notwithstanding a long absence, new acquaintance, and additional
eminence; of which the following instance cannot be unacceptable to the
reader.

Some time before Mr. Thomson's fatal illness, a gentleman enquired for
him at his house in Kew-Lane, near Richmond, where he then lived. This
gentleman had been his acquaintance when very young, and proved to be
Dr. Gustard, the son of a revd. minister in the city of Edinburgh. Mr.
Gustard had been Mr. Thomson's patron in the early part of his life, and
contributed from his own purse (Mr. Thomson's father not being in very
affluent circumstances) to enable him to prosecute his studies. The
visitor sent not in his name, but only intimated to the servant that an
old acquaintance desired to see Mr. Thomson. Mr. Thomson came forward to
receive him, and looking stedfastly at him (for they had not seen one
another for many years) said, Troth Sir, I cannot say I ken your
countenance well--Let me therefore crave your name. Which the gentleman
no sooner mentioned but the tears gushed from Mr. Thomson's eyes. He
could only reply, good God! are you the son of my dear friend, my old
benefactor; and then rushing to his arms, he tenderly embraced him;
rejoicing at so unexpected a meeting.

It is a true observation, that whenever gratitude is absent from a
heart, it is generally capable of the most consummate baseness; and on
the other hand, where that generous virtue has a powerful prevalence in
the soul, the heart of such a man is fraught with all those other
endearing and tender qualities, which constitute goodness. Such was the
heart of this amiable poet, whose life was as inoffensive as his page
was moral: For of all our poets he is the farthest removed from whatever
has the appearance of indecency; and, as Sir George Lyttleton happily
expresses it, in the prologue to Mr. Thomson's Coriolanus,

--His chaste muse employ'd her heav'n-taught lyre
None but the noblest passions to inspire,
Not one immoral, one corrupted thought,
One line, which dying he could wish to blot.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]
See winter comes to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train!
Vapours, and storms, and clouds; be these my theme;
These that exalt the soul to solemn thought,
And heav'nly musing; welcome kindred glooms.
Congenial horrors hail!--with frequent foot
Oft have I in my pleasing calm of life,
When nurs'd by careless solitude I liv'd,
Oft have I wander'd