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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:41 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:41 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1212-0.txt b/1212-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d77d4d --- /dev/null +++ b/1212-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3716 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 *** +LOVE & FREINDSHIP +AND +OTHER EARLY WORKS + +A Collection of Juvenile Writings + +By Jane Austen + + +CONTENTS + + LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA + LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL + LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE + LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + LETTER the 9th From the same to the same + LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation + LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation. + + AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + LESLEY CASTLE + LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. + LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL + LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE + LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL + LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + To Miss COOPER + LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + + THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + + THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + + A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong + A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— + + A TALE. + + + + +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + + +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER +OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR. + + +“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.” + + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From ISABEL to LAURA + + +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my +Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your +Life, have you said “No, my freind never will I comply with your +request till I may be no longer in Danger of again experiencing such +dreadful ones.” + +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may +ever be said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of +disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, +surely it must be at such a time of Life. + +Isabel + + + + +LETTER 2nd +LAURA to ISABEL + + +Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already +experienced, yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I +will gratify the curiosity of your daughter; and may the fortitude with +which I have suffered the many afflictions of my past Life, prove to +her a useful lesson for the support of those which may befall her in +her own. + +Laura + + + + +LETTER 3rd +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited +me to give you. + +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother +was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I +was born in Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. + +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to +my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most +romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably +softened and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I +was once beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were +the least of my Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my +sex, I was Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always +exceeded my instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my +age, and I had shortly surpassed my Masters. + +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. + +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, +my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my +only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ +indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they +ever did, yet now I never feel for those of an other. My +accomplishments too, begin to fade—I can neither sing so well nor Dance +so gracefully as I once did—and I have entirely forgot the _Minuet Dela +Cour_. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 4th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She +may probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in +indigent Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical +motives. There it was our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then +one and twenty. Tho’ pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between +ourselves) she never possessed the hundredth part of my Beauty or +Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at +one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in +Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. + +“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities +and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the +unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.” + +“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be +exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the +Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of +Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an +humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske.” + +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble +Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 5th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were +arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden +greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the outward door +of our rustic Cot. + +My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It sounds like a +loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) “it does indeed.” (cried +I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it certainly does appear to +proceed from some uncommon violence exerted against our unoffending +door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help thinking it must be somebody +who knocks for admittance.” + +“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine +on what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone _does_ rap at the +door, I am partly convinced.” + +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and +somewhat alarmed my Mother and me. + +“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added my Father) by +all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my Mother,) “The sooner the +better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no time be lost” (cried I.) + +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) “I +think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the servants are +returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” “I’m glad of +it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it is.” + +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, +informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, +who had lossed their way, were very cold and begged leave to warm +themselves by our fire. + +“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no objection, my Dear?” +(said my Father.) “None in the World.” (replied my Mother.) + +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the +room and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable +Youth, I had ever beheld. The servant she kept to herself. + +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the +sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold +him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life +must depend. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 6th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us +that he was the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for +many years no more and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My +Father (he continued) is a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such +particular freinds as this Dear Party that I would thus betray his +failings. Your Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my +father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to +repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. “My Father seduced by the +false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, insisted on my +giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is +lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, that I +scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it +be said that I obliged my Father.” + +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. + +“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with +so spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of +wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have +been studying Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have +been beneath my dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful +William set forth for my Aunts.” + +“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in Middlesex, +and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to +have reached my Aunts.” + +“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without +knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the +bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a +single star was there to direct my steps, and I know not what might +have befallen me had I not at length discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom +that surrounded me a distant light, which as I approached it, I +discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. Impelled by the +combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold +and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have +gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when +may I hope to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have +undergone during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have +ever aspired. Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?” + +“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 7th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. +After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my +Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa +received us both with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival +was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as she had not only been +totally ignorant of my Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had +the slightest idea of there being such a person in the World. + +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I +found her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the +middle size. She received me with equal surprise though not with equal +Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and +Forbidding Reserve in her reception of me which was equally distressing +and Unexpected. None of that interesting Sensibility or amiable +simpathy in her manners and Address to me when we first met which +should have distinguished our introduction to each other. Her Language +was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were +neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to +her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine. + +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I +accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me +that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love than for +the endearing intercourse of Freindship. + +“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.) + +“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion +of me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to +consider my Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of +Consequence or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you +ever know me consult his inclinations or follow his Advice in the least +trifling Particular since the age of fifteen?” + +“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years +old, I entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the +satisfaction of your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions +of your being shortly obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by +seeking a support for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” + +“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?” + +“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” (answered +she.) + +“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for +an exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?” + +“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta). + +“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and +corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of +living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of +your tenderest affection?” + +“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however +you may in time be convinced that...” + +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the +Room at the Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her +announced by the Name of “Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post +and followed her into the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was +the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting +Baronet. + +Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, yet +I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. + +I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and tho’ +Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. + +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, +confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide +in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne +that I could not feel any ardent affection or very sincere Attachment +for Lady Dorothea. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 8th +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + + +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected +a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed +by Augusta of her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him +for having dared to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But +Edward foreseeing his design, approached him with heroic fortitude as +soon as he entered the Room, and addressed him in the following Manner. + +“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with the +base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of +my Father!” + +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta +were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led +me from the Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the +Door and in which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir +Edward. + +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London +road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them +to Drive to M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was +but a few miles distant. + +At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After +having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for +such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most +truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most +elegantly formed. A soft languor spread over her lovely features, but +increased their Beauty—. It was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She +was all sensibility and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and +after having exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our +Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our +Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by the +entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just returned from a +solitary ramble. + +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward +and Augustus. + +“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable angel!” +(replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. It was too +pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted alternately +on a sofa. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 9th +From the same to the same + + +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from +Philippa. + +“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken +back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your +charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such +dear and deserving Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I +trust you will return to the arms of your” + +“Philippa.” + + +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after +thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would +certainly avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other place +to go to. Tho’ certainly nothing could to any reasonable Being, have +appeared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply to her +invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was certainly capricious +enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few weeks after, +either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, married a +young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ we were +sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which +Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, +excite from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might +prove a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling +Sensibility was greatly affected when we were first informed of the +Event. The affectionate Entreaties of Augustus and Sophia that we would +for ever consider their House as our Home, easily prevailed on us to +determine never more to leave them. In the society of my Edward and +this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our time +was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and +in vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being +interrupted, by intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and +Sophia had on their first Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care +to inform the surrounding Families, that as their happiness centered +wholly in themselves, they wished for no other society. But alas! my +Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then enjoyed was too perfect to be +lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at once destroyed every +sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what I have +already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were +a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had +been contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; +who had vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them +into a Marriage with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a +Heroic Fortitude worthy to be related and admired, they had both, +constantly refused to submit to such despotic Power. + +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of +Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined +never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in the World, in so +doing, by accepting any proposals of reconciliation that might be +offered them by their Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble +independance however they never were exposed. + +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced +during which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum +of money which Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy +father’s Escritoire, a few days before his union with Sophia. + +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses +and would have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what +was their Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull +Augustus was arrested and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery +in the merciless perpetrators of the Deed will shock your gentle nature +Dearest Marianne as much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility +of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat +such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the +House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what we did! +We sighed and fainted on the sofa. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 10th +LAURA in continuation + + +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our +grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent +step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his +imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we +would, and he set forwards on his journey to Town. During his absence +we faithfully complied with his Desire and after the most mature +Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we could do was to +leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers of +Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the +result of our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we +count the tedious moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain +even did we sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too +unexpected a Blow to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we +could only faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was +Mistress of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for +Sophia and myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and we +instantly set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus was within +twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we arrived there, and no +sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of the Front +Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed “If +they had seen my Edward?” + +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated +Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. +“Where am I to drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth +(replied I), to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot +go to Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus +in so cruel a confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the +_recital_, of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my +Sensibility.” As I perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her +Sentiments the Postilion was instantly directed to return into the +Country. You may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest +Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any +support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have +remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of +Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a +trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never +mentioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is +the circumstance I allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull +Inheritress of their House and Fortune. But alas! the House had never +been their own and their Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own +Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have +returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to +her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the +remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had not +one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; +which was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of +Ireland. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 11th +LAURA in continuation + + +“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) +who I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order +the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself, +exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses.” +Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge of the +Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was +entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined +to change Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of +the Journey—. When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which +was but a few miles from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to +intrude our Society on him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very +elegant and well penned Note to him containing an account of our +Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of our intention to spend some +months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, +we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were stepping into +the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the +Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first +Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed +at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that +he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my +conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and +following the Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I +threw myself on my knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me +as his Grand Child. He started, and having attentively examined my +features, raised me from the Ground and throwing his Grandfatherly +arms around my Neck, exclaimed, “Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance +of my Laurina and Laurina’s Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my +Claudia’s Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and +the Grandaughter of the other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing +me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate Departure, entered the Room in +search of me. No sooner had she caught the eye of the venerable Peer, +than he exclaimed with every mark of Astonishment—“Another +Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the Daughter of my Laurina’s +eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently +proclaims it. “Oh! replied Sophia, when I first beheld you the +instinct of Nature whispered me that we were in some degree related—But +whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to +determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they were tenderly +embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull young +Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating +back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What +an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, +as many of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my +Laurina’s 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence +of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.” + +“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha +your Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the +House.” “None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without +farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and remember I +have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the Room and +immediately afterwards the House. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 12th +LAURA in continuation + + +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure +of Lord St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy +Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. How +long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we +found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the +Banknotes. As we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the +Apartment opened and “Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin. +The haste with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of +our Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to +pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he +little deserved the name—for though he told us that he was much +concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it appeared that +the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a single sigh, nor +induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive stars—. He told +Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with him to +Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy to +see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were +received with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and +the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally +well disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic +Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly +encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but unfortunately +her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted to admire so +promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his +power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail +on her to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They +were to be married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when +we arrived. _We_ soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man +as one might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he +was Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge +of such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had +never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least +resemblance to auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no +affection for him, or at least that she ought to feel none. The very +circumstance of his being her father’s choice too, was so much in his +disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in every other respect yet +_that_ of itself ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of +Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to +represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting with +the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors +in the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her +own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her +indeed all that our warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no +difficulty to convince her that it was impossible she could love +Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her Father; the only thing +at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion that she must +be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered in +declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the +smallest Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a +thing she said that she beleived she _did like_ Captain M’Kenrie better +than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after +having enumerated the good Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that +she was violently in love with him, we desired to know whether he had +ever in any wise declared his affection to her. + +“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that +he has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press +your hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” “Never +(replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room indeed when +his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly abruptly +or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a +moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose +that he could ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having +settled this Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into +consideration was, to determine in what manner we should inform +M’Kenrie of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at +length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter which +Sophia drew up in the following manner. + +“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +_her_ Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider +that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that +you may now entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her +father’s Cruelty to the execrable and detested Graham.” + +“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of +her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had +doubtless long possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once +secure the felicity of both.” + +The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had +been the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of +his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings +of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to +her who inspired it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia +and I experienced the satisfaction of seeing them depart for +Gretna-Green, which they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, +in preference to any other place although it was at a considerable +distance from Macdonald-Hall. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 13th +LAURA in continuation + + +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or +Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not +even then have suspected it, but for the following little Accident. +Sophia happening one day to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s +Library with one of her own keys, discovered that it was the Place +where he kept his Papers of consequence and amongst them some bank +notes of considerable amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and +having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a +Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly +gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us +happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from +the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often successfully put in +Execution; but alas! on the very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was +majestically removing the 5th Bank-note from the Drawer to her own +purse, she was suddenly most impertinently interrupted in her +employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and +precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness +could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on +the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore +her retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing +Macdonald, without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the +crime he was charged with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with +ignobly defrauding him of his money... The dignity of Sophia was +wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the +Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea +makes me blush?” The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to +upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language, that at +length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her Nature, as to +induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of Janetta’s +Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the affair. At +this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you may +imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of +the malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) +how canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless +reputation of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect _my_ +innocence as soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I _do_ suspect it, +and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less +than half an hour.” + +“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have +induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof.” + +“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully +exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled +Fortune-hunter.” (replied he) + +“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, +we have amply discharged every obligation that we have received from +her father.” + +“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted minds.” +(said he.) + +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left +Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate +down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted +limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms +sheltered us from the East—. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the +West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook and behind us ran the +turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and in a +Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had +for some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my +exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and Augustus +here to enjoy its Beauties with us?” + +“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear recalling +to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas, +what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he +is still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so +far to conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do +not I beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. +It affects me too deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it +wounds my feelings.” + +“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you—” replied +I—and then changing the conversation, desired her to admire the noble +Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! +my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a subject, I intreat you. +Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms. They +remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed +that noble grandeur which you admire in them.” + +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her +by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might again remind +her of Augustus. + +“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I +cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own +reflections; they ever recur to Augustus.” + +“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!” + +“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a +momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my +Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s +blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind +avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of +Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for +Augustus so poignant that I had not power to start any other topic, +justly fearing that it might in some unforseen manner again awaken all +her sensibility by directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be +silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. + +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly +apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the +road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as +it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections +which she had been before indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and +ran to the rescue of those who but a few moments before had been in so +elevated a situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now +laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What an ample subject for +reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that +Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!” said I +to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. + +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the +horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but +weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we +approached—they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they +were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed +and instantly ran mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our +senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of them +again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate +situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I running mad as often. At +length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of +life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that +either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif—but +as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we +knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No +sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and +kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He +fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.” + +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. + +“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested +and we were separated—” + +“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired—. Sophia +immediately sank again into a swoon—. _My_ greif was more audible. My +Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my face became as pale +as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—. + +“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in his +melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s Thunderbolts, avoid +the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of Firs—I see a Leg +of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but they deceived me—they +took him for a cucumber—” Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my +Edward’s Death—. For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not +then have left off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia +who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that +Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. “And +whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” “To that white +Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building which rose up amidst +the grove of Elms and which I had not before observed—) I agreed and we +instantly walked to it—we knocked at the door—it was opened by an old +woman; on being requested to afford us a Night’s Lodging, she informed +us that her House was but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but +that However we should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied +and followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly +cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and had +only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of ages; +but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing +therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to +possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined +Sensibilities—. She was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil +and obliging young woman; as such we could scarcely dislike here—she +was only an Object of Contempt—. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 14th +LAURA in continuation + + +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are +Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the +perusal of the following Pages your sensibility will be most severely +tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I had before experienced and which +I have already related to you, to the one I am now going to inform you +of. The Death of my Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost +more than my gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison to +the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after our +arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in her +delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake. She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the +Dew was falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably +the case; since how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should +have escaped the same indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily +Exertions I had undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so +effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against +the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive on +the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I was most +seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End +be fatal to her. + +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually +worse—and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was +obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy +Landlady—. Her disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few +days carried her off. Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent +you may suppose they were) I yet received some consolation in the +reflection of my having paid every attention to her, that could be +offered, in her illness. I had wept over her every Day—had bathed her +sweet face with my tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in +mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) +take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which +had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though at the time they +may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if +too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my +greif for the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. +Beware of swoons Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so +pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I +dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as +you chuse; but do not faint—” + +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing +Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to +it. + +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I +immediately (tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she +died, and near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not +walked many yards from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in +which I instantly took a place, determined to proceed in it to +Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some kind some pitying Freind who +would receive and comfort me in my afflictions. + +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish +the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they +were many. Regardless however of anything concerning them, I gave +myself up to my own sad Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A +silence, which was by nothing interrupted but by the loud and repeated +snores of one of the Party. + +“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) +What a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus +shock our senses by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be +capable of every bad action! There is no crime too black for such a +Character!” Thus reasoned I within myself, and doubtless such were the +reflections of my fellow travellers. + +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled +Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward +the father of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the +same seat with me were your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my +surprise at finding myself thus seated amongst my old Acquaintance. +Great as was my astonishment, it was yet increased, when on looking out +of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his +side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander +and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible +that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and +Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye +was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I +throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more +to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the +Vale of Usk, I was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had +then a Father and a Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now +deprived of every freind but you—” + +“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, (replied +I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory +in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.” + +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and +Sir Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole +melancholy affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of +Sir Edward and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, +by the unhappy tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them +every other misfortune which had befallen me since we parted. Of the +imprisonment of Augustus and the absence of Edward—of our arrival in +Scotland—of our unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our +cousins—of our visit to Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there +performed towards Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his +inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of +us, in obliging us to leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss +of Edward and Augustus and finally of the melancholy Death of my +beloved Companion. + +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s +countenance, during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, +that to the eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely +predominated. Nay, faultless as my conduct had certainly been during +the whole course of my late misfortunes and adventures, she pretended +to find fault with my behaviour in many of the situations in which I +had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had always behaved in +a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid +little attention to what she said, and desired her to satisfy my +Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my +spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had +complyed with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate +detail of every thing that had befallen her since our separation (the +particulars of which if you are not already acquainted with, your +Mother will give you) I applied to Augusta for the same information +respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady Dorothea. + +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of +Nature, her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in +that part of the World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the +Highlands, that she had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to +Scotland and had persuaded Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they +had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days before and from thence had made +daily Excursions into the Country around in the Stage Coach they were +then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that time returning. +My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter +of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, +namely, Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to +them except their Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to +be removed from any of his former Acquaintance, had driven it to +Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other Day. That +Philippa still retaining her affection for her ungratefull Husband, had +followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him in his little +Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little money into +their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always travelled +in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival in +Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from +Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in +a crowded and uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her +sentiments on the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus +sacrificing his Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old +woman whose folly in marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His +Behaviour however was entirely of a peice with his general Character; +for what could be expected from a man who possessed not the smallest +atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the meaning of simpathy, and who +actually snored—. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 15th +LAURA in continuation. + + +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was +determined to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as +soon as I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired +after their Health, expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their +situation. At first they seemed rather confused at my appearance +dreading no doubt that I might call them to account for the money which +our Grandfather had left me and which they had unjustly deprived me of, +but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to +step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater ease. +Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring +green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined +and sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them +of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and +at my request they related to me every incident of theirs. + +“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters +which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers +could neither of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it +is generally beleived that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a +Bricklayer and that my Father was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of +Edinburgh. This is however of little consequence for as our Mothers +were certainly never married to either of them it reflects no Dishonour +on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha +(the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived +together. They were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes +had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had always +lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of +the Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the +convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether it was from this +circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from a wish of being +independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for which we were always +remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is that when we had +reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran away. +Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with +economy and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this +purpose we therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we +devoted to Victuals, the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th +to Carriages, the 5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to +Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having +thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we expected to make the +nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London and had the +good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner than +we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves +from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our +Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, +we gave over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some +strolling Company of Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. +Accordingly we offered our services to one and were accepted; our +Company was indeed rather small, as it consisted only of the Manager +his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to pay and the only +inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for want of +People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind +trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was _Macbeth_, +in which we were truly great. The Manager always played _Banquo_ +himself, his Wife my _Lady Macbeth_. I did the _Three Witches_ and +Philander acted _all the rest_. To say the truth this tragedy was not +only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and after +having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to +exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be +quartered in that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—. +We were in the Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the +arms to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our +Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get something from him by +discovering the Relationship—. You know how well it succeeded—. Having +obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the Town, leaving +our Manager and his Wife to act _Macbeth_ by themselves, and took the +road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune with great _eclat_. +We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some preferment in +the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.” + +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in +their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who +impatiently expected me. + +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least +for the present. + +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of +his son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a +year. I graciously promised that I would, but could not help observing +that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on account of my being +the Widow of Edward than in being the refined and amiable Laura. + +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of +Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can +uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy solitude, my +unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my Mother, my +Husband and my Freind. + +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all +others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her +stay in Scotland. + +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the +same time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered. + +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent +Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of _Luvis_ and +_Quick_. + +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still +continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:— + +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne. +Laura. + + +Finis + + +June 13th 1790. + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + + +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. + + +Sir + +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me +with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I +greive; yet fear that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as +it is carried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is +another concern to your obliged humble + +Servant +The Author + + +Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. + +H. T. Austen + + +£105. 0. 0. + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE + + + + +LETTER the FIRST is from +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792. + +My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, +that she might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and +amiable Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these +words—the remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the +Maternal character and so openly violated the conjugal Duties, +prevented his adding anything farther; he embraced his sweet Child and +after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from us and seating himself +in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was there a better +young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has +experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! +for you know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her +Child and reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and +dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less +amiable Heart than Louisa owned! Her child already possesses the +personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she inherit from her Father +all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and twenty, and has +already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a difference +between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the +Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that +his Son was really about five years back, and that _he_ has affected to +appear ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about +the streets of London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of +57, Matilda and I continue secluded from Mankind in our old and +Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from Perth on a bold +projecting Rock, and commands an extensive veiw of the Town and its +delightful Environs. But tho’ retired from almost all the World, (for +we visit no one but the M’Leods, The M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the +M’Cartneys, the M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the +contrary there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty +girls, than we are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We +read, we work, we walk, and when fatigued with these Employments +releive our spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, or by +some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are handsome my dear +Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our Perfections is, that +we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I thus dwell +on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice the +innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as +she reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years +old; as handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as +prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you +that she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she +already knows the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never +tears her frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense +and Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, +and you will therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming +to Lesley-Castle, and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine +for yourself. Ah! my dear Freind, how happy should I be to see you +within these venerable Walls! It is now four years since my removal +from School has separated me from you; that two such tender Hearts, so +closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and Freindship, should +be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I live in +Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father +disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the +same time. We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else +indeed, could we but be at the same place together. We have only to +hope that such a period may arrive. My Father does not return to us +till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in a few Days; he is +impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters himself that +change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will join +with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of +the unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to +that of your sincere freind + +M. Lesley. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. + + +Glenford Febry 12 + +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking +you my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should +not have deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the +last five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary arrangements +for my sisters wedding, as to allow me no time to devote either to you +or myself. And now what provokes me more than anything else is that the +Match is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great +the Dissapointment must be to me, when you consider that after having +laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner +ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton, +and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the +Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been +Roasting, Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. +Indeed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to +what I experienced on last Monday when my sister came running to me in +the store-room with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me +that Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and +was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. “Good +God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will +become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it while it +is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I shall be able +to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and You and +the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by seeing my +poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, +where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the +Maids, and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she +was sensible, she expressed a determination of going instantly to +Henry, and was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest +Difficulty in the World to prevent her putting it in execution; at last +however more by Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her +room; we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued for some Hours in the +most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I continued in the room with +her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would +allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in +our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some +plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do +was to begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the +cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with +great Alacrity. We would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of +a Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. She was however much quieter +than she had been; the convulsions she had before suffered having given +way to an almost perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by +every means in our power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. +“Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occasion for your crying so much about +such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order to +comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You see it does not vex me in +the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it after all; for I +shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have dressed +already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very +likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he +will) I shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry +any one else. So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may +afflict you to think of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die +soon, and then his pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my +Trouble will last much longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain +that the pantry cannot be cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did +all in my power to console her, but without any effect, and at last as +I saw that she did not seem to listen to me, I said no more, but +leaving her with my Mother I took down the remains of The Ham and +Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was not expected to +live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible care to +break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in +spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too +violent for her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high +Delirium. She is still extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly +afraid of her going into a Decline. We are therefore preparing for +Bristol, where we mean to be in the course of the next week. And now my +dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and in the first +place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, your Father is +going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so unpleasing a +report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have written +to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as +she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not +who is the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the +resolution he has taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to +obliterate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have +lately so much afflicted him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from +all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may +never know what it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely +affectionate + +C.L. + + +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, +which I enclose to you, and on which you will make your own +reflections. + +The enclosed LETTER + +My dear CHARLOTTE + +You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir +George Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I +am. Sir George is certainly married; I was myself present at the +Ceremony, which you will not be surprised at when I subscribe myself +your + +Affectionate +Susan Lesley + + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL + + +Lesley Castle February the 16th + +I _have_ made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my +Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I +reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a +second family, our fortunes must be considerably diminushed—that if his +Wife should be of an extravagant turn, she would encourage him to +persevere in that gay and Dissipated way of Life to which little +encouragement would be necessary, and which has I fear already proved +but too detrimental to his health and fortune—that she would now become +Mistress of those Jewels which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir +George had always promised us—that if they did not come into Perthshire +I should not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my +Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at the +head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were the +melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately +occupied her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, +whether the probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own +Consequence. We both wish very much to know whether Lady Lesley is +handsome and what is your opinion of her; as you honour her with the +appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves that she must be +amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few +Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull +manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his +Health and Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa +with any degree either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself +obliged to her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be +single again. By this, you may perceive that he has entirely regained +that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, for which he was once so +remarkable. When he first became acquainted with Louisa which was +little more than three years ago, he was one of the most lively, the +most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet heard the +particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our +cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa +Burton was the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who +dieing a few Months before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then +about eighteen to the protection of any of his Relations who would +protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only one who found herself so +disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from a miserable Cottage in +Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from every pecuniary +Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment that +Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and Cunning; +but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the +appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, +that to be married, would be the only chance she would have of not +being starved, and who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary +share of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an +engaging address, she might stand a good chance of pleasing some young +Man who might afford to marry a girl without a Shilling. Louisa +perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was determined to +forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of Perseverance +and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her natural +disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose +upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her +discovered her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley +first beheld her at Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your +favourite comparison) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a +Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few Days, +he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell, and before he had +known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at first highly +displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he found +that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the +bounty of his great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely +sufficient to support him and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the +first twelvemonth, no one could be happier than Lesley, and no one more +amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and so +cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I often spent several weeks +together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspicion of her real +Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one would have +thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she had +so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did +indeed appear if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she +seemed to take no pains to prevent that affection from ever +diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, were now less frequent +and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our absence was however +never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of +young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at +one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of +Matilda and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter +girls than we are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial +happiness; I will not repeat it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I +have not yet mentioned anything of the matter, I hope you will do me +the justice to beleive that I _think_ and _feel_, a great deal for your +Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but that the healthy air of the +Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing from her Mind the +remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever + +M. L. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + + +Bristol February 27th + +My Dear Peggy + +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex +while I was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from +some unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return +you many thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance, +Love and Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me +for having often been repeated to me before. + +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to +imagine our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left +Particular orders with the servants to eat as hard as they possibly +could, and to call in a couple of Chairwomen to assist them. We brought +a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold tongue, and half a dozen +Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the help of our +Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in less +than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very +indifferent both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air +of the Bristol downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor +Henry from her remembrance. + +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I +will now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. +She is short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a +good deal; has fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let +you know as soon as she sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is +remarkably good-tempered when she has her own way, and very lively when +she is not out of humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very +affected; she never reads anything but the letters she receives from +me, and never writes anything but her answers to them. She plays, sings +and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in none, tho’ she +says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may flatter me so far +as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little affection +should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our +freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. +We spent two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom +we both happened to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being +remarkably bad, and our party particularly stupid, she was so good as +to conceive a violent partiality for me, which very soon settled in a +downright Freindship and ended in an established correspondence. She is +probably by this time as tired of me, as I am of her; but as she is too +Polite and I am too civil to say so, our letters are still as frequent +and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as firm and sincere as +when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures of +London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some +difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I +dare say she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those +favourite haunts of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable +gloom of the castle you inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her +health impaired by too much amusement, she may acquire fortitude +sufficient to undertake a Journey to Scotland in the hope of its +Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not conducive to her +happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your father’s +extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your Sister’s +consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My freind +herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as +much every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will +certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living +to which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some +reason to fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune +at all. The Jewels I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and +there is too much reason to think that she will preside at her Husbands +table in preference to his Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject +must necessarily extremely distress you, I will no longer dwell on it—. + +Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family +since we came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill +health of their little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may +imagine that being the only family with whom we can converse, we are of +course on a footing of intimacy with them; we see them indeed almost +every day, and dined with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant Day, +and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure the Veal was terribly +underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not help wishing all +dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A brother of Mrs +Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a good-looking +young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I tell +Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem +to relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and +Cleveland has a very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not +consider _myself_ as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but +to tell you the truth I never wish to act a more principal part at a +Wedding than the superintending and directing the Dinner, and therefore +while I can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, I shall never +think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect that I should not have +so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for dressing that +of my freinds. + +Yours sincerely +C. L. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley-Castle March 18th + +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received +one from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us +that he should do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us +on the following evening. This as you may suppose considerably +surprised us, particularly as your account of her Ladyship had given us +reason to imagine there was little chance of her visiting Scotland at a +time that London must be so gay. As it was our business however to be +delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit from Sir George +and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer expressive of the +happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily +recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it +would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left +Edinburgh, we contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we +were as happy as we ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the +following day, they came, accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. +Her Ladyship perfectly answers the description you sent me of her, +except that I do not think her so pretty as you seem to consider her. +She has not a bad face, but there is something so extremely unmajestic +in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in comparison with +the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant Dwarf. Her +curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more than +four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins +to mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. +We cannot refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of +our Father, and thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is +certainly one of the most pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not +yet determined when we are to go, but when ever we do we shall +certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; +Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever + +M. L. + + + + +LETTER the SIXTH +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley-Castle March 20th + +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already +heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square +for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no +idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actually +perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inaccessible, that I +expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and sincerely repented +having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the expence of +being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a +manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside +of this tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having +my spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the +Miss Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, +I met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and +Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls, +just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison +as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could but behold these +Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of your wits. They +will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. +Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who +I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave +me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss _Somebody_ which I +have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest Children. I have been +plagued ever since I came here with tiresome visits from a parcel of +Scotch wretches, with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me +so many invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, that I could +not help affronting them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and +yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do +with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings +but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett +with a great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there +is not a creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have +just had a conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly +offended me, and which as I have nothing more entertaining to send you +I will gave you the particulars of. You must know that I have for these +4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected William of entertaining a +partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that had _I_ been +inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have made choice +of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is nothing I +hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for +some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a +very great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to +see him unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry +Matilda, as moreover I know that his circumstances will not allow him +to marry any one without a fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely +dependant on her Father, who will neither have his own inclination nor +my permission to give her anything at present, I thought it would be +doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let him know as much, in +order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer his passion, +or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone with +him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause +to him in the following Manner. + +“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I +do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me +partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They +are indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to think”— + +“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do +not really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is +so very plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I +was speaking—” + +“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.” + +“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband +so deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see +any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion +perfectly unlike him and perfectly Handsome.” + +“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and +very handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is +very plain.” + +“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man.” + +“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain.” + +“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he). + +“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.” + +“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about _his_ Beauty, but your +opinion of his _Daughters_ is surely very singular, for if I understood +you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected to +do!” + +“Why, do _you_ find them plainer then?” (said I). + +“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak +of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss +Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?” + +“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!” + +“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why +what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly +find fault with?” + +“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I could +when I said it, in order to shame him). + +“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both.” + +“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!” + +“They are _taller_ than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy smile.) + +“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” + +“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, their +figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull.” + +“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never +could strain my neck enough to look at them.” + +“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in +not attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their +Lustre.” + +“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure +you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given +me just cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he +said) “You must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have +offended you!” + +“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least +surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these +girls.”— + +“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet +concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with +their complexion?” + +“They are so horridly pale.” + +“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened.” + +“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of +the world, they will never be able raise more than their common +stock—except indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down +these horrid old galleries and Antichambers.” + +“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they _have_ but little colour, at least, it +is all their own.” + +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the +impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. +But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it +so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I have protested +against wearing Rouge, and how much I always told you I disliked it. +And I assure you that my opinions are still the same.—. Well, not +bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately, +and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a +long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such +from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one +has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much vexed +by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to stay +and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I +am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, +that I am certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I +shall there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his +favourite. Adeiu my dear girl— + +Yrs affectionately Susan L. + + + + +LETTER the SEVENTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + + +Bristol the 27th of March + +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this +week which have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are +both downright jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two +pretty Women tho’ actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same +House without falling out about their faces. Do be convinced that you +are both perfectly handsome and say no more of the Matter. I suppose +this letter must be directed to Portman Square where probably (great as +is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be sorry to find +yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields and +the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must +be very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my +Mother’s income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during +Winter. I always longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether +the cold Beef there is cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly +suspicion that few people understand the art of cutting a slice of cold +Beef so well as I do: nay it would be hard if I did not know something +of the Matter, for it was a part of my Education that I took by far the +most pains with. Mama always found me _her_ best scholar, tho’ when +Papa was alive Eloisa was _his_. Never to be sure were there two more +different Dispositions in the World. We both loved Reading. _She_ +preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved drawing, Pictures, and I +drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than she, and no one +make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued since we have +been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes on +the superior excellence of our Employments _then_ so frequent are now +no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to +admire each other’s works; I never fail listening to _her_ Music, and +she is as constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till +Henry Hervey made his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his +Aunt in our neighbourhood where she established herself you know about +a twelvemonth ago, his visits to her had been at stated times, and of +equal and settled Duration; but on her removal to the Hall which is +within a walk from our House, they became both more frequent and +longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs Diana who +is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum and +Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and +Good-breeding. Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour +that I have often heard her give such hints of it before his face that +had not Henry at such times been engaged in conversation with Eloisa, +they must have caught his Attention and have very much distressed him. +The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I have before hinted at, +now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of admiring each +others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ I +constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even +a pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of +approbation. This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; +however, I was as cool as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and +concerted a scheme of Revenge, I was determined to let her have her own +way and not even to make her a single reproach. My scheme was to treat +her as she treated me, and tho’ she might even draw my own Picture or +play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever really liked) not to say +so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ I had for many years constantly +hollowed whenever she played, _Bravo_, _Bravissimo_, _her_, _Da capo_, +_allegretto con expressione_, and _Poco presto_ with many other such +outlandish words, all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my +Admiration; and so indeed I suppose they are, as I see some of them in +every Page of every Music book, being the sentiments I imagine of the +composer. + +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for +alas! my silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease +her; on the contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I +am very glad to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous +custom of applauding my Execution on the Harpsichord till you made _my_ +head ake, and yourself hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for +keeping your admiration to yourself.” I never shall forget the very +witty answer I made to this speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be +quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in future, for be +assured that I shall always keep my admiration to myself and my own +pursuits and never extend it to yours.” This was the only very severe +thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have often felt myself +extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my feelings +public. + +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection +for each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for +Miss Burton could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You +may imagine therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him +play her such a trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with +undiminished constancy, notwithstanding he has been dead more than six +weeks; but some People mind such things more than others. The ill state +of Health into which his loss has thrown her makes her so weak, and so +unable to support the least exertion, that she has been in tears all +this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. Marlowe who with +her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this morning. I am +sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom we +have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure +Eloisa and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and +have therefore contracted a kind of affection for each other, which +does not make Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The +Marlowes are going to Town; Cliveland accompanies them; as neither +Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you or Matilda may have better +Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, Eloisa’s spirits are so +low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is certainly by no means +mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope determine our +Measures—in the mean time believe me + +and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell. + + + + +LETTER the EIGHTH +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE + + +Bristol April 4th + +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of +your affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you +made me of our Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great +releif to me to write to you and as long as my Health and Spirits will +allow me, you will find me a very constant correspondent; I will not +say an entertaining one, for you know my situation suffciently not to +be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart +too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You must not +expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least acquainted, +or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from +hearing or inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the +melancholy effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the +Happiness it once enjoyed and which ill supports its present +wretchedness. The Possibility of being able to write, to speak, to you +of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, and your goodness will not I +know refuse to read what it will so much releive my Heart to write. I +once thought that to have what is in general called a Freind (I mean +one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than to any +other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my +wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by +two confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of +one to me, and I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I +say that to have some kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to +my sorrows without endeavouring to console me was what I had for some +time wished for, when our acquaintance with you, the intimacy which +followed it and the particular affectionate attention you paid me +almost from the first, caused me to entertain the flattering Idea of +those attentions being improved on a closer acquaintance into a +Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you would be the +greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that such +Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is +now almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid +that I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off +writing, and I cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you +than by acting, as I know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or +Present. I am my dear Emmas sincere freind + +E. L. + + + + +LETTER the NINTH +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL + + +Grosvenor Street, April 10th + +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot +give a greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the +Desire I feel that our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than +by setting you so good an example as I now do in answering it before +the end of the week—. But do not imagine that I claim any merit in +being so punctual; on the contrary I assure you, that it is a far +greater Gratification to me to write to you, than to spend the Evening +either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my +appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like +to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, +that independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion +of my Time to my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a +letter to write of spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you +know me well enough to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient +Inducement (if one is necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure a +Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters to me, +whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally +interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of +your own sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will +only encourage and increase them, and that it will be more prudent in +you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing +and melancholy Pleasure it must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself +to deny you so great an Indulgence, and will only insist on your not +expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own letters; on the contrary +I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and enlivening Humour as +shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull countenance of +my Eloisa. + +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three +freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have +been here. I know you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the +Beauty of three Ladies of whom you have heard so much. Now, as you are +too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I think I may venture to inform you +that I like none of their faces so well as I do your own. Yet they are +all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I +beleive would in general be said to have a finer face than her +Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a +little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which +she is superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself +as many admirers as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. +I am sure you will agree with me in saying that they can none of them +be of a proper size for real Beauty, when you know that two of them are +taller and the other shorter than ourselves. In spite of this Defect +(or rather by reason of it) there is something very noble and majestic +in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and something agreably lively in +the appearance of their pretty little Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may +be majestic and the other lively, yet the faces of neither possess that +Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her present languor is so far +from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother say of us, if they +knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this letter. It +is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by any +one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either +her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more +amiable are women in that particular! One man may say forty civil +things to another without our supposing that he is ever paid for it, +and provided he does his Duty by our sex, we care not how Polite he is +to his own. + +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, +my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and +Spirits that can be offered by her affectionate Freind + +E. Marlowe. + + +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the +witty way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when +I assure you that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. + + + + +LETTER the TENTH +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Portman Square April 13th + +MY DEAR CHARLOTTE + +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in +London after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding +your Letter here waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful +Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I every day more regret the serene and +tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have left, in exchange for the +uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted City. Not that I will +pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal Amusements are in +the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy them +extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that +every appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those +unhappy Beings whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is +out of my power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my +sensibility for the sufferings of so many amiable young Men, my Dislike +of the extreme admiration I meet with, and my aversion to being so +celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, and in Printshops, +that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the Amusements so +various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I +possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as +inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as +yours! But ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I +have had the small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. + +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has +long disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to +require the most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night +Matilda and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs +Kickabout’s; we were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable +young Man in the main, tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He +is in love with Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the +Lady of the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when +my Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most +lovely of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with another +Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him, I was certain +that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. Imagine my +surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of Cleveland—I +instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and the +acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the +gentleman and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe +handsome?) The elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners +and Delightful Bow, at once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; +but I can imagine everything he would have said, had he opened his +Mouth. I can picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the Noble +sentiments, and elegant Language which would have shone so conspicuous +in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The approach of Sir James Gower +(one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the Discovery of any such +Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never commenced, and +by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are the +accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! +Sir James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost +always of our Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but +no Cleveland—he is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues +me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome Conversations about +you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in the hope of seeing her +irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going to Lady Flambeaus, who +is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be Lady Lesley, +Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of Sir +George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune +where art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes +her appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful +Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I +wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely she must be +sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her little diminutive +figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible that she can not +know how greatly superior an elegant simplicity is to the most studied +apparel? Would she but Present them to Matilda and me, how greatly +should we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds be on our fine +majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an Idea should +never have occurred to _her_. I am sure if I have reflected in this +manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s +Jewels too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me +entertain you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this +morning from Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he +is at Naples has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s +Bulls for annulling his 1st Marriage and has since actually married a +Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that +much the same sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worthless +Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon +to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished +merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite +forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good +Neighbours. He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and +to bring him his little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and +himself are equally desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his +invitation, it is at Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to +go without loss of time; Fitzgerald offers to escort us there, but +Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such a scheme—she owns it +would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father +desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months +both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending +us. Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the +Amusements of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our +Brother. “No (says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been +fool enough to travel I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of +the Family, and I found it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I +am so foolish again.” So says her Ladyship, but Sir George still +Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany +us. + +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + +FROM +THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH +TO +THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST + +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. + + + + +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by + +THE AUTHOR. + + +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + +HENRY the 4th + + +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own +satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and +predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the +rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered. +It is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had certainly +four sons, but it is not in my power to inform the Reader who was his +wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his +son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the +King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to +Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being +thus settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son +Henry who had previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. + +HENRY the 5th + + +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and +amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing +Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I +forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where +he went and fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards +married the King’s daughter Catherine, a very agreable woman by +Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this however he died, and was +succeeded by his son Henry. + +HENRY the 6th + + +I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him +and the Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had +better read some other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in +this, meaning by it only to vent my spleen _against_, and shew my +Hatred _to_ all those people whose parties or principles do not suit +with mine, and not to give information. This King married Margaret of +Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost +to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of +Arc lived and made such a _row_ among the English. They should not have +burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles between the Yorkists +and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) usually +conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was +murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the +Throne. + +EDWARD the 4th + + +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which +the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in +marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient +proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was +afterwards confined in a Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and +Avarice Henry the 7th. One of Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who +has had a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and therefore not +worth reading. Having performed all these noble actions, his Majesty +died, and was succeeded by his son. + +EDWARD the 5th + + +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to +draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose +name was Richard the 3rd. + +RICHARD the 3rd + + +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated +by Historians, but as he was a _York_, I am rather inclined to suppose +him a very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted +that he killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been +declared that he did _not_ kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to +beleive true; and if this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he +did not kill his Wife, for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of +York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether +innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E. +of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss about +getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth, +he succeeded to it. + +HENRY the 7th + + +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of +York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right +inferior to hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage +he had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was +married to the King of Scotland and had the happiness of being +grandmother to one of the first Characters in the World. But of _her_, +I shall have occasion to speak more at large in future. The youngest, +Mary, married first the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk, +by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, +who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an +amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other people +were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck +and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former +of whom was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was +beheaded with the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the +Kings kitchen. His Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry +whose only merit was his not being _quite_ so bad as his daughter +Elizabeth. + +HENRY the 8th + + +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were +not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I +am myself. It will therefore be saving _them_ the task of reading again +what they have read before, and _myself_ the trouble of writing what I +do not perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the +principal Events which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked +Cardinal Wolsey’s telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he +was come to lay his bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and +the King’s riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is +however but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was +entirely innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of +which her Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient +proofs, not to mention her solemn Protestations of Innocence, the +weakness of the Charges against her, and the King’s Character; all of +which add some confirmation, tho’ perhaps but slight ones when in +comparison with those before alledged in her favour. Tho’ I do not +profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper to give some and +shall of course make choice of those which it is most necessary for the +Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her letter to the +King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of this +Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has +fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his +abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous +depredations of time has been of infinite use to the landscape of +England in general, which probably was a principal motive for his doing +it, since otherwise why should a Man who was of no Religion himself be +at so much trouble to abolish one which had for ages been established +in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice +who, tho’ universally acquitted of the crimes for which she was +beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led an abandoned +life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, since she +was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the +Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The +Kings last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected +it. He was succeeded by his only son Edward. + +EDWARD the 6th + + +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s +death, he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the +late King happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the +Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. +This Man was on the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat +of a favourite with me, tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that +he was equal to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or +Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud, +had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as +it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never +happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with +the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of Northumberland had the +care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so +well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his daughter in law +the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading Greek. +Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was +always rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, +she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what +was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she +declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen, and while +conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence in Latin and another +in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband accidentally passing +that way. + +MARY + + +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of +England, in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her +Cousins Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the +Kingdom for the misfortunes they experienced during her Reign, since +they fully deserved them, for having allowed her to succeed her +Brother—which was a double peice of folly, since they might have +foreseen that as she died without children, she would be succeeded by +that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many were +the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her +reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of +Spain who in her sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She +died without issue, and then the dreadful moment came in which the +destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in +her, and the Murderess of her Cousin succeeded to the Throne.—— + +ELIZABETH + + +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad +Ministers—Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed +such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived +at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people +been asserted and beleived that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, +and the rest of those who filled the cheif offices of State were +deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded such +writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised, +neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their +Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining +for the space of nineteen years, a _Woman_ who if the claims of +Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who +condescended to place confidence in her, had every reason to expect +assistance and protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring +this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can +any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, this everlasting +blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any praise to +Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this bewitching +Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose only +ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was +abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and +vilified by all, what must not her most noble mind have suffered when +informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it +with a most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her +Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she was +doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious +Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that some +hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much +credit? But this is a striking proof of _their_ narrow souls and +prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great +Hall at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of +February 1586—to the everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, +and of England in general. It may not be unnecessary before I entirely +conclude my account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had +been accused of several crimes during the time of her reigning in +Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she +was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, +her Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely +done away every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in +the Reader’s mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I +shall proceed to mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s +reign. It was about this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English +Navigator who sailed round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his +Country and his profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated +as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in this +or the next Century by one who tho’ now but young, already promises to +answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of his Relations and +Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom this work is +dedicated, and my no less amiable self. + +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of +Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an _Earl_, as Drake +was in that of a _Sailor_, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This +unfortunate young Man was not unlike in character to that equally +unfortunate one _Frederic Delamere_. The simile may be carried still +farther, and Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to the +Emmeline of Delamere. It would be endless to recount the misfortunes of +this noble and gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was +beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant of +Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and after +performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long +survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to +the memory of Mary I should pity her. + +JAMES the 1st + + +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most +principal, was his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the +whole I cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had +several Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died +before his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell +his unfortunate Brother. + +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with +infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member +of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am +necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England +did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour +indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of Parliament might justly +be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho’ +certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general +politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were +entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. + +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is +by many people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an +enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and +must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars +of his life, to Mr Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find +many interesting anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir +Christopher Hatton.—His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which +inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a keener +penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard +an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now on +reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to +_find it out_, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them. + +SHARADE + + +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on +my whole. + +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards +created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in +the above mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of +Buckingham. On his Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles. + +CHARLES the 1st + + +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to +those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve +since he was her descendant. Never certainly were there before so many +detestable Characters at one time in England as in this Period of its +History; never were amiable men so scarce. The number of them +throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to _five_, besides the +inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their King and faithful +to his interests. The names of this noble five who never forgot the +duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, +were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own +support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. +While the _villains_ of the time would make too long a list to be +written or read; I shall therefore content myself with mentioning the +leaders of the Gang. Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be +considered as the original Causers of all the disturbances, Distresses, +and Civil Wars in which England for many years was embroiled. In this +reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my +attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally guilty with the +generality of the English, since they dared to think differently from +their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as _Stuarts_ it was +their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the +unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too +numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what +I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my principal reason for +undertaking the History of England being to Prove the innocence of the +Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with having effectually done, +and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather fearful of having fallen short +in the latter part of my scheme.—As therefore it is not my intention to +give any particular account of the distresses into which this King was +involved through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall +satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of Arbitrary and +tyrannical Government with which he has often been charged. This, I +feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am certain +of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions +have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that +he was a STUART. + +FINIS + + +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +To Miss COOPER + + +COUSIN + +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every +Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I +Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious +Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by +your Comical Cousin + +The Author + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + + +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner +from that in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now +arrived at that age when it is necessary for them in some measure to +become conversant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister +scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that their education +has been such as will not disgrace their appearance in the World, and +that _they_ will not disgrace their Education I have every reason to +beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible yet +unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As their +progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am +willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together +into Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first _entrée_ into +Life, as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad +that we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward +for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall +proceed by degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, +and perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay +Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we +have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at +Sir John Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the +Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How +they will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I +have no fear, I only dread their health. + + +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls _are out_. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove +to the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they +were seated thus addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now +arrived when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours +towards you during your Education. You are this Evening to enter a +World in which you will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me +warn you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the +Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if +you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both assured me that they +would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow it with +attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to +amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would +never give me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had +presided over their infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such +expectations and such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear +from you—and can chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of +your being seduced by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. +Come, then my Children (added I) the Carriage is driving to the door, +and I will not a moment delay the happiness you are so impatient to +enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely +breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. “The long-expected +Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be in the World.”—In +a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s parlour, where with her daughter +she sate ready to receive us. I observed with delight the impression my +Children made on them—. They were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking +Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the peculiarity of their +situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and address which +could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how delighted I must +have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed every +object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in +raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners. + +Yrs Ever—A. F. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + + +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why +should I feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have +experienced before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for +Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our +feelings become more acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my +dear Belle that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being +more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen, +or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most +lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then dear +Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I +weep when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My +Freinds are all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they +lament my want of spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of +releiving my melancholy, by directing my thoughts to other objects, +they have invited several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with +us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected +on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s family will be with us next week. This +is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the +presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and distress +me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our Visitors are arrived. + + +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet +sister Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming +Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she +is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is +more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, +the moment she entered the house, and she appeared equally pleased with +me, attaching herself to me during the remainder of the day. There is +something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, that she seems more +than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I +could not help telling her how much she engaged my admiration—. “Oh! +Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an inability at the moment of +expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss Jane—(I repeated)—I could +not think of words to suit my feelings—She seemed waiting for my +speech—. I was confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I +could only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my Embarrassment +and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by saying—“My +dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself—I will turn the +Conversation without appearing to notice it. “Oh! how I loved her for +her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you used to do?” said she—. “I am +advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I +have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I +quite recovered from my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal.” +“You are in the right my Love,” said she. Then repeating the following +line which was an extempore and equally adapted to recommend both +Riding and Candour— + +“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” _I_ rode +once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and tremulous a +Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could +make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes on my +face, since I was married.” I was never so surprised—“Married, Ma’am!” +I repeated. “You may well wear that look of astonishment, said she, +since what I have said must appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is +more true than that I once was married.” + +“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” + +“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret +from him and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might +offer of revealing it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon +given in the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears, +continued Miss Jane wiping her Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory. +He fell my Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after a +most happy Union of seven years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a +Girl, who had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with +him and with every one as the Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever +been an only Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. But no +sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures fell sick and +died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an +Aunt I attended my Children to their early Grave—. My Father did not +survive them many weeks—He died, poor Good old man, happily ignorant to +his last hour of my Marriage.” + +“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s death?” + +“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself +are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been +either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the +name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry’s death I could never +hear without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that +of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point +of bearing only my Christian one since my Father’s death.” She +paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to +you for so entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted +me! But have you quite done?” + +“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, +and as we had always loved each other in idea from the high Character +in which we had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we +determined to live together. We wrote to one another on the same +subject by the same post, so exactly did our feeling and our actions +coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we gave and received +of becoming one family, and have from that time lived together in the +greatest affection.” + +“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.” + +“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?” + +“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when +one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to hear +of equal misery.” + +“Ah! but my Sophia why _are you_ unhappy?” + +“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?” + +“But my love why lament _his_ perfidy, when you bore so well that of +many young Men before?” + +“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.” + +“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane. + + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + + +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my +Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who +did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to +sit forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent +especially as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation +on me “So Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the +door of the Carriage) you seem very smart to night—_My_ poor Girls will +appear quite to disadvantage by _you_—I only hope your Mother may not +have distressed herself to set _you_ off. Have you got a new Gown on?” + +“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could assume. + +“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission I +seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, +for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a +needless piece of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped +one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor, +for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than +blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time +I must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been +quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell you the truth (I always +speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the +room will not know whether you have a Gown on or not—But I suppose you +intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, the sooner the better; and +I wish you success.” + +“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—” + +“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” Miss +Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. + +“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her Ladyship. + +“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.” + +“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant.” + +“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” + +“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” “Bread and +Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a better supper.” said +Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is +always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she +constantly does at her Mother’s wit. + +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while +riding in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother +is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my +way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady +Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her +House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of +being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.—When we arrived at +Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, which was an hour and a half +later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too +fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing +however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just +as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got +his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean +time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room +went exactly before me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me +though there were several people close to us, + +“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I +am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; +perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she +passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and +leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr +Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered +the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared +from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all +the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations +in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in +the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see +that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who +had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly +when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with +_more_ than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and +said loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss +Maria in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and +I cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she +wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent +her seeing that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine +Merchant.” “Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not +he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that +he did.” “At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” +“Why, was not your _Father_ as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not +he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me +_such_ a look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half +delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of being +thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she +took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in +favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a +Party of great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone +else. Miss Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen +preferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant +Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable +ride. + +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at +the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it +should. She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should +not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she +wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste and come +immediately—” “What an impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—” +replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her +Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold. + +“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that +you may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do +not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine for +I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I +could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself +dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait—I hate my +Victuals over-done—But you need not come before the time—How does your +Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the +middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it +very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said +her Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are +used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made +your Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often +ride in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the +wind shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as +you do in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings +either of cold or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on +Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at +night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk home—My +compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive on—” +And away she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always +does. + +Maria Williams. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + + +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very +agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her +appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and +voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that +they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her +Life, who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen +her, for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, +and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable +opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished +to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr +Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged +in a whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of +necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and +being determined not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began +the Conversation in the following Manner. + +“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?” + +“I arrived on Tuesday.” + +“You came from Derbyshire?” + +“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will +think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not +wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased +with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you +have left?” + +“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know +for why. + +“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a +poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much +raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. + +“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.” +“You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma’am I was and passed many happy +years there—” + +“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you never spent any +_un_happy one’s there.” + +“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a +right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—_Some_ Misfortunes I have +certainly met with.” + +“_What_ Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with impatience to +know every thing. “_None_ Ma’am I hope that have been the effect of any +wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but that +any sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the +cruelties of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem +unhappy my dear Miss Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your +Misfortunes?” “_Your_ power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it +is in _no ones_ power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in +so mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage +to reply. I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few +moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear +Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably +stand in need of some one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to +superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give +it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept the offer I +make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall +only ask for yours—” + +“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am highly flattered by +your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no +uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I +am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall +know where to apply.” + +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still +however I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of +sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined +therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you +intend staying long in this part of England Miss Grenville?” + +“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.” + +“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?” + +“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I did not +expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life—. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + + +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love +every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I +had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from +my dear Musgrove. + +Sackville St: Janry 7th + + +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the +sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the +day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when her +Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase it +from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live +within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first +entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was +like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with +admiration—She appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate +Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time to look +about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an happiness +for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is +Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine +for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored by a +Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you +are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You are +an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the prettiest +Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves +Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ah! +Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for +the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair +one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in +affluence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an +improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I +am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house +which tho’ an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is +ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—Of that +Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and +devoted humble servt. + +T. Musgrove. + + +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a +master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of +Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? +No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with +by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the +following in answer to his Letter tomorrow. + +My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made +me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than +any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest +Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a +Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you +are in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How +shall we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we +cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how +impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will not +Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you +every day of my Life. + +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her +house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are +there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I +never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most +truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever + +Henrietta Halton. + + +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write +though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a +Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady +Scudamores—And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I +liked her Cousin Musgrove? + +“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.” + +“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love +with you.” + +“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?” + +“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love +with you from the first moment he beheld you.” + +“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I +would give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first +sight.” + +“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I +beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a +contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a +great deal of the World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.” + +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my +conquest. However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so +I said to her— + +“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who +have no fortune at all.” + +“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you +can be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to +encourage your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a +fortune with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an +estate of several hundreds an year which is capable of great +Improvement, and an excellent House, though at Present it is not quite +in repair.” + +“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, +and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good +Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for +admiring me, tho’ perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady +Scudamore.” + +“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I +am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to +yourself, cherishing a most tender affection for him.” + +“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?” + +“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?” + +“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away +my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.” + +“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why +refuse to confide in me?” + +“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, +that I am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a +handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be +ashamed of a passion which must have been mean since the object would +have been unworthy. But with such a figure and face, and such beautiful +hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such superior +merit has made an impression on me.” + +“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a +quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such +Noble Sentiments!” + +“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady Scudamore +did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” + +“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you +say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the +invisible power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so +exactly coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair is not very different. +Yes my dear Girl, the poor despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the +story of his Love—. Nor was I surprised at it—I know not how it was, +but I had a kind of presentiment that he _would_ be in love with you.” + +“Well, but how did he break it to you?” + +“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together +talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the +Conversation was cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, +when on a sudden he interrupted me in the midst of something I was +saying, by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone— + +Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me + +“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such +a couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are +not in rhime!” + +“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am +very sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, +with a pretty Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent +House tho’ somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with +success to the adorable Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel +and been toasted by a Baronet”—“_That_ I have—” cried I. Lady Scudamore +continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced of the +little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, +that I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet +surely neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the +exquisite Gratification of dieing for her, of falling a victim to her +Charms. And when I am dead”—continued her— + +“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!” + +“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” “When +I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and perhaps +she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” + +“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it.” + +“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would +not for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.” + +“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. + +“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when +I feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to +haste such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta +bless some happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly +attached to her as the hapless Musgrove and while _he_ crumbles to +dust, May they live an example of Felicity in the Conjugal state!” + +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be +lain at my feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have +to be capable of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. + +“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, +must melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; +and could the divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her +happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she +would pity your affection and endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin +answered he, do not endeavour to raise my hopes by such flattering +assurances. No, I cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and the +only thing which remains for me to do, is to die.” “True Love is ever +desponding replied I, but _I_ my dear Tom will give you even greater +hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, than I have yet given you, +by assuring you that I watched her with the strictest attention during +the whole day, and could plainly discover that she cherishes in her +bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for you.” + +“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!” + +“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I +to him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might +render the pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid +voice, nothing will convince me that _I_ can have touched the heart of +Henrietta Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt +deceiving me.” “In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me +to Persuade the poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference +for him; but when at last he could no longer deny the force of my +arguments, or discredit what I told him, his transports, his Raptures, +his Extacies are beyond my power to describe.” + +“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my +Uncle and Aunt?” + +“Yes, I told him every thing.” + +“And what did he say.” + +“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by +their Nephews or Neices, and wished _he_ were in the House of Commons, +that he might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.” + +“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I. + +“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta +would condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that +splendor to which she had been used, and accept only in exchange the +Comforts and Elegancies which his limited Income could afford her, even +supposing that his house were in Readiness to receive her. I told him +that it could not be expected that she would; it would be doing her an +injustice to suppose her capable of giving up the power she now +possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to the poorer +part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you and +herself.” + +“To be sure said I, I _am_ very Charitable every now and then. And what +did Mr Musgrove say to this?” + +“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the +truth of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy +Creature destined to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must +bring himself to wait, however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when +she might be freed from the power of worthless Relations and able to +bestow herself on him.” + +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who +am to be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so +adeiu my dear freind, and beleive me yours etc— + +H. Halton. + + +Finis. + + + + +SCRAPS + + + + +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN + + +MY DEAR NEICE + +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon +from superintending your Education myself, the care of which will +probably on that account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it +is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling as much as possible the +want of my personal instructions, by addressing to you on paper my +Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of Young Women, which you will +find expressed in the following pages.— + +I am my dear Neice +Your affectionate Aunt +The Author. + + + + +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + +A LETTER + +MY DEAR LOUISA + +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath, +whither he is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him, +but the eldest and the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. +Though you have often told me that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome, +you never mentioned anything of her Sisters’ beauty; yet they are +certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give you their description.—Julia is +eighteen; with a countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dignity are +happily blended, she has a form which at once presents you with Grace, +Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter than +her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity of +Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way as +estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness +the most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She +appears to have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her +conversation during the half hour they set with us, was replete with +humourous sallies, Bonmots and repartees; while the sensible, the +amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality worthy of a heart like her +own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I had always received +of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that social Shake, +and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old and +valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been +separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) +that many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which +gave occasion to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections +on the many changes in their situation which so long a period had +occasioned, on the advantages of some, and the disadvantages of others. +From this subject she made a short digression to the instability of +human pleasures and the uncertainty of their duration, which led her to +observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She was proceeding to +illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great Men when +the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending +five or six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, +and I assure you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. +“Louisa Clarke (said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet +sometimes her good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. +She neither wants Understanding or is without some pretensions to +Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the value she sets on her +personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be offered are +at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her folly.” So +said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the concurrence of +their own. + +Your affectionate +Arabella Smythe. + + + + +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + + +_Characters_ + +Popgun Maria +Charles Pistolletta +Postilion Hostess +Chorus of ploughboys Cook +and and +Strephon Chloe + + +SCENE—AN INN + + +_Enter_ Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. + + +Hostess to Maria +If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9. + +Maria +Yes Mistress.—_exit_ Maria + +Hostess to Cook +If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them. + +Cook +I will, I will. _exit_ Cook. + +Hostess to Charles +If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it. + +Charles +Yes Madam. _exeunt_ Severally. + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta. + + +Pistoletta +Pray papa how far is it to London? + +Popgun +My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the +picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am +going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my +whole Estate, it wants seven Miles. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE SUN— + + +_Enter_ Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. + + +Chloe +Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be +married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will +sing a song. + +SONG + + +I go to Town +And when I come down, +I shall be married to Streephon.* +And that to me will be fun. + + +[* Note the two e’s] + + +Chorus + + +Be fun, be fun, be fun, +And that to me will be fun. + + +_Enter_ Cook— + + +Cook +Here is the bill of fare. + +Chloe reads +2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have +the leg of beef and the partridge. + +_Exit_ Cook. + +And now I will sing another song. + +SONG + + +I am going to have my dinner, +After which I shan’t be thinner, +I wish I had here Strephon +For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one. + + +Chorus + + +Tough one, tough one, tough one +For he would carve the partridge if it +Should be a tough one. + + +_Exit_ Chloe and Chorus.— + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE LION. + + +_Enter_ Strephon and Postilion. + + +Streph:) +You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to +Town to marry Chloe. How much is your due? + +Post: +Eighteen pence. + +Streph: +Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support +myself in Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I +received from Chloe. + +Post: +Sir, I accept your offer. + +END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + + +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her +Judgement led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart +disapproved. + +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved +Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that +on a close examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have +strictly deserved them. I murdered my father at a very early period of +my Life, I have since murdered my Mother, and I am now going to murder +my Sister. I have changed my religion so often that at present I have +not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured witness in every public +tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my own Will. In +short there is scarcely a crime that I have not committed—But I am now +going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse guards has paid his +Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As there is +something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. +Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died +immensely rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice +to his three younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about +eight Million to the present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the +Colonel lived tolerably contented for nearly four months when he took +it into his head to determine on getting the whole of his eldest +Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged and the Colonel produced it in +Court—but nobody would swear to it’s being the right will except +himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody beleived him. At that +moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, and was +beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready +to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply +to me. In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore +to its’ being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign +all his illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the +next day with an offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my +Sister. + +Yours Ever, +Anna Parker. + + + + +A TOUR THROUGH WALES— +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— + + +MY DEAR CLARA + +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my +power to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last +Monday month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a +principality contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of +Wales. We travelled on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our +little poney and Fanny and I walked by her side or rather ran, for my +Mother is so fond of riding fast that she galloped all the way. You may +be sure that we were in a fine perspiration when we came to our place +of resting. Fanny has taken a great many Drawings of the Country, which +are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such exact resemblances as might +be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. It would astonish +you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We determined to take +a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our own besides +those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both capped +and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone, +Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which +we each took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully— + +I am your ever affectionate +Elizabeth Johnson. + + + + +A TALE. + + +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage +in Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested +to him by his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a +Closet for him, provided he would take a small house near the borders +of an extensive Forest, and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus +gladly accepted the offer and continued for some time searching after +such a retreat when he was one morning agreably releived from his +suspence by reading this advertisement in a Newspaper. + +TO BE LETT + + +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three +Miles from the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a +Closet. + +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and +shewed him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him +in his Carriage to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for +three days and six nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest +and following a track which led by it’s side down a steep Hill over +which ten Rivulets meandered, they reached the Cottage in half an hour. +Wilhelminus alighted, and after knocking for some time without +receiving any answer or hearing any one stir within, he opened the door +which was fastened only by a wooden latch and entered a small room, +which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that were +unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A pair +of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less +destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the +House. He was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the +comfort of reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything +on furniture himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took +him the next day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was +requisite to furnish the two rooms and the Closet, In a few days +everything was completed, and Wilhelminus returned to take possession +of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable +Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and Marina to whom +Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of Attendants.—An +ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in endeavouring +to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable presence +of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in an +open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was +both simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by +four sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and +that happy ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of +Wilhelminus’s most striking Virtues. +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 *** diff --git a/1212-h/1212-h.htm b/1212-h/1212-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4d2268 --- /dev/null +++ b/1212-h/1212-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4598 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>Love and Freindship And Other Early Works | Project Gutenberg</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +p.drama {text-indent: 0%; + margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 ***</div> + +<h1>LOVE & FREINDSHIP<br/> +AND<br/> +OTHER EARLY WORKS</h1> + +<h3>A Collection of Juvenile Writings</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Jane Austen</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"><b>LOVE AND FREINDSHIP</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0002">LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0003">LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0004">LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0005">LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0006">LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0007">LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0008">LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0009">LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0010">LETTER the 9th From the same to the same</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0011">LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0012">LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0013">LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0014">LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0015">LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0016">LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation.</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"><b>AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0018">LESLEY CASTLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0019">LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0020">LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0021">LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0022">LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0023">LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0024">LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0025">LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0026">LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0027">LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0028">LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0029"><b>THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0030"><b>A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0031">To Miss COOPER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0033">LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0034">LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0035">LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0036">LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0037">LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0038"><b>THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0039"><b>THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0040">A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0041">A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0042"><b>A TALE.</b></a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0001"></a> +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP</h2> + +<p class="center"> +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER OBLIGED +HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0002"></a> +LETTER the FIRST<br/> +From ISABEL to LAURA</h2> + +<p> +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my Daughter +a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your Life, have you said +“No, my freind never will I comply with your request till I may be no +longer in Danger of again experiencing such dreadful ones.” +</p> + +<p> +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may ever be +said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers +and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, surely it must be at such a +time of Life. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Isabel +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0003"></a> +LETTER 2nd<br/> +LAURA to ISABEL</h2> + +<p> +Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already experienced, yet to +avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I will gratify the curiosity +of your daughter; and may the fortitude with which I have suffered the many +afflictions of my past Life, prove to her a useful lesson for the support of +those which may befall her in her own. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Laura +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0004"></a> +LETTER 3rd<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited me to +give you. +</p> + +<p> +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother was the +natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I was born in +Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. +</p> + +<p> +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to my +paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most romantic +parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably softened +and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I was once +beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my +Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was Mistress. +When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my instructions, my +Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and I had shortly surpassed my +Masters. +</p> + +<p> +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. +</p> + +<p> +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, my +Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my only fault, +if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ indeed my own +Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they ever did, yet now I +never feel for those of an other. My accomplishments too, begin to fade—I +can neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once did—and I have +entirely forgot the <i>Minuet Dela Cour</i>. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0005"></a> +LETTER 4th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She may +probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in indigent +Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical motives. There it was +our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then one and twenty. Tho’ +pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between ourselves) she never possessed +the hundredth part of my Beauty or Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. +She had passed 2 Years at one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had +spent a fortnight in Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. +</p> + +<p> +“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities and +idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the unmeaning +Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be +exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the Dissipations of +London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of Southampton? I who am +doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an humble Cottage in the Vale of +Uske.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble Cottage +for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0006"></a> +LETTER 5th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were arranged in +social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden greatly astonished, by +hearing a violent knocking on the outward door of our rustic Cot. +</p> + +<p> +My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It +sounds like a loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) +“it does indeed.” (cried I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my +Father) it certainly does appear to proceed from some uncommon violence exerted +against our unoffending door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help +thinking it must be somebody who knocks for admittance.