I gave you in my last my bold remarks upon a TRAGEDY-The DistressedMother. I will now give you my shallow notions of a COMEDY—TheTender Husband.
I liked this part of the title; though I was not pleased with the other, explanatory of it;Or—The Accomplished Fools. But when I heard it was written by Sir Richard Steele, and that Mr. Addison had given some hints towards it, if not some characters—"O, dear Sir," said I, "give us your company to this play; for the authors of the Spectator cannot possibly produce a faulty scene."
Mr. B. indeed smiled; for I had not then read the play: and the Earl of F., his countess, Miss Darnford, Mr. B. and myself, agreed to meet with a niece of my lord's in the stage-box, which was taken on purpose.
There seemed to me to be much wit and satire in the play: but, upon my word, I was grievously disappointed as to the morality of it; nor, in some places, is—probabilitypreserved; and there are divers speeches so very free, that I could not have expected to meet with such, from the names I mentioned.
In short the author seems to have forgotten the moral all the way; and being put in mind of it by some kind friend (Mr. Addison, perhaps), was at a loss to draw one from such characters and plots as he had produced; and so put down what came uppermost, for the sake of custom, without much regard to propriety. And truly, I should think, that the play was begun with a design to draw more amiable characters, answerable to the title ofThe Tender Husband; but that the author, being carried away by the luxuriancy of a genius, which he had not the heart to prune, on a general survey of the whole, distrusting the propriety of that title, added the under one: with an OR,The Accomplished Fools, in justice to his piece, and compliment to his audience. Had he called itThe Accomplished Knaves, I would not have been angry at him, because there would have been more propriety in the title.
I wish I could, for the sake of the authors, have praised every scene of this play: I hoped to have reason for it. Judge then, my dear lady, my mortification, not to be able to say I liked above one, thePainter's scene, which too was out of time, being on the wedding-day; and am forced to disapprove of every character in it, and the views of every one. I am, dear Madam,your most obliged sister and servant,
My Dear Lady,
Although I cannot tell how you received my observations on the tragedy ofThe Distressed Mother, and the comedy ofThe Tender Husband, yet will I proceed to give your ladyship my opinion of the opera I was at last night.
But what can I say, after mentioning what you so well know, the fine scenes, the genteel and splendid company, the charming voices, and delightful music?
If, Madam, one were all ear, and lost to every sense but that of harmony, surely the Italian opera would be a transporting thing!—But when one finds good sense, and instruction, and propriety, sacrificed to the charms of sound, what an unedifying, what a mere temporary delight does it afford! For what does one carry home, but the remembrance of having been pleased so many hours by the mere vibration of air, which, being but sound, you cannot bring away with you; and must therefore enter the time passed in such a diversion, into the account of those blank hours, from which one has not reaped so much as one improving lesson?
Mr. B. observes, that when once sound is preferred to sense, we shall depart from all our own worthiness, and, at best, be but the apes, yea, the dupes, of those whom we may strive to imitate, but never can reach, much less excel.
Mr. B. says, sometimes, that this taste is almost the only good fruit our young nobility gather, and bring home from their foreign tours; and that he found the English nation much ridiculed on this score, by those very people who are benefited by their depravity. And if this be the best, what must the other qualifications be, which they bring home?—Yet every one does not return with so little improvement, it is to be hoped.
But what can I say of an Italian opera?—For who can describe sound! Or what words shall be found to embody air? And when we return, and are asked our opinion of what we have seen or heard, we are only able to answer, as I hinted above the scenery is fine, the company splendid and genteel, the music charming for the time, the action not extraordinary, the language unintelligible, and, for all these reasons—the instruction none at all.
This is all the thing itself gives me room to say of the Italian opera; very probably, for want of a polite taste, and a knowledge of the language.
In my next, I believe, I shall give you, Madam, my opinion of a diversion, which, I doubt, I shall like still less, and that is a masquerade; for I fear I shall not be excused going to one, although I have no manner of liking to it, especially in my present way. I am. Madam,your ladyship's most obliged and faithfulP.B.
I must add another half sheet to this letter on the subject matter of it, the opera; and am sure you will not be displeased with the addition.
Mr. B. coming up just as I had concluded my letter, asked me what was my subject? I told him I was giving your ladyship my notions of the Italian opera. "Let me see what they are, my dear; for this is a subject that very few of those who admire these performances, and fewer still of those who decry them, know any thing of."
He read the above, and was pleased to commend it. "Operas," said he, "are very sad things in England, to what they are in Italy; and the translations given of them abominable: and indeed, our language will not do them justice.
