‘Norfolk Street: August 16, 1780.

‘My dear Sir,—You have an excellent physician, but I should be glad to know what right the patient has to become his own apothecary? The doctor’s prescription consists of such rare ingredients as require no common skill to discover and use, Cuivis in suâ arte. If it had been your inferior fate to wield the pestle instead of the ploughshare and the pen, I should subscribe to the judgment of the apothecary as fully as I do to the author’s genius and the farmer’s knowledge. “A friend who can enliven the dulness of the country.” Well said, doctor. Macbeth himself might take your advice, for there is little difference between a dull mind and “a mind diseased;” but my good friend has neither. His mistake, therefore, in making up your prescription, and shaking me up as the aforesaid ingredient, is of little consequence. To convince him, however, that he is mistaken—for I love to set your clever men right—I shall make my appearance, first in the county of Cambridge, and next in the county of Suffolk—or ere the amorous Phœbus shall have twice resorted to his evening assignation to take an oyster with Miss Thetis. By the bye, we have had very good [entertainment] in town for some days—though as to days I can only answer for one and a half; being no longer returned from a Western Tour, which I have had the pleasure and trouble of making—for everything is mixed, you know, pleasure and pain—rose and thorns—man and wife; I ask Mrs. Young ten thousand pardons.

‘I have had hopes sometimes of tempting Mrs. B. to a country excursion, and she has almost agreed to make it with me to Cambridge, where I wish to call for half a day, and perhaps longer, soon; the hopes of seeing her friends at Bradfield Hall are a strong inducement.

‘Believe me,

‘Very sincerely yours,

‘H. Boyd.’

‘August 17, 1780.

‘My good friend will be at least just in this instance, when he is in every other so partial to his friends; and you’ll believe that it is no small disappointment to me quod inclination, though the cause will probably be very advantageous, businessly speaking, that I am obliged to postpone my Suffolk trip. Observe I establish a credit by the term postpone, and I sincerely hope it will not be a long term. I have at present only another half minute to say fifty things. But not being able to think, speak, or write the fiftieth part as quick as certain persons of my acquaintance (my love to Mrs. Young), I must confine myself to one subject—which I have too much at heart to omit—the assuring you and her of my being very sincerely yours,

‘H. Boyd.’

‘September 2, 1780.