to, mou Hess of having merited them. But, quite free from this, such marks of your friendship were very pleasing. You need not make use of any arguments to persuade me of the necessity of frequent writing; I am very willing to acknowledge it in a correspondence with you; though I never so little liked to write, in general, since I could write, as for some time past. Both my mind and body are much indisposed to this employment. The last is not so easy in the posture which habit has fixed when I write, and consequently the mind affected too. To you I always wish to appear in the best light; light; but you will excuse infirmities; and to purchase your letters I shall think my time happily bestowed. If but one line can give you pleasure or suspend pain, I shall rejoice. How kind was your last little letter! I longed to return my immediate thanks: but Mr. Fitzherbert's mother, an old lady, bigoted to forms, prevented me; and has prevented me till now. She came here, is here, and stays some time. I continue much better in my health, thank God! alert and cheerful; and have stood storms and tempests, rain and cold, unhurt. I observe the good doctor's rules, and have found them efficacious. Mr. Fitzherbert had appointed his time for being here as next week, but has changed it to near three weeks hence. Tell me some literary news-I mean of your own; for I am very indif ferent to the productions of others, but interested warmly in all yours, both in heart and mind. bas 90 1 19 "I hope our difference is only in words, or that in time our s sentiments will be so much the same as to make our expressions clear and plain. As you say, every moment brings the time nearer in which we must think alike. O may this time (or rather end of time to us which will fully disclose truth, also with it disclose eternal happiness to us! You see I cannot help praying for you, I am truly, dear sir, your affectionate friend, T. BOOTHBY. nor shall ever, as service, and has a $1929100 My little flock all well; Miss much at your high regard for you. If you mention me at the me as one who is always glad of paying regard there, and hearing well of them." LETTER XXV. "30th July, 1755. "DEAR SIR,-Why, my good friend, you are so bountiful and so kind that I must thank you, and say I am truly grateful, though I have not time for more, as I have been obliged to write several letters to-day, and cannot easily write much. Your account of Mr. Williams's departure was very sweet to me. He is happy without doubt, and, instead of condoling with, I most heartily rejoice with [When the term "sweet" is applied on such an occasion, it is not surprising that we meet strange expressions scattered through the correspondence.-ED.] Miss Williams from this assurance, which I trust she has as strongly as I, and then she must be every moment thankful.· o1 rozi szag! I "I am not so well as I have been. The damp weather has affected me. But my dear children are all well; and some sunshine will re vive me again. This is only to let you see I think of you, and, as I ought, receive every instance of your regard when I assure you it increases mine, and makes me more and more, dear sir, your grateful and affectionate friend, "H. BOOTH BY. "I will tell you some time what I think of Anacreon 1." And I was vain enough "DEAR SIR,-You was at Oxford then? to conclude you was not in town, or I should have heard from you sooner, and you have not lessened my vanity by thinking of and writing to me, in a place where so many objects suited to your taste would be courting your attention-so many of the learned seeking your conversation. This is a new obligation, of which I am very sensible. Yet I had rather seen a letter dated from Lichfield, because then I should have hoped soon to see Mr. Johnson himself, and for an opportunity of conversing with him. "I am at present preparing to receive Mr. Fitzherbert, Mr. and Mrs. Alleyne, Mr. Gernier, &c. If you have been in town this week, probably you have seen Mr. Fitzherbert. I hope he would not neglect to inquire after the most valuable acquaintance he has there. Our scene here will be much changed. But all is, and ought to be, variable in this life; and I expect the change with much inward tranquillity. The interval of rest and quiet I have had has greatly contributed to the amendment of my health. I walked a mile yesterday without great fatigue; and hope I shall be able to support the labours to come. I am not careful, however, for the morrow. That is in the hands of the almighty and all-merciful God. There I and pray- Give me this day my daily bread.' I trust Bd I 990's "Miss is still tuning-no wonder that you have inspired her with awe, She is disturbed she does not write; yet cannot satisfy herself 66 [Had he sent to Miss Boothby the translation of Anacreon's Dove, which he gave to Mrs. Thrale in 1777? When dictating it to that lady he said, "I never was much struck with any thing in the Greek language till I read that, so never read any thing in the same language since, that pleased me as much. I hope my translation,” continued he, "is not worse than that of Frank Fawkes." Seeing her disposed to laugh, Nay, she had finished 66 hay," said he, "Frank Fawkes has done them very finely." that though these writing, "But you must remember to add," said Dr. Johnson, t verses were planned, and even begun, when I was sixteen years old, I never could find time to make an end of them before I was sixty-eight."—ED.]idt squadro j J with any mental composition. She has yet been working for you. I leave her to herself, and hope she will produce something. T Remember that the more people I see the more I shall rejoice in a letter from you. Turtle-feasts and venison-feasts I delight not in. Treat me sometimes, as often as you can, with what will be really a feast; and in the best manner I am able I will thank you, and be ever, as now, dear sir, your grateful and affectionate friend, "DEAR SIR,—Every where I find myself in your thoughts—at Oxford-in town. How shall I reward this kind attention to a friend, this tender solicitude for her health and welfare? Your partiality will I know make you reply, by neglecting no means to procure and preserve them.' This is what I am sensible I owe to the most inconsiderable creature whom it pleases a good Providence to benefit in the last degree by me; and much more to a friend. Pain and sickness do most certainly produce the consequences you observe ; and often do I reflect with the greatest wonder and gratitude on all those various occasions in which it has pleased God to visit me with these, that he should never leave me without that medicine of lifea