Barford Abbey, a Novel: In a Series of LettersGunning, Mrs. (Susannah)
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Barford Abbey, a Novel: In a Series of Letters
Gunning, Mrs. (Susannah)
Epistolary fiction, English -- 18th century; Gothic fiction
How infinite,--how dazzling the beauty of holiness!--Affliction seems to
have threaten'd this amiable family, only to encrease their
love,--their reverence,--their admiration of Divine
Omnipotence.--Blessings may appear, as a certain great man remarks,
under the shape of pain, losses, and disappointments;--but let us have
patience, and we shall see them in their own proper figures.
If rewards even in this world attend the _virtuous_, who would be
_depraved?_--Could the loose, the abandon'd, look in on this happy
mansion, how would their sensual appetites be pall'd!--How would they
hate,--how detest the vanity,--the folly that leads to vice!--If
pleasure is their pursuit, here they might see it speaking at _mouth_
and _eyes_:--_pleasures_ that fleet not away;--_pleasures_ that are
carried beyond the grave.
What a family is this to take a wife from!--Lord Darcey's happiness is
insur'd:--in my conscience, there will not be such another couple in
England.
Preparations are making to welcome the lovely successor of this ancient
house;--preparations to rejoice those whose satisfactions are
scanty,--to clothe the naked,--to feed the hungry,--to let the stately
roof echo with songs and mirth from a croud of chearful, honest, old
tenants.
I often hear Mrs. Jenkings crying out in extasy,--My angel!--my sweet
angel!--As to the old gentleman and Edmund, they actually cannot refrain
from tears, when Miss Powis's name is mention'd.--Sir James and her
Ladyship are never easy without these good folks.--It has ever been an
observation of mine, that at an unexpected fortunate event, we are fond
of having people about us who feel on the same passion.
Mr. Morgan is quite his own man again:--he has been regaling himself
with a fine hunt, whilst I attended Sir James and my Lady in an airing
round the park.--After dinner we were acquainted with all his losses and
crosses in the dog and horse way.--He had not seen _Filley_ rubb'd down
this fortnight:--the huntsman had lost three of his best hounds:--two
spaniels were lame;--and one of his running horses glander'd.--He
concluded with swearing, as things turn'd out, he did not matter it
_much_;--but had it happen'd three weeks since; he should have drove all
his servants to the devil.--Enough of Mr. Morgan.--Adieu,
Molesworth!--Forget not my congratulations to your noble, happy, friend.
RISBY.
LETTER XL.
The Honourable GEORGE MOLESWORTH
to RICHARD RISBY, Esq;
_Dover_.
All is happiness, Dick!--I see nothing else; I hear of nothing else.--It
is the _last_ thing I take leave of at night;--the _first_ thing I meet
in the morning.--_Yesterday_ was full of it!--_yesterday_ I dined with
Mr. and Mrs. Powis and their charming daughter, at the Banker's.--To
look back, it seems as if I had gone through all the vexations of my
life in the last three weeks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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