he charm, such as it is, is evenly diffused, not
gathered, into centres of brilliancy like Madame de Sevigne's letter on
the Orleans Marriage. Here is a letter written, in the highest spirits
to Lady Hesketh.

"Olney, _Feb. 9th_, 1786.

"MY DEAREST COUSIN,--I have been impatient to tell you that I am
impatient to see you again. Mrs. Unwin partakes with me in all my
feelings upon this subject, and longs also to see you. I should have
told you so by the last post, but have been so completely occupied by
this tormenting specimen, that it was impossible to do it. I sent the
General a letter on Monday, that would distress and alarm him; I sent
him another yesterday, that will, I hope, quiet him again. Johnson has
apologized very civilly for the multitude of his friend's strictures;
and his friend has promised to confine himself in future to a
comparison of me with the original, so that, I doubt not, we shall jog
on merrily together. And now, my dear, let me tell you once more, that
your kindness in promising us a visit has charmed us both. I shall see
you again. I shall hear your voice. We shall take walks together. I
will show you my prospects, the hovel, the alcove, the Ouse and its
banks, everything that I have described. I anticipate the pleasure of
those days not very far distant, and feel a part of it at this moment.
Talk not of an inn! Mention it not for your life! We have never had
so many visitors, but we could easily accommodate them all; though we
have received Unwin, and his wife, and his sister, and his son all at
once. My dear, I will not let you come till the end of May, or
beginning of June, because before that time my greenhouse will not be
ready to receive us, and it is the only pleasant room belonging to us.
When the plants go out, we go in. I line it with mats, and spread the
floor with mats; and there you shall sit with a bed of mignonette at
your side, and a hedge of honeysuckles, roses, and jasmine; and I will
make you a bouquet of myrtle every day. Sooner than the time I mention
the country will not be in complete beauty.

"And I will tell you what you shall find at your first entrance.
Imprimis, as soon as you have entered the vestibule, if you cast a look
on either side of you, you shall see on the right hand a box of my
making. It is the box in which have been lodged all my hares, and in
which lodges Puss at present; but he, poor fellow, is worn out with
age, and promises to