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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 ***
+
+
+
+
+LOVE & FREINDSHIP
+AND
+OTHER EARLY WORKS
+
+A Collection of Juvenile Writings
+
+By Jane Austen
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ LOVE AND FREINDSHIP
+ LETTER the FIRST From ISABEL to LAURA
+ LETTER 2nd LAURA to ISABEL
+ LETTER 3rd LAURA to MARIANNE
+ LETTER 4th Laura to MARIANNE
+ LETTER 5th LAURA to MARIANNE
+ LETTER 6th LAURA to MARIANNE
+ LETTER 7th LAURA to MARIANNE
+ LETTER 8th LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation
+ LETTER the 9th From the same to the same
+ LETTER 10th LAURA in continuation
+ LETTER 11th LAURA in continuation
+ LETTER the 12th LAURA in continuation
+ LETTER the 13th LAURA in continuation
+ LETTER the 14th LAURA in continuation
+ LETTER the 15th LAURA in continuation.
+
+ AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS
+ LESLEY CASTLE
+ LETTER the FIRST is from Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+ LETTER the SECOND From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.
+ LETTER the THIRD From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL
+ LETTER the FOURTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY
+ LETTER the FIFTH Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+ LETTER the SIXTH LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+ LETTER the SEVENTH From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY
+ LETTER the EIGHTH Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE
+ LETTER the NINTH Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL
+ LETTER the TENTH From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+
+ THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND
+
+ A COLLECTION OF LETTERS
+ To Miss COOPER
+ LETTER the FIRST From a MOTHER to her FREIND.
+ LETTER the SECOND From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind
+ LETTER the THIRD From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind
+ LETTER the FOURTH From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind
+ LETTER the FIFTH From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind
+
+ THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER
+
+ THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY
+
+ A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong
+ A TOUR THROUGH WALES—in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—
+
+ A TALE.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE AND FREINDSHIP
+
+
+TO MADAME LA COMTESSE DE FEUILLIDE THIS NOVEL IS INSCRIBED BY HER
+OBLIGED HUMBLE SERVANT THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+“Deceived in Freindship and Betrayed in Love.”
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FIRST
+From ISABEL to LAURA
+
+
+How often, in answer to my repeated intreaties that you would give my
+Daughter a regular detail of the Misfortunes and Adventures of your
+Life, have you said “No, my freind never will I comply with your
+request till I may be no longer in Danger of again experiencing such
+dreadful ones.”
+
+Surely that time is now at hand. You are this day 55. If a woman may
+ever be said to be in safety from the determined Perseverance of
+disagreeable Lovers and the cruel Persecutions of obstinate Fathers,
+surely it must be at such a time of Life.
+
+Isabel
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 2nd
+LAURA to ISABEL
+
+
+Altho’ I cannot agree with you in supposing that I shall never again be
+exposed to Misfortunes as unmerited as those I have already
+experienced, yet to avoid the imputation of Obstinacy or ill-nature, I
+will gratify the curiosity of your daughter; and may the fortitude with
+which I have suffered the many afflictions of my past Life, prove to
+her a useful lesson for the support of those which may befall her in
+her own.
+
+Laura
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 3rd
+LAURA to MARIANNE
+
+
+As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that
+knowledge of my unhappy story, which your Mother has so often solicited
+me to give you.
+
+My Father was a native of Ireland and an inhabitant of Wales; my Mother
+was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl—I
+was born in Spain and received my Education at a Convent in France.
+
+When I had reached my eighteenth Year I was recalled by my Parents to
+my paternal roof in Wales. Our mansion was situated in one of the most
+romantic parts of the Vale of Uske. Tho’ my Charms are now considerably
+softened and somewhat impaired by the Misfortunes I have undergone, I
+was once beautiful. But lovely as I was the Graces of my Person were
+the least of my Perfections. Of every accomplishment accustomary to my
+sex, I was Mistress. When in the Convent, my progress had always
+exceeded my instructions, my Acquirements had been wonderfull for my
+age, and I had shortly surpassed my Masters.
+
+In my Mind, every Virtue that could adorn it was centered; it was the
+Rendez-vous of every good Quality and of every noble sentiment.
+
+A sensibility too tremblingly alive to every affliction of my Freinds,
+my Acquaintance and particularly to every affliction of my own, was my
+only fault, if a fault it could be called. Alas! how altered now! Tho’
+indeed my own Misfortunes do not make less impression on me than they
+ever did, yet now I never feel for those of an other. My
+accomplishments too, begin to fade—I can neither sing so well nor Dance
+so gracefully as I once did—and I have entirely forgot the _Minuet Dela
+Cour_.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 4th
+LAURA to MARIANNE
+
+
+Our neighbourhood was small, for it consisted only of your Mother. She
+may probably have already told you that being left by her Parents in
+indigent Circumstances she had retired into Wales on eoconomical
+motives. There it was our freindship first commenced. Isobel was then
+one and twenty. Tho’ pleasing both in her Person and Manners (between
+ourselves) she never possessed the hundredth part of my Beauty or
+Accomplishments. Isabel had seen the World. She had passed 2 Years at
+one of the first Boarding-schools in London; had spent a fortnight in
+Bath and had supped one night in Southampton.
+
+“Beware my Laura (she would often say) Beware of the insipid Vanities
+and idle Dissipations of the Metropolis of England; Beware of the
+unmeaning Luxuries of Bath and of the stinking fish of Southampton.”
+
+“Alas! (exclaimed I) how am I to avoid those evils I shall never be
+exposed to? What probability is there of my ever tasting the
+Dissipations of London, the Luxuries of Bath, or the stinking Fish of
+Southampton? I who am doomed to waste my Days of Youth and Beauty in an
+humble Cottage in the Vale of Uske.”
+
+Ah! little did I then think I was ordained so soon to quit that humble
+Cottage for the Deceitfull Pleasures of the World.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 5th
+LAURA to MARIANNE
+
+
+One Evening in December as my Father, my Mother and myself, were
+arranged in social converse round our Fireside, we were on a sudden
+greatly astonished, by hearing a violent knocking on the outward door
+of our rustic Cot.
+
+My Father started—“What noise is that,” (said he.) “It sounds like a
+loud rapping at the door”—(replied my Mother.) “it does indeed.” (cried
+I.) “I am of your opinion; (said my Father) it certainly does appear to
+proceed from some uncommon violence exerted against our unoffending
+door.” “Yes (exclaimed I) I cannot help thinking it must be somebody
+who knocks for admittance.”
+
+“That is another point (replied he;) We must not pretend to determine
+on what motive the person may knock—tho’ that someone _does_ rap at the
+door, I am partly convinced.”
+
+Here, a 2d tremendous rap interrupted my Father in his speech, and
+somewhat alarmed my Mother and me.
+
+“Had we better not go and see who it is? (said she) the servants are
+out.” “I think we had.” (replied I.) “Certainly, (added my Father) by
+all means.” “Shall we go now?” (said my Mother,) “The sooner the
+better.” (answered he.) “Oh! let no time be lost” (cried I.)
+
+A third more violent Rap than ever again assaulted our ears. “I am
+certain there is somebody knocking at the Door.” (said my Mother.) “I
+think there must,” (replied my Father) “I fancy the servants are
+returned; (said I) I think I hear Mary going to the Door.” “I’m glad of
+it (cried my Father) for I long to know who it is.”
+
+I was right in my conjecture; for Mary instantly entering the Room,
+informed us that a young Gentleman and his Servant were at the door,
+who had lossed their way, were very cold and begged leave to warm
+themselves by our fire.
+
+“Won’t you admit them?” (said I.) “You have no objection, my Dear?”
+(said my Father.) “None in the World.” (replied my Mother.)
+
+Mary, without waiting for any further commands immediately left the
+room and quickly returned introducing the most beauteous and amiable
+Youth, I had ever beheld. The servant she kept to herself.
+
+My natural sensibility had already been greatly affected by the
+sufferings of the unfortunate stranger and no sooner did I first behold
+him, than I felt that on him the happiness or Misery of my future Life
+must depend.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 6th
+LAURA to MARIANNE
+
+
+The noble Youth informed us that his name was Lindsay—for particular
+reasons however I shall conceal it under that of Talbot. He told us
+that he was the son of an English Baronet, that his Mother had been for
+many years no more and that he had a Sister of the middle size. “My
+Father (he continued) is a mean and mercenary wretch—it is only to such
+particular freinds as this Dear Party that I would thus betray his
+failings. Your Virtues my amiable Polydore (addressing himself to my
+father) yours Dear Claudia and yours my Charming Laura call on me to
+repose in you, my confidence.” We bowed. “My Father seduced by the
+false glare of Fortune and the Deluding Pomp of Title, insisted on my
+giving my hand to Lady Dorothea. No never exclaimed I. Lady Dorothea is
+lovely and Engaging; I prefer no woman to her; but know Sir, that I
+scorn to marry her in compliance with your Wishes. No! Never shall it
+be said that I obliged my Father.”
+
+We all admired the noble Manliness of his reply. He continued.
+
+“Sir Edward was surprised; he had perhaps little expected to meet with
+so spirited an opposition to his will. “Where, Edward in the name of
+wonder (said he) did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have
+been studying Novels I suspect.” I scorned to answer: it would have
+been beneath my dignity. I mounted my Horse and followed by my faithful
+William set forth for my Aunts.”
+
+“My Father’s house is situated in Bedfordshire, my Aunt’s in Middlesex,
+and tho’ I flatter myself with being a tolerable proficient in
+Geography, I know not how it happened, but I found myself entering this
+beautifull Vale which I find is in South Wales, when I had expected to
+have reached my Aunts.”
+
+“After having wandered some time on the Banks of the Uske without
+knowing which way to go, I began to lament my cruel Destiny in the
+bitterest and most pathetic Manner. It was now perfectly dark, not a
+single star was there to direct my steps, and I know not what might
+have befallen me had I not at length discerned thro’ the solemn Gloom
+that surrounded me a distant light, which as I approached it, I
+discovered to be the chearfull Blaze of your fire. Impelled by the
+combination of Misfortunes under which I laboured, namely Fear, Cold
+and Hunger I hesitated not to ask admittance which at length I have
+gained; and now my Adorable Laura (continued he taking my Hand) when
+may I hope to receive that reward of all the painfull sufferings I have
+undergone during the course of my attachment to you, to which I have
+ever aspired. Oh! when will you reward me with Yourself?”
+
+“This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward.” (replied I.). We were
+immediately united by my Father, who tho’ he had never taken orders had
+been bred to the Church.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 7th
+LAURA to MARIANNE
+
+
+We remained but a few days after our Marriage, in the Vale of Uske.
+After taking an affecting Farewell of my Father, my Mother and my
+Isabel, I accompanied Edward to his Aunt’s in Middlesex. Philippa
+received us both with every expression of affectionate Love. My arrival
+was indeed a most agreable surprise to her as she had not only been
+totally ignorant of my Marriage with her Nephew, but had never even had
+the slightest idea of there being such a person in the World.
+
+Augusta, the sister of Edward was on a visit to her when we arrived. I
+found her exactly what her Brother had described her to be—of the
+middle size. She received me with equal surprise though not with equal
+Cordiality, as Philippa. There was a disagreable coldness and
+Forbidding Reserve in her reception of me which was equally distressing
+and Unexpected. None of that interesting Sensibility or amiable
+simpathy in her manners and Address to me when we first met which
+should have distinguished our introduction to each other. Her Language
+was neither warm, nor affectionate, her expressions of regard were
+neither animated nor cordial; her arms were not opened to receive me to
+her Heart, tho’ my own were extended to press her to mine.
+
+A short Conversation between Augusta and her Brother, which I
+accidentally overheard encreased my dislike to her, and convinced me
+that her Heart was no more formed for the soft ties of Love than for
+the endearing intercourse of Freindship.
+
+“But do you think that my Father will ever be reconciled to this
+imprudent connection?” (said Augusta.)
+
+“Augusta (replied the noble Youth) I thought you had a better opinion
+of me, than to imagine I would so abjectly degrade myself as to
+consider my Father’s Concurrence in any of my affairs, either of
+Consequence or concern to me. Tell me Augusta with sincerity; did you
+ever know me consult his inclinations or follow his Advice in the least
+trifling Particular since the age of fifteen?”
+
+“Edward (replied she) you are surely too diffident in your own praise.
+Since you were fifteen only! My Dear Brother since you were five years
+old, I entirely acquit you of ever having willingly contributed to the
+satisfaction of your Father. But still I am not without apprehensions
+of your being shortly obliged to degrade yourself in your own eyes by
+seeking a support for your wife in the Generosity of Sir Edward.”
+
+“Never, never Augusta will I so demean myself. (said Edward). Support!
+What support will Laura want which she can receive from him?”
+
+“Only those very insignificant ones of Victuals and Drink.” (answered
+she.)
+
+“Victuals and Drink! (replied my Husband in a most nobly contemptuous
+Manner) and dost thou then imagine that there is no other support for
+an exalted mind (such as is my Laura’s) than the mean and indelicate
+employment of Eating and Drinking?”
+
+“None that I know of, so efficacious.” (returned Augusta).
+
+“And did you then never feel the pleasing Pangs of Love, Augusta?
+(replied my Edward). Does it appear impossible to your vile and
+corrupted Palate, to exist on Love? Can you not conceive the Luxury of
+living in every distress that Poverty can inflict, with the object of
+your tenderest affection?”
+
+“You are too ridiculous (said Augusta) to argue with; perhaps however
+you may in time be convinced that...”
+
+Here I was prevented from hearing the remainder of her speech, by the
+appearance of a very Handsome young Woman, who was ushured into the
+Room at the Door of which I had been listening. On hearing her
+announced by the Name of “Lady Dorothea,” I instantly quitted my Post
+and followed her into the Parlour, for I well remembered that she was
+the Lady, proposed as a Wife for my Edward by the Cruel and Unrelenting
+Baronet.
+
+Altho’ Lady Dorothea’s visit was nominally to Philippa and Augusta, yet
+I have some reason to imagine that (acquainted with the Marriage and
+arrival of Edward) to see me was a principal motive to it.
+
+I soon perceived that tho’ Lovely and Elegant in her Person and tho’
+Easy and Polite in her Address, she was of that inferior order of
+Beings with regard to Delicate Feeling, tender Sentiments, and refined
+Sensibility, of which Augusta was one.
