Now! Then! 2025! - Yorkshire On This Day

Excerpt

The companions of my former libertinism would scarcely believe their eyes, my dear doctor, were you to show them this epistle. They would laugh at me as a dreaming enthusiast, or pity me as a timorous wretch who was shocked at the appearance of futurity. But whoever laughs at me for being right, or pities me for being sensible of my errors, is more entitled to my compassion than my resentment. A future state may very well strike terror into any man who has not acted well in this life; and he must have an uncommon share of courage indeed who does not shrink at the presence of his God. You see, my dear doctor, the apprehension of death will soon bring the most profligate to a proper use of their understanding. To what a situation am I now reduced? Is this odious little hut a suitable lodging for a prince? or is this anxiety of my mind becoming the characteristic of a Christian? From my rank and fortune I might have expected affluence to wait on my life, from my religion and understanding, peace to smile upon my end; instead of which I am afflicted with poverty, and haunted with remorse, despised by my country, and I fear forsaken by my God! My dear doctor, I am forsaken by all my acquaintance, utterly neglected by the friends of my bosom and the dependants of my bounty. But no matter; I am not now fit to converse with the first, and have no ability to serve the latter. Let me not be cast off wholly, however, by the good. Favour me with a visit, dear doctor, as soon as possible. Writing to you gives me some ease, especially upon a subject I could talk of for ever. I am of opinion this is the last visit I shall ever solicit from you. My distemper is powerful. Come and pray for the departing spirit of the unhappy BUCKINGHAM.

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To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

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Comment

Comment

Exaggeration? But this is surely about Buckingham’s nostalgia for Heaven-on-Thames.

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Original

I always looked upon you as a man of true virtue, and know you to be a person of sound understanding; for however I may have acted in opposition to the principles of religion, or the dictates of reason, I can honestly assure you I had always the highest veneration for both. The world and I may now shake hands, for I dare affirm that we are heartily weary of one another. O doctor, what a prodigal have I been of that most valuable of all possessions, time. I have squandered it away with a profusion unparalleled; and now that the enjoyment of a few days would be worth a hecatomb of worlds, I cannot flatter myself with a prospect of half a dozen hours.

How despicable, my dear friend, is that man who never prays to his God but in the time of distress. In what manner can he supplicate that omnipotent being, in his affliction, with reverence, whom in the tide of his prosperity he never remembered with dread? Don’t brand me with infidelity, my dear doctor, when I tell you I am almost ashamed to offer up my petitions at the throne of grace, or of imploring that divine mercy in the next world, which I have so scandalously abused in this! Shall ingratitude to man be looked upon as the blackest of crimes, and not ingratitude to God? Shall an insult offered to the king be looked upon in the most offensive light, and yet no notice be taken when the king of kings is treated with indignity and disrespect!

The companions of my former libertinism would scarcely believe their eyes, my dear doctor, were you to show them this epistle. They would laugh at me as a dreaming enthusiast, or pity me as a timorous wretch who was shocked at the appearance of futurity. But whoever laughs at me for being right, or pities me for being sensible of my errors, is more entitled to my compassion than my resentment. A future state may very well strike terror into any man who has not acted well in this life; and he must have an uncommon share of courage indeed who does not shrink at the presence of his God.

You see, my dear doctor, the apprehension of death will soon bring the most profligate to a proper use of their understanding. To what a situation am I now reduced? Is this odious little hut a suitable lodging for a prince? or is this anxiety of my mind becoming the characteristic of a Christian? From my rank and fortune I might have expected affluence to wait on my life, from my religion and understanding, peace to smile upon my end; instead of which I am afflicted with poverty, and haunted with remorse, despised by my country, and I fear forsaken by my God! There is nothing so dangerous, my dear doctor, as extraordinary abilities. I cannot be accused of vanity now, by being sensible I was once possessed of uncommon qualifications, more especially as I sincerely regret that I was ever blest with any at all. My rank in life made these accomplishments still more conspicuous; and, fascinated with the general applause which they procured, I never considered about the proper means by which they should be displayed; hence, to purchase a smile from a blockhead I despised, have I frequently treated the virtuous with disrespect, and sported with the holy name of heaven to obtain a laugh from a parcel of fools, who were entitled to nothing but my contempt.

Your men of wit, my dear doctor, generally look upon themselves as discharged from the duties of religion, and confine the doctrines of the gospel to people of meaner understandings; it is a sort of derogation, in their opinion, to comply with the rules of Christianity, and reckon that man possessed of a narrow genius who studies to be good. What a pity that the holy writings are not made the criterion of true judgment! or that any one should pass for a fine gentleman in this world, but he that seems solicitous about his happiness in the next.

My dear doctor, I am forsaken by all my acquaintance, utterly neglected by the friends of my bosom and the dependants of my bounty. But no matter; I am not now fit to converse with the first, and have no ability to serve the latter. Let me not be cast off wholly, however, by the good. Favour me with a visit, dear doctor, as soon as possible. Writing to you gives me some ease, especially upon a subject I could talk of for ever. I am of opinion this is the last visit I shall ever solicit from you. My distemper is powerful. Come and pray for the departing spirit of the unhappy

BUCKINGHAM.

823 words.

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• Augustus Leopold Egg (1) ·
• Charles II (1630-85) (26), King of Scotland 1649-51, King of England, Scotland and Ireland from the 1660 Restoration until his death ·
• Church of England (93) ·
• Death (11) ·
• George Villiers, 2nd Duke of Buckingham (2) ·
• James II (20) ·
• Pope, Alexander (1688-1744) (4), poet, translator, and satirist of the Augustan period, finest poet of the early 18th century ·
• Stuart Restoration (6) ·

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