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Memoirs of William Hazlitt
Chap. I 1778-1811

‣ Chap. I 1778-1811
Ch. II: 1791-95
Ch. III 1795-98
Ch. IV 1798
Ch. V 1798
Ch. VI 1792-1803
Ch. VII 1803-05
Ch. VIII 1803-05
Ch. IX
Ch. X 1807
Ch. XI 1808
Ch. XII 1808
Ch. XII 1812
Ch. XIV 1814-15
Ch. XV 1814-17
Ch. XVI 1818
Ch. XVII 1820
Ch. XX 1821
Ch. I 1821
Ch. II 1821-22
Ch. III 1821-22
Ch. IV 1822
Ch. V 1822
Ch. VI 1822
Ch. VII 1822-23
Ch. VIII 1822
Ch. IX 1823
Ch. X 1824
Ch. XI 1825
Ch. XII 1825
Ch. XIII 1825
Ch. XIV 1825
Ch. XV 1825
Ch. XVI 1825-27
Ch. XVII 1826-28
Ch. XVIII 1829-30
Ch. XX
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Book I.—1778-1811.

The Foundations—The Hazlitts in Ireland—Migration from the North—John Hazlitt of Shrone-Hill—His family and pursuits—Early years of William Hazlitt.

In the reign of his Majesty King George the First there migrated from the North of Ireland, and from the county of Antrim (as it is traditionally reported), two Irish Protestants. They came to settle in Tipperary, and near the town of Tipperary, namely at Shronell (so pronounced, but spelled Shrone-Hill), they found a new home, where, perhaps, they were enabled to pursue their respective vocations more peacefully than they had done farther northward.

One of these persons was a flax-factor; of the other, the precise occupation has not been handed down. The name of the flax-factor was John Hazlitt; the name of his companion was John Damer.

They were both young men when they came to Shronell, I collect; for John Hazlitt, at all events,
could scarcely have been married when he set up this flax business. His eldest son was born at Shronell on the 18th of April, 1737, and was named
William. He had a second son James, who appears to have been William’s junior by some years. Whether there were other sons, I cannot find; but there were several daughters, of whom two were christened Sara and Maria.

The registers of Shronell are so imperfect, and the Hazlitts of Ireland have been so negligent in preserving records of their family history, that I despair of discovering farther particulars of John Hazlitt of Shronell. He lies buried in the churchyard of that place, and with him are some of his children, and that John Damer who had accompanied him from his native town.

I assume that the affairs of Mr. Hazlitt of Shronell (as I must call him for the sake of distinction) progressed not unfavourably, and that he was a person of somewhat superior views. It was his wife’s particular ambition, too, that William should be brought up to the Church. Accordingly, in 1756, in his nineteenth year, William Hazlitt of Shronell was sent to the University of Glasgow,* where he had the good fortune to

* The expenses of an education at Glasgow at that period were about 20l. of our money, and a person could live very fairly at Glasgow upon seven or eight shillings a week. The presence of two of his sons at the University, therefore, by no means necessarily implies that Mr. Hazlitt of Shronell was the possessor of large means; but it does seem to imply that he wished his children to reap certain advantages of mental culture not to be had nearer home in his day, and to get a step higher in the world than he was.

be contemporary with
Adam Smith. He matriculated on the 13th November the same year, and the following are the exact terms of the original entry in the university books:—

Nov. 13, 1756—Logic Class. Prof. James Clow, A.M. Gulielmus Hazelitt, filius natus maximus Joannis, mercatoris in comitatu de Tipperary.”

The books of graduates from 1730 to 1762 have disappeared, and it cannot therefore be ascertained with similar precision when he took his degree of Artium Magister. But it must have been about 1761.

His brother James was also educated at Glasgow. He matriculated on the 13th November, 1762, and got his A.M. on the 21st May, 1767. I am tempted to furnish the entries as they stand:—

“Nov. 13, 1762.—Logic Class. Prof. James Clow. Jacobus Hazelitt, filius natus secundus Joannis, mercatoris in par. de Shronhill in com. Tipperary.”

“[A. M.] Jacobus Hazelitt, Hibernus, Maii 21mo. 1767.”*

Having graduated at Glasgow, as we may with a certainty of not being far from the truth assume, in 1761, William Hazlitt joined the Unitarians, and crossed over to England—the first of the race and name who had tried to find a home on English ground.

