teazing mortal.” His features are still small and regular, and his complexion, naturally fair, is thought less delicate than in the days of his youth, still good; his teeth are white and even, and have suffered nothing from neglect. But either from a scurvy trick of nature, or from his neglect of fasting (I say nothing of praying), he is become so corpulent, that were one to encounter him on all fours, instead of the two limbs destined to support him, one would take him for a tortoise; you well know that I am no enemy to _en bon point_; whenever I see it with a cheerful countenance, I regard it as indicative of a contented mind: but unhappily, Mr. Snughead’s opinions are diametrically the reverse of mine. He lives in open and perpetual war with this incroacher on the sympathy and elegance of his person; and by the cruelties he hourly inflicts on himself, suffers a martyrdom, from which even the mortified Pascal would have shrunk; for I think it may be presumed, that by not eating his soup Pascal’s penetential girdle was bearable; but poor Mr. Snughead cannot be at his ease either full or fasting. He imitates in barbarity the fell Procrastes, for his cloaths are made by a measure that has never been enlarged since the day of his gentility, and his unfortunate person, like the victim to the iron couch, is doomed to suffer under ligatures as painful as the rack. He seems momentarily in danger of suffocation, and I could not, without pity, hear him so often complain of the “melting weather,” nor view unmoved his hand instinctively raised to his cravat in order to relieve his respiration. But Mr. Snughead’s stoical firmness consoled me, and I next examined his dress. But what pen, my Lucy, can do justice to the elaborate neatness of this canonical beau! Who can describe the glossy black robes, the polished shoes, the dazzling whiteness and texture of his linen! In what language shall I convey to your imagination the honours of his head, his tight, perfumed, well-powdered curls! I despair, you must even fancy perfection. The frequent application of a well-scented, delicate cambric handkerchief to his face, gave me an opportunity of discovering that it was not his tight lacing which had impelled his hand to his throat, but the desire of exhibiting this precious relic of former beauty; for although somewhat in shape dropsical, it yet retains its whiteness, and is properly distinguished by a sumptuous amethyst ring encircled with brilliants. I was diverted from further observation, by his abruptly addressing me with, “Well, my pretty young lady, what say you to our north roads? Is not this a very pleasant one? What do you think of that prospect in view?” I coldly replied, that the village looked pleasant; and turning to Miss Flint asked the name of it. She mentioned it, and observed to Mr. Snughead, that _Greenwood’s_ plantations were flourishing. This person was, I discovered, the clergyman of the parish