always uses those worst who love her best, Mrs. Herbert excepted; but I
hear she has done handsomely by her. I cannot help doing the woman this
justice, that she can now and then distinguish merit.

"So much for her Grace; now for yourself, John. I desire you will mind
the main chance, and be in town in time enough to let the opera[21] have
play enough for its life, and for your pockets. Your head is your best
friend; it could clothe, lodge and wash you, but you neglect it, and
follow that false friend, your heart, which is such a foolish, tender
thing that it makes others despise your head that have not half so good
a one upon their own shoulders. In short, John, you may be a snail or a
silk-worm, but by my consent you shall never be a _hare_ again.

"We go to town next week. Try your interest and bring the duchess up by
the birthday. I did not think to have named her any more in this letter.
I find I am a little foolish about her; don't you be a great deal so,
for if _she_ will not come, do you come without her."

* * * * *

Gay was not the man to keep his feelings of disappointment to himself,
and his feelings were so widely known that at the time the following
copy of verses was handed about in manuscript [22]:--

A mother who vast pleasure finds,
In forming of the children's minds;
In midst of whom with vast delight,
She passes many a winter's night;
Mingles in every play to find,
What bias nature gives her mind;