IT is a very surprising and a cruel Thing, that you will not suppose me to have been out of Order, after such a Neglect of writing, as can hardly be excused on any other Score. I cannot, indeed, lay Claim to what the Doctors call an acute Disease: but Dizzi­ness of Head, and Depression of Spirits are at [Page 2] best no trivial Maladies, and great Discourage­ments to writing. There is a lethargic State of Mind that deserves your Pity, not your Anger; though it may require the Hellebore of sharp Reproof. Why then did you not apply this pungent Remedy, before the Disease was gone so far? But seriously, I pass too much of that Sort of Time, wherein I am neither well nor ill; and being unable to ex­press myself at large, am averse to do so by Halves. From the strange Laconicism of your Letter, I am really in Doubt, whether you are not angry at me; and yet had rather this were owing to Anger that may subside, than to any persevering Fondness you may have for such unusual Brevity. Should the latter become habitual, I shall see the Letters of a Genius dwindle to ‘" per first will advise the Needful."’ God forbid such a Transformation!

Your former Letter, to my great Confusion, was dated Sept. 18. Let me speak first to some few Parts of it—The Lampreys arrived safe, and were as good as I ever tasted; but every Time I tasted them, I wanted you; and you are mis­taken, [Page 3] if you imagine, I can half relish such Cates alone: however, I return you Thanks.

You gave me no Account how far the Bath Waters, &c. were judged expedient for you. A charitable Action called you up to Town; and you, in the Benevolence of your Heart, presume, that this accounts for the Neglect of every Advantage that concerned yourself. Pray let me know whether the Bath was proper for you at the same Time inform me, whe­ther you were able to serve Mrs. H—. I shall be sorry for you, as well as her, if you should miss the Gratification you would derive from the Success of such an Endeavour.

Were I rich, I would erect a Temple to Simplicity and Grace; or, as the latter Word would be equivocal, to Simplicity and Elegance. I am glad to hear that Mr. W— has under­taken to deify the former; as he will produce better Grounds for such a Consecration than was ever done by Pagans, or by Papists, on any such Occasion. By the Way, I take that God­dess to be a remarkable Friend to Ease and In­dolence. There is another well-deserving Per­sonage, [Page 4] Delicacy, whose Cause has been strange­ly deserted, by either Mr. MELMOTH, or Dr. LANCASTER.

Will it make better for me, or worse, to say, I've not yet written to Mr. GRAVES? But I will positively write, within this Week, if it cost me a Dose of Salts to clear my Brain. As to what he says about my printing im­mediately, he may be right, and I am sure he is friendly: but more of this in a little Time.

Since the Receipt of your last Letter, Mr. PERCY and his Wife came and spent a good Part of the Week here; and he, also, would needs write a Description of the Leasowes. Du­ring the latter Part of his Circuit, my Friend JAGO and I accompanied him; and what was produced on that Occasion, you will go near to know in a little Time. Mean while I am more and more convinced, that no Description of this Place can make any Figure in Print, unless some Strictures upon Gardening, and other Embellishments be superadded.

[Page 5]Mr. JAGO has been with me twice, having written a Poem in blank Verse, which he leaves here for my Revisal. 'Tis a descriptive Poem, called Edge-Hill, and admits an Account of the Battle fought there, together with many legendary Tales and Episodes.

About a Week ago, I paid a Visit of two or three Days, which I had long promised, to Lord FOLEY. His Table, for a Constancy, is the most magnificent of any I ever saw: eighteen or twenty elegant Dishes; a continual Succession of Company; his Behaviour, perfectly hospitable, and his Conversation really entertaining. I most readily own myself to have been under a Mistake, with Regard to his companionable Character. My Reception was as agreeable as it could possibly be. As to the rest, he has a most admirable House and Furniture; but without any Room or Utensil that would stand the Test of mo­dern Criticism. The Views around him, wild and great; and the Park capable of being rendered fine; twice as striking as it is at pre­sent, if he would fell some Oaks, under the Value of a Crown, and some Hawthorns, under [Page 6] the Value of a Half-penny: but 'tis possible, at his Time of Life, &c. nothing of this Sort will be undertaken. The two Things at present remarkable are, his Lodge and his Chapel. The Portico of the former, (designed by FLEET­CROFT) affords three different and striking Pro­spects. The Chapel is so very superb and ele­gant, that Mrs. GATAKER has nothing to do but send you and me thither, to say our Prayers in it. In reality, it is perfect Luxury; as I truly thought it, last Sunday Se'en-night; his Pew is a Room with an handsome Fire-place; the Ceiling carved, painted in Compartments, and the Remainder enriched with gilt Stucco-Ornaments; the Walls enriched in the same Manner; the best painted Windows I ever saw; the Monument to his Father, Mother, and Bro­thers, cost, he said, 2000 l. the middle Aisle rendered comfortable by Iron Stoves, in the Shape of Urns; the Organ perfectly neat, and good, in Proportion to its Size: and to this Chapel you are led through a Gallery of Pain­tings seventy Feet long—And what would you more? You'll say, a good Sermon—I really think his Parson is able to preach one.

[Page 7]And now I come, lastly, to speak of your Letter I received on Monday. What an uncommon Man you are! to take so much Thought for those, who never took any for themselves!—I have enquired after Mr. WEDDERBURNE, and it seems he is a very clever and a very rising Lawyer; to whom I am the more obliged for mentioning me, as I fear I have not the Honour of being the least known to him.

Pray write to me as soon as possible, and I will make you Amends (if Writing will make Amends) for the scandalous Omissions of which I have been guilty. I have somewhat to tell you of Lord L—'s usual great Kindness, when the Lords D— and W— were last at Hagley; but I have not Time, and must conclude, my dearest, worthiest Friend!

I DID indeed give you up for lost, as a Correspondent, and find by your Letter that I am to expect very few future ones. I will endeavour all I can, to avoid any Sus­picion of your Indifference for my own Satis­faction; but I don't know for certain, that I shall be able, unless you assist my Endeavours, like my good Genius, by a Course of suita­ble Epistles, at certain Distances. I myself correspond but very little now, so you will meet with the more Indulgence. I don't find by your Letter that you have much more Phi­losophy than me. I can't tell, indeed, what the Situation of your House is; I own, mine gives me Offence on no other Consideration, than that it does not receive a sufficient Num­ber of polite Friends, or that it is not fit to receive them, were they so disposed; I would [Page 9] else cultivate an Acquaintance with about three or four in my Neighbourhood, that are of a Degree of Elegance and Station superior to the common run. But I make it a certain Rule, ‘" Arcere profanum Vulgus". ^*’—Persons who will despise you for the Want of a good Set of Chairs, or an uncouth Fire-Shovel, at the same Time that they can't taste any Excel­lence in a Mind that overlooks those Things; or (to make a Conceit of this Sentiment) with whom 'tis in vain that your Mind is furnish­ed, if the Walls are naked; indeed, one loses much of one's Acquisitions in Virtue, by an Hour's Converse with such as judge of Merit by Money, &c. yet I am now and then im­pelled by the social Passion to sit half an Hour in my Kitchen.

I was all along an Admirer of Sir THOMAS HEAD's Humour and Wit, and I beg you will represent me in that Light, if Occasion happens. 'Tis not impossible that I may pe­netrate this Winter as far as your Neighbour­hood, connecting a Set of Visits which I have in my Eye. Tell Mr. WHISTLER, when you [Page 10] see him, that if he must have some Distem­per, I cannot but be pleased that it is one which is the Fore-runner of Longevity—Don't tell him so neither, for the Compliment is trite. From the Birmingham Gazette, ‘"We hear that on Thursday last was married, at Hales Owen, in Shropshire, Mr. J—, an eminent Gunsmith of this Town, to a Sister of the Right Hon. F— Lord D—."’ I was yester­day at the Grange, where his old Father, with a Number of People, were celebrating the Nup­tials of his Son; when in the Midst of his Feastings, high Jollity, and grand Alliance, the old Fellow bethought him of a Piece of Tim­ber in the Neighbourhood, that was converti­ble into good Gun-Stocks, and had some of it sent for into the Room, by Way of Speci­men. ‘" Animae nil magnae Laudis egentes!" ^*’

Pray is your Sister at Smelkwick? for I have not heard. You said you would give me your Picture, which I long earnestly for; could not you contrive to have it sent me directly? I am quite in your Debt, with Regard to downright Goods and Moveables, and what is the proper [Page 11] Subject of an Inventory; I will, however, en­deavour to be more upon a Par with you, with Regard to Presents, though I never can, with Regard to the Pleasures I have received from your Conversation.

I make People wonder at my Exploits in pulling down Walls, Hovels, Cow-Houses, &c. and my Place is not the same. I am, that is with Regard to you,

Mr. WHISTLER, and you, and I, and Sir T. HEAD, (whom I should name first, speaking after the Manner of Men) have just Variety enough, and not too much, in our Characters, to make an Interview, whenever it happens, entertaining—I mean, though we were not old Friends and Acquaintance.

THOUGH I have not yet troubled you with a Letter, I have not been void of all Enquiry, or Information concerning your Situation and Mr. HARDY's Health; indeed, it is now many Weeks since I collected some Particulars from your Brother, and I am now impatient for some further Intelligence. As to the Particulars of our friendly Reception at Wroxhall, Mr. JOHN JAGO has very probably acquainted you; he would, however, persuade me to give you a distinct Account; being as­sured, he says, it must be a good Subject for Drollery. I don't know how far this would be proper: but I think, when I write again to my Friend W—, to give him a Sketch of his own Character, just as it appeared du­ring the Time of our Visit. I do not mean to give Offence, so I shall intermix many [Page 13] good Parts of his Character, together with his Oddities. I believe the whole will take up a Sheet of Paper, for I have already consider­ed it. He has Good-Sense, and Good-Nature at the Bottom; pity he should disguise the former by one continued Air of Buffoonry, and the latter by a total Neglect of common De­corum.

Since I came home, I have done little else but plant Bushes, Hazel, Hawthorn, Crab-Tree, Elder, &c. together with some few flower­ing Shrubs that I have had given me. I think nothing remarkable has occurred; only one mi­serable tempestuous Day, I had the Earl of STAMFORD called to see my Walks, together with Mr. DOVEY, of Birmingham, and two other Gentlemen. My Lord promised to come again in Summer, and invited me to Enville. By the Way, he is now building a Gothic Green-House, by Mr. M—'s Direction; and by all Accounts, the Place is worth your seeing, when you come into this Country; 'tis but about six Miles distant from hence. Pray do not you embroil me with Mr. M—, in Regard to the Observations I made in his [Page 14] Walks. Remember there were not a few Things with which I was greatly delighted; and if there were a few that I less appeared to ad­mire, it was owing to a Consciousness, that I was amongst Friends only, and that I thought it foolish to regulate my Expressions by the same Rules of Complaisance, which I ought to observe in different Places. I say, ought, for he has been exceeding favourable to me, in his Representations of the Leasowes. I hope to see Mr. FANCOURT with you here this Spring, and why not your Brother? He can spend half a Week now and then at Wroxall. The Duke of S— was treated with Cruelty by his Fa­ther till he was sixty-five, and afterwards scarce survived him, to enjoy one Year's Profit of the Estate. Such is the Tenure by which we hold our earthly Tenements!

THIS is the first Evening I have had to myself since I left Cheltenham; and as one wants some very favourite Subject to en­gross one's Thoughts a little, after a long Dissipation, I could think of nothing more ef­fectual than a Letter to one who has so large a Share in them; beside, they have given me your Letter from Bradfield, and I am in Pain till I have acknowledged so affectionate and polite a Present. People, whose very Foibles are so many Elegancies, can scarce write any Thing more agreeable than a plain, unaf­fected Account of them. I remember, I used to think this a Kind of Distinction between Mr. GRAVES and you; that the one had the Knack of making his Virtues unenvied, and the other of rendering (what I perhaps unjustly termed) his Weaknesses enviable. I am al­most [Page 16] afraid of inserting this, lest it should seem to injure the superlative Esteem I have of you: but I must add, that I consider a Mixture of Weaknesses, and an ingenuous Con­fession of them, as the most engaging and so­ciable Part of any Character; if I did not, I could not allot them you, whose Manner is so distinguishedly amiable.

Since I left Cheltenham, I have been at Mr. B—'s, in Bishop's-Castle. I rode one Morning with him about three Miles, that I might say, I had been in Wales, and seen Brecon, Caderi­dis, and Plinlimmon, with an extensive Chain of other Mountains. I called at a small Ale­house, where the People lived all the Winter without any Glass in their Windows. I was wondering how they could live so, in a more cold Country than you have, perhaps, expe­rienced. The Wife said, ‘"True it was, she could like Glass very well."’ ‘"Yes,"’ says the Hus­band, ‘"Glass is very genteel, that it is."’ ‘"Nay,’ says the Wife, ‘"not for the Gentleelness nei­ther, though it is very genteel, that's the Truth on't."’ This Circumstance struck me a good deal, that they should discover the genteelness [Page 17] of Glazing, and never once think of its Ex­pediency. Mr. B— is a Man you would like upon Acquaintance, though, as I remember, you had some Objection to the Superfluity of his Wit. We shall, in all Probability, have frequent Interviews with him at Bath, London, &c. He would fain have seduced me to have travelled into Portugal, &c. with himself, and one Mr. MOORE, his Neighbour; an agreeable, modest Man, and late Member for Bishop's-Castle. I declined it for two Reasons; first, on Ac­count of the Expence, and secondly, that I could not think of spending two Years in this Part of my Life abroad; dead to one's own Coun­try, and procuring, at best, very perishable, and useless Friendships in another. If I could have staid, I was to have gone with him to a Welsh Sessions, fraught with Irascibility. He is a Justice of Peace there.

As to good Acquaintance, though I much desire it, I have as literally a Genius for avoid­ing, as any one ever had for procuring it. I cannot approach within fifty Yards of Servi­lity for fear of it.

[Page 18]I want sadly to talk to you about a thou­sand Things. I have some Notion of spend­ing a Week at Mr. D—'s. Act sublimely, and give me the Meeting then, notwithstand­ing.

Though I was enamoured with the Polite­ness of Mr. W—'s Conversation, I should not, perhaps, have been very forward to express my Sentiments, if you had not intimated, that he made favourable mention of me. I begin to grow a little pleased with Prudence, and I think it a Debt one owes her, to reserve one's Encomiums till one knows any one's mu­tual Sentiments; for certainly, he that happens to commend an Enemy, happens to condemn himself. I beg my Compliments.

I believe poor J. D— is alive—Farther I c [...]nnot learn.

I did not think it possible, I could have [...] so much engaged by love as I have been [...] [...]ate.—Poor Miss C—!

[Page 19]It must necessarily be an Honour to a Girl, to have pleased a Man of Sense, (I know not but I am vain in supposing myself of that Number) let his Station be how low soever. Now it must be a Disgraee to captivate a Fool, however high it be; the former is the strongest Evidence of Merit, the latter of the Want of it.

Now I talk of Vanity, I beseech you never check yourself in your Letters— I don't purpose it; and I think it makes as pretty a Figure in the Letters of a Man of Taste, as it does in the Embroidery of a Beau. I am as much yours, as human Nature will admit of.

WHEN I promised you some Poetry for Mr. S—, I am afraid that, through my Desire of recommending myself to his Family, my Tongue out-run my Wit. If I laid any Sort of Stress upon what I was to send, I am very sure it did so; and when you have read the Trifles enclosed, you will be of the same Opinion.

It is probable, however, that I had an Eye to a larger Ode of mine, upon the Subject of rural Elegance, which I have not now Time either to correct or to transcribe; but which I will not fail to communicate to them upon some future Occasion.

Or if my Promise regarded a Translation of the Mottos here, I shall have the best Oppor­tunity of performing it, when I take the Free­doms [Page 21] you have allowed me, with your po­lite Description of my Farm.

Am I wrong in detaining that Paper?—For positively, these last few Days I have found myself a good deal feverish, and my Head has been so much confused, that I was almost tempted to omit this Message. In this Case, I think your Good-nature would have acquitted me of Disrespect: but I could not suffer you to leave the Country with so bad an Opinion of my punctuality.

It remains, that I present my best Respects to Dr. TURTON and his Lady, and that I wish you an agreeable Journey to Oxford. I purpose, in a few Weeks, that you shall be enabled to say something more particular, in Regard to M—'s Poetry; in the mean Time, I desire that he would accept my Compliments, and my Thanks for the Pleasure his Verses have afforded me. Above all Things, assure Mr. ARNOLD of my most unfeigned Esteem; and if he discovers any Partiality for my Place or me, encourage it, that it may induce him, on a proper Occasion, to favour me once more [Page 22] with his Company. You see, I am availing myself of your Interest, to make all your Friends my own; and to attone for this Piece of Sel­fishness, it shall not be my Fault, if every Friend I have be not yours, at least, with some Share of that Regard with which I am,

I Received your agreeable Letter; read all the fine Things your (I fear prejudiced) Good-nature made you say; at first distrusted them: but when I reflected on the Person who said them, I found a strong Inclination rise in me to believe them; but how to be convinced I was still at a Loss; for I know it is in your Power, either to make Flattery pass for Sincerity, or Sincerity (so justly dreaded from [Page 23] the Unskilful) pleasing. But be it as it will, I shall be a Gainer by it; for if 'tis Flattery, it will give me a fair Reputation, though un­deserved, with all who hear it; but if 'tis true, it will assure me, I deserve one from all who can like you bestow one.

You enquired after Mr. D—. He, and his Lady, and Miss B—s, have drank Tea with me twice within this Fortnight. We went to Christ-Church Prayers together, from thence, arrayed in Gold and Silver, we rushed into St. John's-Chapel, where we stood, knelt and sate, (I won't say prayed) the whole Service-Time; for you know it is usual there for Strangers to sit in the Choir, which we did, to the great Advantage both of the Fan and the Snuff-Box, which were neither of them long unemployed, during Divine Service. You know they are great Helps to Devotion: Snuff cer­tainly composes, and a Fan may waft a Soul to Heaven before it is aware.

Mrs. L— still perseveres. She gave it out before she had seen her, that Miss B— was like a Cat, which when she found Miss B— [Page 24] had heard, she wrote a Letter to excuse her­self, and concluded most emphatically with these Words, ‘"No, Madam, I am not quite so unbred; it was not I, but Common-Fame, said you were like a Cat."’ I really think here, that Mrs. L— topt Mrs. L—'s Part. Mr. G— is still a Prude; I see him sometimes, but should be glad to see him of­tener. I know no one Circumstance, but Breach of Sincerity, that can ever be a Reason with me to slight my Friends. If a Friend of mine had broke all Laws, both human and divine, yet had conspicuously preserved his Integrity to me, I should only think myself the more obliged to him, and though I pitied him, would never forsake him first; I should think he had a higher Notion of Friendship, and that that was the only Tie which he dared not violate, for which Reason I would not dare to be a greater Villain than he. I don't know how this Thought came into my Head, but you see I was willing to spin it to its full Length; if I have gone too far, you must impute it to that Rapture of Friendship with which I am yours eternally,

Do write!

I HAVE waited thus long upon a dilatory Lawyer, called, I suppose, in Hebrew, Bel­zebub; at least, I am confident, Lawyer is but a synonimous Term for the Devil. I have stayed, and must stay, to sign some Parch­ments, which cannot be done without me; and his Delay has caused mine, in not answering your kind Letter before. I must likewise go to Winchester on the same Business, so that, to put you out of a disagreeable Expectation, I pluck up Resolution to tell you, I am afraid I cannot wait upon you this Summer; at once to resist your Kindness, and my own In­clination, in my Opinion, is a great Act of Resolution, at least would be so, if I had any Degree of Choice left me: but as it is, I think the enduring my Disappointment a great Trial of my Patience. Mr. GRAVES will witness the [Page 26] Truth of my Misfortune, who has been at Whitchurch lately, and who intended to see you soon. I suppose he told you his Errand into these Parts, a providential Thing for me, and one of the happiest Revolutions in my Life, if it succeed, as I hope it will. My Spirits are quite grown rusty, with long and fruitless Expectations of Happiness, and no Tools are fine enough to polish, or, as the Artists say, to touch them, but yourself or Mr. GRAVES. I knew nothing of his coming till I saw him, for which Reason I looked upon him as mi­raculous Manna or Food from Heaven.

I lament very much that you don't design to be in London next Winter: I shall be there for about six Weeks, towards the Middle of it. The Winter we met there, I thought a pleasant one, and enough to encourage a se­cond Meeting in the same Place—The only Place for Whims, practicable there without Re­proach, or falling from that Dignity which 'tis necessary for a Gentleman to maintain in the Country. I should like mightily to indulge my Fancy in some innocent, private, romantic [Page 27] Expeditions; I know not what—But all Things as I said, are possible there.

Mr. GRAVES tells me you are a great Oe­conomist. If so, I hope London will be the richer for it, and you the finer, as Luxury is the Daughter of Industry, and Industry again the Mother of Luxury, each reigning by Turns, and so the World goes on. If you should go to London this Winter, you'll call at Whitchurch by the Way, and we'll go together, which will prevent any Disappointment. You will always be received here, with Acknowledgment of the Favour you do us; so say we all, and present our Compliments in one Garland to you, which I beg you will accept, though it is but coarse­ly put together, and you will oblige

I Received your kind Letter, and, in Spite of all you have said, I must still think that the Obligation is entirely on my Side, and you have only, in my Opinion, laid a greater Stress upon it by so generously disclaiming it. I am resolved to be pleased with every Thing you say or do, and if I were not, you are resolved I shall. I am very glad you intend me a Visit; but am likewise very sorry, I must beg you to defer it for some Time; our Family talk of going to Bristol very soon, and as I have no where else to go, must go with them. If it was in my Power to defer the Journey, I would gladly do it, to wait on Mr. SHEN­STONE, at Whitchurch; or if I could com­mand the House in their Absence, their Ab­sence and his Presence would be to me a dou­ble Happiness. But as it is, I must, at present, [Page 29] be without a Pleasure, which I hope will not always thus fly from me; I hope the lat-End of this Summer, and Mr. SHENSTONE, will be both more favourable to me, and if so, I shall reckon that the Spring of the Year is yet to come; I, who place the Seasons en­tirely in my own Fancy.

I forgot to tell you in my last, that the Prin­cess AMELIA did us the Honour of a Visit at Whitchurch, though we were obliged to the Stag for it, who seemed to fly from the Ho­nour she designed him, and had not Ambition enough (as LEE says) to meet the Blow half Way, or be pleased with Death, though in the Royal Presence. It was a terrible Day, and the Princess was wet through; she had rode thirty Miles when I saw her, and she rode thirty Miles after that, which was six o'Clock at Night, in her wet Cloaths, and appeared at the Drawing-Room at St. James's, the next Day, which was a Birth-Day.

The Princess (with Submission be it spoke) gave me no Satisfaction, not through any De­ficiency in her Demeanour—but from the dis­satisfied [Page 30] State of Mind. I could be contented with nothing less than you; and I hope you will be so good, as not to let this Disappoint­ment, which I assure you is a great Disappoint­ment to me, be any Objection to my having the Pleasure of your Company another Time. With my Service, which waits on you, I am yours, as much as, I hope, you would have me, viz.

Excuse me, if I desire to be remembered to good Mrs. ARNOLD, whom I look upon to be an Example of the simple Force of mo­ral Beauty.

Sept. 9.

I HAVE not received your Letter above a Week ago, being but lately come to Town, which is the true Reason why I have not an­swered it. Few Reasons, and none but good ones shall ever prevent me from presenting my Heart to you: but my Journey hither has been prevented, partly by ill Health, and partly by little, ill-natured, impertinent Accidents—This Suspense had had an equal Effect on my writing to you. I here end my most sincere Apology.

Now for News—I am in London; for which Reason, I suppose I must not be excused; tho' I hate it, remember very little, and am most likely to blunder in the Recital of that little. The House of Commons have addressed the King to try MATTHEWS and LESTOCK, and six Captains, by a Court-Martial, and it is [Page 32] thought, some of them will be condemned.—Poor GARRICK has been dangerously ill of a Fever this Week: but now, to my great Sa­tisfaction, there are Hopes of his Recovery; nay, it is noticed in the Daily Advertiser, that he will perform a Part next Wednesday Night.

I have been to wait on Lord D—. He was very civil, and would fain have kept me till he had opened his Heart with a Bottle of Wine; at least, I imagined his forwarding the Bottle was with that Design; but I was engaged. I am to call upon him to go to Ranelagh—a Lord would be a pretty Nosegay in one's Hand, if he had the least Variety of Colours; nay, if he resembled any one Flower of a single Co­lour, except the Fustus. Mr. F— I see some­times, but he is not very attractive. I always did envy you the Power of Laughing at a Fool by yourself: but you are a World within yourself. Mr. P—K, I spent an Evening with lately very agreeably: but he lives so far off, at the Court-End of the Town, as separates us very much. Mr. P—N I often see, and find him a very useful Person. But if you were here, both agreeable and useful would [Page 33] vanish, and a far superior Enjoyment take Place. Mr. GRAVES promised to be in London for a Week, but his little Politics are, you know, very uncertain. I have struck a bold Stroke since I have been in Town; I mean a laced Coat, for really Waistcoats cost as much, and are no Mark of Distinction after all. Sir T. HEAD comes to Town this Week; but I believe, I shall not stay above a Week longer, so would have you direct to me at Whitchurch. I design to go to Court one Night. I must, as you see, write short, my Paper drawing to an End. It is with Pleasure I hear, that old People confess a Play is now worth seeing, and that GARRICK excels BETTERTON, &c. In the Diversity of his Genius, he must far exceed him; when we see him alternately in a Rich­ard and Scrub, in a Lear, and Abel Drugger, he is truly astonishing. This Excellence of our dramatic Representations is another Reason to wish you here. CAMPIONI is a charming new Dancer. The Messiah was performed last Night, but I could not go.—But I must write no more Tattle. I have just been with Mr. SHUGBO­ROUGH, and gave him your Orders about the Pamphlets, and have picked out some myself, [Page 34] viz. the Odes, the new Play, and the Poem on Sickness.

I wish there had been any better Prints to have enclosed in this Letter; I should have been glad to have sent them. The Pamphlets I have ordered to be sent immediately, directed to be left at Mr. AUDLEY's, in Birmingham. The Regret I always feel for your Absence will ever instruct me how to value you, that is beyond what the elaborate Conclusion of a Letter can express; therefore I will not endea­vour to say how much, but in an unlimited Manner be fond to remain

I have no gilt Paper at Hand, which is a Fault; pray excuse it. Mr. PEMBERTON is with me, and begs his Service.

I Generally write to you, because I want to hear from you; but having lately wrote to you, I now write because I want to see you. In short the Case is this: I shall be at Oxford in about three Weeks Time, or sooner, and I have Reason to think it will be the last Time I shall be there, I mean in my Gown. Now as I am willing still to retain an agree­able Image of the Place where I have spent so many happy Hours, I make this Request, that you would stamp the last Impression upon my Mind. I beg you would meet me there, and give me the Confirmation of your Friend­ship, which I shall esteem a greater Honour than all the Degrees the formal Convocation can bestow; and I think of you, as JUBA does of CATO, and declare, I would rather have your Praise, than Worlds for my Ad­mirers. [Page 36] I have forgot the Measure, but this is directly my Sentiment.