+
+She staid but half an hour and neither in the Course of her Visit,
+confided to me any of her secret thoughts, nor requested me to confide
+in her, any of Mine. You will easily imagine therefore my Dear Marianne
+that I could not feel any ardent affection or very sincere Attachment
+for Lady Dorothea.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 8th
+LAURA to MARIANNE, in continuation
+
+
+Lady Dorothea had not left us long before another visitor as unexpected
+a one as her Ladyship, was announced. It was Sir Edward, who informed
+by Augusta of her Brother’s marriage, came doubtless to reproach him
+for having dared to unite himself to me without his Knowledge. But
+Edward foreseeing his design, approached him with heroic fortitude as
+soon as he entered the Room, and addressed him in the following Manner.
+
+“Sir Edward, I know the motive of your Journey here—You come with the
+base Design of reproaching me for having entered into an indissoluble
+engagement with my Laura without your Consent. But Sir, I glory in the
+Act—. It is my greatest boast that I have incurred the displeasure of
+my Father!”
+
+So saying, he took my hand and whilst Sir Edward, Philippa, and Augusta
+were doubtless reflecting with admiration on his undaunted Bravery, led
+me from the Parlour to his Father’s Carriage which yet remained at the
+Door and in which we were instantly conveyed from the pursuit of Sir
+Edward.
+
+The Postilions had at first received orders only to take the London
+road; as soon as we had sufficiently reflected However, we ordered them
+to Drive to M——. the seat of Edward’s most particular freind, which was
+but a few miles distant.
+
+At M——. we arrived in a few hours; and on sending in our names were
+immediately admitted to Sophia, the Wife of Edward’s freind. After
+having been deprived during the course of 3 weeks of a real freind (for
+such I term your Mother) imagine my transports at beholding one, most
+truly worthy of the Name. Sophia was rather above the middle size; most
+elegantly formed. A soft languor spread over her lovely features, but
+increased their Beauty—. It was the Charectarestic of her Mind—. She
+was all sensibility and Feeling. We flew into each others arms and
+after having exchanged vows of mutual Freindship for the rest of our
+Lives, instantly unfolded to each other the most inward secrets of our
+Hearts—. We were interrupted in the delightfull Employment by the
+entrance of Augustus, (Edward’s freind) who was just returned from a
+solitary ramble.
+
+Never did I see such an affecting Scene as was the meeting of Edward
+and Augustus.
+
+“My Life! my Soul!” (exclaimed the former) “My adorable angel!”
+(replied the latter) as they flew into each other’s arms. It was too
+pathetic for the feelings of Sophia and myself—We fainted alternately
+on a sofa.
+
+Adeiu
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the 9th
+From the same to the same
+
+
+Towards the close of the day we received the following Letter from
+Philippa.
+
+“Sir Edward is greatly incensed by your abrupt departure; he has taken
+back Augusta to Bedfordshire. Much as I wish to enjoy again your
+charming society, I cannot determine to snatch you from that, of such
+dear and deserving Freinds—When your Visit to them is terminated, I
+trust you will return to the arms of your”
+
+“Philippa.”
+
+
+We returned a suitable answer to this affectionate Note and after
+thanking her for her kind invitation assured her that we would
+certainly avail ourselves of it, whenever we might have no other place
+to go to. Tho’ certainly nothing could to any reasonable Being, have
+appeared more satisfactory, than so gratefull a reply to her
+invitation, yet I know not how it was, but she was certainly capricious
+enough to be displeased with our behaviour and in a few weeks after,
+either to revenge our Conduct, or releive her own solitude, married a
+young and illiterate Fortune-hunter. This imprudent step (tho’ we were
+sensible that it would probably deprive us of that fortune which
+Philippa had ever taught us to expect) could not on our own accounts,
+excite from our exalted minds a single sigh; yet fearfull lest it might
+prove a source of endless misery to the deluded Bride, our trembling
+Sensibility was greatly affected when we were first informed of the
+Event. The affectionate Entreaties of Augustus and Sophia that we would
+for ever consider their House as our Home, easily prevailed on us to
+determine never more to leave them. In the society of my Edward and
+this Amiable Pair, I passed the happiest moments of my Life; Our time
+was most delightfully spent, in mutual Protestations of Freindship, and
+in vows of unalterable Love, in which we were secure from being
+interrupted, by intruding and disagreable Visitors, as Augustus and
+Sophia had on their first Entrance in the Neighbourhood, taken due care
+to inform the surrounding Families, that as their happiness centered
+wholly in themselves, they wished for no other society. But alas! my
+Dear Marianne such Happiness as I then enjoyed was too perfect to be
+lasting. A most severe and unexpected Blow at once destroyed every
+sensation of Pleasure. Convinced as you must be from what I have
+already told you concerning Augustus and Sophia, that there never were
+a happier Couple, I need not I imagine, inform you that their union had
+been contrary to the inclinations of their Cruel and Mercenery Parents;
+who had vainly endeavoured with obstinate Perseverance to force them
+into a Marriage with those whom they had ever abhorred; but with a
+Heroic Fortitude worthy to be related and admired, they had both,
+constantly refused to submit to such despotic Power.
+
+After having so nobly disentangled themselves from the shackles of
+Parental Authority, by a Clandestine Marriage, they were determined
+never to forfeit the good opinion they had gained in the World, in so
+doing, by accepting any proposals of reconciliation that might be
+offered them by their Fathers—to this farther tryal of their noble
+independance however they never were exposed.
+
+They had been married but a few months when our visit to them commenced
+during which time they had been amply supported by a considerable sum
+of money which Augustus had gracefully purloined from his unworthy
+father’s Escritoire, a few days before his union with Sophia.
+
+By our arrival their Expenses were considerably encreased tho’ their
+means for supplying them were then nearly exhausted. But they, Exalted
+Creatures! scorned to reflect a moment on their pecuniary Distresses
+and would have blushed at the idea of paying their Debts.—Alas! what
+was their Reward for such disinterested Behaviour! The beautifull
+Augustus was arrested and we were all undone. Such perfidious Treachery
+in the merciless perpetrators of the Deed will shock your gentle nature
+Dearest Marianne as much as it then affected the Delicate sensibility
+of Edward, Sophia, your Laura, and of Augustus himself. To compleat
+such unparalelled Barbarity we were informed that an Execution in the
+House would shortly take place. Ah! what could we do but what we did!
+We sighed and fainted on the sofa.
+
+Adeiu
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 10th
+LAURA in continuation
+
+
+When we were somewhat recovered from the overpowering Effusions of our
+grief, Edward desired that we would consider what was the most prudent
+step to be taken in our unhappy situation while he repaired to his
+imprisoned freind to lament over his misfortunes. We promised that we
+would, and he set forwards on his journey to Town. During his absence
+we faithfully complied with his Desire and after the most mature
+Deliberation, at length agreed that the best thing we could do was to
+leave the House; of which we every moment expected the officers of
+Justice to take possession. We waited therefore with the greatest
+impatience, for the return of Edward in order to impart to him the
+result of our Deliberations. But no Edward appeared. In vain did we
+count the tedious moments of his absence—in vain did we weep—in vain
+even did we sigh—no Edward returned—. This was too cruel, too
+unexpected a Blow to our Gentle Sensibility—we could not support it—we
+could only faint. At length collecting all the Resolution I was
+Mistress of, I arose and after packing up some necessary apparel for
+Sophia and myself, I dragged her to a Carriage I had ordered and we
+instantly set out for London. As the Habitation of Augustus was within
+twelve miles of Town, it was not long e’er we arrived there, and no
+sooner had we entered Holboun than letting down one of the Front
+Glasses I enquired of every decent-looking Person that we passed “If
+they had seen my Edward?”
+
+But as we drove too rapidly to allow them to answer my repeated
+Enquiries, I gained little, or indeed, no information concerning him.
+“Where am I to drive?” said the Postilion. “To Newgate Gentle Youth
+(replied I), to see Augustus.” “Oh! no, no, (exclaimed Sophia) I cannot
+go to Newgate; I shall not be able to support the sight of my Augustus
+in so cruel a confinement—my feelings are sufficiently shocked by the
+_recital_, of his Distress, but to behold it will overpower my
+Sensibility.” As I perfectly agreed with her in the Justice of her
+Sentiments the Postilion was instantly directed to return into the
+Country. You may perhaps have been somewhat surprised my Dearest
+Marianne, that in the Distress I then endured, destitute of any
+support, and unprovided with any Habitation, I should never once have
+remembered my Father and Mother or my paternal Cottage in the Vale of
+Uske. To account for this seeming forgetfullness I must inform you of a
+trifling circumstance concerning them which I have as yet never
+mentioned. The death of my Parents a few weeks after my Departure, is
+the circumstance I allude to. By their decease I became the lawfull
+Inheritress of their House and Fortune. But alas! the House had never
+been their own and their Fortune had only been an Annuity on their own
+Lives. Such is the Depravity of the World! To your Mother I should have
+returned with Pleasure, should have been happy to have introduced to
+her, my charming Sophia and should with Chearfullness have passed the
+remainder of my Life in their dear Society in the Vale of Uske, had not
+one obstacle to the execution of so agreable a scheme, intervened;
+which was the Marriage and Removal of your Mother to a distant part of
+Ireland.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER 11th
+LAURA in continuation
+
+
+“I have a Relation in Scotland (said Sophia to me as we left London)
+who I am certain would not hesitate in receiving me.” “Shall I order
+the Boy to drive there?” said I—but instantly recollecting myself,
+exclaimed, “Alas I fear it will be too long a Journey for the Horses.”
+Unwilling however to act only from my own inadequate Knowledge of the
+Strength and Abilities of Horses, I consulted the Postilion, who was
+entirely of my Opinion concerning the Affair. We therefore determined
+to change Horses at the next Town and to travel Post the remainder of
+the Journey—. When we arrived at the last Inn we were to stop at, which
+was but a few miles from the House of Sophia’s Relation, unwilling to
+intrude our Society on him unexpected and unthought of, we wrote a very
+elegant and well penned Note to him containing an account of our
+Destitute and melancholy Situation, and of our intention to spend some
+months with him in Scotland. As soon as we had dispatched this Letter,
+we immediately prepared to follow it in person and were stepping into
+the Carriage for that Purpose when our attention was attracted by the
+Entrance of a coroneted Coach and 4 into the Inn-yard. A Gentleman
+considerably advanced in years descended from it. At his first
+Appearance my Sensibility was wonderfully affected and e’er I had gazed
+at him a 2d time, an instinctive sympathy whispered to my Heart, that
+he was my Grandfather. Convinced that I could not be mistaken in my
+conjecture I instantly sprang from the Carriage I had just entered, and
+following the Venerable Stranger into the Room he had been shewn to, I
+threw myself on my knees before him and besought him to acknowledge me
+as his Grand Child. He started, and having attentively examined my
+features, raised me from the Ground and throwing his Grandfatherly
+arms around my Neck, exclaimed, “Acknowledge thee! Yes dear resemblance
+of my Laurina and Laurina’s Daughter, sweet image of my Claudia and my
+Claudia’s Mother, I do acknowledge thee as the Daughter of the one and
+the Grandaughter of the other.” While he was thus tenderly embracing
+me, Sophia astonished at my precipitate Departure, entered the Room in
+search of me. No sooner had she caught the eye of the venerable Peer,
+than he exclaimed with every mark of Astonishment—“Another
+Grandaughter! Yes, yes, I see you are the Daughter of my Laurina’s
+eldest Girl; your resemblance to the beauteous Matilda sufficiently
+proclaims it. “Oh! replied Sophia, when I first beheld you the
+instinct of Nature whispered me that we were in some degree related—But
+whether Grandfathers, or Grandmothers, I could not pretend to
+determine.” He folded her in his arms, and whilst they were tenderly
+embracing, the Door of the Apartment opened and a most beautifull young
+Man appeared. On perceiving him Lord St. Clair started and retreating
+back a few paces, with uplifted Hands, said, “Another Grand-child! What
+an unexpected Happiness is this! to discover in the space of 3 minutes,
+as many of my Descendants! This I am certain is Philander the son of my
+Laurina’s 3d girl the amiable Bertha; there wants now but the presence
+of Gustavus to compleat the Union of my Laurina’s Grand-Children.”
+
+“And here he is; (said a Gracefull Youth who that instant entered the
+room) here is the Gustavus you desire to see. I am the son of Agatha
+your Laurina’s 4th and youngest Daughter,” “I see you are indeed;
+replied Lord St. Clair—But tell me (continued he looking fearfully
+towards the Door) tell me, have I any other Grand-children in the
+House.” “None my Lord.” “Then I will provide for you all without
+farther delay—Here are 4 Banknotes of 50£ each—Take them and remember I
+have done the Duty of a Grandfather.” He instantly left the Room and
+immediately afterwards the House.
+
+Adeiu.
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the 12th
+LAURA in continuation
+
+
+You may imagine how greatly we were surprised by the sudden departure
+of Lord St Clair. “Ignoble Grand-sire!” exclaimed Sophia. “Unworthy
+Grandfather!” said I, and instantly fainted in each other’s arms. How
+long we remained in this situation I know not; but when we recovered we
+found ourselves alone, without either Gustavus, Philander, or the
+Banknotes. As we were deploring our unhappy fate, the Door of the
+Apartment opened and “Macdonald” was announced. He was Sophia’s cousin.
