turned it over, than read it (but no matter: no more have they), it seems to me above the middleing, and now and then (but for a little while) rises even to the best, particularly in description. It is often obscure, and even unintelligible, and too much infected with the Hutchinson-jargon; in short its great fault is that it was published at least nine years too early; and so methinks in a few words, à la mode du temple, I have very pertly dispatched what perhaps may for several years have employed a very ingenious man worth fifty of myself. Here is a small poem, called the "Enthusiast,"1 which is all pure description, and as they tell me by the same hand. Is it so, or not? Item, a more bulky one upon "Health," wrote by a physician: do you know him? Master Tommy Lucretius (since you are so good to enquire after the child) is but a puleing chitt yet, not a bit grown to speak of, I believe, poor thing! it has got the worms, that will carry it off at last. Oh Lord! I forgot to tell you, that Mr. Trollope and I are in a course of tarwater, he for his present, and I for my future dis

1 "The Enthusiast, or the Lover of Nature," by Joseph Warton.

2 The Art of preserving Health," a Didactic Poem, by John Armstrong, 1744.

3 Master Tommy Lucretius seems to be the Author's more familiar name for the Poem, "De Principiis Cogitandi." The reader is requested to compare all the latter part of this Letter, with that, which is intended to represent it in Mason's Edition. The passage about Socrates is so altered by Mason, as to be but little short of perfect nonsense.--[Mit.] Mitford misdated this Letter 1746.-[Ed.]

tempers; if think it will kill me, send away a

you

man and horse directly, for I drink like a fish. I should be glad to know how your

give you joy of it.

goes on, and

You are much in the right to have a taste for Socrates, he was a divine man. I must tell you, by way of the news of the place, that the other day, Mr. Traigneau (entering upon his Professorship) made an apology for him an hour long in the schools, and all the world, except Trinity College, brought in Socrates guilty. Adieu, Dr Sir, and believe me your Friend and Servant, T. G.

Cambridge, Thursday, April 26 [endorsed 1744].

L. TO THOMAS WHARTON.

MY DEAR WHARTON-This is only to entreat you would order mes gens to clean out the apartments, spread the carpets, air the beds, put up the tapestry, unpaper the frames, etc.; fit to receive a great potentate, who comes down in the flying coach, drawn by green dragons on Friday, the 10th instant. As the ways are bad, and the dragons a little out of repair (for they don't actually fly; but only go, like a lame ostrich, something between a hop and a trot) it will probably be late when he lands, so he would not choose to be known, and desires there may be no bells, nor bonfires. But as persons incog. love to be seen, he will slip into the coffee-house. Is Mr. Trol

lope among you? good lack! he will pull off my head for never writing to him, oh Conscience, Conscience!

I AM not lost; here am I at Stoke, whither I came on Tuesday, and shall be again in town on Saturday, and at Cambridge on Wednesday or Thursday, you may be anxious to know what has past. I wrote a note the night I came, and immediately received a very civil answer. I went the following evening to see the party (as Mrs. Foible says), was something abashed at his confidence: he came to meet me, kissed me on both sides with all the ease of one, who receives an acquaintance just come out of the country, squatted me into a Fauteuil, begun to talk of the town and this and that and t'other, and continued with little interruption for three hours, when I took my leave very indifferently pleased, but treated with wondrous good breeding. I supped with him next night (as he desired) Ashton 1 was there, whose formalities tickled me inwardly, for he I found was to be angry about the letter I had wrote him. However in going home together our hackney-coach jumbled us into a sort of reconciliation: he hammered out somewhat like an excuse; and I received it very readily, because I cared not twopence, whether it were true or not. So we

1 See Walpole's Letter to Mann, vol. ii. p. 371.-[Ed.]

grew the best acquaintance imaginable, and I sat with him on Sunday some hours alone, when he informed me of abundance of anecdotes much to my satisfaction, and in short opened (I really believe) his heart to me with that sincerity, that I found I had still less reason to have a good opinion of him, than (if possible) I ever had before. Next morning I breakfasted alone with Mr. W[alpole]; when we had all the eclaircissement1 I ever expected, and I left him far better satisfied, than I had been hitherto. When I return, I shall see him again. Such is the epitome of my four days. Mr. and Mrs. Simms and Made. Nanny have done the honours of Leaden Hall to a miracle, and all join in a compliment to the Doctor. Your brother is well, the books are in good condition. Madme. Chenevix has frightened me with Ecritoires she asks three

1 It appears by this Letter, that the reconciliation which is mentioned as having taken place between Gray and Walpole, was (as far at least as the former was concerned) rather an act of civility and good manners, than the re-establishment of a cordial and sincere attachment. I am now, by the kindness of a gentleman, to whom I have been more than once obliged, enabled to lay before the public the real cause of their separation, on the authority of the late Mr. Isaac Reed; in whose handwriting, in Wakefield's Life of Gray, is the following note : "Mr. Roberts, of the Pell-office, who was likely to be well informed, told me at Mr. Deacon's, 19th April 1799. That the quarrel between Gray and Walpole was occasioned by a suspicion Mr. Walpole entertained, that Mr. Gray had spoken ill of him to some friends in England. To ascertain this, he clandestinely opened a letter, and resealed it, which Mr. Gray, with great propriety, resented; there seems to have been but little cordiality afterwards between them."-[Mit.]

guineas for, that are not worth three half-pence: I have been in several shops and found nothing pretty. I fear it must be bespoke at last.

The day after I went you received a little letter directed to me, that seems wrote with a skewer, please to open it, and you'll find a receipt of Dan. Adcock for ten pound, wch I will beg you to receive of Gillham for me. If the letter miscarried, pray take care the money is paid to no one else. I expect to have a letter from you when I come to town, at your lodgings. Adieu, S. I am sincerely yours,

Stoke, Thursday, [post-mark 16th Nov.]

T. G.

[endorsement 1744 or 1745.]

LII. TO JOHN CHUTE-FRAGMENT.

Jews-harp, ask Mr. Whithed, whither when he goes to Heaven, he does not expect to see all his favourite Hens, all his dear little Pouls, untimely victims of the pot and the spit, come pipping and gobling in a melodious voice about him; I know he does; there's nothing so natural. Poor Conti! is he going to be a Cherub? I remember here (but he was not ripe then) he had a very promising squeak with him, and that his mouth, when open, made an exact square. I have never been at Ranelagh Gardens since they were opened (for what does it signify to me), but they do not succeed, people see it once, or twice, and so they go to Vauxhall; well, but is not