lye.--At my first knowledge of you--I was convinced that Providence
had been partial in the talents entrusted to you--therefore I
expected exertion on your side--and I am not disappointed; go
on, my honest heart, go on!--hold up the mirror to an effeminate
gallimawfry----insipid, weak, ignorant, and dissipated set of
wretches--and scourge them into shame--the pen--the pencil--the
pulpit--oh! may they all unite their endeavours--and rescue this once
manly and martial people from the silken slavery of foreign luxury
and debauchery!--Thou, my worthy M----, continue thy improvements;
and may the Almighty bless thee with the humble mien of plenty and
content!--Riches ensnare--the mediocrity is Wisdom’s friend--and that
be thine!--When you see S----, note his behaviour--he writes me word
that he intends a thorough and speedy reformation;--I rather doubt him,
but should be glad to know if you perceive any marks of it--You do
not tell me that you have seen Mr. G----; if you have not, I shall be
angry with you--and attribute your neglect to pride:--pray render my
compliments most respectful and sincere to Mrs. H----, and the little
innocent laughing rose-bud--my love to my son.--I am heartily tired of
the country;--the truth is--Mrs. Sancho and the girls are in town;--I
am not ashamed to own that I love my wife--I hope to see you married,
and as foolish.
I am yours, sincerely, &c. &c.
+Ign. Sancho.+
LETTER XVI.
TO MRS. H----.
Charles Street, Nov. 1, 1773.
MY DEAR AND RESPECTED MADAM,
I HAVE sincere pleasure to find you honour me in your thoughts--to have
your good wishes, is not the least strange, for I am sure you possess
that kind of soul, that Christian philanthropy, which wishes well--and,
in the sense of Scripture, breathes peace and good-will to all.--Part
of your scheme we mean to adopt--but the principal thing we aim at is
in the tea, snuff, and sugar way, with the little articles of daily
domestic use.--In truth, I like your scheme, and I think the three
articles you advise would answer exceedingly well--but it would require
a capital--which we have not--so we mean to cut our coat according to
our scanty quantum--and creep with hopes of being enabled hereafter to
mend our pace.--Mrs. Sancho is in the straw--she has given me a fifth
wench--and your worthy Kate has offered her the honour of standing for
her sponsor, but I fear it must be by proxy.--Pray make my respects
to Mrs. Matilda--I hope she enjoys every thing that her parents wish
her.--I shall dine with Mr. Jacob some day this week--I saw him at
Dodd’s chapel yesterday--and, if his countenance is to be believed,
he was very well--I could not get at him to speak to him.--As soon as
we can get a bit of house, we shall begin to look sharp for a bit of
bread--I have strong hope--the more children, the more blessings--and
if it please the Almighty to spare me from the gout, I verily think
the happiest part of my life is to come--soap, starch, and blue, with
raisins, figs, &c.--we shall cut a respectable figure--in our printed
cards.--Pray make my best wishes to Mr. H----; tell him I revere his
whole family, which is doing honor to myself.--I had a letter of yours
to answer, which I should have done before, had my manners been equal
to my esteem.--Mrs. Sancho joins me in respectful love and thanks. I
remain ever your much obliged servant to command,
IGNATIUS SANCHO.
LETTER XVII.
TO MRS. H----.
February 9, 1774.
IT is the most puzzling affair in nature, to a mind that labours under
obligations, to know how to express its feelings;--your former tender
solicitude for my well-doing--and your generous remembrance in the
present order--appear friendly beyond the common actions of those
we in general style good sort of people;--but I will not teaze you
with my nonsensical thanks--for I believe such kind of hearts as you
are blest with have sufficient reward in the consciousness of acting
humanely.--I opened shop on Saturday the 29th of January--and have met
with a success truly flattering;--it shall be my study and constant
care not to forfeit the good opinion of my friends.--I have pleasure
in congratulating you upon Mrs. W----’s happy delivery and pleasing
increase of her family;--it is the hope and wish of my heart--that
your comforts in all things may multiply with your years--that
in the certain great end--you may immerge without pain--full of
hope--from corruptible pleasure--to immortal and incorruptible
life--happiness without end--and past all human comprehension;--there
may you and I--and all we love (or care for) meet!--the follies--the
parties--distinctions--feuds of ambition--enthusiasm--lust--and anger
of this miserable motley world--all totally forgot--every idea lost,
and absorbed in the blissful mansions of redeeming love.
