Lord Cardigan, though with none of these to be named in an intellectual point of view, was yet, from frequency of intercourse, and his Lordship’s almost ardent regard for the Doctor, a substantial loss in colloquial cheerfulness without effort; such as, after having passed the meridian of life, it is not facile in its wane to replace, however commonly, while possessed, it may be under-rated; the value of easy commerce being seldom duly appreciated till we are fit for no other.
But the loss the most prejudicial to the Doctor’s commixture with the world of letters, was that which robbed him of Mr. Malone, with whom he had now for many years been upon terms of literary intimacy; the Doctor still, though no longer a principal in any work, retaining a lively pleasure in promoting, as an agent or coadjutor, the works of others; for gaily as he had enjoyed, and skilfully as he had earned his personal reputation, his exertions had always had a nobler stimulus than vanity. For its own sake he prized whatever was intellectual; and had he lived
“—in deserts, where no men abide,”
he would have explored whatever his eye could have surveyed, his understanding have developed, or his activity have pursued, even in so lone a position of nature in her most savage state, from his integral love of information.
Nevertheless, the deprivation that, in these last years, had most sorrowingly touched his feelings, was that of Lady Clarges; whose exhilarating spirits and lively eccentricities, during her youth and health, had long been delightful sources to him of entertainment and agreeability; while her musical excellencies, and her affecting resemblance to his Susanna, had established her in his mind with a yet more endearing influence. And so sensible was she to his tender partiality, that he was amongst the last, as well as the most select, who obtained almost constant admission to her apartment during her suffering and lingering premature decline.
His utter retirement from the world had made him gradually, but wholly lose sight of his favouring and favourite Mrs. Garrick, La Violetta; of Sir George and Lady Beaumont, Mr. Batt, and Mr. Rogers; though they were all exhilaratingly alive to the world which they helped to exhilarate.
Happily, however, most happily, he still preserved his first, who was now become his oldest cherished friend, Lady Crewe, who constantly kept her place at the head of all, save of born affinity, who were most consoling to his sympathies: and though she approved the timely wisdom of his retreat from full and great societies, she exerted her most zealous powers to personally enliven his voluntary seclusion.
Amongst those of yet flourishing friends who, after Lady Crewe, were of the greatest weight to him for comfort, support, and pleasure, foremost he still reckoned two noblemen of just reputation for goodness, honour, and benevolence,—the Marquis of Aylesbury and the Earl of Lonsdale, who, with their exemplary ladies, and their singularly amiable families, never thought they saw enough of Dr. Burney; and repaired every breach of verbal intercourse, by an unremitting assiduity through that of the pen.
Lady Charlotte Greville, Lady Mary Bentinck, Lady Manvers, Lady Rushont, and several others, might still, also, be named; but imprimis in this second list must be placed the sprightly Marchioness of Thomond: and the Dowager Lady Templeton, whom he particularly admired, and who honoured him with never-varying regard and esteem.
And with the animated and engaging Miss Hayman, and the erudite and accomplished Miss Knight, some few occasional letters were still exchanged.