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Arachne, my dear Miss Dixon, -- so goes the story, -- was unfortunate enough to
incur the mortal displeasure of Minerva by too pompous a display of her skill in
embroidery; and since that event, very few ladies who have courted the favour of
Minerva have chosen to run the hazard of provoking her by the delicacy of their
needle-work. Now, as I do not believe that Arachne or Minerva either (no
dispraise to her goddess-ship) ever wrought any thing prettier than the roses
you have been so obliging as to send me, -- Flora, indeed, promises to produce
some very like them in a few month, -- I wonder much at your being so great a
favourite with the goddess as I find you are by the story which accompanied
them, and that she thinks proper to encourage you in handling both your pen and
your needle in the manner you do. Indeed, my dear, I was equally surprised
It is generally said, that at your age impressions of friendship are easily made and soon worn out; but it is not so with you; and to say the truth, I should be mortified if it were, for I have myself too lively and pleasing a remembrance of the happy and sportive hours we enjoyed together at Thorpe, not to wish they should be equally dear to your mind. My thoughts, as well as Mr. B.'s, have often pursued you since. We have figured you as amongst your sweet companions, at once improving your heart in sensibility, accomplishing yourself in all that is elegant, and enjoying without fear or anxiety all the simple, innocent, cheerful pleasures which belong to that period of life you are now in. Enjoy and relish them while you may. You will never be again -- I do not say so happy, for I hope your happiness will ever increase, -- but you will never enjoy again the same kind of happiness which you do now, nor with so little mixture of uneasiness; and the way to prolong it is to keep as late as possible that entire openness, simplicity and ingenuousness which is the beautiful characteristic of your age.
I have long been determined to seize the first moment of leisure to write to my dear Miss Dixon; but leisure is one of those things of which I enjoy the least, so I am at length determined to write without it. By the way, do you know the pedigree and adventures of Leisure?
She was born somewhere amongst the Chaldean shepherds, where she became a
favourite of Urania; and having been instructed in her sublime philosophy,
taught men to observe the course of the stars, and to mark the slow revolution
of seasons. The next we hear of her is in the rural mountains and valleys of
Arcadia. In this delightful abode her charms make a conquest of the god Pan, who
would often sit whole days by her side, tuning his pipe of unequal reeds. By him
she had two beautiful children, Love and Poetry, the darlings of the shepherds,
who received them in their arms, and brought them up amidst the murmur of bees,
the falls of water, the lowing of cattle, and the various rural and peaceful
sounds with which that region abounded. When the Romans spread the din of arms
over the globe, Leisure was frightened from her soft retreats, and from the cold
Scythian to the tawny Numidian could scarcely find a corner of the world to
shelter
Mademoiselle Ennui was wafted over to England in a north-east wind, and settled herself with some of the best families in the kingdom. Indeed the mother seldom makes any long residence in a place without being intruded on by the daughter, who steals in and seats herself silently by her side.
I hope, however, my amiable friend is now enjoying the company of the mother without fear of a visit from the daughter, whom her taste and liveliness will, I am sure, ever exclude from her habitation.
Thanks to my dear Miss Dixon for her frank and affectionate letter. A thousand good wishes attend her; but as I hope to breath them soon from my lips, I shall spare my pen a task to which it is not adequate.
You have rejoiced my heart by allowing me to
If at any time, and in any place, a letter from my dear Mrs. Beecroft has always given me a sensible pleasure, she will judge how grateful it must have been to my heart to be remembered by her with so much kindness and affection, and to be informed of her welfare, when the long absence, when the tracts of land and seas between us and those most dear to our hearts, render accounts from England doubly interesting. And indeed when I reflect that I am transported from the banks of the Waveney to the shores of the Mediterranean, I am ready to cry out with Simkin,
The scenes we have passed through gratify cur-
The ladies of this country, if I may trust what their own countrymen say of
them, are not found of these domestic ties; they wish not to be mothers of a
numerous offspring; and their husbands, whose claim to the honour is
somewhat more dubious, are still less flattered with being fathers to them.
