Alas! in this he was premature, his brother-in-law, Henry Robinson, died of the wounds he received at the attack on St. Lazare, near Carthagena. May 12, Mrs. Donnellan writes from London—
“We are squabbling about Elections, and proving right wrong, and wrong right, just as we think it will make for some little private interest, without the least regard to truth, justice, or any notion of the good of the country. The Westminster Election was finished in a most partial manner on Friday, in favour of the Court candidates, and Lord Sundon[162] was like to be torn to pieces by the mob in revenge: this has been the subject of much talk, and last night I happened to say to a clergyman (who I thought by his gown was obliged to join with me), that I thought the dishonesty that prevailed in Elections was terrible, and corrupted the private honesty in all ranks of people, when my Parson to my surprise took up the argument that bribery in a King and his Ministers was not dishonest, but politic, and that we could not subsist without it, and ran on to prove that we must conform to the times, and if my neighbour bribes, I must do so too, to be on a foot with him or we must be undone. I own this doctrine shocks me....
“Your friend[163] told me yesterday they are a little disturbed about a law suit which is to concern the 28th. I suppose you have heard of it. ’Tis an old South Sea affair of the Father’s,[164] and very considerable. I am really concerned about it, and shall long to see them out of such a terrible situation.”
[162] William Clayton, Baron Sundon.
[163] Duchess of Portland.
[164] William Henry, 1st Duke of Portland.
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
from a miniature in the possession of Mrs. Climenson
Emery Walker Ph. Sc.
At this period Elizabeth developed a most painful weakness of the eyes, which recurred at intervals during the rest of her life. She attributed it to reading so much at night during her absence from home while her sister was ill. The duchess writes to implore her not to work, or read, and she answers, “I follow your grace’s advice, I do not work at all, and I read by my sister’s eyes.” She had commenced dining at Mount Morris, but they would not let her go upstairs for fear of infection, so she still slept at the farm. Mr. Freind had in his last letter said, “Let us know all about you; when you set sail, i.e. when you are to be manned, and who is to be your Captain, for these things surely must be settled now.” To which she answers—
“I am not going to set sail yet; the ocean of fortune is rough, the bark of fortune light, the prosperous gale uncertain, but the Pilot must be smooth, steady and content, patient in storms, moderate and careful in sunshine, and easy in the turns of the wind, and changes of the times. Guess if these things be easily found? and without such a guide can I avoid the gulph of misfortune, the barking of envy, the deceits of the syrens, and the hypocrisy of Proteus? So I wait on the shore, scarce looking towards this land of promise, so few I find with whom I would risk the voyage. I would have wrote you a longer letter, if I had a frank, but careful of your sixpence, though regardless of your leisure, that consideration hinders me. I am at Mount Morris again.”
The duchess having commenced reading Dr. Conyers Middleton’s “Life of Cicero,” Elizabeth recommends a pamphlet called “Observations on Cicero,” written by Mr. Lyttelton,[165] but without his name being prefixed to it. She states, “Dr. Middleton compliments it in his preface slightly; it is as much a criticism as the Doctor’s is a panegyric of Tully’s action: it is a very little book, but I think wrote with great spirit and elegance.”
[165] George, afterwards Lord Lyttelton.
The following letter is from the Duchess of Portland early in June, but undated:—
“Monday morning.
“My dearest Fidget,
“You will be much surprised to receive so melancholy a letter from me after that strange medley you had last post, but yesterday morning I was told the Doctor had no hopes of my Papa; he hurt his leg some time ago, and Sergeant Dickens has had it in hand, and declared to Dr. Mead[166] he would go on no longer without another surgeon was called in, upon which Skipton was sent for, and what will be the result of their consultations to-day I dread to know; he has besides a jaundice and dropsy. He was out Friday night, and pretty well of Saturday night, and grew so much worse yesterday morning that he is not able to move. The Doctor was surprised to find such an alteration in a few hours. Oh! my dear Fidget, ’tis not possible to flatter oneself, God only knows what is best for us, therefore I am sensible I ought to be contented with what He is pleased to inflict upon us, but I cannot help my natural weakness. I can’t see to add any more, my heart and eyes are too full.”
[166] Famous physician, writer on medicine, and antiquarian.
Here Mrs. Donnellan adds, “I have but one sad moment to tell my dear Fidget that my Lord Oxford[167] died to-day.”
[167] He died in Dover Street, June 16, 1741.
