The celebrated London physician, who said that he
was not paid for three weeks’ attendance in
the country, by a draft of two thousand pounds; and
who, when the pen was put into his own hands, wrote
four in the place of two, would smile in scorn at
the generosity of Mr. Gresham and the disinterestedness
of Dr. Percy.
“MY DEAR ERASMUS,
“Your friend and patient, Mr. Gresham, was so
eager to take your advice, and so quick in his movements,
that your letter, announcing his intended visit, reached
us but a few days before his arrival at the Hills.
And—mark how great and little events, which
seem to have no possible link of connexion, depend
upon one another—Alfred or Mr. Gresham must
have sat up all night, or slept on the floor, had
not Alfred, that morning, received a letter from Mrs.
Hungerford, summoning him to town to draw her son’s
marriage settlements. It is thought that Colonel
Hungerford, whose leave of absence from his regiment
has, by special favour, been repeatedly protracted,
will be very soon sent abroad. Lady Elizabeth
Pembroke has, therefore, consented to his urgent desire
for their immediate union; and Alfred will, I am sure,
give them as little reason as possible to complain
of the law’s delay. Lady Elizabeth, who
has all that decision of mind and true courage which
you know is so completely compatible with the most
perfect gentleness of disposition and softness, even
timidity of manners, resolves to leave all her relations
and friends, and to go abroad. She says she knew
what sacrifices she must make in marrying a soldier,
and she is prepared to make them without hesitation
or repining.
“And now to return to your friend, Mr. Gresham.
The more we see of him the more we like him.
Perhaps he bribed our judgment a little at first by
the kind, affectionate manner in which he spoke of
you; but, independently of this prepossession, we
should, I hope, soon have discovered his merit.
He is a good English merchant. Not a ’M.
Friport, qui scait donner, mais qui ne scait pas vivre,’
but a well-bred, well-informed gentleman, upright,
liberal, and benevolent, without singularity or oddities
of any sort. His quiet, plain manners, free from
ostentation, express so well the kind feelings of
his mind, that I prefer them infinitely to what are
called polished manners. Last night Rosamond
and I were amusing ourselves by contrasting him with
our recollection of the polished M. de Tourville—but
as you were not at home at the memorable time of the
shipwreck, and of M. de Tourville’s visit, you
cannot feel the force of our parallel between these
two beings, the most dissimilar I have ever seen—an
English merchant and a diplomatic Frenchman.
You will ask, what put it into our heads to make the
comparison? A slight circumstance which happened
