"Albaro, November 10. 1822.
"The Chevalier persisted in declaring himself an ill-used
gentleman, and describing you as a kind of cold Calypso, who lead
astray people of an amatory disposition without giving them any
sort of compensation, contenting yourself, it seems, with only
making _one_ fool instead of two, which is the more approved method
of proceeding on such occasions. For my part, I think you are quite
right; and be assured from me that a woman (as society is
constituted in England) who gives any advantage to a man may expect
a lover, but will sooner or later find a tyrant; and this is not
the man's fault either, perhaps, but is the necessary and natural
result of the circumstances of society, which, in fact, tyrannise
over the man equally with the woman; that is to say, if either of
them have any feeling or honour.
"You can write to me at your leisure and inclination. I have always
laid it down as a maxim, and found it justified by experience, that
a man and a woman make far better friendships than can exist
between two of the same sex; but _these_ with this condition, that
they never have made, or are to make, love with each other. Lovers
may, and, indeed, generally _are_ enemies, but they never can be
friends; because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a
something of self in all their speculations.
"Indeed, I rather look upon love altogether as a sort of hostile
transaction, very necessary to make or to break matches, and keep
the world going, but by no means a sinecure to the parties
concerned.
"Now, as my love perils are, I believe, pretty well over, and
yours, by all accounts, are never to begin, we shall be the best
friends imaginable, as far as both are concerned, and with this
advantage, that we may both fall to loving right and left through
all our acquaintance, without either sullenness or sorrow from that
amiable passion which are its inseparable attendants.
"Believe me," &c.