will neither increase his benevolence to affift, nor his wisdom to advise.

Living on God, and on thyself rely.

Who fhould be truftee but for you, for your own and your children's pofterity? I hope this an end of this unpleafing fpeculation, and lighter matters may take their turn.

What Mr. Scrafe fays about the Borough is true, but is nothing to the purpofe. A houfe in the fquare will not coft fo much as building in Southwark; but buildings are more likely to go on in Southwark if your dwelling is at St. James's. Every body has fome defire that deferts the great road of profperity, to look for pleasure in a byepath. I do not fee with fo much indignation Mr. Thrale's defire of being the firft Brewer, as your despicable dread of living in the Borough. Ambition in little things, is better than cowardice in little things; but both these things, however little to the publick eye, are great in their confequences to yourselves. The world cares not how you brew, or where you live; but it is the business of tafting him. When he returns, let me fee him frolick and airy, and focial, and bufy, and as kind to me as in former times.

You feem to be afraid that I fhould be ftarved before you come back. I have indeed practifed abstinence with fome ftubbornnefs, and with fome fuccefs; but as Dryden talks of writing with a hat, I am fometimes very witty with a knife and fork. I have managed myfelf very well; except that having no motive, I have no exercife.

At home we do not much quarrel; but perhaps the lefs we quarrel the more we hate. There is as much malignity amongst us as can well fubfift, without any thoughts of daggers or poifons.

Mrs. is by the help of frequent operations still kept alive; and fuch is the capricious destiny of mortals, that she will die more lamented by her husband, than I will promise to usefulness, wisdom, or fanctity. There is always fomething operating distinct from diligence or fkill. Temple therefore in his compofition of a hero, to the heroick virtues adds good fortune.

I am, &c.

LETTER CCXXIV.

To Mrs. THRALE.

London, Nov. 20,, 1779.

ÎNDEED, dear Madam, I do not think that

you have any reafon to complain of Mr., or Mr. What I proposed is, I fuppofe, unusual. However, Mr. Thrale knows that I have fuggefted nothing to you that I had not firft faid to him. I hear he grows well fo faft, that we are not likely to try whose way is beft; and I hope he will grow better, and better, and better; and then away with executors and executrixes. He may fettle his family himself.

VOL. II.

F

I am

I am not vexed at you for not liking the Borough, but for not liking the Borough better than other evils of greater magnitude. You must take phyfick, or be fick; you muft live in the Borough, or live still worse.

Pray tell my Queeney how I love her for her letters; and tell Burney that now fhe is a good girl, I can love her again. Tell Mr. Scrafe, that I am fincerely glad to hear that he is better. Tell my master, that I never was fo glad to see him in my life, as I fhall be now to fee him well; and tell yourself, that except my master, nobody has more kindness for you, than,

Dear Madam,

Your, &c.

LETTER CCXXV.

To Mrs. THRAL E.

DEAREST LADY,

April 6, 1779.

You had written fo often. I have had but two letters from Bath, and the fecond complains that the first, which you call fo many, was ne glected, and you pretend to be afraid of being. forgotten. I wonder what fhould put you out of my mind. You fay rightly, that I fhall not find

fuch

fuch another; for there is not, if I had the choice of all, fuch another to be found.

It is happy, both for you and Mrs. Montague, that the fates bring you both to Bath at the fame time. Do not let new friends fupplant the old; they who first distinguished you have the best claim to your attention; those who flock about you now, take your excellence upon credit, and may hope to gain upon the world by your countenance.

I have not quite neglected my Lives. Addison is a long one, but it is done. Prior is not short, and that is done too. I am upon Rowe, who cannot fill much paper. If I have done them before you come again, I think to bolt upon you at Bath; for I fhall not be now afraid of Mrs. Cotton. Let Burney take care that she does me no harm.

The diligence of Dr. Moify I do not understand. About what is he diligent? If Mr. Thrale is well, or only not well because he has been ill, I do not fee what the phyfician can do. Does he direct any regimen, or does Mr. Thrale regulate himself? Or is there no regularity among you? Nothing can keep him so safe as the method which has been so often mentioned, and which will be not only practicable but pleasant in the Summer, and before Summer is quite gone, will be made supportable by cuftom.

If health and reafon can be preferved by changing three or four meals a week, or if fuch a change will but encrease the chances of preserving them, the purchase is furely not made at a very high price. Death is dreadful, and fatuity is more dreadful, and fuch ftrokes bring both fo near, that all their terrours ought to be felt. I hope that to our anxiety for him, Mr. Thrale will add fome anxiety for himself.

Seward called on me one day, and read Spence. I dined yesterday at Mr. Jodrel's in a great deal of company. On Sunday I dine with Dr. Lawrence, and at night go to Mrs. Vefey. I have had a little cold, or two, or three, but I did not much mind them, for they were not very bad.

Make my compliments to my master, and Queeney, and Burney, and Mrs. Cotton, and to all that care about me, and more than all-or elfe.

Now one courts you, and another careffes you, and one calls you to cards, and another wants you to walk; and amidst all this, pray try to think now and then a little of me, and write often. Mrs. Strahan is at Bath, but, I believe, not well enough to be in the rooms.

I am, dearest Madam,

Your, &c.

LETTER