go to Blackmore's

I will end my letter and life, when I have told you that

I am, &c.

LETTER CCXLIX.

To Mrs. THRAL E.

London, July 27, 1780.

A

ND 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 stopped your hand from writing, comes a letter to tell me, that I fuffer by my own fault. As if I might not correspond 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 trusted; 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.

I

As the workmen are ftill at Streatham, there is no likelihood of feeing you and my mafter in any short time; but let my mafter be where he will fo he be well. I am not, 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 see me. I do not always fleep well; but I have no pain nor sickness in the night. Perhaps I only fleep ill because I am too long a-bed.

I dined yesterday at Sir Joshua's with Mrs. Cholmondely, and she 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 Sunday I was with Dr. Lawrence and his two fifters-in-law, to dine with Mr. Gat Putney. The Doctor cannot hear in a coach better than in a room, and it was but a

17

dull

dull day; only I saw 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 the thinks, better. Mrs. Defmoulins has a diforder resembling an asthma; which I am for curing with calomel and jalap, but Mr. Levet treats it with antimonial wine. Mr. Levet keeps on his legs ftout, and walks, I suppose, ten miles a-day.

I ftick pretty well to diet, and defire my mafter may be told of it; for no man said oftener than he, that the less we eat the bet

ter.

Poor

Lord

after having thrown away -'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

ufeful,

ufeful, fomething was to be done by the Bishop of London, which has been refused. Thus is the world filled with hope and fear, and ftruggle, and disappointment.

Pray do

you never add to the other vexations, any diminution of your kindness for,

Madam,

Your, &c.

I

LETTER CCL.

Το Mrs. THRAL E.

MADAM,

London, August 1, 1780.

HAD your letter about Mr. S

and

Mifs O; but there was nothing to which I had any anfwer, 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,

was, that he who in that cafe should once eat I keep my

too much, might eat no more. 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 seventy? 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 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 muft both do their own. work,

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