+The haste with which he came to our releif so soon after the receipt of
+our Note, spoke so greatly in his favour that I hesitated not to
+pronounce him at first sight, a tender and simpathetic Freind. Alas! he
+little deserved the name—for though he told us that he was much
+concerned at our Misfortunes, yet by his own account it appeared that
+the perusal of them, had neither drawn from him a single sigh, nor
+induced him to bestow one curse on our vindictive stars—. He told
+Sophia that his Daughter depended on her returning with him to
+Macdonald-Hall, and that as his Cousin’s freind he should be happy to
+see me there also. To Macdonald-Hall, therefore we went, and were
+received with great kindness by Janetta the Daughter of Macdonald, and
+the Mistress of the Mansion. Janetta was then only fifteen; naturally
+well disposed, endowed with a susceptible Heart, and a simpathetic
+Disposition, she might, had these amiable qualities been properly
+encouraged, have been an ornament to human Nature; but unfortunately
+her Father possessed not a soul sufficiently exalted to admire so
+promising a Disposition, and had endeavoured by every means on his
+power to prevent it encreasing with her Years. He had actually so far
+extinguished the natural noble Sensibility of her Heart, as to prevail
+on her to accept an offer from a young Man of his Recommendation. They
+were to be married in a few months, and Graham, was in the House when
+we arrived. _We_ soon saw through his character. He was just such a Man
+as one might have expected to be the choice of Macdonald. They said he
+was Sensible, well-informed, and Agreable; we did not pretend to Judge
+of such trifles, but as we were convinced he had no soul, that he had
+never read the sorrows of Werter, and that his Hair bore not the least
+resemblance to auburn, we were certain that Janetta could feel no
+affection for him, or at least that she ought to feel none. The very
+circumstance of his being her father’s choice too, was so much in his
+disfavour, that had he been deserving her, in every other respect yet
+_that_ of itself ought to have been a sufficient reason in the Eyes of
+Janetta for rejecting him. These considerations we were determined to
+represent to her in their proper light and doubted not of meeting with
+the desired success from one naturally so well disposed; whose errors
+in the affair had only arisen from a want of proper confidence in her
+own opinion, and a suitable contempt of her father’s. We found her
+indeed all that our warmest wishes could have hoped for; we had no
+difficulty to convince her that it was impossible she could love
+Graham, or that it was her Duty to disobey her Father; the only thing
+at which she rather seemed to hesitate was our assertion that she must
+be attached to some other Person. For some time, she persevered in
+declaring that she knew no other young man for whom she had the the
+smallest Affection; but upon explaining the impossibility of such a
+thing she said that she beleived she _did like_ Captain M’Kenrie better
+than any one she knew besides. This confession satisfied us and after
+having enumerated the good Qualities of M’Kenrie and assured her that
+she was violently in love with him, we desired to know whether he had
+ever in any wise declared his affection to her.
+
+“So far from having ever declared it, I have no reason to imagine that
+he has ever felt any for me.” said Janetta. “That he certainly adores
+you (replied Sophia) there can be no doubt—. The Attachment must be
+reciprocal. Did he never gaze on you with admiration—tenderly press
+your hand—drop an involantary tear—and leave the room abruptly?” “Never
+(replied she) that I remember—he has always left the room indeed when
+his visit has been ended, but has never gone away particularly abruptly
+or without making a bow.” Indeed my Love (said I) you must be
+mistaken—for it is absolutely impossible that he should ever have left
+you but with Confusion, Despair, and Precipitation. Consider but for a
+moment Janetta, and you must be convinced how absurd it is to suppose
+that he could ever make a Bow, or behave like any other Person.” Having
+settled this Point to our satisfaction, the next we took into
+consideration was, to determine in what manner we should inform
+M’Kenrie of the favourable Opinion Janetta entertained of him.... We at
+length agreed to acquaint him with it by an anonymous Letter which
+Sophia drew up in the following manner.
+
+“Oh! happy Lover of the beautifull Janetta, oh! amiable Possessor of
+_her_ Heart whose hand is destined to another, why do you thus delay a
+confession of your attachment to the amiable Object of it? Oh! consider
+that a few weeks will at once put an end to every flattering Hope that
+you may now entertain, by uniting the unfortunate Victim of her
+father’s Cruelty to the execrable and detested Graham.”
+
+“Alas! why do you thus so cruelly connive at the projected Misery of
+her and of yourself by delaying to communicate that scheme which had
+doubtless long possessed your imagination? A secret Union will at once
+secure the felicity of both.”
+
+The amiable M’Kenrie, whose modesty as he afterwards assured us had
+been the only reason of his having so long concealed the violence of
+his affection for Janetta, on receiving this Billet flew on the wings
+of Love to Macdonald-Hall, and so powerfully pleaded his Attachment to
+her who inspired it, that after a few more private interveiws, Sophia
+and I experienced the satisfaction of seeing them depart for
+Gretna-Green, which they chose for the celebration of their Nuptials,
+in preference to any other place although it was at a considerable
+distance from Macdonald-Hall.
+
+Adeiu
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the 13th
+LAURA in continuation
+
+
+They had been gone nearly a couple of Hours, before either Macdonald or
+Graham had entertained any suspicion of the affair. And they might not
+even then have suspected it, but for the following little Accident.
+Sophia happening one day to open a private Drawer in Macdonald’s
+Library with one of her own keys, discovered that it was the Place
+where he kept his Papers of consequence and amongst them some bank
+notes of considerable amount. This discovery she imparted to me; and
+having agreed together that it would be a proper treatment of so vile a
+Wretch as Macdonald to deprive him of money, perhaps dishonestly
+gained, it was determined that the next time we should either of us
+happen to go that way, we would take one or more of the Bank notes from
+the drawer. This well meant Plan we had often successfully put in
+Execution; but alas! on the very day of Janetta’s Escape, as Sophia was
+majestically removing the 5th Bank-note from the Drawer to her own
+purse, she was suddenly most impertinently interrupted in her
+employment by the entrance of Macdonald himself, in a most abrupt and
+precipitate Manner. Sophia (who though naturally all winning sweetness
+could when occasions demanded it call forth the Dignity of her sex)
+instantly put on a most forbidding look, and darting an angry frown on
+the undaunted culprit, demanded in a haughty tone of voice “Wherefore
+her retirement was thus insolently broken in on?” The unblushing
+Macdonald, without even endeavouring to exculpate himself from the
+crime he was charged with, meanly endeavoured to reproach Sophia with
+ignobly defrauding him of his money... The dignity of Sophia was
+wounded; “Wretch (exclaimed she, hastily replacing the Bank-note in the
+Drawer) how darest thou to accuse me of an Act, of which the bare idea
+makes me blush?” The base wretch was still unconvinced and continued to
+upbraid the justly-offended Sophia in such opprobious Language, that at
+length he so greatly provoked the gentle sweetness of her Nature, as to
+induce her to revenge herself on him by informing him of Janetta’s
+Elopement, and of the active Part we had both taken in the affair. At
+this period of their Quarrel I entered the Library and was as you may
+imagine equally offended as Sophia at the ill-grounded accusations of
+the malevolent and contemptible Macdonald. “Base Miscreant! (cried I)
+how canst thou thus undauntedly endeavour to sully the spotless
+reputation of such bright Excellence? Why dost thou not suspect _my_
+innocence as soon?” “Be satisfied Madam (replied he) I _do_ suspect it,
+and therefore must desire that you will both leave this House in less
+than half an hour.”
+
+“We shall go willingly; (answered Sophia) our hearts have long detested
+thee, and nothing but our freindship for thy Daughter could have
+induced us to remain so long beneath thy roof.”
+
+“Your Freindship for my Daughter has indeed been most powerfully
+exerted by throwing her into the arms of an unprincipled
+Fortune-hunter.” (replied he)
+
+“Yes, (exclaimed I) amidst every misfortune, it will afford us some
+consolation to reflect that by this one act of Freindship to Janetta,
+we have amply discharged every obligation that we have received from
+her father.”
+
+“It must indeed be a most gratefull reflection, to your exalted minds.”
+(said he.)
+
+As soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left
+Macdonald Hall, and after having walked about a mile and a half we sate
+down by the side of a clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted
+limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms
+sheltered us from the East—. A Bed of full-grown Nettles from the
+West—. Before us ran the murmuring brook and behind us ran the
+turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and in a
+Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot. A mutual silence which had
+for some time reigned between us, was at length broke by my
+exclaiming—“What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and Augustus
+here to enjoy its Beauties with us?”
+
+“Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity’s sake forbear recalling
+to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned Husband. Alas,
+what would I not give to learn the fate of my Augustus! to know if he
+is still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so
+far to conquer my tender sensibility as to enquire after him. Oh! do
+not I beseech you ever let me again hear you repeat his beloved name—.
+It affects me too deeply—. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it
+wounds my feelings.”
+
+“Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly offended you—” replied
+I—and then changing the conversation, desired her to admire the noble
+Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern Zephyr. “Alas!
+my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a subject, I intreat you.
+Do not again wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms. They
+remind me of Augustus. He was like them, tall, magestic—he possessed
+that noble grandeur which you admire in them.”
+
+I was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her
+by fixing on any other subject of conversation which might again remind
+her of Augustus.
+
+“Why do you not speak my Laura? (said she after a short pause) “I
+cannot support this silence you must not leave me to my own
+reflections; they ever recur to Augustus.”
+
+“What a beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly is the azure varied by
+those delicate streaks of white!”
+
+“Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her Eyes from a
+momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my
+Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus’s
+blue sattin waistcoat striped in white! In pity to your unhappy freind
+avoid a subject so distressing.” What could I do? The feelings of
+Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt for
+Augustus so poignant that I had not power to start any other topic,
+justly fearing that it might in some unforseen manner again awaken all
+her sensibility by directing her thoughts to her Husband. Yet to be
+silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk.
+
+From this Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly
+apropos; it was the lucky overturning of a Gentleman’s Phaeton, on the
+road which ran murmuring behind us. It was a most fortunate accident as
+it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections
+which she had been before indulging. We instantly quitted our seats and
+ran to the rescue of those who but a few moments before had been in so
+elevated a situation as a fashionably high Phaeton, but who were now
+laid low and sprawling in the Dust. “What an ample subject for
+reflection on the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that
+Phaeton and the Life of Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!” said I
+to Sophia as we were hastening to the field of Action.
+
+She had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the
+horrid spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most elegantly attired but
+weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes—we
+approached—they were Edward and Augustus—. Yes dearest Marianne they
+were our Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on the ground—I screamed
+and instantly ran mad—. We remained thus mutually deprived of our
+senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of them
+again. For an Hour and a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate
+situation—Sophia fainting every moment and I running mad as often. At
+length a groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of
+life) restored us to ourselves. Had we indeed before imagined that
+either of them lived, we should have been more sparing of our Greif—but
+as we had supposed when we first beheld them that they were no more, we
+knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we were about. No
+sooner did we therefore hear my Edward’s groan than postponing our
+lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and
+kneeling on each side of him implored him not to die—. “Laura (said He
+fixing his now languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned.”
+
+I was overjoyed to find him yet sensible.
+
+“Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you before you die, what
+has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus was arrested
+and we were separated—”
+
+“I will” (said he) and instantly fetching a deep sigh, Expired—. Sophia
+immediately sank again into a swoon—. _My_ greif was more audible. My
+Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant stare, my face became as pale
+as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired—.
+
+“Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent
+manner)—Give me a violin—. I’ll play to him and sooth him in his
+melancholy Hours—Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid’s Thunderbolts, avoid
+the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of Firs—I see a Leg
+of Mutton—They told me Edward was not Dead; but they deceived me—they
+took him for a cucumber—” Thus I continued wildly exclaiming on my
+Edward’s Death—. For two Hours did I rave thus madly and should not
+then have left off, as I was not in the least fatigued, had not Sophia
+who was just recovered from her swoon, intreated me to consider that
+Night was now approaching and that the Damps began to fall. “And
+whither shall we go (said I) to shelter us from either?” “To that white
+Cottage.” (replied she pointing to a neat Building which rose up amidst
+the grove of Elms and which I had not before observed—) I agreed and we
+instantly walked to it—we knocked at the door—it was opened by an old
+woman; on being requested to afford us a Night’s Lodging, she informed
+us that her House was but small, that she had only two Bedrooms, but
+that However we should be wellcome to one of them. We were satisfied
+and followed the good woman into the House where we were greatly
+cheered by the sight of a comfortable fire—. She was a widow and had
+only one Daughter, who was then just seventeen—One of the best of ages;
+but alas! she was very plain and her name was Bridget..... Nothing
+therfore could be expected from her—she could not be supposed to
+possess either exalted Ideas, Delicate Feelings or refined
+Sensibilities—. She was nothing more than a mere good-tempered, civil
+and obliging young woman; as such we could scarcely dislike here—she
+was only an Object of Contempt—.
+
+Adeiu
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the 14th
+LAURA in continuation
+
+
+Arm yourself my amiable young Freind with all the philosophy you are
+Mistress of; summon up all the fortitude you possess, for alas! in the
+perusal of the following Pages your sensibility will be most severely
+tried. Ah! what were the misfortunes I had before experienced and which
+I have already related to you, to the one I am now going to inform you
+of. The Death of my Father and my Mother and my Husband though almost
+more than my gentle Nature could support, were trifles in comparison to
+the misfortune I am now proceeding to relate. The morning after our
+arrival at the Cottage, Sophia complained of a violent pain in her
+delicate limbs, accompanied with a disagreable Head-ake. She attributed
+it to a cold caught by her continued faintings in the open air as the
+Dew was falling the Evening before. This I feared was but too probably
+the case; since how could it be otherwise accounted for that I should
+have escaped the same indisposition, but by supposing that the bodily
+Exertions I had undergone in my repeated fits of frenzy had so
+effectually circulated and warmed my Blood as to make me proof against
+the chilling Damps of Night, whereas, Sophia lying totally inactive on
+the ground must have been exposed to all their severity. I was most
+seriously alarmed by her illness which trifling as it may appear to
+you, a certain instinctive sensibility whispered me, would in the End
+be fatal to her.
+
+Alas! my fears were but too fully justified; she grew gradually
+worse—and I daily became more alarmed for her. At length she was
+obliged to confine herself solely to the Bed allotted us by our worthy
+Landlady—. Her disorder turned to a galloping Consumption and in a few
+days carried her off. Amidst all my Lamentations for her (and violent
+you may suppose they were) I yet received some consolation in the
+reflection of my having paid every attention to her, that could be
+offered, in her illness. I had wept over her every Day—had bathed her
+sweet face with my tears and had pressed her fair Hands continually in
+mine—. “My beloved Laura (said she to me a few Hours before she died)
+take warning from my unhappy End and avoid the imprudent conduct which
+had occasioned it... Beware of fainting-fits... Though at the time they
+may be refreshing and agreable yet beleive me they will in the end, if
+too often repeated and at improper seasons, prove destructive to your
+Constitution... My fate will teach you this.. I die a Martyr to my
+greif for the loss of Augustus.. One fatal swoon has cost me my Life..
