Chapter LV: Letter LIV: To Mr. S

October 24, 1777.

I DENY it. That I ought to have acknowledged your favour two weeks ago I confess--but my silence was not so long--nor broad--nor rusty--nor fusty as yours.--Blithe health--festive hours--and social mirth--be thine, my friend! Thy letter, though late, was truly welcome--it unbended the brow of care--and suspended, for some hours, disagreeable thoughts.----By St. Radagunda! quoth I--(ramming my nostrils with Hardham) he has catched the mantle.--Alas, poor Yorick! oh! that thou hadst, by divine permission, been suffered a little--little longer, amongst the moonstruck children of this namby-pamby world! Father of light and life! thy will be done;--but surely--half the wit--half the good sense--of this present age--were interred in Sterne’s grave. His broad philanthropy--like the soul-cheering rays of the blessed sun, invested his happy spirit, and soared into Heaven with it--where, in progressive rise from bliss to bliss, he drinks in large draughts of rapture, love, and knowledge, and chants the praises of redeeming love, with joy unbounded, and unceasing vigour.--Your invocation has mounted me, Merry-Andrew like, upon stilts.--I ape you as monkeys ape men, by walking upon two.--That you have recovered the true tone of your health and spirits, I rejoice--to be happy in despight of fortune, shews the Philosopher--the Hero--the Christian. I must confess, my fortitude (which is wove of very flimsy materials) too oft gives way in the rough and unfriendly jostles of life:--Madam Fortune, who by the way is a bunter (and such I love not), has been particularly cross and untoward to me since you left us. They say she is fond of fools--’tis false and scandalous--she hates me--and I have the vanity to say and believe--that if folly, sheer folly, had any charms--I should stand as fair in her esteem--as A. B. C. D. E. F.--or any of Folly’s family through the whole alphabet.--You halted at Burleigh--you did just what I wished you to do--and left it, I trust, as well in health as you entered that sweet mansion--stopp’d at Retford--and found your venerable parents well--and contributed to their happiness--increased their felicity by the many nice little attentions of filial love--which the good heart delights in--and even angels approve.--And how do the worthy souls of Hull and its environs?--Do they credit themselves by esteeming a good-enough kind of mortal?--You cannot imagine what hold little Billy gets of me--he grows--prattles--and every day learns something new--and by his good-will would be ever in the shop with me. The monkey! he clings round my legs--and if I chide him or look sour--he holds up his little mouth to kiss me;--I know I am the fool--for parent’s weakness is child’s strength:--truth orthodox--which will hold good between lover and lovee--as well as - - - - - - - - - - - - - -. Mrs. Sancho and her virgins are so, so. Mr. Sancho, the virgins, well as youth and innocence, souls void of care and consciences of offence, can be.--Dame Sancho would be better if she cared less.--I am her barometer--if a sigh escapes me, it is answered by a tear in her eye;--I oft assume a gaiety to illume her dear sensibility with a smile--which twenty years ago almost bewitched me;--and _mark_!--after twenty years enjoyment--constitutes my highest pleasure!--Such be your lot--with a competency--such as will make œconomy a pleasant acquaintance--temperance and exercise your chief physician--and the virtues of benevolence your daily employ--your pleasure and reward! And what more can friendship wish you?--but to glide down the stream of time--blest with a partner of congenial principles, and fine feelings--true feminine eloquence--whose very looks speak tenderness and sentiment.--Your infants growing--with the roseate bloom of health--minds cultured by their father--expanding daily in every improvement--blest little souls!--and happy--happy parents!--such be thy lot in life--in marriage;--but take a virgin--or a maiden--to thy arms;--but--be that as thy fate wills it.--Now for news.--Two hours ago (in tolerable health and cheary spirits) considering his journey not so fatigued as might be expected--followed by four superb carriages--their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Dutchess of Gloucester arrived in town. As to America, if you know any thing at Hull, you know more than is known in London.--Samuel Foote, Esq; is dead--a leg was buried some years since--and now the whole _foote_ follows.--I think you love a pun.--Colman is the gainer, as he covenanted to give him 1600_l._ _per annum_, for his patent;--in short, Colman is happy in the bargain--and I trust Foote is no loser.--I have seen poor Mr. de Groote but once--and then could not attend to speak with him, as I had customers in the shop.--I waited by appointment for Mr. ----, to get your honor’s address--and then three weeks before I could get the franks--a fortnight since for Mr. ---- writing to you--I call this a string of beggarly apologies.--I told M---- you expected a line from him--he wanted faith.--I made him read your letter--and what then? “truly he was not capable--he had no classical education--you write with elegance--ease--propriety.”----Tut, quoth I, pr’ythee give not the reins to pride--write as I do--just the effusions of a warm though foolish heart:--friendship will cast a veil of kindness over thy blunders--they will be accepted with a complacent smile--and read with the same eye of kindness which indulges now the errors of his sincere friend,

IGN. SANCHO.

A true Genius will always remember to leave a space unwritten--to come in contact with the wax or wafer--by which means the reader escapes half an hour’s puzzle to make out a sentence;--and ever while you live--never omit--no--not that--what?--what!--dates! dates!--am not I a grocer?----Pun the Second.