Chapter 13

—So much my Dear, for my description of the Sternes to Colonel Campbell, tho’ I’ve seen them not, but with the Minds Eye:—be so good my dear, as to announce his name and Character to them, as it’s probable He may find them out and make himself known to them—He has been very assiduous in collecting above one half of the Money I have sent Home for their use—in his Profession He is supposed to have extraordinary Merit—and in his Principles, and Manners, He is I think, one of ten thousand—sensible, sweet tempered, & Amiable, to a very great degree—added to which, lively, comical & accomplished—Young,Handsome, rich, & a Soldier!—What fine Girl, would wish more? I borrow my Notions of Mrs. & Miss Sterne from Various Reports—By culling the good from the bad in such Cases one may at any time, form a tolerable description of a Character.—this I believe, is what’s called conveying a Lye, in the Words of Truth—but no matter—Campbell cannot be hurt by thinking favorably of them, and they might be much Injured by his forming a different opinion—for the real Dislike of a Man of sense & Honor, this dislike, founded, on Principle, is, I think, the severest Disgrace that can happen to a Woman of sentiment or reputation—May it never be the fate of Me, or Mine, Good Heaven! for if any thing in Nature could prompt me to be guilty of Suicide, it would be an Affliction of this nature, all others have their Alleviations, but this, must arise, from a consciousness of our being lost to Worth—as a Good & Wise Man, never is Influenced by Caprice, but only contemns the Sinner from his hatred of the Sin. I am grown very moral of late, I believe, my dear Friend, for I cannot help dispersing such grave reflectionsas these throughout my Letters or Discourse, both my reading, and natural turn of Mind, encourages [this] Propensity, and as it teaches me to have a good reason for the Minutiæ in all Actions which savour of kindness, or the Agreable; I am rather pleased with myself, for the cultivation of a Taste, which may promote my usefulness in Society, as well as insure my own Approbation on just Grounds.—I am a good deal altered in my appearance James, since you used to view me with the Eyes of Kindness, due only, to a second self—but, my Head and Heart, if Self Love does not mislead me, are both much improved and the Qualities of Reflection and tenderness, are no bad substitutes for that clearness of Complection, and Je-ne-scai-quoi Air, which my flatterers used to say entitled me to the Appellation of Belle Indian. I read a great deal, I scribble much—and I daily ride on Horseback, bathe in the Sea—and live most abstemiously—but I cannot manage to acquire confirmed Health in this detested Country; and what is far worse, I cannot induce Mr. Draper, to let me return to England; tho’ He must be sensible, thatboth my Constitution and Mind, are suffering by the effects of a Warm Climate—I do, and must wonder that He will not,[50]for what good Purpose my Residence Here can promote, I am quite at a loss to imagine, as I am disposed to think favorably of Mr. D’s Generosity and Principles. My dear James, it is Evident to the whole of our Acquaintance, that our Minds are not pair’d, and therefore I will not scruple informingyou—that I neither do, nor will any more, if I can help it live with Him as a Wife—my reasons for this are cogent; be assured they are;—or I would not have formed the Resolution—I explain them not to the World—tho’ I could do it, and with credit to myself; but for that very cause I will persevere in my silence—as I love not selfish Panegyricks.—How wretched must be that Woman’s Fate, my dear James, who loving Home, and having a Taste for the Acquitments [sic], both useful and Agreable, can find nothing congenial in her Partners Sentiments—nothing companionable, nothing engagingly domestic in his Manner, to endear his Presence, nor even any thing of thatGreat, or respectful sort, which creates Public Praise, and by such means, often lays the Foundation of Esteem, and Complacency at Home?—Sad, Sad State! my James—and Wo! be to the feeling Heart so circumstanced!—a Woman who might have been a Valuable Member of Society, is by suchdisunioneither a Mere Blank—or liable to every Disgrace resulting from Infamy—if finely organized—Grief & Disappointment may render useless all her Mental Faculties—if chearful by nature, and calculated to struggle with trying difficulties, in Hopes of surmounting them, these very excellencies, are so many snares to her, as they excite to Envy, Malice, & Detraction—for who is just enough to acknowledge, that an Amiable, Sensible Woman, has fund sufficient in her own Mind, to be a perpetual Resource to her in all Calamities and Exigencies? On the contrary, who does not Insinuate, that where such a Character is unhappily pair’d & Maintains her Chearfulness, Secret pleasures make her Amends for public Penances—? a thousand Causes will rather be assigned, than the real One; as few People are good enough themselves,for Goodness’s Sake, to imagine that, that Principle should regulate the Conduct of a Woman unhappily married—but surely! surely! they are mistaken—for if that same laudable Affection, will not engage to the Pursuit of every thing praise worthy—no other I fear, will ever bear us out—as Virtue, in it’s comprehensive sense, to those who understand it well must have an effect on the mind very superior to what is Excited by Inferior Principles, and yet, even these, such as Pride, the love of Fame, Wealth, Greatness—a Humour or a Name; will sometimes enable us to forego Ease & Health—and to risque Life & Honor—and can it be so divine a Thing, to Practise Worth, for Glory’s Sake—and not equally so, at least, to Practise it for it’s own—when in fact this same Glory is nothing better than one of it’s under Ministers? there never was a more just saying than that of Virtue being it’s own Reward—and those who understand it’s nature, could not wish a diviner than what springs from the consciousness of it—while they are Inhabitants of Earth, I mean—for as to a future state of Rewards & Punishments—I pretendnot to argue about it lest I should be guilty of something blamable, when I only wished to assert the cause of Goodness as preferable to all other known Causes. We can but Reason from what we know—and therefore Silence and Modesty is the proper Shield for Ignorance, in such conflicts as would prove superior to our Strength.—I wonder not at the Praises given to Mrs. Montagues Essay—it has, I am told, all the Advantages of Learning, Sound Criticism, and just Taste.—I am so far a Judge of it’s Merit, as to be confident that it bespeaks Her of a generous Nature, as it seems calculated to rescue Genius—long departed Genius from the illiberal Censures of Witty Malice, now living, and too long triumphant—but my dear James, the circumstance of all others, I most admire in Mrs. Montagues Character—is her avoiding to put her Name to this Performance—this evinces a something very superior, to what is commonly ascribed, even to good Taste—I would rather be an Attendant on her Person, than the first Peeress of the Realm—if, this proceeded from a certain Delicacy and justness of Apprehension, only to bemet with in Women of refined sense.—You say my Friend that you wonder I do not employ my leisure Hours in writing something which might reflect Lustre on my Name—and you encourage me to do so, by Praises which are easily accounted for from the partiality you ever have kindly considered my Talents with—I will be very Ingenuous with you on this Subject—There was a time, when I fancied myself capable of doing justice to some Undertaking of the Moral kind, My Taste has been thought judicious, and my language often Complimented as Elegant, this was Yoricks given opinion of it whatever his real one might be.—A little Piece or two I designed some Years ago, and finished lately—are not, perhaps unworthy of the Press, when compared with many Productions which have gained their Authors some degree of Reputation in the literate World—but my dear James, I do not think writing a Poem, a Play, an Essay, or an Anything the Chief Merit of a Woman;—so little do I think it necessary to the Fame of a good one, that I most assuredly, if capable of the Performance, would neveraffix my Name to it—my Vanity of this kind is amazingly lessened, if not quite extinct—from this you may gather, that I did not always judge so nicely, as I do at present—true my friend, a great flow of animal spirits—high Health—Youth—Flattery, and fair Prospects, wrought their usual Effects on a mind rather sprightly, than solid, but adversity is an Excellent School—and two or three serious Afflictions, have done more for me, in the way of self Knowledge, and Home Philosophy, than I might probably [have] acquired before my Grand Climateric, if Fortune had continued lavish of her Smiles to me, her once Enthusiastic Votary—a thousand little Flights which are only to be excused, on the score of Youth & Gay Fancy, now appear too trifling to have engaged the time & labour I once bestowed on them, and with a view, to raise my Consequence, I own to you my beloved Friend—for I had Romance and Vanity Enough, to think they would Answer the Airy Purpose—and add to my Praise, as much as the Letters of Madame de Sevigne or Ninon D’Lenclos did to Theirs, but as Judgment increased, Fancylessened; and now I should be as much concerned, if they were to see the Light in form of a Printed Volume as I then should if I had thought any unforeseen Accident would have robbed me the Prospect of many encomiums, which I flattered myself with the notion of being entitled to on their Publication—this change of Humour, induces me to think, that my sentiments may be as different to what they now are, some time hence, as they are at present from what they were three Years ago—and this renders me extremely averse to shewing any of my Performances, lest I should acquire a Name that I could neither support or Defend, for the Suffrages of Friendship are as liable to Error in such Cases, as the Censures of Malignancy, and I am not qualified to steer clear of this Scylla & Charybdis, by those lukewarm affections, which enables Worldly Wisdom to rest it’s appeal with the Indifferent—for I love not the neutral Character—and would never consult it, in anything which concerned the Heart or it’s good Affections, it’s cold absolves, approach too near to the Stoical Virtue—the only species of Virtue Ihave; and that because “it’s fix’d, as in a Frost”—The Praises of the whole Tribe could do nothing better than play round my Head, and that’s a minor Pleasure, compared to the Heart-felt one of kind Sympathy—I could my dear James, assign many Rational Motives for my declining to scribble for the world, even if my Inclination, and Capacity dictated the Measure—the former, seriously does not, and the latter is by no means equal to the undertaking—I have much, very much indeed to learn, before I can accomplish my first Wish of deserving to be thought, a Woman truely Amiable enough, to employ me, my whole Life; as my Powers, are not of that ready sort to receive Things quickly as if by Intuition—You must not imagine from this, that I dislike a Woman’s engaging in the Field of Literature or Science—far from it, I declare to you, if she goes to it well Armed, on the contrary, if I may presume to say so—I think that Salique Law a very absurd one which reserves to Men only, the Province of Instructing & pleasing by useful Lucubrations, the result of Genius, Taste and Contemplative Life.