. 
 
 It is my custom, when I visit any ruins, mi- 
 nutely to investigate the casings of windows and 
 doors, should any exist; and particularly any 
 little figures, frequently found to cany on their 
 breasts a shield, with sometimes an heraldic bear- 
 ing on it, that may prove a valuable clue to the 
 history of the place; but here nothing of that sort 
 could be discovered. I then inquired of the pea- 
 sants, whose cottages and little gardens occupied 
 the venerable precinct of what was once the priory 
 church, if any thing had been ever dug up amongst 
 the ruins, who told me, that a few years ago se- 
 veral flat tombstones, and some with letters on 
 them, which the parson of the parish, a main good 
 scholar (to use their own expression), could not 
 deeypher, had been turned up in a spot of ground 
 pointed out to me, now a garden, and that one 
 of them was then to be seen in the back yard of a 
 Quaker's house at Milford. I was likewise in- 
 formed, that a neighbour of theirs had, a few days 
 before, found a piece of thick sheet lead, in clear- 
 ing a draw-well, nailed on a piece of- wood, that 
 crumbled away as soon as taken up, with some 
 odd-shaped letters or figures on it. On my ex- 
 pressing a wish to see it, I was conducted to the 
 house where it was, and there I was shown a plate 
 of lead, about a foot wide and fifteen inches long, 
 covered over with raised Greek characters, small, 
 
63 
 
 but very plain. There being no doubt as to the 
 metal, I ventured to ask the possessor if he would 
 part with it, which he very readily assented to, 
 saying it was of little use to him, and the value 
 of the lead was no object. However, I gave him 
 half-a-crown, walked off with my purchase, and 
 left him perfectly satisfied. 
 
 I anticipate much gratification from the employ 
 that my leaden inscription is likely to give us; 
 yet, on account of some other attentions that 
 have a prior claim, we are obliged to defer the 
 examination of it till to-morrow. 
 
 J°y • j°y • j°y • — I have just received the fondly- 
 expected letter I ought to have had at Burford. 
 The waiting for it has seemingly cost me an age. 
 Oh! Charles, hast thou ever been in love with 
 any person above the rank of a bedmaker ? for, if 
 thou hast not, how wilt thou laugh at my com- 
 putation of time ! but the period may arrive when 
 thy moments shall be measured by the same scale. 
 Since the receipt of this blessed letter I am a new 
 man, I tread on air, and have no lead about me 
 but my antiquarian tablet. And now to sleep — 
 to sleep ! — no, no, to wake, to think of my Eliza ; 
 to think she lives, and lives not unmindful of her 
 faithful wanderer. Friendship, adieu ! yet believe 
 me to be. as much as an enthusiastic lover can be. 
 
 Yours. Sec. 
 
64 
 
 Pembroke. 
 MY DEAK CHARLES, 
 
 So great was my transport last night, 
 that, after the receipt of my Eliza's letter, I could 
 think of nothing but her; and I forgot to mention 
 a very material circumstance, that, will account for 
 our staying a day or two longer than we intended. 
 
 Just as we were preparing to sit down to sup- 
 per, the landlord entered, and begged to know if 
 we should have any objection to a gentleman join- 
 ing us, as all the other sitting-rooms were occupied 
 by large parties. We replied, nothing could be 
 more agreeable, as we wished for company and 
 variety. The gentleman was accordingly intro- 
 duced, who was an officer in the navy. A few 
 minutes brought us perfectly acquainted, and the 
 conversation soon took a nautical turn. On hear- 
 ing my name, he asked me if I had a relation in 
 the navy. On informing him I had an uncle, I 
 found that they had formerly been shipmates in 
 the Mediterranean. Being likewise told that I 
 was bound for Minehead, having occasion to make 
 some genealogical inquiries in that neighbourhood, 
 but was not so fortunate as to be known to a crea- 
 ture in that country, he very handsomely offered 
 me a recommendatory letter to a friend of his, a 
 brother officer retired from the service, whom he 
 had not seen for some years, a gentleman of fa- 
 mily, rank, and fortune. 
 
 Having travelled a great way, he sat with us 
 not so long as we could have wished, but said he 
 should be happy to be permitted to breakfast with 
 
65 
 
 us; a proposal to which we most cheerfully as- 
 sented; and hoped he could induce us to accom- 
 pany him up to Pembroke, whither he was going, 
 in a fine four-oared barge, early next morning, 
 and from which place, finding we had not seen it, 
 lie recommended it to us to ride to see Tenby, and, 
 if we had time, to visit Stackpool Court, the mag- 
 nificent seat of Lord Cawdor, about five miles from 
 the town of Pembroke. 
 
 The Captain, our new acquaintance, was punc- 
 tual to his hour; and, after breakfast, we took 
 boat for Pembroke, which we reached in a short 
 time, having a smart breeze and tide in our favour. 
 The morning was fine, and the river peopled with 
 a variety of all sorts of vessels and boats dancing 
 cross-minuets. There I first saw dredging for 
 oysters. 
 
 The town of Pembroke stands on a branch of 
 the haven that you enter through a narrow gut 
 called Pennar Mouth. Here the channel expands 
 so widely, that it is said there is room for a wet* 
 dock for all the navy of England. The shores 
 abound with limestone ; and few vessels enter this 
 channel but such as are employed in that trade, 
 and those that belong to Pembroke. The channel 
 is very intricate, and, except at high water, re- 
 quires a pilot. On each side, the land, thickly 
 sown with rich farm-houses and gentlemen's seats, 
 seems and is very uncommonly fertile, being a 
 red soapy loam over limestone, which is cultivated 
 with a spirit and in a style that would do credit to 
 any part of the kingdom. 
 
66 
 
 But how shall I be able to describe what I felt 
 at approaching the castle of Pembroke, which I 
 had the good fortune to see to the greatest ad- 
 vantage, in coming up to it by water, spring- tide ; 
 though seen every way, it must be an object un- 
 commonly striking : but approached by water, it 
 seized the attention with double force, presenting 
 itself on the almost insulated promontory it occu- 
 pies, so as to be seen nearly surrounded with 
 water, and independent of any thing material that, 
 from other points of view, is seen to unite with it, 
 and cause an unpleasing confusion; whereas we 
 saw it forming one stupendous whole, growing, 
 as it were, out of the rock it is built on. The 
 keep or citadel is an immense round tower, so high 
 that it peers supereminent over all the other build- 
 ings, and is finely clad with ivy, but not so as 
 entirely to conceal its parts. 
 
 There is a curious cavern under the castle, with 
 an entrance on the north side, communicating by 
 a narrow stone staircase with the buildings above. 
 Antiquaries and historians are divided in their 
 opinions, as to whether it is natural or artificial, 
 and as to its use. 
 
 Henry the Seventh was said to have been born 
 here ; and it is certain, that from this country he 
 set out to win the crown, a circumstance he never 
 forgot, being always partial ever after to Pem- 
 brokeshire. 
 
 This town was w r alled and flanked with nu- 
 merous bastions, was at full tides almost sur- 
 rounded by water, with an exception of the narrow 
 
isthmus at the east entrance, and must have been 
 a place of vast strength prior to the use of artil- 
 lery. Even in the civil wars it was known to have 
 held out a long siege, and was thought of so much 
 consequence as to require the active presence of 
 Cromwell himself before it, and then the surrender 
 was owing to the course of the water that supplies 
 the garrison having been betrayed and cut off. 
 
 During our short stay here we had an opportu- 
 nity of seeing a very fine body of yeomen cavalry, 
 who were this morning inspected by the inspect- 
 ing officer of the district, Colonel Stewart. They 
 appeared to be men whose countenances would not 
 be likely to be appalled at facing the Corsican ty- 
 rant's blood-hounds, should he be mad enough to 
 turn them loose on British ground. 
 
 A sight of this kind, in the breasts of all w T ho 
 feel as they ought to do for their country, must be- 
 get a new source of enjoyment to every one around 
 them, in whatever relation they may stand to their 
 country. The prospect may darken, but the con- 
 scious security derived from the consideration of 
 such gallant and voluntary defenders, is sufficient 
 to shed a sunshine on it, were it ten times darker. 
 
 Our companion, the Captain, finding that we 
 were not to sail yet for two days, had so much 
 good humour and fascination about him, that he 
 found little difficulty in persuading us to accom- 
 pany him to Tenby, the famous sea-bathing place 
 of this country, and one of the most delightful 
 in the kingdom. We therefore hired horses, and 
 had one of the most charming rides I ever re- 
 
68 
 
 member to have taken in my life, of about ten 
 miles, over the Ridgeway, the road leading over the 
 summit of a high ridge, commanding, on one 
 hand, the sea, and on the other a rich vale, with 
 the mountains at a distance beyond it. 
 
 We passed too far from the famed castle of Carew 
 to form anv idea of the grandeur of its ruins, and 
 our time would not admit of such a digression as 
 would bring us nearer; but we deviated a little 
 out of the road to visit the birth-place of the cele- 
 brated Giraldus, Manorbeer castle, which we from 
 without examined, but could not be admitted 
 within its walls, as it has been for some years a 
 depot of smuggled goods, being most commodi- 
 o.usly situated for any illicit traffic, just above a 
 small creek. 
 
 Giraldus's description is very exact, and I am 
 not surprised at his partiality to a place, which not 
 only had a claim on it, from having been the place 
 of his nativity, but as in itself involving the prin- 
 cipal ingredients of a charming landscape. 
 
 The situation of Tenby has been so often the 
 subject of panegyric, that I shall not insult you 
 so far as to suppose you have not read a much 
 better description than any I can pretend \o. give 
 of it. I think it is impossible to combine more 
 pleasing qualifications for a bathing-place, if we 
 consider the pure air it must be ventilated with, 
 and the clearest sea and finest sand I ever saw sur- 
 rounding the peninsula, crowned by the town. 
 
 The church, without and within, is a most re- 
 spectable building, and seems to have been larger 
 than it is. 
 
69 
 
 It was' formerly a place of great trade, and one 
 of the principal towns of the Flemish settlers ; and 
 once boasted of most productive fishing-banks, 
 and hence it had the name of Dynbich y Pyscod, 
 that is, the Fishing Denbigh, to distinguish it from 
 the inland Denbigh, in North Wales. Though it 
 now maintains a superiority in fishery over every 
 other place on this coast, yet the marks pointing 
 out the old banks are lost, or the banks are 
 shifted. 
 
 Sir William Paxton, whose seat I mentioned in 
 Carmarthenshire, though no Welshman, has done 
 for that county, and for this place, more than all 
 the gentlemen who boast to be natives of the 
 country. He is now building very magnificent 
 baths near the pier, for warm sea-bathing, and has 
 remedied the greatest inconvenience, and perhaps 
 the only material one, the town laboured under, 
 a lack of good water, by forming an aqueduct, at 
 great expense, that shall effectually supply the de- 
 fect; and is projecting many other things, to 
 render this place more attractive, by his endeavours 
 to remove every objection it may be liable to. 
 
 Here I saw the largest oysters I ever met with, 
 too large to be eaten raw, but which are admi- 
 rable in sauce, escalloped, or pickled. Mountains 
 of shells, the aggregate of many a century, occur 
 in several parts of the town, forming a nuisance 
 that would amply pay for removing, to be used 
 for a manure. The season appeared to be on the 
 decline, as I did not observe much company. In 
 our way down to the baths, and to examine 
 
 F 3 
 
70 
 
 curious site of the castle, we were joined by a 
 gentleman, who had just stepped out of a hand- 
 some carriage, with an escutcheon, as Jones, who 
 numbers among his various acquirements a deep 
 knowledge of heraldry, afterwards told me, bearing 
 the arms of a noble family of this county, viz. argent 
 a lion rampant sable, chained or, but with, as he 
 suspects, a modern augmentation of two bees in 
 chief, whether borne for their hum, their sting, or 
 their honey, or for all three, the bearer best knew. 
 As his road and ours seemed to take the same di- 
 rection, with a peculiar ease and frankness, and 
 without ceremony, apology, or seeking a pretence 
 for accosting us, he broke out into an extravagant 
 panegyric on the beauties of the place, evidently 
 a set performance, and too artificial, considered 
 with regard to the regularity of its composition 
 or the volubility of its delivery, to be supposed to 
 be an effusion of the moment. His eulogium closed, 
 with outspread arms, and his beaver up, which 
 was as broad as a Quaker's, he cried, looking to the 
 ocean, " Don't you think, gentlemen, this prospect 
 is enchanting?" Promising some entertainment 
 from our new and forward acquaintance, there was 
 not the least coyness on our part, and we echoed 
 his raptures, the Captain swearing, " Ay, if we had 
 the Brest fleet in sight, and praying Jemmy within 
 cannon-shot of them !" At this moment seeing a 
 gentleman in a Bath chair, seemingly a martyr to 
 the gout, pushed along, our loquacious companion 
 entered into a long disquisition of that disorder, 
 and wished to know to what its greater frequency 
 
71 
 
 flow than in ancient times was to be ascribed ; for, 
 3aid he, " Classic authors, who give us the costume 
 of the age they lived in with the minutest detail, 
 rarely find occasion to mention it. We must surely 
 attribute it to our diet, some particular condiment 
 that our forefathers were strangers to." — "There can 
 be no doubt of it," said Jones ; " what a variety of 
 diseases we may place to the account of tea alone, 
 and diseases which, perhaps, a Chinese physician 
 would know better how to treat than our Vaue-han 
 and Baillie. I am of opinion," continued Jones, " that 
 the seeds of all disorders incident to man are sown 
 alike through the human species, and that it is 
 to some peculiarity in climate, food, raiment, ex- 
 ercise, or influence of mind over body, that we 
 are indebted for calling them out. And it is the 
 same in the vegetable as the animal world : the 
 rudiments of thousands of plants, yet unknown 
 to us, may be dormant in the earth, and only re- 
 quire the suitable culture, aliment, or manure, to 
 rouse them into perfect vegetation. A gentleman, 
 a friend of mine, who does every thing in capitals, 
 his motto being ' Quod vult, valde vult,' covered 
 an immense field with such a thickness of lime, 
 that it might be said to be plastered over, so that 
 for two or three years, till this stucco was washed 
 into, and became incorporated with, the soil, all 
 growth was choked; but afterwards the vege- 
 tation was most surprisingly rank and luxuriant, 
 and here and there a new species of plants, that set 
 our botanists at defiance, made their appearance." — 
 " If lime," said the Captain, " could produce such a- 
 
 f 4 
 
72 
 
 change, what kind of an Arctic crop, think you, 
 must that gentleman have had, who, I was told, 
 manured his fields with whale's blubber, as if he 
 meant to have furnished pasture for rein-deer?" The 
 stranger then flew over an infinity of topics, light- 
 ing, like his own bee, but a moment on each, to sup- 
 ply which he traversed the whole kingdom, "from 
 old Belerium to the northern main ';" talked much of 
 Opie, British press, Pratt, Peter Pindar, longevity, 
 Shetland, statistical accounts, Board of Agriculture, 
 omlets, mountebanks, wooden cuts, loves of the 
 plants, Dr. Thornton, Bologna sausages, wastelands, 
 second sight, Scotch marmalade, and Sir John Sin- 
 clair. He gave us the portrait of what he conceived 
 to be a patriotic senator, and I thought wished us 
 to believe that he had sat for the picture. He talked 
 of city offices, city honours, and city feasts, as if 
 he had had a surfeit of them, for the latter of 
 which he professed he was totally unfit, being* too 
 much a Pythagorean to be carnivorous, for he said" 
 he had for many years lived on vegetables and 
 pastry, and he was so fortunate as to be able to 
 boast, 
 
 (e That his wife, little Kitty, was famous for crust." 
 
 In our Way back to our inn, after examining the 
 baths, the pier, and the castle, the Captain hap- 
 pening to make use of a proverb very appropriate 
 to the subject; adding, that it was the translation 
 of a Welsh one, our strange acquaintance observed, 
 that the Welsh proverbs were said to be very nu- 
 merous and very expressive, and he wondered they 
 were not published and translated. " Why/' said 
 
/ j 
 
 Jones, " they are partly published in the original, 
 in a work called the Myvyrian Archaiology, a work 
 we owe to the spirit of a plain Welsh tradesman, 
 a fur-merchant in Thames Street, who, at his own 
 expense, has undertaken to preserve the valuable 
 treasures of Welsh literature, that were scattered 
 over the kingdom, and on the point of perishing 
 in manuscript, by bringing them together, and 
 giving them to the public in a more durable form; 
 and, if he lives, I believe it is his intention to 
 have the w r hole of what he has thus collected put 
 into an English dress. As to myself, I venerate 
 proverbs; I am as fond of them as ever Sancho 
 Panza was : they are, as a friend of mine, in a 
 poem of his, calls them, 
 
 • Rich drops, distilFd from the wisdom of ages.* 
 
 In short, they are in ethics what essential oil is in 
 chemistry." — " The furrier, your countryman," said 
 the stranger, " deserves a statue of gold ; and if it 
 were to be raised by subscription, I should be 
 proud to contribute largely towards it. I love 
 learning, whatever language be the vehicle, and its 
 patrons of whatever country they may be. I have 
 been always conversant with letters." By this time 
 we were arrived at our inn, and we were met by 
 the landlord, to say that our dinner was waiting. 
 The man of letters bowed and withdrew, leaving 
 us in admiration of so singular a character, whom, 
 on inquiry of the landlord, we found to be literally 
 a man of letters, a London bookseller. 
 
 Who do you think accosted me, just as I was 
 stepping into the inn we dined at, but our little 
 
74 
 
 friend Captain B , Don Whiskerandos ? whom 
 
 I had not seen, since the ridiculous adventure we had 
 with him at Vauxhall last year, when he was near 
 getting into a scrape with the old libertine in the 
 pink riband. He is as vain, and perhaps as poor, 
 as ever. He took me aside — " My dear boy,"said he, 
 " I am in chase as usual — A fine girl ! a fine fortune! 
 and no small encouragement !" (showing me a mi- 
 niature he drew from his bosom, which he had 
 perhaps picked up for a crown at a pawnbroker's) ; 
 " a beautiful brunette, as you see — twenty thousand 
 pounds at her own disposal, and as much more 
 at the death of her mamma, with whom, by the 
 by, I am a monstrous favourite, so much so, that 
 I think the old lady would be resigned to leave 
 this world with pleasure, to let me into the other 
 twenty thousand pounds, rather than I should live 
 wretched without it. Well, Jack, adieu! you 
 shall hear of me if I succeed ; if not, these rocks 
 will afford me a lover's leap ; I shall be forgotten, 
 and food for crabs. When you write to Ireland, 
 tell O'Brien what a lucky dog I am." 
 
 What vanity ! yet here is a creature seemingly 
 the happiest of mankind ! boasting of adventures 
 he neither had talents nor spirit to engage in, and 
 moving about the world, with apparently no means 
 to answer such expense, in rather a splendid style; 
 and yet he keeps above water, though he has no 
 visible life-boat. 
 
 After dinner our new companion, the Captain, 
 entered deeply into the subject of farming, saying 
 he had done with ploughing the ocean, which he 
 
75 
 
 found, with all the culture he gave it, returned 
 him but a scurvy crop; but that, since he had 
 begun to plough the land, he had profited more in 
 one year than he ever did on the ocean all his life. 
 He then talked heathen Greek to me, going largely 
 into the praise of the Swedish turnip, French furze, 
 and tares. " The green fat of turtle," said he, " is 
 not more grateful to the palate of a city alderman, 
 than a crop of the same colour is to land, especially 
 if it is washed well down with its due proportion 
 of moisture." 
 
 There being fine moonlight, we returned that 
 night to Pembroke, to be ready early in the morn- 
 ing to go down by water to Milford, the boat 
 waiting there for that purpose. 
 
 Our Cicerone, who was a little elevated by the 
 ale he drank (for he tasted no other liquor), enter- 
 tained us all the way to Pembroke with naval ex- 
 ploits and naval frolics, in which he himself made 
 no inconsiderable figure. He represented Lord 
 Nelson as one who, at a very early time of life, 
 had, by making too free with his constitution, so 
 debilitated himself, as nearly at times not to be 
 able to walk the length of the ship as to bodily 
 strength, yet, by strength of mind in the moment 
 of peril or action, was equal to any service, and 
 triumphed over the clog of body which at other 
 times seemed to encumber him. 
 
 With a feast of Pennarmouth oysters, and ex- 
 cellent Welsh ale, we regaled ourselves after our 
 ride. Supper ended, the noble Captain, who was 
 one of the most determined smokers I ever knew, 
 
\tfrapped us in the fumes of tobacco for an hour, 
 continuing, between whiff and whiff arid pipe 1 arid 
 pipe, to entertain us with more aneccl6tes of his 
 nautical life; and at parting, after Ins last pipe, 
 communicated the following remarkable circum- 
 stance that befell a sailor on board a man of war in 
 the Mediterranean : The sailor, in an action, re- 
 ceived a contusion on his head by a splinter, and 
 was instantly deprived of every sensation, remain- 
 ing in that state of torpor, after undergoing va^ 
 rious experiments at different hospitals abroad,' for 
 one whole year taking no sustenance, till, on his 
 return to England, being sent to St. Thomas's 
 Hospital, he was trepanned, an operation not per- 
 formed before, but which restored him in an in- 
 stant to his speech arid every other sense, for he 
 loudly called out in his own language, Welsh, 
 Mam, Mam, that is, Mother, Mother. When 
 asked if he could recollect any thing, from the 
 time he had the accident to the moriierit, I riiay 
 say, of his revival, he replied, that he had no idea 
 of what passed ; for any knowledge he had of the 
 interval, it might be a moment or an age'. — Blinded 
 almost with smoke, arid truly fatigued, I must 
 wish you a good night, and follow my companions, 
 who have left me some time. Adieu, and believe 
 me, 
 
 Yours, m 
 
'77 
 
 Milford, October 25, ISO/. 
 MY DEAR C1L\HLES, 
 
 As to-morrow is destined far our voyage, 
 we have not wandered far from our inn ; which, 
 after a pleasant sail for the greater part of the way 
 from Pembroke, we arrived at by half past nine, 
 having wind and tide in our. favour. 
 
 After breakfast, our naval friend took his leave 
 of us, swearing that he would have been happy to 
 have had us in tow longer, if he had not been 
 ($$igfifl to obey signals elsewhere: sp, after writing 
 his letter of recommendation to his friend in So- 
 mersetshire, he slipped his cable, and was soon un- 
 der way. 
 
 I forgot to tell you, that during my genealogical 
 search at Haverfordwest I met at the inn where 
 we dined, a gentleman, who had himself that morn- 
 ing been to visit the churches of the town, to 
 see if they contained any curious monuments, 
 epitaphs, or relics of antiquity, with a view to 
 illustrate some work relating to that county, he 
 professed to be engaged in. The frankness of his 
 niarmer induced me to explain to him the motive 
 of my visit to that town, and he very handsomely 
 proffered his services, modestly saying, that as 
 he had some very full manuscript pedigree hooks, 
 chiefly of Pembrokeshire families, he would make 
 a point of looking over them, to see if they con- 
 tained any thing to my purpose; and added, that 
 lie would either transmit the result, of his r.e- 
 
78 
 
 searches by letter, or would wait on me at 
 Milford, being a place he was about paying 
 a visit to, on bis own account, if he could 
 make it convenient, before we should have left 
 it. I mentioned the time of our intended stay 
 there; and this morning about twelve o'clock, 
 while Jones and I were busily employed in pack- 
 ing up, and arranging every thing for our sea 
 jaunt, our antiquarian acquaintance was announ- 
 ced. He professed himself happy in having it in 
 his power to inform me, that his genealogical in- 
 quiries had been more successful than he had ex- 
 pected. He then produced a pedigree, very neatly 
 drawn out and blazoned by a young man, his son, 
 who accompanied him, proving almost every alli- 
 ance I wanted to substantiate. Besides, in the 
 course of his investigation, he found that he had 
 some of the Hw If or dd blood in his veins, and showed 
 me a law case, with an opinion on it in Charles the 
 Second's time, including much genealogy relating 
 to a small property which came to his father, in 
 consequence of the above alliance to a Hwlfordd. 
 Remote as this link might be to us or to our com- 
 mon ancestor of that name, yet we mutually seemed 
 to feel it, and it produced visibly a reciprocal in- 
 terest, not to be described. 
 
 As we learned that my new relation and his son 
 did not intend quitting Milford that night, we so- 
 licited the favour of their company to pass the 
 day with us. As they had some object in view, 
 and the young gentleman had drawings to 
 make, who favoured us, before we parted, with a 
 
79 
 
 few elegant specimens of his pencil, they left us 
 for an hour or two, giving us an opportunity of 
 finishing our arrangements, and them time to ac- 
 complish the business they were upon, and enabling 
 both them and us, perfectly at leisure, to enjoy each 
 other's company for the rest of the evening. 
 
 Our guests having returned, we dined on very fine 
 fish and Welsh mutton, rendered more relishing by 
 means of that most excellent of all pickles, samphire, 
 here in thehighestperfection ; and an accompaniment 
 of all others most in unison with Welsh mutton, call- 
 ed laver, or vulgarly black batter, the produce of 
 a fine marine plant or alga, found in abundance on 
 the coast of this count}. Epicures are divided 
 about the real name given to this sauce; some in- 
 sisting on its being laver, from laver to wash ; as 
 the plant undergoes repeated ablutions, to rid it of 
 the sand it involves in its line folds ; others lava, 
 as representing the eruption of a volcano in colour 
 and heat, it being always served up smoking hot, 
 from a dish over a lamp, and resembling in hue, 
 the volcanic fluid; or, to bring it home to the con- 
 ception of such as may have never seen the over- 
 flowings of Vesuvius, exactly resembling the ex- 
 crement of young calves ; a dark olive, verging on 
 black. I never had seen it till I came into this 
 country, and found myself, from its hue and 
 consistence, so prejudiced against its appearand 
 that it was with difficulty I was prevailed on to 
 taste it ; but my taste soon reproached i 
 for my squeamishness ; and I have never sn 
 exposed myself to a repetition of such reproaches, 
 
so 
 
 When I have had an opportunity of falling in with 
 this best of all mutton sauces*. On the other 
 side, you have Jones's account of its medicinal pro- 
 perties. 
 
 After dinner, and a temperate circulation of the 
 glass, interlarded with much interesting conversa- 
 tion respecting the Welsh language, managed in- 
 geniously on the part of my friend Jones, and our 
 new guest, who spoke of it with an enthusiasm, 
 
 * Laver is made of a fine marine plant called Ulva Lactuca, 
 or Lactuca Marina, consisting of a thin green pellucid membrane 
 or leaf, from two inches to a foot or more in length, and from 
 one to five inches in breadth, undulated or laciniated on the mar- 
 gin like a Cos lettuce leaf, growing sometimes single, but gene- 
 rally in clusters, reclining over each other ; but the Ulva Umlili~ 
 calls is preferred, which is a wide membraneous leaf, of a dark 
 dull purple colour, of circular shape, variously sinuated on the 
 margin, smooth and shining, and affixed to the rock or stone by 
 a central root. Being gathered, it is washed clean from sand 
 and slime, and left to drain between two tiles j then it is shred 
 small, kneaded like dough, and made up into balls, which is called 
 Bara Llavan, laver bread. Llavan is a strand in the Welsh lan- 
 guage. As a medicine, it is a fine aperient and antiscorbutic. The 
 inhabitants of the Hebrides eat it with pepper and vinegar, when 
 stewed, adding leeks and onions -, they ascribe to it an anodyne 
 power, and bind the leaves about their temples, to ease violent 
 head-achs, and procure sleep. In the account given of it in Ed- 
 ward Lwyd's Additions to Gibson's Camden (which Gough in 
 his edition erroneously ascribes to the Bishop), is the following 
 extract from a letter sent him by the Rev. Nicholas Roberts : 
 " Some eat it raw, and others fried with oatmeal and butter. It 
 is accounted sovereign against all distempers of the liver and 
 spleen j and a celebrated physician of that day, Dr. Owen, assured 
 me, that he found relief from it in the acutest fits of the stone." 
 
81 
 
 arising from his seemingly thorough knowledge of 
 his subject, and a conviction of the superior ex- 
 cellence of the language he was desirous of vin- 
 cheating from the indiscriminate censure with 
 which it was the fashion to brand it, as harsh, gut- 
 tural, and incapable of grammatical rules, whereas 
 ■ he would engage to prove to the reasonable and 
 dispassionate, that the charge of harsh and guttu- 
 ral depended more on the tongue of the speaker, or 
 the ear of the hearer, than on any constitutional 
 vice in the language itself; which, if not judged 
 of from the patois of the peasant, in the mouth of 
 a gentleman and a scholar, is grand and harmo- 
 nious ; copious, without being verbose ; and if it 
 had been for these 1500 years, like the other Euro- 
 pean languages, improving instead of decaying, 
 and being, as it were, expatriated, would have by 
 this time lent nerve to the drama, and supplied* a 
 fit vehicle for the enchanting notes of a Catalani. 
 
 This subject exhausted, I introduced my relic of 
 antiquity for discussion, which I had almost for- 
 gotten, and believe' should have left behind me, if 
 the accession of a professed antiquary to our so- 
 ciety had not brought it to my recollection. 
 
 I told you in a former letter, that the inscrip- 
 tion was in a Greek character, and tolerably le- 
 gible ; but though we all understood that language, 
 and Jones was deeply read in it, we could not 
 make out a word that we could trace to any Greek 
 root; a circumstance that puzzled us, nay vexed 
 us exceedingly. At last our guest, with a sagacity 
 he had discovered on several occasions, in the 
 
 Q 
 
82 
 
 course of the evening, suggested that the words, 
 though written in a Greek character, might be 
 Latin, thereby rendering the inscription more mys- 
 terious ; we then fell to trying it by this test, and 
 wrote the words in Roman letters, and made out 
 the following monkish lines : 
 
 Prope locum ubi, valle 
 Procul profanorum calle, 
 Templum primus vir fundavit, 
 Et rupis Virgin! dicavit, 
 Duorum gladiorum portu, 
 Nobilis haeredis hortu 
 Legati Angli, Dani Pilla 
 Edificetur magna villa ; 
 Quo colere Mercurium quest& # 
 Quovis vento, quovis sestu, 
 Congregabunt mercatores 
 Sicut apes circa flores : 
 Cum tremebundi nova munda 
 Lucem trahent ex profundo \ 
 Et sacre positum honore, 
 Ftli magni Eleanors 
 Malum summum orientis, 
 Domo Dei quando sentis, 
 Tunc vas Egypti ministrabit, 
 Et infantes cruci dabit. 
 
 But though Latin words were made out, and 
 those not perfect nonsense, yet turn them in what 
 way we would, we could not give them consistency 
 or explanation. Another suggestion was then ha- 
 zarded by our stranger friend : "It is evidently, " 
 exclaimed he, with rapture, " an enigmatical pro- 
 phecy (for all prophecies are more or less so); and 
 now for an Edipus. 
 
 " First, let us translate it literally : * Near the 
 ( tlavc where, in a valley far from the path of the 
 
8 
 
 c» 
 
 'profane, the first man built a temple, and dedi- 
 ' cated it to the Virgin of the rock, in the haven 
 1 of the two swords.' Why, does not that point 
 out the founder of the old priory, in the ruins 
 of which this relic was found? for perhaps, 
 gentlemen, you, being strangers, may not know 
 that the monastic building in question was 
 founded by Adam de Rape or de la Roche, dedi- 
 cated to St. Mary of the Rock ; and by the haven 
 of the two swords, must clearly be meant Milford, 
 in Welsh called Aberdaugleddau, the harbour, or 
 port, formed of two swords, rivers so called, Cled- 
 dan being Welsh for a sword. Thus far I think 
 we have got on intelligibly; but I fear the sequel 
 will not afford us so easy a clue ; but let us pro- 
 ceed * * At the instance of the noble heir of an 
 ' English ambassador, a great town shall be built i?i 
 6 the Pill of the Dane.' It appears to me, that this 
 is prophetic of the new town of Milford, being the 
 creation of the Right Hon. Charles Greville, the 
 hares J actus of the late Sir William Hamilton, am- 
 bassador to Naples, which may be said to be built 
 in the Danes Pill, or estuary, namely Hubba's. So 
 far we sail before the wind, and I presume we may 
 get a few knots on, without much difficulty, as the 
 
 lines, 
 
 r Quo colere Mercurium questCi, 
 
 ' Quovis ven to, quovis sestu, 
 
 ' Congregabunt mercatores 
 
 • Sicut apes circa flores,' 
 
 * JV hither merchants will flock to carry on trade 
 ' f or g a ' in i Me bees about the flowers, with every 
 1 wind and tide ; evidently imply the consequence 
 
 g*2 
 
84 
 
 of such a creation, for ' w here the carrion is, 
 ' there the crows will be also.' " 
 
 Now came a puzzler; we read and read again, 
 we pondered, we paused, we ruminated; our ges- 
 tation was long and painful; at last .Jones pro- 
 posed another bottle, to facilitate the birth ; a mo- 
 tion we readily assented to. The bottle was or- 
 dered and brought, which we drank in awful si- 
 lence. In order however to induce a discussion, 
 I ventured to break it, by observing, that the 
 four next lines, " When the Shakers from the 
 new world shall draw light from the deep," 
 served to mark the time of the event referred 
 to in the last couplet, and that the first line 
 might shadow out the Quakers, who had come 
 from the new world, another hemisphere, to settle 
 there; but how they could be said to draw light 
 from the deep, I could not understand, " Why now," 
 said our guest, " as you have pointed our attention 
 to the Quakers, this may be readily solved. They 
 carry on the South Sea whale fishery, the produce 
 of which is sperma cceti ; out of this substance 
 candles are made, and is not this drawing light from 
 the deep;" — " But there follows another designation 
 of the time," said our guest's son, who, modestly 
 attentive to every thing that passed, had never, till 
 now, presumed to take a part in the conversation, 
 or hazard a guess, " and which I flatter myself, my 
 visit to the church before dinner, has enabled me 
 to explain : 
 
 f Et sacre positum honore 
 ' Fili magni Eleanors, 
 
85 
 
 * Malum summum orientis 
 
 * Domo Dei quando sentis, 
 
 ' Tunc vas Egypti ministrabi^ 
 ' Et infantes cruci dabit.' 
 
 Literally translated : e JVhcn you see the highest 
 
 ■ mast of the Orient in the house of God, piously 
 \ placed there in honour of the great son of Eleanor ; 
 
 ■ then an Egyptian vase shall minister, and give in- 
 6 f ants to the cross. 7 Is not the highest point of the 
 l'Orient's mast seen in the new church? and has 
 it not been placed there, in honour of the great 
 son of Eleanor, that is, Nets sen? and may not the 
 Egyptian vase, now ministering as a font, be said 
 to give infants to the cross by baptism?" There 
 was no opposing this ingenious solution of the 
 finale of the prophecy. 
 
 The young Edipus having begged to make a fac 
 simile of the leaden plate and its inscription, which 
 he did with wonderful expedition and correctness, 
 one for himself and the other for me, together with 
 an impromptu translation * in verse ; I packed it 
 
 * Near the place, in valley, where 
 The first of men, of whom we hear, 
 A holy pile was said to raise, 
 Devoted to the Virgin's praise j 
 Far from path of the profane, 
 In Two-sword port, in Till of Dane, 
 A town of great extent shall rise, 
 In after-times, as shall advise 
 An English legate's noble heir, 
 Whither merchants shall repair, 
 Round the flowers as thick as bees, 
 With every wave, with every breeze, 
 
 63 
 
86 
 
 tip with this and my two former letters, to send by 
 the next packet that sails, directed for you to the 
 care of our common friend at Wateiford; and I 
 must request you would have the goodness to 
 show it to General Vallancey, the generalissimo 
 of antiquaries, who perhaps may explain the two 
 or three curious characters inclosed in a true-lover's 
 knot, on the back of the plate, which appears to 
 be talismanic. 
 
 My companions have left me some time, and a 
 disposition to take the same road as they have 
 done, predominates over every wish to scribble 
 longer. So adieu, till I find myself on the other 
 side of the channel 
 
 To Charles O'Brien, Esq. 
 
 At Sea, October 26, I8O7. 
 2V1Y DEAR SIR, 
 
 Whilst our friend, your correspondent, 
 
 from violent sea-sickness, is totally unable to carry 
 
 — • ■ 1 ^ ■ ii 1 ■ ~ - 
 
 The state of commerce to maintain, 
 And worship Maia's son for gain. 
 When those, who are dispos'd to shake, 
 Shall the new-found world forsake 5 
 And shall, wonderful! to sight, 
 Draw from ocean's depth the light j 
 When the Orient's topmast you 
 In the house of God shall view ; 
 A pious act, in honour done 
 Of Eleanora's mighty son; 
 Then the Egyptian vase of note 
 SbaJJ infants to the cross devote. 
 
8T 
 
 on his journal, I am requested to supply his place, 
 which I fear I shall do but awkwardly, yet I trust 
 my subject will atone for the vehicle, and it would 
 have been unpardonable for any man in my situa- 
 tion to overlook the sublime scenery that presented 
 itself to m}' view on all sides, without endeavour- 
 ing some description of it, however inadequate my 
 pen may be to the task. You must know then, 
 that we had scarce got without the haven of Mil- 
 ford, when the favourable breeze that Ave set off 
 with died away, and we were for several hours 
 perfectly becalmed, close to the rocky coast to the 
 west of Milford. 
 
 At this season of the year there never was a 
 finer day; and such was the smoothness of the ele- 
 ment we were on, that it admitted of the small 
 boat belonging to the vessel being rowed close 
 under the land in every direction ; an opportunity I 
 was happy to avail myself of, as it enabled me to 
 form a pretty correct estimate of the height, the 
 form, and the stratification of this grand line of 
 coast; and I know not which to admire most, the 
 stupendous height of the cliffs, their caves and 
 endlessly varied sinuosities, or the singular dispo- 
 sition of their strata. Here and there, disjointed 
 from the land, arc seen several insular rocks, of 
 various shapes and sizes, here called Stacks, co- 
 vered so thickly with different sea-fowl, that you 
 could hardly put a pin between, and yet perpe- 
 tually in an up and down motion, like jacks in a 
 harpsichord. Individually their various notes are 
 most horridly discordant, yet in concert produce a 
 
 ?4 
 
88 
 
 sort of melody very peculiar, and not unpleas- 
 ing. 
 
 I had often heard and read of these rocks, but 
 the account seemed to be so vague, and so unequal 
 to what they affected to describe, that I should 
 suspect them to be secondhand, or such as might 
 have been collected frpm a general, and, most likely^ 
 cursory view of them from above, which, though 
 it may be sufficient to excite astonishment, yet 
 must leave the most essential part of their cha- 
 racter unknown, and only to be discovered by 
 seeing them, as I have fortunately done, in de- 
 tail, and from the water. 
 
 What a convulsion must nature have undergone 
 to have occasioned this wonderfully fantastical ap- 
 pearance, particularly in the strata of these cliffs, 
 taking every shape that a line can assume ! 
 
 Unruffled as the face of the ocean was here this 
 day, I learn from the sailors, and it is evident from 
 the visible effects of its ravage, that the sea beat- 
 ing on this coast, when agitated by a storm from 
 the west or north-west, is tremendous. 
 
 I here for the first time saw a perfect hermitage, 
 in the little chapel of St. Govan's, which we got 
 ashore to visit, clambering over large fragments, 
 tumbled down, in the lapse of time, from the sum- 
 mit of the rocks, forming a sort of rude beach. 
 The little oratory is niched in a fissure of the cliffs, 
 very high up, only large enough to receive it; 
 after passing the rough beach, with steps of cau- 
 tion, the ascent to it is by many winding irregular 
 steps, which* they say, have the mystic property 
 

89 
 
 of confounding all attempts to count them. In 
 the course of this difficult ascent, two or three 
 stones, at stated intervals, are shown you, of pre- 
 cisely the same quality as all the other stones 
 around them, being limestone, but differing from 
 their neighbours, by possessing a bell sound, thus 
 accounted for : Tradition says, the chapel was 
 once visited by pirates, who sacrilegiously plun- 
 dered it of its only moveable treasure, its bell, 
 which, in their way down to the vessel, to the 
 few stones it happened to touch, or be rested on, 
 it communicated the miraculous power of utter- 
 ing, when struck, a bell sound ever after. Thev 
 likewise show you, in the cavity of a stone skirt- 
 ing the ascent about midway, a little water, be- 
 lieved by the superstitious to be unfailing, but 
 shrewdly suspected, by such as judge of things 
 through an unprejudiced medium, to be adven- 
 titious. Many cures are supposed to be performed, 
 by bathing the limbs here ; and the place is fre- 
 quented much in summer by the poorer sort of 
 people from the interior, who leaving their votive 
 crutches behind, to line the walls of the chapel, 
 return restored to their limbs, which perhaps may 
 be ascribed, with more justice, to change of air 
 and the sea-breeze, than to any virtues inherent in 
 this equivocal moisture, found in the stone basin and 
 in the floor of the chapel : and I am of opinion 
 that this may hold good with respect to all water- 
 ing-places, as I firmly believe that half the cures 
 attributed to them may be oftener placed to the 
 account of a difference in air, diet, exercise, va- 
 
90 
 
 cancy of mind, and regulations productive of 
 greater temperance, than to any salutary proper- 
 ties in the waters themselves. 
 
 The sailors told me, that, a few years back, such 
 was the veneration the St. Govan's fluid was held 
 in, it was a common thing for people of the better 
 sort, inhabiting the English parts of this county, 
 to bring their infants there to undergo unction 
 (for bathing it cannot be called), on a supposition, 
 to use their own phrase, that the water made them 
 more cute, that is, whetted their intellect, making 
 them more acute and subtle; but if they at all 
 partook of the appearance of the fluid, I am sure 
 it must make them muddy and dull. 
 
 In the rock, to which the east of the ora- 
 tory is affixed, is a cell, most probably the ori- 
 ginal receptacle of the rigid anchorite, barely ca 
 pable of admitting a small body to screw itself in, 
 but supposed to have the power of containing the 
 largest as well as the least, dilating or contracting, 
 to suit its inhabitant; and that if, on entering it, 
 you form a wish you do not repent of till you 
 have turned round in it, you will be gratified. 
 No wonder then that its sides, during this much- 
 practised exercise of constancy, should bear a high 
 polish. Its situation in the cliff is too far down to 
 give you any view of the country at its back, for 
 from it you see nothing but the sea in front, the 
 craggy and precipitous rocks that embrace it on 
 each side, and the canopy of heaven. Here was 
 room for meditation even to madness ! Resuming 
 the boat, as I withdrew I took another view of 
 
91 
 
 this curious coast, which at every look discovered 
 new and surprising features, and I much lamented 
 that I was no draughtsman, as there are points 
 here that would furnish the most magnificent 
 sketches. 
 
 I have heard much of your Giant's Causeway, 
 and of Fingal's Cave, and the rocks at StafFa, in 
 Scotland. As independent objects, they may and 
 are allowed to be very majestic; but I can hardly 
 form an idea of any thing more magnificent and 
 romantic than this whole range of rocks for several 
 miles. 
 
 Our poor friend had not been on board an hour 
 before he was obliged to quit the deck and take to 
 his bed, where he continued in one convulsive 
 agony that had no pause, and rendered him in- 
 capable of any sustenance or comfort ; and, what 
 makes me feel the more for him, I have not ex- 
 perienced a single qualm, with my spirits higher, 
 and my appetite keener than ever. 
 
 I heartily wish we were got to our place of des- 
 tination, as I dread the bursting of a blood-vessel, 
 his fits being so violent, and succeeding each other 
 in such rapid succession; but, owing to the 
 wind shifting, we shall be obliged to lie-to all 
 night, and cannot possibly, from the appearance 
 of things now, get to the end of our voyage be- 
 fore morning. I write thus far by daylight, and 
 on deck ; but having nothing to induce me longer 
 to remain there, I hasten to get below, and I per- 
 haps may recur to my pen before morning, to give 
 
you some account of my lucubrations, for I have 
 no tendency to sleep. 
 
 Three o'CIock in the Morning. 
 I had no sooner got under hatches than I was 
 joined by the Captain, in whom I found a man 
 who had seen a great deal of the world, filled a 
 variety of situations, and, for a man of his rank 
 and quality, not ill-bred or ill-informed. I took 
 pains to induce him to be communicative, by 
 showing no reserve or distance on my part. I had 
 just put my flute together, which perceiving, he 
 observed — " I find, Sir, you are musical ; I am a 
 little so too," added he, " and I scrape the violin 
 sometimes. " Knowing* how charmed wifrfo music 
 our friend always is, I thought, if any thing would 
 divert his mind, that music would be most likely 
 to do it; so, pressing the Captain to produce his 
 violin, which he managed above mediocrity, play- 
 ing by ear and notes, we had several pretty duets; but 
 perceiving, that, instead of mitigating our friend's 
 misery, it served rather to increase it, we abruptly 
 put an end to our concert, and fell into conversa- 
 tion. I soon discovered that my companion had a 
 divided nationality, being equally related to Wales 
 and Ireland, his father being a Welshman, and his 
 mother an Irish woman, so that it was doubtful 
 to w r hich of the two countries his bias most in- 
 clined. His cabin was lined witbi Irish oak, which 
 he said was an antidote to bugs, and probably to 
 other vermin. I recollect a line in a poem, called 
 the Grotto, by Green, that glances at this pro- 
 perty in wood the growth of Ireland : 
 
 2. 
 
OS 
 
 ♦ As spiders Irish wainscot flee." 
 
 I- what we hear of Irish air and Irish earth, as 
 well as Irish oak, true to the extent it is told us, 
 that no venomous, or even very noxious, animals 
 can live there; that you have no moles; and that 
 the soil and compost, brought over to other coun- 
 tries by way of ballast, and thrown over land 
 much infested by moles, has been known for years 
 to rid the ground so manured of that destructive 
 little miner, till its effect was fairly worn out? 
 
 One would suppose that such a notion could 
 never have obtained so generally and so early with- 
 out good evidence to justify it, for I recollect 
 making an extract the other day from a very an- 
 cient writer, one Brunetto Latbii, who was at the 
 court of Henry the Third, from his brother-in- 
 law, the Earl of Provence, and during his stay 
 wrote short notes of England, Scotland, and I re- 
 el, in the wretched French of that day. Speak- 
 ing of Ireland, he says, 
 
 " Et saehiez que la plus grant partie de toutes les ylles, et 
 especiament en Irlande, na nul serpent et porce dient Ji pai^ant 
 que la ou Ton portait des pierres ou de la terre d'Irlande nul ser- 
 pent ne poroit de morer." 
 
 So that what is now commonly reported, and by 
 manv firmly believed, was current in those 
 •3, 
 The wind began now to indicate an approaching 
 s.toiui, when the Captain, as if roused from a 
 trance, suddenly exclaimed — u I don't like this : I 
 
94 
 
 wish we were well over the Channel, for I have 
 unfortunately left my child's caul at home." In 
 looking over the curious manuscript miscellany, our 
 friend referred to as having purchased at an auc- 
 tion in Carmarthen, I was puzzled to understand 
 something that is put in the mouth of Sir Walter 
 Raleigh relative to a child's caul I therefore 
 asked the Captain what it was : who told me, his 
 apothecary informed him that it was an ihteg— * 
 teg — tegument, ay, that was the word, that some 
 children, but very rarely, were born with round 
 their heads, and that a person carrying one of such 
 coverings about him would never be drowned. 
 His, by its pedigree annexed, might have formerly 
 belonged to Sir Walter Raleigh, for he could trace 
 it to his great-grandfather, through his father and 
 grandfather, who had all been mariners. He said, 
 about twenty-five or thirty years ago, they were 
 advertised for daily, and great prices, even as high 
 as fifty pounds, given for them : but that since an 
 ingenious fellow in Wrapping had found means to 
 counterfeit them so exactly, and they had been of 
 course found defective in the virtue they are re* 
 puted to possess, there is not the same demand for 
 them. There can be no reliance, therefore, added 
 he, but on an old one, whose pedigree is as well 
 authenticated as mine. 
 
 What a wonderful nation ours is for factitious 
 and other counterfeits, not outdone by any unless 
 it be the Chinese, from the Birmingham coiner to 
 the imitator of the pellicle called a child's caul! 
 I was told that Sir Joseph Banks, in one of his 
 
95 
 
 desultory morning rambles through a narrow alley 
 in the regions of Field Lane, heard a violent 
 knocking in a cellar, into which stooping to look, 
 and seeing it almost filled up and darkened with 
 something of monstrous bulk, he was induced to 
 ask the man who was at work, what he was 
 about ; who replied, he was repairing an elephant, 
 which was totally artificial, and had been exhi- 
 bited for years as the real produce of Africa. 
 
 My Captain, pleased with my affability, and 
 perceiving me no way disposed to retire, after 
 giving some orders about securing the hatches, 
 reefing, and other preparations to meet the grow- 
 ing storm, charged his pipe anew. I, in my turn, 
 producing my cold tongue, pickled oysters, and 
 bottled porter, part of our sea stock, pressed him 
 to partake; and thus new life was given to our 
 conversation, which we indulged in with less re- 
 straint, as our friend's groans did not reach my 
 ear so often, whereby I judged that he was fallen 
 into a doze. 
 
 Having finished our repast, and the Captain 
 having fired his tube, he gave me, between whiff 
 and whiff, the principal adventures of his life. 
 He said he was at the memorable battle of Abou- 
 kir, and served on board the Goliath, Captain 
 Foley, to whose judgment and intrepidity, under 
 Heaven, that signal victory might justly be ascribed; 
 he never should forget the gallant commander, with 
 that determined bravery and coolness so peculiar 
 to him, issuing his orders to lay him so close to 
 the enemy, that we might singe their beaids if 
 
96 
 
 they had any. What he performed so nobly was 
 thought by most in the fleet to be impracticable, 
 and must have been so to any one that was not a 
 whisker-singer like himself; but he reasoned 
 deeper, and succeeded. 
 
