To change
habitations is to die to them; and in my time I have died seven deaths.
But I don't know whether every such change does not bring with it a
rejuvenescence. 'T is an enterprise, and shoves back the sense of
death's approximating, which, though not terrible to me, is at all times
particularly distasteful. My house-deaths have generally been
periodical, recurring after seven years; but this last is premature by
half that time. Cut off in the flower of Colebrooke! The Middletonian
stream and all its echoes mourn. Even minnows dwindle. _A parvis
fiunt minimi!_
I fear to invite Mrs. Hood to our new mansion, lest she should envy it,
and hate us. But when we are fairly in, I hope she will come and try it. I
heard she and you were made uncomfortable by some unworthy-to-be-cared-for
attacks, and have tried to set up a feeble counteraction through the
"Table Book" of last Saturday. Has it not reached you, that you are
silent about it? Our new domicile is no manor-house, but new, and
externally not inviting, but furnished within with every convenience,--
capital new locks to every door, capital grates in every room, with
nothing to pay for incoming, and the rent L10 less than the Islington one.
It was built, a few years since, at L1,100 expense, they tell me, and I
perfectly believe it. And I get it for L35, exclusive of moderate taxes.
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