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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/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 |