I lately wrote you a long Letter, as you were so kind to desire; and in so very lazy unintellectual a Manner, that I am sure half the Mortals, who only understand with their Eyes and by the Grammar, could never have comprehended: but I would converse with you Soul to Soul, have a Hint understood by you, and not be obliged to a tedious Pe­riod to communicate a Thought to you; I would have my Soul stand naked before you, and shiver at the least Breath of Kindness your most distant Meaning shall breathe on it—

This I am sure your quick Apprehension is capable of; and by a Desire of the strictest Union with you, I am fond to believe as well of myself. You see I am proposing every Scheme which may unite you more closely to me, therefore I beg you will not refuse me the Request I made at the Beginning of my [Page 37] Letter. I will say no more now, but when I am with you, design to talk away as you shall inspire. In the mean Time, I boast, that it is the most sagacious Instinct which pushes me on to subscribe myself

AS Hope is the chief Spring of all our Actions, and as Pleasure is the sole Ob­ject of that Hope, you must not wonder if the Stile of this Letter appears more languid than usual. How quickly is the Transition of­ten made from Hope to Despair! But a little [Page 38] While, and I thought I already saw you; and now I am presently fallen into the Despera­tion of I know not when. The Small-Pox, which generally frightens away every Thing that's agreeable, has made it impossible for me to see you as yet—The last Sentence seems a Compliment to myself; but as I am too lazy to alter it, I beg you would think with me, and interpret every Thing I say in your own Favour. But thus the Devil will have it; the Small-Pox is all over Oxford, in every Part of the Town, in most of the Colleges to my Knowledge, and is lately broke out in Pembroke. If it had not been for this last Ar­ticle, I could gladly have confined myself within the Compass of those Walls with you; but as it is, I am forced, like good Men, to submit for a While to human Miseries, and comfort myself with the Thought of my Hea­ven, though at a Distance; like them too, I have this Satisfaction, that in the mean Time neither the base Moth, or Rust of the World, can corrupt that Part of you in which my Pleasure is situated.

[Page 39]I have a very bad Piece of News to tell you; Mr. G— lies dangerously ill at London of a Fever: I am informed his Life is despair­ed of—I am now in the utmost Concern at it. This Letter is a mere Medley: disagreeable to myself, I don't propose it to be agreeable to you. I only wrote it, to tell you what you must know, and if you can understand it, it is very well. I am not only in the lowest Spirits, but they are also very much confused. I will not now moralize; but this I am sure, we shall both dearly miss Mr. G—. When I hear more, you shall know more. It is now one o'Clock in the Morning, and, as I told you, I wrote this out of Necessity. I cannot be in Oxford, though I long to see you. If poor Mr. G— should die, pray be still more kind to me. I am sure, I shall then find a Vacancy in my Breast, which you alone can fill up to my Satisfaction.

Pray write.

[Page 40]I received a Letter from you just after I sent you my last, and my Thoughs are at present too confused to answer your last parti­cularly, nor, indeed, will my Time allow it. Only I heartily thank you for it.

Whitchurch, near Reading, Berks.

YOUR last kind Letter has for a long Time upbraided me with Negligence, Ingrati­tude and Stupidity. To the last Part of the Accusation, I plead guilty; for I think I never found myself more stupid than I have been for this Month past, and what I write now, proceeds, not from any Flow of Fancy, but merely from Respect and Esteem. I have [Page 41] been very much taken up of late, by our Fa­mily being at Home: but that Excuse I lay no Stress upon; for I shall never let any, ei­ther Business or Pleasure hurry you from my Thoughts. Ill Health can be my only just Apology; and though I cannot say I have been sick, I can assure you, I have not been well for some Time past. Put my Condition in the best Light, I am very much in the Va­pours, and so much, as that you or Mr. GRAVES alone can cure me: a Letter from you will go a great deal towards it; though I long for one, I can hardly go on with this Letter, which is the Means to procure it; like one sinking into a fainting Fit, who can't collect Strength of Mind or Body, to reach so much as the Hartshorn to his Nose, which stands at his Elbow. I shall be at Oxford in a short Time, and spend as many Days there as I can pass agreeably, and then take my Leave of it. If the Town be healthy, I shall go to London the Beginning of the Winter, and stay there just as long as it smiles on me. But all Things seem to frown in the Absence of my Friends, and I wish I don't think the Smiles of the Town impertinent without them. [Page 42] I wish I could be sometimes pleased with less than you, without I could have you always. Pray write soon, and raise my Spirits, for I really am forced now to conclude for Want of them,

Service to Mr. D—. I sincerely hope he is well.

IF you remember, in your last Letter but one, you advised me to read History: ac­cordingly, as I am always proud to follow your Advice, I pitched upon BURNET's History [Page 43] of his own Times. I was over Head and Ears engaged in the Disputes between Cavaliers, Pro­testers, Resolutioners, and God knows who, when I received your last. Though BURNET values himself particularly on private Intelli­gence, I had a greater Curiosity, and enter­tained far greater Hopes of Pleasure, in break­ing open your Letter; nor was I at all de­ceived: I think you wrote, if possible, more agreeably than usual; it raised my Spirits, and at the same Time did more than all King CHARLES's Statesmen could do: set up an ab­solute Monarchy in my Breast in a Moment, and made you Sovereign there.

Mr. POWYS had a Child christened yester­day; it was attended to Church by half a Dozen Coaches. The great Mr. POINTZ was one of the Godfathers, and Mrs. TOWNSHEND, now an Inhabitant of your Parts, the God­mother, by Proxy. Mrs. POWYS went out on Pleasure to the last, and if her Horses had not been good, and her Coachman dexterous to ply them with the Whip, she had been brought to Bed in her Coach, as once before she had like to have been at the Play-House.

As to what you mentioned about your Poem; you can't think me such a Barbarian, as that I should expect you should follow my Advice in every Particular; I rather think you did me an Honour in doing it at all. I know the great Critics have been long endeavouring to be ab­solute; but I think it very unreasonable even in them—and I believe you, as well as my­self, have too much Spirit to submit to it. If I can any Ways assist you, by any little Observations, you shall have my Thoughts, and make use of them at your Pleasure, for I am very fond of that Rule, of doing as one would be done by.—Little Miss L— out-does TOM TINSELL's Widow.

If the Town is not vastly unhealthy indeed, (for I must not regard little Discouragements, [Page 45] as my Affairs are at present) I shall spend most Part of the next Winter at London. You are very friendly, to propose to me the most agreeable Scheme in the World: but I can't possibly see the Leasowes this Summer. I be­lieve it is you, not Mrs. ARNOLD, who have all the Wit of your Country; and if all Things naturally attract there alike, in that Re­spect you will prove a very dangerous Neigh­bour. I long to see you as much as you can do to see me: but all I can do now, is to tell you so, and that I am, by Honour, Friendship, and every other Obligation,

I Received you Pacquet, fraught with every Thing that could delight me. I believe more Wit was never conveyed under the Title of a Peer before; not even excepting your own, which, indeed, you generally export by wholesale in the same Method. Your Letter led me through an Elysian Scene, which de­lighted me so, that I must beg Leave to take another Turn with you at present therein. There is no Subject I can treat of with so much Pleasure, and, of Consequence, with so much Advantage to myself. In the first Place, Dick J—, in the Point of Light you set him, diverts me; yet Humanity teaches me to feel a Kind of Pity, as for an Animal that sings and hops about the Cage that has just de­prived him of his Liberty. Lady LUXBOROUGH I have seen, but not in her Sanctuary, where [Page 47] she delivers her Oracles, and displays her Elo­quence and Elegancies at full. This is what my Soul is a-thirst after; the holy Land of a future Pilgrimage. You have raised a Devotion in me towards her; for we always judge of the Divinity by the Merits of the Priest. By your Description of Mr. THOMSON, I admire him, and rejoice in your Acquaintance with him. I beg you would cultivate it, for it seems like the Dawning of your Fame, whose Merit the stupid World only wants to be awakened to see. If ever you get your due Share of Fame, I insist that you be not a Niggard of it, as many are, but do your ut­most Endeavour to communicate it to your Friends—You see I speak in Time.

As for Mr. L—N's Civility, I have no great Faith in it; I fear he has only some private End to serve, as an Election or so: but, how­ever, I would have you nourish it, for it may breed something by Chance—It will be a Cre­dit to you at worst—Chance often promotes Lingerers at Court, who have otherwise very little Hope. It may fall out, that by serving [Page 48] you, he may serve himself. I should like to have seen Signor OUTING, poor Man.

I think the Leasowes a charming Place in itself; but not knowing how in my Imagina­tion at any Time to separate the Work from the Architect, I believe I give the former infinitely more Adoration than its due, even with all its Improvements. You would often see me gliding across the Glades, if the Soul was visible. You, indeed, have contrived to make your Soul, as it were, visible; and a very beautiful Soul it is; particularly in its last Dress, which became it exceedingly, I mean Elegy—It was mighty well fancied, and dif­fused a tender, languishing Air, its highest Cha­racter: I am much indebted to it for this splen­did Visit; spendid I mean in Beauty. The two old Songs likewise were very agreeable to me: but chiefly Giles Collins. As for the Song of the Cat, I am much obliged to you for it: but I think the Author sunk quite beneath himself towards the End. The Conclusion was too sudden, and not worked up enough, and besides was exceeding dirty; however, it was improved by your Alterations: upon the whole, I [Page 49] like it, and out of my Devotion for the five first Stanzas, I have added six more, which I submit to your Judgment, whether I have supported the true Spirit of the Fragment. Pray excuse that I have presumed to omit any of your Alterations; because I thought in this new Scheme the Context required it.

I live in Hopes of seeing you at Whitchurch this Winter, and of hearing the happy Tidings when; I beg you will let me know some Time before you come, that I may get your Bed in order; I have but one; (it was given me, and is none of the largest; indeed, small, which at present I lament) otherwise I should now give more Invitations; I can entertain but one Friend at a Time: but all my Friends will be sincerely welcome severally. Again I say, I lament the Unsociableness of this Scheme, but it is not in my Power to alter it. Mr. G—'s Affair goes on, I am afraid, unhappi­ly. As for my own Situation, I shall say lit­tle, but leave you to take a Survey of it, which I hope you will do soon. I think it is cal­culated for Happiness, if a Person of the least Delicatesse can be so. I rejoice in all you have [Page 50] rejoiced in, and pray for all you pray for, as becomes

Pray write.

My Idea of Miss FLETCHERS is, that they are easy without Impertinence; a high Idea in my Opinion. Pray give my Compliments to Lord D—, if in the Country.

I AM very much obliged to you for your last kind Letter, and received your Absolution with a very contrite Heart, though I assure you my Sin was not wilful; however, it was such as [Page 51] I sincerely lamented, even in the Commission; I should rather say Omission. I am exceeding sorry to find you have so great a Quarrel with London. I speak sincerely, when I say, I pro­pose little Pleasure there without you. I said in my last Letter, we might contrive to meet there, as hitherto; I think we have contrived not to do it, and if we were to meet, I can't but fancy we might make it agreeable to each other. I shall go thither immediately after Christmas, and should be glad to wait on you at Whitchurch, and from thence to London. You certainly conclude me happy, in having Mr. GRAVES so near me, and with Reason. I should think my Scheme of Friendship com­plete, if you was as near; but without that Cir­cumstance, it is far from being so. Sir T. HEAD and Mr. GRAVES spent three Days with me last Week to my great Satisfaction.

I have had a Swelling in my Foot, which they tell me is the Gout—God forbid!—but 'tis certainly like it. I intend to go into a Milk Diet immediately, for I am terribly alarmed. If it should prove so, I shall think it a very hard Fate, having been no Drinker, and even [Page 52] Multitudes of those escape it: but Fortune fa­vours the Brutes.

It was not our Mr. POWYS's Landau, for he was at Home, and besides has never a one. I believe Mr. GRAVES and I shall return Sir G—'s Favour soon, and spend about a Week with him. How shall we all wish for you to be with us! That I shall, I can be upon my Bible Oath; and for the rest, I think I can answer in the affirmative. My Brother is at Whitchurch at present, who is a constant Com­panion to me while he stays, but I fear that will not be long: but Mr. GRAVES I design to see often, both for Health and Pleasure.

What with going to London this Win­ter, and Bristol in the Summer, as I have laid my Scheme for the future, I shall make Whitchurch not quite so tedious to me; and above all, the Thought of waiting upon you, both in Oxfordshire, and at the Leasowes, vastly brightens my future Prospect. My Father and Mother desire to join with me in all Civilities to you—But I beg you would believe I sur­pass most People (notwithstanding your appa­rent [Page 53] Merit) in the extreme Regard I have for you, when I subscribe myself,

My Duty to Lord D—. I wish his Lord­ship would favour me with some Franks. I should look upon it as an Honour, and a Piece of Good-nature. A Frank, you know, would convey them.

I HAVE been extremely busy of late in new modelling my little Habitation; and the more so, to bring it to some Kind of Perfec­tion, in Order to receive you. I have been building up, pulling down, planting, rooting up, turning Round to Square, and Square to Round. In short, I don't know, but some [Page 54] prudent People would say, I have been playing the Devil. Indeed, (as in other Things in Life) my Fancy is so confined by the Smallness of my Possessions, that my Scheme is not very expensive: 'tis all in the Lilliputian Stile, and must be so. Though I have tried to give it what Air of Magnificence it is capable of, I suppose it will strut like many of those un­fortunate Heroes who happen not to be four Feet and a Half high.

Did Lady LUXBOROUGH approve my Senti­ment of enjoying Things best by Reflection? I still maintain my Opinion, and endeavour to jus­tify it thus: What we enjoy by Reflection we have pure, nay, heightened by our own Fancy, at the same Time no Inconvenience attends it; on the contrary, the Pleasure is more poignant by the Contrast. The Thought of an Ice-House in the Summer is refreshing, and the Imagination of July is a Cordial in Frost and Snow; besides, you well know Hope is the very Hartshorn of Life, that enlivens every Thing, and particularly attends imaginary Pleasures, but vanishes whenever they become real—By Reflection, I mean Imagination in general.

[Page 55]I have sent you Stanzas on Flowers. If Lady LUXBOROUGH likes them, I shall be proud of hitting the Pallate of a Lady of so high a Taste. I have likewise enclosed another Copy of Verses—though I am in Doubt, whether I did not send them to you last Summer; they were done then. I know you don't love Transla­tions, but I have nothing new besides. I set about them merely as an Exercise one Night, when I was dull and alone, not intending any Thing but tearing them afterwards, for I knew it was a worn-out Subject—But a fatherly Af­fection took Place, and I did not care for mur­dering it, though it was a Bastard produced unawares.

N. B. I beg that nothing of mine may ap­pear in Print.

I admire those two Lines of Lady WORTLEY's very much. It is a natural yet uncommon and agreeable Thought. I am pleased with the Com­pliment you make me, in saying you always wish me with you to partake any Pleasure, and imagine how any Thing extraordinary would [Page 56] strike me: I like it, because I know it is a natural, and thereby, a sincere Thought by my own Heart. I am so far gone that Way, that I can hardly enjoy any Thing extraordinary, without my Friends are with me, especially those whom I know it would particularly strike: but next to gratifying a Friend, is the obser­ving, how new and extraordinary Objects work upon a natural Genius; I'll suppose it a Ge­nius; I think it is one of the highest Enter­tainments in Life; when I can meet with such, and have an Opportunity, I love to read a Play to them, though I know I run the Ha­zard of being laughed at for my Pains; but I don't care, the Pleasure pays me for all the malicious foolish People can say, and you know the natural Criticisms of Sir ROGER DE COVER­LEY were not thought unworthy the Notice of the British Spectator. For my Part, I have of­ten thought that it is one of the Amusements of the Supreme Being, who planted first the Passions in us, to observe the Workings and Effects of them. A public Audience gives me Pleasure upon Trust, for though I know no one there, I always conclude there are some Geniusses.

[Page 57]I am of your Opinion, with Regard to Mrs. —, at present, for I think, if her Heart be really engaged, which I very much doubt, Dishonour in Love is the blackest of all dishonest Actions, and of the worst Conse­quence—But his precursive Steps were the Ex­tremity of Folly, conducted with the Extremity of Folly; but he may be happy (and I wish he may be happy) in any State of Life. I think our Visits to DICK J— are fatal; his own Mother lay a dying when we were at Henley. I am very glad to hear you have had so many Amusements. It is always agree­able to me, whenever I hear you have met with a flowery Meadow in your sublunary Walk. If I have any Taste, your Hercules is an elegant and truly poetical Poem, and su­perior to L—'s: if it is not, I resign my Taste, for I'll pin it upon your Poem. I don't pretend to Criticism; but my Passion for SHAKESPEARE, MILTON, POPE, &c. has made me believe, that I have some natural Taste for Beauty. I am much obliged to you for the two genteel Copies of Verses; they are very pretty, and much to my Fancy. As for Odes, [Page 58] you have expressed my Sense of them all on that of Dr. AKENSIDE; they perplex and fret one more than they please, and may be de­scribed by the Title of one of SHAKESPEARE's Plays, viz. Much Ado about Nothing.

I have no News to send you from hence, that will be in the least entertaining to you. I am in Hopes Mr. GRAVES will settle at Whitchurch about Whitsuntide. I have been much out of Order for this Week, by a Cold that I caught in attending my Works; and my Foot gives me ugly Apprehensions at pre­sent. I continually please myself with the Thoughts of seeing you at Whitchurch; but would never have you make an Inconvenience of what I would have be a Pleasure to you—I'd have you choose your own Time, that you may be quite unembarrassed: for my Part, I think the sooner the better; only I would beg the Favour of one Line to prevent all ill Ac­cidents. I think 'tis a Method which should ever be used; and I wonder at my own Im­prudence, and my own Good Fortune last Time I came to the Leasowes. I long to see you, and shall be all this Summer at Whit­church, [Page 59] ready to receive you. Indeed, if I should have the Gout, as I something fear it, I would let you know, for that would inter­rupt all our Pleasure. I beg my Compliments to Mr. DOLMAN: you have likewise the Com­pliments of this Place. With Wishes to see you, and Compliments grounded upon the ut­most Sincerity, I am,

YOU see that I am as eager to answer your Letter as you was to answer mine, and if my Letter gave you Pain, I assure you, that yours has equally perplexed me. I am [Page 60] in great Hopes, you have misinterpreted my Sense, in Regard to Mr. G—; and by as much as I can recollect, I believe you have. He always speaks of you with the utmost Re­spect in your Absence, and is much less severe even upon what he calls your little Faults, than when you are present: all that I hinted at, was some little Shyness he lately shewed to me, on the Account which you and I have often mentioned. I have heard you say, you have experienced the same from him on the like Score. But you could not possibly be now included, being absent; no, I assure you, I only spoke of myself; and his Fault towards me would have been imperceptible, but to the Delicacy of Friendship; nor been have worth communicating, but to one whom my Love would animate against the like Failing. I de­clare to you, the Sentence which included Mr. G—'s Name, was the only one which regarded him; what followed, though I confess that gave Rise to it, was only to shew my different Sentiments, and I own my Esteem for Friend­ship carried me a great Length. I have been very particular to satisfy you, as well as to justify Mr. G—, and by that Means to jus­tify [Page 61] myself. I should have never have for­given myself, if I had been the Cause, though inadvertently, of dividing so much Worth as I have always discovered in you both, and which though separated, it might still continue to bless me, yet when united, like most other Things, it has a more powerful Effect. I would not have Mr. G— know a Word of this, for the most trifling Reflection, when told again, is offensive; nor should I have said what I did, but to a common Friend; in Truth, it is not every-body who possibly might feel it so acutely as myself; but you know my Disposition. I have a Sensibility in my Friendships, that arises even to a Soreness, and the slightest Air of Coolness makes me wince. This, though in its Consequences sometimes it may render me unpleasing to my Intimates, certainly has its Source in a Merit, namely, in the Ardour of my Attachments; and therefore I should hope is easily pardonable. You remember the ele­gant Line in COTTON's beautiful Vision of Friendship; ‘"Cold is the only Ill they fear."’

[Page 62]After I had sealed my last, I was afraid it had rather an Air of Compliment than Since­rity; if it had, I assure you, it was only the Air, and what the Good-humour, I am always in when I write to you, might inspire me with. You see the Esteem I have for you, by turn­ing Critic on myself in your Behalf. I am now going to mention, what there is no Occa­sion at all to say, but Friendship is the most incontinent Thing in the World; I have long been sensible of your Worth; that is, ever since I knew you; but I must say, I think it was our last Meeting which entirely united me to you; every Letter of yours since has heigh­tened my Affection for you. I look upon this as my first Absence from you; your Letters are now necessary to supply your Presence; you yourself taught me this Taste of Luxury, therefore it is but reasonable you should sup­port the Expence. In short, I beg you would write soon. I am afraid I shall tire you by so frequent a Correspondence, but I particu­larly long to know the Success of this Letter.

I Fancy I've been condemned a Thousand Times, on Account of not sending the Tunes. One of them was lent out, and I had not an Opportunity of fetching it till last Week. I don't know whether this Reason will prove sufficient, but I assure you it was the real one. I tore them out of my Book, and on that Account you have some others with them. I was willing you should have them in the best Shape possible, and dare say, you'll improve as much upon them, as I have dege­nerated from them.

I want exceedingly to hear from you; but you will scarce think it consistent with a rural Reputation to write yourself. 'Tis, indeed, scarce worth while to hazard it, to give me [Page 64] ever so great a Pleasure, but I could wish you would here remember the Character of a Town-Lady.—Lord! How does Miss UTY? I did not wonder you should mutually envy each other, since you are both so great Objects of Envy: more particularly, as Modesty has taught you to think your own Merit small in Com­parison with that of others. Voilà la seule Source de toute Envie!—I'm surely vastly impertinent, for I'm not positive you understand French: but I guess'd that a Lady, so accomplished in all other Particulars, might. I fancy you've en­joy'd a vast deal of agreeable Gaiety since I left you, whilst I have been wandering about Harborough's gloomy Walks and Pools, like a Shepherd ‘"despairing beside a clear Stream."’—Oh! I want to know, whether or no, for the common Good of our Society in particu­lar, as of our Country in general, it is, and may be lawful to admit, without the usual Number of Members being present at the So­lemnity; for I judge it better to lay aside some Part of the Ceremony, than that any one should die uninitiated—Whether or no as in Baptism—I was truly going too far.—I am [Page 65] safe enough, let me go what Lengths I will, in subscribing myself

I Promised to give you some Account what became of Cheltenham, after Mr. A— had pillaged it of all that was most valuable. Pos­sibly before this Time, you may have forgot both my Promise and me, and it may not be extremely political to renew your Remem­brance of a Person who has been so long seem­ingly neglectful. The Truth is, I can no more bear to be forgot by those I esteem, than I [Page 66] can be censured of Forgetfulness with Regard to them, and I know no Way but Writing, by which I can evade both.

Some Sort of Apology I ought to make, that I did not write before; you will there­fore please to observe, that I am but just ar­rived at Home, though I left Cheltenham the Day after you. I stayed, indeed, to hear Mr. B— preach a Morning Sermon; for which I find Mrs. C— has allotted him the Hat, pre­ferably to Mr. C—. Perhaps you may not remember, nor did I hear till very lately, that there is a Hat given annually at Cheltenham, for the Use of the best foreign Preacher, of which the Disposal is assigned to Mrs. C—, to her and her Heirs for ever. I remember (tho' I knew nothing of this whilst I was upon the Place) I used to be a little misdeemful, that all who preached there had some such Premium in their Eye. This Hat, 'tis true, is not quite so valuable as that of a Cardinal, but while it is made a Retribution for Ex­cellence in so (if properly considered) sublime a Function, it is an Object for a Preacher in any Degree. I am sorry, at the same Time, [Page 67] to say, that as a common Hat, merely for its Uses, it would be an Object to too many Coun­try Curates, whose Situations and slender In­comes too often excite our Blushes, as well as Compassion. There should be no such Thing as a Journeyman Parson; it is beneath the Dignity of the Profession. If we had fewer Pluralities in the Church, this Indecorum might, in a great Measure, be abolished.

Mr. N— ( Squire N—) I hear is fitting up his Castle at L— for the Reception of the little Widow; and the Mercer at Cheltenham has completed his grand Arcade, for the better Dis­position of his Crapes and Callimancos.

I am an ill Relater of Matters of Fact, and as I said before, did not continue above four and twenty Hours and some odd Minutes upon the Place longer than you that enquire after it: but I survived long enough to hear very frequent Mention of Mrs. A—, Miss CARTER, &c. and such Mention, as has con­firmed me in an Opinion, that Persons of real Merit, without any Expence of Airs, &c. will by Degrees engross the Admiration of any Place [Page 68] they come into. But this is a Kind of Lan­guage you would never indulge me in; you might very securely; for I should never be able to express half the sincere Esteem and Respect with which I am,

PERHAPS you may remember to have seen an odd Kind of Fellow when you were at Cheltenham, who threatened you with a Let­ter, and who is now endeavouring to be as bad as his Word; however he hopes for some lit­tle [Page 69] Partiality on his Behalf, having delayed the Execution of his Menaces for a consider­able Time, and even now promising to say as few Things in your Favour as the real Sen­timents of his Heart will admit of.

But Peace to Buffoonery.—After I part­ed from you, Mr. M—N, with great Simplicity, endeavoured to keep up my Spirits, by speak­ing in Praise of the Family we had left, as though that was not the ready Method to aggravate the Sense of one's Loss; and yet to aggravate it was utterly impossible in the Opi­nion of a Person already so sensible of it. But he mentioned one Article which was more suc­cessful, and that was a Proposal to accom­pany me to Stoke, and to let me know when it suited his Convenience.

When I came to Cheltenham, I was not un­mindful of that solemn Vow that I had made, not to survive your Family there a single Hour: but I found it near five o'Clock, and my Con­science said, that as I had made it so late, by my Attendance upon you, though I did stay another Night, I hoped I might be excused.

[Page 70]I have been, since leaving this Town, at Mr. BROWN's, who lives upon the Borders of Wales.—Poor Man! He has been the most obliging Person in the World to the most stu­pid of Companions. 'Tis hardly possible to determine which was greater, the Zeal with which he shewed me his Fossils, Plants, Poe­try, &c. or the stupid Inattention with which I observed them. He commends you and Mrs. AUBREY highly; so, indeed, do all I know, or I would soon forget that I had ever seen their Faces. He had found out a Method at last of seducing me to talk, by frequent Men­tion of your Merits, and it was a good While before I discovered his Artifice; and even when I had discovered it, I was ill able to elude the Force of it.

I am now just returned Home, which is my Apology for not writing to you about Chel­tenham as I promised. I really scarce recollect any Circumstance belonging to it, except that you and Mrs. AUBREY were there the most fa­vourable, agreeable, and praise-worthy.

[Page 71]What, does Mr. M— boast of the glorious Absurdity he committed at parting, in mis­taking my Horse for his? When I see him next, I will produce a Hundred I have been lately guilty of, to no one of which his is able to compare. His, you know, commenced in the very Moment of parting, and consequent­ly was little wonderful, in Comparison of those I have since committed; besides, his Horse had a Spot or two of Brown on him, and was therefore easily mistaken at such a Time for one that was Sorrel all over.

After all, you are a very wicked Lady—you defrauded me of the Croslet you promised me, putting me off with a single Bead; but it was yours, and that's enough. The most trivial Donation from a Person we esteem, has a large Value. I acknowledge to have a great Penchant for what the Vulgar call Keep-Sakes. The French are notably practised in these little Elegancies; we are not so much so, as, I think, a polished People ought to be.

Don't expose the Nonsense-Verses I gave you, I entreat you.

I WAS some Time since at Mr. WHISTLER's Chamber, when he received a Letter from you, the Sight of which revived in my Mind the pleasing Correspondence you once favour­ed me with; the Loss of which I much re­gret.—Do you never think of returning to Oxford? Have you left nothing there that may give us Leave once more to expect you? I won't be so poetically complaisant, as to say every Thing appears grieved at your Ab­sence, but I assure you, Sir, there are some that seem sincerely to lament it. I can't com­pare those little People that have sometimes [Page 73] censured you, to any Thing but Ants, who are generally most troublesome in the finest Season. I can't hope, that even a short Stay at C— could be made agreeable, but Novel­ty is sometimes pleasing; descend then, and see the new Acquaintance I have made, which is like to prove a very lasting one: may yours be no less so!—Mr. GRAVES is in Gloucestershire, and Mr. WHISTLER, God knows where, and you unkindly conceal from me the Place of your Residence. I shall direct this wandering Epis­tle as usual, but imagine, if it is so fortunate as to find you, it will be in your Hermitage, where I presume you are before this retired. Were I Mr. WHISTLER, with what Pleasure should I leave the World, and all its Vanities, for Mr. SHENSTONE and a Cell—Though I must own, your Intention of making Mr. L—N im­mortal, by a Dedication, and singing the Praises and Virtues of the Court, seem to cherish gayer Thoughts than suit that peaceful Station. Whether Hermit or Courtier, be assured that whatever conduces to your Happiness is sin­cerely wished by me

I CAN omit no Opportunity of shewing my Desire of continuing a Correspondence that has always given me so much Pleasure. I wrote you a Letter some Time ago, and should have used so little Ceremony, as to have troubled you with another, had I known in what Part of the World you was. If you know any Thing of Mr. G—, I should be glad to hear something of him; I am informed that he is a Curate in some Village very remote—It is a great Pity, so much Merit should be no better rewarded. We have been returned from London about three Weeks: if I had known you were in Town, I should have left it with much more Reluctance. If you come into Oxfordshire this Summer, I hope you will fa­vour me with a Visit at C—, which will be a very great Pleasure to us all.