 It seems, he had likewise been one of Captain 
 Fellowes's crew, so miraculously preserved, when, 
 in consequence of falling foul of an island of ice, 
 their ship was abandoned, and they had taken to 
 their long-boat. I had read the pamphlet that was 
 published, giving a very interesting account of 
 that most providential deliverance; but how was 
 it heightened by his more detailed narrative, and 
 from the mouth of one of the sufferers ! The Cap- 
 tain's wife, a very delicate, and till then a sickly, 
 lady, was of the number, of whose conduct, under 
 such trying circumstances, he spoke in terms of 
 enthusiastic admiration; and, said he, it was vi- 
 sibly blessed, for afterwards her health improved, 
 and she became the happy mother of children. 
 He told me, they had two Frenchmen on board, 
 which gave him an instructive opportunity of 
 comparing the behaviour of men without religion, 
 and that of Christians in similar situations. The 
 want of faith and dread of death presented, to be 
 sure, in its most horrid shape, made the Frenchmen 
 outrageous and frantic, insomuch that one abso- 
 lutely jumped overboard, and the other was obliged 
 to be lashed to the bottom of the boat ; whereas 
 not a murmur escaped the lips of our British 
 sailors, whose characteristic light-heartedness was 
 then lost in seasonable reflection ; but how could 
 
97 
 
 they behave otherwise, with such an example of 
 patience, fortitude, and resignation, in a woman. 
 But from the first I was persuaded we should not 
 be lost, for I had my caul about me. I was for 
 two years a waterman on the Thames, and by 
 shooting London Bridge was once upset and nearly 
 drowned. I was taken up for dead, and every 
 method recommended by the Humane Society tried 
 in vain; but a Malay sailor happening to be pre- 
 sent, ran to the fire of the public-house, where I 
 was laid out, and catching hold of a boiling tea- 
 kettle, poured it gradually on my stomach, con- 
 tinuing to do so, to the utter astonishment of all 
 the beholders, till symptoms of life appeared." The 
 Captain was many times afterwards instrumental in 
 the recovery of persons apparently drowned. With 
 him I saw r , for the first time, the medal given by 
 the Humane Society to such as have been aiding 
 in the restoration of a fellow-creature's life ; and I 
 think the design, without exception, the most ele- 
 gant, classical, and impressive, I ever saw. On 
 one side universal Charity is personified by a naked 
 boy, holding a torch in his hand nearly extin- 
 guished, which, with his hand delicately screening 
 it at the same time, lie is endeavourino; to blow in 
 with this legend — " Lateat scintittula forsan" 'than 
 which three words more appropriate could not be 
 picked out in the whole compass of the Latin lan- 
 guage, two dubitatives/and one a diminutive of a 
 diminutive. The reverse bears a civic garland, 
 with tliis legend — kk Pro arc servato" I had 
 heard the medal spoken of before, but nqt too 
 
 ji 
 
38 
 
 highly, and the merit of the design given to a 
 }"oung physician of the name of Watkinson, 
 who has been dead many years. I think there is 
 more real genius often discovered in the happy 
 adaptation of a motto, or in hitting off such a 
 design as I have alluded to, than in the compo- 
 sition of volumes. I was told, that about twenty 
 years ago, before some alteration took place in the 
 row of houses on the terrace facing the great en- 
 trance into Westminster Hall, there was a sun- 
 dial introduced into the front wall of the house, 
 exactly opposite to this seat of justice, with this 
 motto — " Discite jusiitiam mordti" and that the 
 monitory timepiece was attributed to Selden. Here 
 how much is compressed into a small compass, by 
 which lawyers might regulate their consciences as 
 well as watches. Nor am I less struck with the 
 neatness of what is said to have been proposed 
 by the late Dr. Goldsmith as a suitable motto for 
 one of the houses in that notorious passage, King's 
 Place, when Burke and he happened to take that 
 road to the club in St. James's Street: 
 
 " Peccatur et extra." 
 
 The Captain having exhausted his budget and 
 his pipe, retired to rest with the storm, which was 
 now suddenly hushed into a steady breeze, as fa- 
 vourable for our course as it could blow ; a change 
 operating on the Captain's nerves most visibly, 
 as he had not his wonderful preservative about 
 him. I was therefore opportunely left, as I could 
 wish, alone to write: but I find the Captain lias 
 
99 
 
 turned out, and I am invited to join him on deck, 
 to hail the roseate morn, and the sight of the So- 
 mersetshire coast, which we are approximating 
 very fast; a summons that our convulsed friend 
 heard with transport, and is hurrying to obey, 
 being much refreshed by a turbulent sort of sleep 
 he scarce knows he has enjoyed for the last two or 
 three hours : so, as I have preparations to make 
 for getting on shore, I must bid you adieu for the 
 present. 
 
 H.J. 
 
 Minehead, October 27, 1 807. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 With a head that partakes of the fluc- 
 tuation of that element I have just quitted, I sit 
 down to let you know that I am (thank God!) 
 safely landed in the county of Somerset, at Mine- 
 head, a miserable-looking place, as far as I have 
 yet seen ; but had I touched in a nation even of 
 cannibals, I believe I should have felt happy, after 
 what I had suffered at sea, having been out a night 
 and a day, in all which time I had not ten minutes 
 respite from convulsion, the respite of a man on 
 the rack, whose torture is suspended only to en- 
 able him to suffer more. Andrews, in his Anec- 
 dotes, says, " That great man, Seneca, in one of 
 liis Epistles, after pathetically exclaiming, ' Quid 
 ' non potest mihi persuaderi, cui persuasum est lit 
 1 navigarem, confesses, that, during a short passage, 
 
 M 2 
 
100 
 
 shorter than that between Dover and Calais, he 
 actually flung himself headlong into the waves, 
 merely from an inability to support the harassing 
 sensation of sea-sickness;'' a thing, I fear, I should 
 have been tempted to have done, bad I not been 
 safely cabined. So overjoyed was I to find my 
 foot on shore, that I could have kissed it with the 
 eagerness of Ulysses in the Odyssey : 
 
 Nor am I yet free from the effects of my sickness, 
 for every iive minutes I have a qualm that almost 
 oversets me, and makes me lay down my pen. 
 
 My life hitherto, I must gratefully own, has 
 passed without much bodily pain, if you except 
 two slight visits from the gout in one toe only, a 
 disorder in our family that never fails to remind us 
 of the sad inheritance even before we are of age ; 
 yet even in the paroxysm of the fit, such a fit as 
 I have experienced, it was possible to derive some 
 alloy from suffering the mind to be occupied by 
 the recollection of the most delightful moments of 
 life. But sea-sickness shuts a door against a pos- 
 sibility of comfort. In vain did I endeavour to 
 fancy my Eliza, like a cherub, " new lighted on 
 some heaven-kissing hill," and with her angelic 
 presence dispersing the fiends that seemed em- 
 ployed to agonize me. The mind, thoroughly sub- 
 dued by the body, had no will of its own, and 
 reflected no other image than that of helpless un- 
 pitied misery, thrown upon it by its tyrant com- 
 panion of flesh. In vain did the kind oijiciousness 
 
101 
 
 of the sailors set fine beef before me, and pour 
 
 the foaming- porter into the goblet, which at any 
 
 other time would have made my mouth water; 
 
 but 
 
 " Furiarum maxima juxta" y 
 '/ Accubat et dentes prohibet contingere mensas." 
 
 In vain dtd the Captain, with a voice that would 
 not have disgraced a theatre, chant out that noble 
 song, " Blow high, blow low," and Jones touch 
 his flute not inharmoniouslv ; but neither si no-ins: 
 men nor singing women could now have power to 
 charm me. 
 
 I got into the first alehouse that occurred near 
 the pier at which I was landed, and, bad as the 
 room is I am now sitting in, so as it does not 
 ^fluctuate, I fancy myself in a palace. Hence, 
 when I have cleaned myself from the pollution of 
 a sea voyage, I shall, with Jones, happy dog! 
 who was not sick at all, but eating like a cormo- 
 rant, proceed in style, in a post-chaise I have sent 
 for, to the inn of the town, which lies at some 
 distance from the port, to the house of the gentle- 
 man to whom our loquacious Captain, on the other 
 side of the water, gave me a letter of recom- 
 mendation. The house is about live miles off; 
 and the gentleman is no other than the lion. Mr. 
 Fortescue, brother of Lord I'ortescuc, who, bred 
 to the sea, has for some years quitted it. and hen 
 in a most delightful retirement enjoys the " otium 
 cum dignitate." 
 
 I must now for the toilet, as, whilst I was 
 
 writing, Jones has finished his operations, and 
 
 11 :» 
 
102 
 
 left the only glass disengaged for me, which X 
 must hasten to employ, as the chaise sent for will 
 soon be at the door ; so, in hopes that my head 
 and stomach will be more at ease when I write 
 next, I take my leave for the present ; but my 
 heart being ever the same, believe me to be un- 
 alterably, 
 
 Yours, &c« 
 
 Holnicote, October 28, 180?i 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 After an evening passed in all the elegant 
 and unceremonious luxury of high-bred society, 
 consisting of a pleasing mixture of music, literary 
 conversation, and innocent trifling of minds, not 
 ashamed to unbend when there is no sacrifice 
 made to folly or to vice ; I rose with the lark, as 
 buoyant as if I was mounted on his wings. 
 
 You must know, then, that, my credentials 
 from our navy acquaintance were most cordially 
 received by his quondam shipmate. " What ! and is 
 Barely still living?" he exclaimed; " I thought 
 the suffusion of his gnomon, that got him the 
 name of Bay^dij, would have extended to his whole 
 body ere now; but I am glad to hear that he is in 
 existence, and seemingly happy, by his manner 
 of writing: no man deserves happiness more; he 
 was no man's enemy but his own, and was as 
 good a creature as ever cracked a biscuit, and had 
 the heart of a lion ; and yet men who had not 
 half his courage or his worth, gave him the go-by." 
 
103 
 
 We then told him the manner in which our ac- 
 quaintance had commenced, and our desultory ex- 
 cursions in his company, and of his planning. 
 11 Ay, that is so like him." We likewise re- 
 marked the singular circumstance of his not hav- 
 ing a single tooth in his head, and of his gums 
 being so indurated that their loss is not missed : 
 " I am not so much surprised at that," said our 
 host, " for my friend Bardjj took no small pains 
 to get rid of them." 
 
 The ceremony (if that can be called ceremony 
 that involved nothing formal or repelling) of in- 
 troduction over, we had just time to prepare for 
 dinner, the greater part of the work of our toilet 
 having been performed before we stepped into the 
 chaise. 
 
 Dinner was announced and served up in a very 
 elegant manner ; the company were, besides Mr. 
 Mrs. and Miss Fortescue, a gentleman and lady 
 and their daughter, relations of the family ; the 
 gentleman all mildness, good humour, and bene- 
 volence; and his lady with a mind in perfect 
 unison with his, and an angelic face, the fit skow- 
 glass of the precious gem the casket contained. 
 
 Their daughter was a young lady, who, without 
 possessing a very extraordinary share of beauty, 
 had such a countenance and manner as rather ex- 
 cited respect than love at first sight ; but on a 
 longer acquaintance insensibly took full pos- 
 session of the heart; which is ever the case 
 when the beauty is more beholden to the mind 
 than the face. It seems she was on the point of 
 
 ii 4 
 
104 
 
 being married to a young gentleman then abroad, 
 and detained in some part of the northern states. 
 This unwelcome news but lately arrived me- 
 thought gave an air of pensiveness to her. adding 
 much to her charms. She played and sung with 
 great taste, and seemed to give wonderful effect 
 to any air that involved sentiments in the least 
 resembling those she might be presumed to in- 
 dulge under the peculiar circumstances of her si- 
 tuation. If it is pain to be absent from those we 
 love though we know that they are at large and 
 happy, what then must be her feelings who in 
 the near approach of the hymeneal hour learns, 
 that the object of her affections, hastening home 
 on the wings of rapture, has his flight checked 
 by order of an unnatural tyrant, lost to all the 
 finer emotions of the soul, and on whose wanton 
 and merciless fiat his liberty, if not his life, may 
 depend ! 
 
 In the group there was a young man of fashion, 
 who was hurrying to town with the fall of the 
 leaf, who had mixed much with the beau monde, 
 without imbibing its follies, for he had learning* 
 without ostentation or pedantry, and good manners 
 free from monkey tricks, in which high breeding, 
 by their being so generally practised, one would 
 think consists. And last, though not least, in the 
 estimation of such as could relish benevolence 
 without parade, and piety without cant or austerity, 
 we had likewise a clergyman of our party, the 
 rector of the parish, a scholar, a gentleman, and 
 •a Christian-— a rare union, but the benefit of which, 
 5 
 
105 
 
 owing to his meekness, his modesty, and retired 
 habits, is not as widely diffused as it could be 
 wished. Of my host and his lady I have not said 
 much; but if dignity without pride, the greatest 
 affability and good temper, a desire to oblige, and 
 a considerable knowledge of the world, be ingre- 
 dients to form a pleasing character, Mr. Fortescue 
 has the highest claim on admiration, and his lady 
 was formed to make such a man happy. 
 
 Their house is perfectly the cottage without, 
 having a thatched roof; woodbines, jasmines, and 
 roses, clothe the walls, producing the most pleas- 
 ing effect; but within we meet with every fa- 
 shionable accommodation that high life can require, 
 or that taste can suggest ; nor is there a good col- 
 lection of books wanting. The drawing-room is 
 elegantly furnished by the most charming speci- 
 mens of Mrs. Fortescue's pencil. In her life there 
 is no waste of time, which happily unites the do- 
 mestic with the more fashionable accomplishments. 
 Such is her arrangement, that every department 
 in her family feels it, and she superintends herself 
 the instruction of the young ladies, her daughters, 
 who have all the retiring delicacy that becomes 
 their years, and might be expected from an edu- 
 cation under the eye of such a mother. She is 
 likewise the physician of the 'poor of the neigh- 
 bourhood ; nor, whilst health is restored to the 
 disordered body, is the physician of the soul un- 
 employed, for the worthy rector of Selworthy is 
 unwearied in the discharge of his pastoral duties, 
 
106 
 
 ever solicitous to discover if his wretched pa* 
 rishioilers should want spiritual comfort. 
 
 Of such a household I have now the inexpre*^ 
 sibie happiness of making one ; and every thing id 
 done that politeness and genuine hospitality can 
 dictate to induce me to forget that I am a stranger. 
 Jones, who I told you sings well, and touches the 
 flute with no ordinary skill, has gained great ap- 
 plause by singing some of the Welsh airs to Welsh 
 words, which, through his organs, have the soft- 
 ness of Italian ; and has every evening the honour 
 of accompanying the young lady I just now men- 
 tioned on the piano. He has been equally suc- 
 cessful in two or three English songs of his own 
 composition, adapted to favourite airs, which, in 
 the course of my correspondence, when I feel a 
 dearth of matter, I may treat you with. 
 
 To-morrow I sally out to explore this curious 
 and very beautiful coast, and in search of more 
 genealogical knowledge, if I can be so fortunate 
 as to pick it up any where. At the same time 
 Jones is in hopes of adding to his botanical know- 
 ledge, and is preparing his apparatus accordingly. 
 He is very deeply conversant with botany, and 
 used to correspond with Withering', and such is 
 the progress he has made in what he calls the 
 cryptogamial tribe, that he means to publish a little 
 treatise on fungi and mosses, that I am told has 
 wonderful merit, is highly spoken of by amateur 
 botanists, and is likely to throw a new light on 
 this mysterious department of the science. 
 
 My thread is fairly spun out, and I must lie by 
 
107 
 
 till to-morrow, when I hope I shall furnish myself 
 with an ample supply of fresh unwrought mate- 
 rials, that will serve me for some time to work with. 
 
 I am, ever yours, &c. 
 
 Holnicote, October 2Q, 1807. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Early after breakfast, horses having 
 been provided for us, we rode out, attended by the 
 worthy clergyman I have already introduced to 
 you, and visited the church of which he is rector, 
 called Selworthy, first stopping at the glebe-house, 
 about a hundred yards from the church, where we 
 took refreshments. It is an ancient building, but 
 fitted up in a neat modern st}^le, with no small 
 degree of taste. 
 
 The church stands considerably above the level 
 of the vale, and commanding a fine view of it on 
 the south, with a high hill sheltering it from the 
 north. It consists of a nave, chancel, and side- 
 aisles, separated by two rows of elegant, light, 
 cluster pillars; Gothic arches, not very pointed; 
 the roof covered and ceiled with wood, divided 
 into square compartments, each angle of the square 
 ornamented with a sculptured quatrefoil, or shield, 
 bearing some grotesque figures. There is a neat 
 gallery for the singers; and the family of Ilolnicote 
 have their pew elegantly formed out of a lumber- 
 room over the church porch, with a projected 
 opening into the church like a balcony. There js 
 a date round one of the pillars, but no older than 
 
108 
 
 the beginning of the sixteenth century. In the. 
 monumental way there is nothing old enough to 
 interest the antiquary; a few mural marbles, of 
 rather a late date, commemorate the Stainsbys and 
 the Blackfords, former possessors of Holnicote. 
 On the chancel floor there is a brass tablet, curi- 
 ously and quaintly inscribed to one Fleet, a former 
 rector; and another near it, on the last incumbent, 
 sublimely unintelligible; both which, as I know 
 you are a collector of odd epitaphs, and as fond of 
 them as ever old JVeever was, Jones in shorthand 
 has treasured up for you, as well as several other 
 memoranda, that he thinks will prove an acces- 
 sion to your porte-feuille. The church is dignified 
 with an embattled tower, faced with a clock-dial, 
 and furnished with a good ring of bells. In this 
 churchyard, as in every other that I have visited 
 in this neighbourhood, there is a handsome cross. 
 I likewise observed a raised tomb, with an escut- 
 cheon of arms on one end of it, to one Siderjin — 
 Quere, if Siderfin, the law reporter, or any of 
 the same family? There is a tradition, that the 
 present barn of the parsonage had, during the re- 
 building or thorough reparation of the cliurch, 
 been used as a substitute. There is, on the north 
 side, the stone frame of a Gothic window still 
 remaining, and the whole fabric appears so very 
 ancient, that I should rather be inclined to think 
 that the barn had been the original church, as 
 it lies due east and west. 
 
 I cannot avoid remarking the growth of the 
 ivy here, infinitely more luxuriant than I ever saw 
 
109 
 
 it any where else, and so covered with bees sack- 
 ing its bloom, that it appeared as if a swarm had 
 just alighted on it. 
 
 We ascend the hill called, from its direction, 
 North Hill, being the boundary of the vale on that 
 side, through a finely sheltered cxvm or dingle, 
 well calculated for wood, but entirely destitute of 
 any growth above the rank of fern. 
 
 When o«ot to the summit of this rano-e we s;ain 
 a charming view of the Severn sea, the Welsh 
 mountains, and the coast of Monmouthshire and 
 Glamorganshire, on one side; and on the other 
 the beautiful vale in which Holnicotc stands, end- 
 ing at Porlock, and bounded on the south side by 
 the highest ground in the west of England, called 
 Dunkery. The hill we now rode on extends from 
 Minehead to Horshead Point, a name I am bold to 
 give it, and to contend that it is the name it bore 
 originally, though now corrupted ; for it is a rock 
 very similar in form and colour to the skeleton of 
 a horse's head. The ride is exquisitely pleasant, 
 over very fine turf: here and there are circular 
 elevations, which they call beacons ; though, from 
 their being so frequent and so near to each other, 
 it makes strongly against the supposition that 
 they were ever designed for that purpose. 
 
 Near the extremity of the point follow a wind* 
 ing path through a cwm still deeper and narrower 
 than that we ascended through, and pass Lynch, 
 where formerly stood a chapel of ease to Sel- 
 woithy, now exhibiting a ruined shell of very 
 line masonry, with a side window of no mean 
 
no 
 
 tracery; the east 'window being lost by its union 
 with another more modern building. Near every 
 farm-house hereabouts are venerable and pictu- 
 resque walnut-trees, and most of the gate-posts 
 are formed of living trees (a singularity of the most 
 pleasing effect) : myrtles of the most luxuriant 
 growth clothe the walls of every house you pass. 
 
 Hence over a flat opening to Porlock Bay, con- 
 sisting of most fertile land in small inclosures 
 with richly wooded hedge-rows, to the village of 
 Porlock, whose church I had occasion to visit :~ it 
 has a plain square tower, surmounted by a trun- 
 cated spire covered with small shingles in pat- 
 terns. Within the church, under a rich canopy 
 raised beneath one of the arches that divide the nave 
 from the aisle, is a high tomb, bearing two recum- 
 bent figures, a male and female, in white marble :— 
 the knight is in complete armour, with a curious cap 
 over his helmet, and a richly sculptured wreath, 
 adorned with grapes and vine-leaves, indicative, I 
 presume, of some office he might have held under 
 the crown, or of the tenure of his lands ; for if it 
 was meant to characterize a professed bacchanal, 
 it would be such an outrage to all decency as 
 could hardly be charged on any period of the 
 Christian era, to give a vicious pre-eminence 
 in so solemn a place the lasting recard of u Parian 
 stone." The lady's head-dress is equally singular, 
 something in form of a mitre. But I was 
 sorry to see the whole monument, figures and all, 
 scratched and mutilated in every direction ; a dis- 
 grace that peculiarly attaches to our nation, every 
 
Ill 
 
 other in Europe but our own paying a proper 
 xespect to sepulchral, as well as all other relics of 
 antiquity. I am told that the Trajan column at 
 Rome, though standing in an open market-place, 
 uninclosed by rails, or any protection, has not a 
 single scratch on it. The above monument has 
 no inscription or armorial record on any part of 
 it to lead us to an acquaintance with the illustrious 
 dead, save a crest, which seemed to be a lion's 
 head erased, on a wreath affixed to the helmet on 
 which the knight's head rests. 
 
 Collinson, so little dependance is there to be 
 placed on the writers of county histories, who too 
 often see and hear through the organs of others, 
 says, the male effigy is that of a knight templar ; 
 whereas the crusader, which he does not notice, 
 lies under a canopy in the south wall, almost con- 
 cealed by one of the pews. I could obtain no ac- 
 count of the figures within the communion rails, 
 or of a very old tomb with sides rudely ornamented, 
 and an escutcheon of arms much blunted and dis- 
 guised by yellow ochre, which, as well as white- 
 wash, the antiquary or the pedigree-hunter, like 
 myself, have frequent occasion to execrate. 
 
 On the south wall of the chancel was a pomp- 
 ous mural monument, bedizened with painting, 
 gilding, and sculpture, to the memory of Natha- 
 niel Arundel, a former rector, who died A. D. 
 1705; yet, unfortunately for me, productive of 
 nothing I was in search of but the name of 
 Arundel, being very barren in genealogy, and too 
 modern to leave me a hope of its being likely to 
 4 
 
112 
 
 involve any account of the connexion I was de- 
 sirous of substantiating. I am inclined to think, 
 from a suggestion of Jones, who always makes 
 happy hits, that the real name was L'Hirondelle, 
 and that the family coat, bearing six birds very 
 like swallows, was an allusion to it. 
 
 Here I observed what never occurred to me 
 before, that the generality of the modern monu- 
 ments were tablets of wood, neatly ornamented, 
 painted, and gilded. The spout that conducts 
 the water from the leaden gutter separating the 
 aisle from the nave on the south side of the 
 church, is the stone figure of the head of a fish of 
 enormous size, with his mouth open; a pun, as I 
 was informed, on the plumber's name, which w r as 
 Whale. In the churchyard is the largest yew- 
 tree I ever recollect to have seen. 
 
 The situation of Porlock is beautiful and roman- 
 tic, being nearly surrounded, particularly on the 
 south side, by lofty hills, intersected by deep and 
 well-wooded glens, through each of which tumbles 
 some mountain torrent. 
 
 Below the town there is a small pier for vessels 
 fetching coals and lime from Wales. There was 
 here an extensive chase, and a palace, or rather 
 hunting-seat, of one of the Saxon kings. 
 
 In 9 1 8 the Danes invaded this coast, and were 
 routed. In 1059 Harold burnt the town. A 
 small camp of an oval form, in a wood a mile and 
 a half south-west of the church, is supposed to 
 have been thrown up on this occasion, the en- 
 trance being on the land side: warlike instru- 
 
113 
 
 mertts have been dug up here. The inhabitants 
 preserve the memory of those occurrences to thi.s 
 clay, and show the marks of the fire on some of 
 the stones. Algar, son of Leofrick Earl of Mer- 
 cia, owned much land here, whose name is pre- 
 served in Allersford, which should be called Air 
 garsford. There is a mccr of some extent above 
 the beach at Porlock, which perhaps might have 
 given name to the place, the old British name 
 being probably Porthliwch, the port of the lake. 
 This meer is a great decoy for wild fowl. 
 
 Beyond the pier, at the entrance of a richly 
 wooded glen, is a summer residence of Lord King, 
 called Ashley Cottage, niched in the side of a 
 hill overhanging the sea, whose oaks feather 
 down to the water's edge. The walks here wind 
 with great taste, and are enriched with the most 
 luxuriant growth of various sorts of evergreens 
 and deciduous shrubs ; and beyond the extent of 
 the pleasure-grounds that embrace the house, 3 
 most romantic road is carried for a mile or more 
 through the woods to the sequestered little vale 
 of Culbone, in which stands the parish-church 
 and rectory of that name. 
 
 A more perfect seclusion cannot be well ima- 
 gined ; the surrounding hills bcipg so high and so 
 woody as to exclude the rays of th,e sun for the 
 greater part of the day, scarcely felt but when 
 they are vertical, and never seen during the three 
 winter months. I have often remarked, that 
 many names of places in England are half Saxon, 
 and half British; and Jones, who is a most ingc- 
 
 1 
 
114 
 
 nious etymologist, will have Culbone to be such a 
 compound, the name being Cil bourn, the narrow 
 brook, as the vale is watered by a brook of this 
 character. 
 
 In our return across a considerable mountain- 
 stream, called the Hornor; or perhaps more pro- 
 perly by its true original British name, the Hwr- 
 nxvr, or the snorer, from its peculiar sonorousness. 
 The whole of this lovely vale is richly wooded, 
 and the nearer boundaries are charmingly diver- 
 sified. Nothing seems wanting to make it vie 
 with the finest parts of the king'dom but a spirit 
 of planting judiciously, directed to give a -more 
 varied outline to the summits of the remoter high 
 hills that environ it, and thereby Tweak the mo- 
 notonous dumpy form they now bear. 
 
 Holnicote belonged to William de Horne, 
 temp. Edw. I. who held it of the King in ca- 
 pite, by a very odd tenure; by the service of 
 hanging on a forked piece of wood tire red deer 
 that died of the murrain in Exmoor Forest. The 
 office of forester is now held of the Crown by 
 Sir Thomas Ackland, Bart, to whom Holnicote, 
 with a large property round it, and very consi- 
 derable church patronage, belongs; though the 
 young Baronet lives at his noble seat near Exeter, 
 his mother, the present Mrs. Fortescue, chiefly 
 residing at Holnicote, where, at a little distance 
 from the old mansion, which was destroyed by 
 fire, she has erected its successor in the cottage 
 style, to furnish an opportunity for the display of 
 her fine taste. 
 
115 
 
 After the luxury of the table was over, this 
 evening, like the former, was devoted to music 
 and the most interesting conversation; and & 
 sprig of laurel was voted to Jones for the fol- 
 lowing little song. — 
 
 What art thou, Love, whose power, unseen, 
 
 All living creatures own ; 
 Whose shafts, like those of Death, are keen, 
 
 And throw distinction down ? 
 When first I went with my fond swain 
 
 A-maying to the grove, 
 I felt a something seize niy brain ; 
 
 Oh ! say, could this be love ? 
 
 The little birds on every spray 
 
 Display'd their painted wings, 
 Whilst each fond couple seem'd to say 
 
 A thousand rapt'rous things ; 
 All nature answer'd to the fcey ; 
 
 He press*d, in vain I strove; 
 I follow'd till I lost my way : 
 
 Oh ! say, could this be love? 
 
 So delightfully is every moment of our time 
 employed here, that there is no escaping from the 
 fascination of a society so bewitching till the 
 temperate hour of withdrawing to repose dissolves 
 the spell. I therefore do not grudgingly borrow 
 from rf st to pay my arrear of correspondence. 
 
 Yours, &c« 
 
 ia 
 
lib 
 
 Holnicote, October SO, 180/; 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Not having rigidly iimited ourselves te 
 time, so we get to town by Christmas, and having 
 received the most pressing and polite invitation 
 to extend our stay here ; our worthy host will 
 not suffer a morning to pass without giving us 
 some new treat by introducing us to new scenery. 
 The bill of fare for this day has been the pictu- 
 resque and romantic valley of Horner, the heights 
 of Dunkery, the monarch of their mountains, the 
 churches of Stoke Pero and Luckham. Th« val- 
 ley through which the Horner winds is bounded 
 by very high hills, clothed with most magnificent 
 woods ; it is in some parts narrow ; in others ex- 
 panding into large reaches of flat ground, covered 
 with majestic oak, ash, and forest trees of every de- 
 scription, interspersed with the euonymus, holly, 
 white-thorn, and mountain-ash. The ride for the 
 most partis near the margin of the river, which, 
 in all its course (arid we followed it for above a 
 mile through this rich scenery), is one of the 
 finest mountain streams lever saw, broken per- 
 petually by masses of rock obstructing its channel, 
 and forming it into a series of cascades. Every 
 tre.e was a lesson for the pencil. 
 
 After crossing the Horner we begin to ascend 
 the first hill through the wood; and though high, 
 when we gained its summit it bore no proportion 
 to the height of Dunkery mountain, towering 
 
117 
 
 majestically above it. From our first landing- 
 place we saw a small rectorial church in a most 
 lonely situation, called Stoke Pero, in the patron- 
 age of Sir Thomas Ackland; from the apparent 
 scantiness of the population of that district, I 
 conceive the congregation to be very small, the 
 whole parish consisting only of two or three 
 farms, and an uninhabited tract of heath, border- 
 ing on Exmoor Forest. 
 
 Exmoor is an immense tract of waste, inhabited 
 only by a small breed of horses and wild deer ; 
 Sir Thomas Ackland is ranger of it under the Crown. 
 In this neighbourhood are kept the only stag- 
 hounds in the kingdom except those of His Ma- 
 jesty. 
 
 Hence we keep ascending gradually, through 
 heath, in many places tending to bog; and here 
 I saw for the first time anv of the black game. 
 When we had gained the lower part of Dunkery 
 ridge, for it keeps rising towards the east, we 
 found ourselves in the midst of three tumuli of 
 stones, half of each of which seems to have been 
 carried away to make hedges on some farms to 
 the south-east of the ridge ; but so happily are 
 they plundered, that their probable sepulchral 
 contents may not have been disturbed. Thev at 
 present mark the boundary of Sir Thomas Ack^ 
 laud's and Sir Philip Hale's manors. Hence 
 along the ridge eastward, which soon expands 
 into a considerable flat, covered with numerous 
 stacks of turf, pared off the surface of the soil 
 
 i S 
 
m 
 
 for fuel, being thickly interwoven with roots of 
 heath. 
 
 We now reached the highest point of the moun- 
 tain called Dunkery Beacon, on which stand four 
 or five most stupendous cairns, in all appearance 
 of vast antiquity, and never materially disturbed. 
 They are by the inhabitants here considered to 
 have been beacons ; — but why so many in one 
 spot, and of an equal height ? That one of them, 
 long subsequent to their original formation, at 
 different periods might have been put to that use, 
 is highly probable ; but to think that they were 
 at first designed for that purpose, were as absurd 
 as it is in general found to be erroneous. As far as 
 one of those primitive telegraph beacons goes, I 
 am willing to allow our ancestors a perfect know- 
 ledge of turning it to account; but to suppose 
 they were capable of ringing endless changes on 
 them by an increase or diminution of their num- 
 ber, would, I think, be to give them credit for a 
 greater skill in the science of signals than they 
 justly can be entitled to. 
 
 From this eminence the prospect by sea and 
 land is of great extent, and finely contrasted ; on 
 one side highly cultivated vallies and the ocean ; 
 on the other, an immeasurable tract of heath, part 
 of Exmoor Forest, and on whose distant ridges 
 with the horizon, we observe several large 
 tumuli, and on which Mr. Collinson, the only, or,, 
 at any rate, the latest historian of this county, 
 with as much pathos as knowledge of his subject 
 (appearing to be very deficient in both), makes^ 
 
119 
 
 the following remark : " Here on this desolated 
 spot stand a number of simple sepulchres (pretty 
 alliteration) of departed souls (rather bodies), 
 whether of warriors, priests, or kings, it matters 
 not (true barrow-hunting antiquaries would not, 
 I believe, be of the same opinion), whose memo- 
 ries have perished with their mouldering urns" 
 (but their urns have not perished, but are found 
 entire ; so much Mr. Collinson knows of the mat- 
 ter). He then concludes with a sentiment not 
 unworthy a Young or a Hervey : " A morsel of 
 earth now damps in silence the eclat of noisy 
 warriors, and the green turf serves as a sufficient 
 shroud for kings !" — Very sublime, very moving, 
 this ! 
 
 The day now beginning to lower, and mizzling 
 clouds involving us, we did not extend our ride 
 to another hill still more eastward, whose summit 
 was marked by a group of cairns, but turned 
 short down the side of Dunkery to Sweet-tree 
 valley, terminating in the Vale of Horner. This 
 cwm is prettily sprinkled with wood, and watered 
 by a romantic mountain-stream. By the Homel- 
 and this river a considerable knoll is encircled and 
 almost insulated, on which if a castellated man- 
 sion was built, and a park inclosed, it would 
 make as noble a residence as can be imagined, 
 when the grandeur of the mountain at its back, 
 the romantic course of the river surrounding it, 
 and the magnificence of the woods, with the 
 whole concomitant scenery, are taken into the 
 account, 
 
 I 4 
 
12*0 
 
 The mist having' left us, in our descent towards 
 Holnicote, just above Luccomb, we were much 
 struck with its church and village, filling a most 
 curious circular hollow ; and the smoke, it being 
 near the general hour of dinner, had a very pic- 
 turesque effect, wreathing from every house, the 
 air being remarkably still. We stopped to see the 
 church, which is a handsome Gothic structure, 
 consisting of a nave, chancel, and south aisle, se- 
 parated by a row of columns, their capitals orna- 
 mented with flowers and fruits. It has a high 
 embattled tower, clock, and a ring of bells. It has 
 k cross in the churchyard, as all the other churches 
 here have. There are some remains of fine painted 
 glass in the windows, and over the font was sus- 
 pended a linen veil, or covering, in the shape of 
 an extinguisher, a peculiarity I never before ob- 
 served in any other church. The monumental re- 
 cords were but few, which I minutely examined* 
 but, alas ! the names of Arundel and Rogers were 
 no where to be found, or any other name that was 
 Hkely to add a link to the chain I wanted to eke 
 out. The church is a rectory, and in the gift of 
 Sir Thomas Ackland, whose church-patronage is 
 very extensive. 
 
 I could not help observing a remarkable pecu- 
 liarity in most of the houses of the lower class in 
 this country : the chimney is always an excres- 
 cence in the front side of the house, and generally 
 round, and not far from the door; from a suppo- 
 sition, I presume, that by these means the draught 
 of air from the door is avoided, and the chimney- 
 
121 
 
 corner is rendered more snug. The same custom 
 I noted in that district of Pembrokeshire called 
 Roos, perhaps originating with the same people, 
 the Flemings, who were likewise settled on the 
 Somersetshire and Devonshire coasts prior to their 
 coming into Wales. 
 
 If a traveller has an ear, it cannot escape his 
 observation that the driver of the plough in these 
 parts is incessantly chaunting out the terms by 
 which he incites the beasts drawing it, in a mono- 
 tonous kind of tone; and this, when many ploughs 
 are out, fills the whole compass with what I think 
 a most melancholy sound. They think that rt 
 cheers the cattle, and that they work the better 
 in consequence. 
 
 After the luxury of the table at Holnicotc, our 
 evening furnished the most delightful mental en- 
 tertainment; and as far as music, vocal and instru- 
 mental, could advance it, no way inferior to those 
 which had preceded it since we had been num- 
 bered among the guests. Jones, as usual, oili- 
 ciated as priest of Apollo, and bore off a fiesh 
 sprig of laurel to enrich his garland. In my next 
 perhaps 1 may treat you with the little impromptu 
 which has raised him very hio-h in the estimation 
 of those who were witness to the almost 'unprovl- 
 satoreness of his composition, and the taste with 
 which he manages his vocal powers, particularly 
 when his own sentiments are the subject of the air. 
 
 He likewise gave us another specimen of Welsh 
 poetry, set to music by himself] which from his 
 mouth is so soft and melodious, that my ear prefers 
 
122 
 
 it to Italian, it being quite as mellifluous, with 
 more grandeur ; and, if I may be allowed the ex- 
 pression, more originality of sound, as it is not, 
 like the principal European living languages, the 
 echo of those we call dead. Its words are all its 
 own, perfect and appropriate, ever the same, and 
 Heeding no change. Jones, though in himself 
 possessed of powers fully equal to the praise or 
 vindication of his native language when he enters 
 the lists as its champion, yet is always furnished 
 with auxiliar arguments for his purpose, having 
 often referred me to a panegyric from the pen of 
 an author who was no Welshman, and therefore- 
 not to be suspected of prejudice or partiality — ■ 
 old Fuller, who, on this, as on all other subjects, 
 though quaintly, expresses himself with great 
 force ; and as I have been fortunate enough to 
 meet with the book in the library of this house, it 
 being one that is not likely to have fallen within 
 the course of your reading, I send you the quo- 
 tation, and hope you will be as much pleased 
 with it as 1 was. 
 
 " First, their language is native ; it was one of 
 those that departed from Babel, and herein it re- 
 lates to God, as the more immediate author there- 
 of; whereas most languages in Europe owe their 
 beginning to human depravings of some original 
 language : thus the Italian, Spanish, and French, 
 are daughters or nieces to the Latin, a regenerated 
 race from the corruption thereof. Secondly, un- 
 mixed: for though it hath some few foreign 
 words, and useth them sometimes, yet she rather 
 
1*3 
 
 accepteth them out of state, than borroweth them 
 out of need, as having, besides those, other words 
 of her own to express the same things. Yea, the 
 Romans were so far from making the Britons to 
 do, that they could not make them to apeak as 
 they would have them ; their very language never 
 had a perfect conquest in this island. Thirdly, 
 unaltered : other tongues are daily disguised with 
 foreign words, so that in a century of years they 
 grow strangers to themselves, as now an English- 
 man needs an interpreter to understand Chaucer's 
 English. But the British continues so constant to 
 itself, that the poems and prophecies of old Ta- 
 liessin, who lived above one thousand years since, 
 are at this day intelligible in that tongue. Lastly, 
 durable : which had its beginning* at the confu- 
 sion of tongues, and is likely not to have its end- 
 ing till the dissolution of the world. Some, in- 
 deed, inveigh against it as being hard to be pro- 
 nounced, having a conflux of consonants*, and 
 
 * As to the supposed redundancy and confluence of conso- 
 nants, thereby impeaching the harmony of the language, Jones 
 has furnished me with a note out of a paper by Mr. W. Owen, 
 the author of the Welsh Dictionary, wherein he says, in answer 
 to a question he puts, " Is the Welsh an harmonious language ? 
 This is a question which strangers have habitually decided in the 
 negative j adding likewise, that it is overloaded with consonants. 
 With a view to ascertain the truth of this objection, I endea- 
 voured to calculate the proportion of vowels and consonants in 
 various languages j the result with regard to the Welsh was, that, 
 upon an average, for one hundred consonants it had a like num- 
 ber of vowels, fa. Greek the proportion is ninety-five vowels to 
 a hundred consonants. In regard to the harmony of the Welsh 
 
at 
 
 some of them double sounded ; yea, whereas the 
 mouth is the place wherein the office of speech is 
 generally kept, the British words must be uttered 
 through the throat ; but this rather argueth the 
 antiquity thereof, herein running parallel with the 
 Hebrew (the common tongue of the old world), 
 to which it hath much affinity, in joining of words 
 with affixes, and many other correspondencies. 
 Some also cavil, that it grates and tortures the ears 
 of hearers with the harshness thereof; .whereas, 
 indeed, it is only unpleasant to such as are igno- 
 rant of it; and thus every tongue seems stam- 
 mering which is not understood ; yea, Greek itself 
 is barbarism to barbarians. Besides, what is nick- 
 named harshness therein, maketh it indeed more 
 full, stately, and masculine. But such is the epi- 
 curism of modern times to addulce all words to 
 the ear, that, (as in the French) the} 7 melt out in 
 the pronouncing many essential letters, taking out- 
 all the bones to make them bend the better in 
 speaking; and such hypocrites in their words 
 speak them not truly in their native strength, as 
 the plain-dealing British do, which pronounce 
 every letter therein, more manly if less melodious. 
 Lastly, some condemn it, unjustly, as a worthless 
 tongue, because leading to no matter of moment; 
 and who will care to carry about that key which 
 
 tongue, a stranger to its orthography cannot judge from books j 
 but if I were to select such phrases as are written in character* 
 familiar to him, it would be difficult to draw expressions equally 
 smooth from other languages-." 
 
125 
 
 can unlock no treasure? But this is false, that 
 tongue affording monuments of antiquity, some 
 being left, though many be lost, and more had 
 been extant but for want of diligence in seeking* 
 and carefulness in preserving them *." 
 
 Should you happen not to have the same relish 
 for my old friend Fuller's conceits as I have, I 
 fear you will not thank me for this long quotation, 
 with which I shall leave you, as the solemn tongue 
 of time has uttered One, and opened another day 
 to my existence, though Sleep, Death's counter- 
 feit, challenges as his right the earlier hours of it, 
 while nature seconds the claim. 
 
 Yours, Sec. 
 
 HoJnicote, October 3 i, 1S10. 
 AIY PEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I steal from sleep an hour to recount 
 the business of this day, which our worthy en- 
 tertainer, as the weather was favourable, would 
 not surfer us to lose, especially as he was proud of 
 •an opportunity of showing the beauties of a 
 country to persons who, I trust, were discovered 
 not to be totally insensible to them. Our course 
 was to Minehead and Dunster. The town of 
 Alinehead consists of three parts triangularly 
 placed : the upper and principal portion, including 
 the church, occupies the slope of a high hill to 
 
 * Fuller's Church HisLory, page Q5. 
 
m 
 
 the east; the middle half a mile to the south-east 
 fVom the beach ; and the lower, or quay town, by 
 the sea-side, under shelter of rising ground. It 
 was formerly a place of great trade, but now 
 much on the decline, as may be found by a com* 
 parative survey of 1705 and the few last years. 
 The town was incorporated temp. Queen Eliza- 
 beth, and called in the charter Man heve, perhaps 
 Mohun heve, from Sir William de Mvhun, who 
 had great possessions here ; or, as Jones suggested 
 in the exuberance of his ludicrous wit, rather 
 3 fan heave, from its formerly dealing so much in 
 malt, the produce of which, strong ale, may be 
 said often to heave a man off his legs ; and the 
 more to confirm the etymology, the little village 
 called now Bossington, not a great way off, was, 
 from the influence of the same commodity, ex- 
 tending thus far, no other than Boqzing town. In 
 such playful etymological sallies does my inge- 
 nious companion now and then indulge, to excite 
 the innocent laugh, and prevent monotony. 
 
 The town thus scattered and divide^ has $ 
 shabby appearance, a considerable part being i& 
 ruins since the fire that destroyed it some yeari 
 ago. The church, placed on an eminence, is a 
 handsome building, with a lofty tower : the as- 
 cent to it is by a pitched pavement ; the cemetery 
 is large, and full of graves ; so that if the popu- 
 lation is great, the mortality keeps pace with it 
 On one side of the steeple, in a niche just under 
 the clock^dial, is the figure of the saint it was 
 dedicated to, or the king or great man wha 
 
\<27 
 
 founded it, holding a crucifix before him, which 
 they have made to look most hideous, by painting 
 the face and eyes to produce this Gorgon effect. 
 The church consists of a nave and side-aisle, se- 
 parated by a row of pillars, which have left their 
 perpendicular long ago, and are bolstered up 
 within and without. The chancel is divided from 
 the body of the church by a most elegant rood- 
 loft of curious workmanship, in the north corner 
 of which stands a fine statue of Queen Anne, in 
 white marble, of admirable sculpture, and in high 
 preservation, given by Sir Jacob Banks, member 
 for the town in 1719, who had represented it for 
 sixteen years. On the same skle, under what was 
 ©nee a superb canopy of stone, but with its rich 
 tracery flattened and disfigured by whitewash, 
 the antiquary's bane, is shown the effigy of Brac- 
 ton, the great father of our law; but from his 
 dress, and his having the tonsure and a chalice in 
 his hand, I should rather set him down for a priest 
 than a judge. 
 
 About the beginning of last century a great 
 herring fishery was carried on here ; but that mi- 
 gratory fish had for many years almost deserted 
 the coast, but has revisited it this year, yet not 
 in great abundance. We have been treated with 
 them every day, and yet we are not tired of 
 them. They had likewise a great trade to Ireland. 
 Mr. Collinson talks of a limpet from which is ex- 
 tracted a curious dye ; he should have said a peri- 
 winkle; but this is a common one on the Welsh 
 coast, and I am told by Jones that it is only the 
 white kind has the vein which supplies the fluid 
 
1-28- 
 
 giving a colour that rivals the Tyrian purple, so 
 much extolled hy the ancients, and probably pro- 
 duced from the shell here referred to. 
 
 Hence to Dunster, a corruption of Dun, 
 signifying a ridge of hills stretching length- 
 ways on the coast ; and Torr, a fortified tower- 
 It was given to Sir William de Mohun, who fame 
 over with the Conqueror, and seating himself at 
 Dunster, formed a town, strengthened it with a 
 castle, and founded a priory of Benedictines to the 
 north-west of his residence, where Jie lies buried. 
 A Lady Mohun, in the fiftieth year of Edward 
 III. sold the estate to a Lady Elizabeth Lutterrell, 
 in which family it has continued ever since. The 
 castle is a magnificent building at the south ex- 
 tremity of the principal street of the town, and 
 commands a most charming view. The famous 
 Prynne was here imprisoned. A small but rapid 
 stream from Dunkery passing to the south of the 
 town, turns in its short course six grist-mills, one 
 oil, and two fulling mills. The church is a noble 
 Gothie structure, of the age of Henry VII. : the 
 tower is in the centre of the building; that part 
 to the east of it was the old priory church, but is 
 now much dilapidated and neglected, though con- 
 taining many magnificent monumental records of 
 tire Mohun and Lutterell families : the west part 
 only is used for divine service. The tower -is 
 ninety feet high, and is furnished with a clock 
 and chimes. 
 
 Clouds beginning to condense and threaten 
 ; v ome sudden fallj induced us to hurry homeward* 
 
129 
 
 and abridge our excursion. Return by Bratton or 
 Bracton, a hamlet which gave name to the family, 
 whence sprung Henry de Bracton, the great Eng^ 
 lish lawyer, temp. Hen. III. and who, I conceive, 
 for the reasons already assigned, is erroneously said 
 to be represented by the effigy shown for him in 
 Minehead church. The old manor-house is large, 
 and appears to be of great antiquity. It now be- 
 longs to Lord Kino;. I could have wished to have 
 had more time to explore the supposed birth-placa 
 of the venerable Bracton, and certainly should 
 have taken it, had not a sharp sleet, becoming 
 more fleecy every moment, and threatening to end 
 in a violent fall of snow, accompanied by a high 
 wind, literally driven us home, where we had been- 
 -scarcely housed before the landscape was involved, 
 and the whole face of the country covered with a 
 white sheet, and gave double zest to our in-door 
 amusements, for which repeated gratification 
 seemed to increase our relish. I must now per- 
 form the promise I made you in my last, by giving 
 Jones's song, which, inadvertently, he had writ- 
 ten on a scrap of paper, having on the other side 
 a few beautiful lines, which, but for this accident, 
 might, perhaps, have perished unknown, though 
 I flatter myself you will deem them richly worthy 
 of notice, and thank me for tacking them on as a 
 rider. 
 
130 
 
 SONG. 
 
 O Darron, to say if I love you or no, 
 
 Why press me, and kindle my cheek? 
 There are those mute tell-tales, you very well know, 
 
 Of whom you may find what you seek. 
 
 Alas ! but I fear they have told what 's to tell, 
 And all further concealment were vain > 
 
 In a language my Damon interprets too well. 
 Which speech cannot better explain. 
 
 Yes I yes ! I 'm betray'd — conscious blushes will rise, 
 
 And the mask that I wore I resign j 
 For now I with transport behold in your eyes 
 
 What they have collected from mine ! 
 
 ON A FLY SEEN IN THE DEPTH OF WINTER TO SETTLE 
 ON A LADY'S CHEEK. 
 
 When heat from Winter's icy chains 
 
 Had set at large a captive fly, 
 Kis wing no sooner he regains, 
 
 Than he alights near Caelia's eye. 
 
 That cheek has blushes which excel 
 
 Whatever Flora can disclose : 
 Child of the Summer ! thou mightst well 
 
 Mistake it for the damask-rose. 
 
 Yet stay not there, rash insect, shun 
 
 That torrid zone ere 'tis too late ; 
 For in that eye there flames a sun, 
 
 Which to approach is instant fate I 
 
 But if on this delicious coast 
 
 It is thy doom to die by fire, 
 Th' Arabian phoenix cannot boast 
 
 'Midst sweets more fragrant to expire. 
 
131 
 
 Holnicote, November 1, ISO?, 
 AiV DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 In consequence of our having expressed 
 a wish to explore the contents of the lofty stone 
 cairns on the height of Dunkery, and the hum- 
 bler sodded tumuli on the opposite ridge above 
 Selworthy; our polite host, desirous of affording 
 us every gratification in his power, gave orders 
 for three or four pioneers to be ready in attend- 
 ance the following morning; and though the 
 morning opened with " sharp sleet of arrowy 
 shower," we were not deterred from carrying our 
 plans into execution, such full possession had the 
 antiquarian mania taken of us. 
 
 Our first essay was on the Selworthy ridge of 
 hills, where, after penetrating into two or three of 
 those venerable mounds, we failed to discover any 
 thing besides a little charcoal, generally an infal- 
 lible criterion to induce us to think them sepul- 
 chral; though, probably, we might not have fallen 
 on the exact spot where the urns, or the inter- 
 ment, of whatever kind it might be, was depo- 
 sited, being all ignorant of the science of barrow- 
 opening, which, I am told, is, in Wiltshire, almost 
 reduced to a system. 
 
