late lapse of behaviour does you credit.--Contrition--the child of
conviction--serves to prove the goodness of your heart--the man of
levity often errs--but it is the man of sense alone who can gracefully
acknowledge it.--I accept your apology--and, if in the manly heat of
wordy contest aught escaped my lips tinged with undue asperity, I ask
your pardon, and hope you will mutually exchange forgiveness with
I. SANCHO.
LETTER LXXXVI.
TO J---- S----, ESQ.
March 9, 1779.
IT has given me much concern, dear Sir, the not having it in my power
to make my grateful acknowledgements sooner, for your very kind letter,
and friendly present which accompanied it.--My first thanks are due to
Heaven, who, for the example as well as service of mortals, now and
then blesses the world with a humane, generous Being.--My next thanks
are justly paid to you, who are pleased to rank me and mine in the
honourable class of those you wish to serve.--For these six past weeks,
our days have been clouded by the severe illness of a child, whom it
has pleased God to take from us: and a cowardly attack of the gout at
a time when every exertion was needful.--I have as yet but very little
use of my hand;--but I am thankful to have sufficient to exculpate me
from the vice of ingratitude--which my long silence might lay me under
the imputation of.--Mrs. Sancho begs me to express her sense of your
kindness; and joins me cordially in the most respectful sensations and
best wishes to Mrs. S---- and yourself. I am, dear Sir,
(and with very great reason)
Your much obliged
humble servant,
I. SANCHO.
LETTER LXXXVII.
TO MR. S----.
March 11, 1779.
DEAR FRIEND,
I RECEIVED yours about three hours since.--I give you due credit
for your sympathizing feelings on our recent very distressful
situation--for thirty nights (save two) Mrs. Sancho had no cloaths
off;--but you know the woman. Nature never formed a tenderer
heart--take her for all in all--the mother--wife--friend--she does
credit to her sex--she has the rare felicity of possessing true virtue
without arrogance--softness without weakness--and dignity without
pride:--she is ----’s full sister, without his foibles--and, to my
inexpressible happiness, she is my wife, and truly best part, without a
single tinge of my defects--Poor Kitty! happy Kitty I should say, drew
her rich prize early--wish her joy! and joy to Mortimer! He left life’s
table (before he was cloyed or surfeited with dull sickly repetitions)
in prime of years, in the meridian of character as an artist, and
universally esteemed as a man:--he winged his rapid flight to those
celestial mansions--where Pope--Hogarth--Handel--Chatham--and Garrick,
are enjoying the full sweets of beatific vision--with the great
Artists--Worthies--and Poets of time without date.--Your father has
been exceeding kind--this very day a Mr. W----, of Retford, called on
me, a goodly-looking gentleman: he enquired after you with the anxious
curiosity of a friend;--told me your father was well, and, by his
account, thinks by much too well of me.--Friend H---- shall produce
the things you wot of--and brother O---- bring them in his hand: H----
is a very silly fellow--he likes silly folks; and, I believe, does
not hate Sancho.--To-morrow night I shall have a few friends to meet
brother O----; we intend to be merry:--were you here, you might add
to a number, which I think too many for our little room.--So I hear
that the ---- No, hang me! if I say a word about it.--Well, and how do
you like the company of Monsieur Le Gout? Shall I, in compliance with
vulgar custom, wish you joy? Pox on it, my hand aches so, I can scrawl
no longer.--Mrs. Sancho is but so, so;--the children are well.--Do
write large and intelligible when you write to me. I hate fine hands
and fine language;--write plain honest nonsense, like thy true friend,
I. SANCHO.
LETTER LXXXVIII.
TO MR. W----E.
Charles Street, March 31, 1779.
