whether giving or receiving, the glory must be their's.

I fancy Mr. Smith will not be here 'till to morrow, his Lady having
wrote me, he intended spending the evening with an acquaintance of his
about six miles from the Abbey.

How I dread the hour of parting!--Poor Mr. Watson!--I fear I shall never
see _him_ more.--Mr. Morgan _too!_ but he is likely to live many
years.--There is something in this strange man excessively engaging.--If
people have roughness, better to appear in the voice, in the air and
dress, than in the heart: a want of softness _there_, I never can
dispense with.--What is a graceful form, what are numberless
accomplishments, without humanity? I love, I revere, the honest, plain,
well-meaning Mr. Morgan.

Hark! I hear the trampling of horses.--Mr. Jenkings is certainly
return'd.--I hasten down to be the first who shall inform him of my
departure.

How am I mortified to see Aaron return without his master!--Whilst Mrs.
Jenkings was busied in enquiries after the health of her good man, I was
all impatience for the contents of a letter she held in her hand,
unopen'd: having broke the seal, and run her eye hastily over it, she
gave it me.--I think my recollection will serve to send it verbatim to
your Ladyship.


Mr. JENKINGS to Mrs. JENKINGS.

"My Dear,