Tales and Novels Volume VII Part 33

The chief justice was so well pleased with the conversation of our young barrister, that, at parting, he gave Alfred an invitation to his house.

The conversation had been very different from what might have been expected: metaphysics, belles-lettres, poetry, plays, criticism--what a range of ideas, far from c.o.ke and Selden, was gone over this evening in the course of a few hours! Alfred had reason to be more and more convinced of the truth of his father's favourite doctrine, that the general cultivation of the understanding, and the acquirement of general knowledge, are essential to the attainment of excellence in any profession, useful to a young man particularly in introducing him to the notice of valuable friends and acquaintance.

An author well skilled in the worst parts of human nature has a.s.serted, that "nothing is more tiresome than praises in which we have no manner of share." Yet we, who have a better opinion of our kind, trust that there are some who can sympathize in the enthusiasm of a good and young mind, struck with splendid talents, and with a superior character; therefore we venture to insert some of the warm eulogiums, with which we find our young lawyer's letters filled.

"My DEAR FATHER,

"I have only a few moments to write, but cannot delay to answer your question about the chief justice. _Disappointed_--no danger of that--he far surpa.s.ses my expectations. It has been said that he never opened a book, that he never heard a common ballad, or saw a workman at his trade, without learning something, which he afterwards turned to good account. This you may see in his public speeches, but I am more completely convinced of it since I have heard him converse. His ill.u.s.trations are drawn from the workshop, the manufactory, the mine, the mechanic, the poet--from every art and science, from every thing in nature, animate or inanimate.

'From gems, from flames, from orient rays of light, The richest l.u.s.tre makes his purple bright.'

"Perhaps I am writing his panegyric because he is my lord chief justice, and because I dined with him yesterday, and am to dine with him again to-morrow.

"Yours affectionately,

"ALFRED PERCY."

In a subsequent letter he shows that his admiration increased instead of diminis.h.i.+ng, upon a more intimate acquaintance with its object.

"High station," says Alfred, "appears to me much more desirable, since I have known this great man. He makes rank so gracious, and shows that it is a pleasurable, not a 'painful pre-eminence,' when it gives the power of raising others, and of continually doing kind and generous actions.

Mr. Friend tells me, that, before the chief justice was so high as he is now, without a rival in his profession, he was ever the most generous man to his compet.i.tors. I am sure he is now the most kind and condescending to his inferiors. In company he is never intent upon himself, seems never anxious about his own dignity or his own fame.

He is sufficiently sure of both to be quite at ease. He excites my ambition, and exalts its nature and value.

"He has raised my esteem for my profession, by showing the n.o.ble use that can be made of it, in defending right and virtue. He has done my mind good in another way: he has shown me that professional labour is not incompatible with domestic pleasures. I wish you could see him as I do, in the midst of his family, with his fine children playing about him, with his wife, a charming cultivated woman, who adores him, and who is his best companion and friend. Before I knew the chief justice, I had seen other great lawyers and judges, some of them crabbed old bachelors, others uneasily yoked to vulgar helpmates--having married early in life women whom they had dragged up as they rose, but who were always pulling them down--had seen some of these learned men sink into mere epicures, and become dead to intellectual enjoyment--others, with higher minds, and originally fine talents, I had seen in premature old age, with understandings contracted and palsied by partial or overstrained exertion, worn out, mind and body, and only late, very late in life, just attaining wealth and honours, when they were incapable of enjoying them. This had struck me as a deplorable and discouraging spectacle--a sad termination of a life of labour. But now I see a man in the prime of life, in the full vigour of all his intellectual faculties and moral sensibility, with a high character, fortune, and professional honours, all obtained by his own merit and exertions, with the prospect of health and length of days to enjoy and communicate happiness. Exulting in the sight of this resplendent luminary, and conscious that it will guide and cheer me forwards, I 'bless the useful light.'"

Our young lawyer was so honestly enthusiastic in his admiration of this great man, and was so full of the impression that had been made on his mind, that he forgot in this letter to advert to the advantage which, in a professional point of view, he might derive from the good opinion formed of him by the chief justice. In consequence of Solicitor Babington's telling his clients the share which Alfred had in winning Colonel Hauton's cause, he was employed in a suit of considerable importance, in which a great landed property was at stake. It was one of those standing suits which last from year to year, and which seem likely to linger on from generation to generation. Instead of considering his brief in this cause merely as a means of obtaining a fee, instead of contenting himself to make some _motion of course_, which fell to his share, Alfred set himself seriously to study the case, and searched indefatigably for all the precedents that could bear upon it. He was fortunate enough, or rather he was persevering enough, to find an old case in point, which had escaped the attention of the other lawyers. Mr.