 This work having proved unsuccessful, and 
 being informed by a countryman, a by-stander, 
 whom curiosity had brought to the spot, that a 
 •little way off, at the foot of the mountain, stretch- 
 ing down to the sea, before we come to Miuehead, 
 
152 
 
 there were, close on the shore, ruins of an, 
 ancient building called Burgundy Chapel; like 
 professed antiquaries, we caught eagerly at this 
 information, and begged our peasant Cicerone 
 to conduct us to the place, which he engaged to 
 do. Our road for a few miles lay along the sum- 
 mit of the ridge, but afterwards took a direction 
 to the left, through holiows w'hose declivities 
 would hardly admit of our proceeding. However, 
 we followed our guide as long as he seemed to en- 
 tertain any hopes of discovering the object of our 
 pursuit; and in doing this we suddenly got into 
 a narrow gulley or covered way, winding down 
 towards one of the little accessible coves on the 
 coast, where probably the Scandinavian pirates 
 might have landed, and excavated this road to get 
 tip into the country unperceived. Near a bend 
 which it takes in its course, on a spot more level 
 than is the general character of the surrounding 
 ground, and curiously sheltered, near water, we 
 observed evident traces of early habitations; and 
 the place is distinguished by the appellation of The 
 Yards. 
 
 After floundering for a full hour, through va- 
 rious difficulties, our conductor fairly gave in, 
 saying, that, though he was certain the place was 
 near, he had lost his land-marks most unaccount- 
 ably ; and so Burgundy Chapel remains yet to be 
 found. I fear the antiquary is often liable to be 
 thus duped ! 
 
 In our new characters w r e made but a sorry 
 *%ure, an <l we h ac * f rom tm V pur first -essay, no 
 
133 
 
 great encouragement to prosecute our researches ; 
 yet, notwithstanding*, we turned our eyes with 
 fresh delight towards the gigantic monuments that 
 give an awful dignity to the opposite mountain, 
 which, though the advanced hour of that day put 
 it out of our power to visit, we kept it as a bonne 
 douche for the next, our liberal entertainer pro- 
 mising to add to the number of the pioneers in 
 proportion to the increasing magnitude of the 
 projected labour. 
 
 After some driving showers of sleet aud snow, 
 the day brightened, and left tine horizon perfectly 
 clear; so that on our return we had a most exten- 
 sive and delightful view of the mountains of Wales, 
 and its line of rocky coast across the channel, on 
 the one hand, and the richly diversified scenery 
 of the vale of Porlock just under us on the other, 
 bounded by Dunkery, with its head in the clouds- 
 
 We took an earlier dinner than usual at the 
 worthy rector's of Sel worthy, where we passed a 
 few truly Attic hours in his parsonage-house, that 
 most happily unites elegance and comfort, giving, 
 by a discussion of a variety of interesting sub- 
 jects, a zest to our wine. 
 
 From this " feast of reason and the flow of 
 soul/' we adjourned to llolnicote, and the later 
 hours of the evening flew away on wings of rap- 
 ture, leaving the mind under the influence of a 
 sort of enchantment that triumpns over sleep it- 
 self, aud keeps us awake with the recollection of 
 pleasures, the result of social sensibilities, wit, 
 beauty, and music; an enchantment that, were il 
 
 K 3 
 
134 
 
 possible, would almost make me forget my Eliza ; 
 tut her image, ever present, supplies a spell that 
 makes every other charm powerless ; — a thousand 
 stars may sparkle and blaze; but hers, with unri- 
 valled lustre, will ever maintain the ascendancy. — 
 But, Charles, with thy heart cased, as it might 
 seem, in tenfold adamant, though the growth of 
 a climate professedly under the predominance of 
 the loveliest planet, Venus, I know thou wilt 
 laugh at me for this weakness, in the avowal of a 
 passion thou hast either never felt, or affectest to 
 stifle. If such apathy be wisdom, be philosophy, 
 I glory in being ranked among Nature's fools. In 
 this alone I suspect thee a hypocrite : can stoic 
 indifference dwell in such a mind as thine, than 
 which a warmer, a manlier, never informed a 
 human breast, with thoughts that glow, that burn, 
 and with feelings as quick of sense as that which 
 lives along the spider's line ! 
 
 Adieu ; and let me close my letter with a little 
 epigrammatic address to Sleep, to which I am at 
 this moment a humble but unsuccessful suitor : 
 the original, in Latin, you perhaps may have 
 seen ; but you cannot have seen the translation, 
 which I shallbeg leave to subjoin, an extempora- 
 neous effusion of a great literary character of the 
 present day, when very young, and given to Jones 
 by a member of Clare Hall, Cambridge, as a thing 
 never made public, and perhaps now forgotten by 
 the author himself, of whom it may be said, as of 
 Goldsmith, by Paoli, " That he was like the sea, 
 which threw up pearls without its knowing it." 
 
Somne levis, quanquam certissima mortis imago, 
 Consortem cupio te tamen esse tori -, 
 
 Alma quies optata veni, nam sic sine vita, 
 Vivere quam suave est, sic sine morte mori. 
 
 Though Death's strong likeness in thy form we trace, 
 Come, Sleep, and fold me in thy soft embrace; '' 
 Come, gentle Sleep, that sweetest blessing give — 
 To die, thus living 5— and thus dead, to live ! 
 
 Holnicote, November 2, ISO?, 
 3\IT DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Instead of being damped by the ill suc- 
 cess of yesterday's excursion, I felt my ardour for 
 barrow-opening rather increased, and I was up 
 with the day, impatient to ascend the mountain 
 that was -the proposed scene of our operations; 
 and as it was planned over-night, I, willing to 
 signalize myself for zeal on this occasion, set qff 
 before my companions, escorted by a weather- 
 beaten huntsman of the late Sir Thomas Ackland, 
 a man who had been for near half a century in 
 the habit of scaling Dunkery, and encountering 
 the tempest on its front of snow ; yet who, so 
 fierce was the storm of sleet that overtook us 
 half way up the mountain, shrunk from its vio- 
 lence : as for me, cased as I was in double and 
 treble great c^ats, I felt the blast th rough every 
 joint, and almost repented me of my bpld under- 
 taking; yet, ashamed to give it up, I was resolved 
 
 K 4 
 
136 
 
 to stem it, and proceed, as it had all the appear- 
 ance of a shower only, which proved to be the 
 case ; for we had no sooner reached the summit 
 than it ceased, and left us in a clear, but pierce^ 
 ingly cold atmosphere. 
 
 My work was now before me, but the labourers 
 were not arrived, and I had half an hour to wait 
 and survey those stupendous mounds of stone 
 raised, as my fancy suggested, over chiefs who 
 had merited highly of their country to be thus 
 distinguished ; and to accelerate the circulation of 
 iny blood, which was almost stagnated by the in- 
 tense cold, I flew from one to the other with an 
 enthusiasm that would have done honour to the 
 most professed antiquary. My pioneers had now 
 assembled, and I lost no time in setting them to 
 work : I began my operations on two which had 
 certainly been much disturbed, if not opened ; 
 but, as I was willing to suppose, not by such as 
 had any thing more in view than the stones they 
 were composed of; and, therefore, I had still hopes 
 that the sepulchral contents might yet remain to 
 be discovered. 
 
 The cairns I began with were such as were not 
 likely to keep us long in suspense ; for, though of 
 a considerable round, their height had been much 
 reduced, particularly towards the centre, to which 
 our attack was chiefly directed, as from Douglas's 
 Nienia, yesterday evening, I had been taking a 
 lesson, and found that, in general, the interment 
 was to be looked for as near as possible to the 
 middle of the barrow, though there were excep- 
 
137 
 
 tions, but rare, to this general rule; for I now re- 
 collect hearing our antiquarian acquaintance 
 whom we met at Haverfordwest, and afterwards 
 at Milford, consulted respecting the prophetic in- 
 scription found at Pill priory, say, that he had 
 known tumuli without any central interment, but 
 having a row of urns round the margin, a singular 
 variety, and perhaps unique. 
 
 By ^he time I had finished the examination of 
 the second cairn, my companions in the vale, with 
 calmness and sunshine in their train, had joined 
 me. The history of my fruitless researches was 
 not very encouraging, for I even had not the ani- 
 mating symptoms that yesterday's labour pro^ 
 duced, of charcoal and other evidence of burning. 
 But still this was not considered a fair trial, and 
 it was determined to encounter the monarch of 
 the mountain, a cairn of immense diameter, and 
 at least twelve feet in height from the apex, en- 
 tire, and apparently untouched. The stones were 
 not very small, but yet not too large to be ma- 
 nageable. The labourers, fully persuaded that it 
 contained treasure, worked with uncommon spirit, 
 and, though the task was Herculean, accomplished 
 it in much less time than I thought it possible, 
 clearing an opening of no small diameter to the 
 bottom. I hung over the work the whole time 
 with anxious expectation, and was certain that 
 nothing could have escaped my intent observation, 
 had any relic or other sepulchral symptom turned 
 up. However, another of nearly equal size, and 
 seemingly as perfect and untouched, under went a 
 
138 
 
 similar operation, and produced a similar disap-^ 
 pointment. 
 
 On Jones, Dunkery had the effect of Parnassus ;■ 
 for, not willing to think the venerable piles we 
 had been exploring any other than the sepulchres 
 of the mighty dead, he had made our violation of 
 their manes the subject of a poem, and had in- 
 voked the muses, not unpropitiously ; when he has 
 written it fairly I will send you a copy of it, and 
 shall be happy to have- your opinion ; you have 
 been an admirer of his smaller things, but this is 
 something out of his ordinary style, and, being 
 such, is entitled to some indulgence. Pray show 
 it the General, who, I am told, is as great a. judge 
 of poetry, as of the Ogham learning. 
 
 Apropos ! — I have heard that a stone has lately 
 been dug up out of a tumulus on the Curragh of 
 Kildare, with an inscription in that character, 
 giving an account of a temple that once stood on 
 the Curragh, similar in size and form to that of 
 Stonehenge, and that here Garble Riada, in whose 
 reign, about the second century, it was erected, 
 was buried. 
 
 I am so much at a loss to account for those 
 stone pyramids, which have excited my attention 
 since I have been in this country, that I am very 
 desirous of knowing the General's sentiments on 
 the subject; for, notwithstanding we have not 
 been so fortunate as to fall upon the interment, 
 perhaps a difficult thing in heaps of that magni- 
 tude, yet I cannot give up my belief of their 
 being some of the primitive mausoleums, and, 
 
139 
 
 could I extend my stay longer here, should per- 
 suade myself to hazard another attempt: you 
 must confess that I am fairly bit, and have the 
 barrow mania strongly on me. 
 
 To-morrow will be our last day here, though we 
 are pressed to stay till the weather alters, so that 
 you must not expect to hear from me till I am 
 got to Wiltshire, a route I am resolved on, as I 
 shall, by taking it, have an opportunity of seeing 
 three places I reproach myself for having not al- 
 ready seen, viz. Stourhead, the seat of Sir Richard 
 Hoare; Stonehenge ; arkl Sarum, both Old and 
 New. Fare you well for a few days, and let me 
 live in your remembrance, as you do ever in that 
 of 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 Bridgewater, Novembers, ISO/. 
 ilV DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Seeing no prospect of a change in the 
 weather for the better, I at last mustered a resolu- 
 tion (and you well know what an irresolute creature 
 I am) to tear myself from the elegant hospitality 
 of Holnicote ; though if I waited to see sunshine 
 without, or clouds within, I believe I should 
 have wintered in this (maugre Dunkerv's un- 
 ceasing storms) lovely Vale; and yesterday morn- 
 ing took my leave of my worthy cnrertaiiK rs, and 
 a spot that will ever be dear to me, where, If I 
 could have forgot my Eliza, I should have p:;ssed 
 one of the plcasantest portions of mj 
 

 140 
 
 Our last clay, for the tempest would not admit 
 of our peeping out, was devoted to in-door amuse- 
 ments ; I had my journal to review, and my pedi- 
 gree to work up ; while Jones was equally busy 
 in copying out fairly his almost extemporaneous 
 effusion of the muse, and which, unless pressed 
 to it, he neglects to do, so that many a choice 
 tnorceau is by that means lost. Besides, his bo- 
 tanical acquisitions, which during his stay in So- 
 mersetshire are much increased, called for ar- 
 rangement, especially as he talks of publishing a 
 small tract on fungi this winter. 
 
 In case we should be disposed to pass that, way, 
 we were charged with introductory letters to 
 Stourhead from Mr. Fortescue, whose 1 lady is 
 a sister of Sir Richard Iioare, and got as far 
 as this place last night, through sleet and a 
 thick fog, that would not permit us to see 
 twenty yards from the chaise. We changed 
 horses at Stowey, and staid only while our 
 "baggage was shifting, and the horses putting 
 to. The fog was thicker than ever, and fleecy 
 snow falling, all I could discover particularly in 
 this town within my ken, was, that water ran 
 through the street, as I am told it does at Salis- 
 bury. It was dark night before we reached 
 Bridge water, and by the turnings we made, and 
 the rattling we heard over pavements, we con- 
 cluded that this must be a large town. 
 
 We felt inexpressible happiness to have arrived 
 at our inn, and nothing was wanting to complete 
 it but a good fire, and a comfortable quiet. room. 
 
141 
 
 The former we were not disappointed in, but the 
 latter it was impossible to get, as the house, on 
 account of some public meeting, and the weather 
 detaining many of- the company in town, was 
 so full, that there was no private sitting-room, 
 but only a large common room disengaged, of 
 which already possession had been taken, on 
 condition that the first occupants were not to 
 object to any accession which might happen to 
 be made to the party in the course of the even- 
 ing. Knowing this, we needed no apology for 
 our seeming intrusion. On entering, we found 
 three gentlemen, and before supper were joined 
 by four or five more. The same conditions ex- 
 tending to us all, we appeared to acquiesce in the 
 necessity of being social ; and having secured our 
 beds, and ordered supper, we began to converse 
 'and enjoy our fireside. 
 
 Two of the gentlemen who had pre-occupied 
 the room were evidently young, and of a condi- 
 tion above their appearance, though one of them 
 had given himself a disguise to produce a look of 
 age and vulgarity, by wearing a wig certainly 
 never made for him, a rusty gray, cocking up at 
 the nape, and in quality not much better than 
 those that are destined to perform the part of scare- 
 crows. The other wore a black scratch, of a cut 
 very antiquated, but covering the head better, and 
 brought very low on the forehead, chiefly for the 
 purpose of contributing to secure the application 
 of a false nose,' so nicely adapted as to leave a 
 person at a little distauce in doubt whether it was 
 an adventitious or the real gnomon rather en- 
 
142 
 
 larged and enriched by an immoderate use of the 
 grape. Their discourse with each other was a 
 colloquy of irresistible humour ; nor was their wit 
 confined to themselves, for each of the company 
 had a share of it in their turns. They affected to 
 pass for foreigners, talking the English language 
 well, but with a happy imitation of a foreign ac- 
 cent, a sort of falsetto. They likewise addressed 
 each other by foreign names, one being called 
 Signor Parvidogiio, and the other Monsieur 
 Shqmntz. 
 
 Of the rest of our company I have now to give 
 you the description : one was a person who every 
 autumn made an excursion into different parts of 
 the kingdom, to visit trees remarkable for size, 
 traditional age, or picturesque growth, and took 
 drawings of them. His visit this season had been 
 limited to Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and Somerset- 
 shire, and he was now returning by way of Shaftes- 
 bury, having heard of a venerable oak in that 
 neighbourhood, at a place called Silton, under 
 which it is said that Judge Wyndham, in Charles 
 II.'s time, who had his mansion there, used to 
 smoke his pipe. By this sort of desultory life he 
 had, at the age of seventy-five, an appearance of 
 forty, was cheerful and well informed. For fifty 
 -years he had lived in London, in the same set of 
 chambers at one of the inns of court, which his 
 father, an eminent solicitor, had occupied for 
 forty years before him ; and for. those fifty years 
 never had been seen in town from the first of 
 August to the fifth of November ; and never out 
 
143 
 
 of it from that day to the next August in all that 
 time. He drank neither spirits nor wine, but 
 always some sort of malt liquor, if it could be 
 got ; otherwise water, given a chalybeate quality 
 to by being impregnated with a red-hot poker, and 
 suffered to cool : nor had he ever been bled, taken 
 physic, or kept his bed from sickness. As a sort 
 of liqueur he had always by him in town some 
 strong metheglin, brewed after a receipt he found 
 in Fuller's Worthies ; which, on feeling any ten- 
 dency to a cold, or other indisposition, he indulged 
 in two or three glasses of. To preserve and im- 
 pTove health, the greatest blessing of life, he was 
 not ashamed to say he had fallen on numerous pe- 
 culiarities, which many had endeavoured to laugh 
 him out of, but which he still invariably persisted 
 •in. He said he rose early, and before he left his 
 chamber ate a crust of bread ; then followed the 
 precepts of the school of Salerno: 
 
 Lumina mane, manus surgens gelida lavet unda, 
 Hac iliac modicum pergat, modicum sua membra 
 Extendat, crines pectat, dentes fricet, ista 
 Confortant cerebrum., confortant caetera membra. 
 
 To the use of the comb, particularly in the 
 morning, he had reason to attribute the strength 
 of his sight and hearing, which few men at his 
 time of life, he might venture to say, enjoyed iu 
 greater perfection; though he did not supersti- 
 tiously adhere to the number of times Marsilius 
 Ficinus recommends the drawing the comb through 
 the hair; not less than forty. In addition to the 
 4 
 
144 
 
 observance of such rules, when m town he went 
 every morning to a livery-stable ride, first having 
 put camomile-flowers in his shoes, and walked up 
 and down the ride covered with fresh stable- 
 litter for half an hour. He never met with 
 an accident, but was near losing his life the 
 first night of Garrick's acting after his re-ap- 
 pearance on the stage on his return from the con- 
 tinent : he went to the play in company with a 
 friend of his, an officer in the army, who had 
 been wounded in India, storming a breach, but 
 could he have foreseen what he that night under- 
 went from the pressure of the crowd, he would 
 have rather hazarded the event of the hottest cam- 
 paign. The house was a faint representation of 
 the Black Hole of Calcutta. 
 
 The least social of our party, dressed in black, 
 with a straight head of hair, and demure counte- 
 nance, I took for an itinerant methodist preacher, 
 and found I was right in my conjecture ; for in 
 the course of his conversation it came out, that he 
 had been brought up at Trevecca, a seminary in 
 Brecknockshire, established by a noted, or, rather, 
 a notorious preacher, of that country, one Howel 
 Harries. From his hard accent I should have set 
 him down for a Welshman ; but he was shrewd, 
 and not deficient in history and classical learn- 
 ing, a knowledge he had occasion to display in 
 consequence of several ludicrous attacks made 
 upon him by the masqueraders. He much con- 
 gratulated the nation on a Chancellor of the Ex- 
 chequer, who,- while he managed the finances of 
 
145 
 
 the empire with economy, had so much of the 
 new light as to show that he was not inattentive 
 to laying up those treasures " where thieves do 
 not break through and steal;" he likewise was ex- 
 travagant in his eulogium on the Society for the 
 Reformation of Manners and Suppression of Vice; 
 but on one of the masquerading gentlemen asking 
 him if he had ever been a missionary at Sierra 
 Leone, I know not why, but he was silenced at 
 once, and never uttered another syllable. 
 
 There was also a rattling country squire, re- 
 turning from Amesbury, where he had been with 
 his greyhounds ; and, as he said, to use his own 
 phrase, had been making an example of Mans- 
 field and Lord Rivers. " I am sure, Gentlemen," 
 said he, " were you to see my two dogs Snap and 
 Goby, you would pronounce them the very first 
 coursers in England; only examine their points :" 
 then ringing the bell, he ordered his servant to 
 introduce the two greyhounds, to the no small 
 annoyance of our party, as he coursed all his 
 courses anew, swearing, that if he lived to the 
 next meeting he would again make an example of 
 the old Judge, a term I find peculiar to the mem- 
 bers of the Greyhound Club. 
 
 We had an itinerant miniature-painter, who had 
 been traversing the west of England, carrying on 
 a most delightful commerce, to prepare and fit 
 ladies for the bosoms of their lovers, for the mo- 
 derate fee of one guinea. He produced specimens 
 of his art, not despicable, though, I presume, ra- 
 ther more highly finished than his guinea touches, 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 which he must nave thrown off with wonderful 
 rapidity, as he informed me, that since he had left 
 town, in the course of three months, lie had 
 painted ninety-eight portraits. " Why, then," 
 cried the squire, " Master Brush, you may as well 
 make up your number a hundred, and I and Snap 
 will sit for our pictures," 
 
 The other, who entered last, must have been, 
 from the bundle of fishing-rods he carried with 
 him, a disciple of old Isaac Walton :■ he was at- 
 tended by a pretty, delicate-looking youth, who 
 passed for his nephew, but whom I had, from the 
 first, set down for a girl in disguise ; and this was 
 the opinion of the whole company after this pair 
 had retired, and that they did at an early hour. 
 It seems this angler had this autumn been in De- 
 vonshire, pursuing his favourite diversion, and had 
 taken care to provide himself with a stock of 
 gentle bait. What might have been his skill in 
 angling, and judgment in fish, I am not able to 
 decide ; but his taste in the choice of his compa- 
 nion argued him to be no mean adept in the 
 science of flesh, 
 
 After supper our masked friends started a va- 
 riety of subjects, which they hunted down with 
 great sagacity. Among many others a publi- 
 cation they produced, entitled, Bath Charac- 
 ters, which had then made a great noise, be- 
 came the subject of discussion ; but as we 
 had never read or seen the performance till 
 now, we could not join in it; they therefore, 
 with great politeness, suffered the pamphlet 
 
147 
 
 to circulate round the table, and gave us some 
 idea of the object of the publication. The 
 Italian gentleman, Signor Parvidoglio, seemed to 
 think very slightingly of it, as it affected to aim 
 Its satire, or rather low malice, at real characters, 
 for no other reason than that one was fat, another 
 skinnv, a third fond of music; and that ano- 
 ther had slept longer than usual, owing to the ex- 
 treme ignorance of the physician, who had, in his 
 prescription, directed octoginta instead of " octo- 
 decim guttas" of laudanum ; as if that ignorance 
 was confined to Bath, when it is well known that 
 such ignoramuses swarm in the metropolis, in the 
 character of physicians as well as apothecaries ; 
 for I knew an apothecary in London, who, on 
 reading a prescription where a medicine was or- 
 dered to be used pro re nata, refused to make it 
 up, conceiving it was meant to procure abortion. 
 Besides, where is the humour of a dialogue be- 
 tween a drunken parson and a fiddling eunuch ? 
 There can be no wit surely in representing the 
 minister of God under circumstances disgraceful 
 to religion, and letting us know that a foolish Ita- 
 lian is vain of the effect of his instrument on a 
 lady who has an exquisite taste for his perform- 
 ance. As to the equivoque that runs through die 
 dialogue, it is too threadbare and low to excite 
 a smile, and has not a feature to prove it of the 
 household of wit. If a man's real name is Apple, 
 he is called Sir Rcdstreak Pippin; or if he has 
 been so unfortunate as to write any little jeu 
 desprit of fourteen lines, whether legitimate or il* 
 
 l 2 
 

 148 
 
 legitimate, he is to be held out to ridicule under 
 the name of Billy Sonnet. If this is wit, this 
 satire, there is no company of eight who sit 
 down to dine with each other, but may furnish 
 materials for a publication of this sort. 
 
 In Italy one of the most popular pamphlets 
 ever known in that country was written merely 
 by way of trying its effect on the public, by 
 a lounging Englishman, on the subject of a 
 fete at Naples, on the sea-shore, in which a 
 great naval officer, and a well-known diplomatic 
 character, made"' a conspicuous figure ; the name 
 of Sir Sinister Teneriffe being given to one, 
 and Sir Pottery Lava to the other. It was 
 translated into Italian, but, by order of the King 
 of Naples, the English as well as Italian edition 
 was suppressed, and, I believe, very few be- 
 sides myself can boast of being in possession 
 of this rarity. 
 
 Jones, who had been long silent, now accosted 
 the Signor: " As you, Sir, have applied the epi- 
 thets legitimate and illegitimate, to the sonnet, I 
 presume you must be either favourable to, or have 
 a contempt for that distinction ; for my part, as to 
 the question of legitimacy and illegitimacy, I am 
 not ashamed to declare for the bastard sonnet." 
 Signor Parvidoglio, as I must still call him, though 
 I shrewdly suspect he can have no other relation- 
 ship to Italy than that of having visited it, per- 
 haps when making the fashionable tour of the 
 Continent, said he was happy to echo his senti- 
 ments. 
 
149 
 
 " Tis true, much ingenuity lias been exercised on 
 the definition of the true sonnet, lately, by men of 
 eminence in literature, so that we are induced to 
 think the discussion of importance ; but all they 
 have advanced only serves to convince me that 
 they want taste and have no ear ; I say with you, 
 the bastard sonnet for me ! The sonnet, a small 
 poem of fourteen lines, is of Italian origin, and 
 was constructed as to rhythm to accommodate itself 
 to the genius of that language, and to music. 
 Milton, in English, was the first servile imitator 
 of the sonnet after the Italian model, without 
 any reference to the origin of its structure * 
 and if you except two or three, they are mean 
 prosaic compositions, exceedingly inharmonious 
 to a true English ear, from the returns of the 
 rhythm being too frequent, or too remote from 
 each other. 
 
 " Meaning to have written a small treatise on the 
 subject, I have taken some pains in selecting 
 sonnets of both kinds, and happen to have now 
 by me one very beautiful specimen of the bas- 
 tard kind, by Sir Philip Sidney, who is said to 
 have had an exquisite taste for music, and yet 
 preferred that species;" which producing from his 
 pocket-book, he told Jones he was welcome to 
 a copy of it; who by his rapid skill in brachy- 
 graphy soon made it his own, to enable me to 
 inclose it to you. 
 
 h 3 
 
150 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Who doth desire that chaste his wife should bee, 
 
 Fi;st be he true, for truth doth truth deserve; 
 Then be he such, as she his worth may see, 
 
 And alwaies one credit with her preserve 5 
 £Jot toying kind, nor causelessly unkind ; 
 
 Not stirring thoughts, nor yet denying right j 
 Not spying faults, nor in plaine errors blind ; 
 
 Never hard hand, nor ever reins too light 3 
 As far from want as farr from vaine expense, 
 
 Th'one doth enforce, the other doth entice *, 
 Allow good companie, but drive from thence 
 
 All filthie mouths, that glorie in theire vice :— 
 This done thou hast no more, but leave the rest 
 To nature, fortune, time, and woman's breast. 
 
 Changing the subject, he then asked Jones if 
 he was fond of masquerades, or had been much in 
 the habit of frequenting chem : on Jones saying- 
 he had never been but at one in his life, he re- 
 commended a more intimate acquaintance with 
 them, vindicating them from the unjust sentence 
 pronounced against them, of being the most dan^- 
 gerous and immoral entertainments tolerated in 
 this kingdom ; whereas he contended, a com- 
 mon dance, that is, a ball, innocent as it may 
 be considered, and even encouraged by the most 
 prudent, virtuous parents, has a much more ob'- 
 yious tendency to heat the imagination and to cor- 
 rupt the mind ; for 
 
 ff When music softens,, and when dancing fires," 
 
151 
 
 every barrier which female delicacy at other times 
 sets up against insolence and familiarity, is broken 
 down in the hurrying maze of all those voluptuous 
 evolutions incident to that, I cannot call it, ac- 
 complishment; and the passions thus inflamed, 
 the quickest road is open to the heart. Who 
 knows how fingers and toes may be taught to 
 speak? And in the dance where is the Mentor 
 whose sagacity such tactics cannot elude? Eyes 
 are always eloquent ; but here, where without 
 control they are suffered to hold sweet converse 
 with each other, who is bold enough to estimate 
 the extent of the danger such a dialogue may 
 produce? It is the only species of amusement 
 that admits of an indiscriminate license of look, 
 speech, and gesture; which, stopping short of 
 offence, censure has no power to lay hold of to 
 correct. At a masquerade, women of character 
 are always under the protection of a parent, hus- 
 band, brother, or friend ; then what mischief can 
 ensue ? familiarity then admits of no improper 
 latitude, and insult cannot be offered with impu- 
 nity." Then, once more suddenly shifting the 
 subject, and addressing himself to the chronicler 
 of trees: — " Sir, I much admire your pursuit, pro- 
 ductive of health and elegant amusement ; and 
 should be happy to hear that you were disposed 
 to treat the public with the fruits of your studies. 
 The painter, the naturalist, and the antiquary, 
 have an equal interest in them ; but what would 
 you think of a man, such is the depravity of 
 the age we live in ! who travelled for as manv 
 
 I L 
 
152 
 
 months in summer as you have done, to copy 
 every scrap of nonsense and indecency from every 
 inn window and wall, with an intent to enlarge 
 the collections in Ana by a publication with the 
 title of Wall-tf/2tf, Window-#;2#, and Cloacin-tfwtf ; 
 I am told this was clone in a sister kingdom, and 
 the prospectus of the work met with great encou- 
 ragement, and was likely to prove as productive 
 as ' More Miseries' In Ireland though, I am 
 told, that in Swift's time it was the rage to scribble 
 on glass, and it was quite unfashionable not to 
 carry a diamond for that purpose; and I am told 
 that the windows of the common inns on their 
 great roads now bear memorials of the greatest 
 wits of that age." 
 
 Finding that our route lay through Wiltshire, 
 and that we had letters of introduction to Stour- 
 head, they spoke with enthusiasm of that charm- 
 ing place, as intimately acquainted with it, 
 and its worthy possessor. Of all the show-places 
 they knew of, and there were none that they 
 seemed strangers to, they were best pleased with 
 Stourhead ; there was more softness and repose in 
 its character. The spot seems to harmonize with 
 its master's mind, which, like the scene around 
 him, is tranquil, yet full of life; retired, but 
 never gloomy. 
 
 It had struck twelve, and we all recollected 
 that it was time to retire, and even I could not 
 withhold myself from the arms of sleep, but re- 
 lied on my being able to quit my pillow early, to 
 write to you. And now having accomplished my 
 
155 
 
 task, the chaise is ordered, and we are instantly 
 going to proceed, meaning to be at Stourton to- 
 night. Our companions, we were told, had all of 
 them left the inn before we were up, notwith- 
 standing the snow fell thick. It is at present a 
 little better, and there is a sickly gleam of sun- 
 shine. I hear the chaise, and must wind up ; Jones 
 has been ready this half hour, so adieu ! 
 
 Piper's Inn, November 6, I8O7. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Our first stage from Bridgewater was 
 Piper's Inn ; and though at setting out we had a 
 short interval of sunshine and a blue sky, yet long 
 before we completed our stage it began to snow, 
 and just as we drove up to the inn it thickened to 
 such a shower as I never remember to have wit- 
 nessed before. At the inn we were not a little 
 delighted to find our masquerading friends, who, 
 as they were going to diverge to the left from this 
 road, had ordered an early dinner, and hoped we 
 would have no objection to make such additions as 
 we pleased to their bill of fare, and join them. 
 With readiness we accepted the invitation, and 
 anticipating the pleasure of their conversation, 
 we forgot the storm, which continued with un- 
 abated fory for above an hour, and left us once 
 
154 
 
 more in sunshine. Our dinner was ready at the 
 very unfashionable hour of one. 
 
 I must tell you, that a little before we sat 
 down, a genteel-looking young man, with a bundle 
 covered over with oil-skin on a stick, entered; 
 and as there was but that one room with a fire 
 in it, he hoped he might be permitted to sit there. 
 On the company readily assenting to this, he 
 stepped out, got rid of his great coat and boots, 
 and entered the room gay as a butterfly emanci- 
 pated from its chrysalis. 
 
 This gentleman we found was a pedestrian 
 tourist, and had crossed the channel from Gla- 
 morganshire last, though he had been, during his 
 excursion, through the greater part' of the other 
 counties of South Wales, and was hurrying up to 
 town to prepare his rambles for the press, for 
 which he was so eager that he had got a prospectus 
 of his intended work printed as he came along at 
 Brecknock, and which he now handed about; 
 and as it may justly be said to be an original, I 
 send it you: " Speedily will be published, a 
 Month's Excursion on Foot by an Ex-Treasury 
 Clerk, through the Six Counties of South Wales ; 
 in which the cream of all the former tourists, 
 whether pedestrian, equestrian, gleaners, giglers, 
 curriclers, or barouchers, is skimmed off, and a 
 new itinerary syllabub whipped up ; embellished 
 with several etchings of scenes never before sub- 
 mitted to the pencil ; plates of numerous relics of 
 antiquity ; and an appendix, containing many 
 scarce and valuable documents from authentic ma- 
 
155 
 
 nuscripts, among which Will be found a portrait 
 of Henry VII. when Earl of Richmond, from an 
 original done on the bottom of a trencher at a 
 house in Cardiganshire, where he lay, on his way 
 from Milford to Bos worth Field, with the point 
 of a red-hot dagger by a Frenchman of the name 
 of Brukbois, then in his retinue, and still shown 
 with great pride by a descendant of that house, 
 the present proprietor, who boasts to have some 
 of the Tudor blood in his veins, from the adven- 
 ture of that night, when it was shrewdly sus- 
 pected that besides this coarse edition of himself 
 in boards, the monarch left behind him a more 
 finished one, hotpressed, in sheets ; together with 
 an exact representation of the dagger, supposed to 
 be one of the old Saxon seaxes, used in the mas- 
 sacre of Stonehenge, the handle being of ivory, 
 curiously wrought, ending in a female figure, and 
 exactly agreeing with the account given of its 
 form by the old British bards and chroniclers ; an 
 engraving of a comb and mirror left by a mermaid 
 surprised while sunning herself on a rock off the 
 coast of Cardiganshire, and preserved by the son 
 of the person who found them ; the comb made 
 of a sort of mother of pearl, and the mirror of a 
 substance like jet, but harder, of the highest po- 
 lish, oval, and of the size of a battledore. 
 
 " In the appendix, among many other rare 
 articles, will be introduced an account of the first 
 appearance of the sweating sickness, in a letter 
 from Henry VII. to a merchant of the name of 
 JVhite, of Tenby, and communicated by a gen- 
 
 5 
 
156 
 
 tleman of Bristol, whose ancestor, then an ap- 
 prentice with the said Mr. White, copied it from 
 the original, in French ; a treatise on the belief of 
 Fetch Candles, by Jeremy Taylor, D. D. then 
 Chaplain to Lord Car-bury, at Golden Grove, 
 in Carmarthenshire ; a manuscript found among 
 a bundle of old books and papers at a peasant's 
 house, in the neighbourhood of that noble man- 
 sion, soon after the fire that consumed it, about 
 the beginning of the last century; and a cir- 
 cumstantial account of the burning of Bishop 
 Ferrar, in Lammas Street, Carmarthen, by a 
 by-stander : the whole to conclude with three 
 itinerant bed soliloquies, in blank verse, while 
 the author's linen was washing." Exulting in 
 the fascination of such a bill of fare, and full 
 of the golden visions of approaching authorship, 
 the little Treasury tourist slipping into his half- 
 dry great coat and boots, left us, saying, that he 
 meant to visit the ruins of Glastonbury that 
 night. 
 
 He was no sooner under w T ay than Jones, who 
 had for some time with difficulty restrained his 
 spleen, broke out into a vehement exclamation 
 against the swarm of modern tourists that infested 
 Wales every summer, and with whose crude per- 
 formances the press was made to groan every 
 winter, from the pitiful, piddling pedestrian, the 
 walking W— — r, up to the pompous, pragmatical, 
 petulant, plagiarist pedestrian too, though on 
 
 stilts, M n. The same slobbered tale is still 
 
 repeated, and is always worse told by Inrri that 
 
157 
 
 tells it last; till, like college furniture, too often 
 thirdcd, it becomes too threadbare for credit. 
 
 How can a man, without knowing the language 
 of the country he professes to travel through, and 
 hurrying between showers, see any thing of, or 
 procure such information as to enable him to 
 write about it, who scarce ever deviates from the 
 main road in search of any thing, and all whose 
 new matter is taken from ostlers or chamber- 
 maids? They may, indeed, serve up a miserable 
 salmagundy from Leland, Speed, Camden, Tay- 
 lor the water-poet, Drayton's Polyolbion, and 
 old Churchyard. Half the book is filled with 
 a detail of their own miseries; the process of 
 cooking eggs and bacon ; the account of a fe- 
 male barber; their invectives against a whole 
 country because the landlord of a hedge-ale- 
 house understands his own language better 
 than theirs; because his wig did not well cover 
 his ears; or his small-clothes were made of 
 corderoy. 
 
 Besides, a late quarto tourist had presumed to 
 give from other performances, as history and fact, 
 two or three passages which the gentleman who 
 first gave them to the public told me had, in a 
 playful sally of genius, been fabricated by him, 
 as an experiment to see how easy it was to 
 quiz the age, and become a successful literary 
 impostor. 
 
 He wished for a severe shower of criticism to 
 brush away such insects, that multiply to the mis- 
 leading all who wish for information and truth, 
 
15$ 
 
 by adopting fraud and propagating error. He 
 hoped he should yet live to see, for the honour of 
 his own country, a native tourist spring up with 
 the talents of a Pennant, an antiquary, a scholar, 
 and a gentleman, who would undertake to ex- 
 plore South Wales on the same plan as he did 
 North Wales, and rescue it from insult and mis- 
 representation. To his knowledge there were va- 
 luable materials in the archives of many of the 
 great houses of that part of the principality yet 
 unsunned, but not inaccessible to a Welshman, 
 properly introduced, and found competent to turn 
 the treasures to account. 
 
 " I think a Review," said one of our masquerad- 
 ing friends, " conducted by gentlemen of fortune, 
 independence, and learning, would be the means 
 of reforming the press, and free it from the pros- 
 titution it submits to now. I question much if 
 this would not contribute more to the fostering 
 genius than the Royal Institution, with all its 
 boasted parade. In such an age, when new so- 
 cieties are hourly forming, from the Blue-stocking 
 to the Black-leg club, that men of fashion and 
 talent cannot have the virtue to lay the plan of an 
 association for the protection and advancement of 
 literature, that would gain them immortal honour, 
 instead of debasing themselves into stage-coach- 
 men, or wasting their lives and fortunes in listen- 
 ing to the rattle of the dice-box !" 
 
 He said we were not happy in our private or 
 p\iblic institutions, and instanced the Antiquarian 
 Society, the principle of which he was entirely 
 
159 
 
 deceived in, otherwise he never would have be- 
 come a member of it. He was led to think that 
 this society was formed of men all fond of anti- 
 quities, and though not all, perhaps, skilled 
 alike in illustrating the subjects that came before 
 them, yet that it involved many who were equally 
 capable as desirous of throwing a light on most 
 of the curious articles that from time to time 
 were transmitted to them for their inspection : 
 but when he became a member, how was he 
 disappointed to find it a mere temporary de- 
 posit of coins, spear-heads, rude inscriptions, 
 accounts of the contents of tumuli, of the 
 wonderful nailstone, &c. furnishing materials 
 for a costly volume every year ! He had 
 always considered that the members of that So- 
 ciety met to receive all communications, and dis- 
 cuss the subject of each, whereby the literary 
 world might be benefited, and the antiquities of 
 the country elucidated and made subservient to 
 history ; whereas the whole business of the meet- 
 ing is taken up in absurd ceremonies. The secre- 
 tary, supposing the article communicated to be a 
 helmet, or any other piece of ancient armour, 
 transmitted to that learned body from a gentleman 
 in Yorkshire, accompanied by a letter giving an 
 account of the place and other circumstances of 
 its discovery, first reads the letter ; the venerable 
 relic is then handed about in solemn silence from 
 one member to the other, and after having made 
 its circuit, returns to the secretary. Not a word 
 is said all this time; a Quakers' meeting is no. 
 
160 
 
 more silent Thanks are then voted to the gen- 
 tleman for his communication, and this is repeated 
 for three meetings. A letter, with the thanks of 
 the society, is then sent to the person who pre- 
 sented the article, together with the article itself, 
 without any opinion or comment whatever, to the 
 no small disappointment of the person by whom 
 it was transmitted, who naturally expected such 
 information as would have stamped a value on his 
 now insignificant relic. 
 
 " Now let me ask," added he, " of what 
 possible use can this be? whereas, if any thing 
 there produced were to undergo a learned dis- 
 quisition from such of the members as un- 
 doubtedly might be found there equal to the 
 task ; the age, the nation, and the use of every 
 thing liable to come before them, might be 
 ascertained, and such investigation would un- 
 avoidably lead to discoveries of the greatest im- 
 portance to our national history, and literature in 
 general. It would be something, indeed, if a per- 
 manent museum, under the auspices of the Anti- 
 quarian Society, involving men of the first rank, 
 fortune, and talents, in the kingdom, were to be- 
 established, accessible to every member, who 
 might be at liberty to introduce any curious person, 
 not of the society, to inspect it. This could not 
 fail to be productive of its use ; but as it is now 
 conducted, I consider it a piece of unmeaning 
 mummery." 
 
 Though our viaticum had been ordered at a 
 ^jiost unfashipnably early hour, so far as it con- 
 
161 
 
 cerned food for the body; yet the mental repast 
 carried us on to so late an hour, that neither of us 
 seemed disposed to abridge the truly Attic enter- 
 tainment of the evening ; we therefore agreed to 
 pass the night where we were. To our temperate 
 circulation of the glass tea, succeeded, and in the 
 interval between tea and supper we mustered a. 
 little concert, as we found that one of the strangers 
 played the violincelto, and the other the violin, 
 and had their instruments with them ; and you 
 know that Jones plays most enchantingly on the 
 flute. 
 
 After supper we all sang in our turns : Signor 
 Parvidoglio treated us with a most charming Ita- 
 lian air; as did his companion Avith a French bac- 
 chanal song, without an exception the most ex- 
 quisitely characteristic song I ever heard, and 
 to which, I think, Connoly, had he been present, 
 who certainly is very fastidious, has too much 
 taste not to allow merit. Jones gave us his glo- 
 rious Welsh hunting song; and I brought up the 
 rear with your favourite Irish air, O'Carrol's 
 Whim, to your own elegant lines written during 
 our fishing party near Mullingar, which is never 
 heard, poor as the vehicle is, without being en- 
 cored. 
 
 Our concert over, we sat down to a supper pro- 
 portionably early to our dinner, and had an hour 
 after to devote to conversation over our negus, 
 without trespassing too far on the night ; and we 
 all did our best to supply it with topics. Our new 
 acquaintance in what they introduced displayed 
 
 * 
 
168 
 
 great acuteness and novelty :: we talked of the 
 old custom of drinking healths and giving toasts, 
 as nearly exploded : " Why, then," says the counter- 
 feit Italian, " there will be an end of drinking; for 
 without some object, it is beastly to sit a whole 
 evening over the bottle; whereas, let each glass 
 be, as it were, a libation, the conviviality it pro- 
 motes becomes the 
 
 <e Feast of reason and the flow of soul." 
 
 Let rigid moralists say what they will, I honour 
 the memory of the then Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury or York (I don't recollect which), who, in 
 1716, wrote a treatise in defence of drinking King 
 William's health ; or, in other words, the glorious 
 Revolution. The same man would have written 
 in defence of drinking the health of his mistress 
 (I would not have it taken in a loose sense), the 
 lady of his affections ; for, in spite of their silk 
 fillybegs and lawn sleeves, they are men like us, 
 and must have affections. No doubt with an eye 
 to this, and scandalized at the immorality of the 
 English metropolitan, Peter, the then Bishop of 
 Cork, (and in Ireland, too !) wrote an octavo vo- 
 lume, which I have in my library, on the profane- 
 ness of drinking healths. I admire the taste of 
 Martial's time, when they drank to every letter in 
 their mistress's name. 
 
 Naevia sex cyathis, septem Justina bibatur, 
 Quinque Lycas, Lyde quatuor, Ida tribus." 
 
 Martial, Lib. i. Ep. fj, 
 
 I afeked Monsieur Sham nez, who, I understood, 
 had travelled through Spain, if what I had heard, 
 
163 
 
 of their being such slaves to fashion, or rather 
 servile in their imitation of their superiors, was 
 true. " I believe," said he, " it is, though it may 
 not be carried quite so far as the Marquis de 
 Langi£, in his Voyage d'Espagne, represents it, 
 when he says, c A lord sets the fashion ; one came 
 ' to Madrid the other day, bald, humpbacked, and 
 * a stutterer, and before night it was the rage.' 
 But why need we travel out of England for in- 
 stances of the almost magical power of fashion ? 
 It is well known that to the hiding: deformities 
 and defects, and to the making beauties more con- 
 spicuous, we owe the greater part of those endless 
 changes that are rung on dress, female dress par- 
 ticularly; and yet, without tracing the new fashion 
 to its origin, it is blindly followed by all alike. 
 Some woman with a beautiful arm, and an elbow 
 6 teres et rot u adits / like that of the l statue 
 ' which enchants the world/ first introduced the 
 fashion of naked elbows, which was indiscrimi- 
 nately followed, not only by every girl of seven- 
 teen, but by every raw-boned, shrivelled hag of 
 seventy. 
 
 " The late Duchess of Devonshire, a singular 
 compound of taste and frivolity, and who had a 
 greater playfulness of imagination than ever fell 
 to the share of her sex, when she first blazed on 
 the town, as well to gratify her endless fertility of 
 fancy, as to try how far the sceptre of fashion in 
 her hands could extend its influence, played a 
 thousand preposterous tricks with her dress : she 
 once appeared at the theatre in a child's bib and 
 
 M 2 
 
apron, and had she even carried her coral and 
 pap-spoon about too, she would have had imita- 
 tors. At another time, very early in spring, 
 when thsoe vegetables were small, and extremely 
 dear, she came in a head-dress ornamented 
 with real carrots and turnips; and lo ! in two days 
 time every milliner's shop displa} r ed an artificial 
 kitchen-garden." Jones very justly remarked, 
 that, though he should, in all things, endeavour 
 to avoid extremes, he was ever an advocate for 
 the mutability of fashion, let it arise from what 
 source it might ; for in a manufacturing country 
 it was, in his opinion, the main spring of trade :— 
 a very patriotic sentiment, we all allowed, and 
 worthy of a British subject ! 
 
 Poetry, which both the strangers seemed partial 
 to, and great judges of, was again brought on the 
 carpet; when Signor Parvidoglio, addressing him- 
 self to Jones — " Sir, as I perceive you are a fa- 
 vourite of the Muses, and, if we may judge from 
 the beautiful song you treated us with before? 
 supper, are justly entitled to the name of poet, 
 pray what is your opinion of Burns and Bloomrleld, 
 whom of late it has been very much the fashion 
 to admire r and, I am sorry to say, there is a fa- 
 shion in poetry," — " Why," said Jones, " lam tired 
 of carrying a glossary in my hand for ever, when I 
 am labouring through the Ultra-Tweedian dialect 
 of the former ; and after translating him, I may 
 say, to find him simple to vulgarity, too local to 
 be intelligible, and the whole too coarse a frieze 
 for the loom of the Muses. And as for the latter* 
 
165 
 
 like Holland's in painting, his subjects are always 
 low and sordid, as minutely, but not as judiciously 
 expressed. Morland's works are addressed only to 
 the eye ; the other's to the eye and ear ; — one is 
 never disgusted to see on Morland's canvass a duns:- 
 cart filling in a farmer's yard ; or to see ■ greasy 
 4 Joan' * keeling the pot,' or tending the hogs; 
 but to have the detail of things so offensive — 
 to have the sty analysed in verse ; hog- wash 
 smoothly poured through twenty lines ; and to be 
 told the grunt of every hungry pig, is too much 
 for the Muses, who are delicate ladies, to bear." 
 
 " Then I am happy, Sir," observed our Italian 
 mask, " to think as you do ; I don't object to their 
 poetry because they are men in humble life : Stephen 
 Duck, the laureat, who tickled the ears of Majesty 
 with his strains many years for his butt of sack, was 
 a thresher, but he had the discretion to throw aside 
 the flail when he assumed the laurel : and at Bath, 
 the other day, I was shown a little poem by my 
 bookseller, written by a stone-mason, and a coun- 
 tryman of yours, a Mr. Edward Williams ; but it 
 did not smack of the hod and trowel ; it was 
 simple, but elegant; all was nature, but she was 
 not in fdth and rags ; and when there was need of 
 sublimity, I perceived he could stretch an eagle 
 wing as if he had often taken his flight from the 
 highest peak of Parnassus. The poem was an ad- 
 dress to the rivers which the poet's mistress had to 
 cross in her way from Old Mona to the shrine of 
 St. David's, coastwise ; a translation from a noted 
 bard of his day, Davydd ap G wilim, the Welsh 
 
 M 3 
 
166 
 
 Tibulius, a. specimen that throws such poetical 
 coblers as Burns and Bioomfield far into the back 
 ground. 
 
 " I have been much in Wales, and have been 
 struck with the great quickness and sagacity of the 
 meanest peasant; their thoughts, like their lan- 
 guage, are those of an original people ; and had 
 they the suppleness of the inhabitants beyond the 
 Tweed, and could get more into the habit of 
 booing, I am well assured that they have talents 
 to suit any situation they might ' be thrown into : 
 the pride ant} independence you boast of, will 
 always keep you unknown; I confess they are 
 honourable feelings, but the world has a loss 
 At this moment had we not, as it were, mechani- 
 cally, looked at our watches, this panegyric was 
 in a fair way of being continued, to the great ex- 
 ultation, as you may suppose, of Jones, who is 
 the most national creature breathing: it was just 
 on the stroke of twelve, and we all seemed dis- 
 posed to retire, particularly our stranger compa- 
 nions, who were obliged to be ofT early, to reach 
 their place of destination to breakfast. The time 
 we had been together had' passed so much to our 
 mutual satisfaction, that we parted with some 
 degree of regret. My Cambrian friend, though 
 as vivacious as any man in company, and with no 
 somnolency near him, yet when the hour of rest 
 is announced, is always prepared to sacrifice to 
 Morpheus, audi tells me, that from the moment he 
 lays his head upon the pillow, he is asleep, and 
 seldom wakes till his usual hour of getting up. 
 
