_Kingston, Jamaica._
Clara, my dear friend, is at length arrived. I have held that truant
girl to my heart, and have forgotten whilst embracing her all the
reproaches I intended to make, and which I thought she deserved. I
cannot help loving her, though I approve not of all she does; but I
will blame her fate rather than herself, for who can behold her and
not believe that she is all goodness? who can witness the powers of
her mind and withhold their admiration? Whatever subject may engage
her attention, she seizes intuitively on what is true, and by a sort
of mental magic, arrives instantaneously at the point where, even
very good heads, only meet her after a tedious process of reasoning
and reflection. Her memory, surer than records, perpetuates every
occurrence. She accumulates knowledge while she laughs and plays:
she steals from her friends the fruits of their application, and thus
becoming possessed of their intellectual treasure, without the fatigue
of study, she surprises them with ingenious combinations of their own
materials, and with results of which they did not dream. Her heart
keeps a faithful account, not only of every word but of every look,
of every movement of her friends, prompted by kindness and affection,
and never is her society more delightful than in those moments of calm
and sublime meditation, when her genius surveys the past, or wanders
through a fanciful and novel arrangement of the future. Who that thus
knows Clara, and is sensible of her worth, can have known her husband,
and condemn her?
It is true, Clara is said to be a coquette, but have not ladies of
superior talents and attractions, at all times and in all countries
been subject to that censure? unless indeed theirs was the rare fortune
of becoming early in life attached to a man equal or superior to
themselves! Attachments between such people last through life, and
are always new. Love continues because love has existed; interests
create interests; parental are added to conjugal affections; with the
multiplicity of domestic objects the number of domestic joys increase.
In such a situation the heart is always occupied, and always full. For
those who live in it their home is the world; their feelings, their
powers, their talents are employed. They go into society as they take a
ramble; it affords transient amusement, but becomes not a habit. Their
thoughts, their wishes dwell at home, and they are good because they
are happy. But if on the contrary a woman is disappointed in the first
object of her affections, or if separated from him she loved, fate
connects her with an inferior being, to what can it lead? You might as
well expect to confine a sprightly boy, in all the vigour of health to
sedate inaction, as to prevent talents and beauty, thus circumstanced,
from courting admiration. A feeling heart seeks for corresponding
emotions; and when a woman, like Clara, can fascinate, intoxicate,
transport, and whilst unhappy is surrounded by seductive objects, she
will become entangled, and be borne away by the rapidity of her own
sensations, happy if she can stop short on the brink of destruction.
If Clara's husband had been in every respect worthy of her she would
have been one of the best and happiest of human beings, but her good
qualities were lost on him; and, though he might have made a very good
husband to a woman of ordinary capacity, to Clara he became a tyrant.
Sensible of the impossibility of her leaving him, he took it for
granted that she bestowed on another those sentiments he could not
hope to awaken himself. Yet Clara never deceived him. There is in her
character a proud frankness which renders her averse to, and unfit
for intrigue. When at the Cape, she was not dazzled by splendor,
though it courted her acceptance; nor could the ill-treatment of her
husband force her to seek a refuge from it in the arms of a lover who
had the means of protecting her. At St. Jago his conduct became more
insupportable, and when at length she fled from his house, alone and
friendless, she was unseduced by love, but impelled by a repugnance
for her husband which had reached its height, and could no longer be
resisted.
Delivered from the weight of this oppressive sentiment, she now enjoys
a delightful tranquillity, which even the thought of many approaching
struggles with difficulty and distress, cannot disturb.
In such a situation I am more than ever necessary to my sister; and,
perhaps, it is the consciousness of this, that has given birth to many
of the sentiments expressed in this letter.
We have learned that St. Louis sailed from the city of Santo Domingo to
France, from which I hope he may never return.
Clara and myself will leave this for Philadelphia, in the course of the
ensuing week. There I hope we shall meet you; and if I can only infuse
into your bosom those sentiments for my sister which glow so warmly in
my own, she will find in you a friend and a protector, and we may still
be happy.