Spain,” and I am reading a Society octavo, an “Essay on the Military Police and Institutions of the British Empire,” by Capt.  Pasley of the Engineers, a book which I protested against at first, but which upon trial I find delightfully written and highly entertaining.  I am as much in love with the author as I ever was with Clarkson or Buchanan, or even the two Mr. Smiths of the city.  The first soldier I ever sighed for; but he does write with extraordinary force and spirit.  Yesterday, moreover, brought us “Mrs. Grant’s Letters,” with Mr. White’s compliments; but I have disposed of them, compliments and all, to Miss P., and amongst so many readers or retainers of books as we have in Chawton, I dare say there will be no difficulty in getting rid of them for another fortnight, if necessary.  I have disposed of Mrs. Grant for the second fortnight to Mrs. —–.  It can make no difference to her which of the twenty-six fortnights in the year the 3 vols. lie on her table.  I have been applied to for information as to the oath taken in former times of Bell, Book, and Candle, but have none to give.  Perhaps you may be able to learn something of its origin where you now are.  Ladies who read those enormous great stupid thick quarto volumes which one always sees in the breakfast parlour there must be acquainted with everything in the world.  I detest a quarto.  Capt.  Pasley’s book is too good for their society.  They will not understand a man who condenses his thoughts into an octavo.  I have learned from Sir J. Carr that there is no Government House at Gibraltar.  I must alter it to the Commissioner’s.’

The following letter belongs to the same year, but treats of a different subject.  It describes a journey from Chawton to London, in her brother’s curricle, and shows how much could be seen and enjoyed in course of a long summer’s day by leisurely travelling amongst scenery which the traveller in an express train now rushes through in little more than an hour, but scarcely sees at all:—­

   ’Sloane Street, Thursday, May 20 (1813).

   ’MY DEAR CASSANDRA,

’Before I say anything else, I claim a paper full of halfpence on the drawing-room mantel-piece; I put them there myself, and forgot to bring them with me.  I cannot say that I have yet been in any distress for money, but I chuse to have my due, as well as the Devil.  How lucky we were in our weather yesterday!  This wet morning makes one more sensible of it.  We had no rain of any consequence.  The head of the curricle was put half up three or four times, but our share of the showers was very trifling, though they seemed to be heavy all round us, when we were on the Hog’s-back, and I fancied it might then be raining so hard at Chawton as to make you feel for us much more than we deserved.  Three hours and a quarter took us to Guildford, where we staid barely two hours, and had only just time enough for all we had to do there; that is, eating a long