Friend was one of the senior counsel in this cause, and he took generous care that Alfred's merit should not now, as upon a former occasion, he concealed. Mr. Friend prevailed upon his brother barristers to agree in calling upon Alfred to speak to his own _case in point_; and the chief justice, who presided, said, "This case is new to me. This had escaped me, Mr. Percy; I must take another day to reconsider the matter, before I can p.r.o.nounce judgment."

This from the chief justice, with the sense which Alfred's brother barristers felt of his deserving such notice, was of immediate and material advantage to our young lawyer. Attorneys and solicitors turned their eyes upon him, briefs began to flow in, and his diligence increased with his business. As junior counsel, he still had little opportunity in the common course of things of distinguis.h.i.+ng himself, as it frequently fell to his share only to say a few words; but he never failed to make himself master of every case in which he was employed.

And it happened one day, when the senior counsel was ill, the judge called upon the next barrister.--"Mr. Trevors, are you prepared?"

"My lord--I can't say--no, my lord."

"Mr. Percy, are you prepared?"

"Yes, my lord."

"So I thought--always prepared: go on, sir--go on, Mr. Percy."

He went on, and spoke so ably, and with such comprehensive knowledge of the case and of the law, that he obtained a decision in favour of his client, and established his own reputation as a man of business and of talents, who was _always prepared_. For the manner in which he was brought forward and distinguished by the chief justice he was truly grateful. This was a species of patronage honourable both to the giver and the receiver. Here was no favour shown disproportionate to deserts, but here was just distinction paid to merit, and generous discernment giving talents opportunity of developing themselves. These opportunities would only have been the ruin of a man who could not show himself equal to the occasion; but this was not the case with Alfred. His capacity, like the fairy tent, seemed to enlarge so as to contain all that it was necessary to comprehend: and new powers appeared in him in new situations.

Alfred had been introduced by his brother Erasmus to some of those men of literature with whom he had become acquainted at Lady Spilsbury's good dinners. Among these was a Mr. Dunbar, a gentleman who had resided for many years in India, from whom Alfred, who constantly sought for information from all with whom he conversed, had learned much of Indian affairs. Mr. Dunbar had collected some curious tracts on Mohammedan law, and glad to find an intelligent auditor on his favourite subject, a subject not generally interesting, he willingly communicated all he knew to Alfred, and lent him his ma.n.u.scripts and scarce tracts, which Alfred, in the many leisure hours that a young lawyer can command before he gets into practice, had studied, and of which he had made himself master. It happened a considerable time afterwards that the East India Company had a cause--one of the greatest causes ever brought before our courts of law--relative to the demand of some native bankers in Hindostan against the company for upwards of four millions of rupees. This Mr. Dunbar, who had a considerable interest in the cause, and who was intimate with several of the directors, recommended it to them to employ Mr. Alfred Percy, who, as he knew, had had ample means of information, and who had studied a subject of which few of his brother barristers had any knowledge. The very circ.u.mstance of his being employed in a cause of such importance was of great advantage to him; and the credit he gained by accurate and uncommon knowledge in the course of the suit at once raised his reputation among the best judges, and _established_ him in the courts.

On another occasion, Alfred's moral character was as serviceable as his literary taste had been in recommending him to his clients. Buckhurst Falconer had introduced him to a certain Mr. Clay, known by the name of _French_ Clay. In a conversation after dinner, when the ladies had retired, Mr. Clay had boasted of his successes with the fair s.e.x, and had expressed many sentiments that marked him for a profligate c.o.xcomb.

Alfred felt disgust and indignation for this parade of vice. There was one officer in company who strongly sympathized in his feelings; this led to farther acquaintance and mutual esteem. This officer soon afterwards married Lady Harriet ----, a beautiful young woman, with whom he lived happily for some time, till, unfortunately, while her husband was abroad with his regiment, chance brought the wife, at a watering-place, into the company of French Clay, and imprudence, the love of flattery, coquetry, and self-confidence, made her a victim to his vanity. Love he had none--nor she either--but her disgrace was soon discovered, or revealed; and her unhappy and almost distracted husband immediately commenced a suit against Clay. He chose Alfred Percy for his counsel. In this cause, where strong feelings of indignation were justly roused, and where there was room for oratory, Alfred spoke with such force and pathos that every honest heart was touched. The verdict of the jury showed the impression which he had made upon them: his speech was universally admired; and those who had till now known him only as a man of business, and a sound lawyer, were surprised to find him suddenly display such powers of eloquence. Counsellor Friend's plain advice to him had always been, "Never harangue about nothing: if your client require it, he is a fool, and never mind him; never speak till you've something to say, and then only say what you have to say.