"Every nation, as you say, has its excellencies; and ours should not quit the manly nervous sense, which is the distinction of the English drama. One play of our celebrated Shakespeare will give infinitely more pleasure to a sensible mind than a dozen English-Italian operas. But, my dear, in Italy, they are quite another thing: and the sense is not, as here, sacrificed so much to the sound, but that they are both very compatible."
"Be pleased, Sir, to give me your observations on this head in writing, and then I shall have something to send worthy of Lady Davers's acceptance."
"I will, my dear;" and he took a pen, and wrote the inclosed; which I beg your ladyship to return me; because I will keep it for my instruction, if I should be led to talk of this subject in company. "Let my sister know," said he, "that I have given myself no time to re-peruse what I have written. She will do well, therefore, to correct it, and return it to you."
"In Italy, judges of operas are so far from thinking the drama or poetical part of their operas nonsense, as the unskilled in Italian rashly conclude in England, that if the Libretto, as they call it, is not approved, the opera, notwithstanding the excellence of the music, will be condemned. For the Italians justly determine, that the very music of an opera cannot be complete and pleasing, if the drama be incongruous, as I may call it, in its composition, because, in order to please, it must have the necessary contrast of the grave and the light, that is, the diverting equally blended through the whole. If there be too much of the first, let the music be composed ever so masterly in that style, it will become heavy and tiresome; if the latter prevail, it will surfeit with its levity: wherefore it is the poet's business to adapt the words for this agreeable mixture: for the music is but secondary, and subservient to the words; and if there be an artful contrast in the drama, there will be the same in the music, supposing the composer to be a skilful master.
"Now, since in England, the practice has been to mutilate, curtail, and patch up a drama in Italian, in order to introduce favourite airs, selected from different authors, the contrast has always been broken thereby, without every one's knowing the reason: and since ignorant mercenary prompters, though Italians, have been employed in hotch-potch, and in translating our dramas from Italian into English, how could such operas appear any other than incongruous nonsense?"
Permit me, dear Madam, to repeat my assurances, that I am, and must ever be,your obliged sister and servant,
Well, now, my dear lady, I will give you my poor opinion of a masquerade, to which Mr. B. persuaded me to accompany Miss Darnford; for, as I hinted in my former, I had a great indifference, or rather dislike, to go, and Miss therefore wanted so powerful a second, to get me with her; because I was afraid the freedoms which I had heard were used there, would not be very agreeable to my apprehensive temper, atthistime especially.
But finding Mr. B. chose to have me go, if, as he was pleased to say, I had no objection, "I said, Iwillhave none, Icanhave none, when you tell me it is your choice; and so send for the habits you like, and that you would have me appear in, and I will cheerfully attend you."
The habit Mr. B. pitched upon was that of a Spanish Don, and it well befitted the majesty of his person and air; and Miss Darnford chose that of a young Widow; and Mr. B. recommended that of a Quaker for me. We all admired one another in our dresses; and Mr. B. promising to have me always in his eye, we went thither.
But I never desire to be present at another. Mr. B. was singled out by a bold Nun, who talked Italian to him with such free airs, that I did not much like it, though I knew not what she said; for I thought the dear gentleman no more kept to his Spanish gravity, than she to the requisites of the habit she wore: when I had imagined that all that was tolerable in a masquerade, was the acting up to the character each person assumed: and this gave me no objection to the Quaker's dress; for I thought I was prim enough for that naturally.
I said softly, "Dear Miss Darnford" (for Mr. B. and the Nun were out of sight in a moment), "what is become of that Nun?"—"Rather," whispered she, "what is become of the Spaniard?"
A Cardinal attacked me instantly in French; but I answered in English, not knowing what he said, "Quakers are not fit company for Red-hats."
"They are," said he, in the same language; "for a Quaker and a Jesuit is the same thing."
Miss Darnford was addressed by the name of the Sprightly Widow: another asked, how long she intended to wear those weeds? And a footman, in a rich livery, answered for her eyes, through her mask, that it would not be a month.
But I was startled when a Presbyterian Parson came up, and bid me look after my Musidorus—So that I doubted not by this, it must be one who knew my name to be Pamela; and I soon thought of one of my lawyers, whose characters I gave before.
Indeed, he needed not to bid me; for I was sorry, on more accounts than that of my timorousness, to have lost sight of him. "Out upon these nasty masquerades!" thought I; "I can't abide them already!"
