Monday.

Yesterday was as dark as midnight.  Oh! that it may be the darkest day in all respects that we shall see!  But these are themes too voluminous and dismal for a letter, and which your zeal tells me you feel too intensely for me to increase, when you are doing all in your power to counteract them.  One of my grievances is, that the sanguinary inhumanity Of the times has almost poisoned one’s compassion, and makes one abhor so many thousands of our own species, and rejoice when they suffer for their crimes.  I could feel no pity on reading the account of the death of Condorcet (if true, though I doubt it).  He was one of the greatest monsters exhibited by history; and is said to have poisoned himself from famine and fear of the guillotine; and would be a new instance of what I suggested to you for a tract, to show, that though we must not assume a pretension to judging of divine judgments, yet we may believe that the economy of Providence has so disposed causes and consequences, that such villains as Danton, Robespierre, the Duke of Orleans, etc. etc. etc. do but dig pits for themselves.  I will check myself, or I shall wander into the sad events of the last five years, down to the rage of party that has sacrificed Holland!  What a fund for reflection and prophetic apprehension!  May we have as much wisdom and courage to stem our malevolent enemies, as it is plain, to our lasting honour, we have had charity to the French emigrants, and have bounty for the poor who are suffering in this dreadful season!

Adieu! thou excellent woman! thou reverse of that hyena in petticoats, Mrs. Wolstoncroft, who to this day discharges her ink and gall on Marie Antoinette, whose unparalleled sufferings have not Yet stanched that Alecto’s blazing ferocity.  Adieu! adieu!  Yours from my heart.

P. S. I have subscribed five guineas at Mr. White’s to your plan.

(894) To the fund for promoting the printing and dispersion of the works sold at the Cheap Repository.

Letter 420 To Miss Hannah More.  Berkeley Square, Feb. 13, 1795. (page 566)

I received your letter and packet of lays and virelays, and heartily wish they may fall in bad ground, and produce a hundred thousand fold, as I doubt is necessary.  How I admire the activity of your zeal and perseverance!  Should a new church ever be built, I hope in a side chapel there will be an altar dedicated to St. Hannah, Virgin and Martyr; and that Your pen, worn to the bone, will be enclosed in a golden reliquaire, and preserved on the shrine.

These few words I have been forced to dictate, having had the gout ill my right hand above this fortnight; but I trust it is going off The Duchess was much pleased with your writing to her, and ordered me to thank you.  Your friend Lady Waldegrave is in town, and looks very well.  Adieu, best of women!  Yours most cordially.(895)