The next letter from the duchess is dated June 25—
“My dearest Fidget,
“I owe you a thousand thanks for your kind letters, and if words were the only acknowledgement I could make, I should ever be bankrupt, but my affection is warm, and my fidelity will last as long as my life....
“He was sensible almost to the last, nor did not show the least regret at leaving this troublesome world, except when he took leave of me, and that was too moving a scene for me even to tell now.” ...
At the end she begs Elizabeth not to write to her, as her eyes were so bad, but to get Sarah to do so instead, and in all her trouble remembers to send two bottles of arquebusade to Matthew Robinson’s chambers which he wanted, the price being 4s. 6d. a bottle.
Edward, 2nd Earl of Oxford, was the son of Robert, 1st Earl, by his first marriage with Elizabeth Foley, sister of Thomas, 1st Lord Foley; he continued to collect the Harleian MSS.,[168] begun by his father, now in the British Museum, also innumerable books, pictures, medals, etc.; and took great interest in all archæological studies, as did his countess.
[168] Lady Oxford sold the Harleian collection of manuscripts in 1753 to the British Museum.
Elizabeth wrote to condole heartily with the duchess on her sad loss, but imploring her, for the sake of the duke and her dear little children, to endeavour to bear up under this sad blow, for father and daughter were tenderly attached to each other.
The universal panacea of bleeding—for one can only judge by the manner in which doctors applied to it for every case—had been endured by Elizabeth for the sake of her eyes, and she says “my eyes are worse for the bleeding.” She had a narrow escape at this time: her brother Matthew driving her for her health along the seashore on a high bank raised to keep off the incursion of the sea, the horse bolted, but fortunately their servant outrider was able to stop it without its bolting down either side of the bank. It is characteristic of the times that she calls a one-horse chaise, “of all things the most ridiculous!”
Mrs. Donnellan had been ill, and was ordered to Tunbridge Wells, to drink the waters. There was hope of Dr. Young being there. “I believe you will find his thoughts little confined to the place; he will entertain you with conversation much above what one generally finds there, where they talk of little but water, bread, butter, and scandal.”
On July 5 the duchess writes to say they had carried their cause in the law suit. She also expresses her joy at hearing Matthew Robinson intended to be inoculated that autumn. Elizabeth said if her eyes and general health were better, she would be inoculated too. She had just been given, “by a wise son of Æsculapius, a diabolical bolus that half killed me. I fainted away about three hours after I swallowed the notable composition, and was above an hour in such agony that if I had not waited for your letter I had certainly gone to the Elysian fields.”
A letter of Mrs. Botham’s from Elford, of which place, as well as of Yoxall, Staffordshire, her husband was Vicar, mentions a legacy left to her and her sister, Mrs. Laurence Sterne—
“My husband is in the North; his journey thither happened very opportunely, for an ancient woman whose very name I am a stranger to, has lately dyed intestate, and my Sister and self are heirs at law of her real estate, which consists of some houses at Leeds, the yearly value of them about £60. It would be well for us if we could make out a title to her personal estate, which is upwards of £5000, but that I have no hopes of.”
The duke and duchess were now at Bullstrode, and anxious for Elizabeth to come to them. The duchess gives an amusing account of a hatter’s funeral—
“A hatter of Windsor left £100 to a man on condition he would bury him according to his desire under a mulberry tree in his own garden, 10 feet deep. The assistants to drink 12 bottles of wine over his grave, and French Horns playing during the whole ceremony, and this was accordingly performed yesterday, to the great offence of Mr. Grosmith,[169] who says he was not a Christian....
“To dissect leaves[170] put ’em into water, and change the water every day, but you must take care the leaf is not blighted.”
Mrs. Donnellan writes on September 1 to say she has returned from Tunbridge Wells after a six weeks’ visit; staying with her married sister, Mrs. Clayton, and her husband, Robert Clayton, Bishop of Killala, and afterwards of Clogher. The bishop very nobly gave his wife’s paternal fortune to her sister, Anne Donnellan. Dr. Young was at Tunbridge, and Mrs. Donnellan states—
“I conversed much with Doctor Young, but I had not enough to satisfy me. We ran through many subjects, and I think his conversation much to my taste. He enters into human nature, and both his thoughts and expressions are new.”
