To George Mordaunt, Esq;
YOUR raillery, my dear Mordaunt,
gives me pain; that I have the tenderest
attachment to lady Julia is certain;
but it is an attachment which has not the
least resemblance to love. I should be the
most ungrateful of mankind to make so
ill a return to the friendship lord Belmont
honours me with, and the most selfish
to entertain a wish so much to lady Julia's
disadvantage. My birth, it must be confessed,
is not unworthy even her, since
the same blood fills our veins; my father
being descended from the eldest broth
of the first earl of Belmont, great grandfather
of the present: but it would ill
become a man whose whole expectations
are limited to the inheritance of 700l. a
year (long, very long, may it be before
the greatest of all misfortunes makes even
that little mine!) to aspire to the heiress of
twice as many thousands.
What I feel for this most charming of
women is, the tenderness of a relation mixed
with that soft and lively esteem which
it is impossible to refuse to the finest understanding
and noblest mind in the world,
lodged in a form almost celestial.
Love, for I have tasted its poisoned cup,
is all tumult, disorder, madness; but my
friendship for lady Julia, warm and animated
as it is, is calm, tranquil, gentle;
productive of a thousand innocent pleasures,
but a stranger to every kind of inquietude:
it does not even disturb my rest, a certain
consequence of love, even in its earliest approaches.
Having thus vindicated myself from all
suspicion of a passion, which is the present
situation of my fortune I should think almost
a criminal one, I proceed to obey you
in giving you the portraits of my noble
friends; though, I assure you, my sketches
will be very imperfect ones.
Lord Belmont, who lives eight months
of the year at this charming seat, with all
the magnificence and hospitality of our ancient
English nobility, is about sixty years
old; his person is tall, well made, graceful;
his air commanding, and full of dignity:
he has strong sense, with a competent
share of learning, and a just and delicate
taste for the fine arts; especially musick,
which he studyed in Italy, under the best
masters that region of harmony afforded.
His politeness is equally the result of a
natural desire of obliging, and an early
and extensive acquaintance with the great
world.
A liberality which scarce his ample possessions
can bound, a paternal care of all
placed by Providence under his protection,
a glowing zeal for the liberty, prosperity,
and honour of his country, the noblest spirit
of independence, with the most animated
attachment and firmest loyalty to his accomplished
sovereign, are traits too strongly
marked to escape the most careless observer;
but those only who are admitted
to his nearest intimacy are judges of his
domestic virtues, or see in full light the tender,
the polite, attentive husband, the fond
indulgent parent, the warm unwearied
friend.
If there is a shade in this picture, it is a
prejudice, perhaps rather too strong, in
favour of birth, and a slowness to expect
very exalted virtues in any man who cannot
trace his ancestors as far back, at least,
as the Conquest.
Lady Belmont, who is about six years
younger than her lord, with all the strength
of reason and steadiness of mind generally
confined to the best of our sex, has all the
winning softness becoming the most amiable
of her own; gentle, affable, social,
polite, she joins the graces of a court to
the simplicity of a cottage; and, by an
inexpressible ease and sweetness in her address,
makes all who approach her happy:
impartial in her politeness, at her genial
board no invidious distinctions take
place, no cold regards damp the heart of
an inferior: by a peculiar delicacy of good
breeding and engaging attention to every
individual, she banishes reserve, and diffuses
a spirit of convivial joy around her:
encouraged by her notice, the timid lose
their diffidence in her presence, and often
surprized exert talents of pleasing they
were before themselves unconscious of
possessing.
The best, and most beloved of wives,
of mothers, of mistresses, her domestic character
is most lovely; indeed all her virtues
are rendered doubly charming, by a certain
grace, a delicate finishing, which it is much
easier to feel than to describe.
The œconomy of her house, which she
does not disdain herself to direct, is magnificent
without profusion, and regular
without constraint. The effects of her
cares appear, the cause is unobserved; all
wears the smiling easy air of chance,
though conducted with the most admirable
order.
Her form is perfectly elegant; and her
countenance, without having ever been
beautiful, has a benignity in it more engaging
than beauty itself.
Lady Anne Wilmot, my father, and
myself, make up the present party at Belmont.
