in all seasons when the weather is dry, in the open air, forming for his scenes new plans of cultivation and ornament. Look at Mr. Sneyd, ye young men of fortune, and reflect upon the robust and happy consequence of youthful sobriety, of religion, morality, had a cultivated mind!

"The age of such is as a lusty winter,
"Frosty, but kindly.

In the spring of the year 1778 the children of Colonel and Mrs. Pole of Radburn, in Derbyshire, had been injured by a dangerous quantity of the cicuta, injudiciously administered to them in the hooping cough, by a physician of the neighbourhood. Mrs. Pole brought them to the house of Dr. Darwin, in Lichfield, remaining with them there a few weeks, till, by his art, the poison was expelled from their constitutions, and their health restored.

Mrs. Pole was then in full bloom of her youth and beauty. Agreeable features; the glow of health; a fascinating smile; a fine form, tall and graceful; playful sprightliness of manners; a benevolent heart, and maternal affection, in all its unwearied cares and touching tenderness, contributed to inspire Dr. Darwin's admiration, and to secure

his esteem. Soon after she left Lichfield, with her renovated little ones, their restorer sent to his friend, Mr. Bolton of Birmingham, the following directions for making a tea-vase, designed as a present from the Doctor to Mrs. Pole:

Friend Bolton, take these ingots fine
From rich Potosi's sparkling mine;
With your nice art a tea-vase mould,
Your art, more valu'd than the gold.

With orient pearl, in letters white,

Around it, "To the fairest," write;

And, where proud Radburn's turrets rise,

To bright Eliza send the prize.

I'll have no bending serpents kiss
The foaming wave, and seem to hiss;
No sprawling dragons gape with ire,
And snort out steam, and vomit fire;
No Naiads weep; no sphinxes stare;
No tail-hung dolphins swim in air.

Let leaves of myrtle round the rim,

With rose-buds twisting, shade the brim;

Each side let woodbine stalks descend,

And form the branches as they bend;

While on the foot a Cupid stands

And twines the wreath with both his hands.

Perch'd on the rising lid above,

O place a lovelorn, turtle dove,

With hanging wing, and ruffled plume,
With gasping beak, and eye of gloom.

Last, let the swelling bosses shine
With silver, white, and burnish'd fine,
Bright as the fount, whose banks beside
Narcissus gaz'd, and lov'd, and died.

Vase, when Eliza deigns to pour,
With snowy hand, thy boiling shower;

And sweetly talks, and smiles, and sips

The fragrant steam, with ruby lips,

More charms thy polish'd orb shall shew

Than Titian's glowing pencil drew;

More than his chisel soft unfurl'd,

Whose heav'n-wrought statue charms the world.

Soon after the composition of these gallant verses to Mrs. Pole, circumstances arose which gave rise to the following ode, not less beautiful, though much less gay:

Fly, gentle steeds!...o'er yon unfriendly towers
Malignant stars, with baleful influence reign;
Cold Beauty's frown infects the cheerless hours,
And Avarice dwells in Love's polluted fane!

Dim distant towers! whose ample roof protects
All that my beating bosom holds so dear,
Far shining lake! whose silver wave reflects
Of Nature's fairest forms, the form most fair;

Groves, where at noon the sleeping Beauty lies; Lawns, where at eve her graceful footsteps rove; full oft have heard my secret sighs,

For

ye

And caught unseen, the tear of hopeless love;

Farewell! a long farewell!....your shades among

No more these eyes shall drink Eliza's charms:
No more these ears the music of her tongue!....
O! doom'd for ever to another's arms!

Fly, gentle steeds!....my bleeding heart convey
Where brighter scenes and milder planets shine;

Where Joy's white pinion glitters in the ray,

And Love sits smiling on his crystal shrine!

About the summer 1778 the countess of Northesk rested at one of the inns in Lichfield, on her way to Scotland by the shortest possible stages. She had been a year in England, for the benefit of her health, wasting rapidly by hemorrhage. Ineffectually had the most eminent physicians of London and Bath endeavoured to check the progress of her

disease. Her youngest daughter, Lady Marianne Carnegie, then an amiable girl of thirteen, now, alas! no more, and their friend, Mrs. Scott, were the companions of Lady Northesk's journey. Her ladyship told the mistress of the inn that she was going home to die, the physicians having confessed that art could do no more in her case. The person replied, "I wish, Madam, that you would send for "our Doctor, he is so famous." Lady Northesk consented.

When Dr. Darwin came, he observed that he could do little on transient observation, where the disease was obstinate, and of such long continuance; pressed her to remove with her daughter and friend to his house, and to remain his guests during a fortnight. The invitation was accepted. He requested the author of these memoirs frequently to visit his new patient, contribute to amuse her, and abate the inevitable injury of perpetual self

attention.

Miss Seward felt herself extremely interested in this lady, and anxious to see those sufferings relieved which were so patiently sustained. Lady Northesk lay on a couch, through the day, in Dr. Darwin's parlour, drawing with difficulty that breath, which seemed often on the point of final evaporation. She was thin, even so transparency;