Mr. Scrafe is the comfort of our lives here. Driven from bufinefs by ill health, he concentrates his powers now to serve private friends. For true vigour of mind, for invariable attachment to thofe he has long loved, for penetration to find the right way, and fpirit to pursue it, I have feen none exceed him. How much more valuable is fuch a character than that of a polite scholar, your belles lettres man, who would never have known that bees made honey, had not Virgil written his Georgicks?

Your vifiting ticket has been left very completely in Wales. Was it the fashion to leave cards in Prior's time? I thought not-Yet he feems to allude to the custom, when he fays, People

Should in life's vifit leave their name;
And in the writing take great care
That all was full, and round, and fair.

The Welch, I once told you, would never be ungrateful-a-propos, I am not myself half grateful enough to Mr. Fitzmaurice, for his unfought and undeferved civilities towards me, concerning my old house and pictures in Wales.-Though you defpife them, you do

not,

not, I am fure, defpife me for defiring that he should be pleafed. So now do pray help to discharge some of my debts of politeness, and write him a pretty letter on his fon's birth-and get it finished, figned, fealed, and delivered at furtheft-before the boy comes of age, if you can.

My friend **** is dying, fure enough; but dear Mrs. * * * * * need be in no concern for his future ftate, on the fame fcore fhe trembled for her husband's: do you remember how prettily fhe congratulated me that my mother would go to heaven, while poor, fays fhe, God knows what will become of bim! for if it were not for the Mayoril he would never have known Chriftmas from Whitfuntide. Ah! dear Sir, and don't you think I prize you more, now I have loft my last surviving parent ?-Such a parent !—Yes, yes-one may have twenty children, but amor defcendit, it is by one's father and mother alone that one is loved. I, poor folitary wretch! have no regard now from any one, except what I can purchafe by good behaviour, or flattery, or inceffant fatigue of attention, and be worked at befides, fick or well, with intolerable diligence, or else I lose even D 2 you,

you, whom I daily efteem more, as I fee the virtue of fome fo diluted by folly, and the understanding of others fo tainted by vice. I am now far from happy, yet I dress, and dance, and do my beft to fhew others how merry I am.- -It is the Winter robin that twitters though, not the Summer throftle that fings.

I long to come home, but wherever I am depend on my being ever,

DEAR SIR,

Your most obedient fervant,

H. L. THRALE.

Mr. Scrafe gives us fine fruit; I wished you my pear yesterday, but then what would one pear have done for

you?

LETTER CXCVII.

Το Mrs. THRAL E.

DEAREST MADAM,

Nov. 14, 1778.

HEN I really think I fhall be very glad to

ΤΗ fee you all fafe at home. I fhall eafily

forgive my master his long stay, if he leaves the dog behind him. We will watch, as well as we can, that the dog fhall never be let in again, for when he comes the first thing he does is to worry my mafter. This time he gnawed him to the bone. Content, faid Rider's almanack, makes a man richer than the Indies. But furely he that has the Indies in his poffeffion, may without very much philofophy make himself content. So much for master and his dog, a vile one it is, but I hope if he is not hanged he is drowned; with another lufty shake he will pick my mafter's

heart out.

my

I have begun to take valerian; the two last nights I took an ounce each night—a very loathfome quantity. Dr. Lawrence talked of a decoction, but I fay, all or nothing. The D 3

firft

first night I thought myself better, but the next it did me no good.

Young Desmoulines fays, he is fettled at a weekly pay of twenty-five fhillings, about forty pounds a-year. Mr. Macbean has no business. We have tolerable concord at home, but no love. Williams hates every body. Levet hates Defmoulines, and does not love Williams. Defmoulines hates them both.

Poll loves none of them.

Dr. Burney had the luck to go to Oxford the only week in the year when the library is fhut up. He was however very kindly treated; as one man is tranflating Arabick, and another Welsh, for his fervice. Murphy told me that you wrote to him about Evelina. Francis wants to read it.

And on the 26th Burney is to bring me. Pray why fo? Is it not as fit that I fhould bring Burney? My mafter is in his old lunes, and fo am I.

Well, I do not much

care how it is, and yet―at it again.

Pray make my compliments to Mr. Scrafe. He has many things which I wish to have, his knowledge of business and of the law. He has likewise a great chair. Such an one my

Mafter