He was a man of inflexible probity, solid erudition, equal charity of feeling and practice, and of a decidedly

* The descendants of James Hazlitt, William’s younger brother, still remain in Tipperary, but they have left Shrone-Hill, and are settled at Featherd, three miles away. James lived by the proceeds of a tan-yard, which he kept at Shrone-Hill.

intellectual bent of mind, but of peculiarly unaspiring temperament, humble in his tastes, as he was in his fortunes: a very fair pattern of an old English pastor. He delighted to “browse upon folios of the Fathers,” and to walk in his garden, looking after his turnips and brocoli, and watering his peas; and sometimes he strolled into the adjoining fields. For nearly all his long life was passed in the country, in charge of Unitarian congregations here or there. For a short time, about 1785, I find him living in or near the metropolis.

If ever there was a career which was blameless, placid, and consoling in retrospect, it was this poor and good old man’s. I shall beg to reserve for another opportunity, and a greater pen than this, the task of more closely and graphically delineating his character, and of picturing him for us as he was.

His first appointment to the ministry was at Wisbeach, in Cambridgeshire, whither he proceeded in 1764, being then twenty-seven years of age. He made here the acquaintance of Mr. Loftus, a farmer in the neighbourhood, towards whose daughter Grace he gradually formed an attachment. The liking seems to have been reciprocal, and in 1766 they were married. Miss Loftus was nine years his junior. She was a very handsome girl, bred and brought up in an unpretending way, and proved an affectionate wife and parent.

Even before his marriage he had resigned his charge at Wisbeach, and was transferred to Marshfield, in Gloucestershire, where a son was born to him in 1767.
This son was christened
John, perhaps after John Hazlitt of Shrone-Hill.

The Hazlitts remained at Marshfield till 1770-1, when they shifted their quarters once more, this time to Maidstone, in Kent. The family threatened to be a grave incumbrance on the minister’s scanty income; a daughter, Peggy, had been born since John, and other children succeeded in the fulness of time. The latter however died young, with a single exception, and it was an important one.

It was their youngest of all, who, with John and Peggy, was spared to them. They called him William, after his father, and he was born in Mitre Lane, Maidstone, on the 10th April, 1778.

They remained at Maidstone two years longer, and Mr. Hazlitt appears during his residence in the town to have been highly respected for his virtues and his learning. He enjoyed the acquaintance of Dr. Franklin. He corresponded with Dr. Priestley and with Dr. Priestley’s friend, Dr. Price. The Rev. Dr. Caleb Fleming was also a friend of his at the same period.

He left Maidstone in 1780 to return to Ireland, where he had accepted a preferment; it was to preside over a congregation of Unitarians at Bandon, in the county of Cork. He was settled here three years—“during which time,” observes a writer in the Monthly Repository “(as he had always shown himself a zealous advocate for American independence) he exerted himself in behalf of the American prisoners confined at Kinsale, near that town. . . .”


“On the conclusion of the war with America,” continues the same authority,* “he removed from Bandon to New York, with his wife and family, where he arrived in May, 1783, and soon proceeded to Philadelphia; and on his way to that city, the Assembly of the States-General for New Jersey, then sitting at Burlington, sent a deputation to invite him to preach before them, with which he complied. At Philadelphia he stayed fifteen months,”and besides preaching occasionally at various places of worship there, he delivered during the winter, in the college, a course of Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity. . . .”

Mr. Hazlitt made a short stay at Boston, where be founded the first Unitarian Church, and here he declined the proffered diploma of D.D. He returned to England in 1786-7, and took up his abode at Wem, in Shropshire. His son John was now rising into manhood, and had chosen the life of an artist in miniature,† William was a child of eight or nine. There is a very small likeness of him on ivory, painted in the New World, in the early morning of American freedom, and representing a beautiful little boy, with blue eyes, and long rich brown hair falling over his shoulders. This lets us see what William Hazlitt was at an age when most children have no formed expression; and even

* The Rev. G. P. Hinton. He had the best opportunity of knowing the truth, for his memoir of the Rev. W. Hazlitt was founded on information supplied to him by the family.

Peggy Hazlitt was also a successful essayist in oils, and was a good flower-painter. If she had had instruction she would have made an artist.

then there are promising symptoms in the turn of the mouth and inarticulate eloquence of the eyes.

