To Colonel Rivers.
Oct. 28.
The story you have told me has equally shocked and astonished me: my
sweet Bell has dropped a pitying tear on poor Sophia's grave.
Thank heaven! we meet with few minds like that of Sir Charles
Verville; such a degree of savage insensibility is unnatural.
The human heart is created weak, not wicked: avid of pleasure and of
gain; but with a mixture of benevolence which prevents our seeking
either to the destruction of others.
Nothing can be more false than that we are naturally inclined to
evil: we are indeed naturally inclined to gratify the selfish passions
of every kind; but those passions are not evil in themselves, they only
become so from excess.
The malevolent passions are not inherent in our nature. They are
only to be acquired by degrees, and generally are born from chagrin and
disappointment; a wicked character is a depraved one.
What must this unhappy girl have suffered! no misery can equal the
struggles of a virtuous mind wishing to act in a manner becoming its
own dignity, yet carried by passions to do otherwise.
One o'clock.
I have been at Sir William Verville's, who is at Bath; I will write,
and inclose the letter to him this evening; you shall have his answer
the moment I receive it.
We are going to dine at Richmond with Lord H----.
Adieu! my dear Rivers; Bell complains you have never answered her
letter: I own, I thought you a man of more gallantry than to neglect a
lady.
Adieu!
Your faithful
J. Fitzgerald.