undertakings. She thought her large fortune, and her nephew's long
minority, as it put it in her power, could not be better employed than
in works of national magnificence. The power and wealth of ancient
Greece were most seen and admired in the splendor of the temples, and
other sublime structures of Pericles. He boasted, that every art would
be exerted, every hand employed, every citizen in the pay of the state,
and the city, not only beautified, but maintained by itself. The sums
Lady Frances expended in bringing these plans to perfection, diffused
riches and plenty among the people, and has already doubled the estate.
She has a fine collection of pictures.--The only way to raise a genius
for painting, is to give encouragement: historical painters get so
little by their profession, that we have very few. This Lady Frances
made her particular object, to afford our youth ready access to good
pictures: till these be multiplied in Great Britain, we shall never
have the reputation of producing a good painter. If we expect to rival
the Italian, the Flemish, or even the French school, our artists must
have before their eyes the finished works of the greatest masters. It
is a pity, that when an ingenious gentleman[7] last winter submitted
to the parliament, as worthy of their attention, some considerations
that might tend to the encouragement of useful knowledge, and the
advancement in this kingdom of the arts and sciences, he did not with
his usual intelligence, represent the bad consequences of the duty laid
on pictures imported into Great Britain: Were the bad effects of this
represented to our legislature, it is impossible but it must be amended.
This gentleman took notice in his speech, that a remarkable opportunity
of improving the national taste in _painting_, which was lately lost,
he hoped would now be recovered. The incomparable Sir Joshua Reynolds,
and some other great painters, who do honor to our country, generously
offered to adorn the cathedral of St Paul's (a glorious monument of the
magnificence of our ancestors) with some of their most valuable works:
but the proposition was rejected by the late Bishop of London[8], though
he flatters himself it will be renewed, and accepted by the gentleman
at present in that fee[9], who is not only a man of _solid piety_, but
of the _soundest learning_, and of _exquisite classical taste_. The
great art of human life is not to eradicate the passions, but to adopt
the proper objects of them: if mankind cannot think so abstractedly as
a pure effort of unmixed reason implies, I presume it follows, that
some degree of passion is warrantable in devotion. While we are in our
present imperfect and embodied state, it will be found necessary to
call in _externals_ to our aid, for the proper discharge of religious
worship. Even among those who in their private devotions are most
sincere, external acts and ceremonies, when properly conducted, become
real assistances; because the connection between the body and soul,
between the senses and the imagination, between the passions and the
reason of mankind, is so strong and mutual, that they uniformly act and
re-act upon one another, and mutually raise the soul to new and higher
degrees of fervor.
This was so much Lady Frances's opinion, that she had some fine pieces
of painting in her chapel, which is also a very fine new building; the
architecture and paintings do honor to the artists--She made it a rule
to be constant in her attendance at church. Public acknowledgments of
the goodness of God, and application for his blessings, contribute to
give a whole community suitable apprehensions of him: and these, if it
was her duty to entertain, it was equally her duty to propagate; both as
the regard she paid the divine excellencies was expressed, and as the
same advantage that she received from such apprehensions, was received
by all whom they affected in the same manner.
She had not the smallest degree of superstition, having too much good
sense to imagine the Deity can be persuaded to recede from the settled
laws of the universe, and the immutability of his nature. But she
knows the perfections of God are a ground and sufficient reason for
prayer, and that it is both an act and a means of virtue.[10] She had
a mind free from prejudice, adorned with knowledge, and filled with
the best principles; a noble firmness in showing these principles,
and in maintaining them; in short, every talent joined to the most
amiable modesty. She was advised to call her elegant village by the
name of _Athens_; but this she declined, naming it _Munster Village_:
but she justly thought it deserved it; with this difference, that the
inhabitants are too well informed to give into such gross superstitions,
and so easily suffer themselves to be imposed upon by astrologers,
divines, soothsayers, and many other sorts of conjurers, as the Grecians
did.
They excelled in arts; their laws were wise; they had brought everything
to perfection that makes life easy and agreeable: but they took little
pains in the speculative sciences, geometry, astronomy, and physics.
The anatomy of plants and animals, the knowledge of minerals and
meteors, the shape of the earth, the course of the stars, and the whole
system of the world, were still mysteries to them.
The Chaldeans and Egyptians, who knew something of them, kept it a great
secret and never spoke of them but in riddles; so that until Alexander's
time, and the reign of the Macedonians, they had made no great progress
in such learning as might cure them of superstition. An immoderate love
of the study of astrology, was a weakness which characterized also the
fifteenth century. In the age of Lewis XIV, the court was infatuated
with the notion of judicial astrology: many of the princes, through a
superstitious pride, supposed that nature, to distinguish them, had
writ their destiny in the stars. Victor Amadeus, Duke of Savoy, father
to the Duchess of Burgundy, had an astrologer always with him, even
after his abdication. The same weakness which gave credit to the absurd
chimera, judicial astrology, also occasioned the belief of sorcery and
witchcraft; courts of justice composed of magistrates, who ought to have
had more sense than the vulgar, were employed in trying persons accused
of witchcraft.--Latest posterity must hear with astonishment that the
Madame d'Ancre was burnt at the _Gréve_ as a sorceress. This unfortunate
woman, when questioned by counsellor Courtin concerning the kind of
sorcery she had used to influence the will of Mary de Medecis, having
answered, _She had used that power only which great souls always have
over weak minds_; this sensible reply served only to precipitate the
decree of her death[11].
It must be confessed there is a strong propensity in man's nature, to
assign every thing uncommon to supernatural means. But though I am very
apt to believe there is greater credulity in most minds, than will be
candidly acknowledged, yet the degree of it must be in proportion to
people's ignorance and want of information. Thus the famous doctors of
the faculty at Paris, when John Faustus brought the first printed books
that had then been seen in the world, or at least seen there, and sold
them for manuscripts, were surprised at the performance, and questioned
Faustus about it; but he affirming they were manuscripts, and that he
kept a great many clerks employed to write them, they were satisfied.
Looking further, however, into the work, and observing such an exact
uniformity throughout the whole, that if there was a blot in one, it was
the same in all, etc. etc. etc. their doubts were revived. The learned
divines not being able to comprehend the thing, (and that was always
sufficient) concluded it must be the _devil_; that it was done by magic
and witchcraft; and that, in short, poor Faustus (who was indeed nothing
but a mere printer) dealt with the _devil_.
