Thank my aunt and thank yourself for kind inquiries after _Letters for
Literary Ladies._ [Footnote: Published in 1795--an early plea in favour
of female education.] I am sorry to say they are not as well as can be
expected, nor are they likely to mend at present: when they are fit to
be seen--if that happy time ever arrives--their first visit shall be to
Black Castle. They are now disfigured by all manner of crooked marks of
papa's critical indignation, besides various abusive marginal notes,
which I would not have you see for half a crown sterling, nor my aunt
for a whole crown as pure as King Hiero's; with which crown I am sure
you are acquainted, and know how to weigh it as Honora did at eight
years old, though Mr. Day would not believe it. I think my mother is
better this evening, but she is so very cheerful when she has a moment's
respite, that it deceives us. She calls Lovell the Minute Philosopher at
this instant, because he is drawing with the assistance of a magnifying
glass with a universal joint in his mouth; so that one eye can see
through it while he draws a beautifully small drawing of the new front
of the house. I have just excited his envy even to clasping his hands in
distraction, by telling him of a man I met with in the middle of
Grainger's _Worthies of England_, who drew a mill, a miller, a bridge, a
man and horse going over the bridge with a sack of corn, all visible,
upon a surface that would just cover a sixpence.
_To_ MRS. RUXTON.