An egregious beauish appearance came up to Miss, and said, "You hang out a very prettysign, Widow."
"Not," replied she, "to invite such fops as you to my shop."
"Any customer would be welcome," returned he, "in my opinion. I whisper this as a secret."
"And I whisper another," said she, but not whisperingly, "that no place warrants ill manners."
"Are you angry, Widow?"
She affected a laugh: "No, indeed, it i'n't worth while."
He turned to me—and I was afraid of some such hit as he gave me. "I hope, friend, thou art prepared with a father for the light within thee?"
"Is this wit?" said I, turning to Miss Darnford: "I have enough of this diversion, where nothing but coarse jests appearbarefac'd."
At last Mr. B. accosted us, as if he had not known us. "So lovely a widow, and so sweet a friend! no wonder you do not separate: for I see not in this various assembly a third person of your sex fit to join with you."
"Notone, Sir!" said I. "Will not a penitent Nun make a good third with a mournful Widow, and a prim Quaker?"
"Not for more than ten minutes at most."
Instantly the Nun, a fine person of a lady, with a noble air, though I did not like her, joined us, and spoke in Italian something very free, as it seemed by her manner, and Mr. B.'s smiling answer; but neither Miss Darnford nor I understood that language, and Mr. B. would not explain it to us.
But she gave him a signal to follow her, seeming to be much taken with his person and air; for though there were three other Spanish habits there, he was calledThe stately Spaniardby one,The handsome Spaniardby another, in our hearing, as he passed with us to the dessert, where we drank each of us a glass of Champaign, and eat a few sweetmeats, with a crowd about us; but we appeared not to know one another: while several odd appearances, as one Indian Prince, one Chinese Mandarin, several Domino's, of both sexes, a Dutch Skipper, a Jewish Rabbi, a Greek Monk, a Harlequin, a Turkish Bashaw, and Capuchin Friar, glided by us, as we returned into company, signifying that we were strangers to them by squeaking out—"I know you!"—Which is half the wit of the place.
Two ladies, one in a very fantastic party-coloured habit, with a plume of feathers, the other in a rustic one, with a garland of flowers round her head, were much taken notice of for their freedom, and having something to say to every body. They were as seldom separated as Miss Darnford and I, and were followed by a crowd wherever they went.
The party-coloured one came up to me: "Friend," said she, "there is something in thy person that attracts every one's notice: but if a sack had not been a profane thing, it would have become thee almost as well."—"I thank thee, friend," said I, "for thy counsel; but if thou hadst been pleased to look at home, thou wouldst not have taken so much pains to join such advice, and such an appearance, together, as thou makest!"
This made every one that heard it laugh.—One said, the butterfly hath met with her match.
She returned, with an affected laugh, "Smartly said!—But art thou come hither, friend, to make thy light shine before men or women?"
"Verily, friend, neither," replied I: "but out of mere curiosity, to look into themindsof both sexes; which I read in theirdresses."
"A general satire on the assemblée, by the mass!" said a fat Monk.
The Nun whisked to us: "We're all concerned in my friend's remark."—
"And no disgrace to a fair Nun," returned I, "if her behaviour answer her dress—Nor to a reverend Friar," turning to the Monk, "if his mind be not a discredit to his appearance—Nor yet to a Country-girl," turning to the party-coloured lady's companion, "if she has not weeds in her heart to disgrace the flowers on her head."
An odd figure, representing aMerry Andrew, took my hand, and said, I had the most piquant wit he had met with that night: "And, friend," said he, "let us be better acquainted!"
"Forbear," said I, withdrawing my hand; "not a companion for aJack-pudding, neither!"
A Roman Senator just then accosted Miss Darnford; and Mr. B. seeing me so much engaged, "'Twere hard," said he, "if our nation, in spite of Cervantes, produced not one cavalier to protect a fair lady thus surrounded."
"Though surrounded, not distressed, my good knight-errant," said the Nun: "the fair Quaker will be too hard for half-a-dozen antagonists, and wants not your protection:—but your poor Nun bespeaks it," whispered she, "who has not a word to say for herself." Mr. B. answered her in Italian (I wish I understood Italian!)—and she had recourse to her beads.
