You frightened me for a minute, my dear Madam; but every letter since has given me pleasure, by telling me how rapidly you recovered, and how perfectly well you are again. Pray, however, do not give me any more such Joys. I shall be quite content with your remaining immortal, without the foil of any alarm. You gave all your friends a panic, and may trust their attachment without renewing it. I received as many inquiries the next day as if an archbishop was in danger, and all the bench hoped he was going to heaven.
Mr. Conway wonders I do not talk of Voltaire's Memoirs. Lord bless me! I saw it two months ago; the Lucans brought it from Paris and lent it to me: nay, and I have seen most of it before; and I believe this an imperfect copy, for it ends no how at all. Besides, it was quite out of my head. Lord Melcombe's Diary put that and every thing else out of my mind. I wonder much more at Mr. Conway's not talking of this! It gossips about the living as familiarly as a modern newspaper. I long to hear what say about it. I wish the newspapers were as accurate! They have been circumstantial about Lady Walsingham's birthday clothes, which to be sure one is glad to know, Only unluckily there is no such person. However, I dare to say that her dress was very becoming, and that she looked charmingly.
The month of June, according to custom immemorial, is as cold as Christmas. I had a fire last night, and all my rose-buds, I believe, would have been very glad to sit by it. I have other grievances to boot; but as they are annuals too,—videlicet, people to see my house,— I will not torment Your ladyship with them: yet I know nothing else. None of my neighbours are come into the country yet: one would think all the dowagers were elected into the new Parliament. Adieu, my dear Madam!
Letter 275 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 25, 1784. (page 347)
I can answer you very readily in your own tone, that is, about weather and country grievances, and without one word of news or politics; for I know neither, nor inquire of them.(523) I am very well content to be a Strulbrug, and to exist after I have done being: and I am still better pleased that you are in the same way of thinking, or of not thinking; for I am sure both your health and your mind will find the benefits of living for yourself and family only. It were not fit that the young should concentre themselves in so narrow a circle; nor do the young seem to have any such intention. Let them mend or mar the world as they please; the world takes its own way upon the whole; and, though there may be an uncommon swarm of animalcules for a season, things return into their own channel from their own bias, before any effectual nostrum or fumigation is discovered. In the mean time, I am for giving all due weight to local grievances, though with no natural turn towards attending to them: but they serve for conversation. We have no newly invented grubs to eat our fruit; indeed, I have no fruit to be eaten: but I should not lament if the worms would eat my gardener, who, you know, is so bad an one that I never have any thing in my garden. I am now waiting for dry weather to cut my hay; though nature certainly never intended hay should be cut dry, as it always rains all June. But here is a worse calamity; one is never safe by day or night: Mrs. Walsingham, who has bought your brother's late house at Ditton, was robbed a few days ago in the high road, within a mile of home, at seven in the evening. The di`a nimorum gentium pilfer every thing. Last night they stole a couple of yards of lead off the pediment of the door of my cottage. A gentleman at Putney, who has three men servants, had his house broken open last week, and lost some fine miniatures, which he valued so much that he would not hang them up. You may imagine what a pain this gives me in my baubles! I have been making the round of my fortifications this morning, and ordering new works.
I am concerned for the account you give me of your brother. Life does not appear to be such a jewel as to preserve it carefully for its own sake. I think the same of its good things; if they do not procure amusement or comfort, I doubt they only produce the contrary. Yet it is silly to repine; for, probably, whatever any man does by choice, he knows will please him best, or at least will prevent greater uneasiness. I therefore, rather retract my concern; for, with a vast fortune, Lord Hertford might certainly do what he would: and if, at his age, he can wish for more than that fortune will obtain, I may pity his taste or temper; but I shall think that you and I are much happier who can find enjoyments in an humbler sphere, nor envy those who have no time for trifling'. I, who have never done any thing else, am not at all weary of my occupation. Even three days of continued rain have not put me out of humour or spirits. C'est beaucoup dire for an Anglais. Adieu! Yours ever.
(523) "As politics spoil all conversation, Mr. Walpole, the other night, proposed that every body should forfeit half a crown who said any thing tending to introduce the idea, either of ministers or opposition. I added, that whoever mentioned pit-coal or a fox-skin muff, should be considered as guilty; and it was accordingly voted." Hannah More, March 8, 1784.-E.
Letter 276 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 30, 1784. (page 348)
Instead of coming to you, I Am thinking of packing up and going to town for winter, so desperate is the weather! I found a great fire at Mrs. Clive's this evening, and Mr. Rafter hanging over it like a smoked ham. They tell me my hay will be spoiled for want of cutting; but I had rather it should be destroyed by standing than by being mowed, as the former will cost me nothing but the crop, and 'tis very dear to make nothing but a water-souchy of it.
You know I have lost a niece, and found another nephew: he makes the fifty-fourth reckoning both sexes. We are certainly an affectionate family, for of late we do nothing but marry one another. Have not You felt a little twinge in a remote corner of your heart on Lady Harrington's death?(524) She dreaded death so extremely that I am glad she had not a moment to be sensible of it. I have a great affection for sudden deaths; they save oneself and every body else a deal of ceremony.