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Mr. Pepys. You are a fine boy, indeed!

Alex. B, O, Y, boy. (Every letter articulated with strong, almost heroic emphasis.)

Mr. P. And do you run about here in this pleasant place all day long?

Alex. D, A, Y, day.

Mr. P. And can you read your book, you sweet little fellow?

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He was in such good looks that all this nonsense won nothing but admiration, and Mr. Pepys could attend to nothing else, and only charged me to let him alone. "For mercy's sake, don't make him study," cried Sir Lucas also; "he is so well disposed that you must rather repress than advance him, or his health may pay the forfeit of his application."

"O, leave him alone!" cried Mr. Pepys: "take care only of his health and strength; never fear such a boy as that wanting learning."

I forget if I have mentioned that Lady Rothes and Sir Lucas (the wife will come first here) have bought Juniper Hall-not Hole; as, from its being lower, the residence M. de Narbonne had was called;-nor am I sure if they had not made the purchase before you left us. When we returned our many visits, we were let in by Lady Rothes, who was with only her daughter, Lady Harriet, and who told us the Princess Amelia had just passed by with her suite, in her way to Worthing. I was so much vexed not to have been a little earlier that I might have had a glance of her lovely countenance, that it quite spoiled my visit, by occupying me with regret.

Fatigue, joined to a kind reception, led us to make a long visit at Lady Templetown's; and while we were there, Lady Henry Fitzgerald arrived. You know, I

dare say, she was my old acquaintance Miss Boyle, daughter to my friend Mrs. Walsingham. I had never seen her since she was a mere girl; but she recollected me the moment she looked at me. She had purposed repeatedly coming to our cottage, but Mrs. Lock, fearing it might be inconvenient to us, had deterred her. I was very glad to see the happiness and hilarity that beamed in her eyes and spoke in her voice and manner.

The younger Lady Templetown seemed enchanted with the view of our simple dwelling, and all the more in the romance of early youth, unhackneyed and unspoiled; for seeing it unfinished and unfurnished, and conceiving that we could be happy and gay in such a state, she ran up-stairs, uninvited, and seemed longing to visit the kitchen, the bed-chambers, and the tool-house. The name of a cottage had interested her, and to know people who inhabited one appeared to give her a romantic pleasure that, in her rank and situation, seemed very amiable.

Amongst the Norbury visitors of this summer were the Vs, now emigrated from Holland; and reduced from their splendid establishment to so small a little dwelling, at Islington, that they call ours a great estate in its comparison! What lamentable changes has that eventful and dreadful revolution brought to bear! I never hear but of one good change it has caused, which is that of name in a certain sister of yours.

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I was extremely surprised to be told by the maid a gentleman and lady had called at the door, who sent in a card and begged to know if I could admit them; and to see the names on the card were Mr. and Mrs. Barbauld. I had never seen them more than twice; the first time by their own desire, Mrs. Chapone carried me to meet them at Mr. Burrows's: the other time, I think, was at

Mrs. Chapone's. You must be sure I could not hesitate to receive, and receive with thankfulness, this civility from the authoress of the most useful books, next to Mrs. Trimmer's, that have been yet written for dear little children; though this with the world is probably her very secondary merit, her many pretty poems, and particularly songs, being generally esteemed. But many more have written those as well, and not a few better; for children's books she began the new walk, which has since been so well cultivated, to the great information as well as utility of parents.

Mr. Barbauld is a dissenting minister-an author also, but I am unacquainted with his works. They were in our little dining-parlour-the only one that has any chairs in it—and began apologies for their visit; but I interrupted and finished them with my thanks. She is much altered, but not for the worse to me, though she is for herself, since the flight of her youth, which is evident, has, taken also with it a great portion of an almost set smile, which had an air of determined complacence and prepared acquiescence that seemed to result from a sweetness which never risked being off guard. I remember Mrs. Chapone's saying to me, after our interview, "She is a very good young woman, as well as replete with talents; but why must one always smile so? It makes my poor jaws ache to look at her."

We talked, of course, of that excellent lady; and you will believe I did not quote her notions of smiling. The Burrows family, she told me, was quite broken up; old Mrs. Amy alone remaining alive. Her brother, Dr. Aiken, with his family, were passing the summer at Dorking, on account of his ill-health, the air of that town having been recommended for his complaints. The Barbaulds were come to spend some time with him, and

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would not be so near without renewing their acquaintance. They had been walking in Norbury Park, which they admired very much; and Mrs. Barbauld very elegantly said, "If there was such a public officer as a legislator of taste, Mr. Lock ought to be chosen for it.”

They inquired much about M. d'Arblay, who was working in his garden, and would not be at the trouble of dressing to appear. They desired to see Alex, and I produced him; and his orthographical feats were very well-timed here, for as soon as Mrs. Barbauld said "What is your name, you pretty creature?" he sturdily answered, "B, O, Y, boy."

Almost all our discourse was upon the Irish rebellion. Mr. Barbauld is a very little, diminutive figure, but wellbred and sensible.

I borrowed her poems, afterwards, of Mr. Daniel, who chanced to have them, and have read them with much esteem of the piety and worth they exhibit, and real admiration of the last amongst them, which is an epistle to Mr. Wilberforce in favour of the demolition of the slavetrade, in which her energy seems to spring from the real spirit of virtue, suffering at the luxurious depravity which can tolerate, in a free land, so unjust, cruel, and abominable a traffic.

We returned their visit together in a few days, at Dr. Aiken's lodgings, at Dorking, where, as she permitted M. d'Arblay to speak French, they had a very animated discourse upon buildings, French and English, each supporting those of their own country with great spirit, but my monsieur, to own the truth, having greatly the advantage both in manner and argument. He was in spirits, and came forth with his best exertions. Dr. Aiken looks very sickly, but is said to be better: he has a good coun

tenance.

The poor Mr. Daniel, whom you may remember, as a very good and melancholy French priest, visiting us at Bookham, ventured over to France before the barbarous 4th of September, believing he might be restored to his friends; but he was seized, imprisoned many months, and then turned adrift into fresh exile, penniless and hopeless. He returned so mournful, so depressed, that we have, perforce, made much more intimacy with him from compassion for his undeserved sufferings. He lives at Mr. Swaine's, the apothecary, at Dorking, upon the little pittance he obtains from Government and a few scholars to whom he teaches French. He is now much revived and cheered with the hope of a new turn in affairs.

One new acquaintance we have found it impossible to avoid. The only house in Westhamble village which is not occupied by farmers or poor people is now inhabited by a large family from the City, of the name of Dickenson. They called here immediately upon our establishing ourselves in our cottage. It was indispensable to return a first visit. You have been at the house, my dearest Susan, to see Madame de Broglie; it is now, they say, greatly improved. Mr. Dickenson, or Captain Dickenson, as his name-card says,is a very shy but seems a sensible man, and his lady is open, chatty, fond of her children, and anxious to accomplish them. She seems between thirty and forty, and very lively. She is of French origin, though born here, and of parents immediately English; but her grandfather was a M. de Brissac.

A gentleman, who seemed to belong to them but whom we knew not, meanwhile, was yet more assiduous than themselves to make acquaintance here. He visited M. d'Arblay while working in his garden, brought him newspapers, gazettes extraordinary, political letters with

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