You can't imagine, Madam, how this Nun haunted him!—I don't like these masquerades at all. Many ladies, on these occasions, are so very free, that the censorious will be apt to blame the whole sex fortheirconduct, and to say, their hearts are as faulty as those of the most culpable men, since they scruple not to shew as much, when they think they cannot be known by their faces. But it is my humble opinion, that could a standard be fixed, by which one could determine readily whatis, and what isnotwit, decency would not be so often wounded by attempts to be witty, as it is. For here every one, who can say things that shock a modester person, not meeting with due rebuke, but perhaps a smile, (without considering whether it be of contempt or approbation) mistakes courage for wit; and every thing sacred or civil becomes the subject of his frothy jest.
But what a moralizer am I! will your ladyship say: indeed I can't help it:—and especially on such a subject as amasquerade, which I dislike more than any thing I ever saw. I could say a great deal more on this occasion; but, upon my word, I am quite out of humour with it: for I liked my English Mr. B. better than my Spaniard: and the Nun I approved not by any means; though there were some who observed, that she was one of the gracefullest figures in the place. And, indeed, in spite of my own heart, I could not help thinking so too.
Your ladyship knows so well whatmasqueradesare, that I may well be excused saying any thing further on a subject I am so little pleased with: for you only desire my notions of those diversions, because I am a novice in them; and this, I doubt not, will doubly serve to answer that purpose.
I shall only therefore add, that after an hundred other impertinences spoken to Miss Darnford and me, and retorted with spirit by her, and as well as I could by myself, quite sick of the place, I feigned to be more indisposed than I was, and so got my beloved Spaniard to go off with us, and reached home by three in the morning. And so much formasquerades. I hope I shall never have occasion to mention them again to your ladyship. I am, my dearest Madam,your ever obliged sister and servant,
My mind is so wholly engrossed by thoughts of a very different nature from those which the diversions of the town and theatres inspire, that I beg to be excused, if, for the present, I say nothing further of those lighter matters. But as you do not disapprove of my remarks, I intend, if God spares my life, to make a little book, which I will present to your ladyship, of my poor observations on all the dramatic entertainments I have seen, and shall see, this winter: and for this purpose I have made brief notes in the margin of the printed plays I have bought, as I saw them, with a pencil; by referring to which, as helps to my memory, I shall be able to state what my thoughts were at the time of seeing them pretty nearly with the same advantage, as if I had written them at my return from each.
I have obtained Sir Simon, and Lady Darnford's permission for Miss to stay with me till it shall be seen how it will please God to deal with me, and I owe this favour partly to a kind letter written in my behalf to Sir Simon, by Mr. B., and partly to the young lady's earnest request to her papa, to oblige me; Sir Simon having made some difficulty to comply, as Mr. Murray and his bride have left them, saying, he could not live long, if he had not the company of his beloved daughter.
But what shall I say, when I find my frailty so much increased, that I cannot, with the same intenseness of devotion I used to be blest with, apply myself to the throne of Grace, nor, of consequence, find my invocations answered by that delight and inward satisfaction, with which I used when the present near prospect was more remote?
I hope I shall not be deserted in the hour of trial, and that this my weakness of mind will not be punished with a spiritual dereliction, for suffering myself to be too much attached to those worldly delights and pleasures, which no mortal ever enjoyed in a more exalted degree than myself. And I beseech you, my dearest lady, let me be always remembered in your prayers—onlyfor a resignation to the Divine will; acheerfulresignation! I presume not to prescribe to his gracious Providence; for if one has butthat, one has every thing that one need to have.
Forgive me, my dearest lady, for being so deeply serious. I have just been contending with a severe pang, that is now gone off; what effect its return may have, God only knows. And if this is the last line I shall ever write, it will be the more satisfactory to me, as (with my humble respects to my good Lord Davers, and my dear countess, and praying for the continuance of all your healths and happiness, both here and hereafter), I am permitted to subscribe myselfyour ladyship's obliged sister and humble servant,
From Lady Davers to Mr. B.
Although I believe it needless to put a man of your generous spirit in mind of doing a worthy action; yet, as I do not know whether you have thought of what I am going to hint to you, I cannot forbear a line or two with regard to the good old couple in Kent.
I am sure, if, for our sins, God Almighty should take from us my incomparable sister (forgive me, my dear brother, but to intimate whatmaybe, although I hourly pray, as her trying minute approaches, that it will not), you will, for her sake, take care that her honest parents have not the loss of your favour, to deepen the inconsolable one, they will have, in such a case, of the best of daughters.
I say, I am sure you will do as generously by them as ever: and I dare say your sweet Pamela doubts it not: yet, as you know how sensible she is of every favour done them, it is the countess's opinion and mine, and Lady Betty's too, that you giveherthis assurance, in somelegalway: for, as she is naturally apprehensive, and thinks more of her present circumstances, than, for your sake, she chooses to express to you, it will be like a cordial to her dutiful and grateful heart; and I do not know, if it will not contribute, more than anyonething, to make her go through her task with ease and safety.