YOU wish me to writ a consolatory letter to Mrs. W----e. My good
friend, what can I possibly write but your good sense must have
anticipated? The soul-endearing soothings of cordial love have the best
and strongest effects upon the grief-torn mind:--you have of course
told her that thanks are due, greatly so! to a merciful God, who might
have bereaved her of a child, instead of a worthy cousin;--or that she
ought to feel comfort--and to acknowledge divine mercy--that it was not
her husband:--that to lament the death of that amiable girl, is false
sorrow in the extreme:--why lament the great bliss and _choice prize_
of what we love?--what is it she has not gained by an early death?--You
will say--she was good--and will suppose that in the tender connexions
of wife--friend--and mother--she would have been an honoured and
esteemed example.--True, she might--and it is as true, she might have
been unhappily paired, ill-matched to some morose, ill-minded, uneven
bashaw;--she might have fell from affluence to want--from honour to
infamy--from innocence to guilt:--in short, we mistake too commonly the
objects of our grief;--the living demand our tears--the dead (if their
lives were virtuous) our gratulations;--in your case, all that can be
said is--earth has lost an opening sweet flower (which, had it lasted
longer, must of course soon fade)--and heaven has gained an angel,
which will bloom for ever--so let us hear no more of grief. We all must
follow.--No! let us rejoice, with your worthy friend Mrs. ----[9]. Joy
to the good couple! May they each find their respective wishes! May he
find the grateful acknowledgement of obliged and pleasing duty!--and
she, the substantial, fond, solid rewards due to a rectitude of
conduct, marked strongly with kindness and wisdom! And may you, my
friend!--but my leg aches--my foot swells--I can only say, my love to
the C--ds, and to poor Joe and Frank.--Read this to Mrs. W----e. My
silly reasoning may be too weak to reach her;--but, however, she may
smile at my absurdities;--if so, I shall have a comfort--as I ever wish
to give pleasure to her dear sex--and the pride of my heart is ever to
please one--alas!--and that one a wife.--So writes thy true friend,
I. SANCHO.
Mr. W----e comes as far as P---- Gardens--but cannot reach Charles
Street.
_How’s that?_
I hear my scheme of taxation was inserted directly, and should be glad
to see the paper if easily got.
_Vanity._
[9] This union was remarkable for disparity of years; the bridegroom
being 78, the bride in the bloom of youth.
LETTER LXXXIX.
TO MR. L----.
May 4, 1779.
MY DEAR CHILD,
I AM truly sorry to address this letter to you at this season in the
English Channel.--The time considered that you have left us, you ought
in all good reason to have been a seasoned Creole of St. Kitt’s;--but
we must have patience:--what cannot be cured, must be endured.--I dare
believe, you bear the cruel delay with resignation--and make the best
and truest use of your time, by steady reflection and writing.--I
would wish you to note down the occurrences of every day--to which
add your own observation of men and things--the more you habituate
yourself to minute investigation, the stronger you will make your
mind;--ever taking along with you in all your researches the word of
God--and the operations of his divine providence.--Remember, young
man--nothing happens by chance.--Let not the levity of frothy wit,
nor the absurdity of fools, break in upon your happier principles,
your dependence upon the Deity--address the Almighty with fervor,
with love and simplicity--carry his laws in your heart--and command
both worlds;--but I meant mere fatherly advice, and I have wrote a
sermon.--Dear boy, ’tis my love preaches; N---- begged me to write a
line for him, as he said you wanted news--I have none but what you
know as well as myself--such as the regard and best wishes of Mrs.
Sancho--the girls and myself--such as wishing a happy end to your
long-protracted voyage--and a joyful meeting with your worthy and
respectable family;--and in order to leave room for friend N----, I
here assure you I am your affectionate friend,
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XC.
TO MR. R----.
May, 1779.
MY DEAR WORTHY R----,
YOUR letter was a real gratification to a something better principle
than pride--it pleased my self-love--there are very few (believe
me) whose regards or notice I care about--yourself, brother, and
O----, with about three more at most--form the whole of my _male_
connexions.--Your brother is not half so honest as I thought him--he
promises like a tradesman, but performs like a lord.--On Sunday
evening we expected him--the hearth was swept--the kettle boiled--the
girls were in print--and the marks of the folds in Mrs. Sancho’s
apron still visible--the clock past six--no Mr. R----. Now to tell
the whole truth, he did add a kind of clause, that in case nothing
material happened of hospital business, he would surely do himself
the--&c. &c. &c.--So, upon the whole, I am not quite clear that he
deserves censure--but that he disappointed us of a pleasure, I am
very certain.--You don’t say you have seen Mr. P----. I beg you will,
for I think he is the kind of soul congenial to your own.--Apropos,
the right hand side (almost the bottom) of Gray Street, there is a
Mrs. H----, an honest and very agreeable northern lady, whom I should
like you to know something of--which may easily be done--if you will
do me the credit just to knock at her door when you go that way--and
tell her, there is a Devil that has not forgot her civilities to
him--and would be glad to hear she was well and happy.--Mr. R----
called on me in the friendly style--when I say that, I mean in the
R---- manner--he asked a question--bought some tea--looked happy--and
left us pleased:--he has the Graces.--The gout seized me yesterday
morning--the second attempt--I looked rather black all day:--tell Mrs.
