LETTERXVII.TO MRS. H——.
February 9, 1774.
IT is the most puzzling affair in nature, to a mind that labours under obligations, to know how to express its feelings;—your former tender solicitude for my well-doing—and your generous remembrance in the present order—appear friendly beyond the common actions of those we in general style goodsort of people;—but I will not teaze you with my nonsensical thanks—for I believe such kind of hearts as you are blest with have sufficient reward in the consciousness of acting humanely.—I opened shop on Saturday the 29th of January—and have met with a success truly flattering;—it shall be my study and constant care not to forfeit the good opinion of my friends.—I have pleasure in congratulating you upon Mrs. W——’s happy delivery and pleasing increase of her family;—it is the hope and wish of my heart—that your comforts in all things may multiply with your years—that in the certain great end—you may immerge without pain—full of hope—from corruptible pleasure—to immortal and incorruptible life—happiness without end—and past all human comprehension;—there may you and I—and all we love (or care for) meet!—the follies—the parties—distinctions—feuds of ambition—enthusiasm—lust—and anger of this miserable motley world—all totally forgot—every idea lost, and absorbed in the blissful mansions of redeeming love.
I have not seen Sir Jacob near a fortnight—but hope and conclude him well.—R—— is well, and grows very fat—an easy mind—full purse—and a good table—great health—and much indulgence—all these conduce terribly to plumpness.—I must beg, when you see Mr. ——, if not improper or inconvenient, that you will inform him—that where there is but little—every little helps;—I think he is too humane to be offended at the liberty—and too honest to be displeased with a truth.—I am, with greatful thanks to Mr. H——, your sincerely humble servant and poor friend,
I. SANCHO.
My best half and Sanchonetta’s are all well.