551.
To Lord Sheffield.
Lausanne, May 15th, 1790.
LEGAL FORMS BENEFIT LAWYERS.
*Since the first origin (ab ovo) of our connection and correspondence, so long an interval of silence has not intervened, as far as I remember, between us.* Yet on the present occasion neither is materially to blame, nor has either been materially injured. My conscience was easy, since my last letter, I felt myself in the proud security of a creditor, and though after a certain space I waited every post for an answer, yet I waited with little impatience and no anxiety, in the firm persuasion that Lady-day would finally settle the whole transaction of the mortgage and the payment. I now find that the delay is involuntary and indefinite, and that it is not so easy to escape even from the amicable grip of the Court of Chancery. Can such superstitious forms be of any use except to the Lawyers? whose bill I much apprehend. Might not such an obsolete deed which I had perfectly forgot, have been thrown into the fire with the consent of all parties? However we must follow the stream, and I trust that neither Sussex nor Africa, nor Reading nor Bristol will relax your diligence in the cause of your friend. In the winding up an arrangement of twenty years, it is vexatious to be stopped by a little knot: but otherwise my nerves are not so much discomposed as you might suspect. As I believe the purchasers to be honest and sincere, the difference is only between the rent and the interest: the tenant deserves no mercy, and I hope your orders are absolute for distraining the next day on failure of payment. I trust that the £8000 mortgage is settled with Sainsbury, nor do I dislike your last resolution of pouring the whole residue into the funds.
*From my silence you conclude that the moral complaint, which I had insinuated in my last, is either insignificant or fanciful. The conclusion is rash. But the complaint in question is of the nature of a slow lingering disease, which is not attended with any immediate danger. As I have not leisure to expatiate, take the idea in three words: "Since the loss of poor Deyverdun, I am alone; and even in paradise, solitude is painful to a social mind. When I was a dozen years younger, I scarcely felt the weight of a single existence amidst the crowds of London, of Parliament, of Clubs; but it will press more heavily upon me in this tranquil land, in the decline of life, and with the encrease of infirmities. Some expedient, even the most desperate, must be embraced, to secure the domestic society of a male or female companion. But I am not in a hurry; there is time for reflection and advice." During this winter such finer feelings have been suspended by the grosser evil of bodily pain. On the ninth of February I was seized by such a fit of the Gout as I had never known, though I must be thankful that its dire effects have been confined to the feet and knees, without ascending to the more noble parts. With some vicissitudes of better and worse, I have groaned between two and three months; the debility has survived the pain, and though now easy, I am carried about in my chair, without any power, and with a very distant chance, of supporting myself, from the extreme weakness and contraction of the joints of my knees. Yet I am happy in a skilful physician, and kind assiduous friend: every evening, during more than three months, has been enlivened (except when I have been forced to refuse them) by some chearful visits, and very often by a chosen party of both sexes. How different is such society from the solitary evenings which I have passed in the tumult of London! It is not worth while fighting about a shadow, but should I ever return to England, Bath, not the Metropolis, would be my last retreat.
Your portrait is at last arrived in perfect condition, and now occupies a conspicuous place over the chimney-glass in my library. It is the object of general admiration; good judges (the few) applaud the work; the name of Reynolds opens the eyes and mouths of the many; and were not I afraid of making you vain, I would inform you that the original is not allowed to be more than five-and-thirty. In spite of private reluctance and public discontent, I have honourably dismissed myself.[149] I shall arrive at Sir Joshua's before the end of the month; he will give me a look, and perhaps a touch; and you will be indebted to the president one guinea for the carriage. Do not be nervous, I am not rolled up; had I been so, you might have gazed on my charms four months ago. I want some account of yourself, of My lady, (shall we never directly correspond?) of Louisa, and of the soft, the stately Maria. How has the latter since her launch supported a quiet Winter in Sussex? I so much rejoice in your divorce from that b—— Kitty Coventry,[150] that I care not what marriage you contract. The second City in England would suit your dignity, and the duties of a Bristol Member, which would kill me in the first session, would supply your activity with a constant fund of amusement. But tread softly and surely; the ice is deceitful, the water is deep, and you may be soused over head and ears before you are aware. Why did not you or Elmsly send me the African pamphlet[151] by the post? it would not have cost much. You have such a knack of turning a nation, that I am afraid you will triumph (perhaps by the force of argument) over justice and humanity. But do you not expect to work at Beelzebub's sugar plantations in the infernal regions, under the tender government of a negro-driver? I should suppose both My lady and Miss Firth very angry with you.
As to the bill for prints, which has been too long neglected, why will you not exercise the power, which I have never revoked, over all my cash at the Goslings'? I have no further claims either for quarto or octavo copies, but I am persuaded that Cadell's liberality will credit your applications in my name for one of each. The Severy family has passed a very favourable winter; the young man is impatient to hear from a family which he places something above the Holy family: yet he will generously write next week, and send you a drawing of the alterations in the house. Do not raise your ideas; you know I am satisfied with convenience in architecture, and some elegance in furniture. I hear nothing decisive either from Sir Ralph Payne about Madeira, and if I do not receive a supply in the course of the summer, I shall be in great shame and distress. I would write to the Bath Knight if I knew his address. That is serious business, but I admire the coolness with which you ask me to epistolize Reynell and Elmsly, as if a letter were so easy and pleasant a task; it appears less so to me every day.*