letter-writing practices
Patty is a little acquainted with
Mrs. Charles Wesley
, and says she is a very
worthy, respectable person, a perfect Gentlewoman, of good family and Education. She
has also
a daughter, a young Woman of considerable
parts and literature. When I knew a little of her some years ago indeed, she was
more of a Wit than a
Methodist, but I
really believe they are both excellent, deserving Women. Of their circumstances I
cannot speak so accurately, private fortune they certainly have none.
Father John, as he was called allowed them
£200 pr. An: during his Life, and we have heard that at his death he
desired the
Society to allow them £70 Pr.
Ann: This I believe is all they have. We think they live with the
two Sons who support themselves by Music, but were not
comfortable Sons to
their excellent father.
By
to day’s post I shall write to a friend to inform myself more exactly as to
their circumstances, certainly making no mention of you in the
business. Wesley’s
Society
I believe is very poor, his restrictions in the Article of dress &c having
always frightened away the rich and gay, where /as they/ cou’d now and then sneak
into
Whitefield’s, who seemed to have judged more
prudently in not acquiring any such outward and visible sign of conformity. –
Mrs. W
and all of you must have thought
me if not “rather a kind of imposter”, yet rather a kind of a brute not to have
written a word since we parted, so kind as you all were to me! But I know how
you are overdone with writing and I spare you every unnecessary
line. To speak the truth I have been a little worked
myself and
for the few last days
have been confined to my bed by one of my feverish colds; I am sitting up a
little to day but not in very good writing plight having a blister on my back as
broad as
little William’s face.
I wonder if I shall ever see that said little William? –
To thank you over-warmly for your feeling and affectionate letter
would be to imply that it was possible I coud have suspected your large
liberality and considerate kindness
.
I shall obey you by
dedicating
Mrs. Barnards
kind
legacy to the purchase of a post Chaise, and her Annuity to the maintaining
it
. I
hope I shall keep within the limits of your
allowance. Any two periods of the year it will be the same to me to receive it.
Christmas and Midsummer are my usual grand seasons, but if a Month or two or
three later will suit you better, I can manage as I shall have some money of my
own to take.
I believe I
shall have occasion to write to you soon on an opening for doing good at
Exeter where nothing has yet been done in any of the
Churches.
An
inflammation in my eyes making a part of my indisposition compells me to end
–
I write a few lines to thank you for your kind solicitude about me,
when you yourself were probably suffering so
much more.
Mrs. R. T.
confirms the
account of your very oppressive cold, Which I hope /will be removd by/
the blessing of God on this fine change in the
weather,
for it is now raining green pease and goosebery
Tarts: and our grass, which on Sunday was as brown as a Mat is now as green as an
Emerald.
I thank God my
fever has given way and I am again much better,
tho I had an ague fit the night
before last, as I generally have on every change of
weather.
I heartily rejoyce at
the improvd account of
Mr.
T.
Lady Waldegrave who spent a long day
here Yesterday (which prevented my
writing) thinks he looks tolerably. In addition to her
heavy sorrows,2 she is now involv’d in two or three /law/ suits which are
this moment trying at Our Assizes, and in which, as her Antagonist (her late
Steward) a friend of
Mr. Bere’s3
a deep
designing Man has made a party against her, I fear she will be cast. Every thing
however which relates to money is a trifle compared with her other causes of
sorrow.4
Charemile and
Lady
W.
&c tell me they never see or hear of
Mrs. W
– I am disgusted at her want of decency, to say
the least, in not concealing her satisfaction at quitting a place, so pleasant so
advantageous /so congenial/ to
her
husband
.7 The change must be an immense expence.
W. and I have had a good deal of intercourse a few weeks
ago about
Mr. T.’s
health – We agreed in thinking, that more relaxaxation [sic]
from business without travelling about, and renouncing the comforts and
accommodations of his
pleasant home, was the best thing
for him at this time of year.
I hope he does relax and
that you will soon if the Spring shoud ever begin, get to
Battersea for your sake especially. – Shoud
You see
Charemile will you tell tell her that
I will write to her on her kind proposal
soon, and that we are soon looking out for the Barrister
the Circuit being nearly over.8 I agree with you in wondering that your
agreeable Nephew coud overlook that agreeable girl and chuse
one so inferior both in mind and person.9 How can you read
Godwin by way of learning to do good? An avow’d Atheist?
An acquaintance of mine,
Miss Lee woud have
married him she said had he been only an Infidel, but he denied a first course.10
To
me his writings are the blackness of darkness. Hume by his elegance, and Voltaire
by
his wit and the charms of his style are seducing. But tell
Mr. T. if he reads it, not to let others read it, for I remember at
Xt Church
Miss Creswell and
Miss
Schim
were frightened at his reading Hume’s
Essays to
them11 They were not then so strong in Religion as they are since become.
Seriously I think Plays and Novels safe reading compared with books
of subtel sophistry and promiscuous reasoning – I dont mean that you may not pack
/up/ up good things in them. I have not yet read the C. O.12 but have
run over
Ingram13 which is very good, the second part I thought
leaned a
little more to Calvinism than I do, that is I thought it woud
give the C. O. a rather more Calvinistic Air than it has lately
assumed
I am glad the C. O. takes up the
Bp of Saint David’s Plan14 – I have been in constant correspondence
(when able) [wi]th [tear] this good Bp on the Subject ever [s]ince [tear] he planned
it. It is to raise the character morals, learning & piety of the Welch Clergy. I
hardly know so pressing a cause. There will unavoidably, to save his credit be mixd
with it a little too much
High Church but we must be glad to do something if we cannot do
all that is wanted. I subscribe and propose leaving a legacy to the St.
David’s Plan. The building a sort of Welch College was partly my Suggestion.
–
Most heartily have I sympathized, and still do sympathize with you,
under this tedious and trying attack of
Mr. T.
We talk of it almost continually, and having
heard nothing for some time, I was willing to flatter myself that he was getting
on, but a
letter from
Mr.
Babington
yesterday
does not give so favourable a
report of his progress as we had hoped. This induces me to write rather in a hurry to ask you to let one of the
young ones, send a line now and then till he is
better.
This is my first
letter since my visitation. – not but that I could write, for
my Sword Arm escaped the
fire.
But
thro’ the extreme and undeserved kindness of my friends, I suppose there have
been not much less than a hundred letters of inquiry to answer, and tho it sadly
overloads
P. who is not well and assisted by
S – yet I forbear writing to those to whom
I wishd that I might conscientiously say I had written to none – this has given
me a little time for my other business.
I have generally managed in the same way with
visitors, which I believe includes every creature /(visitible)/ within ten
Miles, so that having so good an excuse I have rather gained time than
lost.
I have heard twice lately from
Lady Olivia
but have not yet
written to her. The excursion to the Lakes seems to have
quite answered; tho it appears she found every thing in it, except that
rest which was the professed Object of the tour.
More on her Subject when I
have more time
If I sent you all the good wishes I am desired
to send, my paper would not hold them
I am very anxious about your own health which I fear must
suffer
.
I fear too that mind has
had a good deal to do with
Mr. T.
illness, or rather that previous feeling had disposed his body to
receive any illness more severely than might otherwise have been the
case
– I am so
hurried I know not what I write –
I am ashamed to have received such
a kind and interesting letter from you, tho’ I had not put myself in the way to deserve it, by my delaying to thank dear
Miss Sparrow for hers. I will account for my silence before I close. I must say that not any of your friends,
warm and numerous as they are, took a deeper interest in your feelings on your first
appearance in the world, after so long and sad a seclusion from it. And its being
the first entrée of your beloved daughter added not a little to that interest. I cordially
congratulate you both, your Ladyship on the end of your fatigue, and dearest Millicent
on her passing through the fiery ordeal unhurt, and because unhurt, therefore brighter
than she went in. I bless God that through his grace she is enabled to maintain such
a steady consistency of conduct under circumstances so peculiarly trying, especially
at her age. God has bestowed on her all that this world has to give, partly to shew
her that all is nothing, but as it is connected with eternity, as it furnishes her
with more and higher opportunities of glorifying her heavenly father, and enables
her to shew that the Christian religion is a reality; that divine grace operates on the practice as well as /on/ the heart and is the same glorious principle which directs in difficulties, sustains
in calamity, and sanctifies in prosperous circumstances.
I had proposed being beforehand with you, not as a specimen of rapidity and
punctuality, of which I am not likely hereafter to support the character but to
express my gratitude to you for
the sealed paper I found on my table, mixed however
with a little chiding at your /too/ large liberality. You will I trust
allow me to divide that portion of it intended to assist piety and literature in one
young and most deserving Collegian, into two or three – you will have /the/
pleasure hereafter of having contributed to advance learning and religion in these
promising characters.
