"I send you the only coin I have, my very warm thanks for one of the
finest and best turkeys that entered the metropolis to be devoured in
celebration and honour of Christmas. A Christian of the utmost degree
of faith, that is as great as you ladies place in physicians, who
devoured with a devout and religious pique, could not have eaten more
or with more pleasure than I, though I sat down with no other zeal
than an hungry appetite, and little better than a mere heathen
stomach. When I reflected that you good people at Norwich were
rioting on just such a dinner (upon my honour), I could not help
blushing for your preposterous consciences, that, could expect to
enjoy so much pleasure in this world, and be saved in the next too.
'Tis well for me that no one offered to bet with me, that the
pheasants did not come from you; but, I pray, do not think of
returning me the thanks, which I paid for them. They are all due, and
a vast sum more on the old account, though you, like a liberal
creditor, may have no idea of urging the payment of the balance
against me, and I beg they may be carried to it. I had almost
forgotten to add Alfred's thanks to mine for the turkey [he was the
youngest brother, who was an ensign in the 14th Foot, and had been
wounded in the recent battle]. He was here in time, and made a dinner
that contrasts rather vividly with his first meal after the battle of
Waterloo, on a slice of old cow that they shot with their muskets, and
tore to pieces, without giving themselves a moment's pause to reflect
whether the Bramin's might not be the true religion. But I must not
anticipate any part of his narrative to you, and Harriet, as to
another Dido and Anna, of all he has seen, done, and suffered,
throughout which he has been, like the French poets (Grissets) famous
parrot, _quite as unfortunate_ as AEneas, and a great deal more pious.
In other respects, indeed, you'll not find him like that bird; he'll
not give you his adventures with the gratuitous loquacity of poor
Poll. In this he'd rather resemble the bullfinch; you must give out
the tune to him, and chirrup with questions to him before he will pipe
his strain to you; and when I consider the vast difficulty which the
natural taciturnity of you ladies places you under of asking
questions, I feel for your curiosity in its tight stays excessively.
On this occasion, perhaps, where the motive is so strong, you will
break through your native restraint; and, therefore, I advise you to
have your interrogatories ready by the 8th of January, 1816, when
Alfred, who means to accompany me, will be in Norwich. I am very
grateful to you for your benevolent wishes of prosperity and happiness
to me, but they fall on a heart dead to expectation. I have been so
long in obscurity, that hope has quite left off visiting me; the best
years of my life are gone; and what is my condition? Depressed
spirits, and ill health; and the way as far as I can see before me, no
better, nay worse than the lengths behind. What right have I to hope?
The ring and the lamp of the Arabian tales must cease to be fiction,
before I can have any chance of good fortune. But I do not call for
pity. If I have not learned to be skilful in parrying and eluding the
blows of Adversity, from experience, I am at heart somewhat hardened
by long subjection, and habituation to them; and, if I have not the
soothing of Hope, I am not altogether without the consolation of
Philosophy. The happy must substract from his happiness the frequent
reflection, which comes like a cloud over him, that death will snatch
him from all his blessings. The wretched finds relief in the
certainty that death will end his misery; therefore, that state is not
very enviable, nor this intolerable. Both will soon, very soon be
past, and small, indeed, is the difference between past pleasure and
past pain. Be assured, madam, that I, in return, as warmly wish you
prosperity and happiness; I wish not only that the approaching, but
many succeeding years, may have both hands full of plenty and delight
for you; and I trust that it is not so unreasonable in you to believe,
that future events may give a character of prophecy to my present
wishes, as it would be in me to expect the fulfilment of yours.
Pray, have the goodness to tell my father, that the vol. of Pickering,
from Priestleys, is procured, and that the copy of the Manuel
Libraire, at Longman's is still to be sold at four guineas. Pray,
make my thanks to him for letting me know the day of the sessions at
Norwich; I shall be present to help to do the nothing there. I
suppose he knows that the Corporation of Yarmouth have elected Mr. W---
, to the stewardship. I hear him say 'How stupid of them to elect
that fellow.' I beg his pardon; it shewed exquisite judgment; and
yet, after all, there was somewhat of a felicity in it. They thought
it would be deserting propriety to have a man in the lower office of
steward of higher understanding than their Recorder. Now, under all
the fleecy cloud of wigs that lowers in the court of King's Bench,
they could not have found a second rate head to A---s, but that of W---
d, and nothing but 'a lucky hit of nature' that mended her design when
she was determined to make as thick a skull as she had ever yet turned
out of her hands, could have given existence even to this instance of
inferiority. He says he was quite ignorant of their intention of the
honour that has been done him. If this be not affectation, I can
imagine nothing with which to compare or illustrate his surprise,
except that which must have come over the onion, when it discovered
that the Egyptians had made a God of it. I am wrong: surprise is the
effect of perception and he has none; his is like the genuine night,
that admits no ray, and in his very stupidity he is involved from the
least glimmering of consciousness of it. Pray, lessen the anxiety of
Harriet, which an unmerited affection for me betrays her into, by
telling her that I am getting better, and excuse the want of turn to
the conclusion of my letter in the want of paper; and allow me
abruptly to assure you that, I am, dear Madam,
Yours most faithfully,
HENRY COOPER."
The following letter, the reader must think very piquant and graphic, and
it will, probably, tend to throw a new light upon his preconceived
opinions and estimation of a certain great man. He must remember, too,
whilst reading it, that Admiral Sir George Cockburn had the command of
the ship which conveyed Napoleon and his suite to St. Helena.
This letter is dated,
_London_, 14 _Oct._ 1816.