1810. 
Griginally border, point, &c. I have 
now explained another unknown term. 
Cathorpe is on the Watling Street, and 
lies at the proper distance from Benonis. 
Cau, or Cat, may imply a hill; and 
either may be synonymous with T72, in 
Tripontium. Thorp bas been proved 
to be a synonyme of Pont, the remainder 
of this term: Cauthorp, Catthorp, or 
Cathorp, may therefore be a translation 
of this station. 
Lastly. Benonis implies The great 
Head, or The Head Land; and if Is be 
not a dative ending, this part of the 
word may come from dis, a hill, and 
imply fort, or camp. This land I sup- 
pose to be in the parish of Copston, 
which is'a translation of Benon ; for it 
also implies the Top or Head Land. 
Claychester refers to the exact place of 
the station, as lying on the chff or side 
of the hull. 
At the place where the fosse crosses 
the Watling Street, there is erected a 
handsome obelisk, with a Latin inscrip- 
tion, purporting among other things, 
that the Venones here kept their quar- 
ters. We are, Mr. Editor, amused by 
the inscriptions of Sulloniacis and Be- 
nones, from the mistakes of ancient 
terms; but in history and description, 
we have misconceptions without number, 
arising from the same cause: we need 
not erect pillars to perpetuate these. 
Benon, or Venon, being a name for Head 
Land, and-this being one of the princi- 
pal, if not the chief, in the middle of 
the kingdom, the name was given from 
its features. I have now, sir, cleared 
the way, in part, for shorter explanations ; 
and at some future time will resume my 
labor, A. B. 
eae 
To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. 
SIR, : 
: HE Augustan age (as it 1s called) 
of English literature, produced so 
many writers of eminence, that those of 
a second rank were thrown into the 
shade, and are now prized less than they 
deserve. I was led to this reflection by 
perusing the poems of Fenton, who was 
Inghly esteemed by Pope, who wrote his 
epitaph, in which he calls him “ an ho- 
‘nest man;” of course, according to the) 
same poet, ‘ the noblest work of God,” 
The poet of whom [I am writing, 
stands higher in my estimation than 
‘many who are better known, and oftener 
‘read; and as [have no reason to suppose 
‘that I differ much in taste from other 
admirers of poetry, I may justly cone 
Montury Mag, No. 197. 
Character of Fenton’s Poetry, 234 
clude, that his beauties only require 
pointing out, to be duly appreciated 3 
this-is my motive for these observations. 
Add to this, I feel myself bound by gra- 
titude to an author who has given me 
so much pleasure, to attempt the rescue 
of his works from the neglect they have so 
unaccountably and undeservedly expe- 
rienced. , Sat 
Every one conversant with English 
poetry, knows the tameness and stupid. 
ity (so well ridiculed by Goldsmith in 
one of his Essays) which mark the com- 
positions called Pastoral Elegies. Fen~ 
ton’s Florelio 1s an admirable exception ; 
in beauty of imagery, richness of co- 
louring, and elegance of expression, it 1s 
far superior to any poem of the kind I 
ever read. His Epistles to Tambard 
and Southerne, possess that easy flow of 
chaste humour that should always dis- 
tinguish productions of that description, 
I shall pass over Fenton’s Tales, (only 
remarking that his ** Widow’s Will,” and 
“ Fair Mun,” are equal to the “Hans 
Carvel,”’ and ‘¢ Paglo Purganti,” of 
Prior, and his Tale in the manner of 
Chaucer, ‘superior to that by Pope,) and 
proceed to notice his odes, which, though 
few, are excellent; particularly ‘that to 
the Sun on New-year’s Day, the opening 
stanza of which is equal in graudeur to 
the commencement of any poem in the 
world. 
Begin, celestial source of ight, 
To gild the new-revolving sphere, 
And, from the pregnant womb of Night, 
Urge on to birth the infant year. 
Rich with auspicious lustre rise, 
Thou fairest regent of the skies, 
Conspicuous with thy silver bows 
To thee, a god, ’twas given by Jove 
To rule the radiant orbs above ; | 
To Gloriana, this below. 
And what can be more sublime than 
the passave (after celebrating the battle 
of Blenheim)? 
Britannia, wipe thy dusty brow, 
And put the Bourbon laurels on. 
Beautiful too as Gray’s Ode to Spring 
undoubtedly is, it has not a stanza equal - 
to the first of Fenton’s to Lord Gower, 
written in the same season. 
_ After having said all this, I may be 
told that my remarks are unnecessary ; 
for that Fenton’s worksare in every well- 
selected library. So, perhaps, are those 
of Welsted, Ward, and the other heroes 
of the Dunciad; but I would have the 
author Iam writing of quoted as others 
are, who are not his superiors in genius. 
2G I will 