+Beware of swoons Dear Laura.... A frenzy fit is not one quarter so
+pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I
+dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as
+you chuse; but do not faint—”
+
+These were the last words she ever addressed to me.. It was her dieing
+Advice to her afflicted Laura, who has ever most faithfully adhered to
+it.
+
+After having attended my lamented freind to her Early Grave, I
+immediately (tho’ late at night) left the detested Village in which she
+died, and near which had expired my Husband and Augustus. I had not
+walked many yards from it before I was overtaken by a stage-coach, in
+which I instantly took a place, determined to proceed in it to
+Edinburgh, where I hoped to find some kind some pitying Freind who
+would receive and comfort me in my afflictions.
+
+It was so dark when I entered the Coach that I could not distinguish
+the Number of my Fellow-travellers; I could only perceive that they
+were many. Regardless however of anything concerning them, I gave
+myself up to my own sad Reflections. A general silence prevailed—A
+silence, which was by nothing interrupted but by the loud and repeated
+snores of one of the Party.
+
+“What an illiterate villain must that man be! (thought I to myself)
+What a total want of delicate refinement must he have, who can thus
+shock our senses by such a brutal noise! He must I am certain be
+capable of every bad action! There is no crime too black for such a
+Character!” Thus reasoned I within myself, and doubtless such were the
+reflections of my fellow travellers.
+
+At length, returning Day enabled me to behold the unprincipled
+Scoundrel who had so violently disturbed my feelings. It was Sir Edward
+the father of my Deceased Husband. By his side sate Augusta, and on the
+same seat with me were your Mother and Lady Dorothea. Imagine my
+surprise at finding myself thus seated amongst my old Acquaintance.
+Great as was my astonishment, it was yet increased, when on looking out
+of Windows, I beheld the Husband of Philippa, with Philippa by his
+side, on the Coachbox and when on looking behind I beheld, Philander
+and Gustavus in the Basket. “Oh! Heavens, (exclaimed I) is it possible
+that I should so unexpectedly be surrounded by my nearest Relations and
+Connections?” These words roused the rest of the Party, and every eye
+was directed to the corner in which I sat. “Oh! my Isabel (continued I
+throwing myself across Lady Dorothea into her arms) receive once more
+to your Bosom the unfortunate Laura. Alas! when we last parted in the
+Vale of Usk, I was happy in being united to the best of Edwards; I had
+then a Father and a Mother, and had never known misfortunes—But now
+deprived of every freind but you—”
+
+“What! (interrupted Augusta) is my Brother dead then? Tell us I intreat
+you what is become of him?” “Yes, cold and insensible Nymph, (replied
+I) that luckless swain your Brother, is no more, and you may now glory
+in being the Heiress of Sir Edward’s fortune.”
+
+Although I had always despised her from the Day I had overheard her
+conversation with my Edward, yet in civility I complied with hers and
+Sir Edward’s intreaties that I would inform them of the whole
+melancholy affair. They were greatly shocked—even the obdurate Heart of
+Sir Edward and the insensible one of Augusta, were touched with sorrow,
+by the unhappy tale. At the request of your Mother I related to them
+every other misfortune which had befallen me since we parted. Of the
+imprisonment of Augustus and the absence of Edward—of our arrival in
+Scotland—of our unexpected Meeting with our Grand-father and our
+cousins—of our visit to Macdonald-Hall—of the singular service we there
+performed towards Janetta—of her Fathers ingratitude for it.. of his
+inhuman Behaviour, unaccountable suspicions, and barbarous treatment of
+us, in obliging us to leave the House.. of our lamentations on the loss
+of Edward and Augustus and finally of the melancholy Death of my
+beloved Companion.
+
+Pity and surprise were strongly depictured in your Mother’s
+countenance, during the whole of my narration, but I am sorry to say,
+that to the eternal reproach of her sensibility, the latter infinitely
+predominated. Nay, faultless as my conduct had certainly been during
+the whole course of my late misfortunes and adventures, she pretended
+to find fault with my behaviour in many of the situations in which I
+had been placed. As I was sensible myself, that I had always behaved in
+a manner which reflected Honour on my Feelings and Refinement, I paid
+little attention to what she said, and desired her to satisfy my
+Curiosity by informing me how she came there, instead of wounding my
+spotless reputation with unjustifiable Reproaches. As soon as she had
+complyed with my wishes in this particular and had given me an accurate
+detail of every thing that had befallen her since our separation (the
+particulars of which if you are not already acquainted with, your
+Mother will give you) I applied to Augusta for the same information
+respecting herself, Sir Edward and Lady Dorothea.
+
+She told me that having a considerable taste for the Beauties of
+Nature, her curiosity to behold the delightful scenes it exhibited in
+that part of the World had been so much raised by Gilpin’s Tour to the
+Highlands, that she had prevailed on her Father to undertake a Tour to
+Scotland and had persuaded Lady Dorothea to accompany them. That they
+had arrived at Edinburgh a few Days before and from thence had made
+daily Excursions into the Country around in the Stage Coach they were
+then in, from one of which Excursions they were at that time returning.
+My next enquiries were concerning Philippa and her Husband, the latter
+of whom I learned having spent all her fortune, had recourse for
+subsistence to the talent in which, he had always most excelled,
+namely, Driving, and that having sold every thing which belonged to
+them except their Coach, had converted it into a Stage and in order to
+be removed from any of his former Acquaintance, had driven it to
+Edinburgh from whence he went to Sterling every other Day. That
+Philippa still retaining her affection for her ungratefull Husband, had
+followed him to Scotland and generally accompanied him in his little
+Excursions to Sterling. “It has only been to throw a little money into
+their Pockets (continued Augusta) that my Father has always travelled
+in their Coach to veiw the beauties of the Country since our arrival in
+Scotland—for it would certainly have been much more agreable to us, to
+visit the Highlands in a Postchaise than merely to travel from
+Edinburgh to Sterling and from Sterling to Edinburgh every other Day in
+a crowded and uncomfortable Stage.” I perfectly agreed with her in her
+sentiments on the affair, and secretly blamed Sir Edward for thus
+sacrificing his Daughter’s Pleasure for the sake of a ridiculous old
+woman whose folly in marrying so young a man ought to be punished. His
+Behaviour however was entirely of a peice with his general Character;
+for what could be expected from a man who possessed not the smallest
+atom of Sensibility, who scarcely knew the meaning of simpathy, and who
+actually snored—.
+
+Adeiu
+Laura.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the 15th
+LAURA in continuation.
+
+
+When we arrived at the town where we were to Breakfast, I was
+determined to speak with Philander and Gustavus, and to that purpose as
+soon as I left the Carriage, I went to the Basket and tenderly enquired
+after their Health, expressing my fears of the uneasiness of their
+situation. At first they seemed rather confused at my appearance
+dreading no doubt that I might call them to account for the money which
+our Grandfather had left me and which they had unjustly deprived me of,
+but finding that I mentioned nothing of the Matter, they desired me to
+step into the Basket as we might there converse with greater ease.
+Accordingly I entered and whilst the rest of the party were devouring
+green tea and buttered toast, we feasted ourselves in a more refined
+and sentimental Manner by a confidential Conversation. I informed them
+of every thing which had befallen me during the course of my life, and
+at my request they related to me every incident of theirs.
+
+“We are the sons as you already know, of the two youngest Daughters
+which Lord St Clair had by Laurina an italian opera girl. Our mothers
+could neither of them exactly ascertain who were our Father, though it
+is generally beleived that Philander, is the son of one Philip Jones a
+Bricklayer and that my Father was one Gregory Staves a Staymaker of
+Edinburgh. This is however of little consequence for as our Mothers
+were certainly never married to either of them it reflects no Dishonour
+on our Blood, which is of a most ancient and unpolluted kind. Bertha
+(the Mother of Philander) and Agatha (my own Mother) always lived
+together. They were neither of them very rich; their united fortunes
+had originally amounted to nine thousand Pounds, but as they had always
+lived on the principal of it, when we were fifteen it was diminished to
+nine Hundred. This nine Hundred they always kept in a Drawer in one of
+the Tables which stood in our common sitting Parlour, for the
+convenience of having it always at Hand. Whether it was from this
+circumstance, of its being easily taken, or from a wish of being
+independant, or from an excess of sensibility (for which we were always
+remarkable) I cannot now determine, but certain it is that when we had
+reached our 15th year, we took the nine Hundred Pounds and ran away.
+Having obtained this prize we were determined to manage it with
+economy and not to spend it either with folly or Extravagance. To this
+purpose we therefore divided it into nine parcels, one of which we
+devoted to Victuals, the 2d to Drink, the 3d to Housekeeping, the 4th
+to Carriages, the 5th to Horses, the 6th to Servants, the 7th to
+Amusements, the 8th to Cloathes and the 9th to Silver Buckles. Having
+thus arranged our Expences for two months (for we expected to make the
+nine Hundred Pounds last as long) we hastened to London and had the
+good luck to spend it in 7 weeks and a Day which was 6 Days sooner than
+we had intended. As soon as we had thus happily disencumbered ourselves
+from the weight of so much money, we began to think of returning to our
+Mothers, but accidentally hearing that they were both starved to Death,
+we gave over the design and determined to engage ourselves to some
+strolling Company of Players, as we had always a turn for the Stage.
+Accordingly we offered our services to one and were accepted; our
+Company was indeed rather small, as it consisted only of the Manager
+his wife and ourselves, but there were fewer to pay and the only
+inconvenience attending it was the Scarcity of Plays which for want of
+People to fill the Characters, we could perform. We did not mind
+trifles however—. One of our most admired Performances was _Macbeth_,
+in which we were truly great. The Manager always played _Banquo_
+himself, his Wife my _Lady Macbeth_. I did the _Three Witches_ and
+Philander acted _all the rest_. To say the truth this tragedy was not
+only the Best, but the only Play that we ever performed; and after
+having acted it all over England, and Wales, we came to Scotland to
+exhibit it over the remainder of Great Britain. We happened to be
+quartered in that very Town, where you came and met your Grandfather—.
+We were in the Inn-yard when his Carriage entered and perceiving by the
+arms to whom it belonged, and knowing that Lord St Clair was our
+Grandfather, we agreed to endeavour to get something from him by
+discovering the Relationship—. You know how well it succeeded—. Having
+obtained the two Hundred Pounds, we instantly left the Town, leaving
+our Manager and his Wife to act _Macbeth_ by themselves, and took the
+road to Sterling, where we spent our little fortune with great _eclat_.
+We are now returning to Edinburgh in order to get some preferment in
+the Acting way; and such my Dear Cousin is our History.”
+
+I thanked the amiable Youth for his entertaining narration, and after
+expressing my wishes for their Welfare and Happiness, left them in
+their little Habitation and returned to my other Freinds who
+impatiently expected me.
+
+My adventures are now drawing to a close my dearest Marianne; at least
+for the present.
+
+When we arrived at Edinburgh Sir Edward told me that as the Widow of
+his son, he desired I would accept from his Hands of four Hundred a
+year. I graciously promised that I would, but could not help observing
+that the unsimpathetic Baronet offered it more on account of my being
+the Widow of Edward than in being the refined and amiable Laura.
+
+I took up my Residence in a Romantic Village in the Highlands of
+Scotland where I have ever since continued, and where I can
+uninterrupted by unmeaning Visits, indulge in a melancholy solitude, my
+unceasing Lamentations for the Death of my Father, my Mother, my
+Husband and my Freind.
+
+Augusta has been for several years united to Graham the Man of all
+others most suited to her; she became acquainted with him during her
+stay in Scotland.
+
+Sir Edward in hopes of gaining an Heir to his Title and Estate, at the
+same time married Lady Dorothea—. His wishes have been answered.
+
+Philander and Gustavus, after having raised their reputation by their
+Performances in the Theatrical Line at Edinburgh, removed to Covent
+Garden, where they still exhibit under the assumed names of _Luvis_ and
+_Quick_.
+
+Philippa has long paid the Debt of Nature, Her Husband however still
+continues to drive the Stage-Coach from Edinburgh to Sterling:—
+
+Adeiu my Dearest Marianne.
+Laura.
+
+
+Finis
+
+
+June 13th 1790.
+
+
+
+
+LESLEY CASTLE
+AN UNFINISHED NOVEL IN LETTERS
+
+
+To HENRY THOMAS AUSTEN Esqre.
+
+
+Sir
+
+I am now availing myself of the Liberty you have frequently honoured me
+with of dedicating one of my Novels to you. That it is unfinished, I
+greive; yet fear that from me, it will always remain so; that as far as
+it is carried, it should be so trifling and so unworthy of you, is
+another concern to your obliged humble
+
+Servant
+The Author
+
+
+Messrs Demand and Co—please to pay Jane Austen Spinster the sum of one
+hundred guineas on account of your Humble Servant.
+
+H. T. Austen
+
+
+£105. 0. 0.
+
+
+
+
+LESLEY CASTLE
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FIRST is from
+Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+
+
+Lesley Castle Janry 3rd—1792.
+
+My Brother has just left us. “Matilda (said he at parting) you and
+Margaret will I am certain take all the care of my dear little one,
+that she might have received from an indulgent, and affectionate and
+amiable Mother.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke these
+words—the remembrance of her, who had so wantonly disgraced the
+Maternal character and so openly violated the conjugal Duties,
+prevented his adding anything farther; he embraced his sweet Child and
+after saluting Matilda and Me hastily broke from us and seating himself
+in his Chaise, pursued the road to Aberdeen. Never was there a better
+young Man! Ah! how little did he deserve the misfortunes he has
+experienced in the Marriage state. So good a Husband to so bad a Wife!
