His first want was a pair of shoes. For the supply of all his necessities, his whole fund was his 'Winter,' which for a time could find no purchaser; till, at last, Mr. Millar, a bookseller in the Strand, was persuaded to buy it at a low price; and this low price he had for some time reason to regret: but, by accident, Mr. Whatley, a man not wholly unknown among authors, happening to turn his eye upon it, was so delighted, that he ran from place to place celebrating its excellence. Thomson obtained likewise the notice of Aaron Hill, whom (being friendless and indigent, and glad of kindness) he courted with every expression of servile adulation.

• Winter' was dedicated to Sir Spencer Compton, but attracted no regard from him to the author; till Aaron Hill awakened his attention by some verses addressed to Thomson, and published in one of the newspapers, which censured the great for their ne glect of ingenious men. Thomson then received a present of twenty guineas, of which he gives this account to Mr. Hill:

I hinted to you in my last, that on Saturday morning I was with Sir Spencer Compton. A certain gentleman, without my desire, spoke to him" concerning me; his answer was, that I had never come near him. Then the gentleman put the ques tion, if he desired that I should wait on him? he returned, he did. On this the gentleman gave me an introductory letter to him. He received me in what they commonly call a civil manner; asked me some common-place questions; and made me a present of twenty guineas. I am very ready to own that the present was larger than my performance deserved; and shall ascribe it to his generosity, or any other cause, rather than the merit of the address.'

The poem, which, being of a new kind, few would venture at first to like, by degrees gained upon the public; and one edition was very speedily succeeded by another.

Thomson's credit was now high, and every day brought him new friends; among others, Dr. Rundle, a man afterwards unfortunately famous, sought his acquaintance, and found his qualities such that he recommended him to the Lord Chancellor Talbot.

Winter' was accompanied, in many editions, not only with a preface and dedication, but with poetical praises by Mr. Hill, Mr. Mallet (then Malloch), and Mira, the fictitious name of a lady once too well known. Why the dedications to Winter' and the other Seasons, are, contrarily to custom, left out in the collected works, is not known.

The next year (1727) he distinguished himself by three publications: of Summer,' in pursuance of his plan; of A Poem on the Death of Sir Isaac Newton,' which he was enabled to perform as an exact philosopher by the instruction of Mr. Gray; and of Britannia,' a kind of poetical invective against the ministry, whom the nation then thought not forward enough in resenting the depredations of the Spaniards. By this piece he declared himself an adherent to the opposition, and had therefore no favour to expect from the court.

Thomson, having been some time entertained in the family of Lord Binning, was desirous of testifying his gratitude by making him the patron of his • Summer;' but the same kindness which had first disposed Lord Binning to encourage him, determined him to refuse the dedication, which was, by his advice, addressed to Mr. Dodington, a man who had more power to advance the reputation and fortune of the poet.

'Spring' was published next year, with a dedicaeation to the Countess of Hartford; whose practice it was to invite every summer some poet into the country, to hear her verses, and assist her studies. This honour was one summer conferred on Thomson, who took more delight in carousing with Lord Hartford, and his friends, than assisting her lady

ship's poetical operations, and therefore never received another summons.

'Autumn,' the season to which the Spring' and 'Summer' are preparatory, still remained unsung, and was delayed till he published (1730) his works collected*.

He produced (1727) the tragedy of 'Sophonisba,' which raised such expectation, that every rehearsal was dignified with a splendid audience, collected to anticipate the delight that was preparing for the public. It was observed, however, that nobody was much affected, and that the company rose as from a moral lecture.

Thomson was not long afterwards, by the influence of Dr. Rundle, sent to travel with Mr. Charles Talbot, the eldest son of the Chancellor. He was yet young enough to receive new impressions, to have his opinions rectified, and his views enlarged; nor can he be supposed to have wanted that curiosity which is inseparable from an active and comprehensive mind. He may therefore now be supposed to have revelled in all the joys of intellectual luxury; he was every day feasted with instructive novelties; he lived splendidly without expense; and might expect when he returned home a certain establishment.

At this time a long course of opposition to Sir Robert Walpole had filled the nation with clamours for liberty, of which no man felt the want, and with care for liberty, which was not in danger. Thomson, in his travels on the Continent, found or fan. cied so many evils arising from the tyranny of other

The autumn was his favourite season for po. etical composition; and the deep silence of the night, the time he commonly chose for study; so that he was often heard walking in his library, repeating what he was to correct or write out the next day.

governments, that he resolved to write a very long poem, in five parts, upon Liberty.

While he was busy on the first book, Mr. Talbot died; and Thomson, who had been rewarded for his attendance by the place of Secretary of the Briefs, pays in the initial lines a decent tribute to his me mory.

Upon this great poem two years were spent, and the author congratulated himself upon it as his noblest work; but an author and his reader are not always of a mind. Liberty called in vain upon her votaries to read her praises, and reward her encomiast: her praises were condemned to harbour spiders, and to gather dust.

Thomson now lived in ease and plenty, and seems for a while to have suspended his poetry; but he was soon called back to labour by the death of the Chancellor, for his place then became vacant; and though the Lord Hardwicke delayed for some time to give it away, Thomson's bashfulness, or pride, or some other motive, withheld him from soliciting, and the new Chancellor would not give him what he would not ask.

He now relapsed to his former indigence; but the Prince of Wales was at that time struggling for popularity, and by the influence of Mr. Lyttelton professed himself the patron of wit. To him Thomson was introduced, and being interrogated about the state of his affairs, said that they were in a more poetical posture than formerly;' and had a pension allowed him of one hundred pounds a year.

Being now obliged to write, he produced (1738) the tragedy of Agamemnon,' which was much shortened in the representation. It had the fate which most commonly attends mythological stories, and was only endured, but not favoured. It strug gled with such difficulty through the first night, that Thomson, coming late to his friends with whom he was to sup, excused his delay by telling them

how the sweat of his distress had so disordered his wig, that he could not come till he had been refitted by a barber.

He so interested himself in his own drama, that, if I remember right, as he sat in the upper gallery, he accompanied the players by audible recitation, till a friendly hint frightened him to silence. Pope countenanced 'Agamemnon,' by coming to it the first night, and was welcomed to the theatre by a general clap: he had much regard for Thomson, and once expressed it in a poetical Epistle sent to Italy.

He was soon after employed, in conjunction with Mr. Mallet, to write the masque of Alfred,' which was acted before the Prince at Cliefden-house.

His next work (1745) was Tancred and Sigismunda,' the most successful of all his tragedies; for it still keeps its turn upon the stage.

His friend Mr. Lyttelton was now in power, and conferred upon him the office of Surveyor-General of the Leeward Islands; from which, when his deputy was paid, he received about three hundred pounds a year,

The last piece, that he lived to publish, was the Castle of Indolence,' which was many years under his hand, but was at last finished with great ac. curacy. The first canto opens a scene of lazy lux. ury, that fills the imagination.

He was now at ease, but was not long to enjoy it; for, by taking cold on the water between London and Kew, he caught a disorder, which terminated in a fever, that put an end to his life, August 27, 1748. He was buried in the church of Richmond, without an inscription: but a monument has been erected to his memory in Westminster-abbey.

Thomson was of stature above the middle size, and more fat than bard beseems;' of a dull countenance, and a gross, unanimated, uninviting ap. pearance; silent in mingled company, but cheerful