[Page 75]You cannot imagine how happy you have made me, in giving me Hopes of enjoying a Sight of your Poems; from which I am sure of reaping a Pleasure which can admit of no Addition, but by receiving them from your own Hands. I am glad to hear that Mr. G— is settled so much to his Satisfaction: if he is at All Souls, I hope I shall see him be­fore he leaves Oxford.

I have lately lost a very agreeable Relation and sincere Friend. Perhaps you have heard Mr. WHISTLER mention Miss B—: she died at C— about three Months since, after a short Illness of two Days; which added so much to the melancholy Situation here, that we were obliged to fly to Town for Amuse­ments. I came down ten Days since, and shall return again to-morrow, for about a Week longer. May I hope, dear Sir, to find a Let­ter here from you? I am sure the reading of it will give me more real Pleasure than any Company or Diversion I can propose to find in London. I am sorry to send you any News that will give you Concern; but can't help [Page 76] telling you, that I hear poor Mr. R. G— is dangerously ill of a Fever in Town. Mr. WHISTLER has left Oxford, on Account of the Small-Pox, which is very much there, and at present in Pembroke College.

Notwithstanding this unseasonable Weather, I must beg leave to put you in Mind of your Promise, and enquire when it is you design us the Pleasure of your Company in Oxford­shire; where you will meet with a great many who will rejoice much to see you, and none more than your

FOR the Soul's Food, strengthened by the more substantial bodily Food, I have for these nine Days past imbibed at your Villa, the Leasowes, I am much obliged to my dear Mr. SHENSTONE: Time will not, however, at present, allow me to bestow more of my Elo­quence on you for it; you must therefore be satisfied with ‘"the Altar of Gratitude,"’ I have it in my Head hereafter to erect to your Ho­nour.

We are invited to stay at Hagley on Monday next—Dinner at two o'Clock—May I expect the Pleasure of meeting you there? If you have had a Card let me know, per Bearer, that I may not, as I do now, groan with Apprehen­sions of the Day. His most excellent of Ex­cellencies, the Governor, and Mistress HESTER, stay till the latter End of September, so you [Page 78] will certainly be honoured with them at the Leasowes.

My best, and I think I may say, my only dear Lord, Lord D—, was here on Friday last, with Intent to dine and spend the Day; but as I was from Home, went to Hagley, and dined with the Lord LYTTELTON, at the wor­thy Admiral SMITH's.

Oblige me with desiring DODSLEY to bid his Brother send me the Annual Registers, bound, as we agreed on this Morning, and lettered, when he sends me The World, &c.

Did I not know you above even the least Degree of Policy to your Friends, I should suspect, that you sent me Lady LUXBOROUGH's Letters to intimate to me, what so dull a Cor­respondent, and insipid a Friend as myself, must expect, when you could bear Accusations of Negligence, in answering such agreeable and sprightly Letters, as those of her Ladyship; and I could almost wish, though the Perusal of them gave me the greatest Pleasure, that you had not favoured me with a Sight of them; [Page 79] as I cannot help drawing Omens from them to myself the most dreadful: if you did not then mean me ill, in your obliging Compli­ment of the Sight of them, let me see or hear from you soon; and tell me, that though you have heretofore slighted a Lady's Favours, you will not neglect a sincere Friend, who admires and esteems you more than (from what I think I have heard you say of her Ladyship) she could. But to wave this, and leave you to your own Generosity; I must thank you for yours of March 26th; had I not depended on your Promise in it, I should have again trou­bled you e'er this: but I must now tell you, that I hope the Week after Easter Week, for the Pleasure of your Company here, and if con­venient, to take a Bed with us. In the Ho­lidays, I apprehend we shall have Holiday Company, which will be neither agreeable to you nor us; as we shall not by such Interrup­tion be able to pay the Attention we ought, and are ever desirous of paying to so agreeable a Friend as Mr. SHENSTONE.

I like the Binding of your MILTON much; but not to compliment, dislike the Cuts as [Page 80] much, for I really think the Engraver has made our first Parents frightful Figures, and the An­gels and Devils almost equally lovely—Could you get mine bound as yours, without the Cuts, should be much obliged to you.

I have retired from Company, we have in the House, to write this Scrawl; this, I hope, will be an Excuse for it, and convince you, that I am resolved never to lose any Opportunity of assuring dear Mr. SHENSTONE, that I am

Have taken the Liberty of keeping Lady LUXBOROUGH's Letters some Time longer for Mrs. B—'s Perusal; who joins with all here in best Compliments to the Leasowes.

Wednesday Evening.

I should be glad if you could procure me half a Ream of Mr. BASKERVILLE's best plain thin writing Paper; I mean gilt, but not bor­dered.

I MAKE no Doubt, but you will be much surprised at the Receipt of this, and like wise greatly concerned at the melancholy Oc­casion of it. As the Friendship subsisting between you and my Brother has been of so long standing, I should be glad to communi­cate its Contents to you more gently by some other Hand; but for Want of a Friend in your Neighbourhood, who has the Honour of your Acquaintance, must do it myself in the least affecting Manner I am capable.

[Page 82]The Beginning of this Month, my Brother was taken ill of a sore Throat, which con­tinued for some Days, without any apparent Symptoms of Danger; indeed, towards the last it was judged the Disorder was throwing it­self off: but to the great Surprise of every one, a Mortification in his Inside was then be­gun, and came on so fast, that it was out of the Power of Art, to stop it, of which he ex­pired the 10th. In April, I had the Pleasure of his Company at Bristol for a few Days, with my Father, when amongst other agreeable Schemes for this Summer's Amusement, he proposed to himself very great Pleasure, from paying Mr. SHENSTONE a Visit—But Man proposes and God disposes. I have lost a very good kind Brother; therefore hope those who were his Friends will continue their Friendship to me for his Sake, which I shall always endeavour to deserve. To give you this melancholy In­formation is a painful Duty; but it is what I am compelled to pay. I can, in some Mea­sure, conceive the many afflicting Recollections which will arise in your humane Mind, on this Event! Your Friendship and Correspondence [Page 83] subsisted a considerable Time, and with recipro­cal Satisfaction. He was unquestionably en­dowed with natural good Sense, well improved by Education and Reading, of a lively plea­sing Fancy, and a benevolent Heart. He was, in short, what your Pen might most exquisitely describe, but what mine is unequal to.

I beg your Acceptance of a Ring, in Re­membrance of him, which shall be conveyed to Birmingham the first Opportunity. My Fa­ther desires his Service. My Wife likewise joins with me in Compliments. I am, Sir,

I Should with Pleasure have obeyed your kind Command, and troubled you with a Let­ter before this, but that I waited to give you some Account of your Friends here. I saw Mr. DODSLEY soon after I came to Town; he seems a very good Sort of Man, and I like him much; I believe he is quite satisfied with the Success of his Play, for he is in good Health and Spirits. ^* Mr. WREN I could not meet with, till Friday last, when I found him very busy with half a Dozen young Ana­tomists, (for such I presume they were) and Pen, Ink, and a Ream of Paper before them; had I been free enough with your Friend, I should certainly have enquired, what weighty Discoveries they had been engaged in, for they all looked prodigious wise when I entered the Room; but I was soon left Tête-à-Tête with [Page 85] Mr. W—, and then Subjects of still greater Importance, such as Plays, Operas, &c. &c. were to be discussed. Without a Compliment, I think our Friend improves upon Acquain­tance much; but I wish him, as you tell him, less volatile: to say the Truth, when you brought him to W— with K—, he was so very alert, that I was not (but that he came with you) much prejudiced in his Favour; however, I find he has more Merit than those over-lively young Gentlemen gene­rally have; and I doubt not, but when you have pruned the Luxuriancy of his Sprightli­ness, he will make a very good Figure.

I am sincerely sorry, my Congratulations on your having a Place under Government were premature; but I cannot say, I wish you, as your Friend GRIFFITH terms it, Polaury, though I know it could not have the Effect on you, it so evidently has had on —: but what any one could think due to CIBBER's Merit, Mr. SHENSTONE ought to think beneath him.

I have not the Book you enquired for in yours, nor any one that I can recollect, from [Page 86] you. The Letters you were so good as to send me, are safe locked up in my Bureau, and shall be returned when we meet; I took the Liberty of keeping them, as I had no Opportunity of sending to the Leasowes before I set out for London: if you have any Com­mands here, I hope you will oblige me with them, and when you are at Leisure, let me hear from you: but DODSLEY tells me, you are re-perusing your Elegies, (he hopes for the Press) and I would not interrupt you from such Engagements for the World, as you have too long deprived the Learned and Tasteful the Pleasure of admiring them.

The Hurry of London to a Man who pur­poses spending but seven Weeks in it, will, I hope, plead excuse for this Scrawl.

Sunday, Jan. 21.

I Can't but think you wrong, my dear SHEN­STONE, though placed, as you seem to think now,

you, who have in your Mind such an inex­haustible Fund of Amusement, refined Amuse­ment, in envying so inferior an Animal as your Friend A. B—, whose chief Happiness, even in London, ought (I shrewdly suspect) to be that he can call you, and one more worthy Man, (you know who I mean) his Friends. The Pleasures of London, I think I may say, the innocent ones, lose much of their Power to please, unless participated with those who have refined Sense enough to enjoy and partake those delicate Feelings with a Friend—few such are ever to be found here, and without such, where's the Society? Dissipation, my Friend, is the ge­neral [Page 88] or chief Amusement of this Town, to the Generality of People; and though it abounds with Amusements and Pleasures truly rational, yet by a too frequent, if not cor­rupted Use, these very Pleasures become irra­tional; such they are to the Generality of my Acquaintance, and though I hope I do not pre­tend to be wiser than they, yet I cannot feel a Pleasure in going with them to Entertain­ments of the noblest Kind, where I must not attend, but join with them in endeavouring to draw off the Attention of others, to my Com­panion or self; for this Reason then, I gene­rally go to a Play, &c. by myself, and by this very Means, lose much of the Pleasure I should otherwise receive from it. I wish, ‘"with all my Heart,"’ as the true Englishman's Phrase is, that you could, with Convenience to your­self, come to Town; but I will not pity you, who can so well divert yourself in any Place, because you cannot come. Let Wretches un­blessed with a Mind rich as yours, with a Sen­sibility capable of receiving Delight, from every common Occurrence, be sincerely pitied, pitied without the ungenerous Contempt, that you in­timate is so generally its Attendant: but be you, [Page 89] my Friend, the Envy of all who are meanly capable of so low a Passion, and the Admi­ration of every honestly-distinguishing Heart. Your Mind, my Friend, is rightly formed for true Happiness; be yourself, and be happy—but I grow impertinently officious; could you look into my Heart, such Officiousness would, from your Good-nature, meet with the Pardon I think I might say it deserves; for that I am so, is that I can with the greatest Since­rity subscribe myself

Excuse this Scrawl; and if a great deal of Nonsense, excuse that too, for I have not Time to peruse it, the Post-Bell now ringing.

I purpose leaving London, Monday Se'en-night; oblige me with a Line in Answer to this before I set out, if you can conveniently.

TO answer your kind Letter as I wish is not in my Power; let it suffice then, to remind you, that where the Heart really feels most, Silence is the only Eloquence she can use.

Why will you not agree with me in the Want I complained of? Had I not felt it, I should not have troubled you with it. What Answer can you make, when I tell you, that my choicest Friend, Lord D—, from a Ten­derness of Sentiment, never frequents the Amuse­ments you and I admire, and think innocent ones? Find me another Friend like him ca­pable of delicately feeling, and participating every rational Pleasure, (yourself excepted) to be the Companion I wished for, and I'll grant your Plea of ‘"Indecision;"’ till you can do that, come over to my Side of the Question.

[Page 91]As to Affairs in Town, I will not utter a Syllable concerning them till I see you here; only I must tell you, that London daily walks nearer Mary-le-Bone than you or I could have believed so corpulent a Lady able to do.

The Ramblers and World I read this last Sum­mer, and was much entertained with both, tho' I think the former greatly the Superior; and had I not thought it Presumption in me to recommend any Author to you, I perhaps might, in worse Language, have urged your reading them, as you have so kindly mine.

I have sent your Pencils per Bearer; but must beg to keep La Pompadour some Time longer, as I have not quite done with her; nor, indeed, is it fit so great a Lady should travel but in a Carriage; come and fetch her then in your Chaise, or we shall be reckoned greater Boors, by the polite Countrymen, than we al­ready are.—Adieu; be Happiness ever yours!

All here join in best Compliments to the Leasowes.

March 7.

P. S. The underwritten Quotation from THOMSON struck Mr. B— so strongly as he passed by the Leasowes some Time ago, that he hopes Mr. SHENSTONE will excuse his trou­bling him with it.

YOU make me very happy, by the kind Turn you give to the unfashionable Re­serve I told you in my last I labour under. I am sincerely desirous of being dear to you; and if the ‘" eadem velle atque eadem nolle"’ is a good Omen of a lasting Friendship, I have good Reasons to hope, that the Names of W. SHENSTONE and A. B— will ever be mu­tually esteemed by each other; for without meaning a Compliment, but to my own Judg­ment, I really think, to know what you like or dislike, some few Persons excepted, is suf­ficient to make me do the same: but I beg for the future, when you mention the Valua­bles London robs the Country of, at this Sea­son, you will not immediately add, that Lord P— is just set out from N— on his Way here.

[Page 94] A-propos! You tell me you are busy in re­gulating your Library; will not you laugh at me, if I draw a Comparison, and tell you that I am engaged at present in a similar Affair? Regulating the Friends I henceforward design admitting into my Heart's inmost Recess. You, I dare say, even in your Library have admit­ted some Rubbish, you will now throw out; how much then must I, who from a very Child have been a Kind of Enthusiast in Friendship, have to cleanse from my Esteem? Indeed, I find upon Examination, I have been much out in my Collection, and have ranked many fuga­cious Pamphlets, as JOHNSON calls them, as First­rate Authors; but I shall make a total Rum­mage, and hope, for the future, my Taste will be more refined; indeed, I do not fear it, for I have chosen your Worship sole Librarian of the Place; and to say the Truth, I find you so delicate a Gentleman, that you have routed every other living Soul, (my own nearest Relations excepted) nor can I find that you will admit any one else to enter the poor Cell you have the Charge of but Lord D—: well, well, you are quite right; I shall have enough [Page 95] to do to value you two as I ought; you two shall be my Study, and if I don't improve enough from reading you, it will be my Fault: for the Pamphlets, I shall dip into them oc­casionally, at an idle Hour, unless a female one demands my closer Application; but I promise you, I shall be very cautious in my Choice of her.

I am much obliged to you, for offering to introduce me to the Acquaintance of Dr. G—. I should eagerly lay hold of the Favour, but that I purpose leaving London on Monday the 26th of this Month, and shall not have Time to pay him the Attention I owe every Friend of Mr. SHENSTONE's.

I have from your Recommendation read the History of La Pompadour, and like it very well; it seems authentic, though not much to the Honour of the Dame or Louis le Grand.

I shall expect two Letters from your Wor­ship, in answer to my last Nonsense and this, and pray, good Sir, do be not so very concise. Mr. SHENSTONE, believe me, is worse Com­pany [Page 96] than any Man, when he is silent; most People know how agreeable every Word he says is, and when he is pleased to be mute, cannot but be uneasy. According to this, you'll say, your Friend wishes you to kill yourself with talking; not so—but he refers the Whole to your better Judgment, who knows best (when your modest Humility does not too much in­terfere) how to do every Thing with the best Grace.

If you have by you your Ode on Autumn, or Damon's Bower, and care to trust them by the Bearer, you will do me a great Favour in sending them. If you can venture out of your agreeable Shell at the Leasowes, and (provided you are preparing your Elegies for the Press) will bring them with you, not letting the Fa­vour you do us delay the Pleasure you will give the polite World in publishing them, we shall think ourselves happy in accommodating you with a warm Room, Pen, Ink and Paper, in this Part of the World.

I return the Duchess of SOMERSET's Letters, which I have perused with great Pleasure, par­ticularly [Page 97] those which give the Honour due to my Friend, Mr. SHENSTONE.

You have the joint good Wishes of our present contracted Fire-Side.

THE Compliment you make me, of desi­ring me to correct, abridge, &c. &c. the Sheets you have so obligingly sent me, puts me so much in Mind of MOLIERE's reading his Plays to his old Woman, before he produced them [Page 98] to the Stage, that I can hardly persuade my­self, though I am but just turned twenty-seven, and have a good Pair of Mr. DEHENNIC's fa­vourite Lambskin Breeches on, that I am not of the other Sex, and at least seventy: as such I have presumed to give you my Opinion freely, (which you will find first interspersed on little Bits of Paper, among your Proof-Sheets) and I desire you will not esteem it in any other Light. I am vain enough of the Friendship you have distinguished me with, and I desire you will not let your kind Partiality make me more unworthy of it than I am, by adding to my Vanity. As a Poet I admire, and as a Friend I love you: but you must not ap­ply to me, for what I am not able, with any Credit to myself, to oblige you in. I am glad you sent DODSLEY's fourth Volume, as I parted with my Set of his Poems this Sum­mer to a Friend, who begged them of me. Am much obliged to you, for the Print of your Grove, and though I think it makes not near the Figure on Paper so lovely a Scene would be imagined to do, shall value it much.

[Page 99]I ought to make many Apologies for keep­ing the Books you were so kind as to lend me, so long; but in such Estimation do I hold every Thing that comes from the Lea­sowes, that a common Attention to it will not satisfy me, and I cannot readily part with it in haste; this then must excuse me to you, and I flatter myself it will, as I know you are my Friend.

Adieu, dear Mr. SHENSTONE. The sooner you favour us with your Company, the more you will oblige us all.

I Am very sorry you have been so much in­disposed since I left you. Bleeding, Vo­miting, Purging, the Doctor, and the Disease, are too many Enemies for a Man to strug­gle with at once; and I heartily wish you Joy of your Victory against such apparent Odds. I am sure, I have very little Reason to sup­pose, you make Sickness a Plea for Laziness, since you have taken infinitely more Pains on my Account, than you seem disposed to take on your own. Pray think of this, and learn to love yourself as well as you do your Friends; pay as much Regard to your own Fame as you do to theirs, and the World will be obliged to you.

I received a Letter from Mr. EAVES; he tells me, the Fables are finished, and that they [Page 101] will come up to Town this Week. I shall be very glad of it; for I find even then, that I shall not be able to publish before February. You tell me the Portrait is only delayed till you can see ALCOCK—Can it be delayed to a more uncertain Time? You do not imagine how many Friends are longing to see it; and here the Winter is passing away, and I am losing the Pleasure of obliging your Friends as well as my own. I hope I shall see Mr. H— when he comes to Town. I expect Mr. D— soon after New-Year's Day—Would to God you would come with him! Now is your Time to make Interest for Preferment, as Me­rit seems, at present, the best Recommendation to Favour. Come, and give the Ministry an Opportunity of doing themselves Credit. With the Compliments of the Season, and my best Wishes in all Seasons, I conclude, and am,

HOPING by this Time you are in a fair Way of Recovery, I venture to write to you. Indeed, I was extremely alarmed by the Account Dr. ASH gave me of you in his first Letter, and also by a Line from Miss H—: but by a second Letter from the Doctor, and by a Note afterwards from Mr. BASKERVILLE, I received some Hopes of your Recovery, tho' not enough to encourage me to write to your­self, for fear of the worst. I have been ex­tremely uneasy indeed, and still continue so. Pray let MOLLY, or somebody, give me a Line, to satisfy me how you are. Don't offer to write yourself, if it be the least uneasy to you: I will be satisfied with hearing from any Hand that you are better, and when you are able to write yourself, I shall be happy. Lord S— is come to Town, and in a Day or two I pur­pose to wait on him. I have not yet seen [Page 103] Sir H. E—: I think I had better see Lord S— first. God preserve you, and send you a speedy Recovery.

I AM sorry I hurried my Essay out of your Hands, before you had done with it; but if I think of publishing my Fables next Oc­tober or November, it is high Time I should put both to Press now, that the Printer may have good Weather to print in, and that the Work may have Time to dry, after it is finish­ed, before the Books are bound. But as it [Page 104] happens, I cannot begin till the latter End of this Month, as the Printer is not at Leisure; however, I have put my Plates in Hand, and they are going on as fast as possible. I never received Mr. ALCOCK's Drawings; so I have got two others executed, of somewhat a dif­ferent Design. I will not put the Essay in Hand till the last, which may, perhaps, be about July, as I shall be very desirous of its having the Advantage of your Corrections. But am I not to hope for a new Fable or two from you? You see how I dwindle in my Expectations: but pray don't let me be quite disappointed. I propose, if possible, to finish the Printing of my Fables before I set out on my northern Expedition. Mr. M—, and his Lady, will be at Nottingham about the latter End of August; they have wished I would meet them there, and in their Return to Town, bring them round by the Leasowes. Mr. BURKE ^* has also a strong Inclination to meet us there; so that possibly we may be happy enough to spend a Day with you; another must be spent at Lord LYTTELTON's, (as they are both ac­quainted [Page 105] with him) and a third at Birmingham. I shall hate the Name of D— as long as I live: he is crooked in all his Ways; but the Devil will set strait with him one Day or other. I have not seen a Page of Mr. PERCY's Novel, and therefore cannot at all explain it to you; but I suppose he makes no Secret of it. I wish Mr. GRAVES would finish his.—And will you really consent to an Exchange of Pictures? Upon my Word, you make but a sorry Bar­gain for yourself: however, to give you as little Reason as may be to regret your Com­pliance, I will sit to one of our best Artists; and to supply the Want of Merit in the Ori­ginal, will endeavour to give as much as I can to the Copy. If you have any Thing to suggest on this Subject, (as you seem to hint) you will be so good as to let me have a Line, because, as soon as I am able to get abroad, which I hope will be in a few Days, I in­tend to consult with REYNOLDS ^* about it. Ay, I forgot to tell you, that I have been con­fined this Month with the Gout; every Man has his D—N; that is mine. I am glad your [Page 106] Likeness is a strong one; and I think the Attitude, you are drawn in, is a good one: pray, is that the Picture you intend for me? The Writer of Tristram Shandy is a Mr. STERNE, one of the Prebendaries of York. As to Mr. BASKERVILLE's Bible, he will easily be dissuaded from the marginal Ornaments; but the Title-Page is a Favourite, and for my Part, I have not much Objection to it. Mr. WEBB's Book, on Painting and Painters, is reckoned ingenious, and if you like the Subject, will be worth your Perusal. Antient and Modern Rome, I also think a good Poem. My Compliments to Mr. HYLTON, and all Friends.

I WAS yesterday searching for Figures for your two Niches—I have found three Pair, the Figures good, that will do as to Size, viz. the ANTINOUS I mentioned, and the APOLLO with his Arm over his Head; a FLORA and a CERES; and a HOMER and VIRGIL. The ANTINOUS and APOLLO are two Feet high, FLORA and CERES twenty-three Inches, and HOMER and VIRGIL twenty-one. These last are each of them leaning upon a Pedestal; on one of which, in Basso Relievo, is Troy in Flames; on the other, ROMULUS and REMUS sucking a Wolf. These are both pretty Fi­gures; and don't you think them better Or­naments for a Library, and more suitable Com­panions for SAPPHO, than either of the others? A Line by the Return of the Post, will just give me Time to get which of them you choose [Page 108] finished, and sent to you, before I set off for Nottingham, for I find I must go thither be­fore I come to the Leasowes; but I shall stay only a few Days. I had a Letter from my Friend Mr. M—, by the last Post, who is at Nottingham, and I find him wavering in his Resolutions, about coming by the Leasowes. I am glad you like my Design for the Picture: and how agreeably you have contrived to flat­ter me about it! But say what you will, I shall have a Picture of Mr. SHENSTONE; you will have one only of DODSLEY; and a SHEN­STONE by ALCOCK, will certainly be more valuable than a DODSLEY even by REYNOLDS. I read to him that Part of your Letter which related to him; he desires his Compliments, and would be glad, if you came to Town, that you sate to him. I hope I shall be able to send the Picture to you, before I set out on my Journey; but it is not yet finished.

HOW much am I obliged to you for the Pains you have taken in translating LA MOTTE's Discourse on Fable! and though I fancy you will find, upon comparing the two, that I have made a good Deal of Use of it, I shall be very glad to have more of it in­terwoven, if you shall think I have not suffi­ciently extracted the Essence of it. I must must own, my Pride (or call it my Folly, if you please) would rather choose to prefix some­what of my own on that Subject, than servilely adopt the Thoughts of a Frenchman, though I acknowledge them to be very ingenious. Be­sides, I have had the Hardiness to differ with him in some Respects, which makes it still more improper to take his whole Discourse. Proceed, therefore, if you please, in correcting my Essay; and interweave with it as much [Page 110] more of LA MOTTE as you may think pro­per. If you defer this till I come down, which I wish you would not, pray in the mean Time think of half a Dozen new Fables, that we may not have too much to embarrass us when together. My Face is quite finished, and I believe very like. I fancy I shall send it, together with the Figures, on Monday Se'en­night; but I shall not be able to set out myself till Monday Fortnight, and staying a Week or ten Days at Nottingham and Mansfield, will detain me from the Leasowes till the latter End of next Month. If the Picture should be turned yellowish, by being packed up, Mr. REYNOLDS advises, that it be set in the Sun for two Hours, which will quite recover it. Why did you leave the Choice of your two Figures to me? How could you put me un­der such a Difficulty? If I have done wrong, you will suffer for it; and say what you will, I have not sufficient Firmness of Taste to di­rect me right; besides, I do not exactly re­member the Niches: it is therefore your Fault to trust me; and if I have erred, your Duty to forgive me. I have ordered the HOMER and VIRGIL to be bronzed: they are very pretty [Page 111] Figures; and if you have, as you say, no other Objection to them, but the Want of two or three Inches more of Height, I hope some Means may be found to obviate so small a Deficiency. I should not, however, have ven­tured to send them, but that you seemed, at last, to acquiesce in their being sent. I think, however, I have been somewhat happy in my Urns; and I am not without Hopes, that you will approve the whole Cargo. The Folio-VIRGIL will come in the same Package. I feel myself very happy in the Thoughts of seeing you soon, and will hasten the Day as much as is in my Power. I hope Mr. BAS­KERVILLE will be quite ready for me; I shall send him the Paper in a Fortnight. I am

YOUR Picture really affords me many plea­sing Reflections, and I have ordered the Frame to be full gilt, whilst I am out of Town, that it may not give you any unplea­sing ones. I am going to Derby and Not­tingham for three Weeks or a Month: I can't stay longer, as I must attend to the Press, having put my Fables in Hand for a new Edition. I have last Monday sent you PERCY's Novel; I sent it unbound, as we had not Time to bind it: it will not be published till the Beginning of next Winter. I have sent you the Fables, bound in Morocco, and the com­mon Edition in Boards, for your future Cor­rections: but I would not have you begin till you see the next Edition, as I hope you will find it altered somewhat for the better; I will send you one of them as soon as it is printed. [Page 113] You will find, likewise, in the Parcel, SOAME JENNYNS's Works, and a Pamphlet or two; also the Fables, with your Drawings in them, many of which I like extremely; that at the Head of the second I approve the least: but those that are placed in the Life, I think should be transferred to the Head and Tail-Pieces of the Fables—but there will be Time enough to talk of this hereafter. As to Ita­lics, I believe I shall steer a middle Course, and make Use only of a few. I send you a List of some Statues, about the same Size with that Pair you have;

• DEMOSTHENES and CICERO,
• LOCKE and NEWTON,
• CHAUCER and SPENCER,
• SHAKESPEARE and MILTON.

