TO THE HONOURABLE MISS AGAR.
Bursledon Lodge, Feb. 17, 1820.
I hope the circumstances of ——’s intended marriage are more favourable than Mrs. —— represents them. In one’s first vexation one sees only the dark side, and one overlooks every little sunny spot. I wrote, as you advised, but I thought it kindest to write immediately, because your dear self, and many others, have found comfort from being presented at the first moment of intense feeling with a different view of things from their own. Besides, she might have felt embarrassment in announcing a circumstance of some mortification (some one says, women always feel as if a misfortune were a disgrace), and I thought a peace-making letter might spare her this slight pain, and be of some little use. As to —— and her lover having behaved so ill, though I am now a mother, not a daughter, I still think, and even more than I did then, that we owe great indulgence in these cases to the young, when the feeling is love, the purpose marriage, and the parties unmarried. This is an opinion every one acts upon, though few have the sincerity to own it. Therefore parents would save themselves much trouble by being mild and gentle at first.
March 15, 1820.—I see that last Sunday deprived me of an old and tried friend, E—— C——. His love for Colonel St. George, his friendly and almost fatherly regard for the young girl who, as St. George’s wife, was at once brought from retirement and quiet to the turmoil of a most dissipated capital, the vivid affection in which he seemed enwrapt for a short period on the commencement of my widowhood, which he allowed me to repress without painful explanations, the original foundation of friendship which all this left behind, and his late efficient kindness to my dear Charles, will often revive in my recollection. There was an individuality about him which is rare, and is becoming more so every day. His manly frankness, his good nature, doubly valuable because one saw it sprang from a vigorous root, his spirit of enjoyment, simplicity, classical taste, and quick intelligence, made him a most pleasant companion. He was self-poised; his manner was alike to all, the same in all society, because he valued not more than they deserved those adventitious circumstances which are dependent on the breath of a circle. Though his life was devoted to his profession, and perhaps shortened by his attention to its duties, he was without ambition, sought neither honours nor emoluments, and he closed it retired in the bosom of his family, towards whom a long absence had not impaired his affection.
TO RICHARD TRENCH, ESQ.
London, March 22, 1820.
The Ancient Music was delightful to-day—the singing middling. I, who have heard Mrs. Billington’s ‘They have triumphed gloriously,’ like a brilliant and magnificent rainbow, can only be astonished by the clearness and sweetness of Mrs. Salmon’s or Miss Stephens’ exertions. I was delighted with Jomelli’s Berenice, from Lucio Vero. The recitative is sublimely pathetic, and the moans of the accompaniment make it absolutely a fine duet. I allow that in the song the voice accompanies the instrument; but this is no more a defect, when it suits the situation, than Satan being Milton’s hero. I met Rogers and Henry Sanford; both of whom were amusing. The poet was unfeignedly glad to see me, gave me a seat, and sat by me. I went late, and but for his exertions in bringing me to a place I had not seen, should not have found one for some time, as it was quite full. He recommended to me Grétry On Music. I tried to make him say a word in honour of H——; dumb as the dead! his countenance even did not show that he heard me.