"I do not wish [Conway] to be in too much haste to renew his visits in Camden Place. I would strongly recommend him to play a back game, and see how absence, and some degree of solicitude, which surely his illness must excite, operates there. It is of the first consequence to his and to her future peace and happiness, that she should be able to appreciate, and he to ascertain, the degree of affection existing on her part. If she has mistaken the sentiment, I think she will now be able to detect the mistake; as nothing is more likely to bring out the truth, than any real or imaginary danger respecting the object. And if the same futile objections remain, depend upon it she has mistaken the feeling, whether she knows it or not, and she would do better to put an end at once to all suspense on the subject...."
3 Feb. 1820.
I am glad dear Mrs. Pennington approved my Verses, your taste is so good. They are like lines written in 1712, not at all of a modern sort. You have seen our Chevalier since I did; he keeps close, and Bessy, whom I sent to comfort him in his illness, brings me no good accounts. She is bad enough herself, poor girl, but pities him: I wish they were both at Clifton under your care....
Death is near us all, and after death, judgment. Poor Mr. Eckersall has had a stroke of Apoplexy or Palsy, but the family seem little aware o'nt: and I was seized with such a lethargic stupor after dinner yesterday at Dorset Fellowes's, I was forced to play Loo to keep myself awake, and lost four shillings....
This Recess, shocking as the cause may be, is fortunate for our Chevalier; and I hope he will shine out and dazzle all beholders at his Benefit. Don't you remember Siddons saying she never acted so well as once when her heart was heavy concerning the loss of a child?
I break off to say the present King is dying. God's judgments are abroad. Write to dear Conway, and with your sweet eloquence persuade him to sink all thought of his own calamities in those of the Nation he is an honour to....
On February 5 Mrs. Pennington replies. "Your letter, dearest Friend, nearly paralysed me. Poor Bessy ill!—Dear Conway no better!—Everybody sick or dying! I am absolutely ill with terror and solicitude! I was quite afraid to enquire for the Papers to-day but, thank God! the accounts of the King are more favourable.... The first impressions I had of perfect manly grace, and princely dignity, were drawn from the fine form and gracious manners of our present Sovereign. Early impressions are always the most lasting. Never have I seen, but in our favourite, dear Conway, anything to compare with him, nor ever shall I see his equal again; and I feel that my affliction would be almost personal grief, should anything fatal happen to him at this time.... God, of his mercy, avert this great additional calamity from us, I most heartily pray....
"Everybody was pleased with the respectful and affectionate attention [of Sir John Salusbury] at the Ball.... I was surprised at some hints dropped at the chagrin he felt on the subject of your increased acquaintance; and could not help telling him, tho' in perfect good humour, that my claims in that line were prior to his own. I was sorry I did not recollect to observe to him, that it was a maxim of Dr. Johnson's, whose wisdom no one could question, 'that we should renew, and keep our acquaintance and our friends in repair, as we did our wardrobes, because they would wear out.'"
Bath, Sunday 6 Feb. 1820.
Bessy is safe, dearest Mrs. Pennington, by dint of bleeding, starving, blistering. Bessy is safe, ... and our noble-minded, tender-hearted friend ... is better too; I shall not outlive all that love me. It is a trying time, and some affliction falls on every family, the Royal Family worst.
As if Misfortune made the Throne her seat,
And none could be unhappy,—but the Great.
Of the present Sovereign I know nothing personally. From the old King I got a kiss when presented, and the late Regent made application thro' Murphy, for my acquaintance 20 years ago. But as Mr. Thrale's daughters were then upon a visit to Streatham Park, and not their own Father master of the house, I declined all such honours: and therein acted wisely, which I seldom do....
What you say of an exacting, authoritative friend is most true. One thinks immediately of Marmontel, "Je baisse les liens de l'amitie,—j'en redoute la chaine." I'm willing still to kiss the links of friendship, but from the chain I fly. Those I have never found me exacting, or (without request,) interfering. Friendship is far more delicate than love. Quarrels and fretful complaints are attractive in the last, offensive in the first. And the very things which heap fewel on the fire of ardent passion, choke and extinguish sober and true regard. On the other hand, time, which is sure to destroy that love of which half certainly depends upon desire, is as sure to increase a friendship founded on talents, warm with esteem, and ambitious of success for the object of it. Such feelings depend on the merit of the man or woman that excites them, and can be dull'd only by their conduct.
So here's a fine heap of wise nothings, as you call your own preachments,—which I hope our dear Chevalier will thank you for.
The King is safe,—as well as Bessy. Equal in the sight of Him who created and redeem'd them: very unequal in importance to those who look up to them for support and assistance.
They live however, and so for awhile does dear Mrs. Pennington's poor old Friend
H. L. P.
Mrs. Pennington replies in a long letter dated February 9, from which it appears that Conway's love-affair had come to the conclusion she had anticipated. Miss S[tratton] could not stoop to the position of an actor's wife, and insisted on his abandoning his profession, if he was to aspire to her hand, a step which he could not bring himself to take. While full of sympathy for the suffering this decision had caused him, she is quite convinced that, as far as his career is concerned, it is all for the best, and concludes thus:
"I shall hate a Miss something more to the end of my life for his sake, and what is worse, notwithstanding the just and high regard he entertains for you, and his new liking for me, I fear he will contract a hatred for Bath, and I shall see little more of him for the rest of my life: and then what a silly thing have I done to interest myself thus deeply in his concerns! The most astonishing thing of all is the power he possesses of creating so strong and pure an interest in his favour, especially with me, who have long since ceased to feel the influence of that sort of enthusiasm, and am become fastidious from disappointment. In very few instances have I ever experienced the attachment I feel to him! It seems as if that Girl alone was exempt from the power of the magic he bears about him. Well, let her go!—sit down at ease with a Country Squire, 'suckle fools, and chronicle small Beer.' ... But as you say, while we do right, and honourably, and wisely, (and when he has recovered the proper use of his reason—I am sure he will do,) all will ultimately go well, and better than if it had gone our way, depend upon it."
The two "Love Letters," so called, written to Conway on February 2 and 3, when read in connection with those to Mrs. Pennington, show not Mrs. Piozzi's doting fondness for the handsome actor (as the Editor evidently desired to insinuate), but her deep concern for his welfare, and her anxiety lest he should damage his professional prospects by giving way to despondency or despair as the result of his rejection. In the first she subscribes herself "your more than Mother, as you kindly call your H. L. P." In the second she mentions having received a call from the Strattons, and that she could not bring herself to touch the hand of Mrs. S., whom she evidently held responsible for the rupture. She refers to them in her Commonplace Book, in a passage evidently written about this date. "Strattons, a family here, pretended passionate love [for Conway,] and I thought them in earnest, ... dined with me yesterday, and said all was over, because the girl's friends would not agree to the connection." The words in brackets have been carefully obliterated, but there is little doubt about them, as Conway's name has been similarly treated in several other places. The last of the "Love Letters" is dated February 28.