When you have fixed upon which Pair you will have, you will let me know whether you will have them white or bronzed, and what Kind of a Bronze.

I really don't know how to appease Mr. W—. I told him, I was very sorry I had pretended to meddle with his Ode, and begged [Page 114] his Pardon. He is still unappeased, writes me another angry Letter, and desires me to give him my Reasons for every Alteration; this it is impossible for me to do, as I have forgot how it originally was; and I really think it of very little Consequence, as no Name ap­pears to it.

Mr. STUART is just now with me, and de­sires his Compliments. He thinks of seeing your Place the latter End of the Summer, and believes the Attorney-General, Mr. PRATT, will be with him. I have just been struck with the bad News, that Mr. — has lost his Wife. You will perceive I write in a Hurry; Mr. STUART sits by me.

I DESIRE my Compliments to Mr. HULL and Miss MORRISON, with many Thanks for the Pleasure I received from last Night's Play. ^* It was, indeed, acted with great Spirit, and as far as I could judge, afforded the Au­dience no small Satisfaction—not, perhaps, equal to what they derived from the Appearance of the Dun Cow, &c. ^† for that is hardly to be expected.

I think the Play has now so much good in it, that it may be worth Mr. HULL's while [Page 116] to give it a few more finishing Touches. Sup­pose a Confessor or Friar, either out of Ha­tred to the Queen, view to his own Advance­ment, or any selfish Motive (which he might explain in a short Soliloquy) persuaded ROSA­MOND to aspire to the Throne, and to urge the King to a Divorce; that ROSAMOND should avow her Abhorrence of such Injustice to the Queen, intimating, that her Love had no other Object than the King's Person and heroic Vir­tues; that this Refusal should affront the Friar, who in Revenge should inform the Queen, that ROSAMOND actually had those very Intentions with which he had been endeavouring to in­spire her, &c. This would throw more Plot into the Play, (which it wants) would more sufficiently account for the Queen's sudden Change from a mild Character to a revenge­ful one, and, as Mr. HULL thinks the Play too short, would add two new Scenes. Some further Improvements I would recommend in the Close, and a few more Places; but Mr. HULL's further Attention to the Play, will render it need­less to point them out to him.

If you should ever complete this Undertak­ing to your Liking, and produce the Piece [Page 117] on a London-Stage, I would recommend, that you should by all Means give it a double Title in the printed Bills; namely, HENRY the Second, or the Fall of ROSAMOND.

I should esteem it as a Favour, if Mr. HULL would send me down a Copy of the Prologue and Epilogue as they were spoken; which I will not communicate without his Permission. Either his or Miss MORRISON's Muse seems to favour them at a Minute's Warning.

Mr. HODGETTS, with whom I am at pre­sent, would be glad that Mr. HULL would dine here, about two; and so should I, if it be no way inconvenient to him.

I had almost forgot to thank you for the Stanzas you left at the Leasowes, when I was on a Visit to Hagley. They are well con­structed for the Occasion, and the Idea seems to arise from humane Sensibility, warmed with honest Indignation.

IF I recollect aright, both you and NED ALCOCK were here this last Autumn, on the Evening when my Fish-Ponds had been robbed, and the Fish destroyed. You were an Eye-Witness of the Circumstances, there­fore cannot but retain them in your Memo­ry. I find I have been arraigned of Lenity, by several conscientiously-upright Neighbours. ‘" I have screened a Robber from Justice;"—" I have given Encouragement to future Thefts," &c.’ Such are the Aspersions wherewith I have [Page 121] been loaded. I make a material Distinction between a Robber and a Pilferer; nor can I assign the former Appellation to a poor Wretch, who, in his Hunger, has taken two or three Fishes, or as many Loaves. It is true, I would rather have given more than the Value of them, to have prevented my finny Friends being di­sturbed in, or taken away, from their elemen­tal Habitation; it is also as true, that, in my first Warmth, on the Report that the Fellow had bruised the poor Creatures to Death against the Stumps and Roots of Trees, I could not only have delivered him over to Justice, but have been almost induced to become myself his Punisher; but when that Warmth submitted to cool Reflection, I felt it impossible to resist his Argument, of having a Wife with five Children at Home, and not a Doit to procure them a Meal. I verily believe too he spoke the Truth. Poverty and Affliction seemed to work and plead within him, and his Words were the Words of Nature.

I cannot be so severe against these petty Misdemeanours as many are; nor can I, though I revere the Call of Justice, be a rigorous [Page 122] Supporter of its Claims, except in atrocious Cases. Beside, what had it availed me, to have consigned the Offender to the Power of a Ma­gistrate? Rather say, what Pain and Inconve­nience should I not have entailed on myself? I should have had the Trouble of attending the Examination; have had the Fellow impri­soned many Days; and the additional Mortifi­cation of travelling, perhaps to Warwick, or Worcester, in order to convict him. And after all, no Restitution is made for my Loss, though it were ten Times more valuable than a whole Draught of Fishes. There is surely something deficient in our Laws, concerning the Meum & Tuum; the Person robbed not only abides the Loss without Amends, but is even put to Expence, as well as Inconvenience, to get the Robber punished.

Then again, the Wife and five Children!—The poor Fellow subsists, chief Part of the Year, only by carrying News-Papers round the Country. Had He been shut up, what was to have supported the ragged Family meanwhile? I am beside inclined to think, that half a Crown, and a little wholesome Admonition, [Page 123] that is, if he be not a practised and stubborn Offender, might go as far towards amending his Morals, as an Acquaintance with the In­side of a Prison, and the Conversation of such Associates as he might find there.

I have suffered myself sometimes to doubt the Excellence of our Laws, relative to Life and Death, notwithstanding I know it has been asserted by many People, that they are wiser than those of any other Nation. What then? Is the Man who takes a few Guineas from you on the Highway, on a Level with him who commits a deliberate Murder? And is there no Punishment to be found more ade­quate to the first Transgression, than taking away the Life? Surely, one Example made by a visible Brand, a Mark of Disgrace, which could never be washed away, would more avail towards the Prevention of future Crimes, than half the Executions in the Kingdom, which have now, from two great Frequency, lost the chief Part of their Purpose and Terror. The Punishment which was inflicted by a Regent in some Part of the East, (I think the Circum­stance is related in the Arabian Nights Enter­tainments) [Page 124] on a Judge who had been induced, by Gold, to give an unjust Decision, is admi­rable. The Brand, placed on his Habitation, in legible Characters, ‘" Here lives a corrupt Judge,"’ was, in the highest Degree, conso­nant to Justice, inasmuch as it made the Crime its own Punishment.

I have been led into these Reflections by finding how severely I have been arraigned, only for having been an innocent Defrauder of the Law: so have troubled you with them; but here I come to a Conclusion. You are at Liberty to draw what Inferences you please from, or make what Objections you like to, my Opinion.

I am now to thank you for the Anecdotes you have given me, as well as for the Peru­sal of the enclosed Ballad. I am particularly pleased with the Image,

I ESTEEM myself beholden to you, for having made me acquainted with the Rea­lity of the two Writers, Dr. LANCASTER and HENRY. I have admired them both in their Pages, but knew only their Names. In fact, when I first read the Essay on Delicacy, I ima­gined the Name of LANCASTER to be ficti­tious, and that the Work might be the Pro­duction of the Author of Sir Thomas Fitz-Oshorne's Letters. There is great Spirit, fine Sentiment, and true Elegance of Style through­out; and my Friend DODSLEY's preserving it in his Fugitive Pieces is truly meritorious. It well deserves to be rescued from Oblivion. But what a Pity that your Uncle does not make a more frequent Use of his Pen! the World does not abound too much in such Writers. [Page 133] How much likewise is it to be lamented, that a Man of such Abilities should lie concealed in an obscure Part of Essex! He should have remained in the World—that is, I mean, for the Sake of the World; to his own Happi­ness, probably, Retirement was most condu­cive. It is most certain, that no Men are fit for Solitude, but those who find the Source of Amusement and Employment in themselves. Fancy, Reflection, and a Love of Reading, are indispensably necessary for such a Situation. It is downright Lunacy for a Man who has pas­sed his Life in a Compting-House, or a Shop; who possesses, possibly, but a moderate Share of natural Understanding, that Understanding too not cultivated by Education, and who has ne­ver known what it is was to look into a Book—It is, I repeat, downright Lunacy, for such a Man to think of retiring. He knows not, the Fatigue he is going to encounter: he will want Employment for his Hours; most pro­bably, may shorten his Existence, and while he retains it, it will be one continued State of Apathy, if not Disorder.

[Page 134]HENRY, you say, is a Mr. GRIFFITH, of the County of Kilkenny in Ireland. A Friend brought me over the Letters of HENRY and FRANCES, when they were first published in Dublin; they are most admirably clever and comprehensive; I have enjoyed and re-enjoyed them; and while I have admired the Wri­tings, have loved the Writers. In the private Character you have given me of this amiable Pair, I feel as if I were acquainted with them. Before the Information received from you, I have sometimes suffered myself to think, and even communicated to an intimate Friend or two, that there was a Similitude of Disposition between HENRY and myself; but when I look on your Description of him, I entertain much Doubt. In the active Parts of his Philosophy, his Perseverance, and Re­solution, I fear I am far behind him. He is a Man qualified for any State or Situation; Business or Amusement, Solitude or a Crowd.—And you have spent Months with him at Kilkenny!—I give you Joy of such an Hap­piness.

[Page 135]Again I thank you for the Enclosures you are ever and anon sending, and am,

I AM greatly obliged both to you and Miss MORRISON, for the Ballads you were so good as to inclose to me. The Speed you have used in sending them, testifies the Rea­lity of that Delight you seemed to express at the Leasowes, when I first communicated my Friend Dr. PERCY's Design. I sent them di­rectly [Page 136] to him; he has begun to print off his venerable Collection, ^* with an Eye to the Publication of it sometime next Winter. One of your Ballads is truly beautily and extreme­ly proper for his Purpose. It has that Nai­veté, which is so very essential in Ballads of all Kind; and which requires no more than, that sublime, or elegant, or tender Sentiments be expressed in a simple and unaffected Manner— Sentimental Language would be no ill Term for it; or, perhaps, the Essay before DODSLEY's Fables does not improperly stile it, the Voice of Sentiment, in Opposition to the Language of Reflection.

As to the other, Miss M— well di­stinguishes, that the Merit of it is almost wholly confined to the Sentiment at last. This is both natural and tender; and would she take the Pains to new-write the whole on this Ac­count, (for even this Sentiment is not expressed so very simply as one could wish it) I dare say it is in her Power to render it very plea­sing. [Page 137] I know not how far I am singular; but as I love to avail myself of different Words, to bundle up Ideas in different Parcels, it is become habitual to me, to call that a Ballad which describes or implies some Action; on the other Hand, I term that a Song, which contains only an Expression of Sentiment. Ac­cording to this Account, I believe one of your Pieces would appear a Ballad, and the other a Song.

The Play-House Coronations answer the Pur­pose of all those who chuse to compound the Matter betwixt Indolence and Curiosity. Mr. GARRICK has given a very genteel Turn to this Taste among the Citizens, in his Epilogue to the new Play. ^* I have not yet seen this Performance; and should be glad if you would give me some Account of its Appearance on the Stage. Why does not your Dr. LANCAS­TER ^† compleat his Essay upon Delicacy? I read it, since I wrote last, in DODSLEY's Fugitive [Page 138] Pieces, and think it mighty well deserves the Labour necessary to its Continuation.

'Tis true, that Specimens of Wit or Hu­mour have been dispensed this Winter but spa­ringly from the Press; and even there in po­litical Pamphlets, where I am least inclined to seek them. But we must swim with the Tide, if we would collect the Shells and Co­rals that it leaves behind; accordingly I have read two or three of these Pamphlets which have answered my Expectations. Should any other appear that strikes you, be so good as to enclose it to me in a Frank. As to La­vinia, or other dramatic Schemes, I must de­fer them till I see you again at the Leasowes, which whenever it happens, will afford me Pleasure, being very faithfully and affectio­nately

I OUGHT to have returned Thanks for your agreeable Account of the Excursion to Chepstow, some Time ago; but these are Du­ties which I do not always perform so soon as I ought—you know I don't—Neither will I waste my Time and Paper in apologizing for a Failing which you are so ready to forgive, [Page 144] convinced that I am not less grateful on that Account.

I have great Joy in reading these little pleasurable Travels, in a private Letter, related, as yours are, without Formality, describing, with Ease and Simplicity, every little Occur­rence as it falls out. I can journey with you in Imagination, and partake every trivial Dif­ficulty and every Delight. You are fond of these little Parties of Pleasure, as they are called, and in you it is, by no Means, reprovable; but in general, they are very dangerous to young Folks. You have Means and Time, at your own Disposal; your Party is small and select, both in Point of Reputation and Un­derstanding; you likewise turn your Excur­sion to some Advantage; you make Observa­tions on all you see, form nice Distinctions between different Places, Points, and Charac­ters, and draw just Conclusions from them—But, as I said before, these Parties too often are hazardous; the Mind once indulged in them, is apt to covet them too often; they are sometimes the Means of drawing a Female into improper Company; they encroach on [Page 145] Means and Time, neither of which, probably, can with Propriety be bestowed; they have their Source in Dissipation, are continually at­tended with Hazard, and too often end in the Worst of Mischiefs. In short, I would wish all young Folks, who have neither Leisure nor Money at Command, to shut their Ears against the very Name of a Party of Pleasure.

More than once in my Life, I have been so­licited by Friends to visit foreign Climes. I had an Invitation of this Kind lately; but it is now too late; at least, I think so—Besides, why should a Man go so far for Objects of Cu­riosity, who has seen too little of his own Coun­try? Many Parts of England, Wales and Scot­land equally (I should think) deserve our Ad­miration, and we need not risque Winds and Waves, to which I feel some Objection. Num­bers of our travelling Gentry peregrinate too early in Life, before the Mind is sufficiently formed to make proper Observations on what they see and hear.

A Friend once related an Anecdote, which is apposite to my Subject. A very young [Page 146] Man, of good natural Understanding, and Heir to an affluent Fortune, would needs be one of these inconsiderate Travellers. In the Course of his Adventures, he fell into Company, in Naples, with some well-travelled, and well-in­formed Foreigners. They were conversing on what they had seen in England; and some little Difference in Opinion arising about the Ar­chitecture of Windsor-Castle, they naturally re­ferred themselves to the young Englishman for Decision. With much Confusion and Hesita­tion he was compelled to confess, he had ne­ver seen the Building in Question. The Com­pany, with true foreign Politeness, only testi­fied their Admiration in a silent Smile—but the Reflection instantly struck, and pained the young Gentleman. The Result was, that he returned for England within two Days, rational­ly determined to instruct himself in the Know­ledge of his own Country, before he pryed in­to those afar off. His Reflection and Deter­mination did equal Credit to his Understanding.

Our Friend HULL has, as usual, been amu­sing us with as good a Drama, as our neigh­bouring Town can give Encouragement to; [Page 147] but says, he returns no more. I know many who will be sorry on this Account. He has not departed, however, without having excited Curiosity in a very peculiar Way; on a small Plan, indeed, but to a very commenda­ble Purpose. He enticed with him his two principal Actresses, Miss MORRISON and Miss IBBOT, (both possessed of great Merit in their Profession) some few of his Band, two Voices, and gave an Evening's Entertainment of Sing­ing and Reading, at the little Town of Stour­bridge, some few Miles off; the Profits de­voted to the Assistance of a Tradesman, who had suffered under repeated Misfortunes. The Success, I hear, more than answered his Ex­pectations; the little Assembly-Room was croud­ed, and with much good Company. A slight Cold made me fearful of being out late, but the Particulars were given me by a neigh­bouring Clergyman who was present. The Pieces selected for Reading were well-chosen. I do not remember the whole Number, but I recollect that Miss CARTER 's Ode to Wisdom, PRIOR 's Henry and Emma, and GRAY's Elegy in a Country Church-Yard were amongst them. The latter gave particular Satisfaction, my [Page 148] Friend told me, to the Gentlemen of the Pul­pit, of whom he counted seven. The whole was received with great Approbation. You are to observe that HULL and his Party, so far from proposing any Emolument to them­selves, declined even to be re-imbursed the Ex­pences they were at in going, and the Master of the Assembly-Room gave the Use of it. From this confined Instance of such a Scheme, I am apt to think an Union of Poetry and Music, executed on a larger Plan, would be an admirable Two-Hours-Entertainment, either in a public Room or private Family.

I enclose a Piece of Writing, which a Friend of mine sent me in a Frank last Week. I think the Subject calculated for your Liking. It was planned, and partly written, in Mr. HOARE's lovely Grounds, at Stourton in Wilt­shire; and the Thought suggested by survey­ing, from an Eminence there, a woody Vale, wherein ALFRED is reported to have once con­cealed himself from the Danes. Send it back, when you have done with it.

IT gives me the greatest Pleasure, that I have an Opportunity of conveying to a Person of your Taste, the inclosed Fragments of an­tient Caledonian Poesy—

But Thanks to the Taste and Care of the in­genious Translator, that we have not to la­ment the utter Loss of those Pieces, which reflect so much Lustre on the Memory of the original Bards. Here we see Poets framed by the Hand of Nature; their Manners rude and [Page 168] uncultivated, as the Wilds they inhabited; unacquainted with ARISTOTLE and HORACE, but pouring the (I had almost said) involun­tary Effusions of Minds filled with true poe­tic Fire, deeply interested in the Themes they sung, devoid of all Rules, they attach and warm the Heart, by an amazing though se­cret Power, the constant Effect of copying Nature, but copying her justly; to which the languid Efforts of Art bear scarce so inte­resting a Proportion, as the Shadow to the Substance.

From the general Structure of the Poetry, from the Names of the Persons celebrated in it, and the Hints of the Costume scattered here and there, it would appear, that these Poems were composed about the Time that the antient Bards of Iceland, and the other northern Countries, made so great a Figure in Poetry; or, perhaps, their Date may reach back beyond the Time of Christianity being preached in our Islands; hence it will follow, that our Ancestors were rising by surprising Efforts to catch the fairest Flowers of Par­nassus, while the polite Regions of Europe re­sounded [Page 169] with polemic Theology and monkish Nonsense: this becomes the more probable, when we reflect, that scarce any Trace of Christianity is to be found in these Pieces, and no Trace of the Names that prevailed after the ninth Century, instead of which, the Names appear entirely Pagan; and numberless Hints are taken from the predatory Life our Ancestors (particularly those of the Islands and north-west Coasts of Scotland) led before, and at the first preaching of the Gospel among them. A critical Examination of the original Language would help to throw some Light on this Conjecture, as well as the Publication of Pieces of greater Length, which may follow these first Specimens. It is not, however, to be doubted, that the many Fragments still preserved amongst our Highlanders of their an­tient Poetry, may be of great Use in settling the History, and ascertaining the Meaning of several Antiquities dispersed over the moun­tainous Parts of Scotland, while the Man of Taste must be agreeably surprised to find a Beauty and Force of Diction, a Warmth of Fancy, a chaste and truly noble Simplicy united, where hitherto no Person has ever looked for it. [Page 170] If these Specimens are well received by the Public, and if suitable Encouragement were given to the ingenious Translator, he would oblige the World with the Translation of the Epic Poem mentioned in the Preface, which consists of upwards of nine thousand Lines: but the dependant Situation of a Tutor can­not afford him Leisure to undertake so great a Work.

Your Friends in this Corner of the World were much disappointed, in not having the Happiness of seeing you last Summer along with Lord LYTTELTON; and without Flattery I can assure, that the Number of your Friends in Scotland is greater than, perhaps, you think of, and every one of them would be happy to have an Opportunity of seeing and obli­ging you. Lord ALEMOOR, Dr. ROEBUCK and his Spouse desire to be remembered; and I shall take it as a particular Favour, that you would, at a leisure Hour, write me your Opi­nion of the inclosed Specimens, and allow me to be with Esteem, truly, dear Sir,

Two frank'd Covers will bring the two first Divisions of the Fragment. Please, address for me at Edingburgh.

I KNOW no Way so good of making up for my long Silence to you, as sending you the enclosed Poem, which if it gives you as much Pleasure as it did me, you will give me no small Thanks for: it is translated from an old Highland Poem, by one Mr. M' PHER­SON, a Minister in the Highlands. There are great Numbers of these Elegies all over the Highlands, which they sing to mournful Tunes in the Evening over their Fires. Mr. M' PHER­SON has, I hear, translated ten more of them, which I fancy will soon be published; if they are not, I shall endeavour to get them, and send them to you. It will be needless to say [Page 172] any Thing in Praise of the Poem, as I think it can sufficiently recommend itself. The Trans­lation has a great deal of Merit; I think it is one of the best I ever saw. I fancy SHEN­STONE will be much pleased with the Poem, which I shall be obliged to you if you will present to him with my Compliments.

I SAFE arrived in Somersetshire, after two pleasant and easy Days Journey, and am now set down to write to you, according to my Promise, and to note what Alterations or Innovations I had observed upon, in the Modes and Manners of London, since I had not been there so long before.

This Chapter is reduced to so few Heads, from the several Conversations we had together in Town, upon the taking down the Signs, the rooting up the Posts, the paving and lighting of Oxford-Road, Holborn, Monmouth-Street, and St. Giles's, the constructing of Black-Friars-Bridge, &c. that I cannot recollect any other Remark I made worth mentioning, at present, except the introducing of Asses in the City, for the Use of Milkmen, Fruiterers, Hawkers, &c.

[Page 184]This I thought a great Improvement, as it serves to lessen the Number of Barrows that used to interrupt Walkers on the broad Pave­ments; but this Consideration was damped again at seeing the barbarous Treatment these poor Animals often suffer from their brutal Guides or Riders. I often thought of STERNE upon these Occasions. ^* An Ass is a dull, slow Creature, that will not mend its Pace for Whip or Spur—This these Wretches call Obstinacy, and so punish it for a Defect of Nature, as they would for a moral Vice: for if they reason at all, you may be sure they reason thus, because it is wrong.

This has renewed a Reflection in my Mind, that has often occurred to me before, upon the unaccountable Disposition towards Cruelty exercised against the Brute-Creation, which is too frequently observed among the general Classes of Mankind, who have not been re­strained by natural Sentiment, or refined by a liberal Education.

[Page 185]If Sympathy, as modern Philosophers assert, be the ultimate Cause of our being affected for others, that of Pain, one would think, should be the strongest. All Men do not feel Misfortunes, or suffer Grief, alike. One Per­son may resent a Mortification, or a Loss, to Madness; while his more temperate Friend can afford his Pity or Compassion no higher or further than his own Passions or Sentiments would have extended in the same Circumstances. Here Sympathy is at an End. But all Per­sons and Animals too are alike sensible of Pain— Ergo—

We have from hence Reason to conclude, that 'tis more from Want of Thought, than of Humanity, that the contrary is so apparent; and this Argument, I think, is fully proved by the Observation, that Children and Fools are the most guilty of it.

Besides which, there is a great deal in Cus­tom, that may take off from the natural Feel­ings of Compassion, with Regard to the Brute-Creation, among Numbers of People, such as [Page 186] Butchers, Surgeons, Soldiers, &c. A Fish­woman being reprehended for the Barbarity of fleaing Eels alive, answered, that it was no Cruelty, as they were so much used to it; which was plainly transferring the Insensibility she had herself acquired, through Habit, to the poor suf­fering Reptile. This puts me in Mind of the Blunder of an Irish Parliament once, that framed an Act to punish Forgery with the Loss of both Ears, and so toties quoties.

There is also, I apprehend, a Sort of No­tion resting in uninstructed Minds, that Mo­rality has nothing to do with our Actions to­wards Brutes, any more than it has with Re­gard to inanimate Nature; so that many Folks, from such a strange Misconception, torture an Animal with as little Remorse as they would lop off the Branch of a Tree. Such People must never have read the Sentence of SOLO­MON, that a good Man is merciful to his Beast; nor that of SHAKESPEARE,

[Page 187]I remember I was once sitting with a Friend, and seeing his Son tormenting a poor Dog, by making him suffer great Pain, I spake to the Father, to reprove him for it; to which he coolly answered, that as he designed the Boy for the Army, he did not care to inspire him with too tender Feelings. ‘"Your Idea might not be much amiss,"’ I replied, ‘"if you meant to breed him a Butcher, or a Hangman."’ What a Gothic Notion, that Bravery and Hu­manity were incompatible!

OVID seems to have been of my Opinion in the above Reproof, by making Priests, who were the first Butchers, or Sacrificers, to have led the Way to Cruelty and Slaughter—

I will not say, however, that this may be the Reason why Parsons and Butchers are equally excluded from being on Juries of Life and Death, because there would be a Sort of pert Dulness in the Remark—Asking Pardon for the [Page 188] Tautology—No; the true Reason for these Exclusions is, that the latter are rendered cal­lous, from being too familiar with Slaughter; and with Regard to the former, that the Mini­sters of Peace should keep clear of Blood.

A Thought has just occurred to me. I have not Leisure both to examine and to write it too, so I shall only sport it for the present. Perhaps, the Injunction in the Levitical Law, to abstain from Blood, might not have been meant in Derogation of Black-Puddings in the least, but only as a figurative Manner of re­peating the Sixth Commandment, ‘"Thou shalt do no Murder."’

A Comment upon the Inhibition of PYTHA­GORAS, Abstine à Fabis, ^* has hinted this No­tion to me; for the learned BACON, which Name, you know, accords very well with Beans, says, that what the Sage intended by the Pro­hibition was, to forbid meddling with the Con­tentions and Strife of Electioneering, where the Votes or Suffrages were given, pro and con, by black and white Beans.

[Page 189]And this Interpretation ought certainly to appear the true Sense of the Precept, from this Consideration; for as that Philosopher had before restricted his Disciples from the Use of all animal Food, on Account of the transmi­gratory Notions he had picked up in India, he could not possibly have been so unconscio­nable, as to have laid any Manner of Restraint on the vegetable Product of the Earth.

THE great Respect you, Sir, have shewn to Mr. SHENSTONE, in dedicating your Tragedy of ROSAMOND to his Memory, added to the Pleasure I have received from some of your other Publications, will, I trust, plead an Excuse for an Intrusion from a Stranger, and especially as it is to beg your Acceptance of the enclosed Poem; it was written by that Friend whose Death you so feelingly lament; it has been in my Possession ever since, or before that Period: of its Merits I am no Judge; but from its Author, should imagine it not destitute, and have long regretted its remaining in Hands so little capable of mak­ing it appear as it ought. The sincere Plea­sure I received, in seeing Mr. SHENSTONE's Name so respectfully and publickly revived, induced me to wish to make the Author some Acknowledgment, and this appears to be the [Page 191] only Way; for should not the Diamond have Brilliancy enough for the Public, yet it may not be an unwelcome Amusement to a private Friend, to remove the Dimness.

I should much sooner have made this Ac­knowledgment, but from a Diffidence of its being accepted; however, I hope the best, and that you will be kind enough to accept it as it is meant. Should it prove worthy of No­tice, and acceptable to so partial a Friend, I shall hope, (as I have no Copy) to receive your Opinion; and must request it as a par­ticular Favour, that to any Friend you chuse to shew it, my Name may not be mentioned; on that Account I decline saying any Thing of myself. My Address is, &c.