I have not seen Sir Jacob near a fortnight--but hope and conclude
him well.--R---- is well, and grows very fat--an easy mind--full
purse--and a good table--great health--and much indulgence--all these
conduce terribly to plumpness.--I must beg, when you see Mr. ----, if
not improper or inconvenient, that you will inform him--that where
there is but little--every little helps;--I think he is too humane to
be offended at the liberty--and too honest to be displeased with a
truth.--I am, with greatful thanks to Mr. H----, your sincerely humble
servant and poor friend,
I. SANCHO.
My best half and Sanchonetta’s are all well.
LETTER XVIII.
TO MR. S----.
Charles Street, Nov. 26, 1774.
YOUNG says, “A friend is the balsam of life”--Shakespear says,--but
why should I pester you with quotations?--to shew you the depth of my
erudition, and strut like the fabled bird in his borrowed plumage. In
good honest truth, my friend--I rejoice to see thy name at the bottom
of the instructive page--and were fancy and invention as much my
familiar friends as they are thine--I would write thee an answer--or
try, at least, as agreeably easy--and as politely simple.--Mark
that; simplicity is the characteristic of good writing--which I have
learnt, among many other good things, of your Honor--and for which I
am proud to thank you;--in short I would write like you--think like
you (of course); and do like you; but, as that is impossible, I must
content myself with my old trick;--now what that trick is--thou art
ignorant--and so thou shalt remain--till I congratulate you upon
your recovery.--_A propos_, you began your letter ill, as we do
many things in common life;--ten days elapsed before you finished
it--consequently you finished it well.--My dear friend, may you,
thro’ God’s blessing, ever finish happily what you undertake--however
unpromising the beginning may appear to be!--I want you much in
town--for my one sake--that’s a stroke of self-love.--And do you mean
to bring any candles up with you?--that’s another!--I do not wonder
at your making your way amongst the folks of Hull--although there
are four of the same profession;--we love variety.--I will give them
credit for admiring the Artist;--but if they--that is two or three
of them--have penetration to look deeper--and love the Man--then I
shall believe that there are souls in Hull.--So--my cramp epistle fell
into the hands of thy good and reverend farther--_tant pis_--why,
he must think me blacker than I am.--Mons. B---- goes on well:--I
suppose you know he has opened an Academy in St. Alban’s Street--at
two guineas a year--naked figures three nights a week--Mr. Mortimer
and several eminent names upon his list--and room left for yours--he
hops about with that festivity of countenance which denotes peace
and good-will to man.--I have added to my felicity--or Fortune more
properly has--three worthy friends--they are admirers and friends of
Mortimer and Sterne;--but of this when we meet.--You are expected at
B---- House upon your return--and I hope you will call on them, if
consistent with your time--and agreeable to you.--My friend L---- is
in town, and intends trying his fortune among us--as teacher of murder
and neck-breaking--alias--fencing and riding.--The Tartars, I believe,
have few fine gentlemen among them--and they can ride--though they have
neither fencing nor riding masters;--and as to genteel murder--we are
mere pedlars and novices--for they can dispatch a whole caravan--or
a hoorde--and eat and drink--wench and laugh--and, in truth, so far
they can match our modern fine gents.;--they have no acquaintance with
conscience--but what’s all this to you?--nothing--it helps to fill up
the sheet--and looks like moralizing;--the good-natured partiality of
thy honest heart will deem it--not absolutely nonsense.--Alas!--thus it
often happens--that the judgement of a good head is--bum-fiddled--and
wrong-biass’d by the weakness of a too kind heart;--under that same
weakness let me shelter my failings and absurdities--and let me boast
at this present writing--that my heart is not very depraved--and has
this proof of not being dead to virtue;--it beats stronger at the sound
of friendship--and will be sincerely attached to W---- S----, Esq;
while its pulsations continue to throb in the brest of your obliged
IGNATIUS SANCHO.