But let me give you some account of our route. From Calais we coasted, as I
may say, the rich plains of Flanders and Artois, which however, had lost
their peculiar beauty, as the harvest was got in. we passed through a part
of
At Geneva we were greatly delighted with the society and the situation; but
the winter advanced so fast upon us, that we were obliged to abandon our
design of visiting Switzerland. From Geneva to Lyons we were still in the
midst of
You know, probably, that Montpelier is famous for perfumes. One man, who has got a large fortune by them, has planted a garden with rose-trees, several thousands in number, which in summer perfume the air to a considerable distance.
I hoped to have finished this letter where I began it, at Montpelier; but not
having been able to do it, gives me an opportunity to tell you, that we have
seen at Pesenas an
I feel an impatience at being again on English ground, and yet not being able to hear news of you. My imagination pictures you with a lovely burden in your arms, -- whether boy or girl she is not able to determine, but a charming infant however, that exercises your sweet sprightliness in entertaining it, and delights your sensibility by its early notice. But of this delightful circumstance I want to be certain ...... In the mean time let me give you some account of ourselves. After having spent so much time at Paris that we were obliged to give up our original design of visiting Flanders, we returned by way of Chantilly .....
I could not help being struck with the neatness and civility of all the inns
on the road from Dover to London. In neatness the English are acknowledged
to excell; and though the upper rank in France may practise politeness with
more ease and grace than we do, yet it is certain that the lower order are
much less respectful and more
I do not know how it is, I think verily London is a finer town than Paris; and yet it does not appear to me since my return so magnificent as it used to do: I believe the reason is, that Paris has so much the advantage in being built of stone. Another advantage to the environs derived from that is, that they are not fumigated by the abominable brick-kilns which are so numerous near our metropolis.
There is not much new at present in French polite literature. M. Florian has published a didactic romance, Numa Pompilius, in imitation of Telemachus, but it is heavy.
I often please my mind with the sweet scenes of domestic happiness which you
must enjoy; yourself in the arms of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, and your children in
yours. Apropos of the sweet children, -- I should not be at all alarmed at
their
London is extremely full now: the trial, the parliamentary business, and fetes and illuminations, and the Shakespear Gallery, have all contributed to fill the great hive. But among these various objects, none is surely so interesting as the noble effort making for the abolition of the slave-trade. Nothing, I think, for centuries past, has done the nation so much honour; because it must have proceeded from the most liberal motives, -- the purest love of humanity and justice. The voice of the Negroes could not have made itself heard but by the ear of pity; they might have been oppressed for ages more with impunity, if we had so pleased.
..... I do not doubt but your attention, as well as that of every one else,
has been engaged lately by the affairs in France. We were much gratified a
fortnight ago by seeing Lord Daer, who had been at Paris at the beginning of
the com-
My Dear Mrs. Beecroft,
It is but lately that I heard you were returned from your delightful
expedition, or I should have written sooner; for I am sure so kind and
charming a letter as yours demanded an early acknowledgement. I do not say I
envy you your party and your tour, because I have in some measure enjoyed it
along with you. I have tracked you the top of Skiddaw; seen you impress the
mountains with your light and nymph-like step, and skim over the lakes with
a rapid and smooth motion, like a bird that just touches them with her wing
without dipping it. I have contemplated the effect such scenes must produce
on minds so turned to admire the beauties of nature as yours
I suppose you are now returned to your course of instructive reading, and
your sweet employment of instructing your little charge. Pray have you seen
Sacontala, an Indian drama translated by Sir William Jones? You will be much
pleased with it. There is much fancy and much sentiment in it, -- much
poetry too, and mythology: but these, though full of beauties, are often
uncouth and harsh to the European ear. The language of nature and the
passions is of all countries. The hero of the piece is as delicate and
tender a lover as any that can be met with in the pages of modern romance;
for I hope you can pardon him a little circumstance relative to the
...... You ought, I think, to come to London every spring, to peep into the Exhibition and Shakespear Gallery, and to see our proud metropolis when she adorns her head with wreaths of early roses, and perfumes her crowded streets with all the first scents of spring. So uncommonly fine has the weather been this year, that in March, if you were in a flower-shop, you might have imagined it the glowing month of June.
