LETTERXXVII.TO MISS L——.
August 27, 1775.
JUST upon the stroke of eleven—as I was following (like a good husband) Mrs. Sancho to bed—a thundering rap called me to the street-door—A letter from Tunbridge, Sir!—thanks many thanks—good night.—I hugged the fair stranger—and—as soon as up stairs—broke open the seal with friendly impatience—and got decently trimmed, for what? why, truly, for having more honesty than prudence.—Well, if ever I say a civil thing again to any of your sex—but it is foolish to be rash in resolves—seriously, if aught at any time slips from my unguarded pen, which you may deem censurable—believe me truly and honestly—it is the error of uncultivated nature—and I will trust the candour of friendship to wink at undesigned offence;—not but Icould defend—and would against any but yourself—the whole sad charge of flattery—but enough.—I paid a visit in Bond Street this morning.—Your sister looked health itself—she was just returned from the country, and had the pleasure to hear from you at her first entrance.
Your friendly offer for the little stranger is in character—but if I was to say what my full heart would dictate—you would accuse me of flattery.—Mrs. Sancho is more than pleased—I won’t say what I am—but if you love to give pleasure, you have your will.—Are you not pleased to find Miss Butterfield innocent?—It does credit to my judgement, for I never believed her guilty—her trial proves undeniably that one half of the faculty are very ignorant.—I hear she intends suing for damages—and if ever any one had a right to recover, she certainly has;—and were I to decree them—they should not be less than 400l.a year for life, and 5000 pound down by way of smart-money.—In my opinion, the D——ss of K—— is honoured, to be mentioned in the same paper with Miss Butterfield—Youshould read the St. James’s Evening papers for last week—you will easily get them at any coffee-house—the affair is too long for a letter—but I will send you some black poetry upon the occasion:
With Satire, Wit, and Humour arm’d,Foote opes his exhibitions;High-titled Guilt, justly alarm’d,The Chamberlain petitions.My Lord, quoth Guilt, this daring fiendWon’t let us sin in private;To his presumption there’s no end,Both high and low he’ll drive at.Last year he smoak’d the cleric[3]gown;A D——ss now he’d sweat.The insolent, for half a crown,Would libel all the Great.What I can do, his Lordship cries,Command you freely may:Don’t licence him, the Dame replies,Nor let him print his play.
With Satire, Wit, and Humour arm’d,Foote opes his exhibitions;High-titled Guilt, justly alarm’d,The Chamberlain petitions.My Lord, quoth Guilt, this daring fiendWon’t let us sin in private;To his presumption there’s no end,Both high and low he’ll drive at.Last year he smoak’d the cleric[3]gown;A D——ss now he’d sweat.The insolent, for half a crown,Would libel all the Great.What I can do, his Lordship cries,Command you freely may:Don’t licence him, the Dame replies,Nor let him print his play.
With Satire, Wit, and Humour arm’d,Foote opes his exhibitions;High-titled Guilt, justly alarm’d,The Chamberlain petitions.
With Satire, Wit, and Humour arm’d,
Foote opes his exhibitions;
High-titled Guilt, justly alarm’d,
The Chamberlain petitions.
My Lord, quoth Guilt, this daring fiendWon’t let us sin in private;To his presumption there’s no end,Both high and low he’ll drive at.
My Lord, quoth Guilt, this daring fiend
Won’t let us sin in private;
To his presumption there’s no end,
Both high and low he’ll drive at.
Last year he smoak’d the cleric[3]gown;A D——ss now he’d sweat.The insolent, for half a crown,Would libel all the Great.
Last year he smoak’d the cleric[3]gown;
A D——ss now he’d sweat.
The insolent, for half a crown,
Would libel all the Great.
What I can do, his Lordship cries,Command you freely may:Don’t licence him, the Dame replies,Nor let him print his play.
What I can do, his Lordship cries,
Command you freely may:
Don’t licence him, the Dame replies,
Nor let him print his play.
Poor Lydia is exceedingly unwell.—They who have least sensibility are best offfor this world.—By the visit I was able to make this morning—you may conclude, my troublesome companion is about taking leave. May you know no pains but of sensibility!—and may you be ever able to relieve where you wish!—May the wise and good esteem you more than I do—and the object of your heart love you, as well as you love a good and kind action!—These wishes—after the trimming you gave in your last—is a sort of heaping coals on your head—as such, accept it from your sincere—aye, andhonestfriend,
IGNATIUS SANCHO.
Mrs. Sancho says little—but her moistened eye expresses—that she feels your friendship.
[3]Dr. Dodd.
[3]Dr. Dodd.