LETTERXVIII.TO MR. S——.
Charles Street, Nov. 26, 1774.
YOUNG says, “A friend is the balsam of life”—Shakespear says,—but why should I pester you with quotations?—to shew you the depth of my erudition, and strut like the fabled bird in his borrowed plumage. In good honest truth, my friend—I rejoice to see thy name at the bottom of the instructive page—and were fancy and invention as much my familiar friends as they are thine—I would write thee an answer—or try, at least, as agreeably easy—and as politely simple.—Mark that; simplicity is the characteristic of good writing—which I have learnt, among many other good things, of your Honor—and for which I am proud to thank you;—in short I would write like you—think likeyou (of course); and do like you; but, as that is impossible, I must content myself with my old trick;—now what that trick is—thou art ignorant—and so thou shalt remain—till I congratulate you upon your recovery.—A propos, you began your letter ill, as we do many things in common life;—ten days elapsed before you finished it—consequently you finished it well.—My dear friend, may you, thro’ God’s blessing, ever finish happily what you undertake—however unpromising the beginning may appear to be!—I want you much in town—for my one sake—that’s a stroke of self-love.—And do you mean to bring any candles up with you?—that’s another!—I do not wonder at your making your way amongst the folks of Hull—although there are four of the same profession;—we love variety.—I will give them credit for admiring the Artist;—but if they—that is two or three of them—have penetration to look deeper—and love the Man—then I shall believe that there are souls in Hull.—So—my cramp epistle fell into the hands of thy good and reverend farther—tant pis—why, he must think me blacker than I am.—Mons.B—— goes on well:—I suppose you know he has opened an Academy in St. Alban’s Street—at two guineas a year—naked figures three nights a week—Mr. Mortimer and several eminent names upon his list—and room left for yours—he hops about with that festivity of countenance which denotes peace and good-will to man.—I have added to my felicity—or Fortune more properly has—three worthy friends—they are admirers and friends of Mortimer and Sterne;—but of this when we meet.—You are expected at B—— House upon your return—and I hope you will call on them, if consistent with your time—and agreeable to you.—My friend L—— is in town, and intends trying his fortune among us—as teacher of murder and neck-breaking—alias—fencing and riding.—The Tartars, I believe, have few fine gentlemen among them—and they can ride—though they have neither fencing nor riding masters;—and as to genteel murder—we are mere pedlars and novices—for they can dispatch a whole caravan—or a hoorde—and eat and drink—wench and laugh—and, in truth,so far they can match our modern fine gents.;—they have no acquaintance with conscience—but what’s all this to you?—nothing—it helps to fill up the sheet—and looks like moralizing;—the good-natured partiality of thy honest heart will deem it—not absolutely nonsense.—Alas!—thus it often happens—that the judgement of a good head is—bum-fiddled—and wrong-biass’d by the weakness of a too kind heart;—under that same weakness let me shelter my failings and absurdities—and let me boast at this present writing—that my heart is not very depraved—and has this proof of not being dead to virtue;—it beats stronger at the sound of friendship—and will be sincerely attached to W—— S——, Esq; while its pulsations continue to throb in the brest of your obliged
IGNATIUS SANCHO.
Do pray think about returning—the captain—the girls—the house—the court, stand all—just where they did—when you left them.—Alas! Time leaves the marks of his rough fingers upon all things—Time shrivels female faces—and sours small-beer—gives insignificance,if not impotency, to trunk-hose—and toughness to cow-beef.—Alas! alas! alas!—