C----, I will lay any odds that she is either the handsomest or ugliest
woman in Bath--and among the many trinkets she means to bring with
her--tell her not to forget health.--May you all be enriched with that
blessing--wanting which, the good things of this world are trash!--You
can write tiresome letters! Alas! will you yield upon the recept of
this?--if not--that palm unquestionably belongs to your friend,
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XCI.
TO J---- S----, ESQ.
Charles Street, June 16, 1779.
DEAR SIR,
IN truth, I was never more puzzled in my life than at this present
writing--the acts of common kindness, or the effusions of mere
common-will, I should know what to reply to--but, by my conscience,
you act upon so grand a scale of urbanity, that a man should possess a
mind as noble, and a heart as ample, as yourself! before he attempts
even to be grateful upon paper.--You have made me richer than ever I
was in my life--till this day I thought a bottle of good wine a large
possession. Sir, I will enjoy your goodness with a glad heart--and
every deserving soul I meet with shall share a glass with me, and join
in drinking the generous donor’s health. Mrs. Sancho’s eyes betray her
feelings--she bids me think for her--which I do most sincerely, and for
myself,
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XCII.
TO MRS. H----.
June 17, 1779.
DEAR MADAM,
YOUR son, who is a welcome visitor wherever he comes, made himself
more welcome to me by the kind proof of your regard he brought in his
hands.--Souls like yours, who delight in giving pleasure, enjoy a
heaven on earth; for I am convinced that the disposition of the mind
in a great measure forms either the heaven or hell in both worlds.--I
rejoice sincerely at the happiness of Mrs. W----, and may their
happiness increase with family and trade!--and may you both enjoy the
heartfelt delight of seeing your children’s children walking in the
track of grace!--I have, to my shame be it spoken, intended writing to
you for these twelve months past--but in truth I was deterred through
a fear of giving pain: our history has had little in it but cares and
anxieties--which (as it is the well-experienced lot of mortality) we
struggle with it, with religion on one hand, and hope on the other.
Mr. W----, whose looks and address bespeak a good heart and good sense,
called on me.--I will not say how much I was pleased--pray make my
kindest respects to your good partner, and tell him, I think I have
a right to trouble him with my musical nonsense.--I wish it better
for my own sake--bad as it is, I know he will not despise it, because
he has more good-nature:--I hear a good report of Mr. S----, and
that his humanity has received the thanks of a community in a public
manner.--May he! and you! and all I love, enjoy the blissful feelings
of large humanity!--There is a plaudit--as much superior to man’s as
heaven is above earth! Great God, in thy mercy and unbounded goodness,
grant that even I may rejoice through eternity with those I have
respected and esteemed here!--Mrs. Sancho joins me in love to yourself
and Mr. H----. Your son Jacob is the delight of my girls--whenever he
calls on us, the work is flung by, and the mouths all distended with
laughter: he is a vile romp with children.--I am, dear Madam, with true
esteem and respect,
Your obliged servant,
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XCIII.
TO J---- S----, ESQ.
June 29, 1779.
A LITTLE fish--which was alive this morn--sets out this eve for
Bury--ambitious of presenting itself to Mrs. S----: if it should
come good, the Sancho’s will be happy;--in truth, Mr. S---- ought not
to be displeased--neither will he, I trust, if he considers it as it
really is--a grain of salt, in return for favors received of princely
magnitude, and deeply engraven in the hearts of his much obliged and
faithful servants,
He and She +Sancho’s+.
LETTER XCIV.
TO MR. M----.
August 1, 1779.
Coat and Badge.