She also mentions that Lady Thanet, accompanied by Mrs. Scott, was at Tunbridge. Mrs. Scott,[171] of Scott’s Hall, Kent, was a friend of the Robinsons. She had a large family, seven sons and seven daughters; one was lady-in-waiting to the Princess of Orange, and married a Monsieur Saumaize, a member of the suite. Her sister Caroline, or “Cally Scott” (her pet-name), was the bosom friend of Sarah Robinson, and eventually married a Mr. Best. Another, Cecilia, who died unmarried, was a friend to the Robinson family for life. To Mrs. Donnellan Elizabeth writes on September 13, and in a long letter she says—
[171] The Scotts of Scott’s Hall were one of the most ancient Kentish families, originally Balliols of Scotland.
“The time for my brother’s inoculation draws near, and though I have a very good opinion of that method of having the smallpox, yet I cannot enjoy a perfect tranquillity of mind till it is over. I would fain persuade him to have it done while I am in the country, but he will not grant my request; for my Pappa, I believe, will not let me go to Bullstrode at all, if I don’t go before that is over; and my brother therefore waits for my departure, that I may not be banished for six weeks or two months, which he imagines would be melancholy for me these long evenings, as I should have no friend with me, and am not able to divert myself with books now my eyes are bad.”
The duchess was waiting for Lady Oxford’s departure from Bullstrode. Lady Oxford is often alluded to as “the Speaker” by the duchess, the same name, as has been mentioned, was bestowed on Mrs. Robinson by her children. Elizabeth’s health being so indifferent, her parents wished her to consult Dr. Mead, and early in October she proceeded to London with her brother Tom, where she stayed a few days with Mrs. Donnellan in Bond Street, and on October 13 joined her beloved friends at Bullstrode, the duchess sending her coach to London to fetch her.
Matthew was to be inoculated as soon as the coach returned to Mount Morris from taking Elizabeth to town, as, till the smallpox appeared, he was to take the air daily in it; but the inoculation did not take, and Elizabeth’s tender fears for her brother were allayed.
The next letter of interest is on October 20, to her mother—
“I return you many thanks for your directions for the apron, which I will carefully follow; as to the silver thread I do not approve the use of it, as all great artists work for immortality, and my sister will find a little time will tarnish her work if there is a mixture of silver in it.... I honour Lord Sandwich[172] for his wise and generous contempt of money in a point in which there are other things superior to it; he bears an excellent character, there is much prudence in knowing how to separate one’s particular happiness from that which is reckoned so in the world’s opinion: if Lord Sandwich takes greater pleasure in the conversation of a fine woman than in viewing a collection of medals and pictures, he is right to prefer Miss Dolly Fane with £5000 to Miss Spinckes with £50,000.... He has a good estate sufficient for the becoming state of a nobleman.... Miss Fane is a happy woman to have a lover so great, so generous, and so good. Love has a good right over the marriages of men, but not of women; for men raise their wives to their ranks, women stoop to their husbands, if they choose below themselves. I think all our neighbours are in a marrying humour. I wish some of them had married two and twenty years ago, we should have had now a gallant young neighbourhood.”
[172] John, 4th Earl Sandwich, whose nickname later was “Jemmy Twitcher,” just engaged to Dorothy, daughter of Charles, 1st Viscount Fane.
Dr. Mead had prescribed for Elizabeth for her eyes and for a swelled lip, which annoyed her much. What should we think of a blister applied to the back to reduce a swelled lip in these days? Yet it was ordered! Writing to Sarah, she says—
“I am better than I was, but my mouth not being yet perfectly reduced, I have got a fresh blister upon my back, well may it bend with such a weight of calamities.... I have sent for my bathing Cloaths, and on Sunday night shall take a souze. I think it a pleasant remedy. I am to sit a quarter of an hour in the bath, and then go to bed and lye warm; it is to be repeated three times a week.”
The next letter to her mother throws a curious light on the personal cleanliness of the day, and the want of baths in a ducal house—
“November 6, 1741.
“Madam,
“I should write to you much oftener, if I was able, but really I am so taken up with the pursuit of health I have little time for other employments. My lip is not entirely reduced, though I have been blistered twice, once blooded, and have five times taken physick, have lived upon chicken and white meats, and drank nothing but water; however, I am now vastly better than I was, and have hardly any pimples in my face, and no complaint in my eyes or nose, only this abominable lip is still rather bigger than it used to be. I intend to keep the blister going till it is well, for Mr. Clarke has put me in a way of doing it, so that I do not suffer much. I have suffered great disappointment about the warm bath, which I am advised to try, for the bathing tubs are so out of order we have not yet been able to make them hold water, but I hope next week they will serve the purpose.” ...
