under such regulations of order and sobriety as shall be both a credit to himself and an example to others. The next time we go, Hannah is to carry some of her writing; she is to have a little table to herself, and to continue her studies: and he is to do the same.

The following extracts are from the letters of Hannah More to her family.

London, 1776.

I dined in the Adelphi yesterday. It was a particular occasion-an annual meeting, where nothing but men are usually asked. I was however of the party, and an agreeable day it was to me. I have seldom heard so much wit, under the banner of so much decorum. I mention this, because I was told it was a day of license, and that everybody was to say what they pleased. Colman and Dr. Schomberg were of the party; the rest were chiefly old doctors of divinity. I had a private whisper that I must dine there again to-day, to assist at the celebration of the birth-day. We had a little snug dinner in the library. At six, I begged leave to come home, as I expected my petite assemblée a little after seven. Mrs. Garrick offered me all her fine things, but, as I hate admixtures of finery and meanness, I refused every thing except a little cream and a few sorts of cakes. They came at seven. The dramatis persona were Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. Garrick, and Miss Reynolds; my beaux were Dr. Johnson, Dean Tucker, and last, but not least in our love, David Garrick. You know that wherever Johnson is, the confinement to the tea-table is rather a durable situation; and it was an hour and a half before I got my enlargement. However, my ears were opened, though my tongue was locked, and they all staid till near eleven.

Garrick was the very soul of the company, and I never saw Johnson in such perfect good-humour. Sally knows we have often heard that one can never properly enjoy the company of these two unless they are together. There is great truth in this remark; for after the dean and Mrs. Boscawen (who were the only strangers) were withdrawn, and the rest stood up to go, Johnson and Garrick began a close encounter telling old stories, "e'en from their boyish days” at Lichfield. We all stood round them above an hour, laughing, in defiance of every rule of decorum and Chesterfield. I believe we should not have thought of sitting down or of parting, had not an impertinent watchman been saucily vociferous. Johnson outstaid them all, and sat with me half an hour.

I'll tell you the most ridiculous circumstance in the world. After dinner Garrick took up the Monthly Review (civil gentlemen, by-the-by, these Monthly Reviewers), and read "Sir Eldred" with all his pathos and all his graces. I think I never was so ashamed in my life; but he read it so superlatively,

that I cried like a child. Only think what a scandalous thing, to cry at the reading of one's own poetry! I could have beaten myself; for it looked as if I thought it very moving, which, I can truly say, is far from being the case. But the beauty of the jest lies in this: Mrs. Garrick twinkled as well as I, and made as many apologies for crying at her husband's reading, as I did for crying at my own verses. She got out of the scrape by pretending she was touched at the story, and I by saying the same thing of the reading. It furnished us with a great laugh at the catastrophe, when it would really have been decent to have been a little sorrowful.

London, 1776.

Did I ever tell you what Dr. Johnson said to me of my friend the Dean of Gloucester? I asked him what he thought of him. His answer was verbatim as follows: "I look upon the Dean of Gloucester to be one of the few excellent writers of this period. I differ from him in opinion, and have expressed that difference in my writings; but I hope what I wrote did not indicate what I did not feel, for I felt no acrimony. No person, however learned, can read his writings without improvement. He is sure to find something he did not know before." I told him the dean did not value himself on elegance of style.* He said he knew nobody whose style was more perspicuous, manly, and vigorous, or better suited to his subject. I was not a little pleased with this tribute to the worthy dean's merit, from such a judge of merit; that man, too, professedly differing from him in opinion.

Would you believe it? In the midst of all the pomps and vanities of this wicked town, I have taken it into my head to study like a dragon; I read four or five hours every day, and wrote ten hours yesterday. How long this will last I do not know-but I fear no longer than the bad weather. I wish you could see a picture Sir Joshua has just finished, of the prophet Samuel on his being called. "The gaze of young astonishment" was never so beautifully expressed. Sir Joshua tells me that he is exceedingly mortified when he shows this picture to some of the great-they ask him who Samuel was? I told him he must get somebody to make an Oratorio of Samuel, and then it would not be vulgar to confess they knew something of him. He said he was glad to find that I was intimately acquainted with that devoted prophet. He has also done a St. John, that bids fair for immortality. I tell him that

*Hannah More having once asked the dean, Whether it might not be advisable to polish his style rather more? "Oh, no," he replied, "they don't expect a fine style from me. All that I care for are the authenticity of my facts, and the truth of my principles." He never failed to communicate his political pamphlets to her; and when she represented to him that such subjects were out of the reach of her comprehension, he would answer, "Pish! no such thing! common sense will ever appeal to common sense."

VOL. I.-C

I hope the poets and painters will at last bring the Bible into fashion, and that people will get to like it from taste, though they are insensible to its spirit, and afraid of its doctrines. I love this great genius, for not being ashamed to take his subjects from the most unfashionable of all books.

Keeping bad company leads to all other bad things. I have got the headache to-day, by raking out so late with that gay libertine Johnson. Do you know-I did not, that he wrote a quarter of the Adventurer? I made him tell me all that he wrote in the "fugitive pieces."

De L'Olme told me he thought Johnson's late political pamphlets were the best things he had written; but I regret that such men should ever write a word of politics.

Mrs. Garrick has obtained a ticket to carry me to the Pantheon with her and a party; but I could not get the better of my repugnance to these sort of places, and she was so good as to excuse me. I find my dislike of what are called public diversions greater than ever, except a play; and when Garrick has left the stage, I could be very well contented to relinquish plays also, and to live in London, without ever again setting my foot in a public place.

Hampton, 1776.

I enclose you a little sonnet I sent the Garricks on their birth-day. I had but an hour to write it in, and had the headache, or it would have been better.