+for you know my dear Charlotte that the Worthless Louisa left him, her
+Child and reputation a few weeks ago in company with Danvers and
+dishonour. Never was there a sweeter face, a finer form, or a less
+amiable Heart than Louisa owned! Her child already possesses the
+personal Charms of her unhappy Mother! May she inherit from her Father
+all his mental ones! Lesley is at present but five and twenty, and has
+already given himself up to melancholy and Despair; what a difference
+between him and his Father! Sir George is 57 and still remains the
+Beau, the flighty stripling, the gay Lad, and sprightly Youngster, that
+his Son was really about five years back, and that _he_ has affected to
+appear ever since my remembrance. While our father is fluttering about
+the streets of London, gay, dissipated, and Thoughtless at the age of
+57, Matilda and I continue secluded from Mankind in our old and
+Mouldering Castle, which is situated two miles from Perth on a bold
+projecting Rock, and commands an extensive veiw of the Town and its
+delightful Environs. But tho’ retired from almost all the World, (for
+we visit no one but the M’Leods, The M’Kenzies, the M’Phersons, the
+M’Cartneys, the M’Donalds, The M’kinnons, the M’lellans, the M’kays,
+the Macbeths and the Macduffs) we are neither dull nor unhappy; on the
+contrary there never were two more lively, more agreable or more witty
+girls, than we are; not an hour in the Day hangs heavy on our Hands. We
+read, we work, we walk, and when fatigued with these Employments
+releive our spirits, either by a lively song, a graceful Dance, or by
+some smart bon-mot, and witty repartee. We are handsome my dear
+Charlotte, very handsome and the greatest of our Perfections is, that
+we are entirely insensible of them ourselves. But why do I thus dwell
+on myself! Let me rather repeat the praise of our dear little Neice the
+innocent Louisa, who is at present sweetly smiling in a gentle Nap, as
+she reposes on the sofa. The dear Creature is just turned of two years
+old; as handsome as tho’ 2 and 20, as sensible as tho’ 2 and 30, and as
+prudent as tho’ 2 and 40. To convince you of this, I must inform you
+that she has a very fine complexion and very pretty features, that she
+already knows the two first letters in the Alphabet, and that she never
+tears her frocks—. If I have not now convinced you of her Beauty, Sense
+and Prudence, I have nothing more to urge in support of my assertion,
+and you will therefore have no way of deciding the Affair but by coming
+to Lesley-Castle, and by a personal acquaintance with Louisa, determine
+for yourself. Ah! my dear Freind, how happy should I be to see you
+within these venerable Walls! It is now four years since my removal
+from School has separated me from you; that two such tender Hearts, so
+closely linked together by the ties of simpathy and Freindship, should
+be so widely removed from each other, is vastly moving. I live in
+Perthshire, You in Sussex. We might meet in London, were my Father
+disposed to carry me there, and were your Mother to be there at the
+same time. We might meet at Bath, at Tunbridge, or anywhere else
+indeed, could we but be at the same place together. We have only to
+hope that such a period may arrive. My Father does not return to us
+till Autumn; my Brother will leave Scotland in a few Days; he is
+impatient to travel. Mistaken Youth! He vainly flatters himself that
+change of Air will heal the Wounds of a broken Heart! You will join
+with me I am certain my dear Charlotte, in prayers for the recovery of
+the unhappy Lesley’s peace of Mind, which must ever be essential to
+that of your sincere freind
+
+M. Lesley.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the SECOND
+From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY in answer.
+
+
+Glenford Febry 12
+
+I have a thousand excuses to beg for having so long delayed thanking
+you my dear Peggy for your agreable Letter, which beleive me I should
+not have deferred doing, had not every moment of my time during the
+last five weeks been so fully employed in the necessary arrangements
+for my sisters wedding, as to allow me no time to devote either to you
+or myself. And now what provokes me more than anything else is that the
+Match is broke off, and all my Labour thrown away. Imagine how great
+the Dissapointment must be to me, when you consider that after having
+laboured both by Night and by Day, in order to get the Wedding dinner
+ready by the time appointed, after having roasted Beef, Broiled Mutton,
+and Stewed Soup enough to last the new-married Couple through the
+Honey-moon, I had the mortification of finding that I had been
+Roasting, Broiling and Stewing both the Meat and Myself to no purpose.
+Indeed my dear Freind, I never remember suffering any vexation equal to
+what I experienced on last Monday when my sister came running to me in
+the store-room with her face as White as a Whipt syllabub, and told me
+that Hervey had been thrown from his Horse, had fractured his Scull and
+was pronounced by his surgeon to be in the most emminent Danger. “Good
+God! (said I) you dont say so? Why what in the name of Heaven will
+become of all the Victuals! We shall never be able to eat it while it
+is good. However, we’ll call in the Surgeon to help us. I shall be able
+to manage the Sir-loin myself, my Mother will eat the soup, and You and
+the Doctor must finish the rest.” Here I was interrupted, by seeing my
+poor Sister fall down to appearance Lifeless upon one of the Chests,
+where we keep our Table linen. I immediately called my Mother and the
+Maids, and at last we brought her to herself again; as soon as ever she
+was sensible, she expressed a determination of going instantly to
+Henry, and was so wildly bent on this Scheme, that we had the greatest
+Difficulty in the World to prevent her putting it in execution; at last
+however more by Force than Entreaty we prevailed on her to go into her
+room; we laid her upon the Bed, and she continued for some Hours in the
+most dreadful Convulsions. My Mother and I continued in the room with
+her, and when any intervals of tolerable Composure in Eloisa would
+allow us, we joined in heartfelt lamentations on the dreadful Waste in
+our provisions which this Event must occasion, and in concerting some
+plan for getting rid of them. We agreed that the best thing we could do
+was to begin eating them immediately, and accordingly we ordered up the
+cold Ham and Fowls, and instantly began our Devouring Plan on them with
+great Alacrity. We would have persuaded Eloisa to have taken a Wing of
+a Chicken, but she would not be persuaded. She was however much quieter
+than she had been; the convulsions she had before suffered having given
+way to an almost perfect Insensibility. We endeavoured to rouse her by
+every means in our power, but to no purpose. I talked to her of Henry.
+“Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occasion for your crying so much about
+such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order to
+comfort her) I beg you would not mind it—You see it does not vex me in
+the least; though perhaps I may suffer most from it after all; for I
+shall not only be obliged to eat up all the Victuals I have dressed
+already, but must if Henry should recover (which however is not very
+likely) dress as much for you again; or should he die (as I suppose he
+will) I shall still have to prepare a Dinner for you whenever you marry
+any one else. So you see that tho’ perhaps for the present it may
+afflict you to think of Henry’s sufferings, Yet I dare say he’ll die
+soon, and then his pain will be over and you will be easy, whereas my
+Trouble will last much longer for work as hard as I may, I am certain
+that the pantry cannot be cleared in less than a fortnight.” Thus I did
+all in my power to console her, but without any effect, and at last as
+I saw that she did not seem to listen to me, I said no more, but
+leaving her with my Mother I took down the remains of The Ham and
+Chicken, and sent William to ask how Henry did. He was not expected to
+live many Hours; he died the same day. We took all possible care to
+break the melancholy Event to Eloisa in the tenderest manner; yet in
+spite of every precaution, her sufferings on hearing it were too
+violent for her reason, and she continued for many hours in a high
+Delirium. She is still extremely ill, and her Physicians are greatly
+afraid of her going into a Decline. We are therefore preparing for
+Bristol, where we mean to be in the course of the next week. And now my
+dear Margaret let me talk a little of your affairs; and in the first
+place I must inform you that it is confidently reported, your Father is
+going to be married; I am very unwilling to beleive so unpleasing a
+report, and at the same time cannot wholly discredit it. I have written
+to my freind Susan Fitzgerald, for information concerning it, which as
+she is at present in Town, she will be very able to give me. I know not
+who is the Lady. I think your Brother is extremely right in the
+resolution he has taken of travelling, as it will perhaps contribute to
+obliterate from his remembrance, those disagreable Events, which have
+lately so much afflicted him—I am happy to find that tho’ secluded from
+all the World, neither you nor Matilda are dull or unhappy—that you may
+never know what it is to, be either is the wish of your sincerely
+affectionate
+
+C.L.
+
+
+P. S. I have this instant received an answer from my freind Susan,
+which I enclose to you, and on which you will make your own
+reflections.
+
+The enclosed LETTER
+
+My dear CHARLOTTE
+
+You could not have applied for information concerning the report of Sir
+George Lesleys Marriage, to any one better able to give it you than I
+am. Sir George is certainly married; I was myself present at the
+Ceremony, which you will not be surprised at when I subscribe myself
+your
+
+Affectionate
+Susan Lesley
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the THIRD
+From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss C. LUTTERELL
+
+
+Lesley Castle February the 16th
+
+I _have_ made my own reflections on the letter you enclosed to me, my
+Dear Charlotte and I will now tell you what those reflections were. I
+reflected that if by this second Marriage Sir George should have a
+second family, our fortunes must be considerably diminushed—that if his
+Wife should be of an extravagant turn, she would encourage him to
+persevere in that gay and Dissipated way of Life to which little
+encouragement would be necessary, and which has I fear already proved
+but too detrimental to his health and fortune—that she would now become
+Mistress of those Jewels which once adorned our Mother, and which Sir
+George had always promised us—that if they did not come into Perthshire
+I should not be able to gratify my curiosity of beholding my
+Mother-in-law and that if they did, Matilda would no longer sit at the
+head of her Father’s table—. These my dear Charlotte were the
+melancholy reflections which crowded into my imagination after perusing
+Susan’s letter to you, and which instantly occurred to Matilda when she
+had perused it likewise. The same ideas, the same fears, immediately
+occupied her Mind, and I know not which reflection distressed her most,
+whether the probable Diminution of our Fortunes, or her own
+Consequence. We both wish very much to know whether Lady Lesley is
+handsome and what is your opinion of her; as you honour her with the
+appellation of your freind, we flatter ourselves that she must be
+amiable. My Brother is already in Paris. He intends to quit it in a few
+Days, and to begin his route to Italy. He writes in a most chearfull
+manner, says that the air of France has greatly recovered both his
+Health and Spirits; that he has now entirely ceased to think of Louisa
+with any degree either of Pity or Affection, that he even feels himself
+obliged to her for her Elopement, as he thinks it very good fun to be
+single again. By this, you may perceive that he has entirely regained
+that chearful Gaiety, and sprightly Wit, for which he was once so
+remarkable. When he first became acquainted with Louisa which was
+little more than three years ago, he was one of the most lively, the
+most agreable young Men of the age—. I beleive you never yet heard the
+particulars of his first acquaintance with her. It commenced at our
+cousin Colonel Drummond’s; at whose house in Cumberland he spent the
+Christmas, in which he attained the age of two and twenty. Louisa
+Burton was the Daughter of a distant Relation of Mrs. Drummond, who
+dieing a few Months before in extreme poverty, left his only Child then
+about eighteen to the protection of any of his Relations who would
+protect her. Mrs. Drummond was the only one who found herself so
+disposed—Louisa was therefore removed from a miserable Cottage in
+Yorkshire to an elegant Mansion in Cumberland, and from every pecuniary
+Distress that Poverty could inflict, to every elegant Enjoyment that
+Money could purchase—. Louisa was naturally ill-tempered and Cunning;
+but she had been taught to disguise her real Disposition, under the
+appearance of insinuating Sweetness, by a father who but too well knew,
+that to be married, would be the only chance she would have of not
+being starved, and who flattered himself that with such an extroidinary
+share of personal beauty, joined to a gentleness of Manners, and an
+engaging address, she might stand a good chance of pleasing some young
+Man who might afford to marry a girl without a Shilling. Louisa
+perfectly entered into her father’s schemes and was determined to
+forward them with all her care and attention. By dint of Perseverance
+and Application, she had at length so thoroughly disguised her natural
+disposition under the mask of Innocence, and Softness, as to impose
+upon every one who had not by a long and constant intimacy with her
+discovered her real Character. Such was Louisa when the hapless Lesley
+first beheld her at Drummond-house. His heart which (to use your
+favourite comparison) was as delicate as sweet and as tender as a
+Whipt-syllabub, could not resist her attractions. In a very few Days,
+he was falling in love, shortly after actually fell, and before he had
+known her a Month, he had married her. My Father was at first highly
+displeased at so hasty and imprudent a connection; but when he found
+that they did not mind it, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the
+match. The Estate near Aberdeen which my brother possesses by the
+bounty of his great Uncle independant of Sir George, was entirely
+sufficient to support him and my Sister in Elegance and Ease. For the
+first twelvemonth, no one could be happier than Lesley, and no one more
+amiable to appearance than Louisa, and so plausibly did she act and so
+cautiously behave that tho’ Matilda and I often spent several weeks
+together with them, yet we neither of us had any suspicion of her real
+Disposition. After the birth of Louisa however, which one would have
+thought would have strengthened her regard for Lesley, the mask she had
+so long supported was by degrees thrown aside, and as probably she then
+thought herself secure in the affection of her Husband (which did
+indeed appear if possible augmented by the birth of his Child) she
+seemed to take no pains to prevent that affection from ever
+diminushing. Our visits therefore to Dunbeath, were now less frequent
+and by far less agreable than they used to be. Our absence was however
+never either mentioned or lamented by Louisa who in the society of
+young Danvers with whom she became acquainted at Aberdeen (he was at
+one of the Universities there,) felt infinitely happier than in that of
+Matilda and your freind, tho’ there certainly never were pleasanter
+girls than we are. You know the sad end of all Lesleys connubial
+happiness; I will not repeat it—. Adeiu my dear Charlotte; although I
+have not yet mentioned anything of the matter, I hope you will do me
+the justice to beleive that I _think_ and _feel_, a great deal for your
+Sisters affliction. I do not doubt but that the healthy air of the
+Bristol downs will intirely remove it, by erasing from her Mind the
+remembrance of Henry. I am my dear Charlotte yrs ever
+
+M. L.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FOURTH
+From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY
+
+
+Bristol February 27th
+
+My Dear Peggy
+
+I have but just received your letter, which being directed to Sussex
+while I was at Bristol was obliged to be forwarded to me here, and from
+some unaccountable Delay, has but this instant reached me—. I return
+you many thanks for the account it contains of Lesley’s acquaintance,
+Love and Marriage with Louisa, which has not the less entertained me
+for having often been repeated to me before.
+
+I have the satisfaction of informing you that we have every reason to
+imagine our pantry is by this time nearly cleared, as we left
+Particular orders with the servants to eat as hard as they possibly
+could, and to call in a couple of Chairwomen to assist them. We brought
+a cold Pigeon pye, a cold turkey, a cold tongue, and half a dozen
+Jellies with us, which we were lucky enough with the help of our
+Landlady, her husband, and their three children, to get rid of, in less
+than two days after our arrival. Poor Eloisa is still so very
+indifferent both in Health and Spirits, that I very much fear, the air
+of the Bristol downs, healthy as it is, has not been able to drive poor
+Henry from her remembrance.