They accordingly took him up for a _magician_ and a _conjurer_, and
one that worked by the _Black Art_, that is to say, by the help of the
devil--and threatened to hang him; commencing a process against him in
their criminal courts; when the fear of the gallows induced Faustus
to _discover the secret_--that he had been a compositor to Koster of
Harlem, the first inventor of printing.
Gardening made a much slower progress among the ancients, than
architecture. The palace of Alcinous, in the seventh book of the
Odyssey, is grand and highly ornamented; but his garden is no better
than what we call a kitchen garden. This also Lady Frances excelled
in. She had also a receptacle for all sorts of animals to retire to
in their old age. It was of old the custom to bury the favourite dog
near the master. To use those of the brute creation who toil for our
pleasure, or labour for our profit, with hard and ungenerous treatment,
is a species of inhumanity which all men allow to be derogatory from
virtue. The authors of wanton cruelty towards the dumb creation, are
justly execrated for their brutality. It is a crime which I believe many
commit, without either considering the misery it _produces_, or the
guilt _it incurs_: and many more, who in fits of causeless or capricious
displeasure intend to inflict the misery, have yet no sense that they
incur guilt. Lady Frances makes use of buffaloes to draw her ploughs.
These animals are far stronger than oxen, and eat less. Why have we not
them in this country, and dromedaries and camels?
She cultivates India corn, which grows with vast reeds, which is of
great use; and has attempted the culture of rice, and some other things
upon boggy ground, with tolerable success. As our cork used to come from
France, and now grows in Italy, she has tried it here, where it thrives
amazingly; it resembles the evergreen oak, and bears acorns. When you
strip other trees of their bark, they die; but this grows stronger, and
produces a new coat. She leaves nothing unattempted which has a chance
of becoming useful. She also procured sheep from Norway, which are
peculiar from having four horns, and being spotted like deer, with a
coat of substance betwixt the hair and wool, which is admirable for many
uses.
Edward IV has been greatly censured, as taking a very impolitic and
injurious measure in making a present to the King of Spain of some
Cotswold sheep; the breed of which has been very detrimental to the
English woollen manufacture, which has been a national branch of trade
ever since. The celebrated Buffon affirms, that our sheep are very far
removed from their natural state; from which it has been the usual
course of things to decline.
Lady Frances cultivates silk-worms. The ancient Romans for a long time
never dreamed that silk could be produced in their country; and the
first silk ever seen in Greece, was after the conquest of Persia by
Alexander the Great. From thence it was imported into Italy, but was
sold at the rate of an equal weight of gold.[12]
The Persians being the only people of whom it was to be had, would not
permit a single egg or worm to be carried out of their country. Hence
the ancient Greeks and Romans were so little acquainted with the nature
of silk, that they imagined it grew like a vegetable. Holosericum,
or a stuff made of silk only, was worn by none but ladies of the
first rank.[13] But men of the greatest quality, and even princes,
were contented with subsericum, or a stuff made of half silk; to that
Heliogabulus is remarked for being the first who wore holosericum[14].
In the reign of the emperor Justinian, a trial was made for bringing
silk-worms alive to Constantinople, but without success; however, two
monks who had been employed in the affair, repeated the trial with
silk-worms eggs.[15] The experiment succeeded so well, that to this
Constantinopolitan colony, all the silk-worms, and silk manufactures in
Europe owe their existence and origin. Till the middle of the twelfth
century, all the silken stuffs at Rome and other parts of Europe were
of Grecian manufacture. But Roger I. King of Sicily, about the year
1138, invading Greece with a fleet of vessels with two or three benches
of oars, called Galeæ or Sagittæ (from whence are derived the words
galley and saique) and sacking and plundering Corinth, Thebes, and
Athens, brought away to Palermo, among other prisoners, a great number
of silk weavers to instruct his subjects in that art. From them, as
Otto Trisingensis de gestis Frederici, lib. I. cap. 23. informs us, the
Italians soon learnt the method of manufacturing silk.
Lady Frances did not restrain farmers, or the sons of farmers from
shooting, as none are better entitled to game than those whose property
is the support of it.
'See that assemblage of the sons of wealth,
Whose pity and humanity extend
To dumb creation! with what costly care
They study to preserve the brutal race
From _vulgar_ persecution! Truly great
Were such benevolence, could their design
Deserve so laudable a name!--Alas! What are they but
monopolists in blood,
That to themselves endeavour to preserve
Inviolate the cruel privilege
Of slaughter and destruction? What is this
But petty tyranny, th' ambitious child
Of luxury and pride? If Heaven indulge
A right to kill, each free-born Briton sure
May claim his portion of the carnage. All
O'er nature's commoners, by nature's law,
Plead equal privilege: what then supports
This usurpation in the wealthier tribe;
The _qualifying_ acres? no, proud man,
Possessions give not thee superior claim
To that, which equally pertains to all--
Whose property you timid hare, which feeds
In thy inclosure? thine? denied--allow'd,
Yet if the fearful animal be thine,
Because the innocently crops _to-day_
The herbage of thy freehold, whose will be
The claim _to-morrow_, when thy neighbour's soil
Affords her pasturage? Assuming man!
How is the hardy Briton's spirit tam'd
By thy oppressive pride!-when danger comes
Who shall defend thy property? thyself?
No; that poor Briton, whom thou hast undone
By prosecutions--will he not retort,
"What's liberty to me? 'tis lost! 'tis gone!
"If I must be oppress'd, it matters not
"Who are th' oppressors. Shall I hazard life
"For those imperious lordlings, who denied
"That privilege, which Heaven and nature meant
"For food, or sport, or exercise to all?"'
_British Philippic._
Mr Burt devoted his time much to his grand-children, though he was far
from wishing to obtrude too much knowledge on their tender years, as the
mind may be overstrained by too intense application, in the same way as
the body may be weakened by too much exercise before it arrives at its
full strength.
Quintilian compares the understanding of children to vessels into
which no liquor can be poured but drop by drop. But there is a certain
season, when our minds may be enlarged--when a great stock of useful
truths may be acquired--when our passions will readily submit to the
government of reason--when right principles may be so fixed in us, as to
influence every important action of our future lives. If at that period
it is neglected, error or ignorance are, according to the ordinary
course of things, entailed upon us. Our passions gain a strength that
we afterwards vainly oppose--wrong inclinations become too confirmed in
us, that they defeat all our endeavours to correct them. A superior
capacity, an ardent thirst for knowledge, and the finest dispositions,
soon discovered themselves in Lord Munster; particularly a singular
warmth of affection, and disinterestedness of temper. And although
experience evinces, that memory, understanding, and fancy, are seldom
united in one person, yet he is one of those transcendant geniuses, who
is blessed with all three. Mr Burt treated him always with that distant
condescension, which, though it encourages to freedom, commands at the
same time respect. He appeared in different characters to him, that he
might find something new and agreeable in his conversation.
