But the social enjoyment that came closest to the bosom of Mr. Burney,
and of all his race, sprang spontaneously and unremittingly from the
delight of all their hearts, Mr. Crisp; who, from his never abating
love of music, of painting, of his early friend, and of that friend’s
progeny, never failed to make his almost secret visit once a year
to town; though still, save for those few weeks, he adhered, with
inflexible perseverance, to his retirement and his concealment.
Yet whatever disinclination to general society had been worked upon his
temper by disappointment, and fastened to his habits by ill health,
the last reproach that could be cast upon his conduct was that of
misanthropy; though upon his opinions it might deserve, perhaps, to be
the first.
He professed himself to be a complete disciple of Swift, where that
satirist, in defending his Yahoos, in Gulliver’s Travels, avows that,
dearly as he loves John, William, and Thomas, when taken individually,
mankind, taken in the lump, he abhors or despises.
Nevertheless, Mr. Crisp had so pitying a humanity for wrongs or
misfortunes that were casual, or that appeared to be incurred without
vice or crime, that, to serve a fellow-creature who called for
assistance, whether from his purse or his kindness, was so almost
involuntarily his common practice, that it was performed as a thing of
course, without emotion or commentary.
Mr. Crisp, at this time, was the chief supporter of Chesington Hall,
which had now lost the long dignity of its title, and was sunk into
plain Chesington, by the death of its last male descendant, Christopher
Hamilton; whose extravagances had exhausted, and whose negligence had
dilapidated the old and venerable domain which, for centuries, had
belonged to his family.
The mansion, and the estate, fell, by law, into the hands of Mrs. Sarah
Hamilton, a maiden sister of Christopher’s. But this helpless ancient
lady was rescued from the intricacies of so involved a succession, by
the skilful counsel of Mr. Crisp; who proposed that she should have the
capacious old house parted nearly in halves, between herself and an
honest farmer, Master Woodhatch; who hired of her, also, what little
remained of grounds, for a farm.
Yet, this done, Mrs. Sarah Hamilton was by no means in a situation
to reside in the share left to her disposal: Mr. Crisp, therefore,
suggested that she should form a competent establishment for receiving
a certain number of boarders; and, to encourage the project, entered
his own name the first upon her list; and secured to his own use a
favourite apartment, with a light and pleasant closet at the end of a
long corridor. This closet, some years afterwards, he devoted to his
friend Burney, for whom, and for his pen, while he was writing the
History of Music, it was held sacred.
And here, in this long-loved rural abode, during the very few intervals
that Mr. Burney could snatch from the toils of his profession, and
the cares of his family, he had resorted in his widowhood, with his
delighted children, to enjoy the society of this most valued and
dearly-loved friend; whose open arms, open countenance, faithful
affection, and enchanting converse, greeted the group with such
expansive glee, that here, in this long-loved rural abode, the Burneys
and happiness seemed to make a stand.