+
+You ask me whether your new Mother in law is handsome and amiable—I
+will now give you an exact description of her bodily and mental charms.
+She is short, and extremely well made; is naturally pale, but rouges a
+good deal; has fine eyes, and fine teeth, as she will take care to let
+you know as soon as she sees you, and is altogether very pretty. She is
+remarkably good-tempered when she has her own way, and very lively when
+she is not out of humour. She is naturally extravagant and not very
+affected; she never reads anything but the letters she receives from
+me, and never writes anything but her answers to them. She plays, sings
+and Dances, but has no taste for either, and excells in none, tho’ she
+says she is passionately fond of all. Perhaps you may flatter me so far
+as to be surprised that one of whom I speak with so little affection
+should be my particular freind; but to tell you the truth, our
+freindship arose rather from Caprice on her side than Esteem on mine.
+We spent two or three days together with a Lady in Berkshire with whom
+we both happened to be connected—. During our visit, the Weather being
+remarkably bad, and our party particularly stupid, she was so good as
+to conceive a violent partiality for me, which very soon settled in a
+downright Freindship and ended in an established correspondence. She is
+probably by this time as tired of me, as I am of her; but as she is too
+Polite and I am too civil to say so, our letters are still as frequent
+and affectionate as ever, and our Attachment as firm and sincere as
+when it first commenced. As she had a great taste for the pleasures of
+London, and of Brighthelmstone, she will I dare say find some
+difficulty in prevailing on herself even to satisfy the curiosity I
+dare say she feels of beholding you, at the expence of quitting those
+favourite haunts of Dissipation, for the melancholy tho’ venerable
+gloom of the castle you inhabit. Perhaps however if she finds her
+health impaired by too much amusement, she may acquire fortitude
+sufficient to undertake a Journey to Scotland in the hope of its
+Proving at least beneficial to her health, if not conducive to her
+happiness. Your fears I am sorry to say, concerning your father’s
+extravagance, your own fortunes, your Mothers Jewels and your Sister’s
+consequence, I should suppose are but too well founded. My freind
+herself has four thousand pounds, and will probably spend nearly as
+much every year in Dress and Public places, if she can get it—she will
+certainly not endeavour to reclaim Sir George from the manner of living
+to which he has been so long accustomed, and there is therefore some
+reason to fear that you will be very well off, if you get any fortune
+at all. The Jewels I should imagine too will undoubtedly be hers, and
+there is too much reason to think that she will preside at her Husbands
+table in preference to his Daughter. But as so melancholy a subject
+must necessarily extremely distress you, I will no longer dwell on it—.
+
+Eloisa’s indisposition has brought us to Bristol at so unfashionable a
+season of the year, that we have actually seen but one genteel family
+since we came. Mr and Mrs Marlowe are very agreable people; the ill
+health of their little boy occasioned their arrival here; you may
+imagine that being the only family with whom we can converse, we are of
+course on a footing of intimacy with them; we see them indeed almost
+every day, and dined with them yesterday. We spent a very pleasant Day,
+and had a very good Dinner, tho’ to be sure the Veal was terribly
+underdone, and the Curry had no seasoning. I could not help wishing all
+dinner-time that I had been at the dressing it—. A brother of Mrs
+Marlowe, Mr Cleveland is with them at present; he is a good-looking
+young Man, and seems to have a good deal to say for himself. I tell
+Eloisa that she should set her cap at him, but she does not at all seem
+to relish the proposal. I should like to see the girl married and
+Cleveland has a very good estate. Perhaps you may wonder that I do not
+consider _myself_ as well as my Sister in my matrimonial Projects; but
+to tell you the truth I never wish to act a more principal part at a
+Wedding than the superintending and directing the Dinner, and therefore
+while I can get any of my acquaintance to marry for me, I shall never
+think of doing it myself, as I very much suspect that I should not have
+so much time for dressing my own Wedding-dinner, as for dressing that
+of my freinds.
+
+Yours sincerely
+C. L.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FIFTH
+Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+
+
+Lesley-Castle March 18th
+
+On the same day that I received your last kind letter, Matilda received
+one from Sir George which was dated from Edinburgh, and informed us
+that he should do himself the pleasure of introducing Lady Lesley to us
+on the following evening. This as you may suppose considerably
+surprised us, particularly as your account of her Ladyship had given us
+reason to imagine there was little chance of her visiting Scotland at a
+time that London must be so gay. As it was our business however to be
+delighted at such a mark of condescension as a visit from Sir George
+and Lady Lesley, we prepared to return them an answer expressive of the
+happiness we enjoyed in expectation of such a Blessing, when luckily
+recollecting that as they were to reach the Castle the next Evening, it
+would be impossible for my father to receive it before he left
+Edinburgh, we contented ourselves with leaving them to suppose that we
+were as happy as we ought to be. At nine in the Evening on the
+following day, they came, accompanied by one of Lady Lesleys brothers.
+Her Ladyship perfectly answers the description you sent me of her,
+except that I do not think her so pretty as you seem to consider her.
+She has not a bad face, but there is something so extremely unmajestic
+in her little diminutive figure, as to render her in comparison with
+the elegant height of Matilda and Myself, an insignificant Dwarf. Her
+curiosity to see us (which must have been great to bring her more than
+four hundred miles) being now perfectly gratified, she already begins
+to mention their return to town, and has desired us to accompany her.
+We cannot refuse her request since it is seconded by the commands of
+our Father, and thirded by the entreaties of Mr. Fitzgerald who is
+certainly one of the most pleasing young Men, I ever beheld. It is not
+yet determined when we are to go, but when ever we do we shall
+certainly take our little Louisa with us. Adeiu my dear Charlotte;
+Matilda unites in best wishes to you, and Eloisa, with yours ever
+
+M. L.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the SIXTH
+LADY LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+
+
+Lesley-Castle March 20th
+
+We arrived here my sweet Freind about a fortnight ago, and I already
+heartily repent that I ever left our charming House in Portman-square
+for such a dismal old weather-beaten Castle as this. You can form no
+idea sufficiently hideous, of its dungeon-like form. It is actually
+perched upon a Rock to appearance so totally inaccessible, that I
+expected to have been pulled up by a rope; and sincerely repented
+having gratified my curiosity to behold my Daughters at the expence of
+being obliged to enter their prison in so dangerous and ridiculous a
+manner. But as soon as I once found myself safely arrived in the inside
+of this tremendous building, I comforted myself with the hope of having
+my spirits revived, by the sight of two beautifull girls, such as the
+Miss Lesleys had been represented to me, at Edinburgh. But here again,
+I met with nothing but Disappointment and Surprise. Matilda and
+Margaret Lesley are two great, tall, out of the way, over-grown, girls,
+just of a proper size to inhabit a Castle almost as large in comparison
+as themselves. I wish my dear Charlotte that you could but behold these
+Scotch giants; I am sure they would frighten you out of your wits. They
+will do very well as foils to myself, so I have invited them to
+accompany me to London where I hope to be in the course of a fortnight.
+Besides these two fair Damsels, I found a little humoured Brat here who
+I beleive is some relation to them, they told me who she was, and gave
+me a long rigmerole story of her father and a Miss _Somebody_ which I
+have entirely forgot. I hate scandal and detest Children. I have been
+plagued ever since I came here with tiresome visits from a parcel of
+Scotch wretches, with terrible hard-names; they were so civil, gave me
+so many invitations, and talked of coming again so soon, that I could
+not help affronting them. I suppose I shall not see them any more, and
+yet as a family party we are so stupid, that I do not know what to do
+with myself. These girls have no Music, but Scotch airs, no Drawings
+but Scotch Mountains, and no Books but Scotch Poems—and I hate
+everything Scotch. In general I can spend half the Day at my toilett
+with a great deal of pleasure, but why should I dress here, since there
+is not a creature in the House whom I have any wish to please. I have
+just had a conversation with my Brother in which he has greatly
+offended me, and which as I have nothing more entertaining to send you
+I will gave you the particulars of. You must know that I have for these
+4 or 5 Days past strongly suspected William of entertaining a
+partiality to my eldest Daughter. I own indeed that had _I_ been
+inclined to fall in love with any woman, I should not have made choice
+of Matilda Lesley for the object of my passion; for there is nothing I
+hate so much as a tall Woman: but however there is no accounting for
+some men’s taste and as William is himself nearly six feet high, it is
+not wonderful that he should be partial to that height. Now as I have a
+very great affection for my Brother and should be extremely sorry to
+see him unhappy, which I suppose he means to be if he cannot marry
+Matilda, as moreover I know that his circumstances will not allow him
+to marry any one without a fortune, and that Matilda’s is entirely
+dependant on her Father, who will neither have his own inclination nor
+my permission to give her anything at present, I thought it would be
+doing a good-natured action by my Brother to let him know as much, in
+order that he might choose for himself, whether to conquer his passion,
+or Love and Despair. Accordingly finding myself this Morning alone with
+him in one of the horrid old rooms of this Castle, I opened the cause
+to him in the following Manner.
+
+“Well my dear William what do you think of these girls? for my part, I
+do not find them so plain as I expected: but perhaps you may think me
+partial to the Daughters of my Husband and perhaps you are right—They
+are indeed so very like Sir George that it is natural to think”—
+
+“My Dear Susan (cried he in a tone of the greatest amazement) You do
+not really think they bear the least resemblance to their Father! He is
+so very plain!—but I beg your pardon—I had entirely forgotten to whom I
+was speaking—”
+
+“Oh! pray dont mind me; (replied I) every one knows Sir George is
+horribly ugly, and I assure you I always thought him a fright.”
+
+“You surprise me extremely (answered William) by what you say both with
+respect to Sir George and his Daughters. You cannot think your Husband
+so deficient in personal Charms as you speak of, nor can you surely see
+any resemblance between him and the Miss Lesleys who are in my opinion
+perfectly unlike him and perfectly Handsome.”
+
+“If that is your opinion with regard to the girls it certainly is no
+proof of their Fathers beauty, for if they are perfectly unlike him and
+very handsome at the same time, it is natural to suppose that he is
+very plain.”
+
+“By no means, (said he) for what may be pretty in a Woman, may be very
+unpleasing in a Man.”
+
+“But you yourself (replied I) but a few minutes ago allowed him to be
+very plain.”
+
+“Men are no Judges of Beauty in their own Sex.” (said he).
+
+“Neither Men nor Women can think Sir George tolerable.”
+
+“Well, well, (said he) we will not dispute about _his_ Beauty, but your
+opinion of his _Daughters_ is surely very singular, for if I understood
+you right, you said you did not find them so plain as you expected to
+do!”
+
+“Why, do _you_ find them plainer then?” (said I).
+
+“I can scarcely beleive you to be serious (returned he) when you speak
+of their persons in so extroidinary a Manner. Do not you think the Miss
+Lesleys are two very handsome young Women?”
+
+“Lord! No! (cried I) I think them terribly plain!”
+
+“Plain! (replied He) My dear Susan, you cannot really think so! Why
+what single Feature in the face of either of them, can you possibly
+find fault with?”
+
+“Oh! trust me for that; (replied I). Come I will begin with the
+eldest—with Matilda. Shall I, William?” (I looked as cunning as I could
+when I said it, in order to shame him).
+
+“They are so much alike (said he) that I should suppose the faults of
+one, would be the faults of both.”
+
+“Well, then, in the first place; they are both so horribly tall!”
+
+“They are _taller_ than you are indeed.” (said he with a saucy smile.)
+
+“Nay, (said I), I know nothing of that.”
+
+“Well, but (he continued) tho’ they may be above the common size, their
+figures are perfectly elegant; and as to their faces, their Eyes are
+beautifull.”
+
+“I never can think such tremendous, knock-me-down figures in the least
+degree elegant, and as for their eyes, they are so tall that I never
+could strain my neck enough to look at them.”
+
+“Nay, (replied he) I know not whether you may not be in the right in
+not attempting it, for perhaps they might dazzle you with their
+Lustre.”
+
+“Oh! Certainly. (said I, with the greatest complacency, for I assure
+you my dearest Charlotte I was not in the least offended tho’ by what
+followed, one would suppose that William was conscious of having given
+me just cause to be so, for coming up to me and taking my hand, he
+said) “You must not look so grave Susan; you will make me fear I have
+offended you!”
+
+“Offended me! Dear Brother, how came such a thought in your head!
+(returned I) No really! I assure you that I am not in the least
+surprised at your being so warm an advocate for the Beauty of these
+girls.”—
+
+“Well, but (interrupted William) remember that we have not yet
+concluded our dispute concerning them. What fault do you find with
+their complexion?”
+
+“They are so horridly pale.”
+
+“They have always a little colour, and after any exercise it is
+considerably heightened.”
+
+“Yes, but if there should ever happen to be any rain in this part of
+the world, they will never be able raise more than their common
+stock—except indeed they amuse themselves with running up and Down
+these horrid old galleries and Antichambers.”
+
+“Well, (replied my Brother in a tone of vexation, and glancing an
+impertinent look at me) if they _have_ but little colour, at least, it
+is all their own.”
+
+This was too much my dear Charlotte, for I am certain that he had the
+impudence by that look, of pretending to suspect the reality of mine.
+But you I am sure will vindicate my character whenever you may hear it
+so cruelly aspersed, for you can witness how often I have protested
+against wearing Rouge, and how much I always told you I disliked it.