Montaigne says; 'there is nothing like alluring the passions and
affections; otherwise we only make asses loaded with books.' Exquisite
is the fruit produced by a right temperature of the different qualities,
and mixture of the world and philosophy, business and pleasure, dignity
and politeness. The Romans termed it _Urbanitas_, the Greeks _Atticism_.
At the age of sixteen years the Earl of Munster having received every
advantage education could bestow on him, fully answered the most
sanguine expectations his aunt had formed of him. She then insinuated
to him his dependent situation--her own intentions of marrying, the
great expenses she had been at in the various improvements she had made
on the estate, which rendered it necessary for him to apply himself to
business, as it would disable her from doing so much for him as she
would have inclined: that as she had bestowed on him every advantage of
education, the alternative before him was that of _application_ on his
part, or the utmost severity of _censure_ on that of the world.
Lady Frances adopted this plan with Lord Munster to keep him ignorant of
her intentions in his favor, that she might not obstruct his exerting
all his physical and moral strength in acquiring that knowledge and
virtue he at present so eminently possesses. Though a man of rank born
to a large fortune may have fine natural parts, yet it takes a great
deal to make him a _great man_. His splendid titles and large estate,
are in some degree a bar to those acquirements, as he rests secure in
his rank and independent fortune. How would the number of the nobility
be reduced, were only those allowed to assume that title who could make
good their claim to it by the distinguished endowments which raised
the founder of the family? A man of rank who is a jockey at Newmarket
rises no higher in my estimation than the lowest mechanic. Men of
literature are the only nobility known in China: In other countries
the laws inflict punishment _on criminal actions_: there, they do
more; _they reward virtue_. If the fame of a generous action is spread
in a province, the mandarin is obliged to acquaint the emperor, who
presently sends a badge of honor to the person who has so well deserved
it. Be their birth ever so low, they become mandarins of the highest
rank, in proportion to the extent of their worth or learning. On the
other hand, be their birth ever so exalted, they quickly sink into
poverty and obscurity if they neglect there studies which raised their
fathers.[16][17]
The care, attention, and labour incumbent on men for their support,
invigorate both the soul and the body, and they are the natural causes
of health and sagacity. Virtue itself would be indolent if she had no
passions to conquer and regulate. It is every way our advantage that
we have no such slothful paradise as the poets feigned in the golden
age: and the alledged blemishes in nature, are either the unavoidable
accompanyments or consequences of a structure, and of laws subservient
to advantages, which quite over-balance these inconveniences, or
sometimes the direct and natural means of obtaining those advantages.
The situation of the King of Sardinia, environed on all sides with
powerful monarchs, obliges him to act with the greatest circumspection;
which circumstance seems to have formed the character of that house.--As
Lady Frances was desirous of her nephew's understanding commerce, she
proposed his becoming a merchant:--with great modesty, and deference
for her opinion, he submitted to her, whether the confined maxims of a
trader were not destructive of the social virtues; if they did not tend
to destroy those refined feelings of the soul that distinguish man from
man?[18] She answered, 'What situation is like that of a man, who with
one stroke of a pen makes himself obeyed from one end of the world to
the other? his name, his signature, has no necessity, like the army of
a Sovereign, for the value of metal to come to the assistance of the
impression: himself does all; he has signed, and that is enough.'
Lord Munster replied, 'that there were two ranks in life he should
prefer as more suitable to the title he bore, though unaccompanied
by fortune, the magistrate who supports the laws, or that of the
soldier who defends his country!' Highly charmed with his sentiments,
it required no small resolution for his aunt, who fondly loved him,
to support the character she had assumed; but recollecting herself,
observed, that it was not unusual for men of high birth to enrich their
family _by trade_.
When the Earl of Oxford was at the head of affairs in England, his
brother was a factor at Aleppo; and if Lord Townshend was respected in
parliament as a secretary of state, his brother was no less regarded
in the city as a merchant. Without giving way, added she, to ideas of
birth, you may be happy, and by your temper, application, and personal
accomplishments, make a figure in life without the aid of such an
accidental _appendage_; and by your attainments and engaging qualities
obtain a general esteem, the surest step to advancement and honor.
Lord Munster seemed _convinced_, though not allured by her arguments,
yielding himself to her guidance, with that sweetness of disposition,
which though so amiable in itself is so much to be apprehended. For
those dispositions of the mind, which are generally termed virtuous, are
frequently the occasion of our falling into vices, from which opposite
ones, though generally condemned, would have secured us.
In pursuance of Lady Frances's plan, Lord Munster was sent to Holland,
where he was boarded for two years in a creditable family in Amsterdam,
as the best school for learning, temperance, economy, and every domestic
virtue.
