Hannah More to Marianne Sykes Thornton, November or December 1809

To: Mrs. Thornton
Stamped: None
Postmark: None
Seal: Red wax [removed]
Watermarks: None


MS: Cambridge University Library Add 7951/12
Published: Undetermined

shall see London no more! Home seems to be the proper place for age and sickness, for my best days have no small pain, and my best nights what a good sleeper woud call bad. Yet I admired the spirit of dear Mrs. Carter who persisted in living among her London friends in Winter till her 90th. Year!2

I have heard nothing from Miss Schim of her London journey. Whether she will let us know I cannot tell. They come to us about once a year for some weeks, we are very kind and friendly, take them home, and they never give any signs of life perhaps till that time twelvemonth, when we invite them again, if we are sick or dead it makes no difference not a single inquiry ever comes.

It is a good exercise for those who are apt to pine over petty evils to turn their eyes to the Bathursts,3 the Aucklands,4 and above all to poor Dr. Glasse.5 His is surely the consummation of human misery when there is no glimpse of comfort but in the dismal hope that his son was mad. I am distressed about writing to Mrs. N. Vansittart. Since we met in Devonshire a few letters have passed between us. I owe her [deletion] /one/ now, but know not how to write after this calamity which differs from mere death – then one knows what one has to do.6

We have been much amused with the Life of Wolsey, published in the Collection of Wordsworth, not the silly part, but the Ecclesiastical Biographer.7 Tis as amusing as a Novel; we finished by reading the Tragedy of Henry the 8th. – Surely Shakespeare must have /seen/ this Life of Wolsey written by his Secretary Cavendish.8 - By the way – among the petty exercises of patience in children I shoud put them to read old English, black letter, and bad hand writings.

When have I written so long a Scrawl? But I am not willing our correspondence should dwindle on my part. – You cannot image how overdone I am with letters – when I am very poorly I sit and moon over the unanswered heap instead of taking courage and getting rid of the debt: It hardly leaves me any time for reading; especially when my Eyes are bad – they are better thank /God/ .

In reading /part of/ your letter /aloud/ , I stumbled before I was aware on the Persian Ball, and the holy indignation it excited in a certain lady – I was sorry I read it – To be sure its being an impromptu made it silly to be angry.

I have been in much care for a most amiable friend. Mr. Dunne, of whom you must have heard Knox speak as one of the brightest ornaments of the Irish Church. He is indeed a Gem of the first water – His lungs being weak He was sent away from his pulpit for a year. His most excellent wife was in good health, but near her time.9 She passed her confinement very happily at Clifton long after which she was seized with a fever of the most afflicting kind – She who came over well is dead, /he/ who was ill is recovered! – His loss is inexpressible, so is his piety – Mr. Le Touche wrote instantly to me to get him here, I was thankful I had had the thought, and /had/ written to him to come instantly – He came but his relations being arrived he could not stay – I never saw so heroic a Sufferer – He does indeed glorify God by his behaviour. She was a woman of uncommon Merit, and [a] [tear] woman of fashion. He says her whole life was employd in leading him to heaven – Remember us all kindly to your friends

Yrs ever my dear friend most truly H More