with the manor in Lincolnshire.-But, as I was saying, we were at breakfast at Lord W-'s. His son and the bride were by; Lord C. had velvet breeches, and gold clocks in his stockings; the question was, whether this was proper? I put it to the bride; I made her blush, I warrant you; she was a fine woman, a prodigious fine woman; she always used my wash-ball: I wrote out the receipt for her; it was given me at Vienna by Count ; a very great man Count O——, and knew more of the affairs of the empire than any man in Germany.-From him I first learned with certainty, that the Duchess of Lorraine's two fore-teeth were false ones. I remember he had an old grey monkey-Sister Mary, you have heard me tell the story of Count O's monkey."-But here it pleased heaven that William called his master out of the room, and saved us from the Count and his old grey monkey.

This superficial knowledge of great men, and accidental acquaintance with some of the terms of state business, has given him a consequential sort of phraseology, which he applies, with all the gravity in the world, to the most trifling occurrences. When he orders the chaise for his eldest sister, himself, and me, the white pad for Sóphy, and the old roan mare for her attendant, he calls it, “regulating the order of the procession;" when he gives out the wine from the cellar, and the groceries from the store-room, (for he does both in person,) he tells us, he has been "granting the supplies;" the acceptance, or offer of a visit, he lays before " a committee of the whole house;" and for the killing of the fat ox this Christmas, he called the gentlemen three successive mornings to "a grand council of war."

It were well if all this were only matter of amusement; but some of us find it a source of very serious distress. Your

managing men are commonly plagues; but Mr R. manages so much to a hair'sbreadth, that he is a downright torment to the other members of his family. It was but yesterday we had the honour of a ceremonious visit from some great folks, as we think them, who came lately from your town to eat their mince-pies in the country. After a wonderful ringing of bells, calling of servants, and trampling upon the stairs all morning, Mr R. came down to the drawing-room at a quarter before three, with all his usual fiddle-faddlation, but, as I thought, in very good humour. He had on his great company wig, and his round set shoe-buckles. The servants had their liveries new white-balled, and the best china was set out, with the large silver salvers, and the embossed porter-cups, on the side-board. The covers were stripped from the worked chairbottoms, and his grandmother's little diced carpet was taken off the roller, and

laid, like a patch, on the middle of the floor, the naked part of which was all shining with bees-wax. The company came at their hour; the beef was roasted to a turn; dinner went on with all imaginable good order and stupidity; supper was equally regular and sleepy; in short, every thing seemed quite as it should be: yet, next morning, I perceived foul weather in all the faces of the family; Mr R. and his sister scarce spoke to one another, and he talked all the time of breakfast, of female carelessness and inattention. Miss Sophia explained it to me when we were left alone. "Oh! do you know," said she, "a sad affair happened last night: my brother and sister had such a tiff! You must understand, before the company arrived yesterday, he had, as usual, adjusted the ceremonial of their different apartments; but he discovered, on attending them to their rooms at night, that my sister had put the gilt-china bottle and

bason into the callico bed-chamber, and the ordinary blue and white into the pink damask." It is lucky this man is no guardian of mine; were he to watch me as he does his sisters, and see all the odds and ends about me! But what has he to do to be a guardian? Yet nature, perhaps, meant him for something, if fortune had allowed it; he might have been excellently employed in a pin-shop, in sticking the rows in a pin-paper.

I fancy you have quite enough of my landlord. You used to say I was the best of your philosophers, your Democritus in petticoats. If I have an inch of philosophy about me, it is without my knowledge, I assure you; you are welcome to it, however, such as it is. Other folks may give you what I have heard you call the great views of nature and life; it is enough for me if I can enrich your collection with a paper of insects.

Yours most truly,

C. F.