William Cowper to Rev. John Newton-Electioneering at Olney. without the least apprehension of any such intrusion, in our snug parlor, one lady knitting, the other netting, and the gentleman winding worsted, when, to our unspeakable surprise, a mob appeared before the window; a smart rap was heard at the door, the boys hallooed, and the maid announced Mr. Grenville. Puss was unfortunately let out of her box, so that the candidate, with all his good friends at his heels, was refused admittance at the grand entry, and referred to the back door as the only possible way of approach. Candidates are creatures not very susceptible of affronts, and would rather, I suppose, climb in at the window than be absolutely excluded. In a minute the yard, the kitchen, and the parlor were filled. Mr. Grenville, advancing toward me, shook me by the hand with a degree of cordiality that was extremely seducing. As soon as he and as many as could find chairs were seated, he began to open the intent of his visit. I told him I had no vote, for which he readily gave me credit. I assured him I had no influence, which he was not equally inclined to believe, and the less, no doubt, because Mr. G- , addressing himself to me at that moment, informed me that I had a great deal. Supposing that I could not be possessed of such a treasure without knowing it, I ventured to confirm my first assertion by saying that if I had any, I was utterly at a loss to imagine where it could be or wherein it consisted. Thus ended the conference. Mr. Grenville squeezed me by the hand again, kissed the ladies, and withdrew. He kissed, likewise, the maid in the kitchen, and seemed upon the whole a most loving, kissing, kindhearted gentleman. He is very young, genteel, and handsome. He has a pair of very good eyes in his head, which not being sufficient, as it should seem, for the many nice and difficult pur William Cowper to Rev. John Newton-Electioneering at Olney. poses of a senator, he had a third also, which he wore suspended by a riband from his button-hole. The boys halloo'd, the dogs barked, puss scampered, the hero with his long train of obsequious followers withdrew. We made ourselves very merry with the adventure, and in a short time settled into our former tranquillity, never probably to be thus interrupted more. I thought myself, however, happy in being able to affirm truly, that I had not that influence for which he sued, and for which, had I been possessed of it, with my present views of the dispute between the Crown and the Commons, I must have refused him, for he is on the side of the former. It is comfortable to be of no consequence in a world where one cannot exercise any without disobliging somebody. The town, however, seems to be much at his service, and if he be equally successful throughout the country he will undoubtedly gain his election. Mr. Ashburner perhaps was a little mortified, because it was evident that I owed the honor of this visit to his misrepresentation of my importance. But had he thought proper to assure Mr. Grenville that I had three heads, I should not, I suppose, have been bound to produce them.* * An admirable illustration of the style of an old English canvass, is furnished in the following anecdote of Lord Wharton, the greatest master of the art of electioneering England ever saw-occurring at an earlier period, 1705. His lordship," says his biographer, "having recommended two candidates to the borough of Wicomb, some of the staunch Churchmen invited two of their own party to oppose them, and money was spent by both sides. A gentleman, a friend of one of the High Church candidates, was desired by him to go down to the borough with him when he went, to make his interest. This gentleman told me the story, and that he was a witness of what past when they came to Wicomb. They found my Lord Wharton was got there before them (of course), and was going up and down the town with his friends to secure votes on their side. The gentleman with his two candidates, and a very few followers, marched on one side of the street; my Lord Wharton's William Cowper to Rev. John Newton-Electioneering at Olney. Mr. Scott, who you say was so much admired in your pulpit, would be equally admired in his own, at least by all capable judges, were he not so apt to be angry with his congregation. This hurts him, and had he the understanding and eloquence of Paul himself, would still hurt. He seldom, hardly ever, indeed, preaches a gentle, well-tempered sermon, but I hear it highly commended; but warmth of temper, indulged to a degree that may be called scolding, defeats the end of preaching. It is a misapplication of his powers, which it also cripples, and teases away his hearers. But he is a good man, and may perhaps outgrow it. Many thanks for the worsted, which is excellent. We are as well as a spring, hardly less severe than the severest winter, will give us leave to be. With our united love, we conclude ourselves yours, and Mrs. Newton's affectionate and faithful, W. C. candidates and a great company on the other. The gentleman not being known to my Lord or the townsmen, joined in with his lordship's men to make discoveries, and was by when my lord, entering a shoemaker's shop, asked 'where Dick was!' The good women said, 'her husband was gone two or three miles off with some shoes, but his lordship need not fear him—she would keep him tight.' 