LETTER CCXLIX.

To Mrs. THRALE.

DEAR MADAM,

London, July 27, 1780.

AND thus it is, Madam, that you ferve me. After having kept me a whole week hoping and hoping, and wondering and wondering, what could have ftopped your hand from writing, comes a letter to tell me, that I fuffer by my own fault. As if I might not correfpond with my Queeney, and we might not tell one another our minds about politicks or morals, or any thing elfe. Queeney and I are both steady, and may be trufted; we are none of the giddy gabblers, we think before we speak.

I am afraid that I fhall hardly find my way this fummer into the country, though the number of my Lives now grows lefs. I will fend, you two little volumes in a few days.

As the workmen are still at Streatham, there is no likelihood of feeing you and my master in any fhort time; but let my mafter be where he will fo he be well. I am not, I believe, any fatter than when you faw me, and hope to keep corpulence away; for I am fo lightsome and fo airy, and can fo walk, you would talk of it if you were to fee me. I do not always fleep well; but I have no pain nor ficknefs in the night. Perhaps I only sleep ill because I am too long a-bed.

I dined yesterday at Sir Joshua's with Mrs. Cholmondely, and the told me, I was the best critick in the world; and I told her, that nobody in the world could judge like her of the merit of a critick.

On

On Sunday I was with Dr. Lawrence and his two fifters-in-law, to dine with Mr. G at Putney. The Doctor cannot hear in a coach better than in a room, and it was but a dull day; only I faw two crownbirds, paltry creatures, and a red curlew.

Every body is gone out of town, only I am left behind, and know not when I fhall fee either Naiad or Dryad; however, it is as it has commonly been, I have no complaint to make but of myself. I have been idle, and of idleness can come no goodness.

Mrs. Williams was frighted from London as you were frighted from Bath. She is come back, as fhe thinks, better. Mrs. Defmoulins has a dif order resembling an afthma; which I am for curing with calomel and jalap, but Mr. Levet treats it with antimonial wine. Mr. Levet keeps on his legs flout, and walks, I fuppofe, ten miles a-day.

I ftick pretty well to diet, and defire my master may be told of it; for no man faid oftener than he, that the less we eat the better.

Poor, after having thrown away Lord 's patronage and three hundred a year, has had another difappointment. He procured a recommendation from Lord to the Governor of Jamaica; but to make this useful, fomething was to be done by the Bishop of London, which has been refufed. Thus is the world filled with hope and fear, and ftruggle, and difappointment.

Pray do you never add to the other vexations, any diminution of your kindnefs, for, Madam,

Your, &c.

LETTER

MADAM,

LETTER CCL.

To Mrs. THRAL E.

London, August 1, 1780.

I HAD your letter about Mr. S and Mifs O; but there was nothing to which I had any answer, or to which any anfwer could be made.

This afternoon Dr. Lawrence drank tea, and, as he always does, afked about Mr. Thrale; I told him how well he was when I heard; and he does not eat too much, faid the Doctor; I faid, not often; and the return was, that he who in that cafe fhould once eat too much, might eat no more. I keep my rule very well; and, I think, continue to grow better.

Tell my pretty dear Queeney, that when we meet again, we will have, at least for some time, two leffons in a day. I love her, and think on her when I am alone; hope we shall be very happy together, and mind our books.

Now Auguft and Autumn are begun, and the Virgin takes poffeffion of the sky. Will the Virgin do any thing for a man of feventy? I have a great mind to end my work under the Virgin.

I have fent two volumes to Mr. Perkins to be fent to you, and beg you to fend them back as foon as you have all done with them. I let the first volume get to the Reynolds's, and could never get it again.

I fent to Lord Weftcote about his brother's life, but he fays he knows not whom to employ; and

is

is fure I fhall do him no injury. There is an ingenious fcheme to fave a day's work, or part of a day, utterly defeated. Then what avails it to be wife? The plain and the artful man must both do their own work.-But I think I have got a life of Dr. Young.

Sufy and Sophy have had a fine Summer; it is a comfort to think that fomebody is happy. And they make verses, and act plays.

Mrs. Montague is, I think, in town, and has fent Mrs. Williams her annuity: but I hear nothing from her, but I may be contented if I hear from you, for

I am, &c.

LETTER CCLI,

To Mrs. T HRALE.

DEAR MADAM,

August 8, 1780,

WHAT do you fcold fo for about Gran

ville's life; do you not fee that the appendage neither gains nor faves any thing to me? I fhall have Young's life given me, to fpite you.

Methinks it was pity to fend the girls to school; they have indeed had a fine vacation, dear loves, but if it had been longer it had been ftill finer.

Did Mafter read my books? You fay nothing of him in this letter; but I hope he is well, and

growing

growing every day nearer to perfect health. When do you think of coming home?

I have not yet perfuaded myself to work, and therefore know not when my work will be done. Yet I have a mind to fee Lichfield. Dr. Taylor seems to be well. He has written to me without a fyllable of his lawsuit,

is

You have heard in the papers how ** come to age; I have enclosed a short fong of congratulation, which you must not fhow to any body. It is odd that it fhould come into any body's head. I hope you will read it with candour; it is, I believe, one of the author's firft effays in that way of writing, and a beginner is always to be treated with tenderness.

My two gentlewomen are both complaining. Mrs. Defmoulins had a mind of Dr. Turton; I fent for him, and he has prescribed for Mrs. Williams, but I do not find that he promises himself much credit from either of them.

I hope it will not be long before I shall have another little volume for you, and still there will be work undone. If it were not for thefe Lives, I think I could not forbear coming to look at you, now you have room for me. But I ftill think to ftay till I have cleared my hands.

Queeney is not good. She feldom writes to me, and yet I love her, and I love you all, for

I am, &c.

LETTER