At the end of the letter is this: “Mary brings me word my bathing tub[173] is ready for use; so to-morrow I shall go in. Pray look for my bathing dress, till then I must go in in chemise and jupon!” Evidently from this it was not considered proper to go into a bath, even in a bedroom, au naturel!
[173] Before tin baths came into use, I remember my father bathing in a wooden tub, which resembled a wheelbarrow without legs or wheels, but with two handles at each end. It took two maids to empty it.
Another light on domestic service of the day is given in the next letter to Sarah. For some reason Elizabeth had a new lady’s-maid, and it appears from this and other letters that a superior class of persons officiated in that capacity. Many a clergyman’s daughter was glad to be lady’s-maid or housekeeper in those days—
“I like my maid extreamly; she is very humble, sensible, quick and diligent, and though her Father and Mother are above the common rate, she has never presumed to hint she was a person of fashion, which the French generally brag of. Mrs. Hog[174] (ye ladies’ French woman), tells me Mr. Dufour was a scarlet Dyer, worth once five or six thousand pounds, and Mrs. Dufour had about £1600 for her fortune, but by the knavery of a partner in their trade, they were reduced. I think Mary works pretty quick, and washes well, and is very handy, and she talks much better French than Dulac.
“I am reading Dr. Swift’s and Mr. Pope’s letters. I like them much, and find great marks of friendship, goodness and affection between these people whom the world is apt to think too wise to be honest, and too witty to be affectionate, but vice is the child of folly, rather than of wisdom; and for insensibility of heart, like that of the head, it belongeth unto fools. Lord Bolingbroke’s letters shine much in the collection. We are reading Dr. Middleton’s new edition[175] of his letter from Rome, but have not yet come to the postscript to Warburton;[176] the answer to the Roman Catholic is full, and I doubt not the Protestant will be as happily silenced. Truth will maintain its ground against all opposition.
“We expect Mr.[177] and Mrs. West, and then we shall have the house full. We are in hopes of Dr. Young; he is now at Welling sowing spiritual things in his parish, I hope to the increase of grace.
“The sun will not shine for our microscope,[178] which is a great vexation to the curious. Last night by the candle I saw a fringe upon a leaf, that would have done excellently well for your apron, and I dare say you are so excellently skilled in the imitation of Nature that you could work just like it if you had the materials.”
[174] French maid to the duchess’s little girls.
[175] “Letters on the Use and Study of History.”
[176] William Warburton, D.D., Bishop of Gloucester, friend of Pope; able controversial writer; born 1698, died 1779.
[177] Gilbert T. West, LL.D., born 1706, died 1756; poet and writer; translated “Pindar.”
[178] Mr. Achard’s microscope.
In the next letter to Sarah she says—
“The Muses, fair ladies and Mr. Lyttelton,[179] a fine gentleman, will entertain you in my absence d’esprit: the verses were wrote at Lord Westmorland’s. I think the verses are pretty; either I am very partial to the writer, or Mr. Lyttelton has always something of an elegance and agreeableness in all his verses, let the subject be ever so trifling.... Does the world want odd people, or do we want strange cousins that the Sternes must increase and multiply? No folly ever becomes extinct, fools do so establish posterity!”
[179] George, afterwards Lord Lyttelton.
As the Sternes’ eldest child, the first Lydia, was not born till 1745, there must have been a disappointment; but though undated, this letter is of 1741, as allusion is made to Matthew Robinson’s inoculation, which had just taken place.
“We are reading ‘Cibber’s Life.’[180] Was there ever so exquisite a coxcomb!”
[180] Cibber’s “Apology for his Life,” published this year; he did not die till 1757, but published his “Apology” in 1740.
November 11, a letter contains—
“Last night being the birthday of the noble Admiral Vernon, we drank his health at noon, and celebrated the same with a ball at night. The ‘Gun Fleet’ was danced in honour of him, and all celebrated with extream joy, and a splendid distribution of Crowns to the fiddler, who was not the son of Orpheus, but however he made such a difference between tit-for-tat and a minouet, that one might understand which he meant. Mademoiselle Dufour[181] had the honour of standing up instead of a flower-pot or an elbow-chair; she danced like the daughter of Herodias.”
