CHAPTEE IV. 



To the Rev. B. Churton. 



Seleburne, Jan. 4, 1783. 



Dear Sir, — Your long and communicative letter of Dec. 16th 

 gave me much satisfaction. After you went away my family 

 became very large for the rest of the summer. I had with me 

 my brother Thomas White, and daughter and two sons, my 

 sister Barker from Kutland and her two youngest daughters, 

 and at times my nephew J. White son of Mrs. J. White, who 

 is just settled at Salisbury as a surgeon, being invited by 

 some friends who seemed perswaded that there was an 

 opening. My nieces. Barkers, especially the eldest of the 

 two who is 22 years of age, have (I speak as a foolish uncle) 

 very fine fingers, and play elegantly on the harpsichord. 

 These maidens entertained us day after day with very lovely 

 lessons from Niccolai, Giordani, and several other modern 

 masters, in a very agreeable manner. But I find, as I grow 

 old, that music, though very sweet and engaging at the time, 

 yet occasions very unpleasing sensations afterwards. When 

 I hear fine lessons I am haunted with passages therefrom 

 night and day, and especially at first waking, which by their 

 importunity give me more pain than pleasure : airs and jigs 

 rush upon my imagination, and recur irresistably to my 

 memory at seasons, and even when I am desirous of thinking 

 of other matters. The following curious quotation strikes 



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