I know how much your heart is wrapped up in the dear creature: and you are a worthy brother to let it be so! You will excuse me therefore, I am sure, for this my officiousness.
I have no doubt but God will spare her to us, because, although we may not be worthy of such excellence, yet we all now unite so gratefully to thank him, for such a worthy relation, that I hope we shall not be deprived of an example so necessary to us all.
I can have but one fear, and that is, that, young as she is, she seems ripened for glory: she seems to have lived long enough forherself. But foryou, and forus, that God willstillspare her, shall be the hourly prayer of,my dear worthy brother, your ever affectionate sister,
Have you got her mother with you? I hope you have. God give you a son and heir, if it be his blessed will! But, however that be, preserve your Pamela to you! for you never can have suchanotherwife.
From Mrs. B. to Mr. B.
Since I know not how it may please God Almighty to dispose of me on the approaching occasion, I should think myself inexcusable, not to find one or two select hours to dedicate to you, out of the very many, in the writing way, which your goodness has indulged me, because you saw I took delight in it.
But yet, think not, O best beloved of my heart! that I have any boon to beg, any favour to ask, either for myself or for my friends, or so much as thecontinuanceof your favour, to the one or the other. As to them, you have prevented and exceeded all my wishes: as to myself, if it please God to spare me, I know I shall always be rewarded beyond my desert, let my deservings be what they will. I have only therefore to acknowledge with the deepest sense of your goodness to me, and with the most heart-affecting gratitude, that from the happy, the thrice happy hour, that you so generously made me yours, tillthismoment, you have not left one thing, on my own part, to wish for, but the continuance and increase of your felicity, and that I might be still worthier of the unexampled goodness, tenderness, and condescension, wherewith you have always treated me.
No, my dearest, my best beloved master, friend, husband, myfirst, mylast, andonlylove! believe me, I have nothing to wish for but your honour and felicity, temporal and eternal; and I make no doubt, that God, in his infinite goodness and mercy, will perfect his own good work, begun in your dear heart; and, whatever may now happen, give us a happy meeting, never more to part from one another.
Let me then beg of you, my dearest protector, to pardon all my imperfections and defects; and if, ever since I have had the honour to be yours, I have inlooks, or inword, or indeed, given you cause to wish me other than I was, that you will kindly put it to the score of natural infirmity (for inthoughtorintention, I can truly boast, I have never wilfully erred). Your tenderness, and generous politeness to me, always gave me apprehension, that I was not what you wished me to be, because you would not find fault with me so often as I fear I deserved: and this makes me beg of you to do, as I hope God Almighty will, pardon all my involuntary errors and omissions.
But let me say one word for my dear worthy Mrs. Jervis. Her care and fidelity will be very necessary for your affairs, dear Sir, while you remain single, which I hope will not be long. But, whenever you make a second choice, be pleased to allow her such an annuity as may make her independent, and pass away the remainder of her life with ease and comfort. And this I the rather presume to request, as my late honoured lady once intimated the same thing to you. If I were to name what that may be, it would not be with the thought ofheightening, but oflimitingrather, the natural bounty of your heart; and fifty pounds a-year would be a rich provision, in her opinion, and will entail upon you, dear Sir, the blessings of one of the faithfullest and worthiest hearts in the kingdom.
Nor will Christian charity permit me to forget the once wicked, but now penitent Jewkes. I understand by Miss Darnford, that she begs for nothing but to have the pleasure of dying in your service, and by that means to atone for some small slips and mistakes in her accounts, which she had made formerly, and she accuses herself; for she will have it, that Mr. Longman has been better to her than she deserved, in passing one account particularly, to which he had, with too much reason, objected; do, dear Sir, if yourfuturehappy lady has no great dislike to the poor woman, be pleased to grant her request, except her own mind should alter, and she desire her dismission.
And now I have to beg of God to shower down his most precious blessings upon you, my dearest, myfirst, mylast, and myonlylove! and to return to you an hundred fold, the benefits which you have conferred upon me and mine, and upon so many poor souls, as you have blessed through my hands! And that you may in your next choice be happy with a lady, who may have every thing I want; and who may love and honour you, with the same affectionate duty, which has been my delight and my glory to pay you: for in this I am sure, no onecanexceed me!—And after having given you long life, prosperity, and increase of honour, translate you into a blessed eternity, where, through the merits of our common Redeemer, I hope I shall be allowed a place, and be permitted (O let me indulge that pleasing, thatconsolatorythought!) to receive and rejoice in my restored spouse, for ever and ever: are the prayers, thelastprayers, if it so please God! of, my dearest dear Mr. B.,your dutiful and affectionate wife, and faithful servant,
From Miss Darnford to Lady Darnford.
