in talking to you; as every thing I see puts me in mind of you.-What would Mr. Richardson think of this?-Here is room for his praise;—and here for his censure : this would raise his compassion; this his indignation: this would touch his benevolent heart with joy; and here he would exercise his charity: this man's solid sense would delight him; the ladies would, in general, charm him; and the honest prejudices of many, in favour of their native country, would make him smile. These, and many other such like thoughts, often occur to me, so that I am oftener in your company than you imagine. The civilities I daily meet with, and the hospitality with which I am entertained, are not to be expressed. I have nothing to do but go from feast to feast, the manners of the better part of this country bearing a very near resemblance to those of North-End. I am overwhelmed with their kindness; so that I must really make my stay here as short as possible, lest living thus riotously should prejudice my health. But no more of this till I see you-a pleasure I truly long for.

At intervals, as I am now almost become a stranger to this country, and am possibly now taking my leave of it, I visit what is ancient or curious. Yesterday I paid my compliments to the remains of king James the Fifth, and shook lord Darnley by the hand; he was queen Mary's husband, you well know, and was seven foot eight inches in stature: a portly personage once, and now-what we must all be. O what a pleasing melancholy filled me on beholding their venerable remains! To see the very bodies of two such great

men, who existed two centuries ago, is a curiosity indeed. They are in the chapel of Holyrood House, a very noble structure, but almost entirely demolished at the Revolution, and since utterly neglected. Here monuments of men, like men, decay! But, however, the outside is firm, so that it may easily be repaired, when the government thinks proper.

What else I have seen, with my observations on every thing that occurs, will afford me matter of conversation with you, when my tongue, perhaps, would be more impertinently employed. I shall therefore say no more now. Suffer me only to take every occasion of making my sincere acknowledgments for your continued and uninterrupted kindness and friendship to me. When I think of particular instances of your goodness to me, all I can say to you upon that subject comes so very short of what I feel, that I do myself great injustice in endeavouring to say any thing at all. I am, &c.

LETTER XXXVIII.

MR. STRAHAN TO MR. RICHARDSON.

Sept. 2, 1749.

DEAR SIR, COULD you communicate to me a very small portion of your lively and creating faucy, my letters would be much more worthy of your perusal. The Israelites, who were obliged to make bricks without straw, were, in my opinion, in a much more tolerable situation than the man who is obliged to

write without genius; because, though they had indeed no allowance of straw delivered out to them, they had the whole land of Egypt to glean it in; and as that, like Clarissa, was notoriously a most fruitful country, in which there were doubtless many delicious spots, they unquestionably found very pretty pickings in it.

Since my last, I have been at Glasgow, a town greatly altered for the better, in point of trade, since I was there last. Several large manufactories are set on foot, in which the poor of all ages, and both sexes, are usefully employed. From thence I went to Paisley, where Mr. Millar's father is minister, a venerable old man, who, like the church he preaches in, is nodding to his dissolution, but beautiful even in ruins. The town is almost entirely composed of manufacturers, and is in so exceeding thriving a way, that it is, they tell me, considerably increased even since last year when Mr. Millar was there. I returned thence to Stirling, and visited the castle, and went over the noble monuments of the amazing grandeur of our kings before the union of the crowns that are crumbling into dust. Here is a fine palace built by king James the Fifth, and a parliament-house, infinitely superior to that of Westminster. Here is a chapel also, purposely erected for the christening of prince Henry, king Charles the First's eldest brother. Had he been preserved, who knows how things might now have been altered from what they are? All these are hastening to decay, as no care is taken of any thing here except the fortifications. I had forgot to tell you, that the great church at Glasgow, and that noble structure at

Paisley, are about 600 years old, and are most authentic proofs of the power of the church, or rather churchmen, in those days, who were able, in times of poverty and rudeness, to erect a variety of piles, any one of which would sensibly distress the whole kingdom, now, in its improved and flourishing state, to finish. On my return to Edinburgh, I passed by the ruins of the abbacy of Culross, part of which is now turned into a stable. The remains of gentlemen's houses, of long standing, occur every where; in which the builders have visibly studied strength and security, preferably to pleasure and conveniency. During this excursion, I was continually comparing past times with the present; the ancient glory of a prince, and a few noble families, supported at the expeuse of the lives of some, and the liberties of all the rest of the people (who, the clergy excepted, laboured under the last degree of poverty, slavery, and ignorance), with the present economy of things; when our merchants are princes, and tradesmen enjoy the good things of the earth; when property may be acquired and safely enjoyed by the meanest labourer; and when superstition and ignorance can hardly find shelter in our meanest cottages. And yet, comfortable as this comparison is, the ruin of these ancient badges of our slavery, by reason of their splendour and magnificence, impresses me with a very deep concern.

I have insensibly spun out a long letter, without saying hardly any thing; and, lest I tire you too much at once, I shall only add, at present, the assurances of my most perfect gratitude and esteem, being always, dear sir, yours, &c.

LETTER XXXIX.

DR. YOUNG TO MR. RICHARDSON

DEAR SIR, Wellwyn, Feb. 18, 1745. I HAVE been under some pain ever since I received the favour of your last, or so kind a letter should not have been so long without a reply. But pain I have been acquainted with before, and have endeavoured not to be dejected under it. An even mind, undejected by ill, unelated by good, is an advice the wise heathens inculcated as much, if not more than any other. Nor has Scripture shown it less regard. No single piece of wisdom seems to me so strongly guarded there as this equanimity. Two noble barriers are erected against our deviation on either hand: one in the history of Solomon, who, to suppress elevation, assures us, that the best is vain; one in the history of Job, who tells us, the worst is supportable; which truth is the present. I return to the good woman, who favoured me with an ornament to my watch. There is a time when we should not only number our days, but our hours. Her present may stand my friend in this view: a measure of time is naturally an instrument of wisdom; but more so is the good example of a valuable and valued friend.

This moment I hear the knell of a young gentleman and neighbour, cut off in his bloom by the small-pox. 'Tis very near us: I am afraid for Caroline, to whose family it has been very fatal. Dear sir, &c.