My dear Novello,—Pray do not think that I
did, or shall, or ever can feel angry at my friend’s ill-health. I have
suffered bitterly from ill-health myself; and know too well, even now, what it is.
If I have plagued you at all about Shacklewell, or anything else, I can do so no
more when you talk to me thus; especially when I see you doing what you so much
dislike, to gratify your friends. I recognize there my old friend triumphant,
however he may suffer for a time. That you suffer extremely I doubt not, being in
the agony of the passage from one mode of diet and living to another—a voyage
enough to shake the most Ancient Mariner. But believe one who speaks from
experience—that these things have an end. A little medicine will, I doubt
not, do you good, especially if you follow it up with some appeals to natural
remedies—such as walking, early rising, etc. Upon early rising (always
speaking from experience) I think the very greatest stress ought to be laid, and I
reserve this one subject to plague you upon—always provided that you get up
to a warm fire and speedy and good breakfast. Do not
| 234 | RECOLLECTIONS OF WRITERS |
The necessity of being heroical under nervousness, tensions of the head, and “other gentilities” (as Metastasio has it) is, says he, a great nuisance. But he got over them: so have I, and so will you; so have hundreds of others. The thing is common when people come to compare notes. Lady Suffolk, who had a head of this sort, and lived to see a tranquil old age, said she never knew a head without them “that was worth anything.” Think of that; and she knew the wits and poets of two generations. Love to dear Mary and dear Vincent.
