Poyntz goes this morning to Villa Franca; I am to be her knight, and am just equipped to mount my Rosinanté; Mademoiselle Annette is to go upon Lady Mary Somerset's ass; so we shall make a formidable procession. It is a delightful morning, and I hope Mrs. Poyntz will be pleased with her jaunt. We have had very bad weather, violent rains, and storms of thunder in the night, a close, sultry heat all day, and a very sharp cold every evening; but the spring seems now to be pretty well settled; and I fancy we shall have a continually clear sky, and a mild air, as long as we stay. We all promise ourselves great pleasure in our journey homewards; and we have great reason to believe it will be enchantingly pleasant. I have every day more and more reason to be pleased with the unfolding of my pupil's disposition; your Ladyship will perhaps think these to be words of course, and what you might naturally expect from any other person in my situation; but, believe me, I say them upon no other motive than their truth; for if it were my nature to speak to any one what I do not think, I should at least speak truly to your Ladyship, of whom I am, with the greatest truth, The obliged and grateful humble servant, WILLIAM JONES. Το To Lady SPENCER. Paris, 4th June, 1770. Your Ladyship will be surprized at receiving such a parcel of papers from me; but I am willing to make amends for not writing all last month. The truth is, I had nothing particular to say at that time; but on my arrival at Paris, I found a letter from my friend Reviczki, with a very spirited ode composed by him upon the marriage of the Archduchess. Í dare I dare say Lord Spencer will like it, and I therefore take the liberty to inclose it for him. I have marked in this manner two or three passages that are faulty; and I have put this sign to one stanza that I do not quite understand. I have also sent with it the Baron's letter to me, which will serve as a comment upon many parts of the ode. You will have heard of the shocking accidents that happened here the night of the fire-works. Above one hundred and thirty people were killed; and several people of fashion were crushed to death in their carriages. We had the good fortune to arrive here two days after this dreadful catastrophe; which perhaps has saved some of us, if not from real danger, at least from the apprehension of it. We shall not be sorry to see England again, and hope to have that pleasure very soon. Soon after my return, I think of going to Oxford for a short time: but if Lord Althorpe goes back to school this summer, as I sincerely hope he will, I shall not go to College till August; H ! August; for I am convinced that a public school has already been, and will continue to be, of the highest advantage to him in every respect. While Mrs. Poyntz stayed at Lyons, I made an excursion to Geneva, in hopes of seeing Voltaire, but was disappointed. I sent him a note with a few verses, implying that the muse of tragedy had left her ancient seat in Greece and Italy, and had fixed her abode on the borders of a lake, &c. He returned this answer: "The worst of French poets "and philosophers is almost dying; age and sick"ness have brought him to his last day; he can 66 converse with nobody, and entreats Mr. Jones to excuse and pity him. He presents him with "his humble respects." But he was not so ill as he imagined; for he had been walking in his court, and went into his house just as I came to it. The servants shewed me somebody at a window, who they said was he; but I had scarce a glimpse of him. I am inclined to think that Voltaire begins to be rather serious, when he finds himself upon the brink of eternity; and that he refuses to see company, because he cannot display his former wit and sprightliness. I find my book* is published; I am not at all solicitous about its success: as I did not choose the subject myself, I am not answerable for the wild extravagance of the style, nor for the faults of the original; but if your Ladyship takes the trouble to read the dissertation at the end, you may perhaps find some new and * Translation of the Life of Nadir Shah. pleasing pleasing images. The work has one advantage, it is certainly authentic. Lady Georgiana is so good as to enquire how Soliman goes on; pray tell her he is in great affliction, as he begins to suspect the innocence of Mustafa, who is just slain. To be serious; my tragedy is just finished; and I hope to shew it to your Ladyship in a short time. I am, &c. WILLIAM JONES. De La Fontaine is with us; he seems very well, but is still weak and complaining. I must add a little stroke of French courage, which I have just heard. In the midst of all the disasters of the fireworks, the Mareschal de Richlieu was in such a panic, that he got out of his carriage, and screamed out, Est-ce qu'on veut laisser perir un Mareschal de France? N'y a-t-il personne pour secourir un Mareschal de France?-This will be an eternal joke against him!— am ! Mr. JONES to C. REVICZKI. Spa, July 1770. What an idle, unsettled fellow I I fly over Europe, scarcely stopping anywhere. We passed the winter at Nice, enjoyed the spring in France, and I am now spending the summer (if this rainy season may be so called) on the borders of Germany. I certainly can without any risk send your manuscripts from this place, and I advise you by all means to publish them. * Appendix, No. 15. They are worthy of your acknowledged talents, and will ensure you the applause of all the learned. I say this without flattery, which is indeed foreign to my character. The criticisms which I sent to you, are full of errors, and you must receive them with great allowance; for during my residence at Nice, I was wholly without ancient books, or other aids, to which I am in the habit of applying, nor do I now possess them. I have received your French letter, with an incomparable ode: I was particularly charmed with that happy transition in it; O'er kindred, or o'er friendship's bier, Disperse the gloom, and brighter blaze. Believe me, when I read these lines, I could scarcely restrain my tears; for nature has that power over me, that I am more affected by the beauties of a tender simplicity, than by the loftiest figures of poetry; and hence I am more delighted with a passage in the first Pythian ode of the divine Pindar, concerning the Muses, than by his elaborate description of the Eagle and Ætna*. What shall I send in return for your present? Accept the accompanying ode, which is at least valuable for its antiquity. You will perhaps smile; it is not an epithalamium on the marriage of Antoinette *But they on earth, or the devouring main, WEST'S Translation. |