I reckon, we shall be warm in our cups, and shall not fail to pour forth, with renewed joy, grateful libations over the much-wished tidings of your prosperous progress towards your destination. We compute that yesterday brought you to the venerable aspect of alma mater (Cambridge): and that you are invested to-day with the toga virilis. Your race of manly virtue and useful knowledge is now begun, and may the favour of Heaven smile upon the noble career.

Little was really disappointed at not being in time to see you, a good mark for my young vivid friend. He is just as much compounded of the elements of air and fire as he was. A due proportion of terrestrial solidity will, I trust, come and make him perfect. How happy, my loved boy, is it, that your mamma and I can tell ourselves, there is at Cambridge one, without a beard," and all the elements so mixed in him, that Nature might stand up and say, This is a man." I now take leave for to-day, not meaning this for what James calls a regular letter, but a flying thought, that wings itself towards my absent William. Horses are ready, and all is birthday.

Bradshaw has shone this auspicious morning, in a very fine speech of congratulation, but I foresee his sun sets weeping in the lowly west;" that is, a fatal bowl of punch will, before night, quench this luminary of oratory. Adieu again, and again, sweet boy; and if you acquire health and strength every time I wish them to you, you will be a second Samson, and, what is more, will, I am sure, keep your hair.

Every good wish attends your kind fellowtraveller and chum, nor will he be forgot in our flowing bowl to-day.

POSTSCRIPT BY LADY CHATHAM.

If more could be said expressive of feelings, my dearest dear boy, I would add a letter to this epistle, but as it is composed, I will only sign to its expressive contents, your fond and loving mother,

HESTER CHATHAM.

THE EARL OF CHATHAM TO THE HON. W. PITT. Burton Pynsent, Oct. 30th, 1773.

WITH What ease of mind and joy of heart I write to my loved William, since Mr. Wilson's comfortable letter of Monday. I do not mean to address you as a sick man, I trust in Heaven that convalescent is the only title I am to give you in the ailing tribe, and that you are now enjoying the happy advantage of Dr. Glynn's acquaintance, as one of the cheerful and witty sons of Apollo, in his poetic, not his medical, attribute. But, though I indulge with inexpressible delight the thought of your returning health, I cannot help being a little in pain, lest you should make more haste than good speed to be well. Your mamma has been before me in suggesting that most useful proverb, reculer pour

mieux sauter, useful to all, but to the ardent, necessary. You may, indeed, my sweet boy, better than any one, practice this sage dictum, without any risk of being thrown out (as little James would say) in the chase of learning. All you want at present is quiet, with this, if your ardour αριστεύειν can be kept in, till you are stronger, you will make noise enough. How happy the task, my noble, amiable boy, to caution you only against pursuing too much all those liberal and praiseworthy things, to which less happy natures are perpetually to be spurred and driven; I will not tease you with too long a lecture in favour of inaction, and a competent stupidity, your two best tutors and companions at present. You have time to spare; consider there is but the Encyclopædia; and when you have mastered all that, what will remain? You will want, like Alexander, another world to conquer. Your mamma joins me in every word; and we know how much your affectionate mind can sacrifice to our earnest and tender wishes. Brothers and sisters are well, all feel about you, think and talk of you, as they ought. My affectionate remembrances go in great abundance to Mr. Wilson. Vive, vale, is the unceasing prayer of your truly loving father,

CHATHAM.

THE EARL OF CHATHAM TO THE HON. W. PITT. Hayes, Sunday, July 17, 1774.

NEED I tell my dear William that his letter, received this morning, diffused general joy here? To know that he is well and happy, and to be happy ourselves, is one and the same thing. I am glad that chambers, hall, and tufted robe, continue to please, and make no doubt that all the Nine, in their several departments of charming, will sue for your love with all their powers of enchantment. I know too well the danger of a new amour, or of a reviving passion, not to have some fears for your discretion. Give any of these alluring ladies the meeting by daylight, and in their turns; not becoming the slave of any one of them; nor be drawn into late hours by the temptation of their sweet converse. I rejoice that college is not yet evacuated of its learned garrison; and I hope the governor of this fortress of science, the master, or his admirable aides-decamp, the tutors, will not soon repair to their respective excursions. Dr. Brown, to whom I desire to present my best compliments, is very obliging in accommodating you with a stable. I hope with this aid Mr. Wilson's computation may not be out above one half, to bring it all near the mark. I conclude a horse's allowance at Cambridge is upon the scale of a sizer's commons. However it prove, I am glad to think you and he will find more convenience for riding at every spare hour that offers. Stucky will carry Mr. Wilson safely, and, I trust, not un

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pleasantly. The brothers of the turf may hold the solid contents of his shoulders and forehead somewhat cheap; but by Dan's leave, he is no uncreditable clerical steed. No news yet from Pitt. James is here the flower of school-boys. Your loving father,

CHATHAM.

THE EARL OF CHATHAM TO THE HON. W. PITT. Hayes, Sept. 2, 1774.

Gout

I WRITE, my dearest William, the post just going out, only to thank you for your most welcome letter, and for the affectionate anxiety you express for my situation, left behind in the hospital, when our flying camp removed to Stowe. has for the present subsided, and seems to intend deferring his favours till winter, if autumn will do its duty, and bless us with a course of steady weather; those days which Madame de Sevigné so beautifully paints, des jours filés d'or et de soie.

I have the pleasure to tell you, your mother and sisters returned perfectly well from Bucks, warm in praises of magnificent and princely Stowe, and full of due sentiments of the agreeable and kind reception they found there. No less than two dancings in the short time they passed there. One escape from a wasp's nest, which proved only an adventure to talk of, by the incomparable skill and presence of mind of Mr. Cotton, driving our girls in his carriage, with four very fine horses, and no postilion. They fell into an ambuscade of wasps, more fierce