friend. I am glad you saw Mr. Fitzherbert, and that he repeated his invitation to Tissington. He and his company arrived here on Thursday last, all at a loss what to do with themselves in still life. They set out yesterday to Derby race, and return on Friday, with some forty more people, to eat a turtle; weight, a hundred and thirty. This feast I, who, you know, love eating, am preparing for them. It will be a day of fatigue. But then how sweet and comfortable it will be, to lie down and rest at night! The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eateth little or much. My business is to prepare a feast, not to eat. During the time of our having been here alone, I have found great good from rest and quiet, and the strength gained in this interval of repose enables me to support the hurry of company, and the necessary cares for their reception and entertainment, much better than I could do for a long time before I left London. But I am not so well as I was a fortnight since. The pain in my side is increased, as I find it will be on all occasions where I am obliged to prolong exercise to the least degree of fatigue, and in my present situation there is no avoiding these sometimes. But I have respite seasonably, thank God, as now. And next week Mr. Fitzherbert and his guests go to dance at Buxton, and see the Peak. You will perhaps think a tour round the Peak would be no bad thing for me; and I should think so too; but as this will be ordered, or ! disordered, by the uncertainty and irregularity of the directors, it will be a rash attempt for me; and, besides, they have only vehicles sufficient for themselves; so that I shall have another resting time, before they return again to stay a few days; and then they all go to Lichfield race, from whence Mr. Fitzherbert and Gernier only return back. Now, I have not only told you the state of my health, but of affairs here, that you may know both how I do, and what I do, “And, while I am writing all this, I really feel ashamed; conscious how little I merit to be thought of consequence enough for any body to desire such information concerning me, particularly you, who I am persuaded might select a friend among the most worthy. Do not call this feigned humility, or, in other words, the worst sort of pride. "Tis truth, I assure you. "Will you come into Derbyshire? But why do I ask? You say you will. In the mean time, I will endeavour, with God's blessing, to lay in a stock of health, that I may have the pleasure of walking with you in Dovedale, and many other pleasures I hope for. "You desire longer letters; here you have one-but such a one as I am afraid will not make you repeat that desire. However, it will be a proof of my willingness to gratify your request whenever it is in my power, and that I never say little to Mr. Johnson by choice, but when I can hear him talk. "The least degree of your quiet is a treasure which I shall take the utmost care of-but yet, from very certain experience, and the truest regard to your peace, I must advise to take it out of all human hands. Young's experience strongly speaks with mine— A broken reed, at best; but oft a spear; On its sharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires.' Yet such has been the amazing mercy of God to me, that now I can say It is good for me that I have been afflicted.' Looking over some old papers lately, I found two lines I had scratched out, which were prophetic of what has since happened to me "Variety of pain will make me know, That greatest bliss is drawn from greatest woe.' But this, perhaps, you say, is far from being a dissuasive. Why, as to the event here, 'tis indeed the contrary. But, in general, the disappointment and pain is certain, the event not so. There is no peace but that one which the Prince of Peace, king of Salem, left to his disciples-Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you.' No; for in another place, our Saviour says, 'In the world ye shall have tribulation' Seek, and you will surely find. You do me the honour to call me your monitress; and you see I endeavour to execute the duty of one. torali et og teum 1-robianos I yew T Peace and happiness here and for ever do I most ardently wish you; as I am truly, dear sir, your greatly obliged and affectionate friend, "H. BOOTHBY. "Miss's love. "N. B.-I intended to have concluded this, where I talked of a longer letter on the other side, but went on imperceptibly as it were. Remember you are a whole sheet in my debt after you receive this." 。"ད་ LETTER XXVIII. "8th September, 1755. " DEAR SIR,-It is as impossible for me to forbear writing, as it is to say a tenth part of what I would say. Two letters I have from you demand a vast deal; yet not more than I am willing to give, was Lable; but Mr. Fitzherbert has been at home above a week, and company, &c. have prevented my doing any thing but attend to domestic employments. I do not allow you to be a judge with regard to your conferring obligations. I am to judge and estimate in this case. But, now you know my thoughts, if the repetition displeases, I shall avoid it. ་? “Your letters are indeed very different from the common dialect of daily correspondence, and as different from the style of a school dogmatist. Much sense in few and well-chosen words. Daily correspondence does not commonly afford, nor a school dogmatist, delicate praise. So much for your letters. As to what you say of mine, dear sir, if they please you, I am perfectly satisfied. And, high as I rate your judgment, it gives me more pleasure to think I owe much of your applause to the partiality of a kind friend, than I should receive from unbiassed criticism; were it publicly to pronounce me superior to all the Arindas, Sevignés, &c. in epistolary excellence. "I have been fourteen miles to-day, was out by eight in the morning (some hours before your day begins), despatched several important things, am tired, but could not suffer another post to go without an assurance that I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend, and obliged one too, "H. BOOTHBY." 2 LETTER XXIX. "Tissington, 20th Sept., 1755. "DEAR SIR,-Were I at liberty, it would not be in my power to enhance the value of my letters by their scarcity. You should have them, till you cried out Hold your hand.' But you cannot imagine the half of what I have to do; and I assure you I have on your account put off writing to others from time to time, till now I am ashamed. Be silent at Dr. Lawrence's as to me, for I have been long in debt there: I intended to have paid to-day, but you won't let me. This way I consider-I must go to Derby on Monday, to stay some |