Now for the reason why I did not write on Saturday –
Since you left us I have
had and still have, a most severe bilious attack which I am thankful waited your
departure before it appeared,
as
I should have been grieved to
have lost any of the little time in which I was within reach of enjoying your
Society.
I dont know whether I was most glad or sorry at receiving
your kind letter last
night, glad at hearing from you and that you were embarked in Bath-drinking, or
sorry that your letter was a substitute for your appearance, as we were not till
then without some faint hope of getting another peep of you.
The stings of my conscience get the better of all impediments to writing, and
while I am constantly
eating you at breakfast, and drinking you at dinner
I can no longer
rest under the load of ingratitude of not cordially thanking you for the
affectionate interest you take in my health by your kind present of
Arrow Root
*
– I must just observe by the way that it would have been more speedy as well as safe
had both been directed to me at
Mr. Adorns’s Wine Street Bristol.
I this moment receive your too kind letter, and tho it is late, and tho it is not
a
writing day,* and tho
I have been
so unusually ill the whole week
,
I could not sleep if I
did not send you a line. I cannot express the vexation the mortification, I feel
at your not having got
the book
from me.
* I
directed not
Hatchard, but
Cadell the Publisher
who is always the dispenser of presents because they are sent a few
days before publication to send one the very first hour to
Bruton Street – and you have not had it
– I should have ordered it to
Huntingdon
with the Bishop's but you my dearest Lady preferred your town House. Such a
thing ought not to vex me so much as it does. If you do not find it
in Bruton Street – which you will be charitable enough to tell me, I will order
Hatchard
/Cadell/ to send you the very first of the 2d. Edition,
which as the delay has been already so great will I hope put you in possession
of a more correct copy. Believe me, it is not that I overrate the Book, by
laying so much stress on this disappointment, but that I cannot bear the
suspicion of neglect, where both my affections, my esteem and my gratitude are
equally concerned.
I hope you got a letter from me
a few days ago; thanking you for the reviving Squish
[sic].
Of The books to which you allude I know nothing.
I will send to the Hotel. How can you be so good and kind? – I know
not what they are but I am sure they are a fresh instance of your unwearied
generous friendship
I have not allowed myself to read your letter to
the very end, but snatched up my pen to ease my mind. I will now finish it.
Being to day under the disqualifying dominion of
Calomel*, I can only write a hasty line on the principal
topics of your little /but/ kind letter.
As far
as two sickly human beings can venture to determine,
P. and I hope to appear to you at
Brampton Park by the
middle of May;
but
the precarious state of
my eldest
Sister
adds to our uncertainty, tho she is much
/better/
Your last joint kind & interesting letter was
so full of encouragement that we lived contentedly for a week on the good hopes
it held forth.
But we have just heard with the deepest concern that
things are not so promising. I cannot bear to tieze you or
Marianne
who has her hands full as well as yourself – but let one of
the younger children write constantly I would
not let any one write but myself tho’ my eyes are nearly
gone, but my own cannot tell you how tenderly I feel for
you, & how very very deeply we are interested in the cause of your anxious cares
God grant that your dear
excellent husband may be
speedily restored to your prayers, to my prayers to the prayers of the poor & of
the Church
How can
I write to you or how
can I forbear to write? I have however postponed it, well knowing that you want
no such consolations as I can suggest.
My sincere sympathy and my fervent prayers are all I have to
offer you. My grief is softened by the knowledge of many merciful circumstances;
one is that you are surrounded by so many enlightened and truly Christian
friends; another and the principal one, is the cheering report they all give of
the deeply submissive and resigned spirit with which you bow to this most trying
dispensation. In the midst of my sorrow
I bless God that he has
enabled you to give this evidence of your faith in him, and of the truth of
Christianity itself, which can afford such supports under such
trials
.
Still my dear friend, allow me to say I fear for
you – I do not fear that your resignation will diminish, or your fortitude forsake
you – I trust that the same divine grace will continue to support your
soul; but I fear for your body, I fear that the very
elevation of your feelings will be obtained,
at the price of
your health sinking under your Efforts
. I am afraid you will think me
but a worldly counsellor when I say, I wish you not too
much to restrain your tears, or to labour to suppress emotions which
Nature dictates and which grace does not forbid. Your life is now of increased
importance, your value to your dear children is doubled. The duties of two parents
instead of one are now devolved upon you. I know these sort of arguments are
frequently made use of to stop the signs and outward expressions of
grief, but I know the make of your mind so well that I employ them with a view to
induce you not to put a /too/ violent restraint on your natural sensibilities
fearing the pent up sorrow may prey more inwardly on the heart and the health.
Some kind friend near you has sent us a line every day, but
merely of sympathy and kindness, and to say how you were. Of our dear sainted
friend we know no particulars, those they will send us I doubt not
soon. For ourselves we shall long mourn; for
him if our imperfect vision could see things a[tear] they are, we
should do nothing but rejoy[ce] [tear]
He is gone to the
resting place of the just. His life has left us an example of rare purity, of
integrity seldom equalled, of consistent piety, of charity almost boundless. I
shall reckon it among my responsibilities of the day of general Account if I am
not the better for having so long and so intimately known him
.
I hope you are still enjoying the profitable and very pleasant Society
[deletion].
He cribbed me sadly in the
time he bestowed on us.
If he has not left you be so
good to tell him that I received his valuable present of
Fenclon.*It was indeed paying me
for my Bristol Stones with Jewels of the first water.
Pray tell him also
that I was afraid, that thro the well meant folly of stupid
Bulgin he had not receved [sic] a copy both for
himself and
Mr. Le Touche
, but have at last the satisfaction to find
that he did. I woud write to himself but from the fear that he has left you, and if
not this will save him the trouble of a letter I hope to see him again. The
loss of such friends as we have lost makes us cling still closer to those of the same
class who remain to us – I am ready to exclaim with
Wilberforce in his last letter – Who next Lord?
Tho I sent you a few days ago a longer letter than I write to any
body else, yet I thought you would wish to hear from me on a Subject so
interesting to you. The day after
Mr.
Hodson
got my letter he and
his pupil presented themselves in the morning and spent
the day here. With the latter I had only general intercourse, my chief
object with him being
to make myself as pleasant as my state of health
allowed
, and to remove any prejudice he might have entertained of
my being severe and dictatorial. While I sent him walking and talking with
young Gisborne, I took the Tutor into my room for a
couple of hours. I will as nearly as I can recollect, tell you our chief discourse.
His first endeavour has been /not/ to give him any disgust, but to gain his
affection. He finds him conformable and complying with his injunctions, but not in
habits of application, or much given to reading He is more anxious at first to bring
him to stated habits and a regular disposition of time than to force too much
reading upon him till he discovers more liking to it. At half past 8 he gives him,
I
think about a dozen verse of
the Greek Testament to study and meditate
upon alone. At Nine he sets him to construe those passages to him and after
they have discussed the Greek in a literary and grammatical point of view, he then
expounds them to him spiritually and Theologically: then their devotions and a
little walk before breakfast. I suggested that as he is inclined to sit over his
Meals that a short thing, a medium sort of reading such as a paper in
the
Rambler
* might be
well taken up. His Mornings are at present engaged with
Quintilion whom
they study /both/ separately and together. I ventured to give my opinion that as he
would fill a great station in the world, and was not much addicted to study it might
be well to endeavour to imbue his mind with general knowledge such as would
be useful in life, and to allure him to the perusal of history and Travels; to make
him learn a passage from
the Orations of Demosthenes or Cicero, in the
Greek & Latin and then to translate and recite them in English, and to labour
after a good manner of recitation. Mr.
H. told me, and Mr. S. himself told
my
Sisters
that they had spent their time in the most trifling manner at
Harrow, and that very little was required
of them there. In consequence Mr. H says his habits of conversation are too
frivolous, horses &c &c being the favorite theme. Before evening prayer Mr. H. reads and again expounds Scripture. This he
says is all the formal religious instruction he gives, for he /is/
afraid to weary him, but he tries to make their walks, their common reading
instructive. I insisted much on the necessity & importance of this, knowing it
is the best way to mix up instruction with the common pursuits of life. They
sometimes dine and drink tea out, but as it is in correct and pious company, I
thought it better for his youth than to be confin’d to a tete a téte always with his
Tutor. The latter likes his young friend who has yet given him not the
slightest cause of complaint.
I have not room to say a word in addition to the topic which was
my Object in writing
Adieu my dearest Lady
ever Yours
Conceiving that you will be glad to hear from time to time a word from me respecting
your Son,
I resolve to scribble a line, tho yesterday was a peculiarly bad day.
Mr. Sparrow
his Tutor and
Mr. Hensman
spent a long day here lately.
I took Mr. H. as usual into my room; we had a very long discussion, and I required an explicit
account of their goings on, which he very minutely gave me. I have the satisfaction
of reporting that every thing seems very promising; if the improvements are not rapid
they are at least progressive. At my request he has begun to attempt composition.
