these many years, upon a book of maps, which I now begin to find too low and too flat, though till I expected a better desk, I found no fault with them.  See and observe how true it is, that by increasing the number of our conveniences, we multiply our wants exactly in the same proportion! neither can I at all doubt that if you were to tell me that all the men in London of any fashion at all, wore black velvet shoes with white roses, and should also tell me that you would send me such, I should dance with impatience till they arrived.  Not because I care one farthing of what materials my shoes are made, but because any shoes of your sending would interest me from head to foot.

Thursday Evening.

Oh that this letter had wings, that it might fly to tell you that my desk, the most elegant, the compactest, the most commodious desk in the world, and of all the desks that ever were or ever shall be, the desk that I love the most, is safe arrived.  Nay, my dear, it was actually at Sherrington, when the wagoner’s wife (for the man himself was not at home) croaked out her abominable No! yet she examined the bill of lading, but either did it so carelessly, or as poor Dick Madan used to say, with such an ignorant eye, that my name escaped her.  My precious Cousin, you have bestowed too much upon me.  I have nothing to render you in return, but the affectionate feelings of a heart most truly sensible of your kindness.  How pleasant it is to write upon such a green bank!  I am sorry that I have so nearly reached the end of my paper.  I have now however only room to say that Mrs. Unwin is delighted with her box, and bids me do more than thank you for it.  What can I do more at this distance but say that she loves you heartily, and that so do I?  The pocket-book is also the completest that I ever saw, and the watch-chain the most brilliant.

Adieu for a little while.  Now for Homer.

N.B.—­I generally write the day before the post sets out, which is the thing that puzzles you.  I do it that I may secure time for the purpose, and may not be hurried.  On this very day twenty-two years ago I left London.

TO THE SAME

Anticipations of a visit

Olney, 9 Feb. 1786.

MY DEAREST COUSIN,

I have been impatient to tell you that I am impatient to see you again.  Mrs. Unwin partakes with me in all my feelings upon this subject, and longs also to see you.  I should have told you so by the last post, but have been so completely occupied by this tormenting specimen, that it was impossible to do it.  I sent the General a letter on Monday that should distress and alarm him; I sent him another yesterday, that will, I hope, quiet him again.  Johnson has apologized very civilly for the multitude of his friend’s strictures; and his friend has promised to confine himself in future to a comparison