+And I assure you that my opinions are still the same.—. Well, not
+bearing to be so suspected by my Brother, I left the room immediately,
+and have been ever since in my own Dressing-room writing to you. What a
+long letter have I made of it! But you must not expect to receive such
+from me when I get to Town; for it is only at Lesley castle, that one
+has time to write even to a Charlotte Lutterell.—. I was so much vexed
+by William’s glance, that I could not summon Patience enough, to stay
+and give him that advice respecting his attachment to Matilda which had
+first induced me from pure Love to him to begin the conversation; and I
+am now so thoroughly convinced by it, of his violent passion for her,
+that I am certain he would never hear reason on the subject, and I
+shall there fore give myself no more trouble either about him or his
+favourite. Adeiu my dear girl—
+
+Yrs affectionately Susan L.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the SEVENTH
+From Miss C. LUTTERELL to Miss M. LESLEY
+
+
+Bristol the 27th of March
+
+I have received Letters from you and your Mother-in-law within this
+week which have greatly entertained me, as I find by them that you are
+both downright jealous of each others Beauty. It is very odd that two
+pretty Women tho’ actually Mother and Daughter cannot be in the same
+House without falling out about their faces. Do be convinced that you
+are both perfectly handsome and say no more of the Matter. I suppose
+this letter must be directed to Portman Square where probably (great as
+is your affection for Lesley Castle) you will not be sorry to find
+yourself. In spite of all that people may say about Green fields and
+the Country I was always of opinion that London and its amusements must
+be very agreable for a while, and should be very happy could my
+Mother’s income allow her to jockey us into its Public-places, during
+Winter. I always longed particularly to go to Vaux-hall, to see whether
+the cold Beef there is cut so thin as it is reported, for I have a sly
+suspicion that few people understand the art of cutting a slice of cold
+Beef so well as I do: nay it would be hard if I did not know something
+of the Matter, for it was a part of my Education that I took by far the
+most pains with. Mama always found me _her_ best scholar, tho’ when
+Papa was alive Eloisa was _his_. Never to be sure were there two more
+different Dispositions in the World. We both loved Reading. _She_
+preferred Histories, and I Receipts. She loved drawing, Pictures, and I
+drawing Pullets. No one could sing a better song than she, and no one
+make a better Pye than I.—And so it has always continued since we have
+been no longer children. The only difference is that all disputes on
+the superior excellence of our Employments _then_ so frequent are now
+no more. We have for many years entered into an agreement always to
+admire each other’s works; I never fail listening to _her_ Music, and
+she is as constant in eating my pies. Such at least was the case till
+Henry Hervey made his appearance in Sussex. Before the arrival of his
+Aunt in our neighbourhood where she established herself you know about
+a twelvemonth ago, his visits to her had been at stated times, and of
+equal and settled Duration; but on her removal to the Hall which is
+within a walk from our House, they became both more frequent and
+longer. This as you may suppose could not be pleasing to Mrs Diana who
+is a professed enemy to everything which is not directed by Decorum and
+Formality, or which bears the least resemblance to Ease and
+Good-breeding. Nay so great was her aversion to her Nephews behaviour
+that I have often heard her give such hints of it before his face that
+had not Henry at such times been engaged in conversation with Eloisa,
+they must have caught his Attention and have very much distressed him.
+The alteration in my Sisters behaviour which I have before hinted at,
+now took place. The Agreement we had entered into of admiring each
+others productions she no longer seemed to regard, and tho’ I
+constantly applauded even every Country-dance, she played, yet not even
+a pidgeon-pye of my making could obtain from her a single word of
+approbation. This was certainly enough to put any one in a Passion;
+however, I was as cool as a cream-cheese and having formed my plan and
+concerted a scheme of Revenge, I was determined to let her have her own
+way and not even to make her a single reproach. My scheme was to treat
+her as she treated me, and tho’ she might even draw my own Picture or
+play Malbrook (which is the only tune I ever really liked) not to say
+so much as “Thank you Eloisa;” tho’ I had for many years constantly
+hollowed whenever she played, _Bravo_, _Bravissimo_, _her_, _Da capo_,
+_allegretto con expressione_, and _Poco presto_ with many other such
+outlandish words, all of them as Eloisa told me expressive of my
+Admiration; and so indeed I suppose they are, as I see some of them in
+every Page of every Music book, being the sentiments I imagine of the
+composer.
+
+I executed my Plan with great Punctuality. I can not say success, for
+alas! my silence while she played seemed not in the least to displease
+her; on the contrary she actually said to me one day “Well Charlotte, I
+am very glad to find that you have at last left off that ridiculous
+custom of applauding my Execution on the Harpsichord till you made _my_
+head ake, and yourself hoarse. I feel very much obliged to you for
+keeping your admiration to yourself.” I never shall forget the very
+witty answer I made to this speech. “Eloisa (said I) I beg you would be
+quite at your Ease with respect to all such fears in future, for be
+assured that I shall always keep my admiration to myself and my own
+pursuits and never extend it to yours.” This was the only very severe
+thing I ever said in my Life; not but that I have often felt myself
+extremely satirical but it was the only time I ever made my feelings
+public.
+
+I suppose there never were two Young people who had a greater affection
+for each other than Henry and Eloisa; no, the Love of your Brother for
+Miss Burton could not be so strong tho’ it might be more violent. You
+may imagine therefore how provoked my Sister must have been to have him
+play her such a trick. Poor girl! she still laments his Death with
+undiminished constancy, notwithstanding he has been dead more than six
+weeks; but some People mind such things more than others. The ill state
+of Health into which his loss has thrown her makes her so weak, and so
+unable to support the least exertion, that she has been in tears all
+this Morning merely from having taken leave of Mrs. Marlowe who with
+her Husband, Brother and Child are to leave Bristol this morning. I am
+sorry to have them go because they are the only family with whom we
+have here any acquaintance, but I never thought of crying; to be sure
+Eloisa and Mrs Marlowe have always been more together than with me, and
+have therefore contracted a kind of affection for each other, which
+does not make Tears so inexcusable in them as they would be in me. The
+Marlowes are going to Town; Cliveland accompanies them; as neither
+Eloisa nor I could catch him I hope you or Matilda may have better
+Luck. I know not when we shall leave Bristol, Eloisa’s spirits are so
+low that she is very averse to moving, and yet is certainly by no means
+mended by her residence here. A week or two will I hope determine our
+Measures—in the mean time believe me
+
+and etc—and etc—Charlotte Lutterell.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the EIGHTH
+Miss LUTTERELL to Mrs MARLOWE
+
+
+Bristol April 4th
+
+I feel myself greatly obliged to you my dear Emma for such a mark of
+your affection as I flatter myself was conveyed in the proposal you
+made me of our Corresponding; I assure you that it will be a great
+releif to me to write to you and as long as my Health and Spirits will
+allow me, you will find me a very constant correspondent; I will not
+say an entertaining one, for you know my situation suffciently not to
+be ignorant that in me Mirth would be improper and I know my own Heart
+too well not to be sensible that it would be unnatural. You must not
+expect news for we see no one with whom we are in the least acquainted,
+or in whose proceedings we have any Interest. You must not expect
+scandal for by the same rule we are equally debarred either from
+hearing or inventing it.—You must expect from me nothing but the
+melancholy effusions of a broken Heart which is ever reverting to the
+Happiness it once enjoyed and which ill supports its present
+wretchedness. The Possibility of being able to write, to speak, to you
+of my lost Henry will be a luxury to me, and your goodness will not I
+know refuse to read what it will so much releive my Heart to write. I
+once thought that to have what is in general called a Freind (I mean
+one of my own sex to whom I might speak with less reserve than to any
+other person) independant of my sister would never be an object of my
+wishes, but how much was I mistaken! Charlotte is too much engrossed by
+two confidential correspondents of that sort, to supply the place of
+one to me, and I hope you will not think me girlishly romantic, when I
+say that to have some kind and compassionate Freind who might listen to
+my sorrows without endeavouring to console me was what I had for some
+time wished for, when our acquaintance with you, the intimacy which
+followed it and the particular affectionate attention you paid me
+almost from the first, caused me to entertain the flattering Idea of
+those attentions being improved on a closer acquaintance into a
+Freindship which, if you were what my wishes formed you would be the
+greatest Happiness I could be capable of enjoying. To find that such
+Hopes are realised is a satisfaction indeed, a satisfaction which is
+now almost the only one I can ever experience.—I feel myself so languid
+that I am sure were you with me you would oblige me to leave off
+writing, and I cannot give you a greater proof of my affection for you
+than by acting, as I know you would wish me to do, whether Absent or
+Present. I am my dear Emmas sincere freind
+
+E. L.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the NINTH
+Mrs MARLOWE to Miss LUTTERELL
+
+
+Grosvenor Street, April 10th
+
+Need I say my dear Eloisa how wellcome your letter was to me I cannot
+give a greater proof of the pleasure I received from it, or of the
+Desire I feel that our Correspondence may be regular and frequent than
+by setting you so good an example as I now do in answering it before
+the end of the week—. But do not imagine that I claim any merit in
+being so punctual; on the contrary I assure you, that it is a far
+greater Gratification to me to write to you, than to spend the Evening
+either at a Concert or a Ball. Mr Marlowe is so desirous of my
+appearing at some of the Public places every evening that I do not like
+to refuse him, but at the same time so much wish to remain at Home,
+that independant of the Pleasure I experience in devoting any portion
+of my Time to my Dear Eloisa, yet the Liberty I claim from having a
+letter to write of spending an Evening at home with my little Boy, you
+know me well enough to be sensible, will of itself be a sufficient
+Inducement (if one is necessary) to my maintaining with Pleasure a
+Correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters to me,
+whether grave or merry, if they concern you they must be equally
+interesting to me; not but that I think the melancholy Indulgence of
+your own sorrows by repeating them and dwelling on them to me, will
+only encourage and increase them, and that it will be more prudent in
+you to avoid so sad a subject; but yet knowing as I do what a soothing
+and melancholy Pleasure it must afford you, I cannot prevail on myself
+to deny you so great an Indulgence, and will only insist on your not
+expecting me to encourage you in it, by my own letters; on the contrary
+I intend to fill them with such lively Wit and enlivening Humour as
+shall even provoke a smile in the sweet but sorrowfull countenance of
+my Eloisa.
+
+In the first place you are to learn that I have met your sisters three
+freinds Lady Lesley and her Daughters, twice in Public since I have
+been here. I know you will be impatient to hear my opinion of the
+Beauty of three Ladies of whom you have heard so much. Now, as you are
+too ill and too unhappy to be vain, I think I may venture to inform you
+that I like none of their faces so well as I do your own. Yet they are
+all handsome—Lady Lesley indeed I have seen before; her Daughters I
+beleive would in general be said to have a finer face than her
+Ladyship, and yet what with the charms of a Blooming complexion, a
+little Affectation and a great deal of small-talk, (in each of which
+she is superior to the young Ladies) she will I dare say gain herself
+as many admirers as the more regular features of Matilda, and Margaret.
+I am sure you will agree with me in saying that they can none of them
+be of a proper size for real Beauty, when you know that two of them are
+taller and the other shorter than ourselves. In spite of this Defect
+(or rather by reason of it) there is something very noble and majestic
+in the figures of the Miss Lesleys, and something agreably lively in
+the appearance of their pretty little Mother-in-law. But tho’ one may
+be majestic and the other lively, yet the faces of neither possess that
+Bewitching sweetness of my Eloisas, which her present languor is so far
+from diminushing. What would my Husband and Brother say of us, if they
+knew all the fine things I have been saying to you in this letter. It
+is very hard that a pretty woman is never to be told she is so by any
+one of her own sex without that person’s being suspected to be either
+her determined Enemy, or her professed Toad-eater. How much more
+amiable are women in that particular! One man may say forty civil
+things to another without our supposing that he is ever paid for it,
+and provided he does his Duty by our sex, we care not how Polite he is
+to his own.
+
+Mrs Lutterell will be so good as to accept my compliments, Charlotte,
+my Love, and Eloisa the best wishes for the recovery of her Health and
+Spirits that can be offered by her affectionate Freind
+
+E. Marlowe.
+
+
+I am afraid this letter will be but a poor specimen of my Powers in the
+witty way; and your opinion of them will not be greatly increased when
+I assure you that I have been as entertaining as I possibly could.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the TENTH
+From Miss MARGARET LESLEY to Miss CHARLOTTE LUTTERELL
+
+
+Portman Square April 13th
+
+MY DEAR CHARLOTTE
+
+We left Lesley-Castle on the 28th of last Month, and arrived safely in
+London after a Journey of seven Days; I had the pleasure of finding
+your Letter here waiting my Arrival, for which you have my grateful
+Thanks. Ah! my dear Freind I every day more regret the serene and
+tranquil Pleasures of the Castle we have left, in exchange for the
+uncertain and unequal Amusements of this vaunted City. Not that I will
+pretend to assert that these uncertain and unequal Amusements are in
+the least Degree unpleasing to me; on the contrary I enjoy them
+extremely and should enjoy them even more, were I not certain that
+every appearance I make in Public but rivetts the Chains of those
+unhappy Beings whose Passion it is impossible not to pity, tho’ it is
+out of my power to return. In short my Dear Charlotte it is my
+sensibility for the sufferings of so many amiable young Men, my Dislike
+of the extreme admiration I meet with, and my aversion to being so
+celebrated both in Public, in Private, in Papers, and in Printshops,
+that are the reasons why I cannot more fully enjoy, the Amusements so
+various and pleasing of London. How often have I wished that I
+possessed as little Personal Beauty as you do; that my figure were as
+inelegant; my face as unlovely; and my appearance as unpleasing as
+yours! But ah! what little chance is there of so desirable an Event; I
+have had the small-pox, and must therefore submit to my unhappy fate.
+
+I am now going to intrust you my dear Charlotte with a secret which has
+long disturbed the tranquility of my days, and which is of a kind to
+require the most inviolable Secrecy from you. Last Monday se’night
+Matilda and I accompanied Lady Lesley to a Rout at the Honourable Mrs
+Kickabout’s; we were escorted by Mr Fitzgerald who is a very amiable
+young Man in the main, tho’ perhaps a little singular in his Taste—He
+is in love with Matilda—. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the
+Lady of the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when
+my Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most
+lovely of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with another
+Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him, I was certain
+that on him depended the future Happiness of my Life. Imagine my
+surprise when he was introduced to me by the name of Cleveland—I
+instantly recognised him as the Brother of Mrs Marlowe, and the
+acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr and Mrs M. were the
+gentleman and Lady who accompanied him. (You do not think Mrs Marlowe
+handsome?) The elegant address of Mr Cleveland, his polished Manners
+and Delightful Bow, at once confirmed my attachment. He did not speak;
+but I can imagine everything he would have said, had he opened his
+Mouth. I can picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the Noble
+sentiments, and elegant Language which would have shone so conspicuous
+in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The approach of Sir James Gower
+(one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the Discovery of any such
+Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation we had never commenced, and
+by attracting my attention to himself. But oh! how inferior are the
+accomplishments of Sir James to those of his so greatly envied Rival!
