As thus they scan the visionary scene, On all sides swells the superstitious din.-Verse 1123. At last the roused-up river pours along : Resistless, roaring, dreadful, down it comes." Winter," v. 97. Of mighty waters.-Verse 166. With stars swift-gliding, sweep along the sky.-Verse 196. Others might be specified; but alliterations occur so seldom, and on the part of the poet so unconsciously, as to free him from the charge of affectation. To the "Seasons" I have prefixed the dedication "to His Royal Highness Frederic Prince of Wales," because it is Thomson's original inscription, in the editions of 1744 and 1746; and was superseded only when Murdoch, fourteen years after the poet's death, dedicated the Poetical "Works" to His Majesty King George III. I have also added the prose dedications to three of the "Seasons," (Autumn not having had one,) though they were omitted in Thomson's own editions of the "Works" in 1738 and 1744. Dr. Johnson very significantly observes: "Why the dedications are, to 'Winter' and the other 'Seasons,' contrarily to custom, left out in the collected 'Works,' the reader may inquire." The inquiry will satisfy him, that of the patrons to whom Thomson, like all rising men of talent, inscribed his poems as they severally appeared, some changed sides in politics, and became the antagonists of those friends to whom the poet adhered. In this predicament stood his fulsome dedication to Sir Robert Walpole, placed before the first edition of his "Poem to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton," but which was subsequently omitted. But of the three in the "Seasons," Thomson had no reason to be ashamed. More than fifty-five Summers have passed over my head since Thomson first became a choice companion in my holiday excursions among the deep glens and bold mountains which chequer the varying landscape in the neighbourhood of Halifax, Bradford, and Skipton, and among the still more romantic scenery of Wharfdale. In those happy days, I felt a high gratification in applying many of his interesting descriptions to those parts of the country toward which my attention was most attracted. Beyond the delight which I naturally took in gazing on such scenes ever charming, ever new," they acquired a still stronger hold on my affections, from a consciousness that the gifted author of the "Seasons" was my sacer vates, the best interpreter of those feelings with which I was then possessed as a passionate lover of nature; and which have in bewitching retrospection been sources to me of much intellectual enjoyment, in the lapse of intervening years, when I could seldom indulge in a short ramble among "those happy hills, that pleasing shade." It will not then be matter of wonder, if, while superintending this edition, the strong reviviscence of those youthful feelings may sometimes have betrayed me into expressions of enthusiastic admiration of the excellences of Thomson, and into forgetfulness of his imperfections. The judgment, I am aware, is always liable to be thus warped by the affections; but this frailty, if frailty it may here be deemed, will obtain from the public more ready forgiveness, than can ever be expected by a display of hypercritical severity against his character and his writings. 46, HOXTON-SQUARE, JAMES NICHOLS. December 9th, 1848. AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF MR. JAMES THOMSON. Ir is commonly said, that the life of a good writer is best read in his works; which can scarce fail to receive a peculiar tincture from his temper, manners, and habits: the distinguishing character of his mind, his ruling passion, at least, will there appear undisguised.* But however just this observation may be; and although we might safely rest Mr. Thomson's fame, as a good man, as well as a man of genius, on this sole footing; yet the desire which the public always shows of being more particularly acquainted with the history of an eminent author, ought not to be disappointed; as it proceeds not from mere curiosity, but chiefly from affection and gratitude to those by whom they have been entertained and instructed. To give some account of a deceased friend is often a piece of justice likewise, which ought not to be refused to his memory to prevent or efface the impertinent fictions which officious biographers are so apt to collect and propagate. And we may add, that the circumstances of an author's life will sometimes throw the best light upon his writings; instances whereof we shall meet with in the following pages. Mr. Thomson was born at Ednam, in the shire of Rox *See note Q, p. lxxiii. burgh, on the 11th of September, in the year 1700. His father, minister of that place, was but little known beyond the narrow circle of his co-presbyters, and to a few gentlemen in the neighbourhood; but highly respected by them, for his piety, and his diligence in the pastoral duty: as appeared afterwards in their kind offices to his widow and orphan family. cerns. The Rev. Messrs. Riccaltoun and Gusthart, particularly, took a most affectionate and friendly part in all their conThe former, a man of uncommon penetration and good taste, had very early discovered, through the rudeness of young Thomson's puerile essays, a fund of genius well deserving culture and encouragement. He undertook, therefore, with the father's approbation, the chief direction of his studies, furnished him with the proper books, corrected his performances, and was daily rewarded with the pleasure of seeing his labour so happily employed. The other Rev. gentleman, Mr. Gusthart, who is still living, (1762,) one of the ministers of Edinburgh, and senior of the chapel royal, was no less serviceable to Mrs. Thomson in the management of her little affairs; which, after the decease of her husband, burdened as she was with a family of nine children, required the prudent counsels and assistance of that faithful and generous friend. Sir William Bennet, likewise, well known for his gay humour and ready poetical wit, was highly delighted with our young poet, and used to invite him to pass the summer vacation at his country seat: a scene of life which Mr Thomson always remembered with particular pleasure.* But what he wrote during that time, either to entertain Sir William and Mr. Riccaltoun, or for his own amusement, he destroyed every new-year's day; committing his little * See note A, p. xxxvii. |