He reads
Watts’s Logic*and Mr. H. makes observations on their joint perusal both of that and whatever else they
read together. As the days lengthen he rises earlier which gives him more time for the
Greek Testament before breakfast. He is translating some passages from
Demosthenes* which will help to form his Style. I suggested that here after he should learn and
recite some fine passages in
Burke’s Speeches.*
He reads by himself more than he did, and I lent for that purpose
Plutarch’s Lives
;* and
Travels thro Germany
.* I have also presented sent him with
the Saint Paul of Barley Wood
,* which he has promised to read; I told him that being written by one who had the honour
to be his Mother’s friend, it might interest him more. Mr. H. says that tho he cannot say he sees as yet any decided piety, yet he has great pleasure in seeing that he [has] not the slightest prejudice
against religion or religious people. This is /a/ great point for ‘a
Harrow fellow’.* But what I rejoyced at as the most gratifying circumstance, was that he told me he
possessed great purity of mind. This is a blessed thing at an age when boys have commonly
their minds tainted.
May God’s blessing preserve it to him! I think
Clifton a very fortunate situation for him. I think now he is getting a step towards manhood
he would hardly endure the dullness & total want of society of an obscure Village,
where he woud probably be too solitary, or led into inferior company. Now at Clifton
their little social intercourse is entirely among religious, and well mannered people,
and his Sunday’s Instruction sound and good. It was Providential for poor distressed
Hensman to get Hudson to fill at once the Niche so fortunately vacated by
Cowan,* or he might have forced himself into it again at his return. There appears to subsist
a pleasant affection and confidence between the Tutor and Pupil and Hensman says the
latter has easy access to his house where he often calls, and where he will get nothing but good. I have said so
much about this interesting youth that I have left myself no room for other Subjects.
I was meditating a letter to you my dearest
Lady Olivia just as your very kind one reached me; and
ever since have been prevented by shoals of company succeding each other so quickly
as to leave no interval for any thing I liked. Alas! Alas! I did hope our summer would
not have begun so early.
I take most kindly and so does
Patty your very feeling enquiries.
She has had a very bad winter, her state is weak and I have had great apprehensions
on her subject. Her spirits are sometimes depressed which is inseparable from bile
and fever. I am however thankful to say that the last few days she is considerably
better, so that I hope, if it be the will of God, she may rally with the Summer. We
shall all I trust be better when we are blessed with a west wind.
You are very good to express so kind a wish to see us at
Brampton. Few things would give us more pleasure.
But I really think home is the only place for invalids, tho the sick in general seem to act on the direct contrary principle But there is
another reason – we have already refused some invitations, to travel with /some/ friends and to go to meet others. Among the latter dear
Mrs. H. Thornton
* wished us to join her at
Malvern in case she should be able to go. It was with reluctance I was obliged to say I feared
we should not be able to accomplish it; tho, her sad situation considered, if we did
any thing, it ought to be with a view of seeing her. Notwithstanding her Christian
exertions, every letter from her seems to wear a deeper shade of woe.
I will not lose time by sending this about to beg a Frank
As I am writing to the
Bishop of Saint David’s I would not lose
the occasion of telling you that he is ‘the pious, learned and laborious Prelate’* to
which you refer in
your very obliging
letter
. He treats the Subject more at large in a little work against
the Catholic Claims entitled
‘Christ the Rock and not Saint Peter’*. But
I must recommend a more recent publication of his Lordship’s with a view to the
Socinian* friend to whom Your
verses are addressed* – it is called
‘The Bible and nothing
but the Bible the Religion of the Church of England’
* addressed to the
Socinians. It is I think an able
refutation, and, (which I always think a good quality in Controversy) it is a
brief one.
Pray pardon this erasure. By mistake I write it
in your Letter, instead of the Bishop’s which lay open before
me.
Yes my dear friend I must write a few lines,
though doubtless you are oppressed with the kindness of friends whose sympathy
shares in your sorrows without being able to mitigate
them.
Truly do I mourn with you
over this second very deep wound
. Both are most mysterious – we must
adore now & we shall understand hereafter.
Mr. Stephen
&
Lord Teignmouth most feelingly communicated to me the last sad
intelligence. Written a fortnight ago!
Very pleasant were they in their
lives, &
in their death they were not divided I had looked
to dear Bowdler as one of the principal stays you had to lean upon, a counsellor
& comfort to yourself & a monitor & example to your
children.
But Gods Ways are not as our Ways. Poor dear
Mary
Gisborne
* may He comfort her – no one else can What an effort my dear
friend did you make to write me those few kind lines.
Mr. Melville
– Whom I take to be a son of
Lord Leven’s*, finished the letter in a way that has
made him Stand high in my opinion. It was written in a fine
spirit, &
will you thank him for me
It would give you a sort of sad consolation to see how every
one who writes to me expresses themselves on the Subject of your beloved
Husband. Sorrow
makes even
Lord Gambier eloquent.
Mr.
Dunn
who has been staying with us is always sublime
.
From men like these who could judge & feel his Merit one expected it but I was
pleased with an expression of the General feelings in more ordinary Men living in
the turmoil of trade which is apt to blunt the feelings, but whose Shop is crowded
with the first sort of Men. I mean my
bookseller,
Cadell, who writes thus ‘The death
of your distinguished friend has excited a sensation of grief, more general
& distressing than we remember to have witnessed’
This was said of the feelings of the world at large – my other letters being from
religious men. Said no more than was expected of them.
I am
truly anxious about your health. Grace may enable you to subdue your mind but I
fear Your body will not be so submissive.
Every time you look on your
sweet children, this duty will be pressed homeward to you – in a way you will not
be
able or willing to resist. I know not yet whether you have returned to
Clapham. The events of these last three Weeks form the
Chief Subject of our conversation. I think much of you – at a time when I hope you
are not thinking of yourself – in the dead of night – for my nights are in general
bad.
We have paid to our departed friend the tribute of
wearing mourning – it is nothing to the dead, but may testify to the living who
are about us, our reverence for exalted piety & virtue.
Though our
friends have been very kind, they are naturally so full of their own sorrows that
it
is some time since I have heard especially of you.
Will you let one
of the little ones Send a line to say ‘Mama is better or
worse’ Poor
Wilberforce he has lost a great part of himself – his right-hand in
all great & useful measures, heavily indeed will he go down to the
House of Commons without his ‘own peculiar friend’.*
Jebbs Sermons
* are beautifully attractive,
sweetly elegant and highly polished as to style, and exhibiting Religion in her most
amiable dress, and her most lovely lineaments, but certainly not abounding in the
prominent exhibition of certain important doctrines. They abound however with
invitations and incentives to holiness and from a pleasing transcript of his own
pure mind. They are, I think, best suited to those who have already made a progress
in religion as they by no means take in its grand scheme and scope.
I greatly love the Man, and was much disappointed that his sudden
recal on the death of his brother stopped him on his journey
hither.
* Pray see all the interesting
Society at
Bellevüe, especially
Mr. Knox
, but take especial care that your
ears do not run away with your heart, for he has a most fascinating eloquence. With
great mutual regard we disagree on some very momentous points. As a teacher of
holiness, and an inspirer of contempt for the world he has scarcely an equal. He is
a good deal of a Mystic. You see how openly I
write to you even respecting my real friends and favorites. I know my confidence
in you is not misplaced. Letters which are not written in that confidential
skein are not worth having, but the general habit would be
dangerous.
I have delayed writing from day to day till it should please our gracious father to
determine the fate of our beloved
Mrs. Thornton
.
That afflicting event has now taken place near a week, and yet I have not had the heart to write.* You doubtless have been informed by
the same kind hand with myself, of the fatal progress and final termination! God’s will be done! This
we must not only say but submissively assent to under dispensations the most trying.
And surely the removal of our dear friend is a very trying as well as Mysterious dispensation. To herself the charge is most blessed. To her children the loss is most irreparable.
Poor dear Orphans! little did we think a year ago of
this double bereavement! but let us bless the God and father of our Lord Jesus Christ that he enabled this
suffering friend to bear her dying testimony to his faithfulness and truth
. Never was a sweeter death than that so feelingly painted by Mr. Wilberforce How strong must have been that faith which not only lifted her so much
above all worldly considerations /but/ which enabled /her/ to commit her beloved children, about whom her anxiety had been so excessive, to
the father of the fatherless. It has pleased God to raise them, among many friends,
Mr. and
Mrs. Inglis
to whose care she consigned, and who have generously accepted the charge. They are
peculiarly fitted for the purpose, sensible, pious, amiable, strongly attached to
the Thorntons and without children of their own. Thus is the saying illustrated that
the Seed of the Righteous shall never be forsaken.*
My opinion is that Mrs. T is dead of suppressed grief.
