Chapter VI: Letter V: To Mr. K

Richmond, Oct. 20, 1769.

WHAT, my honest friend K----, I am heartily glad to see you, quoth I--long look’d for, come at last.--Well, we will have done with that;--you have made ample amends for your silence--have approved yourself, what I ever esteemed you--an honest, hearty, good lad.--As to your apologizing about your abilities for writing--’tis all a humm--you write sense;--and verily, my good friend, he that wishes to do better must be a coxcomb.--You say you was thrown from your horse but once--in my conscience, I think once full oft enough--I am glad, however, you escaped so well.--The description of your journey I return you thanks for--it pleased me much--and proved that you looked rather farther than your horse’s head.--A young man should turn travel--home--leisure--or employment--all to the one grand end of improving himself. From your account of Dalkeith, I now view it “in my mind’s eye” (as Hamlet says), and think it a delightful spot.--I was wrong, I find, in my notions of the Edinburghers--for I judged them the grand patterns for--cleanliness--politeness--and generosity. Your birth-day entertainments made a blaze in our papers, which said, amongst other things, that the puncheons of rum flood as thick in your park as the trees--oh; how I licked my lips, and wished the distance (400 miles) less between us.--You do not say a word about coming back again.--Poor Pat has paid his last debt--peace and bliss to his spirit! rest to his bones!--his wife and daughter (both with child) and his youngest child all came down;--what a scene had I to be spectator of!--trust me, James, I cry’d like a whipt school-boy!--But then my noble master--Great God, reward him!--Tell me not of ninety covers--splendour--and feasting--To wipe away the tears of distress, to make the heart of the widow to sing for joy--may such actions ever (as they have long been) be the characteristic of the good Duke of M----! Dr. James, thy favourite, twice came here:--at his first visit he gave no hope--the next day he came, and poor Pat had resigned up his spirit two hours before he got here;--his Grace paid him the tribute, the rich tribute, of many tears--and ordered me to get a lodging for his widow and children:--in the evening he ordered me to go to them for him--and acquaint Mrs. W---- how very sensible he was of her great loss, as well as his own--that he would ever be a friend to her--and as to the boy--though he was perfectly well satisfied with his conduct in his place--yet, if he would like any trade better than continuing his servant--he would put him out, and support him through his apprenticeship;--and he would give him a year to consider it.--Pat has chose to stay, and his Grace promises whoever uses him ill shall be no servant here:--on the night of his interment, after all was over, the Duke wrote to the widow himself, and inclosed a twenty pound bill--and repeated his promises.--Your own heart, my dear James, will make the best comment--which is grandest--one such action--or ten birth-days;--though in truth the latter has his merit--it creates business, and helps the poor.--I suppose you will expect me to say something of our family. Her Grace, I am truly sorry to say it, has been but poorly for some time--and indeed is but indifferent now--God of his mercy grant her better health! and every good that can contribute to her happiness!--The good Marquiss is with us--Are not you tired? This is a deuced long letter.--Well, one word more, and then farewell. Mrs. M---- is grown generous--has left off swearing and modelling. S---- is turned Jew, and is to be circumcised next Passover. W---- is turned fine gentleman--and left off work--and I your humble friend, I am for my sins turned Methodist.--Thank God! we are all pretty hobbling as to health.--Dame Sancho will be much obliged to you for your kind mention of her--she and the brats are very well, thank Heaven! Abraham gives up the stockings--and monkey Tom his box--they both, with all the rest, join in love and best wishes to your worship.--I, for my own share, own myself obliged to you--and think myself honoured in your acknowledging yourself my pupil; were I an ambitious man, I should never forgive you,--for in truth you by far excel your master:--go on, and prosper, “Render unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar’s;”--laugh at all the tall boys in the kingdom.--I rest, dear Jemmy, thy true friend and obliged fellow-servant,

I. SANCHO.