Men of all climates and religions being also natives of Holland, gave
him liberal notions and enlarged ideas; their earth is as free as their
air. Their toleration of religion, indeed, is so extreme, it amounts
to a total unconcern about them. At the same communion, in the same
church, some receive sitting, others standing, or kneeling; and this
freedom appeared to that crafty people, such unquestionable policy, that
it came in from common sense alone, and passed without a law.[19] To
this cause is assigned the number of inhabitants; as the land fit for
tillage in Holland does not exceed four hundred thousand acres[20]. This
country in itself furnishes an illustration of the plan Lady Frances
was following with her nephew. Industry, honesty, and concern for the
public welfare, made the inhabitants considerable. If they depart from
these, and if the sea returns upon them, their having existed will be
known only from tradition and books. The preservation of both Egypt and
Holland depends upon the care they take of their dykes, and canals;
but there is no work in the former so great as the building such a
city as Amsterdam upon piles in the sea[21]. Venice also furnishes a
striking instance of what wonders may be effected by industry: that out
of a morass, a city of such splendor could be raised, and become the
emporium of Europe, as it was before the discovery of the East and West
Indies, is extraordinary. But this trade decayed, as that of Holland
increased: almost all merchandizes which came from the Mediterranean
were formerly landed at Venice, and from thence brought to Augsburg;
from which place, they were dispersed through all Germany. But Holland
has taken away all, and distributes all; and Augsburg suffers, as well
as Venice, Milan, Antwerp, and an infinite number of other cities,
which are at _present_ as _poor_ as _formerly_ they _were rich_. This
furnishes an excellent example of the benefits arising from industry,
and the necessity of exertion. Lord Munster rendered himself entirely
master of the knowledge of our English trade and privileges. He also
attained a competent skill in the history of jurisprudence[22]. As it is
requisite for every man who has leisure and capacity for such researches
to be acquainted with the nature and extent of that judicial authority
which is to decide upon his person and property, and to which as a
citizen he is bound to submit, he studied the English constitution and
government in the ancient books of common law, and more modern writers,
who out of them have given an account of this government. He next
proceeded to the history of England, and with it joined in every king's
reign the laws then made----This gave him insight into the reason of
our statutes, and shewed him the true ground upon which they came to
be made, and what weight they ought to have. By this means he read the
history of his own country with intelligence, and was able to examine
into the _excellence_ or _defects_ of its _government_, and to judge of
the _fitness_ or _unfitness_ of its _orders_ and _laws_: and by this
method he knows enough of the English law for a gentleman, though quite
ignorant of the _chicane_ or wrangling, and captious part of it, or the
arts how to _avoid_ doing _right_, and to _secure himself_ in _doing
wrong_. As Lord Munster was now eighteen years of age, Lady Frances
wrote and acquainted him, that as he had rather testified a dislike
to the mercantile scheme, she desired he would relinquish it; and as
nothing contributes more to enlighten and improve the understanding,
than a personal acquaintance with foreign climates, she desired he would
travel.--The man who by his birth-right is a free member of society,
not a slave to despotic power, and who, in matters of religion, enjoys
the invaluable blessing of private judgment, should not fail to visit
other nations; for this will not only rub off all the selfish asperities
he may have contracted from a narrow survey of things, but will also
accompany him home with a more rational attachment to that constitution
under which he had the happiness to be born. Heaven has placed us in
a most advantageous situation; unless we are divided at home, attacks
from abroad may molest but cannot ruin us. Our laws are the laws of
freedom; our merchandise the traffic of opulence----Our constitution is
framed and joined together by the choicest parts, picked and extracted
from aristocracies, democracies, and sovereignties. We have a natural
force to _defend_ and _maintain_ the empire of the seas. We enjoy
wealth and possessions in both the Indies, if we do not lose them by
our own misconduct----We boast at regular choice, and singular system
of parliamentary government, so nicely calculated, as to be at once the
defence and the support of the kingdom and the people. Our Sovereign has
the power--but the parliament has still the law of that power[23].--What
people on earth can say the same? The studies Lord Munster made of our
constitution, when contrasted with his observations of other countries,
made him return after three years, not a _nominal_, but a _real_
patriot. This is not always the case. Too many of our young gentlemen
bring home only a miserable reverse of every good purpose for which
they were sent out:--as none travel more than the English, they ought,
therefore, to let none surpass them in manly or generous perceptions.
But we have reason to fear that what Mr Pope observes of _one_ of them
may be applicable to _most_.
'_Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too._'
Is not this owing to their early visiting France, where slavery is so
artfully gilded over as to hide its natural deformity? If our countrymen
were first to make the tour of Denmark, where the people are more
apparently slaves, it would remedy this evil. On the contrary, when the
subject of an arbitrary government has travelled into countries which
enjoy the inestimable advantages of civil and religious liberty, he
returns with a diminished affection for his own, and learns to despise
and dislike that constitution which denies him the enjoyment of those
natural rights, the knowledge and the value of which he has learnt from
his happier neighbours.
Hence it is that despotic princes are cautious how they permit their
subjects to _range abroad_; and for the reasons above intimated,
travelling has ever been encouraged in free states.
With the finest person, Lord Munster possessed all the virtues and the
graces----was all complacency in his manners, all sweetness in his
disposition; humane, susceptible, and compassionate.
While Lady Frances had taken so much care of his education, it may
be readily supposed she was not forgetful of Lady Eliza's, his
sister--whose person is faultless, and of the middle size--her face is
a sweet oval, and her complexion the _brunette_ of the bright kind.
The finest passions are always passing in her face; and in her lovely
eyes there is a fluid fire sufficient to animate a score of inanimate
beauties. She has a clear understanding, and a sound judgment; has read
a great deal, and has a most happy elocution: possesses a great share of
wit, and with equal strength and propriety can express the whole series
of the passions in comic characters. The pliableness of her dispositions
can raise and keep up agreeable sensations, and amuse her company.
Lord L---- declares he never saw anything equal to her, even on the
French stage, in the article of transition from passion to passion
in comic life. She is perfect mistress of music, and plays admirably
well on the harpsicord; having great neatness, and more expression and
meaning in her playing, than is often found among lady-players.--In
this, as in every other branch of her education, she has had every
advantage--Lady Frances herself being highly accomplished--and her
long residence in Italy and France having perfected and improved her
taste, in every accomplishment that can embellish or add graces to
the youth and beauty of her niece--All her musical band have been the
pupils of the first masters, and recommended to her by Santirelli,
Jomelli, Galuppi, Piccini, and Sacchini. It is not then surprising that
the works of these different masters are performed admirably well at
Munster-house; and as there is great variety in their manner, there
is that in every one of them to charm and please the most insensible.
Lady Frances is highly charmed with Jomelli; while the fancy, fire,
and feeling of Galuppi, and Piccini's comic style, are infinitely
more attracting to Lady Eliza, than the taste, learning, great and
noble ideas of Jomelli, or the serious style of Sacchini.--One of
the Bezzodzi's, from Turin who excels on the hautboy, is also at
Munster-house.
There is also a set of very excellent actors, who perform at the
Tribuna, judging the representation of dramatic works of genius
contribute as much to soften manners, as the exhibition of the
Gladiators formerly did to harden them. When we complain of the
_licentiousness_ of the stage, I fear we have more reason to complain of
_bad measures_ in our policy, and a general decay of _virtue_ and _good
morals_ among us.
Moliere's comedies are said to have done more service to the courtiers,
than the sermons of Bourdalone and Massillon. The great Saint
Chrysostom, a name consecrated to immortality by his virtue, is thought
to owe a great part of his eloquence and vehemence in correcting vice,
to his constantly reading Aristophanes; nor was he even censured on that
account, in those times of pure zeal, and primitive religion.