To Mrs. Donnellan, who had been ill, but was recovering, this description of Dr. Young[182] is addressed—
“We have lost our divines, whose company we regret; there is great pleasure in conversing with people of such a turn as Dr. Young and Dr. Clarke;[183] for the first there is nothing of speculation, either in the Terra Firma of Reason, or the Visionary province of fancy, into which he does not lead the imagination. In his conversation he examines everything, determines hardly anything, but leaves one’s judgment at liberty. The other goes far into a subject, and seldom leaves the conclusion of an argument unfinished; he seems to me to have a very accurate judgment, and a very attentive observation of everything that comes within his view, and thus with the assistance of a happy memory, he has laid up a great stock of knowledge and experience.”
Mrs. Donnellan mentions on November 15 a mechanical chair she is to have for exercise—
“An artist is to bring me home a machine[184] for galloping and trotting this day; if I could get him to make me one that could move me from one place to another, with how much pleasure could I mount my chariot to make you a visit.... London is as full now as it used to be in January. Plays are much frequented, both to see Barbarini dance, and a new actress from Ireland, her name is Woffington,[185] ... she excels in men’s parts, and is to act ‘Sir Harry Wildair’ next Monday, by the King’s commands, and all the world goes. We poor Irish run the gauntlet about her; we hear in many companys, ‘She has a great deal of Irish assurance.’ I desired it should be called Stage assurance.
“Handel[186] next week has a new opera, which those who have heard the rehearsal say is very pretty. Tell Pen the ‘Lion Song’ is in it....
“I hear the Duke of Portland is to have a Blue Garter, which I am extremely glad of, as I think ’tis fit and proper.”
[184] Called a “Merlin Chair,” from the inventor, for mechanical exercise.
[185] Margaret Woffington, born 1718, died 1760; celebrated actress and friend of Garrick.
[186] Does she mean “The Messiah,” which he produced this year, but which at first was not appreciated?
To this letter Elizabeth replies—
“The date of your letter from London is the strongest temptation to me to wish myself there, that you could lay before me: as for Plays and the Beau monde, I hardly wear vanity enough in the country, to wishing myself once more in—
“I know your town is the Kingdom of Cards, and the Reign of Mattadores I am disaffected to; here I enjoy all the pleasures of friendship, and the satisfaction of tranquillity....
“I hope you will find great benefit by your machine; if you will appoint a time for your imagination to take a flight, I will mount the Marquis of Lichfield’s Hobby Horse, and give you a meeting. Imagination gives Pegasus wings, and he often flies into the undiscovered country of fancy.”
Mrs. Donnellan writes again on December 1 to say she and her sister, Mrs. Clayton, had been to two plays in one week—
“One of our plays was to see Mrs. Woffington perform the part of ‘Sir Harry Wild-air,’[187] and indeed I never saw anything done with more life and spirit; but at the same time she looked too young, too handsome, and her voice seemed more proper for Opera than the play; so that we see when things are out of nature, though they may have many beauties, in the whole they will not please, and a beard and a deep voice are as proper to make a man agreeable, as a soft voice and smooth face to a woman.”
[187] From the play of The Constant Couple.
The next letter of interest is of December 12, to Mrs. Robinson, from Elizabeth—
“Madam,
“It is long since I have had the pleasure of writing to you, for though I have much inclination to do so, I have little leisure. I am now coming on you with a great deal of news from the city of our Great King. The Parliament is all in a flame, the Court have had but a majority of seven. There is a great struggle between Giles, Earle, and Dr. Lee, which shall be for the Committees. The city is in great alarm that they are going to lose six hundred thousand pounds out of Leghorn, which it is expected will be taken, and the Port lost to our merchants.
“Now as to private affairs, it is reported the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough[188] is dead, that she departed last night, and no one weeps for her to-day. Extravagance will lavish away those treasures her avarice accumulated.... I am not sure the report is true, though private letters and public papers do affirm that the spirit of pride, avarice, and ambition have stolen from her as quietly as the common breath of the nostrils....”
[188] Sarah Jennings, born 1660, died 1744.
The duchess did not die then, as will be seen by the next letter to the same person. This was the illness when the doctor told her, unless she was blistered, she would die, when she cried, “I won’t be blistered, and I won’t die!” And she did not, for she lived till 1744!
“December 19, 1741.