You cannot conceive how you and my dear papa have delighted my good Mrs. B. and obliged her Mr. B. by the permission you have given me to attend her till the important hour shall be over with her; for she is exceedingly apprehensive, and one can hardly blame her; since there is hardly such another happy couple in the world.
I am glad to hear that the ceremony is over, so much to both your satisfactions: may this matrimony be but atenth partas happy as that I am witness to here; and Mr. and Mrs. Murray will have that to boast of, which few married people have, even among those we call happy!
For my part, I believe I shall never care to marry at all; for though I cannot be so deserving as Mrs. B. yet I shall not bear to think of a husband much less excellent than hers. Nay, by what I see inherapprehensions, and conceive of the condition she hourly expects to be in, I don't think a lady can be requited with alessworthy one, for all she is likely to suffer on a husband's account, and for the sake ofhisfamily and name.
Mrs. Andrews, a discreet worthy soul as ever I knew, and who in her aspect and behaviour is far from being a disgrace even to Mr. B.'s lady, is with her dear daughter, to her no small satisfaction, as you may suppose.
Mr. B. asked my advice yesterday, about having in the house a midwife, to be at hand, at a moment's warning. I said I feared the sight of such a person would terrify her: and so he instantly started an expedient, of which her mother, Mrs. Jervis, and myself, approved, and have put into practice; for this day, Mrs. Harris, a distant relation ofmine, though not of yours, Sir and Madam, is arrived from Essex to make me a visit; and Mr. B. has prevailed upon her, incompliment to me, as he pretended, to accept of her board in his house, while she stays in town, which she says, will be about a week.
Mrs. Harris being a discreet, modest, matron-like person, Mrs. B. took a liking to her at first sight, and is already very familiar with her; and understanding that she was a doctor of physic's lady, and takes as much delight in administering to the health of her own sex, as her husband used to do to that of both, Mrs. B. says it is very fortunate, that she has so experienced a lady to consult, as she is such a novice in her own case.
Mr. B. however, to carry on the honest imposture the better, just now, in presence of Mrs. Harris, and Mrs. Andrews, and me, asked the former, if it was not necessary to have in the house the good woman? This frighted Mrs. B. who turned pale, and said she could not bear the thoughts of it. Mrs. Harris said it was highly necessary that Mrs. B. if she would not permit the gentlewoman to be in the house, should see her; and that then, she apprehended, there would be no necessity, as she did not live far off, to have her in the house, since Mrs. B. was so uneasy upon that account. This pleased Mrs. B. much, and Mrs. Thomas was admitted to attend her.
Now, you must know, that this is the assistant of my new relation; and she being apprised of the matter, came; but never did I see so much shyness and apprehension as Mrs. B. shewed all the time Mrs. Thomas was with her, holding sometimes her mother, sometimes Mrs. Harris, by the hand, and being ready to sweat with terror.
Mrs. Harris scraped acquaintance with Mrs. Thomas, who, pretending to recollect her, gave Mrs. Harris great praises; which increased Mrs. B.'s confidence in her: and she undertakes to govern the whole so, that the dreaded Mrs. Thomas need not come till the very moment: which is no small pleasure to the over-nice lady. And she seems every hour to be better pleased with Mrs. Harris, who, by her prudent talk, will more and more familiarize her to the circumstance, unawares to herself in a manner. But notwithstanding this precaution, of a midwife in the house, Mr. B. intends to have a gentleman of the profession in readiness, for fear of the worst.
Mrs. B. has written a letter, with this superscription: "To the ever-honoured and ever-dear Mr. B., with prayers for his health, honour, and prosperity in this world, and everlasting felicity in that to come. P.B." It is sealed with black wax, and she gave it me this moment, on her being taken ill, to give to Mr. B. if she dies. But God, of his mercy, avert that! and preserve the dear lady, for the honour of her sex, and the happiness of all who know her, and particularly for that of your Polly Darnford; for I cannot have a greater loss, I am sure, while my honoured papa and mamma are living: and may that be for many, very many, happy years!