Permit me to hope you will excuse the Er­rors of a weak Pen, and believe me, Sir,

PERMIT me, Sir, to assure you, that to me your Manner of receiving what I thought only a due Acknowledgment to your disinterested Friendship, more than even ac­quits a real Obligation, as well as gives me a sincere Pleasure in reflecting, that what I esteem'd is at last in the Hands of one who will equally value its intrinsic Worth, and is so much more capable of introducing it proper­ly to the public Inspection; such I imagine is your Intention, and I most willingly receive the Favour you offer, of letting me know your Determination; for why may I not look upon the Friend of a Gentleman, whose Me­mory I esteem, in the Number of my own? Give me leave so to do, and as such to pre­sent the Compliments of the Season to you and Mrs. HULL, with cordial Wishes for your seeing many happy Returns.

[Page 214]The Manner of the Diamond is similar to the Poem you mention; ^* but if I may, without exposing my Judgment, speak the Truth, I give the former the Preference, even against POPE, and this because I think there is greater Deli­cacy of Sentiment: but what else could be ex­pected from a Mind, the Characteristics of which were refined Sensibility, and unbounded Bene­volence? Though, as I cannot express more than I believe you think, I will stop my Pen, by saying, that I trust you will allow your own Wish, relative to the Snuff-Box, as a Plea for my so soon troubling you with another Letter, and that I remain, with due Respect,

P. S. I thank you for the two Inscriptions to the Memory of our amiable Friend. They would have been agreeable Companions to some of the same Turn already printed at the End of his Works, by Mr. DODSLEY. That which was wrote by CUNNINGHAM is possessed of genuine Elegance and Sensibility. I dare say you think so. Those you have sent, affect me in the same Manner; particularly the Prose-Tribute, which you tell me came from a fe­male Pen. I think I can guess the Writer, and would, when next I see her, challenge a Confession, were I sure I could do it with­out wounding her Delicacy of Feeling.

The Elegy I also admire much. The Thoughts of the Author are equally tender and benevolent with those of the Friend, whose Memory he so pathetically laments. The last Lines of the second Stanza particularly please me.

I Received your Letter, and it has astonished me, that you can be in the least Degree hurt by the Opinion of narrow Minds. With Regard to the Grievance you complain of; let it be always a Matter of Consolation to you, that the illiberal Treatment Actors may some­times meet with, on Account of their Profession, can never proceed from any but illiberal Minds; 'tis the Censurers themselves who become Objects of Contempt, when they would render you so, from that Consideration merely: and this Reflec­tion ought therefore to make you as indifferent to such Instances of Ignorance and Ill-breed­ing, [Page 219] as you would be to a Billingsgate Scold, or a St. Giles's Abuse.

An Actor is a respectable Character, while he properly considers, and endeavours to preserve the original Design of his Profession; and I have ever been of Opinion, and am convinced of the Truth of the Maxim, that acting should unques­tionably be accepted among the Liberal Arts, even with this Advantage over Poetry and Pain­ting, that it superadds Example to Document and Delight. 'Tis the living Moral, while the others are but the dead Letter. The Stage is a School, and may be an useful one too—As such it was patronized and cherished by the wisest and most virtuous States of Greece and Rome; and it has been the Fault of Managers, not of Actors, when­ever Theatres have ceased to afford either Pre­cept or Example.

There are so many Requisites of Talents, Assiduity, and Person, to form a complete Actor, that even a moderate Degree of Ex­cellence should be deemed sufficient Merit to entitle a Performer to the public Favour and Indulgence: to which, if an honest, decent [Page 220] and unexceptionable Repute be joined, I can see no Sort of Reason, in the Nature or Di­stinction of Things, why the Sock and Buskin should not be admitted ad eundem with the Goif and Cowl; so that it must be the per­sonal Character, and not the Dramatis Personae, that can ever debase your Profession; in which Predicament, both the Parson and the Lawyer stand equally with you.

But, indeed, the World, that illiberal Part of it which you hint at, are apt to consider us Au­thors, also, in the same inferior Light they do Actors. I remember a Friend of mine, some­time ago, was cast off by his Father, for having published a very ingenious Poem, while he was a Student at the Temple; and another Acquaintance was severely reproved by his Re­lations, for having married a Lady, every other Way worthy of his Choice, because she had written a Book.

Such curious Censors, I suppose, would de­spise the Meanness of my Spirit now, if I should declare to them, that I would rather have been HOMER or VIRGIL, than ALEX­ANDER [Page 221] or AUGUSTUS; and ROSCIUS the Ac­tor, than the Tribune of the same Name; though the latter was a Sort of Manager, as may be proved by his having framed the Lex Roscia, for the Regulation of the Theatre at Rome. But it might possibly reconcile them to me again, if I should confess this common Foible of human Nature, at the same Time, that fond as I am of Fame, I would yet rather be even what I am myself now, than the best of them all then. This is some Sort of Qua­lification to the former Sentiment.

I shall here conclude my Letter to you, with intreating, that you will continue to de­feat the Malice of such ignorant Censors, by an uniform Attention to the Spirit and Utility of that Walk in Life, which either Fortune, or your own Choice, has led you into. Elevate your Crest; take [...], for your Motto, and study the following Lines which this Subject has just brought to my Mind.

Farewel—Despise low-minded Censurers. The Drama subsists for the Propagation and Im­provement of moral Virtue. Wise Men know this. Your Profession has to you answered the dearest and best Purposes—(You know whereto I allude)—Be grateful for the Bene­fits, and do not let Fools put you out of Conceit with it.

WHEN you undertook to be the Ama­nuensis, as well as the Receiver-Gene­ral to the agreeable Society I have left with so much Regret, I remember you charged me to write as soon as I should reach this Place; I accordingly begin my Task, and am very happy to have an Opportunity of writing to you a good long Letter, without the Expence of Postage, which I have not the Vanity to sup­pose my Epistles deserve; I send this by a pretty Sort of Man, whose Name is —, and who, I should suppose, has some strong Attachment in your County, which induces him to take so long a Journey at this rude Season of the Year.

We were very fortunate in Weather, and found the Roads as good as the Nature of the [Page 224] Country will allow them to be. Some Parts of Savoy is frightfully wild and dreary, other Parts very romantic and beautiful. I was vast­ly amused with the Manner of crossing Mount Cenis: the Chair we are carried in, or rather on, resemble a good deal a Chinese Palanquin, only they want a Canopy over them; the Chairmen are certainly the best in the World, or it would be both dangerous and frightful; it seems to me, that they have the Strength of Mules, and the Agility of Goats, for they run down the Precipices, and bound from Rock to Rock, in a most astonishing Manner. The Ascent of the Mountain is three Miles, on the Side of Savoy, the Plain on the Top, six Miles in Length, and the Descent on the Turin Side, six Miles more; we had four Men to each of the Ladies' Chairs, and six to the Gentlemen's, and after carrying us these fifteen dreadful Miles, they were quite delighted that our Party took them on from Novalese (a small Town at the Foot of Mount Cenis) to Susa, which is nine Miles further, and they carried us the last three Leagues in an Hour and a Half, laughing and jesting with each other all the Way, as if they had been doing a Thing [Page 225] merely for Sport and Amusement; so you see, my dear Sir, how visible the Goodness of Pro­vidence is to all Creatures; these poor Souls, who spend all their Lives in the utmost In­digence, and inhabit a Country that seems only fit for Savages, if they are denied the Luxu­ries of Life, are amply repaid, in the Enjoy­ment of a double Portion of Health and Strength.

We stopped a few Days at Lyons, Turin, Milan and Verona, and saw every Thing wor­thy a Stranger's Curiosity, in each of these fine Cities; nothing amused me more, than seeing a Parcel of Angels walking about the Streets of Milan, they were fine Cherry-cheek'd Boys, ready dressed for a grand Procession that was preparing for the Day following, in Ho­nour of the Virgin Mary's Birth-Day. Venice is a very magnificent Place, and possesses the Charm of Novelty in a much higher Degree than any of the other Places I have named; 'tis impossible to give a stronger Idea of it, 'tis in a Stile so peculiar to itself. The Mask­ing is begun, which is extremely entertaining: I should be excessively happy to pop in amongst [Page 226] your dear Society some Day, when you are all as­sembled; I assure you, it would be no small Surprize to see me in a Venetian Dress; it consists of a long black silk Cloak, called here a Tabora, a Baouta, which is made of black Lace, three Quarters of a Yard long, and five Times as wide, and hangs about the Shoul­ders like a Petticoat; it has a Hood to it, which, when you choose to be concealed, covers the bottom Part of the Face to the upper Lip, the rest is hid by a white Mask, and the Women wear on their Heads a Man's Hat smartly cocked; the Venetian Women, who are rather masculine in their Manner, look still more so in this Dress.

We have had the Prince of Brunswick here for ten Days, which made the Town all alive. I will describe to you one of the Entertain­ments made for him, and that will serve as a Specimen of all the Rest. Our Resident had not got then into his Palace, (as it is justly called, for it is indeed a noble one) so that he could not make any Entertainments for the Prince, but he gave him some excellent Mu­sic one Morning in a private Manner, which [Page 227] he seemed to enjoy the more for being so. The Night after his Highness's Arrival, Count DURAZZO, the Imperial Ambassador, invited all the English, the foreign Nobility that don't belong to Venice, and all the foreign Ministers, to meet the Prince at Supper. The Ambassa­dress received her Guests with mingled Grace and Dignity, she is really a fine Woman, and her Beauty was heightened by all the Elegance of Dress; soon after the Company were as­sembled, a most delightful Serenade began upon the Water, which was not only delightful to the Ear, but formed a very beautiful Object to the Sight, for the Musicians were placed in a large open Barge finely illuminated; the Har­mony drew around them an infinite Number of Gondolas belonging to the noble Venetians, who could no otherwise partake of this Feast; for by their Laws they are secluded from all Commerce with Strangers that are in a public Character. At proper Intervals of the Music, all Sorts of Refreshments, of Ices, Fruits, Sweat-meats, Lemonades, &c. &c. were presented to the Company, who, when they had listened to the Serenade for some Time, changed the Scene, either sat down to Cards, or formed little chat­ting [Page 228] Parties. When the Card-Tables broke up, a very elegant Concert, composed of a few choice Pieces of Music, performed by the very best Hands, agreeably filled up Time, till a most magnificent Supper was served. When the Company rose from Table, Coffee was brought, which is the Custom here after Supper, as well as after Dinner; when this was over, a superb Barge attended, in which the Prince, and all the Ladies, and a suitable Number of Gentlemen were placed, and rowed to St. Mark's (which is the only public Place here for walking) followed by the Music, the rest of the Company in their Gondolas, and those of the noble Venetians which the Harmony had attracted. After walking for some Time to enjoy the cool Air, the Company retired to a very elegant Apartment, which the Am­bassadress has on the Place of St. Mark, where she receives her Company, when she chuses to be in private. When we had chatted here for Half an Hour, it was found to be a proper Time to retire, as it was three o'Clock in the Morning; and so ended this agreeable Even, every Part of which was employed in some innocent Amuse­ment, without any Thing being hurried or con­fused. [Page 229] I have been the more particular in this Account, that you may see, my good Friend, that Taste and Elegance is no more wanting in Venice, than it is in the gay Metropolis of Britain.

I hope you will soon indulge me with a Letter, and that it will bring me a good Account of yourself, and every worthy Indi­vidual of our Friends in Friendship assembled; send it in a Frank to Mr. L—, in — Street, London, and he will put it in his Ex­cellency's Packet: it must be but a single Letter, but I hope it will contain a good deal. I long to hear that your good Mother is well re-established in her Health, she is a worthy Soul, and one cannot help wishing such People to live for ever; I hope, my dear Friend, though such a cruel Distance divides us, that I am not esteemed the less a Member of the friendly Society, than if I was with you; I find the same Warmth of Affection towards the happy Circle, as if I was not an Absen­tee, therefore beg you will give my best Af­fections to all the happy Members.

[Page 230]I went the other Day to see the Ceremony of a Nun taking the last Veil, and 'tis very awful and melancholy, and, to speak honestly and unprudishly, does not inspire me with the least Desire to be a Nun: first, the divine Service is performed with very fine Music, both vocal and instrumental, in the Church of the Convent; then a little Door is opened in the Grate of the private Chapel, before which the Nun is seated on a Chair of State under a Canopy, with a Prayer-Book in her Hand, till the Service is finished; she then comes forward, and kneeling at the Grate, repeats to a Priest the Vows of the Order, and promises Obedience to the Abbess; she then rises, and the Nuns take off her white Veil, and put on a black one, after which she kneels and says some Prayers: then six of the Sisters advance, and hold over her a purple Pall, whilst Part of the Funeral-Service is read, during which Time she is supposed to be dead; they then take away the purple Cloth, and the Abbess places on her Head a Crown richly ornamented with Jewels, to signify that she dies to the World and rises again to Glory; she then receives [Page 231] from the Priest a Tablet, with the Rules of the Order, which she reads over and kisses; then, with the Tablet in one Hand, and a long wax Taper, ornamented with Wreaths of Flow­ers, in the other, she walks slowly round the Chapel, followed by the rest of the Nuns, and deposits the Tablet on the Altar. Thus ends the melancholy Ceremony. This young Lady was very pretty, and not above seventeen; we all thought she had an Appearance of great Constraint in her Chearfulness, but we were assured, it was entirely her Choice, that she had a large Fortune, had buried her Father, and was Mistress of herself; perhaps it may be the Taste of the Family, for another Sis­ter professed last Year in the same Convent.

As we are but just got to our new Habi­tation, you will easily suppose nobody is idle the House, however I was determined I would not lose so fair an Opportunity of writing to you, so hope you will excuse so vile a Scrawl, and believe me, when I assure you, there is nothing more true, than that I am, my good Sir, ever most sincerely and affectionately yours and the Society's,

MAY every Blessing of this chearful Sea­son await you, and every Individual of the happy Family and Friends you are with! May your Pleasures be unmixed with Pain, and your Years numerous and happy!—Re­ceive these fervent Wishes of an exiled Mem­ber of your worthy Society, and be assured, that though you are all Absent from my Sight, you are ever present to my Mind. I wrote you a long Letter, near three Months ago, by an Irish Gentleman, who assured me, he should be in your Part of the World as soon as the Post; when lo, and behold! three Weeks ago I heard of him at Sienna, where, I sup­pose, he will stay the Winter; therefore, as I am quite in the Dark, in Regard to the Fate of my unfortunate Epistle, I could not be easy till I had again set Pen to Paper, [Page 233] to request you will all continue to love me as I do you, which I assure you, my dear Sir, is with undiminished Truth. I believe I told you in my last, how to forward a Letter to me, but for fear you have never received it, I will repeat it; if you can send it to any Friend in London, and get them to forward it by the Penny Post to Mr. L—, in — Street, he will enclose it in the Secretary of State's Packet, by which Means, I shall be more certain of getting it safe, than by the Post, as well as that I shall receive it free.

I have a great Favour, my dear Sir, to beg of you, which is, that you will procure me a Piece of Information for the Use of our Resident, in Regard to a young Gentleman who has been at Venice for some Time, and seems in no Hurry to leave it, owing, as we imagine, to an Attachment to a fair Venetian Lady; his Name is —, his Family, he says, is settled near F— in Somersetshire; he makes a genteel Appearance in Point of Fortune, and seems to be a modest, pretty behaved young Man, upon which Account, his Excel­lency wishes to shew him any Civility in his [Page 234] Power; but, at the same Time, would be glad to be rightly informed, as to his Character and Family, before he receives him in an in­timate Manner. I thought it was very pro­bable, Mr. D— might know his Father. I have some Notion, I have heard the Name mentioned at Mr. B—'s; if, my dear Sir, you can procure me a particular Account of this young Hero, I shall esteem it as a great Fa­vour.

I am become wonderfully fond of the mas­quing Dress, and am told, I wear it just as well as a Venetian; 'tis the most comfortable, warm, Walking-Dress that can be conceived; I have kept House these last nine Days, be­cause it was prohibited, but to-morrow Mas­quing begins again, and continues till Lent. I am told we had an Earthquake, but, thank God, I did not perceive it: since that, there had been very tempestuous Weather, and vio­lent Snow and Rain, which, added to a high Tide, overflowed all the Canals, and I can't but say, at that Time Venice gave me a strong Idea of the universal Deluge.

[Page 235]There have been five Theatres open till within these nine Days, and I am told, in the Carnival there will be no less than seven. The comic Opera was very pleasing, in Point of Music, and always crouded; but the serious Opera nobody could bear, though MANZOLI sung in it, and TIBALDI, who is reckoned one of the best tenor Voices, if not the very best, now living. By this you will perceive how the English and Italian Taste for Music differs; though I must say, I believe the great­est Admirers of MANZOLI would allow he is much altered for the worse; for my own Part, had I not remembered his Person, I should not have had the least Recollection of him from his Voice. The Theatre, he performed at, was entirely fitted up with Glass, both the Stage and all the Boxes, which, when well lighted, had a fine Effect. There was a Change of the Scenes for one of the Dances, that was, I think one of the most beautiful Things I ever beheld.

The Italian Comedy does not delight me much, for I do not understand the Language [Page 236] well enough yet, to be amused with the Bon­mots of HARLEQUIN, and to laugh at him because he has a black Face, and at PAN­TALOON, merely for having a long Beard; it is not what I feel myself much disposed to do. I understand the Italian Tragedies better than the Comedies, but I find the Actors in­finitely below ours. I intend to be very stu­dious, and when all the Family are gadding to the Opera and the Play, I shall sit at home and drudge at the Italian, and this for many good Reasons, but chiefly to acquit my­self of my chief Promise to you.

We have, at present, a second Edition of the Prince of Brunswick, who has been at Ve­nice a Week, but on Monday next he leaves us entirely. This Time he has spent most of his leisure Hours with our Resident, and expresses great Pleasure in being received on an intimate and easy Footing; he is really a very sensible and agreeable Man, and as far as can be judged from outward Appearance, is very amiable: he has with him two young German Barons, who are also very pretty Kind [Page 237] of Men, and speak English so well, that it is a Comfort to hear them.

My Brother desires me to present his best Respects to you, and I hope my dear nominal Uncle will always be mindful to say for me to the dear Society every Thing that is kind, grateful, and affectionate.

My Vanity will not suffer me to pass over in Silence a Conquest that I am told I have certainly made, of an Italian Count, who is here in a public Character; he is not quite sixty, his Figure and Complexion exactly re­sembles a very bad, long, thin Tallow-Candle; he is much bedaubed with Spanish Snuff, and on meagre Days so overcomes one with Gar­lick, that it is dreadful; except these little Accidents, he is a most agreeable Companion, for he is very sensible, very religious, very philosophic, extremely polite, and his Conver­sation is both instructive and amusing. Now, my good Friend, from the Picture I have drawn, would you not think I was in some Danger of losing my Heart, but that luckily [Page 238] my amiable Count is a bigotted Roman Ca­tholic, and I an obstinate Heretick?

We may give ourselves what Airs we please about our English Liberty, but for the Ladies, Italy is undoubtedly the Land of perfect Free­dom; to all public Places, they constantly go in Pairs, with their Cavalier Serventes, and put me much in Mind of the clean and unclean Beasts going into the Ark. What would be­come of the Reputation of a miserable English Woman, if she was to go to the Play with a Man tête-à-tête? And yet that is constantly done here without Imputation of Wrong—In short, if a Woman has any Mind to be wicked, Venice seems to be the last Place in the World to give her better Sentiments.

How delighted should I be to surprize the dear Society, some Night or other, when you are over your sober Game of Quadrille, in my white Masque and Man's Hat; you have no Notion with what an Air I have learnt to put it over my right Eye. I will not de­spair but that we may again meet happily under that hospitable Roof, where for some [Page 239] Weeks, in the Enjoyment of such friendly Conversation, I tasted more real Happiness and Peace than I ever experienced before or since in my whole Life. I did not know, be­fore I had the melancholy Experience of it, how very irksome and painful a Feel it is, to be so very far from those we truly regard. Adieu! my dear Friends, may Heaven shower upon you all its choicest Blessings, is the sin­cere and constant Prayer of your ever faithful and affectionate

THE only Task you enjoined me on lea­ving England, is, perhaps, the most dif­ficult you could have exacted from me; never­theless, I am resolved to attempt it; for, how­ever you may be disappointed in my Perfor­mance, I shall, at least, have the Satisfaction [Page 240] of proving, that I chearfully obey any Com­mand of yours, and though surrounded with Difficulties, I enter upon the Performance of my Promise with Courage; well knowing, from the Candour of your Disposition, that you will accept of an earnest Desire on my Part to gratify your laudable Curiosity, in Lieu of greater Abilities for such an Undertaking.

I am not surprised, that a Person of your speculative Turn should feel an earnest Desire to be made acquainted with some Particulars relative to the wise and complicated Govern­ment of the Republic of Venice; it justly merits the Attention of the sensible and curious Part of Mankind, were it only to discover by what Means it has been preserved nearly in the same State, for such a Number of Ages; but it is hardly possible to arrive with Certainty at this Knowledge; for there is no Subject the Vene­tians are so tenacious of conversing upon as Politicks, profound Secrecy being the great Engine on which this very singular Govern­ment turns. I find one must not depend too much on the Accounts of those who have written upon the Subject, for after allowing [Page 241] the utmost to their Integrity and Industry, they must have been often liable to Misinfor­mation, besides the unavoidable Change that Time naturally produces in all sublunary Things. I have now lying before me a Hi­story of the Republic, by AMELOT DE LA HOUSSAI, one by ST. DISDIER, and another by the ABBÉE LANGIER, of a much later Date; and I shall freely transcribe from these Authors, in as succinct a Manner as possible, all such Passages as coincide with the present State of Things: but the most pleasing As­sistant I promise myself is, Mr. SMITH, who has been settled in this City a great Number of Years, and was formerly the British Con­sul; he is now retired from Business, and de­votes his Time to the Study and Encourage­ment of the polite Arts, of which he is a li­beral Protector; he is, at present, appointed Chargé d'Affaires, by our Court, till the Ar­rival of Sir JAMES WRIGHT, who succeeds the present Ambassador at Constantinople in the Residentship of Venice. I am sorry the new Minister is not expected during my Stay here, for, as I am told, he has spent some Time in this Capital, when upon his Travels in a pri­vate [Page 242] Character. Under his Auspices, I might, perhaps, with more Ease, have pursued my Researches. Mr. SMITH is an intelligent, sensi­ble Man, and preserves, in a very advanced Age, a Degree of Politeness, Vivacity and Good-Humour, rarely to be met with, which renders his Conversation as pleasing as it is instructive. This Gentleman is married to the Sister of Mr. MURRAY, the late Resident, a very amiable Woman; their House is open every Evening to the English, in the most easy, agreeable Manner, where I have infinite Plea­sure in talking over, in a polite chearful Cir­cle, the Virtù that has engaged my Attention in the Morning; but through this Correspon­dence, I shall not prophane my favourite Sub­ject, by introducing it with the dry one, your Curiosity has led me to.

As ST. DISDIER is my favourite Writer on the State of Venice, I shall begin with his Account of the Origin of this City, but must first endeavour to make you acquainted with the Lagunes, (or Lakes) which I look upon to be the great Sources of Health and Plea­sure, to the Venetians, as well as the Means [Page 243] by which all their Wants are supplied; nothing can be more delicious, than the Airings the Nobility take on these Lakes during the Sum­mer Season, sometimes attended with a Barge filled with Musicians, and often tête-à-tête with their Cicisbeo, in a Gondola, which is an easy and luxurious Conveyance. The Lagunes are formed by a strong Bank of Sand, at the En­trance of the Gulph, which extends from South to West about thirty-six Miles, and is about six Hundred Feet in Breadth; the Sea, ha­ving broke through the Bank in six different Places, has covered with Water all the low Land for seven or eight Miles, leaving a Num­ber of small Islands, upon which are built the Towns of the Lagunes. The six Passages above­mentioned, are the only Ports by which Ves­sels can approach to Venice. First, that of Brondolo, to the South; secondly, Chiosa, (an episcopal City;) thirdly, Malamocco; fourthly, Lido, (opposite to the East Point of Venice;) fifthly, St. Erasmus, and sixthly, the three Ports; by this last, only the small fishing Barks can pass.

[Page 244]In the Year 407, the Goths, under the Com­mand of RADAGAISUS, having broke like a Torrent into Italy, put all the Inhabitants to the Sword, who attempted to oppose their Fury; the People who were situated near the Lagunes (I have above described) found no Asylum so secure as those maritime Isles, the most Part of which were only inhabited by Fishermen: here the Fugitives remained in Safety, until the Ge­nerals, sent by the Emperor HONORIUS, (having defeated the Barbarians) left the affrighted Wan­derers at Liberty to return to the Terra Firma. In the Year 413, the horrible Ravages com­mitted by the Visigoths, under ALARICK, made the same People a second Time seek their for­mer Retreat; and as these Invaders staid longer in Italy than those led by RADAGAISUS, the Fugitives began to build themselves comforta­ble Habitations on these Islands. The Paduans, to whom these Isles belonged, had a Port at that of Rialto, (now called Venice) and the Senate having resolved to make it a conside­rable Place, not only by Way of Asylum for their Subjects, but also to secure their Trade by Sea, sent, in the Year 441, three Consuls, who proclaimed it a free Port, so that in a [Page 245] short Time it was peopled, not only by those who retired to the Islands for Safety, but by many Persons of all Ranks, who left the Terra Firma to settle there. The third Undertaking of the Barbarians, under ATTILA, King of the Huns, threatened Italy with total Desolation; that Scourge of the Almighty, as he was justly denominated, having caused Germany, France, and Italy, to be laid Waste, returned in the Year 453 a second Time into the last-named Country, and destroyed Pavia, Milan, Padua, Aquilea, and many other great Towns, the miserable Remains of whose Inhabitants finish­ed the Peopling not only of Rialto, but all the other Isles of the Lagunes; and entertain­ing no Hope of returning to their ruined Ci­ties, they caused to be transported from the Terra Firma, Marble, and other Materials of their demolished Palaces; so that, in the Space of about fifty Years, not only the People of Rank, but even the Artizans, were conve­niently lodged. Padua being at length re-esta­blished, and seeing Rialto become considerable, by the Number of its Inhabitants, the Senate thought proper to send Consuls to govern the People, with some Appearance of Authority; [Page 246] but in Time the richest and most powerful of the Inhabitants of these Isles got themselves declared Protectors of the People, with the Title of Tribunes. In the Year 709, the Tri­bunes of the twelve most considerable Islands of the Lagunes, judging it necessary to have a better Form of Government, resolved to com­pose a Republic, and to elect a proper Person from among themselves to be their Chief or Prince; but as they knew they had no Right to take this Step against the Will of the Pa­duans, to whom they were indebted for the Place of their Residence, they sent an Ambas­sy to the Emperor LEO, who was Sovereign of the whole Country, and to Pope JOHN the Fifth, to obtain their Permission to elect a Prince, to whom they gave the Title of Doge. PAOLO LUCE ANAFESTE, the first Duke of Venice, was elected 288 Years after Rialto was proclaimed a free Port by the Paduans. This Election was made at Ereclea, a Town of the Lagunes, in the Year 709; at this Place, the first three Doges resided. These Princes ruled with absolute Power till 1172, when, upon the Election of SEBASTIAN ZIANI, the Form of Government became democratical, and [Page 247] continued so till 1289, when the Doge, PIETRO GRADENIGO, found Means to change it to an Aristocracy; this he effected by getting a De­cree passed in the Quarantia Criminale, that all those who had composed the great Council for four Years, should be ballotted for in that Chamber of Justice, and such of them who had twelve Balls in their Favour, and who attended the Council on a certain Day, at an appointed Hour, should have their Names written in a Book, called Il Libro d'Oro, and that they and their Descendants should form the great Council forever. As this Intrigue was managed with much Secrecy, none had Notice to attend, but those whom the Doge and his Party approved of, or who had Friends in the Quarantia. When this chosen Number were assembled, at the Ringing of a Bell, the Doors were locked, and no more suffered to enter. This the Venetians call ‘" Il Serrar del Cansiglio,"’ and is one of the most remark­able Epochas of their Government: though this Step wrested all Share of the Administra­tion out of the Hands of the Citizens, and unjustly deprived some Families of their Ti­tle to Nobility, yet it was owing to this Event, [Page 248] that the Republic established a more perfect Form of Government than she before enjoyed, and which continues, with very little Change, to this Day. BAYAMONTE TIEPOLI, the Head of one of the most antient Families of the Republic, joined the Quirini, and some other illustrious Persons, in a Conspiracy to sacrifice the Doge to their Resentment, for this Innova­tion; but all the Conspirators perished in the Enterprise, and this Attempt only occasioned fresh Regulations, which more securely establish­ed the new Form of Government.

