well—and if her Destiny subjects her to a Worthy Partner in Life, He &
his, especially with the Addition of a female Friend, offer scope
enough, for the Exertion of all her Talents & good Propensities, be they
ever so numerous, and endearing—And it is a Maxim with me, from which I
believe, I never shall depart—that where a Married Woman, evinces a
desire to please the other Sex—& professes attachments to many, or more
than one Individual of her own—that she has, either been unfortunate in
her Choice—or has not those Qualities, which could enable her to fulfill
the great Duties, of Love & Friendship fitly & Handsomely.”—How like
you, the Sentiments of M^{rs}. Martaigne my dear James—? Whether it was
that her Person & Manner, gave Advantages to Them, or that they really
made a Strong Impression on me from the Propriety of Them, I know not;
but in my Life, I never felt so strong a Disposition to believe a Woman.
She often told me, that she was unworthy the Love of such a heart as
mine, because she could not return it—Respect for her Memory & frequent
recollections of her Various Excellencies, is now all that remains with
me relative to the Lovely Janatone; for she died three years ago—after
surviving her Husband about a week and her Friend a twelvemonth—What had
such a Woman to do in life after the survival of her best affections?
Unless indeed as an Example to all others, how they should grieve upon
such Disastrous Circumstances——knowing her, as I did, I was not sorry to
hear of her Releasement so soon after the Death of Martaigne—Charming,
Happy Couple! I have enthusiasm enough to wish to undertake a Journey
into Italy, for the pleasure of Weeping over their Tomb Stone—and think
the Sad Luxury, would Administer, more to my Happiness; than half the
Pursuits, which the World styles Pleasant—I never shall contemplate,
their Like again—Sense, Wit, Literature, All the Manly Accomplishments &
Graces, were his!—Beauty, Softness, and every feminine Virtue
Hers!—Their Story was Romantic—their Life Pleasant, and their Deaths I
doubt not most Happy!—You may have heard me speak of them, before—but
never with so much Explicitness—I had my reasons for being reserved on
the subject—They were in England when I left it—but quite Incognito—M^r.
Sterne Introduced me to their Notice—the most Agreable Service, He ever
did me—for till I saw Madame de Martaigne—I never saw the Character, who
came up to my Ideas of Female Beauty & Worth—till I knew her Husband—I
never conceived it possible for a Man to please a whole Life—without the
least Apprehension of Indifference or Satiety! Excuse this Elogium in
their Praise to you my dear James, tho’ you knew them not—You would have
loved, as much as I admired Them—and joined your Tears with mine, for
the Loss of Persons so Amiably distinguished—this subject has such hold
of me, that I cannot readily quit it—and therefore I’ll indulge the
Penserozo Humours, by telling you a couple of little anecdotes, as such
matters often give a better Insight into Character, than all the great
Outlines—Upon reading Lord Lyttletons Monody, on the Death of his
Lucy—she used to wish that Martaigne had wrote, and that she had been
the subject—declaring, that to be so lamented—she would consent to dye,
and that with Pleasure—Westminster Abbey, was her favorite Scene of
Amusement—Contemplation rather—on account of a Monument there inscribed
to the Memory of a M^{rs}. Nightingale, you may have noticed it, as it
is a very Singular one, and well Executed—Death is stalking out of a
Cavern—Aims his Dart at a Woman—and her Husband Endeavors to repel the
Stroke, with an Anxiety and Terror in his Countenance, more Easy to
conceive than describe—M^{rs}. M—— never passed the Abbey _if alone_,
but she called to look at this Monument—often went there, from a very
distant part of the Town, on no other Errand—and never saw it I believe,
but it cost her more Tears, than the deepest wrote Tragedy would have
done. She used to say—that Octavia was the first of all female
Characters in Ancient History—and that Marc Anthony deserved to lose the
World, for his insensibility to the Virtues of such a wife, rather than
for attaching himself to a Cleopatra—Prior of all our English Poets, was
her Favorite—and his Nut brown Maid, her Theme of Admiration whenever it
was named—Solomons Egyptian, was a grand Favorite with her—especially
when she returned the Proffer’d Wreath—afterwards, indeed, the Girl
talked too much—but altogether, she behaved nobly—now poor Afra, _I_
think, was not inferior to her—and deserved a better fate than she met
with—read the second book of Priors Solomon my dear, if it is not
familiar to you, in order that you may form a judgment of her taste,
from the above specimen of it—You will find it in the Second Volume of
