My loved friend, where there is taste, judgment, and a heart, there will be always objects to employ them. You can, therefore, never find a sterile spot on any part of the earth; and in thefe Provinces, had you made the tour in them, as often as I have, and topped as long in each, you would ftill fay as Titus, does to Berenice in the French

play

M

T

Depuis deux ans entiers chaque jour je la vois,
"Et crois toujours la voir pour la premiere fois.".

And this reminds me of the verfes, which were to form the bandeau of my firft fheaf, (or volume); and which you may imagine, I have forgot. Ah no! I fhall never forget them, while I am alive to the memory of fenfations of gratitude, elegance, or focial pleafure; for amidft fuch were they written, in the bofom of a numerous family, from each of whom I found comfort in affliction, attendance in fickness, and felicitations on recovery, that made me almost congratulate myself, that I had been both unwell and unhappy. this I will one day

"A round unvarnish'd take deliver."

Of all

6

Meanwhile

Meanwhile accept the poetical bouquet, an offering of justice to the talents of one of the family party.

NATURE to Mrs. ***

ON CUTTING

BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS AND FRUITS

OUT OF CARROTS AND TURNIPS.

MADAM,

THE God who made the world, and saw it fair, Gave it in truft to my peculiar care;

Prefented, with it, a conferving power

O'er ev'ry living herb, tree, fruit, and flow's.
NATURE, he faid, be this my high decree,
No God but I!-no Goddeffes but thee!

This law divine all human things confefs'd,
And own'd the works of Nature were the best..
Like NATURE none could bid the flow'ret bloom,
Paint in fuch colours, blend fuch rich perfume;
My pink, rofe, violet, jasmine, seem'd so fair,
While NATURE triumph'd, ART was in defpair,
Where'er I mov'd, a thousand odours flew,
And at my touch a thousand beauties grew.

But

But, left you should imagine the Mufe is here facrificing to Gratitude only, I must enter a caveat by observing to you in honeft, plain prose, that the imitations of Nature here alluded to are really fo beautiful, that if Nature herfelf did not miffake them for her own, fhe need not be ashamed to own them.

with fhame I burn!
But my reign ends :—with rage,
Since you my meaneft arms against me turn,
'Tis time for NATURE to renounce her pow'rs,
When from her carrots you can form her flow'rs,
And of her vileft turnips of the field-
Yes-robber-yes, 'tis time that I fhould yield-
In one fhort hour you bid a pink appear,
Would keep me hard at work for halfa

year.

Madam, beware-ah! dread Prometheus' fate!
You've ftole my fire-repent ere yet too late.
Turnips and carrots! O my bursting heart!
The God that made us both shall know your art.
And this, Ingrate! to me! to whom you owe
Unnumber'd other charms; thus, thus, to go,
Thus fteal my paint and pencil! all my store!
Here, take my throne, fince you've ufurp'd my power,

THE ANSWER.

MRS. H*********, to NATURE.

DEAR MADAM,

WHY this harsh complaint of me?

Two of a trade, 'tis plain, can ne'er agree.

But if between us rights were fairly fettled,

About these flow'rs, 'tis I, Ma'am, fhould be nettled.

From Spring's first bud to Autumn's latest flow'r,
I own your magic, and admire your power:
And as I count those wond'rous beauties o'er,
E'en with a lover's fondness I adore.

Affection kindles, warms th' enthusiast heart,
Till love of NATURE leads to love of ART.

Dear

Dear NATURE, "thou 'rt my Goddess!" yet 'tis hard

Thou wilt not grant thy vo'try her reward.
Suppose yourself a moment in my place,
Pray, Madam, let us truly ftate the cafe,
The carrots and the turnips both are thine,
Your's the material, tho' the work be mine;
And, if I build, 'tis with your brick and straw;
The abettor and the thief both feel the law.
You say I steal-who help'd me, Ma'am to cheat?
'Tis NATURE at the bottom of the feat.
But e'en in theft you owe my art a favor,
Since my ftol'n goods give yours a double flavor.
Nor for my flow'rs ought you to be my foe,
Mine do not come 'till yours are out of blow.

A FRIEND,

To NATURE and MRS..

DEAR LADIES,

CEASE your fquabbling; I advise

You fettle this affair by compromise.

Out of the four, you NATURE, have three seasons,
Which for your full content are three good reasons.
From Spring to Winter yours the fmiling earth,
When fruits and flow'rs by miriads rush to birth.
But fure the fourth fad quarter, when they fleep,
Die in their beds, or only wake to weep;
When you yourself with cold are half expiring,
And half your works are only fit for firing;
Three difmal months, I truft, you'll not deny"
To her who can your lofs fo well fupply.

Work

Work then like fifters, lovingly together,

You take the smiling, fhe the frowning weather;
When froft and fnow benumbs the wonted pow'rs,
Let one fupply the roots, and one the flow'rs.
United thus, in love and friendship dear,

You'll make between you-Summer all the year i

SUPPLEMENTARY LETTERS.

LETTER I.

TO THE SAME.

ON a furvey of my ftores, however, under the article " Scraps, or Single Wheat Ears, and Field Flowers, collected in Holland, and arranged at the Brielle," the place whence I culled the fragrant Bandeau, which binds the Gleaning I laft fent you, I judge it best to attach them to this my firft fheaf. You will, therefore, receive them herewith, in fome Supplementary Letters, just as you may have obferved an induftrious day-labourer in Bb

VOL. I.

the