LETTERXLIII.TO MR. M——.
July 27, 1777.
GO-TO!—the man who visits church twice in one day, must either be religious—curious—or idle—whichever you please, my dear friend;—turn it the way which best likes you, I will cheerily subscribe to it.—By the way, H——n was inspired this morning; his text was from Romans—chapter the—verse the—both forgot;—but the subject was to present heart, mind, soul, and all the affections—a living sacrifice to God;—he was most gloriously animated, and seemed to have imbibed the very spirit and manners of the Great Apostle. Our afternoon Orator was a stranger to me—he was blest with a good, clear, and well-toned articulate voice:—he preached from the Psalms—and took great pains to prove thatGod knew more than we—that letters were the fountain of our knowledge—that a man in Westminster was totally ignorant of what was going forward in Whitechapel—that we might have some memory of what we did last week—but have no sort of conjecture of what we shall do to-morrow, &c. &c.—Now H——n’s whole drift was, that we should live the life of angels here—in order to be so in reality hereafter:—the other good soul gave us wholesome matter of fact;—they were both right—(but I fear not to speak my mind to my M——, who, if he condemns my head, will, I am sure, acquit my heart.)—You have read and admired Sterne’s Sermons—which chiefly inculcate practical duties, and paint brotherly love—and the true Christian charities—in such beauteous glowing colours—that one cannot help wishing to feed the hungry—cloathe the naked, &c. &c.—I would to God, my friend, that the great lights of the church would exercise their oratorical powers upon Yorick’s plan:—the heart and passions once listed under the banners of blest philanthropy—would naturally ascend to the redeeming God—flaming with grateful rapture.—NowI have observed among the modern Saints—who profess to pray without ceasing—that they are so fully taken up with pious meditations—and so wholy absorbed in the love of God—that they have little if any room for the love of man:—if I am wrong, tell me so honestly—the censure of a friend is of more value than his money—and to submit to conviction, is a proof of good sense.—I made my bow to-night to Mrs. H——; the rest of the rogues were out—bright-eyed S—— and all.—Mrs. H—— says that you are hypped—nonsense!—few can rise superior to pain—and the head, I will allow, is a part the mostsensible, if affected;—but even then you are not obliged to use more motion than you like—though I can partly feel the aukward sensations and uneasy reflections, which will often arise upon the least ail of so precious a member as the eye—yet certain I am, the more you can be master of yourself (I mean as to chearfulness, if not gaiety of mind) the better it will of course be with you.—I hope G—— is well—andthat you ride often to see him I make no doubt.—I like the monkey—I know not for why, nor does it signify a button—but sure he is good-tempered and grateful;—but what’s that to me?—Good-night:——the clock talks of eleven.
Yours, &c.
I. SANCHO.