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wrote it for Braham. I suppose the air not correct.
Did I beg of you to see and to direct James as to the erections at the barn ? don't forget it; because, perhaps, I may see the Priory once again. I dreamt last night of your four-horse stable, and was glad to find all well.
You can scarcely believe what a good humoured compromise I am coming into with human malice, and folly, and unfixedness. By reducing my estimate of myself, every collateral circumstance sets out modestly on the journey of humility and good sense, from the sign of the Colossus to that of the Pigmy, where the apartments are large and ample for the lodger and his train.
Just as before, the post is on my heels,Richard has only time to put this in the office. I shall probably soon write more at leisure.Compliments at the hill : ditto repeated shaking the bottle.
J. P. C.
The Scotch indorser of this gave me my dinner yesterday ;-champagne and soda.
He votes with the minister. I gave a lecture, and got glory for rebuking a silly fellow, that tried to sing an improper song in the presence of his son, " Thunders of applause.”
MR. CURRAN TO R. HETHERINGTON, ESQ.
Cheltenham. I HAVE not been well here—these old blue devils, I fear, have got a lease of me. I wonder the more at it, because I have been in a constant round of very kind and pleasant society. Tomorrow Sir Frederick Falkener and I set out for London. I don't turn my face to the metropolis con amore, but the Duke of Sussex might not take it well if I did not call upon him-so I go, being at once an humble friend and a patriot. Low as I have been myself in spirits, I could not but be attracted with the style of society and conversation here, particularly the talents and acquirements of females,-I am sorry to say, few of them our country women. The vulgarity, too, and forwardness of some of our heroes quite terrible. On the whole, however, perhaps, I am the better for the jaunt.
MR. CURRAN TO D, LUBE, ESQ. DUBLIN. DEAR LUBE,
London, 1814. As I sit down to write, I am broken in upon. In sooth, I had little to say ;-the mere sending this is full proof that I have escaped being supped upon by Jones's landlord, or any of his subjects. I sailed Wednesday night, and arrived here at half past six this morning, sour sad. Kings and generals are as cheap as dirt, and yet so much
more valuable a thing as lodging as dear as two eggs a penny. Saturday, not being a day of business in the house, I met nobody; though I did not go to bed on my arrival. The little I have heard confirms the idea you know I entertained of the flatness of a certain political project; it could not pass unopposed, and in such a conflict, the expenditure of money to make a voter a knave, that you might be an honest senator, would, in such a swarm of locusts, surpass all calculation. However, I know nothing distinctly as yet, therefore I merely persevere in the notion I stated to you.
I have just seen the immortal Blucher. The gentlemen and ladies of the mob huzza him out of his den, like a wild beast to his offal; and this is repeated every quarter of an hour, to their great delight, and for aught appears, not at all to his dissatisfaction. I am now going to dine with a friend, before whose house the illustrious monarchs proceed to their surfeit at Guildhall. No doubt we shall have the newspapers in a state of eructation for at least a week. But I must close.
J. P. C.
MR. CURRAN TO D. LUBE, ESQ. DUBLIN.
MY DEAR LUBE,
London, June, 1814. I am not many days in London; yet am I as sick of it as ever I was of myself. No doubt it is not a favourable moment for society ; politics spoil every thing; it is a perpetual tissue of plots, cabals, low anxiety, and disappointment. Every thing I see disgusts and depresses me: I look back at the streaming of blood for so many years; and every thing every where relapsed into its former degradation, France rechained, Spain again saddled for the priests, -and Ireland, like a bastinadoed elephant, kneeling to receive the paltry rider: and what makes the idea more cutt her fate the work of her own ignorance and fury. She has completely lost all sympathy here, and I see no prospect for her, except a vindictive oppression and an endlessly increasing taxation. God give us, not happiness, but patience !
I have fixed to set out for Paris on Tuesday with Mr. W. He is a clever man--pleasant, informed, up to every thing, can discount the bad spirits of a friend, and has undertaken all trouble. I don't go for society, it is a mere name ; but the thing is to be found nowhere, even in this chilly region. I question if it is much better in Paris. Here the parade is gross, and cold, and vulgar; there it is, no doubt, more flippant, and the atti. tude more graceful; but in either place is not society equally a tyrant and a slave? The judg. ment despises it, and the heart renounces it. We seek it because we are idle-we are idle because we are silly; the natural remedy is some social intercourse, of which a few drops would restore ; but we swallow the whole phial, and are sicker of the remedy than we were of the disease. We do not reflect that the variety of converse is found only with a very few, selected by our and is ever lost in a promiscuous rabble, in whom we cannot have any real interest, and where all is monotony. We have had it sometimes at the Priory, notwithstanding the bias of the ball that still made it roll to a particular side. I have enjoyed it, not long since, for a few hours in a week with as small a number, where too there was no smartness, no wit, no pretty affectation, no repartee; but where the heart will talk, the tongue may be silent,--a look will be a sentence, and the shortest phrase a volume. No; be assured, if the fancy is not led astray, it is only in the coterie that the thirst of the animal being can be slaked, or the pure luxury and anodyne of his life be found. He is endeared and exalted by being surpassed; he cannot be jealous of the wealth, however greater than his, which is expended for his pleasure, and which, in fact, he feels to be his own. As well might an alderman become jealous of the calapash in which his soul delights before the Lord. But we are for ever mistaking the plumage for the bird : perhaps we are justly punished by seeking happiness where it is not given by nature to find it. Eight or ten lipes back I looked at my watch; I saw 'twas half past six, the hour at which dinner, with a friend or two, was to be precisely on the table. I wentwas presented to half a dozen dial plates that I never saw before, and that looked as if they had never told the hour of the day. I sat gagged-stayed twenty minutes—came back to write, leaving Richard to bring me word if, between this and to-morrow, the miserable mess shall be flung into the trough. How complete a picture this of glare without worth, and attitude