The birth of a son, which followed shortly after the publication of the Ode to Kosciusko, he thus records in a SONNET AND LETTER TO THE REV. WALTER BIRCH. Walter, the hour is come in which the name Abbots-Bromley, July 18, 1797. In these words, dear Birch, you have the event of my becoming a father, and my reflexions on that event told you very plainly. Your friendship will share with me in my joy, when I add that the mother and her son, who came into the world yesterday evening, are as well as possible. It was 550 après la naissance de Christ. On prétend que ce Lechus choisit la ville de Gnisen (Gnesne) pour le lieu de sa résidence, à cause de l'heureux présage qu'il saisoit d'un nid d'aigle qu'il avait trouvé là. Et ce fut pour cette raison qu'il fit mettre un aigle dans les armes de cette république, et qu'il appella la ville Gnisen (Gnesne) du nom Gnesne, qui veut nid en langue Polonoise.-Puffendorf, Intro. de la Pologne. in the expectation of this pleasant little disturbance in our house that I have delayed writing to you, as I wished to be able to fix a time with you for your coming here. Your letter tells me you remain at Oxford till the 22nd of this month, from the agreeable necessity of being elected fellow at that time. I hoped it would have been in my power to have invited you immediately on your accession to your new dignity, and to have seen you while you were yet κύδεϊ γαίων. But I must now forego that hope, and request you will consult your own convenience in coming to me whenever you please between this month (when I hope to have my walls free of gossips) and next Easter, when it is our intention to make a journey to Ireland. It will be a delightful task to me to endeavour to repair the health which you complain of as injured, by not suffering you to indulge in those three things which cause its detriment-sedentariness, poring over books, and abstemiousness. The word indulge is not improper, even for the last, as you feel more pleasure in refusing the glass of wine than I in taking it, when it would be better for you not to refuse it. Poor Burke, or rather, great and excellent Burke ! You have already joined with me, Birch, in lamenting the greatest writer, and one of the most amiable and venerable characters of our age. Have you read a little poem I have just published? It is an Ode to General Kosciusko, of which the best that can be said, and perhaps all, is, that it is a homage to one who deserves homage. I feel a sort of satisfaction, though but a poor one, in having mentioned Burke's name in it with respect, in that public manner during his life. You are happier in being able to say even tantum vidi. My friend Lister must be sorry for having treated him rather roughly in a political pamphlet he has lately published, called "A Mirror for Princes." But, perhaps both our praise and blame would be to him no more than the dew shaken off from the lion's mane. I was indeed disappointed at not seeing Charles Digby. Your letter does not betray that decrease of enthusiasm you think you feel, particularly when you mention Bullock. I wish to send one of my odes to Crowe, and would be glad if you would order it at Fletcher's, and leave it for him at New College, with "From the Author" written in it. It is printed for Cadell and Davies. Adieu, dear Birch, yours truly ever, TO THE REV. WILLIAM DIGBY. DEAR DIGBY, Abbots-Bromley, July 18, 1797. I cannot refrain from imparting to you the joy which I feel on becoming a father. Yesterday evening gave me that respectable character, or rather, respectable only as it is well performed. The mother and her babe are both well. I have expressed the sentiment of anxiety for my education of my son in a sonnet to Birch, which, as it is a testimony to the excellent qualities of our friend, I know you will read with pleasure: I will therefore transcribe it on the next leaf. I had hopes of seeing Charles Digby here last Easter. He would have given me great pleasure, and I should have listened with cormorant avidity to the tale of his travels. I trust my pleasure is only delayed. Is Bullock in town? If he is give him a gentle chiding for not writing to me, and let him know my good fortune. If I were a caricaturist I would draw the successful candidate of Oriel looking down with scorn on the rejected one. With best wishes for your happiness, Believe me, yours, most faithfully, H. F. CARY. TO WALTER BIRCH, Esq. MY DEAR BIRCH, Abbots-Bromley, Sept. 25, 1797. I should have congratulated you sooner on your instalment in academical dignity if I had not known that good fortune which is certain before-hand is seldom highly esteemed. If I waited for matter, my letter would be still longer delayed. But the fear of losing your company the next winter, which may perhaps be secured by a timely application, will not suffer me to continue my silence, though it will be broken to very little other purpose. You will remember, then, that I am to go to Ireland at Easter, and that I have your promise of a visit before that time. Perhaps you can fix it for Christmas. I can offer you nothing better than long walks among the green hollies of Needwood Forest, and long evenings divided between nursing and reading. No feasts, no dances. The latter, I suppose, will be little regretted by the gravity of a Fellow; how far your indifference to the former may be affected by your new station I will not venture to prognosticate. For, though it be no enemy to "calm Peace and Quiet," yet I don't believe it equally friendly to "spare Fast, that with the gods doth diet," in whose company it will gladly leave it. I am curious to know how your former tem |