“I meaned to write to you before on the subject of your loss*; but the recollection of the uselessness and worthlessness of any observations on such events prevented me. I shall only now add, that I rejoice to see you bear it so well, and that I trust time will enable Mrs. M. to sustain it better. Every thing should be done to divert and occupy her with other thoughts and cares, and I am sure all that can be done will.
“Now to your letter. Napoleon—but the papers will have told you all. I quite think with you upon the subject, and for my real thoughts this time last year, I would refer you to the last pages of the Journal I gave you. I can forgive the rogue for utterly falsifying every line of mine Ode—which I take to be the last and uttermost stretch of human magnanimity. Do you remember the story of a certain abbé, who wrote a Treatise on the Swedish Constitution, and proved it indissoluble and eternal? Just as he had corrected the last sheet, news came that Gustavus III. had destroyed this immortal government. ‘Sir,’ quoth the abbé. ‘the King of Sweden may overthrow the constitution, but not my book!!’ I think of the abbé, but not with him.
“Making every allowance for talent and most consummate daring, there is, after all, a good deal in luck or destiny. He might have been stopped by our frigates—or wrecked in the Gulf of Lyons, which is particularly tempestuous—or—a thousand things. But he is certainly Fortune’s favourite, and
Once fairly set out on his party of pleasure, Taking towns at his liking and crowns at his leisure, From Elba to Lyons and Paris he goes, Making balls for the ladies, and bows
to his foes. |
* The death of his infant god-daughter, Olivia Byron Moore. |
| 612 | NOTICES OF THE | A. D. 1815. |
“To your question, I can only answer that there have been some symptoms which look a little gestatory. It is a subject upon which I am not particularly anxious, except that I think it would please her uncle, Lord Wentworth, and her father and mother. The former (Lord W.) is now in town, and in very indifferent health. You perhaps know that his property, amounting to seven or eight thousand a year, will eventually devolve upon Bell. But the old gentleman has been so very kind to her and me, that I hardly know how to wish him in heaven, if he can be comfortable on earth. Her father is still in the country.
“We mean to metropolize to-morrow, and you will address your next to Piccadilly. We have got the Duchess of Devon’s house there, she being in France.
“I don’t care what Power says to secure the property of the Song, so that it is not complimentary to me, nor any thing about ‘condescending’ or ‘noble author’—both ‘vile phrases,’ as Polonius says.
“Pray, let me hear from you, and when you mean to be in town. Your continental scheme is impracticable for the present. I have to thank you for a longer letter than usual, which I hope will induce you to tax my gratitude still further in the same way.
“You never told me about ‘Longman’ and ‘next winter,’ and I am not a ‘mile-stone*.’”