SONNET ON MR. AND MRS. GARRICK'S BIRTH-DAY.

ADDRESSED TO THE RIVER THAMES, AND WRITTEN IN THE TEMPLE AT

HAMPTON.

O silver Thames, O gentle river, tell,

Since first thy green waves through yon meadow stray'd,

Hast thou a more harmonious pair survey'd

Than in these fairy-haunted gardens dwell?

I sing not of his muse, for well I ween

My song's unmarked where every bard approves,
Nor of his magic powers, which must be seen,
Not told-for telling lessens what it loves.

Nor do I celebra e her form or face:
Inglorious praise! for other nymphs are fair,
And other nymphs may boast a transient grace;
Though they must boast it when she is not there.

Back to thy source, thou, gentle Thames, shalt flow,
Ere soul more tuned to soul, or mind to mind,
Thy margin ever green shall proudly show,
Or in her bands celestial concord bind.

Mrs. Boscawen has given me a very curious old Italian book,

of which there are very few copies in the world: she is always thinking of some little thing to oblige me.

When I come back from Hampton I shall change my lodgings; not that I have any particular objections to these, but those I have taken are much more airy, large, and elegant : besides the use, when I please, of the whole house, I shall have a bed-chamber and a dressing-room for my own particular company; the master and mistress are themselves well-behaved, sensible people, and keep good company; besides, they are fond of books, and can read, and have a shelf of books which they will lend me. The situation is pleasant and healthy-the centre house in the Adelphi.* Add to this, it is not a common lodging-house, they are careful whom they take in, and will have no people of bad character, or who keep irregular hours so that on the whole, for the little time I remain in town, I think I shall be more comfortable in my new lodgings.

Adelphi, 1776.

Did I tell you we had a very agreeable day at Mrs. Boscawen's? 1 like Mr. Berengert prodigiously. I met the Bunbury family at Sir Joshua's. Mr. Boswell (Corsican Boswell) was here last night; he is a very agreeable good-natured man; he perfectly adores Johnson; they have this day set out together for Oxford, Lichfield, &c., that the doctor may take leave of all his old friends and acquaintances previous to his great expedition across the Alps. I lament his undertaking such a journey at his time of life, with beginning infirmities; I hope he will not leave his bones on classic ground. I have here most spacious apartments, three rooms to myself. David Hume is at the point of death in a jaundice. Cadell told me to-day he had circulated six thousand of Price's book, and was rejoiced to hear that the Dean of Gloucester intended to answer it.

Adelphi, 1776.

We have had a great evening in the Adelphi: the principal people that I can now recollect were Lord and Lady Camden, their daughters, Lady Chatham and daughters, Lord Dudley, Mr. Rigby, Mrs. Montagu, the Dean of Derry and lady, Sir Joshua and his sister, Colman, Berenger, &c. &c.

You would take Lord Camden for an elderly physician, though I think there is something of genius about his nose. Did I excel in the descriptive, here would be a fine field for me to expatiate on the graces of the host and hostess, whose behaviour was all cheerfulness and good-breeding; but lords delight not me, no, nor ladies neither, unless they are very chosen ones.

* Garrick's town-house.

Richard Berenger, Esq. many years gentleman of the horse and equerry to his late majesty. He wrote a history of Horsemanship.

A relation of the Duchess of Chandos died at the duchess's a few days ago, at the card-table; she was dressed most sumptuously-they stripped off her diamonds, stuck her upright in a coach, put in two gentlemen with her, and sent her home two hours after she was dead; at least so the story goes. Baron Burland died as suddenly; after having been at the House of Lords he dined heartily, and was standing by the fire talking politics to a gentleman. So, you see, even London has its warnings, if it would but listen to them. These are two signal ones in one week; but the infatuation of the people is beyond any thing that can be conceived.

A most magnificent hotel in St. James's-street was opened last night for the first time, by the name of the “ Savoir Vivre;" none but people of the very first rank were there, so you may conclude the diversion was cards; and in one night, the very first time the rooms were ever used, the enormous sum of sixty thousand pounds was lost. Heaven reform us!

We had the other night a conversazione at Mrs. Boscawen's. What a comfort for me that none of my friends play at cards. Soame Jenyns and the learned and ingenious Mr. Cambridge were of the party. We had a few sensible ladies, and a very agreeable day, till the world broke in upon us, and made us too large for conversation. The sensible Mrs. Walsingham was there, as was Mrs. Newton, who gave me many invitations to St. Paul's.* Mr. Jenyns was very polite to me, and as he, his lady, and I were the first visitants, he introduced me himself to everybody that came afterward, who were strangers to me. There is a fine simplicity about him, and a meek, innocent kind of wit, in Addison's manner, which is very pleasant. The kind Mrs. Boscawen had made another party for me at her house, with Mr. Berenger, who is everybody's favourite (even Dr. Johnson's), but I am unluckily engaged.

Cumberland's odes are come out. I tried to prevail on Mr. Cambridge to read them, but could not; he has a natural aversion to an ode, as some people have to a cat; one of them is pretty, but another contains a literal description of administering a dose of James's powders. Why will a man who has real talents attempt a species of writing for which he is so little qualified? But so little do we poor mortals know ourselves, that I should not be surprised if he were to prefer these odes to his comedies, which have real merit.

London, 1776.

I dined yesterday with Captain† and Mrs. Middleton. Tell Dr. Stonehouse that I recommended the translation of Saurin's Sermons to Captain Middleton and Mrs. Bouverie; and Captain

The kindness and friendship of Bishop Newton and his lady to Mrs. H. More continued invariably through life.

† Afterward Lord Barham.