She reminds me of part of an Epitaph I have seen, only changing the word day for Year
Your letter affords so little hope of the continuance of
her earthly existence that I
think there is more true kindness in writing to you, as are without any
expectation as to this world, than to labour to administer false
comfort; to do this would not be doing justice to your
strength of character and to the lessons of wisdom you have been so long imbibing.
Who knows but your obvious submission to the Divine hand which has inflicted these
heavy strokes may not help to confirm these principles of Christian piety
/with/ which
Mr
Penington’s
* mind seems penetrated.
God grant that the
convictions of this estimable Man may end in a sound conversion!
What
joy would this give, not only to the Angels in heaven but to the two happy Spirits
who may soon be united to that blessed Society. I do love this Penington. I cannot
say what a gratification it would be to me to be with you. It is for my own sake I
wish it, that I might learn how to die.
But my own infirm
health, and still more that of
Patty would make us a burthen instead of a
comfort.
With such comforts indeed you are far more
richly provided. I cordially rejoyce that you are inclosed with such a circle of
such friends, and that those amiable and excellent
Inglis’s are about to be added. My affectionate love to the patient
Sufferer. I am more disposed to ask comfort from her than to offer it
to her.
At length I have to thank you for
a most interesting nice long letter, written on
respectable whole sheets of Paper not crammed and
stuffed by scraps into corners hardly decypherable for want of space, but ample and
liberal as to paper, as well as delightful as to matter and manner. Whether this one
only symptom of good which your letters ever wanted be acquired by your writing from
the large-hearted and liberal minded country you now inhabit (for such I have always
conceived Ireland with all its faults to be) or whether your desire of increasing
my
pleasure has generously increased with your distance from me I shall not enquire: in
any case as I have the benefit so you have the praise –
I am sorry you saw so little of
Mrs. La Touche
I earnestly hope that visit
will be yet made; to say nothing of
her residence which I
wish to see of all places, she is herself very interesting, and a character of
inestimable value. (by the way) I am astonished at what you tell me of
Mr. Knox
, if there is any coolness it must be on
his part. I am sure it has not been on mine. We have not indeed
corresponded as largely as we used to do, but he himself has apologized for it, from
his other pursuits. My esteem for his virtues and admiration of his talents are
great and undiminished. We do not indeed think alike on certain religious points and
Mr. Jebb
(whom I also much love) had the candor to tell me that our
difference in this matter was the reason why
he did not write to thank me for
my
books
. but I did not know why this should make any coolness among
/Christian/ friends, I am sure it will make none in heaven, and I am
the last person who would lower my regard for a friend on account of their opinion
of my writings.
I shall hope to see both Knox and Jebb next Summer.
We have got a new Neighbour
Mr. C. Maude
a Son of
Lady
Haywarden
,* who is curate of
Blagdon,
Lady Lifford &c wrote
to recommend him strongly to me. He is but just three and twenty, very amiable with
much naiveté and good nature, takes advice kindly, and allows me to say any thing
to
him, and I try to give my opinions in a fine cheerful way not to frighten him. He
has of course much to learn, being but just escaped from
Christ
Church
;* he is very kind to the poor and already much liked by them,
he seems humble, has no high notions, but talks of his little self denials and
frugal management with much openness.
I let him come when he likes and hope to be in
some little degree useful to him as I know the people
. He is about to marry a
very young Girl, much will depend on her turn of Mind.
How have I run on. I never write long letters but to you. Indeed I seldom write at
all to my real and beloved friends. My whole time almost goes to strangers. I think
I have had no less than eight letters lately from
North America where a good spirit
of religion seems to prevail while
Virginia and
the Southern Provinces are as
profligate and irreligious as Paris itself.
When little
Louisa was up weeping last night
on receipt of
Mr. Wilberforce’s
letter, she
lifted up her hands and cried God bless dear little
Etta!
Truly happy shall we be to see you amp; Your Sister;* a ,
daughter of yours you cannot doubt will be affectionately received.* You
must come and spend a long day.
Mrs. Hyde
will have told you that my poor Sister
Betty,
who was before very infirm has been keeping her bed five Weeks with a
wound in her leg.
I hope in a week or two she may be better able to enjoy
seeing you. You will write and fix Your own day when it quite suits
You. Write a few days before hand, (as the post is not always exact) lest we should
any of us be from home, a circumstance however which rarely occurs.
When you write pray thank your dear
Mother for
her affectionate remembrance of a family who will always retain a great regard for
her.
I should have returned you to your native land before now, but that
I have been subject to
even more than my usual interruptions both from visitants and
correspondents
I truly rejoyce to find you have gained so much in health and spirits by
your short migration
That you are not worse in other
respects I am persuaded, tho I will not grant the same latitude to one quarter of
my
acquaintance who have made the same experiment. I hope therefore you will not fulfil
your menace of ‘persuading all your friends to go directly,’ indeed almost all mine
are gone, the very tradesmen of
Bristol, the very Curates in
our Neighbourhood are spending the Summer in
Paris. So you
see Volunteers need no pressing.
Your letter amused us much but really all
accounts from that city of sin make me laugh with the tears in ones
eyes.
I have just got a letter from Paris from an learned and pious
Clergyman. The following is an Extract – ‘A friend of mine attempted to get some
Subscriptions for Les’s Bible at a Table where he dined consisting of Frenchmen.
He met with some little success, tho it disclosed the character of some of his
acquaintance One Gentleman of wealth and intelligence on most subjects, gravely
enquired whither the
Bible was a new Political or religious work
which was to appear in numbers? Another confessed that altho originally intended
for a Priest, and living for several years in the house of a kinsman who
was a Priest he had never seen a Bible’!! – These two stories I
would not have credited on inferior authority.
It was so long since I had heard any thing of
you that it gave me particular pleasure to receive your letter, and to hear such
pleasant Accounts of yourself and friends. What a
delightful Society to have so many kind Aunts Uncles and Cousins within a ring
fence.
Mrs. D. Sykes
you know was
always a favourite with me. I know less of the others. You have drawn an interesting
portrait of
Miss Thompson.* She must be a fine
creature. I have answered her letter which is what I cannot always do.
The
keen Northern air* is I trust bracing your body, while so many affectionate
friends cheer your mind.
I too have suffered most truly for
Mr. Macaulay
,* and am
still not without anxiety for him.
Mrs.
M.
and
Selina we had invited to
spend a fortnight with /us,/ and
it did her good after the
fatigue of nursing her
poor Sister.
*
He met them half way back and by that
means confirmed his cold and cough into a fever.
I sent by
Mrs. M.
a certain pacquet of letters which are
waiting your return in a little box.
I did indeed mourn for
Mrs.
Stephen
.
Her afflicted
husband
wrote me a delightful character of her immediately on her
death.
Nor have I sustained a lighter loss in my beloved
Mrs. Hoare
of
Mitchem.
* The behaviour of
Mr. Hoare
7 is angelic.
Last night had me the report of the death of my sainted friend
Mr. Whalley
. He seemed to be the nearest
heaven of any man left on earth.
It is a dying world. I seem to dwell
among the tombs. Last night black gloves were brought for us for the death of our
oldest friends. we were play fellows in childhood. God has given me many warnings
and a long time for preparation may it not be in vain!
We have had many of your friends and
neighbours staying here one after another.
The two
Charles Grants
– I thought the
Senior remarkably well and I have a delightful long descriptive letter from him from the
Isle of Skie
[unclear].
Lord Calthorpe
his Sister and
Mr. Wilberforce
(dear Creature) spent three days with
us the week before last
he was pretty well for
him, all spirit, feeling & kindness as
usual
.
Lord C. has been at
Bath for his
health and is better,
I rather think the
Gisbornes are moving this way.
Young Elliot* spent the day
here yesterday
– he has good Sense, a correct taste and much piety
I am afraid you have thought me very
/un/kind, and indeed appearances are much against me. But besides the
overwhelming press of letters which always causes my answers to come slowly,
I have been for near a Month
very ill with a wearing fever, and am only beginning to recover a
little
; this has put me much in arrears both in business and
in friendship
You would, were you not candor itself, think me a strange Animal, not to have thanked
you, both for your kind letter and interest/ing/ present of books.
But in this seeming/ly/ quiet spot I can hardly give you an idea what a scanty commodity
time has been with me;
the continued bad state of my two Sisters
,
company very frequently, and
every interval filled with scribbling half penny and penny compositions
. Tho I would have you to know, I am now rising in dignity and importance, having
just finished (what I hope may be my last) a work that will be very costly three half pence, if not actually two pence,
The Death of Mr. Fantom the new Fashioned Reformist.* If not a very learned composition, I hope it may be of some little use.
Mr. Dunn
jilted us again, and put me off with a letter instead of a visit, his old practice;
but he knows that in whatever shape he appears he must always be acceptable.