—I cannot helpthinking that they might be supposed to infringe on our Prerogative, if our minds were train’d in the same advantageous manner as Theirs—as to learning and the sciences I mean, for I wish not to interfere in their boistrous Pursuits.—Our Genius’s, for aught I know, may be as great, but however that may be, our Taste, Apprehension, Delicacy, in every thing We are Mutually concerned in, soars far, very far above Theirs—and as the Arrangements of Civil Life, are managed—Our Home Station, naturally induces that contemplative Turn, so advantageous to the Cause of Philosophy and all the Fine Arts—Nothing I believe but the frivolous Manners, inculcated by our frivolous Education, prevents our Capacity for disputing the Empire of Sense, Wit, and Reason with these Masculine Rulers, and that they do possess it, is rather owing to their usurped Authority as Legislators, than to any superiority in point of natural advantages—those of strength and personal courage, excepted. I love my own sex, James, and could wish for the Honor and Happiness of it, that the whole system of Female Education was very much altered, tho’ not totally reversed—Mrs. Montague’sPen, might do justice to this subject; ’tis an important one, and worthy of her—had I the Honor of her Acquaintance & good opinion, I would strenuously recommend it to her consideration—as the pleas of natural solicitude uncultivated by Art might have their just Weight, on a Mind so happily enriched as hers is by useful acquirements—You cannot think my dear James, how much I lament the want of that knowledge, which is only to be attain’d in the Spring time of Life—as my Reflection encreases, I daily am more sensible of the loss I have sustained, in not receiving those advantages which are the birthright of Girls well born, or by nature teachable, especially if their Prospects are such as to give them a chance of being fix’d in conspicuous Life—such was my Case—it is the Case of all Girls destined for India—No Beings in the World are less indebted to Education—None living, require greater Assistances from it—for the regulations of time in Eastern Countries are such that every Woman must naturally have a large portion of it, Leisure; this is either a Blessing or Curse, as our Minds are disposed—the Generality of usare extremely frivolous, and Ignorant; How should we be otherwise? We were never instructed in the Importance of any thing, but one Worldly Point, that of getting an Establishment of the Lucrative kind, as soon as possible, a tolerable Complection, an Easy Manner, some degree of taste in the Adjustment of our Ornaments, some little skill in dancing a Minuet, and singing an Air, are the Summum Bonum, of Perfections here—and these are all that Mothers, Aunts & Governess’s Inculcate.—With Some Merit, as to these Accomplishments—the very best of us—leave Europe, and Commence Wives in the East, [at] fourteen—Climate, Custom, and immediate Examples—induce to Indolence—this betrays us into the Practice of Gallantry—that Prisoner of all that’s Amiable & Good—No Country in the World abounds more with it’s pernicious Consequences, no Women in the World are less Subject to the force of genuine Love!—this may seem a Paradox, but it is in fact none at all—for their grand object once attained, that of a settlement in Life—they know not what other to pursue—their Conduct is then regulated by Chance—and they are Intriguers,or nominally virtuous—as Beauty, Health, or Temptation dictates—this is a sad Picture, my dear James—Yet it is but too strong a Resemblance—and surely the hapless originals of it, are less blamable than their Early Instructors—Why were they not taught the necessity of useful Employments—and consideringMorals, next to religion, as the most essential of all Things to their Happiness in both Worlds—poor Things! theWordis a bye one to Them—and the Precepts, it inculcates—the subject of their illiberal Derision—Many of them have good Propensities—but Habit, so counteracts their momentary Resolves of the serious kind that no steadiness in Well doing must be expected from them in this Climate—the attaining useful knowledge—and a Will of our Own, on proper Grounds, is dreadful up Hill Work, without the assistance of Precept & Example, the one occasionally to lean on, and the other to stimulate; And those Persons, must owe very important obligations to Nature, who by dint of knowledge, self taught, can rise superior to the Prejudices of India, while an Indian; I mean not to be, or to seemguilty of any Pride or Vanity my dear James—when I swear to you in the openness of my Heart, that I’ve not yet known, or seen the Woman abroad, whom I would associate with thro’ Choice, in preference to being alone—there may be a thousand others, more sensible, or Amiable, but the Sense or Qualifications, of those I have met with, have had nothing in them congenial to my taste—and therefore we only associate in the formal way; this I am sorry for—for I love the Company of my own sex, when they are mild, Ingenuous & devoted to Cleanliness—Your Miss Bristow, I’m told, was an elegant Woman—I fancy so—for she was not liked Here and is styled, by way of Reproach, the Reserved & Poetical Lady—she has Genius, I think, for I have seen some little Pieces of hers, which abound with happy Thoughts; and her Enthusiasm in matters of Love or Friendship, makes me like her Character, tho’ I have never seen her Person—I wish she had continued Here—we should, I think, have been upon a good footing together, for you know my James, that I have none of that narrowness which excitesto Envy, or Detraction, at the sight of superior Merit. I fear, poor Woman, that she will not be as happy as she deserves to be, for the man, she has chosen, by Mrs. Shaws Account, is a contemptible one, and in wretched Circumstances, without a prospect of Improving them—She now, I am told, lives in the black Town at Madrass, without Friends, without Acquaintances, Conveniences, Notice.—Still—her Book, and her Pen afford her constant Employment—Here is a proof of the Advantages of a natural good Taste, being well cultivated—but for the resources in her own mind, Mrs. Tasswell must have sunk a prey to affliction—or been a Wretch indeed—if incapable of Feeling what she has experienced—for of all Misery, that I think is the greatest, which renders us incapable of estimating our Blessings—or misfortunes arightly—be my Woes in Life what they will, may I never be delivered of them at so sad a cost as inconsiderateness—“I had rather stand all Adventures with Religion, (even tho’ I practised not the Duties of it) than Endeavor to get rid of the Thoughts of it by Diversion.”—Mrs. Taswell, I hopeis employ’d in some Ingenious Work,—a Woman who writes well, cannot I believe write too much, if she neglects none of the Duties of her own sex to be so engaged—but these are certainly, her first concern, and these accomplished—the more she excels in, the more she Evidences the strength of her Genius, and that Economy of Time, which it is Wisdom, to be an Economist of.—Miss Shaw, I think, a whining, La La Girl—don’t you think so my dear? I am sorry if I do her injustice, but there’s nothing which attaches me to her, either in the way of sentiment, manners, or appearance—for I detest that covert insignificancy, which is comprised in the appellation of good natured sort of Girls—to me, it implies, that any Man might make a Fool of Her, who could be satisfied with a non-resisting Victory. Mrs. Playdell, and Miss Harris, as I told you by the Hampshire, remain’d at the Cape instead of proceeding to Bombay—had they come here, I would have shewn them all the rites of Hospitality—Capt. Taylor, will tell you all you wish to know relative to them—the Mr. Gambier you mentioned to me,at your Father’s request my dear, went Home Capt. Taylors Passenger, He is a fine Youth, and dear to me, and all who know Him, on the score of his Worth, strict Principles, and Amiable Manners are his real Characteristicks—I have given him a letter for you, by way of Passport, to your Notice—He desired & deserves, it—therefore I could not refuse Him—I fear poor Youth, We never shall see Him again, for the Disorder in his Neck (an Aneurism) is of too dangerous a nature, to give sanguine Hopes of his surviving the necessary Operation in case He submits to it—and if He does not—He must never more Visit India, as the Heat of this Climate would soon increase it, beyond the Power of Art to reduce it or save Him. Mr. Horsley too—another Friend of mine, I have desired Mr. James, to interest himself, in obtaining your smiles, and good Graces for—I know not that you’ll like Him at first, I rather think not—for He’s reserved, and has none of that Easy Address, which Impresses People Agreably at first sight, but He has one of the clearest Heads, my James, that I ever knew, addedto which a correctness of Taste and Nobleness of sentiment, which does Honor to the Manly Character—I would not Introduce Him, to any I loved, if I did not think their merit would bear them out—for the Creature is penetrating, and satyrical—but you have nothing to fear from those Qualities; for it’s only to Impertinence, Affection, and Arrogance, that He’s severe, to be frank with you my James—I know not the Person in India, I’m afraid of—now that He has left it—nor do I know the Man in the World whose good Opinion I would rather Insure, and that because—He, amongst a thousand Indians—stands alone in mine, as a Competent Judge of Merit of that sort, particularly, which adds Grace & Worth to the Female Character—The World says I am a favorite with Him; and I the rather suspect it, (tho’ He has said severer Things to me, than Man before Him, ever did)—because He devoted much of his Time to me, and this, I believe, he would not have done, if it had not been the result of his free Choice—for never mortal was less Punctilious—, spoke less to the sex, and more to the Reason, thanHe did, when once Interested enough to speak his real sentiments, to any Woman.—I think Horsley altogether, a very great Character—He has a thousand singularities, a thousand Faults—but they are infinitely overbalanced by one of the most active Minds, and Generous Hearts that ever I knew Inhabit a human Frame—I give you all these Lights into his Character, in order that you may manage with Him accordingly, for I wish those I love, to be liked by the Discerning & Worthy,—if James, admits him to any degree of Intimacy in your Family—make him read Poetry to you my dear—his manner of doing it will charmyou—and yet the Creature has no more notion of music than I have of Algebra—this has often puzzled me—such a Judge of Harmony—and yet no taste in fine sounds; I declare to you that I have been quite mortified, when I, who think I may pretend to some little merit as to Ear & Voice, have aimed at doing justice to Poetry, and could not please myself for my Life, when upon consigning the Book to Him—He has exactly hit the modulation & manner I in vain wished to compass,—andyet his natural Voice is almost as defective, as his Judgment in music.