ore mentioned.

Other Visits.

I am also mindful of a very pleasant week spent long ago at Shenstone's
Leasowes, a beautiful estate near Birmingham, now being dug up for coal
even as Hamilton is, where in those days some good friends of mine
resided, of whom (now departed like so many others) I have most kindly
recollections. The hostess, a charming and intelligent lady of the old
school, wearing her own white ringlets, used to have many talks with me
about Emanuel Swedenborg, a half-inspired genius whom she much favoured;
the host, a genial county magnate, did his best to enable me to catch
trout where Shenstone used to sing about them, and tried to interest me
in farm improvements: but my chief memory of those days is this. Whilst
I was there, a splendid testimonial in silver arrived in a fly from
Birmingham, well guarded by a couple of police against possible roughs,
the result of a zealous gathering from his political supporters; and
that Testimonial, "little Testy" as I called it, was a source of care
and dilemma to everybody; for care, it was immediately locked away for
fear of burglars; and as to dilemma, the white elephant was too tall for
the centre of a table, and too short to stand upon the floor. It seemed
closely to illustrate to my mind that wise text about a man's life and
his possessions. The cheerful spirit of the mansion and its inmates
seemed quite subdued by this unwelcome acquisition. When at the
Leasowes, I produced some suitable poems which were very kindly
received: here is one of them, hitherto unprinted.

_An Impromptu Sonnet._

_Ticked of at the Leasowes, Aug. 24, 1857, as per order._

"And so you claim a verse of me, good friend,
As from the inspiration of the place;
Well then,--from pastoral trash may taste defend
Your pleasant Leasowes, and the human race!
The Gentle Shepherd's day has had an end,
Nor even could melodious Shenstone here
(False and inflated, we must all allow),
Excite one glowing thought or pensive tear
Unless indeed of wrath or pity now:
Yet dearly can I love these tumbling hills
With roughly wooded winding glens between,
Set with clear trout pools link'd by gurgling rills
And all so natural and calm and green,
That served to enervate your Poetaster
But only strengthen now their Iron Master."

I will also record a hospitable sojourn in old days at Northwood Park,
the