I have had this Frank two days without finding a single quarter of an hour to write;
this morning I thought I had secured a little time when
unexpect /ed/ ly poor
Lady Southampton came to spend /a/ good part of the day
. She has had so many afflictions, (one sweet daughter has had a one leg cut off, and the other seems threatening the same calamity)* that one cannot but feel a particular interest for the Mother. She is entirely devoted
to religion, and lives in so profound a retirement that I am afraid it will not be
good for the young Lord who accompanied /her./ * I have been pleading for the young people, who being only children cannot be expected
to be quite so abstracted as she wishes. The eldest girl is very pious and to her, confinement is no hardship. I have run on this long to account for the very short
time /I shall have/ to desire you to thank
Mr. Obins
for his very kind letter, and to thank you my very dear Lady Olivia for your very
kind few lines; but I must request you not to think I am so unreasonable as to expect
even a single line from your own hand till your heart is more at ease.
The accounts from
Falmouth were not very encouraging. God grant the next may be more favourable! I long to know
the decision of the last consultation. I do not much like your being driven out again on the ocean in the tempestuous Season of the Equinox which
is approaching.
*
I am afraid too it is bad for your own health, which I must say is no inconsiderable
thing in the account current.
I gallop on hardly knowing what I write and without a minute to read it, but I cannot
bear to suffer another post to go out without a line. –
I have had several good books given me lately, among others
the life and Diary of Mrs. Graham
* an American which contains as much solid piety expressed in as eloquent strains as
I have often seen; for I am not in general fond of Diaries.
‘Cowpers’ letters’
You have read by this time, and are I trust as much pleased with them as I am.*
Chalmers Evidences
,*
White’s and
Beans Sermons
,* the two Preachers at Welbeck Chapel and two old friends of mine have been also sent
me /&
Blackmans Life
./ * I wish they could also send me time to read them.
Poor
Patty is still in very bad health. I am much troubled about her.
She joins me in every respectful and affectionate remembrance to your Ladyship, Mr. and Miss Sparrow and Mr. Obins. I do not trouble the latter with an answer because I write to You which is the same Pray tell him I think
Warner* a very trumpery fellow. He puts paragraphs from his worthless Sermon in the Bath
Paper every week, and sometimes writes them in verse in the hope of discrediting the
serious Clergy /, which he seems to have much at heart./ *
A thousand thanks for your very kind letter from
London.
I cannot but feel rejoyced whenever I see your hand writing and yet I rejoyce with
trembling, when I reflect what an expense of health and strength it may have been
to you. Great as the gratification is, I must beg you not to use your own hand when
you indulge me with any communication. I am sure you have those feeling friends about
you who would at once gladly save you the pain and give me the pleasure.
To dear
Mr. Obins
I am already much indebted on this head. I do love him.
I trust you will pardon my long delay in answering your kind letter. It has
arisen from a variety of causes; when I received it
I was very ill of a bilious
fever
,
my two
Sisters
were confined at the same time, and we had nobody living down stairs for near
three weeks
.
I am much
better
, but still an invalid, chiefly from want of sleep.
Patty has a complaint on her
chest, and constant fever, and is forbidden to talk
, and
poor
Sally is in a deplorable
condition. The dropsy is fallen on her legs which are much in the same condition
that
carried off my /last/
Sister
.
All this is depressing to my
Spirits I pray God to support them and me during the short remainder of our
pilgrimage.
If you see dear
Mrs. Kennicott
before I am able to write to her, give my [tear] to her and tell her that
sickness and all this writing, have made me neglect the My friends,
as far as outward attentions go, but I hope to mend my
ways.
Tho I have written so much to
your excellent companion, in answer to his kind letter, yet I cannot dispatch it without a few lines to yourself.
Accept my heartfelt sympathy and cordial prayers; poor as they are they are at all
times offered up for you and yours and especially at this hallowed and gracious Season;
may all the blessings it was meant to convey be yours, and those of your dear party,
even the blessings of redemption and the consolations of God’s Holy Spirit.
Oh that I had wings like a dove, that I might fly to take a peep at you in your Conventual
retreat, sleep in one of your Cells, and take a walk with you in the delicious Garden
at which Mr. Obins’s description makes my Mouth water.
Patty, who I thank God is not worse
, joins me in the warmest wishes for your health, peace and comfort.
May the Almighty be your guard your /guide,/ the strength of your heart and your portion for ever! How one feels the impotence of human friendship! to desire so much and to be able
to do so little, to do nothing!
I have delay’d answering dearest
Millicents excellent letter, from a daily expectation of this final event, else what delightful
matter /in her letter/ had I to write about! My dearest Lady you were Providentially sent to
Nice for the purpose of converting that valuable Roman
Catholic who I doubt not will be one of the many who will bless you in heaven either for temporal
or spiritual benefits. The frame of mind visible in your daughter’s letter is admirable.
For all our sakes, but especially for her sake, I exhort you, I beseech you take care of your health. There is yet a great
deal for you to do in this world You know not to how many souls you may be the instrument
of good. God has already honoured you in this /way/
My poor health must
plead my apology for my long silence; and a complaint in my eyes must excuse
the shortness of my letter. I cannot
however longer restrain the desire I have to send you my cordial congratulations on
the happy prospect of your dear
daughter’s union
with a
Man so every way worthy of her. Your
character of
Mr. Welby
is most
interesting; and pleases me so much that I am much disposed to be
Felicia’s rival and to fall in love with him myself. It
is indeed a serious blessing to unite her to a man who is likely to promote her
happiness in both /worlds/ and who will attend to her immortal interests as
well as to her present comfort. May God bless them!
Two mornings successively I have set aside for
answering your letter with one or two others,
but
from breakfast till now when the dinner is almost ready, I have had a number
of visitors one after another till I lost my patience as well as my
time
.
However tho I have lost a few minutes (for an inflammation in my
eyes prevents my doing any thing by candle light)
I snatch up
my pen, as perhaps you may be waiting for an answer respecting
Mr.
Coan, thus he spells his
name.* I am however not well qualified to give an opinion
as I do not know him at all. I believe him to be a very pious young /man/ of the
Calvinistic
School
. But he is an Irishman with all the warmth
and impetuosity of his country. I should be grieved to say any thing that might be
injurious to a deserving Man but it /is/ my private opinion that he would not be
well calculated for the temperate zone of
Clapham. He has got
himself into two or three little scrapes and tho I really am inclined to think
he was not the aggressor yet the habit of getting into scrapes
generally indicates the want of a cool temper. If
Clapham was
an obscure Village I should not have said a word of this, as few villages are
perhaps better supplied but he does not stay long in a place I observe. I should
/think him/ not fit for so enlightened –
Patty would say critical congregation as Clapham. Pray
present my best regards to
Mr. Daltry
*
and tell him I begin to fear I must wait till we meet in a better world before I
shall /enjoy/ that long indulged wish of making his acquaintance
I entertain better hopes as to seeing you and
your admirable friends
if it please God to spare me till the Summer I
beg my most affectionate respects to them and love to dear
Lucy who is to be of the
Barley
Wood
party.
Your extreme true kindness in
writing me so affectionate a letter,
when dear
Lucy was so ill
was gratifying to
me. I have now heard from
Mrs. Macaulay
that she is doing well,
but that
you are under some anxiety for the valuable health of
Mrs. Inglis
. This gives me great concern
which I am sure you will remove, if you can, by informing me that she is better. Her
life is so important not only to the more intimate companion of her joys and
sorrows, but to all
his adopted family that I
cannot think of any serious illness befalling her without taking the deepest
interest in it.
I have frequently lamented that one of the
worst effects of sickness or sorrow is, that it is apt to induce selfishness,
but on this occasion I have not realized my own idea.
I have received about a hundred letters full of
kindness and condolence, and many of them, of piety – but I have felt myself
utterly unable to answer them – You will be so kind as make this true apology to
any friends who may think themselves neglected.
My health has been very bad, and neither
body or mind has yet made much progress, the former I hope is most in fault, for
I bless God my mind is I trust unrepining and
submissive,
but it is still very weak. I am forbid by my
Doctor to see company, for which I am
thankful as
I have no heart to see any but two or
three particular friends in my own room – for talking brings back the
complaint in my chest.
Your excellent
Mr. Dealtry
kindly
promises to come to see me from
Bath
–
I hope it will not be
till I am much better, as I should be sorry to see him only for an
hour in my chamber which is all I can yet do.
It is grievous too
that
Lord and
Lady
Teignmouth
should be at
Clifton at this time –
It is many years that we both looked forward to seeing those dear
friends for a few days, and [deletion] now I can so little profit by their
neighbourhood is painful to me.
