with flowers, etc. In order whereto, she had got two beauties in their kind ready to send thither at your first order. The season, I have several times admonished her, would be too cold for such tender creatures to travel, unless she made her friend give them her forthwith. So, in short, whenever you will direct your servant in town, or her (who will be your servant in town in a few days), they shall be delivered, and sent in what manner you appoint. My mother still remembers Mrs. Knight, though it is not to be told how much she is decayed since you saw her. I thank God she lives, and lives not in pain, though languid, and void of pleasure. I wish for you both, and all my friends, a life extended no longer than the enjoyment of it, and the possession of that understanding which will make us contented to part with the one, when we cannot preserve the other. I am, with sincerity, and all good wishes to each of you, dear Sir and dear Madam, Your, etc. LETTER VII. TO THE SAME. SIR, July 30, 1730. I HAVE long intended to tell you and Mrs. Knight, that I live, and live very faithfully, a servant to you both. Accidents prevented my seeing you before you left London; and I had (after many inquiries, which would have seemed impertinent, had I not thought Mrs. Knight in extreme danger) the satisfaction of hearing she was recovered enough to go a journey, almost the same day that she went for the very next I got to town, and found you had left it. Since that, your servant there told me she continued well: I hope it, but should be better satisfied to be ascertained by yourself. I hope you both enjoy whatever is to be enjoyed in the country, and where two, well-gathered together, make a thousand: for Mrs. Knight's sake, indeed, I wish a little quadrille in the midst of you. I am stuck at Twitnam, as fast as my own plants, scarce removeable at this season. So is Mrs. Patty Blount; but not stuck with me, but removeable to all other gardens hereabouts. Women seldom are planted in the soil that would best agree with them you see carnations fading and dirty in Cheapside, which would blush and shine in the country. Mrs. Cornish is just now joing to some soft retreat, at Hampstead, or Richmond, or Islington, having read the following epigram; When other fair-ones to the shades go down, Mrs. Blount bids me assure you she is faithfully your servant; and I have only to add that my mother is much better this summer than she ought to be, not having seen Mrs. Knight; and that I am sick every other day as usual, and this day for one; but truly and always, dear Sir, Your most affectionate and most humble servant. LETTER VIII. TO THE SAME. SIR, Stowe, Aug. 23, 1731. THE place from which I write to you will be a proof alone, how incapable I am of forgetting you and your Gosfield: for if any thing under Paradise could set me beyond all earthly cogitations, Stowe might do it. It is much more beautiful this year than when I saw it before, and much enlarged, and with variety yet I shall not stay in it, by a fortnight, so long as I did (with pleasure) with you. You must tell Mrs. Knight she had been spoken of, and her health toasted here; and that Lord Cobham sends his services, with a memorandum to perform her promise of seeing this place. If she keeps it, I do not despair to live (partly by my own exemplary temperance, and partly by the assistance of Mother Vincent) to meet you both here another season. I shall yet think it a diminution to my happiness, to miss of half our companions and compotators of syllabub, not to have Mr. Newsham & and his dogs, and his præceptors, and his dearly-beloved cousin, and his mathematics, and his Greek, and his horses. Without a compliment to all, or any of them, I never passed an easier and more agreeable month, in spite of some ill health, and some melancholy, than that of July last. I hope you will long enjoy that tranquillity and that satisfaction, which you spread over all that is about you. I often wish Mr. Mallet joy, in my own heart, of his having exchanged such a whining, valetudinary, cloudy, journalier companion, as myself, for the good-humour, and serenity, and indulgence of your family. I am pretty sure he will deserve it all. Mrs. Patty languishes in town, and diets there on fools, in defect of friends. I am sorry to forsake her at such a time; and she is more sorry you live at such a distance. Her sister affirms, nobody of sense can live six miles out of London; and indeed I know nothing that can set her right, but the free use of the cane you bestowed upon me, and which I could wish to bestow upon her. I can't say my rambles contribute much to my health ; yet I take no corporeal medicaments, but wholly apply Mrs. Knight's son, by her first husband. n He appears to have been tutor to young Newsham. to remedies of the mind: if human philosophy will not do, I must desire Mrs. Elliot to pray for me. My next journey is to Southampton, to my Lord Peterborow; where also I have a Catholic friend, who will take care of my soul; and shall dine with a Jesuit, thrice a week, worth all the priests in Essex, if you except Mr. Tripsac. I desire you all to accept of my faithful services, and to know no man is more mindful of you, than, dear Sir, Your, etc. SIR, LETTER IX. TO THE SAME. I HAD very long ago found a day liable to no accident of preventing me from seeing yourself and Mrs. Knight; but for a very tedious series of wretched ill health, that almost renders every day of my life wearisome and vexatious. My mother too has relapsed twice or thrice; and it is so melancholy to her to be quite alone, that I have in a manner kept home entirely. Twice I endeavoured to find you, as I think, since we last met. I wish it now; and, if I am not downright ill, will wait on you both next week. Guelfi sent me a letter this post, to whom I owed an arrear, thinking some things were wanting to be done, particularly to conceal better the joining of the urn. Pray send to him about it, and tell him (it will save me writing, and my head aches extremely), that as soon as that is done, or if it be already done, I will pay him. Be assured, dear Sir, of our hearty services to yourself and your lady. I am, etc. I hope you have read the book of the Bathos, and the last volume of our Miscellanies. LETTER X. TO THE SAME. Twitnham, Nov. 24. DEAR SIR, I HAD some view of seeing you in the country; i but the weather proved so cold, that the Duchess of Bucks came back to town before I was ready to go to Lees. I am forced now to content myself with such informations of Mrs. Knight's state of health, as your people give me in Dover-street. If these be true, she is pretty well; and I hope the cheerfulness you two can give one another, will make all that bad seasons, il air, and uncomfortable prospects can do, ineffectual to molest or cloud you. Here the most unhappy gay people are reduced to mere children's play, and childish sights to divert them. They go every day to stare at a mock coronation on the stage, which is to be succeeded by a more ridiculous one of the harlequins (almost as ridiculous a farce as the real state one of a coronation itself). After that, they hope for it again in a puppet-show, which is to recommend itself by another qualification, of having the exact portraits of the most conspicuous faces of our nobility in wax-work, so as to be known at sight, without Punch's help, or the master's pointing to each with his wand as they pass. So much for news! 'Tis what passes most material in this metropolis; till, you, Sir, with your fellow-members, come to find us greater business after Christmas. At last I have seen the statue up, and the statuary down at the same time. The poor man has not been out of bed since. I sent part of the money to him, The coronation of George II. which nearly ascertains the date of this letter. |