'Words are like leaves, and where they most abound, Much fruit of solid sense is seldom found.'"

Friend now congratulated Alfred with all his honest affectionate heart, and said, with a frown that struggled hard with a smile, "Well, I believe I must allow you to be an orator. But, take care--don't let the lawyer merge in the advocate. Bear it always in mind, that a mere man of words at the bar--or indeed any where else--is a mere man of straw."

The chief justice, who knew how to say the kindest things in the most polite manner, was heard to observe, that "Mr. Percy had done wisely, to begin by showing that he had laid a solid foundation of law, on which the ornaments of oratory could be raised high, and supported securely."

French Clay's _affair_ with Lady Harriot had been much talked of in the fas.h.i.+onable world; from a love of scandal or a love of justice, from zeal in the cause of morality or from natural curiosity, her trial had been a matter of general interest to the ladies, young and old. In consequence Mr. Alfred Percy's speech was _prodigiously_ read, and, from various motives, highly applauded. When a man begins to rise, all hands--all hands but the hands of his rivals--are ready to push him up, and all tongues exclaim, "'Twas I helped!" or, "'Twas what I always foretold!"

The Lady Angelica Headingham now bethought herself that she had a little poem, written by Mr. Alfred Percy, which had been given to her long ago by Miss Percy, and of which, at the time she received it, her ladys.h.i.+p had thought so little, that hardly deigning to bestow the customary tribute of a compliment, she had thrown it, scarcely perused, into her writing-box. It was now worth while to rummage for it, and now, when the author had a _name_, her ladys.h.i.+p discovered that the poem was charming--absolutely charming! Such an early indication of talents! Such a happy promise of genius!--Oh! she had always foreseen that Mr. Alfred Percy would make an uncommon figure in the world!

"Bless me! does your ladys.h.i.+p know him?"

"Oh! intimately!--That is, I never saw _him_ exactly--but all his family I've known intimately--ages ago in the country."

"I should so like to meet him! And do pray give me a copy of the verses--and me!--and me!"

To work went the pens of all the female amateurs, in scribbling copies of "_The Lawyer's May-day_."--And away went the fair patroness in search of the author--introduced herself with unabashed grace, invited him for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday--Engaged? how unfortunate!--Well, for next week? a fortnight hence? three weeks? positively she must have him at her conversazione--she must give him--No, he must give her a day, he must consent to lose a day--so many of her friends and real judges were dying to see him.

To save the lives of so many judges, he consented to lose an evening--the day was fixed--Alfred found her conversazione very brilliant--was admired--and admired others in his turn as much as was expected. It was an agreeable variety of company and of thought to him, and he promised to go sometimes to her ladys.h.i.+p's parties--a promise which delighted her much, particularly as he had not yet given a copy of the verses to Lady Spilsbury. Lady Spilsbury, to whom the verses quickly worked round, was quite angry that her friend Erasmus had not given her an early copy; and now invitations the most pressing came from Lady Spilsbury to her excellent literary dinners. If Alfred had been so disposed, he might, among these fetchers and carriers of bays, have been extolled to the skies; but he had too much sense and prudence to lose the substance for the shadow, to sink a solid character into a _drawing-room reputation_. Of this he had seen the folly in Buckhurst Falconer's case, and now, if any farther warning on this subject had been wanting, he would have taken it from the example of _poor_ Seebright, the poet, whom he met the second time he went to Lady Angelica Headingham's. _Poor Seebright_, as the world already began to call him, from being an object of admiration, was beginning to sink into an object of pity. Instead of making himself independent by steady exertions in any respectable profession, instead of making his way in the republic of letters by some solid work of merit, he frittered away his time among fas.h.i.+onable amateurs, feeding upon their flattery, and living on in the vain hope of patronage. Already the flight of his genius had been restrained, the force of his wing impaired; instead of soaring superior, he kept hovering near the earth; his "kestrel courage fell," he appeared to be almost tamed to the domestic state to which he was reduced--yet now and then a rebel sense of his former freedom, and of his present degradation, would appear. "Ah! if I were but independent as you are! If I had but followed a profession as you have done!" said he to Alfred, when, apart from the crowd, they had an opportunity of conversing confidentially.