Thanks for your very kind and interesting
letter. We were all deeply affected with
Henry Venn and all the circumstances which accompanied
his introduction into his sacred Office.*
May he, in living and preaching
be the exact representative of his excellent
Father’s.
Such fathers as his and
yours have left a high Standard to which I trust it will
be the study and the delight of the children of both families to act up. It is a
great thing even where we cannot say we have altogether attained to be
always pressing forward. I doubt not I shall admire
Mr. Dealtry’s
Sermon* as I do every thing that comes from his pen, his head, and his
heart. I should be sorry if they had diluted it. I do not approve of that prudence
which is apt to put
‘trop d’eau dans le vins de
peres.’
* In my poor judgment it is not easy to be too strong on the
delinquencies of the present times – When we adopt excessive moderation to the few
we are guilty of cruelty to the many – I should prefer the Sermon glowing and
animated as you heard it, to the more lowered cautious production, after it had
passed thro the hands of the nibbling and lapping critics.
Take notice I write upon your information for I have not yet seen the Sermon in
question. I have had much anxiety on the subject of
Mrs. Inglis
. Her life is so valuable that one cannot
think without deep concern of any thing likely to affect it. I beg my kind regards
to them both, and tell
Mr. Inglis
how much I felt the sympathizing kindness of
his affectionate letter. I am now beginning to answer with my own pen a few of the
overflowing number I have received. I have deeply felt the affectionate kindness
of many though I have not been able to acknowledge it.
My eyes are better, but I am not
yet able to use them by candle light, which now fills a large portion of ones
time.
Mrs.
Macaulay
and her daughter* who have been with me near a Month
have most kindly supplied my lack of sight.
Alas! it is Newspapers
that now fill too much of ones time and thoughts. I tremble for our country
politically and morally. I do not know my own nation we certainly are
not that England I once knew, and must always love. I look to
the death of
the king as the completion of our calamities
.
Rivington has asked leave to collect into
a [tear]le cheap
book the Tracts and ballads agai[nst] [tear] Se[dition] [tear] and blasphemy I
wrote in the last year or two, as they will now come from the Organ of
Orthodoxy,
I hope they may make their way,
you must recommend the
dispersion of them to all who come in your way
I shall
order one to be sent to
Mr.
Inglis
.*
I expect your friend
Zachary this
day
; from him I expect to hear a great deal about you all.
I
hope dear
Lucy has quite recovered her
strength.
My love to the [sic] all, and to the
ancient Burton when you see him. I hope she continues staunch. Do
let me hear from you sometimes – a letter
costs you little or nothing and it is great pleasure to
me – I owe some
expression of love and gratitude to almost every Grant.
I do love them all cordially.*
Be sure write your next on a good handsome
Sheet, they made me pay double for the two small pieces received last
night.
Such a letter as your last should not have been unanswered a day, if I could have commanded my time, but in different ways
I have really been working double tides. So much company, such an over-flow of letters,
to say nothing of a presumptuous
book of between 5 and 6 hundred pages hurried over in a few Months.
* – It will be abused, and I am prepared for it.
I hope
Hatchard has by this time sent it you as I directed before publication
Professor Farish who was here the other day gave us an interesting account of your
Bible Meeting. I rejoyce that Episcopal tyranny could not defeat your pious labours. I have heard
such stories lately from that quarter, as I had rather repeat than write.* –
We too in our little way had a most prosperous
Meeting* 40 Clergymen &c – 120 dined at Barley Wood in the Garden chiefly, and 200 drank tea
–
I shall thankfully forwards your kind Subscriptions to
the French Translation, as soon as I am informed that my former one was received.
* They frightened me by calling the Tracts
Contes Moraux, that Rogue Mamontal’s Title I have as I think I told you prefixed the Epithet
Nouveaux which I think will obviate it.* The priests are very watchful and we must be prudent. I have got in
the Conservateur, as well as the News papers of
Paris, such abuse of the
Bible Society!* – Poor
Dr. Hamilton
! his society was rather too much for you! Painful recollections must have been inseparable
from the sight of him. – And there is no hope!*
I cannot express to you how much I was gratified with the
long, interesting and very pleasant journal with which
Miss Sparrow favoured me
. But though the letter in itself was in high degree pleasing yet the circumstance
of a very young lady situated as she is, and occupied as she was finding time and
disposition, and will, and kindness to bestow so much attention on an old friend,
merely because she knew it would give /pleasure,/ is a trait of character truly delightful; the kindness was not lost upon me, and
if I could I would love her better than I did before. I will not keep back, as I had intended, my letter for a cover tho’
we are expecting within a few days, three frankers, and also dear friends in succession; for our small Accommodations do not extend to many guests at once – These are
the Secretary for Ireland,* the
Bishop of Gloucester and
Mrs. Ryder
, and the
Bishop of St. Davids
- I woud have waited to tell you about them, were I not desirous to answer the private part of your letter which indeed I ought not to have delayed so long.
Two such very very kind and interesting letters merit to be acknowledged with a gratitude proportionate
to their value.
Thank you cordially for the account of
your Royal Society. I delight in the prospect of improving good in the amiable character of the Duke.
you fill me with a hope of his growth in piety.*
His Mother had a strong friendship for me I always saw a great deal of her when in town, and
in a long illness when I was not able to answer her, she never failed to write to
me every week.
* I have received a very sensible and rather pious letter from
Princess Sophia just now.
* I believe both brother and Sister want only right Society and Christian friends to
make them all we could wish. [Two lines of deletion]
A kind, agreeable, long and interesting letter from dear
Miss Sparrow should be answered directly but that I am in deep arrears to your Ladyship. Nothing can be more obliging than her little details, than which nothing makes letters
so pleasant. Public events are just now of so complicated & overwhelming a nature that even to
touch upon /them/ would fill my paper and occupy your time to little purpose. I truly pity
the K–* How surely does God at one time or other visit our errors and bring our sins to remembrance!
How he will get extricated the wisest seem not to know.
I have just got a letter from a friend whose habits lay open much information to him. He tells me that a Gentleman of his acquaintance on whom the firmest reliance may
be placed is lately come from the Continent. Passing through a small town in
Italy he stopped at an Inn and desired to see a good bed. On being shown one, he said it
was not large enough for him and his Wife –"Not large enough," said the Mistress of
the Inn, "why
the Princess of Wales and the Baron her Chamberlain Slept in it last week, and so they have done twenty
times before and they never complained that it was too small." You don’t mean that
they slept together said the gentleman? Yes replied the woman I do, as they have always
done." One or two such testimonies woud be proof positive. But then in what a distracted
state would it place this poor country.* – I fear we are emulating
France in all its parricidal horrors! What a Providential escape of the Ministers I grieve
to think what a flood of drunkenness, idleness and perjury
this premature Parliamentary election will introduce, – A propos.
I am desired to request your vote and interest for
Lord John Russel who is canvassing
your county. I know nothing of him, but that I fear he is what I call, on the wrong side. They speak well of his talents
*
I have been honoured by a kind, I had almost said affectionate letter from your friend
the
Duke of G.
He spoke of you and of his visit to
Brampton
con amore, I have had
two letters from
Princess Sophia
full of kindness and written with her usual good sense. She was staying with
the Dss. at
Bagshot Park.*
Many thanks for your very kind affectionate
letter. It is not,
I assure from want of regard that you do not hear from me oftener, but from
causes not under my controul.
You know perhaps that I have been confined
to my room, with one fever succeeding another for more than a year and half, and
these few last Months, in which I have been so much better, have yet been so
unlike Summer weather that I have not yet been allowed by my
Doctor to take an airing in the
carriage
.
I have however I am thankful
to say been able to receive a great many kind friends in succession in my room,
and indeed I have had almost too many affectionate guests, as much exertion is
bad for my chest
. The great loss
to me with respect to my particular friends is that I have such an overwhelming
correspondence, applications &c from strangers or slight acquaintance that
those I best love are most neglected by me. You among many others have come in
for a share of this neglect, which however by no means includes
forgetfulness.
I will not touch on the many painful topics which have lately occurred – I rejoyce
to find however that tho his loss can never be supplied, dear
Owen’s family are left in comfortable circumstances. I had feared the contrary.
–
Mr. Macaulay
has lent me
his valuable Wife for a short time in the absence of
my other friend. She leaves me to morrow.
I have always some inmate to receive my company below, write my letters and carry
on the family devotions, and read to me
What is become of you? Where are you? What are you doing? It would indeed be more
‘germain to the Matter’ to put these interrogations to me,
as I have long been in your debt for a
delightful letter. There is another reason for your not
asking where I am,
as I am sure to be found in the bow
window in my bed chamber. It is now about two years since I have been down
stairs, and I think four years and a quarter since I have been in any house
besides my own. It is not at present that my locomotive powers are not equal to
travel down stairs, but that this unmannerly summer – as
Charles Hoare calls it, made my good
Dr. Carrick
order me to run no risque
.