—but enough of Him, after telling you, that He visits England on the score of extreme bad Health, (indeed He has gone thro’ enough to kill forty Giants in this Country) and will in all probability be obliged to continue there for some Years, before he has the confirmed Health, He once possessed.—I cannot my dear, send you the six hundred Rupees I received from Colonel Campbell for the use of the Sternesby this ship, as none but Company’s servants are allowed Bills on the Company, on their own Account.—Mr. D, cannot swear, that this money is his own Property—however, I account to you or them for it with Interest—and if this Restriction as to Bills, is not taken off by the Mocha ship, I will lay out the money in Pearl (as that I am told sells advantageously in England, Very much so at present) and send it by Capt. Jones, or somebody for their use; and by such means, they can in no way be losers, and I hope it will be no Inconvenience to them, to wait a few months longer for it, then I wished them to do—as I imagine their Expectationsfrom me, must have ceased, with the last Bill, I transmitted to England.—O my dear Friend for God sake, pay them all the money of mine in your Hands—would it were twice as much! the Ring too is much at Mrs. Sternes service—as should be every thing I have in the world, rather than I would freely owe the shadow of an obligation to Her.—You say my dear, in your letter of May 29th. 1771, dated from Eltham—“I hope my Lydia’s Letter did not give you pain, perhaps not Pleasure, but you must make some allowance, for she loves her Mother, who really is a good Woman—and even the Proposal however kind the Intention in having Lydia live with you, yet the taking from Mrs. Sterne her only Child, and only Comfort, and taking no notice of the Mother, was rather ill timed in my Eliza and threw some difficulties in my way”—Miss Sternes Letter did indeed my dear, give me a great deal of pain—it was such a one, as I by no means deserved, in answer to one wrote in the true spirit of kindness, however it might have been construed.—Mr. Sterne had repeatedly told me,that his Daughter was as well acquainted with my Character, as he was with my appearance—in all his letters, wrote since my leaving England, this Circumstance is much dwelt upon—another too, that of Mrs. Sternes being in too precarious a state of health, to render it probable that she would survive many months—her violence of Temper (indeed James I wish not to recriminate or be severe just now) and the hatefulness of her Character are strongly urged to me, as the Cause of his Indifferent Health, the whole of his Misfortunes, and the Evils that would probably shorten his Life—the Visit Mrs. Sterne meditated some time Antecedent to his Death, he most pathetically lamented, as an adventure that would wound his Peace, and greatly embarrass his Circumstances, the former on account of the Eye Witness He should be, to his Childs Affections having been Alienated from Him by the Artful Misrepresentations of her Mother, under whose Tutorage she had ever been—and the latter, from the capacity of her Disposition—for well do I know say’s He,—“that the sole Intent of her visit is to plague &fleece me—had I money enough, I would buy off this Journey, as I have done several others—but till my sentimental work is published, I shall not have a single sous more than will Indemnify People for my immediate Expences.” Soon after the receipt of this Intelligence I heard of Yoricks Death, the very first ship which left us afterwards, I wrote to Miss Sterne by and with all the freedom which my Intimacy with her Father & his Communications warranted.—I purposely avoided speaking of her Mother for I knew nothing to her Advantage—and I had heard a great deal to the reverse—So circumstanced—, How could I with any kind of Delicacy mention a Person, who was hateful to my departed Friend, when for the sake of that very friend—I wished to confer a kindness on his Daughter—and to enhance the value of it,—solicited her society, & consent to share my Prospects, as the highest Favor which could be shewn to myself?—indeed I knew not, but Mrs. Sterne, from the Description I had received of her, might be no more—or privately confined, if in Being, owing to a Malady, which I’ve been told the Violenceof her temper subjects her to. You my dear, knew nothing of the Ladies at this time—my letter of Invitation was sent before I received your’s urging the necessity of their circumstances—and the worthiness of their Characters—but can they be thus worthy, when so ready to take part against a stranger—tho’ that Stranger is the friend of a woman they profess to Esteem & admire, & has ever had the Advantage of being described by her in an Amiable light? Non Credo! The Intention, ought in all Causes, my James, to sanctify the Act, where the kindness of the One is visible, and the propriety of the other, nothing worse than doubtful—and so it ever will my dear to benevolent Natures. Miss Sterne, in her letter, tells me—that her Father did sometimes misrepresent her mother, in order to justify his neglect of her—I do not think highly of a Daughter, who could compliment a living Parent, however justly at the expence of a Deceased one—but as this was Miss Sternes opinion—she might in common justice to have supposed that Mrs. Sterne had been misrepresented to me, this would have accounted for my silenceon the subject & clearly evinced that I could not mean any kind of Disrespect to herself or mother by not naming her in my letter of Invitation—indeed my dear—so far from it—that my silence on the subject, as I’ve hinted before, only proceeded from a Delicacy w’ch is natural to me, when I either wish or mean to speak to the affections—I have been strangely deceived in Miss Sternes—or she never could have perverted my sentiments so much as to suppose I did her an Injury, in addressing her as a kindred Spirit, and with all the freedom I could wish to subsist between myself and a sister of my Heart—the circumstance in particular, which you allude to was such as would of itself, have given me some reputation in the Eyes of Discerning and kind Sensibility! consequently it ought not to have obstructed your progress in my favor—nor would it my James—Excuse me—if these Rivals of mine in your friendship had been half as deserving, as your absent Eliza—I cannot account for Mrs. Sterne’s pique towards me from that, (as it proved) unfortunate letter—not on any one principle of Goodness, mydear, can I account for it—for however the Woman might have been displeased, at my supposed slight of her, the Mother I think, must have pleaded well for me, in a kind maternal breast—as she must have been sensible that I meant affectionate services to her Child, however I’d failed in the Punctilios due to herself, and that fond sensations, in such a Cause, must be lukewarm indeed in that[51]could not counteract the effects of Caprice—Reason, she had none, to be angry with me, knowing that my sole knowledge of her was derived from Yoricks Communications—and that such, were not of the favorable sort—I believed Sterne implicitly, I believed him!I had no Motive to do otherwise than believe him just, generous & unhappy—till his Death gave me to know, that he was tainted with the Vices of Injustice, Meanness & Folly.Nothing had ever offered to remove my prejudice against the Widows Character—till your assurances made me wish to be divested of it—Why then angry with me for a slight, which had it’s foundation in real Propriety when the very Proposalwhich Accompanied it, ought to have acted as a sponge on that, and a thousand such trivial offences, if I had been guilty of them? why? me!—why—I’ll tell you my Dear—because such Commentations on the beauty of a good Action—are like those Pretenders to science, who viewing a fine Poem, Statue, piece of Architecture, or Painting, have not latitude of mind enough, to comprehend the whole beauty of the Design, but enough of Presumtion to censure a Line—a Toe, a Pillar, or single error of the Pencil; if any of these vary in the smallest degree from the Rules of Art—Science may be Taught, and so may good breeding, Taste, Worth and Genius must be innate—to fill the Graceful, whether in Still or Active Life.—A Connoisseur in either, will refer to thePlan, in preference to seeking those Minute Blemishes, from w’ch the finest Models are not wholly exempt—and if all is fair, and well proportionedThere, He with pleasure fixes his Eye on it as the Grand object worthy his Attention, in the way of Praise & Criticisms. And thus, I should have supposed, a Widow & Daughter of the Sentimental Yorick, capable of acting upon everyoccasion, in which it was given them to distinguish sterling merit from the false—for such I call every species of good Breeding, in some Cases, when Generosity, and Delicacy are principally requisite—I would engage, in a twelvemonth, to train any Girl of moderate abilities, to all the necessary Forms, and peculiar Etiquettes of genteel Behaviour—but I would not engage to make her capable of reaching one Generous Thought—’tis no hard matter, “to dwell in Decency’s forever”—those who find Virtue painful,—have endeavor’d, and succeeded in it—I should not have imagined, that Mrs. & Miss Sterne needed to have been told, there were greater Wants, than what result’d from an Ignorance of, or Defect in mere Ceremonies—these have their use, no Doubt—and I can admire them as much as any Body in Dissipated Life, where nothing superior to Amusing the Imagination, is I suppose aimed at tho’ serious consequences do sometimes happen from our frequenting such scenes—but I should form a very queer opinion of a Friend—or Stranger, who had it in their Power to oblige me—Meant to do so—and either tête-à-tête, or by Letter—prefacedthe Intention with the Flatteries agreable enough in a Rout Room—any fashionable Circle or Epistle Dedicatory—for there, they are common, and one naturally expects to find ’em. Any species of Civility, I could have exerted towards Mrs. Sterne, in the Crisis you know of, would have been just asill-timed. Complaisance, if not something more hyperbolical—for I certainly entertained a most unfavorable opinion of her—and thought I paid a high Compliment to her Delicacy in forbearing to speak of her at all—as my Imagination suggested nothing good—and to profess a liking or solicitude about Persons, or Things, I am no way interested about—it’s what I cannot do, my dear James—Nor do I Honor Those who Can—A few words more, of the Widow & Daughter, and then I hope to have done with the subject—when I think of Miss Sternes reply, to a letter replete with kindness—for such I am sure it was, because such, I meant it should be—and the Mother starting any difficulties to oblige me in a Point I had much at Heart—because I had neglected a mere Ceremony—which in my Case—could have meant justnothing at all at the very best—I can, and do pronounce from my very soul—that I think them as unworthy my Friendship—as any two Persons, I know, or ever yet heard of—and it does indeed, wound both my Pride, and Love, that the Woman in Life, I most Value—should bring them into Competition with myself, when she names me as her Friend—her dear Eliza.