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some pounds of his own Mangel Wurzel seed, and I shall enclose some of it for thy acceptance. The time of sending off the parcel I hope to announce in the postscript.

I suppose this long letter has given thee a soporific for bed; but although it is a very desultory one, my desire is to evince how sincerely

I am

Thy assured Friend,

J. C. LETTSOM.

LETTER LXXXVI.

Sir M. MARTIN, Bart. to Dr. Lettsom.

Dear Sir, April 17, 1791. I had this day the satisfaction of the following proof of the excellence of Mangel Wurzel, in the presence of two of the best farmers in this neighbourhood, who are known to be no friends to novel practices. Their respectable characters make me proud to mention their names: Mr. Layton, late of Burnham Overy, now of North Creak; and Mr. John Wright, of Stanhoe. I kept eleven cows in my yard, from ten o'clock in the morning (when they had finished my turnip rooted cabbages) till four in the afternoon, and then turned them into a piece of fresh grass, of which there was plenty, and at the farther end of which I had

strewed promiscuously two wheel-barrows-full of Mangel Wurzel, and as many Ox-Noble Potatoes, which had both been kept in hollow trenches, of four feet wide, and covered with a little straw, and a considerable thickness of mould, piled to an edge like the roof of a house. The field is close to the public road at the end of this town; and I called in every person I knew who passed; who were all convinced of the decided preference the cows shewed to the Mangel Wurzel. They then went to the potatoes, and the grass last; which, till we saw it, every one of us would have wagered a hundred to one they would have taken first. I think I have at least a fortnight's store of this delicious food, and should there be more, I have proved, that by moving it into a barn, and covering it well with straw, I can keep it perfect for my swine, till those of this year will be fit for use. Had the season of this year been like the Spring of 1789, they would have been worth a great deal of money. As it is, I shall have my barley sown before many of my neighbours will have cleared their land of turnips, though they begged their friends to take them for nothing, after they had exhausted their land more than a crop of corn. If I should be forced to mow a few acres for hay more than I expected, it will at least create some manure for my farm.

Yours, &c.

M. MARTIN.

LETTER LXXXVII.

Dr. LETTSOM to Sir M. MARTIN, Bart.

Dear Sir Mordaunt,

London, May 27, 1791.

Although I am in debt for four letters now by me, I must answer the last I have received in the first place. Sir William Lee, Bart. who is a warm advocate of Mangel Wurzel, sent me lately some remarkably fine seed, part of which I now transmit; as it was a present, so I forward it to thee, with permission to demand thy own price, and to give the product to any charity or poor persons in your neighbourhood. I would previously advise, that thou take for thyself as much as may ensure a decent produce on thy four acres appropriated to Mangel Wurzel.

Yesterday we finally settled the monument of Mr. Howard, the visitor of Prisons, which is to be placed in St. Paul's; the statue and accompaniments are to be executed by Bacon in marble, for 1800 guineas. We have already raised £1000, and I do not doubt success in completing the whole amount.

Perhaps thou would observe by the newspapers the death of M. Frehouven, Baron Hugueton. He lived in a garret, and during his illness denied himself the use of a farthing candle and a nurse.

Mrs. Augè, with whom he lodged, paid for the first, and supplied herself the place of a nurse. I attended this patient, and thought him, at first, a poor man. I soon, however, learnt, that his income was £17,000 a year, and his annual expences £50. The prints say he died worth £400,000; but I have reason to think it is £100,000 more. He has left, for propagating the Gospel, £90,000; £40,000 to the Philanthropic Society; and £20,000 towards cleansing Dublin of vagrants. He had few relations, and those he would not see. What surprized me most, he died with the calmness of a Christian. A little before his illness he went to the Bank for his dividend on £300,000; but the clerk, not knowing him, refused to pay it, thinking that a man clothed in the habit of poverty, could not possess the property of a prince. I hope and believe he has remembered the Humane Society; but I do not yet know the particulars of his will.

To revert again to Howard's Monument: we had Mr. Whitbread, the brewer, at our committee, in the chair. He asked me what sum I wished him to subscribe: I answered £100; he replied, I consent to put down what you like, Dr. Lettsom.

It affords me singular pleasure that a gentleman of thy nice discernment approvest of my ideas of gradually liberating negro slaves. As to provision for the poor among them, no difficulty would result; but perhaps it would occupy too much space to enter now on the subject.

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I have never yet seen the paragraph respecting my son's oration at St. Paul's. He is thought by those who know him, one of the most accomplished youths in Europe. I think I can say, without bias, of any individual I ever yet knew, he possesses the most moral rectitude. He never offended me in his life. I never saw such inflexible rectitude. When an infant, as soon as he could speak, if at table he said he did not choose any thing more, whatever cakes or enticements came on table, he never changed his mind; and this without a single precept from me: for I never yet had occasion to give him advice, and wish myself I had half his stability, or his erudition. Sir Mordaunt will say, "I see the parent." But every body says the same. He is universally beloved-all the servants, the cats, the dogs, every thing loves him. Old men court his company-he can philosophize with them,-he can amuse the young,— correct the gay,—and fix society to propriety.

With respect to the poor laws, and the political fortunes of our governors, our opinions are in unison; at the same time the simple plan which thou once suggested to me, would annihilate the poor's rates in 60 years.

Thy sincere Friend,

J. C. LETTSOM.

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