paratively slow, and when I read aloud, which I frequently do between tea and supper, for half an hour, I constantly make stops where the printer never intended them. My song and my guitar would be, what you call them, a treat to my father; but they are not in my power to bestow. Among the ravages time has committed, he has carried away all my upper front teeth, which I am very angry at him for, as it destroys the beauty and in great part the usefulness of my mouth. It is an inconvenience which must be felt to be known." Miss Hutton in the same letter goes on to speak of her father. She says:-" My father rises at seven, dresses with difficulty. He takes his hat and gloves, and now his stick, and bending and almost tottering under the weight of eighty-eight years, he walks to Birmingham. About four o'clock I see him coming up the road with a short step. He is generally a little fatigued; sometimes very much. After emptying his pockets of newspapers and play bills, and sometimes of money, if there is a little sunshine left, he reads, which is now a work of great difficulty in a good light, and by an indifferent one, or by candle light, impossible. When he cannot see to read, he drops into a quiet sleep for half an hour, and awakes very much refreshed. My brother drinks tea with us, and while he is here there is generally some conversation; but neither my father nor I have strength or spirits to make talk, but we have the satisfaction of being near each other. On the 27th of October my father walked ten miles, and last Sunday he walked twelve. He has neither sickness nor pain, except sometimes rheumatism in his back. He is fat, eats well, and

sleeps tolerably, and is never out of humour. His increase in bulk at his age is very surprising. I know by experience that it is very unpleasant to become heavier as one's strength becomes less, and I see by him that age has much to suffer, even without pain.

"CATHERINE HUTTON."

From Miss Hutton to Miss M. A. Coltman.

"Bennett's Hill, nr. Birmingham,

"My dear Friend,—

“July 26, 1812.

The bookseller in London having returned the first volume of 'Oakwood Hall' [one of Miss Hutton's novels], which is already printed, I send it for your and Mrs. Heyrick's perusal-happy that I can so far gratify your curiosity-but it is on the following conditions: That you do not shew, or speak of it to any living soul; that you take great care of it; and that you return it by Miss Gibbins at Christmas.

"I am frightened at your expenditure exceeding your income. Think, my dear friend; you have trusted to the opinions of others, rather than your own ; what would your mother have said upon such a subject? Your mother, who practised economy as the first of the virtues, and whose family owe their present independence to it! But you need not think of your mother; your own reflection will be sufficient. I know it was in a good cause; both medicines and change of air were necessary for you; but do not spend an avoidable sixpence till you have got it up again. Pray what has become of the money Mrs. Heyrick laid out

at Bow Bridge? Love to her, and may she meditate on the word economy as well as her sister. Accept all our affectionate regards, and believe me,

"I mentioned to Mrs. Heyrick that I had completed a second novel, which I called the 'Miser Married.' In the sixteen days I was in London, Messrs. Longman and Co. received it at my hands; put it into those of a literary friend, who read and approved it; agreed with me on the terms of publication, and got it printed. I corrected all the proof sheets during my stay, except the two last of the second volume, in which I observe two blunders.

"All this business, together with the incessant conversation of a boarding-house, has proved too much for me. I was very unwell in London, and worse on my journey home; I fear I shall not soon recover it. My 'Miser' kisses your hands I beg you will receive him as a token of my long and sincere friendship for you. I have brought down the second volume of 'Oakwood Hall;' but I think it a pity to send it, as I have not the third, and cannot have it till next year. All secrecy on that subject is now at an end, as I have been obliged to put my name in the title-page of my 'Miser Married.' The horror I feel at publicly owning

my compositions is extreme. I have one comfort, however, and that only could have induced me to comply. I do not see the world, and cannot hear it. I shall only be made acquainted with its opinions at second hand. Love to Mrs. Heyrick.

"Yours very sincerely,

"CATHERINE HUTTON."

From Miss Hutton to Miss M. A. Coltman, who was staying at Green Gate, Bridgend, Glamorganshire. The postage of this letter is marked tenpence.

"My dear Ann,

"Bennett's Hill, nr. Birmingham, "Oct. 3, 1813.

"Malvern has put me into one of my best fits, and I shall be most happy to see you. Come when it suits you, and without notice, and I will order a pudding in the oven for you immediately [M. A. Coltman was a vegetarian].

"And so, my dear Anne, you are not happy in Wales! Be assured that happiness is neither in Wales nor in England, on mountains or on plains. It is independent of situation, except so far as situation influences health. It is in the mind. I could not fancy myself happy in a close, dark room; but, give me light and good air, and perch me on a mountain, or place me in a level road; give me a dirty cottage (so I had a broom in my hand), or a mansion in a park; and I would be happy, in spite of local circumstances. I own I heard with astonishment that you had pitched upon Chepstow Castle as a place to be happy in. Accommodating as my mind is to situation, I almost shuddered at the thoughts of it as a residence. Perhaps

this may in part be owing to an association of ideas unknown to you. I found it inhabited by an unfortunate maniac.

"I have seen Bridgend, though I have not been at it, having travelled from Pyle to Cowbridge. It overlooks the upper end of a most luxuriant vale, beginning at the ruined monastery of Ewenny, just below, and continuing to Cardiff. It is not romantic; but it is beautiful and highly cultivated. Its boundaries are neither rocks nor mountains; but on your side the hills bear a near relation to mountains, and on the opposite they are fertile and well inhabited. You should by all means go to Cowbridge, and from thence to Cardiff. The country and the views are divine-if anything earthly can be termed so; and the white cottages, with their creeping woodbines, are truly picturesque without, however dirty they may be within. There is a stage coach, if not two, that passes you from Swansea, and, I believe, would set you down at Gloucester, from whence there are coaches to Birmingham every day. I mention this if you are coming home alone, and do not choose the expense of a post-chaise.

"My route last year was Worcester, Bromyard, Leominster, The Hay, Brecon, Neath, Swansea; Neath, Pyle, Cowbridge, Cardiff, Newport, Chepstow, Nuneham, Gloucester, Tewkesbury, and Worcester again. But, my dear Ann, now you are settled in a cottage: if Miss Ann Lakin is not yet returning, and if you can find health, and some degree of comfort, make shift without happiness, and leave a little more of your 'cambric paper' in Glamorganshire. Of this, however, you must judge for yourself.