I have however a pleasant prison, and am not anxious for a jail delivery.
My health is much /better/ ,
thro the great mercy of God, than there was any human probability
would ever be the case; with frequent solitary interruptions of bad nights.
This is necessary to remind me that this is not my rest, and that this short
reprieve is granted me for the great work of repentance and
preparation.
I see a good deal of company in the middle of the day, too
much my Doctor thinks, but have yet had no one to sleep but the
Hoares,* and another friend.
But the
Post occupies and fatigues me much /more/ than my guests.
If you saw my table most days, you would think, if I were not a Minister of State,
I
was at least a Clerk in a public Office and these pretty businesses it is,
that so often prevent my writing to those
dear friends with whom it would be my delight to have more
intercourse I find however a good deal of time to work
with my hands, while
Miss Frowd reads
for the entertainment of my head. The learned labours of my knitting
Needle are now amassing to be sent to America to the Missionary Society* who sell
them there, and send the produce to the
Barley Wood School at
Ceylon
.* So you see I am still /good/ for something.
I am in your debt for two very kind and very interesting letters.
I feel all the value of your goodness to me in writing when you have so many important
avocations, and with such delicate health. With heartfelt /joy/ I hear of the delightful addition to your domestic comforts in the Society of those
so dear, so deservedly dear, to you. The safe arrival of the expected little invisible visitor will leave you nothing to desire as to this world’s blessings.* And Oh! the joy to think that these precious /blessings/ are not limited to this world, but thro that divine grace which has sanctified your
mercies, will extend in their consequences /to that world/ where there will be no interruption to their enjoyment, and no termination to their
continuance
I have been above a year and half confined to my room. I bless God I do not feel any
impatience to quit it, which they will not allow me to do till the warm weather is
confirmed. I am generally able to see my friends two or three hours in the middle
of the day. They are very kind, but my Physician complains that I see too much company.
This is sometimes the case, but when they come from a distance, I cannot refuse seeing
them; I have /had/ no one to dinner or sleep.
The Bp of Gloucester indeed is a privileged person. If any do come My friend entertains them below.
I am rather more than usually unwell to day, but I would no longer delay to intreat
you my dear Lady to think no more of my little begging petition. If any apology were
necessary your immense building expences would be more than sufficient, but none is necessary.
I have just received my little legacy from Mrs. Garrick* which will carry me thro’ the exigencies of the present season sufficiently, and
I may not live to another.
Your charities are too extensive to excuse any one from proposing new ones to you;
Even in my little way I find five applications for one I used to have, what then must yours be!
I have been thinking
much of you lately and have wished to write to you, but I did not know exactly
where to address you till yesterday.
Tho’ after a bad
night I am hardly able to hold a pen, I cannot let the post go without a
line. Would that my most cordial
Sympathy could be any comfort to you and dear
Henry. You do not however want human consolation, you both deserve
it from a higher Source. What a comfort to your dear brother to feel that he has in
no degree contributed to the misfortunes by which he is so severe a sufferer.*
May he may derive [sic] no small comfort from that goodness of God
which enables him to act with such pure integrity and to submit with such
Christian resignation to events which he could neither prevent nor
correct
.
I shall most gladly
receive you both, the change will do you good
. I am glad you talk of a
fortnight hence,
as I am to have a set of holiday folks,
whom I have promised and cannot put aside
. On the 27 I shall be most
happy to receive you both with your merry young One – I hope this may suit you – Do
write again – You are in my heart and in my prayers –
I forgot to ask
Wilberforce where to write to him – he has left
Bath – he said he had no home ready for him, but
talked of some
Mr.
Shaw
*
You will see /by/ my
scrawl that I cannot recover the free [use] of my hand, I cannot use it with
impunity.
I hope yourself and family
continue to enjoy health and all other needful blessings
My own health is so far restored that if I were a disciple of
Prince Hoenloe I shall be reckoned a
Miracle
The foregoing scrawl
was written near a fortnight ago, and I literally have not been
able to finish it. Wrington Bible Meeting had its
Anniversary on thursday last I have a large dinner on that day to the distant friend
I invite and to the neighbours. Curates who cant afford half a guinea at the public
dinner at the Inn. /Tho/ We were not so splendid this time, as at the last Meeting,
when we had two Bishops dear
Sir T. Acland &c
&c yet it was very respectably attended one of the London Secretaries was among
those who dined here; and not only the Clericals, but some Military Men are said to
have spoken well.
Vile and illegible as this
scrawl is, it must
go
I was much disappointed at not having
the pleasure of seeing you on Wednesday
,
as your letter gave me room to expect. Tho your obliging letter was
dated the 2d. of July I did not receive it till tuesday afternoon too
late to answer it by post
.
Your not coming on Wednesday I ascribed to the violent thunder Storm. I then
expected you yesterday and in that expectation did not dine till four o
clock.
I shall be very glad to see You and
Miss Newson* to take a family dinner on
Tuesday /next the Eleventh/ if it suits you
. Pray remember me kindly
to
Miss Hartley* I hope she will be of your party.
I write in haste not to lose
the Post. I remain
Nothing should have caused me to /delay/ thanking you for your very interesting and kind letter but
a painful disorder in my eyes, not the sight but lids. For these 8 Weeks I have not read as many pages, and I ought not to write. When my eyes are better I hope to say more, and express my /interest in/ all your concerns, as nothing that relates to you can be indifferent to me.
I feel it a sort of shame to take charity
Money from a County Member*, whose unbounded liberality I well know is not shut
up within the limits of that County.
– My Man
Charles is out from four in the morning to endeavour to buy 100
sacks of Potatoes. On hearing it the Farmers raised the price!! I am turned Merchant
They ask me for bread and give me a Stone*.
I am purchasing their Ore* at half price which I trust will sell hereafter.
Be so good as
speak to the
King, and desire him with my
Compliments to use brass Harness, it would become the fashion and my Miners
would become Gentlemen
– all the Geology /I know/ is that Lapis
Calaminaris makes brass, so you see I am not /one/ those Scientific people who do
not turn their knowledge to account. Present me most affectionately to dear
Lady Acland – In great haste
I shall come to town next Monday and shall be glad if you can do me the favour of
calling on me in the
Adelphi* either at three o clock or Six
as I am making some changes in my plan which
it is not easy to explain by letter
I began this scrawl several days ago as you will see by the dates, but indisposition
and other interruptions have prevented my finishing it.
Our Seraphic friend Way has left us. He seems to me not so much to be going to heaven
but to be already there.
I am a little alarmed for him, tho his Mind is perfectly well, yet he is so compleatly
absorbed in the great Object* he has in hand that I fear it will wear him out.
His Mind is so imbued, I may say so saturated with Scripture that one does not want
one’s Bible whence he is. We kept him very quiet, but in no company that he might
gain rest and composure as he is gone on to preach at several Churches in this district.
We had talked of you in public in a general way as to your health, where you were
&c – but before his departure I took him aside and asked if he had heard from
you lately, and when you were coming to
Clifton. He set my mind much at rest by saying he had not heard anything about you for some
time; now as he was just come from
Bath, Clifton &c I comforted myself that the thing is not so much discussed as you feared.
I have also seen
the
Powis’s who dined here
but not a word was said which might lead to the Subject.
I trust this transient cloud will soon be dispersed and your mind restored to its
firm tone, I should rather say your nerves, for your mind seems to have possessed
its full vigour in this transaction
I have no impertinent curiosity but shall be gratified to know hereafter, that all terminated to your satisfaction I am grateful to God that the young person
herself has conducted herself so unexceptionably. Such an experience may tend to strengthen
her character beyond a hundred fine theories.
I must write one line to
thank for
your two
letters
, which I do with the more pleasure
because they were written in so good a hand, so neat and free from blots. By this
obvious improvement you have intitled yourself to another book.
You must go to
Hatchard’s and chuse. I think we have nearly exhausted the
Epics. What think you of a little good prose? –
Johnson’s Hebrides*
or
Walton’s Lives* – unless you would like
a neat Edition of
Cowper’s Poems
* or of
Paradise Lost* for your own
eating* – In any case chuse something which you do not
possess.
– I want you to become a complete Frenchman that I may give you
Racine the only Dramatic Poet I know in any modern language that is
perfectly pure and good.* On second thoughts what say you to
Potter’s
Eschylus
* on attendant that you are a complete Grecian? – It is very
finely done and as heroic as any of your Epics. If you prefer it Send for this to
Hatchard’s
neatly bound.
I think you have hit off the Ode very well, I am much obliged
to you for the Dedication
. I shall reserve your translation to see how
progressive your improvement is. Next Summer if it please God I hope We shall talk
over some of these things. Remember me kindly to
Your
Pappa
and
tell
him I cannot say how much I am obliged to him for his kindness to poor
Shepherd
*.