Do pray think about returning--the captain--the girls--the house--the
court, stand all--just where they did--when you left them.--Alas! Time
leaves the marks of his rough fingers upon all things--Time shrivels
female faces--and sours small-beer--gives insignificance, if not
impotency, to trunk-hose--and toughness to cow-beef.--Alas! alas!
alas!--
LETTER XIX.
TO MRS. C----.
Charles Street, July 4, 1775.
DEAR MADAM,
IT would be affronting your good-nature to offer an excuse for the
trouble I am going to give you--my tale is short.--Mrs. O---- is
with us--she was, this day, observing poor Lydia with a good deal of
compassion--and said, she knew a child cured by roses boiled in new
milk;--observed, that you had, at this very time, perhaps bushels of
rose-leaves wasting on the ground.--Now my petition is--that you would
cause a few of them to be brought you--(they will blush to find their
sweetness excelled by your kindness)--they are good dryed, but better
fresh--so when you come to town think of honest Lydia.--Mrs. O---- this
morning saw your picture in Bond Street.--She approves much--and I
fancy means to sit--she thinks that you enriched me with the strongest
likeness--but the whole length the best.--I have the honor to transmit
the compliments of Mesdames A---- and Sancho--to which permit me to
add mine, with the most grateful sensibility for the recent favor of
favors.--I am, dear madam,
Your most obliged,
humble servant,
IGN. SANCHO.
LETTER XX.
TO MISS L----.
July 26, 1775.
DEAR MADAM,
I HAVE just now had the pleasure of seeing a Gentleman who is honoured
in calling you sister.--He suspended the pain in my foot for full
five minutes, by the pleasing account he gave of your health.--I
delivered my charge[2] safe into his hands--he viewed it with an
eye of complacency--from which I conclude he is not unworthy your
sister’s hand;--we commonly behold those with a sort of partiality who
bring good tidings from our friends--in that view I could not forbear
thinking him a very good kind of man. I have to thank you for a very
obliging and friendly letter--which I should have done much sooner,
could I have complied with your kind wishes in giving a better account
of myself;--my better self has been but poorly for some time--she
groans with the rheumatism--and I grunt with the gout--a pretty
concert!--Life is thick-sown with troubles--and we have no right to
exemption.--The children, thank God! are well--your name-sake gets
strength every day--and trots about amazingly.--I am reading Bossuet’s
Universal History, which I admire beyond any thing I have long met
with: if it lays in your way, I would wish you to read it, if you have
not already--and if you have, it is worth a second perusal. Mrs. Sancho
rejoices to hear you are well--and intrusts me to send you her best
wishes.--I hope you continue your riding--and should like to see your
_etiquette_ of hat, feather, and habit. Adieu.--May you enjoy every
wish of your benevolent heart--is the hope and prayer of your much
obliged humble servant,
IGN. SANCHO.
If the Universal History of Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, and Preceptor to
Louis XV. should be difficult to find at Tunbridge--when you return
to town, and give us the pleasure of seeing you--he will be exceeding
proud of the happiness (and what Frenchman would not,--although a
bishop?) of riding to Bond Street in your pockets.
[2] Miss L----’s picture.
LETTER XXI.
TO MISS L----.
Charles Street, June 20, 1775.
