Do Mr. Walpole's works sell, and is his Love Story that you once read to me in them? I liked the letters to Hannah More mightily. If Mr. Bunbury's Little Gray Man is printed, do send it hither; the ladies at Llangollen are dying for it. They like those old Scandinavian tales and the imitations of them exceedingly; and tell me about the prince and princess of this loyal country, one province of which alone had disgraced itself; and now no Anglesey militiaman is spoken to by the Cymrodorion, but all completely sent to Coventry, for nobody wants them in Ireland. The mysterious expedition of Buonaparte will I hope end at worst in revolutionizing the Greek Islands, and restoring the old names to Peloponnæsus, Euboea, &c. I should be sorry he ever got to India, but waking the Turks from their long sleep will not grieve me. The Knights of Malta make a triste figure at last; I suppose Mr. Weishoupt's emissaries were beforehand with the hero of Italy, as they call him. My husband is particularly disgusted with the people that exalt Buonaparte's personal courage and valorous deeds. "He goes nowhere unless he is called," says Mr. Piozzi; if he wanted to show his prowess, why did not he come here, or to Ireland? we would have shown him sport; but like Caliban, those fellows will be wise henceforward and sue for grace, and worship the French no more, unless they are still greater blunderers than even I take them for, who am ever, dear Sir, yours faithfully, To the Rev. Daniel Lysons. DEAR MR. LYSONS, H. L. P. Brynbella, 5th Jan. 1796. After making repeated inquiries for you of all our common friends, I begin to find out that the best way is to ask yourself. Dear Siddons was always a slow correspondent, though a kind well wisher; and she has so much to do in good earnest, that we must forgive her not sitting down to write letters either of fact or sentiment; for a little of both these I apply to you, and beg a little chat for information of what is going forward. Tell me, in the first place, concerning your own health and your wicked brother's, who forgets his old correspond ent very shamefully; after that, let the sedition bills or the Shakespear manuscripts take post according to the bustle made about them in London. Make me understand why Mr. Hayley writes Milton's life, and why Doctor Anderson publishes Johnson's. Those roads are so beaten they will get dust in their own eyes sure, instead of throwing any into the eyes of their readers; at this distance from the scence of action I cannot guess their intents. Tell what other new books attract notice, and what becomes of the Whig Club now 't is divided like Paris into sections. I fancy France will be divided into sections at last, a bit to Royalists, another bit to Republicans; and perhaps the very name of a nation so disgraced by crimes and follies will be lost forever. No matter! I long to see Burke's letter to Arthur Young: his predictions have the best claim to attention of any living wight. pray what becomes of the man who set mankind a staring this time last year? he is in a madhouse, is not he? We had a slight earthquake about eight or ten weeks ago, and such extraordinary weather as never did I witness; very providential sure that it should continue so warm and mild and open while bread remains at such an advanced price. Yesterday the prospect was clear and bright as spring; nor have we seen ice hitherto; but storms enough to blow the very house down, and I fear prevent our West India fleet from ever arriving at its place of destination. A beautiful prismatic halo round the moon in an elliptic form very elegant on Christmas Day, was said by our rural philosophers to be a rare but certain præcursor of tempest, and so it proved I was, however, glad to have seen a meteor so un common. - Has your brother examined any of the gold from our new mine in Ireland? The bishop showed us some, and Mr. Lloyd, I think, sent specimens to Sir Joseph Banks, it is supposed purer, and less drugged with alloy than what comes immediately from Peru, could we but get enough of it. Meanwhile I had half a ticket in the Irish Lottery with Mr. Murphy, but can hear nothing either of my fortune or my partner. Take compassion do, and send us a long letter. Mr. Piozzi adds his best compliments to mine, with wishes of a happy New Year. The piano forte is not quite neglected, though he has lost Mrs. Bagot, who sings such sweet duets. Cecilia and her husband are well and merry; my other daughters write me word from Clifton that they like Mrs. Pennington and attend her benefit balls, which I am glad of. You will expect no news from me, but I shall be very desirous to receive your thanks for obliging inquiries. They are all I have to send, except the truest regards of Brynbella to Putney; and pray tell me that those agreeable Miss Pettiwards are well who have probably quite forgotten by this time, dear Mr. Lyson's Ever faithful humble servant, H. L. PIozzi. To the Rev. Daniel Lysons. Brynbella, Sunday. (post-mark, 1796.) DEAR MR. LYSONS, You have at last written me so kind and so entertaining a letter, that no paper on my part shall be wasted in reproaches; I thank you very kindly, but you should never suppose me informed of things which you cannot help hearing; but they escape me easily enough. I do hear of the Arch Duke's successes, however, and