I last Sunday attended with melancholy satisfaction the funeral sermon of
good Dr. Price, preached by Dr. Preistley, who, as he told us, had been
thirty years his acquaintance, and twenty years his intimate friend. He well
delineated the character he so well knew. I had just been reading an
My dear Mrs. Beecroft,
Is it permitted me to renew a correspondence which has been too long
interrupted, though our friendship, I trust, never has? -- strange indeed
would it be, if the esteem and affection I owe you could ever subside, or if
I could forget the marks of kindness and attention I have always received
from you. How good it was of you to invite Mr. Barbauld while I have been
rambling! I should have been more satisfied with being away if he had
accepted your offer; for I should have known then, that he would have no
occasion to regret any of the beautiful scenes I have enjoyed without him. I
have been much pleased with Scotland. I do not know whether you ever
extended your tour so far: if you have not seen it, let me beg that you
will; for I do not think that in any equal part of England so many
interesting objects are to be met with as occur in what is called the little
tour; from Edinburgh to Stirling, Perth and Blair, along the pleasant
windings of the Forth and Tay; then by the lakes, ending with Lock Lomond,
the last and greatest, and so to Glasgow; then to the Falls of the Clyde,
and back by Dumfries; which last, however, we did
Edinburgh is so commanding a situation for a capital, I almost regretted it was not one, and that the fine rooms at Holyrood-house are falling into ruins. The Old and the New town make the fines contrast in the world: But beautiful as the New town is, I was convinced, after being some days in it, that its perfect regularity tends towards insipidity, and that a gentle waving line in a street, provided it is without affectation, and has the advantage of some inequality of ground, is more agreeable than streets that cut one another at right angles.
We were much struck with the Falls of the Clyde and its steep banks richly
wooded. Indeed, wherever the country is wooded it is beautiful, and it is
every where improving in that respect: millions of trees are planted every
year; but it is some time before planted trees form a feature of the
country. A belt of wood, dotted
...... Your emigrants are very interesting people. I think the English
character has never appeared in a more amiable light than in the kind and
hospitable attentions which have been pretty generally shown to these
unfortunate people. I was much amused with Louvet, and interested; though I
confess the interest was somewhat weakened by the reflection that he was by
profession a bookseller and a writer of romances; and I that one may
discover a few
..... I do not know the present cause of your reading, but I imagine that
two works, at least, have employed the leisure of both of us; Roscoe's
Lorenzo, and Mrs. D'Arblay's Camilla. The former is a very capital work: I
only wish that instead of making Lorenzo the Magnificent the centre round
which every thing revolves, he had made the history of literature itself the
professed sub-
I am just now reduced to regret, my dear friend, that I have taken such small paper. It cuts short what I was going to tell you of General Paoli, whom I met the other day. Had it been thirty years ago, it would have made my heart beat stronger. He told us a good deal about his godson and aid-de-camp Buonaparte, who was going to write Paoli's annals, when he was called upon to give ample matter for his own annals.
