Lord A. has left us after a short visit. He was more alive to general subjects than he has been for some time, not being so much smothered in petticoats as he was lately. There passed a moment when his society was all composed of us ‘fair defects,’ and certainly his mind requires stronger food than the pap we can offer him. I never knew a man live entirely with women who did not suffer from it more or less.
TO MRS. LEADBEATER.
Bursledon Lodge, Feb., 1820.
I do not believe Hayley is a man of bad character; he is loved and admired by some of the most respectable. I paid him a visit last autumn; a friend of his brought me to his little villa, near Bognor, by appointment. He lives in the prettiest nutshell possible, a miniature paradise; no luxe about it, except that of extreme neatness; and fine pictures; Romney, painted by the artist himself, Cowper, Charlotte Smith, Gibbon, and others of celebrity, graced his walls; and he pleased himself and me by showing me beautiful portraits of his wife, his mother, and other relations. We then walked round his small garden, strolled on his velvet lawn, and returned to drink coffee, which he always does at two, the coffee being accompanied with various other matters for his guests. Afterwards we returned to his drawing-room and pianoforte, where he showed me several songs, chiefly sacred, of which the words were either by Cowper or himself, and he seemed pleased that I could play and sing them at sight; for I still retain my voice, and, though I have no time to practise, it does not seem inclined to leave me, which I wonder at. I think he said he was seventy-five. He did lately marry a young wife, but that ‘crime,’ according to Sheridan, ‘carries the punishment along with it;’ they soon quarrelled, and parted, for the bard who sang so sweetly the ‘Triumphs of Temper,’ is said to be somewhat irritable and irascible; the lady was so too, and expected he would have done nothing for the rest of his life but sing her praises. His look and manner denote impatience, curbed by good breeding; and his nieces seem much afraid of him; so, I perceived, did his visitors and old friends. I think his manner and the expression of his face create awe rather than put one at one’s ease. At least such was the impression upon me.
TO A FRIEND.
Bursledon Lodge, Feb. 10, 1820.
I cannot defer a moment in writing to you on an event so interesting as our dear ——’s marriage. I have been informed that, as to the externals of life, her choice is not that which her parents would naturally have made. In this there is one bright side, that it is her unbiassed choice—unbiassed not only by the wishes of others, but by any of those mixed motives, calculations of ambition or interest, which so often lead to disappointment, and sometimes induce the young to part with their liberty, where they do not love so much as they ought, either for their own happiness or that of their husbands. Those women who choose for themselves undoubtedly become the best wives, and I am sure, from the warmth and tenderness of ——’s disposition, that her affection as a daughter will receive a strong accession from her grateful sense of your kindness and that of Mr. —— in yielding to her on this important point. Of that she will feel the merit still more, if she herself becomes a mother.
I am anxious to hear from you, for I know by experience, that for one’s children one hopes to attain opposite advantages, both from the right hand and from the left; and that any event respecting them which does not almost unite irreconcileable blessings, displeases one at first; but a little time passes away, imagination ceases to operate, every feature in the prospect bears its due proportion, and one is somewhat surprised on recollecting one’s first uneasiness and displeasure.