Accept of thus much, by Way of Intro­duction to a Sketch of the present State of the Republic of Venice, and in my next, I shall have the Honour to introduce you to SUA SERENITA, the Doge, but at present the Post will only allow me Time to assure you how sincerely I am

I Promised in my last to introduce you to the Doge of Venice, and I think you will agree with me, that his Serenity is a very uncomfortable Being. Since the Period of Il Serrar del Consiglio, his Power has gra­dually decreased. A Procurator of St. Mark is generally elected Prince, who has ser­ved the Republic in expensive Embassies, or in the first Offices of the State. Although he has the Name of Sovereign, the Power remains with the Senate; and having little Influence in the Affairs of the State, great Wisdom is by no Means an essential Recom­mendation to this high Rank; an advanced Age, an easy Disposition, and illustrious Birth, are the Qualifications chiefly sought for in the Doge; his Children, Grand-Children, and Bro­thers are disqualified from holding any consi­derable [Page 250] Employment connected with Govern­ment during his Reign. His Wife was for­merly treated en Princesse, and crowned with great Magnificence, but that custom is now exploded; however, she still retains the Title of Dogeressa. Though the Doge presides at all the Councils, he is only acknowledged Head of the Senate, at the Tribunals, and in the Palace of St. Mark. He cannot leave the City without the previous Leave of his Coun­sellors; he is allowed no Marks of Distinction in his Dress or Equipage when he makes pri­vate Visits, or leaves the City, except that his Family are suffered to use Gold or Silver Lace on their Liveries, and in the Ornaments of their Box at the Theatre; and the Ladies wear rich coloured Cloaths at public Festivals, when the Pragmatica obliges the other noble Venetians to appear in black. Upon public Occasions, his Serenity generally wears a Vest and Ducal Mantle of Brocade of Gold or Silver, lined with Ermine, a Cap of Crimson Velvet, with a Border of Gold, to represent the Diadem, and under it a short Hood of Gauze, and Shoes of Crimson Damask. The Sword of State is carried after the Prince, and [Page 251] at the Head of the Seignory, to shew where the real Power is lodged. A folding Chair, with a gilt Frame, and a Seat of Brocade, with a Stool of the same to set his Foot on, and a large Parisole of Gold Stuff, are car­ried with the Doge in all public Processions, and they pretend that this Regalia was pre­sented to the famous SEBASTIAN ZIANI by Pope ALEXANDER the Third, in acknowledg­ment of the Protection he received from the Republic, when oppressed by the Emperor FREDERICK the Second. The Doge has the Title of Serenity and Serene Prince, but to shew that they are not attached to his Person alone, Ambassadors use them in his Absence in addressing the College. Though all Dis­patches are written in the Name of the Prince, and the Answers addressed to him, yet he can­not open them without the Members of the Col­lege being present, whereas they can open, and even answer them, without his being present; and to shew that his Power and Influence is merely imaginary, the Senate neither propose any Ques­tion, or take any Resolution, till he and his Counsellors are withdrawn; they then examine the Affairs under Debate, take the Advice of [Page 252] the Savi, and prepare their Deliberations in Writing, to be carried to the first Meeting of the Senate, where the Doge and his Coun­sellors are present, who have a Voice to ap­prove or disapprove in common with the other Senators. The Venetian Money bears the Name of the Doge, and was formerly stamped as his Coin, when the Power of the Prince was absolute; at present is substituted the Figure of a Man in the Ducal Habit on his Knees before St. Mark, to shew that the Doge is subject to the Republic, of which St. Mark is the Hieroglyphic. The Income of the Prince is fourteen thousand Ducats per Annum, (which amounts to about two thousand Pounds ster­ling) to maintain his Family, and to defray the Expence of treating the Seignory four Times a Year. The foreign Ambassadors, who have made their public Entry, have a Right to be at these Feasts. The Republic pay all the Officers who attend the Prince on public Occasions: he has the Power of selling the dif­ferent Employments of the Palace, in which, and collating the Benefices of St. Mark, con­sist the principal Emoluments of his Dignity.

[Page 253]When the Doge dies, his Body is embalmed, and exposed for three Days on a Bed of State, in an Apartment of the Palace destined for that Purpose. This Exposition is not only to give the People an Opportunity to pay the last Honours to their Prince, but also to give the Senate Time to receive any Complaints against his Administration, and to give his Creditors Leisure to make their Demands on his Heirs, which if they refuse to satisfy, he is deprived of funeral Honours at the Ex­pence of the Republic: for this Reason, on the Death of a Doge, three Inquisitors are appointed to search into his past Conduct, to hear all Complaints, and to satisfy all Demands at the Expence of the Succession. The No­bles who assist at the Funeral, are dressed in Scarlet Robes, to shew that it is not the Go­vernment of the Prince that causes the Hap­piness of the State, and that the Republic being free, ought not to shew any Marks of Affliction at his Death. The Obsequies are no sooner over, than all the Nobles, who are more than thirty Years of Age, assemble in the great Council-Chamber, and elect five Cor­rectors, [Page 254] who inspect the Book of Statutes that the Doge, on his Election, swears to observe. These five Noblemen have a Right to add to, or to retrench from these Statutes, what­ever they think necessary for the Good of the State. The Ballotation upon this Occasion is managed with so much Caution, that it is im­possible for any Thing but Chance to decide which shall be the forty-one Senators chose out of the whole Number to elect a Successor to the deceased Prince. When these Electors have been approved by the general Council, they are shut up in the Palace of St. Mark, and not suffered to stir out until the Election is over; twenty-five of the forty-one Voices must be in Favour of the Person that is chosen. The first Thing required of the Doge is, to swear to the Observance of the Book of Sta­tutes. He then shews himself to the People, and in going out of the Palace for that Pur­pose, passes through the Chamber in which his Body is to be exposed after his Death, and there he receives from the Grand Chancellor the first Compliments on his new Dignity. He then gets into a Machine, not unlike a great Tub, and two hundred Men, who belong to [Page 255] the Arsenal, carry him by Turns round the Place of St. Mark on their Shoulders. The Doge thus seated, one of his Children, or some near Relation, stands behind him, holding two Basons filled with Money, which he distributes among the Populace.

Having killed one Prince, and proclaimed another, I think I may decently take my Leave for the present; and should you be as tired with reading, as I am with writing, you will wish you had never heard of his Serenity. I hope you will think my next more interesting, which will treat of the different Councils of Venice.

HAVING in my last dispatched his Sere­nity the Doge, I now proceed with Ala­crity to give you an Account of the Coun­cils, of which, according to AMELOT DE LA HOUSSAIE, there are three principal; the great one, which comprehends all the Nobility; the College, which gives Audience to Am­bassadors; and the Pregadi, which is the Se­nate. The Great-Council meets every Sunday and Holiday to chuse Magistrates, which is done by Ballotation. The Nobles have no Right to enter into it, until they are twenty-five Years old, but the Seignory dispense some­times with their being under Age. This As­sembly has a Right of confirming or annulling the Decrees of the Senate, and to make or repeal Laws. The most remarkable standing Laws are these, viz. that all Ecclesiastics are [Page 257] excluded from every civil Employment and public Assembly. The Nobles cannot arrive at the principal Offices, but by Gradation; nor can they hold more than one Office at once, be it ever so small. Those who refuse any Employment, are fined two thousand Du­cats, and banished for two Years from the Great Council and Broglio; (this Name they give to an Apartment under the Procuratia Nuova, where the Noblemen meet in a Mor­ning, and those who are trying to attain any Place in the Government, use this Opportu­nity to solicit the Votes of their Friends for their Ballotation in the Great Council.) No Magistrate can resign, or leave the City. All the Sons of the Nobility have equal Portions: if a Daughter has more than five thousand Ducats, (about six hundred Pounds sterling) she receives the Income of the Overplus for her own separate Use, and if she dies without Chil­dren, it returns to her Family. All Subjects of the Republic (the Doge not excepted) pay Taxes in Proportion to their Fortune. The Magistrates in civil Causes can receive no Vi­sits or Recommendation of the Parties, but may in criminal ones, if they are not State [Page 258] Affairs. No Nobleman can enter into Trade. The Great Council corrects all public Errors, and redresses all Grievances imposed by those who use their Authority unlawfully, so that this may be called the first Tribunal, and the Basis, as well as Support of the Republic.

To gratify the young Nobility, they admit thirty by Lot every Year into the Great Coun­cil, who are only twenty Years of Age, and allow them the same Privileges as those who are twenty-five; these young ones are called Barbarini, because they are chosen on the Day of St. BARBARA. This Assembly sits from eight in the Morning until Noon; it is held in the largest Room of the Palace: at the upper End are raised Seats, on which the Doge and his Counsellors are placed. The Chief of the Council of Ten, the Avoga­dores and the Censors are seated round the Hall, upon raised Benches. The Counsellors of the Doge can convoke, at Pleasure, the Great Council, and for this Purpose they cause the Bells of the principal Churches in the six Quar­ters of the Town to be rung, and at this Sig­nal, the Nobles attend the Council without [Page 259] Arms, which they are forbid to carry there on Pain of Death.

When AMELOT DE LA HOUSSAIE wrote his History of the Republic of Venice, the No­bles were computed at five and twenty Hun­dred; but they now fall very short of that Calculation. The Great Council usually con­sists of about eight hundred, and nearly the same Number is supposed to be employed in the Provinces, on Embassies, and other public Services; or, for private Reasons, are not in a Situation to attend in Council.

THE COLLEGE.

THE College is formed of twenty-six Mem­bers, viz. The Doge and his six Counsellors, three of the Quarantia Criminale, (who are changed every two Months) six Savi Grandi, five of the Savi of the Terra Firma, and the five Savi of Order. The College has the Right of assembling the Senate, and propo­sing what is to be debated therein; but yet they must obey its Resolutions, and act in [Page 260] Concert with it. At this Tribunal the Maje­sty of the Prince may be said to reside, for here the Ambassadors have their Audience, all Letters upon foreign Affairs are read, all Me­morials are presented, and all Privileges, in Regard to Benefices, Prelates, &c. &c. are pleaded. In short, this is the Committee of Ways and Means, where all Business is first planned, in order to be laid before the Senate for their Concurrence.

THE SENATE.

THE Senate had formerly the Name of Pregadi given to it, because it then never as­sembled but upon extraordinary Occasions; and the Magistrates were obliged to request the Attendance of the principal Citizens, when any important Affair required their Advice. This Assembly now meets every Wednesday and Fri­day, and, upon an Emergency, the Savi for the Week can call an extraordinary Pregadi. This Tribunal possesses all the Authority of the Republic, for here all Resolutions con­cerning Peace and War are taken, all Leagues [Page 261] and Alliances are made, Ambassadors and also Officers who have considerable Rank in the Army are nominated, and all Taxes are imposed according to the Exigency of Affairs. The Consultations of the College are here examin­ed and determined by a Plurality of Voices. This Institution in its Commencement was only composed of sixty Senators, called an ordinary Pregadi; but being often obliged, in Cases of Importance, to add to the Number, sixty more were created, called the Junto: these hundred and twenty Senators are always No­blemen of advanced Age and approved Merit. The Members of the College, the Council of Ten, the Quarantia Criminale, the Procurators of St. Mark, with most Part of the Magi­strates, enter also into the Pregadi, so that it now consists of near three hundred Members, one Part whereof have a Right to vote, the rest can only hearken and learn the Rules of Government. The Doge and his Counsellors are the only Persons whose Advice can be bal­lotted, to prevent the Confusion that would probably arise from a Diversity of Opinions, as half the Votes must be in Favour of the Ques­tion before it can pass. Those who have no [Page 262] Right to vote, may harangue and contradict the Opinions proposed. The hundred and twenty, who compose the ordinary Pregadi and Junto, are ballotted every Year in the Great Council, to be changed or continued, as shall be de­termined in the said Council. The Senate is particularly attentive in maintaining Harmony among the Nobles; well knowing, that a con­trary Behaviour might be productive of fatal Consequences to the Liberty of the Country, as was formerly the Case with Florence and Verona.

The COUNSELLORS of the DOGE.

THE Counsellors of the Doge (or more pro­perly of the Signory) are six in Number, they are chosen from amongst the oldest Senators of the first Rank; though they are Counsel­lors for a Year, they only assist in the Col­lege eight Months; the other four Months they preside in the Quarantia Criminale, in the same Manner as the Chiefs of that Chamber have places in the College during two Months. These six Counsellors have more Power than the Doge; [Page 263] their Employment is two-fold: first, they are obliged to consult with the Doge upon all Matters that are to be proposed in the Coun­cils, to open all Letters directed to the Sig­nory, to receive Petitions, and to appoint Judges to settle any Dispute which may arise about Jurisdiction; and secondly, to preside at all Councils, and, during an Interregnum, to dis­patch Orders to all the Officers of the State. When the Doge is ill, the most antient of the Counsellors represent him in the College, and at all public Functions: but he is nei­ther allowed to sit in the ducal Chair, or wear the Habit of the Prince, and is only distinguished by a Cap which he never takes off, no more than the Doge does his ducal Crown. The Counsellors, whilst in Office, wear scarlet Gowns.

As I shall, in my next, introduce you to a Tribunal so awful, that the bare Name makes thousands tremble, I shall allow myself some Respite for the present, and endeavour to lose the Idea of these dry intricate Subjects in the more pleasing ones of Virtù.

[Page 264]You will excuse my breaking off thus, when I tell you, that my Gondola now waits to carry me to a dilletanti Party, with whom I am going to examine the famous Marriage of PAOLO VERONESE, at the Convent of St. George. It so rarely happens, that our Plea­sures in the Enjoyment equal the Vivacity of our Expectation, I almost fear I promise myself too much on this Occasion; but if this celebrated Piece deserves half the Encomiums that are bestowed upon it, my Delight will be exqui­site: I heartily wish you could be a Partaker of it.

Farewel.

I Promised, in my last, to introduce you to the most tremendous Tribunal, that, per­haps, ever poor Culprits trembled before, if we view it in its original State: but I think all the sensible People, I have conversed with in Venice, agree, that it is somewhat relaxed, from its primitive Severity, though still to be dreaded for the Extent of Power, the Inqui­sitors of State are entrusted with.

The INQUISITION.

THIS Tribunal is composed of two of the Council of Ten, and one of the Counsellors of the Doge. As the Affairs, that fall under the Cognizance thereof are of the utmost Conse­quence to the State, depending chiefly upon cer­tain Intelligences collected by Spies, so all their Proceedings are managed with the deepest Se­crecy; and, in some Cases, they are obliged [Page 266] to use Severity, and to punish Offenders in a very exemplary Manner, The Life of the Doge, the Nobles, and all the Subjects of the State, lie at the Mercy of this Tribunal, pro­vided the three Inquisitors entirely concur in Opinion; and in this Case, they are not obliged to give an Account of their Actions to any one, or even communicate them to the Coun­cil of Ten. The Execution of the Sentences pronounced by these Judges is not less se­cret than their Judgments, except when the Crime is of a public Nature: in private Cases, to prevent Exclamations against such seeming Severity, as often punishes with Death an un­guarded Expression against so rigorous a Go­vernment, (it is said) they send in the Night, and have the Offender seized, and pronounce his Doom, without any other Ceremony, than confronting him with two Witnesses, if there are any, or else, on the bare Report of Spies. As many Inconveniencies have arisen from this despotic Method of Proceeding, a Law has been provided, that the Inquisitors shall not put to Death a noble Venetian, without first hearing his Defence. If a Stranger of any Consequence becomes suspected by this Tri­bunal, [Page 267] he must expect to lose his Papers, and receive an Order, signed by one of the Inqui­sitors, requiring him to leave the State within a limited Time, on Pain of Death. As the Venetian Nobility, of every Class, are forbid to hold any Sort of Correspondence with Am­bassadors, or foreign Ministers, or even with the meanest Person in their Families, it is for this Intent, that the Spies of the Inquisitors are particularly vigilant in collecting Matter of Complaint.

Harsh as the Proceedings of this Tribunal must appear to Englishmen, who are blessed with the happiest Form of Government, the sensible and unprejudiced MONTESQUIEU as­serts, that it has often saved the Republic of Venice from total Destruction.

The COUNCIL OF TEN.

THIS was orignally, a mere temporary Cham­ber of Justice, appointed to enquire into the famous Conspiracy of TIEPOLI: but was soon after made perpetual, and is now one of the [Page 268] most respectable Tribunals of the Republic; it takes Cognizance of all the criminal Affairs among the Nobility, that happen in the City, or State of Venice, and judges Crimes of Leze Majesté, and all other attrocious Offences. This Council has the Care of the public Tranqui­lity, and their Power is as much to be dreaded by the Nobles, as by the common People. The Doge and his Counsellors have a Right to enter this Chamber of Justice; but the ten Senators, of whom it is composed, have not less Power in the Absence of the Doge, than when he is present: they are chosen out of diffe­rent Families, and are elected in the Great Coun­cil every Year; they then elect three among themselves to be the Head of the Councils; these rule Week about, and are changed every three Months. The Chief in Office receives all Informations from Spies, and reports them to his Colleagues, who, upon the Deposition of Witnesses, and the Answers of the accused, proceed against them before the Council, where the Offender is not allowed to plead for him­self personally, or by Lawyer. The armed Galley that always lies at St. Mark's Place, and some Cannon and Gallies at the Arsenal, [Page 269] are under the Command of the Council of Ten. They meet only once a Week, unless some Affair of Importance calls them oftener together.

The QUARANTIA CRIMINALE.

THERE are three Courts of Justice, that con­sist each of forty Judges; the first of these is the most antient Tribunal of the Republic, but it has suffered a great Diminution of Power by the Establishment of the Council of Ten. The forty Judges of the upper Chamber have a Right to vote in the Senate; and the three Chiefs, who are Presidents, have likewise Seats in the College, during the two last Months they are in Office; and three of the Counsellors of the Doge preside in the Quarantia Criminale, the four last Months of their Year, to shew the Connexion there is between this Chamber and the College. This Office is generally filled by Noblemen who are not rich; they receive thirty Ducats per Month by it, and acquire Consi­deration among the Nobility. To arrive at this Chamber, they must pass through the [Page 270] other Quarantias first, which are much infe­rior in Authority. Besides these, there are many other lower Courts of Justice that take Cognizance of mercantile Affairs, Bankrupt­cies, &c. &c. It is worthy of Observation, in this wise and intricate Government, how all the superior Tribunals are interwoven with, and, if I may use the Expression, germinate from, each other.

SAVI GRANDI.

THESE Magistrates are six in Number; they are chosen from among the wisest of the Senators, and, during the Time they are in office, manage all political Affairs of Impor­tance, and are, properly speaking, prime Mi­nisters: they are elected by the Senate, and changed every six Months, three at a Time, by which Means, there remain three old Se­nators in Office, who are able to inform the new elected ones, of what happened during their Administration, and serves as a model for the future Conduct of the new Ministers.

[Page 271] SAVI of the TERRA FIRMA.

THESE five Officers of the State have little less Authority in the College than the Savi Grandi; they are the same Length of Time in Office, are chosen of a less advanced Age, and are preferred according to their Applica­tion, and the Abilities they have shewn in the Offices they must necessarily have passed through to arrive at this. The first, or Savi Cashier, is Pay-Master; the second, Savi degli Scritura, Se­cretary at War, and the third, Savi of the Or­dinance, has the Direction of the Military of the Terra Firma; the other two are only to assist the three first. They are elected by the Senate, as the Savi Grandi, and have a Right to vote on every Motion, which may be pro­posed by them; but, to preserve a Subordina­tion between the two Offices, have no Right to vote in the Senate.

SAVI of ORDER.

THIS Magistracy is the same in Number as the Savi of the Terra Firma, but is with­out [Page 272] Jurisdiction, and is only a School, as it were, wherein the young Nobility may learn the Art of Government. These Noblemen, during the six Months they are in Office, assist at all the Consultations of the College, and conse­quently have a Share in the Secrets of State; they have no Right to vote either in the Col­lege or Senate, but may give their Opinion at the Consultations of the Savi, always speak­ing uncovered and standing. They are allowed to see all the Dispatches that are sent to Am­bassadors, and the Registers of the Affairs of State. This Employment is looked upon by the Republic, as the Touchstone of the Cha­racter and Genius of their young Nobility.

PROCURATORS of ST. MARK.

THIS Honour is generally bestowed on such of the Nobility who have been of essential Ser­vice to their Country in expensive Embassies, in a naval Command, or for having gone through the most important Employments of the State with Honour and Integrity. The Procurators take Place of all the other Nobi­lity; [Page 273] they have the Disposal of all pious Le­gacies, are the Guardians of Orphans, and Protectors of Widows. The Number was for­merly confined to nine, but is now encreased to eleven. In pressing Necessities of the Re­public, this Dignity has been sold for immense Sums; but, except in Cases of public Distress, it can only be disposed of by Merit; and those who purchase it never have any Succes­sors appointed when they die. Their Dress is a purple Robe. The magnificent Buildings on each Side of St. Mark's Place, were ori­ginally destined for the Habitation of the Pro­curators, and from thence called Procuratias; but they are now chiefly rented to Strangers and foreign Ministers, by Way of Casinos.

The GRAND CHANCELLOR.

THIS Dignity can only be enjoyed by a Person of the Rank of Citizen; he takes Place of all the other Magistrates, and wears a pur­ple Robe, like the Procurators of St. Mark. All the Councils are open to him; he holds the Seal of the Republic, and assists at read­ing [Page 274] and answering the Dispatches from Am­bassadors, and every Thing else material that is treated of in the Senate. He has the Ti­tle of Excellenza, and is the Head of the Peo­ple, as the Doge is of the Nobility. His In­come is about nine thousand Ducats per An­num. He is buried with great Pomp, at the Expence of the Republic.

The AVOGADORES.

THIS Office resembles, in Part, that of Attorney-General in England, but is divided among three People; the greatest Instance of its Power is, being able, for the Space of three Days, to suspend the Judgment of all the other Courts of Justice, when the Crime is not clearly proved upon the Culprit. In this Particular, the Avogador resembles the Ro­man Tribunes of the People. They are elected by the Senate, but the Choice must be con­firmed by the Grand Council, where all Pro­ceedings would be null, if one of the Avo­gadores did not assist. Their Dress, when in Office, is a purple Robe.

[Page 275]The TWO CENSORS.

THE Jurisdiction of the Censors extends principally to the Manners of particular Per­sons; to the Intrigues of the Nobles in the Broglio; to the Condemnation and Fining of those who violate the Statutes of the Great Council; to the Payment of Wages, Pilfering of Servants, and Correction of Gondaliers. They are sixteen Months in Office; during which Term, they have a Right to vote in the Pre­gadi, and wear purple Gowns.

I have extended this beyond the common Bounds of a Letter, and find that by so doing, I have lost Half an Hour of an agreeable Conversation, where I am engaged this Even­ing, so shall only add, that I am sincerely

P. S. I am obliged to one of my Gonda­liers, a clever, intelligent Fellow, for remind­ing me, that it is past the Hour of my En­gagement; [Page 276] and here let me do Justice to this numerous Body of People, by saying, they are one of the most respectable Societies I have any where heard of, for their Honesty and Fi­delity to the Master they engage themselves to.

WITH your Leave, my good Friend, I am going to engage you in a little Trip to the Terra Firma, in Order to intro­duce you to the Podestàs and Capitanios, a Set of Gentlemen of no small Consequence, I as­sure you, in their respective Governments.

To the greater Towns of the Terra Firma, the Senate send two Noblemen, with the Ti­tles of Podestà and Capitanio; these equally re­present the Republic, the first in the Admi­nistration [Page 277] of civil Justice, the second in the Command of Military Affairs. The Podestà is the principal Person, as he takes Cognizance of all that regards the Police, and the good Order of the People. The Capitanio, besides the Command of the Troops, has Power to punish the Inhabitants for any Crime com­mitted in the Streets, during the Course of the Night. He has also the Care of the public Money, which is collected by Receivers, who are accountable to him for it. The Podestàs and Capitanios are obliged to report to the Senate every Measure they take. To the Ca­pitals of Provinces are generally sent both the above-mentioned Officers; but in Towns of small Importance, the two Offices are united in the Person of the Podestà, who holds his Employment sixteen Months. The Appoint­ments allowed them by the Republic are very small, in Comparison to what they are obli­ged to spend in the Capitals, therefore to them the Senate generally sends rich Noblemen, and poor ones to the small Towns, where, not being obliged to make an expensive Appear­ance, they may, if they please, gain a com­fortable [Page 278] Subsistence by their Post, during the Time they are employed in it.

A Nobleman of the first Rank is always sent into the Frioul, with the Title of Provedi­tore-General of Palma Nova; this Place is of great Consequence to the Venetians, as it serves for a Frontier to the Emperor's Dominions, and is a strong Barrier against the Incursions of the Turks. At Udeney, where the Patriarch of Aqui­lia resides, the Republic employs only a Lieu­tenant and some Subalterns. In Istria are four episcopal Towns, with five others not so con­siderable, each of them governed by a Podestà. The Commanding-Officers of these Places, as well as those of the Levant and Dalmatia, are changed only once in two Years. The Senate gives the Title of Counts, Governors, and Captains, to the Noblemen who are sent into Dalmatia to administer Justice. The Ma­gistrates of the principal Towns, (for Exam­ple, the Counts of Spalatro and Gara, who are likewise Archbishops) have appointed to them a Council of three noble Venetians, with­out whom they cannot determine on any Thing; but all these Officers are subject to the Prove­ditore-General, [Page 279] who has full Authority in all Affairs civil and military. The Isles of Cor­fuzant and Cephalonia, are each governed by a Proveditore, assisted by a Council of three noble Venetians. Corfu is a Place of great Importance, as it commands the Entrance of the Gulph, and is the Repository of the Ve­netian Merchandize brought from the Levant; this Place is regarded by the Turks with a jealous Eye. There is also a General of these three Isles, to whom the particular Proveditores render Obedience, as the Magistrates of the Towns in Dalmatia do to the Proveditore-Ge­neral.

INQUISITORS of the TERRA FIRMA.

EVERY five Years, Inquisitors are sent to hold Courts in the several Provinces of the Terra Firma; their Business is to inspect into the Conduct of Podestàs and Capitanios, and to receive all Complaints of Mal-administra­tion of Justice. Their Censures are seldom severe, but when there are Proofs of Embez­zlement of the public Money, and in that [Page 280] Case, their Office obliges them to act with the utmost Rigour. They are attended by a Com­pany of Cavalry, and an Executioner, that they may punish on the Spot all Offences that are clearly proved. This gives the Provin­cials a very high Idea of the Justice of the Venetian Government.

The MAGISTRATES of POMP.

Gli Sopre Proveditore alle Pompe, are Sena­tors, who by strict Ordinances suppress all out­ward Marks of Luxury, and preserve an exact Equality, in the exterior Appearance of the Nobility. At public Feasts, the Dress of the Ladies is always black, except on some Oc­casions, when they are allowed to wear a rich gold or silver Stuff Petticoat with their black Gowns. The noble Venetians are not suffered to use gold or silver Lace on their Boatmen's Liveries, or in their Boxes at the Theatres, except the Doge's Family and the Grand Chan­cellor's. In Masking-Time, the Ladies may wear rich coloured Cloaths, which is about six Months in the Year; and when they are [Page 281] at their Estates on the Terra Firma, they may give as rich Liveries as they choose, but the Servants who wear them never attend them at Venice, but in their own Houses.

REVENUES and EXPENCES of the STATE.

