LETTERXCVII.TO MR. M——.
August 20 1779.
IN all doubtful cases, it is best to adhere to the side of least difficulty.—Now whether you ought to have shewn thepolitessesof theTonin making enquiry after my Honour’s health and travels—or whether my Honour should have anticipated all enquiry—by sending a card of thanks for more than friendlycivilities—is a very nice point, which, for my part, I willingly leave to better casuists;—and as I honestly feel myself the obliged party—so I put pen to paper as a testimonial of the same.—I will suppose your head improved—I mean physically: I will also hope your heart light—and all your combustible passions under due subordination;—and then adding the fineness of the morning—from these premises I will believe that my good friend is well and happy.
I hope George effected his wish in town: if he has to do with people of feeling—there is a something in his face which will command attention and love—the boy is much handsomer than ever you were; and yet you never look better than when you look on him:—would to God you were as well settled!
The stage contained five good souls, and one huge mass of flesh[10]:—they, God bless them, thought I took up too much room—and I thought there was too little:—we looked at each other, like folks dissatisfied with their company—and so jolted on in sullen silence for the first half hour;—and had there beenno ladies, the God or Goddess of silence would have reigned the whole way:—for my part, quoth I to myself, I have enjoyed true pleasure all day—the morning was bright, refreshing, and pleasant; the delicious bowl of milk, the fresh butter, sweet bread, cool room, and kind hostess—the friendly converse, the walk—the animated flow of soul in I— M——; the little but elegant treat, high-seasoned with welcome.—Oh, Sancho, what more could luxury covet, or ambition wish for? True, cries Reason—then be thankful:—Hold! cries Avarice, with squinting eyes and rotten stumps of teeth—hungry, though ever cramming;—it cost thee one shilling and nine pence—one shilling and nine pence I say.—What of that, cries Œconomy, we eat fairly half a crown’s worth.—Aye, cries Prudence, that alters the case—od-so, we are nine pence in pocket, besides the benefit of fresh air, fresh scenes, and the pleasure of the society we love.—The sky was cloudless, and, to do me a particular favour, the moon chose to be at full—and gave us all her splendor;—but our envious mother Earth (to mortify our vanity) rose up—rolling the whole way inclouds of dust.—Contention flew in at the coach-windows, and took possession of both the females:—“Madam, if you persist in drawing up the glass, we shall faint with heat.”—“Oh dear! very sorry to offend your delicacy; but I shall be suffocated with dust—and my cloaths—” “I have cloaths to spoil as well as other folks, &c. &c. &c.” The males behaved wisely, and kept a stricter neutrality than the French with the Americans.—I chewed the cud of sweet remembrance, and, with a heart and mind in pretty easy plight, gained the castle of peace and innocence about nine o’clock.—Well, Sir, and how do you find yourself by this time?—I sweat, I protest—and then the bright God of day darts his blessings full upon my shop-window—so intensely, that I could fancy myself St. Bartholomew broiling upon a gridiron.
Oh! thou varlet—down—down upon thy knees, and bless thy indulgent stars for the blessings—comforts—beauties, &c. of thy situation—the Land of Canaan in possession milk and honey—shady trees—sweet walks covered with the velvet of nature—pleasant views—cool house—and the superintendencyof the sweet girls—to whom my love and blessings—and, sirrah! mark what I say, and obey me without reply: there is a plump good-natured looking soul—I think you called her Patty—my conscience tells me, that I owe her something more than kind words and cool thanks!—therefore tell her, a man that notes particularly the welcome of the eye—and saw plainly good-will and good-nature in the expression of her honest countenance—sends her a dish of tea—which she must sweeten by her cheery acceptance of it—from one who knows not how to return the many, many obligations he has received from the he’s and she’s of P—— house—exclusive of what he owes—and shall be content ever to owe—the saucy rogue he addresses.
Farewell. Yours, &c.
I. SANCHO.
[10]Mr. Sancho was remarkable for corpulency.
[10]Mr. Sancho was remarkable for corpulency.