I set off on Tuesday morning, and reached home on Wednesday night by ten o’clock, finding everybody very well, and delighting them not a little next day by the display of your French presents; but of this Mrs. Sydney will speak herself.
MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. | 119 |
I liked London better than ever I liked it before, and simply, I believe, from water-drinking. Without this, London is stupefaction and inflammation. It is not the love of wine, but thoughtlessness and unconscious imitation: other men poke out their hands for the revolving wine, and one does the same, without thinking of it. All people above the condition of labourers are ruined by excess of stimulus and nourishment, clergy included. I never yet saw any gentleman who ate and drank as little as was reasonable.
I am uneasy, dear Lady Holland, at your going abroad. Consider what it is to be well. If I were you, I would not stir from Holland House for two years; and then, as many jolts and frights as you please, which at present you are not equal to. I should think you less to blame if the world had anything new to show you; but you have seen the Parthian, the Mede, etc. etc. etc.; no variety of garment can surprise you, and the roads upon the earth are as well known to you as the wrinkles in ——’s face.
Be wise, my dear lady, and re-establish your health in that gilded room which furnishes better and pleasanter society than all the wheels in the world can whirl you to. Believe me, dear Lady Holland, your affectionate friend,