Lord Shaftesbury says, 'Bigotry hurries us away into the most furious
excesses, upon trifles of no manner of consequence.' What is more
useful to a nation than the picture of strong passions, and their fatal
effects; of great crimes, and their chastisement; of great virtues,
and their reward? Scarce had Peter the Great polished Russia, before
theatres were established there. The more Germany has improved, the more
of our dramatic representations has it adopted. Those few places, where
they were not received in the last age, are never ranked among civilized
countries: and theatrical entertainments have their use everywhere, and
often keep the common people from a worse employment of their time--and
so far were the institution of theatres from being the fore-runners of
slavery, or the badges of despotism, that they were most encouraged, and
flourished best in free states.
It is easy to conceive that the acquaintance of Lady Frances was much
courted, as no private person had it so much in their power to entertain
their company so well; there being every requisite at Munster-house to
delight the heart, please the eyes, and satisfy the understanding.--No
person of any taste but would blush to acknowledge they have not been in
Shropshire to admire her buildings, manufactures, schools, etc.--And it
fares with her merit like the pictures of Raphael, which are seen with
admiration by all, or at least no one dare own that he has no taste for
a composition which has received so universal an applause.
Upon Lord Munster's being of age, she was thirty-seven; yet the
regularity of her life contributed to make her lose no more in her
person than what might be considered as the slight touches in a picture,
which when faded diminish nothing of the master-strokes of the piece.
Lord Darnley, since the time he had expected to become Lady Frances's
husband, still continued to attach himself to her. 'Whatever her
determinations may be,' said he, 'I am sensible of the value of her
soul; her friendship is more tender than the endearment of love in other
women.' Such forbearances were not uncommon in ages of chivalry; and
however justly ridiculed by the inimitable _Cervantes_, when carried to
extremes, and terminating in Quixotism, yet it appears to constitute
a capital part of the character of _a true_ knight. Lord Darnley's
attachment to Lady Frances was not founded on the weakness of his
intellects; it never made him forgetful of his duties to society. He is
at the same time a philosopher and a politician; and adds practice to
speculation, experience to knowledge, in both these departments. Though
the brilliant actions of some heroes are only handed down to us, and
we view their characters through the magnifying end of the tube, yet
Hercules himself could lay aside his club, and amuse himself with the
distaff, to enjoy the company of the woman he loved. All great souls
have descended occasionally, and divesting themselves of their heroism,
have become susceptible of the _tender passion_.
Lady Frances respected Lord Darnley's character, as much as she loved
his person; and the time was now arrived when she proposed ingenuously
to confess to him the reasons of her past conduct, and to offer to
dedicate the remainder of her life in rewarding his tender, fond,
faithful attentions. But she suspected that--years had made such an
alteration in her person, that she ceased to be an object _of love_,
(to his lordship) although perfectly convinced she possessed _his
esteem_--Under this apprehension it became impossible for her to act
the part she intended--She became disquieted, and was determined, had
that really been the case, never to have allied herself to any other.
After revolving a thousand things, she at last determined to confirm or
confute her hopes, by employing a particular friend, and a relation of
Lord Darnley's, to discover his sentiments. Lady Frances's intimacy with
this lady had commenced at Paris, when they were in the convent of the
----. As her character is peculiar, the indulgent reader will perhaps
pardon the introduction of her story in this place.
At the time Lady Frances returned to England, Mrs Lee was taken out of
the convent to be married. Her parents, dazzled with Mr Lee's wealth,
forgot to attend to other requisites to render that state happy. Without
his being a man of very shining parts, he had such talents as made
him acceptable to women, in particular to a girl so young as she was
when this alliance took place. He sung and danced well, was lively to
extravagance, full of agreeable trifling, and always in good humour:
add to this, he was handsome in his person, liberal to excess, and
calculated for the seduction of the fair. Mrs Lee's great beauty, her
parents partially flattered themselves would fix his affections.--All
the graces of which the figure and emotions of a female were capable,
were united in her; but his love for her was nothing but an impulse
of passion which soon subsided. Addicted by his natural disposition
to pleasure, he despised those which a tender sensibility renders
so exquisitely delightful; such would have trespassed too much on
his vanity. Unexperienced and artless, his innocent wife could not
long retain his affections, and in the few years she lived with him,
encountered many mortifications; first from the alienation of his
affections, afterwards from the distressed situation of his affairs,
which entirely changed his temper, rendering him impatient and
passionate. His very footmen were taught to insult her, and every one
in the family knew the most effectual way to ingratiate themselves with
him, was to disregard his wife. Yet she bore it all with patience,
and acted her part with prudence, endeavouring to disarm his anger
with gentleness. She sometimes, indeed, lamented and complained, but
the dove and the lamb do so too--'The poison of grief exhales only in
complaints.'--She was neither sullen nor gay when he was out of humour;
nor impertinent or melancholy when he was pleased--She obliged her
affections to wait and submit to the various turns of his temper--trying
to bribe his passions to her interest. She endeavoured also, by economy
and proper attention, to retard as long as possible, the ruin that
threatened him; and considerably diminished the household expenses.
This pleased her husband; he wanted to retrench, without appearing
less magnificent; for his prudence (or rather his desire of saving at
home to squander abroad) was still subordinate to his ostentation. But
all these innocent stratagems were ineffectual; spending his whole
time between women, racing, and gaming, one excess succeeded another,
until his affairs were intirely involved. Previous to this, Mrs Lee had
resigned her jewels to pay one of his game debts, which she afterwards
saw adorning a girl he kept. The world saw he devoted himself only to
objects of contempt, and pitied his neglect of a woman of her merit,
and who was still handsome, having that style of beauty which is the
image of a sensible heart, though sorrow and tears had deprived it of
its freshness. This laid her open to the assiduity of men of gallantry,
who are generally obliging enough, upon such occasions, to offer their
assistance to dry up a _pretty woman's tears_. It is to be confessed a
woman under these circumstances is in a very _dangerous situation_.
None of Mr Lee's conduct was founded on propriety--he was witty, kind,
cold, angry, easy, stiff, jealous, careless, cautious, confident,
close, open, but all _in the wrong place_. She often retired into her
closet, and wept the silent hours away for his hard-heartedness--yet
without one unkind word or reproach. Her parents were dead, Lady
Frances at a distance, her sorrows of a complicated kind, which
required great delicacy to discover; she had no person to open her
heart to, none to whom she could pour forth the sorrows of the soul!
she had a susceptible heart, and no object she took any interest in,
or who participated in her trials.--This situated, (the candid must
acknowledge) she was perhaps more to be _pitied_ than _blamed_, in
permitting another object to glide insensibly into her affections--more
especially as he was introduced by Mr Lee, as one to whom she was
indebted for his life and fortune.
