hould be. "What I want in a letter," she once wrote, "is the
picture of my friend's mind, and the common course of his life. I want
to know what he is saying and doing; I want him to turn out the inside
of his heart to me, without disguise, without appearing better than he
is." We can therefore obtain a more lifelike portraiture by making
extracts from her correspondence than by attempting the task in any
other way.

Describing her feelings in associating with persons of rank and wit, she
says:--"I had yesterday the pleasure of dining in Hill Street, Berkeley
Square, at a certain Mrs. Montague's, a name not totally obscure. The
party consisted of herself, Mrs. Carter, Dr. Johnson, Solander, and
Matty, Mrs. Boscawen, Miss Reynolds, and Sir Joshua (the idol of every
company); some other persons of high rank and less wit, and your humble
servant,--a party that would not have disgraced the table of Laelius or
of Atticus. I felt myself a worm for the consequence which was given me,
by mixing me with such a society; but as I told Mrs. Boscawen, and with
great truth, I had an opportunity of making an experiment of my heart,
by which I learnt that I was not envious, for I certainly did not repine
at being the meanest person in company...Dr. Johnson asked me how I
liked the new tragedy of Braganza. I was afraid to speak before them
all, as I knew a diversity of opinion prevailed among the company:
however, as I thought it less evil to dissent from the opinion of a
fellow-creature than to tell a falsity, I ventured to give my
sentiments, and was satisfied with Johnson's answering, 'You are
right, madam.'"

Her conscience was uneasy from visiting the opera, and also from
attending Sunday parties, which were greatly in vogue.

She thus wrote on this subject:--

"London, 1775.
"'Bear me, some god, oh, quickly bear me hence,
To wholesome solitude, the nurse of--'

"'Sense' I was going to add, in the words of Pope, till I recollected
that _pence_ had a more appropriate meaning, and was as good a rhyme.
This apostrophe broke from me on coming from the opera, the first I ever
_did_, the last I trust I ever _shall_ go to. For what purpose has the
Lord of the universe made His creature man with a comprehensive mind?
Why make him a little lower than the angels? Why give him the faculty of
thinking, the powers of wit and memory; and, to crown all, an immortal
and never-dying spiri