pired on Sunday morning: when I have seen he buried, I shall come to London; and it will be particular satisfaction to me to find you there. I you can procure me a tolerable lodging near you, b so good (if you can conveniently) to let me know the night you receive this; if not, I shall go to my old landlord in Jermyn Street. I believe I shall come on Tuesday, and stay a few days, for I must return hither to pay my aunt her arrears, which she will demand with great exactness. Adieu, dear Sir, I am ever yours,

and

day we shall be at York. If the time does not su you, you will inform me as soon as possible. I di not run away from his Grace, but followed you advice, had a very affectionate squeeze by the hand and a fine compliment in a corner. Many peopl here have been curious to know what it was; bu I have kept my own secret, for indeed I do no know myself; only I remember it felt warm, sweated a little. Adieu! You will not fail to present my compliments to Mrs. Wharton. If she drank as much claret as you have done, we shall have the boy stand for the county, as soon as he can walk alone. Mr. Brown (I believe) will be engaged here with Plummer greatest part of the summer; he and Tuthill desire to be remembered to you both. I am ever, truly yours,

stroke of the palsy, so that I stayed only a sing day, and set out for this place. I found her r covered surprisingly from the greatest danger, h speech only is not yet quite restored; but it is easi intelligible to such as are used to her. Is not th something extraordinary at seventy-seven?

I met Mason at York, and passed that evening with him... ***** has absolutely no support a present but his Fellowship; yet he looks more lik a hero, than ever I knew him, like one that can stare poverty in the face without being frighted and instead of growing little and humble before her, has fortified his spirit, and elevated his brow, to meet her like a man. In short, if he can hold it, I shall admire him; for I always maintained, that nobody has occasion for pride, but the poor; and that every where else it is a sign of folly.

My journey was not so bad as usual in a stagecoach. There was a Lady Swinburne, a RomanCatholick, not young, that had been much abroad, seen a great deal, knew a great many people, very chatty and communicative, so that I passed my time very well; and on the third day left them at Stilton, and got to Cambridge that night. As I know and have heard mighty little to entertain you with, I can only tell you my observations on the face of the country, and the season in my way hither, that you may compare them with what you see at Durham. Till I came to York, I thought the face of every thing rather altered for the worse, certainly not better than that corner of the Bishoprick