I send you the “Emma” for Mrs. Inchbald, supposing you have not altered your mind.
Bring Holcroft’s remarks with you, and Ben Jonson.
Jan. 27, 1797.
I am not well this morning. It is very tormenting to be thus, neither sick nor well, especially as you scarcely imagine me indisposed.
Women are certainly great fools; but nature made them so. I have not time or paper, else I could draw an inference, not very illustrative of your chance-medley system. But I spare the moth-like opinion; there is room enough in the world, etc.
Feb. 3, 1797.
Friday morning.—Mrs. Inchbald was gone into the city to dinner, so I had to measure back my steps.
To-day I find myself better, and, as the weather is fine, mean to call on Dr. Fordyce. I shall leave home about two o’clock. I tell you so, lest you should call after that hour. I do not think of visiting you in my way, because I seem inclined to be industrious. I believe I feel affectionate to you in proportion as I am in spirits; still I must not dally with you, when I can do anything else. There is a civil speech for you to chew.
Feb. 22, 1797.
Everina’s [her sister was at this time staying with her] cold is still so bad, that unless pique urges her, she will not go out to-day. For to-morrow I think I may venture to promise. I will call, if possible, this morning. I know I must come before half after one; but if you hear nothing more from me, you had better come to my house this evening.