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XCVI. TO J. D-N, ESQ.
Old Bond-street, Friday Morning. I was going, my dear D-n, to bed before I re ceived your kind enquiry, and now my chaise stands at my door to take and convey this poor body to its legal settlement. I am ill, very ill, – I languish most affectingly I am sick both soul and body cordial to me to hear it is different with you interests himself more in your happiness, and I am glad you are in so fair a road to it
enjoy it long, my D., whilst I no matter what but
my feelings are too nice for the world I live in things will mend. I dined yesterday with Lord and Lady S-; we talked much of
your goings on, for every one knows why Sunbury Hill is so pleasant a situation! - You rogue you have locked up my boots bootless home and I fear I shall go bootless all my life Adieu, gentlest and best of souls adieu. I am yours, affectionately,
and I go
XCVII. TO JH-S-, ESQ.
Newark, Monday, ten o'clock in the morn. MY DEAR COUSIN, I have got conveyed thus far like a bale of cadaverous goods consigned to Pluto and company - lying in the bottom of my chaise most of the route, upon a large pillow which I had the prevoyance to purchase before I set out I am worn out but press on to Barnby Moor to-night, and if possible to York the next. I know not what is the matter with me
but some derangement presses hard upon this machine still I
think it will not be overset this bout. My love to G- We shall all meet from the east, and from the south, and (as at the last) be happy together kind respects to a few,
dear H. Truly yours,
XCVIII. TO A. L-E, ESQ.
Coxwould, June 7, 1767. I HAD not been many days at this peaceful cottage before your letter greeted me with the seal of friendship, and most cordially do I thank you for so kind a proof of your good will - I was truly anxious
I to hear of the recovery of my sentimental friend but I would not write to enquire after her, unless I could have sent her the testimony without the tax, for even how-d'yes to invalids, or those that have lately been so, either call to mind what is past or what may return at least I find it so. I am as happy as a prince, at Coxwould and I wish you could see in how princely a manner I live 'tis a land of plenty. I sit down alone to venison, fish, and wild-fowl, or a couple of fowls or ducks, with curds and strawberries, and cream, and all the simple plenty which a rich valley (under Hamilton Hills) can produce -- with a clean cloth on my table and a bottle of wine on my right hand to drink your health. I have a hundred hens and chickens about my yard
and not a parishioner catches a hare, or a rabbit, or a trout, but he brings it as an offering to me. If solitude would cure a love-sick heart, I would give you an invitation but absence and time lessen no attachment which virtue inspires. I am in high spirits care never enters this cottage
I take the air every day in my postchaise, with two long-tailed horses they turn out good ones; and as to myself, I think I am better upon the whole for the medicines and regimen I submitted to in town May you, dear L-, want neither the one nor the other!
XCIX. TO THE SAME.
Coxwould, June 30, I Am in still better health, my dear L-e, than when I wrote last to you, owing I believe to my riding out every day with my friend H-, whose castle lies near the sea,
and there is a beach as even as a mirror, of five miles in length before it
where we daily run races in our chaises, with one wheel in the sea,
and the other on land. D— has obtained his fair Indian, and has this post sent a letter of enquiries after Yorick, and his Bramin. He is a good soul, and interests himself much in our fate. I cannot forgive you, L-e, for your folly in saying you intend to get introduced to the — I despise them, and I shall hold
I your understanding much cheaper than I now do, if you persist in a resolution so unworthy of you. I suppose Mrs. J- telling you they were sensible is the ground-work you go upon - by — they are not clever; though what is commonly called wit may pass for literature on the other side of Temple-Bar. You say Mrs. J. - thinks them amiable --- she judges too favourably; but I have put a stop to her intentions of visiting them. They are bitter enemies of mine, and I am even with them. La Bramine assured me they used their endeav
ours with her to break off her friendship with me, for reasons I will not write, but tell you. I said enough of them before she left England, and though she yielded to me in every other point, yet in this she obstinately persisted. Strange infatuation! — but I think I have effected my purpose by a falsity, which Yorick's friendship to the Bramine can only justify. I wrote her word that the most amiable of women reiterated my request, that she would not write to them. I said too, she had concealed many things for the sake of her peace of mind when in fact, L-e, this was merely a child of my own brain, made Mrs. J—'s by adoption, to enforce the argument I had before urged so strongly. Do not mention this circumstance to Mrs. J 'twould displease her – and I had no design in it but for the Bramine to be a friend to herself. I ought now to be busy from sun-rise to sunset, for I have a book to write a wife to receive au estate to sell parish to superintend, and, what is worst of all, a disquieted heart to reason with these are continual calls upon me.
I have received half a dozen letters to press me to join my friends at Scarborough, but I am at present deaf to them all. I perhaps may pass a few days there something later in the season, not at present and so, dear L-e, adieu. I am most cordially yours,
C. TO IGNATIUS SANCHO.
Coxwould, June 30 (1767.] I must acknowledge the courtesy of my good friend Sancho's letter were I ten times busier than I am, and must thank him too for the many expressions of his
good will, and good opinion 'Tis all affectation to say a man is not gratified with being praised -- we only want it to be sincere and then it will be taken, Sancho, as kindly as yours. I left town very poorly
and with an idea I was taking leave of it for ever
but good air, a quiet retreat, and quiet reflections along with it, with an ass to milk, and another to ride upon (if I chuse it), all together do wonders. I shall live this year at least, I hope, be it but to give the world, before I quit it, as good impressions of me as you have, Sancho. I would only covenant for just so much health and spirits as are sufficient to carry my pen through the task I have set it this summer. But I am a resigned being, Sancho, and take health and sickness, as I do light and darkness, or the vicissitudes of seasons
that is, just as it pleases God to send
My honest friend Sancho,
- I hope you
CI. TO MR. AND MRS. J.
Coxwould, July 6, 1767.