I PROTEST, my dear Madam, there is nothing so dangerous to the
calm philosophic temper of fifty--as a friendly epistle from a
pretty young woman;--but when worth--benevolence--and a train of
amiabilities--easier felt than described--join in the attack,--the
happy receiver of such an epistle must feel much in the same manner
as your humble servant did this day;--but I did not mean to write
a starch complimentary letter--and I believe you will think I have
flourished rather too much;--here then I recover my wits--and the first
use I make of them is to thank you, in Mrs. Sancho’s name, for your
friendly enquiries--and to assure you, we both rejoice that you had so
pleasant a passage--and that you enjoy your health. We hope also, that
your young gallant will repay your humane attentions--with grateful
regard--and dutiful attachment.--I beg your pardon, over and over, for
my blundering forgetfulness of your kind order--it was occasioned by
being obliged to say goodbye.--Taking leave of those we esteem is, in
my opinion, unpleasant!--the parting of friends is a kind of temporary
mourning. Mrs. Sancho is but indifferent--the hot weather does not
befriend her--but time will, I hope;--if true worth could plead an
exemption from pain and sickness--Miss L---- and Mrs. Sancho would,
by right divine, enjoy the best health--but, God be blessed! there
is a reward in store for both, and all like them--which will amply
repay them for the evils and cross accidents of this foolish world. I
saw Miss and Mrs. S----, and Johnny, at church last Sunday--they all
looked pleasant, and told me they had heard you were well.--I would
recommend a poem, which, if you have not, you should read--it is called
Almeria; I have not read it--but have heard such an account of it as
makes me suspect it will be worth your notice. This end of the town
is fairly Regatta-mad--and the prices they ask are only five shillings
each seat.--They are building scaffoldings on Westminster-hall--and the
prayers of all parties is now for a fine evening--May your evenings be
ever fair--and mornings bright! I should have said nights happy--all in
God’s good time! which, you must be convinced, is the best time.--Lydia
mends--she walks a little--we begin to encourage hope--Kitty is as
lively as ever--and almost goes alone--the rest are well.--Mrs. Sancho
joins me in cordial wishes for your health and wealth.--I am, dear
Madam,
Your most sincere friend,
and obliged humble servant,
IGN. SANCHO.
LETTER XXII.
TO MR. R----.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
THOU hast an honest sympathizing heart--and I am sure will feel
sorrow to hear poor Mr. W---- has paid the debt to Nature:--last
Sunday heaven gained a worthy soul--and the world lost an honest
man!--a Christian!--a friend to merit--a father to the poor and
society--a man, whose least praise was his wit--and his meanest virtue,
good-humour;--he is gone to his great reward;--may you, and all I love
and honor, in God’s good time, join him!--I wish to hear about you--how
you all do--when you saw Johnny--and whether Mrs. O---- holds in the
same mind--if so, she is on the road for London, and Johnny on the
road for B----. Pray have you heard from Mr. L----? A spruce Frenchman
brought me a letter from him on Thursday; he left him well and in
spirits--he wishes we would enquire for a place for him--he longs to be
in England;--he is an honest soul, and I should feel true pleasure in
serving him;--pray remember he wants a place.--I know not what words to
use in way of thanks to Mrs. C----, for the very valuable present of
her picture.--I have wrote to her--but my pen is not able to express
what I feel--and I think Mr. Gardner has hit off her likeness exceeding
well;--my chimney-piece now--fairly imitates the times--a flashy fine
outside--the only intrinsic nett worth, in my possession, is Mrs.
Sancho--whom I can compare to nothing so properly as to a diamond in
the dirt--but, my friend, that is Fortune’s fault, not mine--for had
I power, I would case her in gold.--When heard you from our friend
Mr. J---- N----? when you see or write to him--tell him we still care
for him--and remember his easy good-nature and natural politeness,--I
will trouble you with the inclosed without any ceremony--for I have
been so often obliged to you, that I begin now to fancy I have a
right to trouble you. Commend me to squire S----, and all worthy
friends.--Lydia sends her love to you--she trots about amazingly--and
Kitty imitates her, with this addition, that she is as mischievous as
a monkey.--Mrs. Sancho, Mrs. M----, and Mrs. B----, all think well of
you, as well as yours.
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XXIII.
TO MRS. C----.
Charles Street, July 31, 1775.
DEAR MADAM,
IF aught upon earth could make mortals happy--I have the best right to
believe myself so.--I have lived with the great--and been favoured by
beauty--I have cause to be vain--let that apologize for my boasting.
I am to thank you for the best ornament of my chimney-piece--your
picture, which I had the joy to receive from Mr. Gardner, and which
(exclusive of the partiality I have to your resemblance) I think a very
good one;--it proves, unquestionably, three things--your goodness--Mr.
Gardner’s skill--and my impudence!--in wishing so pleasing a prize.--If
Kitty should live to woman’s estate--she will exultingly tell
folks--that’s my godmother’s picture!--and the next generation will
swear the painter was a flatterer--and scarce credit there was ever a
countenance so amiably sweet--in the days of George the Third--except a
Hamilton or Lady Sarah.--Mrs. Sancho desires her thanks may be joined
with mine--as the thanks of one flesh.--Mr. M---- is well--and hopes,
in concert with the Sanchos, that you had a pleasant journey--and
good health your companion.--That health and pleasure--with love and
friendship in its train--may ever accompany you--is the wish, dear
Madam, of your greatly obliged humble servant,
IGNATIUS SANCHO.