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine on +what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone <i>does</i> rap +at the door, I am partly convinced.” +</p> + +<p> +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and somewhat +alarmed my Mother and me. +</p> + +<p> +“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added +my Father) by all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my +Mother,) “The sooner the better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no +time be lost” (cried I.) +</p> + +<p> +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) +“I think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the +servants are returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” +“I’m glad of it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it +is.” +</p> + +<p> +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, informed us +that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, who had lossed their +way, were very cold and begged leave to warm themselves by our fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no +objection, my Dear?” (said my Father.) “None in the World.” +(replied my Mother.) +</p> + +<p> +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the room and +quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable Youth, I had ever +beheld. The servant she kept to herself. +</p> + +<p> +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the sufferings of +the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold him, than I felt that +on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life must depend. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0007"></a> +LETTER 6th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us that he was +the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for many years no more +and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My Father (he continued) is +a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such particular freinds as this +Dear Party that I would thus betray his failings. Your Virtues my amiable +Polydore (addressing himself to my father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my +Charming Laura call on me to repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. +“My Father seduced by the false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of +Title, insisted on my giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. +Lady Dorothea is lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, +that I scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be +said that I obliged my Father.” +</p> + +<p> +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with so +spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of wonder +(said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have been studying +Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have been beneath my +dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful William set forth for +my Aunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in +Middlesex, and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to have +reached my Aunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without knowing +which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the bitterest and most +pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a single star was there to +direct my steps, and I know not what might have befallen me had I not at length +discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom that surrounded me a distant light, +which as I approached it, I discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. +Impelled by the combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, +Cold and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have +gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope +to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have undergone during +the course of my attachment to you, to which I have ever aspired. Oh! when will +you reward me with Yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0008"></a> +LETTER 7th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. After +taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my Isabel, I +accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa received us both +with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival was indeed a most +agreable surprise to her as she had not only been totally ignorant of my +Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had the slightest idea of there +being such a person in the World. +</p> + +<p> +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I found +her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the middle size. +She received me with equal surprise though not with equal Cordiality, as +Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and Forbidding Reserve in her +reception of me which was equally distressing and Unexpected. None of that +interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy in her manners and Address to me +when we first met which should have distinguished our introduction to each +other. Her Language was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of +regard were neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive +me to her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine. +</p> + +<p> +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I accidentally +overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me that her Heart was no +more formed for the soft ties of Love than for the endearing intercourse of +Freindship. +</p> + +<p> +“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.) +</p> + +<p> +“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion of +me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to consider my +Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of Consequence or +concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you ever know me consult his +inclinations or follow his Advice in the least trifling Particular since the +age of fifteen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years old, I +entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the satisfaction of +your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions of your being shortly +obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by seeking a support for your wife +in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” +(answered she.) +</p> + +<p> +“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for an +exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?” +</p> + +<p> +“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta). +</p> + +<p> +“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and corrupted +Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of living in every +distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of your tenderest +affection?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however you +may in time be convinced that...” +</p> + +<p> +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the Room at the +Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her announced by the Name of +“Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post and followed her into +the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was the Lady, proposed as a Wife +for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet. +</p> + +<p> +Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, +yet I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. +</p> + +<p> +I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and +tho’ Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. +</p> + +<p> +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, confided to +me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide in her, any of Mine. +You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne that I could not feel any +ardent affection or very sincere Attachment for Lady Dorothea. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0009"></a> +LETTER 8th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation</h2> + +<p> +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected a one +as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed by Augusta of +her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him for having dared +to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But Edward foreseeing his design, +approached him with heroic fortitude as soon as he entered the Room, and +addressed him in the following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with +the base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of my +Father!” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta were +doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led me from the +Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the Door and in +which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir Edward. +</p> + +<p> +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London road; as +soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them to Drive to +M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was +but a few miles distant. +</p> + +<p> +At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After having +been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for such I term +your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most truly worthy of the +Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most elegantly formed. A soft +languor spread over her lovely features, but increased their Beauty—. It +was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She was all sensibility and Feeling. +We flew into each others arms and after having exchanged vows of mutual +Freindship for the rest of our Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most +inward secrets of our Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull +Employment by the entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just +returned from a solitary ramble. +</p> + +<p> +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward and +Augustus. +</p> + +<p> +“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable +angel!” (replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. +It was too pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted +alternately on a sofa. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0010"></a> +LETTER the 9th<br/> +From the same to the same</h2> + +<p> +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from Philippa. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken +back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your charming +society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such dear and deserving +Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I trust you will return to +the arms of your” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Philippa.” +</p> + +<p> +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after thanking her +for her kind invitation assured her that we would certainly avail ourselves of +it, whenever we might have no other place to go to. Tho’ certainly +nothing could to any reasonable Being, have appeared more satisfactory, than so +gratefull a reply to her invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was +certainly capricious enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few +weeks after, either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, +married a young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ +we were sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which +Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, excite +from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might prove a source +of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling Sensibility was greatly +affected when we were first informed of the Event. The affectionate Entreaties +of Augustus and Sophia that we would for ever consider their House as our Home, +easily prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them. In the society of +my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our +time was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and in +vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being interrupted, by +intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on their first +Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care to inform the surrounding +Families, that as their happiness centered wholly in themselves, they wished +for no other society. But alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then +enjoyed was too perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at +once destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what +I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were a +happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had been +contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; who had +vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them into a Marriage +with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a Heroic Fortitude worthy to +be related and admired, they had both, constantly refused to submit to such +despotic Power. +</p> + +<p> +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of Parental +Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined never to forfeit the +good opinion they had gained in the World, in so doing, by accepting any +proposals of reconciliation that might be offered them by their +Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble independance however they +never were exposed. +</p> + +<p> +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced during +which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum of money which +Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy father’s Escritoire, +a few days before his union with Sophia. +</p> + +<p> +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses and would +have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what was their +Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus was arrested +and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the merciless perpetrators +of the Deed will shock your gentle nature Dearest Marianne as much as it then +affected the Delicate sensibility of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of +Augustus himself. To compleat such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that +an Execution in the House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but +what we did! We sighed and fainted on the sofa. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0011"></a> +LETTER 10th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our grief, +Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent step to be +taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his imprisoned freind to +lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we would, and he set forwards on +his journey to Town. During his absence we faithfully complied with his Desire +and after the most mature Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we +could do was to leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers +of Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the result of +our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we count the tedious +moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain even did we +sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too unexpected a Blow +to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we could only +faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was Mistress of, I arose and +after packing up some necessary apparel for Sophia and myself, I dragged her to +a Carriage I had ordered and we instantly set out for London. As the Habitation +of Augustus was within twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we +arrived there, and no sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of +the Front Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed +“If they had seen my Edward?” +</p> + +<p> +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated Enquiries, I +gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. “Where am I to +drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth (replied I), +to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot go to +Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus in so cruel a +confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the <i>recital</i>, +of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my Sensibility.” As I +perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her Sentiments the Postilion was +instantly directed to return into the Country. You may perhaps have been +somewhat surprised my Dearest Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, +destitute of any support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never +once have remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of +Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a +trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never mentioned. The +death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is the circumstance I +allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their House and +Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their own and their Fortune had +only been an Annuity on their own Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To +your Mother I should have returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to +have introduced to her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have +passed the remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had +not one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; which +was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of Ireland. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0012"></a> +LETTER 11th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) who +I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order +the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself, +exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the +Horses.” Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge +of the Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was +entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change +Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey—. +When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which was but a few miles +from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to intrude our Society on +him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very elegant and well penned Note +to him containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of +our intention to spend some months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had +dispatched this Letter, we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were +stepping into the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by +the Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first Appearance my +Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed at him a 2d +time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that he was my +Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my conjecture I +instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and following the +Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself on my +knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me as his Grand Child. He +started, and having attentively examined my features, raised me from the Ground +and throwing his Grandfatherly arms around my Neck, exclaimed, +“Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance of my Laurina and Laurina’s +Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my Claudia’s Mother, I do +acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and the Grandaughter of the +other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing me, Sophia astonished at my +precipitate Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner had she +caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he exclaimed with every mark of +Astonishment—“Another Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the +Daughter of my Laurina’s eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous +Matilda sufficiently proclaims it. “Oh! replied Sophia, +when I first beheld you the instinct of Nature whispered me that we were +in some degree related—But whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could +not pretend to determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they +were tenderly embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull +young Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating +back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What +an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many +of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my Laurina’s +3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence of Gustavus to +compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.” +</p> + +<p> +“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha your +Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the House.” +“None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without +farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and +remember I have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the +Room and immediately afterwards the House. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0013"></a> +LETTER the 12th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure of Lord +St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy +Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. +How long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we +found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As +we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment opened and +“Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin. The haste +with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of our Note, spoke +so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to pronounce him at first sight, +a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he little deserved the name—for +though he told us that he was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own +account it appeared that the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a +single sigh, nor induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive +stars—. He told Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with +him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy +to see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were received +with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and the Mistress of +the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally well disposed, endowed +with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic Disposition, she might, had these +amiable qualities been properly encouraged, have been an ornament to human +Nature; but unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted +to admire so promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his +power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail on her +to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They were to be +married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when we arrived. +<i>We</i> soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as one might +have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he was Sensible, +well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge of such trifles, but +as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had never read the sorrows of +Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least resemblance to auburn, we were +certain that Janetta could feel no affection for him, or at least that she +ought to feel none. The very circumstance of his being her father’s +choice too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in +every other respect yet <i>that</i> of itself ought to have been a sufficient +reason in the Eyes of Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were +determined to represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting +with the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors in +the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her own opinion, +and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her indeed all that our +warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no difficulty to convince her that +it was impossible she could love Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her +Father; the only thing at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion +that she must be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered +in declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the smallest +Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a thing she said that +she beleived she <i>did like</i> Captain M’Kenrie better than any one she +knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after having enumerated the good +Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that she was violently in love with +him, we desired to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his affection +to her. +</p> + +<p> +“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that he +has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press your +hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” +“Never (replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room +indeed when his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly +abruptly or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a moment +Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose that he could +ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having settled this +Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into consideration was, to +determine in what manner we should inform M’Kenrie of the favourable +Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at length agreed to acquaint him with +it by an anonymous Letter which Sophia drew up in the following manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +<i>her</i> Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider that a +few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that you may now +entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father’s Cruelty to +the execrable and detested Graham.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of her +and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had doubtless long +possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once secure the felicity of +both.” +</p> + +<p> +The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had been +the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of his affection +for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings of Love to +Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to her who inspired +it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the +satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which they chose for the +celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any other place although it was +at a considerable distance from Macdonald-Hall. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0014"></a> +LETTER the 13th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or Graham +had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not even then have +suspected it, but for the following little Accident. Sophia happening one day +to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s Library with one of her own keys, +discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of consequence and +amongst them some bank notes of considerable amount. This discovery she +imparted to me; and having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment +of so vile a Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly +gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us happen to +go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from the drawer. This +well meant Plan we had often successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the +very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th +Bank-note from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most impertinently +interrupted in her employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most +abrupt and precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning +sweetness could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on the +undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore her +retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing Macdonald, +without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the crime he was charged +with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his +money... The dignity of Sophia was wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, +hastily replacing the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of +an Act, of which the bare idea makes me blush?” The base wretch was still +unconvinced and continued to upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such +opprobious Language, that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness +of her Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of +Janetta’s Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the +affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you +may imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of the +malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) how +canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation of such +bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect <i>my</i> innocence as +soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I <i>do</i> suspect it, and +therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less than half an +hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have induced us to +remain so long beneath thy roof.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully exerted +by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter.” +(replied he) +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, we have +amply discharged every obligation that we have received from her father.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted +minds.” (said he.) +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left Macdonald Hall, +and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate down by the side of a +clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted limbs. The place was suited to +meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East—. A Bed +of full-grown Nettles from the West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook +and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and +in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had for +some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my +exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and +Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear +recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. +Alas, what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he is +still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to +conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I beseech you +ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. It affects me too +deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it wounds my +feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended +you—” replied I—and then changing the conversation, desired +her to admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the +Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a +subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on +those elms. They remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, +magestic—he possessed that noble grandeur which you admire in +them.” +</p> + +<p> +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her by fixing +on any other subject of conversation which might again remind her of Augustus. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I +cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own reflections; they +ever recur to Augustus.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a momentary +glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my Attention to an object +which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s blue sattin waistcoat +striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind avoid a subject so +distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time +so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had +not power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in some +unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by directing her thoughts to +her Husband. Yet to be silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. +</p> + +<p> +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly apropos; +it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the road which +ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as it diverted the +attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections which she had been before +indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue of those who +but a few moments before had been in so elevated a situation as a fashionably +high Phaeton, but who were now laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What +an ample subject for reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, +would not that Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking +Mind!” said I to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. +</p> + +<p> +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the horrid +spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but weltering in +their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we approached—they were +Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia +shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed and instantly ran +mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our senses, some minutes, and +on regaining them were deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we +continue in this unfortunate situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I +running mad as often. At length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone +retained any share of life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before +imagined that either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our +Greif—but as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no +more, we knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No +sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and kneeling on +each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He fixing +his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.” +</p> + +<p> +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested and we +were separated—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, +Expired—. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon—. <i>My</i> +greif was more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my +face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—. +</p> + +<p> +“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in +his melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s +Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of +Firs—I see a Leg of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but +they deceived me—they took him for a cucumber—” Thus I +continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward’s Death—. For two Hours +did I rave thus madly and should not then have left off, as I was not in the +least fatigued, had not Sophia who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated +me to consider that Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. +“And whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” +“To that white Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building +which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before +observed—) I agreed and we instantly walked to it—we knocked at the +door—it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to afford us a +Night’s Lodging, she informed us that her House was but small, that she +had only two Bedrooms, but that However we should be wellcome to one of them. +We were satisfied and followed the good woman into the House where we were +greatly cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and +had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of +ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing +therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to possess +either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined Sensibilities—. She +was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as +such we could scarcely dislike here—she was only an Object of +Contempt—. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0015"></a> +LETTER the 14th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are Mistress +of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the perusal of the +following Pages your sensibility will be most severely tried. Ah! what were the +misfortunes I had before experienced and which I have already related to you, +to the one I am now going to inform you of. The Death of my Father and my +Mother and my Husband though almost more than my gentle Nature could support, +were trifles in comparison to the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The +morning after our arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain +in her delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake. She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the Dew was +falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably the case; since +how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should have escaped the same +indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily Exertions I had undergone in my +repeated fits of frenzy had so effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to +make me proof against the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying +totally inactive on the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I +was most seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End be fatal +to her. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually worse—and +I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was obliged to confine +herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy Landlady—. Her +disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few days carried her off. +Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent you may suppose they were) I +yet received some consolation in the reflection of my having paid every +attention to her, that could be offered, in her illness. I had wept over her +every Day—had bathed her sweet face with my tears and had pressed her +fair Hands continually in mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me +a few Hours before she died) take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the +imprudent conduct which had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though +at the time they may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the +end, if too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my greif for +the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. Beware of swoons +Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise +to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say conducive to Health in its +consequences—Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not +faint—” +</p> + +<p> +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing Advice +to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to it. +</p> + +<p> +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I immediately +(tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she died, and +near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not walked many yards +from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in which I instantly took a +place, determined to proceed in it to Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some +kind some pitying Freind who would receive and comfort me in my afflictions. +</p> + +<p> +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish the Number +of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they were many. Regardless +however of anything concerning them, I gave myself up to my own sad +Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A silence, which was by nothing +interrupted but by the loud and repeated snores of one of the Party. +</p> + +<p> +“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) What +a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus shock our senses +by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be capable of every bad action! +There is no crime too black for such a Character!” Thus reasoned I within +myself, and doubtless such were the reflections of my fellow travellers. +</p> + +<p> +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled Scoundrel who +had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward the father of my +Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the same seat with me were +your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at finding myself thus +seated amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my astonishment, it was yet +increased, when on looking out of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, +with Philippa by his side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, +Philander and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it +possible that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations +and Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye +was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I +throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more to your +Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I +was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father and a +Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now deprived of every freind +but you—” +</p> + +<p> +“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, +(replied I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory +in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and Sir +Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole melancholy +affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of Sir Edward +and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, by the unhappy +tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them every other misfortune +which had befallen me since we parted. Of the imprisonment of Augustus and the +absence of Edward—of our arrival in Scotland—of our unexpected +Meeting with our Grand-father and our cousins—of our visit to +Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there performed towards +Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his inhuman Behaviour, +unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of us, in obliging us to +leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss of Edward and Augustus and +finally of the melancholy Death of my beloved Companion. +</p> + +<p> +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s countenance, +during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, that to the eternal +reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely predominated. Nay, faultless +as my conduct had certainly been during the whole course of my late misfortunes +and adventures, she pretended to find fault with my behaviour in many of the +situations in which I had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had +always behaved in a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and +Refinement, I paid little attention to what she said, and desired her to +satisfy my Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my +spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had complyed +with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate detail of every +thing that had befallen her since our separation (the particulars of which if +you are not already acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I applied to +Augusta for the same information respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady +Dorothea. +</p> + +<p> +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of Nature, her +curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in that part of the +World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the Highlands, that she +had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to Scotland and had persuaded +Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days +before and from thence had made daily Excursions into the Country around in the +Stage Coach they were then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that +time returning. My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the +latter of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, namely, +Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to them except their +Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to be removed from any of his +former Acquaintance, had driven it to Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling +every other Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection for her +ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him +in his little Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little +money into their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always +travelled in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival +in Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from Edinburgh to +Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in a crowded and +uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her sentiments on +the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus sacrificing his +Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old woman whose folly in +marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was +entirely of a peice with his general Character; for what could be expected from +a man who possessed not the smallest atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the +meaning of simpathy, and who actually snored—. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0016"></a> +LETTER the 15th<br/> +LAURA in continuation.</h2> + +<p> +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was determined to +speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as soon as I left the +Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired after their Health, +expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their situation. At first they seemed +rather confused at my appearance dreading no doubt that I might call them to +account for the money which our Grandfather had left me and which they had +unjustly deprived me of, but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, +they desired me to step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater +ease. Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring +green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and +sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them of every +thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and at my request +they related to me every incident of theirs. +</p> + +<p> +“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters which +Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers could neither +of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it is generally beleived +that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father +was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of little +consequence for as our Mothers were certainly never married to either of them +it reflects no Dishonour on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and +unpolluted kind. Bertha (the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) +always lived together. They were neither of them very rich; their united +fortunes had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had +always lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of the +Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the convenience of having +it always at Hand. Whether it was from this circumstance, of its being easily +taken, or from a wish of being independant, or from an excess of sensibility +(for which we were always remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is +that when we had reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran +away. Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with economy +and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose we +therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we devoted to Victuals, +the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th to Carriages, the 5th to +Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the +9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we +expected to make the nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London +and had the good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner +than we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves +from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our +Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, we gave +over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some strolling Company of +Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. Accordingly we offered our +services to one and were accepted; our Company was indeed rather small, as it +consisted only of the Manager his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to +pay and the only inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for +want of People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind +trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was +<i>Macbeth</i>, in which we were truly great. The Manager always played +<i>Banquo</i> himself, his Wife my <i>Lady Macbeth</i>. I did the <i>Three +Witches</i> and Philander acted <i>all the rest</i>. To say the truth this +tragedy was not only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and +after having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to +exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be quartered in +that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—. We were in the +Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the arms to whom it +belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our Grandfather, we agreed to +endeavour to get something from him by discovering the Relationship—. You +know how well it succeeded—. Having obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we +instantly left the Town, leaving our Manager and his Wife to act <i>Macbeth</i> +by themselves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune +with great <i>eclat</i>. We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some +preferment in the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.” +</p> + +<p> +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in their little +Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who impatiently expected me. +</p> + +<p> +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least for the +present. +</p> + +<p> +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of his son, +he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a year. I graciously +promised that I would, but could not help observing that the unsimpathetic +Baronet offered it more on account of my being the Widow of Edward than in +being the refined and amiable Laura. +</p> + +<p> +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of Scotland where +I have ever since continued, and where I can uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, +indulge in a melancholy solitude, my unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my +Father, my Mother, my Husband and my Freind. +</p> + +<p> +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all others most +suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her stay in Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the same +time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered. +</p> + +<p> +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent Garden, +where they still exhibit under the assumed names of <i>Luvis</i> and +<i>Quick</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still continues +to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis +</p> + +<p class="right"> +June 13th 1790. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0017"></a> +LESLEY CASTLE<br/> +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS</h2> + +<p class="center"> +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. +</p> + +<p> +Sir +</p> + +<p> +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me with of +dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I greive; yet fear +that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as it is carried, it should +be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is another concern to your obliged +humble +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Servant<br/> +The Author +</p> + +<p> +Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. T. Austen +</p> + +<p> +£105. 0. 0. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0018"></a> +LESLEY CASTLE</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0019"></a> +LETTER the FIRST is from<br/> +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792. +</p> + +<p> +My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, that she +might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and amiable +Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these words—the +remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the Maternal character and so +openly violated the conjugal Duties, prevented his adding anything farther; he +embraced his sweet Child and after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from +us and seating himself in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was +there a better young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has +experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! for you +know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her Child and +reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and dishonour. Never was +there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less amiable Heart than Louisa owned! +Her child already possesses the personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she +inherit from her Father all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and +twenty, and has already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a +difference between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the +Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that his Son +was really about five years back, and that <i>he</i> has affected to appear +ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about the streets of +London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of 57, Matilda and I +continue secluded from Mankind in our old and Mouldering Castle, which is +situated two miles from Perth on a bold projecting Rock, and commands an +extensive veiw of the Town and its delightful Environs. But tho’ retired +from almost all the World, (for we visit no one but the M’Leods, The +M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the M’Cartneys, the +M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the contrary +there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty girls, than we +are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We read, we work, we +walk, and when fatigued with these Employments releive our spirits, either by a +lively song, a graceful Dance, or by some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We +are handsome my dear Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our +Perfections is, that we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I +thus dwell on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice +the innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as she +reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years old; as +handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as +prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you that +she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she already knows +the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never tears her +frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense and +Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, and you will +therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming to Lesley-Castle, +and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine for yourself. Ah! my dear +Freind, how happy should I be to see you within these venerable Walls! It is +now four years since my removal from School has separated me from you; that two +such tender Hearts, so closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and +Freindship, should be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I +live in Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father +disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the same time. +We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else indeed, could we but be +at the same place together. We have only to hope that such a period may arrive. +My Father does not return to us till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in +a few Days; he is impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters +himself that change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will +join with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of the +unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to that of +your sincere freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. Lesley. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0020"></a> +LETTER the SECOND<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.</h2> + +<p> +Glenford Febry 12 +</p> + +<p> +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking you my +dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should not have +deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the last five weeks been +so fully employed in the necessary arrangements for my sisters wedding, as to +allow me no time to devote either to you or myself. And now what provokes me +more than anything else is that the Match is broke off, and all my Labour +thrown away. Imagine how great the Dissapointment must be to me, when you +consider that after having laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get +the Wedding dinner ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, +Broiled Mutton, and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through +the Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been Roasting, +Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. Indeed my dear +Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to what I experienced on +last Monday when my sister came running to me in the store-room with her face +as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me that Hervey had been thrown from his +Horse, had fractured his Scull and was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the +most emminent Danger. “Good God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in +the name of Heaven will become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to +eat it while it is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I +shall be able to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and +You and the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by +seeing my poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, +where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the Maids, +and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she was sensible, +she expressed a determination of going instantly to Henry, and was so wildly +bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest Difficulty in the World to +prevent her putting it in execution; at last however more by Force than +Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her room; we laid her upon the Bed, and +she continued for some Hours in the most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I +continued in the room with her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure +in Eloisa would allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful +Waste in our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some +plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do was to +begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the cold Ham and +Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with great Alacrity. We +would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of a Chicken, but she would +not be persuaded. She was however much quieter than she had been; the +convulsions she had before suffered having given way to an almost perfect +Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by every means in our power, but to +no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. “Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s +no occasion for your crying so much about such a trifle. (for I was willing to +make light of it in order to comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You +see it does not vex me in the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it +after all; for I shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have +dressed already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very +likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he will) I +shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry any one else. +So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may afflict you to think +of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die soon, and then his +pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my Trouble will last much +longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain that the pantry cannot be +cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did all in my power to console +her, but without any effect, and at last as I saw that she did not seem to +listen to me, I said no more, but leaving her with my Mother I took down the +remains of The Ham and Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was +not expected to live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible +care to break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in +spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too violent for +her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high Delirium. She is still +extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly afraid of her going into a +Decline. We are therefore preparing for Bristol, where we mean to be in the +course of the next week. And now my dear Margaret let me talk a little of your +affairs; and in the first place I must inform you that it is confidently +reported, your Father is going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so +unpleasing a report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have +written to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as +she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not who is +the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the resolution he has +taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to obliterate from his +remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have lately so much afflicted +him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from all the World, +neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may never know what +it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely affectionate +</p> + +<p class="right"> +C.L. +</p> + +<p> +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, which I +enclose to you, and on which you will make your own reflections. +</p> + +<p> +The enclosed LETTER +</p> + +<p> +My dear CHARLOTTE +</p> + +<p> +You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir George +Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I am. Sir George +is certainly married; I was myself present at the Ceremony, which you will not +be surprised at when I subscribe myself your +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Affectionate<br/> +Susan Lesley +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0021"></a> +LETTER the THIRD<br/> +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley Castle February the 16th +</p> + +<p> +I <i>have</i> made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my Dear +Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I reflected that +if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a second family, our fortunes +must be considerably diminushed—that if his Wife should be of an +extravagant turn, she would encourage him to persevere in that gay and +Dissipated way of Life to which little encouragement would be necessary, and +which has I fear already proved but too detrimental to his health and +fortune—that she would now become Mistress of those Jewels which once +adorned our Mother, and which Sir George had always promised us—that if +they did not come into Perthshire I should not be able to gratify my curiosity +of beholding my Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit +at the head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were +the melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately occupied +her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, whether the +probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own Consequence. We both wish very +much to know whether Lady Lesley is handsome and what is your opinion of her; +as you honour her with the appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves +that she must be amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it +in a few Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull +manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his Health and +Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa with any degree +either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself obliged to her for her +Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be single again. By this, you may +perceive that he has entirely regained that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, +for which he was once so remarkable. When he first became acquainted with +Louisa which was little more than three years ago, he was one of the most +lively, the most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet +heard the particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our +cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa Burton was +the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who dieing a few Months +before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then about eighteen to the +protection of any of his Relations who would protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the +only one who found herself so disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from +a miserable Cottage in Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from +every pecuniary Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment +that Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and +Cunning; but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the +appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, that to +be married, would be the only chance she would have of not being starved, and +who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary share of personal beauty, +joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an engaging address, she might stand a +good chance of pleasing some young Man who might afford to marry a girl without +a Shilling. Louisa perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was +determined to forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of +Perseverance and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her +natural disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose +upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her discovered +her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley first beheld her at +Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your favourite comparison) was as +delicate as sweet and as tender as a Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her +attractions. In a very few Days, he was falling in love, shortly after actually +fell, and before he had known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at +first highly displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he +found that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the bounty of his +great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely sufficient to support him +and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the first twelvemonth, no one could be +happier than Lesley, and no one more amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so +plausibly did she act and so cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I +often spent several weeks together with them, yet we neither of us had any +suspicion of her real Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one +would have thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she +had so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did indeed appear +if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she seemed to take no pains to +prevent that affection from ever diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, +were now less frequent and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our +absence was however never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the +society of young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at +one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of Matilda +and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter girls than we +are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial happiness; I will not repeat +it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I have not yet mentioned anything +of the matter, I hope you will do me the justice to beleive that I <i>think</i> +and <i>feel</i>, a great deal for your Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but +that the healthy air of the Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing +from her Mind the remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0022"></a> +LETTER the FOURTH<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</h2> + +<p> +Bristol February 27th +</p> + +<p> +My Dear Peggy</p> + +<p> +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex while I +was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from some +unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return you many +thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance, Love and +Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me for having often +been repeated to me before. +</p> + +<p> +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to imagine +our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left Particular orders with +the servants to eat as hard as they possibly could, and to call in a couple of +Chairwomen to assist them. We brought a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold +tongue, and half a dozen Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the +help of our Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in +less than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very indifferent +both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air of the Bristol +downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor Henry from her +remembrance. +</p> + +<p> +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I will +now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. She is +short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a good deal; has +fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let you know as soon as she +sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is remarkably good-tempered when +she has her own way, and very lively when she is not out of humour. She is +naturally extravagant and not very affected; she never reads anything but the +letters she receives from me, and never writes anything but her answers to +them. She plays, sings and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in +none, tho’ she says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may +flatter me so far as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little +affection should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our +freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. We spent +two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom we both happened +to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being remarkably bad, and +our party particularly stupid, she was so good as to conceive a violent +partiality for me, which very soon settled in a downright Freindship and ended +in an established correspondence. She is probably by this time as tired of me, +as I am of her; but as she is too Polite and I am too civil to say so, our +letters are still as frequent and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as +firm and sincere as when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the +pleasures of London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some +difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I dare say +she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those favourite haunts +of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable gloom of the castle you +inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her health impaired by too much +amusement, she may acquire fortitude sufficient to undertake a Journey to +Scotland in the hope of its Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not +conducive to her happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your +father’s extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your +Sister’s consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My +freind herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as much +every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will +certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living to +which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some reason to +fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune at all. The Jewels +I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and there is too much reason to +think that she will preside at her Husbands table in preference to his +Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject must necessarily extremely distress +you, I will no longer dwell on it—. +</p> + +<p> +Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family since we +came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill health of their +little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may imagine that being the only +family with whom we can converse, we are of course on a footing of intimacy +with them; we see them indeed almost every day, and dined with them yesterday. +We spent a very pleasant Day, and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure +the Veal was terribly underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not +help wishing all dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A +brother of Mrs Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a +good-looking young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I +tell Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem to +relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and Cleveland has a +very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not consider <i>myself</i> +as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but to tell you the truth I +never wish to act a more principal part at a Wedding than the superintending +and directing the Dinner, and therefore while I can get any of my acquaintance +to marry for me, I shall never think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect +that I should not have so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for +dressing that of my freinds. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yours sincerely<br/> +C. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0023"></a> +LETTER the FIFTH<br/> +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley-Castle March 18th +</p> + +<p> +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received one +from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us that he should +do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us on the following +evening. This as you may suppose considerably surprised us, particularly as +your account of her Ladyship had given us reason to imagine there was little +chance of her visiting Scotland at a time that London must be so gay. As it was +our business however to be delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit +from Sir George and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer +expressive of the happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when +luckily recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it +would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left Edinburgh, we +contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we were as happy as we +ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the following day, they came, +accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. Her Ladyship perfectly answers the +description you sent me of her, except that I do not think her so pretty as you +seem to consider her. She has not a bad face, but there is something so +extremely unmajestic in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in +comparison with the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant +Dwarf. Her curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more +than four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins to +mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. We cannot +refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of our Father, and +thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is certainly one of the most +pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not yet determined when we are to go, +but when ever we do we shall certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my +dear Charlotte; Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours +ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0024"></a> +LETTER the SIXTH<br/> +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley-Castle March 20th +</p> + +<p> +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already heartily +repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square for such a dismal +old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no idea sufficiently hideous, +of its dungeon-like form. It is actually perched upon a Rock to appearance so +totally inaccessible, that I expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and +sincerely repented having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the +expence of being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a +manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside of this +tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having my spirits +revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the Miss Lesleys had +been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, I met with nothing but +Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, +out of the way, over-grown, girls, just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle +almost as large in comparison as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you +could but behold these Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of +your wits. They will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. Besides +these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who I beleive is +some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave me a long rigmerole +story of her father and a Miss <i>Somebody</i> which I have entirely forgot. I +hate scandal and detest Children. I have been plagued ever since I came here +with tiresome visits from a parcel of Scotch wretches, with terrible +hard-names; they were so civil, gave me so many invitations, and talked of +coming again so soon, that I could not help affronting them. I suppose I shall +not see them any more, and yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do +not know what to do with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no +Drawings but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett with a +great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there is not a +creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have just had a +conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly offended me, and which as +I have nothing more entertaining to send you I will gave you the particulars +of. You must know that I have for these 4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected +William of entertaining a partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that +had <i>I</i> been inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have +made choice of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is +nothing I hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for +some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a very +great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to see him +unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry Matilda, as moreover +I know that his circumstances will not allow him to marry any one without a +fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely dependant on her Father, who will +neither have his own inclination nor my permission to give her anything at +present, I thought it would be doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let +him know as much, in order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer +his passion, or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone +with him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause to +him in the following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I do +not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me partial to +the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They are indeed so +very like Sir George that it is natural to think”— +</p> + +<p> +“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do not +really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is so very +plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I was +speaking—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.” +</p> + +<p> +“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband so +deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see any +resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion perfectly +unlike him and perfectly Handsome.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and very +handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is very +plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he). +</p> + +<p> +“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about <i>his</i> Beauty, but +your opinion of his <i>Daughters</i> is surely very singular, for if I +understood you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected +to do!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, do <i>you</i> find them plainer then?” (said I). +</p> + +<p> +“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak of +their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss Lesleys +are two very handsome young Women?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!” +</p> + +<p> +“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why what +single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly find fault +with?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I +could when I said it, in order to shame him). +</p> + +<p> +“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!” +</p> + +<p> +“They are <i>taller</i> than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy +smile.) +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, +their figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never could +strain my neck enough to look at them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in not +attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their Lustre.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure you +my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given me just +cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he said) “You +must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have offended you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least surprised at +your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these girls.”— +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet concluded +our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with their +complexion?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are so horridly pale.” +</p> + +<p> +“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of the +world, they will never be able raise more than their common stock—except +indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down these horrid old +galleries and Antichambers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they <i>have</i> but little colour, at least, it is +all their own.” +</p> + +<p> +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the impudence +by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. But you I am sure +will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it so cruelly aspersed, for +you can witness how often I have protested against wearing Rouge, and how much +I always told you I disliked it. And I assure you that my opinions are still +the same.—. Well, not bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left +the room immediately, and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing +to you. What a long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to +receive such from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that +one has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much +vexed by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to +stay and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I am now +so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, that I am +certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I shall there fore give +myself no more trouble either about him or his favourite. Adeiu my dear +girl— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yrs affectionately Susan L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0025"></a> +LETTER the SEVENTH<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</h2> + +<p> +Bristol the 27th of March +</p> + +<p> +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this week which +have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are both downright +jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two pretty Women tho’ +actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same House without falling out +about their faces. Do be convinced that you are both perfectly handsome and say +no more of the Matter. I suppose this letter must be directed to Portman Square +where probably (great as is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be +sorry to find yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields +and the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must be +very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my Mother’s +income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during Winter. I always +longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether the cold Beef there is +cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly suspicion that few people +understand the art of cutting a slice of cold Beef so well as I do: nay it +would be hard if I did not know something of the Matter, for it was a part of +my Education that I took by far the most pains with. Mama always found me +<i>her</i> best scholar, tho’ when Papa was alive Eloisa was <i>his</i>. +Never to be sure were there two more different Dispositions in the World. We +both loved Reading. <i>She</i> preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved +drawing, Pictures, and I drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than +she, and no one make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued +since we have been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes +on the superior excellence of our Employments <i>then</i> so frequent are now +no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to admire each +other’s works; I never fail listening to <i>her</i> Music, and she is as +constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till Henry Hervey made +his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his Aunt in our neighbourhood +where she established herself you know about a twelvemonth ago, his visits to +her had been at stated times, and of equal and settled Duration; but on her +removal to the Hall which is within a walk from our House, they became both +more frequent and longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs +Diana who is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum +and Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and Good-breeding. +Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour that I have often heard +her give such hints of it before his face that had not Henry at such times been +engaged in conversation with Eloisa, they must have caught his Attention and +have very much distressed him. The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I +have before hinted at, now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of +admiring each others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ +I constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even a +pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of approbation. +This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; however, I was as cool +as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and concerted a scheme of Revenge, +I was determined to let her have her own way and not even to make her a single +reproach. My scheme was to treat her as she treated me, and tho’ she +might even draw my own Picture or play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever +really liked) not to say so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ +I had for many years constantly hollowed whenever she played, <i>Bravo</i>, +<i>Bravissimo</i>, <i>her</i>, <i>Da capo</i>, <i>allegretto con +expressione</i>, and <i>Poco presto</i> with many other such outlandish words, +all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my Admiration; and so indeed I +suppose they are, as I see some of them in every Page of every Music book, +being the sentiments I imagine of the composer. +</p> + +<p> +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for alas! my +silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease her; on the +contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I am very glad +to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous custom of applauding my +Execution on the Harpsichord till you made <i>my</i> head ake, and yourself +hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for keeping your admiration to +yourself.” I never shall forget the very witty answer I made to this +speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be quite at your Ease with +respect to all such fears in future, for be assured that I shall always keep my +admiration to myself and my own pursuits and never extend it to yours.” +This was the only very severe thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have +often felt myself extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my +feelings public. +</p> + +<p> +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection for +each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for Miss Burton +could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You may imagine +therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him play her such a +trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with undiminished constancy, +notwithstanding he has been dead more than six weeks; but some People mind such +things more than others. The ill state of Health into which his loss has thrown +her makes her so weak, and so unable to support the least exertion, that she +has been in tears all this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. +Marlowe who with her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this +morning. I am sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom +we have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure Eloisa +and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and have therefore +contracted a kind of affection for each other, which does not make Tears so +inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The Marlowes are going to Town; +Cliveland accompanies them; as neither Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you +or Matilda may have better Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, +Eloisa’s spirits are so low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is +certainly by no means mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope +determine our Measures—in the mean time believe me +</p> + +<p class="right"> +and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0026"></a> +LETTER the EIGHTH<br/> +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE</h2> + +<p> +Bristol April 4th +</p> + +<p> +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of your +affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you made me of our +Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great releif to me to write to +you and as long as my Health and Spirits will allow me, you will find me a very +constant correspondent; I will not say an entertaining one, for you know my +situation suffciently not to be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and +I know my own Heart too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You +must not expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least +acquainted, or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from hearing or +inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the melancholy +effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the Happiness it once +enjoyed and which ill supports its present wretchedness. The Possibility of +being able to write, to speak, to you of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, +and your goodness will not I know refuse to read what it will so much releive +my Heart to write. I once thought that to have what is in general called a +Freind (I mean one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than +to any other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my +wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by two +confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of one to me, and +I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I say that to have some +kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to my sorrows without +endeavouring to console me was what I had for some time wished for, when our +acquaintance with you, the intimacy which followed it and the particular +affectionate attention you paid me almost from the first, caused me to +entertain the flattering Idea of those attentions being improved on a closer +acquaintance into a Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you +would be the greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that +such Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is now +almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid that +I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off writing, and I +cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you than by acting, as I +know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or Present. I am my dear Emmas +sincere freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0027"></a> +LETTER the NINTH<br/> +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Grosvenor Street, April 10th +</p> + +<p> +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot give a +greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the Desire I feel that +our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than by setting you so good an +example as I now do in answering it before the end of the week—. But do +not imagine that I claim any merit in being so punctual; on the contrary I +assure you, that it is a far greater Gratification to me to write to you, than +to spend the Evening either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous +of my appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like +to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, that +independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion of my Time to +my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a letter to write of +spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you know me well enough to be +sensible, will of itself be a sufficient Inducement (if one is necessary) to my +maintaining with Pleasure a Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your +letters to me, whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally +interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of your own +sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will only encourage and +increase them, and that it will be more prudent in you to avoid so sad a +subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing and melancholy Pleasure it +must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself to deny you so great an Indulgence, +and will only insist on your not expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own +letters; on the contrary I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and +enlivening Humour as shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull +countenance of my Eloisa. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three freinds +Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have been here. I know +you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the Beauty of three Ladies of whom +you have heard so much. Now, as you are too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I +think I may venture to inform you that I like none of their faces so well as I +do your own. Yet they are all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen +before; her Daughters I beleive would in general be said to have a finer face +than her Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a +little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which she is +superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself as many admirers +as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. I am sure you will agree +with me in saying that they can none of them be of a proper size for real +Beauty, when you know that two of them are taller and the other shorter than +ourselves. In spite of this Defect (or rather by reason of it) there is +something very noble and majestic in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and +something agreably lively in the appearance of their pretty little +Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may be majestic and the other lively, yet the +faces of neither possess that Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her +present languor is so far from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother +say of us, if they knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this +letter. It is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by +any one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either +her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more amiable are +women in that particular! One man may say forty civil things to another without +our supposing that he is ever paid for it, and provided he does his Duty by our +sex, we care not how Polite he is to his own. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, my Love, +and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and Spirits that can +be offered by her affectionate Freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. Marlowe. +</p> + +<p> +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the witty +way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when I assure you +that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0028"></a> +LETTER the TENTH<br/> +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Portman Square April 13th +</p> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> C<small>HARLOTTE</small> +</p> + +<p> +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in London +after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding your Letter here +waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I +every day more regret the serene and tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have +left, in exchange for the uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted +City. Not that I will pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal +Amusements are in the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy +them extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that every +appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those unhappy Beings +whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is out of my power to +return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my sensibility for the sufferings of +so many amiable young Men, my Dislike of the extreme admiration I meet with, +and my aversion to being so celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, +and in Printshops, that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the +Amusements so various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I +possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as +inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as yours! But +ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I have had the +small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. +</p> + +<p> +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has long +disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to require the +most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night Matilda and I +accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs Kickabout’s; we +were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable young Man in the main, +tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He is in love with +Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the Lady of the House +and curtseyed to half a score different people when my Attention was attracted +by the appearance of a Young Man the most lovely of his Sex, who at that moment +entered the Room with another Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I +beheld him, I was certain that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. +Imagine my surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of +Cleveland—I instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and +the acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the gentleman +and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) The +elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners and Delightful Bow, at +once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; but I can imagine everything he +would have said, had he opened his Mouth. I can picture to myself the +cultivated Understanding, the Noble sentiments, and elegant Language which +would have shone so conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The +approach of Sir James Gower (one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the +Discovery of any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never +commenced, and by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are +the accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! Sir +James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost always of our +Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no Cleveland—he +is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues me to Death every time +I see her by her tiresome Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! +I live in the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going +to Lady Flambeaus, who is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be +Lady Lesley, Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of +Sir George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune where +art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes her appearance +(highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful Jewels will she be decked +in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I wonder how she can herself +delight in wearing them; surely she must be sensible of the ridiculous +impropriety of loading her little diminutive figure with such superfluous +ornaments; is it possible that she can not know how greatly superior an elegant +simplicity is to the most studied apparel? Would she but Present them to +Matilda and me, how greatly should we be obliged to her, How becoming would +Diamonds be on our fine majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an +Idea should never have occurred to <i>her</i>. I am sure if I have reflected in +this manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s Jewels +too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me entertain +you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this morning from +Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he is at Naples has +turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s Bulls for annulling his +1st Marriage and has since actually married a Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and +Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the same sort of affair has befallen +his first wife the worthless Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned +Roman-catholic, and is soon to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and +Distinguished merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have +quite forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good Neighbours. +He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and to bring him his +little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and himself are equally +desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his invitation, it is at Present +very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to go without loss of time; Fitzgerald +offers to escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such +a scheme—she owns it would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the +Fellow. My Father desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few +months both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending us. +Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the Amusements +of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our Brother. “No +(says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been fool enough to travel +I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and I found it did +not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am so foolish again.” So says her +Ladyship, but Sir George still Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or +two, they may accompany us. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte<br/> +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0029"></a> +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND</h2> + +<h3>FROM<br/> +THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH<br/> +TO<br/> +THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST</h3> + +<p class="center"> +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by +</p> + +<p class="right"> +THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p> +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 4th +</p> + +<p> +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own satisfaction in +the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and predecessor Richard the +2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the rest of his life to Pomfret +Castle, where he happened to be murdered. It is to be supposed that Henry was +married, since he had certainly four sons, but it is not in my power to inform +the Reader who was his wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but +falling ill, his son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; +whereupon the King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to +Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being thus +settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son Henry who had +previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 5th +</p> + +<p> +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and amiable, +forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing Sir William again. +During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I forget what for. His +Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where he went and fought the famous +Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards married the King’s daughter Catherine, +a very agreable woman by Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this +however he died, and was succeeded by his son Henry. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 6th +</p> + +<p> +I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him and the +Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had better read some +other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in this, meaning by it only to +vent my spleen <i>against</i>, and shew my Hatred <i>to</i> all those people +whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not to give information. +This King married Margaret of Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes +were so great as almost to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign +that Joan of Arc lived and made such a <i>row</i> among the English. They +should not have burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles +between the Yorkists and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) +usually conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was +murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the +Throne. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 4th +</p> + +<p> +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which the +Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in marrying one +Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient proofs. His Wife was +Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was afterwards confined in a +Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and Avarice Henry the 7th. One of +Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has had a play written about her, +but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth reading. Having performed all these +noble actions, his Majesty died, and was succeeded by his son. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 5th +</p> + +<p> +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to draw his +picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose name was +Richard the 3rd. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +RICHARD the 3rd +</p> + +<p> +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated by +Historians, but as he was a <i>York</i>, I am rather inclined to suppose him a +very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted that he killed +his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been declared that he did +<i>not</i> kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to beleive true; and if +this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he did not kill his Wife, for if +Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the +Widow of Richard. Whether innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, +for Henry Tudor E. of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great +fuss about getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of +Bosworth, he succeeded to it. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 7th +</p> + +<p> +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of York, +by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right inferior to +hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage he had two sons +and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was married to the King of +Scotland and had the happiness of being grandmother to one of the first +Characters in the World. But of <i>her</i>, I shall have occasion to speak more +at large in future. The youngest, Mary, married first the King of France and +secondly the D. of Suffolk, by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother +of Lady Jane Grey, who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of +Scots, was yet an amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other +people were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck +and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former of whom +was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was beheaded with +the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His +Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit was his not +being <i>quite</i> so bad as his daughter Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 8th +</p> + +<p> +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were not as +well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I am myself. +It will therefore be saving <i>them</i> the task of reading again what they +have read before, and <i>myself</i> the trouble of writing what I do not +perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the principal Events +which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked Cardinal Wolsey’s +telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he was come to lay his +bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and the King’s +riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is however but +Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was entirely innocent +of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which her Beauty, her +Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not to mention her +solemn Protestations of Innocence, the weakness of the Charges against her, and +the King’s Character; all of which add some confirmation, tho’ +perhaps but slight ones when in comparison with those before alledged in her +favour. Tho’ I do not profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper +to give some and shall of course make choice of those which it is most +necessary for the Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her +letter to the King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of +this Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has +fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his +abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous depredations of +time has been of infinite use to the landscape of England in general, which +probably was a principal motive for his doing it, since otherwise why should a +Man who was of no Religion himself be at so much trouble to abolish one which +had for ages been established in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was +the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice who, tho’ universally acquitted of the +crimes for which she was beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led +an abandoned life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, +since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the +Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The Kings +last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected it. He was +succeeded by his only son Edward. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 6th +</p> + +<p> +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s death, +he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the late King +happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the Duke of +Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. This Man was on +the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat of a favourite with me, +tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that he was equal to those +first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or Gilpin. He was beheaded, of +which he might with reason have been proud, had he known that such was the +death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as it was impossible that he should be +conscious of what had never happened, it does not appear that he felt +particularly delighted with the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of +Northumberland had the care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his +trust of both so well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his +daughter in law the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading +Greek. Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was always +rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, she preserved the +same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what was generally esteemed +pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she declared herself displeased +with being appointed Queen, and while conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a +sentence in Latin and another in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband +accidentally passing that way. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +MARY +</p> + +<p> +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of England, in +spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her Cousins Mary Queen +of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the Kingdom for the misfortunes they +experienced during her Reign, since they fully deserved them, for having +allowed her to succeed her Brother—which was a double peice of folly, +since they might have foreseen that as she died without children, she would be +succeeded by that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many +were the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her reign; I +suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of Spain who in her +sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She died without issue, +and then the dreadful moment came in which the destroyer of all comfort, the +deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in her, and the Murderess of her Cousin +succeeded to the Throne.—— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +ELIZABETH +</p> + +<p> +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad Ministers—Since +wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed such extensive +mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived at, and encouraged her +in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people been asserted and beleived +that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the rest of those who filled +the cheif offices of State were deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But +oh! how blinded such writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit +despised, neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their Country +and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining for the space of +nineteen years, a <i>Woman</i> who if the claims of Relationship and Merit were +of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who condescended to place confidence in +her, had every reason to expect assistance and protection; and at length in +allowing Elizabeth to bring this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and +scandalous Death. Can any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, +this everlasting blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any +praise to Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this +bewitching Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose +only ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was abandoned +by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and vilified by all, +what must not her most noble mind have suffered when informed that Elizabeth +had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it with a most unshaken fortitude, +firm in her mind; constant in her Religion; and prepared herself to meet the +cruel fate to which she was doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed +from conscious Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible +that some hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much credit? +But this is a striking proof of <i>their</i> narrow souls and prejudiced +Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great Hall at Fortheringay +Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of February 1586—to the +everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of England in general. It +may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude my account of this ill-fated +Queen, to observe that she had been accused of several crimes during the time +of her reigning in Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader +that she was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, her +Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely done away +every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in the Reader’s +mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I shall proceed to +mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s reign. It was about +this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator who sailed round +the World, lived, to be the ornament of his Country and his profession. Yet +great as he was, and justly celebrated as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing +that he will be equalled in this or the next Century by one who tho’ now +but young, already promises to answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations +of his Relations and Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom +this work is dedicated, and my no less amiable self. +</p> + +<p> +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of Life, +yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an <i>Earl</i>, as Drake was in +that of a <i>Sailor</i>, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This unfortunate young +Man was not unlike in character to that equally unfortunate one <i>Frederic +Delamere</i>. The simile may be carried still farther, and Elizabeth the +torment of Essex may be compared to the Emmeline of Delamere. It would be +endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble and gallant Earl. It is +sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been +Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and +after performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long +survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to the +memory of Mary I should pity her. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +JAMES the 1st +</p> + +<p> +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most principal, was +his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the whole I cannot +help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several Children; +fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before his father or he +might have experienced the evils which befell his unfortunate Brother. +</p> + +<p> +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with infinite +regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member of it: yet Truth +being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am necessitated to say that in +this reign the roman Catholics of England did not behave like Gentlemen to the +protestants. Their Behaviour indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of +Parliament might justly be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir +Henry Percy tho’ certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of +that general politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions +were entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is by many +people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an enemy of the +noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and must refer all those +who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars of his life, to Mr +Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find many interesting +anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir Christopher Hatton.—His +Majesty was of that amiable disposition which inclines to Freindship, and in +such points was possessed of a keener penetration in discovering Merit than +many other people. I once heard an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the +subject I am now on reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some +amusement to <i>find it out</i>, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it +to them. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SHARADE +</p> + +<p> +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on my +whole. +</p> + +<p> +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards created +Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in the above +mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of Buckingham. On his +Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +CHARLES the 1st +</p> + +<p> +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to those of +his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve since he was her +descendant. Never certainly were there before so many detestable Characters at +one time in England as in this Period of its History; never were amiable men so +scarce. The number of them throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to +<i>five</i>, besides the inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their +King and faithful to his interests. The names of this noble five who never +forgot the duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his +Majesty, were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own +support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. While the +<i>villains</i> of the time would make too long a list to be written or read; I +shall therefore content myself with mentioning the leaders of the Gang. +Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be considered as the original Causers +of all the disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which England for many +years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am +obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally +guilty with the generality of the English, since they dared to think +differently from their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as +<i>Stuarts</i> it was their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and +imprison the unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too numerous +for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what I make myself) is +uninteresting to me; my principal reason for undertaking the History of England +being to Prove the innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself +with having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather +fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme.—As +therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the +distresses into which this King was involved through the misconduct and Cruelty +of his Parliament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him from the +Reproach of Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he has often been +charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am +certain of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions +have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that +he was a STUART. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +F<small>INIS</small> +</p> + +<p> +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0030"></a> +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0031"></a> +To Miss COOPER</h2> + +<p> +C<small>OUSIN</small> +</p> + +<p> +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every Clime in +Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I Commend to your +Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious Comments, which have +been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by your Comical Cousin +</p> + +<p class="right"> +The Author +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0033"></a> +LETTER the FIRST<br/> +From a MOTHER to her FREIND.</h2> + +<p> +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner from that +in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now arrived at that age +when it is necessary for them in some measure to become conversant with the +World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I +flatter myself that their education has been such as will not disgrace their +appearance in the World, and that <i>they</i> will not disgrace their Education +I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible +yet unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As +their progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am +willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together into +Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first <i>entrée</i> into Life, +as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad that we are to +meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward for them to enter too +wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall proceed by +degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, and +perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay +Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we +have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at Sir John +Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the +Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How they +will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I have no +fear, I only dread their health. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls <i>are out</i>. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove to the +door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they were seated thus +addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now arrived when I am to +reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours towards you during your +Education. You are this Evening to enter a World in which you will meet with +many wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn you against suffering yourselves to be +meanly swayed by the Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved +Children that if you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both +assured me that they would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow +it with attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to +amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would never give +me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had presided over their +infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such expectations and +such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you—and can +chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of your being seduced +by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. Come, then my Children (added +I) the Carriage is driving to the door, and I will not a moment delay the +happiness you are so impatient to enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, +poor Augusta could scarcely breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. +“The long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be +in the World.”—In a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s +parlour, where with her daughter she sate ready to receive us. I observed with +delight the impression my Children made on them—. They were indeed two +sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the +peculiarity of their situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and +address which could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how +delighted I must have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed +every object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in raptures +with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yrs Ever—A. F. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0034"></a> +LETTER the SECOND<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind</h2> + +<p> +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why should I +feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have experienced +before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for Willoughby than I had for +his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our feelings become more acute from +being often wounded? I must suppose my dear Belle that this is the Case, since +I am not conscious of being more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to +Neville, Fitzowen, or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the +most lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then +dear Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I weep +when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My Freinds are +all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they lament my want of +spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of releiving my melancholy, +by directing my thoughts to other objects, they have invited several of their +freinds to spend the Christmas with us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her +sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s +family will be with us next week. This is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and +Cousins; but what can the presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but +weary and distress me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our +Visitors are arrived. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet sister +Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming Woman +above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she is. She is now +about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is more blooming than I +ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, the moment she entered the +house, and she appeared equally pleased with me, attaching herself to me during +the remainder of the day. There is something so sweet, so mild in her +Countenance, that she seems more than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching +as her appearance; I could not help telling her how much she engaged my +admiration—. “Oh! Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an +inability at the moment of expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss +Jane—(I repeated)—I could not think of words to suit my +feelings—She seemed waiting for my speech—. I was +confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I could +only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my +Embarrassment and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by +saying—“My dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed +yourself—I will turn the Conversation without appearing to notice it. +“Oh! how I loved her for her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you +used to do?” said she—. “I am advised to ride by my +Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I have a Charming horse, am +uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I quite recovered from my Confusion, +and in short I ride a great deal.” “You are in the right my +Love,” said she. Then repeating the following line which was an extempore +and equally adapted to recommend both Riding and Candour— +</p> + +<p> +“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” +<i>I</i> rode once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and +tremulous a Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking +I could make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes +on my face, since I was married.” I was never so +surprised—“Married, Ma’am!” I repeated. “You may +well wear that look of astonishment, said she, since what I have said must +appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is more true than that I once was +married.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” +</p> + +<p> +“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret from him +and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might offer of revealing +it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon given in the death of my +dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears, continued Miss Jane wiping her +Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory. He fell my Sophia, while +fighting for his Country in America after a most happy Union of seven +years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a Girl, who had constantly +resided with my Father and me, passing with him and with every one as the +Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever been an only Child) had as yet +been the comforts of my Life. But no sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these +sweet Creatures fell sick and died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my +feelings must have been when as an Aunt I attended my Children to their early +Grave—. My Father did not survive them many weeks—He died, poor +Good old man, happily ignorant to his last hour of my Marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s +death?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself are the +only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been either Wife or +Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the name of Dashwood (a name +which after my Henry’s death I could never hear without emotion) and as I +was conscious of having no right to that of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of +either, and have made it a point of bearing only my Christian one since my +Father’s death.” She paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane +(said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so entertaining a story! You +cannot think how it has diverted me! But have you quite done?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, and as we +had always loved each other in idea from the high Character in which we had +ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we determined to live together. +We wrote to one another on the same subject by the same post, so exactly did +our feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we +gave and received of becoming one family, and have from that time lived +together in the greatest affection.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for +when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to +hear of equal misery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but my Sophia why <i>are you</i> unhappy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?” +</p> + +<p> +“But my love why lament <i>his</i> perfidy, when you bore so well that of +many young Men before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0035"></a> +LETTER the THIRD<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind</h2> + +<p> +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my Mother +never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who did me the +honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to sit forwards, which +is a favour about which I am very indifferent especially as I know it is +considered as confering a great obligation on me “So Miss Maria (said her +Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the Carriage) you seem very +smart to night—<i>My</i> poor Girls will appear quite to disadvantage by +<i>you</i>—I only hope your Mother may not have distressed herself to +set <i>you</i> off. Have you got a new Gown on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could +assume. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission +I seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, +for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a needless piece +of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped one? It is not my +way to find fault with People because they are poor, for I always think that +they are more to be despised and pitied than blamed for it, especially if they +cannot help it, but at the same time I must say that in my opinion your old +striped Gown would have been quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell +you the truth (I always speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of +the people in the room will not know whether you have a Gown on or +not—But I suppose you intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, +the sooner the better; and I wish you success.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—” +</p> + +<p> +“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” +Miss Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. +</p> + +<p> +“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her +Ladyship. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” +“Bread and Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a +better supper.” said Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her +Mother, as a better is always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed +excessively, as she constantly does at her Mother’s wit. +</p> + +<p> +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while riding +in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother is +always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my way in the +world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady Greville, or you +may be certain that I would never enter either her House, or her Coach with the +disagreable certainty I always have of being abused for my Poverty while I am +in them.—When we arrived at Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, +which was an hour and a half later than we were desired to be there; but Lady +Greville is too fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The +Dancing however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just as we +were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got his white +Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean time the Dancing +began and Lady Greville in passing to another room went exactly before +me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though there were +several people close to us, +</p> + +<p> +“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I +am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; perhaps you +may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she passed on +without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and leaving me very +much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr Bernard however +soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered the room, and leading +me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared from the imputation Lady +Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all the old Ladies who had heard her +speech. I soon forgot all my vexations in the pleasure of dancing and of having +the most agreable partner in the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large +Estate I could see that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she +found who had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and +accordingly when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with +<i>more</i> than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said +loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss Maria +in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I cannot agree +whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she wanted to +mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent her seeing that her +scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant.” +“Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not +he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he +abscond?” “I never heard that he did.” “At least he +died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” “Why, +was not your <i>Father</i> as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” +“Was not he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him +there.” She gave me <i>such</i> a look, and turned away in a great +passion; while I was half delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half +afraid of being thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with +me, she took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in +favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a Party of +great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss +Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen preferred +staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady +G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable ride. +</p> + +<p> +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at the +door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it should. She sent +in a message by the servant to say that “she should not get out but that +Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she wanted to speak to her, and that +she must make haste and come immediately—” “What an +impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—” +replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her +Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold. +</p> + +<p> +“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that you +may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do not +come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine +for I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an +umbrella—” I could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me +leave to keep myself dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I +shant wait—I hate my Victuals over-done—But you need not come +before the time—How does your Mother do? She is at dinner is not +she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the middle of dinner when your +Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it very cold Maria.” +said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said her +Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are +used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made your +Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride in a +Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind shews your +legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do in such a day as +this. But some sort of people have no feelings either of cold or +Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on Thursday at 5 +o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at +night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk +home—My compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be +cold—Drive on—” And away she went, leaving me in a great +passion with her as she always does. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Maria Williams. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0036"></a> +LETTER the FOURTH<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind</h2> + +<p> +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very agreable +looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her appearance, for added +to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and voice had something +peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that they inspired me with a great +curiosity to know the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she came +from, and what had befallen her, for it was then only known that she was a +relation of Mr Evelyn, and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a +favourable opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I +wished to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr +Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a +whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of necessity +obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and being determined +not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversation in the +following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?” +</p> + +<p> +“I arrived on Tuesday.” +</p> + +<p> +“You came from Derbyshire?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from +Suffolk.” You will think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you +know that I am not wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. +“Are you pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to +the one you have left?” +</p> + +<p> +“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I +longed to know for why. +</p> + +<p> +“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a poor +consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much raised, +that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. +</p> + +<p> +“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed +I do.” “You were born there I suppose?” “Yes +Ma’am I was and passed many happy years there—” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you +never spent any <i>un</i>happy one’s there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right +to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—<i>Some</i> Misfortunes I have +certainly met with.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>What</i> Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with +impatience to know every thing. “<i>None</i> Ma’am I hope that have +been the effect of any wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not +Ma’am, and have no doubt but that any sufferings you may have experienced +could arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors of +Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem unhappy my dear Miss +Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?” +“<i>Your</i> power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it is in +<i>no ones</i> power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in so +mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. +I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few moments and +looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear Miss Grenville +said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably stand in need of some +one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps +superior Judgement might authorise her to give it. I am that person, and I now +challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and Freindship, +in return to which I shall only ask for yours—” +</p> + +<p> +“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am +highly flattered by your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no +doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever +I am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall know +where to apply.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still however I had +not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of sentiment and +Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to renew my +attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you intend staying long in +this part of England Miss Grenville?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I +did not expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my +Life—. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0037"></a> +LETTER the FIFTH<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind</h2> + +<p> +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love every +day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I had this +morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my dear Musgrove. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Sackville St: Janry 7th +</p> + +<p> +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely +Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner +becoming the day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when +her Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase +it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live +within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first entered +the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was like the sight ofa +wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with admiration—She +appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate Musgrove became a +captive to your Charms before I had time to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the +happiness of adoring you, an happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. +“What said he to himself is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? +Enviable Mortal! and may he pine for her who is the object of universal +admiration, who is adored by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable +Henrietta how beautiful you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more +than Mortal. You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are +the prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in +her Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And +ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for the +death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair one will +not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in affluence above +what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an improvable Estate—. +Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I am at Present with my sister +where I mean to continue till my own house which tho’ an excellent one is +at Present somewhat out of repair, is ready to receive me. Amiable princess of +my Heart farewell—Of that Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your +most ardent Admirer and devoted humble servt. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +T. Musgrove. +</p> + +<p> +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a +master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of Thought, +such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? No, never I can +answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with by every Girl. Oh! how I +long to be with him! I intend to send him the following in answer to his Letter +tomorrow. +</p> + +<p> +My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made me; +I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than any body in +the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest Man in England, and +so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a Letter in my Life. Do write me +another just like it, and tell me you are in love with me in every other line. +I quite die to see you. How shall we manage to see one another? for we are so +much in love that we cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think +how impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will +not Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every +day of my Life. +</p> + +<p> +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her house, +and how happy every body in London must be because you are there. I hope you +will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never read such sweet +Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most truly and faithfully yours for +ever and ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Henrietta Halton. +</p> + +<p> +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write though +nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a Love-letter. I +saw him you know for the first time at Lady Scudamores—And when I saw her +Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I liked her Cousin Musgrove? +</p> + +<p> +“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love +with you from the first moment he beheld you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I would +give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first +sight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I +beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a contemptible +one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a great deal of the +World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.” +</p> + +<p> +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my conquest. +However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so I said to +her— +</p> + +<p> +“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who have no +fortune at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you can +be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to encourage your +marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a fortune with you. Mr +Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an estate of several hundreds an +year which is capable of great Improvement, and an excellent House, though at +Present it is not quite in repair.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, +and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good Love-letter, +I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for admiring me, tho’ +perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady Scudamore.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I am not +greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to yourself, cherishing a +most tender affection for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away my +head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why refuse to +confide in me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, that I +am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a handsome Man. If +he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be ashamed of a passion which +must have been mean since the object would have been unworthy. But with such a +figure and face, and such beautiful hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush +to own that such superior merit has made an impression on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a quick +discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such Noble +Sentiments!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady +Scudamore did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you +say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the invisible +power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so exactly coincide. Nay, +the colour of your Hair is not very different. Yes my dear Girl, the poor +despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the story of his Love—. Nor was I +surprised at it—I know not how it was, but I had a kind of presentiment +that he <i>would</i> be in love with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but how did he break it to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together +talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the Conversation was +cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, when on a sudden he +interrupted me in the midst of something I was saying, by exclaiming in a most +Theatrical tone— +</p> + +<p> +Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such a +couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are not in +rhime!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am very +sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, with a pretty +Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent House tho’ +somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with success to the adorable +Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel and been toasted by a +Baronet”—“<i>That</i> I have—” cried I. Lady +Scudamore continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced +of the little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, that +I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet surely neither +you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the exquisite Gratification of +dieing for her, of falling a victim to her Charms. And when I am +dead”—continued her— +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” +“When I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and +perhaps she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would not +for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. +</p> + +<p> +“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when I +feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to haste +such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta bless some +happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly attached to her as the +hapless Musgrove and while <i>he</i> crumbles to dust, May they live an example +of Felicity in the Conjugal state!” +</p> + +<p> +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be lain at my +feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have to be capable of +such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, must +melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; and could the +divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her happiness, all gentle as +is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she would pity your affection and +endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin answered he, do not endeavour +to raise my hopes by such flattering assurances. No, I cannot hope to please +this angel of a Woman, and the only thing which remains for me to do, is to +die.” “True Love is ever desponding replied I, but <i>I</i> my dear +Tom will give you even greater hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, +than I have yet given you, by assuring you that I watched her with the +strictest attention during the whole day, and could plainly discover that she +cherishes in her bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!” +</p> + +<p> +“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I to +him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might render the +pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid voice, +nothing will convince me that <i>I</i> can have touched the heart of Henrietta +Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt deceiving me.” +“In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me to Persuade the +poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference for him; but when at +last he could no longer deny the force of my arguments, or discredit what I +told him, his transports, his Raptures, his Extacies are beyond my power to +describe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my Uncle and +Aunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I told him every thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did he say.” +</p> + +<p> +“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by their +Nephews or Neices, and wished <i>he</i> were in the House of Commons, that he +might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta would +condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that splendor to which she +had been used, and accept only in exchange the Comforts and Elegancies which +his limited Income could afford her, even supposing that his house were in +Readiness to receive her. I told him that it could not be expected that she +would; it would be doing her an injustice to suppose her capable of giving up +the power she now possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to +the poorer part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you +and herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure said I, I <i>am</i> very Charitable every now and then. And +what did Mr Musgrove say to this?” +</p> + +<p> +“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the truth +of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy Creature destined +to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must bring himself to wait, +however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when she might be freed from the +power of worthless Relations and able to bestow herself on him.” +</p> + +<p> +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who am to +be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so adeiu my dear +freind, and beleive me yours etc— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. Halton. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>SCRAPS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN +</p> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> N<small>EICE</small> +</p> + +<p> +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon from +superintending your Education myself, the care of which will probably on that +account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it is my particular Duty to +Prevent your feeling as much as possible the want of my personal instructions, +by addressing to you on paper my Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of +Young Women, which you will find expressed in the following pages.— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +I am my dear Neice<br/> +Your affectionate Aunt<br/> +The Author. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0038"></a> +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER</h2> + +<h3>A LETTER</h3> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> L<small>OUISA</small> +</p> + +<p> +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath, whither he +is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him, but the eldest and +the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. Though you have often told me +that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome, you never mentioned anything of her +Sisters’ beauty; yet they are certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give +you their description.—Julia is eighteen; with a countenance in which +Modesty, Sense and Dignity are happily blended, she has a form which at once +presents you with Grace, Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen +is shorter than her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity +of Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way +as estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness the +most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She appears to +have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her conversation during the +half hour they set with us, was replete with humourous sallies, Bonmots and +repartees; while the sensible, the amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality +worthy of a heart like her own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I +had always received of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that +social Shake, and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old +and valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been +separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) that +many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which gave occasion +to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections on the many changes in +their situation which so long a period had occasioned, on the advantages of +some, and the disadvantages of others. From this subject she made a short +digression to the instability of human pleasures and the uncertainty of their +duration, which led her to observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She +was proceeding to illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great +Men when the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending five or +six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, and I assure +you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. “Louisa Clarke +(said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet sometimes her good humour is +clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. She neither wants Understanding or is +without some pretensions to Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the +value she sets on her personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be +offered are at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her +folly.” So said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the +concurrence of their own. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Your affectionate<br/> +Arabella Smythe. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0039"></a> +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY</h2> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Characters</i> +</p> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td>Popgun</td><td>Maria</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Charles</td><td>Pistolletta</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Postilion</td><td>Hostess</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Chorus of ploughboys</td><td>Cook</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>and</td><td>and</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Strephon</td><td>Chloe</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE—AN</small> I<small>NN</small> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Maria<br/> +If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Maria<br/> +Yes Mistress.—<i>exit</i> Maria +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Cook<br/> +If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Cook<br/> +I will, I will. <i>exit</i> Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Charles<br/> +If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Charles<br/> +Yes Madam. <i>exeunt</i> Severally. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE</small> M<small>OON</small>, and discovers Popgun +and Pistoletta. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Pistoletta<br/> +Pray papa how far is it to London? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Popgun<br/> +My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the picture of +thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am going to Town to marry +to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my whole Estate, it wants seven +Miles. + +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE</small> S<small>UN</small>— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Chloe<br/> +Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be +married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will sing +a song. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SONG +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I go to Town<br/> +And when I come down,<br/> +I shall be married to Streephon.*<br/> +And that to me will be fun. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[* Note the two e’s] +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Chorus +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Be fun, be fun, be fun,<br/> +And that to me will be fun. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Cook— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Cook<br/> +Here is the bill of fare. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Chloe reads<br/> +2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have the +leg of beef and the partridge. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Exit</i> Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +And now I will sing another song. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SONG +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I am going to have my dinner,<br/> +After which I shan’t be thinner,<br/> +I wish I had here Strephon<br/> +For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Chorus +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Tough one, tough one, tough one<br/> +For he would carve the partridge if it<br/> +Should be a tough one. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Exit</i> Chloe and Chorus.— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE</small> L<small>ION</small>. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Strephon and Postilion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Streph:)<br/> +You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to Town to +marry Chloe. How much is your due? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Post:<br/> +Eighteen pence. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Streph:<br/> +Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support myself in +Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I received from Chloe. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Post:<br/> +Sir, I accept your offer. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +E<small>ND OF THE FIRST</small> A<small>CT</small>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3> +<a name="link2H_4_0040"></a> +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her Judgement +led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart disapproved. +</h3> + +<p> +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved Ellinor, +and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that on a close +examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have strictly deserved them. I +murdered my father at a very early period of my Life, I have since murdered my +Mother, and I am now going to murder my Sister. I have changed my religion so +often that at present I have not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured +witness in every public tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my +own Will. In short there is scarcely a crime that I have not +committed—But I am now going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse +guards has paid his Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As +there is something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. +Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died immensely +rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice to his three +younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about eight Million to the +present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the Colonel lived tolerably +contented for nearly four months when he took it into his head to determine on +getting the whole of his eldest Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged +and the Colonel produced it in Court—but nobody would swear to it’s +being the right will except himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody +beleived him. At that moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, +and was beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready +to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply to me. +In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore to its’ +being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign all his +illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the next day with an +offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my Sister. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yours Ever,<br/> +Anna Parker. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0041"></a> +A TOUR THROUGH WALES—<br/> +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—</h2> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> C<small>LARA</small> +</p> + +<p> +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my power +to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last Monday +month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a principality +contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of Wales. We travelled +on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our little poney and Fanny and +I walked by her side or rather ran, for my Mother is so fond of riding fast +that she galloped all the way. You may be sure that we were in a fine +perspiration when we came to our place of resting. Fanny has taken a great many +Drawings of the Country, which are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such +exact resemblances as might be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. +It would astonish you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We +determined to take a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our +own besides those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both +capped and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone, +Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which we each +took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +I am your ever affectionate<br/> +Elizabeth Johnson. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0042"></a> +A TALE.</h2> + +<p> +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage in +Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested to him by +his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a Closet for him, +provided he would take a small house near the borders of an extensive Forest, +and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus gladly accepted the offer and +continued for some time searching after such a retreat when he was one morning +agreably releived from his suspence by reading this advertisement in a +Newspaper. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +T<small>O BE</small> L<small>ETT</small> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three Miles from +the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a Closet. +</p> + +<p> +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and shewed +him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him in his Carriage +to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for three days and six +nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest and following a track which +led by it’s side down a steep Hill over which ten Rivulets meandered, +they reached the Cottage in half an hour. Wilhelminus alighted, and after +knocking for some time without receiving any answer or hearing any one stir +within, he opened the door which was fastened only by a wooden latch and +entered a small room, which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that +were unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A +pair of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less +destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the House. He +was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the comfort of +reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything on furniture +himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took him the next +day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was requisite to furnish the +two rooms and the Closet, In a few days everything was completed, and +Wilhelminus returned to take possession of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied +him, with his Lady the amiable Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and +Marina to whom Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of +Attendants.—An ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in +endeavouring to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable +presence of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in +an open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was both +simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by four +sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and that happy +ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of Wilhelminus’s most +striking Virtues. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/1212-h/images/cover.jpg b/1212-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..02f2348 --- /dev/null +++ b/1212-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..137d672 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1212 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1212) diff --git a/old/1212-0.txt b/old/1212-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8deecea --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1212-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3722 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 *** + + + + +LOVE & FREINDSHIP +AND +OTHER EARLY WORKS + +A Collection of Juvenile Writings + +By Jane Austen + + +CONTENTS + + LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA + LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL + LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE + LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + LETTER the 9th From the same to the same + LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation + LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation. + + AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + LESLEY CASTLE + LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. + LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL + LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE + LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL + LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + To Miss COOPER + LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + + THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + + THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + + A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong + A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— + + A TALE. + + + + +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + + +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER +OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR. + + +“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.” + + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From ISABEL to LAURA + + +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my +Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your +Life, have you said “No, my freind never will I comply with your +request till I may be no longer in Danger of again experiencing such +dreadful ones.” + +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may +ever be said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of +disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, +surely it must be at such a time of Life. + +Isabel + + + + +LETTER 2nd +LAURA to ISABEL + + +Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already +experienced, yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I +will gratify the curiosity of your daughter; and may the fortitude with +which I have suffered the many afflictions of my past Life, prove to +her a useful lesson for the support of those which may befall her in +her own. + +Laura + + + + +LETTER 3rd +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited +me to give you. + +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother +was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I +was born in Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. + +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to +my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most +romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably +softened and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I +was once beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were +the least of my Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my +sex, I was Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always +exceeded my instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my +age, and I had shortly surpassed my Masters. + +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. + +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, +my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my +only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ +indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they +ever did, yet now I never feel for those of an other. My +accomplishments too, begin to fade—I can neither sing so well nor Dance +so gracefully as I once did—and I have entirely forgot the _Minuet Dela +Cour_. