Hurrell Froude: Memoranda and CommentsGuiney, Louise Imogen
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Hurrell Froude: Memoranda and Comments
Guiney, Louise Imogen
Froude, Richard Hurrell, 1803-1836
‘When I come home, I mean to rat-and-be-married: _i.e._, if I can hook
in anyone to be such a fool. The great difference between a wife and a
friend is that a wife cannot cut one, and a friend can. It is a bad
thing περισσὰ φρονεῖν, so I shall certainly rat.[203] I see that …
[Henry Wilberforce][204] has … Old [Ryder’s] apostacy I knew of
before. [Isaac][205] cannot hold out long, if he is not fallen
already. So why should you and I be wiser than our neighbours?[206]
Some months ago, before I had repented of my radicalism, I was
devising a scheme for you, which was knocked on the head by my finding
from _The British Magazine_ that you were ordained by the Bishop of
Oxford.[207] For my part, I would rather have had my orders from a
Scotch Bishop, and I thought of suggesting the same to you. The stream
is purer, and, besides, it would have left one free from some
embarrassing engagements.[208] By the by, all I know about any of you
is through _The British Magazine_…. I am very thirsty for more
authentic information. Not that I would have you write to me after the
receipt of this letter, though; for by that time I shall most likely
be on my way back. I shall start as early as I can in April, and I
really begin now to think that I shall come back cured. At least
people tell me that since the weather has become cooler I have altered
for the better in appearance rapidly, and certainly I have in
strength…. For the last three weeks, I have had a horse, which I have
been cool enough to smug from the Bishop’s stables in his
absence;[209] and this, I think, has been of use to me.’
The letter to Newman, as usual, goes deeper, and touches sadly on more
intimate matters.
‘… There was a passage in a letter I have just received from my father
that made me feel so infinitely dismal, that I must write to you about
it. He says you have written to him to learn something about me, and
to ask what to do with my money. It really made me feel as if I was
dead, and you were sweeping up my remains; and, by the by, if I was
dead, why should I be cut off from the privilege of helping on the
Good Cause? I don’t know what money I left: little enough I suspect;
but, whatever it was, I am superstitious enough to think that any good
it could do “_in honorem Dei et sacrosanctæ Matris Ecclesiæ_,” would
have done something too “_in salutem animæ meæ_.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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