advantage which she will derive from them depends almost entirely on herself. You must not, you shall not, think yourself unworthy to write to any man: there is none whom your correspondence would not amuse and satisfy. I will not undertake a task, which my taste would adopt, and my indolence would too soon relinquish; but I am really curious, from the best motives, to have a particular account of your own studies and daily occupation. What books do you read, and how do you employ your time and your pen? Except some professed scholars, I have often observed that women in general read much more than men; but, for want of a plan, a method, a fixed object, their reading is of little benefit to themselves or others. If you will inform me of the species of reading to which you have the most propensity, I shall be happy to contribute my share of advice or assistance. lament that you have not left me some monument of your pencil. Lady Elizabeth Foster has executed a very pretty drawing, taken from the door of the greenhouse where we dined last summer, and including the poor Acacia (now recovered from the cruel shears of the gardener), the end of the terrace, the front of the pavilion, and a distant view of the country, lake, and mountains. I am almost reconciled to d'Apples house, which is nearly finished. Instead of the monsters which Lord Hercules Sheffield extirpated, the terrace is already shaded with the new acacias and plantanes; and although the uncertainty of possession restrains me from building, I myself have planted a bosquet at the bottom

I

of the garden, with such admirable skill that it affords shade without intercepting prospect. The society of the aforesaid Eliza, of the Duchess of Devonshire, &c. has been very interesting; but they are now flown beyond the Alps, and pass the winter at Pisa. The Legards, who have long since left this place, should be at present in Italy; but I believe Mrs. Grimstone and her daughter returned to England. The Levades are highly flattered by your remembrance. Since you still retain some attachment to this delightful country, and it is indeed delightful, why should you despair of seeing it once more? The happy peer or commoner, whose name you may assume, is still concealed in the book of fate; but, whosoever he may be, he will cheerfully obey your commands of leading you from

Castle to Lausanne, and from Lausanne to Rome and Naples. Before that event takes place, I may possibly see you in Sussex; and, whether as a visiter or a fugitive, I hope to be welcomed with a friendly embrace. The delay of this year was truly painful, but it was inevitable; and individuals must submit to those storms which have overturned the thrones of the earth. The tragic story of the Archbishop of Arles I have now somewhat a better right to require at your hands. I wish to have it in all its horrid details; and as you are now so much mingled with the French exiles, I am of opinion, that were you to keep a journal of all the authentic facts which they relate, it would be an agreeable exercise at present, and a future source of entertainment and instruction.

I should be obliged to you if you would make, or find, some excuse for my not answering a letter from your aunt, which was presented to me by Mr. Fowler. I showed him some civilities, but he is now a poor invalid, confined to his room. By her channel and yours I should be glad to have some information of the health, spirits, and situation of Mrs. Gibbon, of Bath, whose alarms (if she has any) you may dispel. She is in my debt. Adieu; most truly yours.

TOPHAM BEAUCLERK, ESQ. TO THE EARL OF CHARLEMONT.

MY DEAR LORD, Muswell Hill, July 5th, 1773. IT is certainly ordained by fate that I should always appear in a state of humiliation before you, nothing else could have prevented me from writing to you, and endeavouring thereby to keep up an intercourse with one for whom I shall always retain the greatest and tenderest regard; lessening in some measure the greatest of all human evils, the separation from those we love; but that insuperable idleness, which accompanies me through life, which not only prevents me from doing what I ought, but likewise from enjoying my greatest pleasure, where any thing is to be done, has hitherto prevented me from writing; but if I obtain your pardon this time, I will, for the future, mend my manners, and try, by one act at least, to be worthy of that friendship which you have honoured me with. I need not

assure you that I most ardently wish to visit you this summer in Ireland; nothing but Lady Di.'s illness shall prevent me. I have been but once at the club since you left England; we were entertained, as usual, by Dr. Goldsmith's absurdity. Mr. V. can give you an account of it. Sir Joshua Reynolds intends painting your picture over again; so you may set your heart at rest for some time; it is true, it will last so much the longer, but then you may wait these ten years for it. Elmsly gave me a commission from you about Mr. Walpole's frames for prints, which is perfectly unintelligible: I wish you would explain it, and it shall be punctually executed. The Duke of Northumberland has promised me a pair of his new pheasants for you, but you must wait till all the crowned heads in Europe have been served first.-I have been at the review at Portsmouth. If you had seen it, you would have owned that it is a very pleasant thing to be a king. It is true, made a job of the claret

to

who furnished the first tables with vinegar, under that denomination. Charles Fox said that Lord Sandwich should have been impeached: what an abominable world do we live in, that there should not be above half a dozen honest men in the world, and that one of those should live in Ireland. You will, perhaps, be shocked at the small portion of honesty that I allot to your country; but a sixth part is as much as comes to its share; and, for any thing I know to the contrary, the other five may be in Ireland

* Mr. Agmondesham Vesey, of Lucan, near Dublin.

too, for I am sure I do not know where else to find them. Your philanthropy engages you to think well of the greatest part of mankind; but every year, every hour, adds to my misanthropy, and I have had a pretty considerable share of it for some years past. Leave your parliament and your nation to shift for itself, and consecrate that time to your friends, which you spend in endeavouring to promote the interest of half a million of scoundrels. Since, as Pope says,

Life can little else supply,

Than just to look about us and to die.

Do not let us lose that moment that we have, but let us enjoy all that can be enjoyed in this world; the pleasures of a true uninterrupted friendship.--Let us leave this island of fog and iniquity, and sail to purer regions, not yet quite corrupted by European manners. It is true, you must leave behind you Marino, and your medals, but you will likewise leave behind you the S-s and R-by's of this place. I know you will say, you can do all this without flying to the other pole, by shunning the society of such wretches; but what avails it to me, that you are the very man I could wish, when I am separated from you by sea and land? If you will quit Marino, and sail with me, I will fly from Almack's, though, whatever evil I may have suffered from my connexion with that place, I shall always with gratitude remember that there I first began my acquaintance with you; and in the very sincerity of truth I can say, that I would rather