f whole nations and ages
collected into a small compass, I am not to be shamed out of sentences
that often contain more wisdom in them than the tedious harangues of most
of our parsons and moralists. Let him laugh at them, if he pleases: you
and I know better things, Mr. Belford--Though you have kept company with
a wolf, you have not learnt to howl of him.

But nevertheless, you must let him know that I have written to you on
this subject. I am ashamed to say it; but he has ever treated me as if I
were a man of very common understanding; and would, perhaps, think never
the better of the best advice in the world for coming from me. Those,
Mr. Belford, who most love, are least set by.--But who would expect
velvet to be made out of a sow's ear?

I am sure he has no reason however to slight me as he does. He may and
will be the better for me, if he outlives me; though he once told me to
my face, that I might do as I would with my estate; for that he, for his
part, loved his liberty as much as he despised money. And at another
time, twitting me with my phrases, that the man was above controul, who
wanted not either to borrow or flatter. He thought, I suppose, that I
could not cover him with my wings, without pecking at him with my bill;
though I never used to be pecking at him, without very great occasion:
and, God knows, he might have my very heart, if he would but endeavour
to oblige me, by studying his own good; for that is all I desire of him.
Indeed, it was his poor mother that first spoiled him; and I have been
but too indulgent to him since. A fine grateful disposition, you'll say,
to return evil for good! but that was always his way. It is a good
saying, and which was verified by him with a witness--Children when
little, make their parents fools; when great, mad. Had his parents lived
to see what I have seen of him, they would have been mad indeed.

This match, however, as the lady has such an extraordinary share of
wisdom and goodness, might set all to rights; and if you can forward it,
I would enable him to make whatever settlements he could wish; and should
not be unwilling to put him in possession of another pretty estate
besides. I am no covetous man, he knows. And, indeed, what is a
covetous man to be likened to so fitly, as to a dog in a wheel which
roasts meat for others? And what do I live for, (as I have often said,)
but to see him and my two nieces well married and settled. May Heaven
settle