BRAVO! So you think you have given me the retort-courteous--I admit
it.--Go to! you are seedy, you are sly--true son, in the right direct
line, of old Gastpherious Sly.--Your letter to S--n makes ample amends
for your impudence in presuming to mount my hobby:--yes, I do affirm it
to be a good, yea, and a friendly letter.--The leading-string thought
is new, and almost poetic;--I watched him while he read it;--he read
it twice.--I judge he felt the force of your argumentation.--May he
avail himself of your friendly hints! and may you have the heart-felt
satisfaction of finding him a wiser being than heretofore! How doth
George’s mouth?--I honour you for your humane feelings--and much more
for your brotherly affection;--but do not Namby-Pamby with the manly
exertions of benevolence:--what I mean is--ah me! poor George--to be
sure ’tis well its no worse;--but the loss of a tooth and a scar are so
disfiguring!--Pooh, simpleton, if his heart is right, and God blesses
him with health--his exterior will ever be pleasing, in spight of the
gap in his gums, or scar above his chin. G---- is likely--the rogue has
a pleasing cherry phiz: neither so old nor so mouldy as some folks, not
having been rocked in the cradle of flattery--he has consequently more
modesty than his elders.--I could easily fill the sheet in contrasting
the merits of the two lads;--but then it would (I plainly foresee) turn
out so much to the advantage of Prince Jacky--that in mere charity I
forbear--and shall conclude with wishing both your heads to agree, as
well in good health, as in the many good qualities which I have not
time to enumerate.
Mrs. Sancho is pretty well--the girls and Billy well,--I am sometimes
better--sometimes so, so.--I should have answered you sooner; but
yesterday was obliged to write all day--though fast asleep the whole
time:--perhaps you will retort--that it is the case with me at this
present writing. False and scandalous! I declare I was never more
awake.--Remember me to Mr. S----, the ladies, and to thyself, if thou
knowest him.
Farewell. Thine, &c. &c. &c.
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XCV.
TO MR. I----.
August 3, 1779.
DEAR SIR,
I MUCH wish to hear that Mrs. I---- is quite recovered--or in the best
possible way towards it. I have next to thank you for your princely
present--and to say I feel myself rich and happy in the splendid proofs
I have of your regard.
You love a pun almost as well as Dennis.--I shall contrive to be in
your debt as long as I live--and settle accounts hereafter--where, I
know no more than the Pope;--but you, Sterne, and Mortimer, are there,
sure I am, it will be the abode of the blest.--But to business--I am
commissioned to get as good an impression as possible of St. Paul
preaching to the Britons:--shall esteem it a fresh obligation, if you
will be kind enough to chuse one, and send by the bearer.--I return
faith for pudding--and Mr. Sharpe’s strictures upon Slavery;--the one
may amuse, if not edify--the other I think of consequence to every one
of humane feelings.--Do, pray, let me know how Mrs. I---- does;--with
thanks, respects; and why not friendship?
I am dear Sir,
Yours, &c.
I. SANCHO.
LETTER XCVI.
TO MR. M----.
August 14, 1779.
YOU kindly gave me liberty to bring Mrs. S----: the proposal did
honour to your heart--and credit to your judgement;--but an affair has
rendered that part of your invitation inadmissible,--Now pox take bad
quills--and bad pen-makers!--Sir, it was fifty pound to a bean-shell,
but that you had had a blot as big as both houses of parliament in the
very fairest, yea and handsomest, part of this epistle:--my pen, like
a drunkard, sucks up more liquor than it can carry, and so of course
disgorges it at random.--I will that ye observe the above simile to
be a good one--not the cleanliest in nature I own--but as pat to the
purpose as dram-drinking to a bawd--or oaths to a serjeant of the
guards--or--or--dullness to a Black-a-moor;--good--excessive good:--and
pray what--(oh, this confounded pen!)--what may your Worship’s chief
employ have been?--You have had your Devil’s dance--found yourself
in a lazy fit--the ink-stand, &c. staring you full in the face--you
yawned--stretched--and then condescended to scold me for omitting what
properly, and according to strict rule, you should have done yourself
a month ago.--Zounds!--God forgive us!----this thought oversets the
patience--coat and lining--of your right trusty friend,
IGN. SANCHO.
LETTER XCVII.