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 4th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She +may probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in +indigent Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical +motives. There it was our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then +one and twenty. Tho’ pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between +ourselves) she never possessed the hundredth part of my Beauty or +Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at +one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in +Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. + +“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities +and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the +unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.” + +“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be +exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the +Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of +Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an +humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske.” + +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble +Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 5th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were +arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden +greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the outward door +of our rustic Cot. + +My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It sounds like a +loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) “it does indeed.” (cried +I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it certainly does appear to +proceed from some uncommon violence exerted against our unoffending +door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help thinking it must be somebody +who knocks for admittance.” + +“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine +on what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone _does_ rap at the +door, I am partly convinced.” + +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and +somewhat alarmed my Mother and me. + +“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added my Father) by +all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my Mother,) “The sooner the +better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no time be lost” (cried I.) + +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) “I +think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the servants are +returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” “I’m glad of +it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it is.” + +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, +informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, +who had lossed their way, were very cold and begged leave to warm +themselves by our fire. + +“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no objection, my Dear?” +(said my Father.) “None in the World.” (replied my Mother.) + +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the +room and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable +Youth, I had ever beheld. The servant she kept to herself. + +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the +sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold +him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life +must depend. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 6th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us +that he was the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for +many years no more and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My +Father (he continued) is a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such +particular freinds as this Dear Party that I would thus betray his +failings. Your Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my +father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to +repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. “My Father seduced by the +false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, insisted on my +giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is +lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, that I +scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it +be said that I obliged my Father.” + +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. + +“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with +so spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of +wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have +been studying Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have +been beneath my dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful +William set forth for my Aunts.” + +“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in Middlesex, +and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to +have reached my Aunts.” + +“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without +knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the +bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a +single star was there to direct my steps, and I know not what might +have befallen me had I not at length discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom +that surrounded me a distant light, which as I approached it, I +discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. Impelled by the +combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold +and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have +gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when +may I hope to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have +undergone during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have +ever aspired. Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?” + +“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 7th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. +After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my +Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa +received us both with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival +was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as she had not only been +totally ignorant of my Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had +the slightest idea of there being such a person in the World. + +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I +found her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the +middle size. She received me with equal surprise though not with equal +Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and +Forbidding Reserve in her reception of me which was equally distressing +and Unexpected. None of that interesting Sensibility or amiable +simpathy in her manners and Address to me when we first met which +should have distinguished our introduction to each other. Her Language +was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were +neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to +her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine. + +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I +accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me +that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love than for +the endearing intercourse of Freindship. + +“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.) + +“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion +of me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to +consider my Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of +Consequence or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you +ever know me consult his inclinations or follow his Advice in the least +trifling Particular since the age of fifteen?” + +“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years +old, I entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the +satisfaction of your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions +of your being shortly obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by +seeking a support for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” + +“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?” + +“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” (answered +she.) + +“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for +an exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?” + +“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta). + +“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and +corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of +living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of +your tenderest affection?” + +“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however +you may in time be convinced that...” + +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the +Room at the Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her +announced by the Name of “Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post +and followed her into the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was +the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting +Baronet. + +Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, yet +I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. + +I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and tho’ +Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. + +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, +confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide +in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne +that I could not feel any ardent affection or very sincere Attachment +for Lady Dorothea. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 8th +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + + +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected +a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed +by Augusta of her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him +for having dared to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But +Edward foreseeing his design, approached him with heroic fortitude as +soon as he entered the Room, and addressed him in the following Manner. + +“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with the +base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of +my Father!” + +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta +were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led +me from the Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the +Door and in which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir +Edward. + +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London +road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them +to Drive to M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was +but a few miles distant. + +At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After +having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for +such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most +truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most +elegantly formed. A soft languor spread over her lovely features, but +increased their Beauty—. It was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She +was all sensibility and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and +after having exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our +Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our +Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by the +entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just returned from a +solitary ramble. + +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward +and Augustus. + +“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable angel!” +(replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. It was too +pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted alternately +on a sofa. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 9th +From the same to the same + + +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from +Philippa. + +“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken +back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your +charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such +dear and deserving Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I +trust you will return to the arms of your” + +“Philippa.” + + +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after +thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would +certainly avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other place +to go to. Tho’ certainly nothing could to any reasonable Being, have +appeared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply to her +invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was certainly capricious +enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few weeks after, +either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, married a +young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ we were +sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which +Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, +excite from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might +prove a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling +Sensibility was greatly affected when we were first informed of the +Event. The affectionate Entreaties of Augustus and Sophia that we would +for ever consider their House as our Home, easily prevailed on us to +determine never more to leave them. In the society of my Edward and +this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our time +was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and +in vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being +interrupted, by intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and +Sophia had on their first Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care +to inform the surrounding Families, that as their happiness centered +wholly in themselves, they wished for no other society. But alas! my +Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then enjoyed was too perfect to be +lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at once destroyed every +sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what I have +already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were +a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had +been contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; +who had vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them +into a Marriage with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a +Heroic Fortitude worthy to be related and admired, they had both, +constantly refused to submit to such despotic Power. + +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of +Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined +never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in the World, in so +doing, by accepting any proposals of reconciliation that might be +offered them by their Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble +independance however they never were exposed. + +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced +during which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum +of money which Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy +father’s Escritoire, a few days before his union with Sophia. + +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses +and would have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what +was their Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull +Augustus was arrested and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery +in the merciless perpetrators of the Deed will shock your gentle nature +Dearest Marianne as much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility +of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat +such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the +House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what we did! +We sighed and fainted on the sofa. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 10th +LAURA in continuation + + +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our +grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent +step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his +imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we +would, and he set forwards on his journey to Town. During his absence +we faithfully complied with his Desire and after the most mature +Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we could do was to +leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers of +Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the +result of our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we +count the tedious moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain +even did we sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too +unexpected a Blow to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we +could only faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was +Mistress of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for +Sophia and myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and we +instantly set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus was within +twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we arrived there, and no +sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of the Front +Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed “If +they had seen my Edward?” + +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated +Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. +“Where am I to drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth +(replied I), to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot +go to Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus +in so cruel a confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the +_recital_, of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my +Sensibility.” As I perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her +Sentiments the Postilion was instantly directed to return into the +Country. You may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest +Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any +support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have +remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of +Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a +trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never +mentioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is +the circumstance I allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull +Inheritress of their House and Fortune. But alas! the House had never +been their own and their Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own +Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have +returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to +her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the +remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had not +one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; +which was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of +Ireland. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 11th +LAURA in continuation + + +“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) +who I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order +the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself, +exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses.” +Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge of the +Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was +entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined +to change Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of +the Journey—. When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which +was but a few miles from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to +intrude our Society on him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very +elegant and well penned Note to him containing an account of our +Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of our intention to spend some +months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, +we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were stepping into +the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the +Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first +Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed +at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that +he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my +conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and +following the Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I +threw myself on my knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me +as his Grand Child. He started, and having attentively examined my +features, raised me from the Ground and throwing his Grandfatherly +arms around my Neck, exclaimed, “Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance +of my Laurina and Laurina’s Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my +Claudia’s Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and +the Grandaughter of the other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing +me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate Departure, entered the Room in +search of me. No sooner had she caught the eye of the venerable Peer, +than he exclaimed with every mark of Astonishment—“Another +Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the Daughter of my Laurina’s +eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently +proclaims it. “Oh! replied Sophia, when I first beheld you the +instinct of Nature whispered me that we were in some degree related—But +whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to +determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they were tenderly +embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull young +Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating +back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What +an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, +as many of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my +Laurina’s 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence +of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.” + +“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha +your Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the +House.” “None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without +farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and remember I +have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the Room and +immediately afterwards the House. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 12th +LAURA in continuation + + +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure +of Lord St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy +Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. How +long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we +found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the +Banknotes. As we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the +Apartment opened and “Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin. +The haste with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of +our Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to +pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he +little deserved the name—for though he told us that he was much +concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it appeared that +the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a single sigh, nor +induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive stars—. He told +Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with him to +Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy to +see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were +received with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and +the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally +well disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic +Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly +encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but unfortunately +her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted to admire so +promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his +power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail +on her to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They +were to be married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when +we arrived. _We_ soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man +as one might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he +was Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge +of such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had +never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least +resemblance to auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no +affection for him, or at least that she ought to feel none. The very +circumstance of his being her father’s choice too, was so much in his +disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in every other respect yet +_that_ of itself ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of +Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to +represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting with +the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors +in the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her +own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her +indeed all that our warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no +difficulty to convince her that it was impossible she could love +Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her Father; the only thing +at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion that she must +be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered in +declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the +smallest Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a +thing she said that she beleived she _did like_ Captain M’Kenrie better +than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after +having enumerated the good Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that +she was violently in love with him, we desired to know whether he had +ever in any wise declared his affection to her. + +“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that +he has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press +your hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” “Never +(replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room indeed when +his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly abruptly +or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a +moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose +that he could ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having +settled this Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into +consideration was, to determine in what manner we should inform +M’Kenrie of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at +length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter which +Sophia drew up in the following manner. + +“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +_her_ Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider +that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that +you may now entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her +father’s Cruelty to the execrable and detested Graham.” + +“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of +her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had +doubtless long possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once +secure the felicity of both.” + +The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had +been the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of +his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings +of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to +her who inspired it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia +and I experienced the satisfaction of seeing them depart for +Gretna-Green, which they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, +in preference to any other place although it was at a considerable +distance from Macdonald-Hall. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 13th +LAURA in continuation + + +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or +Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not +even then have suspected it, but for the following little Accident. +Sophia happening one day to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s +Library with one of her own keys, discovered that it was the Place +where he kept his Papers of consequence and amongst them some bank +notes of considerable amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and +having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a +Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly +gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us +happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from +the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often successfully put in +Execution; but alas! on the very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was +majestically removing the 5th Bank-note from the Drawer to her own +purse, she was suddenly most impertinently interrupted in her +employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and +precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness +could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on +the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore +her retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing +Macdonald, without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the +crime he was charged with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with +ignobly defrauding him of his money... The dignity of Sophia was +wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the +Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea +makes me blush?” The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to +upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language, that at +length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her Nature, as to +induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of Janetta’s +Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the affair. At +this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you may +imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of +the malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) +how canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless +reputation of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect _my_ +innocence as soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I _do_ suspect it, +and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less +than half an hour.” + +“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have +induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof.” + +“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully +exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled +Fortune-hunter.” (replied he) + +“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, +we have amply discharged every obligation that we have received from +her father.” + +“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted minds.” +(said he.) + +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left +Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate +down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted +limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms +sheltered us from the East—. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the +West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook and behind us ran the +turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and in a +Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had +for some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my +exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and Augustus +here to enjoy its Beauties with us?” + +“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear recalling +to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas, +what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he +is still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so +far to conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do +not I beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. +It affects me too deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it +wounds my feelings.” + +“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you—” replied +I—and then changing the conversation, desired her to admire the noble +Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! +my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a subject, I intreat you. +Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms. They +remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed +that noble grandeur which you admire in them.” + +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her +by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might again remind +her of Augustus. + +“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I +cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own +reflections; they ever recur to Augustus.” + +“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!” + +“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a +momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my +Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s +blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind +avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of +Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for +Augustus so poignant that I had not power to start any other topic, +justly fearing that it might in some unforseen manner again awaken all +her sensibility by directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be +silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. + +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly +apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the +road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as +it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections +which she had been before indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and +ran to the rescue of those who but a few moments before had been in so +elevated a situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now +laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What an ample subject for +reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that +Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!” said I +to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. + +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the +horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but +weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we +approached—they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they +were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed +and instantly ran mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our +senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of them +again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate +situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I running mad as often. At +length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of +life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that +either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif—but +as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we +knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No +sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and +kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He +fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.” + +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. + +“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested +and we were separated—” + +“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired—. Sophia +immediately sank again into a swoon—. _My_ greif was more audible. My +Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my face became as pale +as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—. + +“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in his +melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s Thunderbolts, avoid +the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of Firs—I see a Leg +of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but they deceived me—they +took him for a cucumber—” Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my +Edward’s Death—. For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not +then have left off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia +who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that +Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. “And +whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” “To that white +Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building which rose up amidst +the grove of Elms and which I had not before observed—) I agreed and we +instantly walked to it—we knocked at the door—it was opened by an old +woman; on being requested to afford us a Night’s Lodging, she informed +us that her House was but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but +that However we should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied +and followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly +cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and had +only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of ages; +but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing +therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to +possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined +Sensibilities—. She was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil +and obliging young woman; as such we could scarcely dislike here—she +was only an Object of Contempt—. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 14th +LAURA in continuation + + +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are +Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the +perusal of the following Pages your sensibility will be most severely +tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I had before experienced and which +I have already related to you, to the one I am now going to inform you +of. The Death of my Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost +more than my gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison to +the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after our +arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in her +delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake. She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the +Dew was falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably +the case; since how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should +have escaped the same indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily +Exertions I had undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so +effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against +the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive on +the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I was most +seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End +be fatal to her. + +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually +worse—and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was +obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy +Landlady—. Her disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few +days carried her off. Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent +you may suppose they were) I yet received some consolation in the +reflection of my having paid every attention to her, that could be +offered, in her illness. I had wept over her every Day—had bathed her +sweet face with my tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in +mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) +take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which +had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though at the time they +may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if +too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my +greif for the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. +Beware of swoons Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so +pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I +dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as +you chuse; but do not faint—” + +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing +Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to +it. + +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I +immediately (tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she +died, and near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not +walked many yards from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in +which I instantly took a place, determined to proceed in it to +Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some kind some pitying Freind who +would receive and comfort me in my afflictions. + +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish +the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they +were many. Regardless however of anything concerning them, I gave +myself up to my own sad Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A +silence, which was by nothing interrupted but by the loud and repeated +snores of one of the Party. + +“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) +What a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus +shock our senses by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be +capable of every bad action! There is no crime too black for such a +Character!” Thus reasoned I within myself, and doubtless such were the +reflections of my fellow travellers. + +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled +Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward +the father of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the +same seat with me were your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my +surprise at finding myself thus seated amongst my old Acquaintance. +Great as was my astonishment, it was yet increased, when on looking out +of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his +side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander +and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible +that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and +Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye +was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I +throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more +to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the +Vale of Usk, I was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had +then a Father and a Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now +deprived of every freind but you—” + +“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, (replied +I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory +in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.” + +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and +Sir Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole +melancholy affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of +Sir Edward and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, +by the unhappy tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them +every other misfortune which had befallen me since we parted. Of the +imprisonment of Augustus and the absence of Edward—of our arrival in +Scotland—of our unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our +cousins—of our visit to Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there +performed towards Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his +inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of +us, in obliging us to leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss +of Edward and Augustus and finally of the melancholy Death of my +beloved Companion. + +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s +countenance, during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, +that to the eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely +predominated. Nay, faultless as my conduct had certainly been during +the whole course of my late misfortunes and adventures, she pretended +to find fault with my behaviour in many of the situations in which I +had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had always behaved in +a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid +little attention to what she said, and desired her to satisfy my +Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my +spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had +complyed with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate +detail of every thing that had befallen her since our separation (the +particulars of which if you are not already acquainted with, your +Mother will give you) I applied to Augusta for the same information +respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady Dorothea. + +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of +Nature, her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in +that part of the World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the +Highlands, that she had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to +Scotland and had persuaded Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they +had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days before and from thence had made +daily Excursions into the Country around in the Stage Coach they were +then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that time returning. +My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter +of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, +namely, Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to +them except their Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to +be removed from any of his former Acquaintance, had driven it to +Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other Day. That +Philippa still retaining her affection for her ungratefull Husband, had +followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him in his little +Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little money into +their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always travelled +in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival in +Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from +Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in +a crowded and uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her +sentiments on the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus +sacrificing his Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old +woman whose folly in marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His +Behaviour however was entirely of a peice with his general Character; +for what could be expected from a man who possessed not the smallest +atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the meaning of simpathy, and who +actually snored—. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 15th +LAURA in continuation. + + +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was +determined to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as +soon as I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired +after their Health, expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their +situation. At first they seemed rather confused at my appearance +dreading no doubt that I might call them to account for the money which +our Grandfather had left me and which they had unjustly deprived me of, +but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to +step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater ease. +Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring +green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined +and sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them +of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and +at my request they related to me every incident of theirs. + +“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters +which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers +could neither of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it +is generally beleived that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a +Bricklayer and that my Father was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of +Edinburgh. This is however of little consequence for as our Mothers +were certainly never married to either of them it reflects no Dishonour +on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha +(the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived +together. They were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes +had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had always +lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of +the Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the +convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether it was from this +circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from a wish of being +independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for which we were always +remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is that when we had +reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran away. +Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with +economy and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this +purpose we therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we +devoted to Victuals, the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th +to Carriages, the 5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to +Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having +thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we expected to make the +nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London and had the +good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner than +we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves +from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our +Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, +we gave over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some +strolling Company of Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. +Accordingly we offered our services to one and were accepted; our +Company was indeed rather small, as it consisted only of the Manager +his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to pay and the only +inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for want of +People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind +trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was _Macbeth_, +in which we were truly great. The Manager always played _Banquo_ +himself, his Wife my _Lady Macbeth_. I did the _Three Witches_ and +Philander acted _all the rest_. To say the truth this tragedy was not +only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and after +having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to +exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be +quartered in that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—. +We were in the Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the +arms to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our +Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get something from him by +discovering the Relationship—. You know how well it succeeded—. Having +obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the Town, leaving +our Manager and his Wife to act _Macbeth_ by themselves, and took the +road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune with great _eclat_. +We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some preferment in +the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.” + +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in +their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who +impatiently expected me. + +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least +for the present. + +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of +his son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a +year. I graciously promised that I would, but could not help observing +that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on account of my being +the Widow of Edward than in being the refined and amiable Laura. + +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of +Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can +uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy solitude, my +unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my Mother, my +Husband and my Freind. + +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all +others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her +stay in Scotland. + +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the +same time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered. + +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent +Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of _Luvis_ and +_Quick_. + +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still +continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:— + +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne. +Laura. + + +Finis + + +June 13th 1790. + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + + +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. + + +Sir + +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me +with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I +greive; yet fear that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as +it is carried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is +another concern to your obliged humble + +Servant +The Author + + +Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. + +H. T. Austen + + +£105. 0. 0. + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE + + + + +LETTER the FIRST is from +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792. + +My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, +that she might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and +amiable Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these +words—the remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the +Maternal character and so openly violated the conjugal Duties, +prevented his adding anything farther; he embraced his sweet Child and +after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from us and seating himself +in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was there a better +young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has +experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! +for you know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her +Child and reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and +dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less +amiable Heart than Louisa owned! Her child already possesses the +personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she inherit from her Father +all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and twenty, and has +already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a difference +between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the +Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that +his Son was really about five years back, and that _he_ has affected to +appear ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about +the streets of London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of +57, Matilda and I continue secluded from Mankind in our old and +Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from Perth on a bold +projecting Rock, and commands an extensive veiw of the Town and its +delightful Environs. But tho’ retired from almost all the World, (for +we visit no one but the M’Leods, The M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the +M’Cartneys, the M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the +contrary there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty +girls, than we are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We +read, we work, we walk, and when fatigued with these Employments +releive our spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, or by +some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are handsome my dear +Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our Perfections is, that +we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I thus dwell +on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice the +innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as +she reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years +old; as handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as +prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you +that she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she +already knows the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never +tears her frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense +and Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, +and you will therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming +to Lesley-Castle, and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine +for yourself. Ah! my dear Freind, how happy should I be to see you +within these venerable Walls! It is now four years since my removal +from School has separated me from you; that two such tender Hearts, so +closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and Freindship, should +be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I live in +Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father +disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the +same time. We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else +indeed, could we but be at the same place together. We have only to +hope that such a period may arrive. My Father does not return to us +till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in a few Days; he is +impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters himself that +change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will join +with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of +the unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to +that of your sincere freind + +M. Lesley. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. + + +Glenford Febry 12 + +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking +you my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should +not have deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the +last five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary arrangements +for my sisters wedding, as to allow me no time to devote either to you +or myself. And now what provokes me more than anything else is that the +Match is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great +the Dissapointment must be to me, when you consider that after having +laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner +ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton, +and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the +Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been +Roasting, Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. +Indeed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to +what I experienced on last Monday when my sister came running to me in +the store-room with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me +that Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and +was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. “Good +God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will +become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it while it +is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I shall be able +to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and You and +the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by seeing my +poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, +where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the +Maids, and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she +was sensible, she expressed a determination of going instantly to +Henry, and was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest +Difficulty in the World to prevent her putting it in execution; at last +however more by Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her +room; we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued for some Hours in the +most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I continued in the room with +her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would +allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in +our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some +plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do +was to begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the +cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with +great Alacrity. We would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of +a Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. She was however much quieter +than she had been; the convulsions she had before suffered having given +way to an almost perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by +every means in our power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. +“Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occasion for your crying so much about +such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order to +comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You see it does not vex me in +the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it after all; for I +shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have dressed +already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very +likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he +will) I shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry +any one else. So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may +afflict you to think of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die +soon, and then his pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my +Trouble will last much longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain +that the pantry cannot be cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did +all in my power to console her, but without any effect, and at last as +I saw that she did not seem to listen to me, I said no more, but +leaving her with my Mother I took down the remains of The Ham and +Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was not expected to +live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible care to +break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in +spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too +violent for her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high +Delirium. She is still extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly +afraid of her going into a Decline. We are therefore preparing for +Bristol, where we mean to be in the course of the next week. And now my +dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and in the first +place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, your Father is +going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so unpleasing a +report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have written +to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as +she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not +who is the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the +resolution he has taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to +obliterate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have +lately so much afflicted him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from +all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may +never know what it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely +affectionate + +C.L. + + +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, +which I enclose to you, and on which you will make your own +reflections. + +The enclosed LETTER + +My dear CHARLOTTE + +You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir +George Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I +am. Sir George is certainly married; I was myself present at the +Ceremony, which you will not be surprised at when I subscribe myself +your + +Affectionate +Susan Lesley + + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL + + +Lesley Castle February the 16th + +I _have_ made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my +Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I +reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a +second family, our fortunes must be considerably diminushed—that if his +Wife should be of an extravagant turn, she would encourage him to +persevere in that gay and Dissipated way of Life to which little +encouragement would be necessary, and which has I fear already proved +but too detrimental to his health and fortune—that she would now become +Mistress of those Jewels which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir +George had always promised us—that if they did not come into Perthshire +I should not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my +Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at the +head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were the +melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately +occupied her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, +whether the probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own +Consequence. We both wish very much to know whether Lady Lesley is +handsome and what is your opinion of her; as you honour her with the +appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves that she must be +amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few +Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull +manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his +Health and Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa +with any degree either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself +obliged to her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be +single again. By this, you may perceive that he has entirely regained +that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, for which he was once so +remarkable. When he first became acquainted with Louisa which was +little more than three years ago, he was one of the most lively, the +most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet heard the +particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our +cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa +Burton was the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who +dieing a few Months before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then +about eighteen to the protection of any of his Relations who would +protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only one who found herself so +disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from a miserable Cottage in +Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from every pecuniary +Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment that +Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and Cunning; +but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the +appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, +that to be married, would be the only chance she would have of not +being starved, and who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary +share of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an +engaging address, she might stand a good chance of pleasing some young +Man who might afford to marry a girl without a Shilling. Louisa +perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was determined to +forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of Perseverance +and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her natural +disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose +upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her +discovered her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley +first beheld her at Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your +favourite comparison) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a +Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few Days, +he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell, and before he had +known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at first highly +displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he found +that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the +bounty of his great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely +sufficient to support him and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the +first twelvemonth, no one could be happier than Lesley, and no one more +amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and so +cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I often spent several weeks +together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspicion of her real +Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one would have +thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she had +so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did +indeed appear if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she +seemed to take no pains to prevent that affection from ever +diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, were now less frequent +and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our absence was however +never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of +young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at +one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of +Matilda and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter +girls than we are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial +happiness; I will not repeat it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I +have not yet mentioned anything of the matter, I hope you will do me +the justice to beleive that I _think_ and _feel_, a great deal for your +Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but that the healthy air of the +Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing from her Mind the +remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever + +M. L. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + + +Bristol February 27th + +My Dear Peggy + +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex +while I was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from +some unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return +you many thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance, +Love and Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me +for having often been repeated to me before. + +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to +imagine our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left +Particular orders with the servants to eat as hard as they possibly +could, and to call in a couple of Chairwomen to assist them. We brought +a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold tongue, and half a dozen +Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the help of our +Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in less +than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very +indifferent both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air +of the Bristol downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor +Henry from her remembrance. + +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I +will now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. +She is short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a +good deal; has fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let +you know as soon as she sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is +remarkably good-tempered when she has her own way, and very lively when +she is not out of humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very +affected; she never reads anything but the letters she receives from +me, and never writes anything but her answers to them. She plays, sings +and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in none, tho’ she +says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may flatter me so far +as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little affection +should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our +freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. +We spent two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom +we both happened to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being +remarkably bad, and our party particularly stupid, she was so good as +to conceive a violent partiality for me, which very soon settled in a +downright Freindship and ended in an established correspondence. She is +probably by this time as tired of me, as I am of her; but as she is too +Polite and I am too civil to say so, our letters are still as frequent +and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as firm and sincere as +when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures of +London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some +difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I +dare say she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those +favourite haunts of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable +gloom of the castle you inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her +health impaired by too much amusement, she may acquire fortitude +sufficient to undertake a Journey to Scotland in the hope of its +Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not conducive to her +happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your father’s +extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your Sister’s +consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My freind +herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as +much every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will +certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living +to which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some +reason to fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune +at all. The Jewels I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and +there is too much reason to think that she will preside at her Husbands +table in preference to his Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject +must necessarily extremely distress you, I will no longer dwell on it—. + +Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family +since we came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill +health of their little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may +imagine that being the only family with whom we can converse, we are of +course on a footing of intimacy with them; we see them indeed almost +every day, and dined with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant Day, +and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure the Veal was terribly +underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not help wishing all +dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A brother of Mrs +Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a good-looking +young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I tell +Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem +to relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and +Cleveland has a very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not +consider _myself_ as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but +to tell you the truth I never wish to act a more principal part at a +Wedding than the superintending and directing the Dinner, and therefore +while I can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, I shall never +think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect that I should not have +so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for dressing that +of my freinds. + +Yours sincerely +C. L. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley-Castle March 18th + +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received +one from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us +that he should do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us +on the following evening. This as you may suppose considerably +surprised us, particularly as your account of her Ladyship had given us +reason to imagine there was little chance of her visiting Scotland at a +time that London must be so gay. As it was our business however to be +delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit from Sir George +and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer expressive of the +happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily +recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it +would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left +Edinburgh, we contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we +were as happy as we ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the +following day, they came, accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. +Her Ladyship perfectly answers the description you sent me of her, +except that I do not think her so pretty as you seem to consider her. +She has not a bad face, but there is something so extremely unmajestic +in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in comparison with +the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant Dwarf. Her +curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more than +four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins +to mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. +We cannot refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of +our Father, and thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is +certainly one of the most pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not +yet determined when we are to go, but when ever we do we shall +certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; +Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever + +M. L. + + + + +LETTER the SIXTH +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley-Castle March 20th + +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already +heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square +for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no +idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actually +perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inaccessible, that I +expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and sincerely repented +having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the expence of +being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a +manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside +of this tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having +my spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the +Miss Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, +I met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and +Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls, +just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison +as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could but behold these +Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of your wits. They +will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. +Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who +I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave +me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss _Somebody_ which I +have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest Children. I have been +plagued ever since I came here with tiresome visits from a parcel of +Scotch wretches, with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me +so many invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, that I could +not help affronting them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and +yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do +with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings +but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett +with a great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there +is not a creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have +just had a conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly +offended me, and which as I have nothing more entertaining to send you +I will gave you the particulars of. You must know that I have for these +4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected William of entertaining a +partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that had _I_ been +inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have made choice +of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is nothing I +hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for +some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a +very great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to +see him unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry +Matilda, as moreover I know that his circumstances will not allow him +to marry any one without a fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely +dependant on her Father, who will neither have his own inclination nor +my permission to give her anything at present, I thought it would be +doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let him know as much, in +order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer his passion, +or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone with +him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause +to him in the following Manner. + +“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I +do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me +partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They +are indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to think”— + +“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do +not really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is +so very plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I +was speaking—” + +“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.” + +“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband +so deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see +any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion +perfectly unlike him and perfectly Handsome.” + +“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and +very handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is +very plain.” + +“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man.” + +“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain.” + +“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he). + +“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.” + +“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about _his_ Beauty, but your +opinion of his _Daughters_ is surely very singular, for if I understood +you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected to +do!” + +“Why, do _you_ find them plainer then?” (said I). + +“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak +of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss +Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?” + +“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!” + +“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why +what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly +find fault with?” + +“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I could +when I said it, in order to shame him). + +“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both.” + +“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!” + +“They are _taller_ than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy smile.) + +“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” + +“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, their +figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull.” + +“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never +could strain my neck enough to look at them.” + +“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in +not attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their +Lustre.” + +“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure +you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given +me just cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he +said) “You must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have +offended you!” + +“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least +surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these +girls.”— + +“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet +concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with +their complexion?” + +“They are so horridly pale.” + +“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened.” + +“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of +the world, they will never be able raise more than their common +stock—except indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down +these horrid old galleries and Antichambers.” + +“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they _have_ but little colour, at least, it +is all their own.” + +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the +impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. +But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it +so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I have protested +against wearing Rouge, and how much I always told you I disliked it. +And I assure you that my opinions are still the same.—. Well, not +bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately, +and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a +long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such +from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one +has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much vexed +by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to stay +and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I +am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, +that I am certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I +shall there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his +favourite. Adeiu my dear girl— + +Yrs affectionately Susan L. + + + + +LETTER the SEVENTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + + +Bristol the 27th of March + +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this +week which have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are +both downright jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two +pretty Women tho’ actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same +House without falling out about their faces. Do be convinced that you +are both perfectly handsome and say no more of the Matter. I suppose +this letter must be directed to Portman Square where probably (great as +is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be sorry to find +yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields and +the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must +be very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my +Mother’s income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during +Winter. I always longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether +the cold Beef there is cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly +suspicion that few people understand the art of cutting a slice of cold +Beef so well as I do: nay it would be hard if I did not know something +of the Matter, for it was a part of my Education that I took by far the +most pains with. Mama always found me _her_ best scholar, tho’ when +Papa was alive Eloisa was _his_. Never to be sure were there two more +different Dispositions in the World. We both loved Reading. _She_ +preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved drawing, Pictures, and I +drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than she, and no one +make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued since we have +been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes on +the superior excellence of our Employments _then_ so frequent are now +no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to +admire each other’s works; I never fail listening to _her_ Music, and +she is as constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till +Henry Hervey made his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his +Aunt in our neighbourhood where she established herself you know about +a twelvemonth ago, his visits to her had been at stated times, and of +equal and settled Duration; but on her removal to the Hall which is +within a walk from our House, they became both more frequent and +longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs Diana who +is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum and +Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and +Good-breeding. Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour +that I have often heard her give such hints of it before his face that +had not Henry at such times been engaged in conversation with Eloisa, +they must have caught his Attention and have very much distressed him. +The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I have before hinted at, +now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of admiring each +others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ I +constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even +a pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of +approbation. This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; +however, I was as cool as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and +concerted a scheme of Revenge, I was determined to let her have her own +way and not even to make her a single reproach. My scheme was to treat +her as she treated me, and tho’ she might even draw my own Picture or +play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever really liked) not to say +so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ I had for many years constantly +hollowed whenever she played, _Bravo_, _Bravissimo_, _her_, _Da capo_, +_allegretto con expressione_, and _Poco presto_ with many other such +outlandish words, all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my +Admiration; and so indeed I suppose they are, as I see some of them in +every Page of every Music book, being the sentiments I imagine of the +composer. + +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for +alas! my silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease +her; on the contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I +am very glad to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous +custom of applauding my Execution on the Harpsichord till you made _my_ +head ake, and yourself hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for +keeping your admiration to yourself.” I never shall forget the very +witty answer I made to this speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be +quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in future, for be +assured that I shall always keep my admiration to myself and my own +pursuits and never extend it to yours.” This was the only very severe +thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have often felt myself +extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my feelings +public. + +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection +for each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for +Miss Burton could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You +may imagine therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him +play her such a trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with +undiminished constancy, notwithstanding he has been dead more than six +weeks; but some People mind such things more than others. The ill state +of Health into which his loss has thrown her makes her so weak, and so +unable to support the least exertion, that she has been in tears all +this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. Marlowe who with +her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this morning. I am +sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom we +have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure +Eloisa and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and +have therefore contracted a kind of affection for each other, which +does not make Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The +Marlowes are going to Town; Cliveland accompanies them; as neither +Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you or Matilda may have better +Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, Eloisa’s spirits are so +low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is certainly by no means +mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope determine our +Measures—in the mean time believe me + +and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell. + + + + +LETTER the EIGHTH +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE + + +Bristol April 4th + +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of +your affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you +made me of our Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great +releif to me to write to you and as long as my Health and Spirits will +allow me, you will find me a very constant correspondent; I will not +say an entertaining one, for you know my situation suffciently not to +be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart +too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You must not +expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least acquainted, +or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from +hearing or inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the +melancholy effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the +Happiness it once enjoyed and which ill supports its present +wretchedness. The Possibility of being able to write, to speak, to you +of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, and your goodness will not I +know refuse to read what it will so much releive my Heart to write. I +once thought that to have what is in general called a Freind (I mean +one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than to any +other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my +wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by +two confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of +one to me, and I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I +say that to have some kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to +my sorrows without endeavouring to console me was what I had for some +time wished for, when our acquaintance with you, the intimacy which +followed it and the particular affectionate attention you paid me +almost from the first, caused me to entertain the flattering Idea of +those attentions being improved on a closer acquaintance into a +Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you would be the +greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that such +Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is +now almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid +that I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off +writing, and I cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you +than by acting, as I know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or +Present. I am my dear Emmas sincere freind + +E. L. + + + + +LETTER the NINTH +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL + + +Grosvenor Street, April 10th + +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot +give a greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the +Desire I feel that our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than +by setting you so good an example as I now do in answering it before +the end of the week—. But do not imagine that I claim any merit in +being so punctual; on the contrary I assure you, that it is a far +greater Gratification to me to write to you, than to spend the Evening +either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my +appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like +to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, +that independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion +of my Time to my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a +letter to write of spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you +know me well enough to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient +Inducement (if one is necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure a +Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters to me, +whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally +interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of +your own sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will +only encourage and increase them, and that it will be more prudent in +you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing +and melancholy Pleasure it must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself +to deny you so great an Indulgence, and will only insist on your not +expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own letters; on the contrary +I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and enlivening Humour as +shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull countenance of +my Eloisa. + +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three +freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have +been here. I know you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the +Beauty of three Ladies of whom you have heard so much. Now, as you are +too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I think I may venture to inform you +that I like none of their faces so well as I do your own. Yet they are +all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I +beleive would in general be said to have a finer face than her +Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a +little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which +she is superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself +as many admirers as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. +I am sure you will agree with me in saying that they can none of them +be of a proper size for real Beauty, when you know that two of them are +taller and the other shorter than ourselves. In spite of this Defect +(or rather by reason of it) there is something very noble and majestic +in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and something agreably lively in +the appearance of their pretty little Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may +be majestic and the other lively, yet the faces of neither possess that +Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her present languor is so far +from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother say of us, if they +knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this letter. It +is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by any +one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either +her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more +amiable are women in that particular! One man may say forty civil +things to another without our supposing that he is ever paid for it, +and provided he does his Duty by our sex, we care not how Polite he is +to his own. + +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, +my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and +Spirits that can be offered by her affectionate Freind + +E. Marlowe. + + +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the +witty way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when +I assure you that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. + + + + +LETTER the TENTH +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Portman Square April 13th + +MY DEAR CHARLOTTE + +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in +London after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding +your Letter here waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful +Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I every day more regret the serene and +tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have left, in exchange for the +uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted City. Not that I will +pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal Amusements are in +the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy them +extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that +every appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those +unhappy Beings whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is +out of my power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my +sensibility for the sufferings of so many amiable young Men, my Dislike +of the extreme admiration I meet with, and my aversion to being so +celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, and in Printshops, +that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the Amusements so +various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I +possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as +inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as +yours! But ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I +have had the small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. + +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has +long disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to +require the most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night +Matilda and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs +Kickabout’s; we were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable +young Man in the main, tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He +is in love with Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the +Lady of the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when +my Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most +lovely of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with another +Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him, I was certain +that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. Imagine my +surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of Cleveland—I +instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and the +acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the +gentleman and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe +handsome?) The elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners +and Delightful Bow, at once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; +but I can imagine everything he would have said, had he opened his +Mouth. I can picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the Noble +sentiments, and elegant Language which would have shone so conspicuous +in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The approach of Sir James Gower +(one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the Discovery of any such +Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never commenced, and +by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are the +accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! +Sir James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost +always of our Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but +no Cleveland—he is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues +me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome Conversations about +you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in the hope of seeing her +irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going to Lady Flambeaus, who +is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be Lady Lesley, +Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of Sir +George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune +where art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes +her appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful +Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I +wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely she must be +sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her little diminutive +figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible that she can not +know how greatly superior an elegant simplicity is to the most studied +apparel? Would she but Present them to Matilda and me, how greatly +should we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds be on our fine +majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an Idea should +never have occurred to _her_. I am sure if I have reflected in this +manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s +Jewels too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me +entertain you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this +morning from Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he +is at Naples has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s +Bulls for annulling his 1st Marriage and has since actually married a +Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that +much the same sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worthless +Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon +to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished +merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite +forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good +Neighbours. He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and +to bring him his little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and +himself are equally desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his +invitation, it is at Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to +go without loss of time; Fitzgerald offers to escort us there, but +Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such a scheme—she owns it +would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father +desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months +both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending +us. Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the +Amusements of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our +Brother. “No (says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been +fool enough to travel I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of +the Family, and I found it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I +am so foolish again.” So says her Ladyship, but Sir George still +Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany +us. + +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + +FROM +THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH +TO +THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST + +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. + + + + +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by + +THE AUTHOR. + + +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + +HENRY the 4th + + +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own +satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and +predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the +rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered. +It is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had certainly +four sons, but it is not in my power to inform the Reader who was his +wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his +son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the +King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to +Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being +thus settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son +Henry who had previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. + +HENRY the 5th + + +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and +amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing +Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I +forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where +he went and fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards +married the King’s daughter Catherine, a very agreable woman by +Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this however he died, and was +succeeded by his son Henry. + +HENRY the 6th + + +I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him +and the Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had +better read some other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in +this, meaning by it only to vent my spleen _against_, and shew my +Hatred _to_ all those people whose parties or principles do not suit +with mine, and not to give information. This King married Margaret of +Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost +to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of +Arc lived and made such a _row_ among the English. They should not have +burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles between the Yorkists +and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) usually +conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was +murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the +Throne. + +EDWARD the 4th + + +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which +the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in +marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient +proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was +afterwards confined in a Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and +Avarice Henry the 7th. One of Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who +has had a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and therefore not +worth reading. Having performed all these noble actions, his Majesty +died, and was succeeded by his son. + +EDWARD the 5th + + +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to +draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose +name was Richard the 3rd. + +RICHARD the 3rd + + +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated +by Historians, but as he was a _York_, I am rather inclined to suppose +him a very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted +that he killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been +declared that he did _not_ kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to +beleive true; and if this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he +did not kill his Wife, for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of +York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether +innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E. +of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss about +getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth, +he succeeded to it. + +HENRY the 7th + + +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of +York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right +inferior to hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage +he had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was +married to the King of Scotland and had the happiness of being +grandmother to one of the first Characters in the World. But of _her_, +I shall have occasion to speak more at large in future. The youngest, +Mary, married first the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk, +by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, +who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an +amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other people +were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck +and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former +of whom was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was +beheaded with the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the +Kings kitchen. His Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry +whose only merit was his not being _quite_ so bad as his daughter +Elizabeth. + +HENRY the 8th + + +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were +not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I +am myself. It will therefore be saving _them_ the task of reading again +what they have read before, and _myself_ the trouble of writing what I +do not perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the +principal Events which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked +Cardinal Wolsey’s telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he +was come to lay his bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and +the King’s riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is +however but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was +entirely innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of +which her Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient +proofs, not to mention her solemn Protestations of Innocence, the +weakness of the Charges against her, and the King’s Character; all of +which add some confirmation, tho’ perhaps but slight ones when in +comparison with those before alledged in her favour. Tho’ I do not +profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper to give some and +shall of course make choice of those which it is most necessary for the +Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her letter to the +King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of this +Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has +fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his +abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous +depredations of time has been of infinite use to the landscape of +England in general, which probably was a principal motive for his doing +it, since otherwise why should a Man who was of no Religion himself be +at so much trouble to abolish one which had for ages been established +in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice +who, tho’ universally acquitted of the crimes for which she was +beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led an abandoned +life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, since she +was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the +Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The +Kings last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected +it. He was succeeded by his only son Edward. + +EDWARD the 6th + + +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s +death, he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the +late King happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the +Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. +This Man was on the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat +of a favourite with me, tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that +he was equal to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or +Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud, +had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as +it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never +happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with +the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of Northumberland had the +care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so +well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his daughter in law +the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading Greek. +Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was +always rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, +she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what +was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she +declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen, and while +conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence in Latin and another +in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband accidentally passing +that way. + +MARY + + +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of +England, in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her +Cousins Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the +Kingdom for the misfortunes they experienced during her Reign, since +they fully deserved them, for having allowed her to succeed her +Brother—which was a double peice of folly, since they might have +foreseen that as she died without children, she would be succeeded by +that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many were +the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her +reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of +Spain who in her sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She +died without issue, and then the dreadful moment came in which the +destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in +her, and the Murderess of her Cousin succeeded to the Throne.—— + +ELIZABETH + + +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad +Ministers—Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed +such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived +at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people +been asserted and beleived that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, +and the rest of those who filled the cheif offices of State were +deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded such +writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised, +neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their +Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining +for the space of nineteen years, a _Woman_ who if the claims of +Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who +condescended to place confidence in her, had every reason to expect +assistance and protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring +this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can +any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, this everlasting +blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any praise to +Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this bewitching +Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose only +ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was +abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and +vilified by all, what must not her most noble mind have suffered when +informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it +with a most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her +Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she was +doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious +Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that some +hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much +credit? But this is a striking proof of _their_ narrow souls and +prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great +Hall at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of +February 1586—to the everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, +and of England in general. It may not be unnecessary before I entirely +conclude my account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had +been accused of several crimes during the time of her reigning in +Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she +was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, +her Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely +done away every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in +the Reader’s mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I +shall proceed to mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s +reign. It was about this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English +Navigator who sailed round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his +Country and his profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated +as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in this +or the next Century by one who tho’ now but young, already promises to +answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of his Relations and +Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom this work is +dedicated, and my no less amiable self. + +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of +Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an _Earl_, as Drake +was in that of a _Sailor_, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This +unfortunate young Man was not unlike in character to that equally +unfortunate one _Frederic Delamere_. The simile may be carried still +farther, and Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to the +Emmeline of Delamere. It would be endless to recount the misfortunes of +this noble and gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was +beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant of +Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and after +performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long +survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to +the memory of Mary I should pity her. + +JAMES the 1st + + +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most +principal, was his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the +whole I cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had +several Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died +before his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell +his unfortunate Brother. + +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with +infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member +of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am +necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England +did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour +indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of Parliament might justly +be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho’ +certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general +politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were +entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. + +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is +by many people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an +enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and +must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars +of his life, to Mr Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find +many interesting anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir +Christopher Hatton.—His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which +inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a keener +penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard +an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now on +reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to +_find it out_, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them. + +SHARADE + + +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on +my whole. + +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards +created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in +the above mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of +Buckingham. On his Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles. + +CHARLES the 1st + + +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to +those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve +since he was her descendant. Never certainly were there before so many +detestable Characters at one time in England as in this Period of its +History; never were amiable men so scarce. The number of them +throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to _five_, besides the +inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their King and faithful +to his interests. The names of this noble five who never forgot the +duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, +were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own +support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. +While the _villains_ of the time would make too long a list to be +written or read; I shall therefore content myself with mentioning the +leaders of the Gang. Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be +considered as the original Causers of all the disturbances, Distresses, +and Civil Wars in which England for many years was embroiled. In this +reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my +attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally guilty with the +generality of the English, since they dared to think differently from +their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as _Stuarts_ it was +their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the +unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too +numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what +I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my principal reason for +undertaking the History of England being to Prove the innocence of the +Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with having effectually done, +and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather fearful of having fallen short +in the latter part of my scheme.—As therefore it is not my intention to +give any particular account of the distresses into which this King was +involved through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall +satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of Arbitrary and +tyrannical Government with which he has often been charged. This, I +feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am certain +of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions +have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that +he was a STUART. + +FINIS + + +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +To Miss COOPER + + +COUSIN + +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every +Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I +Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious +Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by +your Comical Cousin + +The Author + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + + +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner +from that in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now +arrived at that age when it is necessary for them in some measure to +become conversant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister +scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that their education +has been such as will not disgrace their appearance in the World, and +that _they_ will not disgrace their Education I have every reason to +beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible yet +unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As their +progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am +willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together +into Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first _entrée_ into +Life, as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad +that we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward +for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall +proceed by degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, +and perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay +Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we +have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at +Sir John Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the +Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How +they will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I +have no fear, I only dread their health. + + +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls _are out_. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove +to the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they +were seated thus addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now +arrived when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours +towards you during your Education. You are this Evening to enter a +World in which you will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me +warn you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the +Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if +you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both assured me that they +would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow it with +attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to +amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would +never give me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had +presided over their infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such +expectations and such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear +from you—and can chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of +your being seduced by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. +Come, then my Children (added I) the Carriage is driving to the door, +and I will not a moment delay the happiness you are so impatient to +enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely +breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. “The long-expected +Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be in the World.”—In +a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s parlour, where with her daughter +she sate ready to receive us. I observed with delight the impression my +Children made on them—. They were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking +Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the peculiarity of their +situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and address which +could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how delighted I must +have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed every +object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in +raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners. + +Yrs Ever—A. F. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + + +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why +should I feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have +experienced before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for +Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our +feelings become more acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my +dear Belle that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being +more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen, +or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most +lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then dear +Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I +weep when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My +Freinds are all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they +lament my want of spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of +releiving my melancholy, by directing my thoughts to other objects, +they have invited several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with +us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected +on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s family will be with us next week. This +is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the +presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and distress +me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our Visitors are arrived. + + +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet +sister Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming +Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she +is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is +more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, +the moment she entered the house, and she appeared equally pleased with +me, attaching herself to me during the remainder of the day. There is +something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, that she seems more +than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I +could not help telling her how much she engaged my admiration—. “Oh! +Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an inability at the moment of +expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss Jane—(I repeated)—I could +not think of words to suit my feelings—She seemed waiting for my +speech—. I was confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I +could only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my Embarrassment +and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by saying—“My +dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself—I will turn the +Conversation without appearing to notice it. “Oh! how I loved her for +her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you used to do?” said she—. “I am +advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I +have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I +quite recovered from my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal.” +“You are in the right my Love,” said she. Then repeating the following +line which was an extempore and equally adapted to recommend both +Riding and Candour— + +“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” _I_ rode +once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and tremulous a +Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could +make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes on my +face, since I was married.” I was never so surprised—“Married, Ma’am!” +I repeated. “You may well wear that look of astonishment, said she, +since what I have said must appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is +more true than that I once was married.” + +“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” + +“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret +from him and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might +offer of revealing it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon +given in the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears, +continued Miss Jane wiping her Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory. +He fell my Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after a +most happy Union of seven years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a +Girl, who had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with +him and with every one as the Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever +been an only Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. But no +sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures fell sick and +died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an +Aunt I attended my Children to their early Grave—. My Father did not +survive them many weeks—He died, poor Good old man, happily ignorant to +his last hour of my Marriage.” + +“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s death?” + +“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself +are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been +either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the +name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry’s death I could never +hear without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that +of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point +of bearing only my Christian one since my Father’s death.” She +paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to +you for so entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted +me! But have you quite done?” + +“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, +and as we had always loved each other in idea from the high Character +in which we had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we +determined to live together. We wrote to one another on the same +subject by the same post, so exactly did our feeling and our actions +coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we gave and received +of becoming one family, and have from that time lived together in the +greatest affection.” + +“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.” + +“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?” + +“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when +one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to hear +of equal misery.” + +“Ah! but my Sophia why _are you_ unhappy?” + +“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?” + +“But my love why lament _his_ perfidy, when you bore so well that of +many young Men before?” + +“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.” + +“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane. + + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + + +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my +Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who +did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to +sit forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent +especially as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation +on me “So Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the +door of the Carriage) you seem very smart to night—_My_ poor Girls will +appear quite to disadvantage by _you_—I only hope your Mother may not +have distressed herself to set _you_ off. Have you got a new Gown on?” + +“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could assume. + +“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission I +seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, +for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a +needless piece of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped +one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor, +for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than +blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time +I must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been +quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell you the truth (I always +speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the +room will not know whether you have a Gown on or not—But I suppose you +intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, the sooner the better; and +I wish you success.” + +“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—” + +“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” Miss +Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. + +“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her Ladyship. + +“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.” + +“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant.” + +“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” + +“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” “Bread and +Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a better supper.” said +Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is +always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she +constantly does at her Mother’s wit. + +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while +riding in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother +is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my +way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady +Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her +House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of +being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.—When we arrived at +Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, which was an hour and a half +later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too +fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing +however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just +as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got +his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean +time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room +went exactly before me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me +though there were several people close to us, + +“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I +am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; +perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she +passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and +leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr +Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered +the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared +from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all +the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations +in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in +the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see +that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who +had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly +when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with +_more_ than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and +said loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss +Maria in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and +I cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she +wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent +her seeing that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine +Merchant.” “Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not +he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that +he did.” “At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” +“Why, was not your _Father_ as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not +he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me +_such_ a look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half +delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of being +thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she +took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in +favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a +Party of great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone +else. Miss Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen +preferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant +Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable +ride. + +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at +the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it +should. She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should +not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she +wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste and come +immediately—” “What an impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—” +replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her +Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold. + +“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that +you may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do +not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine for +I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I +could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself +dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait—I hate my +Victuals over-done—But you need not come before the time—How does your +Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the +middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it +very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said +her Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are +used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made +your Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often +ride in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the +wind shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as +you do in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings +either of cold or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on +Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at +night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk home—My +compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive on—” +And away she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always +does. + +Maria Williams. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + + +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very +agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her +appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and +voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that +they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her +Life, who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen +her, for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, +and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable +opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished +to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr +Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged +in a whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of +necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and +being determined not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began +the Conversation in the following Manner. + +“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?” + +“I arrived on Tuesday.” + +“You came from Derbyshire?” + +“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will +think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not +wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased +with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you +have left?” + +“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know +for why. + +“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a +poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much +raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. + +“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.” +“You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma’am I was and passed many happy +years there—” + +“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you never spent any +_un_happy one’s there.” + +“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a +right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—_Some_ Misfortunes I have +certainly met with.” + +“_What_ Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with impatience to +know every thing. “_None_ Ma’am I hope that have been the effect of any +wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but that +any sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the +cruelties of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem +unhappy my dear Miss Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your +Misfortunes?” “_Your_ power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it +is in _no ones_ power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in +so mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage +to reply. I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few +moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear +Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably +stand in need of some one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to +superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give +it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept the offer I +make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall +only ask for yours—” + +“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am highly flattered by +your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no +uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I +am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall +know where to apply.” + +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still +however I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of +sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined +therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you +intend staying long in this part of England Miss Grenville?” + +“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.” + +“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?” + +“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I did not +expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life—. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + + +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love +every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I +had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from +my dear Musgrove. + +Sackville St: Janry 7th + + +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the +sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the +day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when her +Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase it +from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live +within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first +entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was +like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with +admiration—She appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate +Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time to look +about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an happiness +for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is +Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine +for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored by a +Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you +are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You are +an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the prettiest +Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves +Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ah! +Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for +the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair +one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in +affluence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an +improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I +am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house +which tho’ an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is +ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—Of that +Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and +devoted humble servt. + +T. Musgrove. + + +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a +master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of +Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? +No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with +by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the +following in answer to his Letter tomorrow. + +My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made +me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than +any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest +Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a +Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you +are in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How +shall we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we +cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how +impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will not +Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you +every day of my Life. + +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her +house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are +there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I +never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most +truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever + +Henrietta Halton. + + +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write +though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a +Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady +Scudamores—And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I +liked her Cousin Musgrove? + +“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.” + +“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love +with you.” + +“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?” + +“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love +with you from the first moment he beheld you.” + +“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I +would give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first +sight.” + +“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I +beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a +contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a +great deal of the World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.” + +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my +conquest. However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so +I said to her— + +“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who +have no fortune at all.” + +“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you +can be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to +encourage your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a +fortune with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an +estate of several hundreds an year which is capable of great +Improvement, and an excellent House, though at Present it is not quite +in repair.” + +“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, +and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good +Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for +admiring me, tho’ perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady +Scudamore.” + +“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I +am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to +yourself, cherishing a most tender affection for him.” + +“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?” + +“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?” + +“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away +my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.” + +“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why +refuse to confide in me?” + +“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, +that I am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a +handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be +ashamed of a passion which must have been mean since the object would +have been unworthy. But with such a figure and face, and such beautiful +hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such superior +merit has made an impression on me.” + +“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a +quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such +Noble Sentiments!” + +“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady Scudamore +did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” + +“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you +say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the +invisible power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so +exactly coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair is not very different. +Yes my dear Girl, the poor despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the +story of his Love—. Nor was I surprised at it—I know not how it was, +but I had a kind of presentiment that he _would_ be in love with you.” + +“Well, but how did he break it to you?” + +“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together +talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the +Conversation was cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, +when on a sudden he interrupted me in the midst of something I was +saying, by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone— + +Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me + +“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such +a couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are +not in rhime!” + +“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am +very sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, +with a pretty Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent +House tho’ somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with +success to the adorable Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel +and been toasted by a Baronet”—“_That_ I have—” cried I. Lady Scudamore +continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced of the +little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, +that I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet +surely neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the +exquisite Gratification of dieing for her, of falling a victim to her +Charms. And when I am dead”—continued her— + +“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!” + +“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” “When +I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and perhaps +she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” + +“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it.” + +“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would +not for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.” + +“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. + +“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when +I feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to +haste such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta +bless some happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly +attached to her as the hapless Musgrove and while _he_ crumbles to +dust, May they live an example of Felicity in the Conjugal state!” + +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be +lain at my feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have +to be capable of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. + +“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, +must melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; +and could the divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her +happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she +would pity your affection and endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin +answered he, do not endeavour to raise my hopes by such flattering +assurances. No, I cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and the +only thing which remains for me to do, is to die.” “True Love is ever +desponding replied I, but _I_ my dear Tom will give you even greater +hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, than I have yet given you, +by assuring you that I watched her with the strictest attention during +the whole day, and could plainly discover that she cherishes in her +bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for you.” + +“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!” + +“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I +to him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might +render the pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid +voice, nothing will convince me that _I_ can have touched the heart of +Henrietta Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt +deceiving me.” “In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me +to Persuade the poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference +for him; but when at last he could no longer deny the force of my +arguments, or discredit what I told him, his transports, his Raptures, +his Extacies are beyond my power to describe.” + +“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my +Uncle and Aunt?” + +“Yes, I told him every thing.” + +“And what did he say.” + +“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by +their Nephews or Neices, and wished _he_ were in the House of Commons, +that he might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.” + +“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I. + +“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta +would condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that +splendor to which she had been used, and accept only in exchange the +Comforts and Elegancies which his limited Income could afford her, even +supposing that his house were in Readiness to receive her. I told him +that it could not be expected that she would; it would be doing her an +injustice to suppose her capable of giving up the power she now +possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to the poorer +part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you and +herself.” + +“To be sure said I, I _am_ very Charitable every now and then. And what +did Mr Musgrove say to this?” + +“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the +truth of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy +Creature destined to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must +bring himself to wait, however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when +she might be freed from the power of worthless Relations and able to +bestow herself on him.” + +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who +am to be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so +adeiu my dear freind, and beleive me yours etc— + +H. Halton. + + +Finis. + + + + +SCRAPS + + + + +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN + + +MY DEAR NEICE + +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon +from superintending your Education myself, the care of which will +probably on that account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it +is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling as much as possible the +want of my personal instructions, by addressing to you on paper my +Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of Young Women, which you will +find expressed in the following pages.— + +I am my dear Neice +Your affectionate Aunt +The Author. + + + + +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + +A LETTER + +MY DEAR LOUISA + +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath, +whither he is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him, +but the eldest and the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. +Though you have often told me that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome, +you never mentioned anything of her Sisters’ beauty; yet they are +certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give you their description.—Julia is +eighteen; with a countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dignity are +happily blended, she has a form which at once presents you with Grace, +Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter than +her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity of +Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way as +estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness +the most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She +appears to have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her +conversation during the half hour they set with us, was replete with +humourous sallies, Bonmots and repartees; while the sensible, the +amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality worthy of a heart like her +own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I had always received +of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that social Shake, +and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old and +valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been +separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) +that many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which +gave occasion to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections +on the many changes in their situation which so long a period had +occasioned, on the advantages of some, and the disadvantages of others. +From this subject she made a short digression to the instability of +human pleasures and the uncertainty of their duration, which led her to +observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She was proceeding to +illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great Men when +the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending +five or six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, +and I assure you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. +“Louisa Clarke (said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet +sometimes her good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. +She neither wants Understanding or is without some pretensions to +Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the value she sets on her +personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be offered are +at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her folly.” So +said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the concurrence of +their own. + +Your affectionate +Arabella Smythe. + + + + +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + + +_Characters_ + +Popgun Maria +Charles Pistolletta +Postilion Hostess +Chorus of ploughboys Cook +and and +Strephon Chloe + + +SCENE—AN INN + + +_Enter_ Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. + + +Hostess to Maria +If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9. + +Maria +Yes Mistress.—_exit_ Maria + +Hostess to Cook +If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them. + +Cook +I will, I will. _exit_ Cook. + +Hostess to Charles +If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it. + +Charles +Yes Madam. _exeunt_ Severally. + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta. + + +Pistoletta +Pray papa how far is it to London? + +Popgun +My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the +picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am +going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my +whole Estate, it wants seven Miles. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE SUN— + + +_Enter_ Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. + + +Chloe +Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be +married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will +sing a song. + +SONG + + +I go to Town +And when I come down, +I shall be married to Streephon.* +And that to me will be fun. + + +[* Note the two e’s] + + +Chorus + + +Be fun, be fun, be fun, +And that to me will be fun. + + +_Enter_ Cook— + + +Cook +Here is the bill of fare. + +Chloe reads +2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have +the leg of beef and the partridge. + +_Exit_ Cook. + +And now I will sing another song. + +SONG + + +I am going to have my dinner, +After which I shan’t be thinner, +I wish I had here Strephon +For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one. + + +Chorus + + +Tough one, tough one, tough one +For he would carve the partridge if it +Should be a tough one. + + +_Exit_ Chloe and Chorus.— + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE LION. + + +_Enter_ Strephon and Postilion. + + +Streph:) +You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to +Town to marry Chloe. How much is your due? + +Post: +Eighteen pence. + +Streph: +Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support +myself in Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I +received from Chloe. + +Post: +Sir, I accept your offer. + +END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + + +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her +Judgement led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart +disapproved. + +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved +Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that +on a close examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have +strictly deserved them. I murdered my father at a very early period of +my Life, I have since murdered my Mother, and I am now going to murder +my Sister. I have changed my religion so often that at present I have +not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured witness in every public +tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my own Will. In +short there is scarcely a crime that I have not committed—But I am now +going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse guards has paid his +Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As there is +something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. +Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died +immensely rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice +to his three younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about +eight Million to the present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the +Colonel lived tolerably contented for nearly four months when he took +it into his head to determine on getting the whole of his eldest +Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged and the Colonel produced it in +Court—but nobody would swear to it’s being the right will except +himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody beleived him. At that +moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, and was +beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready +to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply +to me. In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore +to its’ being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign +all his illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the +next day with an offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my +Sister. + +Yours Ever, +Anna Parker. + + + + +A TOUR THROUGH WALES— +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— + + +MY DEAR CLARA + +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my +power to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last +Monday month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a +principality contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of +Wales. We travelled on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our +little poney and Fanny and I walked by her side or rather ran, for my +Mother is so fond of riding fast that she galloped all the way. You may +be sure that we were in a fine perspiration when we came to our place +of resting. Fanny has taken a great many Drawings of the Country, which +are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such exact resemblances as might +be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. It would astonish +you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We determined to take +a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our own besides +those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both capped +and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone, +Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which +we each took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully— + +I am your ever affectionate +Elizabeth Johnson. + + + + +A TALE. + + +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage +in Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested +to him by his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a +Closet for him, provided he would take a small house near the borders +of an extensive Forest, and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus +gladly accepted the offer and continued for some time searching after +such a retreat when he was one morning agreably releived from his +suspence by reading this advertisement in a Newspaper. + +TO BE LETT + + +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three +Miles from the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a +Closet. + +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and +shewed him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him +in his Carriage to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for +three days and six nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest +and following a track which led by it’s side down a steep Hill over +which ten Rivulets meandered, they reached the Cottage in half an hour. +Wilhelminus alighted, and after knocking for some time without +receiving any answer or hearing any one stir within, he opened the door +which was fastened only by a wooden latch and entered a small room, +which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that were +unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A pair +of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less +destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the +House. He was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the +comfort of reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything +on furniture himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took +him the next day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was +requisite to furnish the two rooms and the Closet, In a few days +everything was completed, and Wilhelminus returned to take possession +of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable +Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and Marina to whom +Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of Attendants.—An +ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in endeavouring +to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable presence +of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in an +open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was +both simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by +four sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and +that happy ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of +Wilhelminus’s most striking Virtues. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 *** diff --git a/old/1212-h/1212-h.htm b/old/1212-h/1212-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4d2268 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1212-h/1212-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4598 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>Love and Freindship And Other Early Works | Project Gutenberg</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +p.drama {text-indent: 0%; + margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 ***</div> + +<h1>LOVE & FREINDSHIP<br/> +AND<br/> +OTHER EARLY WORKS</h1> + +<h3>A Collection of Juvenile Writings</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Jane Austen</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"><b>LOVE AND FREINDSHIP</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0002">LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0003">LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0004">LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0005">LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0006">LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0007">LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0008">LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0009">LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0010">LETTER the 9th From the same to the same</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0011">LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0012">LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0013">LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0014">LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0015">LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0016">LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation.</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"><b>AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0018">LESLEY CASTLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0019">LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0020">LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0021">LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0022">LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0023">LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0024">LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0025">LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0026">LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0027">LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0028">LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0029"><b>THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0030"><b>A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0031">To Miss COOPER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0033">LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0034">LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0035">LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0036">LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0037">LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0038"><b>THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0039"><b>THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0040">A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0041">A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0042"><b>A TALE.</b></a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0001"></a> +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP</h2> + +<p class="center"> +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER OBLIGED +HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0002"></a> +LETTER the FIRST<br/> +From ISABEL to LAURA</h2> + +<p> +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my Daughter +a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your Life, have you said +“No, my freind never will I comply with your request till I may be no +longer in Danger of again experiencing such dreadful ones.” +</p> + +<p> +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may ever be +said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers +and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, surely it must be at such a +time of Life. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Isabel +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0003"></a> +LETTER 2nd<br/> +LAURA to ISABEL</h2> + +<p> +Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already experienced, yet to +avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I will gratify the curiosity +of your daughter; and may the fortitude with which I have suffered the many +afflictions of my past Life, prove to her a useful lesson for the support of +those which may befall her in her own. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Laura +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0004"></a> +LETTER 3rd<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited me to +give you. +</p> + +<p> +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother was the +natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I was born in +Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. +</p> + +<p> +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to my +paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most romantic +parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably softened +and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I was once +beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my +Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was Mistress. +When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my instructions, my +Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and I had shortly surpassed my +Masters. +</p> + +<p> +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. +</p> + +<p> +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, my +Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my only fault, +if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ indeed my own +Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they ever did, yet now I +never feel for those of an other. My accomplishments too, begin to fade—I +can neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once did—and I have +entirely forgot the <i>Minuet Dela Cour</i>. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0005"></a> +LETTER 4th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She may +probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in indigent +Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical motives. There it was +our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then one and twenty. Tho’ +pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between ourselves) she never possessed +the hundredth part of my Beauty or Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. +She had passed 2 Years at one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had +spent a fortnight in Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. +</p> + +<p> +“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities and +idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the unmeaning +Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be +exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the Dissipations of +London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of Southampton? I who am +doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an humble Cottage in the Vale of +Uske.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble Cottage +for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0006"></a> +LETTER 5th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were arranged in +social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden greatly astonished, by +hearing a violent knocking on the outward door of our rustic Cot. +</p> + +<p> +My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It +sounds like a loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) +“it does indeed.” (cried I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my +Father) it certainly does appear to proceed from some uncommon violence exerted +against our unoffending door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help +thinking it must be somebody who knocks for admittance.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine on +what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone <i>does</i> rap +at the door, I am partly convinced.” +</p> + +<p> +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and somewhat +alarmed my Mother and me. +</p> + +<p> +“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added +my Father) by all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my +Mother,) “The sooner the better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no +time be lost” (cried I.) +</p> + +<p> +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) +“I think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the +servants are returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” +“I’m glad of it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it +is.” +</p> + +<p> +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, informed us +that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, who had lossed their +way, were very cold and begged leave to warm themselves by our fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no +objection, my Dear?” (said my Father.) “None in the World.” +(replied my Mother.) +</p> + +<p> +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the room and +quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable Youth, I had ever +beheld. The servant she kept to herself. +</p> + +<p> +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the sufferings of +the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold him, than I felt that +on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life must depend. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0007"></a> +LETTER 6th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us that he was +the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for many years no more +and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My Father (he continued) is +a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such particular freinds as this +Dear Party that I would thus betray his failings. Your Virtues my amiable +Polydore (addressing himself to my father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my +Charming Laura call on me to repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. +“My Father seduced by the false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of +Title, insisted on my giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. +Lady Dorothea is lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, +that I scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be +said that I obliged my Father.” +</p> + +<p> +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with so +spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of wonder +(said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have been studying +Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have been beneath my +dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful William set forth for +my Aunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in +Middlesex, and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to have +reached my Aunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without knowing +which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the bitterest and most +pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a single star was there to +direct my steps, and I know not what might have befallen me had I not at length +discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom that surrounded me a distant light, +which as I approached it, I discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. +Impelled by the combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, +Cold and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have +gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope +to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have undergone during +the course of my attachment to you, to which I have ever aspired. Oh! when will +you reward me with Yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0008"></a> +LETTER 7th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. After +taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my Isabel, I +accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa received us both +with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival was indeed a most +agreable surprise to her as she had not only been totally ignorant of my +Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had the slightest idea of there +being such a person in the World. +</p> + +<p> +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I found +her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the middle size. +She received me with equal surprise though not with equal Cordiality, as +Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and Forbidding Reserve in her +reception of me which was equally distressing and Unexpected. None of that +interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy in her manners and Address to me +when we first met which should have distinguished our introduction to each +other. Her Language was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of +regard were neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive +me to her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine. +</p> + +<p> +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I accidentally +overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me that her Heart was no +more formed for the soft ties of Love than for the endearing intercourse of +Freindship. +</p> + +<p> +“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.) +</p> + +<p> +“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion of +me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to consider my +Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of Consequence or +concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you ever know me consult his +inclinations or follow his Advice in the least trifling Particular since the +age of fifteen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years old, I +entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the satisfaction of +your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions of your being shortly +obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by seeking a support for your wife +in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” +(answered she.) +</p> + +<p> +“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for an +exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?” +</p> + +<p> +“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta). +</p> + +<p> +“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and corrupted +Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of living in every +distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of your tenderest +affection?