Wem was the earliest English home of which little William had any personal recollection. It seems to have been from there that the earliest specimen of his correspondence was directed to the Rev. W. Hazlitt, who was temporarily at a friend’s house in London. The writer could not have been more than eight when he penned this precocious epistle:—

“12 of Nov. [1786?]
“My dear Papa,

“I shall never forget that we came to america. If we had not came to america, we should not have been away from one and other, though now it can not be helped. I think for my part that it would have been a great deal better if the white people had not found it out. Let the [others] have it to themselves, for it was made for them. I have got a little of my grammar; sometimes I get three pages and sometimes but one. I do not sifer any at all. Mamma Peggy and Jacky are all very well, and I am to—

“I still remain your most
“Affectionate Son,
“William Hazlitt.
“The Rev. Mr. Hazlitt, London.
“To the care of Mr. David Lewes.”

He was carefully educated under his father’s roof at Wem, during his tender years, and he proved a docile pupil. The recollection of their visit to America
haunted him ever so long afterwards, as witness these words of his, written down five-and-thirty years later:—

“The taste of barberries, which have hung out in the snow during the severity of a North American winter, I have in my mouth still, after an interval of thirty years; for I have met with no other taste, in all that time, at all like it. It remains by itself, almost like the impression of a sixth sense.”

John Hazlitt, the elder brother, had in the mean time studied under Sir Joshua Reynolds, and had finally established himself as a miniature painter in London. He lived in apartments at No. 288, High Holborn; and in 1788, being then only a youth of nineteen, he had the gratification of seeing two articles of his hung at the Royal Academy—a frame with four miniatures, and a portrait of A Lady. To him his brother William addressed from Wem a letter of news and congratulation:—

“Wem, Saturday morning,
“March —, 1788,
“Dear Brother,

“I received your letter this morning. We were all glad to hear that you were well, and that you have so much business to do. We cannot be happy without being employed. I want you to tell me whether you go to the Academy or not, and what pictures you intend for the exhibition. Tell the exhibitioners to finish the exhibition soon, that you may soon come and see us. You must send your picture to us directly. You want to know what I do. I am a busybody, and do many
silly things; I drew eyes and noses till about a fortnight ago. I have drawn a little boy since, a man’s face, and a little boy’s front face, taken from a bust. Next Monday I shall begin to read ‘
Ovid’s Metamorphoses’ and ‘Eutropius.’ I shall like to know all the Latin and Greek I can. I want to learn how to measure the stars. I shall not, I suppose, paint the worse for knowing everything else. I begun to cypher a fortnight after Christmas, and shall go into the rule of three next week. I can teach a boy of sixteen already who was cyphering eight months before me; is he not a great dunce? I shall go through the whole cyphering book this summer, and then I am to learn Euclid. We go to school at nine every morning. Three boys begin with reading the Bible. Then I and two others show our exercises. We then read the ‘Speaker.’ Then we all set about our lessons, and those who are first ready say first. At eleven we write and cypher. In the afternoon we stand for places at spelling, and I am almost always first. We also read, and do a great deal of business besides. I can say no more about the boys here: some are so sulky they wont play; others are quarrelsome because they cannot learn, and are fit only for fighting like stupid dogs and cats. I can jump four yards at a running jump and two at a standing jump. I intend to try you at this when you come down. We are not all well, for poor Peggy has a great cold. You spelled Mr. Vaughan’s name wrong, for you spelled it Vaughn. Write soon again. I wish I could see all those paintings that you see, and that Peggy had a good
prize. I don’t want your old clothes. I shall go to dancing this month. This is all I can say.

“I am your affectionate brother,
“William Hazlitt.”

Two years afterwards William Hazlitt paid a visit to Liverpool, where he was received at the house of a friend of the family—I imagine Mr. Railton—of whom more will be said hereafter:—