167 
 
 This is a luxury, and a luxury it certainly must 
 be ; you have often heard me say, I have no con- 
 ception of it, having always been a bad sleeper ; 
 don't wonder, then, that to finish my letter I have 
 sat out my fire, and outmatched the waiter. Adieu ! 
 and with anxious expectation of finding a packet 
 from you at Stourton, where we propose being to- 
 morrow night, believe me, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 P. S. Jones, just as he was retiring, handed me 
 the inclosed poem, the effect of the Muses' ges- 
 tation on the cold summit of Dunkery, while we 
 were in the act of violating those primitive sepul- 
 chres that crown it, and which I had promised to 
 send you. 
 
 That plaint again ! was it the howling blast ? 
 Again that shadow ! 'twas a cloud that pass'd ; 
 Oh ! no j — for see I not a giant form 
 Half hid in mists incumbent on the storm ? 
 A more than human voice methinks I hear ; — ■ 
 Or broke the distant thunder on my ear ? 
 " Tis not the thunder on thy ear that breaks, 
 It is the spirit of the mighty speaks j 
 That, hov 'ring round these death-devoted piles. 
 Th' inactive sabbath of the grave beguiles. — 
 Then, wretch, forbear, suspend thy impious deeds. 
 Know in each stroke no vulgar victim bleeds. 
 The stated flux of many a thousand tides 
 Has lash'd this sea-confining mountain's sides } 
 And springs of thousand ages dews have shed 
 To flower the heath that blooms around the dead, 
 Since first upon this solitary waste, 
 With mystic rites, jny sacred urn was plac'd ; 
 M 4 
 
168 
 
 Fill'd by the Druids from th' extinguished pyre, 
 
 And virgin guardians of th' eternal fire. 
 
 Barbarian ! yet till thine no hand profane, 
 
 Scythian or Roman, Saxon or the Dane, 
 
 Has dar'd the grave's dark secrets to betray, 
 
 And give my dust irrev'rently to day : 
 
 E'en they, all reeking from their bloody toil, 
 
 And insolent with conquest, and with spoil, 
 
 With rev'rence gaz'd on the stupendous mound, 
 
 And trod with chilling awe this hallow'd ground.—- 
 
 Yet callest thou thyself of British race ? 
 
 Renounce the spurious title j rather trace 
 
 To the fell Saxon, or more murd'rous band 
 
 Of fierce sea-kings that once overspread this land. 
 
 Perhaps thou think'st I liv'd unknown to fame, 
 
 A savage of these wilds, without a name : — 
 
 Know, that to sway a sceptre was my boast, 
 
 From Ex's fountain to the Severn's coast : 
 
 At Dunkery's rough base my palace rose, 
 
 Whose site the still remaining rampart shows ; 
 
 With thorns o'ergrown, and now become th' abode 
 
 Of beasts obscene, the serpent and the toad; 
 
 Where circling mead united rival kings, 
 
 And rival bards maintain'd the strife of strings : 
 
 Above was seen the mountain's front of snow, 
 
 And Horner's torrent waters rag'd below. — 
 
 Here o'er the boundless heath I drove my car, 
 
 And practis'd in the chase the mimic war; 
 
 For real war ne'er shook my peaceful throne, 
 
 Safe in my people's guardian love alone : 
 
 I saw the wandering rider of the main, 
 
 Yet never panted to enlarge my reign : 
 
 The Tyrian I forbade not to explore 
 
 My earth's rich bowels for the tempting ore j 
 
 He gave in vain to my undazzled view 
 
 Gems that refracted rays of every hue -, 
 
 Yet breath'd ! not a wish by impious trade, 
 
 Which prompts mad man through seas of blood to wade, 
 
169 
 
 In distant climes to seek the flaming mine, ' 
 
 Of peace destructive, where such baubles shine : 
 
 He saw his metal well supplied by stone, 
 
 And polish'd iv'ry rivall'd by my bone j 
 
 Saw that the sea, my native factor, brought 
 
 The jet and amber to my coasts unsought. 
 
 No wonder then, that, curious to behold, 
 
 All richly studded, and o'erlaid with gold, 
 
 The stranger's gift, the dagger by my side, 
 
 Slept in its scabbard useless and untried ; 
 
 For ne'er in wrath my bended bow I drew, 
 
 Ne'er, wing'd with death, my flint-tipp'd arrow flew, 
 
 Save when the branching victim was decreed, 
 
 In aid of regal luxury, to bleed j 
 
 Or when a horde of that ferocious brood, 
 
 Whose trade was robb'ry, and whose sport was blood, 
 
 Dark ocean rovers, chanc'd to touch my land, 
 
 And left their limbs to bleach along the strand j 
 
 Sad monument ! to mark to distant times 
 
 What certain vengeance waits such daring crimes ; 
 
 To punish those who Freedom's sons provoke, 
 
 Man lifts the arm, but Heaven directs the stroke. 
 
 Freedom ! at thy dear mention I would fain 
 
 Reanimate my clay, and live again. — 
 
 Thou first, best gift, the strongest proof of love 
 
 To mortals ever granted from above ! 
 
 How wert thou wont to glad my happy plains ! 
 
 Where but the shadow of thy name remains i 
 
 And, ah ! I see with sorrow everyday 
 
 That e'en this shade is flitting fast away : 
 
 And are there they — be vengeance on them huiTd ! 
 
 Who wish it fairly banish'd from the world ? 
 
 Yes ! — there's a monster, to whom hell gave birth, 
 
 And let him loose to desolate the earth 5 
 
 Who, trampling man, almost defies his God, 
 
 Idol of Gaul, beneath whose iron rod 
 
 The nations of the world are taught to bend, 
 
 Save Britain onlv, Britain to the end. 
 
m 
 
 Girt with her azure zone, may she disdai* 
 
 Basely to drag the tyrant's galling chain, 
 
 And, firm in native energy, oppose 
 
 Hers, and the worst of human nature's foes j 
 
 Preserve her birthright to her latest breath, 
 
 And leave the proud inheritance in death ! 
 
 Oh ! that I could, to combat in her cause, 
 
 Fate's chain unbinding, alter Nature's laws ! 
 
 Oh ! that my ashes could to life awake, 
 
 A separate form my every atom take > 
 
 As from the dragon's teeth when sown, of yore, 
 
 The soil a sudden crop of warriors bore > 
 
 Then would I urge thy violence to bare 
 
 My dust prolific, nor entreat to spare > 
 
 Myself had then been foremost to have bless'd 
 
 The thought that led to violate my rest ; 
 
 Ample atonement wouldst thou then have made, 
 
 And thus propitiate my offended shade. 
 
 Though to my dust be miracles denied, 
 
 Yet there less powerful virtues may reside :-— 
 
 Then scatter wide my relics to the gale, 
 
 That every breath the hero may inhale. 
 
 In this wide amphitheatre on high, 
 
 Beneath the grand pavilion of the sky, 
 
 Here let remote posterity convene, 
 
 (A cloud of power, I will invest the scene,) 
 
 Here let my sons, and let their aged sires, 
 
 Vet'rans from whose yet unextinguish'd fires 
 
 May be deriv'd as much as needs of flame 
 
 To light up glory in the youthful frame, 
 
 Meet round this pile, and, as at holiest shrine, 
 
 Their hands in pact inviolable twine ; 
 
 And, more to sanctify the solemn rite, 
 
 Oh ! may not only hands, but hearts nnite.„ 
 
 Till like one man become, and pledges given 
 
 Of union firm, by dread appeals to Heaven. 
 
 In one compatriot vow they shall agree 
 
 $V die like Britons, or continue free V* 
 
171 
 
 Sionrton, November *J , ISO?. 
 UY D£AH CHARLES, 
 
 Having not started early from Pipers 
 Ian, it was dark when we alighted at the inn of 
 this place ; and as we were not a little fatigued by 
 a journey tl*e most unpleasant I ever had, in 
 which the little we saw of the country was by 
 snatches between the showers of snow; we were 
 not inclined to be very fastidious as to our accom- 
 modations, but this house seemed to indicate a 
 competency to supply every comfort tliat hungry 
 and fatigued travellers might require. 
 
 A large party of people of fashion, who in 
 their transit towards Bath had stopped to see 
 Stourhead, had taken an early dinner there, and 
 were just gone, so there was an apology made 
 for introducing us into a smaller room, the best 
 room being in too much disorder; the very thing 
 that suited us, as, after what we had undergone, 
 all day, " snug was the wont;" and snug we 
 found every thing, to the utmost latitude of its 
 meaning. Hearing: that there was a <>reat deal of 
 company at Sir Richard Hoare's, we came to a re- 
 solution of not delivering our credentials from 
 Holnicote, which we accepted conditionally, con- 
 cluding that we should feel ourselves much more 
 independent, s and be freed from the toil and cere- 
 mony that must naturally result from the intro- 
 duction they were likely to procure. 
 
 As our hasty repast on the road did not de*ei ve 
 
172 
 
 the name of dinner, we were both well disposed 
 to order supper in good time ; and now have 
 feasted sumptuously, and sufficiently early, so as 
 to admit, without trespassing on the reasonable 
 Iiours of rest, before we retire, of my giving you 
 an account of our travels of this day, and of 
 Jones passing an hour in his hortus siccus. 
 
 It being rather late before we took our depar- 
 ture from Piper's Inn, our transit through the 
 country we passed was too rapid to allow of any 
 digression from our road, or of any stopping. 
 The little we saw of the country, as I have already 
 hinted, was by snatches ; and that little, to eyes 
 accustomed to the charming scenery of Wales, 
 and that part of Somersetshire we had just vi- 
 sited, so different in its aspect, so tame, and so 
 monotonous, was very insipid indeed : — a great 
 deal of low lands all overflowed, and the little 
 swells crowned with windmills; so that if we had 
 been Quixotes, we should not have wanted such 
 giants to encounter with. The highest point that 
 met our eye during a temporary suspension of the 
 fog, was Glastonbury Tor, the only ancient part 
 left of that once splendid monastery, a very con- 
 spicuous object ; but what is remarkable, this 
 fragment only, as we were informed, belongs, or 
 did lately belong, to Sir Richard Hoare ; so that 
 he could boast of possessing two of the finest ob- 
 servatories in the kingdom : this Tor, and Alfred's 
 Tower, in his own grounds at Stourhead, both 
 commanding a view of each other. 
 
 To you, who have, I believe, all Dugdale s Mo- 
 
173 
 
 nasticon by heart, and of course must be well 
 versed in the history of Glastonbury, it would be 
 an insult should I attempt to compress the various 
 legends I have read, and have heard from my 
 fellow-traveller on the road, of its origin, to give 
 any thing like consistency to which seems ex- 
 tremely difficult. 
 
 "What is your opinion of the account given of 
 the discovery of Arthur's grave ? Credulity may 
 certainly be indulged to a weakness ; but is not 
 the opposite quality too often carried to such 
 lengths as to induce the possessors to question 
 things as clear as the noon-day sun? It is no 
 wonder that by many the finding the body of Ar- 
 thur should be disputed, notwithstanding the 
 plausible evidence that is adduced to prove that 
 fact, when there are those, and, I believe, Hume 
 among the number, who doubt that such a man 
 ever existed. The Britons for many ages could not 
 be persuaded but that he was still alive, especially 
 as the manner of his death was not clearly ascer- 
 tained (there being at that time a policy in giving 
 a mysterious air to his disappearance, like that of 
 Romulus), or the place of his interment kuown ; 
 a circumstance referred to in a prophecy of Mer- 
 lin, and in that curious fragment of Taliessin 
 called the Grave of the Warriors : 
 
 " The grave of the steed, the grave of the 
 man of conflict, the grave of Gwgan with the 
 ruddy sword, and the grave of Arthur, are mys- 
 teries of the world." 
 
 To confirm the hereditary prejudices of his 
 
174 
 
 countrymen, long after his time, in supposing 
 their favourite hero, if not immortal, at least not 
 dead, my fellow-traveller has furnished from his 
 note-book, half a dozen of which he always car- 
 ries about with him, written in his clear small 
 band, containing the essence of every author 
 who has treated of British history, some very 
 curious documents, which you have below*. 
 He says that there were two Arthurs, a real 
 and a mythological character; the Arthur of 
 romance and the Arthur of history, who are 
 
 * '*■ Ipse verb Arthurus, juxta Merlini vaticinium, dubinni 
 jhabet exitura, quia utrum vivat an mortuus fuerit, nemmi eer- 
 tuRi estimatur esse," inquit Vincentius Belloracensis. 
 
 " Verissime quidera, addit Merlini interpres, Alanus Insufensis, 
 sictit hodieque pfobat varia homirmm de morte ejus et vita opinio. 
 Quod si mihi non credas, vade in Armoricura regnum, id est, t» 
 niinorern Britanniam, et prsedica per plateas et vkos, Artharem 
 Britonem more c^^nim mortuorum mortUum esse: et tunc 
 certe reipsa probabis, veram esse Merlini prophetiam, qua ait> 
 Artnuri exitum dubium fore. : si tarnen im-munis evadere inde 
 potuefisj quin ant malediciis audientlum. oppriraaris, aut certe 
 iapidibus Groans-. Hunc enim Britones tantse £amse tantaeque 
 gloria, virum nulla ratione adduci possunt ut morfcuum eredant, 
 prcesertim cum in nullis annaiibus inveniri possit scripture^ ubi- 
 nam vel mortuus fuerit vel sepultns ; sect omnis, a^ poene omnis 
 ilia' natio adhuc eum in insula Aballonis, quo lethaliter vulneratus 
 efcratum deportatus est deiitefe, ac vivere o^lnantur. C&uibus et 
 jllud Radulphi Nigri addere possumus. Quia Britannrca historic 
 de ejus morte nil certum tradidit ; Britones eum adhuc vivere 
 *ielirant. Et Mathaei Florilegi quod sequitur : 
 
 " Occultavit se rex moribundus ne casui tanto insultarent 
 mmiici; amicique molestarentur. Unde, quoniam de morte Arthuri 
 vel ejus sepultura nihil referunt historiab, gens Britonnm ipsuife 
 idhuc vivere^ prse m'agnitudine dilectionis, eontendunt." 
 
 5 
 
175 
 
 too often confounded, and hence all the incon- 
 sistences which render the existence of the latter 
 doubted. The Silurian chief who w T as elected to 
 the sovereignty of Britain, was not only a patron 
 of the bards, but said to have been a bard him- 
 self, and is recorded in one of the Triads, that 
 curious British chronicle, by threes, as one of the 
 irregular bards, with two others, the life of a 
 warrior being incompatible with the profession of 
 bardism, the basis of which was universal peace. 
 Jones tells me that there is one poem preserved 
 that has been ascribed to him, of which lie has 
 favoured me with the translation of two or three 
 stanzas, though, he says, the spirit of the original 
 must unavoidably evaporate by an attempt to 
 transfuse it into a language too w r eak to folio \v 
 the flight of the Gwentian rhapsody. You will 
 find this animated fragment as a rider at the end. 
 The subject of the poem appears to be a descrip- 
 tion of his knights companions of the round table; 
 and the poem has the reputation of being handed 
 down hereditarily in a family near Caerleon, in 
 Monmouthshire, where Arthur held his court, and 
 which boasts to trace its lineage to that illustrious 
 monarch's cupbearer. Jones transcribed it from 
 a manuscript that seemed to have been in the pos- 
 session of the great antiquary, Edward Lhwyd. 
 by the marginal notes he had introduced in his 
 own band- writing. In pursuing Arthur I am got 
 widely out of my course ; but had I continued in 
 it, my progress would have been next to a blank ; 
 as, after Glastonbury Tor, what with fog and dark- 
 
176' 
 
 ness, we were not treated with the sight of any 
 thing six yards out of the road. The last thing 
 that presented itself while daylight lasted was 
 the park wall (keeping us company for a full 
 mile) of Red Lynch, an old seat of the Earl of 
 Ilchester, but which, I understand, has not been 
 regularly inhabited by the noble family it belongs 
 to for several years, but is left at the mercy of two 
 most destructive occupants, rat and dry rot, to get 
 rid of which no process of ejectment has yet been 
 discovered. After passing this, night shut in 
 upon us, and all was terra incognita till we were 
 unchaised at this comfortable inn, where neatness 
 and quiet contend for the mastery. Jones, who 
 is at another table, in the midst of his herbarium, 
 has just reminded me of his Arthurian stanzas, 
 so I must close my letter, to make room for this 
 very curious fragment, or his nationality will be 
 offended. 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 * Spread be my board round as the hoop f of 
 the firmament, and as ample as my heart, that 
 there may be no first or last, for odious is distinc- 
 tion where merit is equal. 
 
 Who is he with his spear yet dripping with 
 gore? It is MeurigJ, the eagle of Dyved, the 
 
 Notes in Ed. LwhycCs Hand. 
 * This clearly alludes to his famed round table. 
 f The words in the original signify the horizon. 
 £ Meurig was a Regulus of Pjved, or Pembrokeshire, and 
 
177 
 
 terror of the Saxons : lie gave a banquet to the 
 wolves at Ccvyn Hiraeth^. Woe be to him who 
 meets him in His wrath ! 
 
 I have heard Ills shout ! T was the sound of 
 death ! His guards of Cemaes || exulted ; like 
 lightning flashed their blades around him — the 
 signal of blood. They know no sheaths but the 
 body of the foe. 
 
 The whirlwind of war is hushed. A lion 
 among roses is Meurig in peace ; mild as a sun- 
 beam in spring, in the circling of the festal horn *, 
 when the womb of the harp quickens at his touch, 
 
 said to be one of the four who bore golden swords before Arthur 
 at his coronation-feast. Most of the gentry of Cemaes trace 
 their pedigrees to hira. 
 
 \ There is a place on the confines of Pembrokeshire of this 
 name j that is, the mountain of longing or desire, literally -, but 
 here Hiraeth is used as desiderium in Latin sometimes for grief, 
 as in that passage of Horace : 
 
 ** Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus.** 
 
 And on this spot I was shown hundreds of little hillocks, by tra- 
 dition graves of those who fell in battle, it having been the scene 
 of a sharp conflict between the Saxons and the Welsh, and no 
 doubt the same that is here mentioned. 
 
 || That district of Pembrokeshire where it is said he had his 
 palace, at Llan Nyfer, and probably on that spot which after- 
 wards the Normans occupied, and where the Lord Rhys was in 
 durance. 
 
 * The heroes of Cambria, like Homer's, were accustomed to 
 solace themselves with music during their short intervals of rest 
 from their martial labours. 
 
 N 
 
178 
 
 or when he conquers in the little battle [ of the 
 chequered board. 
 
 Son of Urien % thy place is here. In the strife 
 of blood Owen and Meurig were inseparable ; — 
 twin lions ! they fought side by side, and at the 
 feast shall they be divided? Beset with foes, the 
 barbed steel once reached Meurig's breast; Owen 
 spread his shield before his wounded friend. The 
 G wyddelians saw his ravens §, and fled ; he pur- 
 sued, and the Cynhen ran reel with blood. Urien, 
 thy fame is with the bard ; but Urien can never 
 die whilst Owen lives. 
 
 f Out of bach, little, and cammawn, battle, sprang lack' 
 gammon ; and there can be no doubt but the game here alluded 
 to was chess j a game that, I was told by my antiquarian friend, 
 the Worshipful John Lewis, Esq. of Munarnawan, in Pem- 
 brokeshire, was understood by the most unlettered peasants of 
 Cemaes, as if inherited from the time of Meurig. To this gen- 
 tleman's communications from a finely illuminated pedigree, that 
 traces his family to Arthur's illustrious guest, I am indebted for 
 these notes. And the coat armour which Mr. Lewis bears, viz. 
 azure, a lion rampant in an orle of roses, or, may solve the ex- 
 pression used above, of a lion among roses. 
 
 j This was a prince of the northern Britons, who came to 
 South Wales to the aid of the sons of Cunedda, to expel the 
 Gwyddelians, and was recompensed with a portion of territory in 
 Carmarthenshire; and some say he built Caercynhen Castle, a 
 very strong fortress on a high rock above the river Cynhen. 
 
 § The cognisaunce of his shield was three ravens, the coat 
 still borne by Mr. Rice, of Newton, and all the other families 
 who boist their descent from him. 
 
179 
 
 Stourhead, November S, 1807, 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 After a night of delicious repose, in 
 which I discharged all my arrear of sleep, I rose 
 with recruited spirits, and a mind in harmony 
 with every thing around me. I had often heard 
 of the inn at Stourhead being delightfully situ- 
 ated, and well conducted ; but I found it exceed 
 every expectation that could have been raised ; 
 for when I opened my windows in the morning, 
 it was like magic, for the night being dark when 
 we arrived, we could have formed no idea of the 
 scene which presented itself in the morning, as it 
 looks into the most charming part of the gardens 
 and pleasure-grounds, which come up to, and, as 
 it were, mix with the village, consisting of the 
 church, the inn, and a few neat houses, overrun 
 with the climatis and the Chinese rose, then in 
 rich bloom, inhabited by the steward and the mar- 
 ried servants of Stourhead. 
 
 After breakfast we debated how we were to 
 commence our operations for the day, and it was 
 determined to visit the house and its paintings, 
 &c. first ; particularly as the weather, there hav- 
 ing a good deal of snow fallen in the night, was 
 unfavourable for viewing the pleasure-grounds. 
 
 The mansion-house of Stourhead is built on an 
 extensive lawn, having a very parkish appear- 
 ance, with here and there a few line old trees of 
 various sorts, intermixed with hawthorns of large 
 
180 
 
 growth, and commands a most extensive, pic- 
 turesque, and rich view in front, charmingly di- 
 versified, including several very delightful objects ; 
 such as the woods and broken grounds in the far- 
 thest distance, round Wardour Castle ; in the se- 
 cond, the cheerful variety of Knoyle, the hill of 
 Shaftesbury, woods and tower of Fon thill ; and 
 still nearer the eye, the finely undulating ridge 
 •crowned with the castle . of Mere, several fine co- 
 nical hills ; the whole bounded on one side by the 
 soft and sinuous outline of the downs terminating 
 there, and producing, by contrast with the richly 
 wooded landscape they skirt, the most pleasing 
 effect. The present mansion does not occupy the 
 site of that once inhabited by the Stourton fa- 
 mily, but another higher up on the lawn, better 
 chosen, and was built anew after a design of 
 Colin Campbell, the greatest architect of his day, 
 which was published in his Vitruvius Britannicus; 
 but two wings have within these few years been 
 added by the present possessor, Sir Richard 
 Hoare. The architecture is simple, and in the 
 Italian style. Few houses can boast of a hand- 
 somer ground-flooT, or four such rooms as the 
 entrance-hall, picture-gallery, library, and saloon. 
 To avoid the inconvenience of a show-house, so 
 that the family might not be liable to intrusion, 
 or the visitors to disappointment, it has been di- 
 vided into two compartments, separated, as it 
 were, by the entrance-hall and staircase. The di- 
 vision to the right, dedicated to show and the 
 public, contain? all the most valuable original pic- 
 
181 
 
 tures, &c. Sec. ; that on the left, dedicated to 
 study, convenience, and domestic comfort, con- 
 tains only the inferior pictures. The whole col- 
 lection merits a catalogue raisonne, and I wish 
 I was equal to the task ; but I shall not expose 
 myself by affecting to speak of the masters, 
 whose names, perhaps, I never heard of be- 
 fore, as my acquaintance, or of the merits of 
 their works, as if I was qualified to decide 
 on them ; to do which properly, requires ta- 
 lents I am conscious that I do not possess, 
 and cannot presume to challenge. However, 
 as I know you are an amateur, having from your 
 childhood lived among fine paintings, and a little, 
 of an artist too, I shall not pass them over totally 
 in silence, but shall enumerate the most remark- 
 able, and tell you, perhaps, how I was affected 
 by some of them. 
 
 The entrance-hall is appropriately hung with 
 family pictures. The next room, to the right, in 
 the show wing, is filled entirely with landscapes, 
 among which three are particularly deserving of 
 notice, viz. a landscape by Claude Lorrain; ano- 
 ther by Gaspar Poussin ; and a night-scene by 
 Rembrandt. There are also two fine pictures by 
 Vernet; two by Wilson, whose delightful imita- 
 tion of nature struck even me ; how much more 
 then Jones, whose admiration was heightened by 
 nationality, and not very remote kindred ; one by 
 Marlow; two by Canaletti ; and a most charming 
 one representing a morning scene, by our coun- 
 tryman Gainsborough. This is called the cabinet 4 
 
 3* S 
 
182 
 
 room, from a most sumptuous cabinet that occu- 
 pies a recess on one side of it, that originally be- 
 longed to Pope Sixtus V. and ornamented with 
 his own portrait, and twenty others of the Peretti 
 family, to which he was allied. Its structure, 
 which is remarkably elegant, involves every order 
 and style of architecture, and among its superb 
 decorations its variegated inlay displays specimens 
 of all the richest marbles, and of all the known 
 precious stones in the world, the diamond excepted. 
 The festooned curtain of blue velvet, richly fringed 
 with gold, issuing out of a gilt mitre over the 
 centre of the arched recess, and falling in fine 
 folds of drapery on each side, is disposed of 
 with great taste and effect. In the ante-room 
 leading to the gallery there is one most superb 
 picture by Carlo Dolce, representing Herodias 
 with John the Baptist's head on a charger: the 
 face of the beautiful female figure is finely charac- 
 teristic of the passions that might be supposed to 
 divide her breast; vindictive exultation almost 
 subdued by pity : the appearance of death in the 
 head is beyond what I thought the power of co- 
 lours could have produced ; and the execution of 
 the whole picture is admirably delicate. Here is 
 also a most spirited battle-piece by Borgognorie, 
 and a dignified portrait of a cardinal by Domeni- 
 chino, in his best manner. We now enter the 
 noble apartment dedicated to the works of the 
 Italian school; among which some may justly be 
 esteemed chef-d'ceuvres of the art. The Rape of 
 the Sabines, by Nicolo Poussim, is esteemed the 
 
183 
 
 mest work he ever executed ; and a smaller pic- 
 ture by the same master, representing Hercules 
 between Virtue and Vice, does not yield to the 
 larger for chasteness and correctness of design. 
 Next to this picture is a Holy Family, by Fra 
 Bartolomeo, a cotemporary of Raphael, who flou- 
 rished from the year 1469 to 1517. A large alle- 
 gorical picture by Carlo Maratti, in which his 
 own portrait, as well as that of his patron, the 
 Marquis Pallavicini, are introduced. The centre 
 compartment of the room is filled by a very large 
 and magnificent picture by Lodovico Cigoli, 
 painted in the year 1605 ; the subject, the Adora- 
 tion of the Magi ; it is in the highest preserva- 
 tion, and its colours as vivid and brilliant as if 
 painted yesterday. The next picture that attracts 
 attention, and that most forcibly, is the finest 
 representation I ever expect to see of a female 
 suppliant, Cleopatra on her knees at the feet of 
 the stern, phlegmatic, cold-blooded Augustus; a 
 figure so fascinatingly beautiful, in an attitude so 
 exquisitely touching, that if such was Cleopatra, 
 who would not have said with Anthony. " All 
 for Love, or the World well lost? 1 ' A Madona 
 and Child, by Guercino, has great claim on no- 
 tice; as have a fine altar-piece, by Andrea del 
 Sarto ; an old woman's head by Murillo ; the por- 
 trait of a o*irl in the character of St. Agnes, by 
 Titian; the Marriage of St. Catharine, by Fa- 
 roccio; a Holy Family, by Leonardo da Vinci; the 
 Flight into Egypt, by Carlo Maratti; and two 
 little choice pictures by Schidoni. But the pic- 
 
 x 4 
 
184 
 
 ture that of all others most struck me represents the 
 Prophet Elijah restoring the dead child to life, by 
 Rembrandt ; which for interest of feeling, truth of 
 expression, and fine execution, may rival any 
 work of the same master; and I think I may 
 yenture to challenge the whole school of painting 
 to produce any thing superior to the character of 
 the Prophet, as expressive of the confidence of 
 faith and the fervour of prayer. Two large mo- 
 dern pictures have been admitted into this gal- 
 lery, and, for the credit of the artist who exe- 
 cuted them, they do not disgrace their situation 
 among their elders ; the subject of one is the 
 Shipwrecked Sailor-boy, from an idea of Thom- 
 son the poet; the subject of the other the Death 
 of the Dragon by Red-cross Knight, from Spenser ; 
 both productions of the pencil of Mr. H. Thomp^ 
 son, of the Royal Academy. 
 
 Repassing the hall you come to an ante-chamr 
 ber, lighted by a cupola, which separates it from 
 the great room called the saloon, and includes the 
 staircase, whose walls are hung round with very 
 choice landscapes, over which drops a curtain of 
 green silk, to preserve them from the sun. Be- 
 yond this room, ancl entered by a door exactly 
 facing that which leads to the hall, is a most 
 splendid ropm, the saloon, near fifty feet long, if 
 I might judge from my paces,, and of propor- 
 tionable width and height, used occasionally as 
 a dining-parlour for large companies, and other 
 great entertainments. The ceiling is richly and 
 singularly ornamented; all its small divisions 
 
being thrown into perspective : it is furnished in 
 ev r ery way with a style of magnificence to suit 
 the character of the apartment. The pictures are 
 very large, and were painted to fit the different 
 pannels of the room. The chimney-piece, of the 
 finest white marble, is uncommonly superb, as to 
 design and execution ; but every thing, to the 
 doors, and the minutest article of furniture, is in 
 true proportion. 
 
 When the door of this room, which faces the 
 great window at the end of it, happens to be 
 open, as well as the opposite door of the hall, in 
 which state I saw them, the effect is uncommonly 
 striking, as you see at once the whole depth of 
 the house, and gain a most pleasing view on 
 either side, through the window of the saloon, of 
 an open part of the grounds, studded with a few 
 trees, terminating by the obelisk, backed by noble 
 woods, and in front of that richly diversified pro- 
 spect already described. 
 
 A great deal of the day was consumed, as we 
 could not be said to go over our ground cursorily, for 
 we were so fortunate as to join a lady and gentle- 
 man who in their way to Bath had stopped that 
 morning to see Stourhead. The gentleman seemed 
 a great amateur and critic in pictures, and was 
 very diffuse in his comments on the different mas* 
 ters, seemingly with perfect knowledge of his 
 subject; and to this accident, perhaps, you are 
 indebted for such an account of the pictures as I 
 have given you. He gave us several curious anec- 
 dotes of the different painters, particularly those 
 
ISff 
 
 of our own country; he said Wilson was ori- 
 ginally a portrait-painter, and that it was to Ca- 
 naletti at Venice, who first discovered his talent 
 for landscape, and encouraged him to apply to 
 that line, that we owe the boast of having pro- 
 duced so celebrated an artist ; and yet so low was 
 the taste for painting in Wilson's early time, that 
 he heard from the only pupil that Wilson ever had, 
 a Mr. Jones, that Cock the auctioneer, the Christie 
 of that day, for one of Wilson's best pictures, 
 that now would fetch five hundred pounds, could 
 get no more (and thought that a great price) than 
 ten pounds. 
 
 Finding that the library, of which we had heard 
 so much, was occupied by the learned Baronet the 
 whole morning, the day having proved unfavour- 
 able to the sports of the field, but that the follow- 
 ing day it might be seen, we attended our con- 
 noisseur companion and his lady to their chaise, 
 and after traversing the lawn, then sprinkled with 
 a flock of South- down sheep, from one lodge to the 
 other, both possessing a character of the most ele- 
 gant simplicity, we returned to our inn to order our 
 dinner, meaning, while that was getting ready, to 
 make use of the little daylight left in a stroll not 
 too distant; yet the weather not improving, but 
 growing worse, we were obliged to limit our ope- 
 rations of the day to what we had already seen, 
 and reconcile ourselves to confinement for the rest 
 of it within doors, as it began to snow. How- 
 ever, we had this satisfaction, that our accommo- 
 dations were something more than comfortable ; 
 % 
 
187 
 
 the res culinaria, were we even epicures, not ob- 
 jectionable; and the wine most excellent; over 
 which, after shutting out the storm, with the aid 
 of a fine fire of Radstock coal, we truly enjoyed 
 ourselves. We conversed on various topics ; and 
 among- others, fetch-candles, ghosts, Welsh lan- 
 guage, and literary impostors, had a share of dis- 
 cussion. Having exhausted our stock of conver- 
 sation, we betook ourselves to our journals and 
 particular studies ; Jones, to arrange his botanical 
 acquisitions; and I, to examine my late purchase of 
 the Shakespearian manuscripts, and finish the 
 perusal of Sir Richard Hoare's Tour through Ire- 
 land, the companion of my travels. 
 
 Among the fragments ascribed to Shakespeare, 
 I have been much struck with several of the little 
 poetical pieces, full of quaint and brilliant con- 
 ceits, and smacking strongly of the great drama- 
 tist's playful manner. But the most interesting 
 portion of it consists of letters that passed be- 
 tween him, Sir Christopher Hatton, Sir Philip 
 Sidney, Lord Southampton, Richard Sadleir, 
 Henry Cuffe, &c. ; part of a journal, like most 
 journals, carried on for a month together, then 
 suspended during a period of four or rive 
 years ; and memoirs of his own time written by 
 himself. Some of the items are uncommonly 
 curious, as they give you not only the costume 
 of the age he lived in, but let you into his 
 private ami domestic life, and the rudiments of 
 his vast conception. As the volume professing 
 it. elf to I e a. transcript of an old manuscript eoi- 
 
188 
 
 lection found in a state of such decay as to reildef 
 it necessary, on account of a curious process 
 made use of, to sacrifice the original to the copy, 
 is prefaced with a short history of its discovery, 
 and the proofs of its authenticity; I believe I 
 shall, if ever I succeed in my Hwlfordd adven- 
 ture, and have leisure to arrange it, publish the 
 whole ; yet in the mean time I will not so far 
 tantalize you as not to treat you with a specimen 
 of this curious farrago, but shall tack on to this 
 letter a small sample of the prose and verse. 
 
 Preparing to retire, I have closed the Irish 
 Tour, and am induced, from a passage I have just 
 been reading, to ask you if the disgraceful custom 
 of taking vails, censured in it, is so generally pre- 
 valent with you. Sir Richard Hoare says, " It 
 has been justly remarked, and with credit to the 
 higher class of society in Ireland, that it is easier 
 for a stranger to find his way into their houses 
 than out of them. Abolish the vale parting token 
 which the menial servants in many houses expect, 
 and Irish hospitality is complete." But I fear that 
 it is not in Ireland alone that this most illiberal of 
 all customs is found to obtain. Notwithstanding 
 the abolition of it in many houses over England, to 
 my knowledge, as it is not universal, the root of 
 the evil remains, and, like all noxious growth, is 
 known to spread apace. To get rid of it effec- 
 tually, the whole kingdom must concur in a reso- 
 lution to extirpate it, for, if but one fibre is left, 
 it will again propagate. It is in vain for one spi- 
 rited farmer to use every possible method to rid 
 
189 
 
 his land of moles, if his neighbours around are 
 not equally attentive, and disposed to combat the 
 evil ; and so it is with respect to vails ; the root- 
 ing it out should become a national object, or the 
 inconvenience will never be removed. The gen- 
 tlemen of Norfolk once, at the great session, took 
 it into consideration, and at that public season of 
 meeting fell on such resolutions as freed the 
 county from this odious tax on hospitality. Oh ! 
 that all counties would follow such a laudable 
 example * ! 
 
 My botanical companion, as well as myself, is 
 more under the influence of the poppy than any 
 other plant, at present ; so adieu for to-night, and 
 believe me ever 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 Out of a Manuscript Collection of Pieces in Prose 
 and Verse, said to be written by Shakespeare 
 to his Wife and others. 
 
 WITH A RINGE IX FORME OF A SERPENT, A GIFT TO 
 HIS BELOVYD ANNA, FROM W. S. 
 
 Withinn this goulden circlette's space, 
 
 Thie yvorie fingers form'd to clippe, 
 How manie tender vows have place, 
 
 Seal'd att the altaur on mie lippe. 
 
 * The placard they published was to this effect : — ff January 1, 
 1766. — In pursuance of a regulation proposed and agreed to by 
 the grand jury and principal gentlemen of the county of Nor- 
 folk, the custom of giving vails to servants ceases in that county." 
 
190 
 
 Then as thie finger it shall presse, 
 O ! bee its magicke not confined,, 
 
 And let this sacred hoope noe lesse 
 Have force thie faithfull hart to binde. 
 
 Nor though the serpent's forme it beare, 
 Embleme mie fond conceipt to sute, 
 
 Dred thou a foe in ambushe theare 
 To tempt thee to forbidden frute. 
 
 The frute that Hymen in our reche 
 
 By Heven's first commaund hath placed, 
 
 Holy love, without a breche 
 
 Of anie law maie pluck and taste : 
 
 Repeted taste — and yett the joye 
 Of such a taste will neaver cloie, 
 So that oure appetits wee bringe 
 Withinn the cumpass of this ringe. 
 
 A LETTER INSCRIBED " TO MISTRESS JUDITH HATHE- 
 WAY, WITH MIE HARTIE COMMENDATIONS." 
 
 GOOD COZEN JUDITH, 
 
 I am out of necessitie to enact the part 
 of secretaire to my wife, or shee would have payd 
 her owne dett ; for in trying to save a little robin 
 from the tiger jawe of puss, her foote slipped, 
 and her righte waiste therebie putt out of joynte, 
 which hath bin soe paynfull as to bring on a 
 feaver, and has left her dellicat frame verie weake 
 and feeble, wherefore I have takin her a countrre 
 loging, in a howse adjoyning the paddock of Sir 
 Waulter Rawleigh, at Iselinton, where that great 
 man shut in, often regales himself with a pipe of 
 
191 
 
 his new plant called tibacca, in a morning, whilst 
 the whole world is too narrowe for his thought, 
 whiche I hear helpeth it muclie, and may be said 
 for a trueth to enable him to drawe light from 
 smoke. In an evnyng he sumtymes condesends 
 to fumigate my rurale arboure w r ithe it, and be- 
 tweene evric blast makes newe discovries, and 
 contrives newe settelmentes in mie lyttle globe. 
 Mie Romeo and Juliett, partlie a child of yours, 
 for in its cradle you had the fondlyng of it, is 
 nowe oute of leding strynges, and newlie launched 
 into the world, and will shortlie kiss your faire 
 hand. I think mie Nurse must remynd you of 
 ould Debborah, at Charlecot ; I owne shee was 
 mie moddel; and in mie Apotticary you will dis- 
 cover ould Gastrell, neere the churche at Stratford ; 
 but to make amencles for borrowing him for mie 
 scene, I have got him sevrall preserved serpents, 
 stuffed byrds, and other rare foraign productions, 
 from the late circumnavigators. 
 
 Thankes for the brawne, which younge Ben, 
 who suppd last nighte with us, commended hugelie, 
 liis stomach prooving he did not flater, and drank 
 the helth of the provyder in a cupp of strong 
 Stratford. 
 
 You are a good soule for moistning mie mul- 
 berrie-trce this scorching wether, the which you 
 maye remembre that I planted when last with you, 
 rather too late, after the cuckow had sung on 
 Anna's birth-daie, and I liope you maie live to 
 gether benies from it, but not con tine w unweddid 
 till then. 
 
192 
 
 Have you gott my littel sonnett on planting it? 
 for if you have not, it is lost, like a thousand 
 other scraps of mie pen. And soe poor Burton, 
 my ould schoolmaster, is gone to that " bourne 
 from which noe traviller returns :" I fancy I still 
 see him, when every Munday morning, as was 
 constantlie his custome, he gave a newe pointe to 
 his sprygges of byrch, growen blunted in the ser- 
 vice of the forgone week ; a practise felt throw 
 the whole schoole, from top to bottome 
 
 You maie soone look to hear from your crippled 
 
 kinswoman, whose limm is muche restored by Sir 
 
 Christopher Hatton's poultise ; soe fare ye well, 
 
 and lett us live in your remembraunce, as you as- 
 
 suredlie doe in that of your sinceare and lovyng 
 
 Cozen, 
 
 William Shakspere. 
 
 From my Loginge at Iselinton, 
 
 June l%mo, 155 . . . 
 
 Stourton, November 9, I807, 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 The rosy-fingered morn opened my cur- 
 tains, and presented me with a view illumined with 
 sunshine, the snow that fell yesterday evening- 
 having been washed away by showers in the night, 
 which had likewise mollified the air, and restored 
 a parting farewell of summer. At this season of 
 
193 
 
 the year I never opened my eyes on a more lovely 
 or enchanting scene ; for, to say nothing of the 
 autumnal tints the remaining foliage wore, so 
 abundantly scattered are the laurels and other 
 evergreens over the grounds of Stourhead, that 
 the withering hand of winter can scarcely be seen 
 or felt. Wishing to avail ourselves of this o-leam 
 of sunshine, contrary to our usual habits, being 
 both of us great loungers at breakfast, we hurried 
 over that repast, having laid our plan so as to visit 
 the remaining part of the house, agreeably to ap- 
 pointment with the housekeeper, who shows it 
 during her master's absence, this morning, and 
 afterwards some of the home scenes of this 
 charming place, which to see it as it deserves re- 
 quires at least four or five days, and therefore we 
 were resolved not to put ourselves under any restraint 
 as to time. We walked up from the inn of the 
 village, and entering the turretted gateway at the 
 western lodge, we pursued the same approach to 
 the house that we had taken before. On entering, 
 we were soon attended by the gentlewoman who 
 shows it, and were admitted into that part of the 
 mansion appropriated to the family, to study, and 
 to domestic comforts. The first room you enter 
 is a drawing-room, of the same dimensions with 
 that containing the cabinet, having a similar re* 
 cess, filled with an organ. It is hung round with 
 very fine paintings, but of an inferior order to 
 those in the other wing; a door opens from it to 
 a comfortably proportioned apartment, the usual 
 dining-parlour, the space for the sideboard being 
 
194 
 
 separated by columns. It is hung with highly- 
 finished pictures in crayons ; and within this, two 
 smaller but elegant rooms, occupied by young Mr. 
 Iioare ; the one as a library, and the other as a 
 music-room : over the chimney-piece of the first 
 there is a very fine painting of the young gentle- 
 man when a child, playing, by Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds, in high preservation, and of which I think 
 there has been a print. Another door from the 
 drawing-room we left, opens to an antechamber 
 connecting it with the library, a most magnificent 
 room, and suitably furnished with chairs, tables, 
 and carpet, a Fantique, of the most classical pat^ 
 tern, having one end lighted by three noble win- 
 dows, opening to a retired lawn, where you see 
 pheasants and hares sporting together as familiarly 
 as if they were domesticated. Over the lower 
 tier of windows, and filling ail the semicircular 
 space above, is a grand display of painted glass, 
 with figures as large as life, representing the school 
 of Athens, and executed by Mr. Egginton, of 
 Birmingham. The celebrated design from which 
 it is taken was painted in fresco, by Raphael d' 
 Urbino, on the wall of the Vatican palace at 
 Rome ; and for composition and masterly execu- 
 tion has ever been esteemed one of the finest pro- 
 ductions of that great master's pencil. The right 
 angle represents a groupe of an aged man showing 
 certain: mathematical figures on a tablet, and ex- 
 plaining them to four young men, who are attend- 
 ing to him with the strongest signs of admiration. 
 Bramante, the architect, is here portrayed in the 
 character of Archimedes, and the hindmost figure 
 
195 
 
 leaning over him is meant for Frederic Gonzago, 
 Duke of Mantua. 
 
 In the centre compartment are the characters 
 of the following philosophers, viz. Pythagoras, 
 Epictetus, Empedocles, and Terpander. The most 
 conspicuous of these is Pythagoras, who is en- 
 gaged with great eagerness in writing. Empedo- 
 cles, looking over his book, and apparently taking 
 notes from it; Terpander; and behind him the 
 graceful figure in white of Francesco Maria della 
 Eovere, Duke of Urbino, form the pyramid of this 
 groupe. 
 
 On the other side, absorbed in contemplation, 
 is Epictetus ; near the pedestal, and behind the 
 head of Empedocles, is the beautiful profile of 
 Aspasia. The other characters in this fine groupe 
 are unknown. 
 
 In the left angle is the figure of the cynic Dio- 
 genes ; and in the back ground is the head of Ra- 
 phael and his master, Pietro Perugino. On the 
 whole, nothing can be more highly appropriate to 
 the situation it here occupies, than the form and 
 subject of the painting. The collection of books 
 is extensive, and systematically arranged, undei 
 the heads of " Auctores Classici ;" " Antiquitates, 
 Inscriptions, Numismata ;" " Foreign History ;" 
 and il British Topography." The collection both 
 of Italian and British topography is one of the 
 completcst in England. The chimney-piece, oY 
 white statuary marble, is a choice specimen of the 
 powers of the chisel ; and the figures of the 
 Muses in the centre compartment of it are of the 
 
 o 2 
 
\96 
 
 most delicate ..workmanship. Over the fire-place is 
 the fine portrait of Pietro Lando, Doge of Venice, in 
 the year 1545, by Titian ; and on each side of it a 
 series of most beautiful drawings, of buildings, pa- 
 geants, and processions at Venice, by Canalettr, 
 The antechamber contains miscellaneous publica- 
 tions, and books of more general reference. 1 
 was informed (but this is a shocking anti-climax), 
 that the basement-story, for its character, as in- 
 volving every comfort and convenience, is as well 
 worth seeing as any part of the house ; and that 
 the Baronet's cellars are a model of perfection in 
 that way, and are copiously furnished with the 
 richest produce of the grape* 
 
 Leaving the house, I fall into a walk leading 
 towards the obelisk, which passed, I enter, through 
 a gate, on a grassy terrace of the most velvety 
 sward I ever trod, extending for some miles, fol- 
 lowing the summit of a hill that bounds the vales 
 which form the so much admired pleasure-grounds 
 of Stourhead. The surface of this noble terrace 
 is as level and fine as if it was mowed, from beings 
 kept constantly fed by a large flock of South-down 
 sheep wandering over it; and so clean, that it will 
 not soil a lady's silk shoe ; in short, for a delight- 
 ful promenade and ride in a carriage, or on horse- 
 back, I may venture to say there is nothing to 
 rival it in the kingdom. Its course is an easy 
 sweep, which in point of breadth expands and 
 contracts in different reaches. At the end of this 
 sweeping line, at a point where it takes a sharper 
 turn, stands Alfred's Tower, a triangular build- 
 
197 
 
 ing, erected by Henry Hoare, Esq. grandfather 
 of the present Baronet, to commemorate the spot 
 where it is supposed that Alfred, after he had long 
 continued under a cloud, broke out and erected 
 his standard successfully against the Danes; 
 and therefore to this day called King's Settlehill, 
 in token of that event. It is built of brick, one 
 hundred and sixty feet' high, and from its top, 
 which we ascended to, commands one of the most 
 extensive views, perhaps, in England : we saw 
 Glastonbury Tor, and into Wales, distinctly. In a 
 Gothic niche, over the door, is a statue of Alfred, 
 and under it this inscription ; 
 
 Alfred the Great, 
 
 A. D. 8?0, on this Summit 
 
 Erected his Standard 
 
 Against Danish Invaders. 
 
 To him we owe the Origin of Juries, 
 
 The Establishment of a Militia, 
 
 The Creation of a Naval Force. 
 
 .Alfred, the Light of a benighted Age, 
 
 Was a Philosopher and a Christian, 
 
 The Father of his People, 
 
 The Founder of the English 
 
 Monarchy and Liberty. 
 
 The character of Alfred I have ever contem- 
 plated with admiration and astonishment. Tq 
 think that in a short life, subject to hourly pain, 
 harassed by formidable foes, and in the twilight 
 of learning, he should have acquued so much 
 knowledge, and carried into execution so many pa- 
 triotic plans, would almost exceed credibility, 
 
 o 3 
 
198 
 
 unless so indubitably attested. At approaching 
 this illustrious monument, I felt an awful venera- 
 tion, little short of sacred, and Jones, whose 
 
 " Eye I saw in a fine frenzy rolling/' 
 gave vent to his raptures in the following 
 
 IMPROMPTU. 
 
 Whoe'er thou art who dar'st approach this pile, 
 
 And feelest not thy bosom all on flame, 
 Boast as thou wilt alliance with this isle, 
 
 Renounce thy title to a Briton's name i 
 For 't is to him whose image meets thine eye, 
 
 The Christian hero, Alfred, that we owe 
 Freedom and right, than which beneath the sky 
 
 Heaven has not richer blessings to bestow. 
 Hoahe thankful felt th' enthusiast patriot's fire, 
 
 This sacred spot with awful reverence trod, 
 And bade the votive fabric to aspire, 
 
 An off 'ring to his country and his God :*— 
 For when the trophy to ihe man wajs rais'd, 
 Twas Heaven, who lent him, in the end was prais'd. 
 
 The terrace, that here takes, an abrupt bend tft 
 the left, still continues in its dressed state for 
 some distance farther on, though not so broad, 
 but confined more like an avenue ; yet I hear that 
 the possessor of this line place, whose taste and 
 spirit keep pace with each other, has it in con- 
 templation to extend his ride in continuation of 
 the terrace, over the summit of his boundary hills, 
 for its whole length, so as to take in a circuit of 
 nine or ten miles. 
 