his Works—but I’ll give you no more of her Criticisms—for if I was to
recollect the whole of them, I should fill a Volume, and the above are
sufficient, to give you an Idea of her sensibility and Taste—I know not
how other People might be affected by these Traits in a Character—but I
know, I cannot think of them, without an Emotion which is pleasing to
me, because it flatters me with the notion of some worth, as I cannot
foresee other benefit from it, than what arises from the consciousness
of a tender sensibility—and that is in Fact—all, in all—tho’ the World
is too often pleased to Judge otherwise. I thank you my dear, and with
all my Heart for the Explicitness you have used as to Betsey’s[52]
situation—she is now I hope at M^{rs}. Terry’s—if you remember my Dear,
you recommended this school to me when I was in England—and a
twelvemonth ago, I desired M^{rs}. Whitehill[53] to remove her from
Newington to Kensington—and I shall insist on the Circumstance of her
sleeping in an Airy Room, unincumber’d with scholars, tho’ the Price of
her Schooling should be greatly rais’d by it—as to having her a Parlour
Boarder—I know not what to say My James—as I cannot think more highly of
the tall Girls so distinguished than I do of the lesser Misses, en
Groupe—in General those Girls are horribly frivolous, or Artful; and I
would rather My Darling retained the simplicity of a Child, by
associating with those of her own Age only, than acquired any of the
knowledge, which Parlour Boarder Maxims too frequently inculcates—for
Betsey, if I mistake not, has much observation for her Years, and would
soon from the liveliness of her apprehension become a Proficient in all
those Flirtations & Flippancies so commonly found in Women Girls—I
think, my dear, I cannot consent to her being a Parlour Boarder; the
increase of Expence would weigh nothing with me, If I thought it would
be for her advantage, but as I do not it certainly has some weight in
the Scale of Objection—I shall not only write to M^{rs}. Whitehill about
the Chamber arrangement, but to M^{rs}. Terry, enclosing it to M^{rs}.
Whitehill, and desiring her to deliver it or not as she thinks it will
add force to her Directions.—I detest Boarding Schools, my James—I know,
from having experienced in my own Case, how little of the Useful is to
be acquired there & I am truely sensible of the risque a Child runs, of
being ruined in Constitution, & forever Corrupted in her Morals in those
Seminaries, for in order to secure both the one and the other, every
Child it associates with, ought to be of as Amiable Propensities as
itself—and can this be expected when there are fifty Children, all
descended from different Parents, no one of which may be like the other,
in either affections humour or Blood? And who of feeling can be
satisfied to trust to Chance for that which is to constitute the Honor &
Welfare, or disgrace & misery of a beloved Child? for ’tis Certain, that
the Principles inculcated in Youth, and confirmed by Habit, more or less
influence all our succeeding Actions—& creates the Portion of praise, or
blame which fix’s our Character in Life.—I have thought often, and very
much on this matter, and the more I ponder it, the more I am convinced
in my first particularly for an Home Education—and this is one of my
grand Inducements for pining after a reunion to my Child, for I do think
my James, that I am better qualified to be her Instructress than any
other human Being—and this, because I am her Mother, and as such
infinitely more Interested in her Welfare than any Friend, however
cordial can be, for, on her Establishment in Life, do I think to found
my own Prospects of a Mild quiet Evening, after a very boistrous Day—as
such it must be, if my Autumn, partakes of my Spring, & Summers Nature—&
I have no reason to expect otherwise—Miracles having long since ceased
to Operate—Consequently, Policy, as well as Maternal Affection induces
me to wish the Cultivation of this Plant under my own Eye, as so much,
so very much depends on the flourishing of it—for I think James, if this
poor Girl, was to prove unhappy, or worthless, that it would weigh me
down much sooner than Loads of Accumulated Affliction reserved for
myself alone—or Independed [_sic_] of her fate—for with that, is united
the future Chart of mine—if she is deserving & Amiable, I cannot be
wholly miserable—if the reverse—which, Heaven forbid! Not all the
Blessings in Life—can be superior—to[o] Tasteless—to me—for my Ideas of
Happiness are so Interwoven with those of her good Destiny, that in
Fact, they are one & the same—and nothing more variable, than a
Distinction in Terms—this known to M^r. Draper—and most assuredly felt
by me with all the Agonies of Doubt and longing Expectation; I do & must
wonder—that He refuses the request so often made, that of my going Home