Alfred replied that it was not yet too late, that it was never too late for a man of spirit and talents to make himself independent; he then suggested to Mr. Seebright various ways of employing his powers, and pointed out some useful and creditable literary undertakings, by which he might acquire reputation. Seebright listened, his eye eagerly catching at each new idea the first moment, the next turning off to something else, raising objections futile or fastidious, seeing nothing impossible in any dream of his imagination, where no effort of exertion was requisite, but finding every thing impracticable when he came to sober reality, where he was called upon to labour. In fact, he was one of the sort of people who do not know what they want, or what they would be, who complain and complain; disappointed and discontented, at having sunk below their powers and their hopes, and are yet without capability of persevering exertion to emerge from their obscurity. Seebright was now become an inefficient being, whom no one could a.s.sist to any good purpose. Alfred, after a long, mazy, fruitless conversation, was convinced that the case was hopeless, and, sincerely pitying him, gave it up as irremediable. Just as he had come to this conclusion, and had sunk into silence, a relation of his, whom he had not seen for a considerable time, entered the room, and pa.s.sed by without noticing him. She was so much altered in her appearance, that he could scarcely believe he saw Lady Jane Granville; she looked out of spirits, and care-worn. He immediately observed that less attention was paid to her than she used to command; she had obviously sunk considerably in importance, and appeared to feel this keenly. Upon inquiry, Alfred learnt that she had lost a large portion of her fortune by a lawsuit, which she had managed, that is to say, mismanaged, for herself; and she was still at law for the remainder of her estate, which, notwithstanding her right was undoubted, it was generally supposed that she would lose, for the same reason that occasioned her former failure, her pertinacity in following her own advice only. Alfred knew that there had been some misunderstanding between Lady Jane and his family, that she had been offended by his sister Caroline having declined accepting her invitation to town, and from Mr. and Mrs. Percy having differed with her in opinion as to the value of the _patronage_ of fas.h.i.+on: she had also been displeased with Erasmus about Sir Amyas Courtney. Notwithstanding all this, he was convinced that Lady Jane, whatever her opinions might be, and whether mistaken or not, had been actuated by sincere regard for his family, for which he and they were grateful; and now was the time to show it, now when he was coming into notice in the world, and she declining in importance. Therefore, though she had pa.s.sed by him without recognizing him, he went immediately and spoke to her in so respectful and kind a manner, paid her the whole evening such marked attention, that she was quite pleased and touched. In reality, she had been vexed with herself for having persisted so long in her resentment; she wished for a fair opportunity for a reconciliation, and she rejoiced that Alfred thus opened the way for it. She invited him to come to see her the next day, observing, as she put her card into his hand, that she no longer lived in her fine house in St. James's place. Now that his motives could not be mistaken, he was a.s.siduous in his visits; and when he had sufficiently obtained her confidence, he ventured to touch upon her affairs. She, proud to convince him of her abilities as a woman of business, explained her whole case, and descanted upon the blunders and folly of her solicitors and counsellors, especially upon the absurdity of the opinions which she had not followed. Her cause depended upon the _replication_ she was to put in to a plea in special pleading: she thought she saw the way straight before her, and exclaimed vehemently against that love of the crooked path by which her lawyers seemed possessed.

Without disputing the legal soundness of her ladys.h.i.+p's opinion in her own peculiar case, Alfred, beginning at a great distance from her pa.s.sions, quietly undertook, by relating to her cases which had fallen under his own knowledge, to convince her that plain common sense and reason could never lead her to the knowledge of the rules of special pleading, or to the proper wording of those answers, on the _letter_ of which the fate of a cause frequently depends. He confessed to her that his own understanding had been so shocked at first by the apparent absurdity of the system, that he had almost abandoned the study, and that it had been only in consequence of actual experience that he had at last discovered the utility of those rules. She insisted upon being also convinced before she could submit; but as it is not quite so easy as ladies sometimes think it is to teach any art or science in two words, or to convey, in a moment, to the ignorant, the combined result of study and experience, Alfred declined this task, and could undertake only to show her ladys.h.i.+p, by asking her opinion on various cases which had been decided in the courts, that it was possible she might be mistaken; and that, however superior her understanding, a court of law would infallibly decide according to its own rules.