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however you +may in time be convinced that...” +</p> + +<p> +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the Room at the +Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her announced by the Name of +“Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post and followed her into +the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was the Lady, proposed as a Wife +for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet. +</p> + +<p> +Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, +yet I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. +</p> + +<p> +I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and +tho’ Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. +</p> + +<p> +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, confided to +me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide in her, any of Mine. +You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne that I could not feel any +ardent affection or very sincere Attachment for Lady Dorothea. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0009"></a> +LETTER 8th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation</h2> + +<p> +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected a one +as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed by Augusta of +her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him for having dared +to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But Edward foreseeing his design, +approached him with heroic fortitude as soon as he entered the Room, and +addressed him in the following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with +the base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of my +Father!” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta were +doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led me from the +Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the Door and in +which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir Edward. +</p> + +<p> +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London road; as +soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them to Drive to +M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was +but a few miles distant. +</p> + +<p> +At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After having +been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for such I term +your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most truly worthy of the +Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most elegantly formed. A soft +languor spread over her lovely features, but increased their Beauty—. It +was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She was all sensibility and Feeling. +We flew into each others arms and after having exchanged vows of mutual +Freindship for the rest of our Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most +inward secrets of our Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull +Employment by the entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just +returned from a solitary ramble. +</p> + +<p> +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward and +Augustus. +</p> + +<p> +“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable +angel!” (replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. +It was too pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted +alternately on a sofa. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0010"></a> +LETTER the 9th<br/> +From the same to the same</h2> + +<p> +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from Philippa. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken +back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your charming +society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such dear and deserving +Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I trust you will return to +the arms of your” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Philippa.” +</p> + +<p> +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after thanking her +for her kind invitation assured her that we would certainly avail ourselves of +it, whenever we might have no other place to go to. Tho’ certainly +nothing could to any reasonable Being, have appeared more satisfactory, than so +gratefull a reply to her invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was +certainly capricious enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few +weeks after, either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, +married a young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ +we were sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which +Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, excite +from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might prove a source +of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling Sensibility was greatly +affected when we were first informed of the Event. The affectionate Entreaties +of Augustus and Sophia that we would for ever consider their House as our Home, +easily prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them. In the society of +my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our +time was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and in +vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being interrupted, by +intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on their first +Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care to inform the surrounding +Families, that as their happiness centered wholly in themselves, they wished +for no other society. But alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then +enjoyed was too perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at +once destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what +I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were a +happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had been +contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; who had +vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them into a Marriage +with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a Heroic Fortitude worthy to +be related and admired, they had both, constantly refused to submit to such +despotic Power. +</p> + +<p> +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of Parental +Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined never to forfeit the +good opinion they had gained in the World, in so doing, by accepting any +proposals of reconciliation that might be offered them by their +Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble independance however they +never were exposed. +</p> + +<p> +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced during +which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum of money which +Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy father’s Escritoire, +a few days before his union with Sophia. +</p> + +<p> +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses and would +have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what was their +Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus was arrested +and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the merciless perpetrators +of the Deed will shock your gentle nature Dearest Marianne as much as it then +affected the Delicate sensibility of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of +Augustus himself. To compleat such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that +an Execution in the House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but +what we did! We sighed and fainted on the sofa. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0011"></a> +LETTER 10th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our grief, +Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent step to be +taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his imprisoned freind to +lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we would, and he set forwards on +his journey to Town. During his absence we faithfully complied with his Desire +and after the most mature Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we +could do was to leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers +of Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the result of +our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we count the tedious +moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain even did we +sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too unexpected a Blow +to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we could only +faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was Mistress of, I arose and +after packing up some necessary apparel for Sophia and myself, I dragged her to +a Carriage I had ordered and we instantly set out for London. As the Habitation +of Augustus was within twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we +arrived there, and no sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of +the Front Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed +“If they had seen my Edward?” +</p> + +<p> +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated Enquiries, I +gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. “Where am I to +drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth (replied I), +to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot go to +Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus in so cruel a +confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the <i>recital</i>, +of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my Sensibility.” As I +perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her Sentiments the Postilion was +instantly directed to return into the Country. You may perhaps have been +somewhat surprised my Dearest Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, +destitute of any support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never +once have remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of +Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a +trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never mentioned. The +death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is the circumstance I +allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their House and +Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their own and their Fortune had +only been an Annuity on their own Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To +your Mother I should have returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to +have introduced to her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have +passed the remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had +not one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; which +was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of Ireland. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0012"></a> +LETTER 11th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) who +I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order +the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself, +exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the +Horses.” Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge +of the Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was +entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change +Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey—. +When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which was but a few miles +from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to intrude our Society on +him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very elegant and well penned Note +to him containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of +our intention to spend some months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had +dispatched this Letter, we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were +stepping into the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by +the Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first Appearance my +Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed at him a 2d +time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that he was my +Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my conjecture I +instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and following the +Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself on my +knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me as his Grand Child. He +started, and having attentively examined my features, raised me from the Ground +and throwing his Grandfatherly arms around my Neck, exclaimed, +“Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance of my Laurina and Laurina’s +Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my Claudia’s Mother, I do +acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and the Grandaughter of the +other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing me, Sophia astonished at my +precipitate Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner had she +caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he exclaimed with every mark of +Astonishment—“Another Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the +Daughter of my Laurina’s eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous +Matilda sufficiently proclaims it. “Oh! replied Sophia, +when I first beheld you the instinct of Nature whispered me that we were +in some degree related—But whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could +not pretend to determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they +were tenderly embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull +young Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating +back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What +an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many +of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my Laurina’s +3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence of Gustavus to +compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.” +</p> + +<p> +“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha your +Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the House.” +“None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without +farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and +remember I have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the +Room and immediately afterwards the House. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0013"></a> +LETTER the 12th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure of Lord +St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy +Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. +How long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we +found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As +we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment opened and +“Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin. The haste +with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of our Note, spoke +so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to pronounce him at first sight, +a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he little deserved the name—for +though he told us that he was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own +account it appeared that the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a +single sigh, nor induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive +stars—. He told Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with +him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy +to see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were received +with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and the Mistress of +the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally well disposed, endowed +with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic Disposition, she might, had these +amiable qualities been properly encouraged, have been an ornament to human +Nature; but unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted +to admire so promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his +power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail on her +to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They were to be +married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when we arrived. +<i>We</i> soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as one might +have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he was Sensible, +well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge of such trifles, but +as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had never read the sorrows of +Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least resemblance to auburn, we were +certain that Janetta could feel no affection for him, or at least that she +ought to feel none. The very circumstance of his being her father’s +choice too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in +every other respect yet <i>that</i> of itself ought to have been a sufficient +reason in the Eyes of Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were +determined to represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting +with the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors in +the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her own opinion, +and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her indeed all that our +warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no difficulty to convince her that +it was impossible she could love Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her +Father; the only thing at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion +that she must be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered +in declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the smallest +Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a thing she said that +she beleived she <i>did like</i> Captain M’Kenrie better than any one she +knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after having enumerated the good +Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that she was violently in love with +him, we desired to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his affection +to her. +</p> + +<p> +“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that he +has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press your +hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” +“Never (replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room +indeed when his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly +abruptly or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a moment +Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose that he could +ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having settled this +Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into consideration was, to +determine in what manner we should inform M’Kenrie of the favourable +Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at length agreed to acquaint him with +it by an anonymous Letter which Sophia drew up in the following manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +<i>her</i> Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider that a +few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that you may now +entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father’s Cruelty to +the execrable and detested Graham.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of her +and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had doubtless long +possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once secure the felicity of +both.” +</p> + +<p> +The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had been +the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of his affection +for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings of Love to +Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to her who inspired +it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the +satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which they chose for the +celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any other place although it was +at a considerable distance from Macdonald-Hall. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0014"></a> +LETTER the 13th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or Graham +had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not even then have +suspected it, but for the following little Accident. Sophia happening one day +to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s Library with one of her own keys, +discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of consequence and +amongst them some bank notes of considerable amount. This discovery she +imparted to me; and having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment +of so vile a Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly +gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us happen to +go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from the drawer. This +well meant Plan we had often successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the +very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th +Bank-note from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most impertinently +interrupted in her employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most +abrupt and precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning +sweetness could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on the +undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore her +retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing Macdonald, +without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the crime he was charged +with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his +money... The dignity of Sophia was wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, +hastily replacing the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of +an Act, of which the bare idea makes me blush?” The base wretch was still +unconvinced and continued to upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such +opprobious Language, that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness +of her Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of +Janetta’s Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the +affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you +may imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of the +malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) how +canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation of such +bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect <i>my</i> innocence as +soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I <i>do</i> suspect it, and +therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less than half an +hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have induced us to +remain so long beneath thy roof.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully exerted +by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter.” +(replied he) +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, we have +amply discharged every obligation that we have received from her father.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted +minds.” (said he.) +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left Macdonald Hall, +and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate down by the side of a +clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted limbs. The place was suited to +meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East—. A Bed +of full-grown Nettles from the West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook +and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and +in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had for +some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my +exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and +Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear +recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. +Alas, what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he is +still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to +conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I beseech you +ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. It affects me too +deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it wounds my +feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended +you—” replied I—and then changing the conversation, desired +her to admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the +Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a +subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on +those elms. They remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, +magestic—he possessed that noble grandeur which you admire in +them.” +</p> + +<p> +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her by fixing +on any other subject of conversation which might again remind her of Augustus. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I +cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own reflections; they +ever recur to Augustus.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a momentary +glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my Attention to an object +which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s blue sattin waistcoat +striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind avoid a subject so +distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time +so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had +not power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in some +unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by directing her thoughts to +her Husband. Yet to be silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. +</p> + +<p> +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly apropos; +it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the road which +ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as it diverted the +attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections which she had been before +indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue of those who +but a few moments before had been in so elevated a situation as a fashionably +high Phaeton, but who were now laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What +an ample subject for reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, +would not that Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking +Mind!” said I to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. +</p> + +<p> +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the horrid +spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but weltering in +their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we approached—they were +Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia +shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed and instantly ran +mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our senses, some minutes, and +on regaining them were deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we +continue in this unfortunate situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I +running mad as often. At length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone +retained any share of life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before +imagined that either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our +Greif—but as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no +more, we knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No +sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and kneeling on +each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He fixing +his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.” +</p> + +<p> +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested and we +were separated—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, +Expired—. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon—. <i>My</i> +greif was more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my +face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—. +</p> + +<p> +“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in +his melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s +Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of +Firs—I see a Leg of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but +they deceived me—they took him for a cucumber—” Thus I +continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward’s Death—. For two Hours +did I rave thus madly and should not then have left off, as I was not in the +least fatigued, had not Sophia who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated +me to consider that Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. +“And whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” +“To that white Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building +which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before +observed—) I agreed and we instantly walked to it—we knocked at the +door—it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to afford us a +Night’s Lodging, she informed us that her House was but small, that she +had only two Bedrooms, but that However we should be wellcome to one of them. +We were satisfied and followed the good woman into the House where we were +greatly cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and +had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of +ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing +therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to possess +either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined Sensibilities—. She +was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as +such we could scarcely dislike here—she was only an Object of +Contempt—. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0015"></a> +LETTER the 14th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are Mistress +of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the perusal of the +following Pages your sensibility will be most severely tried. Ah! what were the +misfortunes I had before experienced and which I have already related to you, +to the one I am now going to inform you of. The Death of my Father and my +Mother and my Husband though almost more than my gentle Nature could support, +were trifles in comparison to the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The +morning after our arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain +in her delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake. She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the Dew was +falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably the case; since +how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should have escaped the same +indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily Exertions I had undergone in my +repeated fits of frenzy had so effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to +make me proof against the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying +totally inactive on the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I +was most seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End be fatal +to her. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually worse—and +I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was obliged to confine +herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy Landlady—. Her +disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few days carried her off. +Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent you may suppose they were) I +yet received some consolation in the reflection of my having paid every +attention to her, that could be offered, in her illness. I had wept over her +every Day—had bathed her sweet face with my tears and had pressed her +fair Hands continually in mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me +a few Hours before she died) take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the +imprudent conduct which had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though +at the time they may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the +end, if too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my greif for +the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. Beware of swoons +Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise +to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say conducive to Health in its +consequences—Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not +faint—” +</p> + +<p> +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing Advice +to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to it. +</p> + +<p> +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I immediately +(tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she died, and +near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not walked many yards +from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in which I instantly took a +place, determined to proceed in it to Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some +kind some pitying Freind who would receive and comfort me in my afflictions. +</p> + +<p> +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish the Number +of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they were many. Regardless +however of anything concerning them, I gave myself up to my own sad +Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A silence, which was by nothing +interrupted but by the loud and repeated snores of one of the Party. +</p> + +<p> +“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) What +a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus shock our senses +by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be capable of every bad action! +There is no crime too black for such a Character!” Thus reasoned I within +myself, and doubtless such were the reflections of my fellow travellers. +</p> + +<p> +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled Scoundrel who +had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward the father of my +Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the same seat with me were +your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at finding myself thus +seated amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my astonishment, it was yet +increased, when on looking out of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, +with Philippa by his side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, +Philander and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it +possible that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations +and Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye +was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I +throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more to your +Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I +was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father and a +Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now deprived of every freind +but you—” +</p> + +<p> +“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, +(replied I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory +in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and Sir +Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole melancholy +affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of Sir Edward +and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, by the unhappy +tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them every other misfortune +which had befallen me since we parted. Of the imprisonment of Augustus and the +absence of Edward—of our arrival in Scotland—of our unexpected +Meeting with our Grand-father and our cousins—of our visit to +Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there performed towards +Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his inhuman Behaviour, +unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of us, in obliging us to +leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss of Edward and Augustus and +finally of the melancholy Death of my beloved Companion. +</p> + +<p> +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s countenance, +during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, that to the eternal +reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely predominated. Nay, faultless +as my conduct had certainly been during the whole course of my late misfortunes +and adventures, she pretended to find fault with my behaviour in many of the +situations in which I had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had +always behaved in a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and +Refinement, I paid little attention to what she said, and desired her to +satisfy my Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my +spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had complyed +with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate detail of every +thing that had befallen her since our separation (the particulars of which if +you are not already acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I applied to +Augusta for the same information respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady +Dorothea. +</p> + +<p> +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of Nature, her +curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in that part of the +World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the Highlands, that she +had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to Scotland and had persuaded +Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days +before and from thence had made daily Excursions into the Country around in the +Stage Coach they were then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that +time returning. My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the +latter of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, namely, +Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to them except their +Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to be removed from any of his +former Acquaintance, had driven it to Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling +every other Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection for her +ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him +in his little Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little +money into their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always +travelled in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival +in Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from Edinburgh to +Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in a crowded and +uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her sentiments on +the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus sacrificing his +Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old woman whose folly in +marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was +entirely of a peice with his general Character; for what could be expected from +a man who possessed not the smallest atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the +meaning of simpathy, and who actually snored—. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0016"></a> +LETTER the 15th<br/> +LAURA in continuation.</h2> + +<p> +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was determined to +speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as soon as I left the +Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired after their Health, +expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their situation. At first they seemed +rather confused at my appearance dreading no doubt that I might call them to +account for the money which our Grandfather had left me and which they had +unjustly deprived me of, but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, +they desired me to step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater +ease. Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring +green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and +sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them of every +thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and at my request +they related to me every incident of theirs. +</p> + +<p> +“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters which +Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers could neither +of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it is generally beleived +that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father +was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of little +consequence for as our Mothers were certainly never married to either of them +it reflects no Dishonour on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and +unpolluted kind. Bertha (the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) +always lived together. They were neither of them very rich; their united +fortunes had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had +always lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of the +Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the convenience of having +it always at Hand. Whether it was from this circumstance, of its being easily +taken, or from a wish of being independant, or from an excess of sensibility +(for which we were always remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is +that when we had reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran +away. Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with economy +and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose we +therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we devoted to Victuals, +the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th to Carriages, the 5th to +Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the +9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we +expected to make the nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London +and had the good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner +than we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves +from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our +Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, we gave +over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some strolling Company of +Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. Accordingly we offered our +services to one and were accepted; our Company was indeed rather small, as it +consisted only of the Manager his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to +pay and the only inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for +want of People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind +trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was +<i>Macbeth</i>, in which we were truly great. The Manager always played +<i>Banquo</i> himself, his Wife my <i>Lady Macbeth</i>. I did the <i>Three +Witches</i> and Philander acted <i>all the rest</i>. To say the truth this +tragedy was not only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and +after having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to +exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be quartered in +that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—. We were in the +Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the arms to whom it +belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our Grandfather, we agreed to +endeavour to get something from him by discovering the Relationship—. You +know how well it succeeded—. Having obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we +instantly left the Town, leaving our Manager and his Wife to act <i>Macbeth</i> +by themselves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune +with great <i>eclat</i>. We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some +preferment in the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.” +</p> + +<p> +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in their little +Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who impatiently expected me. +</p> + +<p> +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least for the +present. +</p> + +<p> +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of his son, +he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a year. I graciously +promised that I would, but could not help observing that the unsimpathetic +Baronet offered it more on account of my being the Widow of Edward than in +being the refined and amiable Laura. +</p> + +<p> +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of Scotland where +I have ever since continued, and where I can uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, +indulge in a melancholy solitude, my unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my +Father, my Mother, my Husband and my Freind. +</p> + +<p> +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all others most +suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her stay in Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the same +time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered. +</p> + +<p> +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent Garden, +where they still exhibit under the assumed names of <i>Luvis</i> and +<i>Quick</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still continues +to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis +</p> + +<p class="right"> +June 13th 1790. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0017"></a> +LESLEY CASTLE<br/> +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS</h2> + +<p class="center"> +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. +</p> + +<p> +Sir +</p> + +<p> +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me with of +dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I greive; yet fear +that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as it is carried, it should +be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is another concern to your obliged +humble +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Servant<br/> +The Author +</p> + +<p> +Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. T. Austen +</p> + +<p> +£105. 0. 0. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0018"></a> +LESLEY CASTLE</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0019"></a> +LETTER the FIRST is from<br/> +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792. +</p> + +<p> +My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, that she +might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and amiable +Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these words—the +remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the Maternal character and so +openly violated the conjugal Duties, prevented his adding anything farther; he +embraced his sweet Child and after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from +us and seating himself in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was +there a better young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has +experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! for you +know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her Child and +reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and dishonour. Never was +there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less amiable Heart than Louisa owned! +Her child already possesses the personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she +inherit from her Father all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and +twenty, and has already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a +difference between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the +Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that his Son +was really about five years back, and that <i>he</i> has affected to appear +ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about the streets of +London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of 57, Matilda and I +continue secluded from Mankind in our old and Mouldering Castle, which is +situated two miles from Perth on a bold projecting Rock, and commands an +extensive veiw of the Town and its delightful Environs. But tho’ retired +from almost all the World, (for we visit no one but the M’Leods, The +M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the M’Cartneys, the +M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the contrary +there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty girls, than we +are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We read, we work, we +walk, and when fatigued with these Employments releive our spirits, either by a +lively song, a graceful Dance, or by some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We +are handsome my dear Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our +Perfections is, that we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I +thus dwell on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice +the innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as she +reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years old; as +handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as +prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you that +she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she already knows +the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never tears her +frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense and +Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, and you will +therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming to Lesley-Castle, +and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine for yourself. Ah! my dear +Freind, how happy should I be to see you within these venerable Walls! It is +now four years since my removal from School has separated me from you; that two +such tender Hearts, so closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and +Freindship, should be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I +live in Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father +disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the same time. +We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else indeed, could we but be +at the same place together. We have only to hope that such a period may arrive. +My Father does not return to us till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in +a few Days; he is impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters +himself that change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will +join with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of the +unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to that of +your sincere freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. Lesley. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0020"></a> +LETTER the SECOND<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.</h2> + +<p> +Glenford Febry 12 +</p> + +<p> +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking you my +dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should not have +deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the last five weeks been +so fully employed in the necessary arrangements for my sisters wedding, as to +allow me no time to devote either to you or myself. And now what provokes me +more than anything else is that the Match is broke off, and all my Labour +thrown away. Imagine how great the Dissapointment must be to me, when you +consider that after having laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get +the Wedding dinner ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, +Broiled Mutton, and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through +the Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been Roasting, +Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. Indeed my dear +Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to what I experienced on +last Monday when my sister came running to me in the store-room with her face +as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me that Hervey had been thrown from his +Horse, had fractured his Scull and was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the +most emminent Danger. “Good God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in +the name of Heaven will become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to +eat it while it is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I +shall be able to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and +You and the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by +seeing my poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, +where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the Maids, +and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she was sensible, +she expressed a determination of going instantly to Henry, and was so wildly +bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest Difficulty in the World to +prevent her putting it in execution; at last however more by Force than +Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her room; we laid her upon the Bed, and +she continued for some Hours in the most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I +continued in the room with her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure +in Eloisa would allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful +Waste in our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some +plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do was to +begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the cold Ham and +Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with great Alacrity. We +would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of a Chicken, but she would +not be persuaded. She was however much quieter than she had been; the +convulsions she had before suffered having given way to an almost perfect +Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by every means in our power, but to +no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. “Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s +no occasion for your crying so much about such a trifle. (for I was willing to +make light of it in order to comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You +see it does not vex me in the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it +after all; for I shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have +dressed already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very +likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he will) I +shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry any one else. +So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may afflict you to think +of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die soon, and then his +pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my Trouble will last much +longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain that the pantry cannot be +cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did all in my power to console +her, but without any effect, and at last as I saw that she did not seem to +listen to me, I said no more, but leaving her with my Mother I took down the +remains of The Ham and Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was +not expected to live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible +care to break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in +spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too violent for +her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high Delirium. She is still +extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly afraid of her going into a +Decline. We are therefore preparing for Bristol, where we mean to be in the +course of the next week. And now my dear Margaret let me talk a little of your +affairs; and in the first place I must inform you that it is confidently +reported, your Father is going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so +unpleasing a report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have +written to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as +she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not who is +the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the resolution he has +taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to obliterate from his +remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have lately so much afflicted +him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from all the World, +neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may never know what +it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely affectionate +</p> + +<p class="right"> +C.L. +</p> + +<p> +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, which I +enclose to you, and on which you will make your own reflections. +</p> + +<p> +The enclosed LETTER +</p> + +<p> +My dear CHARLOTTE +</p> + +<p> +You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir George +Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I am. Sir George +is certainly married; I was myself present at the Ceremony, which you will not +be surprised at when I subscribe myself your +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Affectionate<br/> +Susan Lesley +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0021"></a> +LETTER the THIRD<br/> +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley Castle February the 16th +</p> + +<p> +I <i>have</i> made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my Dear +Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I reflected that +if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a second family, our fortunes +must be considerably diminushed—that if his Wife should be of an +extravagant turn, she would encourage him to persevere in that gay and +Dissipated way of Life to which little encouragement would be necessary, and +which has I fear already proved but too detrimental to his health and +fortune—that she would now become Mistress of those Jewels which once +adorned our Mother, and which Sir George had always promised us—that if +they did not come into Perthshire I should not be able to gratify my curiosity +of beholding my Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit +at the head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were +the melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately occupied +her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, whether the +probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own Consequence. We both wish very +much to know whether Lady Lesley is handsome and what is your opinion of her; +as you honour her with the appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves +that she must be amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it +in a few Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull +manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his Health and +Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa with any degree +either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself obliged to her for her +Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be single again. By this, you may +perceive that he has entirely regained that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, +for which he was once so remarkable. When he first became acquainted with +Louisa which was little more than three years ago, he was one of the most +lively, the most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet +heard the particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our +cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa Burton was +the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who dieing a few Months +before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then about eighteen to the +protection of any of his Relations who would protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the +only one who found herself so disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from +a miserable Cottage in Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from +every pecuniary Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment +that Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and +Cunning; but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the +appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, that to +be married, would be the only chance she would have of not being starved, and +who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary share of personal beauty, +joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an engaging address, she might stand a +good chance of pleasing some young Man who might afford to marry a girl without +a Shilling. Louisa perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was +determined to forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of +Perseverance and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her +natural disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose +upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her discovered +her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley first beheld her at +Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your favourite comparison) was as +delicate as sweet and as tender as a Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her +attractions. In a very few Days, he was falling in love, shortly after actually +fell, and before he had known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at +first highly displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he +found that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the bounty of his +great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely sufficient to support him +and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the first twelvemonth, no one could be +happier than Lesley, and no one more amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so +plausibly did she act and so cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I +often spent several weeks together with them, yet we neither of us had any +suspicion of her real Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one +would have thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she +had so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did indeed appear +if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she seemed to take no pains to +prevent that affection from ever diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, +were now less frequent and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our +absence was however never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the +society of young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at +one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of Matilda +and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter girls than we +are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial happiness; I will not repeat +it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I have not yet mentioned anything +of the matter, I hope you will do me the justice to beleive that I <i>think</i> +and <i>feel</i>, a great deal for your Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but +that the healthy air of the Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing +from her Mind the remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0022"></a> +LETTER the FOURTH<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</h2> + +<p> +Bristol February 27th +</p> + +<p> +My Dear Peggy</p> + +<p> +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex while I +was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from some +unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return you many +thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance, Love and +Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me for having often +been repeated to me before. +</p> + +<p> +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to imagine +our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left Particular orders with +the servants to eat as hard as they possibly could, and to call in a couple of +Chairwomen to assist them. We brought a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold +tongue, and half a dozen Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the +help of our Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in +less than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very indifferent +both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air of the Bristol +downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor Henry from her +remembrance. +</p> + +<p> +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I will +now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. She is +short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a good deal; has +fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let you know as soon as she +sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is remarkably good-tempered when +she has her own way, and very lively when she is not out of humour. She is +naturally extravagant and not very affected; she never reads anything but the +letters she receives from me, and never writes anything but her answers to +them. She plays, sings and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in +none, tho’ she says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may +flatter me so far as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little +affection should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our +freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. We spent +two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom we both happened +to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being remarkably bad, and +our party particularly stupid, she was so good as to conceive a violent +partiality for me, which very soon settled in a downright Freindship and ended +in an established correspondence. She is probably by this time as tired of me, +as I am of her; but as she is too Polite and I am too civil to say so, our +letters are still as frequent and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as +firm and sincere as when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the +pleasures of London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some +difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I dare say +she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those favourite haunts +of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable gloom of the castle you +inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her health impaired by too much +amusement, she may acquire fortitude sufficient to undertake a Journey to +Scotland in the hope of its Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not +conducive to her happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your +father’s extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your +Sister’s consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My +freind herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as much +every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will +certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living to +which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some reason to +fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune at all. The Jewels +I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and there is too much reason to +think that she will preside at her Husbands table in preference to his +Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject must necessarily extremely distress +you, I will no longer dwell on it—. +</p> + +<p> +Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family since we +came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill health of their +little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may imagine that being the only +family with whom we can converse, we are of course on a footing of intimacy +with them; we see them indeed almost every day, and dined with them yesterday. +We spent a very pleasant Day, and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure +the Veal was terribly underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not +help wishing all dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A +brother of Mrs Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a +good-looking young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I +tell Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem to +relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and Cleveland has a +very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not consider <i>myself</i> +as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but to tell you the truth I +never wish to act a more principal part at a Wedding than the superintending +and directing the Dinner, and therefore while I can get any of my acquaintance +to marry for me, I shall never think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect +that I should not have so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for +dressing that of my freinds. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yours sincerely<br/> +C. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0023"></a> +LETTER the FIFTH<br/> +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley-Castle March 18th +</p> + +<p> +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received one +from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us that he should +do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us on the following +evening. This as you may suppose considerably surprised us, particularly as +your account of her Ladyship had given us reason to imagine there was little +chance of her visiting Scotland at a time that London must be so gay. As it was +our business however to be delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit +from Sir George and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer +expressive of the happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when +luckily recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it +would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left Edinburgh, we +contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we were as happy as we +ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the following day, they came, +accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. Her Ladyship perfectly answers the +description you sent me of her, except that I do not think her so pretty as you +seem to consider her. She has not a bad face, but there is something so +extremely unmajestic in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in +comparison with the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant +Dwarf. Her curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more +than four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins to +mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. We cannot +refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of our Father, and +thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is certainly one of the most +pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not yet determined when we are to go, +but when ever we do we shall certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my +dear Charlotte; Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours +ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0024"></a> +LETTER the SIXTH<br/> +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley-Castle March 20th +</p> + +<p> +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already heartily +repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square for such a dismal +old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no idea sufficiently hideous, +of its dungeon-like form. It is actually perched upon a Rock to appearance so +totally inaccessible, that I expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and +sincerely repented having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the +expence of being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a +manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside of this +tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having my spirits +revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the Miss Lesleys had +been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, I met with nothing but +Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, +out of the way, over-grown, girls, just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle +almost as large in comparison as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you +could but behold these Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of +your wits. They will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. Besides +these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who I beleive is +some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave me a long rigmerole +story of her father and a Miss <i>Somebody</i> which I have entirely forgot. I +hate scandal and detest Children. I have been plagued ever since I came here +with tiresome visits from a parcel of Scotch wretches, with terrible +hard-names; they were so civil, gave me so many invitations, and talked of +coming again so soon, that I could not help affronting them. I suppose I shall +not see them any more, and yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do +not know what to do with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no +Drawings but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett with a +great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there is not a +creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have just had a +conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly offended me, and which as +I have nothing more entertaining to send you I will gave you the particulars +of. You must know that I have for these 4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected +William of entertaining a partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that +had <i>I</i> been inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have +made choice of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is +nothing I hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for +some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a very +great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to see him +unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry Matilda, as moreover +I know that his circumstances will not allow him to marry any one without a +fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely dependant on her Father, who will +neither have his own inclination nor my permission to give her anything at +present, I thought it would be doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let +him know as much, in order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer +his passion, or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone +with him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause to +him in the following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I do +not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me partial to +the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They are indeed so +very like Sir George that it is natural to think”— +</p> + +<p> +“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do not +really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is so very +plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I was +speaking—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.” +</p> + +<p> +“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband so +deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see any +resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion perfectly +unlike him and perfectly Handsome.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and very +handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is very +plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he). +</p> + +<p> +“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about <i>his</i> Beauty, but +your opinion of his <i>Daughters</i> is surely very singular, for if I +understood you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected +to do!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, do <i>you</i> find them plainer then?” (said I). +</p> + +<p> +“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak of +their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss Lesleys +are two very handsome young Women?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!” +</p> + +<p> +“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why what +single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly find fault +with?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I +could when I said it, in order to shame him). +</p> + +<p> +“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!” +</p> + +<p> +“They are <i>taller</i> than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy +smile.) +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, +their figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never could +strain my neck enough to look at them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in not +attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their Lustre.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure you +my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given me just +cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he said) “You +must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have offended you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least surprised at +your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these girls.”— +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet concluded +our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with their +complexion?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are so horridly pale.” +</p> + +<p> +“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of the +world, they will never be able raise more than their common stock—except +indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down these horrid old +galleries and Antichambers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they <i>have</i> but little colour, at least, it is +all their own.” +</p> + +<p> +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the impudence +by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. But you I am sure +will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it so cruelly aspersed, for +you can witness how often I have protested against wearing Rouge, and how much +I always told you I disliked it. And I assure you that my opinions are still +the same.—. Well, not bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left +the room immediately, and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing +to you. What a long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to +receive such from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that +one has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much +vexed by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to +stay and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I am now +so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, that I am +certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I shall there fore give +myself no more trouble either about him or his favourite. Adeiu my dear +girl— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yrs affectionately Susan L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0025"></a> +LETTER the SEVENTH<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</h2> + +<p> +Bristol the 27th of March +</p> + +<p> +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this week which +have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are both downright +jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two pretty Women tho’ +actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same House without falling out +about their faces. Do be convinced that you are both perfectly handsome and say +no more of the Matter. I suppose this letter must be directed to Portman Square +where probably (great as is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be +sorry to find yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields +and the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must be +very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my Mother’s +income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during Winter. I always +longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether the cold Beef there is +cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly suspicion that few people +understand the art of cutting a slice of cold Beef so well as I do: nay it +would be hard if I did not know something of the Matter, for it was a part of +my Education that I took by far the most pains with. Mama always found me +<i>her</i> best scholar, tho’ when Papa was alive Eloisa was <i>his</i>. +Never to be sure were there two more different Dispositions in the World. We +both loved Reading. <i>She</i> preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved +drawing, Pictures, and I drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than +she, and no one make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued +since we have been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes +on the superior excellence of our Employments <i>then</i> so frequent are now +no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to admire each +other’s works; I never fail listening to <i>her</i> Music, and she is as +constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till Henry Hervey made +his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his Aunt in our neighbourhood +where she established herself you know about a twelvemonth ago, his visits to +her had been at stated times, and of equal and settled Duration; but on her +removal to the Hall which is within a walk from our House, they became both +more frequent and longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs +Diana who is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum +and Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and Good-breeding. +Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour that I have often heard +her give such hints of it before his face that had not Henry at such times been +engaged in conversation with Eloisa, they must have caught his Attention and +have very much distressed him. The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I +have before hinted at, now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of +admiring each others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ +I constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even a +pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of approbation. +This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; however, I was as cool +as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and concerted a scheme of Revenge, +I was determined to let her have her own way and not even to make her a single +reproach. My scheme was to treat her as she treated me, and tho’ she +might even draw my own Picture or play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever +really liked) not to say so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ +I had for many years constantly hollowed whenever she played, <i>Bravo</i>, +<i>Bravissimo</i>, <i>her</i>, <i>Da capo</i>, <i>allegretto con +expressione</i>, and <i>Poco presto</i> with many other such outlandish words, +all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my Admiration; and so indeed I +suppose they are, as I see some of them in every Page of every Music book, +being the sentiments I imagine of the composer. +</p> + +<p> +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for alas! my +silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease her; on the +contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I am very glad +to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous custom of applauding my +Execution on the Harpsichord till you made <i>my</i> head ake, and yourself +hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for keeping your admiration to +yourself.” I never shall forget the very witty answer I made to this +speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be quite at your Ease with +respect to all such fears in future, for be assured that I shall always keep my +admiration to myself and my own pursuits and never extend it to yours.” +This was the only very severe thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have +often felt myself extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my +feelings public. +</p> + +<p> +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection for +each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for Miss Burton +could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You may imagine +therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him play her such a +trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with undiminished constancy, +notwithstanding he has been dead more than six weeks; but some People mind such +things more than others. The ill state of Health into which his loss has thrown +her makes her so weak, and so unable to support the least exertion, that she +has been in tears all this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. +Marlowe who with her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this +morning. I am sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom +we have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure Eloisa +and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and have therefore +contracted a kind of affection for each other, which does not make Tears so +inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The Marlowes are going to Town; +Cliveland accompanies them; as neither Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you +or Matilda may have better Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, +Eloisa’s spirits are so low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is +certainly by no means mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope +determine our Measures—in the mean time believe me +</p> + +<p class="right"> +and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0026"></a> +LETTER the EIGHTH<br/> +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE</h2> + +<p> +Bristol April 4th +</p> + +<p> +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of your +affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you made me of our +Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great releif to me to write to +you and as long as my Health and Spirits will allow me, you will find me a very +constant correspondent; I will not say an entertaining one, for you know my +situation suffciently not to be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and +I know my own Heart too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You +must not expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least +acquainted, or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from hearing or +inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the melancholy +effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the Happiness it once +enjoyed and which ill supports its present wretchedness. The Possibility of +being able to write, to speak, to you of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, +and your goodness will not I know refuse to read what it will so much releive +my Heart to write. I once thought that to have what is in general called a +Freind (I mean one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than +to any other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my +wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by two +confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of one to me, and +I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I say that to have some +kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to my sorrows without +endeavouring to console me was what I had for some time wished for, when our +acquaintance with you, the intimacy which followed it and the particular +affectionate attention you paid me almost from the first, caused me to +entertain the flattering Idea of those attentions being improved on a closer +acquaintance into a Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you +would be the greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that +such Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is now +almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid that +I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off writing, and I +cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you than by acting, as I +know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or Present. I am my dear Emmas +sincere freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0027"></a> +LETTER the NINTH<br/> +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Grosvenor Street, April 10th +</p> + +<p> +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot give a +greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the Desire I feel that +our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than by setting you so good an +example as I now do in answering it before the end of the week—. But do +not imagine that I claim any merit in being so punctual; on the contrary I +assure you, that it is a far greater Gratification to me to write to you, than +to spend the Evening either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous +of my appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like +to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, that +independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion of my Time to +my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a letter to write of +spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you know me well enough to be +sensible, will of itself be a sufficient Inducement (if one is necessary) to my +maintaining with Pleasure a Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your +letters to me, whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally +interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of your own +sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will only encourage and +increase them, and that it will be more prudent in you to avoid so sad a +subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing and melancholy Pleasure it +must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself to deny you so great an Indulgence, +and will only insist on your not expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own +letters; on the contrary I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and +enlivening Humour as shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull +countenance of my Eloisa. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three freinds +Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have been here. I know +you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the Beauty of three Ladies of whom +you have heard so much. Now, as you are too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I +think I may venture to inform you that I like none of their faces so well as I +do your own. Yet they are all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen +before; her Daughters I beleive would in general be said to have a finer face +than her Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a +little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which she is +superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself as many admirers +as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. I am sure you will agree +with me in saying that they can none of them be of a proper size for real +Beauty, when you know that two of them are taller and the other shorter than +ourselves. In spite of this Defect (or rather by reason of it) there is +something very noble and majestic in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and +something agreably lively in the appearance of their pretty little +Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may be majestic and the other lively, yet the +faces of neither possess that Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her +present languor is so far from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother +say of us, if they knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this +letter. It is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by +any one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either +her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more amiable are +women in that particular! One man may say forty civil things to another without +our supposing that he is ever paid for it, and provided he does his Duty by our +sex, we care not how Polite he is to his own. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, my Love, +and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and Spirits that can +be offered by her affectionate Freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. Marlowe. +</p> + +<p> +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the witty +way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when I assure you +that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0028"></a> +LETTER the TENTH<br/> +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Portman Square April 13th +</p> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> C<small>HARLOTTE</small> +</p> + +<p> +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in London +after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding your Letter here +waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I +every day more regret the serene and tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have +left, in exchange for the uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted +City. Not that I will pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal +Amusements are in the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy +them extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that every +appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those unhappy Beings +whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is out of my power to +return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my sensibility for the sufferings of +so many amiable young Men, my Dislike of the extreme admiration I meet with, +and my aversion to being so celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, +and in Printshops, that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the +Amusements so various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I +possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as +inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as yours! But +ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I have had the +small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. +</p> + +<p> +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has long +disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to require the +most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night Matilda and I +accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs Kickabout’s; we +were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable young Man in the main, +tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He is in love with +Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the Lady of the House +and curtseyed to half a score different people when my Attention was attracted +by the appearance of a Young Man the most lovely of his Sex, who at that moment +entered the Room with another Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I +beheld him, I was certain that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. +Imagine my surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of +Cleveland—I instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and +the acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the gentleman +and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) The +elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners and Delightful Bow, at +once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; but I can imagine everything he +would have said, had he opened his Mouth. I can picture to myself the +cultivated Understanding, the Noble sentiments, and elegant Language which +would have shone so conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The +approach of Sir James Gower (one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the +Discovery of any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never +commenced, and by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are +the accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! Sir +James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost always of our +Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no Cleveland—he +is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues me to Death every time +I see her by her tiresome Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! +I live in the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going +to Lady Flambeaus, who is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be +Lady Lesley, Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of +Sir George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune where +art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes her appearance +(highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful Jewels will she be decked +in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I wonder how she can herself +delight in wearing them; surely she must be sensible of the ridiculous +impropriety of loading her little diminutive figure with such superfluous +ornaments; is it possible that she can not know how greatly superior an elegant +simplicity is to the most studied apparel? Would she but Present them to +Matilda and me, how greatly should we be obliged to her, How becoming would +Diamonds be on our fine majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an +Idea should never have occurred to <i>her</i>. I am sure if I have reflected in +this manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s Jewels +too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me entertain +you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this morning from +Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he is at Naples has +turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s Bulls for annulling his +1st Marriage and has since actually married a Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and +Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the same sort of affair has befallen +his first wife the worthless Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned +Roman-catholic, and is soon to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and +Distinguished merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have +quite forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good Neighbours. +He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and to bring him his +little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and himself are equally +desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his invitation, it is at Present +very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to go without loss of time; Fitzgerald +offers to escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such +a scheme—she owns it would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the +Fellow. My Father desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few +months both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending us. +Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the Amusements +of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our Brother. “No +(says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been fool enough to travel +I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and I found it did +not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am so foolish again.” So says her +Ladyship, but Sir George still Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or +two, they may accompany us. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte<br/> +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0029"></a> +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND</h2> + +<h3>FROM<br/> +THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH<br/> +TO<br/> +THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST</h3> + +<p class="center"> +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by +</p> + +<p class="right"> +THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p> +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 4th +</p> + +<p> +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own satisfaction in +the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and predecessor Richard the +2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the rest of his life to Pomfret +Castle, where he happened to be murdered. It is to be supposed that Henry was +married, since he had certainly four sons, but it is not in my power to inform +the Reader who was his wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but +falling ill, his son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; +whereupon the King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to +Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being thus +settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son Henry who had +previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 5th +</p> + +<p> +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and amiable, +forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing Sir William again. +During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I forget what for. His +Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where he went and fought the famous +Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards married the King’s daughter Catherine, +a very agreable woman by Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this +however he died, and was succeeded by his son Henry. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 6th +</p> + +<p> +I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him and the +Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had better read some +other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in this, meaning by it only to +vent my spleen <i>against</i>, and shew my Hatred <i>to</i> all those people +whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not to give information. +This King married Margaret of Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes +were so great as almost to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign +that Joan of Arc lived and made such a <i>row</i> among the English. They +should not have burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles +between the Yorkists and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) +usually conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was +murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the +Throne. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 4th +</p> + +<p> +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which the +Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in marrying one +Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient proofs. His Wife was +Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was afterwards confined in a +Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and Avarice Henry the 7th. One of +Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has had a play written about her, +but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth reading. Having performed all these +noble actions, his Majesty died, and was succeeded by his son. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 5th +</p> + +<p> +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to draw his +picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose name was +Richard the 3rd. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +RICHARD the 3rd +</p> + +<p> +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated by +Historians, but as he was a <i>York</i>, I am rather inclined to suppose him a +very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted that he killed +his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been declared that he did +<i>not</i> kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to beleive true; and if +this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he did not kill his Wife, for if +Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the +Widow of Richard. Whether innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, +for Henry Tudor E. of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great +fuss about getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of +Bosworth, he succeeded to it. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 7th +</p> + +<p> +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of York, +by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right inferior to +hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage he had two sons +and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was married to the King of +Scotland and had the happiness of being grandmother to one of the first +Characters in the World. But of <i>her</i>, I shall have occasion to speak more +at large in future. The youngest, Mary, married first the King of France and +secondly the D. of Suffolk, by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother +of Lady Jane Grey, who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of +Scots, was yet an amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other +people were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck +and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former of whom +was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was beheaded with +the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His +Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit was his not +being <i>quite</i> so bad as his daughter Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 8th +</p> + +<p> +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were not as +well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I am myself. +It will therefore be saving <i>them</i> the task of reading again what they +have read before, and <i>myself</i> the trouble of writing what I do not +perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the principal Events +which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked Cardinal Wolsey’s +telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he was come to lay his +bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and the King’s +riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is however but +Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was entirely innocent +of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which her Beauty, her +Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not to mention her +solemn Protestations of Innocence, the weakness of the Charges against her, and +the King’s Character; all of which add some confirmation, tho’ +perhaps but slight ones when in comparison with those before alledged in her +favour. Tho’ I do not profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper +to give some and shall of course make choice of those which it is most +necessary for the Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her +letter to the King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of +this Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has +fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his +abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous depredations of +time has been of infinite use to the landscape of England in general, which +probably was a principal motive for his doing it, since otherwise why should a +Man who was of no Religion himself be at so much trouble to abolish one which +had for ages been established in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was +the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice who, tho’ universally acquitted of the +crimes for which she was beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led +an abandoned life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, +since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the +Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The Kings +last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected it. He was +succeeded by his only son Edward. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 6th +</p> + +<p> +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s death, +he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the late King +happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the Duke of +Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. This Man was on +the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat of a favourite with me, +tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that he was equal to those +first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or Gilpin. He was beheaded, of +which he might with reason have been proud, had he known that such was the +death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as it was impossible that he should be +conscious of what had never happened, it does not appear that he felt +particularly delighted with the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of +Northumberland had the care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his +trust of both so well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his +daughter in law the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading +Greek. Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was always +rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, she preserved the +same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what was generally esteemed +pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she declared herself displeased +with being appointed Queen, and while conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a +sentence in Latin and another in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband +accidentally passing that way. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +MARY +</p> + +<p> +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of England, in +spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her Cousins Mary Queen +of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the Kingdom for the misfortunes they +experienced during her Reign, since they fully deserved them, for having +allowed her to succeed her Brother—which was a double peice of folly, +since they might have foreseen that as she died without children, she would be +succeeded by that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many +were the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her reign; I +suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of Spain who in her +sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She died without issue, +and then the dreadful moment came in which the destroyer of all comfort, the +deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in her, and the Murderess of her Cousin +succeeded to the Throne.—— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +ELIZABETH +</p> + +<p> +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad Ministers—Since +wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed such extensive +mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived at, and encouraged her +in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people been asserted and beleived +that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the rest of those who filled +the cheif offices of State were deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But +oh! how blinded such writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit +despised, neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their Country +and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining for the space of +nineteen years, a <i>Woman</i> who if the claims of Relationship and Merit were +of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who condescended to place confidence in +her, had every reason to expect assistance and protection; and at length in +allowing Elizabeth to bring this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and +scandalous Death. Can any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, +this everlasting blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any +praise to Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this +bewitching Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose +only ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was abandoned +by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and vilified by all, +what must not her most noble mind have suffered when informed that Elizabeth +had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it with a most unshaken fortitude, +firm in her mind; constant in her Religion; and prepared herself to meet the +cruel fate to which she was doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed +from conscious Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible +that some hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much credit? +But this is a striking proof of <i>their</i> narrow souls and prejudiced +Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great Hall at Fortheringay +Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of February 1586—to the +everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of England in general. It +may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude my account of this ill-fated +Queen, to observe that she had been accused of several crimes during the time +of her reigning in Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader +that she was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, her +Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely done away +every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in the Reader’s +mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I shall proceed to +mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s reign. It was about +this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator who sailed round +the World, lived, to be the ornament of his Country and his profession. Yet +great as he was, and justly celebrated as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing +that he will be equalled in this or the next Century by one who tho’ now +but young, already promises to answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations +of his Relations and Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom +this work is dedicated, and my no less amiable self. +</p> + +<p> +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of Life, +yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an <i>Earl</i>, as Drake was in +that of a <i>Sailor</i>, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This unfortunate young +Man was not unlike in character to that equally unfortunate one <i>Frederic +Delamere</i>. The simile may be carried still farther, and Elizabeth the +torment of Essex may be compared to the Emmeline of Delamere. It would be +endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble and gallant Earl. It is +sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been +Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and +after performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long +survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to the +memory of Mary I should pity her. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +JAMES the 1st +</p> + +<p> +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most principal, was +his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the whole I cannot +help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several Children; +fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before his father or he +might have experienced the evils which befell his unfortunate Brother. +</p> + +<p> +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with infinite +regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member of it: yet Truth +being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am necessitated to say that in +this reign the roman Catholics of England did not behave like Gentlemen to the +protestants. Their Behaviour indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of +Parliament might justly be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir +Henry Percy tho’ certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of +that general politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions +were entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is by many +people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an enemy of the +noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and must refer all those +who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars of his life, to Mr +Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find many interesting +anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir Christopher Hatton.—His +Majesty was of that amiable disposition which inclines to Freindship, and in +such points was possessed of a keener penetration in discovering Merit than +many other people. I once heard an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the +subject I am now on reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some +amusement to <i>find it out</i>, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it +to them. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SHARADE +</p> + +<p> +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on my +whole. +</p> + +<p> +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards created +Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in the above +mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of Buckingham. On his +Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +CHARLES the 1st +</p> + +<p> +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to those of +his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve since he was her +descendant. Never certainly were there before so many detestable Characters at +one time in England as in this Period of its History; never were amiable men so +scarce. The number of them throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to +<i>five</i>, besides the inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their +King and faithful to his interests. The names of this noble five who never +forgot the duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his +Majesty, were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own +support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. While the +<i>villains</i> of the time would make too long a list to be written or read; I +shall therefore content myself with mentioning the leaders of the Gang. +Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be considered as the original Causers +of all the disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which England for many +years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am +obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally +guilty with the generality of the English, since they dared to think +differently from their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as +<i>Stuarts</i> it was their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and +imprison the unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too numerous +for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what I make myself) is +uninteresting to me; my principal reason for undertaking the History of England +being to Prove the innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself +with having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather +fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme.—As +therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the +distresses into which this King was involved through the misconduct and Cruelty +of his Parliament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him from the +Reproach of Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he has often been +charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am +certain of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions +have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that +he was a STUART. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +F<small>INIS</small> +</p> + +<p> +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0030"></a> +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0031"></a> +To Miss COOPER</h2> + +<p> +C<small>OUSIN</small> +</p> + +<p> +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every Clime in +Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I Commend to your +Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious Comments, which have +been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by your Comical Cousin +</p> + +<p class="right"> +The Author +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0033"></a> +LETTER the FIRST<br/> +From a MOTHER to her FREIND.</h2> + +<p> +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner from that +in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now arrived at that age +when it is necessary for them in some measure to become conversant with the +World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I +flatter myself that their education has been such as will not disgrace their +appearance in the World, and that <i>they</i> will not disgrace their Education +I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible +yet unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As +their progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am +willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together into +Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first <i>entrée</i> into Life, +as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad that we are to +meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward for them to enter too +wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall proceed by +degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, and +perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay +Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we +have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at Sir John +Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the +Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How they +will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I have no +fear, I only dread their health. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls <i>are out</i>. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove to the +door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they were seated thus +addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now arrived when I am to +reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours towards you during your +Education. You are this Evening to enter a World in which you will meet with +many wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn you against suffering yourselves to be +meanly swayed by the Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved +Children that if you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both +assured me that they would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow +it with attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to +amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would never give +me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had presided over their +infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such expectations and +such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you—and can +chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of your being seduced +by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. Come, then my Children (added +I) the Carriage is driving to the door, and I will not a moment delay the +happiness you are so impatient to enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, +poor Augusta could scarcely breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. +“The long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be +in the World.”—In a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s +parlour, where with her daughter she sate ready to receive us. I observed with +delight the impression my Children made on them—. They were indeed two +sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the +peculiarity of their situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and +address which could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how +delighted I must have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed +every object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in raptures +with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yrs Ever—A. F. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0034"></a> +LETTER the SECOND<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind</h2> + +<p> +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why should I +feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have experienced +before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for Willoughby than I had for +his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our feelings become more acute from +being often wounded? I must suppose my dear Belle that this is the Case, since +I am not conscious of being more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to +Neville, Fitzowen, or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the +most lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then +dear Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I weep +when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My Freinds are +all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they lament my want of +spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of releiving my melancholy, +by directing my thoughts to other objects, they have invited several of their +freinds to spend the Christmas with us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her +sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s +family will be with us next week. This is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and +Cousins; but what can the presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but +weary and distress me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our +Visitors are arrived. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet sister +Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming Woman +above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she is. She is now +about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is more blooming than I +ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, the moment she entered the +house, and she appeared equally pleased with me, attaching herself to me during +the remainder of the day. There is something so sweet, so mild in her +Countenance, that she seems more than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching +as her appearance; I could not help telling her how much she engaged my +admiration—. “Oh! Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an +inability at the moment of expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss +Jane—(I repeated)—I could not think of words to suit my +feelings—She seemed waiting for my speech—. I was +confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I could +only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my +Embarrassment and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by +saying—“My dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed +yourself—I will turn the Conversation without appearing to notice it. +“Oh! how I loved her for her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you +used to do?” said she—. “I am advised to ride by my +Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I have a Charming horse, am +uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I quite recovered from my Confusion, +and in short I ride a great deal.” “You are in the right my +Love,” said she. Then repeating the following line which was an extempore +and equally adapted to recommend both Riding and Candour— +</p> + +<p> +“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” +<i>I</i> rode once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and +tremulous a Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking +I could make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes +on my face, since I was married.” I was never so +surprised—“Married, Ma’am!” I repeated. “You may +well wear that look of astonishment, said she, since what I have said must +appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is more true than that I once was +married.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” +</p> + +<p> +“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret from him +and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might offer of revealing +it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon given in the death of my +dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears, continued Miss Jane wiping her +Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory. He fell my Sophia, while +fighting for his Country in America after a most happy Union of seven +years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a Girl, who had constantly +resided with my Father and me, passing with him and with every one as the +Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever been an only Child) had as yet +been the comforts of my Life. But no sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these +sweet Creatures fell sick and died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my +feelings must have been when as an Aunt I attended my Children to their early +Grave—. My Father did not survive them many weeks—He died, poor +Good old man, happily ignorant to his last hour of my Marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s +death?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself are the +only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been either Wife or +Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the name of Dashwood (a name +which after my Henry’s death I could never hear without emotion) and as I +was conscious of having no right to that of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of +either, and have made it a point of bearing only my Christian one since my +Father’s death.” She paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane +(said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so entertaining a story! You +cannot think how it has diverted me! But have you quite done?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, and as we +had always loved each other in idea from the high Character in which we had +ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we determined to live together. +We wrote to one another on the same subject by the same post, so exactly did +our feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we +gave and received of becoming one family, and have from that time lived +together in the greatest affection.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for +when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to +hear of equal misery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but my Sophia why <i>are you</i> unhappy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?” +</p> + +<p> +“But my love why lament <i>his</i> perfidy, when you bore so well that of +many young Men before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0035"></a> +LETTER the THIRD<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind</h2> + +<p> +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my Mother +never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who did me the +honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to sit forwards, which +is a favour about which I am very indifferent especially as I know it is +considered as confering a great obligation on me “So Miss Maria (said her +Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the Carriage) you seem very +smart to night—<i>My</i> poor Girls will appear quite to disadvantage by +<i>you</i>—I only hope your Mother may not have distressed herself to +set <i>you</i> off. Have you got a new Gown on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could +assume. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission +I seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, +for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a needless piece +of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped one? It is not my +way to find fault with People because they are poor, for I always think that +they are more to be despised and pitied than blamed for it, especially if they +cannot help it, but at the same time I must say that in my opinion your old +striped Gown would have been quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell +you the truth (I always speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of +the people in the room will not know whether you have a Gown on or +not—But I suppose you intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, +the sooner the better; and I wish you success.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—” +</p> + +<p> +“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” +Miss Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. +</p> + +<p> +“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her +Ladyship. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” +“Bread and Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a +better supper.” said Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her +Mother, as a better is always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed +excessively, as she constantly does at her Mother’s wit. +</p> + +<p> +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while riding +in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother is +always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my way in the +world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady Greville, or you +may be certain that I would never enter either her House, or her Coach with the +disagreable certainty I always have of being abused for my Poverty while I am +in them.—When we arrived at Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, +which was an hour and a half later than we were desired to be there; but Lady +Greville is too fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The +Dancing however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just as we +were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got his white +Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean time the Dancing +began and Lady Greville in passing to another room went exactly before +me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though there were +several people close to us, +</p> + +<p> +“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I +am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; perhaps you +may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she passed on +without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and leaving me very +much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr Bernard however +soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered the room, and leading +me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared from the imputation Lady +Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all the old Ladies who had heard her +speech. I soon forgot all my vexations in the pleasure of dancing and of having +the most agreable partner in the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large +Estate I could see that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she +found who had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and +accordingly when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with +<i>more</i> than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said +loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss Maria +in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I cannot agree +whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she wanted to +mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent her seeing that her +scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant.” +“Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not +he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he +abscond?” “I never heard that he did.” “At least he +died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” “Why, +was not your <i>Father</i> as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” +“Was not he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him +there.” She gave me <i>such</i> a look, and turned away in a great +passion; while I was half delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half +afraid of being thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with +me, she took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in +favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a Party of +great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss +Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen preferred +staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady +G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable ride. +</p> + +<p> +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at the +door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it should. She sent +in a message by the servant to say that “she should not get out but that +Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she wanted to speak to her, and that +she must make haste and come immediately—” “What an +impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—” +replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her +Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold. +</p> + +<p> +“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that you +may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do not +come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine +for I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an +umbrella—” I could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me +leave to keep myself dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I +shant wait—I hate my Victuals over-done—But you need not come +before the time—How does your Mother do? She is at dinner is not +she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the middle of dinner when your +Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it very cold Maria.” +said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said her +Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are +used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made your +Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride in a +Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind shews your +legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do in such a day as +this. But some sort of people have no feelings either of cold or +Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on Thursday at 5 +o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at +night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk +home—My compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be +cold—Drive on—” And away she went, leaving me in a great +passion with her as she always does. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Maria Williams. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0036"></a> +LETTER the FOURTH<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind</h2> + +<p> +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very agreable +looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her appearance, for added +to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and voice had something +peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that they inspired me with a great +curiosity to know the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she came +from, and what had befallen her, for it was then only known that she was a +relation of Mr Evelyn, and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a +favourable opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I +wished to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr +Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a +whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of necessity +obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and being determined +not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversation in the +following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?” +</p> + +<p> +“I arrived on Tuesday.” +</p> + +<p> +“You came from Derbyshire?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from +Suffolk.” You will think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you +know that I am not wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. +“Are you pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to +the one you have left?” +</p> + +<p> +“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I +longed to know for why. +</p> + +<p> +“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a poor +consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much raised, +that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. +</p> + +<p> +“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed +I do.” “You were born there I suppose?” “Yes +Ma’am I was and passed many happy years there—” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you +never spent any <i>un</i>happy one’s there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right +to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—<i>Some</i> Misfortunes I have +certainly met with.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>What</i> Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with +impatience to know every thing. “<i>None</i> Ma’am I hope that have +been the effect of any wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not +Ma’am, and have no doubt but that any sufferings you may have experienced +could arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors of +Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem unhappy my dear Miss +Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?” +“<i>Your</i> power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it is in +<i>no ones</i> power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in so +mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. +I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few moments and +looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear Miss Grenville +said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably stand in need of some +one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps +superior Judgement might authorise her to give it. I am that person, and I now +challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and Freindship, +in return to which I shall only ask for yours—” +</p> + +<p> +“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am +highly flattered by your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no +doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever +I am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall know +where to apply.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still however I had +not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of sentiment and +Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to renew my +attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you intend staying long in +this part of England Miss Grenville?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I +did not expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my +Life—. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0037"></a> +LETTER the FIFTH<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind</h2> + +<p> +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love every +day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I had this +morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my dear Musgrove. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Sackville St: Janry 7th +</p> + +<p> +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely +Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner +becoming the day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when +her Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase +it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live +within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first entered +the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was like the sight ofa +wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with admiration—She +appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate Musgrove became a +captive to your Charms before I had time to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the +happiness of adoring you, an happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. +“What said he to himself is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? +Enviable Mortal! and may he pine for her who is the object of universal +admiration, who is adored by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable +Henrietta how beautiful you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more +than Mortal. You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are +the prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in +her Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And +ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for the +death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair one will +not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in affluence above +what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an improvable Estate—. +Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I am at Present with my sister +where I mean to continue till my own house which tho’ an excellent one is +at Present somewhat out of repair, is ready to receive me. Amiable princess of +my Heart farewell—Of that Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your +most ardent Admirer and devoted humble servt. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +T. Musgrove. +</p> + +<p> +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a +master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of Thought, +such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? No, never I can +answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with by every Girl. Oh! how I +long to be with him! I intend to send him the following in answer to his Letter +tomorrow. +</p> + +<p> +My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made me; +I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than any body in +the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest Man in England, and +so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a Letter in my Life. Do write me +another just like it, and tell me you are in love with me in every other line. +I quite die to see you. How shall we manage to see one another? for we are so +much in love that we cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think +how impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will +not Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every +day of my Life. +</p> + +<p> +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her house, +and how happy every body in London must be because you are there. I hope you +will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never read such sweet +Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most truly and faithfully yours for +ever and ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Henrietta Halton. +</p> + +<p> +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write though +nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a Love-letter. I +saw him you know for the first time at Lady Scudamores—And when I saw her +Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I liked her Cousin Musgrove? +</p> + +<p> +“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love +with you from the first moment he beheld you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I would +give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first +sight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I +beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a contemptible +one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a great deal of the +World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.” +</p> + +<p> +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my conquest. +However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so I said to +her— +</p> + +<p> +“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who have no +fortune at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you can +be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to encourage your +marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a fortune with you. Mr +Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an estate of several hundreds an +year which is capable of great Improvement, and an excellent House, though at +Present it is not quite in repair.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, +and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good Love-letter, +I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for admiring me, tho’ +perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady Scudamore.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I am not +greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to yourself, cherishing a +most tender affection for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away my +head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why refuse to +confide in me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, that I +am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a handsome Man. If +he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be ashamed of a passion which +must have been mean since the object would have been unworthy. But with such a +figure and face, and such beautiful hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush +to own that such superior merit has made an impression on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a quick +discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such Noble +Sentiments!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady +Scudamore did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you +say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the invisible +power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so exactly coincide. Nay, +the colour of your Hair is not very different. Yes my dear Girl, the poor +despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the story of his Love—. Nor was I +surprised at it—I know not how it was, but I had a kind of presentiment +that he <i>would</i> be in love with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but how did he break it to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together +talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the Conversation was +cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, when on a sudden he +interrupted me in the midst of something I was saying, by exclaiming in a most +Theatrical tone— +</p> + +<p> +Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such a +couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are not in +rhime!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am very +sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, with a pretty +Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent House tho’ +somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with success to the adorable +Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel and been toasted by a +Baronet”—“<i>That</i> I have—” cried I. Lady +Scudamore continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced +of the little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, that +I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet surely neither +you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the exquisite Gratification of +dieing for her, of falling a victim to her Charms. And when I am +dead”—continued her— +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” +“When I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and +perhaps she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would not +for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. +</p> + +<p> +“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when I +feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to haste +such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta bless some +happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly attached to her as the +hapless Musgrove and while <i>he</i> crumbles to dust, May they live an example +of Felicity in the Conjugal state!” +</p> + +<p> +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be lain at my +feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have to be capable of +such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, must +melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; and could the +divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her happiness, all gentle as +is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she would pity your affection and +endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin answered he, do not endeavour +to raise my hopes by such flattering assurances. No, I cannot hope to please +this angel of a Woman, and the only thing which remains for me to do, is to +die.” “True Love is ever desponding replied I, but <i>I</i> my dear +Tom will give you even greater hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, +than I have yet given you, by assuring you that I watched her with the +strictest attention during the whole day, and could plainly discover that she +cherishes in her bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!” +</p> + +<p> +“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I to +him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might render the +pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid voice, +nothing will convince me that <i>I</i> can have touched the heart of Henrietta +Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt deceiving me.” +“In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me to Persuade the +poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference for him; but when at +last he could no longer deny the force of my arguments, or discredit what I +told him, his transports, his Raptures, his Extacies are beyond my power to +describe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my Uncle and +Aunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I told him every thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did he say.” +</p> + +<p> +“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by their +Nephews or Neices, and wished <i>he</i> were in the House of Commons, that he +might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta would +condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that splendor to which she +had been used, and accept only in exchange the Comforts and Elegancies which +his limited Income could afford her, even supposing that his house were in +Readiness to receive her. I told him that it could not be expected that she +would; it would be doing her an injustice to suppose her capable of giving up +the power she now possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to +the poorer part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you +and herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure said I, I <i>am</i> very Charitable every now and then. And +what did Mr Musgrove say to this?” +</p> + +<p> +“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the truth +of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy Creature destined +to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must bring himself to wait, +however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when she might be freed from the +power of worthless Relations and able to bestow herself on him.” +</p> + +<p> +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who am to +be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so adeiu my dear +freind, and beleive me yours etc— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. Halton. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>SCRAPS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN +</p> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> N<small>EICE</small> +</p> + +<p> +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon from +superintending your Education myself, the care of which will probably on that +account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it is my particular Duty to +Prevent your feeling as much as possible the want of my personal instructions, +by addressing to you on paper my Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of +Young Women, which you will find expressed in the following pages.— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +I am my dear Neice<br/> +Your affectionate Aunt<br/> +The Author. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0038"></a> +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER</h2> + +<h3>A LETTER</h3> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> L<small>OUISA</small> +</p> + +<p> +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath, whither he +is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him, but the eldest and +the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. Though you have often told me +that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome, you never mentioned anything of her +Sisters’ beauty; yet they are certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give +you their description.—Julia is eighteen; with a countenance in which +Modesty, Sense and Dignity are happily blended, she has a form which at once +presents you with Grace, Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen +is shorter than her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity +of Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way +as estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness the +most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She appears to +have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her conversation during the +half hour they set with us, was replete with humourous sallies, Bonmots and +repartees; while the sensible, the amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality +worthy of a heart like her own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I +had always received of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that +social Shake, and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old +and valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been +separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) that +many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which gave occasion +to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections on the many changes in +their situation which so long a period had occasioned, on the advantages of +some, and the disadvantages of others. From this subject she made a short +digression to the instability of human pleasures and the uncertainty of their +duration, which led her to observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She +was proceeding to illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great +Men when the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending five or +six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, and I assure +you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. “Louisa Clarke +(said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet sometimes her good humour is +clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. She neither wants Understanding or is +without some pretensions to Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the +value she sets on her personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be +offered are at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her +folly.” So said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the +concurrence of their own. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Your affectionate<br/> +Arabella Smythe. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0039"></a> +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY</h2> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Characters</i> +</p> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td>Popgun</td><td>Maria</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Charles</td><td>Pistolletta</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Postilion</td><td>Hostess</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Chorus of ploughboys</td><td>Cook</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>and</td><td>and</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Strephon</td><td>Chloe</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE—AN</small> I<small>NN</small> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Maria<br/> +If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Maria<br/> +Yes Mistress.—<i>exit</i> Maria +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Cook<br/> +If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Cook<br/> +I will, I will. <i>exit</i> Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Charles<br/> +If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Charles<br/> +Yes Madam. <i>exeunt</i> Severally. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE</small> M<small>OON</small>, and discovers Popgun +and Pistoletta. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Pistoletta<br/> +Pray papa how far is it to London? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Popgun<br/> +My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the picture of +thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am going to Town to marry +to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my whole Estate, it wants seven +Miles. + +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE</small> S<small>UN</small>— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Chloe<br/> +Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be +married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will sing +a song. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SONG +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I go to Town<br/> +And when I come down,<br/> +I shall be married to Streephon.*<br/> +And that to me will be fun. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[* Note the two e’s] +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Chorus +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Be fun, be fun, be fun,<br/> +And that to me will be fun. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Cook— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Cook<br/> +Here is the bill of fare. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Chloe reads<br/> +2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have the +leg of beef and the partridge. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Exit</i> Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +And now I will sing another song. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SONG +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I am going to have my dinner,<br/> +After which I shan’t be thinner,<br/> +I wish I had here Strephon<br/> +For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Chorus +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Tough one, tough one, tough one<br/> +For he would carve the partridge if it<br/> +Should be a tough one. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Exit</i> Chloe and Chorus.— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE</small> L<small>ION</small>. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Strephon and Postilion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Streph:)<br/> +You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to Town to +marry Chloe. How much is your due? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Post:<br/> +Eighteen pence. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Streph:<br/> +Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support myself in +Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I received from Chloe. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Post:<br/> +Sir, I accept your offer. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +E<small>ND OF THE FIRST</small> A<small>CT</small>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3> +<a name="link2H_4_0040"></a> +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her Judgement +led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart disapproved. +</h3> + +<p> +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved Ellinor, +and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that on a close +examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have strictly deserved them. I +murdered my father at a very early period of my Life, I have since murdered my +Mother, and I am now going to murder my Sister. I have changed my religion so +often that at present I have not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured +witness in every public tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my +own Will. In short there is scarcely a crime that I have not +committed—But I am now going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse +guards has paid his Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As +there is something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. +Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died immensely +rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice to his three +younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about eight Million to the +present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the Colonel lived tolerably +contented for nearly four months when he took it into his head to determine on +getting the whole of his eldest Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged +and the Colonel produced it in Court—but nobody would swear to it’s +being the right will except himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody +beleived him. At that moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, +and was beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready +to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply to me. +In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore to its’ +being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign all his +illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the next day with an +offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my Sister. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yours Ever,<br/> +Anna Parker. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0041"></a> +A TOUR THROUGH WALES—<br/> +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—</h2> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> C<small>LARA</small> +</p> + +<p> +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my power +to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last Monday +month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a principality +contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of Wales. We travelled +on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our little poney and Fanny and +I walked by her side or rather ran, for my Mother is so fond of riding fast +that she galloped all the way. You may be sure that we were in a fine +perspiration when we came to our place of resting. Fanny has taken a great many +Drawings of the Country, which are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such +exact resemblances as might be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. +It would astonish you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We +determined to take a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our +own besides those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both +capped and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone, +Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which we each +took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +I am your ever affectionate<br/> +Elizabeth Johnson. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0042"></a> +A TALE.</h2> + +<p> +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage in +Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested to him by +his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a Closet for him, +provided he would take a small house near the borders of an extensive Forest, +and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus gladly accepted the offer and +continued for some time searching after such a retreat when he was one morning +agreably releived from his suspence by reading this advertisement in a +Newspaper. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +T<small>O BE</small> L<small>ETT</small> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three Miles from +the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a Closet. +</p> + +<p> +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and shewed +him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him in his Carriage +to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for three days and six +nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest and following a track which +led by it’s side down a steep Hill over which ten Rivulets meandered, +they reached the Cottage in half an hour. Wilhelminus alighted, and after +knocking for some time without receiving any answer or hearing any one stir +within, he opened the door which was fastened only by a wooden latch and +entered a small room, which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that +were unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A +pair of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less +destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the House. He +was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the comfort of +reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything on furniture +himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took him the next +day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was requisite to furnish the +two rooms and the Closet, In a few days everything was completed, and +Wilhelminus returned to take possession of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied +him, with his Lady the amiable Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and +Marina to whom Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of +Attendants.—An ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in +endeavouring to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable +presence of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in +an open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was both +simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by four +sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and that happy +ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of Wilhelminus’s most +striking Virtues. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/1212-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/1212-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..02f2348 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1212-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/old/1212.txt b/old/old/1212.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1be4f02 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1212.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3799 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Love And Freindship And Other Early Works, by Jane Austen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Love And Freindship And Other Early Works + (Love And Friendship) A collection of juvenile writings + +Author: Jane Austen + +Posting Date: August 24, 2008 [EBook #1212] +Release Date: February, 1998 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE AND FREINDSHIP *** + + + + + + + + + + +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP AND OTHER EARLY WORKS + +(Love And Friendship And Other Early Works) + +A Collection of Juvenile Writings + +By Jane Austen + + + +Transcriber's Note: A few very small changes have been made to this +version: Italics have been converted to capitals. The British 'pound' +symbol has been converted to 'L'; but in general the author's erratic +spelling, punctuation and capitalisations have been retained. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + Love and Freindship + Lesley Castle + The History of England + Collection of Letters + Scraps + + + + + +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + + + + TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL + IS INSCRIBED BY HER + OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT + + THE AUTHOR. + + + "Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love." + + + + +LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA + +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my +Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your +Life, have you said "No, my freind never will I comply with your request +till I may be no longer in Danger of again experiencing such dreadful +ones." + +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman +may ever be said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of +disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, +surely it must be at such a time of Life. Isabel + + + + +LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL + +Altho' I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already experienced, +yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I will gratify +the curiosity of your daughter; and may the fortitude with which I have +suffered the many afflictions of my past Life, prove to her a useful +lesson for the support of those which may befall her in her own. Laura + + + + +LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE + +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited +me to give you. + +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother +was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl--I +was born in Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. + +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to +my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most +romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho' my Charms are now considerably +softened and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I +was once beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were the +least of my Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, +I was Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my +instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and I had +shortly surpassed my Masters. + +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. + +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, +my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my +only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho' +indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they +ever did, yet now I never feel for those of an other. My accomplishments +too, begin to fade--I can neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully +as I once did--and I have entirely forgot the MINUET DELA COUR. Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE + +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She +may probably have already told you that being left by her Parents +in indigent Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical +motives. There it was our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then +one and twenty. Tho' pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between +ourselves) she never possessed the hundredth part of my Beauty or +Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at +one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in +Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. + +"Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities +and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the +unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton." + +"Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never +be exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the +Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of +Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an +humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske." + +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble +Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE + +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were +arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden +greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the outward door of +our rustic Cot. + +My Father started--"What noise is that," (said he.) "It sounds like a +loud rapping at the door"--(replied my Mother.) "it does indeed." (cried +I.) "I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it certainly does appear +to proceed from some uncommon violence exerted against our unoffending +door." "Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help thinking it must be somebody who +knocks for admittance." + +"That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine +on what motive the person may knock--tho' that someone DOES rap at the +door, I am partly convinced." + +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and +somewhat alarmed my Mother and me. + +"Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out." "I think we had." (replied I.) "Certainly, (added my Father) +by all means." "Shall we go now?" (said my Mother,) "The sooner the +better." (answered he.) "Oh! let no time be lost" (cried I.) + +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. "I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door." (said my Mother.) +"I think there must," (replied my Father) "I fancy the servants are +returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door." "I'm glad of +it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it is." + +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, +informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, who +had lossed their way, were very cold and begged leave to warm themselves +by our fire. + +"Won't you admit them?" (said I.) "You have no objection, my Dear?" +(said my Father.) "None in the World." (replied my Mother.) + +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the room +and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable Youth, I +had ever beheld. The servant she kept to herself. + +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the +sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold +him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life +must depend. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE + +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay--for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us that +he was the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for many +years no more and that he had a Sister of the middle size. "My Father +(he continued) is a mean and mercenary wretch--it is only to such +particular freinds as this Dear Party that I would thus betray his +failings. Your Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my +father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to +repose in you, my confidence." We bowed. "My Father seduced by the false +glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, insisted on my giving +my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is lovely +and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, that I scorn to +marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be said +that I obliged my Father." + +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. + +"Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with +so spirited an opposition to his will. "Where, Edward in the name of +wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have +been studying Novels I suspect." I scorned to answer: it would have +been beneath my dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful +William set forth for my Aunts." + +"My Father's house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt's in Middlesex, +and tho' I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to +have reached my Aunts." + +"After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without +knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the +bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a +single star was there to direct my steps, and I know not what might have +befallen me had I not at length discerned thro' the solemn Gloom that +surrounded me a distant light, which as I approached it, I discovered +to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. Impelled by the combination +of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold and Hunger I +hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have gained; and +now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope +to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have undergone +during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have ever aspired. +Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?" + +"This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward." (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho' he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. Adeiu Laura + + + + +LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE + +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. +After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my +Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt's in Middlesex. Philippa +received us both with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival +was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as she had not only been +totally ignorant of my Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had +the slightest idea of there being such a person in the World. + +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. +I found her exactly what her Brother had described her to be--of the +middle size. She received me with equal surprise though not with equal +Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and Forbidding +Reserve in her reception of me which was equally distressing and +Unexpected. None of that interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy +in her manners and Address to me when we first met which should have +distinguished our introduction to each other. Her Language was neither +warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were neither animated +nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to her Heart, tho' +my own were extended to press her to mine. + +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I +accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me +that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love than for the +endearing intercourse of Freindship. + +"But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?" (said Augusta.) + +"Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion of +me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to consider +my Father's Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of Consequence +or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you ever know +me consult his inclinations or follow his Advice in the least trifling +Particular since the age of fifteen?" + +"Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years +old, I entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the +satisfaction of your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions +of your being shortly obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by +seeking a support for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward." + +"Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?" + +"Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink." (answered +she.) + +"Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for +an exalted mind (such as is my Laura's) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?" + +"None that I know of, so efficacious." (returned Augusta). + +"And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and +corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of +living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of +your tenderest affection?" + +"You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however +you may in time be convinced that..." + +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the Room +at the Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her announced by +the Name of "Lady Dorothea," I instantly quitted my Post and followed +her into the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was the Lady, +proposed as a Wife for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet. + +Altho' Lady Dorothea's visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, yet +I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. + +I soon perceived that tho' Lovely and Elegant in her Person and tho' +Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. + +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, +confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide +in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne +that I could not feel any ardent affection or very sincere Attachment +for Lady Dorothea. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected +a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed +by Augusta of her Brother's marriage, came doubtless to reproach him for +having dared to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But Edward +foreseeing his design, approached him with heroic fortitude as soon as +he entered the Room, and addressed him in the following Manner. + +"Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here--You come with the +base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act--. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of +my Father!" + +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta +were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led +me from the Parlour to his Father's Carriage which yet remained at the +Door and in which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir +Edward. + +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London +road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them +to Drive to M----. the seat of Edward's most particular freind, which +was but a few miles distant. + +At M----. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward's freind. After +having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for +such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most +truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most +elegantly formed. A soft languor spread over her lovely features, but +increased their Beauty--. It was the Charectarestic of her Mind--. She +was all sensibility and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and after +having exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our Lives, +instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our +Hearts--. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by the +entrance of Augustus, (Edward's freind) who was just returned from a +solitary ramble. + +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward and +Augustus. + +"My Life! my Soul!" (exclaimed the former) "My adorable angel!" (replied +the latter) as they flew into each other's arms. It was too pathetic +for the feelings of Sophia and myself--We fainted alternately on a sofa. +Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 9th From the same to the same + +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from +Philippa. + +"Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has +taken back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your +charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such +dear and deserving Freinds--When your Visit to them is terminated, I +trust you will return to the arms of your" "Philippa." + +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after +thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would certainly +avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other place to go to. +Tho' certainly nothing could to any reasonable Being, have appeared more +satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply to her invitation, yet I know +not how it was, but she was certainly capricious enough to be displeased +with our behaviour and in a few weeks after, either to revenge our +Conduct, or releive her own solitude, married a young and illiterate +Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho' we were sensible that it would +probably deprive us of that fortune which Philippa had ever taught us to +expect) could not on our own accounts, excite from our exalted minds a +single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might prove a source of endless misery +to the deluded Bride, our trembling Sensibility was greatly affected +when we were first informed of the Event. The affectionate Entreaties of +Augustus and Sophia that we would for ever consider their House as our +Home, easily prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them, In +the society of my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest +moments of my Life; Our time was most delightfully spent, in mutual +Protestations of Freindship, and in vows of unalterable Love, in which +we were secure from being interrupted, by intruding and disagreable +Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on their first Entrance in the +Neighbourhood, taken due care to inform the surrounding Families, that +as their happiness centered wholly in themselves, they wished for no +other society. But alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then +enjoyed was too perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow +at once destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be +from what I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that +there never were a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that +their union had been contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel +and Mercenery Parents; who had vainly endeavoured with obstinate +Perseverance to force them into a Marriage with those whom they had ever +abhorred; but with a Heroic Fortitude worthy to be related and admired, +they had both, constantly refused to submit to such despotic Power. + +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of +Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined +never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in the World, in +so doing, by accepting any proposals of reconciliation that might be +offered them by their Fathers--to this farther tryal of their noble +independance however they never were exposed. + +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced +during which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum of +money which Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy father's +Escritoire, a few days before his union with Sophia. + +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho' their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses and +would have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.--Alas! what was +their Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus +was arrested and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the +merciless perpetrators of the Deed will shock your gentle nature Dearest +Marianne as much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility of +Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat such +unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the House +would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what we did! We +sighed and fainted on the sofa. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation + +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our +grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent +step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his +imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we +would, and he set forwards on his journey to Town. During his absence +we faithfully complied with his Desire and after the most mature +Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we could do was +to leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers +of Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the +result of our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we +count the tedious moments of his absence--in vain did we weep--in +vain even did we sigh--no Edward returned--. This was too cruel, too +unexpected a Blow to our Gentle Sensibility--we could not support it--we +could only faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was Mistress +of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for Sophia and +myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and we instantly set +out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus was within twelve miles +of Town, it was not long e'er we arrived there, and no sooner had we +entered Holboun than letting down one of the Front Glasses I enquired of +every decent-looking Person that we passed "If they had seen my Edward?" + +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated +Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. +"Where am I to drive?" said the Postilion. "To Newgate Gentle Youth +(replied I), to see Augustus." "Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot +go to Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus +in so cruel a confinement--my feelings are sufficiently shocked by +the RECITAL, of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my +Sensibility." As I perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her +Sentiments the Postilion was instantly directed to return into the +Country. You may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest +Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any support, +and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have remembered +my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of Uske. To +account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a trifling +circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never mentioned. The +death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is the circumstance +I allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their +House and Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their own and +their Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own Lives. Such is +the Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have returned with +Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to her, my charming +Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the remainder of my +Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had not one obstacle +to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; which was the +Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of Ireland. Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation + +"I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) who +I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me." "Shall I order the Boy +to drive there?" said I--but instantly recollecting myself, exclaimed, +"Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses." Unwilling +however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge of the Strength and +Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was entirely of my +Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change Horses +at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey--. When +we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which was but a few miles +from the House of Sophia's Relation, unwilling to intrude our Society on +him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very elegant and well +penned Note to him containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy +Situation, and of our intention to spend some months with him in +Scotland. As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, we immediately +prepared to follow it in person and were stepping into the Carriage +for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the Entrance of +a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman considerably +advanced in years descended from it. At his first Appearance my +Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e'er I had gazed at him a 2d +time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that he was my +Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my conjecture I +instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and following the +Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself +on my knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me as his Grand +Child. He started, and having attentively examined my features, raised +me from the Ground and throwing his Grand-fatherly arms around my Neck, +exclaimed, "Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance of my Laurina and +Laurina's Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my Claudia's Mother, +I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and the Grandaughter of +the other." While he was thus tenderly embracing me, Sophia astonished +at my precipitate Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner +had she caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he exclaimed with +every mark of Astonishment--"Another Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you +are the Daughter of my Laurina's eldest Girl; your resemblance to the +beauteous Matilda sufficiently proclaims it. "Oh!" replied Sophia, "when +I first beheld you the instinct of Nature whispered me that we were in +some degree related--But whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could +not pretend to determine." He folded her in his arms, and whilst they +were tenderly embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most +beautifull young Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started +and retreating back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, "Another +Grand-child! What an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the +space of 3 minutes, as many of my Descendants! This I am certain is +Philander the son of my Laurina's 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there +wants now but the presence of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my +Laurina's Grand-Children." + +"And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha +your Laurina's 4th and youngest Daughter," "I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair--But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the +House." "None my Lord." "Then I will provide for you all without farther +delay--Here are 4 Banknotes of 50L each--Take them and remember I +have done the Duty of a Grandfather." He instantly left the Room and +immediately afterwards the House. Adeiu, Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation + +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure +of Lord St Clair. "Ignoble Grand-sire!" exclaimed Sophia. "Unworthy +Grandfather!" said I, and instantly fainted in each other's arms. How +long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered +we found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the +Banknotes. As we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the +Apartment opened and "Macdonald" was announced. He was Sophia's cousin. +The haste with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt +of our Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to +pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! +he little deserved the name--for though he told us that he was much +concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it appeared that +the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a single sigh, nor +induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive stars--. He told +Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with him to +Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin's freind he should be happy +to see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were +received with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and +the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally +well disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic +Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly +encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but unfortunately her +Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted to admire so promising +a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his power +to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail +on her to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They +were to be married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when +we arrived. WE soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as +one might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he was +Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge of +such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had +never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least +resemblance to auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no +affection for him, or at least that she ought to feel none. The very +circumstance of his being her father's choice too, was so much in his +disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in every other respect yet +THAT of itself ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of +Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to +represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting with +the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors in +the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her own +opinion, and a suitable contempt of her father's. We found her indeed +all that our warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no difficulty +to convince her that it was impossible she could love Graham, or that it +was her Duty to disobey her Father; the only thing at which she rather +seemed to hesitate was our assertion that she must be attached to some +other Person. For some time, she persevered in declaring that she knew +no other young man for whom she had the the smallest Affection; but upon +explaining the impossibility of such a thing she said that she beleived +she DID LIKE Captain M'Kenrie better than any one she knew besides. This +confession satisfied us and after having enumerated the good Qualities +of M'Kenrie and assured her that she was violently in love with him, we +desired to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his affection +to her. + +"So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that +he has ever felt any for me." said Janetta. "That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt--. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration--tenderly press +your hand--drop an involantary tear--and leave the room abruptly?" +"Never (replied she) that I remember--he has always left the room indeed +when his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly +abruptly or without making a bow." Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken--for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a +moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose +that he could ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person." +Having settled this Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into +consideration was, to determine in what manner we should inform M'Kenrie +of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at length +agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter which Sophia drew +up in the following manner. + +"Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +HER Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider +that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that +you may now entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father's +Cruelty to the execrable and detested Graham." + +"Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of +her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had +doubtless long possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once +secure the felicity of both." + +The amiable M'Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had +been the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of +his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings of +Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to her +who inspired it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia and +I experienced the satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, +which they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, in preference +to any other place although it was at a considerable distance from +Macdonald-Hall. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation + +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or +Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not +even then have suspected it, but for the following little Accident. +Sophia happening one day to open a private Drawer in Macdonald's Library +with one of her own keys, discovered that it was the Place where he +kept his Papers of consequence and amongst them some bank notes of +considerable amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and having +agreed together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a Wretch +as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly gained, it was +determined that the next time we should either of us happen to go that +way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from the drawer. This +well meant Plan we had often successfully put in Execution; but alas! +on the very day of Janetta's Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing +the 5th Bank-note from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly +most impertinently interrupted in her employment by the entrance of +Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and precipitate Manner. Sophia (who +though naturally all winning sweetness could when occasions demanded it +call forth the Dignity of her sex) instantly put on a most forbidding +look, and darting an angry frown on the undaunted culprit, demanded in +a haughty tone of voice "Wherefore her retirement was thus insolently +broken in on?" The unblushing Macdonald, without even endeavouring to +exculpate himself from the crime he was charged with, meanly endeavoured +to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his money... The +dignity of Sophia was wounded; "Wretch (exclaimed she, hastily replacing +the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of an Act, +of which the bare idea makes me blush?" The base wretch was still +unconvinced and continued to upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such +opprobious Language, that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle +sweetness of her Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by +informing him of Janetta's Elopement, and of the active Part we had +both taken in the affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered the +Library and was as you may imagine equally offended as Sophia at the +ill-grounded accusations of the malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. +"Base Miscreant! (cried I) how canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to +sully the spotless reputation of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou +not suspect MY innocence as soon?" "Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I +DO suspect it, and therefore must desire that you will both leave this +House in less than half an hour." + +"We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have induced +us to remain so long beneath thy roof." + +"Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully exerted +by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter." +(replied he) + +"Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, +we have amply discharged every obligation that we have received from her +father." + +"It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted minds." +(said he.) + +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left +Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half we +sate down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted +limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms +sheltered us from the East--. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the +West--. Before us ran the murmuring brook and behind us ran the +turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and in a Disposition +to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had for some time +reigned between us, was at length broke by my exclaiming--"What a lovely +scene! Alas why are not Edward and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties +with us?" + +"Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity's sake forbear recalling +to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas, +what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he is +still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far +to conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not +I beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name--. It +affects me too deeply--. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it wounds +my feelings." + +"Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you--" replied +I--and then changing the conversation, desired her to admire the noble +Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr. "Alas! +my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a subject, I intreat you. +Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms. They +remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic--he possessed +that noble grandeur which you admire in them." + +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her by +fixing on any other subject of conversation which might again remind her +of Augustus. + +"Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) "I cannot +support this silence you must not leave me to my own reflections; they +ever recur to Augustus." + +"What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!" + +"Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a momentary +glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my Attention to +an object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus's blue sattin +waistcoat striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind avoid a +subject so distressing." What could I do? The feelings of Sophia were +at that time so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for Augustus so +poignant that I had not power to start any other topic, justly fearing +that it might in some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility +by directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be silent would be +cruel; she had intreated me to talk. + +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly +apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman's Phaeton, on the +road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident +as it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections +which she had been before indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and +ran to the rescue of those who but a few moments before had been in so +elevated a situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were +now laid low and sprawling in the Dust. "What an ample subject for +reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that +Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!" said I +to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. + +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the +horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired +but weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes--we +approached--they were Edward and Augustus--. Yes dearest Marianne they +were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on the ground--I screamed +and instantly ran mad--. We remained thus mutually deprived of our +senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of them +again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate +situation--Sophia fainting every moment and I running mad as often. At +length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share +of life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that +either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif--but +as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, +we knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. +No sooner did we therefore hear my Edward's groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and +kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die--. "Laura (said He +fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned." + +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. + +"Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested +and we were separated--" + +"I will" (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired--. Sophia +immediately sank again into a swoon--. MY greif was more audible. My +Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my face became as pale +as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired--. + +"Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)--Give me a violin--. I'll play to him and sooth him in his +melancholy Hours--Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid's Thunderbolts, avoid +the piercing shafts of Jupiter--Look at that grove of Firs--I see a Leg +of Mutton--They told me Edward was not Dead; but they deceived me--they +took him for a cucumber--" Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my +Edward's Death--. For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not +then have left off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia +who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that +Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. "And +whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?" "To that white +Cottage." (replied she pointing to a neat Building which rose up amidst +the grove of Elms and which I had not before observed--) I agreed and we +instantly walked to it--we knocked at the door--it was opened by an old +woman; on being requested to afford us a Night's Lodging, she informed +us that her House was but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but +that However we should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied and +followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly cheered +by the sight of a comfortable fire--. She was a widow and had only one +Daughter, who was then just seventeen--One of the best of ages; but +alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing therfore +could be expected from her--she could not be supposed to possess either +exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined Sensibilities--. She was +nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; +as such we could scarcely dislike here--she was only an Object of +Contempt--. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation + +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are +Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the +perusal of the following Pages your sensibility will be most severely +tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I had before experienced and which +I have already related to you, to the one I am now going to inform you +of. The Death of my Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost +more than my gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison +to the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after +our arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in her +delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the +Dew was falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably +the case; since how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should +have escaped the same indisposition, but by supposing that the +bodily Exertions I had undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so +effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against +the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive +on the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I was most +seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End be +fatal to her. + +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually +worse--and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was +obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy +Landlady--. Her disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few +days carried her off. Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent +you may suppose they were) I yet received some consolation in the +reflection of my having paid every attention to her, that could be +offered, in her illness. I had wept over her every Day--had bathed her +sweet face with my tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in +mine--. "My beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) +take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which +had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though at the time they +may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if +too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my greif +for the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. Beware +of swoons Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; +it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say +conducive to Health in its consequences--Run mad as often as you chuse; +but do not faint--" + +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing +Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to +it. + +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I +immediately (tho' late at night) left the detested Village in which +she died, and near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not +walked many yards from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, +in which I instantly took a place, determined to proceed in it to +Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some kind some pitying Freind who would +receive and comfort me in my afflictions. + +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish +the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they were +many. Regardless however of anything concerning them, I gave myself up +to my own sad Reflections. A general silence prevailed--A silence, which +was by nothing interrupted but by the loud and repeated snores of one of +the Party. + +"What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) What +a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus shock our +senses by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be capable of every +bad action! There is no crime too black for such a Character!" Thus +reasoned I within myself, and doubtless such were the reflections of my +fellow travellers. + +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled Scoundrel +who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward the father +of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the same seat +with me were your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at +finding myself thus seated amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my +astonishment, it was yet increased, when on looking out of Windows, +I beheld the Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his side, on the +Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander and Gustavus in +the Basket. "Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible that I should +so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and Connections?" +These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye was directed to +the corner in which I sat. "Oh! my Isabel (continued I throwing myself +across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more to your Bosom the +unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I was +happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father and +a Mother, and had never known misfortunes--But now deprived of every +freind but you--" + +"What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?" "Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, (replied I) +that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory in +being the Heiress of Sir Edward's fortune." + +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and +Sir Edward's intreaties that I would inform them of the whole melancholy +affair. They were greatly shocked--even the obdurate Heart of Sir Edward +and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, by the +unhappy tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them every +other misfortune which had befallen me since we parted. Of the +imprisonment of Augustus and the absence of Edward--of our arrival +in Scotland--of our unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our +cousins--of our visit to Macdonald-Hall--of the singular service we +there performed towards Janetta--of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of +his inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment +of us, in obliging us to leave the House.. of our lamentations on the +loss of Edward and Augustus and finally of the melancholy Death of my +beloved Companion. + +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother's countenance, +during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, that to the +eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely predominated. +Nay, faultless as my conduct had certainly been during the whole course +of my late misfortunes and adventures, she pretended to find fault with +my behaviour in many of the situations in which I had been placed. As +I was sensible myself, that I had always behaved in a manner which +reflected Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid little attention +to what she said, and desired her to satisfy my Curiosity by informing +me how she came there, instead of wounding my spotless reputation with +unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had complyed with my wishes in +this particular and had given me an accurate detail of every thing that +had befallen her since our separation (the particulars of which if you +are not already acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I applied to +Augusta for the same information respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady +Dorothea. + +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of Nature, +her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in that part +of the World had been so much raised by Gilpin's Tour to the Highlands, +that she had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to Scotland and +had persuaded Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they had arrived at +Edinburgh a few Days before and from thence had made daily Excursions +into the Country around in the Stage Coach they were then in, from one +of which Excursions they were at that time returning. My next enquiries +were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter of whom I learned +having spent all her fortune, had recourse for subsistence to the talent +in which, he had always most excelled, namely, Driving, and that +having sold every thing which belonged to them except their Coach, had +converted it into a Stage and in order to be removed from any of his +former Acquaintance, had driven it to Edinburgh from whence he went to +Sterling every other Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection +for her ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and generally +accompanied him in his little Excursions to Sterling. "It has only been +to throw a little money into their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my +Father has always travelled in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the +Country since our arrival in Scotland--for it would certainly have been +much more agreable to us, to visit the Highlands in a Postchaise +than merely to travel from Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling +to Edinburgh every other Day in a crowded and uncomfortable Stage." I +perfectly agreed with her in her sentiments on the affair, and secretly +blamed Sir Edward for thus sacrificing his Daughter's Pleasure for the +sake of a ridiculous old woman whose folly in marrying so young a man +ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was entirely of a peice +with his general Character; for what could be expected from a man who +possessed not the smallest atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the +meaning of simpathy, and who actually snored--. Adeiu Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation. + +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was determined +to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as soon as +I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired after +their Health, expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their situation. +At first they seemed rather confused at my appearance dreading no doubt +that I might call them to account for the money which our Grandfather +had left me and which they had unjustly deprived me of, but finding +that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to step into +the Basket as we might there converse with greater ease. Accordingly I +entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring green tea and +buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and sentimental +Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them of every thing +which had befallen me during the course of my life, and at my request +they related to me every incident of theirs. + +"We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters +which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers +could neither of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it +is generally beleived that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones +a Bricklayer and that my Father was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of +Edinburgh. This is however of little consequence for as our Mothers were +certainly never married to either of them it reflects no Dishonour on +our Blood, which is of a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha (the +Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived together. +They were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes had +originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had always +lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one +of the Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the +convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether it was from this +circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from a wish of being +independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for which we were always +remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is that when we had +reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran away. +Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with eoconomy +and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose +we therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we devoted to +Victuals, the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th to Carriages, +the 5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th +to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged our +Expences for two months (for we expected to make the nine Hundred Pounds +last as long) we hastened to London and had the good luck to spend it in +7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner than we had intended. As soon +as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves from the weight of +so much money, we began to think of returning to our Mothers, but +accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, we gave over +the design and determined to engage ourselves to some strolling Company +of Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. Accordingly we +offered our services to one and were accepted; our Company was +indeed rather small, as it consisted only of the Manager his wife +and ourselves, but there were fewer to pay and the only inconvenience +attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for want of People to fill +the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind trifles however--. +One of our most admired Performances was MACBETH, in which we were +truly great. The Manager always played BANQUO himself, his Wife my LADY +MACBETH. I did the THREE WITCHES and Philander acted ALL THE REST. To +say the truth this tragedy was not only the Best, but the only Play +that we ever performed; and after having acted it all over England, and +Wales, we came to Scotland to exhibit it over the remainder of Great +Britain. We happened to be quartered in that very Town, where you came +and met your Grandfather--. We were in the Inn-yard when his Carriage +entered and perceiving by the arms to whom it belonged, and knowing +that Lord St Clair was our Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get +something from him by discovering the Relationship--. You know how well +it succeeded--. Having obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly +left the Town, leaving our Manager and his Wife to act MACBETH by +themselves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our little +fortune with great ECLAT. We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to +get some preferment in the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our +History." + +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in +their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who impatiently +expected me. + +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least +for the present. + +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of his +son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a year. I +graciously promised that I would, but could not help observing that the +unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on account of my being the Widow +of Edward than in being the refined and amiable Laura. + +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands +of Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can +uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy solitude, my +unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my Mother, my Husband +and my Freind. + +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all +others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her +stay in Scotland. + +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the +same time married Lady Dorothea--. His wishes have been answered. + +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent +Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of LUVIS and +QUICK. + +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still +continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:--Adeiu my +Dearest Marianne. Laura. + +Finis + +June 13th 1790. + + + + +***** + + + + +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + + +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. + +Sir + +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured +me with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I +greive; yet fear that from me, it will always remain so; that as far +as it is carried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is +another concern to your obliged humble Servant + +The Author + + +Messrs Demand and Co--please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. + +H. T. Austen + +L105. 0. 0. + +***** + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE + + + + +LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE +LUTTERELL. Lesley Castle Janry 3rd--1792. + +My Brother has just left us. "Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, that +she might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and amiable +Mother." Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these words--the +remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the Maternal character +and so openly violated the conjugal Duties, prevented his adding +anything farther; he embraced his sweet Child and after saluting Matilda +and Me hastily broke from us and seating himself in his Chaise, pursued +the road to Aberdeen. Never was there a better young Man! Ah! how little +did he deserve the misfortunes he has experienced in the Marriage state. +So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! for you know my dear Charlotte that +the Worthless Louisa left him, her Child and reputation a few weeks ago +in company with Danvers and dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, a +finer form, or a less amiable Heart than Louisa owned! Her child already +possesses the personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she inherit +from her Father all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and +twenty, and has already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; +what a difference between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still +remains the Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly +Youngster, that his Son was really about five years back, and that HE +has affected to appear ever since my remembrance. While our father is +fluttering about the streets of London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless +at the age of 57, Matilda and I continue secluded from Mankind in our +old and Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from Perth on a +bold projecting Rock, and commands an extensive veiw of the Town and its +delightful Environs. But tho' retired from almost all the World, (for +we visit no one but the M'Leods, The M'Kenzies, the M'Phersons, the +M'Cartneys, the M'Donalds, The M'kinnons, the M'lellans, the M'kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the +contrary there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty +girls, than we are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We +read, we work, we walk, and when fatigued with these Employments releive +our spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, or by some smart +bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are handsome my dear Charlotte, very +handsome and the greatest of our Perfections is, that we are entirely +insensible of them ourselves. But why do I thus dwell on myself! Let me +rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice the innocent Louisa, +who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as she reposes on the +sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years old; as handsome as +tho' 2 and 20, as sensible as tho' 2 and 30, and as prudent as tho' 2 +and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you that she has a very +fine complexion and very pretty features, that she already knows the two +first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never tears her frocks--. If +I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense and Prudence, I have +nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, and you will therefore +have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming to Lesley-Castle, and +by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine for yourself. Ah! my +dear Freind, how happy should I be to see you within these venerable +Walls! It is now four years since my removal from School has separated +me from you; that two such tender Hearts, so closely linked together by +the ties of simpathy and Freindship, should be so widely removed from +each other, is vastly moving. I live in Perthshire, You in Sussex. We +might meet in London, were my Father disposed to carry me there, and +were your Mother to be there at the same time. We might meet at Bath, +at Tunbridge, or anywhere else indeed, could we but be at the same place +together. We have only to hope that such a period may arrive. My Father +does not return to us till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in a +few Days; he is impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters +himself that change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You +will join with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the +recovery of the unhappy Lesley's peace of Mind, which must ever be +essential to that of your sincere freind M. Lesley. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. +Glenford Febry 12 + +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking you +my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should not +have deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the last +five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary arrangements for +my sisters wedding, as to allow me no time to devote either to you or +myself. And now what provokes me more than anything else is that the +Match is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great +the Dissapointment must be to me, when you consider that after having +laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner +ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton, +and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the +Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been Roasting, +Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. Indeed my +dear Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to what I +experienced on last Monday when my sister came running to me in the +store-room with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me that +Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and was +pronounced by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. "Good God! +(said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will become +of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it while it is good. +However, we'll call in the Surgeon to help us. I shall be able to manage +the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and You and the Doctor +must finish the rest." Here I was interrupted, by seeing my poor Sister +fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, where we keep +our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the Maids, and at +last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she was sensible, +she expressed a determination of going instantly to Henry, and was so +wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest Difficulty in the +World to prevent her putting it in execution; at last however more by +Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her room; we laid +her upon the Bed, and she continued for some Hours in the most dreadful +Convulsions. My Mother and I continued in the room with her, and when +any intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would allow us, we joined +in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in our provisions which +this Event must occasion, and in concerting some plan for getting rid of +them. We agreed that the best thing we could do was to begin eating them +immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the cold Ham and Fowls, and +instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with great Alacrity. We would +have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of a Chicken, but she would +not be persuaded. She was however much quieter than she had been; +the convulsions she had before suffered having given way to an almost +perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by every means in our +power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. "Dear Eloisa (said +I) there's no occasion for your crying so much about such a trifle. (for +I was willing to make light of it in order to comfort her) I beg you +would not mind it--You see it does not vex me in the least; though +perhaps I may suffer most from it after all; for I shall not only be +obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have dressed already, but must if +Henry should recover (which however is not very likely) dress as much +for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he will) I shall still +have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry any one else. So +you see that tho' perhaps for the present it may afflict you to think +of Henry's sufferings, Yet I dare say he'll die soon, and then his pain +will be over and you will be easy, whereas my Trouble will last much +longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain that the pantry cannot be +cleared in less than a fortnight." Thus I did all in my power to console +her, but without any effect, and at last as I saw that she did not seem +to listen to me, I said no more, but leaving her with my Mother I took +down the remains of The Ham and Chicken, and sent William to ask how +Henry did. He was not expected to live many Hours; he died the same day. +We took all possible care to break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the +tenderest manner; yet in spite of every precaution, her sufferings on +hearing it were too violent for her reason, and she continued for many +hours in a high Delirium. She is still extremely ill, and her Physicians +are greatly afraid of her going into a Decline. We are therefore +preparing for Bristol, where we mean to be in the course of the next +week. And now my dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and +in the first place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, +your Father is going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so +unpleasing a report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I +have written to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning +it, which as she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give +me. I know not who is the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely +right in the resolution he has taken of travelling, as it will perhaps +contribute to obliterate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, +which have lately so much afflicted him--I am happy to find that +tho' secluded from all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or +unhappy--that you may never know what it is to, be either is the wish of +your sincerely affectionate C.L. + +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, which +I enclose to you, and on which you will make your own reflections. + +The enclosed LETTER + +My dear CHARLOTTE You could not have applied for information concerning +the report of Sir George Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to +give it you than I am. Sir George is certainly married; I was myself +present at the Ceremony, which you will not be surprised at when I +subscribe myself your Affectionate Susan Lesley + + + + +LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL Lesley +Castle February the 16th + +I have made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my +Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. +I reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a +second family, our fortunes must be considerably diminushed--that if +his Wife should be of an extravagant turn, she would encourage him +to persevere in that gay and Dissipated way of Life to which little +encouragement would be necessary, and which has I fear already proved +but too detrimental to his health and fortune--that she would now become +Mistress of those Jewels which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir +George had always promised us--that if they did not come into +Perthshire I should not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my +Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at +the head of her Father's table--. These my dear Charlotte were the +melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan's letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately +occupied her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, +whether the probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own Consequence. +We both wish very much to know whether Lady Lesley is handsome and what +is your opinion of her; as you honour her with the appellation of your +freind, we flatter ourselves that she must be amiable. My Brother is +already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few Days, and to begin his +route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull manner, says that the air +of France has greatly recovered both his Health and Spirits; that he has +now entirely ceased to think of Louisa with any degree either of Pity or +Affection, that he even feels himself obliged to her for her Elopement, +as he thinks it very good fun to be single again. By this, you may +perceive that he has entirely regained that chearful Gaiety, and +sprightly Wit, for which he was once so remarkable. When he first became +acquainted with Louisa which was little more than three years ago, he +was one of the most lively, the most agreable young Men of the age--. +I beleive you never yet heard the particulars of his first acquaintance +with her. It commenced at our cousin Colonel Drummond's; at whose house +in Cumberland he spent the Christmas, in which he attained the age of +two and twenty. Louisa Burton was the Daughter of a distant Relation of +Mrs. Drummond, who dieing a few Months before in extreme poverty, left +his only Child then about eighteen to the protection of any of his +Relations who would protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only one who +found herself so disposed--Louisa was therefore removed from a miserable +Cottage in Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from +every pecuniary Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant +Enjoyment that Money could purchase--. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered +and Cunning; but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, +under the appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too +well knew, that to be married, would be the only chance she would +have of not being starved, and who flattered himself that with such +an extroidinary share of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of +Manners, and an engaging address, she might stand a good chance of +pleasing some young Man who might afford to marry a girl without a +Shilling. Louisa perfectly entered into her father's schemes and was +determined to forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of +Perseverance and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised +her natural disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to +impose upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with +her discovered her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless +Lesley first beheld her at Drummond-house. His heart which (to use +your favourite comparison) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a +Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few Days, +he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell, and before he had +known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at first highly +displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he found +that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the bounty +of his great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely sufficient +to support him and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the first +twelvemonth, no one could be happier than Lesley, and no one more +amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and +so cautiously behave that tho' Matilda and I often spent several weeks +together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspicion of her real +Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one would have +thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she had +so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did indeed +appear if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she seemed +to take no pains to prevent that affection from ever diminushing. Our +visits therefore to Dunbeath, were now less frequent and by far less +agreable than they used to be. Our absence was however never either +mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of young Danvers +with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at one of the +Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of Matilda and +your freind, tho' there certainly never were pleasanter girls than we +are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial happiness; I will not +repeat it--. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I have not yet mentioned +anything of the matter, I hope you will do me the justice to beleive +that I THINK and FEEL, a great deal for your Sisters affliction. I do +not doubt but that the healthy air of the Bristol downs will intirely +remove it, by erasing from her Mind the remembrance of Henry. I am my +dear Charlotte yrs ever M. L. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY Bristol +February 27th + +My Dear Peggy I have but just received your letter, which being directed +to Sussex while I was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, +and from some unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me--. +I return you many thanks for the account it contains of Lesley's +acquaintance, Love and Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less +entertained me for having often been repeated to me before. + +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to +imagine our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left Particular +orders with the servants to eat as hard as they possibly could, and to +call in a couple of Chairwomen to assist them. We brought a cold Pigeon +pye, a cold turkey, a cold tongue, and half a dozen Jellies with us, +which we were lucky enough with the help of our Landlady, her husband, +and their three children, to get rid of, in less than two days after +our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very indifferent both in Health and +Spirits, that I very much fear, the air of the Bristol downs, healthy as +it is, has not been able to drive poor Henry from her remembrance. + +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable--I +will now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. +She is short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a +good deal; has fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let +you know as soon as she sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is +remarkably good-tempered when she has her own way, and very lively when +she is not out of humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very +affected; she never reads anything but the letters she receives from me, +and never writes anything but her answers to them. She plays, sings and +Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in none, tho' she says +she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may flatter me so far as to +be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little affection should +be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our freindship arose +rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. We spent two or +three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom we both happened +to be connected--. During our visit, the Weather being remarkably bad, +and our party particularly stupid, she was so good as to conceive +a violent partiality for me, which very soon settled in a downright +Freindship and ended in an established correspondence. She is probably +by this time as tired of me, as I am of her; but as she is too Polite +and I am too civil to say so, our letters are still as frequent and +affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as firm and sincere as when it +first commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures of London, +and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some difficulty in +prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I dare say she feels +of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those favourite haunts of +Dissipation, for the melancholy tho' venerable gloom of the castle you +inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her health impaired by too much +amusement, she may acquire fortitude sufficient to undertake a Journey +to Scotland in the hope of its Proving at least beneficial to her +health, if not conducive to her happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, +concerning your father's extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers +Jewels and your Sister's consequence, I should suppose are but too well +founded. My freind herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably +spend nearly as much every year in Dress and Public places, if she can +get it--she will certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the +manner of living to which he has been so long accustomed, and there is +therefore some reason to fear that you will be very well off, if you get +any fortune at all. The Jewels I should imagine too will undoubtedly be +hers, and there is too much reason to think that she will preside at +her Husbands table in preference to his Daughter. But as so melancholy a +subject must necessarily extremely distress you, I will no longer dwell +on it--. + +Eloisa's indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family +since we came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill +health of their little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may +imagine that being the only family with whom we can converse, we are +of course on a footing of intimacy with them; we see them indeed almost +every day, and dined with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant +Day, and had a very good Dinner, tho' to be sure the Veal was terribly +underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not help wishing +all dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it--. A brother of Mrs +Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a good-looking +young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I tell +Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all +seem to relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and +Cleveland has a very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not +consider myself as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but +to tell you the truth I never wish to act a more principal part at a +Wedding than the superintending and directing the Dinner, and therefore +while I can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, I shall never +think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect that I should not have +so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for dressing that of +my freinds. Yours sincerely C. L. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL +Lesley-Castle March 18th + +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received +one from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us that +he should do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us on +the following evening. This as you may suppose considerably surprised +us, particularly as your account of her Ladyship had given us reason to +imagine there was little chance of her visiting Scotland at a time that +London must be so gay. As it was our business however to be delighted at +such a mark of condescension as a visit from Sir George and Lady Lesley, +we prepared to return them an answer expressive of the happiness we +enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily recollecting +that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it would be +impossible for my father to receive it before he left Edinburgh, we +contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we were as happy +as we ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the following day, +they came, accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. Her Ladyship +perfectly answers the description you sent me of her, except that I do +not think her so pretty as you seem to consider her. She has not a +bad face, but there is something so extremely unmajestic in her little +diminutive figure, as to render her in comparison with the elegant +height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant Dwarf. Her curiosity to +see us (which must have been great to bring her more than four hundred +miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins to mention +their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. We cannot +refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of our Father, +and thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is certainly one +of the most pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not yet determined +when we are to go, but when ever we do we shall certainly take our +little Louisa with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; Matilda unites in best +wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever M. L. + + + + +LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL Lesley-Castle +March 20th + +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already +heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square +for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no +idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actually +perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inaccessible, that I +expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and sincerely repented having +gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the expence of being +obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a manner. +But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside of +this tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having my +spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the Miss +Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, I +met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and Margaret +Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls, just of +a proper size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison as +themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could but behold these +Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of your wits. +They will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. +Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who +I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave +me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss SOMEBODY which I have +entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest Children. I have been plagued +ever since I came here with tiresome visits from a parcel of Scotch +wretches, with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me so many +invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, that I could not help +affronting them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and yet as +a family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do with +myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings but +Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems--and I hate everything +Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett with a great +deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there is not a +creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have just had +a conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly offended me, and +which as I have nothing more entertaining to send you I will gave you +the particulars of. You must know that I have for these 4 or 5 Days past +strongly suspected William of entertaining a partiality to my eldest +Daughter. I own indeed that had I been inclined to fall in love with any +woman, I should not have made choice of Matilda Lesley for the object +of my passion; for there is nothing I hate so much as a tall Woman: but +however there is no accounting for some men's taste and as William is +himself nearly six feet high, it is not wonderful that he should be +partial to that height. Now as I have a very great affection for my +Brother and should be extremely sorry to see him unhappy, which I +suppose he means to be if he cannot marry Matilda, as moreover I know +that his circumstances will not allow him to marry any one without a +fortune, and that Matilda's is entirely dependant on her Father, who +will neither have his own inclination nor my permission to give her +anything at present, I thought it would be doing a good-natured action +by my Brother to let him know as much, in order that he might choose +for himself, whether to conquer his passion, or Love and Despair. +Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone with him in one of the +horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause to him in the +following Manner. + +"Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I +do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me +partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right--They +are indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to think"-- + +"My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do not +really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is so +very plain!--but I beg your pardon--I had entirely forgotten to whom I +was speaking--" + +"Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright." + +"You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband +so deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see +any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion +perfectly unlike him and perfectly Handsome." + +"If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and +very handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is very +plain." + +"By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man." + +"But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain." + +"Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex." (said he). + +"Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable." + +"Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about HIS Beauty, but your +opinion of his DAUGHTERS is surely very singular, for if I understood +you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected to +do!" + +"Why, do YOU find them plainer then?" (said I). + +"I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak +of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss +Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?" + +"Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!" + +"Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why +what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly find +fault with?" + +"Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest--with Matilda. Shall I, William?" (I looked as cunning as I could +when I said it, in order to shame him). + +"They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both." + +"Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!" + +"They are TALLER than you are indeed." (said he with a saucy smile.) + +"Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that." + +"Well, but (he continued) tho' they may be above the common size, their +figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull." + +"I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never +could strain my neck enough to look at them." + +"Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in not +attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their Lustre." + +"Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure +you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho' by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given +me just cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he said) +"You must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have offended +you!" + +"Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least +surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these +girls."-- + +"Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet +concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with their +complexion?" + +"They are so horridly pale." + +"They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened." + +"Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of +the world, they will never be able raise more than their common +stock--except indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down +these horrid old galleries and Antichambers." + +"Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they HAVE but little colour, at least, it is +all their own." + +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the +impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. +But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear +it so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I have protested +against wearing Rouge, and how much I always told you I disliked it. And +I assure you that my opinions are still the same.--. Well, not bearing +to be so suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately, and have +been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a long +letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such from +me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one has +time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.--. I was so much vexed by +William's glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to stay and +give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and +I am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, +that I am certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I +shall there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his +favourite. Adeiu my dear girl--Yrs affectionately Susan L. + + + + +LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY Bristol the +27th of March + +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this week +which have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are both +downright jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two pretty +Women tho' actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same House +without falling out about their faces. Do be convinced that you are both +perfectly handsome and say no more of the Matter. I suppose this letter +must be directed to Portman Square where probably (great as is your +affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be sorry to find yourself. In +spite of all that people may say about Green fields and the Country +I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must be very +agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my Mother's income +allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during Winter. I always +longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether the cold Beef +there is cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly suspicion that +few people understand the art of cutting a slice of cold Beef so well +as I do: nay it would be hard if I did not know something of the Matter, +for it was a part of my Education that I took by far the most pains +with. Mama always found me HER best scholar, tho' when Papa was +alive Eloisa was HIS. Never to be sure were there two more different +Dispositions in the World. We both loved Reading. SHE preferred +Histories, and I Receipts. She loved drawing, Pictures, and I drawing +Pullets. No one could sing a better song than she, and no one make a +better Pye than I.--And so it has always continued since we have been +no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes on the +superior excellence of our Employments THEN so frequent are now no more. +We have for many years entered into an agreement always to admire +each other's works; I never fail listening to HER Music, and she is as +constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till Henry Hervey +made his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his Aunt in our +neighbourhood where she established herself you know about a twelvemonth +ago, his visits to her had been at stated times, and of equal and +settled Duration; but on her removal to the Hall which is within a walk +from our House, they became both more frequent and longer. This as you +may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs Diana who is a professed enemy +to everything which is not directed by Decorum and Formality, or which +bears the least resemblance to Ease and Good-breeding. Nay so great was +her aversion to her Nephews behaviour that I have often heard her give +such hints of it before his face that had not Henry at such times been +engaged in conversation with Eloisa, they must have caught his Attention +and have very much distressed him. The alteration in my Sisters +behaviour which I have before hinted at, now took place. The Agreement +we had entered into of admiring each others productions she no +longer seemed to regard, and tho' I constantly applauded even every +Country-dance, she played, yet not even a pidgeon-pye of my making could +obtain from her a single word of approbation. This was certainly enough +to put any one in a Passion; however, I was as cool as a cream-cheese +and having formed my plan and concerted a scheme of Revenge, I was +determined to let her have her own way and not even to make her a single +reproach. My scheme was to treat her as she treated me, and tho' she +might even draw my own Picture or play Malbrook (which is the only tune +I ever really liked) not to say so much as "Thank you Eloisa;" tho' +I had for many years constantly hollowed whenever she played, BRAVO, +BRAVISSIMO, ENCORE, DA CAPO, ALLEGRETTO, CON EXPRESSIONE, and POCO +PRESTO with many other such outlandish words, all of them as Eloisa told +me expressive of my Admiration; and so indeed I suppose they are, as I +see some of them in every Page of every Music book, being the sentiments +I imagine of the composer. + +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for +alas! my silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease +her; on the contrary she actually said to me one day "Well Charlotte, +I am very glad to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous +custom of applauding my Execution on the Harpsichord till you made +my head ake, and yourself hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for +keeping your admiration to yourself." I never shall forget the very +witty answer I made to this speech. "Eloisa (said I) I beg you would +be quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in future, for +be assured that I shall always keep my admiration to myself and my own +pursuits and never extend it to yours." This was the only very severe +thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have often felt myself +extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my feelings +public. + +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection +for each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for +Miss Burton could not be so strong tho' it might be more violent. You +may imagine therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have +him play her such a trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with +undiminished constancy, notwithstanding he has been dead more than six +weeks; but some People mind such things more than others. The ill state +of Health into which his loss has thrown her makes her so weak, and so +unable to support the least exertion, that she has been in tears all +this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. Marlowe who with her +Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this morning. I am sorry +to have them go because they are the only family with whom we have here +any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure Eloisa +and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and have +therefore contracted a kind of affection for each other, which does not +make Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The Marlowes +are going to Town; Cliveland accompanies them; as neither Eloisa nor I +could catch him I hope you or Matilda may have better Luck. I know not +when we shall leave Bristol, Eloisa's spirits are so low that she is +very averse to moving, and yet is certainly by no means mended by her +residence here. A week or two will I hope determine our Measures--in the +mean time believe me and etc--and etc--Charlotte Lutterell. + + + + +LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE Bristol April 4th + +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of +your affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you made +me of our Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great releif to +me to write to you and as long as my Health and Spirits will allow +me, you will find me a very constant correspondent; I will not say +an entertaining one, for you know my situation suffciently not to be +ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart too +well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You must not expect +news for we see no one with whom we are in the least acquainted, or in +whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect scandal +for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from hearing or +inventing it.--You must expect from me nothing but the melancholy +effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the Happiness +it once enjoyed and which ill supports its present wretchedness. The +Possibility of being able to write, to speak, to you of my lost Henry +will be a luxury to me, and your goodness will not I know refuse to read +what it will so much releive my Heart to write. I once thought that to +have what is in general called a Freind (I mean one of my own sex +to whom I might speak with less reserve than to any other person) +independant of my sister would never be an object of my wishes, but how +much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by two confidential +correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of one to me, and I +hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I say that to +have some kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to my sorrows +without endeavouring to console me was what I had for some time wished +for, when our acquaintance with you, the intimacy which followed it and +the particular affectionate attention you paid me almost from the first, +caused me to entertain the flattering Idea of those attentions being +improved on a closer acquaintance into a Freindship which, if you were +what my wishes formed you would be the greatest Happiness I could +be capable of enjoying. To find that such Hopes are realised is a +satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is now almost the only one I +can ever experience.--I feel myself so languid that I am sure were you +with me you would oblige me to leave off writing, and I cannot give you +a greater proof of my affection for you than by acting, as I know you +would wish me to do, whether Absent or Present. I am my dear Emmas +sincere freind E. L. + + + + +LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL Grosvenor Street, April +10th + +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot +give a greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the +Desire I feel that our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than +by setting you so good an example as I now do in answering it before the +end of the week--. But do not imagine that I claim any merit in being +so punctual; on the contrary I assure you, that it is a far greater +Gratification to me to write to you, than to spend the Evening either at +a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my appearing at some +of the Public places every evening that I do not like to refuse him, but +at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, that independant of +the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion of my Time to my +Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a letter to write of +spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you know me well enough +to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient Inducement (if one is +necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure a Correspondence with you. +As to the subject of your letters to me, whether grave or merry, if they +concern you they must be equally interesting to me; not but that I think +the melancholy Indulgence of your own sorrows by repeating them and +dwelling on them to me, will only encourage and increase them, and +that it will be more prudent in you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet +knowing as I do what a soothing and melancholy Pleasure it must afford +you, I cannot prevail on myself to deny you so great an Indulgence, and +will only insist on your not expecting me to encourage you in it, by my +own letters; on the contrary I intend to fill them with such lively Wit +and enlivening Humour as shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but +sorrowfull countenance of my Eloisa. + +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three +freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have been +here. I know you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the Beauty of +three Ladies of whom you have heard so much. Now, as you are too ill and +too unhappy to be vain, I think I may venture to inform you that I +like none of their faces so well as I do your own. Yet they are all +handsome--Lady Lesley indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I beleive +would in general be said to have a finer face than her Ladyship, and yet +what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a little Affectation and +a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which she is superior to the +young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself as many admirers as the +more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. I am sure you will agree +with me in saying that they can none of them be of a proper size for +real Beauty, when you know that two of them are taller and the other +shorter than ourselves. In spite of this Defect (or rather by reason +of it) there is something very noble and majestic in the figures of the +Miss Lesleys, and something agreably lively in the appearance of their +pretty little Mother-in-law. But tho' one may be majestic and the other +lively, yet the faces of neither possess that Bewitching sweetness of +my Eloisas, which her present languor is so far from diminushing. What +would my Husband and Brother say of us, if they knew all the fine things +I have been saying to you in this letter. It is very hard that a pretty +woman is never to be told she is so by any one of her own sex without +that person's being suspected to be either her determined Enemy, or +her professed Toad-eater. How much more amiable are women in that +particular! One man may say forty civil things to another without our +supposing that he is ever paid for it, and provided he does his Duty by +our sex, we care not how Polite he is to his own. + +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, +my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and +Spirits that can be offered by her affectionate Freind E. Marlowe. + +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the +witty way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when I +assure you that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. + + + + +LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL +Portman Square April 13th + +MY DEAR CHARLOTTE We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, +and arrived safely in London after a Journey of seven Days; I had the +pleasure of finding your Letter here waiting my Arrival, for which you +have my grateful Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I every day more regret the +serene and tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have left, in exchange +for the uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted City. Not that +I will pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal Amusements +are in the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy them +extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that every +appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those unhappy +Beings whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho' it is out of my +power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my sensibility for +the sufferings of so many amiable young Men, my Dislike of the extreme +admiration I meet with, and my aversion to being so celebrated both in +Public, in Private, in Papers, and in Printshops, that are the reasons +why I cannot more fully enjoy, the Amusements so various and pleasing +of London. How often have I wished that I possessed as little Personal +Beauty as you do; that my figure were as inelegant; my face as unlovely; +and my appearance as unpleasing as yours! But ah! what little chance +is there of so desirable an Event; I have had the small-pox, and must +therefore submit to my unhappy fate. + +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has +long disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to +require the most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se'night +Matilda and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs +Kickabout's; we were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable +young Man in the main, tho' perhaps a little singular in his Taste--He +is in love with Matilda--. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the +Lady of the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when my +Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most lovely +of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with another Gentleman +and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him, I was certain that on him +depended the future Happiness of my Life. Imagine my surprise when he +was introduced to me by the name of Cleveland--I instantly recognised +him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and the acquaintance of my Charlotte +at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the gentleman and Lady who accompanied +him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) The elegant address of Mr +Cleveland, his polished Manners and Delightful Bow, at once confirmed my +attachment. He did not speak; but I can imagine everything he would have +said, had he opened his Mouth. I can picture to myself the cultivated +Understanding, the Noble sentiments, and elegant Language which would +have shone so conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The +approach of Sir James Gower (one of my too numerous admirers) prevented +the Discovery of any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we +had never commenced, and by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! +how inferior are the accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so +greatly envied Rival! Sir James is one of the most frequent of our +Visitors, and is almost always of our Parties. We have since often met +Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no Cleveland--he is always engaged some where +else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues me to Death every time I see her by her +tiresome Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in +the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going to +Lady Flambeaus, who is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will +be Lady Lesley, Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see +little of Sir George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my +poor Fortune where art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who +always makes her appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what +Delightful Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau's! +Yet I wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely she +must be sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her little +diminutive figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible that +she can not know how greatly superior an elegant simplicity is to the +most studied apparel? Would she but Present them to Matilda and me, how +greatly should we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds be on +our fine majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an Idea +should never have occurred to HER. I am sure if I have reflected in this +manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother's Jewels +too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject--let me entertain +you with something more pleasing--Matilda had a letter this morning from +Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he is at Naples +has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope's Bulls for +annulling his 1st Marriage and has since actually married a Neapolitan +Lady of great Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the same +sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worthless Louisa who is +likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon to be married +to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished merit. He says, +that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite forgiven all +past errors and intend in future to be very good Neighbours. He invites +Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and to bring him his little +Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and himself are equally +desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his invitation, it is at +Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to go without loss of +time; Fitzgerald offers to escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts +of the Propriety of such a scheme--she owns it would be very agreable. +I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father desires us not to be in a +hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months both he and Lady Lesley will +do themselves the pleasure of attending us. Lady Lesley says no, that +nothing will ever tempt her to forego the Amusements of Brighthelmstone +for a Journey to Italy merely to see our Brother. "No (says the +disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been fool enough to travel I +dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and I found +it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am so foolish again."So +says her Ladyship, but Sir George still Perseveres in saying that +perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany us. Adeiu my Dear +Charlotte Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. + + +***** + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + +FROM THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH TO THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST + +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. + +***** + +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by THE AUTHOR. + + +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + +HENRY the 4th + +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own +satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and +predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the +rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered. +It is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had certainly four +sons, but it is not in my power to inform the Reader who was his wife. +Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his son +the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the King +made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to Shakespear's +Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being thus settled +between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son Henry who had +previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. + + +HENRY the 5th + +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and +amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing +Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I +forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where +he went and fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards married +the King's daughter Catherine, a very agreable woman by Shakespear's +account. In spite of all this however he died, and was succeeded by his +son Henry. + + +HENRY the 6th + +I cannot say much for this Monarch's sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him +and the Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had +better read some other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in this, +meaning by it only to vent my spleen AGAINST, and shew my Hatred TO all +those people whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not +to give information. This King married Margaret of Anjou, a Woman whose +distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost to make me who hate +her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of Arc lived and made such +a ROW among the English. They should not have burnt her--but they did. +There were several Battles between the Yorkists and Lancastrians, in +which the former (as they ought) usually conquered. At length they were +entirely overcome; The King was murdered--The Queen was sent home--and +Edward the 4th ascended the Throne. + + +EDWARD the 4th + +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which +the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour +in marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient +proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was +afterwards confined in a Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and Avarice +Henry the 7th. One of Edward's Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has had +a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth +reading. Having performed all these noble actions, his Majesty died, and +was succeeded by his son. + + +EDWARD the 5th + +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to +draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle's Contrivance, whose name +was Richard the 3rd. + + +RICHARD the 3rd + +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated +by Historians, but as he was a YORK, I am rather inclined to suppose him +a very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted that he +killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been declared that +he did not kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to beleive true; +and if this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he did not kill +his Wife, for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might +not Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether innocent or guilty, +he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E. of Richmond as great +a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss about getting the Crown and +having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth, he succeeded to it. + + +HENRY the 7th + +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of +York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right +inferior to hers, tho' he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage he +had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was married +to the King of Scotland and had the happiness of being grandmother +to one of the first Characters in the World. But of HER, I shall have +occasion to speak more at large in future. The youngest, Mary, married +first the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk, by whom she had +one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, who tho' inferior +to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an amiable young woman +and famous for reading Greek while other people were hunting. It was in +the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnel before +mentioned made their appearance, the former of whom was set in the +stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was beheaded with the Earl +of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His Majesty +died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit was his not +being quite so bad as his daughter Elizabeth. + + +HENRY the 8th + +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were +not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King's reign as I am +myself. It will therefore be saving THEM the task of reading again what +they have read before, and MYSELF the trouble of writing what I do not +perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the principal +Events which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked Cardinal +Wolsey's telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that "he was come +to lay his bones among them," the reformation in Religion and the King's +riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is however +but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was entirely +innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which her +Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not +to mention her solemn Protestations of Innocence, the weakness of the +Charges against her, and the King's Character; all of which add some +confirmation, tho' perhaps but slight ones when in comparison with those +before alledged in her favour. Tho' I do not profess giving many dates, +yet as I think it proper to give some and shall of course make choice +of those which it is most necessary for the Reader to know, I think it +right to inform him that her letter to the King was dated on the 6th of +May. The Crimes and Cruelties of this Prince, were too numerous to be +mentioned, (as this history I trust has fully shown;) and nothing can +be said in his vindication, but that his abolishing Religious Houses and +leaving them to the ruinous depredations of time has been of infinite +use to the landscape of England in general, which probably was a +principal motive for his doing it, since otherwise why should a Man who +was of no Religion himself be at so much trouble to abolish one which +had for ages been established in the Kingdom. His Majesty's 5th Wife +was the Duke of Norfolk's Neice who, tho' universally acquitted of the +crimes for which she was beheaded, has been by many people supposed to +have led an abandoned life before her Marriage--of this however I have +many doubts, since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who +was so warm in the Queen of Scotland's cause, and who at last fell a +victim to it. The Kings last wife contrived to survive him, but with +difficulty effected it. He was succeeded by his only son Edward. + + +EDWARD the 6th + +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father's +death, he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the +late King happening to be of the same opinion, his mother's Brother the +Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. +This Man was on the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat +of a favourite with me, tho' I would by no means pretend to affirm that +he was equal to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or +Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud, +had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but +as it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never +happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with +the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of Northumberland had the +care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so +well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his daughter in law +the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading Greek. +Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was +always rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, +she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what +was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for +she declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen, and while +conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence in Latin and another in +Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband accidentally passing that +way. + + +MARY + +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of England, +in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her Cousins +Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the Kingdom for the +misfortunes they experienced during her Reign, since they fully deserved +them, for having allowed her to succeed her Brother--which was a double +peice of folly, since they might have foreseen that as she died without +children, she would be succeeded by that disgrace to humanity, that +pest of society, Elizabeth. Many were the people who fell martyrs to the +protestant Religion during her reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen. +She married Philip King of Spain who in her sister's reign was famous +for building Armadas. She died without issue, and then the dreadful +moment came in which the destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful +Betrayer of trust reposed in her, and the Murderess of her Cousin +succeeded to the Throne.---- + + +ELIZABETH + +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad +Ministers---Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have +committed such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men +connived at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by +many people been asserted and beleived that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis +Walsingham, and the rest of those who filled the cheif offices of State +were deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded +such writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised, +neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their +Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining +for the space of nineteen years, a WOMAN who if the claims of +Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who +condescended to place confidence in her, had every reason to expect +assistance and protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring +this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can +any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, this everlasting +blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any praise to +Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this bewitching +Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose +only ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was +abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and +vilified by all, what must not her most noble mind have suffered when +informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore +it with a most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her +Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she +was doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious +Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that +some hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so +much credit? But this is a striking proof of THEIR narrow souls and +prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great Hall +at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of February +1586--to the everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of +England in general. It may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude +my account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had been accused +of several crimes during the time of her reigning in Scotland, of which +I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she was entirely innocent; +having never been guilty of anything more than Imprudencies into which +she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, her Youth, and her +Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely done away every +Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in the Reader's mind, +from what other Historians have written of her, I shall proceed to +mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth's reign. It was about +this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator who sailed +round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his Country and his +profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated as a sailor, +I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in this or the next +Century by one who tho' now but young, already promises to answer all +the ardent and sanguine expectations of his Relations and Freinds, +amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom this work is +dedicated, and my no less amiable self. + +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of +Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an Earl, as Drake was +in that of a Sailor, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This unfortunate +young Man was not unlike in character to that equally unfortunate +one FREDERIC DELAMERE. The simile may be carried still farther, and +Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to the Emmeline of +Delamere. It would be endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble +and gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the +25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, after having +clapped his hand on his sword, and after performing many other services +to his Country. Elizabeth did not long survive his loss, and died so +miserable that were it not an injury to the memory of Mary I should pity +her. + + +JAMES the 1st + +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most principal, +was his allowing his Mother's death, yet considered on the whole I +cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several +Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before +his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell his +unfortunate Brother. + +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with +infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member +of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am +necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England +did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour +indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of Parliament might justly +be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho' +certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general +politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were +entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. + +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is +by many people held in great veneration and respect--But as he was an +enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and +must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars +of his life, to Mr Sheridan's play of the Critic, where they will +find many interesting anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir +Christopher Hatton.--His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which +inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a keener +penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard an +excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now on reminds +me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to FIND IT +OUT, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them. + +SHARADE My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you +tread on my whole. + +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards +created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share +in the above mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of +Buckingham. On his Majesty's death he was succeeded by his son Charles. + + +CHARLES the 1st + +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to +those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve +since he was her descendant. Never certainly were there before so many +detestable Characters at one time in England as in this Period of its +History; never were amiable men so scarce. The number of them throughout +the whole Kingdom amounting only to FIVE, besides the inhabitants +of Oxford who were always loyal to their King and faithful to his +interests. The names of this noble five who never forgot the duty of +the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, were as +follows--The King himself, ever stedfast in his own support--Archbishop +Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke of Ormond, who were +scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. While the VILLIANS +of the time would make too long a list to be written or read; I shall +therefore content myself with mentioning the leaders of the Gang. +Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be considered as the original +Causers of all the disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which +England for many years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that +of Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch, +to consider them as equally guilty with the generality of the English, +since they dared to think differently from their Sovereign, to forget +the Adoration which as STUARTS it was their Duty to pay them, to rebel +against, dethrone and imprison the unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to +deceive, and to sell the no less unfortunate Charles. The Events of this +Monarch's reign are too numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital +of any Events (except what I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my +principal reason for undertaking the History of England being to Prove +the innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with +having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho' I am rather +fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme.--As +therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the +distresses into which this King was involved through the misconduct and +Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him +from the Reproach of Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he +has often been charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for +with one argument I am certain of satisfying every sensible and well +disposed person whose opinions have been properly guided by a good +Education--and this Argument is that he was a STUART. + +Finis Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. + + +***** + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +To Miss COOPER + +COUSIN Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and +every Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and +Care I Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection +of Curious Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and +Classed by your Comical Cousin + +The Author. + +***** + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner from +that in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now arrived +at that age when it is necessary for them in some measure to become +conversant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister scarcely a +twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that their education has been such +as will not disgrace their appearance in the World, and that THEY will +not disgrace their Education I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they +are sweet Girls--. Sensible yet unaffected--Accomplished yet Easy--. +Lively yet Gentle--. As their progress in every thing they have learnt +has been always the same, I am willing to forget the difference of age, +and to introduce them together into Public. This very Evening is fixed +on as their first ENTREE into Life, as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope +and her Daughter. I am glad that we are to meet no one, for my Girls +sake, as it would be awkward for them to enter too wide a Circle on the +very first day. But we shall proceed by degrees.--Tomorrow Mr Stanly's +family will drink tea with us, and perhaps the Miss Phillips's will meet +them. On Tuesday we shall pay Morning Visits--On Wednesday we are to +dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we have Company at home. On Friday we +are to be at a Private Concert at Sir John Wynna's--and on Saturday +we expect Miss Dawson to call in the Morning--which will complete my +Daughters Introduction into Life. How they will bear so much dissipation +I cannot imagine; of their spirits I have no fear, I only dread their +health. + +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls are OUT. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove +to the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they +were seated thus addressed them. "My dear Girls the moment is now +arrived when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours +towards you during your Education. You are this Evening to enter a World +in which you will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn +you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the Follies and +Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if you do--I +shall be very sorry for it." They both assured me that they would ever +remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow it with attention; That +they were prepared to find a World full of things to amaze and to shock +them: but that they trusted their behaviour would never give me reason +to repent the Watchful Care with which I had presided over their infancy +and formed their Minds--" "With such expectations and such intentions +(cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you--and can chearfully +conduct you to Mrs Cope's without a fear of your being seduced by her +Example, or contaminated by her Follies. Come, then my Children (added +I) the Carriage is driving to the door, and I will not a moment delay +the happiness you are so impatient to enjoy." When we arrived at +Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely breathe, while Margaret was all +Life and Rapture. "The long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she) +and we shall soon be in the World."--In a few Moments we were in Mrs +Cope's parlour, where with her daughter she sate ready to receive us. +I observed with delight the impression my Children made on them--. They +were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho' somewhat abashed +from the peculiarity of their situation, yet there was an ease in their +Manners and address which could not fail of pleasing--. Imagine my +dear Madam how delighted I must have been in beholding as I did, how +attentively they observed every object they saw, how disgusted with some +Things, how enchanted with others, how astonished at all! On the whole +however they returned in raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and +Manners. Yrs Ever--A. F. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why +should I feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I +have experienced before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for +Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our +feelings become more acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my +dear Belle that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being more +sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen, or +either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most lasting +affection that ever warmed a Woman's heart. Tell me then dear Belle why +I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I weep when I +behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case--. My Freinds are all +alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they lament my want +of spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of releiving my +melancholy, by directing my thoughts to other objects, they have invited +several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with us. Lady Bridget +Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected on Friday; and +Colonel Seaton's family will be with us next week. This is all most +kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the presence of a +dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and distress me--. I will +not finish my Letter till some of our Visitors are arrived. + +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet +sister Miss Jane--. Although I have been acquainted with this charming +Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she +is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is +more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, +the moment she entered the house, and she appeared equally pleased with +me, attaching herself to me during the remainder of the day. There is +something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, that she seems more than +Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I could not +help telling her how much she engaged my admiration--. "Oh! Miss Jane +(said I)--and stopped from an inability at the moment of expressing +myself as I could wish--Oh! Miss Jane--(I repeated)--I could not think +of words to suit my feelings--She seemed waiting for my speech--. I +was confused--distressed--my thoughts were bewildered--and I could only +add--"How do you do?" She saw and felt for my Embarrassment and with +admirable presence of mind releived me from it by saying--"My dear +Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself--I will turn the +Conversation without appearing to notice it. "Oh! how I loved her for +her kindness!" Do you ride as much as you used to do?" said she--. "I +am advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, +I have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied +I quite recovered from my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal." +"You are in the right my Love," said she. Then repeating the following +line which was an extempore and equally adapted to recommend both Riding +and Candour-- + +"Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can," she added," I rode once, +but it is many years ago--She spoke this in so low and tremulous a +Voice, that I was silent--. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could +make no reply. "I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes on my +face, since I was married." I was never so surprised--"Married, Ma'am!" +I repeated. "You may well wear that look of astonishment, said she, +since what I have said must appear improbable to you--Yet nothing is +more true than that I once was married." + +"Then why are you called Miss Jane?" + +"I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret +from him and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might offer +of revealing it--. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon given in +the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood--Pardon these tears, continued Miss +Jane wiping her Eyes, I owe them to my Husband's memory. He fell my +Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after a most happy +Union of seven years--. My Children, two sweet Boys and a Girl, who +had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with him and with +every one as the Children of a Brother (tho' I had ever been an only +Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. But no sooner had +I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures fell sick and died--. +Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an Aunt I +attended my Children to their early Grave--. My Father did not survive +them many weeks--He died, poor Good old man, happily ignorant to his +last hour of my Marriage.' + +"But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband's death?" + +"No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself +are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been +either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the +name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry's death I could never hear +without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that of +Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point of +bearing only my Christian one since my Father's death." She paused--"Oh! +my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so +entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted me! But have +you quite done?" + +"I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry's elder Brother dieing +about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, and as we +had always loved each other in idea from the high Character in which we +had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we determined to live +together. We wrote to one another on the same subject by the same post, +so exactly did our feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly +embraced the proposals we gave and received of becoming one family, and +have from that time lived together in the greatest affection." + +"And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done." + +"Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?" + +"I never did--and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when +one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one's sensations as to hear +of equal misery." + +"Ah! but my Sophia why are YOU unhappy?" + +"Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby's Marriage?" + +"But my love why lament HIS perfidy, when you bore so well that of many +young Men before?" + +"Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year." + +"Poor Girl!" said Miss Jane. + + + + +LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her +freind + +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my +Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who +did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to sit +forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent especially +as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation on me "So +Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the +Carriage) you seem very smart to night--MY poor Girls will appear quite +to disadvantage by YOU--I only hope your Mother may not have distressed +herself to set YOU off. Have you got a new Gown on?" + +"Yes Ma'am." replied I with as much indifference as I could assume. + +"Aye, and a fine one too I think--(feeling it, as by her permission I +seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart--But I must +own, for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a +needless piece of expence--Why could not you have worn your old striped +one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor, +for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than +blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time I +must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been quite +fine enough for its Wearer--for to tell you the truth (I always speak my +mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the room will +not know whether you have a Gown on or not--But I suppose you intend to +make your fortune to night--. Well, the sooner the better; and I wish +you success." + +"Indeed Ma'am I have no such intention--" + +"Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?" Miss +Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. + +"Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?" said her Ladyship. + +"Dear Ma'am, said Ellen it is but nine o'clock." + +"True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant." + +"She was just sitting down to supper Ma'am." + +"And what had she got for supper?" "I did not observe." "Bread and +Cheese I suppose." "I should never wish for a better supper." said +Ellen. "You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is +always provided for you." Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she +constantly does at her Mother's wit. + +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while +riding in her Ladyship's Coach--I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother +is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my +way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady +Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her +House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of +being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.--When we arrived at +Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o'clock, which was an hour and a half +later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too +fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing +however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just +as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got +his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean +time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room went +exactly before me--She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though +there were several people close to us, + +"Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! +I am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; +perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over." So saying, she +passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and +leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one--Mr +Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered +the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared +from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all +the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations +in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in +the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see that +Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who had been +his Choice--She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly when we +were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with more than her +usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said loud enough +to be heard by half the people in the room, "Pray Miss Maria in what +way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I cannot agree +whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder." I saw that she wanted to +mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent her seeing +that her scheme succeeded. "Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant." +"Aye, I knew he was in some such low way--He broke did not he?" "I +beleive not Ma'am." "Did not he abscond?" "I never heard that he did." +"At least he died insolvent?" "I was never told so before." "Why, was +not your FATHER as poor as a Rat" "I fancy not." "Was not he in the +Kings Bench once?" "I never saw him there." She gave me SUCH a look, and +turned away in a great passion; while I was half delighted with myself +for my impertinence, and half afraid of being thought too saucy. As Lady +Greville was extremely angry with me, she took no further notice of +me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in favour I should have been +equally neglected, as she was got into a Party of great folks and she +never speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss Greville was with +her Mother's party at supper, but Ellen preferred staying with the +Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady G--slept all +the way home, I had a very comfortable ride. + +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville's Coach stopped at +the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it should. +She sent in a message by the servant to say that "she should not get out +but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she wanted to speak +to her, and that she must make haste and come immediately--" "What an +impertinent Message Mama!" said I--"Go Maria--" replied she--Accordingly +I went and was obliged to stand there at her Ladyships pleasure though +the Wind was extremely high and very cold. + +"Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night--But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that +you may dine with us the day after tomorrow--Not tomorrow, remember, do +not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley's family--There will be no occasion for your being very fine +for I shant send the Carriage--If it rains you may take an umbrella--" +I could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself +dry--"And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait--I hate my +Victuals over-done--But you need not come before the time--How does +your Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?" "Yes Ma'am we were in the +middle of dinner when your Ladyship came." "I am afraid you find it very +cold Maria." said Ellen. "Yes, it is an horrible East wind--said her +Mother--I assure you I can hardly bear the window down--But you are used +to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made your +Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride +in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind +shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do +in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings either +of cold or Delicacy--Well, remember that we shall expect you on Thursday +at 5 o'clock--You must tell your Maid to come for you at night--There +will be no Moon--and you will have an horrid walk home--My compts to +Your Mother--I am afraid your dinner will be cold--Drive on--" And away +she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always does. +Maria Williams. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very +agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her +appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and +voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that +they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her Life, +who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen her, +for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, and +that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable opportunity +offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished to know, for +every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr Drayton, Miss +Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a whispering +Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of necessity obliged +to entertain each other. This was what I wished and being determined not +to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversation in +the following Manner. + +"Have you been long in Essex Ma'am?" + +"I arrived on Tuesday." + +"You came from Derbyshire?" + +"No, Ma'am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk." You will +think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not +wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. "Are you pleased with +the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you have +left?" + +"Much superior Ma'am in point of Beauty." She sighed. I longed to know +for why. + +"But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a poor +consolation for the loss of one's dearest Freinds." She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much +raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. + +"You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?" "Indeed I do." +"You were born there I suppose?" "Yes Ma'am I was and passed many happy +years there--" + +"That is a great comfort--said I--I hope Ma'am that you never spent any +unhappy one's there." + +"Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right +to expect uninterrupted Happiness.--Some Misfortunes I have certainly +met with." + +"WHAT Misfortunes dear Ma'am? replied I, burning with impatience to know +every thing. "NONE Ma'am I hope that have been the effect of any wilfull +fault in me." "I dare say not Ma'am, and have no doubt but that any +sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the cruelties +of Relations or the Errors of Freinds." She sighed--"You seem unhappy +my dear Miss Grenville--Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?" +"YOUR power Ma'am replied she extremely surprised; it is in NO ONES +power to make me happy." She pronounced these words in so mournfull and +solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. I +was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few moments and +looking at her with all the affection I could, "My dear Miss Grenville +said I, you appear extremely young--and may probably stand in need of +some one's advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps +superior Judgement might authorise her to give it. I am that person, and +I now challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and +Freindship, in return to which I shall only ask for yours--" + +"You are extremely obliging Ma'am--said she--and I am highly flattered +by your attention to me--But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no +uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I +am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall +know where to apply." + +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still however +I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of sentiment +and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to +renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. "Do you intend staying +long in this part of England Miss Grenville?" + +"Yes Ma'am, some time I beleive." + +"But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?" + +"They are neither of them alive Ma'am." This was an answer I did not +expect--I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life---. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love +every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I +had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my +dear Musgrove. + +Sackville St: Janry 7th It is a month to day since I first beheld my +lovely Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in +a manner becoming the day--by writing to her. Never shall I forget the +moment when her Beauties first broke on my sight--No time as you well +know can erase it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady +Scudamore to live within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely +Creature first entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight +of you was like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started--I gazed +at her with admiration--She appeared every moment more Charming, and the +unfortunate Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time +to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an +happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. "What said he to himself +is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he +pine for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored +by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful +you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. +You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the +prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life--and her Beauty is encreased in her +Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. +And ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do +hope for the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since +my fair one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed +her in affluence above what my fortune can procure--. Though it is an +improvable Estate--. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I +am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house +which tho' an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is +ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell--Of that +Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and +devoted humble servt. T. Musgrove. + +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such +a master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of +Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? +No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with +by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the +following in answer to his Letter tomorrow. + +My dearest Musgrove--. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made +me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than +any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest +Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a +Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you are +in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How shall +we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we cannot +live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how impatiently I +wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt--If they will not Die soon, I +beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every day of my +Life. + +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her +house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are there. +I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never +read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most truly +and faithfully yours for ever and ever Henrietta Halton. + +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write +though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at +a Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady +Scudamores--And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I +liked her Cousin Musgrove? + +"Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man." + +"I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love with +you." + +"Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?" + +"Nay, t'is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love with +you from the first moment he beheld you." + +"I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I +would give a farthing for--There is some sense in being in love at first +sight." + +"Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and +I beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a +contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a +great deal of the World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read." + +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my conquest. +However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs--so I said to +her-- + +"This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who have +no fortune at all." + +"My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you can +be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to encourage +your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a fortune +with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an estate of +several hundreds an year which is capable of great Improvement, and an +excellent House, though at Present it is not quite in repair." + +"If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against +him, and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a +good Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him +for admiring me, tho' perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady +Scudamore." + +"You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I +am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to yourself, +cherishing a most tender affection for him." + +"Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?" + +"Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me--Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?" + +"Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away +my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them." + +"Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why refuse +to confide in me?" + +"I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, +that I am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a +handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be +ashamed of a passion which must have been mean since the object would +have been unworthy. But with such a figure and face, and such beautiful +hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such superior +merit has made an impression on me." + +"My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a +quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such +Noble Sentiments!" + +"Do you Ma'am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady Scudamore +did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?" + +"Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word +you say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the +invisible power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so exactly +coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair is not very different. Yes my +dear Girl, the poor despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the story of +his Love--. Nor was I surprised at it--I know not how it was, but I had +a kind of presentiment that he would be in love with you." + +"Well, but how did he break it to you?" + +"It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire +together talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the +Conversation was cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, +when on a sudden he interrupted me in the midst of something I was +saying, by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone-- + +Yes I'm in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me + +"Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such +a couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are not +in rhime!" + +"I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am +very sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, with +a pretty Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent House +tho' somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with success +to the adorable Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel and +been toasted by a Baronet"--"THAT I have--" cried I. Lady Scudamore +continued. "Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced of the +little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, that +I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet surely +neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the exquisite +Gratification of dieing for her, of falling a victim to her Charms. And +when I am dead"--continued her-- + +"Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!" + +"It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore." "When +I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and perhaps +she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains." + +"Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it." + +"Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would not +for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent." + +"Pray go on." said I. She did so. + +"And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when +I feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die +to haste such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta +bless some happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly +attached to her as the hapless Musgrove and while HE crumbles to dust, +May they live an example of Felicity in the Conjugal state!" + +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be +lain at my feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have +to be capable of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. + +"Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, must +melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; +and could the divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her +happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she +would pity your affection and endeavour to return it." "Oh! Cousin +answered he, do not endeavour to raise my hopes by such flattering +assurances. No, I cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and the +only thing which remains for me to do, is to die." "True Love is ever +desponding replied I, but I my dear Tom will give you even greater +hopes of conquering this fair one's heart, than I have yet given you, by +assuring you that I watched her with the strictest attention during the +whole day, and could plainly discover that she cherishes in her bosom +though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for you." + +"Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!" + +"Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued +I to him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might +render the pleasure still Greater." "No Cousin replied he in a languid +voice, nothing will convince me that I can have touched the heart of +Henrietta Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt +deceiving me." "In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me to +Persuade the poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference for +him; but when at last he could no longer deny the force of my arguments, +or discredit what I told him, his transports, his Raptures, his Extacies +are beyond my power to describe." + +"Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my Uncle +and Aunt?" + +"Yes, I told him every thing." + +"And what did he say." + +"He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by +their Nephews or Neices, and wished HE were in the House of Commons, +that he might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses." + +"Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!" said I. + +"He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta +would condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that splendor +to which she had been used, and accept only in exchange the Comforts +and Elegancies which his limited Income could afford her, even supposing +that his house were in Readiness to receive her. I told him that it +could not be expected that she would; it would be doing her an injustice +to suppose her capable of giving up the power she now possesses and so +nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to the poorer part of her fellow +Creatures, merely for the gratification of you and herself." + +"To be sure said I, I AM very Charitable every now and then. And what +did Mr Musgrove say to this?" + +"He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the truth +of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy Creature +destined to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must bring +himself to wait, however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when she +might be freed from the power of worthless Relations and able to bestow +herself on him." + +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who +am to be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so +adeiu my dear freind, and beleive me yours etc--H. Halton. + +Finis. + + + + +***** + + + +SCRAPS + + +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN + +MY Dear Neice As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling +and Steventon from superintending your Education myself, the care of +which will probably on that account devolve on your Father and Mother, +I think it is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling as much as +possible the want of my personal instructions, by addressing to you on +paper my Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of Young Women, which +you will find expressed in the following pages.--I am my dear Neice Your +affectionate Aunt The Author. + + + + +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + +A LETTER + +My Dear Louisa Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way +to Bath, whither he is going for his health; two of his daughters were +with him, but the eldest and the three Boys are with their Mother in +Sussex. Though you have often told me that Miss Millar was remarkably +handsome, you never mentioned anything of her Sisters' beauty; yet they +are certainly extremely pretty. I'll give you their description.--Julia +is eighteen; with a countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dignity are +happily blended, she has a form which at once presents you with Grace, +Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter than her +Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity of +Julia's, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way as +estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness +the most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. +She appears to have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her +conversation during the half hour they set with us, was replete with +humourous sallies, Bonmots and repartees; while the sensible, the +amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality worthy of a heart like her +own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I had always received +of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that social Shake, and +cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old and valued +freind from whom thro' various circumstances he had been separated +nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) that +many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which gave +occasion to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections on the +many changes in their situation which so long a period had occasioned, +on the advantages of some, and the disadvantages of others. From +this subject she made a short digression to the instability of human +pleasures and the uncertainty of their duration, which led her to +observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She was proceeding to +illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great Men when +the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending +five or six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, +and I assure you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. +"Louisa Clarke (said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet +sometimes her good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. She +neither wants Understanding or is without some pretensions to Beauty, +but these are so very trifling, that the value she sets on her personal +charms, and the adoration she expects them to be offered are at once a +striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her folly." So said I, +and to my opinion everyone added weight by the concurrence of their own. +Your affectionate Arabella Smythe. + + + + +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + +CHARACTERS Popgun Maria Charles Pistolletta Postilion Hostess Chorus of +ploughboys Cook and and +Strephon Chloe + +SCENE--AN INN + +ENTER Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. + +Hostess to Maria) If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them +number 9. + +Maria) Yes Mistress.--EXIT Maria + +Hostess to Cook) If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, +give it them. + +Cook) I wull, I wull. EXIT Cook. + +Hostess to Charles) If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their +Bell--answerit. + +Charles) Yes Madam. EXEUNT Severally. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta. + +Pistoletta) Pray papa how far is it to London? + +Popgun) My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art +the picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am +going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my +whole Estate, it wants seven Miles. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE SUN-- + +ENTER Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. + +Chloe) Where am I? At Hounslow.--Where go I? To London--. What to do? To +be married--. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will +sing a song. + +SONG I go to Town And when I come down, I shall be married to Streephon * +[*Note the two e's] And that to me will be fun. + +Chorus) Be fun, be fun, be fun, And that to me will be fun. + +ENTER Cook--Cook) Here is the bill of fare. + +Chloe reads) 2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a +tart.--I will have the leg of beef and the partridge. EXIT Cook. And now +I will sing another song. + +SONG--I am going to have my dinner, After which I shan't be thinner, I +wish I had here Strephon For he would carve the partridge if it should +be a tough one. + +Chorus) Tough one, tough one, tough one For he would carve the partridge +if it Should be a tough one. EXIT Chloe and Chorus.-- + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE LION. + +Enter Strephon and Postilion. Streph:) You drove me from Staines to this +place, from whence I mean to go to Town to marry Chloe. How much is your +due? + +Post:) Eighteen pence. Streph:) Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea +with which I mean to support myself in Town. But I will pawn to you an +undirected Letter that I received from Chloe. + +Post:) Sir, I accept your offer. + +END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + + +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for +her Judgement led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart +disapproved. + +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved +Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that on +a close examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have strictly +deserved them. I murdered my father at a very early period of my Life, I +have since murdered my Mother, and I am now going to murder my Sister. I +have changed my religion so often that at present I have not an idea of +any left. I have been a perjured witness in every public tryal for these +last twelve years; and I have forged my own Will. In short there is +scarcely a crime that I have not committed--But I am now going to +reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse guards has paid his Addresses to me, +and we are to be married in a few days. As there is something singular +in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. Colonel Martin is +the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died immensely rich, but +bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice to his three younger +Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about eight Million to the +present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the Colonel lived tolerably +contented for nearly four months when he took it into his head to +determine on getting the whole of his eldest Brother's Estate. A new +will was forged and the Colonel produced it in Court--but nobody would +swear to it's being the right will except himself, and he had sworn so +much that Nobody beleived him. At that moment I happened to be passing +by the door of the Court, and was beckoned in by the Judge who told the +Colonel that I was a Lady ready to witness anything for the cause of +Justice, and advised him to apply to me. In short the Affair was soon +adjusted. The Colonel and I swore to its' being the right will, and Sir +Thomas has been obliged to resign all his illgotten wealth. The Colonel +in gratitude waited on me the next day with an offer of his hand--. I am +now going to murder my Sister. Yours Ever, Anna Parker. + + + + +A TOUR THROUGH WALES--in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY-- + +My Dear Clara I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now +had it in my power to thank you for your Letter--. We left our dear home +on last Monday month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is +a principality contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince +of Wales. We travelled on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon +our little poney and Fanny and I walked by her side or rather ran, for +my Mother is so fond of riding fast that she galloped all the way. You +may be sure that we were in a fine perspiration when we came to our +place of resting. Fanny has taken a great many Drawings of the Country, +which are very beautiful, tho' perhaps not such exact resemblances +as might be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. It would +astonish you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We determined +to take a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our own +besides those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both +capped and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite +gone, Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of +which we each took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully---I am +your ever affectionate Elizabeth Johnson. + + + + + +A TALE. + +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage in +Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested to +him by his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a Closet +for him, provided he would take a small house near the borders of an +extensive Forest, and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus gladly +accepted the offer and continued for some time searching after such a +retreat when he was one morning agreably releived from his suspence by +reading this advertisement in a Newspaper. + +TO BE LETT A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and +about three Miles from the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms +and a Closet. + +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and +shewed him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him +in his Carriage to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for +three days and six nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest +and following a track which led by it's side down a steep Hill over +which ten Rivulets meandered, they reached the Cottage in half an hour. +Wilhelminus alighted, and after knocking for some time without receiving +any answer or hearing any one stir within, he opened the door which +was fastened only by a wooden latch and entered a small room, which he +immediately perceived to be one of the two that were unfurnished--From +thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A pair of stairs that +went out of it led him into a room above, no less destitute, and these +apartments he found composed the whole of the House. He was by no means +displeased with this discovery, as he had the comfort of reflecting that +he should not be obliged to lay out anything on furniture himself--. He +returned immediately to his Brother, who took him the next day to every +Shop in Town, and bought what ever was requisite to furnish the two +rooms and the Closet, In a few days everything was completed, and +Wilhelminus returned to take possession of his Cottage. Robertus +accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable Cecilia and her two lovely +Sisters Arabella and Marina to whom Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, +and a large number of Attendants.--An ordinary Genius might probably +have been embarrassed, in endeavouring to accomodate so large a party, +but Wilhelminus with admirable presence of mind gave orders for the +immediate erection of two noble Tents in an open spot in the Forest +adjoining to the house. Their Construction was both simple and +elegant--A couple of old blankets, each supported by four sticks, gave +a striking proof of that taste for architecture and that happy ease in +overcoming difficulties which were some of Wilhelminus's most striking +Virtues. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Love And Freindship And Other Early +Works, by Jane Austen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE AND FREINDSHIP *** + +***** This file should be named 1212.txt or 1212.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/1/1212/ + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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The British 'pound' +symbol has been converted to 'L'; but in general the author's +erratic spelling, punctuation and capitalisations have been +retained.] + + +* + +CONTENTS. + +Love and Freindship +Lesley Castle +The History of England +Collection of Letters +Scraps + +* + + + +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + + + +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER +OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT +THE AUTHOR. + + +"Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love." + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From ISABEL to LAURA + +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would +give my Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and +Adventures of your Life, have you said "No, my freind never will +I comply with your request till I may be no longer in Danger of +again experiencing such dreadful ones." + +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a +woman may ever be said to be in safety from the determined +Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of +obstinate Fathers, surely it must be at such a time of Life. +Isabel + + + +LETTER 2nd +LAURA to ISABEL + +Altho' I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never +again be exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have +already experienced, yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or +ill-nature, I will gratify the curiosity of your daughter; and +may the fortitude with which I have suffered the many afflictions +of my past Life, prove to her a useful lesson for the support of +those which may befall her in her own. +Laura + + + +LETTER 3rd +LAURA to MARIANNE + +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled +to that knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so +often solicited me to give you. + +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my +Mother was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian +Opera-girl--I was born in Spain and received my Education at a +Convent in France. + +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my +Parents to my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated +in one of the most romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho' my +Charms are now considerably softened and somewhat impaired by the +Misfortunes I have undergone, I was once beautiful. But lovely +as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my +Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was +Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my +instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and +I had shortly surpassed my Masters. + +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was +the Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble +sentiment. + +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my +Freinds, my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of +my own, was my only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas! +how altered now! Tho' indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less +impression on me than they ever did, yet now I never feel for +those of an other. My accomplishments too, begin to fade--I can +neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once did--and I +have entirely forgot the MINUET DELA COUR. +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + +LETTER 4th +Laura to MARIANNE + +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your +Mother. She may probably have already told you that being left +by her Parents in indigent Circumstances she had retired into +Wales on eoconomical motives. There it was our freindship first +commenced. Isobel was then one and twenty. Tho' pleasing both +in her Person and Manners (between ourselves) she never possessed +the hundredth part of my Beauty or Accomplishments. Isabel had +seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at one of the first +Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in Bath and had +supped one night in Southampton. + +"Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid +Vanities and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; +Beware of the unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish +of Southampton." + +"Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never +be exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the +Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking +Fish of Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth +and Beauty in an humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske." + +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that +humble Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER 5th +LAURA to MARIANNE + +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were +arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a +sudden greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the +outward door of our rustic Cot. + +My Father started--"What noise is that," (said he.) "It sounds +like a loud rapping at the door"--(replied my Mother.) "it does +indeed." (cried I.) "I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it +certainly does appear to proceed from some uncommon violence +exerted against our unoffending door." "Yes (exclaimed I) I +cannot help thinking it must be somebody who knocks for +admittance." + +"That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to +determine on what motive the person may knock--tho' that someone +DOES rap at the door, I am partly convinced." + +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, +and somewhat alarmed my Mother and me. + +"Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants +are out." "I think we had." (replied I.) "Certainly, (added my +Father) by all means." "Shall we go now?" (said my Mother,) "The +sooner the better." (answered he.) "Oh! let no time be lost" +(cried I.) + +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. "I +am certain there is somebody knocking at the Door." (said my +Mother.) "I think there must," (replied my Father) "I fancy the +servants are returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the +Door." "I'm glad of it (cried my Father) for I long to know who +it is." + +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the +Room, informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at +the door, who had lossed their way, were very cold and begged +leave to warm themselves by our fire. + +"Won't you admit them?" (said I.) "You have no objection, my +Dear?" (said my Father.) "None in the World." (replied my +Mother.) + +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left +the room and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and +amiable Youth, I had ever beheld. The servant she kept to +herself. + +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the +sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first +behold him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my +future Life must depend. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER 6th +LAURA to MARIANNE + +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay--for +particular reasons however I shall conceal it under that of +Talbot. He told us that he was the son of an English Baronet, +that his Mother had been for many years no more and that he had a +Sister of the middle size. "My Father (he continued) is a mean +and mercenary wretch--it is only to such particular freinds as +this Dear Party that I would thus betray his failings. Your +Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my father) +yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to +repose in you, my confidence." We bowed. "My Father seduced by +the false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, +insisted on my giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never +exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is lovely and Engaging; I prefer no +woman to her; but know Sir, that I scorn to marry her in +compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be said that I +obliged my Father." + +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. + +"Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet +with so spirited an opposition to his will. "Where, Edward in +the name of wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning +gibberish? You have been studying Novels I suspect." I scorned +to answer: it would have been beneath my dignity. I mounted my +Horse and followed by my faithful William set forth for my +Aunts." + +"My Father's house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt's in +Middlesex, and tho' I flatter myself with being a tolerable +proficient in Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found +myself entering this beautifull Vale which I find is in South +Wales, when I had expected to have reached my Aunts." + +"After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without +knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in +the bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly +dark, not a single star was there to direct my steps, and I know +not what might have befallen me had I not at length discerned +thro' the solemn Gloom that surrounded me a distant light, which +as I approached it, I discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of +your fire. Impelled by the combination of Misfortunes under +which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold and Hunger I hesitated not to +ask admittance which at length I have gained; and now my Adorable +Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope to receive +that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have undergone +during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have ever +aspired. Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?" + +"This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward." (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho' he had never taken +orders had been bred to the Church. +Adeiu +Laura + + + +LETTER 7th +LAURA to MARIANNE + +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of +Uske. After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother +and my Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt's in Middlesex. +Philippa received us both with every expression of affectionate +Love. My arrival was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as +she had not only been totally ignorant of my Marriage with her +Nephew, but had never even had the slightest idea of there being +such a person in the World. + +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we +arrived. I found her exactly what her Brother had described her +to be--of the middle size. She received me with equal surprise +though not with equal Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a +disagreable coldness and Forbidding Reserve in her reception of +me which was equally distressing and Unexpected. None of that +interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy in her manners and +Address to me when we first met which should have distinguished +our introduction to each other. Her Language was neither warm, +nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were neither animated +nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to her Heart, +tho' my own were extended to press her to mine. + +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I +accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced +me that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love +than for the endearing intercourse of Freindship. + +"But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?" (said Augusta.) + +"Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better +opinion of me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself +as to consider my Father's Concurrence in any of my affairs, +either of Consequence or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with +sincerity; did you ever know me consult his inclinations or +follow his Advice in the least trifling Particular since the age +of fifteen?" + +"Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own +praise. Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you +were five years old, I entirely acquit you of ever having +willingly contributed to the satisfaction of your Father. But +still I am not without apprehensions of your being shortly +obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by seeking a support +for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward." + +"Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). +Support! What support will Laura want which she can receive from +him?" + +"Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink." +(answered she.) + +"Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly +contemptuous Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no +other support for an exalted mind (such as is my Laura's) than +the mean and indelicate employment of Eating and Drinking?" + +"None that I know of, so efficacious." (returned Augusta). + +"And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and +corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the +Luxury of living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with +the object of your tenderest affection?" + +"You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps +however you may in time be convinced that ..." + +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by +the appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured +into the Room at the Door of which I had been listening. On +hearing her announced by the Name of "Lady Dorothea," I instantly +quitted my Post and followed her into the Parlour, for I well +remembered that she was the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my +Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet. + +Altho' Lady Dorothea's visit was nominally to Philippa and +Augusta, yet I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with +the Marriage and arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal +motive to it. + +I soon perceived that tho' Lovely and Elegant in her Person and +tho' Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior +order of Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender +Sentiments, and refined Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. + +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her +Visit, confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested +me to confide in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine +therefore my Dear Marianne that I could not feel any ardent +affection or very sincere Attachment for Lady Dorothea. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER 8th +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as +unexpected a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir +Edward, who informed by Augusta of her Brother's marriage, came +doubtless to reproach him for having dared to unite himself to me +without his Knowledge. But Edward foreseeing his design, +approached him with heroic fortitude as soon as he entered the +Room, and addressed him in the following Manner. + +"Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here--You come +with the base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an +indissoluble engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But +Sir, I glory in the Act--. It is my greatest boast that I have +incurred the displeasure of my Father!" + +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and +Augusta were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his +undaunted Bravery, led me from the Parlour to his Father's +Carriage which yet remained at the Door and in which we were +instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir Edward. + +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the +London road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we +ordered them to Drive to M----. the seat of Edward's most +particular freind, which was but a few miles distant. + +At M----. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names +were immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward's freind. +After having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real +freind (for such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at +beholding one, most truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather +above the middle size; most elegantly formed. A soft languor +spread over her lovely features, but increased their Beauty--. +It was the Charectarestic of her Mind--. She was all sensibility +and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and after having +exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our Lives, +instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our +Hearts--. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by +the entrance of Augustus, (Edward's freind) who was just returned +from a solitary ramble. + +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of +Edward and Augustus. + +"My Life! my Soul!" (exclaimed the former) "My adorable angel!" +(replied the latter) as they flew into each other's arms. It was +too pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself--We fainted +alternately on a sofa. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER the 9th +From the same to the same + +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter +from Philippa. + +"Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has +taken back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy +again your charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you +from that, of such dear and deserving Freinds--When your Visit to +them is terminated, I trust you will return to the arms of your" +"Philippa." + +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after +thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would +certainly avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other +place to go to. Tho' certainly nothing could to any reasonable +Being, have appeared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply +to her invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was +certainly capricious enough to be displeased with our behaviour +and in a few weeks after, either to revenge our Conduct, or +releive her own solitude, married a young and illiterate Fortune- +hunter. This imprudent step (tho' we were sensible that it would +probably deprive us of that fortune which Philippa had ever +taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, excite from +our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might prove +a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling +Sensibility was greatly affected when we were first informed of +the Event.The affectionate Entreaties of Augustus and Sophia that +we would for ever consider their House as our Home, easily +prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them, In the +society of my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest +moments of my Life; Our time was most delightfully spent, in +mutual Protestations of Freindship, and in vows of unalterable +Love, in which we were secure from being interrupted, by +intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on +their first Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care to +inform the surrounding Families, that as their happiness centered +wholly in themselves, they wished for no other society. But +alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then enjoyed was too +perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at once +destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be +from what I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, +that there never were a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, +inform you that their union had been contrary to the inclinations +of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; who had vainly endeavoured +with obstinate Perseverance to force them into a Marriage with +those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a Heroic Fortitude +worthy to be related and admired, they had both, constantly +refused to submit to such despotic Power. + +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles +of Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were +determined never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in +the World, in so doing, by accepting any proposals of +reconciliation that might be offered them by their Fathers--to +this farther tryal of their noble independance however they never +were exposed. + +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them +commenced during which time they had been amply supported by a +considerable sum of money which Augustus had gracefully purloined +from his unworthy father's Escritoire, a few days before his +union with Sophia. + +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho' +their means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But +they, Exalted Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their +pecuniary Distresses and would have blushed at the idea of paying +their Debts.--Alas! what was their Reward for such disinterested +Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus was arrested and we were all +undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the merciless perpetrators +of the Deed will shock your gentle nature Dearest Marianne as +much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility of Edward, +Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat such +unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the +House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what +we did! We sighed and fainted on the sofa. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER 10th +LAURA in continuation + +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions +of our grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the +most prudent step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he +repaired to his imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. +We promised that we would, and he set forwards on his journey to +Town. During his absence we faithfully complied with his Desire +and after the most mature Deliberation, at length agreed that the +best thing we could do was to leave the House; of which we every +moment expected the officers of Justice to take possession. We +waited therefore with the greatest impatience, for the return of +Edward in order to impart to him the result of our Deliberations. +But no Edward appeared. In vain did we count the tedious moments +of his absence--in vain did we weep--in vain even did we sigh--no +Edward returned--. This was too cruel, too unexpected a Blow to +our Gentle Sensibility--we could not support it--we could only +faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was Mistress +of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for +Sophia and myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and +we instantly set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus +was within twelve miles of Town, it was not long e'er we arrived +there, and no sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one +of the Front Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person +that we passed "If they had seen my Edward?" + +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated +Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning +him. "Where am I to drive?" said the Postilion. "To Newgate +Gentle Youth (replied I), to see Augustus." "Oh! no, no, +(exclaimed Sophia) I cannot go to Newgate; I shall not be able to +support the sight of my Augustus in so cruel a confinement--my +feelings are sufficiently shocked by the RECITAL, of his +Distress, but to behold it will overpower my Sensibility." As I +perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her Sentiments the +Postilion was instantly directed to return into the Country. You +may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest Marianne, +that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any support, +and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have +remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the +Vale of Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must +inform you of a trifling circumstance concerning them which I +have as yet never mentioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks +after my Departure, is the circumstance I allude to. By their +decease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their House and +Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their own and their +Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own Lives. Such is the +Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have returned +with Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to her, +my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the +remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, +had not one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, +intervened; which was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to +a distant part of Ireland. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER 11th +LAURA in continuation + +"I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left +London) who I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me." +"Shall I order the Boy to drive there?" said I--but instantly +recollecting myself, exclaimed, "Alas I fear it will be too long +a Journey for the Horses." Unwilling however to act only from my +own inadequate Knowledge of the Strength and Abilities of Horses, +I consulted the Postilion, who was entirely of my Opinion +concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change Horses +at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey +--. When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which +was but a few miles from the House of Sophia's Relation, +unwilling to intrude our Society on him unexpected and unthought +of, we wrote a very elegant and well penned Note to him +containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy Situation, +and of our intention to spend some months with him in Scotland. +As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, we immediately prepared +to follow it in person and were stepping into the Carriage for +that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the Entrance of +a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first +Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e'er I had +gazed at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my +Heart, that he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be +mistaken in my conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I +had just entered, and following the Venerable Stranger into the +Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself on my knees before him +and besought him to acknowledge me as his Grand Child. He +started, and having attentively examined my features, raised me +from the Ground and throwing his Grand-fatherly arms around my +Neck, exclaimed, "Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance of my +Laurina and Laurina's Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my +Claudia's Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the +one and the Grandaughter of the other." While he was thus +tenderly embracing me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate +Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner had she +caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he exclaimed with +every mark of Astonishment --"Another Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I +see you are the Daughter of my Laurina's eldest Girl; your +resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently proclaims it. +"Oh!" replied Sophia, "when I first beheld you the instinct of +Nature whispered me that we were in some degree related--But +whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to +determine." He folded her in his arms, and whilst they were +tenderly embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most +beautifull young Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair +started and retreating back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, +said, "Another Grand-child! What an unexpected Happiness is +this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many of my +Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my +Laurina's 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the +presence of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my Laurina's Grand- +Children." + +"And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered +the room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son +of Agatha your Laurina's 4th and youngest Daughter," "I see you +are indeed; replied Lord St. Clair--But tell me (continued he +looking fearfully towards the Door) tell me, have I any other +Grand-children in the House." "None my Lord." "Then I will +provide for you all without farther delay--Here are 4 Banknotes +of 50L each--Take them and remember I have done the Duty of a +Grandfather." He instantly left the Room and immediately +afterwards the House. +Adeiu, +Laura. + + + +LETTER the 12th +LAURA in continuation + +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden +departure of Lord St Clair. "Ignoble Grand-sire!" exclaimed +Sophia. "Unworthy Grandfather!" said I, and instantly fainted in +each other's arms. How long we remained in this situation I know +not; but when we recovered we found ourselves alone, without +either Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As we were +deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment opened and +"Macdonald" was announced. He was Sophia's cousin. The haste +with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of our +Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to +pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. +Alas! he little deserved the name--for though he told us that he +was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it +appeared that the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a +single sigh, nor induced him to bestow one curse on our +vindictive stars--. He told Sophia that his Daughter depended on +her returning with him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his +Cousin's freind he should be happy to see me there also. To +Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were received with great +kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and the Mistress +of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally well +disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic +Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly +encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but +unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently +exalted to admire so promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured +by every means on his power to prevent it encreasing with her +Years. He had actually so far extinguished the natural noble +Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail on her to accept an offer +from a young Man of his Recommendation. They were to be married +in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when we arrived. +WE soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as one +might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he +was Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to +Judge of such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, +that he had never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair +bore not the least resemblance to auburn, we were certain that +Janetta could feel no affection for him, or at least that she +ought to feel none. The very circumstance of his being her +father's choice too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he +been deserving her, in every other respect yet THAT of itself +ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of Janetta for +rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to +represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting +with the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; +whose errors in the affair had only arisen from a want of proper +confidence in her own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her +father's. We found her indeed all that our warmest wishes could +have hoped for; we had no difficulty to convince her that it was +impossible she could love Graham, or that it was her Duty to +disobey her Father; the only thing at which she rather seemed to +hesitate was our assertion that she must be attached to some +other Person. For some time, she persevered in declaring that +she knew no other young man for whom she had the the smallest +Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a thing +she said that she beleived she DID LIKE Captain M'Kenrie better +than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and +after having enumerated the good Qualities of M'Kenrie and +assured her that she was violently in love with him, we desired +to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his affection to +her. + +"So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine +that he has ever felt any for me." said Janetta. "That he +certainly adores you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt--. +The Attachment must be reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with +admiration--tenderly press your hand--drop an involantary tear-- +and leave the room abruptly?" "Never (replied she) that I +remember--he has always left the room indeed when his visit has +been ended, but has never gone away particularly abruptly or +without making a bow." Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken--for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever +have left you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. +Consider but for a moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how +absurd it is to suppose that he could ever make a Bow, or behave +like any other Person." Having settled this Point to our +satisfaction, the next we took into consideration was, to +determine in what manner we should inform M'Kenrie of the +favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him. . . . We at +length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter +which Sophia drew up in the following manner. + +"Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable +Possessor of HER Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do +you thus delay a confession of your attachment to the amiable +Object of it? Oh! consider that a few weeks will at once put an +end to every flattering Hope that you may now entertain, by +uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father's Cruelty to the +execrable and detested Graham." + +"Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected +Misery of her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that +scheme which had doubtless long possessed your imagination? A +secret Union will at once secure the felicity of both." + +The amiable M'Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us +had been the only reason of his having so long concealed the +violence of his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet +flew on the wings of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully +pleaded his Attachment to her who inspired it, that after a few +more private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the +satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which they +chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any +other place although it was at a considerable distance from +Macdonald-Hall. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER the 13th +LAURA in continuation + +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either +Macdonald or Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. +And they might not even then have suspected it, but for the +following little Accident. Sophia happening one day to open a +private Drawer in Macdonald's Library with one of her own keys, +discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of +consequence and amongst them some bank notes of considerable +amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and having agreed +together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a Wretch +as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly gained, +it was determined that the next time we should either of us +happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank +notes from the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often +successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the very day of +Janetta's Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th +Bank-note from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most +impertinently interrupted in her employment by the entrance of +Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and precipitate Manner. +Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness could when +occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry +frown on the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of +voice "Wherefore her retirement was thus insolently broken in +on?" The unblushing Macdonald, without even endeavouring to +exculpate himself from the crime he was charged with, meanly +endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his +money . . . The dignity of Sophia was wounded; "Wretch (exclaimed +she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest +thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea makes me +blush?" The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to +upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language, +that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her +Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by informing +him of Janetta's Elopement, and of the active Part we had both +taken in the affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered +the Library and was as you may imagine equally offended as Sophia +at the ill-grounded accusations of the malevolent and +contemptible Macdonald. "Base Miscreant! (cried I) how canst +thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation +of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect MY +innocence as soon?" "Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I DO suspect +it, and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House +in less than half an hour." + +"We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long +detested thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter +could have induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof." + +"Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully +exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune- +hunter." (replied he) + +"Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us +some consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to +Janetta, we have amply discharged every obligation that we have +received from her father." + +"It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted +minds." (said he.) + +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left +Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half +we sate down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our +exhausted limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of +full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East--. A Bed of full- +grown Nettles from the West--. Before us ran the murmuring brook +and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for +contemplation and in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. +A mutual silence which had for some time reigned between us, was +at length broke by my exclaiming--"What a lovely scene! Alas why +are not Edward and Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?" + +"Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity's sake forbear +recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my +imprisoned Husband. Alas, what would I not give to learn the +fate of my Augustus! to know if he is still in Newgate, or if he +is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to conquer my +tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I +beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name--. +It affects me too deeply --. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned +it wounds my feelings." + +"Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you--" +replied I--and then changing the conversation, desired her to +admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the +Eastern Zephyr. "Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so +melancholy a subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my +Sensibility by observations on those elms. They remind me of +Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic--he possessed that +noble grandeur which you admire in them." + +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress +her by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might +again remind her of Augustus. + +"Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) +"I cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own +reflections; they ever recur to Augustus." + +"What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure +varied by those delicate streaks of white!" + +"Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a +momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling +my Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my +Augustus's blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to +your unhappy freind avoid a subject so distressing." What could I +do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and +the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had not +power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in +some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by +directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be silent would be +cruel; she had intreated me to talk. + +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident +truly apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman's +Phaeton, on the road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a +most fortunate accident as it diverted the attention of Sophia +from the melancholy reflections which she had been before +indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue +of those who but a few moments before had been in so elevated a +situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now laid +low and sprawling in the Dust. "What an ample subject for +reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not +that Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking +Mind!" said I to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of +Action. + +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged +by the horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly +attired but weltering in their blood was what first struck our +Eyes--we approached--they were Edward and Augustus--. Yes dearest +Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on +the ground--I screamed and instantly ran mad--. We remained thus +mutually deprived of our senses, some minutes, and on regaining +them were deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter did +we continue in this unfortunate situation--Sophia fainting every +moment and I running mad as often. At length a groan from the +hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of life) restored us +to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that either of them +lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif--but as we +had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we +knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. +No sooner did we therefore hear my Edward's groan than postponing +our lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear +Youth and kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die--. +"Laura (said He fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have +been overturned." + +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. + +"Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you +die, what has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which +Augustus was arrested and we were separated--" + +"I will" (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired +--. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon--. MY greif was +more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, +my face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably +impaired--. + +"Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, +incoherent manner)--Give me a violin--. I'll play to him and +sooth him in his melancholy Hours--Beware ye gentle Nymphs of +Cupid's Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter--Look +at that grove of Firs--I see a Leg of Mutton--They told me Edward +was not Dead; but they deceived me--they took him for a cucumber +--" Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward's Death--. +For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not then have left +off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia who was +just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that +Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. "And +whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?" "To +that white Cottage." (replied she pointing to a neat Building +which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before +observed--) I agreed and we instantly walked to it--we knocked at +the door--it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to +afford us a Night's Lodging, she informed us that her House was +but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but that However we +should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied and +followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly +cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire--. She was a widow +and had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen--One of +the best of ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was +Bridget. . . . . Nothing therfore could be expected from her--she +could not be supposed to possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate +Feelings or refined Sensibilities--. She was nothing more than a +mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as such we +could scarcely dislike here--she was only an Object of Contempt +--. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER the 14th +LAURA in continuation + +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you +are Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for +alas! in the perusal of the following Pages your sensibility +will be most severely tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I +had before experienced and which I have already related to you, +to the one I am now going to inform you of. The Death of my +Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost more than my +gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison to the +misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after our +arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in +her delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake She +attributed it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the +open air as the Dew was falling the Evening before. This I +feared was but too probably the case; since how could it be +otherwise accounted for that I should have escaped the same +indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily Exertions I had +undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so effectually +circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against the +chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive +on the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I +was most seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it +may appear to you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered +me, would in the End be fatal to her. + +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually +worse--and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she +was obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by +our worthy Landlady--. Her disorder turned to a galloping +Consumption and in a few days carried her off. Amidst all my +Lamentations for her (and violent you may suppose they were) I +yet received some consolation in the reflection of my having paid +every attention to her, that could be offered, in her illness. I +had wept over her every Day--had bathed her sweet face with my +tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in mine--. "My +beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) take +warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which +had occasioned it. . . Beware of fainting-fits. . . Though at the +time they may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will +in the end, if too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove +destructive to your Constitution. . . My fate will teach you +this. . I die a Martyr to my greif for the loss of Augustus. . +One fatal swoon has cost me my Life. . Beware of swoons Dear +Laura. . . . A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is +an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say +conducive to Health in its consequences--Run mad as often as you +chuse; but do not faint--" + +These were the last words she ever addressed to me. . It was her +dieing Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most +faithfully adhered to it. + +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I +immediately (tho' late at night) left the detested Village in +which she died, and near which had expired my Husband and +Augustus. I had not walked many yards from it before I was +overtaken by a stage-coach, in which I instantly took a place, +determined to proceed in it to Edinburgh, where I hoped to find +some kind some pitying Freind who would receive and comfort me in +my afflictions. + +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not +distinguish the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only +perceive that they were many. Regardless however of anything +concerning them, I gave myself up to my own sad Reflections. A +general silence prevailed--A silence, which was by nothing +interrupted but by the loud and repeated snores of one of the +Party. + +"What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to +myself) What a total want of delicate refinement must he have, +who can thus shock our senses by such a brutal noise! He must I +am certain be capable of every bad action! There is no crime too +black for such a Character!" Thus reasoned I within myself, and +doubtless such were the reflections of my fellow travellers. + +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled +Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir +Edward the father of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate +Augusta, and on the same seat with me were your Mother and Lady +Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at finding myself thus seated +amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my astonishment, it +was yet increased, when on looking out of Windows, I beheld the +Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his side, on the Coachbox +and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander and Gustavus in +the Basket. "Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible that I +should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and +Connections?" These words roused the rest of the Party, and +every eye was directed to the corner in which I sat. "Oh! my +Isabel (continued I throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her +arms) receive once more to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura. +Alas! when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I was happy in +being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father and a +Mother, and had never known misfortunes--But now deprived of +every freind but you--" + +"What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I +intreat you what is become of him?" "Yes, cold and insensible +Nymph, (replied I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, +and you may now glory in being the Heiress of Sir Edward's +fortune." + +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard +her conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with +hers and Sir Edward's intreaties that I would inform them of the +whole melancholy affair. They were greatly shocked--even the +obdurate Heart of Sir Edward and the insensible one of Augusta, +were touched with sorrow, by the unhappy tale. At the request of +your Mother I related to them every other misfortune which had +befallen me since we parted. Of the imprisonment of Augustus and +the absence of Edward--of our arrival in Scotland--of our +unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our cousins--of our +visit to Macdonald-Hall--of the singular service we there +performed towards Janetta--of her Fathers ingratitude for it . . +of his inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous +treatment of us, in obliging us to leave the House . . of our +lamentations on the loss of Edward and Augustus and finally of +the melancholy Death of my beloved Companion. + +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother's +countenance, during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to +say, that to the eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter +infinitely predominated. Nay, faultless as my conduct had +certainly been during the whole course of my late misfortunes and +adventures, she pretended to find fault with my behaviour in many +of the situations in which I had been placed. As I was sensible +myself, that I had always behaved in a manner which reflected +Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid little attention to +what she said, and desired her to satisfy my Curiosity by +informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my spotless +reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had +complyed with my wishes in this particular and had given me an +accurate detail of every thing that had befallen her since our +separation (the particulars of which if you are not already +acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I applied to Augusta +for the same information respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady +Dorothea. + +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties +of Nature, her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it +exhibited in that part of the World had been so much raised by +Gilpin's Tour to the Highlands, that she had prevailed on her +Father to undertake a Tour to Scotland and had persuaded Lady +Dorothea to accompany them. That they had arrived at Edinburgh a +few Days before and from thence had made daily Excursions into the +Country around in the Stage Coach they were then in, from one of +which Excursions they were at that time returning. My next +enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter of +whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, +namely, Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged +to them except their Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in +order to be removed from any of his former Acquaintance, had +driven it to Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other +Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection for her +ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and generally +accompanied him in his little Excursions to Sterling. "It has only +been to throw a little money into their Pockets (continued +Augusta) that my Father has always travelled in their Coach to +veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival in Scotland +--for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from +Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other +Day in a crowded and uncomfortable Stage." I perfectly agreed with +her in her sentiments on the affair, and secretly blamed Sir +Edward for thus sacrificing his Daughter's Pleasure for the sake +of a ridiculous old woman whose folly in marrying so young a man +ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was entirely of a +peice with his general Character; for what could be expected from +a man who possessed not the smallest atom of Sensibility, who +scarcely knew the meaning of simpathy, and who actually snored--. +Adeiu +Laura. + + + +LETTER the 15th +LAURA in continuation. + +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was +determined to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that +purpose as soon as I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and +tenderly enquired after their Health, expressing my fears of the +uneasiness of their situation. At first they seemed rather +confused at my appearance dreading no doubt that I might call them +to account for the money which our Grandfather had left me and +which they had unjustly deprived me of, but finding that I +mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to step into the +Basket as we might there converse with greater ease. Accordingly I +entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring green tea +and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and +sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them +of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, +and at my request they related to me every incident of theirs. + +"We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest +Daughters which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera +girl. Our mothers could neither of them exactly ascertain who were +our Father, though it is generally beleived that Philander, is the +son of one Philip Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father was one +Gregory Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of little +consequence for as our Mothers were certainly never married to +either of them it reflects no Dishonour on our Blood, which is of +a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha (the Mother of +Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived together. They +were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes had +originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had +always lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was +diminished to nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in +a Drawer in one of the Tables which stood in our common sitting +Parlour, for the convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether +it was from this circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from +a wish of being independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for +which we were always remarkable) I cannot now determine, but +certain it is that when we had reached our 15th year, we took the +nine Hundred Pounds and ran away. Having obtained this prize we +were determined to manage it with eoconomy and not to spend it +either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose we therefore +divided it into nine parcels, one of which we devoted to Victuals, +the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th to Carriages, the +5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th +to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged +our Expences for two months (for we expected to make the nine +Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London and had the +good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner +than we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered +ourselves from the weight of so much money, we began to think of +returning to our Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were +both starved to Death, we gave over the design and determined to +engage ourselves to some strolling Company of Players, as we had +always a turn for the Stage. Accordingly we offered our services +to one and were accepted; our Company was indeed rather small, as +it consisted only of the Manager his wife and ourselves, but there +were fewer to pay and the only inconvenience attending it was the +Scarcity of Plays which for want of People to fill the Characters, +we could perform. We did not mind trifles however--. One of our +most admired Performances was MACBETH, in which we were truly +great. The Manager always played BANQUO himself, his Wife my LADY +MACBETH. I did the THREE WITCHES and Philander acted ALL THE REST. +To say the truth this tragedy was not only the Best, but the only +Play that we ever performed; and after having acted it all over +England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to exhibit it over the +remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be quartered in that +very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather--. We were in +the Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the arms +to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our +Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get something from him by +discovering the Relationship--. You know how well it succeeded--. +Having obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the +Town, leaving our Manager and his Wife to act MACBETH by +themselves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our +little fortune with great ECLAT. We are now returning to Edinburgh +in order to get some preferment in the Acting way; and such my +Dear Cousin is our History." + +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and +after expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left +them in their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds +who impatiently expected me. + +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; +at least for the present. + +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the +Widow of his son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four +Hundred a year. I graciously promised that I would, but could not +help observing that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on +account of my being the Widow of Edward than in being the refined +and amiable Laura. + +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands +of Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can +uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy +solitude, my unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my +Mother, my Husband and my Freind. + +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of +all others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him +during her stay in Scotland. + +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, +at the same time married Lady Dorothea--. His wishes have been +answered. + +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by +their Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to +Covent Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of +LUVIS and QUICK. + +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however +still continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to +Sterling:-- +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne. +Laura. + +Finis + +June 13th 1790. + + + +* + +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + + +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. + +Sir + +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently +honoured me with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it +is unfinished, I greive; yet fear that from me, it will always +remain so; that as far as it is carried, it should be so trifling +and so unworthy of you, is another concern to your obliged humble +Servant + +The Author + + +Messrs Demand and Co--please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum +of one hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. + +H. T. Austen + +L105. 0. 0. + +* + +LESLEY CASTLE + + + +LETTER the FIRST is from +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL. +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd--1792. + +My Brother has just left us. "Matilda (said he at parting) you +and Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear +little one, that she might have received from an indulgent, and +affectionate and amiable Mother." Tears rolled down his cheeks +as he spoke these words--the remembrance of her, who had so +wantonly disgraced the Maternal character and so openly violated +the conjugal Duties, prevented his adding anything farther; he +embraced his sweet Child and after saluting Matilda and Me +hastily broke from us and seating himself in his Chaise, pursued +the road to Aberdeen. Never was there a better young Man! Ah! +how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has experienced in +the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! for you +know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her +Child and reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and +dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a +less amiable Heart than Louisa owned! Her child already +possesses the personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she +inherit from her Father all his mental ones! Lesley is at +present but five and twenty, and has already given himself up to +melancholy and Despair; what a difference between him and his +Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the Beau, the flighty +stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that his Son was +really about five years back, and that HE has affected to appear +ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about +the streets of London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the +age of 57, Matilda and I continue secluded from Mankind in our +old and Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from Perth +on a bold projecting Rock, and commands an extensive veiw of the +Town and its delightful Environs. But tho' retired from almost +all the World, (for we visit no one but the M'Leods, The +M'Kenzies, the M'Phersons, the M'Cartneys, the M'Donalds, The +M'kinnons, the M'lellans, the M'kays, the Macbeths and the +Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the contrary there +never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty girls, +than we are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We +read, we work, we walk, and when fatigued with these Employments +releive our spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, +or by some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are handsome my +dear Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our Perfections +is, that we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why +do I thus dwell on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of +our dear little Neice the innocent Louisa, who is at present +sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as she reposes on the sofa. The +dear Creature is just turned of two years old; as handsome as +tho' 2 and 20, as sensible as tho' 2 and 30, and as prudent as +tho' 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you that +she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she +already knows the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she +never tears her frocks--. If I have not now convinced you of her +Beauty, Sense and Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in +support of my assertion, and you will therefore have no way of +deciding the Affair but by coming to Lesley-Castle, and by a +personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine for yourself. Ah! +my dear Freind, how happy should I be to see you within these +venerable Walls! It is now four years since my removal from +School has separated me from you; that two such tender Hearts, so +closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and Freindship, +should be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I +live in Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were +my Father disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be +there at the same time. We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or +anywhere else indeed, could we but be at the same place together. +We have only to hope that such a period may arrive. My Father +does not return to us till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland +in a few Days; he is impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He +vainly flatters himself that change of Air will heal the Wounds +of a broken Heart! You will join with me I am certain my dear +Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of the unhappy Lesley's +peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to that of your +sincere freind +M. Lesley. + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. +Glenford Febry 12 + +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed +thanking you my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which +beleive me I should not have deferred doing, had not every moment +of my time during the last five weeks been so fully employed in +the necessary arrangements for my sisters wedding, as to allow me +no time to devote either to you or myself. And now what provokes +me more than anything else is that the Match is broke off, and +all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great the Dissapointment +must be to me, when you consider that after having laboured both +by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner ready by +the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton, +and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the +Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been +Roasting, Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no +purpose. Indeed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any +vexation equal to what I experienced on last Monday when my +sister came running to me in the store-room with her face as +White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me that Hervey had been +thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and was pronounced +by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. "Good God! +(said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will +become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it +while it is good. However, we'll call in the Surgeon to help us. +I shall be able to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat +the soup, and You and the Doctor must finish the rest." Here I +was interrupted, by seeing my poor Sister fall down to appearance +Lifeless upon one of the Chests, where we keep our Table linen. +I immediately called my Mother and the Maids, and at last we +brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she was sensible, +she expressed a determination of going instantly to Henry, and +was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest +Difficulty in the World to prevent her putting it in execution; +at last however more by Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her +to go into her room; we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued +for some Hours in the most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I +continued in the room with her, and when any intervals of +tolerable Composure in Eloisa would allow us, we joined in +heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in our provisions +which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some plan for +getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do +was to begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered +up the cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan +on them with great Alacrity. We would have persuaded Eloisa to +have taken a Wing of a Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. +She was however much quieter than she had been; the convulsions +she had before suffered having given way to an almost perfect +Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by every means in our +power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. "Dear +Eloisa (said I) there's no occasion for your crying so much about +such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order +to comfort her) I beg you would not mind it--You see it does not +vex me in the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it +after all; for I shall not only be obliged to eat up all the +Victuals I have dressed already, but must if Henry should recover +(which however is not very likely) dress as much for you again; +or should he die (as I suppose he will) I shall still have to +prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry any one else. So you +see that tho' perhaps for the present it may afflict you to think +of Henry's sufferings, Yet I dare say he'll die soon, and then +his pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my Trouble +will last much longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain +that the pantry cannot be cleared in less than a fortnight." Thus +I did all in my power to console her, but without any effect, and +at last as I saw that she did not seem to listen to me, I said no +more, but leaving her with my Mother I took down the remains of +The Ham and Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He +was not expected to live many Hours; he died the same day. We +took all possible care to break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in +the tenderest manner; yet in spite of every precaution, her +sufferings on hearing it were too violent for her reason, and she +continued for many hours in a high Delirium. She is still +extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly afraid of her going +into a Decline. We are therefore preparing for Bristol, where we +mean to be in the course of the next week. And now my dear +Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and in the first +place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, your +Father is going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so +unpleasing a report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit +it. I have written to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for +information concerning it, which as she is at present in Town, +she will be very able to give me. I know not who is the Lady. I +think your Brother is extremely right in the resolution he has +taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to obliterate +from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have lately +so much afflicted him-- I am happy to find that tho' secluded +from all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy +--that you may never know what it is to, be either is the wish of +your sincerely affectionate +C.L. + +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind +Susan, which I enclose to you, and on which you will make your +own reflections. + +The enclosed LETTER + +My dear CHARLOTTE +You could not have applied for information concerning the report +of Sir George Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it +you than I am. Sir George is certainly married; I was myself +present at the Ceremony, which you will not be surprised at when +I subscribe myself your Affectionate +Susan Lesley + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL +Lesley Castle February the 16th + +I have made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, +my Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections +were. I reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George +should have a second family, our fortunes must be considerably +diminushed--that if his Wife should be of an extravagant turn, +she would encourage him to persevere in that gay and Dissipated +way of Life to which little encouragement would be necessary, and +which has I fear already proved but too detrimental to his health +and fortune--that she would now become Mistress of those Jewels +which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir George had always +promised us--that if they did not come into Perthshire I should +not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my Mother-in-law +and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at the head of +her Father's table--. These my dear Charlotte were the +melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after +perusing Susan's letter to you, and which instantly occurred to +Matilda when she had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the +same fears, immediately occupied her Mind, and I know not which +reflection distressed her most, whether the probable Diminution +of our Fortunes, or her own Consequence. We both wish very much +to know whether Lady Lesley is handsome and what is your opinion +of her; as you honour her with the appellation of your freind, we +flatter ourselves that she must be amiable. My Brother is +already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few Days, and to +begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull manner, +says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his Health +and Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa +with any degree either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels +himself obliged to her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very +good fun to be single again. By this, you may perceive that he +has entirely regained that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, +for which he was once so remarkable. When he first became +acquainted with Louisa which was little more than three years +ago, he was one of the most lively, the most agreable young Men +of the age--. I beleive you never yet heard the particulars of +his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our cousin +Colonel Drummond's; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. +Louisa Burton was the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. +Drummond, who dieing a few Months before in extreme poverty, left +his only Child then about eighteen to the protection of any of +his Relations who would protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only +one who found herself so disposed--Louisa was therefore removed +from a miserable Cottage in Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in +Cumberland, and from every pecuniary Distress that Poverty could +inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment that Money could purchase--. +Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and Cunning; but she had been +taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the appearance of +insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, that to +be married, would be the only chance she would have of not being +starved, and who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary +share of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of Manners, and +an engaging address, she might stand a good chance of pleasing +some young Man who might afford to marry a girl without a +Shilling. Louisa perfectly entered into her father's schemes and +was determined to forward them with all her care and attention. +By dint of Perseverance and Application, she had at length so +thoroughly disguised her natural disposition under the mask of +Innocence, and Softness, as to impose upon every one who had not +by a long and constant intimacy with her discovered her real +Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley first beheld +her at Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your favourite +comparison) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a Whipt- +syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few Days, +he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell, and before +he had known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at +first highly displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; +but when he found that they did not mind it, he soon became +perfectly reconciled to the match. The Estate near Aberdeen +which my brother possesses by the bounty of his great Uncle +independant of Sir George, was entirely sufficient to support him +and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the first twelvemonth, +no one could be happier than Lesley, and no one more amiable to +appearance than Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and so +cautiously behave that tho' Matilda and I often spent several +weeks together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspicion +of her real Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, +which one would have thought would have strengthened her regard +for Lesley, the mask she had so long supported was by degrees +thrown aside, and as probably she then thought herself secure in +the affection of her Husband (which did indeed appear if possible +augmented by the birth of his Child) she seemed to take no pains +to prevent that affection from ever diminushing. Our visits +therefore to Dunbeath, were now less frequent and by far less +agreable than they used to be. Our absence was however never +either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of +young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was +at one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than +in that of Matilda and your freind, tho' there certainly never +were pleasanter girls than we are. You know the sad end of all +Lesleys connubial happiness; I will not repeat it--. Adeiu my +dear Charlotte; although I have not yet mentioned anything of the +matter, I hope you will do me the justice to beleive that I THINK +and FEEL, a great deal for your Sisters affliction. I do not +doubt but that the healthy air of the Bristol downs will intirely +remove it, by erasing from her Mind the remembrance of Henry. I +am my dear Charlotte yrs ever +M. L. + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY +Bristol February 27th + +My Dear Peggy +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to +Sussex while I was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me +here, and from some unaccountable Delay, has but this instant +reached me--. I return you many thanks for the account it +contains of Lesley's acquaintance, Love and Marriage with Louisa, +which has not the less entertained me for having often been +repeated to me before. + +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every +reason to imagine our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as +we left Particular orders with the servants to eat as hard as +they possibly could, and to call in a couple of Chairwomen to +assist them. We brought a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold +tongue, and half a dozen Jellies with us, which we were lucky +enough with the help of our Landlady, her husband, and their +three children, to get rid of, in less than two days after our +arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very indifferent both in Health +and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air of the Bristol downs, +healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor Henry from her +remembrance. + +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and +amiable--I will now give you an exact description of her bodily +and mental charms. She is short, and extremely well made; is +naturally pale, but rouges a good deal; has fine eyes, and fine +teeth, as she will take care to let you know as soon as she sees +you, and is altogether very pretty. She is remarkably good- +tempered when she has her own way, and very lively when she is +not out of humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very +affected; she never reads anything but the letters she receives +from me, and never writes anything but her answers to them. She +plays, sings and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells +in none, tho' she says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps +you may flatter me so far as to be surprised that one of whom I +speak with so little affection should be my particular freind; +but to tell you the truth, our freindship arose rather from +Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. We spent two or three +days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom we both happened +to be connected--. During our visit, the Weather being +remarkably bad, and our party particularly stupid, she was so +good as to conceive a violent partiality for me, which very soon +settled in a downright Freindship and ended in an established +correspondence. She is probably by this time as tired of me, as +I am of her; but as she is too Polite and I am too civil to say +so, our letters are still as frequent and affectionate as ever, +and our Attachment as firm and sincere as when it first +commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures of London, +and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some difficulty +in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I dare say +she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those +favourite haunts of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho' +venerable gloom of the castle you inhabit. Perhaps however if she +finds her health impaired by too much amusement, she may acquire +fortitude sufficient to undertake a Journey to Scotland in the +hope of its Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not +conducive to her happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, +concerning your father's extravagance, your own fortunes, your +Mothers Jewels and your Sister's consequence, I should suppose +are but too well founded. My freind herself has four thousand +pounds, and will probably spend nearly as much every year in +Dress and Public places, if she can get it--she will certainly +not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living to +which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some +reason to fear that you will be very well off, if you get any +fortune at all. The Jewels I should imagine too will undoubtedly +be hers, and there is too much reason to think that she will +preside at her Husbands table in preference to his Daughter. But +as so melancholy a subject must necessarily extremely distress +you, I will no longer dwell on it--. + +Eloisa's indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so +unfashionable a season of the year, that we have actually seen +but one genteel family since we came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are +very agreable people; the ill health of their little boy +occasioned their arrival here; you may imagine that being the +only family with whom we can converse, we are of course on a +footing of intimacy with them; we see them indeed almost every +day, and dined with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant +Day, and had a very good Dinner, tho' to be sure the Veal was +terribly underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not +help wishing all dinner-time that I had been at the dressing +it--. A brother of Mrs Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at +present; he is a good-looking young Man, and seems to have a good +deal to say for himself. I tell Eloisa that she should set her +cap at him, but she does not at all seem to relish the proposal. +I should like to see the girl married and Cleveland has a very +good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not consider +myself as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but to +tell you the truth I never wish to act a more principal part at a +Wedding than the superintending and directing the Dinner, and +therefore while I can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, +I shall never think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect +that I should not have so much time for dressing my own Wedding- +dinner, as for dressing that of my freinds. +Yours sincerely +C. L. + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL +Lesley-Castle March 18th + +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda +received one from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and +informed us that he should do himself the pleasure of introducing +Lady Lesley to us on the following evening. This as you may +suppose considerably surprised us, particularly as your account +of her Ladyship had given us reason to imagine there was little +chance of her visiting Scotland at a time that London must be so +gay. As it was our business however to be delighted at such a +mark of condescension as a visit from Sir George and Lady Lesley, +we prepared to return them an answer expressive of the happiness +we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily +recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next +Evening, it would be impossible for my father to receive it +before he left Edinburgh, we contented ourselves with leaving +them to suppose that we were as happy as we ought to be. At nine +in the Evening on the following day, they came, accompanied by +one of Lady Lesleys brothers. Her Ladyship perfectly answers the +description you sent me of her, except that I do not think her so +pretty as you seem to consider her. She has not a bad face, but +there is something so extremely unmajestic in her little +diminutive figure, as to render her in comparison with the +elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant Dwarf. +Her curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her +more than four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she +already begins to mention their return to town, and has desired +us to accompany her. We cannot refuse her request since it is +seconded by the commands of our Father, and thirded by the +entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is certainly one of the most +pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not yet determined when +we are to go, but when ever we do we shall certainly take our +little Louisa with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; Matilda unites in +best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever +M. L. + + + +LETTER the SIXTH +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL +Lesley-Castle March 20th + +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I +already heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in +Portman-square for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as +this. You can form no idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon- +like form. It is actually perched upon a Rock to appearance so +totally inaccessible, that I expected to have been pulled up by a +rope; and sincerely repented having gratified my curiosity to +behold my Daughters at the expence of being obliged to enter +their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a manner. But as +soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside of this +tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having +my spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as +the Miss Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But +here again, I met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. +Matilda and Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, +over-grown, girls, just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle +almost as large in comparison as themselves. I wish my dear +Charlotte that you could but behold these Scotch giants; I am +sure they would frighten you out of your wits. They will do very +well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to accompany me +to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. +Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat +here who I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she +was, and gave me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss +SOMEBODY which I have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest +Children. I have been plagued ever since I came here with +tiresome visits from a parcel of Scotch wretches, with terrible +hard-names; they were so civil, gave me so many invitations, and +talked of coming again so soon, that I could not help affronting +them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and yet as a +family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do with +myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings +but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems--and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my +toilett with a great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress +here, since there is not a creature in the House whom I have any +wish to please. I have just had a conversation with my Brother in +which he has greatly offended me, and which as I have nothing +more entertaining to send you I will gave you the particulars of. +You must know that I have for these 4 or 5 Days past strongly +suspected William of entertaining a partiality to my eldest +Daughter. I own indeed that had I been inclined to fall in love +with any woman, I should not have made choice of Matilda Lesley +for the object of my passion; for there is nothing I hate so much +as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for some +men's taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I +have a very great affection for my Brother and should be +extremely sorry to see him unhappy, which I suppose he means to +be if he cannot marry Matilda, as moreover I know that his +circumstances will not allow him to marry any one without a +fortune, and that Matilda's is entirely dependant on her Father, +who will neither have his own inclination nor my permission to +give her anything at present, I thought it would be doing a good- +natured action by my Brother to let him know as much, in order +that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer his passion, +or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning +alone with him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I +opened the cause to him in the following Manner. + +"Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my +part, I do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you +may think me partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps +you are right-- They are indeed so very like Sir George that it +is natural to think"-- + +"My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You +do not really think they bear the least resemblance to their +Father! He is so very plain!--but I beg your pardon--I had +entirely forgotten to whom I was speaking--" + +"Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George +is horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a +fright." + +"You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say +both with respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot +think your Husband so deficient in personal Charms as you speak +of, nor can you surely see any resemblance between him and the +Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion perfectly unlike him and +perfectly Handsome." + +"If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is +no proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly +unlike him and very handsome at the same time, it is natural to +suppose that he is very plain." + +"By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be +very unpleasing in a Man." + +"But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him +to be very plain." + +"Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex." (said he). + +"Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable." + +"Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about HIS Beauty, but +your opinion of his DAUGHTERS is surely very singular, for if I +understood you right, you said you did not find them so plain as +you expected to do!" + +"Why, do YOU find them plainer then?" (said I). + +"I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you +speak of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you +think the Miss Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?" + +"Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!" + +"Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! +Why what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you +possibly find fault with?" + +"Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest--with Matilda. Shall I, William?" (I looked as cunning as +I could when I said it, in order to shame him). + +"They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the +faults of one, would be the faults of both." + +"Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!" + +"They are TALLER than you are indeed." (said he with a saucy +smile.) + +"Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that." + +"Well, but (he continued) tho' they may be above the common size, +their figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their +Eyes are beautifull." + +"I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the +least degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall +that I never could strain my neck enough to look at them." + +"Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right +in not attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with +their Lustre." + +"Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I +assure you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended +tho' by what followed, one would suppose that William was +conscious of having given me just cause to be so, for coming up +to me and taking my hand, he said) "You must not look so grave +Susan; you will make me fear I have offended you!" + +"Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your +head! (returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the +least surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty +of these girls "-- + +"Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet +concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find +with their complexion?" + +"They are so horridly pale." + +"They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened." + +"Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part +of the world, they will never be able raise more than their +common stock--except indeed they amuse themselves with running up +and Down these horrid old galleries and Antichambers." + +"Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they HAVE but little colour, at least, +it is all their own." + +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had +the impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality +of mine. But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever +you may hear it so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how +often I have protested against wearing Rouge, and how much I +always told you I disliked it. And I assure you that my opinions +are still the same.--. Well, not bearing to be so suspected by +my Brother, I left the room immediately, and have been ever since +in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a long letter have +I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such from me +when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one has +time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.--. I was so much +vexed by William's glance, that I could not summon Patience +enough, to stay and give him that advice respecting his +attachment to Matilda which had first induced me from pure Love +to him to begin the conversation; and I am now so thoroughly +convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, that I am +certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I shall +there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his +favourite. Adeiu my dear girl-- +Yrs affectionately +Susan L. + + + +LETTER the SEVENTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY +Bristol the 27th of March + +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within +this week which have greatly entertained me, as I find by them +that you are both downright jealous of each others Beauty. It is +very odd that two pretty Women tho' actually Mother and Daughter +cannot be in the same House without falling out about their +faces. Do be convinced that you are both perfectly handsome and +say no more of the Matter. I suppose this letter must be +directed to Portman Square where probably (great as is your +affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be sorry to find +yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields +and the Country I was always of opinion that London and its +amusements must be very agreable for a while, and should be very +happy could my Mother's income allow her to jockey us into its +Public-places, during Winter. I always longed particularly to go +to Vaux-hall, to see whether the cold Beef there is cut so thin +as it is reported, for I have a sly suspicion that few people +understand the art of cutting a slice of cold Beef so well as I +do: nay it would be hard if I did not know something of the +Matter, for it was a part of my Education that I took by far the +most pains with. Mama always found me HER best scholar, tho' +when Papa was alive Eloisa was HIS. Never to be sure were there +two more different Dispositions in the World. We both loved +Reading. SHE preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved +drawing, Pictures, and I drawing Pullets. No one could sing a +better song than she, and no one make a better Pye than I.-- And +so it has always continued since we have been no longer children. +The only difference is that all disputes on the superior +excellence of our Employments THEN so frequent are now no more. +We have for many years entered into an agreement always to admire +each other's works; I never fail listening to HER Music, and she +is as constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case +till Henry Hervey made his appearance in Sussex. Before the +arrival of his Aunt in our neighbourhood where she established +herself you know about a twelvemonth ago, his visits to her had +been at stated times, and of equal and settled Duration; but on +her removal to the Hall which is within a walk from our House, +they became both more frequent and longer. This as you may +suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs Diana who is a professed +enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum and +Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and Good- +breeding. Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour +that I have often heard her give such hints of it before his face +that had not Henry at such times been engaged in conversation +with Eloisa, they must have caught his Attention and have very +much distressed him. The alteration in my Sisters behaviour +which I have before hinted at, now took place. The Agreement we +had entered into of admiring each others productions she no +longer seemed to regard, and tho' I constantly applauded even +every Country-dance, she played, yet not even a pidgeon-pye of my +making could obtain from her a single word of approbation. This +was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; however, I was +as cool as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and concerted +a scheme of Revenge, I was determined to let her have her own way +and not even to make her a single reproach. My scheme was to +treat her as she treated me, and tho' she might even draw my own +Picture or play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever really +liked) not to say so much as "Thank you Eloisa;" tho' I had for +many years constantly hollowed whenever she played, BRAVO, +BRAVISSIMO, ENCORE, DA CAPO, ALLEGRETTO, CON EXPRESSIONE, and +POCO PRESTO with many other such outlandish words, all of them as +Eloisa told me expressive of my Admiration; and so indeed I +suppose they are, as I see some of them in every Page of every +Music book, being the sentiments I imagine of the composer. + +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say +success, for alas! my silence while she played seemed not in the +least to displease her; on the contrary she actually said to me +one day " Well Charlotte, I am very glad to find that you have at +last left off that ridiculous custom of applauding my Execution +on the Harpsichord till you made my head ake, and yourself +hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for keeping your +admiration to yourself." I never shall forget the very witty +answer I made to this speech. "Eloisa (said I) I beg you would +be quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in future, +for be assured that I shall always keep my admiration to myself +and my own pursuits and never extend it to yours." This was the +only very severe thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I +have often felt myself extremely satirical but it was the only +time I ever made my feelings public. + +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater +affection for each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of +your Brother for Miss Burton could not be so strong tho' it might +be more violent. You may imagine therefore how provoked my +Sister must have been to have him play her such a trick. Poor +girl! she still laments his Death with undiminished constancy, +notwithstanding he has been dead more than six weeks; but some +People mind such things more than others. The ill state of +Health into which his loss has thrown her makes her so weak, and +so unable to support the least exertion, that she has been in +tears all this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. +Marlowe who with her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave +Bristol this morning. I am sorry to have them go because they +are the only family with whom we have here any acquaintance, but +I never thought of crying; to be sure Eloisa and Mrs Marlowe have +always been more together than with me, and have therefore +contracted a kind of affection for each other, which does not +make Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The +Marlowes are going to Town; Cliveland accompanies them; as +neither Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you or Matilda may +have better Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, +Eloisa's spirits are so low that she is very averse to moving, +and yet is certainly by no means mended by her residence here. A +week or two will I hope determine our Measures--in the mean time +believe me and etc--and etc-- +Charlotte Lutterell. + + + +LETTER the EIGHTH +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE +Bristol April 4th + +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark +of your affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the +proposal you made me of our Corresponding; I assure you that it +will be a great releif to me to write to you and as long as my +Health and Spirits will allow me, you will find me a very +constant correspondent; I will not say an entertaining one, for +you know my situation suffciently not to be ignorant that in me +Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart too well not to +be sensible that it would be unnatural. You must not expect news +for we see no one with whom we are in the least acquainted, or in +whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from +hearing or inventing it.--You must expect from me nothing but +the melancholy effusions of a broken Heart which is ever +reverting to the Happiness it once enjoyed and which ill supports +its present wretchedness. The Possibility of being able to +write, to speak, to you of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, +and your goodness will not I know refuse to read what it will so +much releive my Heart to write. I once thought that to have what +is in general called a Freind (I mean one of my own sex to whom I +might speak with less reserve than to any other person) +independant of my sister would never be an object of my wishes, +but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by +two confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place +of one to me, and I hope you will not think me girlishly +romantic, when I say that to have some kind and compassionate +Freind who might listen to my sorrows without endeavouring to +console me was what I had for some time wished for, when our +acquaintance with you, the intimacy which followed it and the +particular affectionate attention you paid me almost from the +first, caused me to entertain the flattering Idea of those +attentions being improved on a closer acquaintance into a +Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you would be +the greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find +that such Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a +satisfaction which is now almost the only one I can ever +experience.--I feel myself so languid that I am sure were you +with me you would oblige me to leave off writing, and I cannot +give you a greater proof of my affection for you than by acting, +as I know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or Present. I +am my dear Emmas sincere freind +E. L. + + + +LETTER the NINTH +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL +Grosvenor Street, April 10th + +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I +cannot give a greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, +or of the Desire I feel that our Correspondence may be regular +and frequent than by setting you so good an example as I now do +in answering it before the end of the week--. But do not imagine +that I claim any merit in being so punctual; on the contrary I +assure you, that it is a far greater Gratification to me to write +to you, than to spend the Evening either at a Concert or a Ball. +Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my appearing at some of the Public +places every evening that I do not like to refuse him, but at the +same time so much wish to remain at Home, that independant of the +Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion of my Time to my +Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a letter to +write of spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you know +me well enough to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient +Inducement (if one is necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure +a Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters to +me, whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be +equally interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy +Indulgence of your own sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on +them to me, will only encourage and increase them, and that it +will be more prudent in you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet +knowing as I do what a soothing and melancholy Pleasure it must +afford you, I cannot prevail on myself to deny you so great an +Indulgence, and will only insist on your not expecting me to +encourage you in it, by my own letters; on the contrary I intend +to fill them with such lively Wit and enlivening Humour as shall +even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull countenance of +my Eloisa. + +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters +three freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public +since I have been here. I know you will be impatient to hear my +opinion of the Beauty of three Ladies of whom you have heard so +much. Now, as you are too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I +think I may venture to inform you that I like none of their faces +so well as I do your own. Yet they are all handsome--Lady Lesley +indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I beleive would in +general be said to have a finer face than her Ladyship, and yet +what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a little +Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which she +is superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself +as many admirers as the more regular features of Matilda, and +Margaret. I am sure you will agree with me in saying that they +can none of them be of a proper size for real Beauty, when you +know that two of them are taller and the other shorter than +ourselves. In spite of this Defect (or rather by reason of it) +there is something very noble and majestic in the figures of the +Miss Lesleys, and something agreably lively in the appearance of +their pretty little Mother-in-law. But tho' one may be majestic +and the other lively, yet the faces of neither possess that +Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her present languor is +so far from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother say +of us, if they knew all the fine things I have been saying to you +in this letter. It is very hard that a pretty woman is never to +be told she is so by any one of her own sex without that person's +being suspected to be either her determined Enemy, or her +professed Toad-eater. How much more amiable are women in that +particular! One man may say forty civil things to another +without our supposing that he is ever paid for it, and provided +he does his Duty by our sex, we care not how Polite he is to his +own. + +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, +Charlotte, my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery +of her Health and Spirits that can be offered by her affectionate +Freind +E. Marlowe. + +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers +in the witty way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly +increased when I assure you that I have been as entertaining as I +possibly could. + + + +LETTER the TENTH +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL +Portman Square April 13th + +MY DEAR CHARLOTTE +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived +safely in London after a Journey of seven Days; I had the +pleasure of finding your Letter here waiting my Arrival, for +which you have my grateful Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I every +day more regret the serene and tranquil Pleasures of the Castle +we have left, in exchange for the uncertain and unequal +Amusements of this vaunted City. Not that I will pretend to +assert that these uncertain and unequal Amusements are in the +least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy them +extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain +that every appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of +those unhappy Beings whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, +tho' it is out of my power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte +it is my sensibility for the sufferings of so many amiable young +Men, my Dislike of the extreme admiration I meet with, and my +aversion to being so celebrated both in Public, in Private, in +Papers, and in Printshops, that are the reasons why I cannot more +fully enjoy, the Amusements so various and pleasing of London. +How often have I wished that I possessed as little Personal +Beauty as you do; that my figure were as inelegant; my face as +unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as yours! But ah! what +little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I have had the +small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. + +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret +which has long disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is +of a kind to require the most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last +Monday se'night Matilda and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout +at the Honourable Mrs Kickabout's; we were escorted by Mr +Fitzgerald who is a very amiable young Man in the main, tho' +perhaps a little singular in his Taste--He is in love with +Matilda--. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the Lady of +the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when my +Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most +lovely of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with +another Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him, +I was certain that on him depended the future Happiness of my +Life. Imagine my surprise when he was introduced to me by the +name of Cleveland--I instantly recognised him as the Brother of +Mrs Marlowe, and the acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr +and Mrs M. were the gentleman and Lady who accompanied him. (You +do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) The elegant address of Mr +Cleveland, his polished Manners and Delightful Bow, at once +confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; but I can imagine +everything he would have said, had he opened his Mouth. I can +picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the Noble +sentiments, and elegant Language which would have shone so +conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The approach of +Sir James Gower (one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the +Discovery of any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation +we had never commenced, and by attracting my attention to +himself. But oh! how inferior are the accomplishments of Sir +James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! Sir James is one +of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost always of our +Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no +Cleveland--he is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe +fatigues me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome +Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in +the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as we are +going to Lady Flambeaus, who is I know intimate with the +Marlowes. Our party will be Lady Lesley, Matilda, Fitzgerald, +Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of Sir George, who is +almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune where art +thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes her +appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful +Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau's! +Yet I wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely +she must be sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her +little diminutive figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it +possible that she can not know how greatly superior an elegant +simplicity is to the most studied apparel? Would she but Present +them to Matilda and me, how greatly should we be obliged to her, +How becoming would Diamonds be on our fine majestic figures! And +how surprising it is that such an Idea should never have occurred +to HER. I am sure if I have reflected in this manner once, I +have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in them +such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother's +Jewels too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject +--let me entertain you with something more pleasing--Matilda had +a letter this morning from Lesley, by which we have the pleasure +of finding that he is at Naples has turned Roman-Catholic, +obtained one of the Pope's Bulls for annulling his 1st Marriage +and has since actually married a Neapolitan Lady of great Rank +and Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the same sort of +affair has befallen his first wife the worthless Louisa who is +likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon to be +married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished +merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have +quite forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very +good Neighbours. He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to +Italy and to bring him his little Louisa whom both her Mother, +Step-mother, and himself are equally desirous of beholding. As +to our accepting his invitation, it is at Present very uncertain; +Lady Lesley advises us to go without loss of time; Fitzgerald +offers to escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts of the +Propriety of such a scheme--she owns it would be very agreable. +I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father desires us not to +be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months both he and +Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending us. +Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego +the Amusements of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely +to see our Brother. "No (says the disagreable Woman) I have once +in my life been fool enough to travel I dont know how many +hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and I found it did not +answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am so foolish again."So says +her Ladyship, but Sir George still Perseveres in saying that +perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany us. +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. + + +* + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + +FROM THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH TO THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST + +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. + +* + +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this +work is inscribed with all due respect by +THE AUTHOR. + + +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + +HENRY the 4th + +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own +satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his +cousin and predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and +to retire for the rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he +happened to be murdered. It is to be supposed that Henry was +married, since he had certainly four sons, but it is not in my +power to inform the Reader who was his wife. Be this as it may, +he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his son the Prince of +Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the King made a +long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to Shakespear's +Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being thus +settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son +Henry who had previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. + + +HENRY the 5th + +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed +and amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never +thrashing Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was +burnt alive, but I forget what for. His Majesty then turned his +thoughts to France, where he went and fought the famous Battle of +Agincourt. He afterwards married the King's daughter Catherine, +a very agreable woman by Shakespear's account. In spite of all +this however he died, and was succeeded by his son Henry. + + +HENRY the 6th + +I cannot say much for this Monarch's sense. Nor would I if I +could, for he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about +the Wars between him and the Duke of York who was of the right +side; if you do not, you had better read some other History, for +I shall not be very diffuse in this, meaning by it only to vent +my spleen AGAINST, and shew my Hatred TO all those people whose +parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not to give +information. This King married Margaret of Anjou, a Woman whose +distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost to make me who +hate her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of Arc lived +and made such a ROW among the English. They should not have +burnt her --but they did. There were several Battles between the +Yorkists and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) +usually conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The +King was murdered--The Queen was sent home--and Edward the 4th +ascended the Throne. + + +EDWARD the 4th + +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of +which the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted +Behaviour in marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, +are sufficient proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow +who, poor Woman! was afterwards confined in a Convent by that +Monster of Iniquity and Avarice Henry the 7th. One of Edward's +Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has had a play written about her, +but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth reading. Having +performed all these noble actions, his Majesty died, and was +succeeded by his son. + + +EDWARD the 5th + +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had +him to draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle's +Contrivance, whose name was Richard the 3rd. + + +RICHARD the 3rd + +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely +treated by Historians, but as he was a YORK, I am rather inclined +to suppose him a very respectable Man. It has indeed been +confidently asserted that he killed his two Nephews and his Wife, +but it has also been declared that he did not kill his two +Nephews, which I am inclined to beleive true; and if this is the +case, it may also be affirmed that he did not kill his Wife, for +if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might not +Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether innocent or +guilty, he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E. of +Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss +about getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle +of Bosworth, he succeeded to it. + + +HENRY the 7th + +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess +Elizabeth of York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he +thought his own right inferior to hers, tho' he pretended to the +contrary. By this Marriage he had two sons and two daughters, +the elder of which Daughters was married to the King of Scotland +and had the happiness of being grandmother to one of the first +Characters in the World. But of HER, I shall have occasion to +speak more at large in future. The youngest, Mary, married first +the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk, by whom she +had one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, who +tho' inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an +amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other +people were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that +Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their +appearance, the former of whom was set in the stocks, took +shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was beheaded with the Earl of +Warwick, and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His +Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit +was his not being quite so bad as his daughter Elizabeth. + + +HENRY the 8th + +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they +were not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King's +reign as I am myself. It will therefore be saving THEM the task +of reading again what they have read before, and MYSELF the +trouble of writing what I do not perfectly recollect, by giving +only a slight sketch of the principal Events which marked his +reign. Among these may be ranked Cardinal Wolsey's telling the +father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that "he was come to lay his +bones among them," the reformation in Religion and the King's +riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is +however but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable +Woman was entirely innocent of the Crimes with which she was +accused, and of which her Beauty, her Elegance, and her +Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not to mention her solemn +Protestations of Innocence, the weakness of the Charges against +her, and the King's Character; all of which add some +confirmation, tho' perhaps but slight ones when in comparison +with those before alledged in her favour. Tho' I do not profess +giving many dates, yet as I think it proper to give some and +shall of course make choice of those which it is most necessary +for the Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her +letter to the King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and +Cruelties of this Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as +this history I trust has fully shown;) and nothing can be said in +his vindication, but that his abolishing Religious Houses and +leaving them to the ruinous depredations of time has been of +infinite use to the landscape of England in general, which +probably was a principal motive for his doing it, since otherwise +why should a Man who was of no Religion himself be at so much +trouble to abolish one which had for ages been established in the +Kingdom. His Majesty's 5th Wife was the Duke of Norfolk's Neice +who, tho' universally acquitted of the crimes for which she was +beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led an +abandoned life before her Marriage--of this however I have many +doubts, since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk +who was so warm in the Queen of Scotland's cause, and who at last +fell a victim to it. The Kings last wife contrived to survive +him, but with difficulty effected it. He was succeeded by his +only son Edward. + + +EDWARD the 6th + +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his +Father's death, he was considered by many people as too young to +govern, and the late King happening to be of the same opinion, +his mother's Brother the Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of +the realm during his minority. This Man was on the whole of a +very amiable Character, and is somewhat of a favourite with me, +tho' I would by no means pretend to affirm that he was equal to +those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or Gilpin. He +was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud, had +he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but +as it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had +never happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly +delighted with the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of +Northumberland had the care of the King and the Kingdom, and +performed his trust of both so well that the King died and the +Kingdom was left to his daughter in law the Lady Jane Grey, who +has been already mentioned as reading Greek. Whether she really +understood that language or whether such a study proceeded only +from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was always +rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, +she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of +what was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her +life, for she declared herself displeased with being appointed +Queen, and while conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence +in Latin and another in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her +Husband accidentally passing that way. + + +MARY + +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of +England, in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty +of her Cousins Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I +pity the Kingdom for the misfortunes they experienced during her +Reign, since they fully deserved them, for having allowed her to +succeed her Brother--which was a double peice of folly, since +they might have foreseen that as she died without children, she +would be succeeded by that disgrace to humanity, that pest of +society, Elizabeth. Many were the people who fell martyrs to the +protestant Religion during her reign; I suppose not fewer than a +dozen. She married Philip King of Spain who in her sister's +reign was famous for building Armadas. She died without issue, +and then the dreadful moment came in which the destroyer of all +comfort, the deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in her, and the +Murderess of her Cousin succeeded to the Throne.---- + + +ELIZABETH + +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad +Ministers---Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have +committed such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and +abandoned Men connived at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I +know that it has by many people been asserted and beleived that +Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the rest of those who +filled the cheif offices of State were deserving, experienced, +and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded such writers and such +Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised, neglected and +defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they reflect +that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their +Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in +confining for the space of nineteen years, a WOMAN who if the +claims of Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen +and as one who condescended to place confidence in her, had every +reason to expect assistance and protection; and at length in +allowing Elizabeth to bring this amiable Woman to an untimely, +unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can any one if he reflects but +for a moment on this blot, this everlasting blot upon their +understanding and their Character, allow any praise to Lord +Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this +bewitching Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of +Norfolk, and whose only ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs +Knight and myself, who was abandoned by her son, confined by her +Cousin, abused, reproached and vilified by all, what must not her +most noble mind have suffered when informed that Elizabeth had +given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it with a most unshaken +fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her Religion; and +prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she was doomed, +with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious +Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible +that some hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her +for that steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected +on her so much credit? But this is a striking proof of THEIR +narrow souls and prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was +executed in the Great Hall at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) +on Wednesday the 8th of February 1586--to the everlasting +Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of England in general. +It may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude my account +of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had been accused of +several crimes during the time of her reigning in Scotland, of +which I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she was +entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her +Heart, her Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this +assurance entirely done away every Suspicion and every doubt +which might have arisen in the Reader's mind, from what other +Historians have written of her, I shall proceed to mention the +remaining Events that marked Elizabeth's reign. It was about +this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator who +sailed round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his Country +and his profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated +as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in +this or the next Century by one who tho' now but young, already +promises to answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of +his Relations and Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable +Lady to whom this work is dedicated, and my no less amiable self. + +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different +sphere of Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an +Earl, as Drake was in that of a Sailor, was Robert Devereux Lord +Essex. This unfortunate young Man was not unlike in character to +that equally unfortunate one FREDERIC DELAMERE. The simile may +be carried still farther, and Elizabeth the torment of Essex may +be compared to the Emmeline of Delamere. It would be endless to +recount the misfortunes of this noble and gallant Earl. It is +sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after +having been Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, after having clapped his +hand on his sword, and after performing many other services to +his Country. Elizabeth did not long survive his loss, and died +so miserable that were it not an injury to the memory of Mary I +should pity her. + + +JAMES the 1st + +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most +principal, was his allowing his Mother's death, yet considered on +the whole I cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, +and had several Children; fortunately for him his eldest son +Prince Henry died before his father or he might have experienced +the evils which befell his unfortunate Brother. + +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with +infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any +Member of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an +Historian, I am necessitated to say that in this reign the roman +Catholics of England did not behave like Gentlemen to the +protestants. Their Behaviour indeed to the Royal Family and both +Houses of Parliament might justly be considered by them as very +uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho' certainly the best bred +man of the party, had none of that general politeness which is so +universally pleasing, as his attentions were entirely confined to +Lord Mounteagle. + +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, +and is by many people held in great veneration and respect--But +as he was an enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in +praise of him, and must refer all those who may wish to be +acquainted with the particulars of his life, to Mr Sheridan's +play of the Critic, where they will find many interesting +anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir Christopher +Hatton.--His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which +inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a +keener penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. +I once heard an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the +subject I am now on reminds me, and as I think it may afford my +Readers some amusement to FIND IT OUT, I shall here take the +liberty of presenting it to them. + +SHARADE +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you +tread on my whole. + +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was +afterwards created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may +have some share in the above mentioned Sharade, and George +Villiers afterwards Duke of Buckingham. On his Majesty's death +he was succeeded by his son Charles. + + +CHARLES the 1st + +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes +equal to those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he +could not deserve since he was her descendant. Never certainly +were there before so many detestable Characters at one time in +England as in this Period of its History; never were amiable men +so scarce. The number of them throughout the whole Kingdom +amounting only to FIVE, besides the inhabitants of Oxford who +were always loyal to their King and faithful to his interests. +The names of this noble five who never forgot the duty of the +subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, were as +follows--The King himself, ever stedfast in his own support +--Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the +cause. While the VILLIANS of the time would make too long a list +to be written or read; I shall therefore content myself with +mentioning the leaders of the Gang. Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, +and Pym may be considered as the original Causers of all the +disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which England for +many years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that of +Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch, +to consider them as equally guilty with the generality of the +English, since they dared to think differently from their +Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as STUARTS it was their +Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the +unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch's reign are too +numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except +what I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my principal reason +for undertaking the History of England being to Prove the +innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with +having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho' I am rather +fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme. +--As therefore it is not my intention to give any particular +account of the distresses into which this King was involved +through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall +satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of +Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he has often been +charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one +argument I am certain of satisfying every sensible and well +disposed person whose opinions have been properly guided by a +good Education--and this Argument is that he was a STUART. + +Finis +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. + + +* + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + +To Miss COOPER + +COUSIN +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and +every Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution +and Care I Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever +Collection of Curious Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, +Collected and Classed by your Comical Cousin + +The Author. + +* + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + +LETTER the FIRST +From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different +Manner from that in which they have been used to receive it, as +they are now arrived at that age when it is necessary for them in +some measure to become conversant with the World, My Augusta is +17 and her sister scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter +myself that their education has been such as will not disgrace +their appearance in the World, and that THEY will not disgrace +their Education I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they are +sweet Girls--. Sensible yet unaffected--Accomplished yet Easy--. +Lively yet Gentle--. As their progress in every thing they have +learnt has been always the same, I am willing to forget the +difference of age, and to introduce them together into Public. +This very Evening is fixed on as their first ENTREE into Life, as +we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad +that we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be +awkward for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very first +day. But we shall proceed by degrees.--Tomorrow Mr Stanly's +family will drink tea with us, and perhaps the Miss Phillips's +will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay Morning Visits--On +Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we have +Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at +Sir John Wynna's--and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call +in the Morning--which will complete my Daughters Introduction +into Life. How they will bear so much dissipation I cannot +imagine; of their spirits I have no fear, I only dread their +health. + +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls are OUT. As +the moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how +the sweet Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before +the Carriage drove to the door, I called them into my dressing- +room, and as soon as they were seated thus addressed them. "My +dear Girls the moment is now arrived when I am to reap the +rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours towards you during your +Education. You are this Evening to enter a World in which you +will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn you +against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the Follies +and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if +you do--I shall be very sorry for it." They both assured me +that they would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and +follow it with attention; That they were prepared to find a World +full of things to amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted +their behaviour would never give me reason to repent the Watchful +Care with which I had presided over their infancy and formed +their Minds--" "With such expectations and such intentions +(cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you--and can chearfully +conduct you to Mrs Cope's without a fear of your being seduced by +her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. Come, then my +Children (added I) the Carriage is driving to the door, and I +will not a moment delay the happiness you are so impatient to +enjoy." When we arrived at Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely +breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. "The long- +expected Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be in +the World."--In a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope's parlour, +where with her daughter she sate ready to receive us. I observed +with delight the impression my Children made on them--. They +were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho' somewhat +abashed from the peculiarity of their situation, yet there was an +ease in their Manners and address which could not fail of +pleasing--. Imagine my dear Madam how delighted I must have been +in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed every object +they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they +returned in raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and +Manners. +Yrs Ever--A. F. + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my +spirits? Why should I feel it more, why should it wound me +deeper than those I have experienced before? Can it be that I +have a greater affection for Willoughby than I had for his +amiable predecessors? Or is it that our feelings become more +acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my dear Belle +that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being more +sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen, +or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most +lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman's heart. Tell me then +dear Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, +or why I weep when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the +case--. My Freinds are all alarmed for me; They fear my +declining health; they lament my want of spirits; they dread the +effects of both. In hopes of releiving my melancholy, by +directing my thoughts to other objects, they have invited several +of their freinds to spend the Christmas with us. Lady Bridget +Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected on Friday; +and Colonel Seaton's family will be with us next week. This is +all most kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the +presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and +distress me--. I will not finish my Letter till some of our +Visitors are arrived. + +Friday Evening +Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet sister +Miss Jane--. Although I have been acquainted with this charming +Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely +she is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow +and Time is more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was +delighted with her, the moment she entered the house, and she +appeared equally pleased with me, attaching herself to me during +the remainder of the day. There is something so sweet, so mild in +her Countenance, that she seems more than Mortal. Her +Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I could not help +telling her how much she engaged my admiration--. "Oh! Miss +Jane (said I)--and stopped from an inability at the moment of +expressing myself as I could wish-- Oh! Miss Jane--(I repeated) +--I could not think of words to suit my feelings-- She seemed +waiting for my speech--. I was confused-- distressed--my +thoughts were bewildered--and I could only add--"How do you do?" +She saw and felt for my Embarrassment and with admirable presence +of mind releived me from it by saying--"My dear Sophia be not +uneasy at having exposed yourself--I will turn the Conversation +without appearing to notice it. "Oh! how I loved her for her +kindness!" Do you ride as much as you used to do?" said she--. +"I am advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides +round us, I have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the +Amusement, replied I quite recovered from my Confusion, and in +short I ride a great deal." "You are in the right my Love," said +she. Then repeating the following line which was an extempore +and equally adapted to recommend both Riding and Candour-- + +"Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can," she added," I rode +once, but it is many years ago--She spoke this in so low and +tremulous a Voice, that I was silent--. Struck with her Manner of +speaking I could make no reply. "I have not ridden, continued she +fixing her Eyes on my face, since I was married." I was never so +surprised--"Married, Ma'am!" I repeated. "You may well wear that +look of astonishment, said she, since what I have said must +appear improbable to you--Yet nothing is more true than that I +once was married." + +"Then why are you called Miss Jane?" + +"I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my +father the late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to +keep the secret from him and from every one, till some fortunate +opportunity might offer of revealing it--. Such an opportunity +alas! was but too soon given in the death of my dear Capt. +Dashwood--Pardon these tears, continued Miss Jane wiping her +Eyes, I owe them to my Husband's memory. He fell my Sophia, +while fighting for his Country in America after a most happy +Union of seven years--. My Children, two sweet Boys and a Girl, +who had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with +him and with every one as the Children of a Brother (tho' I had +ever been an only Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. +But no sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures +fell sick and died--. Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must +have been when as an Aunt I attended my Children to their early +Grave--. My Father did not survive them many weeks--He died, +poor Good old man, happily ignorant to his last hour of my +Marriage.' + +"But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband's +death?" + +"No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in +my Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, +and yourself are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my +having ever been either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on +myself to take the name of Dashwood (a name which after my +Henry's death I could never hear without emotion) and as I was +conscious of having no right to that of Annesley, I dropt all +thoughts of either, and have made it a point of bearing only my +Christian one since my Father's death." She paused--"Oh! my dear +Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so +entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted me! +But have you quite done?" + +"I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry's elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like +myself, and as we had always loved each other in idea from the +high Character in which we had ever been spoken of, though we had +never met, we determined to live together. We wrote to one +another on the same subject by the same post, so exactly did our +feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly embraced the +proposals we gave and received of becoming one family, and have +from that time lived together in the greatest affection." + +"And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done." + +"Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?" + +"I never did--and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, +for when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one's +sensations as to hear of equal misery." + +"Ah! but my Sophia why are YOU unhappy?" + +"Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby's Marriage?" + +"But my love why lament HIS perfidy, when you bore so well that +of many young Men before?" + +"Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year." + +"Poor Girl!" said Miss Jane. + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. +As my Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady +Greville who did me the honour of calling for me in her way and +of allowing me to sit forwards, which is a favour about which I +am very indifferent especially as I know it is considered as +confering a great obligation on me "So Miss Maria (said her +Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the Carriage) you +seem very smart to night-- MY poor Girls will appear quite to +disadvantage by YOU-- I only hope your Mother may not have +distressed herself to set YOU off. Have you got a new Gown on?" + +"Yes Ma'am." replied I with as much indifference as I could +assume. + +"Aye, and a fine one too I think--(feeling it, as by her +permission I seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very +smart--But I must own, for you know I always speak my mind, that +I think it was quite a needless piece of expence--Why could not +you have worn your old striped one? It is not my way to find +fault with People because they are poor, for I always think that +they are more to be despised and pitied than blamed for it, +especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time I must +say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been +quite fine enough for its Wearer--for to tell you the truth (I +always speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the +people in the room will not know whether you have a Gown on or +not--But I suppose you intend to make your fortune to night--. +Well, the sooner the better; and I wish you success." + +"Indeed Ma'am I have no such intention--" + +"Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?" +Miss Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. + +"Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?" said her +Ladyship. + +"Dear Ma'am, said Ellen it is but nine o'clock." + +"True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise +to be extravagant." + +"She was just sitting down to supper Ma'am." + +"And what had she got for supper?" "I did not observe." "Bread +and Cheese I suppose." "I should never wish for a better +supper." said Ellen. "You have never any reason replied her +Mother, as a better is always provided for you." Miss Greville +laughed excessively, as she constantly does at her Mother's wit. + +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear +while riding in her Ladyship's Coach--I dare not be impertinent, +as my Mother is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if +I wish to make my way in the world. She insists on my accepting +every invitation of Lady Greville, or you may be certain that I +would never enter either her House, or her Coach with the +disagreable certainty I always have of being abused for my +Poverty while I am in them.--When we arrived at Ashburnham, it +was nearly ten o'clock, which was an hour and a half later than +we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too fashionable +(or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing +however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had +not been long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr +Bernard, but just as we were going to stand up, he recollected +that his Servant had got his white Gloves, and immediately ran +out to fetch them. In the mean time the Dancing began and Lady +Greville in passing to another room went exactly before me--She +saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though there were +several people close to us, + +"Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young +Lady! I am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do +not despair; perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is +over." So saying, she passed on without hearing my repeated +assurance of being engaged, and leaving me very much provoked at +being so exposed before every one--Mr Bernard however soon +returned and by coming to me the moment he entered the room, and +leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared from +the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all +the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my +vexations in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most +agreable partner in the room. As he is moreover heir to a very +large Estate I could see that Lady Greville did not look very +well pleased when she found who had been his Choice--She was +determined to mortify me, and accordingly when we were sitting +down between the dances, she came to me with more than her usual +insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said loud enough +to be heard by half the people in the room, "Pray Miss Maria in +what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I +cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder." I saw that +she wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to +Prevent her seeing that her scheme succeeded. "Neither Madam; he +was a Wine Merchant." "Aye, I knew he was in some such low way-- +He broke did not he?" "I beleive not Ma'am." "Did not he +abscond?" "I never heard that he did." "At least he died +insolvent?" "I was never told so before." "Why, was not your +FATHER as poor as a Rat" "I fancy not." "Was not he in the +Kings Bench once?" "I never saw him there." She gave me SUCH a +look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half +delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of +being thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry +with me, she took no further notice of me all the Evening, and +indeed had I been in favour I should have been equally neglected, +as she was got into a Party of great folks and she never speaks +to me when she can to anyone else. Miss Greville was with her +Mother's party at supper, but Ellen preferred staying with the +Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady G-- +slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable ride. + +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville's Coach +stopped at the door, for that is the time of day she generally +contrives it should. She sent in a message by the servant to say +that "she should not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the +Coach-door, as she wanted to speak to her, and that she must make +haste and come immediately--" "What an impertinent Message Mama!" +said I--"Go Maria--" replied she--Accordingly I went and was +obliged to stand there at her Ladyships pleasure though the Wind +was extremely high and very cold. + +"Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were +last night--But I did not come to examine your dress, but to +tell you that you may dine with us the day after tomorrow--Not +tomorrow, remember, do not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and +Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas Stanley's family--There will be no +occasion for your being very fine for I shant send the Carriage-- +If it rains you may take an umbrella--" I could hardly help +laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself dry--"And +pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait--I hate my Victuals +over-done--But you need not come before the time--How does your +Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?" "Yes Ma'am we were in +the middle of dinner when your Ladyship came." "I am afraid you +find it very cold Maria." said Ellen. "Yes, it is an horrible +East wind --said her Mother--I assure you I can hardly bear the +window down--But you are used to be blown about by the wind Miss +Maria and that is what has made your Complexion so rudely and +coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride in a Carriage +never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind shews your +legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do in +such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings +either of cold or Delicacy--Well, remember that we shall expect +you on Thursday at 5 o'clock--You must tell your Maid to come +for you at night--There will be no Moon--and you will have an +horrid walk home--My compts to Your Mother--I am afraid your +dinner will be cold--Drive on--" And away she went, leaving me in +a great passion with her as she always does. +Maria Williams. + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a +very agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased +with her appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, +her manner and voice had something peculiarly interesting in +them. So much so, that they inspired me with a great curiosity +to know the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she +came from, and what had befallen her, for it was then only known +that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, and that her name was +Grenville. In the evening a favourable opportunity offered to me +of attempting at least to know what I wished to know, for every +one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr Drayton, Miss +Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a +whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of +necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I +wished and being determined not to remain in ignorance for want +of asking, I began the Conversation in the following Manner. + +"Have you been long in Essex Ma'am?" + +"I arrived on Tuesday." + +"You came from Derbyshire?" + +"No, Ma'am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk." +You will think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you +know that I am not wanting for Impudence when I have any end in +veiw. "Are you pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you +find it equal to the one you have left?" + +"Much superior Ma'am in point of Beauty." She sighed. I longed to +know for why. + +"But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but +a poor consolation for the loss of one's dearest Freinds." She +shook her head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My +Curiosity was so much raised, that I was resolved at any rate to +satisfy it. + +"You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?" "Indeed I +do." "You were born there I suppose?" "Yes Ma'am I was and +passed many happy years there--" + +"That is a great comfort--said I--I hope Ma'am that you never +spent any unhappy one's there." + +"Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has +a right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.--Some Misfortunes I +have certainly met with." + +"WHAT Misfortunes dear Ma'am? replied I, burning with impatience +to know every thing. "NONE Ma'am I hope that have been the +effect of any wilfull fault in me." " I dare say not Ma'am, and +have no doubt but that any sufferings you may have experienced +could arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors of +Freinds." She sighed--"You seem unhappy my dear Miss Grenville +--Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?" "YOUR power +Ma'am replied she extremely surprised; it is in NO ONES power to +make me happy." She pronounced these words in so mournfull and +solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. +I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few +moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, "My +dear Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young--and may +probably stand in need of some one's advice whose regard for you, +joined to superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might +authorise her to give it. I am that person, and I now challenge +you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and +Freindship, in return to which I shall only ask for yours--" + +"You are extremely obliging Ma'am--said she--and I am highly +flattered by your attention to me--But I am in no difficulty, no +doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be +wanted. Whenever I am however continued she brightening into a +complaisant smile, I shall know where to apply." + +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still +however I had not given up my point. I found that by the +appearance of sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained +and determined therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and +suppositions. "Do you intend staying long in this part of +England Miss Grenville?" + +"Yes Ma'am, some time I beleive." + +"But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?" + +"They are neither of them alive Ma'am." +This was an answer I did not expect--I was quite silenced, and +never felt so awkward in my Life---. + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in +love every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of +the year! I had this morning the happiness of receiving the +following Letter from my dear Musgrove. + +Sackville St: Janry 7th +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, +and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner +becoming the day--by writing to her. Never shall I forget the +moment when her Beauties first broke on my sight--No time as you +well know can erase it from my Memory. It was at Lady +Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live within a mile of the +divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first entered the +room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was like +the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started--I gazed at her +with admiration --She appeared every moment more Charming, and +the unfortunate Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I +had time to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of +adoring you, an happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. +"What said he to himself is Musgrove allowed to die for +Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine for her who is the +object of universal admiration, who is adored by a Colonel, and +toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you are! +I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You +are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the +prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life--and her Beauty is encreased +in her Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing +me to hope. And ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness +how ardently I do hope for the death of your villanous Uncle and +his abandoned Wife, since my fair one will not consent to be mine +till their decease has placed her in affluence above what my +fortune can procure--. Though it is an improvable Estate--. +Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I am at Present +with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house which +tho' an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is +ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell--Of +that Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent +Admirer and devoted humble servt. +T. Musgrove. + +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read +such a master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such +purity of Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love +in one sheet? No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is +not to be met with by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with +him! I intend to send him the following in answer to his Letter +tomorrow. + +My dearest Musgrove--. Words cannot express how happy your +Letter made me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love +you better than any body in the World. I think you the most +amiable, and the handsomest Man in England, and so to be sure you +are. I never read so sweet a Letter in my Life. Do write me +another just like it, and tell me you are in love with me in +every other line. I quite die to see you. How shall we manage +to see one another? for we are so much in love that we cannot +live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how +impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt--If they +will not Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in +love with you every day of my Life. + +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in +her house, and how happy every body in London must be because you +are there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again +soon, for I never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my +dearest Musgrove most truly and faithfully yours for ever and +ever +Henrietta Halton. + +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write +though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he +was at a Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at +Lady Scudamores--And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked +me how I liked her Cousin Musgrove? + +"Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young +Man." + +"I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in +love with you." + +"Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?" + +"Nay, t'is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in +love with you from the first moment he beheld you." + +"I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love +I would give a farthing for--There is some sense in being in love +at first sight." + +"Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, +and I beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it +is not a contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young +fellow, has seen a great deal of the World, and writes the best +Love-letters I ever read." + +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my +conquest. However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few +Airs--so I said to her-- + +"This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we +young Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon +Men who have no fortune at all." + +"My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as +you can be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person +to encourage your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to +expect a fortune with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being +poor that he has an estate of several hundreds an year which is +capable of great Improvement, and an excellent House, though at +Present it is not quite in repair." + +"If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say +against him, and if as you say he is an informed young Man and +can write a good Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find +fault with him for admiring me, tho' perhaps I may not marry him +for all that Lady Scudamore." + +"You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for +if I am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown +to yourself, cherishing a most tender affection for him." + +"Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such +a thing?" + +"Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my +dear Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me +--Do not you prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?" + +"Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning +away my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them." + +"Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why +refuse to confide in me?" + +"I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not +refuse to confide in you or blush to say that I do love your +cousin Mr Musgrove, that I am sincerely attached to him, for it +is no disgrace to love a handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I +might have had reason to be ashamed of a passion which must have +been mean since the object would have been unworthy. But with +such a figure and face, and such beautiful hair as your Cousin +has, why should I blush to own that such superior merit has made +an impression on me." + +"My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great +affection) what a delicate way of thinking you have in these +matters, and what a quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! +how I honour you for such Noble Sentiments!" + +"Do you Ma'am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady +Scudamore did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for +me I shall like him the better if he did, for what is a Lover +without a Confidante?" + +"Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every +word you say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are +actuated by the invisible power of simpathy, for your opinions +and sentiments so exactly coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair +is not very different. Yes my dear Girl, the poor despairing +Musgrove did reveal to me the story of his Love--. Nor was I +surprised at it--I know not how it was, but I had a kind of +presentiment that he would be in love with you." + +"Well, but how did he break it to you?" + +"It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire +together talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth +the Conversation was cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and +silent, when on a sudden he interrupted me in the midst of +something I was saying, by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone-- + +Yes I'm in love I feel it now +And Henrietta Halton has undone me + +"Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To +make such a couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is +that they are not in rhime!" + +"I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a +great deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? +said I. I am very sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are +in every respect, with a pretty Estate capable of Great +improvements, and an excellent House tho' somewhat out of repair, +yet who can hope to aspire with success to the adorable Henrietta +who has had an offer from a Colonel and been toasted by a +Baronet"--"THAT I have--" cried I. Lady Scudamore continued. +"Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced of the little +Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, that +I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet +surely neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the +exquisite Gratification of dieing for her, of falling a victim to +her Charms. And when I am dead"--continued her-- + +"Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet +Creature should talk of dieing!" + +"It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore." +"When I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, +and perhaps she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor +remains." + +"Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it." + +"Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I +would not for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent." + +"Pray go on." said I. She did so. + +"And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will +be when I feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who +would not die to haste such extacy! And when I am interred, may +the divine Henrietta bless some happier Youth with her affection, +May he be as tenderly attached to her as the hapless Musgrove and +while HE crumbles to dust, May they live an example of Felicity +in the Conjugal state!" + +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, +to be lain at my feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind +he must have to be capable of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went +on. + +"Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as +this, must melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may +naturally be; and could the divine Henrietta but hear your +generous wishes for her happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I +have not a doubt but that she would pity your affection and +endeavour to return it." "Oh! Cousin answered he, do not +endeavour to raise my hopes by such flattering assurances. No, I +cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and the only thing +which remains for me to do, is to die." "True Love is ever +desponding replied I, but I my dear Tom will give you even +greater hopes of conquering this fair one's heart, than I have +yet given you, by assuring you that I watched her with the +strictest attention during the whole day, and could plainly +discover that she cherishes in her bosom though unknown to +herself, a most tender affection for you." + +"Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!" + +"Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, +continued I to him, encourage you by saying this at first, that +surprise might render the pleasure still Greater." "No Cousin +replied he in a languid voice, nothing will convince me that I +can have touched the heart of Henrietta Halton, and if you are +deceived yourself, do not attempt deceiving me." "In short my +Love it was the work of some hours for me to Persuade the poor +despairing Youth that you had really a preference for him; but +when at last he could no longer deny the force of my arguments, +or discredit what I told him, his transports, his Raptures, his +Extacies are beyond my power to describe." + +"Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! +But dear Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally +dependant on my Uncle and Aunt?" + +"Yes, I told him every thing." + +"And what did he say." + +"He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused +the laws of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates +when wanted by their Nephews or Neices, and wished HE were in the +House of Commons, that he might reform the Legislature, and +rectify all its abuses." + +"Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!" said I. + +"He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable +Henrietta would condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries +and that splendor to which she had been used, and accept only in +exchange the Comforts and Elegancies which his limited Income +could afford her, even supposing that his house were in Readiness +to receive her. I told him that it could not be expected that +she would; it would be doing her an injustice to suppose her +capable of giving up the power she now possesses and so nobly +uses of doing such extensive Good to the poorer part of her +fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you and +herself." + +"To be sure said I, I AM very Charitable every now and then. And +what did Mr Musgrove say to this?" + +"He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning +the truth of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the +happy Creature destined to be the Husband of the Beautiful +Henrietta he must bring himself to wait, however impatiently, for +the fortunate day, when she might be freed from the power of +worthless Relations and able to bestow herself on him." + +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I +am, who am to be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and +make the pies, so adeiu my dear freind, and beleive me yours etc-- +H. Halton. + +Finis. + + + +* + +SCRAPS + + +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN + +MY Dear Neice +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and +Steventon from superintending your Education myself, the care of +which will probably on that account devolve on your Father and +Mother, I think it is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling +as much as possible the want of my personal instructions, by +addressing to you on paper my Opinions and Admonitions on the +conduct of Young Women, which you will find expressed in the +following pages.-- +I am my dear Neice +Your affectionate Aunt +The Author. + + + +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + +A LETTER + +My Dear Louisa +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to +Bath, whither he is going for his health; two of his daughters +were with him, but the eldest and the three Boys are with their +Mother in Sussex. Though you have often told me that Miss Millar +was remarkably handsome, you never mentioned anything of her +Sisters' beauty; yet they are certainly extremely pretty. I'll +give you their description.--Julia is eighteen; with a +countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dignity are happily +blended, she has a form which at once presents you with Grace, +Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter +than her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy +dignity of Julia's, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a +different way as estimable. She is fair and her face is +expressive sometimes of softness the most bewitching, and at +others of Vivacity the most striking. She appears to have +infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her conversation +during the half hour they set with us, was replete with humourous +sallies, Bonmots and repartees; while the sensible, the amiable +Julia uttered sentiments of Morality worthy of a heart like her +own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I had always +received of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that +social Shake, and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at +beholding an old and valued freind from whom thro' various +circumstances he had been separated nearly twenty years. Mr +Millar observed (and very justly too) that many events had +befallen each during that interval of time, which gave occasion +to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections on the +many changes in their situation which so long a period had +occasioned, on the advantages of some, and the disadvantages of +others. From this subject she made a short digression to the +instability of human pleasures and the uncertainty of their +duration, which led her to observe that all earthly Joys must be +imperfect. She was proceeding to illustrate this doctrine by +examples from the Lives of great Men when the Carriage came to +the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father and Sister was +obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending five or +six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, +and I assure you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by +all. "Louisa Clarke (said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, +yet sometimes her good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and +Spite. She neither wants Understanding or is without some +pretensions to Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the +value she sets on her personal charms, and the adoration she +expects them to be offered are at once a striking example of her +vanity, her pride, and her folly." So said I, and to my opinion +everyone added weight by the concurrence of their own. +Your affectionate +Arabella Smythe. + + + +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + +CHARACTERS +Popgun Maria +Charles Pistolletta +Postilion Hostess +Chorus of ploughboys Cook + and and +Strephon Chloe + +SCENE--AN INN + +ENTER Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. + +Hostess to Maria) If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, +shew them number 9. + +Maria) Yes Mistress.-- EXIT Maria + +Hostess to Cook) If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of +fare, give it them. + +Cook) I wull, I wull. EXIT Cook. + +Hostess to Charles) If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their +Bell--answerit. + +Charles) Yes Madam. EXEUNT Severally. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta. + +Pistoletta) Pray papa how far is it to London? + +Popgun) My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who +art the picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with +whom I am going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean +to bequeath my whole Estate, it wants seven Miles. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE SUN-- + +ENTER Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. + +Chloe) Where am I? At Hounslow.--Where go I? To London--. What +to do? To be married--. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? +A Youth. Then I will sing a song. + +SONG +I go to Town +And when I come down, +I shall be married to Streephon* [*Note the two e's] +And that to me will be fun. + +Chorus) Be fun, be fun, be fun, +And that to me will be fun. + +ENTER Cook-- +Cook) Here is the bill of fare. + +Chloe reads) 2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a +tart.--I will have the leg of beef and the partridge. EXIT Cook. +And now I will sing another song. + +SONG-- +I am going to have my dinner, +After which I shan't be thinner, +I wish I had here Strephon +For he would carve the partridge if it should +be a tough one. + +Chorus) +Tough one, tough one, tough one +For he would carve the partridge if it +Should be a tough one. +EXIT Chloe and Chorus.-- + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE LION. + +Enter Strephon and Postilion. +Streph:) You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I +mean to go to Town to marry Chloe. How much is your due? + +Post:) Eighteen pence. +Streph:) Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I +mean to support myself in Town. But I will pawn to you an +undirected Letter that I received from Chloe. + +Post:) Sir, I accept your offer. + +END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for +her Judgement led her into the commission of Errors which her +Heart disapproved. + +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my +beloved Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel for their +bitterness is that on a close examination of my conduct, I am +convinced that I have strictly deserved them. I murdered my +father at a very early period of my Life, I have since murdered +my Mother, and I am now going to murder my Sister. I have +changed my religion so often that at present I have not an idea +of any left. I have been a perjured witness in every public tryal +for these last twelve years; and I have forged my own Will. In +short there is scarcely a crime that I have not committed--But I +am now going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse guards has +paid his Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. +As there is something singular in our Courtship, I will give you +an account of it. Colonel Martin is the second son of the late +Sir John Martin who died immensely rich, but bequeathing only one +hundred thousand pound apeice to his three younger Children, left +the bulk of his fortune, about eight Million to the present Sir +Thomas. Upon his small pittance the Colonel lived tolerably +contented for nearly four months when he took it into his head to +determine on getting the whole of his eldest Brother's Estate. A +new will was forged and the Colonel produced it in Court--but +nobody would swear to it's being the right will except himself, +and he had sworn so much that Nobody beleived him. At that moment +I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, and was +beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady +ready to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised +him to apply to me. In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The +Colonel and I swore to its' being the right will, and Sir Thomas +has been obliged to resign all his illgotten wealth. The Colonel +in gratitude waited on me the next day with an offer of his hand +--. I am now going to murder my Sister. +Yours Ever, +Anna Parker. + + +
