e little art of conversation.)

"You must tell me your candid, your unbiased, your deliberate opinion
of chevreuil. For my part, I should not wonder at the mythology of
the northern heathen nations, which places hunting among the chief
enjoyments of their heaven, were chevreuil the object of their chace;
but nihil est omni parte beatum, it wants fat, my dear Pelham, it wants
fat: nor do I see how to remedy this defect; for were we by art to
supply the fat, we should deprive ourselves of the flavour bestowed
by nature; and this, my dear Pelham, was always my great argument for
liberty. Cooped, chained, and confined in cities, and slavery, all
things lose the fresh and generous tastes, which it is the peculiar
blessing of freedom and the country to afford.

"Tell me, my friend, what has been the late subject of your reflections?
My thoughts have dwelt much, and seriously, on the 'terra incognita,'
the undiscovered tracts in the pays culinaire, which the profoundest
investigators have left untouched and unexplored in veal. But more of
this hereafter;--the lightness of a letter, is ill suited to the depths
of philosophical research.

"Lord Dawton sounded me upon my votes yesterday. 'A thousand pities
too,' said he, 'that you never speak in the House of Lords.' 'Orator
fit,' said I--orators are subject to apoplexy.

"Adieu, my dear friend, for friend you are, if the philosopher was right
in defining true friendship to consist in liking and disliking the same
things. [Seneca.] You hate parsnips au naturel--so do I; you love pates
du foie gras, et moi aussi--nous voila les meilleurs amis du monde.

"Guloseton."

So much for my friend, thought I--and now for my mother, opening the
maternal epistle, which I herewith transcribe:

"My dear Henry,

"Lose no time in coming to town. Every day the ministers are filling up
the minor places, and it requires a great stretch of recollection in a
politician, to remember the absent. Mr. V--, said yesterday, at a
dinner party, where I was present, that Lord Dawton had promised him the
Borough of--. Now you know, my dear Henry, that was the very borough he
promised to you: you must see further into this; Lord Dawton, is a good
sort of man enough, but refused once to fight a duel; therefore, if he
has disregarded his honour in one instance, he may do so in another: at
all events, you have no time to lose.

"The young Duke of--gives a ball tomorrow evening: Mrs.--pays all the
expense