his mouth, we hold up our hands with admiration at his vivacity. Your conversation with Mr. Cumberland astonished me. I certainly think his experience of stage effect, and his interest with players, so important, as almost instantly to wish putting his sincerity to the proof. How has he got these two characters-one, of Sir Fretful Plagiary, detesting all works but those he owns, and all authors but himself; the other, of a man too perfect even to know or conceive the vices of the world, such as he is painted by Goldsmith in Retaliation?' And which of these characters is true? 66 I am not at all without thoughts of a future revise of Edwy and Elgiva,' for which I formed a plan on the first night, from what occurred by the representation. And let me own to you, when you commend my bearing so well a theatrical drubbing," I am by no means enabled to boast I bear it with conviction of my utter failure. The piece was certainly not heard, and therefore not really judged. The audience finished with an unmixed applause on hearing it was withdrawn for alterations, and I have considered myself in the publicly accepted situation of having at my own option to let the piece die, or attempt its resuscitation,-its reform, as Mr. Cumberland calls it. However, I have not given one moment to the matter since my return to the Hermitage. F. D'A. P.S.-I should be very glad to hear good news of the revival of poor Mr. Burke. Have you ever seen him since this fatality in his family? I am glad, nevertheless, with all my heart, of Mr. Hastings's honourable acquittal. Dr. Burney to Madame d'Arblay. Chelsea College, June 9, 1795. MY DEAR FANNY,-I have been such an évaporé lately, that, if I were near enough to accost you, it would be in Susey's exclamation, when she was just arrived from France, and had stayed at Mrs. Lewis's till ten o'clock at night-" Que je suis libertine, papa!”" and Que je suis libertin, ma fille! Three huge assemblies at Spencer House; two dinners at the Duke of Leeds'; two clubs; a déjeuner at Mrs. Crewe's villa at Hampstead; a dinner at Lord Macartney's; two ditto at Mr. Crewe's; two philosophical conversaziones at Sir Joseph Banks's; Haydn's benefit; Salomon's ditto, &c. &c. What profligacy! But what argufies all this festivity?-'tis all vanity and exhalement of spirit. I am tired to death of it all, while your domestic and maternal joys are as fresh as the roses in your garden. And here let me congratulate your honest gardener on "the clouds dropping fatness,"-" visiting each plant, and feeding "Flowers, worthy Paradise. To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east His flowery arbours and his alleys green That mock his scant manuring, and require More hands than his to lop their wanton growth: Mason has sent me his Essays on Church Music' (the only book he gave away, according to Mr. Stonehewer). He is very civil to me in all parts of his book; but is more tolerant to parochial psalmody than I have been in my life, or ever shall be; but for this he apologises, and I laugh at the cause of our differ ence. I must tell you what happened at Mrs. Crewe's déjeuner. I arrived late, and met many people coming away, but still found the house and gardens full of fashionables. It was a cold-lunch day, and, after eating was over, people went into the bit of a garden to a lottery, or to take a turn. Among the peripateticopoliticians, there was Lord Sheffield, the Master of the Rolls, Canning, with abundance of et ceteras, and Mr. Erskine. On meeting him and Mrs. Erskine, we renewed last year's acquaintance. After we had passed each other several times, we got into conversation, and what do you think about, but the reform of parliament ? He told me his whole plan of virtuous representation; -what new county members were to be added, what rotten boroughs destroyed; and his ideas of keeping down corruption from ruining the state. It is not to be quite universal suffrage at elections, which are to be triennial, &c. &c. "Well, but," says I quietly, "can government go on without influence, or a majority when its measures are good?" Oh, yes; the people will be in good humour, and easily governed.” "But, my good Sir !-you, who understand these things so much better than I, be so good as to tell me, what is the ultimate end of Reform, if the present Constitution of King, Lords, and Commons is allowed to subsist, but to make it easy to pull down a minister, at least? and if it is rendered easy to pull down Mr. Pitt, will it not be easy, likewise, to pull down Mr. Fox, or any successor ?" He did not seem prepared for so queer a question; he shuffled about, and gave me an equivocal No, which more clearly said Yes. All this while he had hold of my arm, and people stared at our intimacy, while that rogue Mrs. Crewe and the Marchioness of Buckingham were upstairs, sitting at a window, wondering and laughing at our confabulation. I have been able to call on Lord Orford but twice since my illness. He was at Strawberry Hill the first time; the second I found him alone, and he was very cordial, quaint, and pleasant; made great inquiries after you; and seemed main eager about my Metastasio, and,—would you think it?-charged me to give plenty of translations from his poetry. I have seen nothing of Mr. Cumberland since my last,--not even one of his three successful new plays in one season. I received of Cadell's son, about a fortnight ago, the balance of your pamphlet in favour of the destitute French Priests, which I immediately put into the hands of Mrs. Crewe,-201. 7s. She insisted on your mother's having the pleasure of relieving with 10%. of it some of her numerous poor emigrant acquaintances, but since has had it refunded to her for some poor miserable English nuns lately come from Holland, who are literally starving with hunger, and in want of every necessary of life. Lady Buckingham and Mrs. Crewe visit them at Bayswater, and administer to them every assistance in their power. God bless you! C. B. Madame d'Arblay to Mrs. Bookham, June 15, '95. No, my dear M—, no;—" this poor intercourse" shall never cease, while the hand that writes this assurance can hold a pen! I have been very much touched with your letter, its affection, and its-everything. Do not for the world suffer this our only communication to "dwindle away :" for me, though the least punctual of all correspondents, I am, perhaps, the most faithful of all friends; for my regard, once excited, keeps equal energy in absence as in presence, and an equally fond and minute interest in those for whom I cherish it, whether I see them but at the distance of years, or with every day's sun. Sun it is, even in winter, that shines upon sights so sweet as of persons beloved. My dear and darling sister Phillips will now once more experience this truth, for last Monday she left Mickleham-Norbury Park-Bookham-every spot most dear to her, to go and live in London! Will she, think you, for that, be ever absent from my mind? Will my new ties, dear almost to adoration as they are to me, ever obliterate my former ones? No, my dear M-, all those whom I best love have something, more or less, of resemblance one to another; each, therefore, rather helps than mars my affection for the rest. I love nobody for nothing; I am not so tindery! therefore there must be change in the object before there can be any in me. I have much to say to you. * And lastly, let me hasten to tell you something of myself that I shall be very sorry you should hear from |