I desired to know his reasons for decrying some works which had afforded me uncommon pleasure ; and, as demonstration did not seem to be his talent, I dissented from his opinion with great freedom. Having been spoiled by the deference and humility of his hearers, he did not bear contradiction with much temper; and the dispute might have grown warm, had it not been interrupted by the entrance of a rival bard, at whose appearance he always quits the place. They are of different cabals, and have been at open war these twenty years. If the other was dogmatical, this genius was declamatory; he did not discourse, but harangue; and his orations were equally tedious and turgid. He too pronounced ex cathedra upon the characters of his contemporaries; and though he scruples not to deal out praise, even lavishly, to the lowest reptile in Grub Street, who will either flatter him in private, or mount the public rostrum as his panegyrist, he damns all the other writers of the age with the utmost insolence and rancour.-One is a blunderbuss, as being a native of Ireland; another a half-starved louse of literature, from the banks of the Tweed; a third, an ass, because he enjoys a pension from government; a fourth, the very angel of dulness, because he succeeded in a species of writing in which this Aristarchus had failed; a fifth, who presumed to make strictures upon one of his performances, he holds as a bug in criticism, whose stench is more offensive than his sting. In short, except himself and

his myrmidons, there is not a man of learning or genius in the three kingdoms. As for the success of those who have written without the pale of this confederacy, he imputes it entirely to want of taste in the public; not considering, that to the approbation of that very tasteless public, he himself owes all the consequence he has in life.

Those originals are not fit for conversation. If they would maintain the advantage they have gained by their writing, they should never appear but upon paper. For my part, I am shocked to find a man have sublime ideas in his head, and nothing but illiberal sentiments in his heart. The human soul will be generally found most defective in the article of candour. I am inclined to think no mind was ever wholly exempt from envy; which, perhaps, may have been implanted, as an instinct essential to our nature. I am afraid we sometimes palliate this vice, under the specious name of emulation. I have known a person remarkably generous, humane, moderate, and apparently self-denying, who could not hear even a friend commended, without betraying marks of uneasiness; as if that commendation had implied an odious comparison to his prejudice; and every wreath of praise added to the other's character, was a garland plucked from his own temples. This is a malignant species of jealousy, of which I stand acquitted in my own conscience. Whether it is a vice or an infirmity, I leave you to inquire.

There is another point, which I would much rather see determined; whether the world was always as contemptible as it appears to me at present? If the morals of mankind have not contracted an extraordinary degree of depravity within these thirty years, then must I be infected with the common vice of old men, difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti; or, which is more probable, the impetuous pursuits and avocations of youth have formerly hindered me from observing those rotten parts of human nature, which now appear so offensively to my observation.

We have been at court, and 'Change, and every where; and every where we find food for spleen, and

subject for ridicule. My new servant, Humphry

Clinker, turns out a great original, and Tabby is a changed creature. She has parted with Chowder, and does nothing but smile, like Malvolio in the play. I'll be hanged if she is not acting a part which is not natural to her disposition, for some purpose which I have not yet discovered.

With respect to the characters of mankind, my curiosity is quite satisfied. I have done with the science of men, and must now endeavour to amuse myself with the novelty of things. I am, at present, by a violent effort of the mind, forced from my natural bias; but this power ceasing to act, I shall return to my solitude with redoubled velocity. Every thing I see, and hear, and feel, in this great reservoir of folly, knavery, and sophistication, contributes to enhance

the value of a country life, in the sentiments of yours always,

LONDON, JUNE 2.

MATT. BRAMBLE.

TO MRS MARY JONES,

AT BRAMBLETONHALL.

Dear Mary Jones, - Lady Griskin's botler, Mr Crumb, having got Squire Barton to frank me a kiver, I would not neglect to let you know how it is with me, and the rest of the family.

I could not rite by John Thomas, for because he went away in a huff, at a minute's warning. He and Chowder could not agree, and so they fitt upon the road, and Chowder bit his thumb, and he swore he would do him a mischief, and he spoke saucy to mistress, whereby the Squire turned him off in gudgeon; and by God's providence we picked up another footman, called Umphry Klinker; a good sole as ever broke bread; which shews, that a scalded cat may prove a good mouser, and a hound be stanch, thof he has got narro hare on his buttocks; but the proudest nose may be bro't bao'r to the grinestone by sickness and misfortunes.

O Molly! what shall I say of London? All the towns that ever I beheld in my born-days are no more than Welsh barrows and crumlecks to this wonderful sitty! even Bath itself is but a fillitch, in

the naam of God.-One would think there's no end of the streets, but the Land's End. Then there's such a power of people, going hurry skurry! such a racket of coxes! such a noise and halli-balloo! so many strange sites to be seen! O gracious! my poor Welsh brain has been spinning like a top ever since I came hither! and I have seen the park, and the paleass of Saint Gimses, and the king's and the queen's magisterial pursing, and the sweet young princes, and the hillyfents, and pye bald ass, and all the rest of the royal family.

Last week I went with mistress to the Tower, to see the crowns and wild beastis; and there was a monstracious lion, with teeth half a quarter long; and a gentleman bid me not go near him, if I wasn't a maid; being as how he would roar, and tear, and play the dickens. Now I had no mind to go near him; for I cannot abide such dangerous honeymils, not I—but mistress would go; and the beast kept such a roaring and bouncing, that I tho't he would a broke his cage, and devoured us all; and the gentleman tittered forsooth; but I'll go to death upon it, I will, that my lady is as good a firchin as the child unborn; and therefore either the gentleman told a phib, or the lion oft to be set in the stocks for bearing false witness again his neighbour; for the commandment sayeth, Thou shalt not bear false witness again thy neighbour.

I was afterwards of a party at Sadler's Wells, where I saw such tumbling and dancing upon ropes