THE settled Revenue of the Republic is supposed, at present, according to the best Cal­culation, to amount to about a Million and a Half sterling per Annum; this is raised by Imports and Exports, and Taxes upon all the Provisions consumed in the City of Ve­nice, and upon all Sorts of Merchandizes, and by other Duties raised in the Isles of the La­gunes, and upon all the Estates situated near Venice, called the Dogado or Dutchy. Another Part of the Revenue is raised in the same Manner from the Towns and Provinces of the Terra Firma, and also from Istria, Dalma­tia, and the Isles of Corfu, Zant, and Cepha­lonia. A large Portion likewise arises from the Salt made at Corfu and Chiosa; and to this may be added, twenty thousand Ducats per [Page 282] Month, that are paid into the Coffers of the Republic from a Lottery, on the same Plan as those of Rome and Naples, which has been established within these thirty Years. In Time of War, the Senate finds great Resources by ennobling rich Families, making supernumerary Procurators of St. Mark; by renewing old Taxes, and imposing new ones. The yearly Expences of Government do not require above half the Income of the State, so that in Time of Peace the Republic can lay up vast Sums; by which Means, the Venetians are enabled to negotiate all their Affairs with foreign Powers by the Force of Money instead of Arms.

The FORCES of the REPUBLIC.

IN Time of Peace, the Venetians are sup­posed to pay about twenty-five thousand Men; but there is strong Reason to believe, that not above one third of them are effective, owing to the Abuses of the Proveditores in Dalmatia. The Infantry are chiefly Sclavonians, Morlaques, and Albanians; they are esteemed brave Soldiers, and are firmly attached to the [Page 283] Venetians, from an inveterate Hatred to the Turks, who are their natural Enemies. The Cavalry are partly composed of the same Na­tions, and partly of Ultramontanes. The Ge­neral in Chief must always be a Foreigner, and his Power is so over-ruled by the Pro­veditore-General, that he has only the Name of Commander of the Forces. The chief At­tention of the Senate is paid to the Marine. They have no regular naval Force in Time of Peace; but upon an Emergency, can arm thirty Galleys, able to act against their Ene­mies, in a very expeditious Manner. They always keep some Galleys in the Levant, with other Vessels, to guard the Provinces situated near the Sea; these are under the Command of the Proveditore-General. A Squadron of six Gal­leys, and several other Vessels, are likewise em­ployed to cruize about the Mouth of the Gulph, to secure the Traders from the Corsairs, and to make the Merchants pay their proper Du­ties. The Nobleman who commands this Squa­dron has the Title of General of the Gulph, his Command continues for three Years. The Republic, in Peace as well as in War, creates a Proveditore General, who commands both the [Page 284] Fleet and Army; he has an absolute Power to punish with Death all Officers, Soldiers, and Sailors, and to dispose of all Posts in the Army and Navy; he resides at Corfu the first three Years he is in Office, and when that Time is expired, he is obliged to render an Account of his Administration to the Senate.

SPIES and INFORMERS.

SPIES have ever been looked upon as in­famous Ministers of Tyranny; but the Senate of Venice have found Means to conceal the Shame of such Miscreants, by making Mouths of Stone speak for them; for in many Parts of the Palace of St. Mark, and in all the Parts of the City near the public Tribunals, Heads are cut in the Walls with gaping Mouths, into which they cast the Notes of Information. If the Informer has no Scruple to declare him­self, he goes in Person to receive the Reward allowed by Law on this Occasion; if he does not choose to be known, he sends a Friend, with a Piece of Paper that has been torn from that on which the Information was written, [Page 285] and the Money is paid without any other For­mality than comparing the two Pieces of Pa­per together. As the great Maxim of the Ve­netians is, that the Safety of the State depends upon their having exact Intelligence of every Thing that passes, especially in the Families of Ambassadors and foreign Ministers, it is in­credible what a Number of Spies of all Ranks they keep in constant Pay. That the Vene­tians are often branded with the ridiculous Epithet of Pantaloons, for this apparent My­steriousness in their System of Politics, we very well know; but how far they are right or wrong in it, I leave to better Judgments than mine to determine: this however we must allow, that their Government has subsisted under a re­publican Form, without any material Alteration, for a much longer Period of Time than any other Republic that History furnishes us with an Account of, at least that I can recollect. I had a great Curiosity, when I came to Ve­nice, to learn the Etymology of the Name of Pantaloon, and why it is so particularly applied to the Venetians; I am told it comes from Pianta Leone, and was first appropriated to them for their great Eagerness to plant the [Page 286] Standard of Venice, which you know is a Lion, wherever they could by Force or Fraud ob­tain a Bit of Ground large enough to con­tain it. How far this etymological Account of honest Pantaloon may satisfy you, I know not; but, remember, I do not vouch for the Reality of it, I only offer it to you as I have received it. I propose by the next Post to send you a succinct Account of the Me­thod of proceeding at Venice in criminal Cases, and am, in the mean Time,

AN agreeable Excursion for a few Days into the Country has prevented my being so punctual in my literary Engagement as I have hitherto been; but I make no Aplogy, [Page 287] for I know you never meant it should interfere with my Amusements. Now to proceed with my historical Anecdotes.

PROCEEDINGS in CRIMINAL CASES at VENICE.

WHEN a Crime is supposed to have been committed at Venice, the Courts of Justice are more solicitous to be ascertained of the Fact, than to secure the Offender; and when they have obtained the necessary Proofs, they send an Officer to enter publicly the House of the Criminal; and on the Report of this Officer, that he is not be found, (which is generally the Case) they summon him to ap­pear in a longer or shorter Space of Time, according to the Enormity of the Crime com­mitted, to answer for the Offence, and till that Period is elapsed, the Offender is safe from any Molestation, provided he does not appear on the Place of St. Mark, or on the Rialto; and he may also demand three De­lays, and if he thinks he cannot find Means to prevent the Affair coming to a fatal Issue, [Page 288] he may avoid a Trial, by getting a Noble­man's Boat to convey him to some Part of the Terra Firma, from whence he may easily escape out of the State. Hence it proceeds, that most Criminals at Venice are judged by Contumacy, which they call Bandire: but this Judgment is always accompanied with Condi­tions proportionable to the Crime; for exam­ple, that the condemned Person shall never be able to purchase his Pardon; that whoever kills him in the Venetian State shall receive a considerable Reward, and double the Sum, if they kill him in any other Territory. If the Crime sensibly touches the Republic, they add to the Reward, the Liberty of delivering a State-Prisoner: but notwithstanding this ap­parent great Rigour, there have been Instances of Noblemen who have been guilty of atro­cious Crimes making their Peace, by Means of great Interest. When the Criminal is se­cured, and the Process formed, the Avogador names his own Day, and, conducting the Cul­prit before his Judges, pleads strongly against him, exaggerates every Particular of his Crime, and concludes with advising a severe Punish­ment. The Advocate of the Party accused [Page 289] answers all the chief Points of the Accusa­tion; and when he has performed his Part, the Auditors retire, and the Opinion of the Avogador is balloted against that of the Chiefs of the Quarantia, which is always the most gentle, and the Plurality of Balls determine the Fate of the Offender. By this Means the Judges decide without giving the Reason of their Opinion, and it is consequently un­known who is for, and who is against the Criminal. The Lawyers are obliged to plead in the Venetian Dialect, that the most ignorant Auditor may understand what passes, as well as the more learned Part of the Assembly. The severest Hardship, in the Course of Jus­tice at Venice, is the Length of Time it takes to terminate an Affair, owing to the Courts of Justice being so closely connected, and, if I may be allowed the Expression, playing into each others Hands; so that a poor Wretch is often suffered to lie in Gaol for two or three Years, before he can obtain an hearing, to expiate, as they pretend, by this Punishment, part of his Crime. The frequent Sentences that are passed upon Criminals, condemning them to an horrid obscure Prison for eight or [Page 290] ten Years, and often for Life, (where in Win­ter they suffer all the Rigour of extreme Cold, and in Summer of excessive Heat) are certainly more cruel Punishments than Death at once.

Now in my usual abrupt Manner, I shall conduct you at one Step from temporal to spiritual Affairs, and say a few Words of the Church, whose Power is very limited in this Republic.

The STATE of the CHURCH.

THE Republic of Venice has ever been careful to exclude the Clergy from their Coun­cils, and from all political Employments, even those who are noble Venetians. The Head of the Church is stiled Patriarch of Venice, and Primate of Dalmatia; he is always a Noble­man, enjoys a good Revenue, makes a re­spectable Appearance in public Processions, but has no Power, even in ecclesiastical Af­fairs; at all religious Functions, where the Pope's Nuncio is present, the Patriarch is obliged to send the Master of the Ceremo­nies [Page 291] to ask his Permission to give the Blessing. An Office of Inquisition is allowed at Venice, but under such Restrictions, as render it as dependent on the political Government as any of the secular Tribunals are. The Holy-Office is composed of the Patriarch, the Nuncio, and a Friar, who has the Title of Father In­quisitor, and two experienced Senators, with­out whose Presence and Consent, all Proceed­ings are null; by this Means, and under this Pretext, that Matters brought before the In­quisition are contrary to the Laws and Inte­rest of the Republic, the greatest Affairs of this Tribunal are reduced to a mere Trifle. The Convents in Venice were formerly so ill regulated, that it occasioned much Scandal; but at present, they are under better Disci­pline, for three Magistrates are appointed by the Senate, with an extensive Authority, to take Cognizance of all that passes in the fe­male Monasteries; and though the Patriarch himself allows a Priest to say Mass in one of their Churches, he is obliged to obtain a Per­mission from one of these Magistrates besides, who limits this Licence to what Time he thinks proper. All the Women likewise who [Page 292] perform any Commissions for the Nuns, are obliged, under Penalty of corporal Punishment, to have Leave in Writing to execute them, signed by one of the aforesaid Magistrates. The Senate has, within these few Years, made many wise and useful Reformations in the re­gular Convents of Friars also; and have trans­ferred from the Superiors of those Houses to the Senate, the Power of inflicting capital Pu­nishments and Imprisonment upon the Monks, and only allow them for the future to impose Penances of Fasting, Prayers, and such like conventual Exercises.

Now we must return from spiritual to tem­poral Affairs again, that I may have the Ho­nour to introduce you to the Venetian No­blesse, who are not a little vain of the great Antiquity of their Nobility, which they can certainly, many of them at least, authenticate for several Ages past, better than any other Nation we are acquainted with.

[Page 293]NOBILITY of the FIRST CLASS.

THE noble Venetians, who compose the first Class, comprehend the Families of the twelve Tribunes who elected the first Doge in 709: the Contarini, Morosini, Poli, Badovari, Tiepoli, Michele, Sanudi, Gradenigo, Memo, Fa­lier, Dondolo, and Barozzi. The four Families next to these in Point of Antiquity, date their Nobility from the Year 800, when they signed the Contract for the Abbey of St. George the Great; these are the Justiniani, Cornaro, Bra­gadini, and Bembo. The first are popularly called the twelve Apostles, and the last the four Evangelists. To this Class may be added also, eight Families who look upon themselves as equal to the first, because long before il Serral del Consiglio, which happened in 1289, they were very considerable; these are the Del­phini, Quirini, Soranzo, Zorzi, and Marcello; the other three, by Reason of extreme Pover­ty, are fallen into total Obscurity, or perhaps are extinct: in this Class too, may be placed some illustrious Families, who retired to Ve­nice, [Page 294] from the Town of Acre in Syria, when it was destroyed by the Venetian General TIE­POLI, for having revolted from its Obedience to the Republic after the first Conquest of it. The greatest Advantage these Families derive from their Antiquity is being more considered in the Disposal of public Employments that reflect Honour on the Possessors; in Point of Precedency, all the Nobility of Venice rank alike.

NOBILITY of the SECOND CLASS.

THIS Class is composed of those who can produce no authentic Proof of their Nobi­lity earlier than 1289, when their Names were written in the Libro d'Oro, which now contains more than five hundred Families. It was at that memorable Event, il Serrar del Consiglio, that this List of the Nobles was first made out, and a Law enacted, that if the Names of their Children were not written in this Book within a certain Time after their Birth, they should forfeit their Title to Nobi­lity; and this also happens, if the Contract [Page 295] of their Parents' Marriage does not legally pass the Senate, which it cannot do, if a no­ble Venetian marries a public Performer, either in the Drama, or Music, one who has been in a State of Servitude, or one whose Father is of any Profession or Trade, excepting a Physician, a Manufacturer of gold or silver Silks, or a Maker of Glass. As it is now upwards of four hundred Years since il Serrar del Consig­lio, this Class of Nobles is highly esteemed. The most considerable of these Families that still exist, are the Moncenigo, the Capello, Fos­carini, Foscari, Grimani, Gritti, Garzoni, Love­dan, Dona, Nani, Malipiero, Pesoro, Pisani, Priuli, Ruzzini, Sagredo, Valier, Venier, Bassa­dona, &c. &c. most of these have given Doges to the Republic, and the reigning one at pre­sent is a Moncenigo. In this Rank are also placed thirty Families that were ennobled nine­ty-one Years later, on the Termination of the Genoese War, as a Reward for assisting the State with vast Sums of Momey; the most considerable of these that are remaining are the Trevisan, Vendramin, Renier, Justi, and Pas­qualighi.

[Page 296]After having introduced you to so much good Company, I think you will not be sorry if I take my Leave for the present; but I cannot do that, without first assuring you, that I am, with Truth, &c. &c.

TO proceed with my Subject where I left it in my last Letter, I must now talk to you a little of a younger Branch of the Venetian Nobility, whom I shall stile the third Class, and even these are respectable for their Antiquity.

[Page 297]NOBILITY of the THIRD CLASS.

IN this Class are comprehended about eighty Families, who purchased their Nobility for an hundred thousand Ducats each, during the last War of Candia; some of these have remained poor and distressed ever since, by that Instance of their Vanity: the following are still con­siderable for their Wealth and Alliances, the Videman, Labia, Zenobia, Fini, Manini, Gam­bara, &c. &c. The Savorgnan gave to the Republic some Fortresses of great Importance, for guarding the Venetitian Territories from the Encroachments of the Turks; and the Ben­zoni made the State a Present of the Pro­vince of Crema, of which they possessed the Seignory; and for these free Gifts the two Families received the Honour of being enno­bled. Though the noble Venetians can au­thenicate the Antiquity of their Nobility bet­ter than any People perhaps in Europe, yet not content with this Advantage, they are fond of deriving their Families from fabulous Ori­ginals: thus the Contarini, from a Similitude [Page 298] of Name, pretend to be descended from an­tient German Princes, who were stiled Counts of the Rhine; the Justiniani, who give for their Arms a Spread Eagle, from thence claim their Descent from an Emperor of the East of their Name. I have been told a curious Anecdote of this noble Family, that I will relate for your Amusement: some Centuries past, they fitted out a Vessel, under the Doge VITAL MICHELE, to fight against the Emperor EMANUEL; (who had ill treated the Venetians in the Levant) the Justiniani were all cut to Pieces, and the only surviving Male was a Benedictine Friar, for whom the Doge obtained a Dispensation of his Vows from the Pope, and married him to his Daughter, and from this Couple are descended the present Family, according to this Legend, which whether true or false I shall not take upon me to deter­mine. One Branch of the Cornaro Family stile themselves Cornaro della Regina, from one of their House having been Queen of Candia; but this Alliance is rather a Blot in their Escutcheon, if a certain evil Fame may be relied on, who says, that the Husband of this Lady was an Usurper, whom she poisoned, and [Page 299] treacherously betrayed the Candians to the Ve­netians. A Gentleman has promised to intro­duce me to a Lady of this Name, who is a very agreeable, sensible Woman, and who, he says, will shew me the complete Ornaments of the Toilette of the Queen above-mentioned, which is still in the Possession of the Family, and valued by them at many thousand Ducats.

The CITIZENS, or ORDER of SECRETARIES.

THE Citizens had formerly a large Share in the Government, and Venice would probably have always remained in a State of Democra­cy, had not the Resentment of PIETRO GRA­DENIGO against many of the Class, who op­posed his being chosen Doge, determined him to transfer the Power entirely from the Peo­ple into the Hands of the Nobility, which he fully effected by Means of the Serrar del Consiglio; at which Period, several of the No­bles lost their Rank, by not being admitted into the Secret; and at present, by the Word Citizen, (at Venice) is meant the Families thus [Page 300] excluded from the Grand Council, many of whom bear the same Name and Arms of the old Nobility; and to these may be added ma­ny who by Merit or Money have obtained the same Privileges in the Republic: they rank with the Nobility of the Terra Firma, and one at least of every Family wears the Vest, the same as the noble Venetians: it has been thought, this is allowed them to prevent the People from observing how small a Num­ber of Men they are governed by. Though, by a standing Law, every noble Venetian is forbid to enter into Trade, yet they often join privately in Commerce with the wealthy Citi­zens, which the Senate winks at, because when they are become opulent, they can make it turn to the Advantage of the State, by employing them in expensive Embassies. From among the Citizens are chosen the Secretaries of the Senate, Secretaries of Embassies, and also Residents at foreign Courts, for a noble Venetian can accept of no Employment of that kind, but with the Title of Ambassador; and, for the same Reason, the Republic receives no foreign Minister in any intermediate Cha­racter between a Resident and an Ambassador. [Page 301] The Dignity of Grand Chancellor is always conferred on one of this Class; and as it is the highest Honour that can be attained by a Person who is not noble, it is generally given as a Reward to one who has served the Re­public well in expensive Residencies. The Sub­jects of the Venetian State are by some rated, at present, at about 2,655,448; but those who have made very accurate Enquiries upon this Head affirm, that they are over-rated by one million.

Thus, my Friend, I have obeyed your Com­mands, and, in as concise a Manner as I pos­sibly could, have endeavoured to give you a just Idea of the very extraordinary Govern­ment of the Republic of Venice; I flatter my­self, that by offering you this at one View, I have saved you the Trouble of turning over some Books which, besides being very dry read­ing, you might not easily have met with: but was this little Extract (or whatever you are pleased to call it) to fall under the Ob­servation of a less indulgent Judgment than yours, I should, with great Reason, fear being charged with having given it in a slovenly in­correct Manner. I shall only advance, in my De­fence, [Page 302] that you well know how limited my Time is at Venice, and how strongly my natural Incli­nation leads me to a much more entertaining Study than that of History; but to such a Friend as yourself, I could not refuse a Gra­tification that it was in my Power to procure you, at the trifling Expence of putting myself, for a few Hours, out of my Way; I only wish you may find my Attempt satisfactory. However, before I entirely quit this Subject, I cannot forbear communicating to you a few Re­flections into which it has naturally led me; it is melancholy to observe, that in a Govern­ment so wise in many of its Parts, such gross Errors should be suffered to pass uncorrected, as must in Time most certainly destroy the whole System. A total Neglect evidently ap­pears in the Education of the young Nobi­lity, which gives them an Ignorance, I had almost said Brutality, that renders them very disagreeable in civil Society, and must prove an Obstacle to their becoming wise and pru­dent Magistrates; and, added to this, the Li­centiousness not only permitted, but even en­couraged, among the Clergy, has produced such a shameful Neglect in Matters of true [Page 303] Religion, that Vice and Immorality seem to pre­vail among all Ranks of People, which must in Time infallibly bring to a final Dissolution this once flourishing and powerful Republic. How amazingly must the Manners of the Ve­netians have been corrupted since their first Establishment, if the Abbate LANGIER has drawn a true Character of them in his Storia Veneta, P. 130, Libro 1. He says, Esigevansi Costumi puri, Condotta semplice, una Vita labo­riosia per Ottenere da Lei la Qualita di Cittadino. The same Author quotes a Letter, written by CASSIODORUS, who was Minister from King THEODORICK to the Tribunes of the mari­time Isles, which contains these Words, Più di sussante piccole Isole essendo state Abitate suc­cessivamente intorno Rialto per componere al fire questa Cita prodigiosa. P. 160. Libro 2. I have transcribed this only by Way of observ­ing how very early Rialto (now called Venice) became a considerable Place. LANGIER places the Election of PAOLO LUCIO ANAFESTE, the first Doge, in 697, which is twelve Years ear­lier than St. DISDIER's Account, who says, this Prince was elected in 709. AMELOT DE LA HOUSSAI, in his History of the Republic [Page 304] of Venice, says, The Government of Venice by Consuls and Tribunes, which lasted 270 Years, may be called her Infancy; the de­spotic Reign of the Doges, from PAOLO LU­CIO ANAFESTE to SEBASTIAN RIANI, (which comprehends 463 Years) her Childhood; the Democracy, (which lasted above a Century) her Youth, which, says he, was robust and vigo­rous; but, as it often happens in similar Cases, it was disturbed and agitated by dan­gerous Paroxisms of Wars and Revolts. Her Virility, he adds, began with il Serrar del Con­siglio, and lasted till the War of the League of Cambray, in 1309, which may be called the Beginning of her old Age.

The Republic liberally rewarded SANAZAR for the following very flattering Epigram:

[Page 305]Thus hastily translated by a Gentleman of my Acquaintance:

As I am very partial to this famous Re­public, even in her present faulty State, I can­not do better than to take my Leave of her, after paying her so high a Compliment; and at the same Time shall bid you, my dear Friend, adieu for some Time, as I propose leaving Venice in a few Days, and from what Place I shall next write to you, I cannot at pre­sent foresee. Farewel, believe me, &c. &c.

THE kind Expressions in your welcome Epistle, and superabundant Thanks for my Venetian Extract, were, I assure you, a Cor­dial to my Heart. I am rejoiced that our worthy Patroness has passed so good a Win­ter, and hope the Summer will be still more propitious to her.

You will see by the Date of this Letter, we have changed our Situation, and are got to a sweet Retirement, on the Banks of the Brenta; the House is large, convenient, clean and chearful; the Gardens spacious, and in good Order; and the whole Atmosphere per­fumed with Roses, Jasmines and Orange Flo­wers, which we have in great Profusion. The River, which is in the Front of the House, affords a continual moving Picture of large [Page 307] Barges, passing to and fro from Venice to Padua, from either of which Places we can have any Thing brought by Water to the very Door. The north Side of the River is planted with Forest Trees, and the south Side with Vines that hang in beautiful Festoons, supported by other Trees: in short, we want nothing but a few liberal Souls (such as di­stinguish the Party you are with) in this Neigh­bourhood, to render this delicious Spot an abso­lute terrestrial Paradise; yet, I am sure, whilst you have the Advantage of such a Socie­ty, you would not exchange your retired Spot for all I have been describing; and in this Preference, I join with you most cordially, and beg my best Love to all the dear Mem­bers that are so happy to be collected within the magic Circle.

A hasty Summons (on Account of the De­parture of the Packet that contains this Tri­fle) obliges me to use more Brevity than I am either accustomed or inclined to. I can­not, however, send it off without enclosing a Piece of News, that I flatter myself is not quite indifferent to you; namely, that, please God [Page 308] no unforeseen Accident intervenes, in a twelve-month's Time, at farthest, I may probably be so happy as to salute you all in your usual dear Assembly-Room. Be persuaded, however, of this simple Truth, that whether the Time I am absent from you all is long or short, or the Distance great or small, I am ever, and shall always remain, with the same Affection and Sincerity,

Pray let me have the Pleasure to hear from you soon.

P. S. By the Bye, I have a Favour in the Transcript-Way to entreat of you. You do not forget, I am sure, that, previous to my setting off for Venice, I was hurried about (my usual Fate) from Spot to Spot, and sent you occasional Accounts of such Places and Events as I thought best worth your Notice. A dear Friend here wishes to see them: now, as some Time is elapsed, it would save my Head as well as Hand much Trouble, if you would oblige me with Copies of those Let­ters, [Page 309] provided you have thought them worth preserving: I mean only (as you may imagine) the descriptive Parts of them.

I THINK myself so much obliged to you, for you taking so much Notice of my insignificant Scrawl, that I am not the least inclined to find fault with the Length of Time you have taken in answering my last; and to shew my Sincerity in this Particular, I am sat down to acknowledge your Favour, though I have not had it in my Possession longer than this Afternoon, for it has lain some Time in London. I have been on a Visit to a worthy Friend of ours, at this Place, for a Month [Page 310] past, and I assure you, I have all the Rea­son in the World to be satisfied with my Journey. Pray, good Sir, did you ever see Bridgenorth? I believe not—Very well; then I must give you some little Description of this Place, (as I am habituated to do of every new Spot I tread upon, whether large or small) for I think Bridgenorth is, in Point of Situ­ation, by much the prettiest I ever saw; it is divided into two Parishes, distinguished by the Names of the Upper and Lower Town. I was, the other Day, on a Visit to the Rec­tor of the upper Parish; the Parsonage-House is a truly Gothic Structure, which overlooks the Church-Yard, and though I cannot say, this is the most pleasant, yet it certainly is not the least useful Prospect in the World, to a speculative Mind. The upper Town is situ­ated on a Cliff, which renders it very whol­some, both from its Height, and the Clear­ness of the Air. The View from our back Windows is more beautiful than any Thing you can imagine: at the Foot of the Hill, the Severn rolls its crystal Waves, in a charm­ing serpentine Stream, down to the Banks whereof, is a Succession of sloping Gardens, [Page 311] that vie with each other in Beauty, Fragrance, and Order. On the opposite Side, in a Vale, lies the lower Town, and above that are de­lightful Fields and Meadows, interspersed with fine Plantations of Trees of a long Growth. The Grounds, by an easy Ascent, terminate at last in a Common, fifteen Miles long, on which is a very good Horse-Course; to the left, the Prospect is bounded by a very high Rock, and on the right, as far as the Eye can stretch, is a fine open fertile Country; this strong Contrast has a most happy Effect. A noble Object in this inimitable Landscape is the Ruin of an old Castle, which, from the Position wherein it has been left by a Can­non-Ball, is, perhaps, one of the greatest Cu­riosities in Europe; it strikes us with Admi­ration and Awe, while we contemplate its nod­ding Towers, which look as if they meant to overwhelm the heedless Passenger in sudden De­struction; yet the Mathematicians affirm, that nothing less than an Earthquake can move this immense Pile of Building. Round it is a de­lightful Walk, where we often repair when the Weather is inviting; but when this happens not to be the Case, we have for our Amuse­ment, [Page 312] in the House, a Microscope, a reflecting Tellescope, and a Camera Obscura: the first of these is my Favourite; Mr. L—, by the help of it, the other Day, detected a Beau of an Humble Bee, in the very Act of scratching a Louse (Oh, shameful Truth!) off the downy Part of his Neck, and this little Animal, though scarcely perceptible to the naked Eye, is a most tremendous Figure, much resembling a Hog, in the Glass; for my Part, though I am not apt to be attracted by gaudy Co­lours, I am absolutely in love with the ra­diant Armour of a green Beetle, richly gilded, with a Sun-Beam. I own to you, my good Friend, I have a hearty Contempt for the Cox­combs of the human Race, who place all their Happiness in Dress, when I consider that an humble Moth, in the simple Habit which Nature has given it, far outshines them in all the Glitter of Lace and Embroidery.

Whenever we amuse ourselves with these Sort of Contemplations, our worthy Neighbour the Pastor, never fails to make Improvement go Hand in Hand with Amusement, by ta­king Occasion to expatiate on the Wisdom and [Page 313] bounteous Goodness of our great Creator, ex­emplified in the most minute, as well as in the greatest Objects of Nature. This excellent Man edifies his Parishioners as much by the exemplary Life he leads, as by the sound and orthodox Doctrine he delivers from the Pulpit, and he does this with the most chearful Dis­position that can be, and totally free from the least Shadow of Ostentation; we attend him every Morning to public Prayers in the Church.

Now, my good Friend, I have given you a very particular Account of my present Situa­tion, and leave it to you to judge, if it is not very agreeable. I must add to this, that I got here Time enough for the Races, where there was a great Appearance of Company, (for such a Place;) though Men were scarce, I got a Partner each Night. Lord STAMFORD's Family were the first in Rank. Lady MARY GREY opened the Ball, and I had the Honour to dance a Minuet with Mr. GREY, the first Night: indeed, I have met with so much Polite­ness and Goodness from every Body in this Part of the World, that I am sure I shall be grieved to leave Bridgenorth. My first setting out from [Page 312] [...] [Page 313] [...] [Page 314] London was not so lucky, for I was robbed and terrified almost to Death; but, thank God, my Loss was but small, and I have entirely recovered my Spirits.

