essantly offer at your shrine--a shrine, how far
exalted above such adoration--permit me, were it but for rarity's
sake, to pay you the honest tribute of a warm heart and an independent
mind; and to assure you, that I am, thou most amiable and most
accomplished of thy sex, with the most respectful esteem, and fervent
regard, thine, &c.

R. B.

* * * * *

CCLXXXVI.

TO MRS. RIDDEL.

[The patient sons of order and prudence seem often to have stirred the
poet to such invectives as this letter exhibits.]

I will wait on you, my ever-valued friend, but whether in the morning
I am not sure. Sunday closes a period of our curst revenue business,
and may probably keep me employed with my pen until noon. Fine
employment for a poet's pen! There is a species of the human genus
that I call _the gin-horse class:_ what enviable dogs they are! Round,
and round, and round they go,--Mundell's ox that drives his
cotton-mill is their exact prototype--without an idea or wish beyond
their circle; fat, sleek, stupid, patient, quiet, and contented; while
here I sit, altogether Novemberish, a d--mn'd melange of fretfulness
and melancholy; not enough of the one to rouse me to passion, nor of
the other to repose me in torpor, my soul flouncing and fluttering
round her tenement, like a wild finch, caught amid the horrors of
winter, and newly thrust into a cage. Well, I am persuaded that it was
of me the Hebrew sage prophesied, when he foretold--"And behold, on
whatsoever this man doth set his heart, it shall not prosper!" If my
resentment is awaked, it is sure to be where it dare not squeak: and
if-- * * * * *

Pray that wisdom and bliss be more frequent visiters of

R. B.

* * * * *

CCLXXXVII.

TO MRS. RIDDEL.

[The bard often offended and often appeased this whimsical but very
clever lady.]

I have this moment got the song from Syme, and I am sorry to see that
he has spoilt it a good deal. It shall be a lesson to me how I lend
him anything again.

I have sent you "Werter," truly happy to have any the smallest
opportunity of obliging you.

'Tis true, Madam, I saw you once since I was at Woodlea; and that once
froze the very life-blood of my heart. Your reception of me was such,
that a wretch meeting the eye of his judge, about to pronounce
sentence of death on him could only have envied my feelings and
situation. But I hate the theme, and ne