I will not close this letter till all is over: happily, as I hope!— Mrs. B. is better again, and has, occasionally, made some fine reflections, directing herself to me, but designed for the benefit of her Polly, on the subject of the inconsideration of some of our sex, with regard to the circumstances she is in.
I knew what her design was, and said, "Aye, Polly, let you and I, and every single young body, bear these reflections in mind, pronounced by so excellent a lady, in a moment so arduous as these!"
The girl wept, and very movingly fell down by the door, on her knees, praying to God to preserve her dear lady, and she should be happy for ever!
Mrs. B. is exceedingly pleased with my new relation Mrs. Harris, as we call her, who behaves with so much prudence, that she suspects nothing, and told Mrs. Jervis, she wished nobody else was to come near her. And as she goes out (being a person of eminence in her way) two or three times a day, and last night staid out late, Mrs. B. said, she hoped she would not be abroad, when she should wish her to be at home—
I have the very great pleasure, my dear papa and mamma, to acquaint you, and I know you will rejoice with me upon it, that just half an hour ago, my dear Mrs. B. was brought to-bed of a fine boy.
We are all out of our wits for joy almost. I ran down to Mr. B. myself, who received me with trembling impatience. "A boy! a fine boy! dear Mr. B.," said I: "a son and heir, indeed!"
"But how does my Pamela? Isshesafe? Isshelike to do well?"—"We hope so," said I: "or I had not come down to you, I'll assure you." He folded me in his arms, in a joyful rapture: "How happy you make me, dearest Miss Darnford! If my Pamela is safe, the boy is welcome, welcome, indeed!—But when may I go up to thank my jewel?"
Mrs. Andrews is so overjoyed, and so thankful, that there is no getting her from her knees.
A man and horse is dispatched already to Lady Davers, and another ordered to Kent, to the good old man.
Mrs. Jervis, when I went up, said she must go down and release the good folks from their knees; for, half an hour before, they declared they would not stir from that posture till they heard how it went with their lady; and when the happy news was brought them of her safety, and of a young master, they were quite ecstatic, she says, in their joy, and not a dry eye among them, shaking hands, and congratulating one another, men and maids; which made it one of the most affecting sights that can be imagined. And Mr. Longman, who had no power to leave the house for three days past, hasted to congratulate his worthy principal; and never was so much moving joy seen, as this honest-hearted steward ran over with.
I did a foolish thing in my joy—I gave Mr. B. the letter designed for him, had an unhappy event followed; and he won't return it: but says, he will obtain Mrs. B.'s leave, when she is better, to open it; and the happier turn will augment his thankfulness to God, and love to her, when he shall, by this means, be blest with sentiments so different from what the other case would have afforded.
Mrs. B. had a very sharp time. Never more, my dear papa, talk of a husband to me. Place all your expectations on Nancy! Not one of these men that I have yet seen, is worth running these risques for! But Mr. B.'s endearments and tenderness to his lady, his thankful and manly gratitude and politeness, when he was admitted to pay his respects to her, and his behaviour to Mrs. Andrews, and to us all, though but for a visit of ten minutes, was alone worthy of all her risque.
I would give you a description of it, had I Mrs. B.'s pen, and of twenty agreeable scenes and conversations besides: but, for want of that, must conclude, with my humble duty, as becomes, honoured Sir, and Madam,your ever grateful
From the Same.
We have nothing but joy and festivity in this house: and it would be endless to tell you the congratulations the happy family receives every day, from tenants and friends. Mr. B., you know, was always deemed one of the kindest landlords in England; and his tenants are overjoyed at the happy event which has given them a young landlord of his name: for all those who live in that large part of the estate, which came by Mrs. B. his mother, were much afraid of having any of Sir Jacob Swynford's family for their landlord, who, they say, are all made up of pride and cruelty, and would have racked them to death: insomuch that they had a voluntary meeting of about twenty of the principal of them, to rejoice on the occasion; and it was unanimously agreed to make a present of a piece of gilt plate, to serve as basin for the christening, to the value of one hundred guineas; on which is to be engraven the following inscription:
"In acknowledgment of the humanity and generosity of the best of landlords, and as a token of his tenants' joy on the birth of a son and heir, who will, it is hoped, inherit his father's generosity, and his mother's virtues, this piece of plate is, with all due gratitude, presented, as a christening basin to all the children that shall proceed from such worthy parents, and their descendants, to the end of time.
"By the obliged and joyful tenants of the maternal estate in Bedfordshire and Gloucestershire, the initials of whose names are under engraven, viz."
