see the evening of a day spent in diversion improve into friendship. The various pleasures the general world can give us, are nothing in comparison of the collected comforts of friendship. The first play round the head, but come not to the heart; the last are intensely felt: however, both these kinds of pleasures are necessary to our satisfaction. If we would be more merry than wise, we may be imprudent; but to increase the critical knowledge that increases sorrow, is not the desire or boast, but the misfortune and complaint, of the truly wise. It is really a misfortune to be above the bagatelle; a scorn of trifles may make us despise grey heads, mitred heads, nay, perhaps, crowned heads; it may teach us to take a little man from his great estate, a lord-mayor from his great coach, a judge out of his long wig, a chiefjustice from his chair; it may even penetrate a crowd of courtiers, till we reach the very heart of the prime minister. It is best to admire and not to understand the world. Like a riddle, by its mystery rather than by its meaning, it affords a great deal of amusement till understood, and then but a very poor and scanty satisfaction. To the farmer every ear of wheat is bread; the thrasher, by dint of labour, finds out it is half chaff; the miller, a man of still nicer inquiry, discovers that not a quarter of it will bear the sifting; the baker knows it is liable to a thousand accidents, before it can be made into bread. Thus it is in the great harvest of life; reckon that lofty stem on which greatness grows, and all that envelop it, as a part of the golden grain, and it makes a good figure; and thus sees the common eye. The nicer inquirer

discerns how much of the fair appearance wants intrinsic value, and that when it is sifted there remains but little of real worth, and even that little is with difficulty moulded to good use. Do not let you and I encourage this sharpness of sight; let the vision come to us through the grossest medium, and every little object borrow bulk and colour: let all be magnified, multiplied, varied, and beautified by opinion, and the mistaken eye of prejudice: thus will the world appear a gay scene; as indulgent spectators we will call every trick a scheme, and every little wish ambition. I am mortified at your not coming to town; I hoped I should have seen you and Mrs. Freind this spring, but as that cannot be, let me hear often from you. I long to hear my little cousin is well. The dean of Exeter is no more, he died yesterday, Mr. Hay told me, upon hearing me say I should write to you to-day, that he would have me tell you, from him, that Mr. Hume is to be prebend of Westminster; Dr. Holmes to be dean of Exeter, in the room of Dr. Clark; the speaker's chaplain is made prebend of Windsor in the room of Dr. Lewis: it is said Dr. Hutton or Dr. Willes is to have Westminster, whoever is made bishop. Mr. Hay says, if you would know any thing more he will write to you; he seems to have a great regard for you. I hear it would be much easier for you to get something new than any thing which your father has had, as it is a precedent that may open a door to solicitations from persons who have not the reason to expect that consideration which your good, and your father's great and excellent character require consider this and don't be

slack! I know you do not think half enough of your interest. The bell rings, else I could be so impertinent as to advise. Forgive the zeal of a sincere friend and well-wisher.

E. ROBINSON.

My kindest thoughts attend on my cousin.

LETTER XI.

FROM MRS. ELIZABETH MONTAGU TO THE DUCHESS OF PORTLAND.

MADAM,

Hayton, May 5,

In this wicked world your grace will see honest sincerity go generally worse dressed than flattery. In the true affection of my heart, I am going to write a long letter upon paper ungilded and unadorned; but truth, as your friend, may visit you in a dishabille; and by the length of my paper, and its homeliness, I compliment you with the opinion of your having two rare virtues, patience and humility, to endure and accept such an epistle. I had the pleasure of my lord duke's letter yesterday; all the contents were agreeable, and especially your commands to write, though I am not just in the situation one would wish a correspondent. I wish you could see the furniture of my desk, which is all eaten by the worms. My pen has served the good old man for his accounts these forty years; I can hardly make it write any thing but imprimis, item, ditto; if I would thank your grace for the many obligations I have received,

it is ready to write a receipt in full; or would, I express that you have my entire affection and esteem, it is going to write, for value received; and when I would enumerate your favours, it is in haste to run to the sum total. I believe since the pen was dipped in ink it never made a compliment, or was employed to express one generous sentiment of friendship. It has been worn out in the service of gain; to note pounds, shillings, and pence, with the balance on the side of profit, has been its business. I hear the burlesque of sweet Pamela and her dear master is very droll; if it has ridiculed them as well as it has Dr. Middleton and his hero, I fancy it must be diverting; but high things are better burlesqued than low; the dedication was really admirable, and I fancy must mortify both the author and the patron. Indeed I believe my friend was the first man that ever com. plimented a gentleman upon not cramming till he was sick, and not lying in bed longer than he could sleep; but flattery must be at the dinner and the levee of the great. I wish lord H- -y may not get the cholic with his vegetable diet; as it turns to vanity and wind, he will be too much puffed up with it. I cannot imagine, after this, how the doctor can ever dedicate a book to the duke of Newcastle, unless he says, as Pope does, that by various methods they aim at praise, and that

"Lucullus, when frugality could charm,

Had roasted turnips in the Sabine farm."

I believe many great men have been celebrated for their banquets, but my lord H has the honour of being the first who ever recommended

himself to an author by his fasting. I had the pleasure yesterday of a long letter from my sister: her eyes are perfectly well, but she has not made any use of them but in writing to me; and, I must tell you, her care made her steep her letter in vinegar, for fear it should prove as fatal as Pandora's present. The caution diverted me extremely, for I thought the letter seemed as if it had been sent for a broken forehead. My mamma made me the first visit last Wednesday. If the weather was more mild I might soon hope to meet my sister, but it confines her at home. I had the satisfaction of hearing from my brother Robinson, last post, that he finds great benefit by the Bath waters; but while I was rejoicing at this good news, he informed me Mrs. Freind had just lost her little daughter by an unhappy accident. I know hers and Mr. Freind's tenderness to be such, that they will be extremely grieved at it, and the aggravation of its not being in the common order of nature will add much to the affliction. If your grace continues to exhort me to write, you must not be surprised if I entertain you with the conversation of the place I am in; you may expect a very good receipt to make cheese and syllabub, or, for your more elegant entertainment, a treatise upon the education of turkeys. I would catch you some butterflies, but I have not seen any pretty ones. I have ordered people upon all our coasts to seek for shells, but have not yet got any pretty ones: if Neptune knew your grace wanted some, be would send his maids of honour, the Nereides, to look for them, and Proteus would take the shape of a shell in hopes of having a place in your