up, but it is very difficult to keep Horror breathless with his mouth
wide open through three volumes.

Adieu, my dear Sophy: do not let my aunt forget me, for I love her very
much; and as for yourself, take care not to think too highly of Cousin
Maria, but see her faults with indulgence, and you will I think find her
a steady and affectionate friend.


_To_ MISS S. RUXTON.

FLEET STREET, LONDON,

_October 17, 1792._

I have been with Mrs. Charles Hoare a week, and before I left Clifton
had a budget in my head for a letter to you, which I really had not a
moment's time to write. I left them all very well, just going to leave
Ashton Bower, which I am not sorry for, though it has such a pretty
romantic name; it is not a fit Bower to live in in winter, it is so cold
and damp. They are going to Prince's Place again, and I daresay will fix
there for the winter, though my father has talked of Bath and Plymouth.

I find in half-rubbed-out notes in my pocket-book, "Sophy--Slave-ship:
Sophy--Rope-walk: Sophy--Marine acid: Sophy--Earthquake:
Sophy--Glasshouse," etc.: and I intended to tell you _a la longue_ of
these.

We went on board a slave-ship with my brother, and saw the dreadfully
small hole in which the poor slaves are stowed together, so that they