"But, good Heavens! my dear sir," exclaimed Lady Jane, "when, after I have paid the amount of my bond, and every farthing that I owe a creditor, yet this rogue says I have not, is not it a proper answer that I owe him nothing?"

"Pardon me, this would be considered as an evasive plea by the court, or as a _negative pregnant_."

"Oh! if you come to your _negative pregnants_," cried Lady Jane, "it is impossible to understand you--I give up the point."

To this conclusion it had been Alfred's object to bring her ladys.h.i.+p; and when she was fully convinced of the insufficient limits of the human--he never said the female--understanding to comprehend these things without the aid of men learned in the law, he humbly offered his a.s.sistance to guide her out of that labyrinth, into which, unwittingly and without any clue, she had ventured farther and farther, till she was just in the very jaws of nonsuit and ruin. She put her affairs completely into his hands, and promised that she would no farther interfere, even with her advice; for it was upon this condition that Alfred engaged to undertake the management of her cause. Nothing indeed is more tormenting to men of business, than to be pestered with the incessant advice, hopes and fears, cautions and explanations, cunning suggestions, superficial knowledge, and profound ignorance, of lady or gentlemen lawyers. Alfred now begged and obtained permission from the court to amend the Lady Jane Granville's last plea--he thenceforward conducted the business, and played the game of special pleading with such strict and acute attention to the rules, that there were good hopes the remaining portion of her ladys.h.i.+p's fortune, which was now at stake, might be saved. He endeavoured to keep up her spirits and her patience, for of a speedy termination to the business there was no chance. They had to deal with adversaries who knew how, on their side, to protract the pleadings, and to avoid what is called _coming to the point_.

It was a great pleasure to Alfred thus to have it in his power to a.s.sist his friends, and the hope of serving them redoubled his diligence.

About this time he was engaged in a cause for his brother's friend and Rosamond's admirer, Mr. Gresham. A picture-dealer had cheated this gentleman, in the sale of a picture of considerable value. Mr. Gresham had bargained for, and bought, an original Guido, wrote his name on the back of it, and directed that it should be sent to him. The painting which was taken to his house had his name written on the back, but was not the original Guido for which he had bargained--it was a copy. The picture-dealer, however, and two respectable witnesses, were ready to swear positively that this was the identical picture on which Mr.

Gresham wrote his name--that they saw him write his name, and heard him order that it should be sent to him. Mr. Gresham himself acknowledged that the writing was so like his own that he could not venture to deny that it was his, and yet he could swear that this was not the picture for which he had bargained, and on which he had written his name. He suspected it to be a forgery; and was certain that, by some means, one picture had been subst.i.tuted for another. Yet the defendant had witnesses to prove that the picture never was out of Mr. Gresham's sight, from the time he bargained for it, till the moment when he wrote his name on the back, in the presence of the same witnesses.

This chain of evidence they thought was complete, and that it could not be broken. Alfred Percy, however, discovered the nature of the fraud, and, regardless of the boasts and taunts of the opposite party, kept his mind carefully secret, till the moment when he came to cross-examine the witnesses; for, as Mr. Friend had observed to him, many a cause had been lost by the impatience of counsel, in showing, beforehand, how it might certainly be won [Footnote: See Deinology.]. By thus revealing the intended mode of attack, opportunity is given to prepare a defence by which it may be ultimately counteracted. In the present case, the defendant, however, came into court secure of victory, and utterly unprepared to meet the truth, which was brought out full upon him when least expected. The fact was, that he had put two pictures into the same frame--the original in front, the copy behind it: on the back of the canva.s.s of the copy Mr. Gresham had written his name, never suspecting that it was not the original for which he bargained, and which he thought he actually held in his hand. The witnesses, therefore, swore literally the truth, that they saw him write upon _that_ picture; and they believed the picture, on which he wrote, was the identical picture that was sent home to him. One of the witnesses was an honest man, who really believed what he swore, and knew nothing of the fraud, to which the other, a rogue in confederacy with the picture-dealer, was privy.

The cross-examination of both was so ably managed, that the honest man was soon made to perceive and the rogue forced to reveal the truth.

Alfred had reason to be proud of the credit he obtained for the ability displayed in this cross-examination, but he was infinitely more gratified by having it in his power to gain a cause for his friend, and to restore to Mr. Gresham his favourite Guido.

