XVI.


Venasso, Friday,
27th January 1794.

MY DEAR EM.

By having grumbled a little, I got a better post to-day; and have
killed two boars and a sow, all enormous. I have missed but two shot
since I came here; and, to be sure, when the post is good, it is noble
shooting! The rocks, and mountains, as wild as the boars.

The news you sent me, of poor Lord Pembroke, gave me a little twist;
but I have, for some time, perceived, that my friends, with whom I
spent my younger days, have been dropping around me.

Lord Pembroke's neck was very short, and his father died of an
apoplexy.

My study of antiquities, has kept me in constant thought of the
perpetual fluctuation of every thing. The whole art is, really, to
live all the _days_ of our life; and not, with anxious care, disturb
the sweetest hour that life affords--which is, the present! Admire
the Creator, and all his works, to us incomprehensible: and do all
the good you can upon earth; and take the chance of eternity, without