Your fall entirely proceeded from your despising the pommel of the saddle,—a species of pride to which many ladies may attribute fractures and death. When I rode (which, I believe, was in the middle of the last century) I had a holding-strap fixed somewhere near the pommel, and escaped many falls by it.
Nothing ever does happen at Combe Florey, and nothing has happened.
Old-age is not so much a scene of illness as of malaise. I think every day how near I am to death. I am very weak, and very breathless. Everett, the American Minister, has been here at the same time with my eldest brother. We all liked him, and were confirmed in our good opinion of him. A sensible, unassuming man, always wise and reasonable.
“If I take this dose of calomel, shall I be well im-
* See Memoir, page 216. |
520 | MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. |
If you dine with Lady ——, it is a sure proof that you are a virtuous woman; she collects the virtuous. I have totally forgotten all about the American debt, but I continue to receive letters and papers from the most remote corners of the United States, with every vituperative epithet which human rage has invented.