& fixing this Object under my own Protection—for Independent of my
Health—which really is Very precarious—I live in a manner, so utterly
irreconciliable to my own good opinion in the way of Delicacy and in the
Public’s favorable Eye—that I seriously should wish to leave India, if I
had no other motive for it than wishing to change the scene—but when I
take into consideration, Betseys Welfare, (w^{ch}. I’m vain enough to
think is suffering by my absence from her, tho’ I’ve a high opinion of
M^{rs}. Whitehill altogether)—my present situation—M^(r). Drapers
extreme Indifference about me—what I may lose as to my Childs
Improvements by not visiting England—and the little use there can be to
any Person my continuing Here—I must & do think I am very hardly dealt
with—as it can only arise from a notion very Injurious to my
Principles—and as such, I can and do feel the Indignity, with all the
bitterness of a wounded Spirit—for I have not deserved to be thought ill
of—nor am I treated, as if I was—when there’s any occasion for the
Exertions of my Epistolary talents, or Address—I only say this to you
James—what my Thoughts are upon such occasions I will not say, tho’ I am
confident that no Husband acts the Politic, any more than the Generous
part by a Woman—when He at times can descend to solicit her aid—and at
others, use her with unmanly violence, lest a notion of her own
superiority should induce her, to contemn his Authority—Contemptible
Reasoning! I do my James detest those Maxims of Rule, which are founded
on Sex alone—and can as heartily despise the Man who has recourse to
Them, because He may, from the Accidental Circumstance of his Gender
alone.—In Marriage, as, the most serious of all social Compacts—all
people ought I think to determine on living well together, whether
seduced into it by Love, or the Prospect of Convenience—at least, I’m
moved to Wonder when sensible Individuals don’t plan ingenuously & act
conformably to it, in every Thing which regards their mutual Interest,
for as to separate there’s no such Thing between People of Morals &
good Judgment, when they are once fated to pass their lives
together.—Children—their mutual Interest in having a Home Comfortable,
Affectionate, Orderly, a mind at Ease, and Respect abroad—are so many
pleasing Links which depend entirely on their own Chain of good
Conduct—and these must rivet those propensities to well doing—w’ch the
sensible Practise, when Prudence alone views the reverse of such Picture
in a distressful Light—I yesterday heard a story of a married pair,
which pleased me greatly, from the sensible singularity of it—tho’ I
avoided making any comments at the time—A Gentleman in the North of very
large fortune—and indolent turn of mind, was extremely desirous of
marrying a Woman of such sprightly talents, and good Disposition as
might rouse his mind from it’s usual state of Inactivity, and at the
same time, Induce her to be grateful for his preference, and never think
of taking advantage of his Supine Humour—this you’ll say, might be
difficult to accomplish, however as he was perfectly Indifferent as to
Money Matters—Very Young & rather Handsome—Many Necessitous Girls
endeavor’d to Captivate His Notice—but all in Vain—till a Very smart
spirited one, in the Person of a Toad Eater threw out a Bait for Him at
a Water drinking Place. He was attracted by her appearance, and had
singularity enough to admire her courage, in thinking of a Man worth
three thousand a year. They married, and the generality of People
Prophecied that Misery would be the Portion of each, as Interest on one
side, and Caprice on the other was only supposed to have cemented their
union—but the man had great good Judgment, as well as generosity, under
the appearance of Much Phlegm, & Indolence—and the Girl, Sense and
Gratitude, as well as Wit & Vivacity at will—and they proved a very
Happy and respectable Couple, without other aides than such as Moderate
Affections, and reasonable Dictates, usually supply—but their Sensible
Plan of Acting, was in a great measure ascribed to a very serious
conversation he had with her the Day after Marriage.—After shewing her
his House, his Gardens, making his Housekeeper explain to her the
different Departments of Servants &c. &c. Economicks—He desired she
would oblige Him with her Company in his Library, tête a tête, for a
couple of Hours—the Girl was all Amazement—and well she might—for He had
never been known to harangue for a Quarter of an hour together in his
Life—but she submitted of course & you are to supposed them seated in
his Study, each side of a Pembroke Table, if you will, his Hand extended
over it to receive Hers—and He Declaiming Thus—“My Dear Lydia I observed
your su[r]prize, and I wonder not at it, when I proposed a Conference
with you—You must think it strange—that I, who never sought to engage
