As I have nothing more at heart than to convince you I am incapable of
forgetting, or neglecting the friendship I made at college, now begin
that correspondence by letters, which you and I agreed, at parting, to
cultivate. I begin it sooner than I intended, that you may have it in
your power to refute any idle reports which may be circulated to my
prejudice at Oxford, touching a foolish quarrel, in which I have been
involved on account of my sister, who had been some time settled here
in a boarding-school. When I came hither with my uncle and aunt (who
are our guardians) to fetch her away, I found her a fine tall girl, of
seventeen, with an agreeable person; but remarkably simple, and quite
ignorant of the world. This disposition, and want of experience, had
exposed her to the addresses of a person--I know not what to call
him, who had seen her at a play; and, with a confidence and dexterity
peculiar to himself, found means to be recommended to her acquaintance.
It was by the greatest accident I intercepted one of his letters; as
it was my duty to stifle this correspondence in its birth, I made it my
business to find him out, and tell him very freely my sentiments of
the matter. The spark did not like the stile I used, and behaved with
abundance of mettle. Though his rank in life (which, by the bye, I am
ashamed to declare) did not entitle him to much deference; yet as his
behaviour was remarkably spirited, I admitted him to the privilege of
a gentleman, and something might have happened, had not we been
prevented.--In short, the business took air, I know not how, and made
abundance of noise--recourse was had to justice--I was obliged to give
my word and honour, &c. and to-morrow morning we set out for Bristol
Wells, where I expect to hear from you by the return of the post.--I
have got into a family of originals, whom I may one day attempt to
describe for your amusement. My aunt, Mrs Tabitha Bramble, is a maiden
of forty-five, exceedingly starched, vain, and ridiculous.--My uncle is
an odd kind of humorist, always on the fret, and so unpleasant in his
manner, that rather than be obliged to keep him company, I’d resign all
claim to the inheritance of his estate. Indeed his being tortured by the
gout may have soured his temper, and, perhaps, I may like him better on
further acquaintance; certain it is, all his servants and neighbours in
the country are fond of him, even to a degree of enthusiasm, the reason
of which I cannot as yet comprehend. Remember me to Griffy Price, Gwyn,
Mansel, Basset, and all the rest of my old Cambrian companions.--Salute
the bedmaker in my name--give my service to the cook, and pray take care
of poor Ponto, for the sake of his old master, who is, and ever will be,
Dear Phillips, Your affectionate friend, and humble servant, JER.
MELFORD GLOUCESTER, April 2.
To Mrs JERMYN at her house in Gloucester.