_The first_ he had defended, when two gamblers, his adversaries, were
on the point of killing him; _the last_ he had preserved by discovering
a scheme that had been practised on him by them when inebriated by
liquor, to which he was much addicted. Her husband left her young and
unexperienced heart to all the tortures and pangs of jealousy, and
that _ennui_ attending an unoccupied heart; after flattering herself,
as she had done nothing to deserve the estrangement of his affections,
that they would be as permanent as her own. Why did he forsake her; why
did he lay her open to temptations? her heart might have been his own,
had he not cruelly abandoned her--at any rate it was too good to form
another tye, had he not at last added _contempt_ to _neglect_ and his
cruel usage at last would have animated a statue, at least I may safely
declare nothing warmed with flesh and blood could bear it. A man of this
humour is to be beloved only in the way of christianity--that is the
utmost obedience which can be allowed to the commandments of God, and
the authority of religion.
Were I obliged to draw a picture that should represent the happy union
between an elevated soul, a penetrating mind, and a heart in which sweet
humanity resides, I would form it entirely of the person and features of
Mr Villars; and I fancy that all who had any just idea of those three
qualities might perceive them plainly expressed in his form, look,
and demeanor. Mr Lee pressed him to be much at his house; and as his
_innocent_, though _oppressed_, wife had been kept in constant alarms
concerning the consequences of his gaming----she could not but look on
Mr Villars as the favour of her fortune, and on one to whom she might
be indebted for her husband's reformation. I shall not expatiate on the
sweetness and charms of his voice, of his noble appearance, and of the
tincture of melancholy which softens the vivacity of his fine eyes; but
what distinguishes him from most other men is the sentimental look of
modest virtue, which never gives offence. He is not in the least a slave
to interest; but as he is no stranger to the necessities of life, his
conduct is always regular, and he never abandons himself to any excess.
Such is and was Mr Villars. Mrs Lee very soon perceived his partiality
for her--circumstanced as she was, his attentions were dangerous--but
she could not with any propriety forbid him _a house_ to which her
husband so constantly _invited him_, without letting him see she
mistrusted herself--more especially as he never failed in his respect
for her.
He became her only comforter and friend; and if from her youth and
inexperience she was likely to fall into even the appearance of any
error, it was this kind, this friendly monitor that guarded her from it.
His attentions became as necessary to her soul, as aliments of food
are to the support of the body, while the respectful distance of his
behaviour proved to her his passion was controlled by his respect.
Some surmises were at length insinuated to Mr Lee, to his wife's
dishonour. He paid little attention to them--but coming home one night
flushed with wine, and finding Mr Villars alone at supper with her, (no
unusual matter, and by his own request) he drew his sword, and wounded
him before he had time to defend himself! Mrs Lee fainted away----on her
recovery she removed herself from a house to which no entreaties on his
part could prevail on her to return--declaring she would live no longer
with a man who could at once suspect her virtue, endanger his friend's
life, and ruin her reputation.
The world talked differently about this affair. Should not the example
of the law be followed, which is so tender in criminal cases, that
delinquents are often found _not guilty_, for want of legal evidence,
at the same time that the court, the jury, and every one present at the
trial feel the strongest _moral_ conviction of their _guilt_? Scandal
on the contrary always gives its most important and fatal decisions
from _appearances_ and _suppositions_, though reputation is dearer to
a woman of honor than life itself. Mrs Lee experienced the malevolence
of her own sex particularly. What, said they, could engage Mr Villars
to devote all his time to her? is not friendship between a man and a
woman a chimera, the mark of a passion which honor or self-interest bids
them conceal? But whilst the world represented this affair in the worst
colours, Lady Frances wrote her an affectionate letter, offering her
assistance, and begging she would communicate her real situation, that
she might the more effectually be enabled to serve her; to which Mrs
Lee returned the following answer.
'Dear Madam.
I received the honor of your letter, and find myself elevated by
your notice--if there can be pride that ranks with virtues, it is
that we feel from friendships with the worthy. The liberal sentiments
you express, are a proof of the goodness of your heart----I have ever
thought that to believe the worst is a mark of a mean spirit, and a
wicked soul; at least I am sure, that the contrary quality, when it
is not due to weakness of understanding, is the fruit of a generous
temper. In return for your generosity, I will lay open my whole heart
to you; and if in consequence I lose your esteem, I shall at least
have the satisfaction resulting from a consciousness of my candour.
This is a liberty I should have taken before, had it not proceeded
from the timidity I felt in unbosoming myself to one whose virtues
I dreaded, and in discovering _my weakness_ to one who I think has
_none of her own_. Your ladyship knows the trials I suffered for many
years; my conduct under the severest mortifications human nature could
sustain. I was wounded in my affections, condemned and insulted in
my person, impoverished in my circumstances: I still had strength of
mind to regulate myself so as to meet your approbation: no species
of calamity was unknown to me, nor were there wanting those of the
other sex, who judged from my situation they might have a chance of
succeeding with me, if I was weak enough to listen to them--but they
soon gave up the pursuit, judging the excess of my misfortunes had
hardened my heart entirely against certain impressions. But this was
so far from being the case, that my sorrows, my sufferings, rendered
my heart (naturally tender) more susceptible of that refined passion,
which, when dignified by respect, and softened by tenderness, found so
ready access to it[24].
In short, circumstanced as I was, if it is a crime to love, I am
very culpable! but had I unfortunately proceeded to any act contrary
to my engagements with Mr Lee, I myself would have acquainted him with
it, though, in the opinion of many, he would not have deserved so much
candour from me.
This being the real state of the case, I flatter myself your
ladyship will think me more _weak_ than _wicked_, more _frail_ than
_culpable_, more _unfortunate_ than _indiscreet_. And I must now
acquaint you, that I am determined never to return to my husband--I
have consulted my reason on this subject, and when we have done
so, whatever the decision be, whether in favour of our prejudices,
or against them, we must rest satisfied, since nothing can be more
certain than this, that he who follows that guide in the search of
truth, as that was given to direct him, will have a much better plea
to make for his conduct, than he who has resigned himself implicitly
to the guidance of others. My maxim is, our understanding, _properly_
exercised, is the _medium_ by which God makes known his _will_ to us;
and that in all _cases_, the voice of impartial reason is the _voice
of_ God. Were my marriage even to be annulled, all the theologians
in the world could not prove the least impiety in it.--Milton wrote
_the doctrine and discipline of divorce_; wherein he proves, that a
contrariety of mind, destructive of felicity, peace, and happiness,
are greater reasons of divorce than adultery, especially if there be
no children, and there be a mutual consent for separation.
