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and lie; then six miles to Newberry, and so on. I won't tell you what my wishes are upon this occasion, nor indeed any body, here, for ever since I have been ill they have refused me every one thing I have liked. I thank you for your comedy. Lady Stanhope has seen it, and is charmed; but I am determined not to look at a line till I am quite out of pain.
You will have this letter by Captain Millbank, who is called to town by an appointment in Pye's squadron for the West Indies. I think I am something better than when I wrote you my last, though I have not been free from pain one minute since my cruel misfortune, nor slept a wink without the assistance of laudanum. The people below expect to see you on Wednesday. You must allow for, and, indeed, almost decipher my letters, but then consider, my dear sir, thirty days upon my back, &c. &c. I assure you it is with great difficulty (and many shifts I am obliged to make) I am able to scribble at all. Little Derrick will give the etiquette of the bath, and be exceedingly useful but I am quite exhausted. God bless you, sir.
SAMUEL FOOTE TO MR. GARRICK. You receive, my dear sir, this letter from your poor unfortunate friend, in the same situation as when I bad first the honour of acknowledging your kindness and humanity to me, in bed upon my back,
I was taken up to thank you for your last favour, but had scarce got through a period, when, casting my eye on the ground, I discovered a deluge of blood; in short, an artery, by what means not even Bromfield can guess, unexpectedly burst, and, had it happened in the night, would, most probably have drained my veins of every drop; but, thank God, the damage is over -the bleeding has been stopped this four days, and my cure proceeds as before.
We were grievously disappointed at not seeing you in your way to Bath ; but we shall not so readily forgive (if we happen to be here) your neglecting us at your return. What are band. boxes, servants, or friends ?—if you had with you twenty joblinwiskeys, our house has stomach for them all.
I saw by the papers, that the ingenious Mr. Smith, the Æsopus of Covent Garden, had advertised my piece of the Commissary for his benefit, reduced into two acts; I could not help thinking that doing it at all, at this very particular time, was a little unkind, but that lopping my work at the same time that I was losing my limbs was sather inhuman. I have remonstrated to Mr. Beard, and I believe with some warmth, intimating, that if my poetical limbs wanted amputation, the professors of his house were the very last people that I should choose for my surgeons; that I had formerly seen them treat some cases of a similar nature so very unskilfully, that I could not help considering them as a parcel of quacks, who impudently wanted to impose presumption for ability on the public. As Mr. Beard
is, I believe, more used to matters of fact than metaphor, I gave the letters to Mr. Bromfield, to whom I have referred our modern Tigellius for the explanation of any puzzling passage; indeed this dirty affair flurried me greatly, wbicb, at that critical juncture, might bave been readily spared.
You do, my dear sir, but bare justice to my warm and worthy friends in calling them benevolent,-one glance of your penetrating eye (why would you pass us by ?) would have instructed you, that there are virtues now in the world which have been long supposed to exist only in books : but this is not a time, por am I in a con. dition (if I ever shall) to treat this subject with the force and dignity it deserves.
I had read and raised an altar to my unknown friend, for the epigrams your pious pen had produced. I use that epithet, as it corresponds with one of your lines, where you have produced one of the first and strongest moral principles, clad in the true spirit of poetry,
Misfortune's sacred bed. The author of that sentiment was the only one that I wanted or wished to know,-as to all the rest, they neither gave me uneasiness nor excited my curiosity ; I supposed some of them to have been my acquaintance from Pope's principle, that each bad poet is as bad a friend. And now, sir, let me say grace to your beverage. May the tepid streams, administered to you by the priestess of the pumproom, restore you to your friends in the capital as vigorous in body as you are in mind; and then, if we are to judge by your last production, your state of health was never more firmly established. All here join in wishing you and Mrs. Garrick every human happiness. Dear sir, yours most sincerely and affectionately,
SAMUEL FOOTE TO MR. GARRICK.
Cannon Park, Wednesday. I THINK friendship is by somebody emphatically called the balsam of life. I honour the author, be he sacred or profane, since nothing has, I am sure, so much contributed to soothe the solitude, and mitigate the anguish of my bed of sickness and of sorrow, as dear Mr. Garrick's very kind and sympathizing letters.
Perhaps I have sustained this fiery trial with a little more fortitude than was expected from so equivocal a character ; but, whether from our original construction we are furnished with a secret resource of animal spirits, that but wait for the occasion to rush to our aid,—or whether “ present fears are less than horrible imaginings," I can't say that I have experienced either much dejection or impatience; and yet I have gone through operations, that the whole world should not bribe me to see performed on another. Scis. sors, knives, saws, lancets, and caustics are now grown familiar to me; and as to potions-what bushels of bark have I taken! Poets talk of their Dryades and Faunes, the fabulous tenants of forests and groves, now I have literally swal. lowed a wood; and I don't suppose but that my inside is as well tanned as a buckskin pair of breeches : but that process is now at an end ; my pains are abated, my opiates are withdrawn, and my wound visibly healing every day. The pharmacopals of the neighbouring villages—you know them-I make no doubt but Hampton boasts one at least,-a set of ingenious gentlemen, who deck themselves as the heathen mythologists did the goddess of Hunting, with triple titles; she, indeed, was Luna in heaven, Diana on earth, and Hecate in hell; but they are physicians, surgeons, and apothecaries in the compass of half a score miles : nay, it is great odds if they are contented with that,-you rarely see a row of stumps on a red rag, and a pewter porringer of blood in a country window, but the shop within can furnish you with coffee or calomel, rappee snuff or rhubarb. My Æsculapius from Newberry has a tolerable collateral support from vending candles and soap: whilst his Galenical brother at Overton depends chiefly on mops, brushes, and Birmingham ware ; but, however, these sons of Apollo (as legitimate, I warrant, as Derrick) flatter me with the hopes of getting to town in a fortnight, but I think they are mistaken :pray when do you turn your back on the Bath ?