—I hate Competitions in Love, or Friendship; and am not more Jealous in the one Case, than in the other—but you my dear James, have nothing to apprehend, on the score of this Passion, for it is of that quiet sort which can offend nobody, or prey on anything but my own Peace—I do not love easily—but my Affections once given—and they are irrecoverable, whether treated with the Distinction they Merit or not—I have no Idea of loving any two Friends equally, or indeed with the same species of Affection,My, Heart, naturally forms an Election—and would I think—sooner break, than suffer the Preference due to that Choice, to be at all Infringed upon—Esteem—Complacency—it doubtless would ever be susceptible of, where the worthy were to be found; anddifferent degrees of these Qualities as the Objects were more or less Amiable—or peculiarly circumstanced——but one Friend in the Emphatical Sense of the Word—and one Love together with the Relations arising from that union—are I think—sufficient to engross the whole serious affections of any one Woman—and where they do not, they are not the friend or Lover, I could wish to be, or to be thought capable of being for which I giveAll. I think, I think my James—I have a right to expect reciprocal affection—at least nothing less, I am sure would gratify my Pride, or satisfy my Love—but in opinions of this sort—I—perhaps; consult a very improper Standard—tho’ a very natural one—in appealing to my own Heart—for that has ever deceived me in the judgment I have formed of other Peoples—still, I must refer to it—for I know of no other Rule and Measure, that is not equally—if not more liable, to mislead me—and I believe it’s better to suffer occasionally by the fallibility of what’s well known to us—than trust to chance for our Success—by having recourse to foreign Expedients—I blame not a good Man orWoman, for having a sincere regard & even Friendship for a bad person for such Things are Possible—for They have been—but I do extremely blame or pity, any Person who having elected another to be the chosen partner of their Heart—can yet suffer a second or third, to dispute the preference & Privileges only due to the First—the Thing could never be, my James—if that one, had been loved with genuine warmth, as well as Distinction—for it is just as natural for us to distinguish between Character, as Faces—no two of which could ever be proved alike—and choice is never I believe neutral in such Cases—it naturally points to the one in preference to the other tho’ not always to the best—still there is a necessity for it’s choosing for itself for it will not be controul’d, and where that’s the case, ’tis wisdom to give it scope—by aiming to direct it only—We may break the force of the Distemper’s by eluding them, but in no other way can we restrain it’s Powers—I once had a sincere affection for a sweet pretty French Woman—Young, lively, tender, sensible, and happily married—she saw the earnestness I felt to please her—andjustified my partiality in her favor by disclaiming any Title to it—as her heart was too much engrossed by her Husband, and an Italian Cousin to do justice to the sensibility of Mine—“My dear Eliza—said she—I see you are fondly disposed to like me above any other Person—(this was true)—I feel grateful for this preference for it does me Honor, from a Mind so Ingenuous and capable of Refinement (so she was pleased to say) as Yours—but my dear Girl—I will have nothing more than your Esteem, in common with other agreable Women, for nothing more, can I give you, of myself—and I should be guilty of the highest injustice, if I encouraged in you a hope, that I could be your Friend, in mine, & your sense of the word—’tis impossible my Eliza—for I have from Infancy, been tenderly attached to a sweet Woman on the other side of the Alps—and my Husband, is almost the Object of my Adoration—These two possess my whole Heart—It has noroomfor other Objects—Esteem, Complacency, Generosity, Humanity & Civility—are qualities the World has a right to—these, I can bestowoccasionally; but these constitute not the whole of Friendship, tho’ they are absolutely requisite to the Formation of it—Your notions My Dear, are just as Delicate as my Own—Your heart is equally tender—and your first Regards will be a prize to any Person, capable of deserving them; reserve them, my dear, for some amiable woman unfetter’d by what theWorldcallsfriends, or unclogged by sisters, and she will do justice to your Preference—I cannot—for I cannot give you mine, tho’ I think you worthy of it—and without a mutual feeling in such Cases no Commerce of the kind, was ever durable or Happy—” I admired Mrs. Martaigne, for her Ingenuousness, but I had not the better opinion of her sensibility, or Generosity for haranguing me thus—and so I told her—She always answered my objections, with that kindness and good sense, which were natural to her—but never thought of me I believe with any thing more than a transient emotion of good Will, when I was out of her Presence—this sorely afflicted me, for I would have abandon’d anything understood by the word Diversion, to have been twoHours in her Company—and I could not bear to think that I should be always desirous of associating with her—without her seeming to think my society either an addition or Dimunition to her satisfaction—I once complain’d of this—and before her husband—with all thePathosI was mistress of. She heard me with the greatest sweetness—and never once Interrupted me, tho’ I was more vehement than was reconcilable to good manners—but the Truth was—that I was mortified, at feeling my own Insignificancy before the most Amiable Couple, I knew in the World.—“Where situations in Life are not similar—and minds have the same good Propensities (said the charming Janatone)—there always must be some degree of Doubt and Chagrin in the suffering Party—had you my Eliza, been happily married—tenderly connected with one of your own sex—and enjoyed all the advantages [of] liberal Education, as I have done—You, like me, would have had, your whole stock of affection occupied by two Persons—& then my dear, you had been a happy Woman—for both Martaigne & myself, have athousand times remark’d that We never in our Various Wanderings, met with an uncultivated Creature, so much indebted to Nature, for every good affection of the Heart.—Your affections, now my dear, are diffused.—You know not the strength of them—Mine are collected as in a Focus—to make use of a Term of science—and that Circumstance, together with the Happiness of my Destiny in having chosen well—is all the superiority I can boast over you—My Lover (pointing to Martaigne) who is a Philosopher has made human nature his study—can explain to you why it’s impossible—that even a good Amiable Woman should do justice to more than the Claims of a Husband Friend, and a female one—the rest of the World—I own to you, my sensible Girl, are nothing to me in comparison of these, but that I have not Penetration enough to see merit in Various Characters—but I certainly have not materials to reward it, in more than my stated number—did the Fancy of doing so occur to me—I must to accomplish it—take from those I am bound to, by every tye of Love, Gratitude & Sympathy—and then Imight cease to promote the Happiness of those Persons who now constitute the sole Value of mine, (for Lovers & Friends are jealous of Competition, and they are right to be so, as the Principal worth oftheirprivileges is derived, from there beingTheirprivileges only,) and I will not risque it, why should I? for what? to pursue, and accomplish another Happiness? I am contented with that I possess, and well I may [be]—Merit even, is not always so rewarded—and I have no Idea, of any Felicity on Earth, superior to what I now experience—I have been taught to think—& I truly believe it—that a Woman, however capacious her mind—and Amiable her manners—has but such a Portion of Worth as Enables her to fill the Duties of her Station well—and if her Destiny subjects her to a Worthy Partner in Life, He & his, especially with the Addition of a female Friend, offer scope enough, for the Exertion of all her Talents & good Propensities, be they ever so numerous, and endearing—And it is a Maxim with me, from which I believe, I never shall depart—that where a Married Woman, evinces a desire to please the otherSex—& professes attachments to many, or more than one Individual of her own—that she has, either been unfortunate in her Choice—or has not those Qualities, which could enable her to fulfill the great Duties, of Love & Friendship fitly & Handsomely.”—How like you, the Sentiments of Mrs. Martaigne my dear James—? Whether it was that her Person & Manner, gave Advantages to Them, or that they really made a Strong Impression on me from the Propriety of Them, I know not; but in my Life, I never felt so strong a Disposition to believe a Woman. She often told me, that she was unworthy the Love of such a heart as mine, because she could not return it—Respect for her Memory & frequent recollections of her Various Excellencies, is now all that remains with me relative to the Lovely Janatone; for she died three years ago—after surviving her Husband about a week and her Friend a twelvemonth—What had such a Woman to do in life after the survival of her best affections? Unless indeed as an Example to all others, how they should grieve upon such Disastrous Circumstances——knowingher, as I did, I was not sorry to hear of her Releasement so soon after the Death of Martaigne—Charming, Happy Couple! I have enthusiasm enough to wish to undertake a Journey into Italy, for the pleasure of Weeping over their Tomb Stone—and think the Sad Luxury, would Administer, more to my Happiness; than half the Pursuits, which the World styles Pleasant—I never shall contemplate, their Like again—Sense, Wit, Literature, All the Manly Accomplishments & Graces, were his!—Beauty, Softness, and every feminine Virtue Hers!—Their Story was Romantic—their Life Pleasant, and their Deaths I doubt not most Happy!