 So much time had been taken up in our visit to 
 
199 
 
 the house in the morning, and so delighted we 
 ■were to saunter where there was so much bcauty 
 to admire, in our way to, and round and up Al- 
 fred's Tower, that we agreed to abridge our walk, 
 as the shades of evening were advancing, and 
 make for our inn the nearest road. Wherefore, 
 retracing our steps so far, we turned down the 
 vale in which the Stour rises, from its six foun- 
 tains ; and not wishing to forestall the pleasure of 
 examining the lower and most interesting part of 
 that vale, where are concentrated the greatest at- 
 tractions that the grounds of Stourhead can boast 
 of, we turned up an oblique path, that brought us 
 again out at the obelisk. Our dinner was well 
 dressed, as usual, and our rambles had begot us 
 an appetite that was not disposed to quarrel with 
 the cook, and fitted us for enjoying our bottle of 
 port by the Radstock blaze. Our conversation, 
 as you may well suppose, chiefly turned on what 
 we had seen ; books, pictures, and painters, 
 claimed a share ; but Alfred's life we discussed cri- 
 tically and minutely, in doing which Jones la- 
 mented much that there was no translation of the 
 Saxon Chronicle into Engljsh, with, copious notes, 
 and that the old Saxon language was not more 
 studied; by the help of that well understood, 
 he said, numerous errors would be corrected, and 
 contradictions reconciled in our history; we 
 should draw our information purer from the spring 
 itself, than from the polluted streams at a dis- 
 tance from the source. He said he hudalwa\> 
 been puzzled to account for the Stour ton ann>. 
 
 o 4 
 
200 
 
 till he had heard, since his visit to this country, 
 what was its origin ; he was therefore highly gra- 
 tified by seeing the spot that bears in nature what 
 the Stourton family have represented on their es- 
 cutcheon ; and this was a bearing very character- 
 istic of their great command, and particularly of 
 their rights in the fishery of the Stour, co-exten- 
 sive with its run : this was literally tracing their 
 consequence to its source ; few armorial cogni- 
 zances have as much meaning as this, when once 
 explained. He questioned if the Stourton crest 
 was not a pun, being a demi monk, and might have 
 been assumed on a marriage of one of the Stour- 
 tons with a Le Moine, by which their posses- 
 sions were much increased* and the lady be- 
 came half a monk only, her better half being 
 then a Stourton. Jones having picked up this 
 morning a rare plant he had been long in 
 search of, is impatient to lay it out, by a pro- 
 cess he makes use of, that though dried it will 
 never appear shrivelled ; so while the botanist 
 is busy in his hortus siccus, I will send you ano- 
 ther extract from my Shakespeare's unfading gar- 
 land, viz. a few items from his journal, and a 
 sample of his own Memoirs by himself. Adieu, 
 and believe me 
 
 Yours, &c. \ 
 
 lOmo April 1595. Neere noondaye, and but 
 juste stirringe, haveing* tasted noe sleepe till after 
 
201 
 
 sunrise, mie ehamhere and bedde havcing Been 
 greevouslie infested with fleas, which never wcare 
 remembred to sw-arme soe abundantlie before, the 
 whole kingdome over. Sandie countreyes more 
 overrunne with this little bloode sucking varinin 
 then others, which was confenned by that which 
 mie noble and trulie liberall patrone mie Lorde of 
 Southamton, related yesterdaye morning of manie 
 people within this moneth dying of a flea feaver 
 neere the Erie of Kent's, att a smale vy liege 
 called Syiveshoe, beeing a soyle composed of 
 sande. 
 
 Mie Lorde honored mee by callinge agen to- 
 daye, and returned me mye tragedie of Richarde 
 III. which he was pleased to speake of in straynei 
 of high prayse; not that I have haulf fynished 
 mie crooke-backed tirante. Flea-bitten was wonte 
 to be a terme of lowe reproche, but it can be no 
 longer accomted soe, for mie Lord of Southamton 
 com play ned noe lesse than me of the plague of 
 the past nighte; and I noted his linen, that it 
 must goe with noe richer blazonrie then his poore 
 fellowe-sufYrers to the bucking ; and the flea, this 
 Jitle chartered lybertine, as impudentlie runs his 
 capers in the Qeen's Majestie's ruffe, as Mistress 
 Shakspere's. 
 
 £5mo Sept. 1590. The honorable goode ladie 
 the Countesse of Pembrok hath condescended to 
 Tequeste that I would sitt for mie pictore to a fo- 
 rainer, one Signior Succaro, who loges at the back 
 
202 
 
 of Ely Pallace. Her Majestie I have scene painted 
 by him, withe my Lord Southamton, and it is a 
 trulie rare creacion. 
 
 Out of Shakespeare's own Memoirs, by Himself. 
 
 Having an ernest desier to lerne forrain© 
 tonges, it was mie goode happ to have in mie 
 fathered howse an Ittalian, one Girolamo Albergi, 
 tho he went bye the name of Francesco Manzini, 
 a dier of woole ; but he was not what he wished 
 to passe for ; he had the breedinge of a gen til - 
 man, and was a righte sounde scholer. It was 
 he tough t me the littel Italian I know, and rubbid 
 up my Lattin ; we redd Bandello's Novells toge- 
 ther, from the which I getherid some delliceous 
 flowres to stick in mie dramattick poseys. He 
 was nevew to BattistoTibaldi, who made a transla- 
 cion of the Greek poete, Homar, into Ittalian, he 
 showed me a coppy of it givin him by hys kins- 
 man, ErcoloTibaldi. 
 
 He tould me his uncle's witt was nearer so 
 brylliaunt, and he neaver compoasid soe well as 
 when he was officiating att the shryne of one of 
 the foulest of all the Roman dieties, and had left 
 a large vollume of reflexiones whilst emploied after 
 this sorte, intituled, Pensieri digeriti. 
 
 Altho he trusted me with muche, yet he smo- 
 thered some secrettes whoose blazin was not to be 
 to eares of fleshe and blond, that dyed withe him. 
 
203 
 
 His whole storie known meethinkes would have 
 bin a riche tyssew for the Muses. By an Itallian 
 stansa tyed rownd withe a knott of awborn hayer 
 found hanging att hys brest, hys misfortun, and 
 thatt mysterie he studyed to throwe over it, was 
 oweing to an erlie passione for a fayer mayden at 
 Mantua, whiche urgid him to kill his rivalle in a 
 duell. 
 
 His knolege of dying woolle was nott that he 
 was broughte upp to the trade, butt from his 
 being deepe in all kindes of alkymy, wherewith 
 he was wont to say he could produse gould owt 
 of baser metalles, butt he would not increse the 
 miseryes of mankyncl What would yong Benn 
 have gy ven to have knowne hym ? 
 
 Stourton, November 10, 1807. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 A short summer has again commenced, 
 which, as you may imagine, contributes greatly 
 to the fascination of this enchanting place, though 
 in all weathers it has its charms; for in every 
 thing we see here, there is such a happy union of 
 elegance and comfort, such a provision against 
 the season, that leaves most fine places for five 
 months dreary and cheerless, as little of nature as 
 possible sacrificed to ostentation, and such an air 
 of tranquillity over the whole, and so many happy 
 
204 
 
 human faces occurring every where, arid even the 
 unreclaimed tenants of the wild mixing in your 
 path, fearless and tame, as in Eden ere sin had 
 entered ; there is no satiety, and you fancy your- 
 self in a better world. We hurried our favourite 
 repast, and so impatient was Jones for starting, 
 that he would not spare three minutes to boil his 
 second egg. Having settled our bill of fare for 
 dinner, and given the necessary direction for the 
 comforts of the evening, we sallied out with 
 spirits unclouded as the sky, and as light as the at- 
 mosphere then around us. We at first took the same 
 road as on the preceding mornings, entering the 
 turretted gateway, and falling into a walk on the left, 
 that leads from the house to the gardens, through 
 a grove of tall laurels, excluding all the landscape. 
 Nearly at the end of this laurel-sheltered walk, a 
 turn to the left brings you to a door that opens 
 into the walled gardens occupying the side of a 
 hill which faces the south, in a gradation of slopes. 
 in the first range is the green-house, or conserva- 
 tory, not overgrown, but well furnished with a 
 choice assemblage of plants, including a large 
 collection of heaths, arranged with great taste, 
 and externally covered with the evergreen rose 
 at that time in most luxuriant bloom. In the 
 next are the hot-houses for grapes, peaches, nec- 
 tarines, &c. seemingly in a most productive state. 
 There are no pines. Having seen the gardens, we 
 pursue a walk skirted on one side by some 
 of the most picturesque veterans of the forest J 
 and on the other by a beautiful lawn, lightly 
 
205 
 
 lightly clotted with trees, into which the library 
 opens, and over which, as I have already re- 
 marked, you see every morning a hundred phea- 
 sants, intermixed with hares, playing their gam- 
 bols with a confidence and familiarity that is de- 
 lightful. We then descend through a rich avenue 
 of laurels overshaded by the most majestic forest 
 trees of every sort and character, into the first 
 vale. But in order to make my account intelli- 
 gible, and for you to form a clearer estimate of 
 the extent and variety of the grounds at S tour- 
 head, you must know, that they comprise three 
 rallies, nearly parallel, yet by most happy insinu- 
 ations contracted and expanded so as to destroy any 
 monotonous uniformity, and each of a character 
 widely differing from the other. The first vale 
 we now enter, as nearest the house, you may sup- 
 pose, is more highly cultivated and decorated, 
 more under the dominion of art, and more in full 
 dress than the others ; for here chiefly are found 
 the temples, grottos, and other adventitious orna- 
 ments, yet all so happily disposed of, such elegant 
 and classical models of art, or chaste imitations of 
 nature, that no person of the smallest taste would 
 wish them fewer. Every thing that partook of 
 that fantastic order once too prevalent in the king- 
 dom, and by which, I am told, this line place had 
 been disfigured, such as pagodas, Chinese bridges, 
 &c. have been long since swept away by the pre- 
 sent gentleman, whose taste is too correct to ad- 
 mit of such deformities existing. At the foot of 
 the descent into this vale, a walk receives you 
 
206 
 
 that takes nearly a straight course on the margin 
 of the lake here covering the whole expanse of 
 the vale. The water is most remarkably clear, 
 and free from weeds, with its banks finely fringed 
 with laurel, alder, and the most grotesque growth 
 of every kind; and the hills on each side, richly 
 clad with trees, fall with a gentle slope towards it, 
 whilst its surface is enlivened by swans and abun- 
 dance of wild fowls of various sorts, which 
 through the season afford a regular supply for the 
 table ; nor is the water below unpeopled, as it pro* 
 duces carp, tench, and eels of an exquisite fla- 
 vour, so that the Baronet's bill of fare never need 
 lack fish, though those of the sea may not be pro* 
 cured ; which I am told with him rarely happens, * 
 so providently and methodically is every part of 
 his establishment conducted. Out of this walk a 
 turn of a few yards brings us to the ferry, where 
 there is a boat in summer to waft passengers over, 
 but is shut up in a boat-house in winter, so that 
 we were obliged to prosecute our walk on that 
 bide a considerable way, to enable us to get over 
 by land, and connect us with the corresponding 
 walk on the other side. This opposite walk, car- 
 ried over a fine lawny projection from the woody 
 hill above it, leads us into a covert of trees of 
 the most wild and entangled appearance, and so 
 intermixed as to conceal the lake, and the en- 
 trance into the retreat buried beneath their dark 
 shade, leaving imagination at work to picture 
 what you are to encounter. In the midst of this 
 matted umbrage a grotesque arch scarcely seen 
 
207 
 
 till entered, admits you into a subterraneous grotto, 
 where the eye loses sight of every thing but the 
 interior, lighted faintly by an opening in its roof, 
 and the ear hears nothing but the echo of your 
 own steps, and the murmuring lapse of waters. 
 The passage you enter at is rather narrow, but 
 soon expands into a wide circular space, whose 
 sides and roof represent as nearly as possible a 
 natural cavern, and on whose floor various kinds 
 of pebbles are so disposed of as to work a curious 
 mosaic. In a recess on one side, recumbent on a 
 couch of white marble, lies asleep a Naiad, of ex- 
 quisite workmanship, with water from behind 
 streaming in every direction over the figure, and 
 falling into a basin below, on whose margin, com- 
 posed of a white marble tablet, is inscribed Pope's 
 translation of the following Latin lines by Cardinal 
 Bern bo : 
 
 Hujus Nympha loci, sacri custodia fontis 
 Dormio, dum placidae sentio murmur aquae : 
 
 Parce precor, quisquis tangis cava marmora, somnum, 
 Rumpere, sive bibas, sive lavere, tace. 
 
 Nymph of the grot, these sacred streams I keep, 
 And to the murmur of the water sleep f 
 Oh ! spare my slumbers, gently tread the cave. 
 And drink in silence, or in silence lave. 
 
 I agree with Jones, that lave is a weak, if not 
 an improper word, and very unworthy Pope: a 
 pitiful shift for the sake of rhyme : I believe Pope 
 was the only person who ever used lave as a verb 
 neuter, a property that Johnson very servilely 
 allows it on the strength of this solitary instan 
 
£08 
 
 Opposite to the narrow passage leading out of this 
 part of the grotto, in a rocky caverned recess, 
 another fine figure to represent the river deity of 
 the Stour, in white marble, forcibly arrests the at- 
 tention in the midst of the most transparent 
 water, sitting on a rude fragment of rock,, pour- 
 irjg the silver stream from his urn. The whole of 
 this grotto, with its accompaniments, both within 
 and without, is so appropriate, that it is impos- 
 sible to visit it without feeling disposed to pay a 
 just tribute to the fine taste of the designer. After 
 emerging from this Egerian retreat, and revisiting 
 the day, a beautiful path, under the noblest hang- 
 ing woods, leads you by a picturesque Gothic 
 cottage, covered with various sorts of creepers, 
 woodbines, and clemates ; and a little farther on, 
 by a fountain trickling from a rocky aperture, 
 through moss~ intermingled with wild flowers, to 
 a gently swelling elevation, just above the lake 
 crowned with that superb building the Pantheon, 
 the exact model of the building of that name at 
 Rome. This noble edifice is a rotundo, thirty-six 
 feet in diameter, lighted from the dome, and fur- 
 nished with statues in niches all round it ; among 
 which some of the principal are, an antique of 
 Livia Augusta, in the character of Ceres ; a Flora ; 
 and a Hercules, by Itysbrack, the chef-d'oeuvre of. 
 his art. From the front of this building you have 
 a most charming view, composed of an assem- 
 blage of the chief beauties of the place : an am- 
 phitheatre of rich wood, embosoming, on the oppo- 
 site side of the lake, the beautiful temple of Flora, 
 
209 
 
 whose portico you catch, the cross, the village 
 and church, and the polished mirror of the lake 
 (as it was, when we saw it, unruffled by a breath) 
 reflecting the inverted landscape. After passing 
 the Pantheon, and having nearly made the circuit 
 of the lake, we came to and entered a grotesque 
 rocky adit, conducting us by rude broken -steps 
 over the archway leading from the village to the 
 hermit's; cell. Nothing can be more characteristic 
 of a hermicage than the profound seclusion of this 
 spot, from which you cannot hear 
 
 " The distant din the world can keep." 
 
 Still ascending, we reach the temple of Apollo, 
 or the Sun, after the model of that at Balbec, 
 placed on the summit of the hill above the 
 village. Ktere the view is very extensive, tak- 
 ing in the whole of the gardens and grounds 
 as far as Alfred's Tower, over the most, ma- 
 jestic gradation of wood that can be imagined. 
 In our ascent we went above the road, but in 
 our descent we pass under the road through 
 a subterraneous passage that brings us, by a 
 walk through picturesque spruce firs, rendered 
 more so by the circumstance of the leading 
 shoot having been destroyed, and an irregular 
 leader formed*, to the much celebrated cross, 
 
 * In SJr. Richard Hoare's Tour through Ireland, page 313, 
 you will find the mode made use of to produce this effect, 
 strongly recommended, and most satisfactorily illustrated by a 
 reference to the very trees here noticed. 
 
210 
 
 so placed as to appear from the village, just 
 without it, as a cross, that might originally 
 have belonged to it; but this exquisitely fine- 
 specimen of that species of building was* 
 brought from Bristol, and formerly stood near the 
 centre of the four principal streets when it was- 
 first erected, in 1373, and afterwards adorned- 
 with the statues of several of the English Kings, 
 benefactors to that city, prior and subsequent to it^ 
 erection, viz. King John, Henry III. Edward III. 
 and Edward IV. In the year 1633 it was taken 
 down, enlarged, and raised higher, when four 
 other statues were added, Henry VI. Elizabeth, 
 James I. and Charles I. It occupied its original 
 site till the year 17 o3,. when, to give more room 
 to the streets at their confluence, it w r as taken 
 down and removed to St. Augustin Street, College 
 Green, where it stood till it was finally taken 
 down and sold to Mr. Hoare, who thought so 
 highly of its merits as to be at the pains and ex- 
 pense of bringing it stone by stone to Stourhead, 
 notwithstanding the city of Bristol had disen- 
 franchised this ancient member of their corpora- 
 tion, and sent it packing with all its cargo of 
 royalty, leaving on record a memorable instance 
 of their taste, their gratitude, and their loyalty *. 
 After minutely surveying this elegant Gothic 
 relic, we turn to the left, and have an opportu- 
 
 * Jones informs me that he had been told by a profound 
 Welsh antiquary of a tradition existing in Pembrokeshire, that 
 tins cross was removed from Tenby, where it first stood, to 
 Bristol. 
 
211 
 
 nity of contrasting it with a very different style 
 of architecture in the Temple of Flora, whose 
 portico only had caught our eye from the opposite 
 side. It bears in front this inscription : " Procnl, 
 O procul este prof anl" Near this place I was 
 shown a fountain of the most translucent water I 
 ever beheld, as well as of the finest taste, whence 
 the drinking water of the house is supplied. In- 
 deed, all the water here is very excellent, the soil 
 that it passes through being sandy, acting as a 
 filter. Here we closed our excursions for this day, 
 and returned to our inn, where, after a most 
 sumptuous mental feast, on the recollection of 
 what we had seen, nature, that pander to the 
 body, put in her claim for a dish of South-down 
 mutton, to relish which nothing was wanting but 
 the laver and the samphire of Milford. After our 
 wine Jones treated me with some delicious music, 
 having set up his flute for the first time since we 
 have been here ; and feeling the inspiration of the 
 muse, he has, in his usual rapid way, thrown off 
 a song, set it to a favourite air, and sung it with 
 great taste; and now, while, to atone for the insi- 
 pidity of this letter (for I am very awkward at 
 local description), I am preparing to copy another 
 sample of my Shakespearian collection, the pro- 
 duction of a lady bard, Anna llatheway, after- 
 wards Mrs. Shakespeare (for she too, it seems', 
 had tasted of Helicon); Jones has promised me a 
 copy of his song, both which I shall inclose ; so 
 adieu, and believe me 
 
 Yours, At. 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 TO HER OWNE LOVYNGE WILLIE SHAmSPERE, 
 
 From mie throane in Willie's love, 
 Whitest moare than roialle state I proove, 
 Circledd proude withe mirtle crowne, 
 I onn Englaunde's queene looke downe. 
 
 And proude thie Anna welle maie bee, 
 For queenes themselves mighte envie mee, 
 Whoo scarse in pallacis cann flnde 
 Mie Willie's fonre, withe Willie's mynde. 
 
 By formes forbidd to telle theire smarte, 
 And of the canker ease the harte, 
 Withe them, alas ! too ofte 't is seene 
 The wooman sufferes for the queene. 
 
 But, oh ! withe us, moare blest than thay, 
 Heere happie nature hathe her swaye 5 
 , Wee looke, we love, and, voyde of shame, 
 As soone as kindledd owne the flame. 
 
 Anna Hatheway. 
 Bye Avone's syde. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 A truce to all this idle schooling I 
 Preach musty precepts to the old ; 
 
 For, whilst you counsel, youth is cooling, 
 Then keep it till 't is fairly cold. 
 
 To scare my steps from Pleasure's bowers, 
 I value not what greybeards say; 
 
 That aspics lurk beneath the flowers, 
 That dang'rous syrens line the way r 
 
 The ear that cautious prudence closes, 
 
 The syren's incantation scorns ; 
 Nor shall I fear to pluck the roses 
 
 If virtue wait to sheath the thorns* 
 
«1S 
 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, Stourton, November 13, I8O7. 
 
 Atter another day devoted to the lovely 
 grounds of Stourhead, and another proof of the 
 excellence of our inn, I sit down to recount 
 yesterday's adventures. After breakfast, in com- 
 pany with our landlord, who undertook to be our 
 Cicerone, we took the road leading under the gro- 
 tesque archway, over .which we yesterday ascended 
 to the hermitage and temple of the Sun, and 
 turning to the right, followed a screen of laurels 
 of the noblest growth I ever remember to have 
 seen, till we came to a gate, which having passed, 
 we kept to the left for the purpose of visiting 
 the principal keeper's house, pleasantly situ- 
 ated above a running water, and connected with 
 the kennels, that are so disposed of on a declivity 
 open to the south, as to admit of their being 
 flooded, and so easily kept clean and wholesome. 
 These were on each side of the house : one for the 
 pointers, the autumn dogs; and the other for the 
 spaniels, the winter dogs. The dwelling-house 
 over the door has this inscription : Fenatoribus atq, 
 amicis : and is decorated with prints representing 
 the sports of the field, exhibiting within and 
 without every thing that can render it pictu- 
 resque, comfortable, and appropriate; a remark 
 applicable to every thing appertaining to Stourhead, 
 and that cannot fail to be made by all who see it. 
 Hence by a gentle acclivity, under a beautifully 
 wooded knoll, we take the path towards an ele- 
 gant cottage fronting us, the residence of the cu- 
 rate of the parish, than which no situation can b« 
 
 r 3 
 
214 
 
 conceived more delightful ; with its courts, its 
 garden, its orchard, and all its little elegant ap- 
 pendages facing the sun, and looking on a view 
 that can never tire. You no sooner pass this cot- 
 tage than a scene grand and interesting bursts 
 upon you, consisting of a voluminous, and, seen at 
 that distance, an apparently connected, expanse of 
 woods, only of different heights, as the summits 
 they cover are more or less elevated, and the inter- 
 mediate breaks wider or narrower ; but in descrip- 
 tion as well as prospect, the pen, in giving an idea 
 of a general view, must foreshorten no less than 
 the pencil, otherwise the writer would be as un- 
 intelligible a& the draughtsman. In the centre of 
 these rich inequalities rises a beautiful conical 
 hill, having its sides clothed with pines of the 
 most majestic character. Beyond and above 
 these woods you catch the tower of Alfred, which 
 of itself, were it unaccompanied by so many other 
 striking objects, would give dignity to its situa- 
 tion, had it been raised on the blasted heath. The 
 road here gently falls into a vale, rendered very 
 cheerful by several neat cottages, prettily sprin- 
 kled over it. It for some time takes a 
 straight direction, then, crossing the vale, winds 
 round the base of the conical hill, under the awful 
 shade of its pines, preparatory to your entering a 
 most sequestered spot a little farther on, whence 
 you suddenly fail on the convent, a building most 
 judiciously placed, and constructed to produce 
 the desired ef Feet. Here one of the keepers lives. 
 The principal room is hung round with prints of 
 the different religious habits, and some old paint- 
 
£15 
 
 ings, said to have been brought from Glastonbury, 
 In the windows is a great deal of ancient painted 
 glass ; and in every part of its exterior as well as 
 interior, the true monastic costume is preserved. 
 
 To render the scene more sombre, the tree that 
 here predominates is that species of fir which 
 most truly harmonizes with it, whose branches 
 feather down to the ground, and are so tiled as 
 almost to exclude the light of day. Having strug- 
 gled through this monastic gloom, and again felt 
 the cheering influence of the sun, we meet with 
 walks of a more cheerful character, taking various 
 directions; and one of green turf, lightly over- 
 arched with trees, and winding through an ex- 
 panse of forest of every growth, and which must 
 form one of the most delightful summer rides or 
 walks imaginable. However, we took the more 
 open and frequented road, gradually ascending 
 through the upper part of this valley, till it loses 
 itself in the terrace, which again brings us to 
 Alfred's tower, that august monument to the 
 greatest of men ; for which, in this our second 
 visit to it, we felt our respect rather increased 
 than lessened, especially when contrasted with 
 that proud, ostentatious turret seen from it, that 
 Unmeaningly crowns the summit of Fonthill. 
 The prospect from the back of Alfred's tower, 
 and immediately under it, looking over the vale 
 of Bruton, is very rich, as we now saw it in all 
 the splendour of a meridian sun. Hence by a 
 lovelv, circuitous, and diversified route through 
 open and woody grounds we come to the third 
 
 p 4 
 
216 
 
 valley, which, though not so dressed as th two 
 former, displays uncommon charms in dishabille, 
 and capable of being equally heightened and im- 
 proved, unless it be 
 
 " When unadorn'd adorn'd the most." 
 
 The outermost hill that bounds it our host recom- 
 mended us to cross, to explore a spot that of late 
 many travellers who came to his house went to 
 see ; since our initiation at Holnicote we had con- 
 tracted the true antiquarian curiosity, and needed 
 no great inducement to follow the directions of 
 our Cicerone, who brought us to a common in- 
 cluding several hundred acres, thickly covered 
 with circular excavations of various depths and 
 diameters, called Pen pits, adjoining the little 
 church of Pen. The learned are divided in their 
 conjectures as to their origin and use ; some suppos- 
 ing them quarries, and others habitations. If quar- 
 ries, this natural question results : What became of 
 the stone? as there is no large city or town near, 
 and certainly could not have been at the time they 
 were worked, the whole country round being the 
 great tract of Selwood Forest. Besides, can we 
 suppose people so ignorant, even in the most sa- 
 vage state, were they quarries, as to prefer a per- 
 pendicular to a horizontal adit for drawing out 
 the stones ? From our examination of them we 
 don't hesitate to join those who contend for their 
 having been the habitations of some of the earliest 
 inhabitants ; for Jones has furnished me with a 
 note from Turner's History of the Anglo-Saxons, 
 that tends strongly to confirm this most general 
 
217 
 
 opinion, proving from Ephorus, that the Cimme- 
 rians were a people undoubtedly of the same stock 
 With our Cymry, that is, primitive inhabitants 
 dwelling in subterraneous habitations, called ar- 
 gillas ; and it is a curious analogy in language, 
 that argil in the British means a covert, or place 
 covered over. At the bottom of several of those 
 pits, querns have been found, stones that minis- 
 tered to the primitive mode of triturating grain, 
 before the invention of that complicated machine, 
 a mill; and this, I think, is a strong presump- 
 tion in favour of their having been habitations. 
 
 Having ordered our dinner at half after four, our 
 landlord be^o-ed leave to remind us of the time, 
 which would only allow of our getting to the inn 
 five minutes before our appointment with the cook ; 
 so we hurried to return, with appetites grown 
 keener by our long walk, in healthy pure air. A 
 fine fire, as usual, awaited us, and preparations 
 for dinner gave us no small pleasure. A piper, a 
 fish of the gurnet species, and a fine beef-steak, 
 removed by a pheasant, made up our bill of fare ; 
 which gave relish to our bottle of port, the very 
 best I ever tasted at an inn ; but at such an inn, 
 so situated, I am surprised more people do not 
 make parties to stay a day or two, instead of pay- 
 ing hurrying visits, by which means they do not 
 see half the beauties, or enjoy half the com- 
 forts, of this place. In the evening we Mere 
 too much fatigued for any thine but convcrsa- 
 tion. Even botany on Jones's part, and the 
 ^Shakespearian manuscripts on mine, could not 
 tempt us out of our arm-chairs. I took some 
 
21$ 
 
 pains to reason Jones about his prejudices with 
 regard to fetch-candles and ghosts, which I fear, 
 notwithstanding his strong mind on all other 
 subjects, are too inveterate to be overcome. I 
 tried him with reason ; I tried him with raillery — ■ 
 but in vain ; and when I attempted to laugh him 
 out of it, his country flew into his face, he asked 
 me if I recollected what Johnson said, talking of 
 ghosts, when in consequence of Miss Seward 
 treating the subject with an incredulous smile, he 
 with a solemn vehemence addressed her, " Yes, 
 Madam, this is a question which after five thou- 
 sand years is yet undecided ; a question whether 
 in theology or philosophy, one of the most im- 
 portant that ever can come before the human un- 
 derstanding." After the discharge of this blun- 
 derbuss I fired off no more of my popguns, but 
 gave the discourse a new turn; I said I envied 
 him his facility at writing short-hand, though I 
 never could be brought to attempt learning it, 
 from an idea that it would be more difficult to 
 read it when written, than to write it at first. 
 if Why," said he, " with my inquisitive mind, 
 and but a bad memory, what should I have done 
 without it ? you see by this means what treasures 
 I have collected, and how little room they take ; 
 I owe it all to short-hand : I was, like you, deter- 
 red at first, but there are no real difficulties ; 
 they are all ideal. Had I the memory of a grand- 
 aunt of mine, I should hardly need the aid of 
 such a science : I have a sermon written by her 
 from recollection, after she came home from 
 
£19 
 
 lurch, where she had been to hear the great 
 'illotson, and I have had the curiosity to collate 
 :hc manuscript with the same sermon afterwards 
 printed, and the difference was very trifling; per- 
 laps owing to some alteration it had undergone 
 om the author himself, to fit it for the press." 
 [e said he had been told by his father, who well knew 
 oodtall, the printer of the Morning Chronicle, 
 the first paper that professed to report the 
 speeches of the House of Commons ; that he had 
 seen him in the gallery of that house for three 
 hours, with his cane-head to his mouth, never 
 varying his posture, and never taking a note ; and 
 yet the following day reporting the speeches 
 without the loss of a single word, though, per- 
 haps, he would call at the theatre in his way home 
 to see a new farce, or a new performer, for his 
 criticism ; and that his memory disposed of such 
 various gleanings without the least confusion, or 
 any apparent technical help. What an enviable 
 talent ! From parliamentary reporters the transi- 
 tion was easy to the House of Commons, the great 
 assembly of the United Kingdom, squeezed into a 
 room not half large enough to contain it; which, 
 when full, must be suffocatingly oppressive : ill 
 lighted, and un wholesomely heated, with every 
 thing so dingy about its appearance; as if it was 
 meant for the rendezvous of conspirators, and not 
 of the patriots and legislators of the land. How 
 much the want of a senatorial habit is tifo re felt ! 
 not that it would absolutely confer on its wearer 
 intellect, eloquence, or integrity, yet it must cer- 
 
220 
 
 tainly contribute to give to the house in general 
 that dignity at least to the eye, which it never 
 can assume in its present motley character of 
 dress. Is it not to be wondered at that the graces 
 of oratory are so little studied, or so little dis- 
 played, as in England, and that it does not con- 
 stitute a more essential part of education; or, if 
 it does, that the effect of it is rarely visible in the 
 pulpit, at the bar, or in the senate? Great pains are 
 taken to teach us to dance, that we may be better 
 enabled to enter a room, make a bow, and play a 
 thousand other monkey tricks ; but to adapt atti- 
 tudes to speech, so as to give it greater powers of 
 persuasion, has never yet been made a science. 
 Indeed there has of late years a method been 
 adopted at most schools of making boys spout 
 parts of plays by way of introduction to oratory ; 
 a most pernicious practice ; as, if it does not 
 create in them (which I fear it too often does) a 
 passion for the stage, and the vagabond life of a 
 player, it gives them ever after a ranting, turgid, 
 bombast manner of expression ; as distant from 
 what I humbly conceive to be the true graces of 
 eloquence as one pole from the other. We both 
 agreed in rejoicing at the visible decline of private 
 theatricals, a sort of mania that had at one time 
 been universally prevalent ; which led to more 
 expense and more mischief in the families who 
 favoured them than any other entertainment : and 
 ail for what?—- to see a play murdered : to say no- 
 thing of the dangerous tendency it had to inflame 
 the passions, and so corrupt the morals of the 
 
younger, and particularly the female, part of the 
 dramatis personal. Thus over our tea, careless 
 how far our colloquial wanderings led us, we pro- 
 tracted the evening till the stroke of twelve re- 
 minded us of the lapse of time and the dues of 
 nature, which we hastened to discharge, there 
 being few preparatory ceremonies to be attended to, 
 as my companion had not his botanical apparatus 
 to put by, or I my manuscripts, which I prize 
 like the leaves of the Sibyl *. Breakfast waits, 
 and so adieu ! 
 
 P. S. I had almost forgot to tell you, that, 
 chiefly owing to the light thrown on the Hiclfordd 
 pedigree by what was communicated to me by the 
 gentleman we casually met at Haverfordwest, and 
 who afterwards joined us at Mil ford, I h ave 
 nearly established my claim to the intestate's pro- 
 perty, having just heard from thy uncle to that 
 effect; and there is but one trilling point yet to 
 be cleared up, and that I think I can easily do 
 from documents I was so fortunate as to pick up 
 at Minehead, from the papers of a great anti- 
 quary there, whose ancestors for several genera- 
 tions had been eminent attornies in that country, 
 to whom I was directed, who, tacked on to an old 
 
 * I say Silyl ; as Petit, a French physician, has endeavoured 
 to prove, and not without strong arguments to support his as- 
 sumption, that there never was but one Sibyl, and that her : 
 was Heropliile ; that she was born at Erithncea, and died at 
 Cuma 5 and that the diversity of names was occasioned by her 
 travelling from one place to another. 
 
marriage-settlement of one of the Arundel r, about 
 two hundred years ago, showed me a family chart 
 involving the very link that was defective in the 
 chain I had formed, and makes my title complete. 
 
 Stourron, November 16, ISO/. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Yesterday being Sunday we rested from 
 our labours, contenting ourselves with a quiet re- 
 capitulatory survey of the principal home scenes 
 we had seen before, and a silent contemplation of 
 the various beauties of nature and art, which for 
 these last two or three days had engrossed our 
 thoughts; after attending divine service at church, 
 which afforded us a grateful opportunity of hearing 
 it performed to a most respectable congregation 
 with proper devotion by the inhabitant of the 
 beautiful cottage I noticed in a former' letter, the 
 curate of the parish, under the well-known literary 
 character, Archdeacon Coxe, who is the rector, by 
 the presentation of Sir Richard Hoare. The church 
 is a neat Gothic building, but in point of archi- 
 tecture, or monumental contents, it has no pecu- 
 liar claim on the notice of the traveller or the an- 
 tiquary ; but in a higher character, as the house 
 of God, it is entitled to the praise and admiration 
 of every one who, like us, may be so fortunate 
 as to visit it on that day set apart for devotion, 
 and may have an opportunity of witnessing the 
 
 4 ' 
 
223 
 
 proper manner in which it is kept, served, and 
 attended, which will ever be the case while the 
 head of the congregation sets so laudable an ex- 
 ample of regularity in the discharge of his reli- 
 gious duties. From repose such as we had not 
 enjoyed for some time, procured by exercise less 
 violent than usual, and minds tranquillized by the 
 peaceful employments of the sabbath, we rose re- 
 freshed, and prepared to encounter a fresh treat, 
 that we were told we were likely to enjoy this day 
 in our intended ramble. Though cold, it was 
 bright and calm ; therefore hiring a couple of 
 horses, we varied our amusement, and ascended 
 the downs, where we rode in various directions 
 for several miles, over the finest turf imaginable, 
 breathing the purest air, and looking round us on 
 a richly diversified country. Here the chalk hills 
 end, and present, towards Stourhead, a most 
 charmingly varied outline. Occupying an exten- 
 sive and bold projection, we entered a large en- 
 campment, strengthened by several lines of cir- 
 cumvallation, in all probability Danish, as there 
 is a covered way leading from it to a little valley 
 on the left, called Swevn Cwnr, or, the Vale of 
 Sweyn. The downs here are studded with nume- 
 rous tumuli, of various forms and dimensions, 
 most of which have been opened under the judi- 
 cious eve of Sir Richard Hoare, the contents of 
 which, now preserved in a museum at Heytes- 
 bury, have proved highly interesting, being of 
 different ages ; some clearly < •:' > remote anti- 
 quity as the earliest population of the island, be- 
 
£24 
 
 fore the use of metal, when flint and bone sup- 
 plied its place ; and others of a later, wherein 
 weapons of iron and a mixed metal are found, 
 probably Danish. It seems the learned Baronet 
 has in contemplation a most splendid work of the 
 ancient history of Wilts, from records that cannot 
 falsify, for ages locked up, but lately discovered 
 by the application of the spade and the pick-axe, 
 without the help of an ostentatious tantalizing 
 folio index ; older it is true, yet more accessible^ 
 often better preserved, and more intelligible than 
 those in the Tower or the Augmentation Office, 
 to get at which, though every British subject 
 may of right claim to inspect them, I blush to 
 say, that, even with the gold key in hand, one 
 must frequently submit to more humiliating toil 
 and encounter more dirt, than the barrow-pioneer 
 in his subterraneous researches. This work, illus- 
 trated from drawings of the various deposits 
 found in the tumuli, is, I am told, in great for- 
 wardness ; while to make it equal to its subject, 
 lio expense is spared, and facts are more minutely 
 and judiciously investigated than they have ever 
 been before, either by Stukely or Douglas. 
 
 After surveying with a sort of reverence those 
 monuments of our ancestors, we left the downs, 
 descending to Mere, a little straggling town, with 
 a ridge of hills to the south, on which formerly 
 stood a castle, the remains of which, for the sake 
 of the stones for building, have been perfectly 
 ransacked ; so that nothing remains but the bold, 
 
 bxzj Ui 
 
225 
 
 irregular site. The church is a respectable, digni- 
 fied building. 
 
 We wished much to have seen the Abbey at 
 Fon thill, whose proud and lofty tower attracts 
 the notice of the traveller ; but were told that no 
 person was admitted unless the professed of the 
 order, and particularly known to the abbot. 
 
 Having much of the day yet undisposed of, we 
 extended our ride through pleasant lanes and vil- 
 lages to Silton, where we were told by the tree-en- 
 thusiast we met at Bridgeware!*, there was a remark- 
 able oak under which Judge Wyndham, in the 
 time of Charles II. who in that village usually 
 passed his vacation, used to sit and smoke his 
 pipe. The situation of the place is charming ; 
 most cheerful, and yet retired ; a retreat that 
 must have been highly grateful to the venerable 
 lawyer, after the din of courts, and being " in 
 populous cities pent." The oak we visited with 
 peculiar reverence. It was of immense size, but 
 more striking from its picturesque form than its 
 dimensions: perfectly hollow, with the greater 
 part of its limbs decayed, showing on one side 
 only symptoms of vegetable lite. 
 
 Inquiring of the villagers, we found that this 
 was the Judge's principal country residence, and 
 were shown his mansion, now a farm-house, not 
 far from his favourite tree, lie died on the cir- 
 cuit, in his painful vocation, at a very advanced 
 age, and was buried in the church of Silton, where 
 we saw a beautiful monument in the chancel to 
 commemorate him. His statue, erect in his robes, as 
 
 Q 
 
QZ6 
 
 large as life, is of white marble, and of exquisite 
 workmanship. 
 
 After a very interesting excursion we returned 
 to our inn about four o'clock, and just above 
 Stourton pass a large farmhouse called Bonhomme, 
 which had of old times, as I was here told (though 
 I suspect the information to be unfounded), some 
 connexion with the only establishment of that 
 order in England, at Iledington, in Wiltshire ; 
 for Jones, who is a walking library, and knowing 
 that we were to touch at Stourton, had, during 
 our sojourn at Holnicote, copied out of old Leland 
 the little that relates to this country, furnishes me 
 with the following quotation, which is decisive of 
 its origin : " There is on a hill, a little without 
 Stourton, a grove, and yn it is a very praty place, 
 caullyd Bonhomes, buildid of late by my Lorde 
 of Stourton. Bonhome of Wiltshire, of the aun- 
 cienter house of the Bonhomes there, is lord of 
 it." There still exists a Romish chapel here, as in 
 the neighbourhood are several of that persuasion, 
 a remnant of the old dependants of the Lords 
 Stourton. We again experienced all the comforts 
 and independence of an inn evening, nor were the at- 
 tractions of the table or the fireside inferior to those 
 we acknowledged on former evenings. 
 
 After dinner a packet of letters awaited me, 
 and till the hour of repose I had them to digest 
 and answer. Another letter from my uncle in- 
 forms me, that all my Hwlfordd claims are allowed 
 beyond the fear of any new opposition to them. 
 I find the real property in Ireland is but small, 
 
 
227 
 
 consisting of a few houses in the vilest part of 
 your capital, near St. Patrick's, and one farm and 
 a church-lease in the north of Ireland. The 
 houses my uncle advises me as soon as possible to 
 get rid of, being now more saleable than they will 
 be a few years hence, as they have lately undergone 
 thorough repair. The intestate being a specula- 
 tive, sensible, observing man, seemed to foresee 
 the commotion that took place a few years ago in 
 your country, and wisely got rid of most of his 
 little landed property, turning it all into money, 
 to the amount of about ten thousand pounds, 
 which, during his residence in North Wales, whi- 
 ther he retired at the commencement of the 
 troubles, through the medium of an eminent at- 
 torney or two he formed an acquaintance with in 
 that country, he vested in sound mortgages, now 
 forming the bulk of the property. After meeting 
 my uncle in London in the spring, I purpose vi- 
 siting North Wales, as well on account of its pic- 
 turesque beauties, as to examine my landed secu- 
 rities ; so don't wonder yet if you find me turn 
 hermit among the Snowdonian mountains. But 
 by way of counterbalance to this favourable ac- 
 count, calculated to raise my spirits, I hear from 
 another quarter what has an equal tendency to 
 depress them. Health grows every hour more and 
 more a stranger to my Eliza; and weighed against 
 her happiness, riches, fame, and honour, are but a 
 feather in the scale. Charles, Charles, pity my 
 weakness ! I have touched on the " string that 
 makes most harmony or discord in me," and its 
 
£28 
 
 vibration will not soon be over. Oh ! to forget 
 her thrilling through my heart ! Adieu ! 
 
 Stourton, November 14, 1807. 
 MV DEAR CHAKLES, 
 
 Here we still are, notwithstanding the 
 unpleasantness of the season, fascinated by the 
 superior charms of this lovely place, where the 
 absence of summer is so happily supplied by 
 groves of evergreens, that winter cannot be felt. 
 Yesterday we partook of a treat, such as I 
 had never been a guest at before. Hearing 
 that it was in contemplation to open an im- 
 mense tumulus with the popular name of Jack's 
 Castle, in the vicinity of that memorable spot where- 
 Alfred's Tower rises, which had been always con- 
 sidered to have been a beacon, and probably might 
 have been made use of for that purpose 
 several hundred years after its first erection; 
 I signified to the landlord, that if he thought 
 there w r ould be no impropriety in it, I should be 
 happy to be present at this ceremony. He said 
 he was well assured that nothing could be more 
 gratifying to Sir Richard Hoare than the presence 
 of any gentleman actuated by such curiosity; 
 adding, that he would, with our permission, as it 
 were from himself, get our wishes made known. 
 This produced a most polite invitation from the 
 Baronet, and we hastened to obey the summons. 
 The men employed to open those primitive sepul- 
 chres, and who by almost constant experience are 
 
 
2*9 
 
 deeply skilled in the operation, had been sent 
 Nearly in the morning to prepare the work, which 
 by twelve o'clock, when the company assembled, 
 was in such a state of forwardness as to render 
 every stroke of the pick-axe, and every motion 
 of the shovel, highly critical and interesting, 
 charcoal being perceived, the never-failing crite- 
 rion of its having been sepulchral. On this 
 symptom the gentleman who presided at this bu- 
 siness, and under whose eye the solemn process 
 was graduated, descended into the opening that 
 had been made, and by some minute, and to us 
 mystic observations, feeling as it were the pulse 
 of the barrow, was justified in pronouncing that 
 " the consummation devoutly to be wished" was 
 at hand ; for no sooner had he pronounced this, 
 than the cyst or factitious cavity, in which, in- 
 stead of an urn, the ashes of the dead were depo- 
 sited, was discovered, among which was found a 
 stone hatchet, with a red blotch over part of it, 
 as if it had been stained with blood, grown after 
 a lapse of ages to look like red paint, time not 
 having the power to efface it: this little weapon 
 was highly finished. There was likewise a piece 
 of a spear's head, of brass or mixed metal, the 
 produce of countries more civilized, the effect of 
 barter, for it hardly can be supposed that a 
 people who had the means of fabricating such a 
 weapon of metal would submit to the slow and 
 tiresome process of resorting to stone and flint. 
 
 The acquaintance we had formed did not end 
 here. The Baronet gave us a polite and pressing 
 
230 
 
 invitation to dinner, which, after detailing our ad- 
 ventures in Somersetshire, and mentioning our 
 letter of introduction from Mr. Fortescue, and 
 our reason for not delivering it, we accepted. We 
 sat down at half past five o'clock. The dinner 
 was elegantly served, in one of the most magnifi- 
 cent rooms I ever sat in, the saloon, which I have 
 before described, and warmed by a fire that re- 
 quired a forest to feed it. The wines were of the 
 first quality, and the dessert excellent. The com- 
 pany was not numerous, and the conversation such 
 as might be expected at such a table, various and 
 entertaining. You may well suppose that much 
 of it turned upon the business of the morning, 
 and other subjects of antiquity; for the greater 
 part of the guests, if not professed antiquaries, 
 were all amateurs, and had been convened for the 
 purpose of being regularly initiated in the mys- 
 teries of barrow-opening, in the course of which 
 much ingenious disquisition took place, and the 
 result of prior discoveries was communicated. In 
 many of the tumuli great quantities of beads, of 
 amber, jet, and an imperfect kind of vitrification, 
 are found accompanying the ashes, and in almost 
 every interment there is one pin found, having no 
 head, and a triangular point, like a glover's 
 needle, and sometimes small pieces of linen, as if 
 the ashes were collected into a cloth, and held toge- 
 ther by that single pin : Jones suggested that per- 
 haps it was a web made of the linum asbestinum, 
 a kind of fossil flax, found in the stone asbestos, 
 of which they say there is a quarry in Anglesey 
 
231 
 
 Which will bear fire, and of which Pliny, in his 
 Natural History, says, the ancients made cloth to 
 burn the hearts of their princes in, and preserve 
 the ashes. There was a young man of fashion of 
 the party, who, with a great deal of satirical wit, 
 took much pains in endeavouring to turn into ridi- 
 cule the pursuits of the antiquary, and particularly 
 barrow-hunting, evidently not from any convic- 
 tion that it was ridiculous, but merely to show 
 his talents for raillery, of which he certainly pos- 
 sessed a great share. Jones, who, I believe, 
 thought him in earnest, and has too liberal a mind 
 to permit him to despise studies that don't accord 
 w T ith his own notions, offered himself a champion 
 for the antiquary, and, having entered the lists, 
 managed his weapons -well. Being on the sub- 
 ject of antiquities, I mentioned our visit to Pen 
 Pits, those excavations I already gave you a cur- 
 sory account of, in hopes of having some light 
 thrown on their history ; but I found that every 
 thing that has been said of them is conjectural, 
 as none of the topographical writers have ever 
 noticed them, and there are as many different opi- 
 nions almost as there are pits ; but the majority of 
 the company present seemed to favour that of 
 their having been habitations ; a young barrister, 
 who was voluble and argumentative, would have 
 them to be quarries ; but on being asked what be- 
 came of the stones du^ from them, he was fairly 
 gravelled : besides, as his principal opponent, a 
 strenuous anti-quarry ist, observed, the pits seem to 
 have stopped where the stone begins; for till j 
 
 Q 4 
 
232 
 
 go down to a certain depth, no stone can be found; 
 and if stone was their object, they would hardly 
 have finished where they ought to have begun. 
 
 Our host finding our plan was to see Stone- 
 henge and Salisbury, recommended us to take 
 Heytesbury in our way, where the museum con- 
 taining the relics that have been found in the 
 different tumuli opened under the patronage of 
 Sir Richard Hoare, is kept, and where Mr. Can- 
 nington, the gentleman I referred to above as 
 taking the lead in directing the operations of the 
 morning, lives, to whose arrangement every thing 
 is consigned. He was to set off for home the 
 next day, and we engaged ourselves to take that 
 road soon after him. Highly flattered and grati- 
 fied by the entertainment we had enjoyed, we re- 
 turned to our inn by ten o'clock, and, without 
 trespassing on the hours of rest, had sufficient 
 time to give you the journal of the day, and by 
 the help of Jones, who is at another table copyingout 
 of my late purchased manuscript another sample of 
 its contents in verse and prose, to inclose you a little 
 poem by Anna Hatheway, which Jones speaks in 
 raptures of; and a curious letter from Shakespeare, 
 to one of his early intimates in his native town. 
 Adieu, and believe me, my dear Hibernian, 
 
 Ever yours, &c. 
 
TO THE BELOVYD OF THE MUSES AND M£J 
 
 Sweete swanne of Avon, thou whoose art * 
 Can mould at will the human hart, 
 Can drawe from all who reade or heare, 
 The unresisted smile and teare : 
 
 By thee a vyllege maiden found, 
 No eare had I for mesured sounde ; 
 To dresse the fleese that Willie wrought 
 Was all I knewe, was all I sauglit. 
 
 At thie softe lure too quicke I flewe, 
 Enamored of thie songe I grewe - } 
 The distaffe soone was layd aside, 
 And all mie woork thie stray nes supply '& 
 
 Thou gavest at first th' inchanting quill, 
 And everie kiss convay'd thie skill j 
 Unfelt, ye maides, ye cannot tell 
 The wondrouse force of suche a spell. 
 
 Nor marvell if thie breath transfuse 
 A charme repleate with everie muse; 
 They cluster rounde thie lippes, and thyne 
 Distill theire sweetes improv'd on myne. 
 
 Anna Ha the way. 
 
 * By this Sonnet, as well as several parts of Shakespeare's 
 manuscript journal, and the memoirs of his life written by him- 
 self, it appears that Shakespeare's dramatic genius had discovered 
 itself very early, and that several scenes, afterwards, with slight 
 variations, engrafted into his best plays, were exhibited at seasons 
 of festival by him and his companions j and he was fortunate 
 enough to have two or three friends in his native town of nearly 
 his own age, with congenial talents, particularly the very person 
 who wrote Titus Andronicus, which Shakespeare only revised 
 and fathered ; and two others, of the names of Benson and 
 Cloptoji. 
 
234 
 
 
 TO MASTER WILLIAM BENSON, MY MUCH ESTEEMED 
 FREND/ ANT) THE DARLYNGE OF THE MUSES, 
 
 These from mie harte. 
 It rejoyceth me muche tolicere that you re 
 broaken legg is agen knytted together, and that it 
 beginnes to looke and dyschaurge its office now as 
 well as the othere. During youre paynfull con- 
 finemente with it, when it was dowtful how it 
 would end, I seriowsly felt for you, and for the 
 woorld, which in that shorte vacation from youre 
 labors hath had a loss ; and had not Heven pre- 
 sevid you to us, wold in youre deth have had such 
 a loss that could not be repayred, with sok manie 
 misterys of art shut up in the cabbinett of youre 
 braine, that must have peryshed with you. 
 
 Of youre unyversall alfabett I have allwaies 
 spoaken to such as have mynd enow to grasp the 
 plann, as well as of that cureouse macheene for 
 writing twoo letters at once, which was in it's 
 nursy's armes when I sawe you last, but now ar- 
 ry ved at maturitie. 
 