A welcome sight--a letter from G.o.dfrey! the first his family had received from him since he left England. Two of his letters, it appears, had been lost. Alluding to one he had written immediately on hearing of the change in his father's fortune, he observes, that he has kept his resolution of living within his pay; and, after entering into some other family details, he continues as follows: "Now, my dear mother, prepare to hear me recant what I have said against Lord Oldborough. I forgive his lords.h.i.+p all his sins, and I begin to believe, that though he is a statesman, his heart is not yet quite _ossified_. He has recalled our regiment from this unhealthy place, and he has promoted Gascoigne to be our lieutenant-colonel. I say that Lord Oldborough has done all this, because I am sure, from a hint in Alfred's last letter, that his lords.h.i.+p has been the prime mover in the business. But not to keep you in suspense about the facts.

"In my first letter to my father, I told you, that from the moment our late lethargic lieutenant-colonel came to the island, he took to drinking rum, pure rum, to waken himself--claret, port, and madeira, had lost their power over him. Then came brandy, which he fancied was an excellent preservative against the yellow fever, and the fever of the country. So he died 'boldly by brandy.' Poor fellow! he was boasting to me, the last week of his existence, when he was literally on his deathbed, that his father taught him to drink before he was six years old, by practising him every day, after dinner, in the sublime art of carrying a b.u.mper steadily to his lips. He, moreover, boasted to me, that when a boy of thirteen, at an academy, he often drank two bottles of claret at a sitting; and that, when he went into the army, getting among a jolly set, he brought himself never to feel the worse for any quant.i.ty of wine. I don't know what he meant by the worse for it--at forty-five, when I first saw him, he had neither head nor hand left for himself or his country. His hand shook so, that if he had been peris.h.i.+ng with thirst, he could not have carried a gla.s.s to his lips, till after various attempts in all manner of curves and zigzags, spilling half of it by the way. It was really pitiable to see him--when he was to sign his name I always went out of the room, and left Gascoigne to guide his hand. More helpless still his mind than his body. If his own or England's salvation had depended upon it, he could not, when in the least hurried, have uttered a distinct order, have dictated an intelligible letter; or, in time of need, have recollected the name of any one of his officers, or even his own name--quite imbecile and embruted. But, peace to his ashes--or rather to his dregs--and may there never be such another British colonel!

"Early habits of temperance have not only saved my life, but made my life worth saving. Neither Colonel Gascoigne nor I have ever had a day's serious illness since we came to the island--but we are the only two that have escaped. Partly from the colonel's example, and partly from their own inclination, all the other officers have drunk hard.

Lieutenant R---- is now ill of the fever; Captain H---- (I beg his pardon), now Major H----, will soon follow the colonel to the grave, unless he takes my very disinterested advice, and drinks less. I am laughed at by D---- and V----and others for this; they ask why the deuce I can't let the major kill himself his own way, and as fast as he pleases, when I should get on a step by it, and that step such a great one. They say none but a fool would do as I do, and I think none but a brute could do otherwise--I can't stand by with any satisfaction, and see a fellow- creature killing himself by inches, even though I have the chance of slipping into his shoes: I am sure the shoes would pinch me confoundedly. If it is my brother-officer's lot to fall in battle--it's very well--I run the same hazard--he dies, as he ought to do, a brave fellow; but to stand by, and see a man die as he ought not to do, and die what is called an _honest fellow_!--I can't do it. H---- at first had a great mind to run me through the body; but, poor man, he is now very fond of me, and if any one can keep him from destroying himself, I flatter myself I shall.

"A thousand thanks to dear Caroline for her letter, and to Rosamond for her journal. They, who have never been an inch from home, cannot conceive how delightful it is, at such a distance, to receive letters from our friends. You remember, in Cook's voyage, his joy at meeting in some distant island with the spoon marked _London_.

"I hope you received my letters, Nos. I and 2. Not that there was any thing particular in them. You know I never do more than tell the bare facts--not like Rosamond's journal--with which, by-the-bye, Gascoigne has fallen in love. He sighs, and wishes that Heaven had blessed him with such a sister--for _sister_, read wife. I hope this will encourage Rosamond to write again immediately. No; do not tell what I have just said about Gascoigne, for--who knows the perverse ways of women?--perhaps it might prevent her from writing to me at all. You may tell her, in general, that it is my opinion ladies always write better and do every thing better than men--except fight, which Heaven forbid they should ever do in public or private!