—You may have heard me speak of them, before—but never with so much Explicitness—I had my reasons for being reserved on the subject—They were in England when I left it—but quite Incognito—Mr. Sterne Introduced me to their Notice—the most Agreable Service, He ever did me—for till I saw Madame de Martaigne—I never saw the Character, who came up to my Ideas of Female Beauty & Worth—till I knew her Husband—I never conceived it possible for a Man to please a whole Life—withoutthe least Apprehension of Indifference or Satiety! Excuse this Elogium in their Praise to you my dear James, tho’ you knew them not—You would have loved, as much as I admired Them—and joined your Tears with mine, for the Loss of Persons so Amiably distinguished—this subject has such hold of me, that I cannot readily quit it—and therefore I’ll indulge the Penserozo Humours, by telling you a couple of little anecdotes, as such matters often give a better Insight into Character, than all the great Outlines—Upon reading Lord Lyttletons Monody, on the Death of his Lucy—she used to wish that Martaigne had wrote, and that she had been the subject—declaring, that to be so lamented—she would consent to dye, and that with Pleasure—Westminster Abbey, was her favorite Scene of Amusement—Contemplation rather—on account of a Monument there inscribed to the Memory of a Mrs. Nightingale, you may have noticed it, as it is a very Singular one, and well Executed—Death is stalking out of a Cavern—Aims his Dart at a Woman—and her Husband Endeavors to repel the Stroke, with an Anxiety andTerror in his Countenance, more Easy to conceive than describe—Mrs. M—— never passed the Abbeyif alone, but she called to look at this Monument—often went there, from a very distant part of the Town, on no other Errand—and never saw it I believe, but it cost her more Tears, than the deepest wrote Tragedy would have done. She used to say—that Octavia was the first of all female Characters in Ancient History—and that Marc Anthony deserved to lose the World, for his insensibility to the Virtues of such a wife, rather than for attaching himself to a Cleopatra—Prior of all our English Poets, was her Favorite—and his Nut brown Maid, her Theme of Admiration whenever it was named—Solomons Egyptian, was a grand Favorite with her—especially when she returned the Proffer’d Wreath—afterwards, indeed, the Girl talked too much—but altogether, she behaved nobly—now poor Afra,Ithink, was not inferior to her—and deserved a better fate than she met with—read the second book of Priors Solomon my dear, if it is not familiar to you, in order that you may form a judgment of her taste, from the above specimenof it—You will find it in the Second Volume of his Works—but I’ll give you no more of her Criticisms—for if I was to recollect the whole of them, I should fill a Volume, and the above are sufficient, to give you an Idea of her sensibility and Taste—I know not how other People might be affected by these Traits in a Character—but I know, I cannot think of them, without an Emotion which is pleasing to me, because it flatters me with the notion of some worth, as I cannot foresee other benefit from it, than what arises from the consciousness of a tender sensibility—and that is in Fact—all, in all—tho’ the World is too often pleased to Judge otherwise. I thank you my dear, and with all my Heart for the Explicitness you have used as to Betsey’s[52]situation—she is now I hope at Mrs. Terry’s—if you remember my Dear, you recommended this school to me when I was in England—and a twelvemonth ago, I desired Mrs. Whitehill[53]to remove her from Newington to Kensington—and I shall insist on the Circumstance of her sleeping in anAiry Room, unincumber’d with scholars, tho’ the Price of her Schooling should be greatly rais’d by it—as to having her a Parlour Boarder—I know not what to say My James—as I cannot think more highly of the tall Girls so distinguished than I do of the lesser Misses, en Groupe—in General those Girls are horribly frivolous, or Artful; and I would rather My Darling retained the simplicity of a Child, by associating with those of her own Age only, than acquired any of the knowledge, which Parlour Boarder Maxims too frequently inculcates—for Betsey, if I mistake not, has much observation for her Years, and would soon from the liveliness of her apprehension become a Proficient in all those Flirtations & Flippancies so commonly found in Women Girls—I think, my dear, I cannot consent to her being a Parlour Boarder; the increase of Expence would weigh nothing with me, If I thought it would be for her advantage, but as I do not it certainly has some weight in the Scale of Objection—I shall not only write to Mrs. Whitehill about the Chamber arrangement, but to Mrs. Terry, enclosing it to Mrs. Whitehill, and desiring her to deliverit or not as she thinks it will add force to her Directions.—I detest Boarding Schools, my James—I know, from having experienced in my own Case, how little of the Useful is to be acquired there & I am truely sensible of the risque a Child runs, of being ruined in Constitution, & forever Corrupted in her Morals in those Seminaries, for in order to secure both the one and the other, every Child it associates with, ought to be of as Amiable Propensities as itself—and can this be expected when there are fifty Children, all descended from different Parents, no one of which may be like the other, in either affections humour or Blood? And who of feeling can be satisfied to trust to Chance for that which is to constitute the Honor & Welfare, or disgrace & misery of a beloved Child? for ’tis Certain, that the Principles inculcated in Youth, and confirmed by Habit, more or less influence all our succeeding Actions—& creates the Portion of praise, or blame which fix’s our Character in Life.—I have thought often, and very much on this matter, and the more I ponder it, the more I am convinced in my firstparticularly for an Home Education—and this is one of my grand Inducements for pining after a reunion to my Child, for I do think my James, that I am better qualified to be her Instructress than any other human Being—and this, because I am her Mother, and as such infinitely more Interested in her Welfare than any Friend, however cordial can be, for, on her Establishment in Life, do I think to found my own Prospects of a Mild quiet Evening, after a very boistrous Day—as such it must be, if my Autumn, partakes of my Spring, & Summers Nature—& I have no reason to expect otherwise—Miracles having long since ceased to Operate—Consequently, Policy, as well as Maternal Affection induces me to wish the Cultivation of this Plant under my own Eye, as so much, so very much depends on the flourishing of it—for I think James, if this poor Girl, was to prove unhappy, or worthless, that it would weigh me down much sooner than Loads of Accumulated Affliction reserved for myself alone—or Independed [sic] of her fate—for with that, is united the future Chart of mine—if she is deserving & Amiable, I cannot be whollymiserable—if the reverse—which, Heaven forbid! Not all the Blessings in Life—can be superior—to[o] Tasteless—to me—for my Ideas of Happiness are so Interwoven with those of her good Destiny, that in Fact, they are one & the same—and nothing more variable, than a Distinction in Terms—this known to Mr. Draper—and most assuredly felt by me with all the Agonies of Doubt and longing Expectation; I do & must wonder—that He refuses the request so often made, that of my going Home & fixing this Object under my own Protection—for Independent of my Health—which really is Very precarious—I live in a manner, so utterly irreconciliable to my own good opinion in the way of Delicacy and in the Public’s favorable Eye—that I seriously should wish to leave India, if I had no other motive for it than wishing to change the scene—but when I take into consideration, Betseys Welfare, (wch. I’m vain enough to think is suffering by my absence from her, tho’ I’ve a high opinion of Mrs. Whitehill altogether)—my present situation—M(r). Drapers extreme Indifference about me—what I may lose as to myChilds Improvements by not visiting England—and the little use there can be to any Person my continuing Here—I must & do think I am very hardly dealt with—as it can only arise from a notion very Injurious to my Principles—and as such, I can and do feel the Indignity, with all the bitterness of a wounded Spirit—for I have not deserved to be thought ill of—nor am I treated, as if I was—when there’s any occasion for the Exertions of my Epistolary talents, or Address—I only say this to you James—what my Thoughts are upon such occasions I will not say, tho’ I am confident that no Husband acts the Politic, any more than the Generous part by a Woman—when He at times can descend to solicit her aid—and at others, use her with unmanly violence, lest a notion of her own superiority should induce her, to contemn his Authority—Contemptible Reasoning! I do my James detest those Maxims of Rule, which are founded on Sex alone—and can as heartily despise the Man who has recourse to Them, because He may, from the Accidental Circumstance of his Gender alone.—In Marriage, as, the most seriousof all social Compacts—all people ought I think to determine on living well together, whether seduced into it by Love, or the Prospect of Convenience—at least, I’m moved to Wonder when sensible Individuals don’t plan ingenuously & act conformably to it, in every Thing which regards their mutual Interest, for as to separate there’s no such Thing between People of Morals & good Judgment, when they are once fated to pass their lives together.—Children—their mutual Interest in having a Home Comfortable, Affectionate, Orderly, a mind at Ease, and Respect abroad—are so many pleasing Links which depend entirely on their own Chain of good Conduct—and these must rivet those propensities to well doing—w’ch the sensible Practise, when Prudence alone views the reverse of such Picture in a distressful Light—I yesterday heard a story of a married pair, which pleased me greatly, from the sensible singularity of it—tho’ I avoided making any comments at the time—A Gentleman in the North of very large fortune—and indolent turn of mind, was extremely desirous of marrying a Woman of such sprightlytalents, and good Disposition as might rouse his mind from it’s usual state of Inactivity, and at the same time, Induce her to be grateful for his preference, and never think of taking advantage of his Supine Humour—this you’ll say, might be difficult to accomplish, however as he was perfectly Indifferent as to Money Matters—Very Young & rather Handsome—Many Necessitous Girls endeavor’d to Captivate His Notice—but all in Vain—till a Very smart spirited one, in the Person of a Toad Eater threw out a Bait for Him at a Water drinking Place. He was attracted by her appearance, and had singularity enough to admire her courage, in thinking of a Man worth three thousand a year. They married, and the generality of People Prophecied that Misery would be the Portion of each, as Interest on one side, and Caprice on the other was only supposed to have cemented their union—but the man had great good Judgment, as well as generosity, under the appearance of Much Phlegm, & Indolence—and the Girl, Sense and Gratitude, as well as Wit & Vivacity at will—and they proved a veryHappy and respectable Couple, without other aides than such as Moderate Affections, and reasonable Dictates, usually supply—but their Sensible Plan of Acting, was in a great measure ascribed to a very serious conversation he had with her the Day after Marriage.