TO CHARLES MANNERS ST. GEORGE, ESQ.,
FRANKFORT.
London, March 23, 1817.
This week has been barren of letters from you, but your last was more than ‘the perfume and the suppliance of a minute.’ It is still fresh and green, and has made me smile as often as I read it over; for one of your letters is always a permanent part of my amusement till relieved by a successor.
Many are the inquiries that have been made for you, and amongst thousands of others, they have been made by Marsh,[58] who rests on his oars, and speaks no more in the House; but, en revanche, talks long and well at dinner, takes the lead, gives good jokes pretty often, and bad ones when the good are not forthcoming, having now established such a character that men take them in the lump, one with another. He plays into the hands of Smith, one of the writers of Rejected Addresses, but the least efficient; who sings his comic songs after dinner, and returns Marsh’s ball at other times. S—— also acknowledged your civilities to him and his companions. He was near not surviving this acknowledgment, for very soon after, between talking, drinking, and eating all at once, with equal assiduity, he was almost choked, and forced to leave the room. Dott followed him professionally, saw him black in the face, administered somewhat, and brought him back ‘triomphant, adoré,’ to eat a second dinner.
TO MRS. LEADBEATER.
London, March 27, 1817.
Your expressions of sympathy and consolation are most soothing. I do not become less sensible of my loss, but I am more accustomed to it. Sometimes a quick perception of former pleasure in that delightful gift of heaven will return. I then remember how I felt in looking at her opening beauty, hearing her gay, gentle voice, and watching her dawn of little joys and virtues; and I recollect the hope that accompanied all this, and wonder that I am not more afflicted; for I know that but a small share of my present comparative composure springs from pious resignation. Mad. de Sévigné says truly, ‘On est si faible, qu’on se console;’ and we attribute to our strength what we owe to our weakness, to our willingness to be occupied by the weeds, when the flowers are gone. There may be those whose consolations spring solely from religion. I speak but of myself and the majority.