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wrinkled, wan creature, who is so far right to disregard the world, that the world totally disregards her; an antiquated scold, who affects to be learned, pretends to examine the canonical books, lends her assistance towards the new reformation, moral and critical, of the Christian religion, and shrugs up her shoulders at the mention of Lavater's enthusiasm. Her health is destroyed, and hinders her from having any enjoyment here below. Such a being only. could have cut down my walnut-trees. No, I cannot get over it. Would you hear her reasons? the leaves which fell from them made the Vol. II. F court court wet and dirty; the trees obstructed the light * little boys threw stones at the nuts, and the noise affected her nerves, and disturbed her profound meditations when she was weighing in the balance Kennicott, Semler, and Michaelis. When I found that all the parish was displeased, and particularly the old people, I asked them why they suffered it?—' Ah! Sir,*' they said, "when the steward orders,* what can we poor peasants do?" However one thing has happened very well ; the steward and the vicar (who for once thought to reap some advantage from the caprices of his

.wife) ■wife^ intended to divide the trees between them. The revenue-office being informed of it, took posieffion of the trees, and sold them to the best bidder, There they still lie on th£ ground. Oh! if I was a sovereign prince, how I would deal with the vicar, the steward, and the revenueoffice !—But if I was a prince, what stiould I care for the trees that grew in my country?

L E T T E R LX.

October 10. /AN LY to look at her dark eyes,

*-^ is to me happiness. What

grieves me is, that Albert does not

F 2 seem seem so happy as he expected to be— as I should have been.—If—I don't much love suspensions -, but here I cannot express myself any otherwise. —Heavens! and am I not explicit enough?

LETTER LXI.

October 12. /*"\ SSI AN has taken the place ^-" of Homer in'my heart and imagination. To what a world does the illustrious bard carry me! To wander in heaths and wilds, surrounded by impetuous whirlwinds, in which, by the feeble light of the moon, we discover the spirits of our ancestors ;—to hear from the top of the mountains, amidst the roaring of the waters, their plaintive sounds issuing from deep caverns, and the sorrowful lamentations of a maiden who sighs and dies on the mossy tomb of the warrior by whom Ihe was adored! I meet this bard with silver hair; he wanders in the valley, he seeks the footsteps of his fathers. Alas! he finds only their tombs! Then contemplating the pale moon as she sinks beneath the waves of the foaming sea, the memory of time past strikes the mind F 3 of

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