“Madam,
“I believe the wars abroad, and tumults at home, will make the publick papers worth reading. Dr. Lee has carried his Election by four, the Court is concerned at it. The King[189] suspended even his dinner (an action of as great importance as any done in the reigns of some Monarchs) till this affair between Dr. Lee and Earle was determined. The Westminster Election will now be carried against the Court. It is thought Lord Percival will undoubtedly be chosen at the new Election. The friends of Sir R——[190] lament that now he will not be able to carry any of the petitions, but where the right is on his side, and which, too, is looked upon by them as an unfortunate thing for the Kingdom in general.
“The Duchess of Marlborough is not dead yet, but in great danger; she has St. Anthony’s fire to a terrible degree, and will have no advice but such as her apothecary gives her. To Mr. Spencer[191] she has bequeathed in her will £30,000 a year, in addition to what he has already. The Duchess of Manchester[192] she has struck out. How the rest of her enormous fortune is disposed of people do not know.
“We lost two of our Divines to-day, Dr. Young and the Dean of Exeter, men of very different genius, but both agreeable companions.”
[189] George II.
[190] Sir Robert Walpole, Prime Minister, born 1676, died 1745.
[191] Her grandson.
[192] Her eldest granddaughter.
The next is to Sarah, December 22, and in it is—
“I don’t know whether you have heard of the Revolutions in Russia, that the Princess Eliza[193] is made Czarina; the Czar, his Mother, Munich and Lacy imprisoned, and all by the power of France, and the machinations of General Keith.[194] This is bad news for poor England. The members of Parliament of the country party are gone to their firesides to roast chestnuts, while the Court get the uppermost again. The Prince’s affair is to come before the House very soon: it is a shame that he[195] has no settlement.”
[193] Elizabeth Petrowna, born 1709, died 1761; daughter of Peter the Great.
[194] Field-Marshal Keith, born 1696, died 1758.
[195] Frederick, Prince of Wales, born 1707, died 1751.
Two letters of December 26 and December 31 to Sarah wind up the year. In the first she mentions that the move from Bullstrode to London was to take place on January 3, and she was to return to Mount Morris on the 5th. In passing through London she should visit Mrs. Cotes,[196] who was a bosom friend of hers and Sarah. A little paragraph occurs about Mrs. Botham, Mrs. Sterne’s sister—
“Mrs. Botham is at Elford with Lady Andover, which I am glad of, for poor Lydia has a taste for conversation above the hum-drum mediocrity of her husband’s understanding. He has a very good pulpit drone, and gives the whole parish an excellent nap every Sunday with his sermonical lullaby.”
[196] Wife of Dr. Cotes, of Wimbledon, sister of Henry, Viscount Irvine, born 1691, died 1761.
“December 31, 1741.
“My dear Sister,
“This day did not begin with the auspicious appearance of a letter from you; I am glad it is not the first day of the New Year, for I might have been superstitious upon it. I hope you kept your letter back a day on purpose to welcome in the coming year. I wish it may be our lot ever to find the next bring us what the last wanted. But alas! time steals the most precious pleasures from us. Our life is like a show that has passed by, leaves but a track that makes remembrance and reflection rugged, a mark is worn for ever where the gay train of pleasures pass’d swiftly by, and observation is much longer displeased than ever it was delighted. I am loth to part with an old year as with an old acquaintance, not that I have to it the gratitude one has to a Benefactor, or the affection one bears to a friend. I am, I fear, neither better nor richer than it found me, but we lived easy together, and not knowing whether I shall have the acquaintance of many years, I could be willing to stop this. I have one obligation to it that I rate highly, that it has ensured you from the danger of smallpox. This year too has allowed us many happy months together. I hope all that are behind for me design the same, else they will come unwelcome, and depart unregretted.... This day sennight I shall be with you and the good family at Horton, telling a ‘Winter’s tale’ by the fireside! Oh that we were all to meet then, that once graced that fireside, even the goodly nine,[197] and thanking my Father and Mother for all the life they imparted to us, and have since supported! I hope the flock is safe and our meeting reserved for some of the golden days of fate.”
Thomas Robinson, the second brother, had this year brought out his celebrated legal book, entitled “Common Law of Kent, or the Customs of Gavel Kind, with an appendix concerning Borough English,” to this day a well-referred-to book. In 1822 a third edition was published, and another in 1858, revised by J. D. Norwood. Thomas was of Lincoln’s Inn, was admitted April 14, 1730. The “National Biography” states he was never called to the Bar, which must be a mistake, as there is frequent mention of his pleading cases at Canterbury and elsewhere in the manuscripts.