of poor Italy's disgrace; I hear of peace too, when shall we see it? Mr. Ireland is a pleasant gentleman indeed, and his last act his best act, in my mind; absolution follows confession; I have done being angry with him now. There is a note in Mr. Malone's pamphlet * for which I would give half a dozen publications of fifty pages each concerning the times; it contains my sentiments so exactly that I may easily commend the writer's good sense and sound judgment. The mysteries of Carlton House surpass those of Udolpho: may they end as those do, in mere nihility. I will not quarrel with you for making no reply to my questions about "Camilla," † because I have read it myself, and because these are really not times for any man of the living world to waste his moments in weighing of feathers; he, however, who neglects to read Burke's last pamphlet, loses much of a very rational pleasure. I turn the page to talk of yours and your brother's discov* Against the Ireland forgeries. † Madame D'Arblay's novel. There are eries,* of which I honestly wish you much joy. medals at Capo di Monte with a pagan triumph on one side, and on the other the monogram of Christ; but connoisseurs told me those were Constantine's, who was, you know, enrolled among the heathen gods; but I can give no account of its connection with a temple to Neptune, and what a little temple it is! only thirty feet long; are you sure it is a temple after all? We had a base-born Constantine in Britayne, had we not, about Honorius's time? he made his son Cæsar if I remember well; was he in Dorsetshire? or was this long room mere private property, and Neptune nothing but an ornament,—as he is now? I should like to know if the was concealed or plainly set in view. Christians wore them of divers kinds I believe in places of persecution, much as the Royalists in France carried the effigies of Louis Seize about them in unsuspected forms; and the ill treatment of those who professed our religion did not cease immediately in remote parts of the empire, although it ended in the capital after the outspread Labarum had swept its foes away. Perhaps, too, the mark was not unknown to Constantine, when he saw it somehow miraculously displayed with the Greek words expressive of In hoc Signo vinces under it; perhaps (but these are too bold conjectures) it had been a private sign among Christians before, and was exalted only — not first recognized at the grand battle between him and Maxentius. The 24th chapter of St. Matthew and the 30th verse, give one an idea that it shall again appear; as the sign of the Son of Man is there spoken of as preceding our Saviour's second coming. There are medals with another monogram upon them resembling the arbitrary mark of a planet, with a triumph on the other side and a hand held out from the clouds; if they mean Constantine, 't is awkwardly expressed, because he refused to triumph after the ancient manner. I doubt whether Ætius, thrice consul, to whom the groans of the Britons was a Christian; Placidia we know was. Could he have had any share in your marine worship? When the sea drove them back to the barbarians who by dint of num * Of Roman antiquities at Woodchester, on which Mr. Samuel Lysons based two valuable publications. bers forced them forward on the sea, perhaps they tried what pleasing old Neptune might do for them; some heathens in the Roman army might recommend the measure. Numberless are the connections between Christian and pagan ornaments in Italy. I saw a Madonna in the Vatican with Cybele's tower on her head, and other insignia of that goddess, from the workman's confusion, as it appears, between Mater Dei and Mater Deorum ; and there is an altar in the church where Sannazarius reposes at Naples, decorated with the story of Jupiter and Leda. But I have left no room for Mr. Piozzi's compliments: he talks of being at Streatham Park early next spring, where I hope to thank you for many a kind letter received before that time. Write soon, do, and believe me ever with just esteem, Dear Sir, yours and your brother's obliged To the Rev. Daniel Lysons. H. L. P. Brynbella, Thursday. (No other date, and no post-mark.) DEAR MR. LYSONS, Accept a renewal of inquiries, literary and domestic; but 't is for yourself I inquire; your brother, we know, is well and busy with his subterranean discoveries. What statues has he found? they will be very valuable; and tell me for mercy's sake what this Apology for the Bible * means: we live in fine times sure when the Bible wants an apology from the bishops. How is Mr. Burke's book received? and what will his regicide peace be? I see no sign of peace except in the books: for they make them ready to battle in all parts of the world, and we shall have the Turks upon us directly if we chase French ships into their very harbors so. No matter! my half-crown for Flo shall be willingly contributed, though I do think seriously that the Dog Tax and Repeal of Game Laws will have an exceeding bad effect on the country, where gentlemen will want inducements to remain when hunting and coursing and shooting are at an end. Horses will lower in price, however, and little oats will be sown at all. I think democracy in all her insidiousness could not have contrived a more certain principle of levelling, and * Bishop Watson's celebrated answer to Paine and Gibbon. |