TO MR. M----.
August 20 1779.
IN all doubtful cases, it is best to adhere to the side of least
difficulty.--Now whether you ought to have shewn the _politesses_ of
the _Ton_ in making enquiry after my Honour’s health and travels--or
whether my Honour should have anticipated all enquiry--by sending a
card of thanks for more than friendly civilities--is a very nice
point, which, for my part, I willingly leave to better casuists;--and
as I honestly feel myself the obliged party--so I put pen to paper as
a testimonial of the same.--I will suppose your head improved--I mean
physically: I will also hope your heart light--and all your combustible
passions under due subordination;--and then adding the fineness of the
morning--from these premises I will believe that my good friend is well
and happy.
I hope George effected his wish in town: if he has to do with people of
feeling--there is a something in his face which will command attention
and love--the boy is much handsomer than ever you were; and yet you
never look better than when you look on him:--would to God you were as
well settled!
The stage contained five good souls, and one huge mass of
flesh[10]:--they, God bless them, thought I took up too much room--and
I thought there was too little:--we looked at each other, like folks
dissatisfied with their company--and so jolted on in sullen silence
for the first half hour;--and had there been no ladies, the God or
Goddess of silence would have reigned the whole way:--for my part,
quoth I to myself, I have enjoyed true pleasure all day--the morning
was bright, refreshing, and pleasant; the delicious bowl of milk, the
fresh butter, sweet bread, cool room, and kind hostess--the friendly
converse, the walk--the animated flow of soul in I-- M----; the little
but elegant treat, high-seasoned with welcome.--Oh, Sancho, what more
could luxury covet, or ambition wish for? True, cries Reason--then be
thankful:--Hold! cries Avarice, with squinting eyes and rotten stumps
of teeth--hungry, though ever cramming;--it cost thee one shilling and
nine pence--one shilling and nine pence I say.--What of that, cries
Œconomy, we eat fairly half a crown’s worth.--Aye, cries Prudence,
that alters the case--od-so, we are nine pence in pocket, besides the
benefit of fresh air, fresh scenes, and the pleasure of the society
we love.--The sky was cloudless, and, to do me a particular favour,
the moon chose to be at full--and gave us all her splendor;--but our
envious mother Earth (to mortify our vanity) rose up--rolling the whole
way in clouds of dust.--Contention flew in at the coach-windows,
and took possession of both the females:--“Madam, if you persist in
drawing up the glass, we shall faint with heat.”--“Oh dear! very sorry
to offend your delicacy; but I shall be suffocated with dust--and my
cloaths--” “I have cloaths to spoil as well as other folks, &c. &c.
&c.” The males behaved wisely, and kept a stricter neutrality than the
French with the Americans.--I chewed the cud of sweet remembrance,
and, with a heart and mind in pretty easy plight, gained the castle of
peace and innocence about nine o’clock.--Well, Sir, and how do you find
yourself by this time?--I sweat, I protest--and then the bright God of
day darts his blessings full upon my shop-window--so intensely, that I
could fancy myself St. Bartholomew broiling upon a gridiron.
Oh! thou varlet--down--down upon thy knees, and bless thy indulgent
stars for the blessings--comforts--beauties, &c. of thy situation--the
Land of Canaan in possession milk and honey--shady trees--sweet walks
covered with the velvet of nature--pleasant views--cool house--and
the superintendency of the sweet girls--to whom my love and
blessings--and, sirrah! mark what I say, and obey me without reply:
there is a plump good-natured looking soul--I think you called her
Patty--my conscience tells me, that I owe her something more than
kind words and cool thanks!--therefore tell her, a man that notes
particularly the welcome of the eye--and saw plainly good-will and
good-nature in the expression of her honest countenance--sends her
a dish of tea--which she must sweeten by her cheery acceptance of
it--from one who knows not how to return the many, many obligations he
has received from the he’s and she’s of P---- house--exclusive of what
he owes--and shall be content ever to owe--the saucy rogue he addresses.
Farewell. Yours, &c.
I. SANCHO.
[10] Mr. Sancho was remarkable for corpulency.
LETTER XCVIII.
TO MRS. C----.
Charles Street, Aug. 25, 1779.
MA CHERE AMIE,