LETTER XXIV.
TO MISS L----.
Charles Street, August, 7, 1775.
I NEVER can excuse intolerable scrawls--and I do tell you, that for
writing conversable letters you are wholly unfit--no talent--no
nature--no style;--stiff--formal and unintelligible;--take that--for
your apology--and learn to be honest to yourself.--The Dutchess
of Kingston and Mr. Foote have joined in a spirited paper-war--(I
should have said engaged)--but I fear her Grace will have the worst
of it:--had she either the heart or head of our friend Miss L----, I
should pity her from my soul--and should muster up gallantry enough
to draw a pen (at least) in her defence; as it is--I think--in
principles they are well-matched;--but as her Grace appears to me to
want temper--I think the Wit will be too hard for her. I am pleased
with the Tunbridgians for their respectful loyalty on his Royal
Highness’s birth day;--it is too much the fashion to treat the Royal
Family with disrespect.--Zeal for politics has almost annihilated good
manners.--Mrs. Sancho feels the kindness of your good wishes;--but
we hope you will be in town before she tumbles in the straw, when a
Benjamin mess of caudle will meet your lips with many welcomes.--Mrs.
Sancho is so, so--not so alert as I have known her;--but I shall
be glad she holds just as well till she is down--My silly gout is
not in haste to leave me--I am in my seventh week--and in truth am
peevish--and sick of its company.--As to Dr. D----, the last I heard
of him was, that he was in France;--he has not preached for these nine
Sundays at Pimlico.--You did not tell me the name of your Suffolk
preacher;--I fancy it is Dr. W--ll--ton--who is reckoned equal to
D----; I am glad you have him--as I would wish you to have every thing
that God can give you conducive to your love and pleasure.--Mrs.
Sancho joins me in respects and thanks--good wishes, &c. &c.
I am, dear Madam,
Your ever obliged, humble servant,
IGN. SANCHO.
LETTER XXV.
TO MR. B----.
August 12, 1775.
DEAR SIR,
IF I knew a better man than yourself--you would not have had this
application--which is in behalf of a merry, chirping, white-toothed,
clean, tight, and light, little fellow!--with a woolly pate--and face
as dark as your humble;--Guiney-born, and French-bred--the sulky
gloom of Africa dispelled by Gallic vivacity--and that softened again
with English sedateness--a rare fellow!--rides well--and can look
upon a couple of horses--dresses hair in the present taste--shaves
light--and understands something of the arrangement of a table and
side-board;--his present master will authenticate him a decent
character--he leaves him at his own (Blacky’s) request:--he has served
him three years--and, like Teague, would be glad of a good master--if
any good master would be glad of him.--As I believe you associate
chiefly with good-hearted folks--it is possible your interest may be of
service to him.--I like the rogue’s looks, or a similarity of colour
should not have induced me to recommend him.--Excuse this little scrawl
from your friend, &c.
+Ignatius Sancho.+
“For conscience, like a fiery horse,
“Will stumble if you check his course;
“But ride him with an easy rein,
“And rub him down with worldly gain,
“He’ll carry you through thick and thin,
“Safe, although dirty, to your Inn.”
LETTER XXVI.
TO MRS. C----.
August 14, 1775.
DEAR MADAM,
I AM happy in hearing that the bathing and drinking has been of
real service to you.--I imagine you rise out of the waves another
Venus--and could wish myself Neptune, to have the honor of escorting
you to land.--Mr. P---- has sent me a pretty turtle, and in very good
condition.--I must beg you will do me the honor to accept of it;--it
will attend you at Privy Gardens, where (had turtles a sense of
ambition) it would think itself happy in its destination.--Pray my best
respects to their honors R---- and Squire S----. I live in hopes of
seeing you all next week.
I am, dear Madam,
Your much obliged,
humble servant,
IGN. SANCHO.
LETTER XXVII.
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
I could 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 400_l._
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--You should 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 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.