184 LETTERS TO GIIiBERT WHITE 



backed him. I am just going to take a little Eide on my old 

 Galloway wth Mrs Mulso ; '^ with Mrs Mulso?" Yes, Sr, why 

 how shd her Children ride, if She does not teach them before 

 they are born ? it is ye way to have Life d Opinions. 

 I am, my dear Gil, Ever afiftely Your's, 



J. Mulso. 



Letter 110. 



Thornhill, 



Jan 6. 1764. 

 Dear Gil : 



Do not regret ye not having heard from me for some Time. 

 That Time has been spent in a Manner very disagreable, and 

 indeed I would not at this Time convey to you all my feelings. 

 Mrs Mulso has been unusually low & poorly ; Myself a Sufferer 

 wth all my Complaints ; & my little George is still struggling for 

 Life agst the Pain of cutting his Teeth faster than his Strength 

 will bear. 



Mrs Mulso is much better, & it has given me Confidence to 

 sit down to answer your last, which is very chearfull & gay. 

 You see what I say is true ; a little Bit of London now & then 

 is not a bad Ingredient in Life. One may sit in the Country 

 *till one's Ideas extend no farther than to Pigs & PuUen. Of late, 

 indeed, in our Part of ye World, & perhaps in Yours, the Storms 

 of "Wind have been so violent that my old Parsonage cracks again, 

 & they have raised in me some Notion of the Sensations given 

 to ye Character of Claudio in Measure for Measure, when he 

 fears 



— To be imprison'd in the viewless Winds, 

 And blown wth restless Violence round about 

 The pendent World 



for sure such Hurricanes, & Torrents of Air, such Eoarings of 

 waters, such Drifts of Bains & Hail, & such Battle of the 

 Elements, have not been known before in ye Memory of Man ; 

 & can only be well described by the Devils Persecution of our 

 Saviour in Paradise regained. 



This has confined Us within doors for many weeks, except 

 Sunday, & on several of them. I sit in my Study, & as I look 

 up to see the Hermitage over my Door, drawn by ye fair Hands 

 of ye quondam Nanny Culverton, I almost see the well-deplored 

 Stump, sung by Miss Gil White, I fancy, & no Lady.* 



I am glad You have got Mrs. Snooke wth You ; for I 

 remember that what wth snuffing the Candle, making up ye wood- 

 fire, & paring your Nails, you could seldom get thro' ye writing 



• "Kitty's farewell to the stump beneath the Hermitage ' ' ; verses written 

 in Miss Catharine Battle's album by Gilbert White. 



