Chapter LIV: Letter LIII: To Mr. M

September 20, 1777.

“What Reason warrants, and what Wisdom guides,
“All else is tow’ring frenzy, or rank folly.”

SO says Addison--

--And so well knoweth my friend I. M----. Well, and what then? why it follows of course--that, instead of feeling myself delighted and gratefully thankful, for--I will and must speak out--yet if these kindnesses cost the pocket of my friend--they are not kindnesses to the Sanchos.--For innate goodness of heart--greatness of spirit--urbanity--humanity--temperance--justice--with the whole sweet list of heaven-born manly virtues--I do, without flattery, give thee (and with pride do I avouch it) credit--I respect thy person, and love thy principles;--but, my good M----, there is a prior duty--which I dare believe you will never willingly be deficient in--and yet your generosity of soul may let even such a worm as I break into it;--now, that should not be--for--take me right--I do not mean any thing derogatory to your rank in the world--or to the strength of your finances--what Sterne said of himself that think I of you--that you are as good a gentleman as the King--but not quite so rich.--I honor thy feelings--and am happy that I can honestly say, that I conceive them;--the joy of giving and making happy is almost the attribute of a God--and there is as much sweetness conveyed to the senses by doing a right well-natured deed, as our frame can consistently bear--_So much for chastisement--a pretty way of thanking!_--Well, I have critically examined thy song--some parts I like well--as it is a maidenhead, it should be gently treated--But why N---- Oh! Nature! A true passion is jealous even of the initials of its mistress’s name.--Well, N---- let it be--I will certainly attempt giving it a tune--such as I can--the first leisure--but it must undergo some little pruning when we meet.--I have had another little visit from the gout--and my hand yet remembers the rough salute; my spirits have been rather low.--Young’s ninth night, the Consolation, has been my last week’s study. It is almost divine;--how many times has it raised, warmed, and charmed me!--and is still new. I hope you found your mother and honest George as well as you wished--and had the full enjoyment of maternal and filial affections.--The girls are rampant-well--and Billy gains something every day.--The rogue is to excess fond of me--for which I pity him--and myself more.--My respects and kind enquiry to your old horse.--Tell him, I wish him better--and am a real friend to honest brutes--some I could almost envy.--To say I am rejoiced to hear you are better, is telling you no news--be but as well as I wish you--as rich--and as good--Sampson, Solomon, and the Duke de Penthievre, will never be comparisons more.--Adieu.

Yours, &c.

I. SANCHO.

I am as melancholy--as a tea-kettle when it sings (as the maidens calls it) over a dead fire.

Oh!--but is it N---- indeed?--now don’t you be after humming me; believe me, honey--if I never find out the truth, I shall know it for all that.