mother, who would have received them with infinite delight, but Heaven knew best. I consider these little creatures as messengers she sends to me, to keep up the intercourse of friendship, till we meet to part no more.

I am,

my dearest Cousin's

most faithful, and affectionate friend,

E. MONTAGU.

To the Same.

Sandleford, the 3d of September.

I AM much obliged to my dear cousin, for his kind and agreeable letter, which gave me a higher pleasure and more intense delight, than those rural objects which employed my attention in my walks, or filled the magic lantern of my mind, in those noonday dreams, you suppose to have amused me. You are mistaken, when you imagine I send invitations to

beaux and belles, to fill the vacant apartments of my mind. True indeed, that there may be empty space enough to receive French hoops, and, from the same reason, an echo to repeat French sentiments; but there are few of the fine world whom I should invite into my mind, and fewer still, who are familiar enough there, to come unasked. I make use of these seasons of retirement and leisure, to do like the good housewives, to sweep the rooms, range the little homely furniture in order, and deck them with a little sage and other herbs of grace, as they are called, and then hope the fairies will come and visit them, and not the dull creatures of earth's mould, of whom I have enough when I am in town. But you are a welcome and a frequent guest, because you bring with you those virtues and graces, whose presence I would desire. I am pleased with your praise of Moliere, but not with your application of his Misanthrope. When virtue and wisdom live out of the world, they grow delicate, but it is too severe to call

that moroseness; and, perhaps, they lose something of their purity, when they mix with the crowd, and abate in strength, as they improve in flexibility There is a limit, and a short one too, beyond which human virtue cannot go; a hair's breadth beyond the line, and it is vice. I am now satisfied of what I had before believed, (as you seem so much to admire the Misanthrope,) that it is far beyond all comedies that ever were written. The character being so entirely kept up, and the error, though every where visible, no where monstrous. The Misanthrope has the same moroseness in his love suit and his law suit; he is as rigid and severe to a bad verse as a bad action, and as strict in à salutation in the street or address in a drawing room, as he would be in his testimony in a court of justice; right in the principle, wrong only in the excess, you cannot hate him when he is unpleasant, nor despise him when he is absurd. When the groundwork of a character is virtuous, whatever fantastic forms or uncouth figures may wrought upon it, it cannot appear abso

be

lutely odious or ridiculous. On the contrary, where the ground is vicious, however prettily adorned or gayly coloured, set it in open day, it will be detestable; of which we have an instance in this play; we hate and despise the lively agreeable coquette, as soon as we discover her, and esteem the rigid unamiable Misanthrope. I think my young cousin can hardly have a better amusement than reading Moliere; from whose delicate wit and nice satirical touch, he will find that not only the worst passions want correction and restraint, but the best regulation. The first prayer I should make, if I had a son, would be that he might be free from vice; the second, that he might be free from absurdity, the least grain of it spoils a whole character, and I do not know any comic author more useful than Moliere, for both

these purposes.. Our English play writers give some vice or affectation, to all their principal characters. I am very well, and careful of my health; all people are fond of novelty and you know health is such to me, but nothing can more recommend it to me,

than thinking my welfare of consequence to you. Adieu, Cousin! I must put on a great hoop, and go three miles to dinner; how much better was our gipsey life! I believe I shall enter myself of the society at Norwood, the rather tempted to it, as I should be your neighbour. I have not heard from Mrs. Boscawen, but I am glad she had the pleasure of spending some time at Wickham.

I am, &c. &c.

ELIZ. MONTagu.