“Saturday, March —, 1790.
“Dear Father,

“I now sit down to spend a little time in an employment, the productions of which I know will give you pleasure, though I know that every minute that I am employed in doing anything which will be advantageous to me, will give you pleasure. Happy, indeed unspeakably happy, are those people who, when at the point of death, are able to say, with a satisfaction which none but themselves can have any idea of—‘I have done with this world, I shall now have no more of its temptations to struggle with, and praise be to God I have overcome them; now no more sorrow, now no more grief, but happiness for evermore!’ But how unspeakably miserable is that man who, when his pleasures are going to end, when his lamp begins to grow dim, is compelled to say,—‘Oh that I had done my duty to God and man! oh that I had been wise, and spent that time which was kindly given me by Providence, for a purpose quite contrary to that which I employed it to, as I should
have done; but it is now gone; I cannot recal time, nor can I undo all my wicked actions. I cannot seek that mercy which I have so often despised. I have no hope remaining. I must do as well as I can—but who can endure everlasting fire?’ Thus does the wicked man breathe his last, and without being able to rely upon his good, with his last breath, in the anguish of his soul, says, ‘Have mercy upon me a sinner, O God!’—After I had sealed up my last letter to you, George asked me if I were glad the Test Act was not repealed? I told him, No. Then he asked me why? and I told him because I thought that all the people who are inhabitants of a country, of whatsoever sect or denomination, should have the same rights with others.—But, says he, then they would try to get their religion established, or something to that purpose.—Well, what if it should be so?—He said that the Church religion was an old one.—Well, said I, Popery is older than that.—But then, said he, the Church religion is better than Popery.—And the Presbyterian is better than that, said I. I told him I thought so for certain reasons, not because I went to chapel. But at last, when I had overpowered him with my arguments, he said he wished he understood it as well as I did, for I was too high learned for him. I then went to the concert. But as I am now going with George to a Mrs. Cupham, I must defer the rest of my letter till another time. I have gotten to the 36th verse, 15th chapter.

Monday morning.—I was very much pleased at the concert; but I think Meredith’s singing was worth all
the rest. “When we came out of the concert, which was about nine o’clock, we went to Mrs. Chilton’s, at whose house we slept. It rained the next morning, but I was not much wet coming home. George was very much wet, and the colour of his coat was almost spoiled. On Wednesday Mr. Clegg did not come, as he was confined to his bed. On Wednesday evening Mr. Dolounghpryeé came, to whom I was very attentive. I was sorry Mr. Clegg did not come on Saturday, but I hope he will come on Wednesday next. Saturday afternoon I and George, with Miss Avis, went to a Mrs. Bartton’s, who appeared to be an unhospitable English prim ‘lady,’ if such she may be called. She asked us, as if she were afraid we should accept it, if we would stay to tea. And at the other English person’s, for I am sure she belongs to no other country than to England, I got such a surfeit of their ceremonial unsociality, that I could not help wishing myself in America. I had rather people would tell one to go out of the house than ask one to stay, and, at the same time, be trembling all over, for fear one should take a slice of meat, or a dish of tea, with them. Such as these require an
Horace or a Shakspeare to describe them. I have not yet learned the gamut perfectly, but I would have done it if I could. I spent a very agreeable day yesterday, as I read 160 pages of Priestley, and heard two good sermons; the best of which, in my opinion, was Mr. Lewin’s, and the other Mr. Smith’s. They both belong to Benn’s Gardens Chapel. Mr. Nicholls called last night, who informed me that he sent the note by his boy, who left
it with the servant, and that when he went again, Mr. Yates had not received it; so that I have not yet received the books, which I am very sorry for. I forgot to tell you, Winfield and all the other part of the family are very well, and that Mrs. Tracey said, I said my French task very well last Saturday. I am now almost at the end of my letter, and shall therefore answer all questions in your letter, which I received this morning, which I have not already answered. And in the first place. I have not seen Mr. Kingston since. I am glad that you liked my letter to Joe, which I was afraid he had not received, as you said nothing about it. Does he intend to answer me? Miss Shepherd will go on Monday, I believe, and I shall go with her. I have not seen Mr. Yates since I wrote last. I do not converse in French; but I and Miss Tracey have a book, something like a vocabulary, where we get the meanings of words. Miss Tracey never does accompts, but I take an hour or two every other day. I will follow your Greek precept. Give my best love to mamma, and tell her I shall write to her next time, and hope she will write to me in answer to it. Give my respects to Mr. and Miss Cottons, and to every other inquirer, not forgetting Kynaston. I wish people made larger paper. I shall put this into the post-office to-night, Monday evening.”

“I am your affectionate son,
“William Hazlitt.”