 Richarde Sadleir, who you maie remembere our 
 puny littel schoole-fellowe, and who sayes he shall 
 neaver forge tt your savyng hym from Dick the tan- 
 ner his mastiffe, hath promysed, and hys promyse 
 is anoather woorde for purformaunce, to get his fa- 
 there, Sir Ralph, to interest the Queene's Majes- 
 tie in your behaulfe, and bryng your rare tallentes 
 to her knolege ; and the vennerable knight boastes 
 of haveing more of the eare of hys mystress then 
 
235 
 
 anie other of her courtiers, as he knoweth better 
 than most of them how to humore her. 
 
 I was yesterdaie honored by a visite from my 
 Lorde of Cork, to whooni I spoake in the warmest 
 tearmes of your ingeniouse conceiptes in all kindes 
 of mechannisme, as well as sciencys. He asked 
 me if I beleeved you woold not dislyke going 
 oaver to Irlande, for he could sarve you theare, 
 wheare laming and the artes are in a lowe state. 
 He had a goodlie ould gentilman withe hym, h}-s 
 father-in-lawe, Sir Geoffry Fen ton, reputed a grete 
 jstatisman, and a persone hie in the Queene's favor ; 
 he had travvyled muche over Europe, and so- 
 jorned, when yong, long in Italy. Pie gave me 
 the frame of a tragedie, from a lammentabil storye, 
 that fell out when he was at Lucca, and showed 
 me noe smalle skille in hys hintes for putting it 
 togither. He sayd he had at tymes amusyd hym- 
 selfe in making posies of the symple wild flowres 
 growyng at the foote of Parnassus. He lamentid 
 muche the mixteur of lowe ribbauldrie with some 
 of mie most mooving sceanes. It was almost, he 
 sayd, prophanacion. I owned it was soarelie 
 against mie wille, but I kept a shop, and must 
 have wares for all customers. Att the requeste of 
 a ladie of honore, noe less a parsonage than the 
 Countesse of Pembrok, I had dropped the grave 
 sceane in mie Hamlett, butt the poppulece grew 
 outragiouse, and threatted to bury us all unlesse 
 theire favorit parte was restorid. He presented 
 me wyth a choyce discoorse of his on love, printed 
 
at Padua, in goulden letters, and in soe smalle a 
 forme as to go into the pocket of one's dublet. 
 
 It was noe good pollicie in you to open soe 
 much of your scheame of the universall carecter 
 to that Frenche Papiste * who ould Gastrcll, the 
 apoticary, had picked upp and harbouryd, for he 
 has all the ayr of a treacherer. In future keep 
 your harte more lockid, and give not the kay but 
 to such as are woorthie of the truste; and of that 
 number you iriavc safelie venture to rank your 
 tried and faithful sarvitor, 
 
 W. S. 
 
 Warminster, November 15, I8O7. 
 MT DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Longleat, the magnificent seat of the 
 Marquis of Bath, having been pointed out to us 
 as well worth visiting, and by way of foil, to set 
 it off, the seat of the Duke of Somerset, which 
 we must pass in our way thither, they both lying 
 not far out of our direct course to Heytesbury; 
 and Jones recollecting that he had an acquaint- 
 
 * Jones recollects to have seen among his father's memoranda 
 a reference to a curious letter, dated 1641, from Doctor Griffith 
 Williams, a Welshman, then Bishop of Ossory, about being 
 consulted by King Charles I. respecting an invention by an un- 
 known Frenchman, born in Geneva, for an universal character j 
 probably a descendant of the very Papist Shakespeare refers to, 
 as having drawn the secret from his friend Benson. 
 
237 
 
 ance in the vicinity of Warminster, where we 
 proposed to fix our head-quarters for the night, to 
 whom he had written to give us the meeting there; 
 yesterday was devoted to this purpose; so leaving 
 the beauties of Stourhead with regret, we pro- 
 ceeded to Maiden Bradley, the present Duke of 
 Somerset's principal country residence; an old 
 house, of no size or pretensions for a nobleman 
 of his high rank, and situated close by the road, 
 in one of the most beggarly, sordid villages I 
 ever passed through. 
 
 Here one of the coheiresses of Manasseh Bissett 
 endowed with all her patrimony an hospital for 
 female lepers, being herself afflicted with that dis- 
 ease, and the first patient ; and to this day the 
 place looks as if the leprosy had cleaved to it, and 
 was not to be cleansed. The hospital was annexed 
 to a priory founded there before by her father, 
 over which presided a prior, with secular priests, 
 a sort of spiritual physicians, to cleanse the le- 
 prosy of the soul, being entitled by the founder 
 most equivocally, procuratores mulieram. Of one 
 of the priors Jones, from his universal vade-mecum 
 of oddities, has furnished me with a curious anec- 
 dote he extracted from a manuscript in the Cot- 
 tonian library, which referring to the prior of 
 Maiden Bradley, says, " A none medler withe 
 marrith women, but all withe madens the fairest 
 could be gottyn. The pope considering his 
 frailty e, gave him lycense to keep an hore, and 
 hathe good writing (sub plumbo) to discharge his 
 conscience/' Such indulgences were a great 
 
238 
 
 source of the papal revenue. Jones says he has 
 seen the original parchment, containing an annual 
 absolution of Clement VI. and a printed book 
 called the Custom-house of Sin, with a regular 
 table of rates for all crimes annexed. 
 
 The best and the only thing worthy of being 
 mentioned as an appendage to a great man's 
 house, was the park, not large, but well stocked, 
 and, I am told, productive of good venison. 
 
 About four miles beyond this wretched place 
 we enter the grounds of Longleat, which appear 
 very extensive, and well wooded ; the house, oc- 
 cupying the site, most probably, of the priory, 
 like all the ancient religious establishments, lies 
 too low for health, on the margin of a fine piece 
 of water, flooding the vale. The mansion is an 
 immense pile (I only speak as to its exterior, for 
 our time would not allow of our looking within, 
 could admission have been obtained) ; the planta- 
 tions near the house are most of them young and 
 thriving, but have too great a proportion of Scotch 
 fir, that harmonizes with nothing else, producing 
 a most funereal effect. Here still are to be seen 
 the venerable ancestors of that species of pine in 
 England the Weymouth ; so called after the title 
 of their first planter. 
 
 The first Thynne who settled here is called 
 servant to the Lord Protector Somerset; I pre- 
 sume his confidential secretary ; but he seems in 
 the choice of his residence to have had a much 
 better taste than his master, who chose to abide 
 among the lepers ; nor if we judge from the wide 
 
239 
 
 range of his finely circumstanced property, was 
 he less attentive to the quantity than the quality 
 of his great master's donation ; for, taking the 
 grounds of the present Longleat all together, there 
 are very few finer places. In our way to War- 
 minster, after emerging from the vale, we passed 
 a new piece of water of great extent, which 
 when the young plantations that surround it shall 
 have arrived at a growth to make them orna- 
 mental, will be a vast addition to the beauties of 
 the grounds ; and by the time we had reached our 
 inn, there was very little day left. 
 
 Before we were fairly disengaged from our 
 chaise, another drove up, and who should step out 
 of it but our masked friends, whom we parted 
 with at Pipers Inn ! They still preserved their 
 disguise, accosted us with apparent satisfaction at 
 this unexpected meeting, and mutual congratula- 
 tions took place. They said they could not pass 
 near that lovely place Stourhead, without tak- 
 ing a look at it, though they had been in the 
 habit of stopping there almost every year in the 
 course of their excursions ; they talked of paving 
 a visit to the Marquis of Bath, the Earl of Cork, 
 and Orchardleigh ; a place that, if we had not 
 seen' it, they thought would amply repay us for 
 the deviation of a. few miles, as now involving 
 great beauties, and capable of infinitely more, 
 which the present possessor with great taste is 
 daily calling out; yet the beauties of Orchard- 
 Id gh have their alloy, in its proximity to the ma- 
 nufacturing town of Frome, notorious for poachers, 
 
240' 
 
 and principles ever at variance with aristocracy, 
 by which it is perpetually infested. However, 
 they should not start till the morning; and in 
 that case they hoped we would have no objection 
 to uniting parties for the remainder of the evening. 
 We had neither of us dined, therefore agreed to 
 order something that would be soon provided, 
 which was done accordingly. 
 
 We had scarcely sat down before Jones's ac- 
 quaintance, the clergyman, made his appearance. 
 He was a formal, shy man, and appeared to have 
 mixed but little with the world, the living world; 
 but we all soon discovered that he had conversed 
 much with the learned dead, and that he was an 
 excellent classical scholar, a character he had fre- 
 quently occasion to display in the course of the 
 evening. 
 
 After dinner, having given orders to brighten 
 our fire, over a fresh bottle, our Attic entertain- 
 ment commenced, and our conversation was unin- 
 terruptedly supplied with new topics, in the dis- 
 cussion of which we all took our parts. Our cle- 
 rical guest talked much of the geoponics of the 
 ancients, and oftener cited Varro and Columella 
 than Horace and Virgil ; he said the Roman and 
 Greek writers de repustica were too little known; 
 on which one of our masked acquaintance asked, 
 if better known, would they be worth reading? 
 a thing he much doubted : but the parson urged 
 their curiosity as a recommendation. " That," 
 replied Signor Parvidoglio, " would, I fear, be 
 but a poor one: the curious in agriculture is a 
 
241 
 
 -solecism ; to be valued, it must be useful unci prac- 
 ticable ; there is no laying down general rules for 
 agriculture ; they must be governed by climate 
 and nature of the soil ; the treatment the Cam 
 pagna of Rome requires would not suit the downs 
 of Wiltshire. I am astonished," added he, " that 
 Apicius de re culindrid has not been published, 
 under the patronage of some professed Pic Nic 
 
 Epicurt degrege, with notes by Sir W m C — $ 
 
 and D — r P — rr, the latter of whom, when glutton- 
 ously gormandizing, has had the grace to thank 
 Heaven for such astonishing poxcers of enjoyment; 
 and enriched with various readings by the B — - — ch 
 
 of B ps ; the whole adapted to the meridian of 
 
 the city, the taverns round St. James's, and the 
 two universities ; as well as to rescue that noble 
 science from the dull nostrums of Sir Kenelm 
 Digbys Closet unlocked, or the greasy recipes of 
 Hannah Glasse : the curious would be in character 
 there, for the more we deviate in cookery from 
 the natural and obvious mode, the more likely is 
 it to be adopted; and in this age, so much under 
 the influence of fashion, while hourly innovations 
 take place in dress, in furniture, in manners, 
 in houses, equipages; nay, in religion, law, and 
 physic ; there have been fewer changes rung on 
 cookery within these twenty years than on any 
 thing else; but what an accession to the curious 
 in literature and cutting of throats would Poly- 
 'xnus's treatise on stratagems be, were Bonaparte, 
 
 Sir S y S— th, or G c II r ; to favour 
 
 us with a commentary !" 
 
242 
 
 The parson finding that a page of Arthur Young 
 would outweigh all his geoponical and georgical 
 authors, with some degree of petulance, and as if 
 he was still tingling from the critic lash, snarled 
 out, " But it matters not what a man writes, 
 whether curious or useful, if the currency of his 
 work is to depend on the decision of a vena) Re- 
 view, that happens not to be in the pay of the 
 publisher of the work reviewed. I remember, in- 
 deed, in a periodical paper, called the British 
 Press, there was a review carried on most ably 
 for some time, in which the hand of a master, 
 and the mind" of an impartial judge, and (to use 
 the phrase of the old report-books) of great cou- 
 rage, were discernible. I was congratulating the 
 nation on this auspicious epoch, when suddenly 
 the critical department was put a stop to, and the 
 learned conductor's services dispensed with, merely 
 because he was so unfortunate in the discharge of 
 his duty as a public censor, to speak what he 
 thought (and he seemed always to speak correctly) 
 of a dull yet favourite work published by the 
 editor of the very paper which he had been auxi- 
 liary to." — " I agree with you, Sir," observed 
 Monsieur Shamnez, u that a most scandalous par- 
 tiality, if not venality, is justly chargeable on 
 our reviewers, and that no talents are a security 
 against the daggers of those mercenary assassins, 
 who stab in the dark. In one respect it would be 
 ZXi improvement if the critics were to utter their 
 censure with their real names ■ a plan that I was 
 told the other day, a well-known veteran in the 
 
243 
 
 ranks of literature had in contemplation ; yet it 
 would be to be feared that in a Review of this kind 
 few works would undergo its decision but such as 
 had too much merit to be in any danger of being 
 disapproved or condemned ; for where is the man 
 who in that case would be bold enough to deer)- to 
 the teeth of the popular applause the inconsist- 
 encies of W r S — tt's muse, and avow with 
 
 (he sanction of his real name that a schoolboy 
 ought to be whipped for showing up as an exer- 
 cise such bad lines as those which preface his 
 cantos of M n, whether wc consider the sub- 
 ject, the poetry, or the application? hat a pity 
 it is that this literary assav is not lodged in the 
 hands of such as would be above all temptation 
 to abuse it; in the hands of men of rank, for- 
 tune, and real learning ! it is a grand national ob- 
 ject : under such censors the press would assume 
 its proper dignity ; the taste, the morals, and the 
 literature of the country would, could not fail to 
 improve: and this," addressing himself to Jones 
 and me, " seemed to be your opinion as well as 
 ours when a similar remark was made during our 
 meeting at Piper's Inn." — "Oh! that our nobi- 
 lity and gentry," cried Jones, with his usual ani- 
 mation, that brought the soul to his face, and tip- 
 ped Ins tongue with fire, " would be actuated by 
 sentiments worthy of their birth and character, 
 worthy of men, that we might truly say, in every 
 sense of the word, with the patriotic enthusiasm 
 of Goldsmith, 
 
 r 2 
 
244 
 
 * I see the lords of human kind pass by :* 
 
 but as things are, \v r e are certainly a reproach to 
 our neighbours on the continent; we are not 
 happy in any of our public institutions, neither in 
 their principle nor their management; we begin 
 where we ought to leave off; like reading He- 
 brew, we begin at the end : Ave have, 't is true, 
 institutions without end, from the gulls of animal 
 magnetism and the strokers of metallic tractors, to 
 
 the idolatry of a cow's ulcered udder; and as to 
 hospitals, and other charitable endowments, they 
 are innumerable; and I expect to see an asylum 
 soon opened for orphan lap-dogs, and an infirmary 
 for sick monkies. You see subscriptions for all 
 denominations of establishments fill, and the 
 names of such in the list, were it not for the os- 
 tentation and publicity of the roll, as would not, 
 if it was done by stealth, give a penny to pluck 
 a dying man from a ditch, or keep a poor unfor- 
 tunate family, with sensibilities above their condi- 
 tion, who cannot beg, from starving. Is there a 
 charity set on foot for expatriated emigrants, 
 though chiefly spies, or as.^cssins in mask; un- 
 emancipated Catholics, or excommunicated nuns — 
 what is its origin and its progress ? Does it spring 
 from the only source that can j stify its creation 
 or ensure its permanency; from the silent and 
 gradua) operation of pity, acting on the benevo- 
 lent and the rich, to prompt them to consider the 
 wants and distresses of their fellow-creatures, 
 and for their relief to * cast the superflux to them, 
 
245 
 
 c to show the Heavens more just ?' No such thing. 
 Some deep, designing, specious projector, with an 
 imposing plausibility,and apparent disinterestedness, 
 yet with an eye, should the establishment succeed, 
 to the housekeeper's, the secretary's, or the trea- 
 surer's place, recommends the plan to some great 
 man, whose ear he has gained by flattering ap- 
 peals to his vanity and his pride, the only pass- 
 ports to his favour and his purse. The train thus 
 laid catches like wildfire, the avowed founder is 
 puffed off in verse and prose, and the institution 
 flames in the Red Book with all its blaze of presi- 
 dent, vice-presidents, council, and subordinate 
 officers ; but analyse the establishment and the 
 founder, and will they bear it ? The former, too 
 often the crude conception of prejudice and self- 
 interest, adopted by whim or party, if reducible, 
 never reduced to system, and furnishing sup- 
 port for such as, for aught the contributors to its 
 funds know, (so little inquiry is made into the 
 merits of the objects it professes to relieve), may 
 have deserved a cart's tail, or to pound hemp in 
 Bridewell ; the latter, as most frequently has been 
 the case, one of those Proteus characters with ta- 
 lents unhappily to match his versatility and his 
 artifice, who, after broaching a variety of strange 
 doctrines from the school, the pulpit, and the lec- 
 ture-room ; at one time a furious demagogue ; at 
 another as loud for monarchy ; now a revolutionist 
 abroad, and now a political incendiary at home : 
 who, like an old courtezan, that, outliving all her 
 charms and her passions, stiffens into prudery and 
 
 R 3 
 
£46 
 
 piety, never misses church, and is shocked at a 
 double entendre; finding that he can neither sub- 
 vert church or state, thinks it politic, by standing 
 forth the champion of humanity, to patch up a 
 tattered reputation, and smother principles which 
 without being, fortunately for the world, com- 
 bustible enough to blaze, betrayed themselves by 
 the offensiveness of their smoke. Nay, I have 
 got my doubts as to the utility of that charity 
 called the Literary Fund, celebrated as it is by the 
 elegant compositions of a Symmons or a Pye; for 
 whom does it profess to benefit ? Decayed authors ; 
 words of very vague and equivocal import. Is it 
 always inquired whether the persons appearing 
 under this title have been authors of genius and 
 merit, who by their writings have promoted the 
 cause of virtue; or, negatively good, have not as- 
 sisted the cause of vice ? Have they considered 
 that many who would wish on such an occasion 
 to class themselves among authors, have, only to 
 expose themselves, deserted the plough or the 
 cobler's stall, and, from mistaking or misapplying 
 their talents, have done an injury to society ? I 
 have myself known some rewarded w ho rather de- 
 served reproof; men certainly of talents, but who 
 hid them under a bushel ; who having just tanta- 
 lized the world with a specimen of what they 
 could do, and not loving exertion, console them- 
 selves with this reflection: I need not work, my 
 name is up, and I have the Literary Fund to resort 
 to." Apologizing for the interruption, Signor 
 Parvidogiio, with much humour, wished to know 
 
247 
 
 if decayed ballad-singers were within the embrace 
 of that charity ; for on the same principle that it 
 is said there would be no thieves if there were no 
 receivers, if there were no ballad-singers there 
 would be no ballad-makers; so far their relation to. 
 authorship is established ; and as accessaries are 
 liable to a participation of punishments, why not 
 of rewards ? But Jones, with more spirit from 
 this trifling rest, continued, " Would it not be 
 more to the honour of this nation to raise a fund 
 for assisting and fostering infant and growing ge- 
 nius, to enable it to stretch its wings, and soar to 
 the heights of literature, by being properly buoyed 
 up, and preventing its falling a prey to the rapa- 
 cious trade, as the booksellers are called; and, 
 perhaps, for bread prostituting itself by writing 
 novels and political pamphlets, to corrupt the 
 morals or foment a faction ? There should be a 
 committee to decide on works of merit, to appor- 
 tion premiums, and give the imprimatur to such 
 as were worthy of publication. It is much nobler 
 to prevent distress than to relieve it. What an 
 humiliating thing it is to think that genius should 
 be obliged to become a beggar at an age when the 
 faculties are impaired! — genius, that, if properly en- 
 couraged at first, might have enabled the possessor 
 to make a provision for age, after having by his 
 talents contributed to the entertainment as well as 
 the improvement of mankind." We were all 
 unanimous in echoing back Jones's sentiments; 
 and the parson, who had been on the move tor 
 some time before, was ri vetted to hear him out 
 
 K 4 
 
248 
 
 who, with a rapture that I thought thequi^t elements 
 he seemed composed of were not capable of feel- 
 ing, exclaimed : " Ay, with genius so fostered, 
 criticism under such control, and the harpy trade 
 disarmed, the press would become a blessing, the 
 treasures of ancient literature would be unlocked, 
 ^and even geoponics, perhaps, would be more 
 duly appreciated :" then ordering his horse, and 
 pinning up his coat, he w T as impatient to be going. 
 We pressed him to stay, but he said his lantern 
 was lighted (it being moonlight), and his presence 
 at home was materially necessary in the morning 
 early, as he was going to give orders about sinking 
 a well on the plan recommended by his Greek 
 geoponical friend, Diophanes. However, we made 
 him promise to meet us the following evening at 
 Deptford Inn, and to accompany us to Stone- 
 henge. 
 
 After the ceremony of parting with our clerical 
 guest was over, and we had resumed our seats, 
 Jones observed, " There is a man who has just 
 left us, the most fortunate creature alive, possessed, 
 one would think, of every ingredient of happi- 
 ness, but who, not content, though he set out in life 
 without any expectations, with having succeeded 
 to an affluent independence, is a prey to imaginary 
 wants and imaginary pretensions, and, conse- 
 quently, to real miseries. He succeeded early in 
 life to a valuable college living, which luckily 
 brought him into the neighbourhood of a gentle- 
 man, a quondam college acquaintance, a bachelor; 
 who dying soon after, left him his whole fortune. 
 
249 
 
 with a noble library, a fine collection of drawings 
 And prints, and a curious cabinet of coins. These 
 ne\v r possessions suddenly showered upon him, in- 
 finitely exceeding his taste, his expenses, or his 
 desires, became a source of new disquietude. His 
 literature was too abstruse to be useful to the world 
 or profitable to himself; and his independence 
 only generated a sort of pride that aspired to at- 
 tentions he had no claim on, and, from his re- 
 cluse life, he had no chance of receiving ; yet the 
 hermit, shrinking from observation, too modest 
 to court notice, and too humble and primitive to 
 figure away as a modern high churchman, thinks 
 his lot hard to have been so overlooked, and that 
 his temples have not felt the embrace of the 
 mitire." The stroke of twelve now put us in mind 
 of retiring, and we separated for the night. AVe 
 rose early, and whilst I was winding up my 
 journal, our masked friends, apologizing for their 
 intrusion, stripped of noses, wigs, and all dis- 
 guise, came to wish us a good morning, with the 
 hope that some accident might again throw us 
 into each other's company. Hearing I have half 
 an hour yet to breakfast, Jones being gone with 
 the landlord of the inn to see a botanist a little 
 way out of the town, and to inquire for a rare 
 plant whose habitat is mentioned in this neigh- 
 bourhood, I shall copy out a little poem of Shake- 
 speare's, which, if it pleases you half as much as 
 it has done me, you will thank me for inclosing. 
 
 Adieu. &c 
 
250 
 
 TO THE PEERLESS*; ANNA, THE MAGNETTE OF MIF. 
 AFFECTION NES. 
 
 Nott that mie native fieldes I leve, 
 
 Svvelles in myne eie the scauiding teare, 
 
 Or bidcies with sighes raye bosom heave, 
 * A wyse man's countrie 's everie wheare : 
 
 Nott that I thus am rucjelye torne f 
 Farre from the muses' haunte I love, 
 
 With manlie mynde this might be borne, 
 
 Else wheare the muse might friendlie proove : 
 
 But, ah ! with thyne mie vitall thredde 
 
 So close is twysted, that to parte 
 Prom thee, or e'er the bridal bedde % 
 
 Was scarselie tastid, breakes mie harte. 
 
 Oh ! would the fatall syster's Steele 
 
 Be streched to cutt her worke inn twayne, 
 
 Wythelde whiche destynes me to feele 
 That lyfe thus lenthen'd is butt payne. 
 
 * In a letter from Milton to Peter Heimbach, as quoted in 
 (hat valuable accession to the biography of this country, the Life 
 of Milton, by Doctor Symmons, I remember an expression, 
 echoed, as it were, from the great dramatist : 
 <e Patria est, ubicunque est" 
 
 \ This seems to have been written on his quitting the country 
 in consequence of his juvenile adventure with a party of deer- 
 steaiers, as the little poem which follows in the collection from 
 Anna clearly settles. 
 
 + By this it appears that Shakespeare had but just been mar- 
 ried when the deer-stealing frolic took place ; a circumstance to 
 which, in all probability, we owe the noblest compositions of 
 human genius. 
 
251 
 
 But yett a wbyle her sheares be stayde, 
 
 For dieing I woold fayne reclyne 
 On Anna's brest, and theare be Jayde 
 
 Wheare Anna's duste mote wedde withe myne. 
 
 Deadfordlnn, November 1 7, 1807. 
 JUT DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Breakfast over at Warminster, and 
 Jones made as happy hy the acquisition of the 
 plant he was in quest of as a barrow-opener can 
 be in the discovery of a new relic, we lost no time 
 to make for Heytesbury, no great distance off, and 
 were no sooner alighted than we called to see the 
 museum, containing the contents of the different 
 tumuli that have been opened for these ten years, 
 under the patronage of Sir Richard Hoare, and 
 the direction of Mr. Cunnington, who has the care 
 and the management of it. This gentleman, who 
 has all the enthusiasm that is necessary to excite 
 the mind to a pursuit of this sort, appeared to be 
 highly gratified by our visit, as well as the zeal 
 we expressed at the prospect of a new epoch in 
 antiquarian literature, from the splendid work Sir 
 Richard Hoare had in contemplation. Nothing 
 could be more curious and systematic than the ar- 
 rangement of the museum : the contents of every 
 tumulus were separate, and the articles so disposed 
 as in the case of ornaments, such as beads, in 
 such elegant knots and festoons, as to please the 
 eve which looks to nothing farther. The story of 
 
 ( s 
 
252 
 
 several was so perfectly told by the relics they 
 contained, that an epitaph could not have let us 
 more into the light of the rank and character of 
 the dead. In one drawer were displayed all the 
 utensils employed to fabricate arrow-heads, other 
 weapons and implements that required sharp 
 points, there being various whetstones, of a coarse 
 and a finer grit, with grooves in each, worn down 
 by the use made of them ; together with bone in 
 its wrought and unwrought state, evidently prov- 
 ing it to have been the sepulchre of an artist, 
 whose employ this was. In another we were 
 shown some flint arrow-heads, very similar to 
 those I saw at Milford, which had been dug out 
 of a turbary in the island of Nantucket, which 
 Mr. Cunnhigton accompanied with the history of 
 the tumulus wherein they lay. About three feet 
 from, the apex of the barrow, in digging they 
 came to the skeleton of a dog, and from the fine- 
 ness of the bones supposed to be of the grey- 
 hound kind ; but when they got to the level of 
 the surrounding ground (where, in general, the 
 interment is found), in the centre, on the an- 
 cient sward then apparent, they came to a heap 
 of ashes, mixed with some few particles of bone, 
 not perfectly calcined, as is always the case, and 
 surrounded by a wreath of stag's horns. In the 
 middle of the ashes were discovered the flint ar- 
 row-heads, and a curious pebble of a reddish co- 
 lour, not casual, but certainly placed there with 
 design, as in that chalk country a pebble of such 
 a character and quality is never seen, probably 
 
253 
 
 some amulet. What a beautiful designation of the 
 hunter's grave ! He told us they met with groups 
 of tumuli sometimes of the prince or chieftain, 
 and all his household, the prince's chiefly larger, 
 but clearly characterized by the richness and sin- 
 gularity of the ornaments and relics ; and many 
 of the others as characteristic of the person whose 
 ashes occupied them. They never find coin in 
 any, which induces me to think that the greater 
 part are prior to the era of mintage ; and seldom 
 have found ornaments of gold. We saw a variety 
 of urns from the height of two feet to one, not 
 twice as big as a thimble. The urns that held the 
 remains of the dead were all rude pottery, and 
 half baked ; but tliere are found often accom- 
 panying skeletons, a vessel they have given the 
 name of drinking cup to ; I presume from a sup- 
 position, that it was filled with some fluid, a viati- 
 cum for the dead, as it is always near the head of 
 the skeleton, with its mouth up, and empty. The 
 pottery of these smaller urns is much thinner, 
 better baked, and more ornamented. When Sir 
 Richard Hoare opens tumuli, a week is generally 
 set apart for the operations, and the Baronet, he 
 told us, is generally attended by a party of his 
 friends ; their head-quarters are sometimes at 
 Amesbury, sometimes at Everlcy, sometimes at 
 Woody eates Inn ; " and in such a company, gen- 
 tlemen," said he, " you may well suppose the timo 
 passes with much festivity and good humour: 
 though they may not all of them be as sanguine 
 barrow-hunters as the learned Baronet, yet they 
 

 254 
 
 are all amateurs in such a degree as to relish the 
 pursuit, and enjoy it. From the collision of 
 great talents much wit must be elicited ; there- 
 fore our entertainments on such occasions cannot 
 fail to be -well seasoned with it ; and, by way of 
 confirmation, permit me to show you a little poem 
 written at one of our parties by a gentleman who, 
 in another part of the kingdom, is desirous, by a 
 similar process on a smaller scale, of illustrating 
 the antiquities of his country, and which, were I 
 even justified in giving his name, would bring no 
 discredit on his muse. To make the poem more 
 intelligible," added he, " though I ought to blush 
 Avhen I own it, as the writer, I fear, has strained 
 his compliment, I am the absent member referred 
 to, being then, to my no small mortification, dis- 
 abled by illness from attending ; but the compli- 
 ment with which the poem closes, applied as it is, 
 will not admit of excess. But let the poetry speak 
 for itself; and therefore permit me," said he, " to 
 present you with a copy of it; the subject in it- 
 self, though truly dignified, and thought so by 
 the poet, is treated with so much characteristic 
 pleasantry, as to induce those to read it who may 
 have been in the habit of treating all the pursuits 
 of the antiquary, particularly the opening of tu- 
 muli, with indiscriminate ridicule, and stimulate 
 such to digress a little from the high road of 
 fashion, to examine the interesting deposit I have 
 the honour of taking charge of, who, having 
 seen it, may retire with a more just and favourable 
 estimate of our labours, and acknowledge tha^t too 
 
£55 
 
 much praise cannot be bestowed on the learned 
 and liberal patron of them." I wish, Charles, you 
 had been with us, as I am certain you would have 
 found it a rich treat; we both allowed that we 
 never passed a couple of hours more to our satis- 
 faction. It was not only the things we saw, so 
 totally new to us, that we were so much delighted 
 with; Mr. Cunnington's illustrative account of the 
 different articles displayed very considerable powers 
 of mind, as well as originality, and was conveyed 
 in a language and a manner peculiarly his own, 
 and left us in admiration of acquirements so rarely 
 met with in men of his rank and calling, who af- 
 fected no other character than that of a respect- 
 able tradesman. His knowledge was not confined 
 to those primitive sepulchres whose contents he 
 presided over, and mere antiquarianism. As a na- 
 turalist he had some claim on notice, havin^inade 
 large collections relating to mineralogy and fossils, 
 and Jones allowed him more than superficial know- 
 ledge in botany. On our acquainting him with 
 our route by Stonehenge to Salisbury, he lamented 
 much his not having it in his power to accom- 
 pany us then to a spot which had occupied much 
 of his thought, and which, often as he b lc! vi- 
 :d it, he always saw with new d ■' lit; but on 
 our saying that we meant to stop that night at 
 Deadford Inn, he promised to attend us the follow* 
 ing morning if we would permit him, and would 
 call on us by ten o'clock, lie pressed us to take 
 some refreshments, which we accepted, and after- 
 wards stepped into the mail, then going by, there 
 
255 
 
 being places, that passed the inn we were to lodge 
 at. Our company in the mail for the few miles we 
 had to go were, a boatswain of a man of war and his 
 wife, who had been at Bristol to see some relations, 
 and were returning to Plymouth. The tar was a 
 man of a decent appearance, bore marks of his 
 having served his country in the loss of an eye, and 
 had no disposition to be taciturn ; so that, during 
 our short ride, the glory of the navy of England 
 proved an inexhaustible source of conversation- 
 He talked much of Nelson ; he said, as to naval 
 tactics, he was at sea what Bonaparte is by land : 
 he settled an engagement as men would play at 
 chess ; he knew the moves and the chances, as far 
 as a mortal could know them, and Heaven had so 
 gifted him, that he seldom moved or calculated, 
 wrong. He was no less bold and decisive in the 
 execution, than he was skilled in the forming of 
 his plans. Who but he could have got us out of 
 the scrape of Copenhagen ? it was neck or nothing. 
 " I was in it all," cried he, " being on board 
 Captain Foley's ship, as brave an officer as ever 
 trod the quarter-deck ; and this Lord Nelson 
 knew." One nautical anecdote followed another 
 in rapid and uninterrupted succession till we were 
 set down at Deadford Inn, where we found Jones's 
 friend just alighted, not having yet unpinned the 
 flaps of his coat. I call this place, meo pericttfo, 
 Deadford, though usually spelt Deptford, being a 
 village on the river Wily, the fords on which, 
 from its slowness of current, particularly at this 
 4 
 
257 
 
 place, must have been of that character to entitle 
 it to the epithet dead. 
 
 While dinner was getting ready we had time 
 to read the poem which Mr. Cunnington had pre- 
 sented us with ; and Jones, who you know writes 
 faster than any man I ever knew, and more legibly, 
 undertook to copy it, that it might be inclosed to 
 you, which I send, with all its notes, just as it 
 was communicated to us. Our dinner over, and 
 our wine and dessert of biscuits, apples, and wal- 
 nuts being placed on a smaller table, we ap- 
 proached the fire, and every thing around us seemed 
 to wear an air of comfort, though it would not 
 bear a comparison with that of Stcurton. Our 
 guest said he had been so fortunate as to find the 
 water he had sought for after the mode recom- 
 mended by an ancient geoponic writer, Paxamus*; 
 and as to his reservoir for collecting it, he fol- 
 lowed Diophanes, the Bithynian. But in the pre- 
 paration of his mead, great as his veneration was 
 for his old Greek friends, he preferred Queen Eli- 
 zabeth's receipt for making it, as communicated 
 by old Fuller, who says, the Queen, by reason of 
 her Tudor blood, was very partial to it, and so 
 must every one be who should experience, as he 
 had done, the good effects of it on the constitu- 
 tion. Warner, who wrote on the gout, is of opi- 
 nion, that if no other liquor than whey was drank 
 as a common beverage, and mead as the only 
 wine, it would entirely eradicate this excruciating 
 disorder. He told us he had some fifteen years 
 old, which to men of nice discriminating palates, 
 
<258 
 
 and used to rich foreign wines, he had passed off 
 as the produce of a Sicilian grape. He followed 
 the ancients only in one species, called Rhodo- 
 jnelites, which he brewed according to a prescrip- 
 tion of Berytius, who lived in the time of Adrian. 
 Jones wishing to get rid of the geoponics, and 
 yet pay his friend's learning a just compliment, 
 observed, " That in reading those ancient authors, 
 there must be great difficulty in finding out the 
 true meaning of their technical terms." — " That," 
 replied the parson, " is the only difficulty, and 
 many of the terms must ever remain unexplained." 
 — " Don't you think, then, Sir," said Jones, " that 
 my namesake, Sir William Jones, gave proof of 
 his profound knowledge of the Greek in his 
 translation of the speeches of Isasus, the true 
 chancery cases of that day?" — " Certainly," said 
 the parson, " it is a splendid monument of his learn- 
 ing : as a scholar he was, indeed, a great man ; 
 but I think he sacrificed too much to oriental lite- 
 rature and Hindoo mythology; had he devoted 
 half the time he gave up to the oriental languages 
 to that truly venerable, comprehensive, and, un- 
 questionably, original language, the Welsh, he 
 might have found means of unlocking treasures to 
 which such studies would have supplied him with 
 a key that in his hand might have done wonders ; 
 but though he had several times, in my hearing (for 
 we were at College the same time), confessed that 
 he would exchange any two of his languages for 
 the Welsh, yet he never could be brought to en- 
 counter it, such were the prejudices he had con- 
 
259 
 
 ceived against the practicability of acquiring a 
 knowledge of it, yet I strongly suspect that pride 
 had a share in this irresolution; for though his 
 father was a Welshman born and bred, and had a 
 name that of itself almost stamped him of that 
 country, vet when, by the patronage of the Earl 
 of Macclesfield shown to his great abilities, he 
 had arrived at a state of independence, and mixed 
 with the higher circles, he studiously avoided 
 being thought of a country that he must have 
 conceived himself disgraced by, before he would 
 take the pains he did to conceal his origin and lose 
 sight of his kindred ; and this sort of pitiful 
 pride, this littleness of mind, in other respects the 
 truly great man, his son was not free from ; who, 
 with all his talents and boasted acquirements, that 
 would confer lustre and dignity on any origin, yet 
 was not possessed of philosophy enough not to be 
 disconcerted by any thing which glanced at the 
 lowness of his own, I mean comparatively, be- 
 cause he could not trace his pedigree to the nobles 
 of the land, of whom Goldsmith says, 
 
 ' A breath can make them, as a breath has made j* 
 
 but the honest yeomanry of Old Mona." You 
 will perceive from the emphatical close of his sen- 
 tence, that our guest is an ancient Briton, if not a 
 native of the Druid island. I saw a kindred spirit 
 mantling over Jones's countenance at the just 
 censure passed on feelings so unworthy the great 
 man referred to, which was ready to burst into 
 compliment, when, having the start of him, and 
 
260 
 
 addressing myself to the parson, " I honour you, 
 Sir, for your sentiments, and the exultation of 
 pride with which you speak of your country ; a 
 country to pride one's self on, from what I have 
 seen and know of it, and of late I have had a 
 considerable acquaintance with it ; for wliat spot 
 on earth can be more beautifully diversified, pic- 
 turesque, without too great a proportion of the 
 barren and the sterile, rich on its surface, yet 
 richer beneath, as its embowelled wealth is inex- 
 haustible, with as much hospitality and patriotism 
 as the Irish, without their captiousness and Qui- 
 xotism (for you must allow the dear little island 
 has too much of that), and as much learning as 
 the Scotch, without their reserve, their harsh- 
 ness, their pedantry and temporizing supple- 
 ness to turn it to account; to say nothing 
 of its noble language and its literary trea- 
 sures, every year unfolding, particularly its ethics, 
 which, since I have been let into the light 
 of by specimens of our friend Jones's trans- 
 lation, I am truly astonished at, and am bold to 
 pronounce superior to any thing handed. c(own to 
 us of that kind from the ancients, not even the 
 golden verses of Pythagoras excepted, and which, 
 I trust, will find a native Hierocles to diffuse their 
 fame." — " And you," saidJones> "have only had 
 a sample of the moral triads ; they had their his- 
 torical, poetical, and satirical triads, into which 
 they found means of compressing more matter, 
 sentiment, and point, than any human composi- 
 tion o?*the same extent can boast of; for what 
 
661 
 
 can exceed the justness of thought and the com- 
 prehensiveness of the following poetical triads ? 
 
 Tair sail awen ; rhodd duw, ymgais dyn, a 
 damwain bywyd. 
 
 The three foundations of genius ; the gift of 
 God, man's exertion, and the chances of life. 
 
 Tri phriv anhepgor awen ; llygad yn gweled 
 anian, calon yn teimlaw, a glewder, a vaidd gyd- 
 vyned ag anian. 
 
 . The three indispensable requisites of genius; an 
 eye to see nature, a heart to feel nature, and bold- 
 ness and perseverance to go along with nature. 
 
 Tri harddwch cerdd; mawl heb druth, nwyv 
 heb anlladrwydd, a dychan heb serthyd. 
 
 The three ornaments of song ; praise without 
 flattery, gaiety without licentiousness, and satire 
 without vulgarity. 
 
 " Then, for satire, what can be more pointed than 
 the following, though rather ungallant ? 
 
 Tri feth sydd ar wraig, a garo weled y cyntav 
 nis anghar y ddau aralli, wyncb ei hun mcwn 
 drych, cevyn ci gwr o bell, a gordderchwr yn ei 
 gwely. 
 
 There are three things, of which if a woman 
 likes the first, she will have no dislike to the other 
 two : to see her own face in a glass, her husband's 
 back far off, and a gallant in her bed. 
 
 .6 3 
 
262 
 
 " And who knows Avhat mines of such wealth 
 are yet to be discovered, were private cabinets 
 more liberally opened to research, and public li- 
 braries better arranged ?" 
 
 Jones, by his rapturous panegyric, had touched 
 the chord that reached the very soul of his friend, 
 rousing all that was Briton in him, till his enthu- 
 siasm knew no bounds, and even geoponics were 
 forgotten. Then addressing himself to Jones, Ck I 
 am happy," said he, " to find that, much as you 
 have been out of it, you have not been seduced 
 to forget your country, and that your Saxon com- 
 panion, uncontaminated by that cockney narrow-, 
 ness of conception that induces half the English 
 to suppose that Wales is an imperfect sort of crea- 
 tion, has the virtue and the liberality to allow it 
 all the merit it so justly is entitled to. Thus 
 richly endowed, beautified, protected, and bounded, 
 it would seem as if Heaven had ordained Wales to 
 be a sanctuary to preserve a genuine remnant of 
 mankind." 
 
 I know not how it is, Charles, with your coun- 
 trymen, and the Caledonians, but nationality has 
 such an effect on these Welshmen, that not only 
 their voice assumes a more dignified tone, and their 
 language becomes more figurative, but with the 
 enlargement of the mind their very forms seem to 
 dilate. After this colloquy on stilts there was no, 
 bringing them down to the sermo pedestris, and I 
 thought it cruel to provoke them with common 
 topics, so I voted for retiring, that they might 
 chew the cud on this. The morning has risen 
 
263 
 
 most auspiciously for our Stonehengc excursion, 
 and we are hurrying through all our business, to 
 be prepared to attend the summons of our pilot of 
 the downs, whom we expect every moment ; 
 therefore Jones is at his post, making breakfast, 
 while his friend, by a recapitulation of some of 
 the subjects which so interested them last night, 
 makes the tea-brewer almost forget, if not ashamed 
 of, the process employed in producing so unheroic 
 a beverage, which the parson still hopes he shall 
 live to see supplanted by toast and mead, after 
 Queen Bess's receipt, in old Fuller, the only 
 chance of restoring our primitive stamina, that 
 the plant of China had destroyed. You know I 
 am a furious breakfast-eater, and how I hate to be 
 hurried at that most delicious of all repasts, 
 though it lack the Cambrian hydromel, so strongly 
 recommended by our clerical guest ; so adieu till 
 we get to Salisbury, 
 
 P. S. I hope to be in London in three or four 
 days : your letters then in future must be addressed 
 to my Chambers. 
 
 A BARROW-OPENIXG AT EVERLEY, AUTUMN 1805. 
 
 Day has pal'd his gairish light, 
 And yields his empire to the night 5 
 The spirits of the neighb'ring down 
 Claim the season as their own, 
 In murky mists as hov'ring round, 
 They circle «ach his separate mound, 
 5 4 
 
£64 
 
 And, with sad. terrific yells, 
 $fourn their violated cells. 
 
 In this dark, this witching hour, 
 First let us due libations pour j 
 And be the awful tribute shed 
 3fd reconcile the mighty dead 5 
 Bur watch, and see no eye profane 
 Peep on us through trie broken pane * 5 
 And that none with footsteps rude 
 On our mysteries intrude : 
 Then let the solemn rites begin, 
 Bring the urns, the largest, in f 5 
 Round them all the smallest place; 
 Like satellites their state to grace j 
 And let the spear and dagger's pride 
 Rival each other, side by side ; 
 Bring many a relic green as leek, 
 Crusted with the verd antique -> 
 The drinking-cup, with nothing in't; 
 Arrow-heads of bone and. flint y 
 With the leaves of gold that shone 
 On the Arch-druid's breast alone, 
 When his office bade him go 
 To cut the sacred mistletoe j 
 Whetstones bring of every kind, 
 From the coarse to the refin'd \ 
 Amulets of various form, 
 Gifted to raise or lay the storm j 
 The talisman of power to steep 
 The lid of care in balmy sleep 5 
 
 * This was literally the case, the window of the inn being in 
 a shattered state. 
 
 f As a finale to the entertainment, on the last .evening of our 
 meeting, the different urns and other relics, the produce of our 
 researches, were laid out- with great taste on the board after 
 dinner, as an .antiquarian dessert. 
 
£«5 
 
 And the adder-stone, whose sway 
 
 The spirits of the deep obey ; 
 
 In festoons then round them set 
 
 Beads of amber and of jet ; 
 
 Next bring the smallest urn we have, 
 
 Taken from a Druid's grave, 
 
 Urn which we the thimble call, 
 
 Than nest of humming-bird more smatt, 
 
 With a precious balsam fill'd 
 
 By magic's wondrous power distill'd, 
 
 Essence of rarest gums and clews, 
 
 Which Tydain *, parent of the muse, 
 
 From Drfrobani's distant shore 
 
 To his much-lov'd Britain bore, 
 
 Unchangeable in smell and taste, 
 
 Not subject to corrupt or waste ; 
 
 The flame approaching, let it melt, 
 
 And through the loop-hole of a celt 
 
 Drop three drops into the fire, 
 
 The mystic number we require ; 
 
 Whence issuing a perfume is found 
 
 To purify the space around, 
 
 Of potency to guard from blights 
 
 'Gender'd in autumnal nights, 
 
 And th' initiated to screen 
 
 From every harm that lurks unseen ; 
 
 With many a flinty arrow-head, 
 
 Found in the hunter's narrow bed, 
 
 'Bove which, companion of the chase, 
 
 His faithful dog had burial-place : 
 
 Lastly, bring the relic known 
 
 To be the rarest thing we own ; 
 
 The kidney pebble, which appears 
 
 Once, perhaps, a thousand years, 
 
 * Tydain Tad Awen, the father of the muse, makes an illus- 
 trious figure in the Welsh historical triads ; soma will have him 
 
 to be the same with Taut or Hermes. 
 
266 
 
 Tor all the ills a sovereign cure 
 Which sportsmen in their reins endure. 
 
 Nothing now, I ween, remains 
 But to chaunt old Arcol's strains, 
 Which to hymn the day he chose, 
 When Abury's mountain columns rose ; 
 And, the stupendous labour o'er, 
 His harp he vow'd to string no more : 
 In the chorus, got by heart, 
 Let John and Stephen * bear a part : 
 Illustrious barrow pioneers ! 
 Who never yet have had their peers. 
 But the notes seem flat and dull, 
 The choir is not as usual full 5 
 Full how can the concert be, 
 For Druid Mordred, where is he, 
 At our solemnities whose pride 
 And office still was to preside ? 
 Whilst aguish vapours cloud his sight, 
 Hating converse, hating light j 
 See ! where in his Hakpen Hw$r f 
 He languishes away the hour, 
 Dead to its furniture around, 
 And rich mosaic on the ground. 
 Great Mordred absent, who can tell 
 How to pronounce the closing spell ? 
 Which, supplied by him alone, 
 Demands a more majestic tone 5 
 
 * The two labourers, father and son, who are constantly em- 
 ployed on this work. 
 
 f Alluding to a bower which the gentleman here alluded to, 
 Mr. Cunnington, of Heytesbury, has so arranged, as to repre- 
 sent on its floor, with different coloured pebbles, the plan of 
 Abury, which was one of the grandest temples ever designed by 
 man , consisting of an immense circle of twenty-two acres, with 
 an avenue on each side of a mile long, to figure a winged ser- 
 pent. Hakpen is an oriental word signifying the serpent's head. 
 
267 
 
 Then, till health restore our friend, 
 Abrupt our ceremonies end. 
 Quick the relics then withdraw, 
 With regret, but mix'd with awe. 
 Or shrieks of troubled ghosts I hear ? 
 Or is it fancy mocks my ear ? 
 Rest, perturbed spirits, rest, 
 Vanish and mingle with the bless'd j 
 Think no longer, that, your foes, 
 We come to break your dread repose j 
 But from motives pure we trust 
 To scrape acquaintance with your dust j 
 Those numerous piles of pious toil 
 Man may level with the soil ; 
 But with all the beauteous swells 
 Which cover your sepulchral cells. 
 Whatever changes be their lot, 
 If swept away and clean forgot, 
 This sacred, death-devoted plain 
 In Crocker s * colours shall remain ; 
 For know, the costly page that saves 
 From chance of future spoil your graves, 
 The splendid monument by Hoare 
 Shall last till time shall be no more ! 
 
 Stourton, November 1Q, 1S07. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 After an interval of two days I again 
 resume my pen, to give you a cursory account of 
 
 * A most ingenious draftsman, who attends Sir Richard 
 Hoare on these occasions to make drawings of the contents of 
 the tumuli, as well as tumuli themselves, for illustrating the 
 learned Baronet's intended work. 
 
268 
 
 the manner in which it has been employed, and of 
 the things we have seen and heard. Our Cicerone 
 from Heytesbury was punctual to a minute, and 
 there was no delay on our parts to attend him. 
 After congratulating us on the fineness of the 
 day, he asked us how we meant to travel : we an- 
 swered, in a post-chaise. — " Why, then," said he, 
 " Gentlemen, you must permit me to have the 
 conduct of it as to its pace and its pauses, as I 
 should w T ish to show you some things in the way, 
 and introduce you to the principal object with the 
 greatest effect ; therefore I must stipulate for re- 
 gulating every stage of this excursion." For all 
 the apparent mock solemnity couched under this 
 mysterious caveat we were at a loss to account, 
 yet we professed to submit ourselves entirely to 
 his direction. On our road to Stonehenge our in- 
 telligent guide showed us camps and ancient Bri- 
 tish trackways, and made most judicious observa- 
 tions on every thing he called our attention to ; 
 but we had not got many miles before our con- 
 ductor ordered a halt, insisting, for reasons he 
 was certain we should hereafter approve of, that 
 we should continue to proceed the remainder of 
 the road with the blinds of our chaise up ; a mo- 
 tion we most cheerfully complied with. Thus in 
 darkness and durance we travelled rapidly for a 
 few miles, till our captain, with a most majestic 
 tone, issued the word of command, " Stop, down 
 with the blinds ;" when, lo ! we found ourselves 
 within the area of the gigantic peristyle of Stone- 
 i ige. In every approach to this stupendous 
 
le, particularly that which we took, it is seen 
 >r some miles before you reach it, and every eye 
 ill discover it too soon ; so that on this extended 
 ►lain at such a distance it appears nothiug, and by 
 me time you are at it all astonishment ceases ; but 
 when it bursts suddenly and all at once on the 
 eye, as it did on ours, not familiarized by a gra- 
 duated approximation, the effect is wonderful. 
 I know not if the subject of Stonehenge has ever 
 occupied your attention ; if it had, I think, I 
 should have known it ; and, therefore, on the sup- 
 position that you are still a stranger to the various 
 opinions entertained of this majestic monument of 
 antiquity, you may not think a summary of the 
 whole tedious, as Jones's vade-mecum furnishes 
 me with a brief account of the hypothesis of 
 every writer who has touched upon it. The triads 
 mention it as one of the three great works. 
 