Lady Anne, who without regularity
of features has that animation which is the
soul of beauty, is the widow of a very rich
country gentleman; if it be just to prostitute
the name of gentleman to beings of
his order, only because they have estates
of which they are unworthy, and are descended
from ancestors whom the dishonour:
who, when riding post through
Europe, happened to see her with her father
at Turin; and as she was the handsomest
Englishwoman there, and the whim
of being marryed just then seized him,
asked her of Lord, who could not refuse
his daughter to a jointure of 3000l.
a year. She returned soon to England
with her husband, where, during four years,
she enjoyed the happiness of listening to
the interesting histories of the chace, and
entertaining the — shire hunt at dinner: her
slumbers broke by the noise of hounds in a
morning, and the riotous mirth of less rational
animals at night. Fortune however
at length took pity on her sufferings; and
the good 'squire, overheating himself at a
fox-chace, of which a fever was the consequence,
left her young and rich, at full liberty
to return to the chearful haunts of
men, with no very high ideas of matrimonial
felicity, and an abhorrence of a country
life, which nothing but her friendship
for Lady Belmont could have one moment
suspended.
A great flow of animal spirits, and a
French education, have made her a Coquet,
though intended by nature for a much superior
character. She is elegant in her
dress, equipage, and manner of living, and
rather profuse in her expences. I had first
the honour of knowing her last winter at
Paris, from whence she has been returned
about six weeks, three of which she has
passed at Belmont.
Nothing can be more easy or agreeable
than the manner of living here; it is perfectly
domestic, yet so diversified with amusements
as to exclude that satiety from which
the best and purest of sublunary enjoyments
are not secure, if continued in too
uniform a course. We read, we dance, we
ride, we converse; we play, we dance, we
sing; join the company, or indulge in pensive
solitude and meditation, just as fancy
leads; liberty, restrained alone by virtue
and politeness, is the law, and inclination
the sovereign guide, at this mansion of true
hospitality. Free from all the shackles of
idle ceremony, the whole business of Lord
Belmont's guests, and the highest satisfaction
they can give their noble host, is to be happy,
and to consult their own taste entirely
in their manner of being so.
Reading, musick, riding, and conversation
are Lord Belmont's favourite pleasures,
but none that are innocent are excluded;
balls, plays, concerts, cards, bowls, billiards,
and parties of pleasure round the
neighbouring country, relieve each other;
and, whilst their variety prevents any of
them from satiating, all conspire to give a
double poignancy to the sweeter joys of
domestic life, the calm and tender hours
which this charming family devote to the
endearing conversation of each other, and
of those friends particularly honoured with
their esteem.
The house, which is the work of Inigo
Jones, is magnificent to the utmost degree;
it stands on the summit of a slowly-rising
hill, facing the South; and, beyond a
spacious court, has in front an avenue of
the tallest trees, which lets in the prospect
of a fruitful valley, bounded at a distance
by a mountain, down the sides of which
rushes a foaming cascade, which spreads into
a thousand meandering streams in the vale
below.
The gardens and park, which are behind
the house, are romantic beyond the wantonness
of imagination; and the whole adjoining
country diversified with hills, vallies,
woods, rivers, plains, and every charm of
lovely unadorned nature.
Here Lord Belmont enjoys the most
unmixed and lively of all human pleasures,
that of making others happy. His estate
conveys the strongest idea of the partiarchal
government; he seems a beneficent father
surrounded by his children, over whom
reverence, gratitude, and love, give him an
absolute authority, which he never exerts
but for their good: every eye shines with
transport at his sight; parents point him
out to their children; the first accents of
prattling infancy are taught to lisp his honoured
name; and age, supported by his
bounteous hand, pours out the fervent prayer
to Heaven for its benefactor.
To a life like this, and to an ardent love
of independence, Lord Belmont sacrifises
all the anxious and corroding cares of avarice
and ambition; and finds his account in
health, freedom, chearfulness, and "that
sweet peace which goodness bosoms ever."
Adieu! I am going with Lord Belmont and
my father to Acton-Grange, and shall not
return till Thursday.
H. Mandeville.