+A TOUR THROUGH WALES-- +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY-- + +My Dear Clara +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it +in my power to thank you for your Letter--. We left our dear home +on last Monday month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, +which is a principality contiguous to England and gives the title +to the Prince of Wales. We travelled on horseback by preference. +My Mother rode upon our little poney and Fanny and I walked by +her side or rather ran, for my Mother is so fond of riding fast +that she galloped all the way. You may be sure that we were in a +fine perspiration when we came to our place of resting. Fanny has +taken a great many Drawings of the Country, which are very +beautiful, tho' perhaps not such exact resemblances as might be +wished, from their being taken as she ran along. It would +astonish you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We +determined to take a good Stock with us and therefore each took a +pair of our own besides those we set off in. However we were +obliged to have them both capped and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, +and at last when they were quite gone, Mama was so kind as to +lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which we each took one +and hopped home from Hereford delightfully--- +I am your ever affectionate +Elizabeth Johnson. + + + + +A TALE. + +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small +Cottage in Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action +was suggested to him by his elder Brother who promised to furnish +two rooms and a Closet for him, provided he would take a small +house near the borders of an extensive Forest, and about three +Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus gladly accepted the offer and +continued for some time searching after such a retreat when he +was one morning agreably releived from his suspence by reading +this advertisement in a Newspaper. + +TO BE LETT +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about +three Miles from the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms +and a Closet. + +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, +and shewed him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and +sent him in his Carriage to take possession of the Cottage. +After travelling for three days and six nights without stopping, +they arrived at the Forest and following a track which led by +it's side down a steep Hill over which ten Rivulets meandered, +they reached the Cottage in half an hour. Wilhelminus alighted, +and after knocking for some time without receiving any answer or +hearing any one stir within, he opened the door which was +fastened only by a wooden latch and entered a small room, which +he immediately perceived to be one of the two that were +unfurnished--From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally +bare. A pair of stairs that went out of it led him into a room +above, no less destitute, and these apartments he found composed +the whole of the House. He was by no means displeased with this +discovery, as he had the comfort of reflecting that he should not +be obliged to lay out anything on furniture himself--. He +returned immediately to his Brother, who took him the next day to +every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was requisite to furnish +the two rooms and the Closet, In a few days everything was +completed, and Wilhelminus returned to take possession of his +Cottage. Robertus accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable +Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and Marina to whom +Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of +Attendants.--An ordinary Genius might probably have been +embarrassed, in endeavouring to accomodate so large a party, but +Wilhelminus with admirable presence of mind gave orders for the +immediate erection of two noble Tents in an open spot in the +Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was both +simple and elegant--A couple of old blankets, each supported by +four sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture +and that happy ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of +Wilhelminus's most striking Virtues. + + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Jane Austen's +Love and Freindship and Other Early Works. + diff --git a/old/old/lvfnd10.zip b/old/old/lvfnd10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..390f6af --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/lvfnd10.zip diff --git a/old/old/old-2024-08-13/1212-0.txt b/old/old/old-2024-08-13/1212-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6346400 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/old-2024-08-13/1212-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4093 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Love And Freindship And Other Early Works, by Jane Austen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Love And Freindship And Other Early Works + +Author: Jane Austen + +Release Date: February, 1998 [eBook #1212] +[Most recently updated: September 24, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE AND FREINDSHIP *** + + + + +LOVE & FREINDSHIP +AND +OTHER EARLY WORKS + +A Collection of Juvenile Writings + +By Jane Austen + + +CONTENTS + + LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA + LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL + LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE + LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE + LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + LETTER the 9th From the same to the same + LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation + LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation + LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation. + + AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + LESLEY CASTLE + LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. + LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL + LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE + LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL + LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + To Miss COOPER + LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + + THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + + THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + + A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong + A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— + + A TALE. + + + + +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP + + +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER +OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR. + + +“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.” + + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From ISABEL to LAURA + + +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my +Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your +Life, have you said “No, my freind never will I comply with your +request till I may be no longer in Danger of again experiencing such +dreadful ones.” + +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may +ever be said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of +disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, +surely it must be at such a time of Life. + +Isabel + + + + +LETTER 2nd +LAURA to ISABEL + + +Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already +experienced, yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I +will gratify the curiosity of your daughter; and may the fortitude with +which I have suffered the many afflictions of my past Life, prove to +her a useful lesson for the support of those which may befall her in +her own. + +Laura + + + + +LETTER 3rd +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited +me to give you. + +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother +was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I +was born in Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. + +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to +my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most +romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably +softened and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I +was once beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were +the least of my Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my +sex, I was Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always +exceeded my instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my +age, and I had shortly surpassed my Masters. + +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. + +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, +my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my +only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ +indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they +ever did, yet now I never feel for those of an other. My +accomplishments too, begin to fade—I can neither sing so well nor Dance +so gracefully as I once did—and I have entirely forgot the _Minuet Dela +Cour_. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 4th +Laura to MARIANNE + + +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She +may probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in +indigent Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical +motives. There it was our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then +one and twenty. Tho’ pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between +ourselves) she never possessed the hundredth part of my Beauty or +Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at +one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in +Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. + +“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities +and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the +unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.” + +“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be +exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the +Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of +Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an +humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske.” + +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble +Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 5th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were +arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden +greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the outward door +of our rustic Cot. + +My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It sounds like a +loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) “it does indeed.” (cried +I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it certainly does appear to +proceed from some uncommon violence exerted against our unoffending +door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help thinking it must be somebody +who knocks for admittance.” + +“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine +on what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone _does_ rap at the +door, I am partly convinced.” + +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and +somewhat alarmed my Mother and me. + +“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added my Father) by +all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my Mother,) “The sooner the +better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no time be lost” (cried I.) + +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) “I +think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the servants are +returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” “I’m glad of +it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it is.” + +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, +informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, +who had lossed their way, were very cold and begged leave to warm +themselves by our fire. + +“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no objection, my Dear?” +(said my Father.) “None in the World.” (replied my Mother.) + +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the +room and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable +Youth, I had ever beheld. The servant she kept to herself. + +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the +sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold +him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life +must depend. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 6th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us +that he was the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for +many years no more and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My +Father (he continued) is a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such +particular freinds as this Dear Party that I would thus betray his +failings. Your Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my +father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to +repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. “My Father seduced by the +false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, insisted on my +giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is +lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, that I +scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it +be said that I obliged my Father.” + +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. + +“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with +so spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of +wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have +been studying Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have +been beneath my dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful +William set forth for my Aunts.” + +“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in Middlesex, +and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to +have reached my Aunts.” + +“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without +knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the +bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a +single star was there to direct my steps, and I know not what might +have befallen me had I not at length discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom +that surrounded me a distant light, which as I approached it, I +discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. Impelled by the +combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold +and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have +gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when +may I hope to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have +undergone during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have +ever aspired. Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?” + +“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 7th +LAURA to MARIANNE + + +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. +After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my +Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa +received us both with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival +was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as she had not only been +totally ignorant of my Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had +the slightest idea of there being such a person in the World. + +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I +found her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the +middle size. She received me with equal surprise though not with equal +Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and +Forbidding Reserve in her reception of me which was equally distressing +and Unexpected. None of that interesting Sensibility or amiable +simpathy in her manners and Address to me when we first met which +should have distinguished our introduction to each other. Her Language +was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were +neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to +her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine. + +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I +accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me +that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love than for +the endearing intercourse of Freindship. + +“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.) + +“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion +of me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to +consider my Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of +Consequence or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you +ever know me consult his inclinations or follow his Advice in the least +trifling Particular since the age of fifteen?” + +“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years +old, I entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the +satisfaction of your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions +of your being shortly obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by +seeking a support for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” + +“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?” + +“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” (answered +she.) + +“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for +an exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?” + +“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta). + +“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and +corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of +living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of +your tenderest affection?” + +“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however +you may in time be convinced that...” + +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the +Room at the Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her +announced by the Name of “Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post +and followed her into the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was +the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting +Baronet. + +Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, yet +I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. + +I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and tho’ +Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. + +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, +confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide +in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne +that I could not feel any ardent affection or very sincere Attachment +for Lady Dorothea. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 8th +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation + + +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected +a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed +by Augusta of her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him +for having dared to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But +Edward foreseeing his design, approached him with heroic fortitude as +soon as he entered the Room, and addressed him in the following Manner. + +“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with the +base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of +my Father!” + +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta +were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led +me from the Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the +Door and in which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir +Edward. + +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London +road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them +to Drive to M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was +but a few miles distant. + +At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After +having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for +such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most +truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most +elegantly formed. A soft languor spread over her lovely features, but +increased their Beauty—. It was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She +was all sensibility and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and +after having exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our +Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our +Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by the +entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just returned from a +solitary ramble. + +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward +and Augustus. + +“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable angel!” +(replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. It was too +pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted alternately +on a sofa. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 9th +From the same to the same + + +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from +Philippa. + +“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken +back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your +charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such +dear and deserving Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I +trust you will return to the arms of your” + +“Philippa.” + + +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after +thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would +certainly avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other place +to go to. Tho’ certainly nothing could to any reasonable Being, have +appeared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply to her +invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was certainly capricious +enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few weeks after, +either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, married a +young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ we were +sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which +Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, +excite from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might +prove a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling +Sensibility was greatly affected when we were first informed of the +Event. The affectionate Entreaties of Augustus and Sophia that we would +for ever consider their House as our Home, easily prevailed on us to +determine never more to leave them, In the society of my Edward and +this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our time +was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and +in vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being +interrupted, by intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and +Sophia had on their first Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care +to inform the surrounding Families, that as their happiness centered +wholly in themselves, they wished for no other society. But alas! my +Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then enjoyed was too perfect to be +lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at once destroyed every +sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what I have +already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were +a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had +been contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; +who had vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them +into a Marriage with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a +Heroic Fortitude worthy to be related and admired, they had both, +constantly refused to submit to such despotic Power. + +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of +Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined +never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in the World, in so +doing, by accepting any proposals of reconciliation that might be +offered them by their Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble +independance however they never were exposed. + +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced +during which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum +of money which Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy +father’s Escritoire, a few days before his union with Sophia. + +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses +and would have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what +was their Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull +Augustus was arrested and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery +in the merciless perpetrators of the Deed will shock your gentle nature +Dearest Marianne as much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility +of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat +such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the +House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what we did! +We sighed and fainted on the sofa. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 10th +LAURA in continuation + + +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our +grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent +step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his +imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we +would, and he set forwards on his journey to Town. During his absence +we faithfully complied with his Desire and after the most mature +Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we could do was to +leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers of +Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the +result of our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we +count the tedious moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain +even did we sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too +unexpected a Blow to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we +could only faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was +Mistress of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for +Sophia and myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and we +instantly set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus was within +twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we arrived there, and no +sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of the Front +Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed “If +they had seen my Edward?” + +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated +Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. +“Where am I to drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth +(replied I), to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot +go to Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus +in so cruel a confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the +_recital_, of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my +Sensibility.” As I perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her +Sentiments the Postilion was instantly directed to return into the +Country. You may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest +Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any +support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have +remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of +Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a +trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never +mentioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is +the circumstance I allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull +Inheritress of their House and Fortune. But alas! the House had never +been their own and their Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own +Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have +returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to +her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the +remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had not +one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; +which was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of +Ireland. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER 11th +LAURA in continuation + + +“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) +who I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order +the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself, +exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses.” +Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge of the +Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was +entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined +to change Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of +the Journey—. When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which +was but a few miles from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to +intrude our Society on him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very +elegant and well penned Note to him containing an account of our +Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of our intention to spend some +months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had dispatched this Letter, +we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were stepping into +the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the +Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first +Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed +at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that +he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my +conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and +following the Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I +threw myself on my knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me +as his Grand Child. He started, and having attentively examined my +features, raised me from the Ground and throwing his Grand-fatherly +arms around my Neck, exclaimed, “Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance +of my Laurina and Laurina’s Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my +Claudia’s Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and +the Grandaughter of the other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing +me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate Departure, entered the Room in +search of me. No sooner had she caught the eye of the venerable Peer, +than he exclaimed with every mark of Astonishment—“Another +Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the Daughter of my Laurina’s +eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently +proclaims it. “Oh!” replied Sophia, “when I first beheld you the +instinct of Nature whispered me that we were in some degree related—But +whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to +determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they were tenderly +embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull young +Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating +back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What +an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, +as many of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my +Laurina’s 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence +of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.” + +“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha +your Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the +House.” “None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without +farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and remember I +have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the Room and +immediately afterwards the House. + +Adeiu. +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 12th +LAURA in continuation + + +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure +of Lord St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy +Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. How +long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we +found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the +Banknotes. As we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the +Apartment opened and “Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin. +The haste with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of +our Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to +pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he +little deserved the name—for though he told us that he was much +concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it appeared that +the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a single sigh, nor +induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive stars—. He told +Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with him to +Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy to +see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were +received with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and +the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally +well disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic +Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly +encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but unfortunately +her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted to admire so +promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his +power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail +on her to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They +were to be married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when +we arrived. _We_ soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man +as one might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he +was Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge +of such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had +never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least +resemblance to auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no +affection for him, or at least that she ought to feel none. The very +circumstance of his being her father’s choice too, was so much in his +disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in every other respect yet +_that_ of itself ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of +Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to +represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting with +the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors +in the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her +own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her +indeed all that our warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no +difficulty to convince her that it was impossible she could love +Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her Father; the only thing +at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion that she must +be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered in +declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the +smallest Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a +thing she said that she beleived she _did like_ Captain M’Kenrie better +than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after +having enumerated the good Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that +she was violently in love with him, we desired to know whether he had +ever in any wise declared his affection to her. + +“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that +he has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press +your hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” “Never +(replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room indeed when +his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly abruptly +or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a +moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose +that he could ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having +settled this Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into +consideration was, to determine in what manner we should inform +M’Kenrie of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at +length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter which +Sophia drew up in the following manner. + +“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +_her_ Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider +that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that +you may now entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her +father’s Cruelty to the execrable and detested Graham.” + +“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of +her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had +doubtless long possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once +secure the felicity of both.” + +The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had +been the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of +his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings +of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to +her who inspired it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia +and I experienced the satisfaction of seeing them depart for +Gretna-Green, which they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials, +in preference to any other place although it was at a considerable +distance from Macdonald-Hall. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 13th +LAURA in continuation + + +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or +Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not +even then have suspected it, but for the following little Accident. +Sophia happening one day to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s +Library with one of her own keys, discovered that it was the Place +where he kept his Papers of consequence and amongst them some bank +notes of considerable amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and +having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a +Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly +gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us +happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from +the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often successfully put in +Execution; but alas! on the very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was +majestically removing the 5th Bank-note from the Drawer to her own +purse, she was suddenly most impertinently interrupted in her +employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and +precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness +could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on +the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore +her retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing +Macdonald, without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the +crime he was charged with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with +ignobly defrauding him of his money... The dignity of Sophia was +wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the +Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea +makes me blush?” The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to +upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language, that at +length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her Nature, as to +induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of Janetta’s +Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the affair. At +this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you may +imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of +the malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) +how canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless +reputation of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect _my_ +innocence as soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I _do_ suspect it, +and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less +than half an hour.” + +“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have +induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof.” + +“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully +exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled +Fortune-hunter.” (replied he) + +“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, +we have amply discharged every obligation that we have received from +her father.” + +“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted minds.” +(said he.) + +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left +Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate +down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted +limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms +sheltered us from the East—. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the +West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook and behind us ran the +turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and in a +Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had +for some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my +exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and Augustus +here to enjoy its Beauties with us?” + +“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear recalling +to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas, +what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he +is still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so +far to conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do +not I beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. +It affects me too deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it +wounds my feelings.” + +“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you—” replied +I—and then changing the conversation, desired her to admire the noble +Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! +my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a subject, I intreat you. +Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms. They +remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed +that noble grandeur which you admire in them.” + +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her +by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might again remind +her of Augustus. + +“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I +cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own +reflections; they ever recur to Augustus.” + +“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!” + +“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a +momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my +Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s +blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind +avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of +Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for +Augustus so poignant that I had not power to start any other topic, +justly fearing that it might in some unforseen manner again awaken all +her sensibility by directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be +silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. + +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly +apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the +road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as +it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections +which she had been before indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and +ran to the rescue of those who but a few moments before had been in so +elevated a situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now +laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What an ample subject for +reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that +Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!” said I +to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. + +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the +horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but +weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we +approached—they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they +were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed +and instantly ran mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our +senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of them +again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate +situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I running mad as often. At +length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of +life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that +either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif—but +as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we +knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No +sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and +kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He +fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.” + +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. + +“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested +and we were separated—” + +“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired—. Sophia +immediately sank again into a swoon—. _My_ greif was more audible. My +Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my face became as pale +as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—. + +“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in his +melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s Thunderbolts, avoid +the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of Firs—I see a Leg +of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but they deceived me—they +took him for a cucumber—” Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my +Edward’s Death—. For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not +then have left off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia +who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that +Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. “And +whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” “To that white +Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building which rose up amidst +the grove of Elms and which I had not before observed—) I agreed and we +instantly walked to it—we knocked at the door—it was opened by an old +woman; on being requested to afford us a Night’s Lodging, she informed +us that her House was but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but +that However we should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied +and followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly +cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and had +only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of ages; +but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing +therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to +possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined +Sensibilities—. She was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil +and obliging young woman; as such we could scarcely dislike here—she +was only an Object of Contempt—. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 14th +LAURA in continuation + + +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are +Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the +perusal of the following Pages your sensibility will be most severely +tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I had before experienced and which +I have already related to you, to the one I am now going to inform you +of. The Death of my Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost +more than my gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison to +the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after our +arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in her +delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the +Dew was falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably +the case; since how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should +have escaped the same indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily +Exertions I had undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so +effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against +the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive on +the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I was most +seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End +be fatal to her. + +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually +worse—and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was +obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy +Landlady—. Her disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few +days carried her off. Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent +you may suppose they were) I yet received some consolation in the +reflection of my having paid every attention to her, that could be +offered, in her illness. I had wept over her every Day—had bathed her +sweet face with my tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in +mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died) +take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which +had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though at the time they +may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if +too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my +greif for the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. +Beware of swoons Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so +pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I +dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as +you chuse; but do not faint—” + +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing +Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to +it. + +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I +immediately (tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she +died, and near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not +walked many yards from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in +which I instantly took a place, determined to proceed in it to +Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some kind some pitying Freind who +would receive and comfort me in my afflictions. + +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish +the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they +were many. Regardless however of anything concerning them, I gave +myself up to my own sad Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A +silence, which was by nothing interrupted but by the loud and repeated +snores of one of the Party. + +“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) +What a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus +shock our senses by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be +capable of every bad action! There is no crime too black for such a +Character!” Thus reasoned I within myself, and doubtless such were the +reflections of my fellow travellers. + +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled +Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward +the father of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the +same seat with me were your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my +surprise at finding myself thus seated amongst my old Acquaintance. +Great as was my astonishment, it was yet increased, when on looking out +of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his +side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander +and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible +that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and +Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye +was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I +throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more +to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the +Vale of Usk, I was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had +then a Father and a Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now +deprived of every freind but you—” + +“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, (replied +I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory +in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.” + +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and +Sir Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole +melancholy affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of +Sir Edward and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, +by the unhappy tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them +every other misfortune which had befallen me since we parted. Of the +imprisonment of Augustus and the absence of Edward—of our arrival in +Scotland—of our unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our +cousins—of our visit to Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there +performed towards Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his +inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of +us, in obliging us to leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss +of Edward and Augustus and finally of the melancholy Death of my +beloved Companion. + +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s +countenance, during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, +that to the eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely +predominated. Nay, faultless as my conduct had certainly been during +the whole course of my late misfortunes and adventures, she pretended +to find fault with my behaviour in many of the situations in which I +had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had always behaved in +a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid +little attention to what she said, and desired her to satisfy my +Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my +spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had +complyed with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate +detail of every thing that had befallen her since our separation (the +particulars of which if you are not already acquainted with, your +Mother will give you) I applied to Augusta for the same information +respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady Dorothea. + +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of +Nature, her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in +that part of the World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the +Highlands, that she had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to +Scotland and had persuaded Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they +had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days before and from thence had made +daily Excursions into the Country around in the Stage Coach they were +then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that time returning. +My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter +of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, +namely, Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to +them except their Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to +be removed from any of his former Acquaintance, had driven it to +Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other Day. That +Philippa still retaining her affection for her ungratefull Husband, had +followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him in his little +Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little money into +their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always travelled +in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival in +Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from +Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in +a crowded and uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her +sentiments on the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus +sacrificing his Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old +woman whose folly in marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His +Behaviour however was entirely of a peice with his general Character; +for what could be expected from a man who possessed not the smallest +atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the meaning of simpathy, and who +actually snored—. + +Adeiu +Laura. + + + + +LETTER the 15th +LAURA in continuation. + + +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was +determined to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as +soon as I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired +after their Health, expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their +situation. At first they seemed rather confused at my appearance +dreading no doubt that I might call them to account for the money which +our Grandfather had left me and which they had unjustly deprived me of, +but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to +step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater ease. +Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring +green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined +and sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them +of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and +at my request they related to me every incident of theirs. + +“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters +which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers +could neither of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it +is generally beleived that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a +Bricklayer and that my Father was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of +Edinburgh. This is however of little consequence for as our Mothers +were certainly never married to either of them it reflects no Dishonour +on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha +(the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived +together. They were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes +had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had always +lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of +the Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the +convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether it was from this +circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from a wish of being +independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for which we were always +remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is that when we had +reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran away. +Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with +eoconomy and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this +purpose we therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we +devoted to Victuals, the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th +to Carriages, the 5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to +Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having +thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we expected to make the +nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London and had the +good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner than +we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves +from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our +Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, +we gave over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some +strolling Company of Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. +Accordingly we offered our services to one and were accepted; our +Company was indeed rather small, as it consisted only of the Manager +his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to pay and the only +inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for want of +People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind +trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was _Macbeth_, +in which we were truly great. The Manager always played _Banquo_ +himself, his Wife my _Lady Macbeth_. I did the _Three Witches_ and +Philander acted _all the rest_. To say the truth this tragedy was not +only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and after +having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to +exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be +quartered in that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—. +We were in the Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the +arms to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our +Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get something from him by +discovering the Relationship—. You know how well it succeeded—. Having +obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the Town, leaving +our Manager and his Wife to act _Macbeth_ by themselves, and took the +road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune with great _eclat_. +We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some preferment in +the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.” + +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in +their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who +impatiently expected me. + +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least +for the present. + +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of +his son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a +year. I graciously promised that I would, but could not help observing +that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on account of my being +the Widow of Edward than in being the refined and amiable Laura. + +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of +Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can +uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy solitude, my +unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my Mother, my +Husband and my Freind. + +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all +others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her +stay in Scotland. + +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the +same time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered. + +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent +Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of _Luvis_ and +_Quick_. + +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still +continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:— + +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne. +Laura. + + +Finis + + +June 13th 1790. + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS + + +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. + + +Sir + +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me +with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I +greive; yet fear that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as +it is carried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is +another concern to your obliged humble + +Servant +The Author + + +Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. + +H. T. Austen + + +£105. 0. 0. + + + + +LESLEY CASTLE + + + + +LETTER the FIRST is from +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792. + +My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, +that she might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and +amiable Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these +words—the remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the +Maternal character and so openly violated the conjugal Duties, +prevented his adding anything farther; he embraced his sweet Child and +after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from us and seating himself +in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was there a better +young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has +experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! +for you know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her +Child and reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and +dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less +amiable Heart than Louisa owned! Her child already possesses the +personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she inherit from her Father +all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and twenty, and has +already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a difference +between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the +Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that +his Son was really about five years back, and that _he_ has affected to +appear ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about +the streets of London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of +57, Matilda and I continue secluded from Mankind in our old and +Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from Perth on a bold +projecting Rock, and commands an extensive veiw of the Town and its +delightful Environs. But tho’ retired from almost all the World, (for +we visit no one but the M’Leods, The M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the +M’Cartneys, the M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the +contrary there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty +girls, than we are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We +read, we work, we walk, and when fatigued with these Employments +releive our spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, or by +some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are handsome my dear +Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our Perfections is, that +we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I thus dwell +on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice the +innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as +she reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years +old; as handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as +prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you +that she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she +already knows the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never +tears her frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense +and Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, +and you will therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming +to Lesley-Castle, and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine +for yourself. Ah! my dear Freind, how happy should I be to see you +within these venerable Walls! It is now four years since my removal +from School has separated me from you; that two such tender Hearts, so +closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and Freindship, should +be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I live in +Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father +disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the +same time. We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else +indeed, could we but be at the same place together. We have only to +hope that such a period may arrive. My Father does not return to us +till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in a few Days; he is +impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters himself that +change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will join +with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of +the unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to +that of your sincere freind + +M. Lesley. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer. + + +Glenford Febry 12 + +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking +you my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should +not have deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the +last five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary arrangements +for my sisters wedding, as to allow me no time to devote either to you +or myself. And now what provokes me more than anything else is that the +Match is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great +the Dissapointment must be to me, when you consider that after having +laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner +ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton, +and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the +Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been +Roasting, Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. +Indeed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to +what I experienced on last Monday when my sister came running to me in +the store-room with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me +that Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and +was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. “Good +God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will +become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it while it +is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I shall be able +to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and You and +the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by seeing my +poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, +where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the +Maids, and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she +was sensible, she expressed a determination of going instantly to +Henry, and was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest +Difficulty in the World to prevent her putting it in execution; at last +however more by Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her +room; we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued for some Hours in the +most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I continued in the room with +her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would +allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in +our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some +plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do +was to begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the +cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with +great Alacrity. We would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of +a Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. She was however much quieter +than she had been; the convulsions she had before suffered having given +way to an almost perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by +every means in our power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. +“Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occasion for your crying so much about +such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order to +comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You see it does not vex me in +the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it after all; for I +shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have dressed +already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very +likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he +will) I shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry +any one else. So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may +afflict you to think of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die +soon, and then his pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my +Trouble will last much longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain +that the pantry cannot be cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did +all in my power to console her, but without any effect, and at last as +I saw that she did not seem to listen to me, I said no more, but +leaving her with my Mother I took down the remains of The Ham and +Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was not expected to +live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible care to +break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in +spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too +violent for her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high +Delirium. She is still extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly +afraid of her going into a Decline. We are therefore preparing for +Bristol, where we mean to be in the course of the next week. And now my +dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and in the first +place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, your Father is +going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so unpleasing a +report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have written +to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as +she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not +who is the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the +resolution he has taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to +obliterate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have +lately so much afflicted him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from +all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may +never know what it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely +affectionate + +C.L. + + +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, +which I enclose to you, and on which you will make your own +reflections. + +The enclosed LETTER + +My dear CHARLOTTE + +You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir +George Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I +am. Sir George is certainly married; I was myself present at the +Ceremony, which you will not be surprised at when I subscribe myself +your + +Affectionate +Susan Lesley + + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL + + +Lesley Castle February the 16th + +I _have_ made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my +Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I +reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a +second family, our fortunes must be considerably diminushed—that if his +Wife should be of an extravagant turn, she would encourage him to +persevere in that gay and Dissipated way of Life to which little +encouragement would be necessary, and which has I fear already proved +but too detrimental to his health and fortune—that she would now become +Mistress of those Jewels which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir +George had always promised us—that if they did not come into Perthshire +I should not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my +Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at the +head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were the +melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately +occupied her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, +whether the probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own +Consequence. We both wish very much to know whether Lady Lesley is +handsome and what is your opinion of her; as you honour her with the +appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves that she must be +amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few +Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull +manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his +Health and Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa +with any degree either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself +obliged to her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be +single again. By this, you may perceive that he has entirely regained +that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, for which he was once so +remarkable. When he first became acquainted with Louisa which was +little more than three years ago, he was one of the most lively, the +most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet heard the +particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our +cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa +Burton was the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who +dieing a few Months before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then +about eighteen to the protection of any of his Relations who would +protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only one who found herself so +disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from a miserable Cottage in +Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from every pecuniary +Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment that +Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and Cunning; +but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the +appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, +that to be married, would be the only chance she would have of not +being starved, and who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary +share of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an +engaging address, she might stand a good chance of pleasing some young +Man who might afford to marry a girl without a Shilling. Louisa +perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was determined to +forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of Perseverance +and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her natural +disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose +upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her +discovered her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley +first beheld her at Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your +favourite comparison) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a +Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few Days, +he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell, and before he had +known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at first highly +displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he found +that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the +bounty of his great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely +sufficient to support him and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the +first twelvemonth, no one could be happier than Lesley, and no one more +amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and so +cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I often spent several weeks +together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspicion of her real +Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one would have +thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she had +so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did +indeed appear if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she +seemed to take no pains to prevent that affection from ever +diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, were now less frequent +and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our absence was however +never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of +young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at +one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of +Matilda and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter +girls than we are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial +happiness; I will not repeat it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I +have not yet mentioned anything of the matter, I hope you will do me +the justice to beleive that I _think_ and _feel_, a great deal for your +Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but that the healthy air of the +Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing from her Mind the +remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever + +M. L. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + + +Bristol February 27th + +My Dear Peggy + +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex +while I was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from +some unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return +you many thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance, +Love and Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me +for having often been repeated to me before. + +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to +imagine our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left +Particular orders with the servants to eat as hard as they possibly +could, and to call in a couple of Chairwomen to assist them. We brought +a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold tongue, and half a dozen +Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the help of our +Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in less +than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very +indifferent both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air +of the Bristol downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor +Henry from her remembrance. + +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I +will now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. +She is short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a +good deal; has fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let +you know as soon as she sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is +remarkably good-tempered when she has her own way, and very lively when +she is not out of humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very +affected; she never reads anything but the letters she receives from +me, and never writes anything but her answers to them. She plays, sings +and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in none, tho’ she +says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may flatter me so far +as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little affection +should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our +freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. +We spent two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom +we both happened to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being +remarkably bad, and our party particularly stupid, she was so good as +to conceive a violent partiality for me, which very soon settled in a +downright Freindship and ended in an established correspondence. She is +probably by this time as tired of me, as I am of her; but as she is too +Polite and I am too civil to say so, our letters are still as frequent +and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as firm and sincere as +when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures of +London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some +difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I +dare say she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those +favourite haunts of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable +gloom of the castle you inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her +health impaired by too much amusement, she may acquire fortitude +sufficient to undertake a Journey to Scotland in the hope of its +Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not conducive to her +happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your father’s +extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your Sister’s +consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My freind +herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as +much every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will +certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living +to which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some +reason to fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune +at all. The Jewels I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and +there is too much reason to think that she will preside at her Husbands +table in preference to his Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject +must necessarily extremely distress you, I will no longer dwell on it—. + +Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family +since we came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill +health of their little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may +imagine that being the only family with whom we can converse, we are of +course on a footing of intimacy with them; we see them indeed almost +every day, and dined with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant Day, +and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure the Veal was terribly +underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not help wishing all +dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A brother of Mrs +Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a good-looking +young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I tell +Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem +to relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and +Cleveland has a very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not +consider _myself_ as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but +to tell you the truth I never wish to act a more principal part at a +Wedding than the superintending and directing the Dinner, and therefore +while I can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, I shall never +think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect that I should not have +so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for dressing that +of my freinds. + +Yours sincerely +C. L. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley-Castle March 18th + +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received +one from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us +that he should do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us +on the following evening. This as you may suppose considerably +surprised us, particularly as your account of her Ladyship had given us +reason to imagine there was little chance of her visiting Scotland at a +time that London must be so gay. As it was our business however to be +delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit from Sir George +and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer expressive of the +happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily +recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it +would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left +Edinburgh, we contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we +were as happy as we ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the +following day, they came, accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. +Her Ladyship perfectly answers the description you sent me of her, +except that I do not think her so pretty as you seem to consider her. +She has not a bad face, but there is something so extremely unmajestic +in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in comparison with +the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant Dwarf. Her +curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more than +four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins +to mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. +We cannot refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of +our Father, and thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is +certainly one of the most pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not +yet determined when we are to go, but when ever we do we shall +certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; +Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever + +M. L. + + + + +LETTER the SIXTH +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Lesley-Castle March 20th + +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already +heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square +for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no +idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actually +perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inaccessible, that I +expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and sincerely repented +having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the expence of +being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a +manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside +of this tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having +my spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the +Miss Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, +I met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and +Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls, +just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison +as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could but behold these +Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of your wits. They +will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. +Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who +I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave +me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss _Somebody_ which I +have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest Children. I have been +plagued ever since I came here with tiresome visits from a parcel of +Scotch wretches, with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me +so many invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, that I could +not help affronting them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and +yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do +with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings +but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett +with a great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there +is not a creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have +just had a conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly +offended me, and which as I have nothing more entertaining to send you +I will gave you the particulars of. You must know that I have for these +4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected William of entertaining a +partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that had _I_ been +inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have made choice +of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is nothing I +hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for +some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a +very great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to +see him unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry +Matilda, as moreover I know that his circumstances will not allow him +to marry any one without a fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely +dependant on her Father, who will neither have his own inclination nor +my permission to give her anything at present, I thought it would be +doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let him know as much, in +order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer his passion, +or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone with +him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause +to him in the following Manner. + +“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I +do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me +partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They +are indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to think”— + +“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do +not really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is +so very plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I +was speaking—” + +“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.” + +“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband +so deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see +any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion +perfectly unlike him and perfectly Handsome.” + +“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and +very handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is +very plain.” + +“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man.” + +“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain.” + +“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he). + +“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.” + +“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about _his_ Beauty, but your +opinion of his _Daughters_ is surely very singular, for if I understood +you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected to +do!” + +“Why, do _you_ find them plainer then?” (said I). + +“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak +of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss +Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?” + +“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!” + +“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why +what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly +find fault with?” + +“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I could +when I said it, in order to shame him). + +“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both.” + +“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!” + +“They are _taller_ than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy smile.) + +“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” + +“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, their +figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull.” + +“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never +could strain my neck enough to look at them.” + +“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in +not attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their +Lustre.” + +“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure +you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given +me just cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he +said) “You must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have +offended you!” + +“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least +surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these +girls.”— + +“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet +concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with +their complexion?” + +“They are so horridly pale.” + +“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened.” + +“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of +the world, they will never be able raise more than their common +stock—except indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down +these horrid old galleries and Antichambers.” + +“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they _have_ but little colour, at least, it +is all their own.” + +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the +impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. +But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it +so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I have protested +against wearing Rouge, and how much I always told you I disliked it. +And I assure you that my opinions are still the same.—. Well, not +bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately, +and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a +long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such +from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one +has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much vexed +by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to stay +and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I +am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, +that I am certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I +shall there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his +favourite. Adeiu my dear girl— + +Yrs affectionately Susan L. + + + + +LETTER the SEVENTH +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY + + +Bristol the 27th of March + +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this +week which have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are +both downright jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two +pretty Women tho’ actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same +House without falling out about their faces. Do be convinced that you +are both perfectly handsome and say no more of the Matter. I suppose +this letter must be directed to Portman Square where probably (great as +is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be sorry to find +yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields and +the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must +be very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my +Mother’s income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during +Winter. I always longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether +the cold Beef there is cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly +suspicion that few people understand the art of cutting a slice of cold +Beef so well as I do: nay it would be hard if I did not know something +of the Matter, for it was a part of my Education that I took by far the +most pains with. Mama always found me _her_ best scholar, tho’ when +Papa was alive Eloisa was _his_. Never to be sure were there two more +different Dispositions in the World. We both loved Reading. _She_ +preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved drawing, Pictures, and I +drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than she, and no one +make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued since we have +been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes on +the superior excellence of our Employments _then_ so frequent are now +no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to +admire each other’s works; I never fail listening to _her_ Music, and +she is as constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till +Henry Hervey made his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his +Aunt in our neighbourhood where she established herself you know about +a twelvemonth ago, his visits to her had been at stated times, and of +equal and settled Duration; but on her removal to the Hall which is +within a walk from our House, they became both more frequent and +longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs Diana who +is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum and +Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and +Good-breeding. Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour +that I have often heard her give such hints of it before his face that +had not Henry at such times been engaged in conversation with Eloisa, +they must have caught his Attention and have very much distressed him. +The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I have before hinted at, +now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of admiring each +others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ I +constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even +a pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of +approbation. This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; +however, I was as cool as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and +concerted a scheme of Revenge, I was determined to let her have her own +way and not even to make her a single reproach. My scheme was to treat +her as she treated me, and tho’ she might even draw my own Picture or +play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever really liked) not to say +so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ I had for many years constantly +hollowed whenever she played, _Bravo_, _Bravissimo_, _her_, _Da capo_, +_allegretto con expressione_, and _Poco presto_ with many other such +outlandish words, all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my +Admiration; and so indeed I suppose they are, as I see some of them in +every Page of every Music book, being the sentiments I imagine of the +composer. + +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for +alas! my silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease +her; on the contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I +am very glad to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous +custom of applauding my Execution on the Harpsichord till you made _my_ +head ake, and yourself hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for +keeping your admiration to yourself.” I never shall forget the very +witty answer I made to this speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be +quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in future, for be +assured that I shall always keep my admiration to myself and my own +pursuits and never extend it to yours.” This was the only very severe +thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have often felt myself +extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my feelings +public. + +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection +for each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for +Miss Burton could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You +may imagine therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him +play her such a trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with +undiminished constancy, notwithstanding he has been dead more than six +weeks; but some People mind such things more than others. The ill state +of Health into which his loss has thrown her makes her so weak, and so +unable to support the least exertion, that she has been in tears all +this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. Marlowe who with +her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this morning. I am +sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom we +have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure +Eloisa and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and +have therefore contracted a kind of affection for each other, which +does not make Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The +Marlowes are going to Town; Cliveland accompanies them; as neither +Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you or Matilda may have better +Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, Eloisa’s spirits are so +low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is certainly by no means +mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope determine our +Measures—in the mean time believe me + +and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell. + + + + +LETTER the EIGHTH +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE + + +Bristol April 4th + +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of +your affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you +made me of our Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great +releif to me to write to you and as long as my Health and Spirits will +allow me, you will find me a very constant correspondent; I will not +say an entertaining one, for you know my situation suffciently not to +be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart +too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You must not +expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least acquainted, +or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from +hearing or inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the +melancholy effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the +Happiness it once enjoyed and which ill supports its present +wretchedness. The Possibility of being able to write, to speak, to you +of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, and your goodness will not I +know refuse to read what it will so much releive my Heart to write. I +once thought that to have what is in general called a Freind (I mean +one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than to any +other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my +wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by +two confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of +one to me, and I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I +say that to have some kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to +my sorrows without endeavouring to console me was what I had for some +time wished for, when our acquaintance with you, the intimacy which +followed it and the particular affectionate attention you paid me +almost from the first, caused me to entertain the flattering Idea of +those attentions being improved on a closer acquaintance into a +Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you would be the +greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that such +Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is +now almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid +that I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off +writing, and I cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you +than by acting, as I know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or +Present. I am my dear Emmas sincere freind + +E. L. + + + + +LETTER the NINTH +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL + + +Grosvenor Street, April 10th + +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot +give a greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the +Desire I feel that our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than +by setting you so good an example as I now do in answering it before +the end of the week—. But do not imagine that I claim any merit in +being so punctual; on the contrary I assure you, that it is a far +greater Gratification to me to write to you, than to spend the Evening +either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my +appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like +to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, +that independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion +of my Time to my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a +letter to write of spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you +know me well enough to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient +Inducement (if one is necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure a +Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters to me, +whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally +interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of +your own sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will +only encourage and increase them, and that it will be more prudent in +you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing +and melancholy Pleasure it must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself +to deny you so great an Indulgence, and will only insist on your not +expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own letters; on the contrary +I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and enlivening Humour as +shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull countenance of +my Eloisa. + +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three +freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have +been here. I know you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the +Beauty of three Ladies of whom you have heard so much. Now, as you are +too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I think I may venture to inform you +that I like none of their faces so well as I do your own. Yet they are +all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I +beleive would in general be said to have a finer face than her +Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a +little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which +she is superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself +as many admirers as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. +I am sure you will agree with me in saying that they can none of them +be of a proper size for real Beauty, when you know that two of them are +taller and the other shorter than ourselves. In spite of this Defect +(or rather by reason of it) there is something very noble and majestic +in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and something agreably lively in +the appearance of their pretty little Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may +be majestic and the other lively, yet the faces of neither possess that +Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her present languor is so far +from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother say of us, if they +knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this letter. It +is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by any +one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either +her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more +amiable are women in that particular! One man may say forty civil +things to another without our supposing that he is ever paid for it, +and provided he does his Duty by our sex, we care not how Polite he is +to his own. + +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, +my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and +Spirits that can be offered by her affectionate Freind + +E. Marlowe. + + +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the +witty way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when +I assure you that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. + + + + +LETTER the TENTH +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL + + +Portman Square April 13th + +MY DEAR CHARLOTTE + +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in +London after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding +your Letter here waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful +Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I every day more regret the serene and +tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have left, in exchange for the +uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted City. Not that I will +pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal Amusements are in +the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy them +extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that +every appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those +unhappy Beings whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is +out of my power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my +sensibility for the sufferings of so many amiable young Men, my Dislike +of the extreme admiration I meet with, and my aversion to being so +celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, and in Printshops, +that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the Amusements so +various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I +possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as +inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as +yours! But ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I +have had the small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. + +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has +long disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to +require the most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night +Matilda and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs +Kickabout’s; we were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable +young Man in the main, tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He +is in love with Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the +Lady of the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when +my Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most +lovely of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with another +Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him, I was certain +that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. Imagine my +surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of Cleveland—I +instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and the +acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the +gentleman and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe +handsome?) The elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners +and Delightful Bow, at once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; +but I can imagine everything he would have said, had he opened his +Mouth. I can picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the Noble +sentiments, and elegant Language which would have shone so conspicuous +in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The approach of Sir James Gower +(one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the Discovery of any such +Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never commenced, and +by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are the +accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! +Sir James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost +always of our Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but +no Cleveland—he is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues +me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome Conversations about +you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in the hope of seeing her +irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going to Lady Flambeaus, who +is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be Lady Lesley, +Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of Sir +George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune +where art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes +her appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful +Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I +wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely she must be +sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her little diminutive +figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible that she can not +know how greatly superior an elegant simplicity is to the most studied +apparel? Would she but Present them to Matilda and me, how greatly +should we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds be on our fine +majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an Idea should +never have occurred to _her_. I am sure if I have reflected in this +manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s +Jewels too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me +entertain you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this +morning from Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he +is at Naples has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s +Bulls for annulling his 1st Marriage and has since actually married a +Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that +much the same sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worthless +Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon +to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished +merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite +forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good +Neighbours. He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and +to bring him his little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and +himself are equally desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his +invitation, it is at Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to +go without loss of time; Fitzgerald offers to escort us there, but +Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such a scheme—she owns it +would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father +desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months +both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending +us. Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the +Amusements of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our +Brother. “No (says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been +fool enough to travel I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of +the Family, and I found it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I +am so foolish again.” So says her Ladyship, but Sir George still +Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany +us. + +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + +FROM +THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH +TO +THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST + +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. + + + + +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by + +THE AUTHOR. + + +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. + + + + +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND + + +HENRY the 4th + + +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own +satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and +predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the +rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered. +It is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had certainly +four sons, but it is not in my power to inform the Reader who was his +wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his +son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the +King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to +Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being +thus settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son +Henry who had previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. + +HENRY the 5th + + +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and +amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing +Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I +forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where +he went and fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards +married the King’s daughter Catherine, a very agreable woman by +Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this however he died, and was +succeeded by his son Henry. + +HENRY the 6th + + +I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him +and the Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had +better read some other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in +this, meaning by it only to vent my spleen _against_, and shew my +Hatred _to_ all those people whose parties or principles do not suit +with mine, and not to give information. This King married Margaret of +Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost +to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of +Arc lived and made such a _row_ among the English. They should not have +burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles between the Yorkists +and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) usually +conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was +murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the +Throne. + +EDWARD the 4th + + +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which +the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in +marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient +proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was +afterwards confined in a Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and +Avarice Henry the 7th. One of Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who +has had a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and therefore not +worth reading. Having performed all these noble actions, his Majesty +died, and was succeeded by his son. + +EDWARD the 5th + + +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to +draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose +name was Richard the 3rd. + +RICHARD the 3rd + + +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated +by Historians, but as he was a _York_, I am rather inclined to suppose +him a very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted +that he killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been +declared that he did _not_ kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to +beleive true; and if this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he +did not kill his Wife, for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of +York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether +innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E. +of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss about +getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth, +he succeeded to it. + +HENRY the 7th + + +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of +York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right +inferior to hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage +he had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was +married to the King of Scotland and had the happiness of being +grandmother to one of the first Characters in the World. But of _her_, +I shall have occasion to speak more at large in future. The youngest, +Mary, married first the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk, +by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey, +who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an +amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other people +were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck +and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former +of whom was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was +beheaded with the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the +Kings kitchen. His Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry +whose only merit was his not being _quite_ so bad as his daughter +Elizabeth. + +HENRY the 8th + + +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were +not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I +am myself. It will therefore be saving _them_ the task of reading again +what they have read before, and _myself_ the trouble of writing what I +do not perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the +principal Events which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked +Cardinal Wolsey’s telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he +was come to lay his bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and +the King’s riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is +however but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was +entirely innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of +which her Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient +proofs, not to mention her solemn Protestations of Innocence, the +weakness of the Charges against her, and the King’s Character; all of +which add some confirmation, tho’ perhaps but slight ones when in +comparison with those before alledged in her favour. Tho’ I do not +profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper to give some and +shall of course make choice of those which it is most necessary for the +Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her letter to the +King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of this +Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has +fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his +abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous +depredations of time has been of infinite use to the landscape of +England in general, which probably was a principal motive for his doing +it, since otherwise why should a Man who was of no Religion himself be +at so much trouble to abolish one which had for ages been established +in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice +who, tho’ universally acquitted of the crimes for which she was +beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led an abandoned +life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, since she +was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the +Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The +Kings last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected +it. He was succeeded by his only son Edward. + +EDWARD the 6th + + +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s +death, he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the +late King happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the +Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. +This Man was on the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat +of a favourite with me, tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that +he was equal to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or +Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud, +had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as +it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never +happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with +the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of Northumberland had the +care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so +well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his daughter in law +the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading Greek. +Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was +always rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, +she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what +was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she +declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen, and while +conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence in Latin and another +in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband accidentally passing +that way. + +MARY + + +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of +England, in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her +Cousins Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the +Kingdom for the misfortunes they experienced during her Reign, since +they fully deserved them, for having allowed her to succeed her +Brother—which was a double peice of folly, since they might have +foreseen that as she died without children, she would be succeeded by +that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many were +the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her +reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of +Spain who in her sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She +died without issue, and then the dreadful moment came in which the +destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in +her, and the Murderess of her Cousin succeeded to the Throne.—— + +ELIZABETH + + +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad +Ministers—Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed +such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived +at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people +been asserted and beleived that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, +and the rest of those who filled the cheif offices of State were +deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded such +writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised, +neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their +Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining +for the space of nineteen years, a _Woman_ who if the claims of +Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who +condescended to place confidence in her, had every reason to expect +assistance and protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring +this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can +any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, this everlasting +blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any praise to +Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this bewitching +Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose only +ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was +abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and +vilified by all, what must not her most noble mind have suffered when +informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it +with a most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her +Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she was +doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious +Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that some +hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much +credit? But this is a striking proof of _their_ narrow souls and +prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great +Hall at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of +February 1586—to the everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, +and of England in general. It may not be unnecessary before I entirely +conclude my account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had +been accused of several crimes during the time of her reigning in +Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she +was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, +her Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely +done away every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in +the Reader’s mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I +shall proceed to mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s +reign. It was about this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English +Navigator who sailed round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his +Country and his profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated +as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in this +or the next Century by one who tho’ now but young, already promises to +answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of his Relations and +Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom this work is +dedicated, and my no less amiable self. + +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of +Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an _Earl_, as Drake +was in that of a _Sailor_, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This +unfortunate young Man was not unlike in character to that equally +unfortunate one _Frederic Delamere_. The simile may be carried still +farther, and Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to the +Emmeline of Delamere. It would be endless to recount the misfortunes of +this noble and gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was +beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant of +Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and after +performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long +survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to +the memory of Mary I should pity her. + +JAMES the 1st + + +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most +principal, was his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the +whole I cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had +several Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died +before his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell +his unfortunate Brother. + +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with +infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member +of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am +necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England +did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour +indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of Parliament might justly +be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho’ +certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general +politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were +entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. + +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is +by many people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an +enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and +must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars +of his life, to Mr Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find +many interesting anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir +Christopher Hatton.—His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which +inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a keener +penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard +an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now on +reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to +_find it out_, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them. + +SHARADE + + +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on +my whole. + +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards +created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in +the above mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of +Buckingham. On his Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles. + +CHARLES the 1st + + +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to +those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve +since he was her descendant. Never certainly were there before so many +detestable Characters at one time in England as in this Period of its +History; never were amiable men so scarce. The number of them +throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to _five_, besides the +inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their King and faithful +to his interests. The names of this noble five who never forgot the +duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, +were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own +support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. +While the _villains_ of the time would make too long a list to be +written or read; I shall therefore content myself with mentioning the +leaders of the Gang. Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be +considered as the original Causers of all the disturbances, Distresses, +and Civil Wars in which England for many years was embroiled. In this +reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my +attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally guilty with the +generality of the English, since they dared to think differently from +their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as _Stuarts_ it was +their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the +unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too +numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what +I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my principal reason for +undertaking the History of England being to Prove the innocence of the +Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with having effectually done, +and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather fearful of having fallen short +in the latter part of my scheme.—As therefore it is not my intention to +give any particular account of the distresses into which this King was +involved through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall +satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of Arbitrary and +tyrannical Government with which he has often been charged. This, I +feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am certain +of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions +have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that +he was a STUART. + +FINIS + + +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +To Miss COOPER + + +COUSIN + +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every +Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I +Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious +Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by +your Comical Cousin + +The Author + + + + +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS + + + + +LETTER the FIRST +From a MOTHER to her FREIND. + + +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner +from that in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now +arrived at that age when it is necessary for them in some measure to +become conversant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister +scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that their education +has been such as will not disgrace their appearance in the World, and +that _they_ will not disgrace their Education I have every reason to +beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible yet +unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As their +progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am +willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together +into Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first _entrée_ into +Life, as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad +that we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward +for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall +proceed by degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, +and perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay +Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we +have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at +Sir John Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the +Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How +they will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I +have no fear, I only dread their health. + + +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls _are out_. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove +to the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they +were seated thus addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now +arrived when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours +towards you during your Education. You are this Evening to enter a +World in which you will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me +warn you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the +Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if +you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both assured me that they +would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow it with +attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to +amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would +never give me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had +presided over their infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such +expectations and such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear +from you—and can chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of +your being seduced by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. +Come, then my Children (added I) the Carriage is driving to the door, +and I will not a moment delay the happiness you are so impatient to +enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely +breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. “The long-expected +Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be in the World.”—In +a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s parlour, where with her daughter +she sate ready to receive us. I observed with delight the impression my +Children made on them—. They were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking +Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the peculiarity of their +situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and address which +could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how delighted I must +have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed every +object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in +raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners. + +Yrs Ever—A. F. + + + + +LETTER the SECOND +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind + + +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why +should I feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have +experienced before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for +Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our +feelings become more acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my +dear Belle that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being +more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen, +or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most +lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then dear +Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I +weep when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My +Freinds are all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they +lament my want of spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of +releiving my melancholy, by directing my thoughts to other objects, +they have invited several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with +us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected +on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s family will be with us next week. This +is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the +presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and distress +me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our Visitors are arrived. + + +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet +sister Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming +Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she +is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is +more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, +the moment she entered the house, and she appeared equally pleased with +me, attaching herself to me during the remainder of the day. There is +something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, that she seems more +than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I +could not help telling her how much she engaged my admiration—. “Oh! +Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an inability at the moment of +expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss Jane—(I repeated)—I could +not think of words to suit my feelings—She seemed waiting for my +speech—. I was confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I +could only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my Embarrassment +and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by saying—“My +dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself—I will turn the +Conversation without appearing to notice it. “Oh! how I loved her for +her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you used to do?” said she—. “I am +advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I +have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I +quite recovered from my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal.” +“You are in the right my Love,” said she. Then repeating the following +line which was an extempore and equally adapted to recommend both +Riding and Candour— + +“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” _I_ rode +once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and tremulous a +Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could +make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes on my +face, since I was married.” I was never so surprised—“Married, Ma’am!” +I repeated. “You may well wear that look of astonishment, said she, +since what I have said must appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is +more true than that I once was married.” + +“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” + +“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret +from him and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might +offer of revealing it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon +given in the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears, +continued Miss Jane wiping her Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory. +He fell my Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after a +most happy Union of seven years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a +Girl, who had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with +him and with every one as the Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever +been an only Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. But no +sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures fell sick and +died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an +Aunt I attended my Children to their early Grave—. My Father did not +survive them many weeks—He died, poor Good old man, happily ignorant to +his last hour of my Marriage.” + +“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s death?” + +“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself +are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been +either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the +name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry’s death I could never +hear without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that +of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point +of bearing only my Christian one since my Father’s death.” She +paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to +you for so entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted +me! But have you quite done?” + +“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, +and as we had always loved each other in idea from the high Character +in which we had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we +determined to live together. We wrote to one another on the same +subject by the same post, so exactly did our feeling and our actions +coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we gave and received +of becoming one family, and have from that time lived together in the +greatest affection.” + +“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.” + +“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?” + +“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when +one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to hear +of equal misery.” + +“Ah! but my Sophia why _are you_ unhappy?” + +“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?” + +“But my love why lament _his_ perfidy, when you bore so well that of +many young Men before?” + +“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.” + +“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane. + + + + +LETTER the THIRD +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind + + +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my +Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who +did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to +sit forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent +especially as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation +on me “So Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the +door of the Carriage) you seem very smart to night—_My_ poor Girls will +appear quite to disadvantage by _you_—I only hope your Mother may not +have distressed herself to set _you_ off. Have you got a new Gown on?” + +“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could assume. + +“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission I +seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, +for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a +needless piece of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped +one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor, +for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than +blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time +I must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been +quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell you the truth (I always +speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the +room will not know whether you have a Gown on or not—But I suppose you +intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, the sooner the better; and +I wish you success.” + +“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—” + +“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” Miss +Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. + +“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her Ladyship. + +“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.” + +“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant.” + +“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” + +“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” “Bread and +Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a better supper.” said +Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is +always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she +constantly does at her Mother’s wit. + +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while +riding in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother +is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my +way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady +Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her +House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of +being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.—When we arrived at +Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, which was an hour and a half +later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too +fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing +however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just +as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got +his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean +time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room +went exactly before me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me +though there were several people close to us, + +“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I +am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; +perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she +passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and +leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr +Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered +the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared +from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all +the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations +in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in +the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see +that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who +had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly +when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with +_more_ than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and +said loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss +Maria in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and +I cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she +wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent +her seeing that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine +Merchant.” “Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not +he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that +he did.” “At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” +“Why, was not your _Father_ as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not +he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me +_such_ a look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half +delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of being +thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she +took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in +favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a +Party of great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone +else. Miss Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen +preferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant +Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable +ride. + +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at +the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it +should. She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should +not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she +wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste and come +immediately—” “What an impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—” +replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her +Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold. + +“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that +you may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do +not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine for +I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I +could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself +dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait—I hate my +Victuals over-done—But you need not come before the time—How does your +Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the +middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it +very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said +her Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are +used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made +your Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often +ride in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the +wind shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as +you do in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings +either of cold or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on +Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at +night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk home—My +compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive on—” +And away she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always +does. + +Maria Williams. + + + + +LETTER the FOURTH +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind + + +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very +agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her +appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and +voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that +they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her +Life, who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen +her, for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, +and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable +opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished +to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr +Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged +in a whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of +necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and +being determined not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began +the Conversation in the following Manner. + +“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?” + +“I arrived on Tuesday.” + +“You came from Derbyshire?” + +“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will +think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not +wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased +with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you +have left?” + +“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know +for why. + +“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a +poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much +raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. + +“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.” +“You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma’am I was and passed many happy +years there—” + +“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you never spent any +_un_happy one’s there.” + +“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a +right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—_Some_ Misfortunes I have +certainly met with.” + +“_What_ Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with impatience to +know every thing. “_None_ Ma’am I hope that have been the effect of any +wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but that +any sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the +cruelties of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem +unhappy my dear Miss Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your +Misfortunes?” “_Your_ power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it +is in _no ones_ power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in +so mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage +to reply. I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few +moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear +Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably +stand in need of some one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to +superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give +it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept the offer I +make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall +only ask for yours—” + +“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am highly flattered by +your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no +uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I +am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall +know where to apply.” + +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still +however I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of +sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined +therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you +intend staying long in this part of England Miss Grenville?” + +“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.” + +“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?” + +“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I did not +expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life—. + + + + +LETTER the FIFTH +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind + + +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love +every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I +had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from +my dear Musgrove. + +Sackville St: Janry 7th + + +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the +sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the +day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when her +Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase it +from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live +within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first +entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was +like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with +admiration—She appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate +Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time to look +about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an happiness +for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is +Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine +for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored by a +Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you +are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You are +an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the prettiest +Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves +Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ah! +Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for +the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair +one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in +affluence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an +improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I +am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house +which tho’ an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is +ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—Of that +Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and +devoted humble servt. + +T. Musgrove. + + +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a +master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of +Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? +No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with +by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the +following in answer to his Letter tomorrow. + +My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made +me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than +any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest +Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a +Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you +are in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How +shall we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we +cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how +impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will not +Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you +every day of my Life. + +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her +house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are +there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I +never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most +truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever + +Henrietta Halton. + + +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write +though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a +Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady +Scudamores—And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I +liked her Cousin Musgrove? + +“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.” + +“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love +with you.” + +“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?” + +“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love +with you from the first moment he beheld you.” + +“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I +would give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first +sight.” + +“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I +beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a +contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a +great deal of the World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.” + +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my +conquest. However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so +I said to her— + +“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who +have no fortune at all.” + +“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you +can be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to +encourage your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a +fortune with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an +estate of several hundreds an year which is capable of great +Improvement, and an excellent House, though at Present it is not quite +in repair.” + +“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, +and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good +Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for +admiring me, tho’ perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady +Scudamore.” + +“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I +am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to +yourself, cherishing a most tender affection for him.” + +“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?” + +“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?” + +“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away +my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.” + +“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why +refuse to confide in me?” + +“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, +that I am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a +handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be +ashamed of a passion which must have been mean since the object would +have been unworthy. But with such a figure and face, and such beautiful +hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such superior +merit has made an impression on me.” + +“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a +quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such +Noble Sentiments!” + +“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady Scudamore +did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” + +“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you +say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the +invisible power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so +exactly coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair is not very different. +Yes my dear Girl, the poor despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the +story of his Love—. Nor was I surprised at it—I know not how it was, +but I had a kind of presentiment that he _would_ be in love with you.” + +“Well, but how did he break it to you?” + +“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together +talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the +Conversation was cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, +when on a sudden he interrupted me in the midst of something I was +saying, by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone— + +Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me + +“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such +a couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are +not in rhime!” + +“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am +very sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, +with a pretty Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent +House tho’ somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with +success to the adorable Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel +and been toasted by a Baronet”—“_That_ I have—” cried I. Lady Scudamore +continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced of the +little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, +that I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet +surely neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the +exquisite Gratification of dieing for her, of falling a victim to her +Charms. And when I am dead”—continued her— + +“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!” + +“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” “When +I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and perhaps +she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” + +“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it.” + +“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would +not for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.” + +“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. + +“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when +I feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to +haste such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta +bless some happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly +attached to her as the hapless Musgrove and while _he_ crumbles to +dust, May they live an example of Felicity in the Conjugal state!” + +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be +lain at my feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have +to be capable of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. + +“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, +must melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; +and could the divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her +happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she +would pity your affection and endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin +answered he, do not endeavour to raise my hopes by such flattering +assurances. No, I cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and the +only thing which remains for me to do, is to die.” “True Love is ever +desponding replied I, but _I_ my dear Tom will give you even greater +hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, than I have yet given you, +by assuring you that I watched her with the strictest attention during +the whole day, and could plainly discover that she cherishes in her +bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for you.” + +“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!” + +“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I +to him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might +render the pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid +voice, nothing will convince me that _I_ can have touched the heart of +Henrietta Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt +deceiving me.” “In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me +to Persuade the poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference +for him; but when at last he could no longer deny the force of my +arguments, or discredit what I told him, his transports, his Raptures, +his Extacies are beyond my power to describe.” + +“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my +Uncle and Aunt?” + +“Yes, I told him every thing.” + +“And what did he say.” + +“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by +their Nephews or Neices, and wished _he_ were in the House of Commons, +that he might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.” + +“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I. + +“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta +would condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that +splendor to which she had been used, and accept only in exchange the +Comforts and Elegancies which his limited Income could afford her, even +supposing that his house were in Readiness to receive her. I told him +that it could not be expected that she would; it would be doing her an +injustice to suppose her capable of giving up the power she now +possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to the poorer +part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you and +herself.” + +“To be sure said I, I _am_ very Charitable every now and then. And what +did Mr Musgrove say to this?” + +“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the +truth of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy +Creature destined to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must +bring himself to wait, however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when +she might be freed from the power of worthless Relations and able to +bestow herself on him.” + +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who +am to be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so +adeiu my dear freind, and beleive me yours etc— + +H. Halton. + + +Finis. + + + + +SCRAPS + + + + +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN + + +MY DEAR NEICE + +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon +from superintending your Education myself, the care of which will +probably on that account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it +is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling as much as possible the +want of my personal instructions, by addressing to you on paper my +Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of Young Women, which you will +find expressed in the following pages.— + +I am my dear Neice +Your affectionate Aunt +The Author. + + + + +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER + +A LETTER + +MY DEAR LOUISA + +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath, +whither he is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him, +but the eldest and the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. +Though you have often told me that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome, +you never mentioned anything of her Sisters’ beauty; yet they are +certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give you their description.—Julia is +eighteen; with a countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dignity are +happily blended, she has a form which at once presents you with Grace, +Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter than +her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity of +Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way as +estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness +the most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She +appears to have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her +conversation during the half hour they set with us, was replete with +humourous sallies, Bonmots and repartees; while the sensible, the +amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality worthy of a heart like her +own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I had always received +of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that social Shake, +and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old and +valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been +separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) +that many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which +gave occasion to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections +on the many changes in their situation which so long a period had +occasioned, on the advantages of some, and the disadvantages of others. +From this subject she made a short digression to the instability of +human pleasures and the uncertainty of their duration, which led her to +observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She was proceeding to +illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great Men when +the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending +five or six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, +and I assure you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. +“Louisa Clarke (said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet +sometimes her good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. +She neither wants Understanding or is without some pretensions to +Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the value she sets on her +personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be offered are +at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her folly.” So +said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the concurrence of +their own. + +Your affectionate +Arabella Smythe. + + + + +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY + + +_Characters_ + +Popgun Maria +Charles Pistolletta +Postilion Hostess +Chorus of ploughboys Cook +and and +Strephon Chloe + + +SCENE—AN INN + + +_Enter_ Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. + + +Hostess to Maria +If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9. + +Maria +Yes Mistress.—_exit_ Maria + +Hostess to Cook +If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them. + +Cook +I will, I will. _exit_ Cook. + +Hostess to Charles +If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it. + +Charles +Yes Madam. _exeunt_ Severally. + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta. + + +Pistoletta +Pray papa how far is it to London? + +Popgun +My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the +picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am +going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my +whole Estate, it wants seven Miles. + + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE SUN— + + +_Enter_ Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. + + +Chloe +Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be +married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will +sing a song. + +SONG + + +I go to Town +And when I come down, +I shall be married to Streephon.* +And that to me will be fun. + + +[* Note the two e’s] + + +Chorus + + +Be fun, be fun, be fun, +And that to me will be fun. + + +_Enter_ Cook— + + +Cook +Here is the bill of fare. + +Chloe reads +2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have +the leg of beef and the partridge. + +_Exit_ Cook. + +And now I will sing another song. + +SONG + + +I am going to have my dinner, +After which I shan’t be thinner, +I wish I had here Strephon +For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one. + + +Chorus + + +Tough one, tough one, tough one +For he would carve the partridge if it +Should be a tough one. + + +_Exit_ Chloe and Chorus.— + +SCENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE LION. + + +_Enter_ Strephon and Postilion. + + +Streph:) +You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to +Town to marry Chloe. How much is your due? + +Post: +Eighteen pence. + +Streph: +Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support +myself in Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I +received from Chloe. + +Post: +Sir, I accept your offer. + +END OF THE FIRST ACT. + + + + +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her +Judgement led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart +disapproved. + +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved +Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that +on a close examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have +strictly deserved them. I murdered my father at a very early period of +my Life, I have since murdered my Mother, and I am now going to murder +my Sister. I have changed my religion so often that at present I have +not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured witness in every public +tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my own Will. In +short there is scarcely a crime that I have not committed—But I am now +going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse guards has paid his +Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As there is +something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. +Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died +immensely rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice +to his three younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about +eight Million to the present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the +Colonel lived tolerably contented for nearly four months when he took +it into his head to determine on getting the whole of his eldest +Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged and the Colonel produced it in +Court—but nobody would swear to it’s being the right will except +himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody beleived him. At that +moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, and was +beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready +to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply +to me. In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore +to its’ being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign +all his illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the +next day with an offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my +Sister. + +Yours Ever, +Anna Parker. + + + + +A TOUR THROUGH WALES— +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY— + + +MY DEAR CLARA + +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my +power to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last +Monday month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a +principality contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of +Wales. We travelled on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our +little poney and Fanny and I walked by her side or rather ran, for my +Mother is so fond of riding fast that she galloped all the way. You may +be sure that we were in a fine perspiration when we came to our place +of resting. Fanny has taken a great many Drawings of the Country, which +are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such exact resemblances as might +be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. It would astonish +you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We determined to take +a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our own besides +those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both capped +and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone, +Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which +we each took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully— + +I am your ever affectionate +Elizabeth Johnson. + + + + +A TALE. + + +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage +in Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested +to him by his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a +Closet for him, provided he would take a small house near the borders +of an extensive Forest, and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus +gladly accepted the offer and continued for some time searching after +such a retreat when he was one morning agreably releived from his +suspence by reading this advertisement in a Newspaper. + +TO BE LETT + + +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three +Miles from the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a +Closet. + +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and +shewed him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him +in his Carriage to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for +three days and six nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest +and following a track which led by it’s side down a steep Hill over +which ten Rivulets meandered, they reached the Cottage in half an hour. +Wilhelminus alighted, and after knocking for some time without +receiving any answer or hearing any one stir within, he opened the door +which was fastened only by a wooden latch and entered a small room, +which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that were +unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A pair +of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less +destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the +House. He was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the +comfort of reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything +on furniture himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took +him the next day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was +requisite to furnish the two rooms and the Closet, In a few days +everything was completed, and Wilhelminus returned to take possession +of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable +Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and Marina to whom +Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of Attendants.—An +ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in endeavouring +to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable presence +of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in an +open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was +both simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by +four sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and +that happy ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of +Wilhelminus’s most striking Virtues. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE AND FREINDSHIP *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Love And Freindship And Other Early Works</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Jane Austen</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February, 1998 [eBook #1212]<br /> +[Most recently updated: September 24, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE AND FREINDSHIP ***</div> + +<h1>LOVE & FREINDSHIP<br/> +AND<br/> +OTHER EARLY WORKS</h1> + +<h3>A Collection of Juvenile Writings</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Jane Austen</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"><b>LOVE AND FREINDSHIP</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0002">LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0003">LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0004">LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0005">LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0006">LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0007">LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0008">LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0009">LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0010">LETTER the 9th From the same to the same</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0011">LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0012">LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0013">LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0014">LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0015">LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0016">LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation.</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"><b>AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0018">LESLEY CASTLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0019">LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0020">LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0021">LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0022">LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0023">LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0024">LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0025">LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0026">LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0027">LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0028">LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0029"><b>THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0030"><b>A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0031">To Miss COOPER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0033">LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0034">LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0035">LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0036">LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0037">LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0038"><b>THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0039"><b>THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0040">A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0041">A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0042"><b>A TALE.</b></a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0001"></a> +LOVE AND FREINDSHIP</h2> + +<p class="center"> +TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER OBLIGED +HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0002"></a> +LETTER the FIRST<br/> +From ISABEL to LAURA</h2> + +<p> +How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my Daughter +a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your Life, have you said +“No, my freind never will I comply with your request till I may be no +longer in Danger of again experiencing such dreadful ones.” +</p> + +<p> +Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may ever be +said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of disagreeable Lovers +and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers, surely it must be at such a +time of Life. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Isabel +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0003"></a> +LETTER 2nd<br/> +LAURA to ISABEL</h2> + +<p> +Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be +exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already experienced, yet to +avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I will gratify the curiosity +of your daughter; and may the fortitude with which I have suffered the many +afflictions of my past Life, prove to her a useful lesson for the support of +those which may befall her in her own. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Laura +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0004"></a> +LETTER 3rd<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that +knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited me to +give you. +</p> + +<p> +My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother was the +natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I was born in +Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France. +</p> + +<p> +When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to my +paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most romantic +parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably softened +and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I was once +beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were the least of my +Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my sex, I was Mistress. +When in the Convent, my progress had always exceeded my instructions, my +Acquirements had been wonderfull for my age, and I had shortly surpassed my +Masters. +</p> + +<p> +In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the +Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment. +</p> + +<p> +A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds, my +Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my only fault, +if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’ indeed my own +Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they ever did, yet now I +never feel for those of an other. My accomplishments too, begin to fade—I +can neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once did—and I have +entirely forgot the <i>Minuet Dela Cour</i>. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0005"></a> +LETTER 4th<br/> +Laura to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She may +probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in indigent +Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical motives. There it was +our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then one and twenty. Tho’ +pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between ourselves) she never possessed +the hundredth part of my Beauty or Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. +She had passed 2 Years at one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had +spent a fortnight in Bath and had supped one night in Southampton. +</p> + +<p> +“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities and +idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the unmeaning +Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be +exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the Dissipations of +London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of Southampton? I who am +doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an humble Cottage in the Vale of +Uske.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble Cottage +for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0006"></a> +LETTER 5th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were arranged in +social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden greatly astonished, by +hearing a violent knocking on the outward door of our rustic Cot. +</p> + +<p> +My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It +sounds like a loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) +“it does indeed.” (cried I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my +Father) it certainly does appear to proceed from some uncommon violence exerted +against our unoffending door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help +thinking it must be somebody who knocks for admittance.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine on +what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone <i>does</i> rap +at the door, I am partly convinced.” +</p> + +<p> +Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and somewhat +alarmed my Mother and me. +</p> + +<p> +“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are +out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added +my Father) by all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my +Mother,) “The sooner the better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no +time be lost” (cried I.) +</p> + +<p> +A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am +certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) +“I think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the +servants are returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” +“I’m glad of it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it +is.” +</p> + +<p> +I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room, informed us +that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door, who had lossed their +way, were very cold and begged leave to warm themselves by our fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no +objection, my Dear?” (said my Father.) “None in the World.” +(replied my Mother.) +</p> + +<p> +Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the room and +quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable Youth, I had ever +beheld. The servant she kept to herself. +</p> + +<p> +My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the sufferings of +the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold him, than I felt that +on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life must depend. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0007"></a> +LETTER 6th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular +reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us that he was +the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for many years no more +and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My Father (he continued) is +a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such particular freinds as this +Dear Party that I would thus betray his failings. Your Virtues my amiable +Polydore (addressing himself to my father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my +Charming Laura call on me to repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. +“My Father seduced by the false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of +Title, insisted on my giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. +Lady Dorothea is lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, +that I scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it be +said that I obliged my Father.” +</p> + +<p> +We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with so +spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of wonder +(said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have been studying +Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have been beneath my +dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful William set forth for +my Aunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in +Middlesex, and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in +Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this +beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to have +reached my Aunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without knowing +which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the bitterest and most +pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a single star was there to +direct my steps, and I know not what might have befallen me had I not at length +discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom that surrounded me a distant light, +which as I approached it, I discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. +Impelled by the combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, +Cold and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have +gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when may I hope +to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have undergone during +the course of my attachment to you, to which I have ever aspired. Oh! when will +you reward me with Yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were +immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had +been bred to the Church. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0008"></a> +LETTER 7th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE</h2> + +<p> +We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske. After +taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my Isabel, I +accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa received us both +with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival was indeed a most +agreable surprise to her as she had not only been totally ignorant of my +Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had the slightest idea of there +being such a person in the World. +</p> + +<p> +Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I found +her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the middle size. +She received me with equal surprise though not with equal Cordiality, as +Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and Forbidding Reserve in her +reception of me which was equally distressing and Unexpected. None of that +interesting Sensibility or amiable simpathy in her manners and Address to me +when we first met which should have distinguished our introduction to each +other. Her Language was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of +regard were neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive +me to her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine. +</p> + +<p> +A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I accidentally +overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me that her Heart was no +more formed for the soft ties of Love than for the endearing intercourse of +Freindship. +</p> + +<p> +“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this +imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.) +</p> + +<p> +“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion of +me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to consider my +Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of Consequence or +concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you ever know me consult his +inclinations or follow his Advice in the least trifling Particular since the +age of fifteen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise. +Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years old, I +entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the satisfaction of +your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions of your being shortly +obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by seeking a support for your wife +in the Generosity of Sir Edward.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support! +What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” +(answered she.) +</p> + +<p> +“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous +Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for an +exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate +employment of Eating and Drinking?” +</p> + +<p> +“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta). +</p> + +<p> +“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta? +(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and corrupted +Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of living in every +distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of your tenderest +affection?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however you +may in time be convinced that...” +</p> + +<p> +Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the +appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the Room at the +Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her announced by the Name of +“Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post and followed her into +the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was the Lady, proposed as a Wife +for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting Baronet. +</p> + +<p> +Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, +yet I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and +arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it. +</p> + +<p> +I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and +tho’ Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of +Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined +Sensibility, of which Augusta was one. +</p> + +<p> +She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit, confided to +me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide in her, any of Mine. +You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne that I could not feel any +ardent affection or very sincere Attachment for Lady Dorothea. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0009"></a> +LETTER 8th<br/> +LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation</h2> + +<p> +Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected a one +as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed by Augusta of +her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him for having dared +to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But Edward foreseeing his design, +approached him with heroic fortitude as soon as he entered the Room, and +addressed him in the following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with +the base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble +engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the +Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of my +Father!” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta were +doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led me from the +Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the Door and in +which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir Edward. +</p> + +<p> +The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London road; as +soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them to Drive to +M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was +but a few miles distant. +</p> + +<p> +At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were +immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After having +been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for such I term +your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most truly worthy of the +Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most elegantly formed. A soft +languor spread over her lovely features, but increased their Beauty—. It +was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She was all sensibility and Feeling. +We flew into each others arms and after having exchanged vows of mutual +Freindship for the rest of our Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most +inward secrets of our Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull +Employment by the entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just +returned from a solitary ramble. +</p> + +<p> +Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward and +Augustus. +</p> + +<p> +“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable +angel!” (replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. +It was too pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted +alternately on a sofa. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0010"></a> +LETTER the 9th<br/> +From the same to the same</h2> + +<p> +Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from Philippa. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken +back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your charming +society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such dear and deserving +Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I trust you will return to +the arms of your” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Philippa.” +</p> + +<p> +We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after thanking her +for her kind invitation assured her that we would certainly avail ourselves of +it, whenever we might have no other place to go to. Tho’ certainly +nothing could to any reasonable Being, have appeared more satisfactory, than so +gratefull a reply to her invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was +certainly capricious enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few +weeks after, either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, +married a young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ +we were sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which +Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts, excite +from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might prove a source +of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling Sensibility was greatly +affected when we were first informed of the Event. The affectionate Entreaties +of Augustus and Sophia that we would for ever consider their House as our Home, +easily prevailed on us to determine never more to leave them, In the society of +my Edward and this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our +time was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and in +vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being interrupted, by +intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and Sophia had on their first +Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care to inform the surrounding +Families, that as their happiness centered wholly in themselves, they wished +for no other society. But alas! my Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then +enjoyed was too perfect to be lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at +once destroyed every sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what +I have already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were a +happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had been +contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents; who had +vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them into a Marriage +with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a Heroic Fortitude worthy to +be related and admired, they had both, constantly refused to submit to such +despotic Power. +</p> + +<p> +After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of Parental +Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined never to forfeit the +good opinion they had gained in the World, in so doing, by accepting any +proposals of reconciliation that might be offered them by their +Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble independance however they +never were exposed. +</p> + +<p> +They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced during +which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum of money which +Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy father’s Escritoire, +a few days before his union with Sophia. +</p> + +<p> +By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their +means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted +Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses and would +have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what was their +Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull Augustus was arrested +and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery in the merciless perpetrators +of the Deed will shock your gentle nature Dearest Marianne as much as it then +affected the Delicate sensibility of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of +Augustus himself. To compleat such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that +an Execution in the House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but +what we did! We sighed and fainted on the sofa. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0011"></a> +LETTER 10th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our grief, +Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent step to be +taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his imprisoned freind to +lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we would, and he set forwards on +his journey to Town. During his absence we faithfully complied with his Desire +and after the most mature Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we +could do was to leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers +of Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest +impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the result of +our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we count the tedious +moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain even did we +sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too unexpected a Blow +to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we could only +faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was Mistress of, I arose and +after packing up some necessary apparel for Sophia and myself, I dragged her to +a Carriage I had ordered and we instantly set out for London. As the Habitation +of Augustus was within twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we +arrived there, and no sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of +the Front Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed +“If they had seen my Edward?” +</p> + +<p> +But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated Enquiries, I +gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him. “Where am I to +drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth (replied I), +to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot go to +Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus in so cruel a +confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the <i>recital</i>, +of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my Sensibility.” As I +perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her Sentiments the Postilion was +instantly directed to return into the Country. You may perhaps have been +somewhat surprised my Dearest Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, +destitute of any support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never +once have remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of +Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a +trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never mentioned. The +death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is the circumstance I +allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull Inheritress of their House and +Fortune. But alas! the House had never been their own and their Fortune had +only been an Annuity on their own Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To +your Mother I should have returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to +have introduced to her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have +passed the remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had +not one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened; which +was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of Ireland. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0012"></a> +LETTER 11th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London) who +I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order +the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself, +exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the +Horses.” Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge +of the Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was +entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined to change +Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of the Journey—. +When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which was but a few miles +from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to intrude our Society on +him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very elegant and well penned Note +to him containing an account of our Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of +our intention to spend some months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had +dispatched this Letter, we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were +stepping into the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by +the Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman +considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first Appearance my +Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed at him a 2d +time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that he was my +Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my conjecture I +instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and following the +Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I threw myself on my +knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me as his Grand Child. He +started, and having attentively examined my features, raised me from the Ground +and throwing his Grand-fatherly arms around my Neck, exclaimed, +“Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance of my Laurina and Laurina’s +Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my Claudia’s Mother, I do +acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and the Grandaughter of the +other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing me, Sophia astonished at my +precipitate Departure, entered the Room in search of me. No sooner had she +caught the eye of the venerable Peer, than he exclaimed with every mark of +Astonishment—“Another Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the +Daughter of my Laurina’s eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous +Matilda sufficiently proclaims it. “Oh!” replied Sophia, +“when I first beheld you the instinct of Nature whispered me that we were +in some degree related—But whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could +not pretend to determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they +were tenderly embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull +young Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating +back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What +an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes, as many +of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my Laurina’s +3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence of Gustavus to +compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.” +</p> + +<p> +“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the +room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha your +Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed; +replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully +towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the House.” +“None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without +farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and +remember I have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the +Room and immediately afterwards the House. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0013"></a> +LETTER the 12th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure of Lord +St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy +Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. +How long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we +found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the Banknotes. As +we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the Apartment opened and +“Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin. The haste +with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of our Note, spoke +so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to pronounce him at first sight, +a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he little deserved the name—for +though he told us that he was much concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own +account it appeared that the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a +single sigh, nor induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive +stars—. He told Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with +him to Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy +to see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were received +with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and the Mistress of +the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally well disposed, endowed +with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic Disposition, she might, had these +amiable qualities been properly encouraged, have been an ornament to human +Nature; but unfortunately her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted +to admire so promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his +power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far +extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail on her +to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They were to be +married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when we arrived. +<i>We</i> soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man as one might +have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he was Sensible, +well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge of such trifles, but +as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had never read the sorrows of +Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least resemblance to auburn, we were +certain that Janetta could feel no affection for him, or at least that she +ought to feel none. The very circumstance of his being her father’s +choice too, was so much in his disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in +every other respect yet <i>that</i> of itself ought to have been a sufficient +reason in the Eyes of Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were +determined to represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting +with the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors in +the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her own opinion, +and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her indeed all that our +warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no difficulty to convince her that +it was impossible she could love Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her +Father; the only thing at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion +that she must be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered +in declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the smallest +Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a thing she said that +she beleived she <i>did like</i> Captain M’Kenrie better than any one she +knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after having enumerated the good +Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that she was violently in love with +him, we desired to know whether he had ever in any wise declared his affection +to her. +</p> + +<p> +“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that he +has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores +you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be +reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press your +hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” +“Never (replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room +indeed when his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly +abruptly or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be +mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left +you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a moment +Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose that he could +ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having settled this +Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into consideration was, to +determine in what manner we should inform M’Kenrie of the favourable +Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at length agreed to acquaint him with +it by an anonymous Letter which Sophia drew up in the following manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of +<i>her</i> Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a +confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider that a +few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that you may now +entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her father’s Cruelty to +the execrable and detested Graham.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of her +and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had doubtless long +possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once secure the felicity of +both.” +</p> + +<p> +The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had been +the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of his affection +for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings of Love to +Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to her who inspired +it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia and I experienced the +satisfaction of seeing them depart for Gretna-Green, which they chose for the +celebration of their Nuptials, in preference to any other place although it was +at a considerable distance from Macdonald-Hall. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0014"></a> +LETTER the 13th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or Graham +had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not even then have +suspected it, but for the following little Accident. Sophia happening one day +to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s Library with one of her own keys, +discovered that it was the Place where he kept his Papers of consequence and +amongst them some bank notes of considerable amount. This discovery she +imparted to me; and having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment +of so vile a Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly +gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us happen to +go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from the drawer. This +well meant Plan we had often successfully put in Execution; but alas! on the +very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was majestically removing the 5th +Bank-note from the Drawer to her own purse, she was suddenly most impertinently +interrupted in her employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most +abrupt and precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning +sweetness could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex) +instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on the +undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore her +retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing Macdonald, +without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the crime he was charged +with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with ignobly defrauding him of his +money... The dignity of Sophia was wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, +hastily replacing the Bank-note in the Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of +an Act, of which the bare idea makes me blush?” The base wretch was still +unconvinced and continued to upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such +opprobious Language, that at length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness +of her Nature, as to induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of +Janetta’s Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the +affair. At this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you +may imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of the +malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I) how +canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless reputation of such +bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect <i>my</i> innocence as +soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I <i>do</i> suspect it, and +therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less than half an +hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested +thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have induced us to +remain so long beneath thy roof.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully exerted +by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled Fortune-hunter.” +(replied he) +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some +consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta, we have +amply discharged every obligation that we have received from her father.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted +minds.” (said he.) +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left Macdonald Hall, +and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate down by the side of a +clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted limbs. The place was suited to +meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms sheltered us from the East—. A Bed +of full-grown Nettles from the West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook +and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and +in a Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had for +some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my +exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and +Augustus here to enjoy its Beauties with us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear +recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. +Alas, what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he is +still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to +conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do not I beseech you +ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—. It affects me too +deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it wounds my +feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended +you—” replied I—and then changing the conversation, desired +her to admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the +Eastern Zephyr. “Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a +subject, I intreat you. Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on +those elms. They remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, +magestic—he possessed that noble grandeur which you admire in +them.” +</p> + +<p> +I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her by fixing +on any other subject of conversation which might again remind her of Augustus. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I +cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own reflections; they +ever recur to Augustus.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by +those delicate streaks of white!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a momentary +glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my Attention to an object +which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s blue sattin waistcoat +striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind avoid a subject so +distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of Sophia were at that time +so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for Augustus so poignant that I had +not power to start any other topic, justly fearing that it might in some +unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility by directing her thoughts to +her Husband. Yet to be silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. +</p> + +<p> +From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly apropos; +it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the road which +ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as it diverted the +attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections which she had been before +indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue of those who +but a few moments before had been in so elevated a situation as a fashionably +high Phaeton, but who were now laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What +an ample subject for reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, +would not that Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking +Mind!” said I to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action. +</p> + +<p> +She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the horrid +spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but weltering in +their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we approached—they were +Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they were our Husbands. Sophia +shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed and instantly ran +mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our senses, some minutes, and +on regaining them were deprived of them again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we +continue in this unfortunate situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I +running mad as often. At length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone +retained any share of life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before +imagined that either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our +Greif—but as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no +more, we knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No +sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our +lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and kneeling on +each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He fixing +his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.” +</p> + +<p> +I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what +has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested and we +were separated—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, +Expired—. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon—. <i>My</i> +greif was more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my +face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—. +</p> + +<p> +“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent +manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in +his melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s +Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of +Firs—I see a Leg of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but +they deceived me—they took him for a cucumber—” Thus I +continued wildly exclaiming on my Edward’s Death—. For two Hours +did I rave thus madly and should not then have left off, as I was not in the +least fatigued, had not Sophia who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated +me to consider that Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. +“And whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” +“To that white Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building +which rose up amidst the grove of Elms and which I had not before +observed—) I agreed and we instantly walked to it—we knocked at the +door—it was opened by an old woman; on being requested to afford us a +Night’s Lodging, she informed us that her House was but small, that she +had only two Bedrooms, but that However we should be wellcome to one of them. +We were satisfied and followed the good woman into the House where we were +greatly cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and +had only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of +ages; but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing +therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to possess +either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined Sensibilities—. She +was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil and obliging young woman; as +such we could scarcely dislike here—she was only an Object of +Contempt—. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0015"></a> +LETTER the 14th<br/> +LAURA in continuation</h2> + +<p> +Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are Mistress +of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the perusal of the +following Pages your sensibility will be most severely tried. Ah! what were the +misfortunes I had before experienced and which I have already related to you, +to the one I am now going to inform you of. The Death of my Father and my +Mother and my Husband though almost more than my gentle Nature could support, +were trifles in comparison to the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The +morning after our arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain +in her delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake She attributed +it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the Dew was +falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably the case; since +how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should have escaped the same +indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily Exertions I had undergone in my +repeated fits of frenzy had so effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to +make me proof against the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying +totally inactive on the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I +was most seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to +you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End be fatal +to her. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually worse—and +I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was obliged to confine +herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy Landlady—. Her +disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few days carried her off. +Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent you may suppose they were) I +yet received some consolation in the reflection of my having paid every +attention to her, that could be offered, in her illness. I had wept over her +every Day—had bathed her sweet face with my tears and had pressed her +fair Hands continually in mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me +a few Hours before she died) take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the +imprudent conduct which had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though +at the time they may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the +end, if too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your +Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my greif for +the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life.. Beware of swoons +Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise +to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say conducive to Health in its +consequences—Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not +faint—” +</p> + +<p> +These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing Advice +to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to it. +</p> + +<p> +After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I immediately +(tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she died, and +near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not walked many yards +from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in which I instantly took a +place, determined to proceed in it to Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some +kind some pitying Freind who would receive and comfort me in my afflictions. +</p> + +<p> +It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish the Number +of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they were many. Regardless +however of anything concerning them, I gave myself up to my own sad +Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A silence, which was by nothing +interrupted but by the loud and repeated snores of one of the Party. +</p> + +<p> +“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself) What +a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus shock our senses +by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be capable of every bad action! +There is no crime too black for such a Character!” Thus reasoned I within +myself, and doubtless such were the reflections of my fellow travellers. +</p> + +<p> +At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled Scoundrel who +had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward the father of my +Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the same seat with me were +your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my surprise at finding myself thus +seated amongst my old Acquaintance. Great as was my astonishment, it was yet +increased, when on looking out of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, +with Philippa by his side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, +Philander and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it +possible that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations +and Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye +was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I +throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more to your +Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the Vale of Usk, I +was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had then a Father and a +Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now deprived of every freind +but you—” +</p> + +<p> +“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat +you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, +(replied I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory +in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her +conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and Sir +Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole melancholy +affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of Sir Edward +and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow, by the unhappy +tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them every other misfortune +which had befallen me since we parted. Of the imprisonment of Augustus and the +absence of Edward—of our arrival in Scotland—of our unexpected +Meeting with our Grand-father and our cousins—of our visit to +Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there performed towards +Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his inhuman Behaviour, +unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of us, in obliging us to +leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss of Edward and Augustus and +finally of the melancholy Death of my beloved Companion. +</p> + +<p> +Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s countenance, +during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say, that to the eternal +reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely predominated. Nay, faultless +as my conduct had certainly been during the whole course of my late misfortunes +and adventures, she pretended to find fault with my behaviour in many of the +situations in which I had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had +always behaved in a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and +Refinement, I paid little attention to what she said, and desired her to +satisfy my Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my +spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had complyed +with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate detail of every +thing that had befallen her since our separation (the particulars of which if +you are not already acquainted with, your Mother will give you) I applied to +Augusta for the same information respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady +Dorothea. +</p> + +<p> +She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of Nature, her +curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in that part of the +World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the Highlands, that she +had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to Scotland and had persuaded +Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days +before and from thence had made daily Excursions into the Country around in the +Stage Coach they were then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that +time returning. My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the +latter of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for +subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled, namely, +Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to them except their +Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to be removed from any of his +former Acquaintance, had driven it to Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling +every other Day. That Philippa still retaining her affection for her +ungratefull Husband, had followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him +in his little Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little +money into their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always +travelled in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival +in Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to +visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from Edinburgh to +Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in a crowded and +uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her sentiments on +the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus sacrificing his +Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old woman whose folly in +marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His Behaviour however was +entirely of a peice with his general Character; for what could be expected from +a man who possessed not the smallest atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the +meaning of simpathy, and who actually snored—. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0016"></a> +LETTER the 15th<br/> +LAURA in continuation.</h2> + +<p> +When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was determined to +speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as soon as I left the +Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired after their Health, +expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their situation. At first they seemed +rather confused at my appearance dreading no doubt that I might call them to +account for the money which our Grandfather had left me and which they had +unjustly deprived me of, but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, +they desired me to step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater +ease. Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring +green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined and +sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them of every +thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and at my request +they related to me every incident of theirs. +</p> + +<p> +“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters which +Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers could neither +of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it is generally beleived +that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a Bricklayer and that my Father +was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of Edinburgh. This is however of little +consequence for as our Mothers were certainly never married to either of them +it reflects no Dishonour on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and +unpolluted kind. Bertha (the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) +always lived together. They were neither of them very rich; their united +fortunes had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had +always lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to +nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of the +Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the convenience of having +it always at Hand. Whether it was from this circumstance, of its being easily +taken, or from a wish of being independant, or from an excess of sensibility +(for which we were always remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is +that when we had reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran +away. Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with eoconomy +and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this purpose we +therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we devoted to Victuals, +the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th to Carriages, the 5th to +Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the +9th to Silver Buckles. Having thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we +expected to make the nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London +and had the good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner +than we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves +from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our +Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death, we gave +over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some strolling Company of +Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage. Accordingly we offered our +services to one and were accepted; our Company was indeed rather small, as it +consisted only of the Manager his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to +pay and the only inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for +want of People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind +trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was +<i>Macbeth</i>, in which we were truly great. The Manager always played +<i>Banquo</i> himself, his Wife my <i>Lady Macbeth</i>. I did the <i>Three +Witches</i> and Philander acted <i>all the rest</i>. To say the truth this +tragedy was not only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and +after having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to +exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be quartered in +that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—. We were in the +Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the arms to whom it +belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our Grandfather, we agreed to +endeavour to get something from him by discovering the Relationship—. You +know how well it succeeded—. Having obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we +instantly left the Town, leaving our Manager and his Wife to act <i>Macbeth</i> +by themselves, and took the road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune +with great <i>eclat</i>. We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some +preferment in the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.” +</p> + +<p> +I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after +expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in their little +Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who impatiently expected me. +</p> + +<p> +My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least for the +present. +</p> + +<p> +When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of his son, +he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a year. I graciously +promised that I would, but could not help observing that the unsimpathetic +Baronet offered it more on account of my being the Widow of Edward than in +being the refined and amiable Laura. +</p> + +<p> +I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of Scotland where +I have ever since continued, and where I can uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, +indulge in a melancholy solitude, my unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my +Father, my Mother, my Husband and my Freind. +</p> + +<p> +Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all others most +suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her stay in Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the same +time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered. +</p> + +<p> +Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their +Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent Garden, +where they still exhibit under the assumed names of <i>Luvis</i> and +<i>Quick</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still continues +to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu my Dearest Marianne.<br/> +Laura. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis +</p> + +<p class="right"> +June 13th 1790. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0017"></a> +LESLEY CASTLE<br/> +AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS</h2> + +<p class="center"> +To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre. +</p> + +<p> +Sir +</p> + +<p> +I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me with of +dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I greive; yet fear +that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as it is carried, it should +be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is another concern to your obliged +humble +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Servant<br/> +The Author +</p> + +<p> +Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one +hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. T. Austen +</p> + +<p> +£105. 0. 0. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0018"></a> +LESLEY CASTLE</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0019"></a> +LETTER the FIRST is from<br/> +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792. +</p> + +<p> +My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and +Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one, that she +might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and amiable +Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these words—the +remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the Maternal character and so +openly violated the conjugal Duties, prevented his adding anything farther; he +embraced his sweet Child and after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from +us and seating himself in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was +there a better young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has +experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife! for you +know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her Child and +reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and dishonour. Never was +there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less amiable Heart than Louisa owned! +Her child already possesses the personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she +inherit from her Father all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and +twenty, and has already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a +difference between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the +Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that his Son +was really about five years back, and that <i>he</i> has affected to appear +ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about the streets of +London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of 57, Matilda and I +continue secluded from Mankind in our old and Mouldering Castle, which is +situated two miles from Perth on a bold projecting Rock, and commands an +extensive veiw of the Town and its delightful Environs. But tho’ retired +from almost all the World, (for we visit no one but the M’Leods, The +M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the M’Cartneys, the +M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays, +the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the contrary +there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty girls, than we +are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We read, we work, we +walk, and when fatigued with these Employments releive our spirits, either by a +lively song, a graceful Dance, or by some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We +are handsome my dear Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our +Perfections is, that we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I +thus dwell on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice +the innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as she +reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years old; as +handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as +prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you that +she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she already knows +the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never tears her +frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense and +Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion, and you will +therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming to Lesley-Castle, +and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine for yourself. Ah! my dear +Freind, how happy should I be to see you within these venerable Walls! It is +now four years since my removal from School has separated me from you; that two +such tender Hearts, so closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and +Freindship, should be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I +live in Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father +disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the same time. +We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else indeed, could we but be +at the same place together. We have only to hope that such a period may arrive. +My Father does not return to us till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in +a few Days; he is impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters +himself that change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will +join with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of the +unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to that of +your sincere freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. Lesley. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0020"></a> +LETTER the SECOND<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.</h2> + +<p> +Glenford Febry 12 +</p> + +<p> +I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking you my +dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should not have +deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the last five weeks been +so fully employed in the necessary arrangements for my sisters wedding, as to +allow me no time to devote either to you or myself. And now what provokes me +more than anything else is that the Match is broke off, and all my Labour +thrown away. Imagine how great the Dissapointment must be to me, when you +consider that after having laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get +the Wedding dinner ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, +Broiled Mutton, and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through +the Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been Roasting, +Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose. Indeed my dear +Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to what I experienced on +last Monday when my sister came running to me in the store-room with her face +as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me that Hervey had been thrown from his +Horse, had fractured his Scull and was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the +most emminent Danger. “Good God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in +the name of Heaven will become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to +eat it while it is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I +shall be able to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and +You and the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by +seeing my poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests, +where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the Maids, +and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she was sensible, +she expressed a determination of going instantly to Henry, and was so wildly +bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest Difficulty in the World to +prevent her putting it in execution; at last however more by Force than +Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her room; we laid her upon the Bed, and +she continued for some Hours in the most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I +continued in the room with her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure +in Eloisa would allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful +Waste in our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some +plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do was to +begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the cold Ham and +Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with great Alacrity. We +would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of a Chicken, but she would +not be persuaded. She was however much quieter than she had been; the +convulsions she had before suffered having given way to an almost perfect +Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by every means in our power, but to +no purpose. I talked to her of Henry. “Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s +no occasion for your crying so much about such a trifle. (for I was willing to +make light of it in order to comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You +see it does not vex me in the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it +after all; for I shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have +dressed already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very +likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he will) I +shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry any one else. +So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may afflict you to think +of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die soon, and then his +pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my Trouble will last much +longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain that the pantry cannot be +cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did all in my power to console +her, but without any effect, and at last as I saw that she did not seem to +listen to me, I said no more, but leaving her with my Mother I took down the +remains of The Ham and Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was +not expected to live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible +care to break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in +spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too violent for +her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high Delirium. She is still +extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly afraid of her going into a +Decline. We are therefore preparing for Bristol, where we mean to be in the +course of the next week. And now my dear Margaret let me talk a little of your +affairs; and in the first place I must inform you that it is confidently +reported, your Father is going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so +unpleasing a report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have +written to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as +she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not who is +the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the resolution he has +taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to obliterate from his +remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have lately so much afflicted +him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from all the World, +neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may never know what +it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely affectionate +</p> + +<p class="right"> +C.L. +</p> + +<p> +P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan, which I +enclose to you, and on which you will make your own reflections. +</p> + +<p> +The enclosed LETTER +</p> + +<p> +My dear CHARLOTTE +</p> + +<p> +You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir George +Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I am. Sir George +is certainly married; I was myself present at the Ceremony, which you will not +be surprised at when I subscribe myself your +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Affectionate<br/> +Susan Lesley +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0021"></a> +LETTER the THIRD<br/> +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley Castle February the 16th +</p> + +<p> +I <i>have</i> made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my Dear +Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I reflected that +if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a second family, our fortunes +must be considerably diminushed—that if his Wife should be of an +extravagant turn, she would encourage him to persevere in that gay and +Dissipated way of Life to which little encouragement would be necessary, and +which has I fear already proved but too detrimental to his health and +fortune—that she would now become Mistress of those Jewels which once +adorned our Mother, and which Sir George had always promised us—that if +they did not come into Perthshire I should not be able to gratify my curiosity +of beholding my Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit +at the head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were +the melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing +Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she +had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately occupied +her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most, whether the +probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own Consequence. We both wish very +much to know whether Lady Lesley is handsome and what is your opinion of her; +as you honour her with the appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves +that she must be amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it +in a few Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull +manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his Health and +Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa with any degree +either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself obliged to her for her +Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be single again. By this, you may +perceive that he has entirely regained that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, +for which he was once so remarkable. When he first became acquainted with +Louisa which was little more than three years ago, he was one of the most +lively, the most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet +heard the particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our +cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the +Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa Burton was +the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who dieing a few Months +before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then about eighteen to the +protection of any of his Relations who would protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the +only one who found herself so disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from +a miserable Cottage in Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from +every pecuniary Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment +that Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and +Cunning; but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the +appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew, that to +be married, would be the only chance she would have of not being starved, and +who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary share of personal beauty, +joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an engaging address, she might stand a +good chance of pleasing some young Man who might afford to marry a girl without +a Shilling. Louisa perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was +determined to forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of +Perseverance and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her +natural disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose +upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her discovered +her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley first beheld her at +Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your favourite comparison) was as +delicate as sweet and as tender as a Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her +attractions. In a very few Days, he was falling in love, shortly after actually +fell, and before he had known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at +first highly displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he +found that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the +match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the bounty of his +great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely sufficient to support him +and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the first twelvemonth, no one could be +happier than Lesley, and no one more amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so +plausibly did she act and so cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I +often spent several weeks together with them, yet we neither of us had any +suspicion of her real Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one +would have thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she +had so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then +thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did indeed appear +if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she seemed to take no pains to +prevent that affection from ever diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, +were now less frequent and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our +absence was however never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the +society of young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at +one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of Matilda +and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter girls than we +are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial happiness; I will not repeat +it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I have not yet mentioned anything +of the matter, I hope you will do me the justice to beleive that I <i>think</i> +and <i>feel</i>, a great deal for your Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but +that the healthy air of the Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing +from her Mind the remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0022"></a> +LETTER the FOURTH<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</h2> + +<p> +Bristol February 27th +</p> + +<p> +My Dear Peggy</p> + +<p> +I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex while I +was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from some +unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return you many +thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance, Love and +Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me for having often +been repeated to me before. +</p> + +<p> +I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to imagine +our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left Particular orders with +the servants to eat as hard as they possibly could, and to call in a couple of +Chairwomen to assist them. We brought a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold +tongue, and half a dozen Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the +help of our Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in +less than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very indifferent +both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air of the Bristol +downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor Henry from her +remembrance. +</p> + +<p> +You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I will +now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms. She is +short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a good deal; has +fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let you know as soon as she +sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is remarkably good-tempered when +she has her own way, and very lively when she is not out of humour. She is +naturally extravagant and not very affected; she never reads anything but the +letters she receives from me, and never writes anything but her answers to +them. She plays, sings and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in +none, tho’ she says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may +flatter me so far as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little +affection should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our +freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine. We spent +two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom we both happened +to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being remarkably bad, and +our party particularly stupid, she was so good as to conceive a violent +partiality for me, which very soon settled in a downright Freindship and ended +in an established correspondence. She is probably by this time as tired of me, +as I am of her; but as she is too Polite and I am too civil to say so, our +letters are still as frequent and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as +firm and sincere as when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the +pleasures of London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some +difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I dare say +she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those favourite haunts +of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable gloom of the castle you +inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her health impaired by too much +amusement, she may acquire fortitude sufficient to undertake a Journey to +Scotland in the hope of its Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not +conducive to her happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your +father’s extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your +Sister’s consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My +freind herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as much +every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will +certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living to +which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some reason to +fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune at all. The Jewels +I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and there is too much reason to +think that she will preside at her Husbands table in preference to his +Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject must necessarily extremely distress +you, I will no longer dwell on it—. +</p> + +<p> +Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a +season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family since we +came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill health of their +little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may imagine that being the only +family with whom we can converse, we are of course on a footing of intimacy +with them; we see them indeed almost every day, and dined with them yesterday. +We spent a very pleasant Day, and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure +the Veal was terribly underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not +help wishing all dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A +brother of Mrs Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a +good-looking young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I +tell Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem to +relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and Cleveland has a +very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not consider <i>myself</i> +as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but to tell you the truth I +never wish to act a more principal part at a Wedding than the superintending +and directing the Dinner, and therefore while I can get any of my acquaintance +to marry for me, I shall never think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect +that I should not have so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for +dressing that of my freinds. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yours sincerely<br/> +C. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0023"></a> +LETTER the FIFTH<br/> +Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley-Castle March 18th +</p> + +<p> +On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received one +from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us that he should +do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us on the following +evening. This as you may suppose considerably surprised us, particularly as +your account of her Ladyship had given us reason to imagine there was little +chance of her visiting Scotland at a time that London must be so gay. As it was +our business however to be delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit +from Sir George and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer +expressive of the happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when +luckily recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it +would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left Edinburgh, we +contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we were as happy as we +ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the following day, they came, +accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers. Her Ladyship perfectly answers the +description you sent me of her, except that I do not think her so pretty as you +seem to consider her. She has not a bad face, but there is something so +extremely unmajestic in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in +comparison with the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant +Dwarf. Her curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more +than four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins to +mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her. We cannot +refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of our Father, and +thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is certainly one of the most +pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not yet determined when we are to go, +but when ever we do we shall certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my +dear Charlotte; Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours +ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0024"></a> +LETTER the SIXTH<br/> +LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Lesley-Castle March 20th +</p> + +<p> +We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already heartily +repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square for such a dismal +old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no idea sufficiently hideous, +of its dungeon-like form. It is actually perched upon a Rock to appearance so +totally inaccessible, that I expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and +sincerely repented having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the +expence of being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a +manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside of this +tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having my spirits +revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the Miss Lesleys had +been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again, I met with nothing but +Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, +out of the way, over-grown, girls, just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle +almost as large in comparison as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you +could but behold these Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of +your wits. They will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to +accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight. Besides +these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who I beleive is +some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave me a long rigmerole +story of her father and a Miss <i>Somebody</i> which I have entirely forgot. I +hate scandal and detest Children. I have been plagued ever since I came here +with tiresome visits from a parcel of Scotch wretches, with terrible +hard-names; they were so civil, gave me so many invitations, and talked of +coming again so soon, that I could not help affronting them. I suppose I shall +not see them any more, and yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do +not know what to do with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no +Drawings but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate +everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett with a +great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there is not a +creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have just had a +conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly offended me, and which as +I have nothing more entertaining to send you I will gave you the particulars +of. You must know that I have for these 4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected +William of entertaining a partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that +had <i>I</i> been inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have +made choice of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is +nothing I hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for +some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is +not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a very +great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to see him +unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry Matilda, as moreover +I know that his circumstances will not allow him to marry any one without a +fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely dependant on her Father, who will +neither have his own inclination nor my permission to give her anything at +present, I thought it would be doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let +him know as much, in order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer +his passion, or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone +with him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause to +him in the following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I do +not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me partial to +the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They are indeed so +very like Sir George that it is natural to think”— +</p> + +<p> +“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do not +really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is so very +plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I was +speaking—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is +horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.” +</p> + +<p> +“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with +respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband so +deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see any +resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion perfectly +unlike him and perfectly Handsome.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no +proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and very +handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is very +plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very +unpleasing in a Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be +very plain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he). +</p> + +<p> +“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about <i>his</i> Beauty, but +your opinion of his <i>Daughters</i> is surely very singular, for if I +understood you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected +to do!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, do <i>you</i> find them plainer then?” (said I). +</p> + +<p> +“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak of +their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss Lesleys +are two very handsome young Women?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!” +</p> + +<p> +“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why what +single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly find fault +with?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the +eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I +could when I said it, in order to shame him). +</p> + +<p> +“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of +one, would be the faults of both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!” +</p> + +<p> +“They are <i>taller</i> than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy +smile.) +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, +their figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are +beautifull.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least +degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never could +strain my neck enough to look at them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in not +attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their Lustre.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure you +my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what +followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given me just +cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he said) “You +must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have offended you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head! +(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least surprised at +your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these girls.”— +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet concluded +our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with their +complexion?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are so horridly pale.” +</p> + +<p> +“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is +considerably heightened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of the +world, they will never be able raise more than their common stock—except +indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down these horrid old +galleries and Antichambers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an +impertinent look at me) if they <i>have</i> but little colour, at least, it is +all their own.” +</p> + +<p> +This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the impudence +by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine. But you I am sure +will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it so cruelly aspersed, for +you can witness how often I have protested against wearing Rouge, and how much +I always told you I disliked it. And I assure you that my opinions are still +the same.—. Well, not bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left +the room immediately, and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing +to you. What a long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to +receive such from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that +one has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much +vexed by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to +stay and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had +first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I am now +so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her, that I am +certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I shall there fore give +myself no more trouble either about him or his favourite. Adeiu my dear +girl— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yrs affectionately Susan L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0025"></a> +LETTER the SEVENTH<br/> +From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY</h2> + +<p> +Bristol the 27th of March +</p> + +<p> +I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this week which +have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are both downright +jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two pretty Women tho’ +actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same House without falling out +about their faces. Do be convinced that you are both perfectly handsome and say +no more of the Matter. I suppose this letter must be directed to Portman Square +where probably (great as is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be +sorry to find yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields +and the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must be +very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my Mother’s +income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during Winter. I always +longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether the cold Beef there is +cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly suspicion that few people +understand the art of cutting a slice of cold Beef so well as I do: nay it +would be hard if I did not know something of the Matter, for it was a part of +my Education that I took by far the most pains with. Mama always found me +<i>her</i> best scholar, tho’ when Papa was alive Eloisa was <i>his</i>. +Never to be sure were there two more different Dispositions in the World. We +both loved Reading. <i>She</i> preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved +drawing, Pictures, and I drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than +she, and no one make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued +since we have been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes +on the superior excellence of our Employments <i>then</i> so frequent are now +no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to admire each +other’s works; I never fail listening to <i>her</i> Music, and she is as +constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till Henry Hervey made +his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his Aunt in our neighbourhood +where she established herself you know about a twelvemonth ago, his visits to +her had been at stated times, and of equal and settled Duration; but on her +removal to the Hall which is within a walk from our House, they became both +more frequent and longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs +Diana who is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum +and Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and Good-breeding. +Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour that I have often heard +her give such hints of it before his face that had not Henry at such times been +engaged in conversation with Eloisa, they must have caught his Attention and +have very much distressed him. The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I +have before hinted at, now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of +admiring each others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ +I constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even a +pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of approbation. +This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion; however, I was as cool +as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and concerted a scheme of Revenge, +I was determined to let her have her own way and not even to make her a single +reproach. My scheme was to treat her as she treated me, and tho’ she +might even draw my own Picture or play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever +really liked) not to say so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ +I had for many years constantly hollowed whenever she played, <i>Bravo</i>, +<i>Bravissimo</i>, <i>her</i>, <i>Da capo</i>, <i>allegretto con +expressione</i>, and <i>Poco presto</i> with many other such outlandish words, +all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my Admiration; and so indeed I +suppose they are, as I see some of them in every Page of every Music book, +being the sentiments I imagine of the composer. +</p> + +<p> +I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for alas! my +silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease her; on the +contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I am very glad +to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous custom of applauding my +Execution on the Harpsichord till you made <i>my</i> head ake, and yourself +hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for keeping your admiration to +yourself.” I never shall forget the very witty answer I made to this +speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be quite at your Ease with +respect to all such fears in future, for be assured that I shall always keep my +admiration to myself and my own pursuits and never extend it to yours.” +This was the only very severe thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have +often felt myself extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my +feelings public. +</p> + +<p> +I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection for +each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for Miss Burton +could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You may imagine +therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him play her such a +trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with undiminished constancy, +notwithstanding he has been dead more than six weeks; but some People mind such +things more than others. The ill state of Health into which his loss has thrown +her makes her so weak, and so unable to support the least exertion, that she +has been in tears all this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. +Marlowe who with her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this +morning. I am sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom +we have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure Eloisa +and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and have therefore +contracted a kind of affection for each other, which does not make Tears so +inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The Marlowes are going to Town; +Cliveland accompanies them; as neither Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you +or Matilda may have better Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, +Eloisa’s spirits are so low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is +certainly by no means mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope +determine our Measures—in the mean time believe me +</p> + +<p class="right"> +and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0026"></a> +LETTER the EIGHTH<br/> +Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE</h2> + +<p> +Bristol April 4th +</p> + +<p> +I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of your +affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you made me of our +Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great releif to me to write to +you and as long as my Health and Spirits will allow me, you will find me a very +constant correspondent; I will not say an entertaining one, for you know my +situation suffciently not to be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and +I know my own Heart too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You +must not expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least +acquainted, or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect +scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from hearing or +inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the melancholy +effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the Happiness it once +enjoyed and which ill supports its present wretchedness. The Possibility of +being able to write, to speak, to you of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, +and your goodness will not I know refuse to read what it will so much releive +my Heart to write. I once thought that to have what is in general called a +Freind (I mean one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than +to any other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my +wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by two +confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of one to me, and +I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I say that to have some +kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to my sorrows without +endeavouring to console me was what I had for some time wished for, when our +acquaintance with you, the intimacy which followed it and the particular +affectionate attention you paid me almost from the first, caused me to +entertain the flattering Idea of those attentions being improved on a closer +acquaintance into a Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you +would be the greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that +such Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is now +almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid that +I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off writing, and I +cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you than by acting, as I +know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or Present. I am my dear Emmas +sincere freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. L. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0027"></a> +LETTER the NINTH<br/> +Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Grosvenor Street, April 10th +</p> + +<p> +Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot give a +greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the Desire I feel that +our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than by setting you so good an +example as I now do in answering it before the end of the week—. But do +not imagine that I claim any merit in being so punctual; on the contrary I +assure you, that it is a far greater Gratification to me to write to you, than +to spend the Evening either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous +of my appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like +to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home, that +independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion of my Time to +my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a letter to write of +spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you know me well enough to be +sensible, will of itself be a sufficient Inducement (if one is necessary) to my +maintaining with Pleasure a Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your +letters to me, whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally +interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of your own +sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will only encourage and +increase them, and that it will be more prudent in you to avoid so sad a +subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing and melancholy Pleasure it +must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself to deny you so great an Indulgence, +and will only insist on your not expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own +letters; on the contrary I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and +enlivening Humour as shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull +countenance of my Eloisa. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three freinds +Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have been here. I know +you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the Beauty of three Ladies of whom +you have heard so much. Now, as you are too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I +think I may venture to inform you that I like none of their faces so well as I +do your own. Yet they are all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen +before; her Daughters I beleive would in general be said to have a finer face +than her Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a +little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which she is +superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself as many admirers +as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret. I am sure you will agree +with me in saying that they can none of them be of a proper size for real +Beauty, when you know that two of them are taller and the other shorter than +ourselves. In spite of this Defect (or rather by reason of it) there is +something very noble and majestic in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and +something agreably lively in the appearance of their pretty little +Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may be majestic and the other lively, yet the +faces of neither possess that Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her +present languor is so far from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother +say of us, if they knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this +letter. It is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by +any one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either +her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more amiable are +women in that particular! One man may say forty civil things to another without +our supposing that he is ever paid for it, and provided he does his Duty by our +sex, we care not how Polite he is to his own. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte, my Love, +and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and Spirits that can +be offered by her affectionate Freind +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. Marlowe. +</p> + +<p> +I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the witty +way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when I assure you +that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0028"></a> +LETTER the TENTH<br/> +From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL</h2> + +<p> +Portman Square April 13th +</p> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> C<small>HARLOTTE</small> +</p> + +<p> +We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in London +after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding your Letter here +waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I +every day more regret the serene and tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have +left, in exchange for the uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted +City. Not that I will pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal +Amusements are in the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy +them extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that every +appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those unhappy Beings +whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is out of my power to +return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my sensibility for the sufferings of +so many amiable young Men, my Dislike of the extreme admiration I meet with, +and my aversion to being so celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, +and in Printshops, that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the +Amusements so various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I +possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as +inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as yours! But +ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I have had the +small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate. +</p> + +<p> +I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has long +disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to require the +most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night Matilda and I +accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs Kickabout’s; we +were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable young Man in the main, +tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He is in love with +Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the Lady of the House +and curtseyed to half a score different people when my Attention was attracted +by the appearance of a Young Man the most lovely of his Sex, who at that moment +entered the Room with another Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I +beheld him, I was certain that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. +Imagine my surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of +Cleveland—I instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and +the acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the gentleman +and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) The +elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners and Delightful Bow, at +once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; but I can imagine everything he +would have said, had he opened his Mouth. I can picture to myself the +cultivated Understanding, the Noble sentiments, and elegant Language which +would have shone so conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The +approach of Sir James Gower (one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the +Discovery of any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never +commenced, and by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are +the accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! Sir +James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost always of our +Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no Cleveland—he +is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues me to Death every time +I see her by her tiresome Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! +I live in the hope of seeing her irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going +to Lady Flambeaus, who is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be +Lady Lesley, Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of +Sir George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune where +art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes her appearance +(highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful Jewels will she be decked +in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I wonder how she can herself +delight in wearing them; surely she must be sensible of the ridiculous +impropriety of loading her little diminutive figure with such superfluous +ornaments; is it possible that she can not know how greatly superior an elegant +simplicity is to the most studied apparel? Would she but Present them to +Matilda and me, how greatly should we be obliged to her, How becoming would +Diamonds be on our fine majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an +Idea should never have occurred to <i>her</i>. I am sure if I have reflected in +this manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in +them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s Jewels +too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me entertain +you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this morning from +Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he is at Naples has +turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s Bulls for annulling his +1st Marriage and has since actually married a Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and +Fortune. He tells us moreover that much the same sort of affair has befallen +his first wife the worthless Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned +Roman-catholic, and is soon to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and +Distinguished merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have +quite forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good Neighbours. +He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and to bring him his +little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and himself are equally +desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his invitation, it is at Present +very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to go without loss of time; Fitzgerald +offers to escort us there, but Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such +a scheme—she owns it would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the +Fellow. My Father desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few +months both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending us. +Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the Amusements +of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our Brother. “No +(says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been fool enough to travel +I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of the Family, and I found it did +not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I am so foolish again.” So says her +Ladyship, but Sir George still Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or +two, they may accompany us. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Adeiu my Dear Charlotte<br/> +Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0029"></a> +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND</h2> + +<h3>FROM<br/> +THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH<br/> +TO<br/> +THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST</h3> + +<p class="center"> +BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is +inscribed with all due respect by +</p> + +<p class="right"> +THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p> +N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 4th +</p> + +<p> +Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own satisfaction in +the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and predecessor Richard the +2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the rest of his life to Pomfret +Castle, where he happened to be murdered. It is to be supposed that Henry was +married, since he had certainly four sons, but it is not in my power to inform +the Reader who was his wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but +falling ill, his son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; +whereupon the King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to +Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being thus +settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son Henry who had +previously beat Sir William Gascoigne. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 5th +</p> + +<p> +This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and amiable, +forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing Sir William again. +During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I forget what for. His +Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where he went and fought the famous +Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards married the King’s daughter Catherine, +a very agreable woman by Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this +however he died, and was succeeded by his son Henry. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 6th +</p> + +<p> +I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for +he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him and the +Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had better read some +other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in this, meaning by it only to +vent my spleen <i>against</i>, and shew my Hatred <i>to</i> all those people +whose parties or principles do not suit with mine, and not to give information. +This King married Margaret of Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes +were so great as almost to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign +that Joan of Arc lived and made such a <i>row</i> among the English. They +should not have burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles +between the Yorkists and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) +usually conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was +murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the +Throne. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 4th +</p> + +<p> +This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which the +Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in marrying one +Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient proofs. His Wife was +Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was afterwards confined in a +Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and Avarice Henry the 7th. One of +Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who has had a play written about her, +but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth reading. Having performed all these +noble actions, his Majesty died, and was succeeded by his son. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 5th +</p> + +<p> +This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to draw his +picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose name was +Richard the 3rd. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +RICHARD the 3rd +</p> + +<p> +The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated by +Historians, but as he was a <i>York</i>, I am rather inclined to suppose him a +very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted that he killed +his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been declared that he did +<i>not</i> kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to beleive true; and if +this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he did not kill his Wife, for if +Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the +Widow of Richard. Whether innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, +for Henry Tudor E. of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great +fuss about getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of +Bosworth, he succeeded to it. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 7th +</p> + +<p> +This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of York, +by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right inferior to +hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage he had two sons +and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was married to the King of +Scotland and had the happiness of being grandmother to one of the first +Characters in the World. But of <i>her</i>, I shall have occasion to speak more +at large in future. The youngest, Mary, married first the King of France and +secondly the D. of Suffolk, by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother +of Lady Jane Grey, who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of +Scots, was yet an amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other +people were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck +and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former of whom +was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was beheaded with +the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the Kings kitchen. His +Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit was his not +being <i>quite</i> so bad as his daughter Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HENRY the 8th +</p> + +<p> +It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were not as +well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I am myself. +It will therefore be saving <i>them</i> the task of reading again what they +have read before, and <i>myself</i> the trouble of writing what I do not +perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the principal Events +which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked Cardinal Wolsey’s +telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he was come to lay his +bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and the King’s +riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is however but +Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was entirely innocent +of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of which her Beauty, her +Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient proofs, not to mention her +solemn Protestations of Innocence, the weakness of the Charges against her, and +the King’s Character; all of which add some confirmation, tho’ +perhaps but slight ones when in comparison with those before alledged in her +favour. Tho’ I do not profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper +to give some and shall of course make choice of those which it is most +necessary for the Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her +letter to the King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of +this Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has +fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his +abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous depredations of +time has been of infinite use to the landscape of England in general, which +probably was a principal motive for his doing it, since otherwise why should a +Man who was of no Religion himself be at so much trouble to abolish one which +had for ages been established in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was +the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice who, tho’ universally acquitted of the +crimes for which she was beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led +an abandoned life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, +since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the +Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The Kings +last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected it. He was +succeeded by his only son Edward. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +EDWARD the 6th +</p> + +<p> +As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s death, +he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the late King +happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the Duke of +Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority. This Man was on +the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat of a favourite with me, +tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that he was equal to those +first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or Gilpin. He was beheaded, of +which he might with reason have been proud, had he known that such was the +death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as it was impossible that he should be +conscious of what had never happened, it does not appear that he felt +particularly delighted with the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of +Northumberland had the care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his +trust of both so well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his +daughter in law the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading +Greek. Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study +proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was always +rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause, she preserved the +same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what was generally esteemed +pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she declared herself displeased +with being appointed Queen, and while conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a +sentence in Latin and another in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband +accidentally passing that way. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +MARY +</p> + +<p> +This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of England, in +spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her Cousins Mary Queen +of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the Kingdom for the misfortunes they +experienced during her Reign, since they fully deserved them, for having +allowed her to succeed her Brother—which was a double peice of folly, +since they might have foreseen that as she died without children, she would be +succeeded by that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many +were the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her reign; I +suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of Spain who in her +sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She died without issue, +and then the dreadful moment came in which the destroyer of all comfort, the +deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in her, and the Murderess of her Cousin +succeeded to the Throne.—— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +ELIZABETH +</p> + +<p> +It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad Ministers—Since +wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed such extensive +mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived at, and encouraged her +in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people been asserted and beleived +that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, and the rest of those who filled +the cheif offices of State were deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But +oh! how blinded such writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit +despised, neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they +reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their Country +and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining for the space of +nineteen years, a <i>Woman</i> who if the claims of Relationship and Merit were +of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who condescended to place confidence in +her, had every reason to expect assistance and protection; and at length in +allowing Elizabeth to bring this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and +scandalous Death. Can any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, +this everlasting blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any +praise to Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this +bewitching Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose +only ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was abandoned +by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and vilified by all, +what must not her most noble mind have suffered when informed that Elizabeth +had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it with a most unshaken fortitude, +firm in her mind; constant in her Religion; and prepared herself to meet the +cruel fate to which she was doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed +from conscious Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible +that some hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that +steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much credit? +But this is a striking proof of <i>their</i> narrow souls and prejudiced +Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great Hall at Fortheringay +Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of February 1586—to the +everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers, and of England in general. It +may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude my account of this ill-fated +Queen, to observe that she had been accused of several crimes during the time +of her reigning in Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader +that she was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than +Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart, her +Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely done away +every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in the Reader’s +mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I shall proceed to +mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s reign. It was about +this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English Navigator who sailed round +the World, lived, to be the ornament of his Country and his profession. Yet +great as he was, and justly celebrated as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing +that he will be equalled in this or the next Century by one who tho’ now +but young, already promises to answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations +of his Relations and Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom +this work is dedicated, and my no less amiable self. +</p> + +<p> +Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of Life, +yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an <i>Earl</i>, as Drake was in +that of a <i>Sailor</i>, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This unfortunate young +Man was not unlike in character to that equally unfortunate one <i>Frederic +Delamere</i>. The simile may be carried still farther, and Elizabeth the +torment of Essex may be compared to the Emmeline of Delamere. It would be +endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble and gallant Earl. It is +sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been +Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and +after performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long +survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to the +memory of Mary I should pity her. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +JAMES the 1st +</p> + +<p> +Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most principal, was +his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the whole I cannot +help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had several Children; +fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before his father or he +might have experienced the evils which befell his unfortunate Brother. +</p> + +<p> +As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with infinite +regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member of it: yet Truth +being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am necessitated to say that in +this reign the roman Catholics of England did not behave like Gentlemen to the +protestants. Their Behaviour indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of +Parliament might justly be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir +Henry Percy tho’ certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of +that general politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions +were entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is by many +people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an enemy of the +noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and must refer all those +who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars of his life, to Mr +Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find many interesting +anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir Christopher Hatton.—His +Majesty was of that amiable disposition which inclines to Freindship, and in +such points was possessed of a keener penetration in discovering Merit than +many other people. I once heard an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the +subject I am now on reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some +amusement to <i>find it out</i>, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it +to them. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SHARADE +</p> + +<p> +My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on my +whole. +</p> + +<p> +The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards created +Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in the above +mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of Buckingham. On his +Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +CHARLES the 1st +</p> + +<p> +This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to those of +his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve since he was her +descendant. Never certainly were there before so many detestable Characters at +one time in England as in this Period of its History; never were amiable men so +scarce. The number of them throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to +<i>five</i>, besides the inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their +King and faithful to his interests. The names of this noble five who never +forgot the duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his +Majesty, were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own +support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke +of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause. While the +<i>villains</i> of the time would make too long a list to be written or read; I +shall therefore content myself with mentioning the leaders of the Gang. +Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be considered as the original Causers +of all the disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which England for many +years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am +obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally +guilty with the generality of the English, since they dared to think +differently from their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as +<i>Stuarts</i> it was their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and +imprison the unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less +unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too numerous +for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what I make myself) is +uninteresting to me; my principal reason for undertaking the History of England +being to Prove the innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself +with having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather +fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme.—As +therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the +distresses into which this King was involved through the misconduct and Cruelty +of his Parliament, I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him from the +Reproach of Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he has often been +charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am +certain of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions +have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that +he was a STUART. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +F<small>INIS</small> +</p> + +<p> +Saturday Nov: 26th 1791. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0030"></a> +A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0031"></a> +To Miss COOPER</h2> + +<p> +C<small>OUSIN</small> +</p> + +<p> +Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every Clime in +Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I Commend to your +Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious Comments, which have +been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by your Comical Cousin +</p> + +<p class="right"> +The Author +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>A COLLECTION OF LETTERS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0033"></a> +LETTER the FIRST<br/> +From a MOTHER to her FREIND.</h2> + +<p> +My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner from that +in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now arrived at that age +when it is necessary for them in some measure to become conversant with the +World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I +flatter myself that their education has been such as will not disgrace their +appearance in the World, and that <i>they</i> will not disgrace their Education +I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible +yet unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As +their progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am +willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together into +Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first <i>entrée</i> into Life, +as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad that we are to +meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward for them to enter too +wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall proceed by +degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us, and +perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay +Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we +have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at Sir John +Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the +Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How they +will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I have no +fear, I only dread their health. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls <i>are out</i>. As the +moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet +Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove to the +door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they were seated thus +addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now arrived when I am to +reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours towards you during your +Education. You are this Evening to enter a World in which you will meet with +many wonderfull Things; Yet let me warn you against suffering yourselves to be +meanly swayed by the Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved +Children that if you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both +assured me that they would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow +it with attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to +amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would never give +me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had presided over their +infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such expectations and +such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear from you—and can +chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of your being seduced +by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies. Come, then my Children (added +I) the Carriage is driving to the door, and I will not a moment delay the +happiness you are so impatient to enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, +poor Augusta could scarcely breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. +“The long-expected Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be +in the World.”—In a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s +parlour, where with her daughter she sate ready to receive us. I observed with +delight the impression my Children made on them—. They were indeed two +sweet, elegant-looking Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the +peculiarity of their situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and +address which could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how +delighted I must have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed +every object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with +others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in raptures +with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yrs Ever—A. F. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0034"></a> +LETTER the SECOND<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind</h2> + +<p> +Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why should I +feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have experienced +before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for Willoughby than I had for +his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our feelings become more acute from +being often wounded? I must suppose my dear Belle that this is the Case, since +I am not conscious of being more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to +Neville, Fitzowen, or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the +most lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then +dear Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I weep +when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My Freinds are +all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they lament my want of +spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of releiving my melancholy, +by directing my thoughts to other objects, they have invited several of their +freinds to spend the Christmas with us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her +sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s +family will be with us next week. This is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and +Cousins; but what can the presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but +weary and distress me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our +Visitors are arrived. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet sister +Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming Woman +above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she is. She is now +about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is more blooming than I +ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her, the moment she entered the +house, and she appeared equally pleased with me, attaching herself to me during +the remainder of the day. There is something so sweet, so mild in her +Countenance, that she seems more than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching +as her appearance; I could not help telling her how much she engaged my +admiration—. “Oh! Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an +inability at the moment of expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss +Jane—(I repeated)—I could not think of words to suit my +feelings—She seemed waiting for my speech—. I was +confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I could +only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my +Embarrassment and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by +saying—“My dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed +yourself—I will turn the Conversation without appearing to notice it. +“Oh! how I loved her for her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you +used to do?” said she—. “I am advised to ride by my +Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I have a Charming horse, am +uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I quite recovered from my Confusion, +and in short I ride a great deal.” “You are in the right my +Love,” said she. Then repeating the following line which was an extempore +and equally adapted to recommend both Riding and Candour— +</p> + +<p> +“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” +<i>I</i> rode once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and +tremulous a Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking +I could make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes +on my face, since I was married.” I was never so +surprised—“Married, Ma’am!” I repeated. “You may +well wear that look of astonishment, said she, since what I have said must +appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is more true than that I once was +married.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why are you called Miss Jane?” +</p> + +<p> +“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the +late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret from him +and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might offer of revealing +it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon given in the death of my +dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears, continued Miss Jane wiping her +Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory. He fell my Sophia, while +fighting for his Country in America after a most happy Union of seven +years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a Girl, who had constantly +resided with my Father and me, passing with him and with every one as the +Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever been an only Child) had as yet +been the comforts of my Life. But no sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these +sweet Creatures fell sick and died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my +feelings must have been when as an Aunt I attended my Children to their early +Grave—. My Father did not survive them many weeks—He died, poor +Good old man, happily ignorant to his last hour of my Marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s +death?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my +Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself are the +only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been either Wife or +Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the name of Dashwood (a name +which after my Henry’s death I could never hear without emotion) and as I +was conscious of having no right to that of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of +either, and have made it a point of bearing only my Christian one since my +Father’s death.” She paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane +(said I) how infinitely am I obliged to you for so entertaining a story! You +cannot think how it has diverted me! But have you quite done?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother +dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself, and as we +had always loved each other in idea from the high Character in which we had +ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we determined to live together. +We wrote to one another on the same subject by the same post, so exactly did +our feeling and our actions coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we +gave and received of becoming one family, and have from that time lived +together in the greatest affection.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for +when one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to +hear of equal misery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! but my Sophia why <i>are you</i> unhappy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?” +</p> + +<p> +“But my love why lament <i>his</i> perfidy, when you bore so well that of +many young Men before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his +Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0035"></a> +LETTER the THIRD<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind</h2> + +<p> +A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my Mother +never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who did me the +honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to sit forwards, which +is a favour about which I am very indifferent especially as I know it is +considered as confering a great obligation on me “So Miss Maria (said her +Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the door of the Carriage) you seem very +smart to night—<i>My</i> poor Girls will appear quite to disadvantage by +<i>you</i>—I only hope your Mother may not have distressed herself to +set <i>you</i> off. Have you got a new Gown on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could +assume. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission +I seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own, +for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a needless piece +of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped one? It is not my +way to find fault with People because they are poor, for I always think that +they are more to be despised and pitied than blamed for it, especially if they +cannot help it, but at the same time I must say that in my opinion your old +striped Gown would have been quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell +you the truth (I always speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of +the people in the room will not know whether you have a Gown on or +not—But I suppose you intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, +the sooner the better; and I wish you success.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—” +</p> + +<p> +“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” +Miss Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me. +</p> + +<p> +“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her +Ladyship. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be +extravagant.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” +“Bread and Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a +better supper.” said Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her +Mother, as a better is always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed +excessively, as she constantly does at her Mother’s wit. +</p> + +<p> +Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while riding +in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother is +always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my way in the +world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady Greville, or you +may be certain that I would never enter either her House, or her Coach with the +disagreable certainty I always have of being abused for my Poverty while I am +in them.—When we arrived at Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, +which was an hour and a half later than we were desired to be there; but Lady +Greville is too fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The +Dancing however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been +long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just as we +were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got his white +Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean time the Dancing +began and Lady Greville in passing to another room went exactly before +me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me though there were +several people close to us, +</p> + +<p> +“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I +am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair; perhaps you +may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she passed on +without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and leaving me very +much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr Bernard however +soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered the room, and leading +me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared from the imputation Lady +Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all the old Ladies who had heard her +speech. I soon forgot all my vexations in the pleasure of dancing and of having +the most agreable partner in the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large +Estate I could see that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she +found who had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and +accordingly when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with +<i>more</i> than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and said +loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss Maria +in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and I cannot agree +whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she wanted to +mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent her seeing that her +scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine Merchant.” +“Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not +he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he +abscond?” “I never heard that he did.” “At least he +died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.” “Why, +was not your <i>Father</i> as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” +“Was not he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him +there.” She gave me <i>such</i> a look, and turned away in a great +passion; while I was half delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half +afraid of being thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with +me, she took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in +favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a Party of +great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone else. Miss +Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen preferred +staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant Dance and as Lady +G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable ride. +</p> + +<p> +The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at the +door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it should. She sent +in a message by the servant to say that “she should not get out but that +Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she wanted to speak to her, and that +she must make haste and come immediately—” “What an +impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—” +replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her +Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold. +</p> + +<p> +“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last +night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that you +may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do not +come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas +Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine +for I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an +umbrella—” I could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me +leave to keep myself dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I +shant wait—I hate my Victuals over-done—But you need not come +before the time—How does your Mother do? She is at dinner is not +she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the middle of dinner when your +Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it very cold Maria.” +said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said her +Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are +used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made your +Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often ride in a +Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the wind shews your +legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as you do in such a day as +this. But some sort of people have no feelings either of cold or +Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on Thursday at 5 +o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at +night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk +home—My compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be +cold—Drive on—” And away she went, leaving me in a great +passion with her as she always does. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Maria Williams. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0036"></a> +LETTER the FOURTH<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind</h2> + +<p> +We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very agreable +looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her appearance, for added +to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and voice had something +peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that they inspired me with a great +curiosity to know the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she came +from, and what had befallen her, for it was then only known that she was a +relation of Mr Evelyn, and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a +favourable opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I +wished to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr +Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a +whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of necessity +obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and being determined +not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began the Conversation in the +following Manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?” +</p> + +<p> +“I arrived on Tuesday.” +</p> + +<p> +“You came from Derbyshire?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from +Suffolk.” You will think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you +know that I am not wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. +“Are you pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to +the one you have left?” +</p> + +<p> +“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I +longed to know for why. +</p> + +<p> +“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a poor +consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her +head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much raised, +that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it. +</p> + +<p> +“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed +I do.” “You were born there I suppose?” “Yes +Ma’am I was and passed many happy years there—” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you +never spent any <i>un</i>happy one’s there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a right +to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—<i>Some</i> Misfortunes I have +certainly met with.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>What</i> Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with +impatience to know every thing. “<i>None</i> Ma’am I hope that have +been the effect of any wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not +Ma’am, and have no doubt but that any sufferings you may have experienced +could arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors of +Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem unhappy my dear Miss +Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?” +“<i>Your</i> power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it is in +<i>no ones</i> power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in so +mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply. +I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few moments and +looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear Miss Grenville +said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably stand in need of some +one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps +superior Judgement might authorise her to give it. I am that person, and I now +challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and Freindship, +in return to which I shall only ask for yours—” +</p> + +<p> +“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am +highly flattered by your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no +doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever +I am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall know +where to apply.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still however I had +not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of sentiment and +Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined therefore to renew my +attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you intend staying long in +this part of England Miss Grenville?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I +did not expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my +Life—. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0037"></a> +LETTER the FIFTH<br/> +From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind</h2> + +<p> +My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love every +day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I had this +morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from my dear Musgrove. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Sackville St: Janry 7th +</p> + +<p> +It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely +Henrietta, and the sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner +becoming the day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when +her Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase +it from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live +within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first entered +the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was like the sight ofa +wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with admiration—She +appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate Musgrove became a +captive to your Charms before I had time to look about me. Yes Madam, I had the +happiness of adoring you, an happiness for which I cannot be too grateful. +“What said he to himself is Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? +Enviable Mortal! and may he pine for her who is the object of universal +admiration, who is adored by a Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable +Henrietta how beautiful you are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more +than Mortal. You are an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are +the prettiest Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in +her Musgroves Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And +ah! Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for the +death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair one will +not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in affluence above +what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an improvable Estate—. +Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I am at Present with my sister +where I mean to continue till my own house which tho’ an excellent one is +at Present somewhat out of repair, is ready to receive me. Amiable princess of +my Heart farewell—Of that Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your +most ardent Admirer and devoted humble servt. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +T. Musgrove. +</p> + +<p> +There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a +master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of Thought, +such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet? No, never I can +answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with by every Girl. Oh! how I +long to be with him! I intend to send him the following in answer to his Letter +tomorrow. +</p> + +<p> +My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made me; +I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than any body in +the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest Man in England, and +so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a Letter in my Life. Do write me +another just like it, and tell me you are in love with me in every other line. +I quite die to see you. How shall we manage to see one another? for we are so +much in love that we cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think +how impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will +not Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you every +day of my Life. +</p> + +<p> +How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her house, +and how happy every body in London must be because you are there. I hope you +will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I never read such sweet +Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most truly and faithfully yours for +ever and ever +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Henrietta Halton. +</p> + +<p> +I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write though +nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a Love-letter. I +saw him you know for the first time at Lady Scudamores—And when I saw her +Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I liked her Cousin Musgrove? +</p> + +<p> +“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love +with you from the first moment he beheld you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I would +give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first +sight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I +beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a contemptible +one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a great deal of the +World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.” +</p> + +<p> +This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my conquest. +However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so I said to +her— +</p> + +<p> +“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young +Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who have no +fortune at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you can +be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to encourage your +marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a fortune with you. Mr +Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an estate of several hundreds an +year which is capable of great Improvement, and an excellent House, though at +Present it is not quite in repair.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him, +and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good Love-letter, +I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for admiring me, tho’ +perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady Scudamore.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her +Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I am not +greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to yourself, cherishing a +most tender affection for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a +thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear +Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you +prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away my +head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why +Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why refuse to +confide in me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to +confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove, that I +am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a handsome Man. If +he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be ashamed of a passion which +must have been mean since the object would have been unworthy. But with such a +figure and face, and such beautiful hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush +to own that such superior merit has made an impression on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection) +what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a quick +discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such Noble +Sentiments!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady +Scudamore did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like +him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you +say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the invisible +power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so exactly coincide. Nay, +the colour of your Hair is not very different. Yes my dear Girl, the poor +despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the story of his Love—. Nor was I +surprised at it—I know not how it was, but I had a kind of presentiment +that he <i>would</i> be in love with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but how did he break it to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together +talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the Conversation was +cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent, when on a sudden he +interrupted me in the midst of something I was saying, by exclaiming in a most +Theatrical tone— +</p> + +<p> +Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such a +couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are not in +rhime!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great +deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am very +sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect, with a pretty +Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent House tho’ +somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with success to the adorable +Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel and been toasted by a +Baronet”—“<i>That</i> I have—” cried I. Lady +Scudamore continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced +of the little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands, that +I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet surely neither +you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the exquisite Gratification of +dieing for her, of falling a victim to her Charms. And when I am +dead”—continued her— +</p> + +<p> +“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature +should talk of dieing!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” +“When I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and +perhaps she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting +subject. I cannot bear it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would not +for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray go on.” said I. She did so. +</p> + +<p> +“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when I +feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to haste +such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta bless some +happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly attached to her as the +hapless Musgrove and while <i>he</i> crumbles to dust, May they live an example +of Felicity in the Conjugal state!” +</p> + +<p> +Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be lain at my +feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have to be capable of +such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this, must +melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be; and could the +divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her happiness, all gentle as +is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she would pity your affection and +endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin answered he, do not endeavour +to raise my hopes by such flattering assurances. No, I cannot hope to please +this angel of a Woman, and the only thing which remains for me to do, is to +die.” “True Love is ever desponding replied I, but <i>I</i> my dear +Tom will give you even greater hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, +than I have yet given you, by assuring you that I watched her with the +strictest attention during the whole day, and could plainly discover that she +cherishes in her bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!” +</p> + +<p> +“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I to +him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might render the +pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid voice, +nothing will convince me that <i>I</i> can have touched the heart of Henrietta +Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt deceiving me.” +“In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me to Persuade the +poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference for him; but when at +last he could no longer deny the force of my arguments, or discredit what I +told him, his transports, his Raptures, his Extacies are beyond my power to +describe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear +Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my Uncle and +Aunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I told him every thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did he say.” +</p> + +<p> +“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws +of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by their +Nephews or Neices, and wished <i>he</i> were in the House of Commons, that he +might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta would +condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that splendor to which she +had been used, and accept only in exchange the Comforts and Elegancies which +his limited Income could afford her, even supposing that his house were in +Readiness to receive her. I told him that it could not be expected that she +would; it would be doing her an injustice to suppose her capable of giving up +the power she now possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to +the poorer part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you +and herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure said I, I <i>am</i> very Charitable every now and then. And +what did Mr Musgrove say to this?” +</p> + +<p> +“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the truth +of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy Creature destined +to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must bring himself to wait, +however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when she might be freed from the +power of worthless Relations and able to bestow herself on him.” +</p> + +<p> +What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who am to +be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so adeiu my dear +freind, and beleive me yours etc— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. Halton. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis. +</p> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>SCRAPS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center"> +To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN +</p> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> N<small>EICE</small> +</p> + +<p> +As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon from +superintending your Education myself, the care of which will probably on that +account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it is my particular Duty to +Prevent your feeling as much as possible the want of my personal instructions, +by addressing to you on paper my Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of +Young Women, which you will find expressed in the following pages.— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +I am my dear Neice<br/> +Your affectionate Aunt<br/> +The Author. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0038"></a> +THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER</h2> + +<h3>A LETTER</h3> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> L<small>OUISA</small> +</p> + +<p> +Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath, whither he +is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him, but the eldest and +the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex. Though you have often told me +that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome, you never mentioned anything of her +Sisters’ beauty; yet they are certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give +you their description.—Julia is eighteen; with a countenance in which +Modesty, Sense and Dignity are happily blended, she has a form which at once +presents you with Grace, Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen +is shorter than her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity +of Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way +as estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness the +most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She appears to +have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her conversation during the +half hour they set with us, was replete with humourous sallies, Bonmots and +repartees; while the sensible, the amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality +worthy of a heart like her own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I +had always received of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that +social Shake, and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old +and valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been +separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too) that +many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which gave occasion +to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections on the many changes in +their situation which so long a period had occasioned, on the advantages of +some, and the disadvantages of others. From this subject she made a short +digression to the instability of human pleasures and the uncertainty of their +duration, which led her to observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She +was proceeding to illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great +Men when the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father +and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending five or +six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you, and I assure +you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all. “Louisa Clarke +(said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet sometimes her good humour is +clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite. She neither wants Understanding or is +without some pretensions to Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the +value she sets on her personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be +offered are at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her +folly.” So said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the +concurrence of their own. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Your affectionate<br/> +Arabella Smythe. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0039"></a> +THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY</h2> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Characters</i> +</p> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td>Popgun</td><td>Maria</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Charles</td><td>Pistolletta</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Postilion</td><td>Hostess</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Chorus of ploughboys</td><td>Cook</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>and</td><td>and</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>Strephon</td><td>Chloe</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE—AN</small> I<small>NN</small> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Maria<br/> +If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Maria<br/> +Yes Mistress.—<i>exit</i> Maria +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Cook<br/> +If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Cook<br/> +I will, I will. <i>exit</i> Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Hostess to Charles<br/> +If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Charles<br/> +Yes Madam. <i>exeunt</i> Severally. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE</small> M<small>OON</small>, and discovers Popgun +and Pistoletta. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Pistoletta<br/> +Pray papa how far is it to London? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Popgun<br/> +My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the picture of +thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am going to Town to marry +to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my whole Estate, it wants seven +Miles. + +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE</small> S<small>UN</small>— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Chloe<br/> +Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be +married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will sing +a song. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SONG +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I go to Town<br/> +And when I come down,<br/> +I shall be married to Streephon.*<br/> +And that to me will be fun. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +[* Note the two e’s] +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Chorus +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Be fun, be fun, be fun,<br/> +And that to me will be fun. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Cook— +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Cook<br/> +Here is the bill of fare. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Chloe reads<br/> +2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have the +leg of beef and the partridge. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Exit</i> Cook. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +And now I will sing another song. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +SONG +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I am going to have my dinner,<br/> +After which I shan’t be thinner,<br/> +I wish I had here Strephon<br/> +For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Chorus +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Tough one, tough one, tough one<br/> +For he would carve the partridge if it<br/> +Should be a tough one. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Exit</i> Chloe and Chorus.— +</p> + +<p class="center"> +S<small>CENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE</small> L<small>ION</small>. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Enter</i> Strephon and Postilion. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Streph:)<br/> +You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to Town to +marry Chloe. How much is your due? +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Post:<br/> +Eighteen pence. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Streph:<br/> +Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support myself in +Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I received from Chloe. +</p> + +<p class="drama"> +Post:<br/> +Sir, I accept your offer. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +E<small>ND OF THE FIRST</small> A<small>CT</small>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3> +<a name="link2H_4_0040"></a> +A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her Judgement +led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart disapproved. +</h3> + +<p> +Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved Ellinor, +and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that on a close +examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have strictly deserved them. I +murdered my father at a very early period of my Life, I have since murdered my +Mother, and I am now going to murder my Sister. I have changed my religion so +often that at present I have not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured +witness in every public tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my +own Will. In short there is scarcely a crime that I have not +committed—But I am now going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse +guards has paid his Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As +there is something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it. +Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died immensely +rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice to his three +younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about eight Million to the +present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the Colonel lived tolerably +contented for nearly four months when he took it into his head to determine on +getting the whole of his eldest Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged +and the Colonel produced it in Court—but nobody would swear to it’s +being the right will except himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody +beleived him. At that moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, +and was beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready +to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply to me. +In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore to its’ +being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign all his +illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the next day with an +offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my Sister. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Yours Ever,<br/> +Anna Parker. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0041"></a> +A TOUR THROUGH WALES—<br/> +in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—</h2> + +<p> +M<small>Y DEAR</small> C<small>LARA</small> +</p> + +<p> +I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my power +to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last Monday +month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a principality +contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of Wales. We travelled +on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our little poney and Fanny and +I walked by her side or rather ran, for my Mother is so fond of riding fast +that she galloped all the way. You may be sure that we were in a fine +perspiration when we came to our place of resting. Fanny has taken a great many +Drawings of the Country, which are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such +exact resemblances as might be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. +It would astonish you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We +determined to take a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our +own besides those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both +capped and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone, +Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which we each +took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully— +</p> + +<p class="right"> +I am your ever affectionate<br/> +Elizabeth Johnson. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0042"></a> +A TALE.</h2> + +<p> +A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage in +Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested to him by +his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a Closet for him, +provided he would take a small house near the borders of an extensive Forest, +and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus gladly accepted the offer and +continued for some time searching after such a retreat when he was one morning +agreably releived from his suspence by reading this advertisement in a +Newspaper. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +T<small>O BE</small> L<small>ETT</small> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three Miles from +the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a Closet. +</p> + +<p> +The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and shewed +him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him in his Carriage +to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for three days and six +nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest and following a track which +led by it’s side down a steep Hill over which ten Rivulets meandered, +they reached the Cottage in half an hour. Wilhelminus alighted, and after +knocking for some time without receiving any answer or hearing any one stir +within, he opened the door which was fastened only by a wooden latch and +entered a small room, which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that +were unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A +pair of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less +destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the House. He +was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the comfort of +reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything on furniture +himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took him the next +day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was requisite to furnish the +two rooms and the Closet, In a few days everything was completed, and +Wilhelminus returned to take possession of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied +him, with his Lady the amiable Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and +Marina to whom Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of +Attendants.—An ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in +endeavouring to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable +presence of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in +an open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was both +simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by four +sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and that happy +ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of Wilhelminus’s most +striking Virtues. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE AND FREINDSHIP ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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