John Hazlitt was much pleased at his little brother’s
letter, and wrote to his father, expressing this satisfaction. This produced the following:—

“Wem, March —, 1790.
“My dear William,

“Your brother said that your letter to him was very long, very clever, and very entertaining. On Wednesday evening, we had your letter, which was finished on the preceding Monday. The piety displayed in the first part of it was a great refreshment to me. Continue to cherish those thoughts which then occupied your mind; continue to be virtuous, and you will finally be that happy being whom you describe; and, to this purpose, you have nothing more to do than to pursue that conduct which will always yield you the highest pleasures even in this present life. But he who once gives way to any known vice, in the very instant hazards his total depravity and total ruin. You must, therefore, fixedly resolve never, through any possible motives, to do anything which you believe to be wrong. This will be only resolving never to be miserable; and this I rejoicingly expect will be the unwavering resolution of my William. Your conversation upon the Test Act did you honour. If we only think justly, we shall always easily foil all the advocates of tyranny. The inhospitable ladies whom you mention, were, perhaps, treated by you with too great severity. We know not how people may be circumstanced at a particular moment, whose disposition is generally friendly. They may, then, happen to pass under a cloud, which unfits them for social intercourse.
We must see them more than once or twice to be able to form a tolerable judgment of their characters. There are but few, like Mrs. Tracey, who can always appear what they really are. I do not say, however, that the English ladies whom you mentioned are not exactly as you described them. I only wish to caution you against forming too hasty a judgment of characters, who can seldom be known at a single interview. I wish you, if you can, to become master of the gamut while you are there. I am glad that you have made so great a progress in French, and that you are so very anxious to hear Mr. Clegg’s lectures. It is a pity that you cannot have another month at the French, &c. But, as matters are, I hope you will be soon able to master that language. I am glad that you employed the last Sunday so well, and that the employment afforded you so much satisfaction. Nothing else can truly satisfy us, but the acquisition of knowledge and virtue. May these blessings be yours more and more every day! On Thursday morning we had a letter from Mr. Boatt, written at Boston, 24th of June, just five weeks before we received it. He was forty-six days on his passage from England, with agreeable company. They had sometimes very heavy weather, and so extremely cold, that the sails were frozen to the yards. The last winter was very extraordinary, and very unhealthy in America. Consequently, many persons died in Boston, and in other parts of the country. He says, concerning you, ‘I read Billy’s letter to Fanny, and she was delighted with it. She sends her love to him; but
Fanny has lost the recollection of her little playfellow. The letter does Billy much credit. He has uncommon powers of mind; and, if nothing happens to prevent his receiving a liberal education, he must make a great man.’ This compliment, I know, will not make you proud, or conceited, but more diligent. He also desires his and Mrs. Boatt’s affectionate regards to Billy. You see how careful I am to transmit to you all the news in my power. I must, now, give you some information and directions concerning your return home. Before you leave Liverpool you will not neglect to call upon all persons who have shown you any particular civilities. You will thank Mr. Nicholls for the trouble you have given him, and especially your masters for their attention to you, and Mr. Yates for his books, which you will be careful to return in the good order in which you received them. You will give my respects to Mr. Yates. I wish that he, amongst his friends, could procure for your brother engagements for about a score of pictures at Liverpool this summer, that we might have the pleasure of seeing him here. Your mother gives her love; and she unites with me in affectionate regards to Mrs. and all the Miss Traceys. I am, my dear William, your truly affectionate father,

“W. Hazlitt.
“Wednesday, March, 1790.”

