The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay Volume Ii Part 78

"O, I thank you," he cried, earnestly "I am indeed quite ashamed of the incessant misappropriation of that word."

"No, no," cried I; "I only tire of it because they seem to think, when once the word logic and your name are combined, they have completely stated all. However, in what little I have heard, I could have suspected you to have been prepared with a speech ready written, had I not myself heard just before all the arguments which it answered."

I then added that I was the less surprise(! at this facility of language, from having heard my brother declare he knew no man who read Greek with that extraordinary rapidity--no, not Dr. Parr, nor any of the professed Grecians, whose peculiar study it had been through life.

This could be nothing, he said, but partiality.

"Not mine, at least," cried I, laughing, "for Greek excellence is rather Out Of my sphere of panegyric!"

Well," cried he, laughing too at my disclaiming, "'Tis' your brother's partiality. However, 'tis one I must try not to lose.

I must take to my Greek exercises again."

They will do you a world of good, thought I, if they take you but from your prosecution-exercises.

MORE TALK WITH MR. WINDHAM.

We then talked of Mr. Burke. "How finely," I cried, "he has spoken! with what fullness of intelligence, and what fervour!"

He agreed, with delighted concurrence. "Yet,--so much so long!"

I added.

"True!" cried he, ingenuously, yet concerned. "What pity he can never stop!"

And then I enumerated some of the diffuse and unnecessary paragraphs which had weakened his cause, as well as his speech.

He was perfectly candid, though always with some reluctance.

"But a man who speaks in public," he said, "should never forget what will do for his auditors: for himself alone, it is not enough to think ; but for what is fitted, and likely to be interesting to them."

"He wants nothing," cried I, "but a flapper."

"Yes, and he takes flapping inimitably."

"You, then," I cried, "should be his flapper."

"And sometimes," said he, smiling, "I am."

"O, I often see," said I, "of what use you are to him. I

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see you watching him,--reminding, checking him in turn,--at least, I fancy all this as I look into the managers' box, which is no small amus.e.m.e.nt to me,--when there is any commotion there!"

He bowed; but I never diminished from the frank unfriendliness to the cause with which I began. But I a.s.sured him I saw but too well how important and useful he was to them, even without speaking.

"Perhaps," cried he, laughing, "more than with speaking."

"I am not meaning to talk Of that now," said I, "but yet, one thing I will tell you: I hear you more distinctly than any one; the rest I as often miss as catch, except when they turn this way,--a favour Which you never did me!"

"No, no, indeed!" cried he; "to abstract myself from all, is all that enables me to get on." And then, with his native candour, he cast aside prejudice, and very liberally praised several points in this poor persecuted great man.

I had seen, I said, an initiation from Horace, which had manifested, I presumed, his scholars.h.i.+p."

"O, ay," cried he, "an Ode to Mr. Sh.o.r.e, who is one of the next witnesses. Burke was going to allude to it, but I begged him not. I do not like to make their lords.h.i.+ps smile in this grave business."

"That is so right!: cried I: "Ah, you know it IS you and your attack I have feared most all along!"

"This flattery"--cried he.

"Do not use that word any more, Mr. Windham," interrupted I; "if you do, I shall be tempted to make a very shocking speech to you--the very reverse of flattery, I a.s.sure you." He stared,-- and I went on. "I shall say,--that those who think themselves flattered--flatter themselves.!"

"What?--hey?--How?" cried he.

"Nay, they cannot conclude themselves flattered, without concluding they have de quoi to make it worth while!"

"Why, there--there may be something In that but not here!--no, here it must flow simply front general benevolence,--from a wish to give comfort or pleasure."

I disclaimed all and turned his attention again to Mr. Hastings.

"See!" I cried, "see but how thin--how ill--looks that poor little uncle of yours!"(332) Again I upbraided him with being unnatural; and lamented Mr. Hastings's

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change since I had known him in former days. "And shall I tell you," I added, "something in which you had nearly been involved with him?"

"Me?--with Mr. Hastings?"

"Yes ! and I regret it did not happen ! You may recollect my mentioning my original acquaintance with him, before I lived where I now do." '

"Yes, but where you now....I understand you,--expect ere long you may see him!"

He meant from his acquittal, and reception at the Queen's house.

And I would not contradict him.

But, however," I continued, "my acquaintance and regard began very fairly while I lived at home at my father's and indeed I regret you could not then and so have known him, as I am satisfied you would have been pleased with him, which now you cannot judge. He is so gentle-mannered, so intelligent, so una.s.suming, yet so full-minded."

I have Understood that," he answered; "yet 'tis amazing how little unison there may be between mariners and characters, and how softly gentle a man may appear without, whose nature within is all ferocity and cruelty. This is a part of mankind of which you cannot judge--of which, indeed, you can scarce form an idea."

After a few comments I continued what I had to say, which, in fact, was nothing but another malice of my own against him. I reminded him of one day in a former year of this trial, when I had the happiness of sitting at it with my dearest Mrs. Locke, in which he had been so obliging, with reiterated offers, as to propose seeing for my servant, etc.-" "Well," I continued, "I was afterwards extremely sorry I had not accepted your kindness; for just as we were going away, who should be pa.s.sing, and turn back to speak to me, but Mr. Hastings!"

'O!' he cried, 'I must come here to see you, I find!' Now, had you but been with me at that moment! I own it would have been the greatest pleasure to me to have brought you together though I am quite at a loss to know whether I ought, in that case, to have presented you to each other."

He laughed most heartily,-half, probably, with joy at his escape; but he had all his wits about him in his answer. "If you," he cried, "had been between US, we might, for once, have coalesced-- in both bowing to the same shrine!"

(322) Wednesday, November 18.-ED.

(323) Covent Garden.-ED.