He dedicated the second edition to the parliament of England, with
the assembly of divines----The latter summoned him before the house
of Lords, who, whether approving his doctrine, or not favouring his
accusers, dismissed him. Necessary and just causes have necessary and
just consequences: what error and disaster joined, reason and equity
should disjoin.
I see no reason why those who upon the evidence of more than
fourteen years experience are unsuited to each other, _joined_
not _matched_, should live disagreeably together, and exist
miserably--merely for the inadequate satisfaction of exulting upon
the degree of their patience in having to say they did _not part_.
A person may mistake in fixing love without knowledge of the party,
but he cannot err that finds cause to dislike from woeful experience.
It is, indeed, convenient for the lords of the creation to inculcate
another doctrine, upon the same principles that the extreme and
timorous attention to his own security made James I. very anxious
to infuse into his subjects the belief of divine hereditary right,
and a scrupulous unreserved obedience _to the power which God had
set over them_. Mr Villars, who is now reconciled with my husband,
has written to intercede in his behalf, assuring me of his penitence
and affection. Boileau has observed, that it is an easy matter in a
_Christian poem_ for _God_ to bring _the devil to reason_. Could I
believe that all my husband did, were the effects of love, it would
not in the least alter my resolution, since I should consider a
person whose affection had such dreadful effects, as dangerous to
my repose, as one whose anger was implacable.----What signifies it
to me whether it be love or hatred by which I suffer, if the danger
and inconvenience be the same? I am certain were we to live together
again, whenever we met we should as naturally quarrel as the elephant
and the rhinoceros. Reconciliations in the marriage state, after
violent breaches, are seldom lasting, and after what has passed
between us, like the father of the gods and the queen of heaven, we
shall be the best company when _asunder_.
He says his conduct proceeded from an excess of love! I desire to
be subject no more to such excesses! I am content to be moderately
beloved; nor shall I ever again give occasion for such extraordinary
proofs of affection. Were I to act otherwise, it would afford too much
encouragement for the men to use their wives ill. _Too good subjects
are apt to make bad kings._ He has my consent to live with any
woman who can delight in such a _loving husband_, while I will force
him to esteem my conduct, and irritate his animosity by declining a
reconciliation. We are tired with perpetual gratitude, and perpetual
hatred.----He wishes to be reconciled to me, not from any religious
motive, or return of affection, his animosity being still the
same--but because he is tired of acting the part of a provoked husband.
I am piqued at Mr Villars's interesting himself in this matter. I
shall not answer his letter for a week; I mistrust my own vivacity.
Our imagination is often our greatest enemy: I am striving to weary
mine before I act. Business like fruit hath its time of maturity,
and we should not think of dispatching it while it is half ripe. The
Cardinal de Retz said, 'I have all my life-time held men in greater
esteem for what they forbore to do on some occasions than for what
they did.'
I have here a most delightful dwelling----It is thatched, and
covered on every side with roses, wood-bines, and honey-suckles,
surrounded with a garden of the most artful confusion. The streams all
around murmur, and fall a thousand ways. A great variety of birds are
here collected, and are in high harmony on the sprays. The ruins of an
abbey enhance the beauties of this place: they appear at the distance
of four hundred yards from the house; and as some great trees are now
grown up among the remains, and a river winds among the broken walls,
the view is solemn, the picture fine. Here I often meditate on my
misfortunes.
'There is a joy in grief when peace dwells
in the breast of the sad.'
OSSIAN'S Poems.
Sadness receives so many eulogiums in the scripture, that it is easy
to judge, that if it be not of the number of the virtues, it may be
usefully employed in their service----and it may be truly observed,
that without experiencing sorrow, we should never know life's true
value.
About a mile above the house is a range of very high hills, the
sight of which renders me less incredulous of the accounts of Olympus,
and mount Athos. Hygeia resides here, and dispenses the chief
blessings of life, ease and health. I will pass my days in sweet
tranquillity and study.
'In either place 'tis folly to complain,
The mind, and not the place, creates the pain.'
HORACE, lib. i. epist. 14.
Could I flatter myself I should ever be honored by your presence,
how happy I should be!----Your eye, I am sure, would catch pleasure
while it measures the surrounding landscape (even at this season
of the year) of russet lawns and grey fallows, on which stray the
nibbling flocks: the mountains too, which seem to support the
labouring clouds, add sublimity to the charming scene. When I take a
walk after a sedentary occupation, I feel a sensible pleasure; rest
in its turn becomes agreeable, if it has been preceded by a moderate
fatigue. Every action of our lives may be converted into a kind of
pleasure, if it is but well timed: Life owes all its joys to this
well-adapted succession; and he will never enjoy its true relish,
who does not know to blend pleasure with dissipation. I ask pardon
for detaining your ladyship so long--My cousin Lord Darnley has been
to see, and admires my cottage.--I perceive plainly he flatters
himself that you will one day make him happy. I do not presume to
offer my advice; it would be imitating the savage chief, who marks
out to the sun the course it is to take----but surely his respectful,
uninterrupted attachment deserves your consideration. Were I not
perfectly convinced of his worth and sincerity, I should be _the last_
person to speak in his behalf. The bitterness of conjugal repentance,
which I have experienced, is beyond all others poignant; and happy it
is if _disunion_, rather than perpetual _disagreement_, results from
it.
I ever am your ladyship's
Obliged and affectionate friend,
LUCY LEE.'
Lady Frances returned Mrs Lee immediately the following answer.
'Dear Madam, Munster-house.
I return you many thanks for the confidence you honored me with;
and I sincerely sympathize with you on the many disagreeable events
that have occurred to you. If my approbation can confer on you any
satisfaction, you possess it in a very eminent degree: for though I
cannot approve of your sentiments concerning divorce, etc. yet your
conduct in your family was exemplary.
There is no reasoning about the motions of the heart. Reflection and
sensation are extremely different--our affections are not in our own
power, though yours seem to have been under proper regulations.
I am not surprised at the calumny you met with. Many people stoop
to the baseness of discovering in a person distinguished by eminent
qualities, the weaknesses of humanity, while there is scarcely to be
found an honest heart, who knows how to render a noble and sincere
homage to another's superiority. I acknowledge myself guilty with
respect to you, of a too common instance of injustice, that of
desiring that others would always _conduct themselves_ by our maxims!