Here is another Liverpool letter, answering the last:—

“Monday, 18th March.
“Dear Papa,

“I this morning received your affectionate letter, and, at the same time, one from my brother and sister, who were very well when they wrote. On Wednesday I received a lexicon, which I was very glad of. I have, since that time, gotten to the 12th verse of the 14th chapter, which is 39 verses from the place I was in before. Mr. Clegg came last Wednesday, and employed the time he staid in showing the Miss Traceys how to find the latitude and longitude of any place, which I can now do upon the globes with ease. Whilst he was here I was as attentive as I could be. He came again on Saturday, and I came in a few minutes after he came. I drank tea at his house the Thursday before, when he asked me to prepare the map of Asia, which Miss Traceys were at that time getting. I answered that I had already gotten it. I said it to him on Saturday, with Miss Traceys, without missing a single word. He, when he had finished with us, bid me have the map of Africa ready by the next time he should come, which I have done. He also asked me to read a dialogue with him, which I did. I should think he intends to teach me geography while I stay. On Thursday he took me and George, with his two brothers, to the glass-house, and then we went to the new fort. On Friday I went to the play with Mr. Corbett, at whose house I dined and drank tea. The play was ‘Love in many Masks,’ and the farce, ‘No Song, no Supper.’ It was very entertaining, and was performed by some of
the best players in London, as for instance,
Kemble, Suett, Dignum, the famous singer, Mrs. Williams, Miss Hagley, Miss Romanzini, and others. Suett, who acted in the character of ‘Ned Blunt,’ was enough to make any one laugh, though he stood still; and Kemble acted admirably as an officer. Mr. Dignum sang beautifully, and Miss Hagley acted the country-girl with much exactness. Mr. Corbett says he will take us to another play before we go. So much for last week. I have been writing an hour now. Yesterday I went to Meeting by myself in the morning, where we had a very good discourse on the 10th of the 2nd chapter of Thess. 2nd—‘With all deceiveableness of unrighteousness.’ From this he drew several conclusions of the false pretences which are made by sin to her followers to happiness; how people are drawn away, by imperceptible degrees, from one degree of sin to another, and so on to greater. I sent a note to Mr. Yates this morning, requesting him to send me a dictionary and ‘Horace.’ Was it right to express myself in this manner? —‘Mr. Hazlitt sends his compliments to Mr. Yates, and would be much obliged to him if he would send him a dictionary and an “Horace.”’

“‘P.S. Papa desired me to remember him to you.’

“On Sunday, after I had come from Meeting, I went, but not willingly, to Mrs. Sydebotham’s to dinner. In the afternoon we went to church, for the first time I ever was in one, and I do not care if I should never go into one again. The clergyman, after he had gabbled
over half a dozen prayers, began his sermon, the text of which was as follows:—Zachariah, 3rd chapter, 2nd verse, latter part—‘Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?’ If a person had come in five minutes after he began, he would have thought that he had taken his text out of Joshua. In short, his sermon had neither head nor tail. I was sorry that so much time should be thrown away upon nonsense. I often wished I was hearing Mr. Yates; but I shall see I do not go to church again in a hurry. I have been very busy to day; I got up at seven and wrote a note for Mr. Yates; and called on Mr. Nicholls with it, who was at breakfast. I then went to the post-office, and there I stayed a good while waiting for my letter, but as they told me the letters were gone to Richmond, I came home to my breakfast. After breakfast I went with George, to buy some paper, down to Mr. Bird; when I came home I sat down to my French, but as Mrs. Tracey wanted some riband, I went to Mr. Bird’s for some; but, as you may suppose, I was not a long time going there. I had almost forgotten to tell you that I wrote to
Joseph Swanwick last week. I have everything ready for Mr. Dolounghpryeé, who comes this evening. I have also made myself perfect in the map of Africa. As I have now given you all the news I can, I shall lay by for the present, and to-morrow, for my observations and reflections. Tell Kynaston I have done the first sum, and understand it quite well. I cannot play any tune on the harpsichord but ‘God save the King.’—Farewell for the present.


“I shall have satis pecuniae, dum tu habeas opportunitatem, mittendi aliquam partem mihi.*

“Tuesday morning.

“I have this morning gotten my French for to-morrow, and thirteen verses of the ‘Testament;’ I have also written out the contractions, and can tell any of them. I said my lessons very well last night; I had only one word wrong in my fable, and not any one in my two verbs. I am to go to the concert to-night. I have written two verbs, and translated my French task. How ineffectual are all pleasures, except those which arise from a knowledge of having done, as far as one knew, that which was right, to make their possessors happy. The people who possess them, at night, lie down upon their beds, and after having spent a wearisome right, rise up in the morning to pursue the same ‘pleasures.’ or, more properly, vain shadows of pleasure, which, like Jacks with lanthorns, as they are called, under a fair outside, at last bring those people who are so foolish as to confide in them into destruction, which they cannot then escape. How different from them is a man who wisely ‘in a time of peace, lays up arms, and such like necessaries in case of a war.’ Mrs. Tracey desires me to give her respects.”

* I apprehend that the opportunitates of my great-grandfather were neither large nor frequent at this or any other period of his honest, unambitious career. To what precise extent he was enabled to supply his son William with funds, during the absences of the latter from home, I have no means of knowing; but I should surmise that frugality was among his virtues, whether he would or no.