—After shewing her his House, his Gardens, making his Housekeeper explain to her the different Departments of Servants &c. &c. Economicks—He desired she would oblige Him with her Company in his Library, tête a tête, for a couple of Hours—the Girl was all Amazement—and well she might—for He had never been known to harangue for a Quarter of an hour together in his Life—but she submitted of course & you are to supposed them seated in his Study, each side of a Pembroke Table, if you will, his Hand extended over it to receive Hers—and He Declaiming Thus—“My Dear Lydia I observed your su[r]prize, and I wonder not at it, when I proposed a Conference with you—You must think it strange—that I, who never sought to engage your attention for more than ten minutes together before, should now solicit it for Hours,when I’ve a Prospect of engaging it as often as I choose—but my dear Girl—lend me your serious attention at present, & I flatter myself that I never shall be desirous of it again on the same subject—as I cannot think my Inclinations once known, that you will ever act in opposition to them—You are not to suppose Lydia, from my Character as to Indolence & Singularity, that I have not the same Discernment and in many Respects the same Passions as other men and you will find perhaps, under this Apparent Nonchalance one of the steadiest Tempers and most quick sighted observers—you ever met with in the most brilliant of your acquaintance—but the Truth is, my Dear, that I’m of a Very speculative if not Philosophic Humour—I have in my heart—a most thorough Contempt for Pageantry and Ceremony, in almost all it’s Forms—but I have never yet loved an human Being well enough to tell them so—I am satisfied with the rectitude of my own Heart, and desire no other Praises than what results from the Consciousness of Deserving all good Peoples,if the string of my Actions was once discover’d—but I speak not of this Peculiarity, as any Excellence in my Nature—it is perhaps the Contrary—as most Good Persons are taught to admire the Opinions & Practises of the Public, and they may be right in doing so—if either the one or the other are effectual in stimulating to good Examples—with me they do not operate in this way—I have no pleasure in any thing, however well appearing, if I cannot trace it to the source of good Moral Principles—I love the study of the human Kind above all sciences—and in order to accomplish this, I must have my own at perfect ease—this an Indifferent Spectator would imagine no difficult matter surrounded with affluence, bless’d with Health and equal Spirits as I am—but my Dear Girl—in spite of these Advantages—I have not tasted any Permanent Happiness—My Domesticks leave me, without intending it, I believe—My Recreations have pall’d, in spite of my Philosophy—and Serious Inclinations to continue them without satiety—for they have always been such, as my Reasonapproved—Friendships, I have had, but they have only been transient ones, owing to the want of congeniality in my associations [and] Feelings, which is requisite to gratify a taste like mine—the World mixed too much, in their Regards of the tenderest sort for me to expect to keep my Hold, if any Matter of Interest intervened, and therefore I have been content, to bear the reproach of fickleness (tho’ a Vice I abhor’d) by relaxing in my attentions, and by that means furnishing them with an excuse to break off a Commerce which had nothing better than Convenience or Love of Dissipation for its Basis.—Marriage I have ever thought, the union of all others, best calculated to promote the Happiness of a Heart like mine—but I despair’d I own to you—of meeting with an object capable of fulfilling her share of it’s Duties, Agreable to my sense of the matter—Address, I’d none—and my fortune I rather thought a snare to me, as I never made a secret of my being indifferent as to that article, if I could but secure the Woman of my choice—heraffections I mean Lydia—that is, that preference in them, which every man is entitled to expect, who marries a Woman of principle unattached to any other man, and while he preserves his right to them, by such a portion of kindness and Confidence as assures her, of the same Place in His—This my dear Girl, I have yet my Doubts of—as to you—Your Dissipated tho’ Mortifying Manner of Life—induces me to think, you may have seen the man you could have prefer’d to myself, if you had been at liberty to bestow your hand where you had chose. (I hope Lydia shed tears at this place) Your Embarrassments as to Situation—Your indifferent Prospects, naturally accounted for your wishing to attract any Man, whose Honorable Protection, could insure you a tolerable Establishment in Life—Fortune threw me in your way—I saw your Design and assisted you in it, as I flattered myself, that I distinguished in you a disposition to be grateful for any pecuniary Advantages I could bestow—this was all I expected, it was almost all I wished till I could have time &opportunities to convince you, that I deserved, all that a Woman so circumstanced has to give.—And now my dearest Girl, I will deal very ingenuously with you—I really like you at present, as much as many women would wish to be liked—but my affections are so much controul’d by my Reason—that I believe I could withdraw them without any Material Prejudice to my Peace if you disgusted me by Indifference in your Carriage towards myself, or the least species of Coquettry towards any other Man whatever—for I think myself entitled to Mild obligingness at all times, however singular my Humour, and I would as soon, my Wife gave her Person to another Man, as her little finger, with the Idea of a Momentary Preference to myself—start not Lydia—nor think yourself subject to a Jealous Husband—for such I neither am, or ever can be—but IamNice—so nice, that I could much sooner forgive your want of love for me, than your want of Delicacy, in any of the Punctilios, which are not only peculiar to the Feminine Character, but highlygraceful in it when properly maintain’d. My dear Girl—I mean to deal quite upon the Square with you, My Prudence will occasionally restrain your lively Powers—and those will constitute my Happiness, judiciously exerted—for nothing but yourself that I know of—has a chance of the Power, to make me animated or even visibly chearful—We shall be mut[u]ally assisting & obliged to each other—I wish to banish the Word Obedience from our Compact—and to substitute that ofWefor the letterI&Word You—I will never arrogate on the score of Masculine Prerogative—I am ashamed of those Men, who have recourse to it, when they have a sensible mild companion to deal with, & do not you my Lydia, ever mistake, your real Interest so much as to be induced to take advantages of the Easiness of my nature. You may, I tell you, you may, succeed in many Points by attempting it, for I cannot contend with those who are even Indifferent to me, but my Dear, you would by such means injure my opinion of your Generosity—& this would pave the way to various uneasiness’swith the Woman I loved—We must in that case part, for I would owe nothing, but to her Love, Gratitude, or kindness—the Tye of Duty without these—is to me, a mere cobweb—tell me your Thoughts, on every subject, as they arise my Lydia—& I will either conform to them, or satisfy your reason by giving the preference to my Own; our joint Stock of Wisdom is the Property of one or both as one or both as either may happen to have occasion for more than their immediate supplies—let us use it as such, my Lydia—and never think of valuing ourselves occasionally, more than each other, for this, or that advantage—when all our good Qualities ought to be in common to both, and so they must, if we mean to promote each others Happiness, on a principle of Love, Wisdom, or mere Policy for there’s no such Thing, in Fact, as a separate Interest in Marriage, between Persons of Reflection—or good Morals—they must each, occasionally, advance their whole Quota of Worth, in order to please or assist the other, if they wish to live Peaceably or be Respected—andthis every thinking Man & Woman must wish—My dearest Lydia, would you gain my soul, & reign for ever the Mistress of it, do not teaze me with Menial Adventures—never let me hear your voice rais’d or see a frown lowering on your Brow—these requests complied with on your Part—I will engage to second all your Wishes, while you seem desirous of promoting mine—and I doubt not but we may years hence be cited as Examples of Conjugal Felicity, when those whose Union commenced in Transport, have long, exhausted, all their stock of Tenderness—for you my dear, have Wit, Spirit, sense enough; and a Devotion to Elegant Cleanliness—I, prudence, tenderness, and easy Temper to please—and a real Inclination to love you better, than I now do, every Day of my Life—perfect this wish my Lydia—it is in your Power to do it—as I doubt your Capacity in Nothing which is congenial to your Will.”——Was not this a sensible Harangue my dear James? I swear to you, that to see a Plan of this sort seems a thousand times better calculated to promote Harmony in Life, than allthe Reserves, Distances, and Authorities, which men of noted Pride or Wisdom can have recourse to; for there is that, in the Mind of a Principled Woman, which makes her fond of unlimited confidences, it speaks to her affections, and I verily believe there never yet, was that good Character, who abused them; Men of sense, should never insinuate to a Wife, that they have not a very high opinion of her Generosity—as it is the first step, to a good Minds being careless and a degenerate One’s throwing off the Mask—for many a Woman has been complimented into good Behaviour, upon trying occasions when Temptations foible—and many a one, lost to a sense of greatness, from depriving her of the Rewards due to Worth, and by that means destroying the Principle of Self Complacency, which in Some Minds, must be encouraged to be durable—for such is our Machinery, my dear James, that we are all actuated by Praise, more or less, consequently more Mechanical in our Thoughts & Actions than Pride or Knowledge, will sometimes admit of from not being conscious perhaps of the necessity of thatstimulus in their own Case, which is absolutely requisite to some natures, to impel them to any thing of the Noble, and good Kind.—After telling you that Mr. & Mrs. Fenton, experienced the good effects of coming to an Éclaircissement, and having a real dependance on the Generosity & good sense of each other, it may be unnecessary to add perhaps, that they became the esteem, & admiration of their neighbourhood; still I tell you of it, because it’s pleasant to dwell on such subjects, & not to leave a doubt on the mind of those who contemplate them with satisfaction, as every judge of real merit must, from their own fund of Natural Benevolence—Mr. Fenton, from a Man distinguished for his Indifference and Taciturnity—became as remarkable for his Even Chearfulness, and social Humour—Lydia lost nothing of her Sprightly Talents, by making many of his Maxims, her own—and added to the reputation of being a most agreable Woman, that of being as respectable, as lively. A numerous offspring, together with the Habit of acting in Concert upon all occasions, has so rivited their affections, & Principles, thata description of their manners has rather the air of a romantic Fiction, than any thing which exists in real Life—consequently the truest reflection, and at the same time the bitterest satyr, which can be made on the present system of Wedlock is, that to think & act as they do, will be the ready means, of making a Couple pass for Romantic.