your attention for more than ten minutes together before, should now
solicit it for Hours, when I’ve a Prospect of engaging it as often as I
choose—but my dear Girl—lend me your serious attention at present, & I
flatter myself that I never shall be desirous of it again on the same
subject—as I cannot think my Inclinations once known, that you will ever
act in opposition to them—You are not to suppose Lydia, from my
Character as to Indolence & Singularity, that I have not the same
Discernment and in many Respects the same Passions as other men and you
will find perhaps, under this Apparent Nonchalance one of the steadiest
Tempers and most quick sighted observers—you ever met with in the most
brilliant of your acquaintance—but the Truth is, my Dear, that I’m of a
Very speculative if not Philosophic Humour—I have in my heart—a most
thorough Contempt for Pageantry and Ceremony, in almost all it’s
Forms—but I have never yet loved an human Being well enough to tell them
so—I am satisfied with the rectitude of my own Heart, and desire no
other Praises than what results from the Consciousness of Deserving all
good Peoples, if the string of my Actions was once discover’d—but I
speak not of this Peculiarity, as any Excellence in my Nature—it is
perhaps the Contrary—as most Good Persons are taught to admire the
Opinions & Practises of the Public, and they may be right in doing so—if
either the one or the other are effectual in stimulating to good
Examples—with me they do not operate in this way—I have no pleasure in
any thing, however well appearing, if I cannot trace it to the source of
good Moral Principles—I love the study of the human Kind above all
sciences—and in order to accomplish this, I must have my own at perfect
ease—this an Indifferent Spectator would imagine no difficult matter
surrounded with affluence, bless’d with Health and equal Spirits as I
am—but my Dear Girl—in spite of these Advantages—I have not tasted any
Permanent Happiness—My Domesticks leave me, without intending it, I
believe—My Recreations have pall’d, in spite of my Philosophy—and
Serious Inclinations to continue them without satiety—for they have
always been such, as my Reason approved—Friendships, I have had, but
they have only been transient ones, owing to the want of congeniality in
my associations [and] Feelings, which is requisite to gratify a taste
like mine—the World mixed too much, in their Regards of the tenderest
sort for me to expect to keep my Hold, if any Matter of Interest
intervened, and therefore I have been content, to bear the reproach of
fickleness (tho’ a Vice I abhor’d) by relaxing in my attentions, and by
that means furnishing them with an excuse to break off a Commerce which
had nothing better than Convenience or Love of Dissipation for its
Basis.—Marriage I have ever thought, the union of all others, best
calculated to promote the Happiness of a Heart like mine—but I despair’d
I own to you—of meeting with an object capable of fulfilling her share
of it’s Duties, Agreable to my sense of the matter—Address, I’d none—and
my fortune I rather thought a snare to me, as I never made a secret of
my being indifferent as to that article, if I could but secure the Woman
of my choice—her affections I mean Lydia—that is, that preference in
them, which every man is entitled to expect, who marries a Woman of
principle unattached to any other man, and while he preserves his right
to them, by such a portion of kindness and Confidence as assures her, of
the same Place in His—This my dear Girl, I have yet my Doubts of—as to
you—Your Dissipated tho’ Mortifying Manner of Life—induces me to think,
you may have seen the man you could have prefer’d to myself, if you had
been at liberty to bestow your hand where you had chose. (I hope Lydia
shed tears at this place) Your Embarrassments as to Situation—Your
indifferent Prospects, naturally accounted for your wishing to attract
any Man, whose Honorable Protection, could insure you a tolerable
Establishment in Life—Fortune threw me in your way—I saw your Design and
assisted you in it, as I flattered myself, that I distinguished in you a
disposition to be grateful for any pecuniary Advantages I could
bestow—this was all I expected, it was almost all I wished till I could
have time & opportunities to convince you, that I deserved, all that a
Woman so circumstanced has to give.—And now my dearest Girl, I will deal
very ingenuously with you—I really like you at present, as much as many
women would wish to be liked—but my affections are so much controul’d by
my Reason—that I believe I could withdraw them without any Material
Prejudice to my Peace if you disgusted me by Indifference in your
Carriage towards myself, or the least species of Coquettry towards any
other Man whatever—for I think myself entitled to Mild obligingness at