He has made the Widow’s heart to sing for joy* – O Tom! that
is better, and will be found so in the long /run/ to have written as good an Ode as
Horace himself*.
My good friend
Miss Frowd
is so kind as to take the pen from me,
as my eyes are not
equal
to say more than that I am
my
dear Madam
faithfully yours
H More
Adieu my dearest Lady Olivia. I have not written so long a scrawl for many Months I fear you will scarcely decypher
it.
Ever most truly, faithfully and affectionately
Your Ladyship’s humble Servant
Hannah More
I return you many thanks in behalf of the poor and needy and him that is ready to
perish for your kind benefaction of £25.
I should not have delayd this so long, but that
the day I received it arrived here
Lord C. and
his Sister
*
and
Mr. Wilberforce
. This has fully occupied me for the last three days.
They are just gone I not only could find no time to write, but I wished to defer it
till I could say something about them.
Ld. C. looks well, and tho he is not, as you know naturally communicative and gay yet
he seemed not to labour under the same depression of spirits, but seemed to take an
interest in the conversation without much joining in it.
Not a word passed on a certain subject of course. Your name was never once pronounced
when we were together, nor did Mr. W. when we were alone once advert to it nor in any particular manner to the late
indisposition. Miss C. when we were alone incidentally mentioned your name several
times on indifferent subjects, and mentioned with much feeling, that you had been
kind and useful to her unfortunate deceased brother.* In short no bystander would have suspected that any thing extraordinary had passed.
Ld. C. is still slower of speech than usual but that is all.
Unfortunately,
Dr. Perry
* in whom they seem to place extreme confidence has a bad paralytic stroke. This seems
likely to shorten their stay at
Bath. Tho in fact there is little /or/ nothing in what I have said yet I thought you would like to hear that little. I believe
both W and I were equally afraid to broach the Subject and perhaps as things are irrevocably
fixed, it was as well not. No one I have seen from
Clifton or elsewhere has ever said a word on the subject; this shows that it is not generally
known, otherwise it would be talked of. So I hope you will cheer up and be comfortable
and happy.*
I woud not ask Mr. W for a Frank lest he should suspect I was on the look-out for intelligence. I sat in continual fear lest your name should escape me – Burn this
I feel deeply for him on various Accounts. Independent of private views and personal
interests, the Christian world would be affected by any serious and lasting injury
to his mind. I pray God to avert it. Set your heart at rest about your letter. It is destroyed, as all shall be which treat on delicate subjects.
I write a hasty line to take advantage of
Mr. Addington
’s Patent Frank* to send you a Specimen of my learned labours.
I was earnestly desired by some high persons to do something towards an Antidote for
the evil Spirit of insurrection which is at work more busily perhaps than you are
aware.
The Tract inclosed I have adapted to the present times
, and it is widely circulated.*
Perhaps you would like to order some copies from
Hatchard, and recommend Your Friends to do the same.
The
Harfords were with me when
your very welcome letter
arrived. – Come! come! I shall be most happy to see you
and dear
Sophia, and not the least glad to see my
dear
Ancient Burton, the last I believe left in
this land of nunnery abroad. Tell
Sophia that
Mary is very glad at the prospect of having
such a helper in cleaning and cooking, and I will pay her wages for hard work by
giving her a kiss every morning. I am glad you go to the
Harfords
first – as soon as you arrive there send me a line to warn the welcome
hour when I may expect the really great gratification of seeing three such dear
Creatures. It was certainly my
Goddaughter’s
turn.*
If I scribble on I may lose the
Post – so
God bless you all with the best of
his blessings, grace and peace.
When have I written so long a Scrawl? But I am
not willing our correspondence should dwindle on my part. – You cannot image how
overdone I am with letters –
when I am very poorly I sit and moon over the unanswered heap instead of
taking courage and getting rid of the debt: It hardly leaves me any time for
reading; especially when my Eyes are bad – they are better thank
/God/ .
I shall expect at least half a dozen Epistles,
not as fair barter but as liberal commerce, for this long and I fear hardly
intelligible scrawl. Besides telling me what you read, and who you see, you are
still surrounded by a society (but oh how thinned) whom I know and love, while
those about me are unknown to you, and would excite little interest
were it not so. When you write pray mention
how
Robert Grant is. He gave us two pleasant days some weeks ago
but was not quite well.
I coud not answer your letter
sooner. As you seem to wish to furnish
Tracts for this Month I will say no more against /it/ but I hope
you will allow it to drop afterwards. –
Hazard
writes me he can get no
3d.
part of
Cannardly.
No
Prayers nor
1st Hester Wilmot
Nor
7 Part
Bragwell
– He suggests that Editions of these & some others shoud
be printed
I have been long wishing to write to
you but was prevented [deletion] by
many weeks of disqualifying fever and its attendant
sufferings
.
Thro the mercy of God I am much better, that is I am
got back nearly to my usual state of moderate suffering
.
My Sister
Patty is
very poorly with that alarming determination of blood to the
head which is so much the reigning complaint.
May it please our
infinitely gracious God by these awakening calls to remind us how short our time is,
and to prepare us for a change which must soon take place!
Mrs. Waldegrave
by the desire of my dear
Lady W. just before her death announced to me
her departure.
Her dying behaviour was most exemplary. She
lived to see her offending, would I might say her penitent
son. She is thro much, very much turbulation endured
unto the kingdom of heaven. I never witnessed such a life of trials. They have
been sanctified to her. I feel much for her death tho I cannot regret it. It
closes for ever my connexion with Strawberry hill.
* There is no family in
so many branches of which I have found such zealous friends.
Lady W herself, her Sister
Lady
Easton
, her Mother
the Duchess of
Gloucester
, her Uncle
Lord Orford,
all were singularly attached to me /and my constant correspondents/ I have seen them
all go down to the grave – for one
Alas! the
brightest of the band* I have not ceased to mourn, not on account of his death
but his unhappy prejudices against religion, tho they never appeared either in
his conversation or letters to me.
It is now some time since dear
Mrs Hanh. More
has quite ceased from corresponding with her Friends, she has therefore requested
me to assure your Ladyship of the very great pleasure with which she received
the late kind & affecte. Communication from one whom she remembers with such unfeigned esteem
& regard.
Of those Friends indeed whom she yet does retain in her memory she has the most kind
& warm recollections, but it is the Will of the Almighty that this faculty of her mind should visibly & rather rapidly decline; its amiable qualities
however remain in full vigour, & as her benevolence is still exercised in a degree
only limited by the very utmost extent of her pecuniary ability, her prolonged life
is a great blessing to very many.
The recollections too of the truly beneficial purposes to which she employed her
fine intellect when it was in full vigour, must endear her to all who estimate talents
only as their influence is exerted for the glory of the great Grace, & the benefit
of His creatures –
she has still many cheerful spirits & is very open to enjoyment & to the attentions
of those immediate friends who surround her, with whom she is generally able to converse
Collectedly & very pleasantly but as
the introduction of Strangers now bewilders & fatigues her, it is deemed, by those who love her best & therefore consider her most, advisable
to admit none but very old & intimate acquaintances to intercourse with her, altho’
to enforce such a restriction requires (it is found) a very Strenuous and determined
effort, & brings upon
Miss Frowd, the kind & affecte. friend who constantly lives with her, some reproach & ill will
.
My Sister & myself inhabit a house not fifty Yards from her abode,* & see her some part of most days, indeed are frequently her intimates.
I feel it necessary to apologise for this intrusion, but hope that the motive which
has prompted it may obtain its excuse. Your Ladyship must be well aware that our dear Friend
Mrs. Hanh. More
has a considerable number of your letters to her, in her possession
; these letters, as well as those of many other of her valued correspondents, she
has been fond of looking over, but being no longer capable of exercising the same
care & caution as formerly, she suffers them to lie scattered on her Table, liable
to the inspection of any person who may have more curiosity than honour. We have however,
prevailed upon her to deposit your letters Madam, with those of
Mr. Wilberforce
&c with us, & they are at present in our possession – I can with truth affirm unread.
I would therefore take the liberty of proposing a reciprocal exchange of your Ladyship’s
&
Ly. Mandeville’s
letters to dear Mrs H More, & of her’s to you, all those passages in her’s which relate to any private
or confidential matters being of course previously obliterated: our dear Friend has
authorized us to make similar applications to some of her Friends which we have done
in many instances successfully.
It will very much add to the interest of her future Memoir, the materials for (which
we propose to place in the hands of an able Editor) that it should be enriched by
a selection of her letters & we candidly avow that it would be highly desirable &
serviceable to us, to obtain thro’ the kindness of some of her intimate correspondents
an early possession of as large a portion of her letters as is possible, in order
that we may while we have leisure select a few from each parcel of those which are the most interesting & worthy of insertion –
