brilliancy of his thoughts, and the force of his expression. Quin
is a real voluptuary in the articles of eating and drinking; and
so confirmed an epicure, in the common acceptation of the term,
that he cannot put up with ordinary fare. This is a point of such
importance with him, that he always takes upon himself the charge
of catering; and a man admitted to his mess, is always sure of
eating delicate victuals, and drinking excellent wine -- He owns
himself addicted to the delights of the stomach, and often jokes
upon his own sensuality; but there is nothing selfish in this
appetite -- He finds that good chear unites good company,
exhilerates the spirits, opens the heart, banishes all restraint
from conversation, and promotes the happiest purposes of social
life. But Mr James Quin is not a subject to be discussed in the
compass of one letter; I shall therefore, at present, leave him
to his repose, and call another of a very different complexion.

You desire to have further acquaintance with the person of our
aunt, and promise yourself much entertainment from her connexion
with Sir Ulic Mackilligut: but in this hope you are baulked
already; that connexion is dissolved. The Irish baronet is an old
hound, that, finding her carrion, has quitted the scent -- I have
already told you, that Mrs Tabitha Bramble is a maiden of forty-five.
In her person, she is tall, raw-boned, aukward, flat-chested,
and stooping; her complexion is sallow and freckled; her
eyes are not grey, but greenish, like those of a cat, and
generally inflamed; her hair is of a sandy, or rather dusty hue;
her forehead low; her nose long, sharp, and, towards the
extremity, always red in cool weather; her lips skinny, her mouth
extensive, her teeth straggling and loose, of various colours and
conformation; and her long neck shrivelled into a thousand