I desire my Love and best Respects to the worthy Family you are with, and am

I HAVE been some Time without hearing from you. I hope the excellent Presi­dent of our Society is not laid up with her old Plague, the Gout. If social Worth could ward off Malady, she would never be ill. [Page 315] Perhaps you have not been in the Writing-Vein; such a Fit attacks us all at Times, and you know it is our Rule reciprocally to allow for it. If that is the Case, do but sub­scribe the Initials of your Name to a good, though short Account of yourselves, and I will rest contented.

I know not what I said in my last, but to the best of my Rememberance, I gave you no Account of this terestrial Paradise; but now I am more acquainted with its Beauties, I will make an Attempt of that Sort.

The ‘" Sweet winding Tay,"’ which runs at the Bottom of our Garden, for upwards of six Miles, forms the most beautiful Canal you can imagine; on the one Side of it, for the same Extent, are delightful Walks, rising one above another, no less than five Stages, all amply shaded with stately Trees, from around whose Trunks the twining Woodbine and Sweet-Briar pours forth a Profusion of Sweets; the sloping Sides of the Walks are also planted with Va­riety of sweet-smelling Shrubs, which being fanned by the fresh Breezes off the River, [Page 316] scatter Perfumes in a plenteous and grateful Return, along the verdant Banks. At judicious Distances are placed grassy Seats, moss-grown Cells, and flowery Arbours, all which, in their several Turns, would invite us to sit down and indulge Contemplation, but that the un­wearied Mind, enraptured with these enchan­ting Objects, urges us to proceed in Search of new Beauties, and in that Pursuit it cannot here meet with the slightest Disappointment. The opposite Side of the River is a deep Bank, finely fringed with Wood of a younger Growth; at different Points of View, we see the Brawn, another beautiful River, and a foaming Cas­cade; each paying the Tribute of their lucid Stores into the crystal Bosom of the Tay, who, as if conscious of superior Merit, trips nimbly along, in Murmurs of Self-Applause. This charming Prospect is at last closed with Views of distant Ruins, Hills covered with Trees, fertile Vales, and Mountains of a most vene­rable Appearance, covered with a Heath so beautiful, that it may vie with the glowing Amaranthus. The Gardens are very extensive, and laid out in the finest Taste, that is to say, with Grandeur and Simplicity united. [Page 317] Nature appears here in her loveliest Attire, and Art is contented to act in her proper Sphere, as Handmaid to the Goddess. We seldom drink Tea in the House; sometimes an elegant Tent and Marquis is pitched at some fine Point of View; sometimes we resort to a fine banqueting Room, and often the Shade of a large spreading Oak has the Pre­ference. Upon these Occasions the Duke al­ways reads and we work. What most attracts my Admiration here is, to perceive that in every surrounding Object, Utility adds Merit to Beauty: the Farm-Houses on this Estate are neat as the Hand of Industry can make them, and chearful as the Smiles of Content; and every Creature that breathes upon this Spot seems to participate in the unfeigned Happiness of the excellent Possessors, whose Goodness adds the highest Lustre to Wealth and Title that they are capable of receiving. It was well said, whoever made the Observation, that a good Action never loses its reward; here was I sat down, full of Love and Re­spect to write my dearest Friends a dutiful and loving Letter, when lo, and behold! I was made happy by the Receipt of yours; and [Page 318] truly rejoiced I am to find, that my Fears are groundless; however, I don't feel happy at the Thought of our Society's meeting with any Interruption to its Pleasures. Believe my Assurance sincere, when I affirm, that I think the Content which reigns therein, far excels in Value the highest Gratifications that Shew and Grandeur can bestow on its restless Votaries. Pray have you ever read DE TOUCHE's Co­medies? I am positive such excellent Subjects, modelled for our Stage, would be of public Emolument, and I should hope, would be productive of both Honour and Profit to the Undertaker. I am afraid, by what you say of Dunkeld, I gave you an Account of its Beauties in my last, if so, this will be a hor­rid, stupid Repetition; in that Case, commit me to the Flames without the least Remorse of Conscience. I hope the Sight of a Letter directed by the Pen of a fine young Gen­tleman, won't give you any Alarm; I con­fess it has done so by me, since this new fashioned Way of franking. Adieu! In more Haste than can be expressed, believe me ever

HOW strong and wonderful, my good Friend, is the Force of Habit! I re­member, near upon my Departure from the dear Society in Somersetshire, I felt an auk­ward Kind of—I don't know what—when it was proposed that I should maintain a con­tinual Correspondence with one of the other Sex, during my Absence. I felt this, even in spite of the Conviction, that writing to you, was, in fact, but writing to the whole Circle. How idle!—Now that I have done so, for some Time, I have taught myself to address you, with as little Reserve, as if you were my real, instead of my nominal Uncle. So much the better—Reserve was not made for true Friendship, and liberal Minds, and with none but such do I correspond.—So much by Way of Digression; now, to return to my little Travels.

[Page 320]We have been these six Weeks past at Atholl House, a very magnificent Seat of the Duke's, twenty Miles higher up in the High­lands than this Place is; though it far ex­ceeds Dunkeld in Grandeur, yet I own the rural Beauties of the latter, have more Charms for my humble Disposition; Providence ha­ving, no doubt, designed me to tread the ‘"Cool sequestered Vale of Life,"’ has bounded my Ideas accordingly, and I look upon this as one of the numberless Instances I have ex­perienced of the Divine Bounty. The Coun­try about Atholl is very romantic and beauti­ful; in some Places rather wild, in others very fertile, which forms a fine Contrast. The House is immensely large, the Rooms are in­finite in Number, finely proportioned, and elegantly furnished throughout; 'tis situated in a very extensive Vale, amply wooded, and or­namented with four beautiful Rivers, all of which, at different Places, lose themselves in the Tay. Some of them from the Tops of very high Mountains receive a prodigious In­crease from the finest natural Cascades you can imagine, which is a Sight extremely beautiful, [Page 321] and at the same Time very tremendous. The Kitchen-Garden is the finest Thing of the Kind that in my Life I ever saw; elegant Sum­mer-houses, Alcoves, Octagons, &c. &c. often tempted us to drink Tea abroad, and enjoy the fine extensive Views at Leisure. I should have told you, that the Vale is surrounded with Hills and Mountains, at such a Distance, that in­stead of confining the Prospect, they add great­ly to the Grandeur of it.

I must not omit to mention a natural Cu­riosity I here met with, of a very extraordinary Kind: M' PHERSON, Laird of Foignes, two Years before the Peace, raised eight and twen­ty Men to serve in America; who unanimously declared when they came to embark, that they would not have enlisted, had they not thought they should have served under him; the ge­nerous Laird was so struck with this Proof of their Attachment, that he declared they should not be disappointed, and, at the Age of seventy-two, asked Leave to serve as a Vo­lunteer; during the Remainder of the Cam­paign he was present in every Action, was always ready to expose his Person, and never [Page 322] was a single Day prevented by Illness from doing his Duty; the Government has reward­ed his spirited Generosity with a Lieutenancy, and Leave to retire upon full Pay, so that now, like the Patriarchs of old, he wages more harmless Wars with the feathered Race and swift-footed Stag: now, at near fourscore Years of Age, he is able to walk and scram­ble amongst the Mountains, the whole Day, in Pursuit of Game. How few, my good Friend, of our degenerate Countrymen, are at such an Age able to serve their King and Country! Enervated by Sloth and Luxury, long before that Period of Life, they become a Burthen to themselves, and a Torment to all about them. When I looked at the military Garb and venerable silver Locks of this northern Hero, I fancied I saw in his single Person an Epitome of all the illustrious Greeks that served in the Siege of Troy; and if my Heart had been inclined to change its present Situa­tion, I verily believe I should without Hesi­tation have bestowed it upon this warlike Mountaineer.

I fear the Season is now approaching, when our friendly Association must lose some of its [Page 323] agreeable Ornaments; I feel for the Mortifi­cation a sensible Mind must suffer, at being obliged to quit the Society of a favourite few, to mix with the unthinking many: but hope that the kind Genius of Friendship will inter­pose a Gleam of Pleasure, at the Prospect of a future Meeting.

My Love to all, you know, is a constant Commission, and I am sure you will never forget to discharge it. How is that best of good Beings, our President, our Patroness, our Life, our Spirit, our all? Is she not the wor­thiest of Heaven's Worthies? Was there ever Acquaintance who did not esteem her, Friend who did not love her, Domestic who did not bless her, or Indigent, who came to her Door, that did not pray for her? Long may she remain with us! and whenever it pleases Pro­vidence to remove her from Earth, may she receive Blessings in a future State, in as ample Portions, as she, through Life, has ever wished and endeavoured to dispense them to her Fellow-Creatures.

DID you ever expect to hear of, or from me again? Ever since I received your last, I have lived the [...]ife of a Whirlagig, but be assured that I had not a Moment to tell you so. The dear Spot I left was al­ways in my Thoughts, and indeed as yet my poor Brain is far from being in a composed State; a scribbling Moment too is the only good Thing that is scarce here. A few Days after I received yours we left the calm Sweets of Dunkeld, and went to pay a second Visit at Lord BREADALBANE's, where all was Mirth, Music, Masquerades, &c. &c. From thence we set forth on our Return towards a southern Sun, and gentler Breezes, and stopped for a few Days at the elegant and superb Seat of Lord BINGLEY, near York; there we found a brilliant Assembly of Ladies and Gentlemen, [Page 325] who had met to dine and play Cards, how­ever, most of them went away in the Evening, and we remained a decent Party for the rest of the Time; from thence we bent our Course to this magnificent Castle, hoping, wishing, and expecting, to find a quiet, peaceable Family till Christmas, when we knew a deli­cious Riot was always intended; but lo, and behold! here we found his Highness of York, Lord and Lady CHARLES SPENCER, Lady CHATHERINE, and Mr. BEAUCLERK, Lord and Lady LUDLOW, and a World more of fine Folks; the very first Night we were forced to join in a Ball, and every Day, whilst his Highness stayed, we had Music in the Morn­ings, and Cards or Dancing at Night; I be­lieve every Creature was fatigued with Plea­sures, and I can answer for one who was glad when it was over; the Duke of YORK was so pleased with his Entertainment, that it is not impossible but he may return at Christmas. We are now a sober decent Party of ten or twelve, and, like rational Beings, read and work in the Evenings; and, to shew you that all this Dissipation does not totally banish serious Thoughts, we have Prayers con­stantly [Page 326] every Morning in a beautiful Chapel in the Castle. I take it for granted, that you know, all this Time, that the Owner of this Palace is the Duke of MANCHESTER, who is a very amiable young Nobleman, his Bro­ther, Lord CHARLES MONTAGU, is no less so, the Duchess is beautiful, polite, and a very good young Woman; but the Character that I could dwell upon with Delight for Ages, is Lady CAROLINE MONTAGU, the Duke's Sister. If ever perfect Goodness chose to dwell with mere Mortality, one may imagine it inhabits her Breast; and I flatter myself, that you will not conceive the worse Idea of her Ladyship, when I tell you, that she honours me with a very particular Friendship, unworthy as I am of such a valuable Distinction. Don't think I flatter, for I am perfectly sincere, when I assure you, that I often think, amidst this perpetual Round of gay Amusements, with infinite Regret of the dear social Party, where­with I have spent some of the happiest and most rational Moments of my Life; I gave such a Picture of it to a young Man of great Quality and good Sense, a little while ago, that he made me pass my Word, if ever we met [Page 327] at —, to introduce him to the Lady Pa­troness of the agreeable Society. I beg my best Affections to all the dear Associates; I rejoice, without the least Mixture of Envy, at my worthy Namesake's happy Prospects, and sincerely wish she may enjoy every Feli­city the holy Estate can possibly produce. I hope I need not say, that a Letter from you always gives me Pleasure; you will, I am sure, indulge me between this and Christmas. Pray tell me, in your next, if Mr. QUIN is not alive; besides the Concern I should feel for his Death, I am engaged in a Wager about it.

I am become such a wandering Vagabond over the Face of the Earth, that I should not be a Bit surprised to find myself conveyed suddenly to the utmost Extent of the habita­ble Globe: I fear, I shall be less fortunate than NOAH's Dove; she, at last, found Rest for the Sole of her Foot, but I doubt I shall not, till my Soul has taken its Flight to some more happy Region; I assure you I meant no Pun, but I see one has fallen from my Pen of its own Accord. I heard from our [Page 328] Friends in — since I got here, and have the Satisfaction to find they are all well.

I would attempt to give you some Idea of this Place, but there is a Magnificence and Extensiveness in it, that goes far beyond the Capacity of my Pen. The Castle is a very large and regular Building, the Connoisseurs say the Architecture is very just; 'tis expen­sively furnished, though not in the modern Taste; there are many good Paintings that this Duke bought in Italy. The Parks, Lawns, &c. &c. are judiciously planted, and laid out in a good Taste; I find the present Possessor has made many Improvements, and is making still more. The Plate and Apparatus for the Table is more superb than any Thing of the Kind that I have ever seen, and the Table is always elegantly covered; but I must confess, this is the Kind of Luxury that pleases me the least, and I often think, how much more healthy, and consequently happier, our Forefathers were, than their degenerate Proge­ny, who live upon Ragouts, Fricasses, and high-seasoned Meats.

[Page 329]Adieu! If you are tired with my moralizing, you will not be sorry, that both my Time and Paper obliges me to assure you, that I am, with the sincerest Truth, your ever obliged

I NOW write to you from this Metropolis of Dirt and Gentility, which, owing to the Narrowness of the Streets and Height of the Houses, puts me more in mind of the Ca­pital of North than of South Britain; but then the Grands Hotels are more noble, and in greater Abundance than our Noblemen's Houses; and the Environs of Paris are, in my Opi­nion, finer than those of London, which Place [Page 330] we left on Thursday the 17th of this Month, and arrived here on Tuesday the 22d, with­out meeting any disagreeable Accident during the Journey. We have got a very elegant Apartment in one of the best Parts of Paris, and, you may be sure, have lost no Time since our Arrival, in seeing every Thing that is worthy a Stranger's Curiosity. The Thuilleries, of which French Novellists make such frequent Mention, is a pleasant Place for the People of Fashion to take the Air in. The Louvre, which, in outward Shew, far exceeds any Palace we have, runs along one End of it, and on the opposite Side a fine Square is building, called the Place de Louis Quinze; there are noble shady Walks, and a charming Terrass, that commands a fine View of Paris; but the old Taste, in which the Center of the Garden is laid out, is frightful, and exactly resembles the Ornaments of a Minced-Pye. There is another fashionable Rendezvous for the Evening Airings, about a Mile out of Paris, that, I confess, pleases me still more, called the Bois de Bullogne, where, instead of a sharp Gravel and crowded Walks, like our Park, you may wander about [Page 331] at full Liberty, and tread upon a verdant Car­pet all the Time, which to tender-footed Folks makes a great Difference. We have seen se­veral private Collections of Paintings, and other Curiosities, that do great Honour to the Taste and Judgment of the Possessors: but nothing charms me so much, as a noble Collection of Pictures at the Palais Royale, which belongs to the Duke of ORLEANS, first Prince of the Blood, and were chiefly purchased by the famous Regent. The grand Opera here is the finest Thing to see one can possibly imagine; the Scenes are splendid, the Dresses rich and elegant, the Dances composed with infinite Taste, and finely executed, and the Stage much better filled than ours: but the Music is truly detestable; 'tis all French, and from the Beginning to the End like a solemn Dirge. As for the Voices, if you will imagine a Concert composed of Cats, Owls, and Monkeys, it will give you a tole­rable Idea of the Harmony, and whoever as­sassinates your Ears with the greatest Violence is most applauded. The French comic Opera is as agreeable as the serious one is the re­verse. The Songs are all sprightly Italian [Page 332] Airs; the Scenery and Dresses, as at the other, excel ours, and to my Fancy, this is the most agreeable Amusement Paris affords; their Manner of acting Plays, I own, does not charm me, after being used to the genteel, familiar Dialogue of our English Comedies; and even in Tragedy, I think they have too much Ener­gy, both of Voice and Action. I should not thus familiarly play the Critic, were I not perfectly well acquainted with your Candour and Good-nature; for, after all, I am talking of what I don't understand, and am as likely to be wrong as right. So much by Way of Digression, a Liberty all modern Novellists allow themselves; and now my Narrative pro­ceeds to the Chapter of Fashions, for the Sake of the female Members of your Party. The Ladies in general would, I believe, be hand­some, but for two shocking Dabs of Crimson, or Scarlet, which some prefer, in a circular Form, directly under each Eye, which makes them look just like so many Furies; the Hair dressed out of all Proportion, for often the Height of the Hair is more a great Deal than the Length of the whole Face; even I, who am quite moderate, am at least three Inches [Page 333] of Toupée taller than I was when I left Eng­land; the Hoops are very small, the Ruffles very moderate, and the Necks more covered than in England; the Gowns are made very high behind, and pin pretty close before, and almost as wide at Bottom as at Top; the Pleats of the Sacks behind are made narrower than ours. The married Ladies (indeed we never see any other in public) all wear very small Caps. The Court being in Mourning, prevents our seeing any other finery than Dia­monds, in which the Ladies seem to abound, in general, more than in England. Not a Head of any Sort have I yet seen that is not abso­lutely plaistered with Pomatum and Powder, those of the Poor as well as the Rich; I wonder the Consumption of Flower in this Metropolis of well-dressed dirty People, does not breed a Famine: the Streets are always so crowded with them, that you would swear Paris was the most populous Place, and the Pa­risians the most idle Set of People, in the whole World. A fashionable Custom here is, when the Comedy is finished, to drive to what is called the Grande Boule Vert, one Side of which is shaded with Trees, and the other filled with [Page 334] large Coffee-houses, finely illuminated, where you see all Manner of Sport going forward, as Eating, Dancing, Music, Puppet-Shows, Conjurers, Fireworks, Fire-Eaters, Giants, Lil­liputians, &c. &c. in short, you may be amused, in about the Length of the Mall, from eight in the Evening till three in the Morning; but the genteel Way is only to drive up and down the Walk without getting out of your Car­riage. I am afraid that my Description of Paris, and its Amusements, will tire both your Eyes and your Patience, at least, it has done so by me, and I have scribbled in such a Hurry, that it is not fit to send; but I flatter myself, you would rather have a Letter ill written, than none; I am mortified though, that it will cost you a great deal more po­stage than it is worth, and by the Time it reaches you, we shall probably be pursuing our Journey, so that I cannot hope to hear a Word of or from our dear Society till I get to Venice. In the mean Time, I beg to be remembered in the kindest Manner, to every Member, and that you will believe me to be, as I ever am, with Truth and Sincerity, yours and the Society's truly affectionate and obliged

I hope you are able to enjoy this charming Weather, (for I hope 'tis such with you as well as with us) by taking many agreeable Walks in your delightful Meads. I assure you the Seine is nothing comparable to the Avon, and the Pont Neuf, so much extolled by Fame and Frenchmen, is a paltry Affair, in Comparison of Westminster-Bridge. Now I must have done, and I am sure you will be glad of it.

I was so charmed, and so moved last Night at the Tragedy of Zayre, that I am almost tempted to recant what I have said against the French Tragedians; but I still feel a Partiality for our own Actors. I will not be so unrea­sonable to teize you any longer with my Scrawl; once more adieu.

THE greatest Pleasure I can feel during my Exile is to hear good Accounts fre­quently of those Friends in England that are most dear to me. I hope you will answer this very soon, and be so good as to direct your Letter to me as usual, under Cover to Mr. —, who has the Care of sending our Letters to the Secretary of State's Office, by which Means I receive my Letters much safer, than when they are not put in the Packet. It is not yet quite three Months since I left England, and I declare it appears to me three Years already; we were so fortunate, as to perform our Journey without one unlucky Ac­cident. On the twentieth of July, of all Days in the Year, we began our Peregrinations, and arrived here on the twentieth of August, after stopping about five Days on the Road, to [Page 337] see different Places that were worthy of Ob­servation. We made no small Figure, I as­sure you, at setting out; our Train consist­ing of two Post-Coaches and two Post-Chaises: to our no small Amusement, we were mistaken for Foreigners all the Way to Dover, which, I suppose, was owing to our wearing large French Caps without Hats, and our Gentlemen being dressed in loose French Coats, which are the most convenient Kind of Dress for tra­velling. We were not quite three Hours cros­sing the Water; the Quickness of the Passage scarcely made up for the Roughness of it, which was really frightful, even to me, who am no despicable Sailor for a Female In short, I was the only Person well enough to nurse, which was very necessary for the other Females in our Party. At Calais we found two excellent Berlins waiting to conduct us to Strasbourg, in which we proceeded with our two English Chaises. Our Route was quite different from that by which we once went from Strasbourg to Paris, to my no small Joy, for I think a twice-gone Road almost as bad as a twice-told Tale. I had an Op­portunity, by this Means, of seeing Beauties in [Page 338] Champaigne, which, till then, I had no Idea of; for many Miles the Road formed an actual Terrass, bounded on one Side by little Hills, interspersed with Vineyards and Corn Fields, and on the other Side, the Eye is led, by a gentle Descent, down to the most fertile Vales, the Verdure of which could scarcely be con­ceived from the Painting of pastoral Poetry; through these, for an immense Way, meanders a most beautiful serpentine River, whose Banks are adorned with innumerable Droves of Cat­tle of every Sort, which puts one in Mind of the peaceful Reign of the Patriarchs, since, being undivided, they appear to be the Pro­perty of one Master. You will scarcely think, my good Friend, that these smiling Scenes could raise melancholy Ideas, and yet they had that Effect upon my Mind; in almost every Village we passed through, which had looked beautiful at a Distance, we found all the Appearance of Wretchedness and Want that you see in the most dreary Parts of Savoy, for what the Extravagance and Luxury of the Prince of CONDE (part of whose immense Ter­ritory this is) leaves to the Peasants, is wrecked from them by the lazy Priests, who, like Lo­custs, [Page 339] seem to be sent only to eat up the Riches of the Land; here you see no hospi­table Gentleman's Seat; no warm, neat Cot­tages; those are Comforts reserved only for the English, who would, perhaps, be more grate­ful for the Blessings they enjoy, if they pos­sessed fewer of them. But to return to our Journey; the fine Season of the Year, good Roads, and every where tolerable Accommoda­tions, carried us in twelve Days to Strasbourg, where we stopped for three Days, and where you may, if you please, suppose we shall re­main till you hear from me next, as I shall defer the Rest of my Account of our Jour­ney for a future Letter.

The Masking is just begun, and two comic Operas, and two Play-Houses opened; I have been once at the Opera, and caught such a Cold, (partly, I suppose, a Tribute to the Sea­son of the Year, and partly to Change of Cli­mate) that, for fear of the like Accident, I shall frequent Theatres very little, unless I am tempted by a Party.

[Page 340]I fear, my dear Friends, your Patience will be quite tired out before you get to the Con­clusion of this very long Letter; but as I can only send a single Letter, I could not re­sist taking the largest Paper, and I cannot bear to send it you blank.

I am just in the disagreeable Situation I was this Time two Years, when I was so happy to be with you, almost all my worldly Goods being at the Mercy of the Waves, and the Ship ought to have been here at least a Month ago. Adieu, my dearest Friends; may you en­joy every earthly Good, and may we be mu­tually happy in a joyful Meeting, is the ear­nest Wish and Prayer of

I Received with infinite Pleasure, my dear Friends, your very kind Letter; the good Account you give of yourselves is really and truly a Happiness to me, and you have my sincere Prayers and good Wishes, that your Health and Spirits may daily improve. I make no Doubt, but your Tour was a de­lightful one: there is about you, our sweet Patroness, a certain Chearfulness and Good-humour that proceeds immediately from the Heart, that not only illuminates her own Dis­position, but inspires those about her with the most pleasing Sensations the human Mind is capable of feeling. I beg of you to present my best Affections to the Doctor and Mrs. W—, and assure them, that I take the sincerest Part in their Affliction; my good Papa's filial Piety always appeared to me a [Page 342] shining Part of his Character—my Love and sincere good Wishes attend every Member of the dear Society; would to God I could say, I had any Prospect of being soon re-united to that best of all possible Societies: but, alas! that is not to be hoped for: what must be, must be, and I make no Doubt 'tis right.

Now, my dear Friend, I must beg of you to take a Step back with me to Strasbourg, for there, I think, we parted last; from thence we steered our Course to Ball, (or Bazill, as it is called in the Maps) in Switzerland. This Change in our Route delighted me,. We were induced to make this little Round, to avoid a great Part of Swabia, where we heard the Roads were almost impassable, the Water un­wholsome, a great Scarcity of Provisions, and the Measles raging every where; Ball is ex­tremely well worth the Observation of Travel­lers; the Situation is on a very noble Part of the Rhine, which runs through the Town; it also merits the Attention of the Lovers of Virtù, as the best Relict of the famous HOL­BENS (known by the Name of Death's Dance) is preserved in the public Library. From Ball [Page 343] we proceeded to Schafhausen, another of the protestant Swiss Cantons; about three Miles hence is the Cataract of the Rhine, an Ob­ject which I contemplated with a Mixture of Horror and Pleasure, easier to be felt than described, which I beg you will tell my Papa conveyed to me a clearer Idea of the Sublime and Beautiful, than I could ever gather even from Mr. BURKE. We next travelled a very pleasant Road, and caught many fine Views of the famous Lake de Constance: but upon the whole, though I like Swisserland well enough, en-passant, there is an unpolished melancholy Air, even in the greatest Towns, that is disgusting. When we got into the Tyrrol, every Thing lost the Charm of Novelty to me, and I had only the mortifying Reflection to make, that when I last passed those rugged Paths, I was going towards England, and now, alas! was going from it. As we met with no Adven­tures new or surprising, I will trouble you with no further Particulars of our Journey, save that we arrived at Venice the twentieth of August, after being exactly a Month on the Road, without meeting with one Overturn, bro­ken [Page 344] Axeltree, or other sinister Accident what­ever.

And now let me say a few Words for my­self, independent of Company. Since the twen­ty sixth of December, every Creature here, that has Spirits enough to be so, has appeared quite mad; indeed, Venice (in Carnival-Time espe­cially) is only fit for those who can place their Happiness in Vice, Folly, and Dissipation; indeed, I am not only a professed, but a sin­cere Enemy to these three: you will believe me, when I tell you, that I am horridly out of my Element here, and I feel the greatest Conviction, that I shall never taste a hearty Satisfaction, till I again enjoy our rational, dear friendly Society; but I fear the Time is very far distant when I shall be allowed to par­take of such enviable Amusements. You know I mean, in this Declaration, only to refer to the Customs of the Place, not to the Party where­with I came, which is indisputably as rational and amiable as can be enjoyed, uninterrupted with Hurry of Place and ceremonial Visitors. I believe you have often heard me mention a Mrs. S—, a very particular Friend of mine, [Page 345] who has been settled here many Years, and now, having lost a Husband in his ninety-ninth or hundredth Year, she is preparing to return to England; we have talked so much and so often of you all, that she is persuaded she is ac­quainted with you, and begs me to give her Compliments to you; and I verily believe, she will be tempted when she arrives, to make you a friendly Visit.

I am ashamed to send you such a horrid Scrawl, but I have wrote it by Snatches, with most vile Implements; the Date will faith­fully shew you it was begun on the twenty­sixth of January, and now I am concluding it on the ninth of February, so that you may be assured, though I seem dilatory in writing, I, by no Means, intend to be so. I was in Hopes to have popped this into a Dispatch: but, alas! they are grown scarce Commodities at our House.

We have no less than three Operas and four Play Houses open; and, would you believe it! I am grown so old or so stupid, that I pre­fer a Book or a Pen by the Fire-Side, to [Page 346] any of them. I am much abused for this Want of Taste; but so hardened a Sinner am I, that it grows every Day stronger on me. Adieu, my dear good Friend; may every Fe­licity and Blessing attend you all! Such is the sincere Prayer of your ever