Mr. Burke was at Beaconsfield; and joined not, therefore, in the kind
participation which the Doctor might else have hoped for, on the
re-appearance of his invalid daughter in those enlightening circles of
which Mr. Burke, now, was the unrivalled first ornament.
It may here be right, perhaps, as well as interesting, to note, since
it can be done upon proof, the kindness of heart and liberality of
Mr. Burke, even in politics, when not combatted by the turbulence and
excitement of public contention. Too noble, indeed, was his genuine
character, too great, too grand, for any warp so offensive to mental
liberty, as that of seeking to subject the opinions of his friends to
his own.
This truth will be amply illustrated by the following letter, written
in answer to some apology from Dr. Burney, for withholding his vote,
at a Westminster Election, from the friend and the party that were
canvassed for in person by Mr. Burke.
“TO DR. BURNEY.
“My Dear Sir,—I give you my sincere thanks for your
desire to satisfy my mind relative to your conduct in
this exigency. I am well acquainted with your principles
and sentiments, and know that every thing good is to be
expected from both. * * * God forbid that worthy men,
situated as you are, should be made sacrifices to the
minuter part of politics, when we are far from able to
assure ourselves that the higher parts can be made to
answer the good ends we have in view! You have little
or no obligations to me; but if you had as many as I
really wish it were in my power—as it is certainly in
my desire—to lay upon you, I hope you do not think me
capable of conferring them, in order to subject your
mind, or your affairs, to a painful and mischievous
servitude. I know that your sentiments will always outrun
the demands of your friends; and that you want rather to
be restrained in the excess of what is right, than to be
stimulated to a languid and insufficient exertion.” * *
The rest of this letter, so striking, yet so calm in its enlarged
political humanity—is not comprehensible, no copy of the letter to
which it was a reply having been found. But the following copy of the
answer of Dr. Burney to the above letter of Mr. Burke, is still extant.
“TO THE RIGHT HON. EDMUND BURKE.
“The manner, dear Sir, in which you have kindly relieved
my mind is a new obligation, for which I am utterly
unable to express my gratitude. * * * You have not only
removed my fears of incurring your censure, but have put
me in humour with my own proceeding: and somebody has
truly said, that the worst quarrel a man can have is
with himself. Indeed, I was so circumstanced in the late
exigency, that I was unable to satisfy my feelings by
any mode of action, or of quiescence, in my power: but
you have reasoned in so enlarged and liberal a manner on
the subject, that, great as I thought the trial during
my mental conflict, you have so nearly transformed the
evil into good, as to make me almost rejoice in the
occasion that has given birth to such a letter as that
with which you have honoured me. Your delicacy, dear Sir,
in refraining from the least hint or allusion that could
be construed into a wish that I should go with you in the
late struggle, though you had a fair claim upon me,[20]
redoubles my desire to give you some voluntary testimony
of the great respect and regard with which I have the
honour to be,” &c. &c. &c.
* * * * *
Dr. Burney at this time resided entirely at Chelsea College; and he
found this sojourn so perfectly to his taste, that, though obliged,
some years afterwards, by official arrangements, to remove from the
ground floor to nearly the highest range of rooms in that lofty
edifice, he never wished to change the place of his abode.
The distance from town was just sufficient to avoid its bustle, its
smoke, its dust, and its noise; yet not enough to impede any evening
engagement, as it was not above an hour’s walk, and consequently half
an hour’s drive from Piccadilly. Operas, concerts, conversaziones, were
all within reach of his time, when without obstruction from his health.
And Chelsea air is even proverbially salubrious, Doctors Arbuthnot,
Sloane, Mede, Cadogan, Farquar, &c., having given it medical celebrity
in making it their chosen residence.
He had also the pleasure, in the College itself, of some very
agreeable, hospitable, and respectable neighbours; to all of whom he
was an acquisition equally valuable and valued. And which to the taste
and pursuits of a man of letters was still more important, he found
here safe, lofty, and well fitted-up chambers, that were spacious
and ready for the accommodation of his books. Here, therefore, and
completely to his satisfaction, he placed his learned, classical,
scientific, and miscellaneous library.
Solaced, nevertheless, as was now his anxiety for his invalid daughter,
he was not at rest. She looked ill, weak, and languid; and the danger
was clearly not over.
She, too, with all the delight her affections experienced, felt her
heart involuntarily saddened by quitting their Majesties and the
Princesses: and the final marks of their benign favour upon parting
with her, cast a shade of melancholy over her retreat from their
presence, dejecting—though not amounting to regret.
So deplorably, indeed, was her health injured, that successive
changes of air were medicinally advised for her to Dr. Burney; and
her maternally zealous friend, Mrs. Ord, most kindly proposed taking
charge of the execution of that prescription. A tour to the west was
undertaken; the Bath waters were successfully tried: and, after passing
nearly four months in gentle travelling, the good Mrs. Ord delivered
the invalid to her family, nearly re-established.
The paternal affection which greeted this double restoration, to her
health and her home, gave her, then, a happiness which vivified both.
The Doctor allowed her the indulgence of living almost wholly in his
study; they read together, wrote together, compared notes, communicated
projects, and diversified each other’s employment; and his kindness,
enlivened by her late danger and difficulties, was more marked, and
more precious to her than ever.