 Jeffrey of Monmouth ascribes the erection of 
 it to Merlin, who, as he lived in the time of Au- 
 relius Ambrosius, in Welsh Emrys, is called 
 Merddin Emrys, to commemorate the Saxon 
 treachery in the massacre of the British nobles 
 there assembled, to meet Hengist (and the true 
 Saxon name is Stonhengist). It seems the honour 
 of having given a place first to these wonderful 
 columns, is by many allowed to your country, 
 and that they once stood on the Curragh of Kiklare, 
 but that Merlin by magic that he was supposed 
 to be skilled in, removed them to the plain on 
 which they now stand; though Jones accounts 
 for this without magic or the aid of the devil, 
 
270 
 
 whom Merlin was said to have employed as his 
 chief engineer on this occasion, by supposing 
 Merlin or Merddin a great mechanic for that age, 
 to have been sent to Ireland to survey your more 
 ancient Stonehenge, and to have raised this on the 
 model of it; a work so colossal, and, for the rude 
 era we may date it from, such an evidence of art 
 and improvement in mechanism when compared 
 Tvith the massive simplicity of the colonnade of 
 Abury, that it is no wonder they should resort to 
 preternatural means to account for it. Camden 
 considers it a piece of work such as Cicero calls 
 insanam sub struct lonem \ for says he, " There are 
 erected in form of a crown, in three ranks or 
 courses, one within another, certain mighty 
 stones, whereof some are twenty-eight feet high 
 and seven broad, on the heads of which others 
 rest crosswise, with tenon and mortise, so that 
 the whole frame seems to hang, and therefore 
 Stonehang or henge." Without entering into 
 much argument, he rather laments that the history 
 of so curious a monument is so, obscure; adding, 
 that in his time there were some of opinion that 
 the stones were not natural, but an artificial com- 
 position. Inigo Jones will have it to be a Roman 
 temple of the Tuscan order, to the god Coelum or 
 Terminus; a hypothesis which his son-in-law, 
 Webb, has endeavoured to defend with a great 
 deal of learning and ingenious sophistry. In op- 
 position to him, Doctor Charlton as strenuously 
 assigns it to the Danes, and endeavours to prove 
 that it was built to amuse themselves during their 
 
271 
 
 short-lived triumph, whilst Alfred was in conceal- 
 ment. Sammes conceits it to have been the work 
 of the Phoenicians. Aubrey contends for its 
 having been a temple of the Druids long before 
 the time of the Romans. Doctor Stukely follows 
 him, but with all the visionariness that his fine 
 fancy was capable of. Wood is nearly of the 
 same opinion, but delivers himself more soberly 
 in his treatise. A lecturer on the subject in 1792 
 will have it to be a vast theodolite for observing 
 the motions of the heavenly bodies. A whimsical 
 tract among Hearncs collections, entitled, " A 
 Fool's Bolt soon shot at Stonage," maintains, but 
 not with much humour, that it commemorates a 
 bloody battle over the Belgae by the Cangick 
 giants; whilst in a manuscript Jones saw with 
 an uncle of his, in the Welsh language, said to be 
 written by Humphrey Llwyd, evidently a piece of 
 ingenious raillery, it is made out to be a play- 
 place of the giant race, where the game was a sort 
 of complicated cricket, and that the holes observ- 
 able in some of the stones were occasioned by the 
 balls striking against them. That it was a grand 
 conventional circle of the Britons there can be no 
 doubt, and long subsequent to Abury and many 
 other lesser works of that character to be found 
 over England and Wales, as in its formation the 
 pure principles of forming such circles, which 
 would admit of no art, were in some degree aban- 
 doned — a proof that at this period probably Chris- 
 tianity had begun to interfere with the institution. 
 As to the stones, certainly not found near, some 
 
272" 
 
 contencl tliat they are of various qualities and 
 countries : granite, jasper, porphyry, and granu- 
 lated quartz ; that the altar-stone is a species of 
 porphyry, from the Black Mountain in South 
 Wales ; and that others are from the Pyrenees 
 and Finland, no such being found in this island ; 
 but the majority are disposed to trace them all to 
 one family, to the Grey Wethers near Marlbo- 
 rough, about thirty miles off, a tract of sloping 
 ground still dotted with numerous stones appear- 
 ing on the surface, the loose sandy soil in which 
 these nuclei were bedded having in the course of 
 ages been washed away ; and to corroborate this 
 opinion, our intelligent Cicerone, Mr. Cunnington, 
 who in his remarks on every thing he attempts to 
 speak on is clear and convincing, showed us at inter- 
 vals some of the stones that in the carriage tothespot 
 had been dropped, exactly in the direction to the 
 Grey Wethers. The day being bright and plea- 
 sant, we traversed this vast plain in every direc- 
 tion, were shown the cursus, which plainly tells 
 its story to this day, on a scale to suit the magni- 
 ficence of Stonehenge ; and groups of tumuli df 
 all sizes, most of which had been opened under 
 the inspection of Mr. Cunnington, who enter- 
 tained us with a most interesting account of the 
 discoveries made in them, and ingenious deduc- 
 tions from their contents to ascertain their age 
 and their comparative rank. There was a group 
 called the Prophet barrows, which he said had 
 been productive of a number of curious articles:; 
 but being asked how they came to have that ap- 
 
 4 
 
273 
 
 pellation, he informed us that the French pro- 
 phets, a set of fanatic impostors in the early part 
 of the last century, from these elevated mounds 
 were used to deliver their oracular doctrines, 
 which, wild as they were, like those of Joanna 
 Southcote's at this day, had a large party to give 
 them countenance. The group, he said, belonged 
 to the Rev. Mr. Duke, an amateur antiquary, 
 whom he had the pleasure of attending when they 
 were explored; a circumstance that had been 
 made the subject of the same gentleman's muse, 
 who recorded the Everley treat, in three sonnets, 
 which though too flattering to him, yet as he con- 
 sidered the little praise he was entitled to or re- 
 ceived as part of the main compliment to the 
 great patron of the undertaking, even when Sir 
 Richard Hoare's name was not mentioned, he 
 hoped he might be permitted to refer to with- 
 out the charge of any unbecoming vanity, 
 and request our acceptance of, to commemorate 
 this day's excursion, which he had the honour of 
 conducting; and as I know you are as fond of 
 poetry as of the subject of the specimen in ques- 
 tion, I send you the sonnets, which, I agree with 
 Jones, have a great deal of spirit, and perhaps 
 more so frpm being bastards, for they are stamped 
 with illegitimacy. 
 
 I am < told that your Curragh of Kildare ha* 
 sprrie kindred features with this awful plain, and 
 that, though you have been robbed of your Stone- 
 henge, your tumuli still remain, and examined, if 
 
S74 
 
 at all, very partially and immethodically. May it 
 be reserved for you to illustrate this venerable na- 
 tional record, and by so doing throw a light on 
 your early history. I assure you I have seep and 
 heard so much of those primitive sepulchres, that, 
 had I your fortune, there is no pursuit I should af- 
 fect with more avidity. 
 
 Having consumed the day in our rambles, we 
 took up our quarters for the night at Amesbury, 
 a town on the skirts of the downs. Here is an 
 old mansion in a very ruinous state, formerly the 
 favourite retreat of the late Duke and Duchess of 
 Queensberry ; and in the groves that embosom it 
 were once heard the melodious strains of Prior 
 and Gay, 
 
 *' \yhen Kitty was beautiful and young j" 
 where now only 
 
 " The moping owl does to the moon complain/' I 
 
 The house, I believe, has never been inhabited 
 since the Duchess's time, and the manor annexed 
 to it is rented for five hundred pounds per annum 
 by Sir James Mansfield, Chief Justice of the 
 Common Pleas, to supply him with game; but 
 chiefly for the sport of coursing, which he is pas- 
 sionately fond of, and where he runs down hares 
 with as much eagerness as Jbe once did chancery 
 causes, though the suits here have a quicker end. 
 The old Judge is at the head of a coursing club 
 which meets here in autumn annually for a week, 
 
275 
 
 during which time all the members in their turns 
 ' make and are made examples of" a favourite ex- 
 pression among the Greyhound Hunt. 
 
 The inn at Stourhead made us fastidious as to our 
 accommodations; and being the scale we applied to 
 every house we stopped at, no wonder that so 
 few came up to the standard ; yet in the present 
 case, the whole day in keen air on the downs had 
 given us an appetite for food and fire, and, so there 
 was a sufficiency of both, we were indifferent as to 
 the cookery or the colliery. Our evening, it is 
 true, wanted the sal Atticum of our masked friends, 
 but it had its competent seasoning of the: utile 
 and the duke. In the recapitulation of our day's 
 adventures Mr. Cunnington convinced us that he 
 was no superficial antiquary, but was a man 
 of strong understanding and exquisite sensibi- 
 lity. Jones's clerical friend gave us several 
 anecdotes of the late Duchess of Queensberry, 
 whom he represented to the last as- retaining traces 
 of great beauty, which her strange manner of 
 dress, in spite of all fashion, and calculated to 
 produce an ugly disguise, and even age, could not 
 subdue; and if the lustre of her eyes in the last 
 year of life was remarkable, what must it have 
 been at the a^e when Prior in his beautiful song com- 
 pared her to Phaeton, borro wing her mamma's chariot 
 for a day to set the world on fire ! He said that 
 long after, at a time when their fire might be sup- 
 posed to be abated, there was a story current of a 
 carter with a pipe in his mouth happening to p 
 
 T S 
 
$76 
 
 by her carriage with the Duchess in it as it 
 stopped at a silk-mercer's, and struck with her 
 beauty and the irresistible brilliancy of her eyes, 
 begged the favour of lighting his pipe at them — a 
 compliment she was always proud of referring to 
 when her admirers used to flatter, saying, That's 
 nothing to the carter. '" And pray, Sir," said I, 
 " do you think that any lady possessed of her 
 great understanding could have been gratified by 
 such hyperbolical adulation ?"— -" Yes, Sir, I 
 really do think it ; Solon's Tvu9t osavjcv, which was 
 said to have been dropped from heaven, does not 
 seem to have been picked up by many of us ; ftie 
 very best and wisest of men are too apt to form 
 erroneous opinions of themselves; and we are all, 
 perhaps, too much addicted to conceit that our 
 deserts are greater than they are ; then praise be- 
 comes more or less flattery in proportion to the 
 excess of slich conceit. I was," continued he,, 
 " at the same time of the same college with 
 Charles Fox, at Oxford, and knew him well .then 
 and after he had become a conspicuous public cha- 
 racter. I believe the world allows him to have 
 been possessed of as vigorous and manly an .under- 
 standing, and less affectation, than most of his 
 contemporaries, the young men of fashion of the 
 day, could boast 01 ; yet so ignorant was he of 
 Solon's heaven-descended scroll, and so little con- 
 scious of that infirmity which is the last and most 
 difficult to overcome, that he was often heard to 
 profess that he was not accessible to the vanity of 
 adulation ; wherefore there was a trap laid to as* 
 
277 
 
 certain how fai* his professions would bear him 
 out; and, though the bait was obvious, it took, and 
 the great statesman was caught. A noble Earl 
 now living, with Mr. Hare, and several of his 
 other intimate friends, being of a party with Mr. 
 Fox once, in the country, agreed to assent to 
 every thing he proposed and extol every thing he 
 uttered, however repugnant to their own senti- 
 ments, or however absurd in itself; but after two 
 or three days passed in this sort of masquerade, 
 they asked him if he seriously thought them in 
 earnest when they approved of all the inconsist- 
 encies that fell from him during that time : Fox, 
 like an electric shock, feeling the force of the 
 appeal, and obliged to own his weakness, replied, 
 f That never struck me, but I never passed two 
 1 such pleasant days in my life.' " Recurring to 
 the Duchess, Jones said he was told, that after the 
 death of her son, by grief her natural liveliness 
 of disposition was sublimed into a wild eccentri- 
 city, bordering at times on a slight derangement, 
 and numerous instances of a conduct to prove it 
 are on record ; for she has been known to go 
 into a shop in the city, and to have taken a parti- 
 cular liking to the shopkeeper's wife for no other 
 reason than that she resembled the late Empress 
 of Russia, which was followed up by repeated 
 calls, and an inquiry into their circumstances and 
 views, ending in Her Grace's getting a place of 
 six hundred pounds a year under Government for 
 the husband, besides making them many very 
 
 T 3 
 
27S 
 
 ample presents; yet their conduct in life was such 
 as merited reproof rather than encouragement or 
 reward; whereas on a worthy family, who had 
 fallen from affluence by unavoidable misfortunes 
 to extreme distress, though their condition was 
 properly set forth with the most respectable cre- 
 dentials by this recent object of her bounty, she 
 never bestowed a farthing. Surely, to say the best 
 of such capricious benevolence, it was, as Mr, 
 Pope expresses it, l( doing good by whim." As I 
 found that Jones's friend was in the habit of visit- 
 ing Alma Mater every year, never missing a com* 
 memoration, and that he was perfectly acquainted 
 with, and seemingly felt an interest in the dis- 
 cipline and regulations of the University of 
 Oxford, and as I had there the orphan son of 
 a poor relation, to whom I am guardian, who is 
 now on the point of passing his first examination, 
 I was anxious to know what he thought of the 
 late mode adopted, if it was calculated to sift real 
 genius, or only puzzle by quaint set questions, 
 which those who ask have always by rote, and 
 the asked may answer by the same means?— *• 
 " Why, Sir," replied our clerical guest, " I can^ 
 not say that the examinations, as they are now 
 conducted, are what, in my humble opinion, they 
 ought to be ; certainly they are stricter ; that is, 
 they don't make it a mere matter of form, as it 
 was in your time, and in mine, long before ; but 
 still the examination is that ( of schoolboys, all 
 mechanical, and to young men of real genius very 
 humiliating; while the examiners, with too pe- 
 
m 
 
 antic a scrupulosity, make quantity, accent, or 
 some such secondary consideration the test of 
 those qualifications by which the examined are to 
 rise or fall, though the best classical scholar I ever 
 remember never could read ten lines either in 
 Latin or Greek without a lapse or two of that 
 kind; yet, notwithstanding, no man understood 
 his author better, or talked or wrote those lan- 
 guages more critically or fluently. A superficial 
 mechanical logician, such as I fear most of the 
 examiners are, is a contemptible tiling, and vet a 
 smattering: of logic is much insisted on at this 
 probation ; and I am bold to contend that even 
 too much stress is laid on mathematics, and many 
 an excellent scholar in other respects, for want of 
 readiness in this science, has been rejected ; or, 
 to use the vulgar scholastic term, plucked. Now 
 let us see who the probationers are : if you ex- 
 cept a few young men of fashion, the majority of 
 whom aspire to nothing above four-in-hand, there 
 are ten trained to the church for one that is de- 
 stined for any other profession. Ought not, then, 
 theology and ethics to make a part of this proba- 
 tionary catechism? and that to consist not merely 
 of the construction of the Greek Testament and 
 Grotius, and of Aristotle or Seneca, but of a 
 competent knowledge of that religion which 
 springs from the harmony of the Gospels, and of 
 that moral philosophy whose fruit is never racy 
 and valuable but as it is grafted on it? or, in other 
 words, ought mathematics to be encouraged 
 
 t 4 
 
280 
 
 almost to the exclusion of religions a science which, 
 I fear, by engendering arrogance and presump- 
 tion, and inducing its possessors to withhold their 
 assent from every thing that cannot be proved, as 
 if what is only the subject of faith, revelation, could 
 be demonstrated like a problem in Euclid." 
 
 Thus passed our evening till near eleven, when 
 our antiquarian oracle and the divine took their 
 leave of us and retired, as they both had occa- 
 sion to be off early ; the one to explore a British 
 village on the downs, and the other to complete 
 his hydraulics after the manner of the ancients. 
 The next morning our guests had not much the 
 start of us, for we had left our beds and break- 
 fasted betimes, wishing to make the most of the 
 short clay. To Old Sarum we had not far to go, 
 one of the most curious specimens that we have of 
 the mixed work of the different periods at which, 
 and people by whom, it was occupied; there being 
 still extant manifest traces of its British, Roman, 
 Saxon, and Norman inhabitants, the whole form- 
 ing a stupendous aggregate, It stands on very 
 high g r oiuid, and from it may be seen the branch- 
 ing of the Roman roads, and one very distinct to 
 the north-east. It is estimated to be in compass 
 about five thousand feet Eigen, the daughter of 
 the renowned Caractacus, reported to be the first 
 female saint of Britain, having married the regu- 
 lus who swayed this , district, is said to have re- 
 sided here. The later emperors seem to have 
 much frequented it, as many of their coins are 
 fpund here. It was a favourite spot of the Saxon, 
 
881 
 
 Egbert, and Edgar called a parliament here. Nor 
 were the Norman kings less attentive to it. The 
 see was removed from Sherborne first to Salisbury, 
 then to this place iu 1056; but the church he be- 
 gun was finished by his successor, Osmund ; and 
 if ex pede Herculem, from the only entire relic 
 now extant of that fabric, in the gardens of the 
 College at Salisbury, it must be allowed to have 
 been a magnificent Gothic building. In 1220 the 
 see was again removed to Salisbury, and the pre- 
 sent cathedral built by Bishop Richard Poore, about 
 the year 1227 ; Peter Bleseusis being said to have 
 prophesied of that event sixty years before. 
 
 Few places have exercised the ingenuity of ety- 
 mologists more than this, and my companion's in- 
 teresting note-books furnish me with a variety of 
 conjectures, and some ridiculously fanciful, such 
 as that of old Baxter, who will have Sarum to be 
 a corruption of the British Sar-Jvon, that is, 
 angry or violent river, which ran at the base of the 
 hill on which is placed Old Sarum, and flows through 
 the streets of the New ; though the Wiley is of a 
 directly opposite character. Johannes Sarisburicnsis 
 calls it Severia, from the Emperor Severus ; but 
 the Roman name of Sorbiodunum is much nearer the 
 mark, being an almost literal translation of its 
 original British appellation, Caer Sar/llog f the 
 fortified place abounding with the service-tree. 
 Now sarins is service-tree in Latin, and dunum is 
 a commoji katin termination for places which 
 have the adjunct dun or caer in the British; so tlut 
 
282 
 
 
 it was impossible to latinize the word with less 
 violence to the original. 
 
 After an hour passed in exploring this singular 
 spot, we descended to the modern Salisbury, 
 where I found letters from my uncle, who has 
 just got to London, requiring me to hurry thither 
 as soon as possible, so that our plan of resting here 
 a day or two is frustrated. We therefore lost no 
 time to visit the beautiful relic of Gothic archi- 
 tecture brought from Old Sarum, to which a letter 
 from Mr. Cunnington procured us admission. It 
 was at first attached as a sort of vestibule to some 
 part of the new cathedral, but, in the rage for in- 
 novation, cut ofT like a scirrhous tumour, and dis- 
 carded, and now fills a respectable situation after 
 its disgrace of being doomed to mix with rubbish, 
 in the charming grounds of H. P. Wyndham, Esq. 
 member for Wiltshire, to whose taste we owe the 
 preservation of this elegant little portico, as he 
 rescued it from oblivion, and took pains to repair 
 and perfect the building where it was defective 
 from other outcast fragments of the present cathe- 
 dral, when it underwent reparation about half a 
 century ago*, and much of the chaste simplicity 
 
 * It bears this classical inscription from the pen of the gentle- 
 man to whom it belongs : 
 
 " Hanc aedem, olim in vicina urbe Sorbioduni extructam, et 
 postea ad Novam Sarisburiae urbem transvectam, ubi, per plus 
 quingentos annos, ecclesiae cathedralis portam borealem, jam 
 nunc occlusam, vestibuli loco adumbraverat, hie demum Decani 
 Capituliq. assetrau, collocari curavit 
 
 " H. P. Wyndham, 
 A. D. 1767." 
 
283 
 
 of that fine fabric was sacrificed to the fantastic 
 frippery of modern designs, 
 
 We ordered an early dinner, and while that was 
 getting ready we paid a tantalizing visit to that 
 splendid monument of Bishop Poore's spirit and 
 taste, the so much justly celebrated cathedral, a 
 model of the purest Gothic, till the late innova- 
 tions had destroyed the consistent harmony of its 
 parts; but our examination of it was too hasty to 
 please ourselves, and therefore I shall not attempt 
 any thing by way of description, for we could 
 scarcely give ourselves an hour to see what, to do 
 it justice, demands a day at least. 
 
 In our way back to the inn we secured places 
 in the mail for that evening, and had only time to 
 hurry our dinner before we were summoned to 
 the coach, which landed us in London about nine 
 o'clock the following morning: I have occasionally 
 found this mode of conveyance productive of 
 great entertainment and great variety of charac- 
 ters ; but in this instance T found an exception, 
 our companions for the night being perfectly un- 
 social : the one a Quaker, by his demurene?s and 
 dress, whom the spirit never once moved to utter 
 a syllable, not permitting his rigid stiffness to 
 relax into a yea or nay ; the other an Italian, with 
 the looks of an hereditary assassin, and a stiletto in 
 every feature, who was as silent as the Quaker, 
 but Whose countenance spoke more, I fear, than 
 his tongue could dare to utter. I learned that he 
 was confidential valet to a great man : what a re- 
 ilectiou ! to think of preferring a set of foreign mis- 
 
284 
 
 creaats to our ^n. countrymen, and perhaps by 
 so doing nourishing vipers in our bosom. I won- 
 der, with such a. pack of wretches, rapacious and 
 vindictive, always about their persons, that our 
 men of fashion are not oftener doomed to feel the 
 midnight dagger or the slow-consuming poison ; 
 but it is a depravity, that, before it is corrected, 
 bids fair to be severely punished. Jones, with his 
 command of sleep, escaped from the misery of this 
 silence and confinement that I was awake to all 
 night; while my constant employment was to ven- 
 tilate the coach every five minutes, and purify the 
 air, contaminated by the rocambole breath of the 
 Italian. At my chambers your welcome packet 
 greeted me. It gives me infinite pleasure to find 
 that my communications from the Carmarthen 
 manuscript have been so acceptable, and that 
 Conoily is of the same opinion with you as to pub- 
 lishing the whole, which, from looking more into 
 the contents of my purchase, will make a hand- 
 some modern octavo, what with the Shakespearian 
 farrago, the prophecies, and two or three whimsi- 
 cal scraps of more recent date, probably collected 
 by the. person who last owned the book. I shall 
 therefore avoid giving the chance of publicity to 
 more of my ancient treasures, and yet I cannot 
 forbear treating you with a specimen of the pro- 
 phecies and their notes variorum, which I shall 
 tack on to my next, having already pledged my- 
 self in this to give you the antiquarian sonnets I 
 have referred to, and which Jones at another table 
 i§ now copying \Q be inclosed. It may be some 
 
285 
 
 time before you hear from me again, as a letter 
 from my uncle acquaints me with his having left 
 town for Hampshire, where he has engaged to 
 pass his Christmas at a relation's, and has requested 
 me to follow him without delay ; so that to-mor- 
 row I shall again box myself in a coach, and 
 Jones proposes a visit to Bury, where I suspect 
 there is a magnet of very attractive power, that is 
 likely to rescue him from celibacy. I have heard 
 nothing of late from a certain quarter, and I al- 
 most dread to inquire. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Charles, and let me live in your 
 remembrance. 
 
 THREE SONNETS TO MR. CUNNINGTON, 
 
 TO WHOM THE WORLD IS INDEBTED, UNDER THE PATRONAG1 
 OP SIR RICHARD HOARE, FOR DISCOVERIES THAT CANNOT 
 PAIL TO THROW NEW LIGHT ON THE PRIMEVAL HISTORY 
 OF BRITAIN. 
 
 AT MEETING HIM ON SALISBURY PLAIN. 
 I. 
 
 O thou, on whom each antiquarian eye 
 
 Is turn'd, as when the mariner from far 
 Stretches his aching vision to descry 
 
 Through Night's dark vault some tutelary star. 
 Benighted long I hail thee as the day 
 
 That bids the wanderer all his fears dismiss; 
 What joy to meet thee, pilot of my way. 
 
 And meet in such a latitude as this, 
 Where o'er the boundless ocean of a plain 
 
 To steer the self-same course that thou hast been, 
 Is ever safe, as in the South Sea main 
 
 Wherever Cook's adventurous track is seen j 
 For, till thy time unknown, 'tis thine to boast 
 To haye discoyer'd well this curious coast. 
 
88(5 
 
 ON OPENING THE PROPHET BARROWS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Hither were wont mad prophets to repair 
 
 For facts unborn to search Time's mystic womb, 
 And vent their impious ravings to the air — 
 
 Imposture all ! who dares to pierce the gloom ? 
 Fallacious ray allied to error found, 
 
 No ignis fatuus leads our steps astray -, 
 Fearless we tread, though death's deep night surround, 
 
 Where'er thy polar star directs the way. 
 The rod augurial in the miner's hand 
 
 The mineral world is gifted to unfold j 
 More wondrous still the magic of thy wand j 
 
 It turns whate'er it touches into gold. 
 Oh ! for that splendid epoch, when the ore 
 Its sterling impress shall receive from Hoarb ! 
 
 ON ATTENDING THE REV. MR. I>UKE, 
 
 TO WHOM THE ABOVE GROUP OF BARROWS BELONGED, TO 
 DIRECT THE THREE OPERATIONS OF OPENING THEM: BEING 
 THE FIRST TIME OF HIS BEING PRESENT AT SUCH A CE&JE« 
 
 MONT. 
 
 III. 
 
 Auspicious morn, by prophets long foretold, 
 
 To Sarum's plain once more that calls my friend, 
 The dark sepulchral uysteries to unfold, 
 
 And Duke's initiation to attend : 
 Oh ! let the young noviciate for his guide 
 
 Look up to thee, in mind thy precepts bear, 
 That when thy mantle thou shalt throw aside, 
 
 The mystic robe he may deserve to wear* 
 In Egypt's piles, the wonder of mankind. 
 
 Sages in vain the labyrinth pursue, 
 But in our rival pyramids we find 
 
 No secret chamber that eludes thy clue : 
 Like Mai a's son, where'er thcu wav'st thy hand, 
 The dead appear obedient to thy wand. 
 
 
287 
 
 December 29, 1807. 
 MY DEAR HIBERNIAN, 
 
 After three weeks interruption of our 
 correspondence I again take up my pen to give 
 you some account of myself. A Christmas in a 
 country gentleman's house is pretty near the same 
 the kingdom over; a noisy mixture of epicures, 
 sportsmen, and boarding-school boys and girls ; 
 hunting at the hazard of y our neck in the morning ; 
 feasting every day laid with a continuardo ; after 
 dinner hard drinking, and the chase again over the 
 bottle; between tea and cards, by way of inter* 
 lude, sl waltz by the young ladies, and spouting 
 by the young gentlemen; during which exhibi- 
 tion, to please mamma, you must affect to see the 
 graceful agility of Deshayes in the daughters ; 
 and to ingratiate yourself with papa, an embryo 
 Garrick or a Tully in the sons. Then succeed 
 that odious thing called a round game, and, what 
 is still more odious, a hot supper. However, as 
 some counterbalance to half a dozen professed 
 Nimrods, we had one gentleman very entertain- 
 ing, an intimate of the late Dr. Goldsmith, who 
 knew my father a little, and was one of the last, 
 if not the last survivor, of the celebrated literary 
 club of that day : he was a man who at the age of 
 seventy-four looked only sixty, but studied to 
 play the boy more than became him, had an inex- 
 haustible fund of anecdote, and told a story with 
 infinite humour. He gave us several original 
 
 4 
 
£88 
 
 traits of Goldsmith's character highly honourable 
 to him, treated us with many jeu-d'esprits of his 
 own and his early contemporaries, and by his 
 lively description made the wits of times gone by 
 pass as it were in review before us : the ponderous 
 lexicographer now moving like an elephant, at- 
 tended by the lord of Auchinleck, now playing 
 like a kitten with his learned hostess at S treat- 
 1mm ; Garrick, all finesse, and gasping for ap- 
 plause; Goldsmith, a strange compound of bril- 
 liancy and blunder ; Hugh Kelly, a lump of affec- 
 tation ; and old Murphy, who , in his narratives 
 had the opposite vice to his favourite historian 
 Tacitus, for he said one of his stories would con- 
 tinue from the rising to the setting sun, and he 
 has been often known to go on with it during the 
 whole of dinner, not the least sensible of the 
 total inattention of his hearers. I suspect that 
 this gentleman had been in some diplomatic cha- 
 racter abroad when young, for he knew a great 
 deal of most of the courts of Europe, whilst Eu- 
 rope had courts ; he told us, among- many curious 
 particulars that had occurred to him, that he 
 knew a Dutchman who had been hanged and had 
 his throat cut, and yet survived to be reconciled 
 to life; for in a fit of jealousy he had gone up- to 
 his chamber, which was over the kitchen, and 
 hung himself up to the bed-post, but in his strug- 
 gles he had kicked down a chair, - or made some 
 violent noise, which so alarmed the cook, who 
 was then dressing dinner with her knife -in her 
 hand, that she ran up stairs just time enoVtgh to 
 
289 
 
 * 
 
 save her master's life, as, in trying to cut the cord 
 lie was suspended by, her knife slipped, and cut his 
 Vhroat, which restored him to animation. The 
 other very remarkable thing he told us was, that 
 lie had once dined at the Piazza Coffeehouse in 
 company with five men who were afterwards 
 hanged : the two Perreaus, Doctor Dodd, Hack- 
 man, and Donnellan. He has been of great ser- 
 vice to me, being well acquainted with Lisbon, 
 and with the very merchant on whom I have a 
 claim in right of the late Mr. Hwlfordd, which 
 without his assistance I fear I should never have 
 recovered, though I may be obliged to go thither' 
 myself before I succeed : besides, having great 
 India connexions, and being pleased to take an 
 interest in my fortunes, he asked my uncle if he 
 thought I should have any objection to go abroad, 
 as he thought he should soon have it in his power 
 to offer me a situation that would be worth my 
 acceptance. For this last week, since my return 
 to town, I have been plagued to death with law- 
 yers and conveyances, having sold the houses in 
 Dublin, and that most unpleasant species of pro- 
 perty, tithes; yet my uncle, who Iras not been 
 in London for some years, and has a large and 
 fashionable acquaintance, has given me a sort of 
 entree into life. You know that neither you nor 
 I had seen much of what is called the world for 
 the two or three years we had been in town, tor 
 we had no idea of pleasure a mile from the Temple 
 Coffeehouse, or much beyond the Theatres, and 
 seldom threw ourselves in the way of an invitation 
 
 V 
 
290 
 
 to the court end of the town, even shrinking 
 
 from good Lady M 's monthly dinner, though 
 
 most of the guests and the whole entertainment 
 were of a costume that might have been in fashion 
 at the Revolution, and we might be said to be out 
 of the world ; but I have of late been truly in it, 
 and have seen so much of its unmeaning felly as 
 to make me pant more and more for a retirement 
 among the mountains of North Wales. You have* 
 routs, I suppose, as well as riots in your capital, 
 and I presume you may have had a practical 
 knowledge of the former ; but since Dublin has 
 been drained of people of rank by the Union, I 
 should suppose they must be on a very small 
 scale compared to ours: I was the other evening 
 at one, where, from first to last, there were from 
 four to five hundred names announced, and two 
 thirds of those unknown to the furnishers of the 
 entertainment (if entertainment that can be called, 
 which is exactly what Dr. Johnson defines a rout, 
 a tumultuous crowd) but by a reciprocation of 
 such follies. Having made many morning calls 
 the same day, I had an opportunity of contrasting 
 the faces of several of the ladies at the two dif- 
 ferent seasons of the day ; for the pale primroses 
 of the morning were become rosebuds, nay, full- 
 blown roses, in the evening; so that they could 
 hardly be known. What a masquerade this life 
 is ! and think you their hearts are as much in dis- 
 guise as their cheeks ? An evening party is a sort 
 of half-way to a rout ; but a small evening party, 
 which is generally fixed fpr Sunday, is the acme of 
 
291 
 
 insipidity; and of such I lately was so unfortu- 
 nate as to make one : it seldom consists of more 
 than twenty or twenty-five ; men of a graver cast, 
 and ladies rather a 1' antique, and generally calcu- 
 lated for the more quiet amusement of some dow- 
 ager aunt with bad nerves, the effect of sixty 
 years dissipation ; or the gradual initiation of some 
 female cousin, a young country put, not yet safely 
 fresmtablc every where, though she talks with 
 rapture of Marmion, which she cannot under- 
 stand, and may have written a novel, which no- 
 body will read. Being announced in a tone of a 
 more domesticated pitch, fitted to the occasion, 
 you walk up with your crescent hat growing to 
 your side, and one dirty glove on, to the lady of 
 the house, and after half a dozen scrapes and 
 bows, in receding you have a chance of treading 
 on the lap-dog, which was my case, and I was 
 confused for the whole evening. To make your 
 situation pleasantly tenable, the praise of Pug and 
 the old china is an incense you must offer. The 
 gentlemen may look sentimental, but they say 
 little ; but all the conversation is carried on in a 
 low key by the ladies, and chiefly turns on the 
 amusements of the preceding, and what is an- 
 nounced for the coming week : says one lady to 
 her neighbour, " Pray, my dear, what have we 
 for this w r eek ?" — " Profusion of good things," re- 
 plies the other : " on Monday night Lady C — r sees 
 
 masks to spite her beautiful neighbour Mrs. O n, 
 
 >vho opens her house for the same purppse. Tuesday 
 morning the dancing monkies in Bond Street, and 
 
ogo, 
 
 the Maltese girl without arms, who plays the vio- 
 lin within her teeth ; and for the evening, our old 
 friend the deaf Countess's rout. On Wednesday 
 
 Mrs. V 's dinner and the harp. On Thursday 
 
 the Opera. On Friday the new actress. And on 
 
 Saturday Lord B *s infantine theatricals, by 
 
 children not more than eight years old ; with 
 duets between the acts by bullfinches." For the 
 honour of old Ireland, I hope you have nothing 
 worse than this. In another fortnight, from my 
 uncle's present bill of fare, I suspect I shall lrave 
 wherewithal to amuse you in my next. 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 London, February 32, 1808. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I am sick of law and lawyers : for this 
 fortnight past I have not been a day without some 
 interruption from them, though they come to en- 
 rich and not to impoverish me ; yet for all that I 
 do not like them : 
 
 " Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes." 
 
 You must know that my uncle in his day was esr 
 teemed a man of vertii ; and not having seen 
 London for some years, he is resolved to renew 
 his old acquaintance and revive his old habits. 
 With most of the great painters thirty years back 
 he was intimate, particularly with him who was 
 
£93 
 
 facile prbiceps, Sir Joshua Reynolds ; but of 
 many of those who now figure away at the head 
 of their profession, with R. A. ami knighthood in 
 their train, he then scarce heard the names ; some 
 of them he might have seen copying at Sir 
 Joshua's, or trying their talents on drapery and 
 back-ground. However, he devoted ever} morn- 
 ing of. a whole week to visit the most eminent ox 
 the present artists, the majority of whom are por- 
 trait-painters; and certainly portrait-painting must 
 be confessed to be the noblest department pf the 
 art, inasmuch as a man excels a tree ; however 
 finely imitated a landscape may be, still you may 
 sec a better by looking out at your window ; and 
 in history you can catch but one point of time, it 
 is fancy supplies the rest. I 7 pktara poem : the 
 parallel may hold a little, but the powers of the 
 pencil must yield to those of the muse, if nature 
 is to be described, or the passions illustrated : 
 were Claude to live again, and paint the four sea- 
 sons in his best manner, I would pronounce 
 Thomson's superior pictures ; and where is the co- 
 louring that can produce Shakespeare's Macbeth : 
 13ut in portrait-painting the muse must own her 
 inferiority, and resign the palm to the pencil, 
 which is employed not only to imitate the grandest 
 work of creation, but to give a sort pf immorta- 
 lity to that which, without such aid, perishes, not 
 to admit of renovation in this world. Of all the 
 painters of this class, the man whose performances 
 please me most is Sir William Beechey : his like- 
 nesses the most prejudiced must allow to be 
 
 u 3 
 
294 
 
 commonly striking ; and as to taste in the disposi- 
 tion of his figures, and calling out the 60ul of 
 character, he is unrivalled : then there is as little 
 affectation about his style as himself — all is 
 nature; there is no parade or charlatanrie belong- 
 ing to him, as there is to several of his fraternity : 
 not content with being painters, some of them as- 
 pire to be poets too : one deals in the pastoral, 
 rural, and descriptive ; another in sea-pieces ; and 
 
 a third sets up for a censor. But Mr. W 11 
 
 knows as little of the country and the scenes he 
 employs his verse about, as a cockney who has 
 never been further than Bagnigge Wells, or his 
 villa tub in a paled spot six feet by four, where he 
 measures the progress of vegetation by the growth 
 of a true lover's knot, or his wife's cypher in pep- 
 per-grass ; yet his poetry has this peculiar excel- 
 lence, that it reads backward or forward equally 
 
 well. Mr. T m's pencil is " resistless and 
 
 grand," but his muse at sea is a perfect emetic. 
 And as to Mr. S — ee, though he certainly has some 
 pretensions to call himself a poet, yet I doubt if 
 his censure be just, and he is not querulous with- 
 out a cause ; and when he affects to give precepts, 
 let him be reminded of ne sutor ultra erepidam. 
 Besides, didactic poetry never made a man perfect 
 in any art; for were there no other directory for 
 brewing cider than Philips's poem, I take it the cel- 
 lar in Maiden Lane would have but few customers. 
 What is Fresnoy's Art of Painting but poetical 
 .pegs, though turned in Dryden's and in Mason's 
 athe, to hang Sir Joshua Reynolds's notes and it 
 
295 
 
 lustrations on ? Not that I have the Honour of 
 having F. It. S. or F. A. S. to page the heel of my 
 name, yet I have lately visited the two societies 
 they characterize, my uncle being a member of 
 both. It seems a club formed of several gentle- 
 men belonging to the Royal Society, dine 
 weekly together at the Crown and Anchor during 
 the session of Parliament on the day the society 
 meet; and my uncle having an extensive acquaint- 
 ance with many of them, particularly some he 
 had known in India, was invited as well as myself 
 as guests : a circumstance from which I promised 
 myself great entertainment, but was much disap- 
 pointed. The dinner, in the first place, was very 
 bad, and so scantily supplied, that literally it 
 would not have been enough were it not for some 
 excellent doe venison which one of the members 
 from his park had contributed ; and had it not 
 been for the gentleman himself, we should have 
 lacked food for the mind. The company was very 
 motley in rank, age, and talent, and seemed to 
 want that congeniality of sentiment which is the 
 cement of society. You found from the conver- 
 sation of almost every one of them his darling 
 pursuit, and the system he most favoured : one 
 look an opportunity at every turn to refer to gyp- 
 sies ; another, to stones dropping from the clouds ; 
 a third, to a new mode of bleeding poppies ; a 
 fourth, to the dissection of a pine-cone; whilst a 
 fifth broached a doctrine respecting the human 
 form wilder than Lord Monboddo's, of which no 
 man could make either head or tail ; yet take. 
 
 v 4 
 
296 
 
 either of them out of his respective line, and he 
 was silent. The first was toujours a la Bohemiemie, 
 and nothing else. The stone-shower man, unless 
 you admitted of the possibility of raining pebbles, 
 was a mere petrifaction. The man of opium, 
 shut out from poppies, was a perfect narcotic. 
 And the. pine-cone dissector's know ledge was li- 
 mited to that anatomy. But the gentleman who 
 by his aid of the bill of fare had saved us from 
 hunger, and by his general knowledge and pleas- 
 ing powers of communicating it had kept conver- 
 sation from stagnating, was alone more than a 
 counterbalance for all the phlegm, formal dul- 
 lness, and eccentricity of the rest of the company. 
 After a temperate circulation of the glass and 
 coffee, we adjourned first of all to the Antiquarian 
 Society, where I found the account given of its 
 process by one of the masked travellers no way 
 exaggerated; afterwards to the Royal Society 
 room, where a most tedious and stupid communi- 
 cation, on the nature and power of lenses, w T as 
 read ; a paper in itself so heavy and involved, had 
 it not been rendered more so by the monotony of 
 the reader, that it soon appeared to have acted as 
 a soporific on half the room, and the reading of 
 which, to prevent a general torpor, the President 
 himself, feeling his lids weighed down, proposed 
 to defer, which was done accordingly, to the no 
 small satisfaction of most present, not excepting 
 pld Mr. Cavendish. So much for two boasted so- 
 cieties ! 
 
 J,ast night for the first time I visited the House 
 
297 
 
 of Commons, and my expectations were raised in 
 proportion to the importance of the scene. 
 Though prepared to see a room, from what I had 
 beard, rather small, I was astonished to find it li- 
 terally not large enough to hold all its members 
 without danger of suffocation, ill lighted, and 
 worse heated. However, I thought I should cer- 
 tainly have specimens of fine oratory, and, not- 
 withstanding I as so fortunate as to hear some 
 of our most eminent speakers that night, they fell 
 infinitely short of the idea I had formed of a good 
 orator. As to the matter of the speeches, I shall 
 not presume to enter into a disquisition of it, and 
 hazard an opinion ; but as to the manner, without 
 any danger of lodgings in Newgate, it is a fair 
 subject of animadversion, and I am bold to say 
 that, with an exception of one or two, nothing 
 can be worse, or more anti-Ciceronian. How it is 
 possible that the highest bred gentlemen in the 
 Jand, who on other occasions deport themselves 
 with gracefulness and dignity, can, at a moment 
 when their most exalted feelings ought to be 
 awake, lose sight of all, and accompany delivery 
 turbid and inflated, with gestures the coarsest and 
 most undignified, without ever suiting " the action 
 to the word, or the word to the action/' oh ! as Ham- 
 let says, " it offends me to the soul." Mv uncle in a 
 peevish tone only muttered, " Had you seen the old 
 Robin Hood in its best days!" I was astonished to 
 hear some of our brethren of the gow n make so poor 
 a hand of it ; men voluble enough and eloquent at 
 nisi prius. I have been told that there have been 
 
298 
 
 instances of men of that profession who could in 
 the Court of Kings Bench speak for three hours 
 together, to the admiration of all who heard them, 
 in that House absolutely fainting in limine, as it 
 were, paralyzed by the awful change of situation, 
 and in no better plight than I was on making my 
 first motion. My uncle talked of your House of 
 Commons, when you had a Parliament, as a noble 
 room, and seemed to lament, with many others, 
 the want of a senatorial habit. 
 
 I shall be again lost, perhaps for a month or six 
 weeks, having had a summons to visit a place 
 where every thing that is most clear to me, and 
 every thing my heart could possibly desire, would 
 be found, were Health of the party, which I fear 
 is not the case. I forgot to tell you that my 
 uncle, who yesterday took his leave of me for 
 Dublin, is much for my accepting the offer made 
 me of a situation at Bombay, a thing that would 
 exactly suit my inquisitive mind, were it not for 
 my Eliza, without whom, though possessed of th^ 
 wealth of India, I could not be happy. Jones, 
 who will be in town to-morrow, occupies my 
 chambers till I return, and will take care to for- 
 ward your letters. Adieu till my eclipse is over. 
 
 P. S. I believe I promised to treat you with one 
 of the prophecies out of my manuscript collec- 
 tion ; but my amanuensis not being there, and in 
 the present distraction of my mind, it is out of 
 ?»y power to perform it. 
 
299 
 
 Petersfield, March 28, 1-80S, 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 If you recollect, I some time ago told 
 you that I should have occasion to visit Lisbon, 
 where I have no less a sum than two thousand 
 pounds due to me, and the recovery of which is 
 now put into such a train, by means of the gen- 
 tleman I met in Hampshire last Christmas, that 
 without returning to London, having here with 
 me all the necessary papers for the purpose, I in- 
 tend setting out immediately, especially as I have 
 an incitement for expedition infinitely more power- 
 ful than that of gold, the critical state of my 
 Eliza's health, which it is the opinion of the 
 ablest of the faculty might be likely to benefit 
 by the air of Portugal, so that I shall have the 
 happiness of accompanying her and her mother ; 
 with haste, then, 
 
 * ' I fly to snatch her from the rigid north, 
 And bring her nearer to the sun." 
 
 By the first week in June I am engaged to be 
 in North Wales, where I have much to do re- 
 specting the mortgages I have there; and when I 
 have settled the redemptions and foreclosures, I 
 pledge myself to be with you as soon as the en- 
 chanting scenery I shall pass through will permit 
 me. You flatter me much by pressing on me the 
 publication of my foolish letters, which if they 
 
300 
 
 have any merit, they derive it from being addressed 
 to you, and your approbation ; but you assign an 
 additional, and & much better reason for making 
 them public, as they are the vehicle of several 
 choice morceaux of modern poetry and curious an- 
 cient fragments, that cannot fail to interest ; and 
 likewise announce the prospect of much enter- 
 tainment to every lover of literature, from an ap- 
 pearance of a much greater portion to match the 
 tantalizing sample. Before this arrives I may 
 probably be in the midst of the Atlantic ; but on 
 land or sea. believe me ever 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 London, May 25, 1SOS. 
 JIY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I am once more, thank Heaven, in Old 
 England, after having had a taste of other coun- 
 tries and climates ; but I must say, in the rapturous 
 language of the old song, 
 
 " They are my visits, but thou art my home'" 
 
 I told you in my last to consider no news as good 
 news, and to rely on it ; therefore, as things turned 
 out better than I had a right to expect, I did not 
 plague you with letters, but send you now a large 
 packet, containing a cursory journal of my foreign 
 travels. When I wrote last it was my intention 
 to have gone t6 Lisbon with my Eliza and her 
 
SOI 
 
 mother, but by letters received from that country 
 the following day it was represented to be in such 
 a state of ferment and alarm as to render it abso- 
 lutely necessary to abandon our first destination ; 
 
 and as we found that Mrs. II and her brother 
 
 were then at Portsmouth, about to set sail for 
 Madeira, we hastened to join them — a change in 
 our plan which the medical men seemed highly to 
 approve of; so that I in the first instance overshot 
 my own mark, to see my treasure safely deposited 
 in that island, and having consigned it to the 
 tender care of our most amiable and sympathizing 
 
 friend, Mrs. H , I set sail for Lisbon, where 
 
 I have been successful in my mission, am returned 
 in health, and continue to have favourable ac- 
 counts from Madeira. During my absence I have 
 lost my excellent uncle, who had always been a 
 second father to me, and has left me the last sur- 
 vivor of my family. Having never been married, 
 and having no relations that required a provision, 
 he had so disposed of his property as to give him 
 a greater life income, and by that means a greater 
 command of such things as gratified his fine taste, 
 and contributed to his ease and comfort. Personal 
 property was all he had to leave, and that he be- 
 queathed to me, chiefly consisting of a well-chosen 
 library, a valuable collection of drawings, prints, 
 and coins ; and among the books several topogra- 
 phical works, illustrated; that is, enriched with 
 the spoils of others ; particularly Pennant's Lon-< 
 don, which has been swelled by that sort of inter- 
 larding from one ordinary-sized quarto to thirty 
 
303 
 
 volumes folio, which he has been heard to say 
 cost him at least five hundred pounds, and has. 
 been valued at a thousand. He had, besides, 
 a few choice cabinet pictures, and several 
 original portraits of the literary characters of his 
 time. Jones has not been idle ; for having left 
 him the manuscript farrago I picked up in Wales, 
 he has most judiciously arranged it for the press, 
 and out of the rudiments of a tragical event at 
 Lucca, as found among Shakespeare's memoranda, 
 and communicated to him by a gentleman he there 
 names and refers to, has sketched the outline of a 
 most interesting tragedy, and has filled up three 
 acts in so masterly a manner as bids fair to restore 
 Melpomene to her pristine rank in the British 
 drama. But yet when he has finished it, it will 
 be difficult to prevail on him to bring it before tha 
 public, such is his extreme diffidence and genuine, 
 modesty, without a particle of affectation, owing" 
 to which I fear his great abilities will be lost to 
 the world. I shall be nearer to you in my next, 
 which I hope will be dated from among the 
 fountains in North Wales ; so, till then, adieu ! 
 