Then are to follow the first letters of each person's Christian and surname.
What an honour is this to a landlord! In my opinion very far surpassing themis-nomer'dfree gifts which we read of in some kingdoms on extraordinary occasions, some of them like this! For here it is all truly spontaneous—A free giftindeed! and Mr. B. took it very kindly, and has put off the christening for a week, to give time for its being completed and inscribed as above.
The Earl and Countess of C. and Lord and Lady Davers, are here, to stand in person at the christening; and you cannot conceive how greatly my Lady Davers is transported with joy, to have a son and heir to the estate: she is every hour, almost, thanking her dear sister for him; and reads in the child all the great qualities she forms to herself in him. 'Tis indeed a charming boy, and has a great deal (if one may judge of a child so very young) of his father's manly aspect. The dear lady herself is still but weak; but the joy of all around her, and her spouse's tenderness and politeness, give her cheerful and free spirits; and she is all serenity, ease, and thankfulness.
Mrs. B., as soon as the danger was over, asked me for her letter with the black seal. I had been very earnest to get it from Mr. B. but to no purpose; so I was forced to tell who had it. She said, but very composedly, she was sorry for it, and hoped he had not opened it.
He came into her chamber soon after, and I demanded it before her. He said he had designed to ask her leave to break the seal, which he had not yet done; nor would without her consent.
"Will you give me leave, my dear," said he, "to break the seal?"—"If you do, Sir, let it not be in my presence; but it is too serious."—"Not, my dear, now the apprehension is so happily over: it may now add to my joy and my thankfulness on that account."—"Then, do as you please, Sir; but I had rather you would not."
"Then here it is, Miss Darnford: it was put into your hands, and there I place it again."—"That's something like," said I, "considering the gentleman. Mrs. B., I hope we shall bring him into good order between us in time." So I returned it to the dear writer; who put it into her bosom.
I related to Lady Davers, when she came, this circumstance; and she, I believe, has leave to take it with her. She is very proud of all opportunities now of justifying her brother's choice, and doing honour to his wife, with Lady Betty C., who is her great favourite, and who delights to read Mrs. B.'s letters.
You desire to know, my honoured papa, how Mr. B. passes his time, and whether it be in his lady's chamber? No, indeed! Catch gentlemen, the best of them, in too great a complaisance that way, if you can. "What then, does he pass his timewith you, Polly?" you are pleased to ask. What a disadvantage a man lies under, who has been once a rake! But I am so generally with Mrs. B. that when I tell you, Sir, his visits to her are much of the polite form, I believe I answer all you mean by your questions; and especially when I remind you, Sir, that Lord and Lady Davers, and the Earl and Countess of C. and your unworthy daughter, are at dinner and supper-time generally together; for Mrs. Andrews, who is not yet gone back to Kent, breakfasts, dines, and sups with her beloved daughter, and is hardly ever out of her room.
Then, Sir, Mr. B., the Earl, and Lord Davers, give pretty constant attendance to the business of parliament; and, now and-then, sup abroad—So, Sir, we are all upon honour; and I could wish (only that your facetiousness always gives me pleasure, as it is a token that you have your much-desired health and freedom of spirits), that even in jest, my mamma's daughter might pass unquestioned.
But I knowwhyyou do it: it is only to put me out of heart to ask to stay longer. Yet I wish—But I know you won't permit me to go through the whole winter here. Will my dear papa grant it, do you think, if you were to lay the highest obligation upon your dutiful daughter, and petition for me? And should you care to try? I dare not hope it myself: but when one sees a gentleman here, who denies his lady nothing, it makes one wish, methinks, that Lady Darnford, was as happy in that particular as Mrs. B.
Yourindulgence for thisonewinter, or, rather this smallremainderof it, I make not so much doubt of, you see, Madam. I know you'll call me a bold girl; but then you always, when you do, condescend to grant my request: and I will be as good as ever I can be afterwards. I will fetch up all the lost time; rise an hour sooner in the morning, go to bed an hour later at night; flower my papa any thing he pleases; read him to sleep when he pleases; put his gout into good-humour, when it will be soothed—And Mrs. B., to crown all, will come down with me, by permission of her sovereign lord, who will attend her, you may be sure: and will notallthis do, to procure me a month or two more?—If it won't, why then, I will thank you for your past goodness to me, and with all duty and cheerfulness, bid adieu to this dear London, this dearer family, and tend astilldearer papa and mamma; whose dutiful daughter I will ever be, whilst