"Squire B----n rose with deep intent, And notify'd to Parliament That I, it was a shame and sin, When others were shut out, got in; Asserting in his wise oration, I glory'd in my situation. I own my features might betray Peculiar joy I felt that day. I glory when my mind is feasted With dainties it has seldom tasted; When reason chooses Fox's tongue, To be more rapid, clear, and strong; When from his classic urn Burke pours A copious stream through banks of flowers; When Barré stern, with accents deep, Calls up Lord North, and murders sleep; And if his Lordship rise to speak, Then wit and argument awake: When Rigby speaks, and all may hear him, Who can withstand, _ridendo verum_? When Thurlow's words attention bind, The spell's of a superior mind. Now, whether I were Whig or Tory, This was a time for me to glory; My glory farther still extends, For most of these I call my friends: But if, Squire B----n, you were hurt, To see me, as you thought, so pert, You might have punish'd my transgression, And damp'd the ardour of expression. A brute there is whose voice confounds, And frights all others with strange sounds; Had you, your matchless pow'rs displaying, Like him, Squire B----n, set a-braying, I should have lost all exultation, Nor gloried in my situation." [Illustration: THE FOX-UNDER-THE-HILL.] The strong bond of friendship which existed between Hannah More and Mr and Mrs Garrick is one of the most remarkable events in the history of literature and the stage. On the one side, there was unbounded admiration for the great actor; on the other, Garrick and his wife evidently held the young writer in the highest esteem. The letters written, and received by, Hannah More, from the time of her first meeting with Garrick, until the death of his widow, form a charming note in the lives of these three people. They bridge over the years 1776 to 1822. In the former year, it should be borne in mind, the actor was nearly sixty years old, his wife a little younger, while Hannah More was but thirty-one years of age. The affection of the elderly couple for their young protégée is remarkable, and, curiously enough, the career of the latter began with Garrick's leaving the stage. On June 10, 1776, Hannah More writes to David Garrick: "I think, by the time this reaches you, I may congratulate you on the end of your labours and the completion of your fame--a fame which has had no parallel, and will have no end. Yet whatever reputation the world may ascribe to you, I, who have had the happy privilege of knowing you intimately, shall always think you derived your greatest glory from the temperance with which you enjoyed it and the true greatness of mind with which you lay it down. Surely, to have suppressed your talents in the moment of your highest capacity for exercising them, does as much honour to your heart as the exertion itself did to your dramatic character; but I cannot trust myself with this subject, because I am