1799.] 
ferent at Richmond Hill. From this en- 
chanting eminence, where {plendid variety 
conftitutes the diftinguifhing character— 
where wood and water, and thickly fcat- 
tered villas, lie ftretched beneath to an im- 
meafurable diftance, and the rich and de- 
corated expanfe is bounded only by the 
failing powers of vifion, the eye demands 
its fulleft liberty, and the ftrong ‘blaze 
and tranfparency of noon, or the warm 
glow of a cloudlefs evening, are accidents 
of colouring (if I may fo exprefs myfelf) 
that harmonife with the features of the 
pifture. This finithing, however, Nature 
was not in a mood to furnifh. ‘The ftn 
tantalifed us indeed with a fort of pro- 
mife; and two or three times a partial 
and tranfient beam gave us a glimpfe of 
the beauties we were forbidden to enjoy. 
But even with thefe difadvantages, the - 
fcene had fufficient attractions to detain us 
between three and four hours, including the 
time occupied by our flight and temperate 
repaft at the Plough and Harrow in Pe- 
terfham. 
By the way—the walk down the hill 
to Peterfham, between the Park and the 
Hanging Wood, fhould never be neglected 
by the picturefque traveller. The folemn 
grandeur and fhady fequeftration of this 
defcending path form a ftriking contraft 
to the gaiety and fplendour of the fcene 
above. Itis, indeed, a charming appen- 
dage to this celebrated profpect—wild, 
fombrous, and majeftic—a f{cene for folemn 
meditation and poetic rhapfody, where, in 
faét, I could loiter away more days and 
weeks, than on the commanding fummit 
of the hill itfelf. ‘That pomp of fcenery, 
that expanfe and publicity, of profpedct, 
which fo eminently diftinguifh Richmond 
Hill, fafcinate, indeed, the occafional ob- 
ferver: but in the piéturefque of nature, 
as in the intercourfes of life, it is princi- 
pally in the lowly vales and fhades of fo- 
ber fequeftration we muft feek the plea- 
fures that cloy not on repetition. 
The poet Gray, whofe pocket-book 
was our travelling guide and companion, 
in his litt of {eenes and fituations, has Tet 
down Twickenbam with a ftar of admira- 
tion: but certainly we faw nothing there 
to admire. In fact, the beauty of this 
place confifts in the profpeéts commanded 
from the houles and pleafure-grounds on 
the banks of the river. One of thefe, the 
garden of Pope, we ought to have had the 
curiofity to vifit: for though, to a lover of 
the fimplicity of Nature, that faétitions 
fcenery which furrounds the manfions of 
opulence has few attraétions ; yet as 
what little tafte for gardening we have 
MONTHLY Mac, No, XLVvill, 
Richmond Hill—Literary Vanity. 
533 
among us, féems to have been introduced 
by the bard of Twickenham, it is cer- 
tainly worth while to examine the originai 
model. 
The fpacious Palace of Hampton Court, 
the favourite refidence of William IIl. 
with all its modern patches and incon- 
gruities, is (till a very fine place. The 
garden, indeed, is execrable: but the 
river, and the gay luxuriance of the fur- 
rounding country, atone for every defect : 
and the walk from hence to. Sunbury 
(where we flept) may be ranked among 
the fineft fcenery of the Thames: nor is 
the effect a little heightened by the num- 
ber of fwans, who, failing round the little 
fcattered iflands, in which they have built 
their net's, give character and intereft to 
the icene. 
(Tobe continued.) 

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. 
SIR, 
Te very nature of thofe purpofes, the 
accomplifhment of which can alone 
prefent a fure teft of literary excellence, is 
fuch as to make literary men particularly 
liable to emotions of vanity. What un- 
equivocal proofs can there be obtained of 
the merits of any work of literature, other 
than the affent of the reader’s underftand- 
ing to the truths which it explains, other 
than the fympathy of every heart in the 
fentiments which it pours forth? Of all 
mankind, an author can the leaft fafely fet 
the common judgement of the world at de- 
fiance. If men fhall, in general, agree 
not toread my book ; if thofe who do read 
it be not impreffed by its fentiments and 
imagery, nor convinced by its reafonings 5 
it muft be bad, however differently I my- 
felf may be difpofed to think of its merits. 
Thus compelled, by the effential nature of 
the primary object of all their purfuits, to 
have ftill an efpecial refpeét to the appro- 
bation and the difapprobation of others, 
literary men learn to watch with unde- 
{cribable anxiety the judgement of the 
public—to become intoxicated with its ap- 
plaufe, and to confole themfelves for its 
neglect, only by imputing this to fome 
accidental untowardnefs of circumftances. 
How often do they, in imagination, anti- 
cipate the effe€ts of a few favourite verfes 
or paragraphs upon the readers! With 
what raptures are they apt to repeat the 
praifes which they have obtained! How | 
eagerly will they proffer to every vifitant 
the gratification of liftening to their fa- 
vourite effufions! To what a fancied ele- 
vation, greater than that of a Roman tri- 
-umph, are they exalted by any trantient 
32 fuccels ! 