 Barmouth, June 7, 1S08, 
 Mt DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 With Jones still my entertaining compa- 
 nion, though full of the tragic muse, I left London 
 the first of this month, having taken our places in 
 the Holyhead coach to Corwen in Merionethshire* 
 
303 
 
 Our fellow-travellers were two of your country- 
 men, the most haughty and uncommunicative X 
 ever met with : they never once condescended to 
 address us on any occasion, but overlooked us 
 with ineffable contempt, confining their conversa- 
 tion entirely to themselves, and the subject of it 
 principally to their own country. They talked of 
 the parks and lodges of their fathers and uncles ; 
 the beauty of their mothers and aunts ; and their 
 alliance to half the peerage of the United King- 
 dom ; fighting duels in saw-pits ; Curran's elo- 
 quence ; Lake of Killarney ; the Irish pipes ; A — r 
 
 O c C r; Bogwood; Dublin Bay herrings; the 
 
 clearness of the LifTy; and whiskey punch. In 
 our defence we were, therefore, obliged to narrow 
 our colloquial amusement to each other; and 
 though at times, improvidently perhaps, some- 
 thing would escape us that had a tendency to 
 rouse whatever was Milesian in them, and to ignite 
 stuff less combustible, yet it was luckily never 
 rioticed, or deemed not worthy of being so, and 
 no flame took place. I was struck with a remark 
 that dropped from them, reminding me of a similar 
 one from my poor uncle at a private concert we 
 were at in town last winter ; for said one of them 
 to the other, and not without a strong dasli of 
 the brogue, " Why, Captain, now were you not 
 
 astonished to see Mrs. B n the other evening 
 
 at Lady L 's not only as a performer but an 
 
 intimate guest, after what you heard my father 
 say of the winter of her debut at Dublin, when 
 
 poor T y B— — n, on his return from England, 
 
 4 
 

 304* 
 
 where lie had gone to fetch his bass-viol, was 
 either pitied or laughed at by all who knew him? 
 Surely it cannot be the same person ; though after 
 a quarantine of twenty-six years one may be en- 
 titled to clean bills of reputation. She has the 
 credit of being very rich, having considerable 
 sums vested in the Junction canal and embank- 
 ments in Wales." At Llangollen the Irish grandees 
 left us, stopping there to pay their respects to the 
 two ladies, their countrywomen, the Linda Mira and 
 Inda Mora, whom every body has heard of, who came 
 there professedly for retirement, yet whose cottage, 
 situated on the road-side, is literally a house of call 
 to all who travel to and from the dear country, as 
 well as for all curious and impertinent pedestrian 
 tourists, female novel-writers, and maudlin poet- 
 esses. Our former hasty transit through North 
 Wales was by a different road, so that this lovely 
 vale I knew nothing of but from description; and 
 where is the pen or the pencil that can do justice 
 to the beauty or the grandeur of the scenery? 
 The vale of Llangollen for the picturesque stands 
 unrivalled ; broken into the most enchanting in- 
 tricacies, finely wooded, with the Dee winding its 
 " wizard stream" through it, and rising from its 
 banks the lofty conical hill of Castle Dinas y bran, 
 crowned with its aerial castle, partly hid in clouds. 
 What a pity that art should be employed to de- 
 form this lovely scene by the formal line of navi- 
 gable canal above the margin of the romantic river 
 that rolls and roars beneath it! it is like tattooing 
 a beautiful face. It seems, as. we heard afterwards 
 
305 
 
 at Corwen, that we had passed close to the site of 
 Owen Glendwr's palace, in the heart of his vast pos- 
 sessions, which I should have cast my eye on with pe- 
 culiar reverence, as, in my opinion, he was a great 
 man, and merited a more honourable appellation than 
 that of rebel. At Corwen his portrait supplies the 
 sign of the principal inn. This is a noted rendezvous 
 for the disciples of old Isaac Walton ; and here I 
 saw, on an angling party, a gentleman whom I 
 recollect to have been pointed out to me one 
 morning last winter, at an eminent painter's in 
 town, as one of the greatest patrons of the mo- 
 dern artists, and into whose gallery, which, I un- 
 derstood, was superbly furnished, none, or very few, 
 pictures (perhaps by way of contrast) are admit- 
 ted, highly to his honour, but those of the British 
 schooL Hence we diverged, in a chaise, to Bala, 
 where I had business with the ao-ent of a o-entle- 
 man on whose estates I had a mortgage of two 
 thousand pounds. The day happened to be the 
 last of a Methodistical association there, which 
 generally continues for part of three days ; so the 
 town was crammed. The weather beino- remark- 
 ably fine and warm, the dome of their temple was 
 the canopy of heaven : as the street, filled from 
 side to side, was impassable, we abandoned our 
 chaise, and wedged in among the crowd to hear 
 the peroration of the sermon, then near its do* 
 and in the preacher recognised our lame fellow- 
 traveller in the mail from Carmarthen last Oc- 
 tober. His manner was not at all ranting; his 
 language and allusions very familiar, yet not 
 
 x 
 
506 
 
 &nd the effect on his audience wonderful, His 
 discourse was a mixture of Welsh and English, 
 or chiefly Welsh, with some striking portions for 
 the benefit of a casual Saxon auditor, like myself, 
 paraphrased into English. It was the farewell 
 sermon. He and another of the officiating chap- 
 lains at Lady Huntingdon's Chapel, in Spa Fields, 
 were the most distinguished in the multitude of 
 preachers. A number of pious cadets between the 
 acts, and now at the finale, before the curtain 
 dropped, had an opportunity of trying their ta- 
 lents, and feeling their ground, by prayer. With 
 these miscellaneous ejaculations the association 
 was dissolved, and I followed the preacher to his 
 horse, which his servant had in waiting, for him 
 immediately to mount, being engaged to perform 
 in the evening at the next town. I purposely 
 threw myself in his way, and he recollected us 
 with the same smile of good humour, and the same 
 cordiality, that marked his parting with us at Nar- 
 berth, when his heart seemed at his fingers' ends. 
 He rode a fine cream-coloured horse, that would 
 not have disgraced His Majesty's stud. In his 
 walk I could perceive not the least halt; and our 
 naval mail-coach traveller would have said that 
 he was repaired and sound in his lower timbers. I 
 am told that the salient mania, to which this holy 
 man owed his accident, as the naval wag informed 
 us, and which spread like wild-fire over the princi- 
 pality, had its origin at this place, and that the 
 first fanatic bacchants filled tjiq roads by night for 
 
307 
 
 miles round, and fatigued the echoes of Aran* 
 with their orgies, though at present the frenzy 
 appears to have much subsided. The Lake of 
 Bala is the first piece of water of the true lake 
 kind I have ever seen, and that I am therefore in 
 raptures with it there can be no wonder. It is 
 called in the Welsh language, Llyn Teghyd; The 
 beautiful long lake. It is in compass about nine 
 miles ; the water extremely clear, and in the centre 
 very deep : it abounds with trout, perch, and a 
 species of fish, they say peculiar to it, called the 
 gwyniad, but mean eating. On the south side of 
 it, in an elbow of the hill, prettily recessed and 
 embosomed in wood, at the head of a lawn that 
 gradually slopes to the margin of the lake, having 
 in front the blue range of the Arennigf Moun- 
 tains, stands the elegant villa of Sir Richard 
 Hoare, who, we heard, was then there, and to 
 whom, after dinner, we took the liberty of paying 
 our respects. We found him at home with a gen- 
 tleman, a friend of his, of similar pursuits. They 
 were just going to take their usual evening diver- 
 sion of perch-fishing, in a commodious boat be- 
 longing to the Baronet below the house. We were 
 pressed to join them, and had we not had sport, the 
 luxury of the scene would have amply gratified us. 
 There was not a breeze to ruffle the azure mirror of 
 
 * Aran is the name of the highest mountain that bounds the 
 lake of Bala. 
 
 f So called, as Jones conceives, from their summits being 
 broken into kidney -shaped forms : Arennig, he says, being an ad- 
 jective that would answer to kidneyish in our language, could w« 
 be bold enough to coin it. 
 
 x S 
 
308 
 
 the lake, in. which the inverted landscape, with all 
 its grandeur and variety, then richly illumined by 
 the setting sun, was charmingly reflected. After 
 an hour's amusement on the water Ave took tea, 
 and had a treat of most interesting conversation. 
 The Baronet's guest, I jbund, had been bred to 
 the bar, and, rf not a native of North Wales, had 
 once gone that circuit, for he knew my uncle Ro- 
 bert well, who passed the greater part of two 
 summers about , seventeen years ago between Car- 
 narvon and Beaumaris. They had, during the 
 month of May, been rambling over South Wales, 
 and were reposing for a fortnight after their fa- 
 tigue, in order to be prepared for exploring the 
 northern part of the principality. During their 
 sojourn here their mornings, if fair, were occu- 
 pied in antiquarian excursions near home ; and if' 
 rainy, by their pens and pencils : they dined at 
 the rational hour of three, and their evenings were 
 passed similar to this. Being made, acquainted 
 with the principal bearings of our journey, they 
 were so polite as to sketch for us such a route as 
 would best accommodate itself to our time and 
 course. The hours flew away insensibly, and we 
 did not reach our inn till half past eleven, where 
 we found every thing hushed after the raging 
 tempest of methodism. I had often heard it said that 
 the best house in every town through Wales is the 
 attorney's, and so we found it here. The next 
 morning, with our itinerary made out, we set off 
 for Dolgelley, and arrived there to dinner. This 
 - town is situated in a beautiful valley, on the banks 
 of a charming river bounded by Cader Idris, a 
 
309 
 
 mountain very little inferior in height to the peak 
 of Snowdon, on one side, and by hills on the other, 
 which, but for their opposite neighbour, elsewhere 
 would be deemed high. After an early repast, 
 wishing not to lose time, we went to see the cas- 
 cades in the vicinity of this place, leaving our as- 
 cent to the mountain to the following morning. 
 Our guide to the falls was one of the greatest cu- 
 riosities we met with in our travels, though a little 
 shrivelled man, at least eighty-five years old, yet 
 active as a goat, and vivacious as a viper, with a 
 great deal of low humour, who had that day been 
 up with a party very early to the top of Cader 
 Idris, and still had vigour enough to accompany 
 us on this excursion in the evening. He is for 
 four or live months in the year in the habit of un- 
 dergoing such toil on an average four days in the 
 w r eek. The falls we saw, to an eye like mine, 
 which had seen nothing before to deserve the 
 name, were most romantically beautiful, broken 
 in the happiest manner, with their due proportion 
 of wood and rock, by way of accompaniment; 
 and what was most forrunate, the Naiads had 
 their urns full, but not overflowing, for it rained the 
 night before just enough to produce the effect de- 
 sired. We lamented now more than ever our total 
 ignorance of the use of the pencil, for never were 
 subjects better calculated to employ it on. The 
 next morning was as auspicious for the mountain 
 as a warm sun and cloudless sky could make it. 
 With our little guide dressed in the tnost fantastic 
 manner, and on horses not much bigger than goats 
 
 x 3 
 
310 
 
 and as sure footed, we set off for the regions above, 
 and, clear and warm as it was below, we fell in with 
 some fleecy clouds, whose skirts were humid and cold, 
 but they were transient, and, soon dispersing, left 
 us an extensive view, though the horizon was in- 
 volved in a warm haze. We agree, notwithstand*- 
 ing this sublime prospect, that, taking the hazard 
 of disappointment as to weather, on, and before 
 you reach the summit of, the mountain, and the 
 no small toil, as well as, in some places, owing to a 
 giddy head, danger in attaining it, into the ac- 
 count, what you gain, exclusive of the boast of 
 having been there, does not repay you ; and it is 
 one of those things that is better on paper than in 
 reality. A nap on Cader Idris, as on Pindus of 
 old, has the reputation of making a poet; but my 
 companion being already made, and duly acknow- 
 ledged by the Nine, had no need of sleep there to 
 enable him to throw off the expressive lines I in- 
 close, which he did with his usual rapidity when 
 the fit is on him ; and he certainly seemed to feel 
 inspiration from the mystic seat he occupied. 
 Having started earl v, we had descended time enough 
 for a three o'clock dinner, and to get to Barmouth 
 in the cool of the evening on horseback; a de- 
 lightful ride of ten miles, following the river 
 Maw, navigable almost up to Dolgelley, and 
 which, discharging itself at Barmouth, gives to 
 the estuary the appropriate name, in Welsh, of 
 Abermaw. We got to our place of destination 
 before it was too dark to explore it, and take a 
 mouthful of sea air, a luxury we enjoyed. The 
 situation of Barmouth is the most singular I ever 
 
311 
 
 saw ; till within these few years, since it has be- 
 come a sea-bathing resort, the place, with the ex- 
 ception of a very few houses on the flat, consisted 
 of only two or three tiers of buildings on ledges 
 in the rock, one above the other ; so that from the 
 windows of the upper tier you could look down 
 the chimnies of that below it ; but now at the base 
 of this rocky cape, so built on, a new town has 
 sprung up, having several good houses, inter- 
 spersed with showy fashionable shops, and two or 
 three large hotels, the most frequented of which 
 is the Corsygedol Arms, where we inned for that 
 night. The principal street is literally a bed of 
 sand, ancle deep ; and if there is any wind, so 
 much does a man inhale of it at every breath, that, 
 before night, he becomes a perfect hour-glass ; yet 
 such is the Oikophobia that prevails the whole 
 kingdom over, that people of the first rank, to 
 fly from home, and to be fashionable, prefer this 
 arenaceous promenade to the velvet surface of 
 their own lawns, content to occupy bed-rooms no 
 bigger than band-boxes, and subject themselves 
 to associate with all sorts of company at an ordi- 
 nary here. After our short ramble, to avail our- 
 selves of the post, that moves off at five o'clock 
 in the morning, we bespoke a quiet but small 
 room, and were retired for the evening : being too 
 fatigued, from our mountain excursion, to be 
 social, and mix with the supper party in the pub- 
 lic room, we were resolved to minister to your enter- 
 tainment ; Jones by his poetical inspiration among 
 the clouds, and I by my humble prose. Adieu, 
 
 x 4 
 
312 
 
 fttld in future expect letters oftener, for each day 
 shall supply its journal. And so Conolly has be- 
 come a Benedick and a soldier uno fiatu ; this 
 erratic planet has at last fixed between Mars and 
 Venus ! 
 
 WRITTEN ON THE SUMMIT OF CADER IDRIS, 
 
 Here, where of old great Idris sate, 
 
 T occupy my chair of state, 
 
 And, all unrivall'd and alone, 
 
 Feel myself monarch on my throne, 
 
 Whence, as on little paltry things, 
 
 I dare look down and pity kings j 
 
 While, high above what clouds their scene, 
 
 My mind enjoys a calm serene, 
 
 And reason, with despotic sway, 
 
 Forcing the passions to obey, 
 
 No rebel sense provoking sin, 
 
 Creates a little heaven within. 
 
 Hence from gross vapours purg'd, my eye 
 
 Shall pierce the sapphire of the sky, 
 
 That from th* excursion it may come 
 
 Humbler, and therefore wiser, home. 
 
 Here, where no debts or duns annoy, 
 
 Let me my solitude enjoy, 
 
 And from the mountain's beetling brow, 
 
 The scene quick shifting, turn below, 
 
 Now, while the medium is so clear, 
 
 To view my forked fellows there, 
 
 And, with the help of optic glass, 
 
 Describe the pigmies as they pass, 
 
 See them pursuing different game ; 
 
 To undermine their neighbours' fame 
 
 By subtle practice, like the moles, 
 
 Insidious in their dirty holes, 
 
313 
 
 See ! some industriously employ'd; 
 Exulting, some, o'er fame destroy'd : 
 See ! up yon hill crowds puff their way, 
 To swell a great man's public day, 
 Who weekly spreads his ven'son feasts, 
 To make himself and others beasts ! 
 Yon prig, the priest, displays no note 
 Of his high calling but his coat, 
 To hunt, drink, dice, and give the toast, 
 Is all his learning, all his boast j 
 His thought the flesh alone controls, 
 Let who will take the cure of souls. 
 Yon wither'd thing, so bent with age, 
 Feels in his veins the lecher rage, 
 Into each alley pokes his nose, 
 And after every tid-bit goes : 
 And can cold embers hide a flame 
 To mutiny in such a frame ? 
 Of glow-worm phosphorus a spark, 
 The fire of touchwood in the dark ! 
 
 And are those they, the reptiles men, 
 With whom I 'm doom'd to mix again } 
 Of every passion to be slave, 
 To deal with knaves be half a knave ! 
 Rather, like Timon, let me run 
 Monsters in human form to shun, 
 Deep buried in some shaggy wood, 
 The spring my drink, the herb my food $ 
 Or live a pensioner on air, 
 Entranc'd in this mysterious chair. 
 Yes, to the world ere T descend, 
 And this enchantment have an end, 
 The spell I '11 cherish while I can, 
 Forgetting, and forgot by man, 
 And, purer from my reverie, 
 Grow more like what I ought to be. 
 The mist collects, enough is seen, 
 The fleecy curtain drops between, 
 
314 
 
 And shuts out from my painful view 
 
 The world and all its motley crew 5 
 
 Then let me, pausing, turn my eyes 
 
 Into myself, and moralize j 
 
 A moment giv'n to thought sublime 
 
 Is worth an age of after-time 
 
 Doom'd to be spent 'mong such as crawl 
 
 And yawn out being on this ball, 
 
 Which having ceas'd, no trace is seen 
 
 To show that they had ever been, 
 
 Nor other epitaph supplied, 
 
 Than that they liv'd and that they died. 
 
 Tanybwlchj June Q, 180S. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 I have passed another clay among the 
 rocks and sand of this place ; and though I should 
 not like to spend a whole summer here, yet I think 
 it as well worth seeing as any thing in Wales. 
 In our morning rambles we fell in with an anti- 
 quary, who was busily employed digging in se- 
 veral parts of the sand, even as far as the tide had 
 receded, in quest of grave-stones, on the credit of 
 some of the country people, who affirm, that 
 many years ago, after a violent storm, which had 
 washed away the sand to a great depth, tombs 
 inscribed, but not legibly, were seen, as if a 
 churchyard had been bared, and by them insisted 
 on as a proof of the existence of that lowland 
 region, which extended for many miles sea-ward, 
 from the high ground now bounding it, called Can- 
 
315 
 
 trev Gwaelod, that was said to have been over- 
 flowed sometime between 460 and 590, in the 
 time of Gwyddno Garanhir, the then regulus, and 
 to whom most of the gentry of this eoast, I was 
 told, trace their lineage, the posterity of his clan 
 having continued to settle near the first spot of 
 high land they met with in escaping from the ra- 
 vage of the inundation : but this gentleman I take 
 to be a suckling in antiquarianism, to suppose 
 that as early as that period, to which Ave ascribe 
 the first Christian establishment in this island, a 
 cemetery filled with common grave-stones, de- 
 scribed to him as those of modern days, could 
 have been found, for I presume few churches (and 
 very few they were then) had that appendage 
 called a churchyard marked out; that devoted pre- 
 cinct, as well as the posthumous tablets it con- 
 tains, being of much later date. Passing the 
 seemingly disappointed antiquary, for he clearly 
 dug in vain, we fell in with a roving party like 
 ourselves, and you know it is our plan to turn, or 
 try to turn, every thing we meet to account; there 
 was no digressing, for the ocean was close on one 
 hand and the high sand barrier and beach on the 
 other; so unless we had melted into conversation 
 we must have been sulky indeed, and incapable of 
 dissolving into sociability. The party we over- 
 took consisted of four human creatures as unlike 
 each other as it was possible : one was a gentle- 
 man, who, though dressed in clothes of a cut fifty 
 years distant from the present fashion, had still 
 the visible appearance of a former beau, that no- 
 
tiling could obliterate ; a young Cantab, a true 
 bang up four-in-hand man ; a blunt original cha- 
 racter, with a strong understanding and a slight 
 squint, which rather improved a very plain face, 
 who was very loquacious, and never opened his 
 mouth but a quotation from Hudibras flew out, 
 that he always applied most laughably and dex- 
 terously ; the other I could not place higher than 
 the rank of a cockfeeder or cook to a kennel, who 
 was as silent as his companion was talkative, sel- 
 dom opening his mouth but to shift his quid. 
 We found the two very opposite characters, as 
 well as the young Cantab, were all in the train of 
 the gentleman first noticed, who, I presume, 
 was a man of large fortune in that country, as 
 frequent reference was made to his draining and 
 his mines. He had a racing calendar in his hand, 
 seemed a perfect Clarencieux in horse-heraldry, 
 talked of Newmarket as if he was at home, and 
 was deeply read in the annals of the turf and the 
 Jockey Club. After our luncheon of sea-air and 
 sand we returned and dined at the ordinary ; we sat 
 down about fifteen ; .the principal were, the group 
 we joined on the shore ; the tomb-stone hunter, 
 the disappointed antiquary ; a clergyman, who had 
 the purpureas Jios, not of juventce, but, I should 
 suspect, from his attachment to that beverage, of 
 cerevisite, talked much of Charles Fox, with 
 whom he had been of Hertford College^ and 
 talked of it with some degree of pride, as having 
 been of the same society ; a gentleman and lady, 
 of whom the buzz went round that he had kept 
 
 
317 
 
 an E O table, and was groom of the chambers to 
 Graham's celestial beds in his youth, and married 
 a Cyprian priestess from King's Place. He had 
 here a splendid carriage, and frequently took oc- 
 casion to mention his hounds, his hot-houses, and 
 other luxurious appendages at his country-seat; 
 while she, affecting piety, talked of nothing but 
 
 the new light, the C r of the E r, 
 
 H h M e, the Society for the Suppres- 
 sion of Vice, and the. 13 p of St. D d's : a 
 
 strolling player, who, as we learned afterwards, 
 was a candidate for an engagement at a week's 
 theatricals shortly to be furnished bv a o;entleman 
 of that neighbourhood, who gave us after dinner a 
 specimen of his talents in a few passages from 
 Romeo and Juliet and Richard the Third, which 
 he managed above mediocrity ; an elderly lady 
 with two or three fine girls, her daughters, and 
 one of them, who from the great familiarity that 
 passed between her and the knight of the buskin, 
 I imagine would have had no objection to have 
 played Juliet to his Romeo : but the most striking 
 figure of the whole set, and with whom I close 
 the catalogue, Vas an old Cherokee country 
 squire, who affected to talk Wfclshy, carried a 
 hunting-pole as tall as himself, was followed by 
 half a dozen terriers, and in his dress gave us a 
 specimen of the old school : a blue velvet coat, a 
 scarlet waistcoat, laced with gold, and gold laced 
 hat triple cocked : the leader of our sand party and 
 he were well known to each other, bandied about 
 their raillery, and mutually gave hard knot! 
 
313 
 
 but the man of lace was rather an overmatch for 
 the miner, though backed by his two aid-de-camps, 
 the quoter of Hudibras and the quidder of British 
 rag, and ably by the former. It seems the mine- 
 i'B'g gentleman, professing to work after a Stafford- 
 shire plan, by perpendicular shaft, conducted his 
 operations horizontally, which gave his antagonist 
 such an advantage, that he and his bottle-holders 
 shrunk from the contest, and soon retired. The party 
 was now become small^ there being none left but the 
 old fox-hunting Squire* the parson, and ourselves : 
 smoking and ale was the order of the day, and as 
 there was great originality and good humour about 
 our companions, we joined them in the ale, making a 
 virtue of necessity, for the wine was execrable ; 
 when Nimrod addressed us, saying, " You seem, 
 gentlemen, to like our ale ; it is a noble beverage 
 if well brewed, but we have lost the art ; our 
 wives and daughters are above superintending a 
 process their mothers were educated to understand. 
 I remember the days of the Caesars; but you, 
 Sirs, may not understand my reference : — Which 
 way are you travelling? for if you are going my 
 road, towards Harllech Castle $but that is worth 
 going out of your road to see), I could bring you 
 better acquainted with the Roman Emperors I al- 
 lude to. These were the days for ale and smoke- 
 ing, when the bland vapour of the tube was not 
 offensive to the finest lady ; which of late I could 
 not have presumed to regale myself with till every 
 female had vanished. Oh ! had you known the 
 Druid society in its glory, you then would have 
 
319 
 
 witnessed to a scene, clouded as it was, full of 
 spirit and fire, when I remember, at the Bull in 
 Beaumaris, as much smoke as was raised by the 
 Romans when the devoted groves of old Mona 
 blazed round the Druids of old — such was the 
 honour paid to the Virginia plant ! The old King 
 of Spain, who was none of your w r ine-bibbers, but 
 had drunk at that time as much ale as would have 
 floated a first rate, and I, have often sat with our 
 pipes touching, and yet could not see each other 
 for half an hour together ; and so had Sir Hugh 
 and I at the Friars ; nay, in my own smoking* 
 room, so deliciously obnubilated have we been, 
 that I scarce saw one of my guests for the whole 
 evening, our pipes being never out of our mouths, 
 but to charge them anew and swallow our nip- 
 perkins. During one of those festive fumigations, 
 I shall never forget a young barrister entering at 
 the most inspissated moment of the vapour, with 
 whom I talked for some time unseen, knowing 
 him only by his voice ; a conversation, as you 
 may imagine, very mellow through such a fleecy 
 medium ; but suddenly we lost him, for, not sub- 
 limed enough for company like ours, he had slunk 
 away by favour of our clouds to the ladies : a mere 
 milksop ! not worthy of associating with such en- 
 lightened beings as we were ; a sing-song fellow, 
 full of small talk and himself, who was famous at 
 handing round a plate of light cakes, and could 
 write an ode on the head of a pin." 
 
 Finding that our road lay exactly in the direction 
 of this mansion, to which was attached the history of 
 

 320 
 
 the twelve Caesars, he proffered his services to escort 
 us so far; so next morning, having agreed to start 
 early, we left tills region of rock and sand, and 
 after a ride of about five miles, with the sQa on one 
 side, and a ridge of cloud-capt mountains on the 
 other, we turned out of the main road through a 
 gate which led by an ascent of great length into 
 a woody avenue, previous to our approaching the 
 place of our destination among the mountains, 
 called Corsygeclol (the arms of which, as a sign, 
 the inn at Barmouth displayed), the baronial 
 residence for centuries of the Vaughans, descended 
 from a branch of the Fitzgeralds in Ireland, soon 
 after their being grafted on that country from 
 South Wales, and to which our Cicerone boasted 
 to trace likewise. The entrance to the house was 
 by an old gateway, through a porter's lodge, so 
 that we might have fancied it led to a college, angl 
 the whole building wore an appearance not very 
 foreign from it. " Mow," said our conductor, 
 " you are within the august precinct of the Caesars: 
 you must know, then, that in this house it was, a 
 custom more honoured in the observance than the 
 breach, to fill twelve casks containing a hun- 
 dred and twenty gallons each with strong ale, de- 
 nominated after the twelve first Emperors of Rome, 
 and that each cask was twelve years old before 
 it was of age to be tapped, and as soon as it had 
 passed its minority there was another brewed, so 
 that the imperial series was. always complete; but, 
 alas ! the Caesar-brewing family is extinct, and 
 now there is nothing left here but the husk of hos* 
 . . .4 . 
 
021 
 
 pitality; indeed, for some years I marked A\ith 
 regret the decline of this Roman empire, and the 
 noble fluid that characterized it; for at the last 
 gentleman's table, who preferred whey, which he 
 called the mulsum of Hippocrates (no Welshman, 
 you may be certain), to that heroic beverage, very 
 little was drunk, but in the form of a posset at 
 supper, and it was no bad night-cap I assure you : 
 but I will show you a room in which some super- 
 annuated or supernumerary servants, and other old 
 pensioners, a sort of heir-looms, useless live lum- 
 ber, in the house, were drinking it from morning 
 till night; they lived on nothing else ; like Boni- 
 face in the play, they might literally be said to eat 
 their ale and drink their ale ; it glued them toge- 
 ther, and they lived to a great age without dissolv- 
 ing, and at last they melted like sugar-candy/' 
 The family of this mansion, he said, at the time 
 when the two roses divided the nation, Which 
 might have exclaimed, in the words of our im- 
 mortal Shakespeare, "A plague on both your houses," 
 were strenuous adherents of the Lancastrian party, 
 and he showed us a cell in the garden where Henry 
 VII. before his elevation to the throne, had beeu 
 concealed, to avoid his persecutors. W it had not 
 been for our new Cicerone, we certainly should 
 not have seen this venerable place, which, on ac- 
 count of its situation, character, and history, is 
 worth a much greater digression than, we made to 
 see it. Our companion, not willing to lose us, 
 and seeinsr that we felt an interest in his coimnu- 
 nicative originality, begged to conduct us as fai 
 
 Y 
 
322 
 
 as Harlech, which, much as he extolled it all the 
 way, we found merited any panegyric that could 
 be bestowed on it. It is one of the most finished 
 specimens of the castellated architecture of Ed-~ 
 ward's reign, with a view ; to strength more than 
 elegance, and, seen from the sandy plain below, 
 incorporated as it seems with the precipitous rock 
 it stands on, strikes you with astonishment as to 
 its height and massive solidity, which, if got pos- 
 session of, would be tenable against almost any 
 force ; for a sturdy Welsh captain, as Jones, from 
 his universal vade-mecum, informs me, one David 
 ap Evan ap Einion, kept Harlech castle, and all 
 the lands belonging to it, fifteen years for the 
 House of Lancaster, notwithstanding the formi- 
 dable efforts to dislodge him, at last effected by 
 Sir Richard Herbert, the rival of the Welsh cap- 
 tain in prowess, person, and stature. Our moun- 
 tain squire was not a little proud of having some 
 of the blood of this gallant Welshman in his 
 veins, which he trusted would run uncontaminated 
 to its last drop. " You see," says he, " the effect 
 of being suckled by one of the Csesars; no doubt 
 the Harlech hero drank Corsygedol posset in his 
 cradle— -an infant Hercules !" Jcnes having drop- 
 ped some hints as to his veneration for Welsh ge- 
 nealogy, and the squire having much to boast of 
 in that way, w r ith a voice loud enough for a view 
 halloo, addressed us ; " Gentlemen, I have not 
 yet given you my pedigree, which I have by heart ; 
 and though it is indebted to a thousand aps for 
 stringing it together, I don't think I should lose 
 
 
a link in the chain ; a nun is not more perfect in 
 the tale of her beads, so habituated have I been 
 from my first lisp to call the roll over; for the 
 first exercise my tongue and memory were put to 
 was to enumerate my ancestors from the post-cap- 
 tain in the ark to his latest descendant in Merio- 
 nethshire, and my father's hounds by their names : 
 so now," said he, " as I find my countryman here 
 has a smack of our national failing, a taste for pe- 
 digree, I will accompany you to Tanybwlch, the 
 place of your destination, as I understand, for 
 this night; and perhaps in that sort of learning, 
 which I am not behindhand in, I may give you a 
 treat; besides, my presence may serve to improve 
 your quarters, for I am as well known there as the 
 sign-post ; and if you like cockles and pancakes, 
 you will have them there in perfection. I shall 
 dispatch a messenger over the mountains to say 
 where I am, and then my absence matters little, 
 as I can swear the bastard child here to-morrow as 
 well as at home, having that part of Burn at my 
 fingers' ends; and as for the hounds, the parson, 
 my whipper-in, will be on parade with them early 
 enough to take* the field, and I dare say will 
 have unkennelled by the time I shall join them." 
 This charming little inn is situate in the beautiful 
 vale of Festiniog, which old Lord Lyttclton so 
 much and so justly celebrates, where lie says, 
 " With the woman one loves, the friends of one s 
 choice, and a few books, one might live here an 
 age, and think it a day :" and it truly is the most 
 lovely retired spot I ever was at ; the house neat* 
 
 v Q 
 
324 
 
 all accommodations good, and the pancakes so su- 
 perior to any thing in batter I had ever tasted, 
 that they ought to have a patent for making them. 
 It was late before we dined, and the evening was 
 chiefly spent in conversation between the two 
 Welshmen, on subjects that fairly excluded me ; 
 on the excellence of the Welsh language, a com- 
 parative examination of its different dialects, and 
 Cambrian genealogy. Jones contended, as a South 
 Wales man, for the merit of his dialect, which he 
 called the true Attic; and as a proof of it in- 
 stanced the translation of the Scriptures, the book 
 of life, in that dialect. — " Yes," said his oppo- 
 nent, " because the principal translators might have 
 been men of that country." — " Quite otherwise," 
 replied Jones ; " for that noble work was known 
 to be conducted by men of the northern part of 
 the principality. Queen Elizabeth in 1566 issued 
 a royal mandate to have the Bible translated into 
 Welsh; however, the New Testament only was 
 then published, the joint work of Richard Davies, 
 Bishop of St. David's (though a North Wales 
 man), and William Salisbury, of Caeder, in the 
 parish of Llansannan, Denbighshire ; but the Old 
 Testament was not completed till 1588, for which 
 we are indebted to the labours of Dr. Morgan, a 
 native of Merionethshire, afterwards Bishop of 
 Landaff, with the aid of the Bishops of St. Asaph 
 and Bangor; Gabriel Goodman, Dean of West- 
 minster; David Powell, D. D. ; Edmund Prys, 
 Archdeacon of Merionydd ; and Richard Vaughan; 
 all decided Venedotians ; and yet they adopted the 
 
325 
 
 dialect of Deheubarth or South Wales, undoubt- 
 edly from a conviction of its superior excellence 
 before they would presume to use it as a vehicle 
 of those sacred oracles.'' — " Well supported, I ac- 
 knowledge," rejoined the Squire; " and if it is so, 
 I have no way of accounting for it, but by sup- 
 posing that impiety prevailed more in South Wales 
 than here, and that accordingly the language of 
 that infallible directory to salvation was calculated 
 for that people, who were esteemed to stand most 
 in need of it." They then began a genealogical 
 chase, springing at every step fresh game of 
 princes and heroes, which they hunted down 
 through as many subtle doublings and windings as 
 a fox would take ; and I left them in a warm dis- 
 pute about the dignity of the root of their respec- 
 tive family trees, a contest that, Jones told me, 
 was strenuously maintained on both sides, and was 
 not decided till midnight, and then only by a sort 
 of drawn battle. Notwithstanding the late hour 
 of retiring, the Squire was up earl)*, and soon 
 roused the whole house ; having got his justice bu- 
 siness over, and swigged a bowl of milk punch, he 
 was off for the mountains, leaving us with a com- 
 pliment to Jones's heraldical knowledge, adding, 
 that he ought to be made garter king at arms foi 
 Wales. I am here among mountains of no con- 
 temptible height, but my next will be from the 
 more Alpine region of Carnarvonshire, where the 
 monarch Snowdon holds his court : I exp ct d 
 packet of letters at our next stage, \t Inch will cl 
 rcrmine the course and duration Qf rr»v v 
 
 v 3 
 
326 
 
 ings ; for till I hear from abroad I scarce can be 
 said to have any fixed plan ; only in this I am de- 
 cided, that I am, and ever shall be, 
 
 Yours most sincerely, &c. 
 
 Bedd Celert, Jane 11, 1808. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Were it possible to feel a satiety of fine 
 scenery (though we lose half by not being* able to 
 draw), I certainly should by this time have expe- 
 rienced a surfeit ; but there is no such thing ; for 
 there are features here so strikingly prominent, 
 that there is no possibility of escaping, yet, by 
 the change of the spectator's position, perpe- 
 tually varying their effect, and incapable of tiring. 
 Having seen the most interesting parts of Merio- 
 nethshire, I proceeded to the adjoining county 
 of Carnarvon, having occasion to make some 
 little stay, if the news I shall hear will leave me 
 master of myself, at the county-town, being en- 
 gaged to meet an eminent solicitor there, with 
 whom I have business relative to a mortgage that 
 is likely to end in a foreclosure, on a spot that is 
 described to me as possessing some of the most 
 essential requisites of a picturesque, if not a ro- 
 mantic landscape, and where we may yet meet to 
 talk of the past and plan the future. I entered 
 this county by way of Pont Aberglaslyn ; that is, 
 Aberglaslyn bridge, a view of which I dare say you 
 
327 
 
 have often seen, it having been a favourite subject 
 with the artists and amateurs of the pencil. Above 
 the bridge is a noted salmon-leap, where, particularly 
 after any fresh from rains in the river, as was now 
 the case, you hardly need wait ten minutes before 
 you are entertained with the frequent exhibition of 
 this salient property in the creature to surmount 
 difficulties under the strong impulse of nature for 
 the preservation of its species. The singular cha- 
 racter we parted with at Tanybwlch recommended 
 it strongly to us to visit a place not mentioned in 
 the route sketched for us at Bala, a new creation 
 of Mr. Madocks, Member of Parliament for Bos- 
 ton, but a native of North Wales; instead, there- 
 fore, of going to the right, according to our first 
 intention, we took a turn to the left, and by a de- 
 lightful road along the margin of an extensive 
 tract of sand, at high tides partly overflowed, and 
 under precipices of various heights, shagged with 
 wood, over the crags of which here and there 
 Avere seen " the pendent goat," arrived at Trema- 
 dock, called after the founder's name. It con- 
 sisted of above fifty houses, a large inn, and a 
 town-house, with several buildings begun, and is 
 situate in a small opening between the mountains, 
 till within these six years all sand and moss, but 
 by judicious embankment converted into solid fer- 
 tile land. But this enterprising gentleman, a most 
 valuable accession to his country, having- had a 
 grant of that vast tract of sand called Traeth- 
 mawr, so dangerous to be crossed, and which 
 every year multiplied the coroner's inquests, ia 
 
 Y 4 
 
328 
 
 now employed in shutting out the ocean, prepara* 
 tory to his reclaiming this sandy waste, and re- 
 ducing it to the same state with the contiguous 
 proof of his former successful exertions. His 
 own heautiful villa is niched like an eagle's nest 
 among the crags overhanging his new town, 
 amidst thriving woods of larch and other trees, 
 which now clothe the mountain's side ; in every 
 part of which singularly built and situated man- 
 sion, both within and without, the greatest taste 
 is displayed. And though the patriotic proprietor 
 regularly attends his duty in parliament, and, con- 
 sequently, must be absent for several months, yet 
 his works are carried on with the same spirit, and 
 are the result of his own vigorous mind, which at 
 that distance can judge of and direct every stage 
 of the proceedings, without trespassing too much 
 on the attentions he must necessarily pay to the 
 senate, and those circles of fashion he is accus- 
 tomed to move in. He has established races there, 
 and preparations were making for the festivity 
 which marks that season, there being a great deal 
 of company expected, particularly gentlemen of 
 the turf. No man seems to have consulted more 
 the union of the utile dulci than Mr. Madocks; for 
 I observed an avenue leading to a sort of Belvidere 
 on the knoll in the midst of his new creation, that 
 was contrived a " double debt to pay," having 
 been, and capable of still being, a rope-walk 
 likewise. The hard serpentine his hills are 
 composed of, and of which he has an inexhaust- 
 ible fund, he ships off for London as paving- 
 stones ; so every thing is turned to account. After 
 
329 
 
 retracing our road to the foot of the. bridge we di- 
 verged from, we pursue that which leads towards 
 Carnarvon, and rest that night at Bedd Celcrr, 
 stopping time enough whilst our dinner was or- 
 dered to explore the vicinity, which involves as 
 many curious circumstances as any place I have 
 yet visited within such a compass. Jones for the 
 evening, having picked up several scarce plants, 
 has sufficient to occupy him ; whilst, a prey to 
 fear and hope till I receive letters, I have lost my 
 relish for all enjoyments ; so stealing away unseen 
 from the botanist I shall wish you a good night, 
 and see what my pillow can do to compose me. 
 
 Yours, <Scc. 
 
 Bangor, June 14, 1SOS. 
 MY DEAR CHARLES, 
 
 Jones having a great desire to see the 
 most accessihle of the mountains, passes, and 
 lakes, prevailed on me to devote one day to 
 such an excursion, as we were then at the base of 
 Snowdon, and should not again be so conveniently 
 situated for that purpose ; and I requiring some- 
 thing new to divert my thoughts, we procured 
 a guide and horses, and meant to penetrate 
 as far into this region as our limited time would 
 allow; but to describe what we saw requires a lan- 
 guage I have yet to learn, or a pencil such as 
 yours. It had rained hard in the night, so that 
 
330, 
 
 every lake was full, and every Alpine stream a 
 cataract: besides, the day was clear, and Snow- 
 don and his attendants condescended to be un- 
 covered. Our guide was a fisherman, and had his 
 rod with him, which on one or two of the lakes he 
 used successfully, whilst we were surveying the 
 surrounding scenery ; Joues with a botanical eye 
 leaving no crevice of the rocks unscrutinized. Our 
 intention was to go to Bangor that night, where 
 I had some expectation of meeting my attorney, 
 and our route was so conducted as to give us time, 
 after cursorily viewing this majestic scenery, to 
 get there by night ; but we had no sooner left the 
 recesses of the mountains, than the clouds began 
 to collect, and threaten an approaching storm, 
 which suddenly came on with such violence, at- 
 tended by incessant thunder, lightning, and rain, 
 that we were compelled to seek shelter; and fortu- 
 nately about two hundred yards from the main 
 road, in a sequestered little nook, above a torrent 
 stream that roared beneath it, in the midst of fine 
 young plantations, a neat cottage presented itself, 
 which we made up to, and without much cere- 
 mony, the fury of the tempest being our apology, 
 alighting, begged to be housed from the rage 
 of the elements : a gentleman of middle age most 
 courteously desired us to walk in, and partake of 
 such fare as his humble roof could afford, entreat- 
 in p 1 us not to feel embarrassed, as he had a spare 
 room double-bedded, and could accommodate our 
 guide and the horses ; saying it was hopeless to ex- 
 pect a change of weather so soon as to admit of our 
 
 4 
 
331 
 
 prosecuting our journey that night. From the ur- 
 banity and heartiness with which the offer was 
 made, we could see in a moment that any stiffness 
 on our parts would have distressed him ; so we 
 most thankfully accepted it: " Then," said he. 
 " we have nothing more to do, than, by drawing on 
 my stock of turf, to refresh our fire, and enjoy it ; 
 but, Gentlemen, I presume you have not dined ; 
 I have some fine fish which that young angler, 
 my son, here," introducing us to him, " has this 
 morning caught in a neighbouring lake, esteemed 
 of fine quality, which with a fowl and a bit of 
 bacon and some peas (early, you will say, for the 
 mountains, but I am my own gardener), may be 
 instantly got ready :" so having given the neces- 
 sary orders for this repast, he returned, and pressed 
 us to consider ourselves at home, and endeavour 
 to forget that we were strangers : " You see me 
 here a hermit, but though I have had some reasons 
 for leaving the world, I do not profess to be a cy- 
 nic, and shall to the last ' court the offices of sweet 
 humanity.' If there is one gratification greater 
 than another, it is to afford light to those who 
 need it, to open the door to the benighted tra- 
 veller; or by soothing kindness and seasonable 
 counsel reclaim the mind that is gone astray, and 
 correct its wanderings; from my peculiar situ- 
 ation here I have had some practice in this way, and 
 I have the conscious satisfaction to think that I 
 have more than once contributed to the repose of 
 the wayworn traveller, the wounded spirit, and 
 the victim of sensibility. I have lived much in 
 
33% 
 
 the world, and long enough to make me sick of 
 it; have suffered from the instability of fortune 
 and the delusion of friendship ; but, profiting by 
 my follies and my inexperience, am got into port be- 
 fore I was fairly wrecked, having had the resolution 
 to retire before I had lost my relish for the enjoyment 
 of happiness, and happiness I had to enjoy till the 
 grave swallowed it up." The tear swelled in his 
 eye ; he had struck a chord that was too moving, 
 and instantly changed the strain, saying, " How 
 thoughtless I am, gentlemen ! I should have asked 
 you if you would have taken any thing before 
 your dinner; I have mead of such strength as to 
 merit the name of cordial, and in cases of extreme, 
 fatigue or lowness of spirits I have known it ope- 
 rate most wonderfully as a restorative ; and, per- 
 haps, from your toil all day, and the agitation 
 which the awfulness of the storm might have oc- 
 casioned till you saw a place of shelter, you may 
 require something." On our replying, that we 
 were not in the habit of resorting to such aids, 
 and taking this opportunity of giving a new turn 
 to the conversation, we thought his countenance 
 resumed a melancholy smile, which settled into 
 apparent cheerfulness. His little parlour was a 
 model of elegant neatness; it was hung round 
 with a set of drawings from the pencil of the 
 young gentleman, his son, of scenes in the neighs 
 bourhood, in which was discovered a master's 
 hand. The young draftsman was not then pre- 
 sent, being gone to see that proper directions were 
 given about the horses and guide, so that we were 
 
333 
 
 lavish of our praises. His father said that lie was 
 skilled in three things that were valuable resources 
 in retirement : music, drawing, and angling. For 
 his drawing, the specimens before them would best 
 vouch ; of his music they might by and by have 
 a proof, as well as of his angling, in the dish of 
 trout that was preparing. He said, that of all ac- 
 complishments drawing he ranked highest : in 
 music the entertainment ends with the perform- 
 ance ; and if you excel in it you wish for an au- 
 dience ; a man is soon tired of gratifying his own 
 ear ; whereas, in drawing you must be alone ; you 
 want no company but your pencil, and when your 
 work is over you leave something behind you. 
 Our dinner was now announced; the trout was 
 delicious, and we could not avoid remarking their 
 colour, approaching to that of salmon in full sea- 
 son. " This is nothing," said our host, " to what 
 the fish of a more distant lake, which my young 
 angler once visited, exhibit, of a much deeper 
 red and higher flavour : and yet no wonder, when 
 we trace the origin of this superior excellence by 
 traditional lore. It is said, that in the first colo- 
 nization of the country, the men of a certain 
 mountain district, wanting the indispensable means 
 of providing for population, women, in an adven- 
 ture similar to the rape of the Sabines, forcibly 
 seized the females of a neighbouring province, and 
 carried them off; but being pursued, a bloody 
 conflict took place, in which the ravishers fell, 
 and the violated ladies, whose affections they had 
 won, resolving not to survive their gallants and 
 
554 
 
 their disgrace, in the glow of injured honour, a 
 little subdued by the delicate blush of a softer 
 passion, rushed into a neighbouring lake, 
 which has ever since been called by a name 
 commemorative of the event, Llyn y Morwynion, 
 The Maidens Lake, where if they were not fairly 
 metamorphosed into trout, they had the reputation 
 at least of having given them their colour." After 
 our repast, which was served up with the same 
 neatness which characterized every thing that met 
 our eye, we were treated with the finest ale I ever 
 drank; thin, vinous, and flavoured in the brewage 
 with lemon-peel ; and mead most excellent. " You 
 see," said our host, " every thing is done in honour 
 of Wales : Welsh ale ! Welsh mead ! and I am not 
 without my Welsh harp, though no Welshman, — 
 * sic honor et nomen TVallice.' " Then addressing 
 himself to his son, he begged he would give us 
 a national tune on the national instrument, which 
 he mgst obligingly did, singing Welsh words 
 (having learned that venerable language since he 
 had been a resident here) to the air he played ; he 
 likewise favoured us with some beautiful Scotch 
 airs on his flute, which Jones says he managed in 
 a superior style. The young gentleman having 
 retired, which he did at an early hour, and a fresh 
 pyre of turf laid, our host, with a frankness that 
 seemed natural to him, let us a little into his his* 
 tory, which, to avoid the prolixity of detail, he 
 said he would beg our acceptance of a little pam- 
 phlet, a few impressions of which, by the help of 
 a small printing-press, which he and his son 
 worked, lie had struck off, entitled, The History 
 
335 
 
 of a Man disgusted with the World, if we would 
 at our leisure condescend to look it over. Our 
 conversation now became very various : we talked 
 of the acquaintance formed at public schools be- 
 tween men of different ranks, which very seldom 
 outlived the school-days : our host saifl he 
 never knew disparity of rank succeed in friend- 
 ship or in love. He was a melancholy instance of 
 its failure in the former : he was at a public school, 
 Oxford, and the Temple, at which three places he 
 had been in habits of the greatest intimacy with a 
 few young noblemen and men of large fortune, 
 some of whom he lived to see in power, and able 
 to serve him ; but the instant he asked a favour 
 they made a point to cut him, as they unmeaningly 
 term it. There is now a little man with whom he 
 had often mixed his commons, high in office, who 
 swells to fill his situation, who scarcely deigns to 
 recollect his name ; but to counterbalance such pi- 
 tiful pride, there is a senator of no less eminence, 
 an acquaintance of the same standing, who, after 
 a lapse of twenty-two years, happening to meet 
 him, took him by the hand with the same cor- 
 diality as marked their Temple intimacy, un- 
 changed, with his heart glowing at his fingers' 
 ends, a rare instance, he must own, and therefore 
 more to be valued. De minimis non curare seems 
 to be a maxim, he believed, with statesmen as w ;:ii 
 the law : " but commend me," says he, *' to the 
 man who when at College, and his expenses, as 
 there is generally the case, exceeded hi* ullowauce, 
 
oo 
 
 *6 
 
 and lie could not pay his taylor, gave him a sump- 
 tuous dinner, and did not spare the wine, which so 
 disarmed the man of the needle, that he could not 
 think of pressing his demands, fresh indulgences 
 being still purchased by fresh dinners. Yet when 
 he came into administration, and had the keeping 
 of the fountain of preferment, though he had long 
 before honourably discharged all his debts, yet he 
 remembered Snip and several of his other trades- 
 men, by giving them small places. Such considera- 
 tion in the midst of the most important state affairs, 
 in my estimate, outweighs all the mock patriotism 
 
 of these last fifty years, from W s to Sir F s 
 
 B -tt, or the boasted talents of the late Pilot 
 
 who weathered the storm, and his rival the Revo- 
 lution historian. Before we parted in the morning 
 I was struck with the sight of quill feathers stuck 
 upright every where I cast my eye, through all 
 his garden and little pleasure-ground; which, 
 though nil admirari in general is my motto, I 
 could not help noticing inquisitively. My host 
 had heard that in his predecessor's time, a clergy- 
 man, a man of learning too, who was in the habit 
 of visiting the place, never passed a feather that 
 occurred without immediately planting it in the 
 earth, a ceremony he religiously observed on such 
 occasions, and for which he never assigned any 
 reasons ; mere superstition ! Our hermit host 
 seemed to regret parting with us ; he said all part- 
 inn* was painful to him, and he felt it in a greater 
 decree every day. At Bangor we met the attor- 
 
 
337 
 
 ney, but not the letters, expected. Another night 
 of misery, then, is mine. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Charles ; remember and pity me. 
 
 Bangor, June 13, 180S. 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 What I long dreaded has come to pass ; 
 our friend this morning received letters full of 
 alarm as to the state of her health for whom he 
 lives ; and he has torn himself from me in a state 
 of distraction, resolved instantly to set sail for 
 Madeira. I offered him all the consolation I had 
 to give, or that friendship could dictate; but 
 " who can medicine to a mind diseased?" After 
 the first paroxysm, summoning his fortitude, he 
 became calm enough to have a letter of attorney 
 'filled to empower me to complete the business he 
 had to transact, and to make his will. He told 
 me he had left us both trustees for his nephew, 
 young Benson ; and as to publishing his Letters, 
 as well as the contents of his Carmarthen manu- 
 script, he left that totally to you and me, saying, 
 he felt but little interest in any thing now. His 
 fortitude then forsook him, his manly cheek was 
 wet with tears, his heart was bursting. At last, 
 grasping me by the hand, in an agony of conflict- 
 ing passions, with " Remember me to O'Brien," 
 which were his last words, he turned from me, 
 never looked back, rushed into the chaise, and 
 
 ■ 
 
I ■ 
 338 
 
 drove off. I shall be here for at least a fortnight, 
 before I can finish the business left me to accom- 
 plish ; so I may hope to hear from you, and it 
 would be but charity to endeavour to raise the de- 
 pressed spirits of, dear Sir, 
 
 Yours most sincerely, 
 
 H. JoNES-. 
 
 THE rNX>. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 25, line 19, for lonely, read lovely* 
 
 37, line 20, for way, read weigh. 
 
 — — 77, line 12, make the same correction. 
 
 . 90, line 1 5, insert end after east. 
 
 — — 169, dele the full stop at the end of the last line. 
 
 178, line 16, for Munarnawan, read Manama WaE* 
 
 ■ ■ 190, for waiste, read wriste. 
 
 — — 252, line 5, after heads insert and. 
 
 $. QwRAfci; frntv* JLitsIc; &ueea Stre&,