I am the more culpable, as I entirely agree with you in thinking that
all our actions should proceed from the fixed principles we have
adopted. I never pay a blind deference to the judgment of any man, or
any body of men whatever. I cannot acquiesce in a decision, however
formidable made by numbers, where my own reason is not satisfied. When
the mind has no _data_, no settled principles to which it may recur
as the rule of action, the agent can feel little or no satisfaction
within himself, and society can have no moral security whatever
against him.
The most permanent, the most pleasing enjoyment the human soul is
capable of entertaining, is that which arises from a consciousness
of having acted up to that standard of rectitude which we conceive
to be the proper measure of our duty: and the best grounds on which
we can expect others to place confidence in us, is the assurance we
give them that we act under the influence of such moral obligations.
This principle has influenced my conduct: and as you say you are
absolutely determined never to live with your husband again; although
my sentiments do not correspond with yours on that head, I will add
nothing further on that subject, but refer you to certain passages
in scripture, which I think on sober reflection must invalidate your
present opinion[25].
The caprice you have often tacitly blamed me for respecting Lord
Darnley, had you known the motives for, you would have approved--I
will now in reward for your candour _to me_ be equally sincere _with
you_--trusting to your honor, that you will not _divulge_ what is it
so material to me to _conceal_.
At the time I agreed to give Lord Darnley my hand, I was at liberty
to indulge my inclinations, and to devote myself entirely to him:
But on my father's death, when I found the estate in my possession,
I considered myself as mother to my brother's children. This was my
motive for rejecting the man I (_did_, and do _now_) fondly love: who
by his generous and friendly, his respectful and tender behaviour,
deserves every thing from me. Whoever pretends to be without passions,
censures the wisdom of that Power which made him; and if men of sense
(for they alone are capable of refined pleasure) would so far admit
love, as not to exclude their necessary and more important duties,
they need not be ashamed to indulge one of the most valuable blessings
of an innocent life. I honor the married state: and have high ideas of
the happiness resulting from an union of hearts. Domestic society is
founded on the union betwixt husband and wife. Among all the civilized
nations, this union hath been esteemed sacred and honorable; and from
it are derived those exquisite joys, or sorrows, which can embitter
all the pleasures, or alleviate all the pains in human life. The
heart has but a certain degree of sensibility, which we ought to be
economists of. Lord Darnley engrossed my whole soul; nothing could
afford me any pleasure which had no reference to him.--He was ever
uppermost in my thoughts, and I bestowed only a secondary reflection
on all other subjects.
I could have cheerfully, for his _conversation_, abandoned all
society on earth beside, and have been more blessed, than if, for
them, I had been deprived of _his_. But if we suffer one particular
duty (even the worship of the Deity) to engross us entirely, or even
to encroach upon the rest, we make but a very imperfect essay towards
religion, or virtue; and are still at a considerable distance from
the business of a moral agent. "The dial that mistells one hour, of
consequence is false through the whole round of day."
_Virtue_, in my acceptation, is nothing else than that principle
by which our actions are _intentionally directed_, to produce good,
to the several objects of our free agency. I was aware, that it was
not only necessary that I should mean to act a right part, and take
the best way which could direct me to effect it, but that I should
previously take those measures which were in my power to acquire the
knowledge of my duty, and of the weaknesses I had to guard against.
I was sensible, that, had I given my hand to Lord Darnley, I would
have been defective in the duties incumbent on me to my own family:--
Love would have taken entire possession of my soul, and shut up the
avenues of my heart against every other sentiment. Upon this occasion
I felt how justly the sacrifice of our own happiness is placed among
the highest virtues. How painful must it be to the most generous
heart! Men lose their lives to honor--I relinquished my love--the
life of life. I am sensible I have been condemned for permitting him
to be so much with me: but what recompence can the world bestow on
me, for relinquishing the society of a real and tender friend? Common
attachments, the shadows of friendship, the issue of chance, or
fantastic likings, _rashly cemented_, may as hastily be _dissolved_:
but mine has had the purest virtue for its basis, and will subsist
whilst vital breath in me remains. My affections are founded on those
amiable qualities, which are seldom united, and therefore but little
liable to be displaced. My partiality is founded on esteem: take away
the cause, the effect will cease. The dread of the world has never yet
withheld me from following the bent of my own inclinations, and the
dictates of my own heart, not the dread of censure ever influenced my
conduct.
Your mention of his continued attachment is highly flattering, and
very pleasing--There you touched the tenderest springs of my heart,
bring me down to all the softness of my sex, and press upon me a crowd
of tender, lovely, ideas--
If the consciousness of good-will to others, though inactive, be
highly delightful, what a superior joy have I not experienced, my
dear friend, in exerting this disposition, in acts of beneficence!
Is not this the supreme enjoyment in nature? It is true, the great
works I have carried on, the encouragement I have given to learning,
the manufactories I have introduced into this kingdom, etc. etc. have
procured me the suffrage of the world, and may transmit my name down
to posterity. But what flatters me most is, that if I have acquired
any fame, it is derived from the man I love. My acquaintance with him,
has been a happiness to my mind, because it has improved and exalted
its powers. The epithet of _great_, so liberally bestowed on princes,
would, in most cases, if narrowly scanned, belong rather to their
ministers. Unassisted by Agrippa and Mecænas, where should we have
placed Augustus? What is the history of Lewis XIII. but the shining
acts of Richelieu? Lewis XIV. was indeed a great king; but the Condés,
the Turennes, as well as the Luvois, and Colberts, had no small share
in acquiring the glories of his reign. In all situations of life, it
is of great consequence to make a right choice of those we confide
in--It is on that choice our own glory and peace depend.--But it is
still more so to princes, or persons of large property. A private man
will find a thousand persons ready to open his eyes, by reproaching
him with the wrong steps into which bad advice drew him; whereas
courtiers, or those who are interested, approve and applaud whatever
the prince or the great person does. An ingenious courtier replied to
his friend, who upbraided him with his too great complaisance for the
emperor who had made bad verses, which he commended; "Would you have
me have more sense than a man who commands twelve legions, and can
banish me?"
That day my nephew is of age, I shall assign over his estate, and
acquaint him of his obligations to Lord Darnley, to whom, at the same
time, I shall offer my hand, if I have reason then to think it shall
be agreeable to him. If it should not, I shall be mortified, though I
shall not deck my brow with the plaintive willow. I need not tell you
how agreeable it will be for me to see you at this place, which is
considerably improved since you were here last. This day month I give
a feast, in imitation of the Saturnalia[26]; make me happy by your
presence on that occasion.
I remain, with great esteem,
Your affectionate friend,