'I know that,' says my lord, 'but I want to see Dick, and drink a glass with him.' The wife was very sorry Dick was out of the way. 'Well,' says his lordship, how does all thy children? Molly is a brave girl, I warrant, by this time.' 'Yes, I thank ye, my lord,' says the woman; and his lordship continued, 'Is not Jemmy breeched yet?' At this stage the gentleman slipped away to inform his friends that opposition to Wharton was hopeless. Nothing could stand against a great peer who had such a knowledge of the ages of Molly and Jemmy."--H. Dr. Beattie to Sir William Forbes-Life at an English Country Parsonage. XXXIV.—LIFE AT AN ENGLISH COUNTRY PARSONAGE. Dr. Beattie to Sir William Forbes. HUNTON (near Maidstone), KENT, July 31st, 1784. Your last letter having given me the fullest assurance that the unfortunate object of our attention is now in circumstances as comfortable as her condition will admit of, I have been endeavoring to relieve my mind, for a time at least, from that load of anxiety which has so long oppressed it; and I already feel the happy consequences of this endeavor. My health is greatly improved; and, if this rheumatism would let me alone, I might almost say that I am quite well. Certain it is that I have not been so well any time these four years. The tranquillity and beauty, the peace and the plenty, of this charming country, are a continual feast to my imagination; and I must be insensible, indeed, if the kindness, the cheerfulness, the piety, and the instructive conversation, of my excellent friend the Bishop of Chester, and his amiable lady, did not powerfully operate in soothing my mind, and improving my heart. Those people of fashion in the neighborhood, who visit the bishop and are visited by him, are a small but select society, and eminently distinguished for their piety, politeness, literature, and hospitality. Among them I have found some old friends, whom I formerly knew in London, and have acquired some new ones, on whom I set a very high value. Mr. Langton and Lady Rothes have just left us, after a visit of two days. You will readily imagine with what regret we parted with them. Our friend Langton is continually improving in virtue, learning, and every other thing that is good. I always admired and loved him; but now I love and admire him more than ever. We had much conversation Dr. Beattie to Sir William Forbes-Life at an English Country Parsonage. about you. I have given the bishop a full account of my family transactions, particularly for the last twelvemonth. He highly approves of every thing that has been done; bestows great commendations on my conduct; and has given me such advices as one would expect from his good sense and knowledge of the world. I have not yet fixed a day for my departure from this paradise; but I fear it must be in the course of next week. My friends urge me to prolong my stay, and I am much disposed to do so; but I must now remember that the year begins to decline, and I have several other visits to make, and things to do, before I leave England. Meanwhile, I shall, from time to time, let you know where I am, and what I am doing. Any letter you may favor me with, you will be pleased to put under the Bishop of Chester's cover. If I could give you an adequate idea of the way in which we pass our time at Hunton, I am sure you would be pleased with it. This is a rainy day, and I have nothing else to do at present; why, then, should I not make the trial? Our hour of breakfast is ten. Immediately before it the bishop calls his family together, prays with them, and gives them his blessing; the same thing is constantly done after supper, when we part for the night. In the intervals of breakfast, and in the evening, when there is no company, his lordship sometimes reads to us in some entertaining book. After breakfast, we separate and amuse ourselves, as we think proper, till four, the hour of dinner. At six, when the weather is fair, we either walk, or make a visit to some of the clergy or gentry in the neighborhood, and return about eight. We then have music, in which I am sorry to say that I am almost the only performer. I have got a violoncello, and play Scotch tunes, and perform Han |