all times, however singular my Humour, and I would as soon, my Wife gave
her Person to another Man, as her little finger, with the Idea of a
Momentary Preference to myself—start not Lydia—nor think yourself
subject to a Jealous Husband—for such I neither am, or ever can be—but I
_am_ Nice—so nice, that I could much sooner forgive your want of love
for me, than your want of Delicacy, in any of the Punctilios, which are
not only peculiar to the Feminine Character, but highly graceful in it
when properly maintain’d. My dear Girl—I mean to deal quite upon the
Square with you, My Prudence will occasionally restrain your lively
Powers—and those will constitute my Happiness, judiciously exerted—for
nothing but yourself that I know of—has a chance of the Power, to make
me animated or even visibly chearful—We shall be mut[u]ally assisting &
obliged to each other—I wish to banish the Word Obedience from our
Compact—and to substitute that of _We_ for the letter _I_ & _Word You_—I
will never arrogate on the score of Masculine Prerogative—I am ashamed
of those Men, who have recourse to it, when they have a sensible mild
companion to deal with, & do not you my Lydia, ever mistake, your real
Interest so much as to be induced to take advantages of the Easiness of
my nature. You may, I tell you, you may, succeed in many Points by
attempting it, for I cannot contend with those who are even Indifferent
to me, but my Dear, you would by such means injure my opinion of your
Generosity—& this would pave the way to various uneasiness’s with the
Woman I loved—We must in that case part, for I would owe nothing, but to
her Love, Gratitude, or kindness—the Tye of Duty without these—is to me,
a mere cobweb—tell me your Thoughts, on every subject, as they arise my
Lydia—& I will either conform to them, or satisfy your reason by giving
the preference to my Own; our joint Stock of Wisdom is the Property of
one or both as one or both as either may happen to have occasion for
more than their immediate supplies—let us use it as such, my Lydia—and
never think of valuing ourselves occasionally, more than each other, for
this, or that advantage—when all our good Qualities ought to be in
common to both, and so they must, if we mean to promote each others
Happiness, on a principle of Love, Wisdom, or mere Policy for there’s no
such Thing, in Fact, as a separate Interest in Marriage, between Persons
of Reflection—or good Morals—they must each, occasionally, advance their
whole Quota of Worth, in order to please or assist the other, if they
wish to live Peaceably or be Respected—and this every thinking Man &
Woman must wish—My dearest Lydia, would you gain my soul, & reign for
ever the Mistress of it, do not teaze me with Menial Adventures—never
let me hear your voice rais’d or see a frown lowering on your Brow—these
requests complied with on your Part—I will engage to second all your
Wishes, while you seem desirous of promoting mine—and I doubt not but we
may years hence be cited as Examples of Conjugal Felicity, when those
whose Union commenced in Transport, have long, exhausted, all their
stock of Tenderness—for you my dear, have Wit, Spirit, sense enough; and
a Devotion to Elegant Cleanliness—I, prudence, tenderness, and easy
Temper to please—and a real Inclination to love you better, than I now
do, every Day of my Life—perfect this wish my Lydia—it is in your Power
to do it—as I doubt your Capacity in Nothing which is congenial to your
Will.”——Was not this a sensible Harangue my dear James? I swear to you,
that to see a Plan of this sort seems a thousand times better calculated
to promote Harmony in Life, than all the Reserves, Distances, and
Authorities, which men of noted Pride or Wisdom can have recourse to;
for there is that, in the Mind of a Principled Woman, which makes her
fond of unlimited confidences, it speaks to her affections, and I verily
believe there never yet, was that good Character, who abused them; Men
of sense, should never insinuate to a Wife, that they have not a very
high opinion of her Generosity—as it is the first step, to a good Minds
being careless and a degenerate One’s throwing off the Mask—for many a
Woman has been complimented into good Behaviour, upon trying occasions
when Temptations foible—and many a one, lost to a sense of greatness,
from depriving her of the Rewards due to Worth, and by that means
destroying the Principle of Self Complacency, which in Some Minds, must
be encouraged to be durable—for such is our Machinery, my dear James,
that we are all actuated by Praise, more or less, consequently more
Mechanical in our Thoughts & Actions than Pride or Knowledge, will
sometimes admit of from not being conscious perhaps of the necessity of
that stimulus in their own Case, which is absolutely requisite to some