To Miss Rivers, Clarges Street.
Quebec, Feb. 5.
I have but a moment, my Lucy, to tell you, my divine Emily has broke
with her lover, who this morning took an eternal leave of her, and set
out for Montreal in his way to New York, whence he proposes to embark
for England.
My sensations on this occasion are not to be described: I admire
that amiable delicacy which has influenced her to give up every
advantage of rank and fortune which could tempt the heart of woman,
rather than unite herself to a man for whom she felt the least degree
of indifference; and this, without regarding the censures of her
family, or of the world, by whom, what they will call her imprudence,
will never be forgiven: a woman who is capable of acting so nobly, is
worthy of being beloved, of being adored, by every man who has a soul
to distinguish her perfections.
If I was a vain man, I might perhaps fancy her regard for me had
some share in determining her conduct, but I am convinced of the
contrary; 'tis the native delicacy of her soul alone, incapable of
forming an union in which the heart has no share, which, independent of
any other consideration, has been the cause of a resolution so worthy
of herself.
That she has the tenderest affection for me, I cannot doubt one
moment; her attention is too flattering to be unobserved; but 'tis that
kind of affection in which the mind alone is concerned. I never gave
her the most distant hint that I loved her: in her situation, it would
have been even an outrage to have done so. She knows the narrowness of
my circumstances, and how near impossible it is for me to marry; she
therefore could not have an idea--no, my dear girl, 'tis not to love,
but to true delicacy, that she has sacrificed avarice and ambition; and
she is a thousand times the more estimable from this circumstance.