—Sincerity, Constancy, Generosity, and tenderness, are rarely to be found. They are so much out of use, that People of Mode imagine them to be out of Nature. I borrow this Thought from a letter in Swifts Collection—it is, There applied to Friendship, I remember, and as the Passage struck me, I will endeavor to give you the whole of it, I quote from Memory. “We meet, with few Friends: the greatest part of those, who, pass for such, are properly speaking, nothing more than acquaintances; and no Wonder, since Tully’s Maxim is certainly true, that Friendship can subsist non nisi inter bonus [sic], at that age of Life, when there is balm in the Blood, and that Confidence in the Mind, which the innocency of our own heart inspires, and the Experience of other People’s destroys. Iwas apt to confound my Acquaintance & my friends together. I never doubted but I had a numerous Cohort of the Latter.—but the fire of Adversity has purged the mass of my Acquaintances, and the separation made, I discover on one side, a handful of friends; but on the other, a Legion of Enemies, at least of strangers.—Happily this fiery trial has had an effect on me, which makes me some amends. I have found less Resource in other People, and more in myself, than I expected.” Have you formed an Acquaintance with my dear Mrs. Stratton, James? I hope you have, because I think her Mind of that Cast, which must inevitably please you when once known—her reserve is imputed to be as a foible in this part of the world, by superficial observers—but to me, it speaks an Additional Charm in her Character—As I love those Dispositions, which do not unfold themselves to all alike, but reserve for a few, a distinguished Few! their Ingenuousness and pleasing Powers—Such Persons, never attract the Notice of the World in a great Measure, but they generally make the steadiest Friends and kindest support inevery serious relation of Life.—and this once known, We must feel a Superior degree of esteem for Them—As the very Indifference which displeases mere Acquaintance, is a tacit acknowledgement of their sincerity when they profess to like any Individual; and in fact, a very high Compliment to the Person so noticed; as We may observe, that Reserve and, Indifference immediately give Place, to Ingenuous Communications, and a desire to please, when once they profess to regard any body with real affection—I own to you, I greatly admire those Characters, who can hold general applause so cheap, as never to think of trying for it—a wariness to prevent Censure, every delicate mind must practise—but any thing farther from the World than mere Indifference or silence, seems not to be the aim, of these rightly formed Creatures, and truely, when one sees the Scandal, Malice, & Detraction, which Vivacity Address—and the Desire of pleasing, Subjects People of Brilliant Talents to—there’s nothing methinks very enviable, in their Powers—especially if they are not (as I’ve heard is the case) so well qualified to discharge the softer Engagements ofSociety, as the undisplaying Tempers of a sombre hue.—If you observe, throughout your whole acquaintance my dear James—I dare say you’ll find—that the most serious, & quiet natures, attach Husbands, Lovers, friends, & children to them much more strongly than the Gay Agreables do—and this might be easily accounted for.—I dare say too—that Minds of such a Cast are much more capable of any thing Great, and worthy of Record, than the Vivacious fair ones—for it is the Curse of these to fail in exciting esteem—tho’ they often Charm—and seldom fail to amuse—but such is the degeneracy of the Times, that a Woman must have deep Reflection indeed, who, unassisted by Excellent Advisers can rise superior to the Amiable Triflers Character—As Men of almost all Denominations prefer it to that of any other species—and no Wonder—for where Marriage is made subservient to a wretch’d plan’d system of Convenience, Men Doubtless, will often find their Home a seat of Irksomeness; and fly to any thing, or any body, who can divest them of Thinking—’tis then, that the agreable Trifler, feels herown Importance—and judges, that it ought to be, the summit of female Perfection, because it often pleases when Sense, Birth & Prudence, fail to attach or Amuse; not considering, poor Thing, that it’s Merit, is principally founded, on the Defects of the other Sex—for if Men were Wise, at all times they would always Act from Principle—consequently only be amused by the Trifling, and give their serious attachments to the seriously Deserving—but this can never be till Marriage becomes an affair of the Heart, as till then, Men never can be satisfied to ponder & reflect on the spring of their own actions with impartiality, that is if they have any remain of sensibility in them—for so true a reverence has every one for himself, when He comes clearly to appear before his Close Companion Conscience; that He had rather profess the Vilest Things of himself in Company, than hear his Character privately from his own mouth. So that we may from hence conclude, That the chief Interest of Ambition, Avarice, Corruption, and every sly, insinuating Vice, is to prevent this Intimacy, and familiarity of Discourse which is consequentupon close Retirement, and inward Recess.—and to avoid it—the Man, or Woman, of frailty, will ever seek Dissipation in all its forms, till that even becomes toilsome as the severest Manual Labour—I never had so high an Idea of the Recluse Character as I have at Present, nor so contemptible a one of the frivolous—as I cannot help thinking that the former must be conscious of his own superiority in every thing which regards the Heart, or He never could submit to live without those aids which society furnishes—and as to the latter, He could not be insensible enough, to make a toil of Diversion (the Wise intention of which was to unbend the Mind only) if He had that Credit with himself which enables a Man to question his own Heart, without any fear of its Reproofs on the score of Vice—Here’s—Morality for you my dear James—but I hope it will not displease you—as I cannot help thinking it confirms my own good Resolutions, when I thus, give forth—a voice to its Dictates either in writing or Discourse——I shall strenuously urge Mr. Draper to let me return to England next year—that is about January next at farthest—Ashe always promised—that I should be with my Girl, by the time she was twelve years old, whether He was desirous, or ready to quit India, by that time, or not—in October next, she will be eleven—& I hope—I hope! Mr. Draper will not forfeit his Word to me—his Prospects, as to the Broach Affair will be then settled—and his fortune is so easy, that He may without prejudice to it, allow me four or five hundred a year, I desire no more—my Residence of Choice, would be in some one of the Villages near Town, as I mean to have Eliza entirely with me—& must be near the Metropolis on account of the necessary Masters for her Instruction—otherwise I should have to fix at some distance from London—as I know, the Self Denial requisite to avoid Participation in Gay Scenes, is by no means a pleasing Sensation, tho’ a very necessary one, to Persons of greater taste than affluence—and I would at any time rather avoid Temptation, than be obliged to resist it (which I must do—if seated in the midst of it)—as I have no Idea that my Philosophy is of that Invulnerable sort, that may safely defy all outwardattacks, without the least risk of endangering it. The Parthian Discipline, to fight Flying is the properest Method of Defence a Woman can make when Danger or Temptations assail her Courage—but to guard against their approaches is still better Policy, as well as more Amiable—because it evinces Wisdom & Modesty too—both highly praiseworthy in the Female Character—and reflective of Light upon each other—when gracefully exerted—I am as sensible, as yourself, my dear, of the necessity there may be for my being in England before Betsey is much older—I can, and will speak plainer than you have done—as a proof of which I now tell you, that I do not think Mrs. Whitehills at all a proper Protection for Betsey—in the first Place, because she has never been a Parent herself—in the next, because Misfortunes in the Early part of her Life, when her Affections were warm, and Expectations high, have given, to a mind naturally active & Chearful—both an Indolent, & reserved Cast—the former disqualifies her, for attending to the Minutiæ in a Childs Education, and the latter for encouraging, thatspecies of Communicativeness, which is the Cement of Affection between a Child and it’s Monitress—I have another objection to Mrs. Whitehills Patronage—which may seem at first, to have an ungenerous sound—but I mean nothing illiteral by it—and that is, her narrow Circumstances——Betsey has a chance for living Elegantly, and I am afraid from the natural bent of her mind that if she is suddenly translated from one extreme of Life to another, she may be apt to forget her obligations to Mrs. Whitehall, and regulate her opinion of her, by her situation—this is but too natural, to Girls of lively Propensities, especially if they are taught to look forward to the luxuries, as to a real Good—and all Preceptors, & Preceptress’s teach this, more or less, for what else can be implied, by their servile Attention to Parents and Persons of Wealth—however Denominated, as to Character. A conduct of the above sort, in Betsey, to Mrs. Whitehill, would indeed distress me exceedingly; & well I know, it would to the Soul, mortify that sensible Woman—for she has all those finer Sensibilities, w’ch Affliction & Pecuniary Embarrassments,rather gives a sharper edge to, than blunts by the trial of perverse Accidents—and for this reason—Independent of my Wishes on her own Account, I do most seriously wish, that her situation in Life had been perfectly easy—Children, in general—have amazing Powers as to observation & memory—Betsey, I am confident, possesses these—& they may enable her to retain as to matters in which I had rather she was perfectly ignorant. Had Mrs. Whitehill been a Mother—had her fortune been affluent, and her tenderness of Heart a little more Conspicuous—I know not the Woman who could have been more capable of forming the Minds of Young People, for she has great Good Sense, Generosity of Temper, a Mind Naturally Chearful, & prone to make every thing it’s own with the assistance of very little Application, then she reads, writes, speakes, not only correctly but gracefully, these are all Important Advantages. I can & do feel the weight of them, & shall for ever think my self obliged for Her—unsolicited offer to take Charge of the Children—I should have loved her better perhaps, if I had thought it proceeded from a Principle ofAffection to myself rather than Generosity—but this is foolish to say—or think—as We certainly can rely more securely on those Qualities which are implanted in the breast by nature herself & confirmed by Choice & Habit, than on those partial Affections, which Caprice, Absence, Time, or Chance Eradicate.’Tis certain that I in my Life, could never be induced to Unbend my whole soul in the Presence of Mrs. Whitehill—there was a consent of Minds, a something wanting, which enables the playful sincere Heart, to disclose it’s follies, it’s Wishes, with the genuine warmth of kind Simplicity, and without the suspicion of being any way a sufferer, by the frank disclosure. Betsey’s Temper, partakes much of the nature of my own, & if her observation is of the same stamp—she will have her Reserves to Mrs. Whitehill, & this will inculcate an artifice which is at all times hateful, and more particularly so in the Girlish Character—which ought to be composed of frankness, Generosity, and all the mild Attributes, suitable to the Age of Innocence.