LETTERX.TO MISS L——.
August, 31, 1770.
DO not you condemn me for the very thing that you are guilty of yourself;—but before I recriminate—let me be grateful, and acknowledge that heartfelt satisfaction which I ever feel from the praise of the good.—Sterne says—‘every worthy mind loves praise’—and declares that he loves it too—but then it must be sincere. Now I protestthat you have something very like flattery;—no matter—I honestly own, it pleases me—Vanity is a shoot from self-love—and self-love Pope declares to be the spring of motion in the human breast.—Friendship founded upon right judgement takes the good and bad with the indulgence of blind love;—nor is it wrong—for as weakness and error is the lot of humanity—real friendship must oft kindly overlook the undesigning frailties of undisguised nature.—My dear Madam, I beg ten thousand pardons for the dull sermon I have been preaching:—You may well yawn.—So the noble! the humane! the patron! the friend! the good Duke leaves Tunbridge on Monday—true nobility will leave the place with him—and kindness and humanity will accompany Miss L—— whenever she thinks fit to leave it.—Mrs. Sancho is pretty well, pretty round, and pretty tame! she bids me say, Thank you in the kindest manner I possibly can—and observe, I say, Thank you kindly.—I will not pretend to enumerate the many things you deserve our thanks for:—you are upon the whole an estimable young woman—your heart is the best part of you—may it meet with its likenessin the man of your choice!—and I will pronounce you a happy couple.—I hope to hear in your next—(that is, if—) that you are about thinking of coming to town—no news stiring but politics—which I deem very unfit for ladies.—I shall conclude with John Moody’s prayer—“The goodness of goodness bless and preserve you!”—I am dear Miss L——’s most sincere servant and friend,
IGN. SANCHO.