My dear Mrs. Beecroft,
Why have I not written to you? Ah, why indeed! I wish you would furnish me
with a good reason. Long ago I should have done it, it is true .... And pray
when do you and the lovely ---- and ---- go to France? for I take it for
granted that you go; and indeed you ought to go: for who would reap more
amusement and information, or communicate more of it to your friends, than
yourself? I met with three of the tourists lately. Mr. ----, who was
formerly a Grecian, is turned Egyptian: the Egyptians are the first people
in the world, the tutors of the Greeks and the inventors of all arts and
sciences. Mr. ---- deals in anecdotes and manners; and Mrs. ---- seems to
have felt most enthusiasm for the
I am glad to find you have spent the spring so pleasantly. But when you say
you made the excursion instead of coming to London, you forget that you
might have passed the latter end of a London
My brother is going to publish Letters to a young Lady on English Poetry; he is indefatigable. "I wish you were half as diligent!" say you. "Amen!" say I. Love to Eliza and Laura, and thank the former for her note. I shall always be glad to hear from either of them. How delightful must be the soft beatings of a heart entering into the world for the first time, every surrounding object new, fresh and fair, -- all smiling within and without! Long may every sweet illusion continue that promotes happiness, and ill befall the rough hand that would destroy them!
..... We came hither to take lodgings somewhere in this beautiful country,
but found none vacant; so we have been some time at Burford-Bridge, a little
quiet sort of an inn in the centre of the pleasant walks; and a few days
with our friends the C----s. This is very much of a corn country, and we are
in the midst of harvest: the window at which I am now writing looks into a
Many happy new years to you, my dear friend, and may they bring you
increasing joy in your children and your children's children, and in your
circle of friends, and in the various occupations
Yes, I have been at Bristol this summer, and spent there almost the only
month that could be called summer in the last year. I spent some days at
Bath, some at that delightful place Clifton; and I spent a day with Hannah
More and her four sisters at her charming cottage under the Mendip hills,
which she has named Barley Wood, and which is equally the seat of taste and
hospitality. We have had a meeting here for an aux-
We have had great pleasure in seeing again our friend Dr. H. after a tour
through Spain, Sicily, and Greece. Pray do you intend to learn modern Greek?
I suspect it will grow quite fashionable, from the many tourists to Athens
we have had of late; particularly if Eustace succeeds in persuading us to
have nothing to do with the French
My dear Mrs. Beecroft,
There are animals that sleep all the winter; -- I am, I believe, become one
of them:
My dear Mrs. Beecroft,
Thanks for your kind letter, and for the finest turkey I ever saw, which arrived without accident, and fulfilled the end of its being, -- its fattening at least, -- last Tuesday amid the commendations of the whole party. I cannot tell where the spirit went; but I hope it is animating some other vehicle, and rising by degrees in the scale of existence, till perhaps it may come at length (who knows) to eat turkeys itself.
I give you joy of the peace. It ought to last at least for this next twenty
years: for though I am afraid war and peace must always take their turns,
like day and night in the natural world, I think War ought to be satisfied,
as the other dark and unlovely power is, with
Our tourists are mostly now returned. Such numbers have resided more or less abroad, that I cannot help thinking the intercourse must influence in some degree the national manners, which I find by Madame de Stael are not yet to be respectable, but they plainly intimate they do not think us amiable. When I read such censure, I cannot help saying in my mind to the author, -- I wish you knew such a one, and such a one, of my acquaintance; I am sure you could not but love them. -- Yet, after all, I fear we must acknowledge something about us dry, cold, and reserved; more afraid of censure, than gratified by notice; very capable of steadiness in important pursuits, but not happy in filling up the pauses and intervals of life with ingenious trifles and spontaneous, social hilarity ........
It seems to me that there is more room for authors in history than in any
other department. It is continually growing. It is like a tree, the dead
leaves and branches of which are continually pruned and cleared away, and
fresh green shoots
My dear Mrs. Beecroft,
The state of my eyes, which have been very weak of late, and are giving me a
hint that they have served me nearly long enough, have hindered me for some
time from answering your kind letter. -- Long may you enjoy that activity
and flow of spirits which make life indeed a blessing; and which by
conversation, by the very look of a happy and social spirit, communicates
pleasure to all within its influence. But, you will say, a social spirit
often leads one to mourn. It is very true: we are just now sympathizing with
...... But what is all this to you? will you say: these are not your
acquaintance or connexions. Why, that is very true; but I have so long been
accustomed to see you take part with ready and