ord _hovering_, which he said strengthened the picture;
but surely the image ought not to be elaborately precise, by which a
dream is transformed into an animal with black wings."[150]

Then Mrs. Pole got well, and the doctor wrote more verses and Miss
Seward more criticism. It was not for nothing that Dr. Johnson came down
to Lichfield.

* * * * *

In 1780 Colonel Pole died, and his widow, still young, handsome, witty,
and--for those days--rich, was in no want of suitors.

"Colonel Pole," says Miss Seward, "had numbered twice the years of his
fair wife. His temper was said to have been peevish and suspicious; yet
not beneath those circumstances had her kind and cheerful attentions to
him grown cold or remiss. He left her a jointure of 600_l._ per annum, a
son to inherit his estate, and two female children amply portioned.

"Mrs. Pole, it has already been remarked, had much vivacity and sportive
humour, with very engaging frankness of temper and manners. Early in her
widowhood she was rallied in a large company upon Dr. Darwin's passion
for her, and was asked what she would do with her captive philosopher.
'He is not very fond of churches, I believe,' said she, 'and even if he
would go there for my sake, I shall scarcely follow him. He is too old
for me.' 'Nay, Madam,' was the answer, 'what are fifteen years on the
right side?' She replied, with an arch smile, 'I have had so _much_ of
that right side.'

"This confession was thought inauspicious for the doctor's hopes, but it
did not prove so. The triumph of intellect was complete."[151]

Mrs. Pole had taken a strong dislike to Lichfield, and had made it a
condition of her marriage that Dr. Darwin should not reside there after
he had married her. In 1781, therefore, immediately after his marriage,
he removed to Derby, and continued to live there till a fortnight before
his death.

Here he wrote 'The Botanic Garden' and a great part of the 'Zoonomia.'
Those who wish for a detailed analysis of 'The Botanic Garden' can
hardly do better than turn to Miss Seward's pages. Opening them at
random, I find the following:--

"The mention of Brindley, the father of commercial canals, has propriety
as well as happiness. Similitude for their course to the sinuous track
of a serpent, produces a fine picture of a gliding animal of that
species, and it is succeeded by these supremely happy lines:--

"'So with strong arms immortal Brindley leads
Hi