—Oh my dear James! what an important Task is it to train a young mindproperly to all the Duties of Society! and yet how shamefully is it neglected by Guardians—Teachers, and even by Parents themselves! and for what is it too often Neglected? even for some sorry purpose of dirty interest—or more contemptible one, of Thoughtless Dissipation—the first ought ever to be subservient to our childrens Welfare—instead of taking place of it—as a primary Consideration, and the last can only amuse for a While, at best, and yet to pursue these Ideal Satisfactions—we too, too often, neglect a permanent Good—in leaving to the blind guidance of Chance, a study, which if properly cultivated, might be the source of all our Pleasures—when Age & Decency urges the Propriety of making way for Younger Actors in the busy Scenes of Life’s Stage.—I know not a more disgraceful Picture of human nature—than that of Old People frequenting the paths assigned to Youth—& folly—or a more delightful survey to the Intelligent Mind, than that of Age, retiring to the Sequester’d Valley, beloved by it’s Offspring, Honor’d by it’s Dependants—and Reverenced by All—But this can only, withreason be expected, when in Youth—We give up something to the Claims of our Children. OurTime, I must ever think of as their lawful Property—this once Devoted to them, & judiciously arranged for the Purpose of Solid Improvements—They must be a Blessing to us—if Nature has not forgot indeed or much erred, in the Execution of her part.—I do declare to you my friend, that when I am once settled in England—Betsey shall be as inseparable from me, as my Right Hand is from my left.—I am astonished at the Reasoning of those Parents, who can imagine that a Venal person will do justice to their Children for the sake of a Pecuniary Reward; when they themselves, betray an unwillingness to forming their Principles, and Manners by the resignation of Time, or the sacrifice of what’s call’d Diversions. I have no Idea, but a Girl must improve a thousand times more, under the Tutorage of a Prudent Mother, than from the Documents of the most sensible & accomplished Governess whatever.—A Boarding School, may be a very proper seminary for an Actress—as there she may learn to lispbefore a numerous audience—and to lose that Bashfulness so prejudicial to the Cares of Fame, in the way of Public Excellence—but for a Child, who is to aspire no higher, than to the Character of a private Gentle Woman, it is I think, the very worst Nursery she can possibly be fixed in—so thinking, do you not pity me James, when you connect the Idea of Betseys situation with this plain assurance? take into the account too, my Dear, that all my Prospects of Worldly Happiness are dependant on the Rectitude, Manners & Establishment of this beloved Child—Think of my being obliged to submit all these Important Concerns to Chance, and that for no better Reason, than to remain an useless Spectator in a detestable Country, where my Health is declining, my Mind tortured by the Sacrifice of my own just Wishes—to a most illiberal species of Reasoning, founded on Caprice—and then my Dear Woman, You will but do justice to my sorrow—if you think, and pronounce—that of all Beings the most worthy your Compassion at present is your unfortunate Friend—your almost, broken Hearted Eliza.——Iam indeed—Unhappy! I think, superlatively so!—but I will try to divest myself of this Notion,—as, with Nerves like Mine, it might accelerate a Fate, I wish to avoid, for the sake of my Dearer self—for Betsey, would never get such another Monitress—as I am Qualified to be to her—My Disappointments—real Afflictions, & Natural turn of Mind—all have added to a tenderness for her, which ever, I think, was fondly maternal—and encouraged me, to stake my last Chance for Happiness on her Head—May Heaven crown my pleased Hopes with Success, and I think I shall not repine at whatever else, it’s Providence imposes.—I am going to some Warm Springs of the same quality nearly, as the Bath Waters—a Bilious Complaint, obliges me to this Expedition—I wish it did not—for a change of scene here, is attended with great fatigue, as well as an immoderate Expence—owing to the necessity of our carrying, Tents, Equipage, and every Household Convenience along with us—I shall be absent only a Month—and yet my Expences in that time, in spite of economy, will amount to as great a sum, as would defray theCharges of a Voyage to England. Would to God! the money was to be so appropriated in preference to my Laving, and Commencing “Phthisical Nymph of the Fountain.”—but it will not be—and I must endeavor to rest satisfied, till next year—I sometimes think, my dear James—that our present Differences Here, may induce the Directors to send us a Governor from England, in preference to appointing any of the Gentlemen Here to succeed—in which Case, your Commodore I suppose has a Chance of succeeding to the Chair, if he chooses to Exert his Interest, to obtain it—I own to you, in that Case my dear, that my wishes for seeing you accompany Him are not very sanguine—the Climate—the Society—are dreadful Taxations, on the Mind as well as Body’s Health—and I wish you to preserve yours, serene, and Chearful, as long as you live, and to a good old age, without any of those Rubs of Disturbances—ill Health, & worse spirits usually Creates.—Your little Maiden too—how would you dispose of her? I like not your bringing her with you, nor yet the Idea of your seperating from her for yearstogether—James, I think, is rather attached to this Country, see, an Instance, of the force of Habit, in this—for absolutely, it is not, not otherwise to be justified on any one Principle of Sound Reasoning—or Agreable Caprice for there never was a greater Dearth, of every thing which could charm the Heart—please the Fancy, or speak to the Judgment, than what reigns in Bombay, nor Wit, Beauty, Sense, Merit, have We—nor yet Taste—Humour, Amusements—Social Converse—and as to Worth in it’s different Species; of Honor, Character—benevolence, Industry—and what is Emphatically meant, by Superior Abilities—We either are too ignorant to know the real Estimation of Them—or so far degenerate, as to laugh at their ascribed Powers, when any selfish Purpose can be gratified, by the Derision of Them—Such are the People I associate with, such must be your Fate, my dear Woman, if you visit this Country—Happy for you—that your Mind is formed, & has that natural Bias to Goodness, which cannot now be perverted, by the Maxims, & Examples of a wretched Community—I wish you my dearFriend, all the Happiness, you can possibly wish yourself, and therefore I never wish to see you in India.—Indeed you do me but justice in thinking that my Regard for your little Treasure must equal the tenderness you shew towards mine, for ’tis certain that I am just as sincere in wishing her Welfare, as I am in wishing that of Betseys—and I flatter myself, dear James, that these Young Plants of ours will not Emulate us more in anything else, than they will in the affection they bear to each other—for it would be a source of joy to me, to see them capable of a lively friendship, and each considering the other as a second self—for which purpose, I would endeavor to instill into the mind of Eliza, how very superior the pleasure of obliging is, to that of gratifying any Inclination which has self, only, or even principally, for it’s object.—as I’m confident such a mode of thinking must lead to the attainment of every social Virtue, and diffuse a Complacency throughout the whole manner which would please every Sensible Observer, and insure heartfelt peace to the Possesser of it—if any Acquisition in nature can effect so desired a Purpose. Icould wish my dear—when your little Maiden begins to handle the Pen, that a Correspondence might be commenced between her and Betsey, as an Intercourse of this kind between young People is often promotive of the most endearing offices, & might be made highly conducive to their reciprocal Improvement in various ways, as well as lead to Perfection in an Art, which certainly is a valuable accomplishment in Young Women—for nothing expands the Mind, and gives advantages to style, more, than the early Practise of familiar letter writing—for which Purpose, I would endeavor to make it agreable to them, by suffering them to carry it on without the least Restraint—as it is not to be imagined how quick the Progress of Improvement frequently is in such Cases—both our Girls, seem to have lively Talents—here’s a fine field for the Display of them—and their Ignorance, their Innocence rather, renders it impossible that they should be the means of Injuring each other—no matter if they spell incorrectly and scribble nothing but nonsense—their doing even this, will pave the way to their acquitting themselves better—andthere is to young as well as old, a joy in giving way to the dictates of fancy only, when they imagine that none superior to themselves will pass judgment on the Performance, and for this Reason my James—I would not attempt, or wish to make them think that I had any desire to view their Epistles.—but this my Friend, I submit entirely to you—What a letter have I wrote, and how I have wrote it, but no matter, if you can but read it, for it is too long to write over again—and indeed if it was not, I am not fond of the practise of copying—it looks as if we wrote for applause, or were afraid to entrust our friends with our first Thoughts, which certainly, are in general the best Picture of our Minds—for tho’ after Reflection, may enable us to improve the Drapery by heightening the Colouring, it’s a great Doubt with me if we ever improve the likeness by attempting to give grace to the Features, and quere whether we can be satisfied to embellish some parts of a Portrait, without endeavoring to do as much by the whole, when the Pencil is once in our hands, and the fancy of improving very strong upon us—therefore Ideem it more fair to give the first sketch, whether of the rude or elegant sort, when we mean to convey an Idea of Truth, to our Friends, or People of real Taste—For such will always make kinder allowances for an Artist, than He in Modesty could make for Himself. Adieu! my beloved Friend! I wish you Health, and a large Portion of everything that’s desirable—Remember me most kindly to your Husband. I will write to him by this opportunity if I have time—I now enclose you a Duplicate & Triplicate, of Bills I have sent you before for the use of the Sternes—by Capt. Taylor you would receive some Trifles from me. Adieu! Adieu! I ever am most sincerely Yours—with the tenderest affection.

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