period of six years elapsed from the day of its foundation! The poet had said to those who rallied him on his building so late in life, "I build a house not to live in, but to die in. My doing so may appear, I confess, very strange to many; but I have felt so strong an impulse on my mind to it, that it seems to me almost like a command from Heaven."

He was very far from supposing, when he spoke thus of himself, that his own life would be extended beyond the much dearer and more promising life of his son. Providence, however, seems thus to have supplied him with a most useful and seasonable asylum for his afflicted age. He regarded it as a blessing, and endeavoured to shew a deep sense of its being so considered, by employing the quiet and leisure it afforded him, in the most zealous attempts to render affectionate justice to the memories of those who were most deservedly dear to him. But let us return to the youthful artist. As he regarded the ceremony of laying the foundation-stone of the turret as a memorable æra in his life, it shall terminate the fifth part of this biographical compilation. It may, however, be proper to include within this division of the present work, that little time which he now passed in Sussex, before he returned to the pursuit of his profession under his excellent master. The amiable youth having thus begun a building for the future residence of his father, employed his active spirit in a variety of projects for its gradual decoration. He modelled a minute and excellent resemblance of the pleasant little round man of art, on whom the poet had bestowed the title of his Palladio. The

architect and the painter left their young fellow traveller, for a longer visit to his favourite scene, and returned to London together, on Tuesday the 18th. On the following day, the Godfreys arrived at Eartham, a family to whom the young sculptor was tenderly attached, and for whom he was particularly interested at this time, as he entered with the most friendly zeal into the benevolent project of his father, for establishing this family at Eartham, for the purpose of educating the children of their noble friend and neighbour of Petworth. It appears from the Diary of Hayley, that his project had gradually unfolded itself to his sanguine fancy, with a fair prospect of success, which vanished on the sudden. The projector's account of it is contained in the following close of his Diary for April 1797.

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This month terminates with the demolition of a castle "in the air, that my heart and imagination had formed in "favour of my meritorious relation, Captain Godfrey. Yet I

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may applaud myself for having cherished the vision, without blaming any one for its melting into air. Had the vision been "realized, many unpleasant and some painful sensations might "have arisen unavoidably to all parties concerned, and Provi"dence has, I believe, graciously acted for our general good, "in forbidding the airy fabric to take a solid foundation.

"Bene est cui Deus obtulit

"Parcâ quod satis est manu."

The Godfreys were unable to extend their visit at Eartham

beyond a few days, on account of their engagements at Woolwich; but the young artist remained there about a fortnight after their departure, and employed himself both as a sculptor and as a painter. He began and finished a portrait in oil colours, not so large as life, with great fidelity and force of pencil, and he modelled a bust of his father. It was finished towards noon on Saturday the 6th of May, a morning frequently recalled to the memory of each by a circumstance too remarkable to be omitted here. Highly pleased with the completion of the bust, the artist and the poet hastened to refresh themselves with a social walk in their favourite part of the garden, gently ascending the hill to the south, because movement in that direction began to affect the lungs of the young sculptor, though perfectly free from every consumptive appearance. There was a large mass of sailing clouds in the sky towards the west, and one of them suddenly assumed a shape so wonderfully like the portrait of Michael Angelo, that both the old poet and the young sculptor exclaimed in the same instant, "There's an apparition of Michael Angelo!" The singular incident delighted them both, as a happy omen, and it gave rise to a sonnet, which will appear in the next series of letters from the father to his son.

Enchanted as the parent was at this period by the genius, the affection, and the social endearments of his child, he yet suffered a painful degree of anxiety, from an evident alteration in his son's power of supporting exercise. But he was comforted for a time, though deluded, by the mistaken opinion

of all his medical friends, who considered the little variation of health in the young artist, as a matter of no moment, and such as need not obstruct him at all in the pursuit of his profession. His excellent master was at all times most laudably solicitous that so promising a disciple should adhere closely to his settled plan of study; and to a principle so just, his father was ever ready to sacrifice his own personal gratification, by resigning the society of his dearest and most delightful companion.

On Sunday the 7th of May, as the weather was wet, he attended the returning artist in a chaise to the suburbs of Chichester. It was their custom to part, on these occasions, at the pillar that stands as a boundary to the city.

Here the anxious father once more bade the young adventurer adieu, and mounting his led horse, rode back to Eartham in a very gloomy evening, and, to borrow an expression from his Diary,

PART THE SIXTH.

"Tenor idem animo moresque modesti."

The young student returning to his art, was so perfectly sensible of his father's extreme anxiety for his welfare, that he dispatched a hasty billet on the evening of his arrival in London, and their correspondence proceeded with its usual tenderness.

σε Φίλτατε Φίλων,

"EARTHAM, May 8, 1797.

"As I well know how anxious your truly filial heart will "be to hear that I suffered not in my health, from a wet ride home, after the affecting moment of my bidding you

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farewell, I send you a more speedy account of myself than I promised. It will gratify you to be assured, that neither the "old Hermit, nor his older Sancho, appear to have contracted 66 any cold from the incessant shower, and a sharp northeasterly wind. Perhaps, when the heart is full, the frame is

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