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 M^{rs}. & 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 reflections as 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
M^r. Draper, to let me return to England; tho’ He must be sensible, that
both 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 M^r. 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 informing _you_—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 that Great, 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 such _disunion_
either 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 pretend not 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
be met 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 never affix 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,
Fancy lessened; 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 I have; 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 help thinking
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—M^{rs}. Montague’s Pen, 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 us are 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 considering _Morals_, next to religion, as the most
essential of all Things to their Happiness in both Worlds—poor Things!
the _Word_ is 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 seem
guilty 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 excites to 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 M^{rs}. 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, M^{rs}. 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.”—M^{rs}.
Taswell, I hope is 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. M^{rs}. 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—Cap^t. Taylor, will tell you all you
wish to know relative to them—the M^r. Gambier you mentioned to me, at
your Father’s request my dear, went Home Cap^t. 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. M^r. Horsley too—another Friend of mine, I have desired
M^r. 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, added to 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, than He 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
charm _you_—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,—and yet 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 Sternes_ by this ship, as none
but Company’s servants are allowed Bills on the Company, on their own
Account.—M^r. 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 Cap^t. 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 Expectations
from 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
M^{rs}. 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 29^{th}. 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 M^{rs}. 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.—M^r. 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 M^{rs}. 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 M^{rs}. 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 M^{rs}. 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 Violence of 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 M^{rs}. Sterne had been
misrepresented to me, this would have accounted for my silence on 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 M^{rs}. Sterne’s
pique towards me from that, (as it proved) unfortunate letter—not on any
one principle of Goodness, my dear, 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 Proposal which 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 the _Plan_, in preference to
seeking those Minute Blemishes, from w’ch the finest Models are not
wholly exempt—and if all is fair, and well proportioned _There_, 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 every
occasion, 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 M^{rs}. & 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—prefaced the 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 M^{rs}. Sterne, in the Crisis you
know of, would have been just as _ill-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 just nothing 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; and different 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 give
_All_. 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 or Woman, 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—and justified 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 no _room_ for other Objects—Esteem, Complacency, Generosity,
Humanity & Civility—are qualities the World has a right to—these, I can
bestow occasionally; 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
the _World_ calls _friends_, 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 M^{rs}.
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 two Hours 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 the _Pathos_ I 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 a thousand 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 I might 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 of _their_ privileges is derived, from there being
_Their_ privileges 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