‘This letter will not be objurgatory: we are all (that is, our trio) delighted at the near prospect of seeing you and your sister, and look forward to it with the greatest pleasure. We did hope, indeed, that you would have made us a longer visit than you talk of: three or four days will pass like three or four minutes: they did so when you were here last, but left a very pleasing remembrance, and a frequent wish for their renewal.
‘This second Correggio from Spain I shall hope to see next spring, and—which always so much enhances the pleasure—with you, and under your guidance. What you say of the exquisite tenderness of the tints and the expression gives me a very favourable idea of it, as being according to my notions more truly characteristic of Correggio than splendour. The sum given for it is a large one; but not more than a mezzo bajocco compared with what the Duke of Wellington’s prize cost the nation: “Ce n’est qu’une nuit de Paris,” said the grand Condé when sacrificing a few regiments. “Ce n’est qu’une heure de guerre,” say I; and for my own part wish we had less glory, more fine pictures, and more money to buy them.
‘I do most earnestly hope that the sun will not be less
brilliant during the short time you will be with us than he was ten years ago
when you saw such a brilliant assemblage of ancient donne e cavalieri in what we call the valley par excellence. I dare say you will
see them again, or, perhaps, a new set; for you poets have
| MR. AND MRS. BEAUMONT | 417 |
‘Lady Beaumont wrote me word of the intended wedding, and of the great satisfaction it gave to her and Sir George. I once saw Mrs. Beaumont, when she, her mother, Sir George, and myself went together to the museum. All her beauty, as you say, must be her mind; of which last, however, I could not judge, as she was very modest and silent; she has a look of intelligence, and by all accounts she is an excellent person. If Mr. Beaumont fell in love, it could not have been by looking at her in the usual way, but with his mind’s eye; and a very good way of looking at one’s future.
‘As you mention the 15th or 18th, or thereabouts, I will frankly tell you that the 18th will suit us best, and hope nothing will prevent us from having the pleasure of receiving you on that day.
‘You are not to imagine that this pink note-paper is my own, or of my own choosing; my daughter brought it to me, and insisted upon my making use of it in my letter to you. With all our best regards to you and your sister, believe me,
‘I am sorry this note-paper will make you pay for a double letter; I thought my son would have been in town, but have this moment heard of his being at Tunbridge.’
