9503. literary olla, No. % 179 
and the lettets of the elegant author of the immortal ¢- 
egy in a country churchyard. Ah! said I, happy Wal- 
pole, happy West, to have had such a. man for your fel- 
low traveller, friend, and preceptor ; but I also‘had a Gray 
for mine.’ Then I thought of the dear and amiable 
young man whom duty had pointed out to my attention, 
and I conceived the design of writing a treatise concer- 
‘ning the nurture and legitimate happinefs of youth: and 
T resolved to send it to you, on account of your age, and 
“destination, your love and respect for me, and on account 
‘of your excellent father. 
I have cast it in the mould of a dialogue, in what I 
“with to make a chaste imitation of the ancients; and I 
have made Gray the chief speaker, and Walpole and West 
‘(the admirets of Gray,) the prolocutors in dialogue va 
the poet. 
Figure them then to yourself as walking together in the 
garden of Walpole, the young men ardent ia argument, 
and the sentimental poet hovering over their debate, mode~ 
tating it by his philosophy, and firing it with the sacred 
‘flame of his towering genius. 
West. How delightful is this vernal day and swéet 
retirement on the banks of the imperial Thames ; 
“‘ Tho’ deep yet clear, tho’ gentle yet not dull; 
_Stfong without rage, withous o’erflowing full.” 
I imagine Gray, by tuning his pipe to itso often, has 
been afsimulated to it, as we generally are to what we 
-admire. genet 
Walpole. Sentimental young rogue: I see what kind 
of sport you are thinking of on the margin of this river. 
You are f/bing for a compliment in immortal verse from 
Gray, when he fhall have finifhed his apprenticefhip to . 
the muse on the Thames, and set up in businefs for him- 
self, 