+Sir James is one of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost
+always of our Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but
+no Cleveland—he is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe fatigues
+me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome Conversations about
+you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in the hope of seeing her
+irrisistable Brother to night, as we are going to Lady Flambeaus, who
+is I know intimate with the Marlowes. Our party will be Lady Lesley,
+Matilda, Fitzgerald, Sir James Gower, and myself. We see little of Sir
+George, who is almost always at the gaming-table. Ah! my poor Fortune
+where art thou by this time? We see more of Lady L. who always makes
+her appearance (highly rouged) at Dinner-time. Alas! what Delightful
+Jewels will she be decked in this evening at Lady Flambeau’s! Yet I
+wonder how she can herself delight in wearing them; surely she must be
+sensible of the ridiculous impropriety of loading her little diminutive
+figure with such superfluous ornaments; is it possible that she can not
+know how greatly superior an elegant simplicity is to the most studied
+apparel? Would she but Present them to Matilda and me, how greatly
+should we be obliged to her, How becoming would Diamonds be on our fine
+majestic figures! And how surprising it is that such an Idea should
+never have occurred to _her_. I am sure if I have reflected in this
+manner once, I have fifty times. Whenever I see Lady Lesley dressed in
+them such reflections immediately come across me. My own Mother’s
+Jewels too! But I will say no more on so melancholy a subject—let me
+entertain you with something more pleasing—Matilda had a letter this
+morning from Lesley, by which we have the pleasure of finding that he
+is at Naples has turned Roman-Catholic, obtained one of the Pope’s
+Bulls for annulling his 1st Marriage and has since actually married a
+Neapolitan Lady of great Rank and Fortune. He tells us moreover that
+much the same sort of affair has befallen his first wife the worthless
+Louisa who is likewise at Naples had turned Roman-catholic, and is soon
+to be married to a Neapolitan Nobleman of great and Distinguished
+merit. He says, that they are at present very good Freinds, have quite
+forgiven all past errors and intend in future to be very good
+Neighbours. He invites Matilda and me to pay him a visit to Italy and
+to bring him his little Louisa whom both her Mother, Step-mother, and
+himself are equally desirous of beholding. As to our accepting his
+invitation, it is at Present very uncertain; Lady Lesley advises us to
+go without loss of time; Fitzgerald offers to escort us there, but
+Matilda has some doubts of the Propriety of such a scheme—she owns it
+would be very agreable. I am certain she likes the Fellow. My Father
+desires us not to be in a hurry, as perhaps if we wait a few months
+both he and Lady Lesley will do themselves the pleasure of attending
+us. Lady Lesley says no, that nothing will ever tempt her to forego the
+Amusements of Brighthelmstone for a Journey to Italy merely to see our
+Brother. “No (says the disagreable Woman) I have once in my life been
+fool enough to travel I dont know how many hundred Miles to see two of
+the Family, and I found it did not answer, so Deuce take me, if ever I
+am so foolish again.” So says her Ladyship, but Sir George still
+Perseveres in saying that perhaps in a month or two, they may accompany
+us.
+
+Adeiu my Dear Charlotte
+Yrs faithful Margaret Lesley.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND
+
+FROM
+THE REIGN OF HENRY THE 4TH
+TO
+THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE 1ST
+
+BY A PARTIAL, PREJUDICED, AND IGNORANT HISTORIAN.
+
+
+
+
+To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this work is
+inscribed with all due respect by
+
+THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND
+
+
+HENRY the 4th
+
+
+Henry the 4th ascended the throne of England much to his own
+satisfaction in the year 1399, after having prevailed on his cousin and
+predecessor Richard the 2nd, to resign it to him, and to retire for the
+rest of his life to Pomfret Castle, where he happened to be murdered.
+It is to be supposed that Henry was married, since he had certainly
+four sons, but it is not in my power to inform the Reader who was his
+wife. Be this as it may, he did not live for ever, but falling ill, his
+son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown; whereupon the
+King made a long speech, for which I must refer the Reader to
+Shakespear’s Plays, and the Prince made a still longer. Things being
+thus settled between them the King died, and was succeeded by his son
+Henry who had previously beat Sir William Gascoigne.
+
+HENRY the 5th
+
+
+This Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and
+amiable, forsaking all his dissipated companions, and never thrashing
+Sir William again. During his reign, Lord Cobham was burnt alive, but I
+forget what for. His Majesty then turned his thoughts to France, where
+he went and fought the famous Battle of Agincourt. He afterwards
+married the King’s daughter Catherine, a very agreable woman by
+Shakespear’s account. In spite of all this however he died, and was
+succeeded by his son Henry.
+
+HENRY the 6th
+
+
+I cannot say much for this Monarch’s sense. Nor would I if I could, for
+he was a Lancastrian. I suppose you know all about the Wars between him
+and the Duke of York who was of the right side; if you do not, you had
+better read some other History, for I shall not be very diffuse in
+this, meaning by it only to vent my spleen _against_, and shew my
+Hatred _to_ all those people whose parties or principles do not suit
+with mine, and not to give information. This King married Margaret of
+Anjou, a Woman whose distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost
+to make me who hate her, pity her. It was in this reign that Joan of
+Arc lived and made such a _row_ among the English. They should not have
+burnt her—but they did. There were several Battles between the Yorkists
+and Lancastrians, in which the former (as they ought) usually
+conquered. At length they were entirely overcome; The King was
+murdered—The Queen was sent home—and Edward the 4th ascended the
+Throne.
+
+EDWARD the 4th
+
+
+This Monarch was famous only for his Beauty and his Courage, of which
+the Picture we have here given of him, and his undaunted Behaviour in
+marrying one Woman while he was engaged to another, are sufficient
+proofs. His Wife was Elizabeth Woodville, a Widow who, poor Woman! was
+afterwards confined in a Convent by that Monster of Iniquity and
+Avarice Henry the 7th. One of Edward’s Mistresses was Jane Shore, who
+has had a play written about her, but it is a tragedy and therefore not
+worth reading. Having performed all these noble actions, his Majesty
+died, and was succeeded by his son.
+
+EDWARD the 5th
+
+
+This unfortunate Prince lived so little a while that nobody had him to
+draw his picture. He was murdered by his Uncle’s Contrivance, whose
+name was Richard the 3rd.
+
+RICHARD the 3rd
+
+
+The Character of this Prince has been in general very severely treated
+by Historians, but as he was a _York_, I am rather inclined to suppose
+him a very respectable Man. It has indeed been confidently asserted
+that he killed his two Nephews and his Wife, but it has also been
+declared that he did _not_ kill his two Nephews, which I am inclined to
+beleive true; and if this is the case, it may also be affirmed that he
+did not kill his Wife, for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of
+York, why might not Lambert Simnel be the Widow of Richard. Whether
+innocent or guilty, he did not reign long in peace, for Henry Tudor E.
+of Richmond as great a villain as ever lived, made a great fuss about
+getting the Crown and having killed the King at the battle of Bosworth,
+he succeeded to it.
+
+HENRY the 7th
+
+
+This Monarch soon after his accession married the Princess Elizabeth of
+York, by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right
+inferior to hers, tho’ he pretended to the contrary. By this Marriage
+he had two sons and two daughters, the elder of which Daughters was
+married to the King of Scotland and had the happiness of being
+grandmother to one of the first Characters in the World. But of _her_,
+I shall have occasion to speak more at large in future. The youngest,
+Mary, married first the King of France and secondly the D. of Suffolk,
+by whom she had one daughter, afterwards the Mother of Lady Jane Grey,
+who tho’ inferior to her lovely Cousin the Queen of Scots, was yet an
+amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other people
+were hunting. It was in the reign of Henry the 7th that Perkin Warbeck
+and Lambert Simnel before mentioned made their appearance, the former
+of whom was set in the stocks, took shelter in Beaulieu Abbey, and was
+beheaded with the Earl of Warwick, and the latter was taken into the
+Kings kitchen. His Majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry
+whose only merit was his not being _quite_ so bad as his daughter
+Elizabeth.
+
+HENRY the 8th
+
+
+It would be an affront to my Readers were I to suppose that they were
+not as well acquainted with the particulars of this King’s reign as I
+am myself. It will therefore be saving _them_ the task of reading again
+what they have read before, and _myself_ the trouble of writing what I
+do not perfectly recollect, by giving only a slight sketch of the
+principal Events which marked his reign. Among these may be ranked
+Cardinal Wolsey’s telling the father Abbott of Leicester Abbey that “he
+was come to lay his bones among them,” the reformation in Religion and
+the King’s riding through the streets of London with Anna Bullen. It is
+however but Justice, and my Duty to declare that this amiable Woman was
+entirely innocent of the Crimes with which she was accused, and of
+which her Beauty, her Elegance, and her Sprightliness were sufficient
+proofs, not to mention her solemn Protestations of Innocence, the
+weakness of the Charges against her, and the King’s Character; all of
+which add some confirmation, tho’ perhaps but slight ones when in
+comparison with those before alledged in her favour. Tho’ I do not
+profess giving many dates, yet as I think it proper to give some and
+shall of course make choice of those which it is most necessary for the
+Reader to know, I think it right to inform him that her letter to the
+King was dated on the 6th of May. The Crimes and Cruelties of this
+Prince, were too numerous to be mentioned, (as this history I trust has
+fully shown;) and nothing can be said in his vindication, but that his
+abolishing Religious Houses and leaving them to the ruinous
+depredations of time has been of infinite use to the landscape of
+England in general, which probably was a principal motive for his doing
+it, since otherwise why should a Man who was of no Religion himself be
+at so much trouble to abolish one which had for ages been established
+in the Kingdom. His Majesty’s 5th Wife was the Duke of Norfolk’s Neice
+who, tho’ universally acquitted of the crimes for which she was
+beheaded, has been by many people supposed to have led an abandoned
+life before her Marriage—of this however I have many doubts, since she
+was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the
+Queen of Scotland’s cause, and who at last fell a victim to it. The
+Kings last wife contrived to survive him, but with difficulty effected
+it. He was succeeded by his only son Edward.
+
+EDWARD the 6th
+
+
+As this prince was only nine years old at the time of his Father’s
+death, he was considered by many people as too young to govern, and the
+late King happening to be of the same opinion, his mother’s Brother the
+Duke of Somerset was chosen Protector of the realm during his minority.
+This Man was on the whole of a very amiable Character, and is somewhat
+of a favourite with me, tho’ I would by no means pretend to affirm that
+he was equal to those first of Men Robert Earl of Essex, Delamere, or
+Gilpin. He was beheaded, of which he might with reason have been proud,
+had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland; but as
+it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never
+happened, it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with
+the manner of it. After his decease the Duke of Northumberland had the
+care of the King and the Kingdom, and performed his trust of both so
+well that the King died and the Kingdom was left to his daughter in law
+the Lady Jane Grey, who has been already mentioned as reading Greek.
+Whether she really understood that language or whether such a study
+proceeded only from an excess of vanity for which I beleive she was
+always rather remarkable, is uncertain. Whatever might be the cause,
+she preserved the same appearance of knowledge, and contempt of what
+was generally esteemed pleasure, during the whole of her life, for she
+declared herself displeased with being appointed Queen, and while
+conducting to the scaffold, she wrote a sentence in Latin and another
+in Greek on seeing the dead Body of her Husband accidentally passing
+that way.
+
+MARY
+
+
+This woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of
+England, in spite of the superior pretensions, Merit, and Beauty of her
+Cousins Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey. Nor can I pity the
+Kingdom for the misfortunes they experienced during her Reign, since
+they fully deserved them, for having allowed her to succeed her
+Brother—which was a double peice of folly, since they might have
+foreseen that as she died without children, she would be succeeded by
+that disgrace to humanity, that pest of society, Elizabeth. Many were
+the people who fell martyrs to the protestant Religion during her
+reign; I suppose not fewer than a dozen. She married Philip King of
+Spain who in her sister’s reign was famous for building Armadas. She
+died without issue, and then the dreadful moment came in which the
+destroyer of all comfort, the deceitful Betrayer of trust reposed in
+her, and the Murderess of her Cousin succeeded to the Throne.——
+
+ELIZABETH
+
+
+It was the peculiar misfortune of this Woman to have bad
+Ministers—Since wicked as she herself was, she could not have committed
+such extensive mischeif, had not these vile and abandoned Men connived
+at, and encouraged her in her Crimes. I know that it has by many people
+been asserted and beleived that Lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham,
+and the rest of those who filled the cheif offices of State were
+deserving, experienced, and able Ministers. But oh! how blinded such
+writers and such Readers must be to true Merit, to Merit despised,
+neglected and defamed, if they can persist in such opinions when they
+reflect that these men, these boasted men were such scandals to their
+Country and their sex as to allow and assist their Queen in confining
+for the space of nineteen years, a _Woman_ who if the claims of
+Relationship and Merit were of no avail, yet as a Queen and as one who
+condescended to place confidence in her, had every reason to expect
+assistance and protection; and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring
+this amiable Woman to an untimely, unmerited, and scandalous Death. Can
+any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot, this everlasting
+blot upon their understanding and their Character, allow any praise to
+Lord Burleigh or Sir Francis Walsingham? Oh! what must this bewitching
+Princess whose only freind was then the Duke of Norfolk, and whose only
+ones now Mr Whitaker, Mrs Lefroy, Mrs Knight and myself, who was
+abandoned by her son, confined by her Cousin, abused, reproached and
+vilified by all, what must not her most noble mind have suffered when
+informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her Death! Yet she bore it
+with a most unshaken fortitude, firm in her mind; constant in her
+Religion; and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she was
+doomed, with a magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious
+Innocence. And yet could you Reader have beleived it possible that some
+hardened and zealous Protestants have even abused her for that
+steadfastness in the Catholic Religion which reflected on her so much
+credit? But this is a striking proof of _their_ narrow souls and
+prejudiced Judgements who accuse her. She was executed in the Great
+Hall at Fortheringay Castle (sacred Place!) on Wednesday the 8th of
+February 1586—to the everlasting Reproach of Elizabeth, her Ministers,
+and of England in general. It may not be unnecessary before I entirely
+conclude my account of this ill-fated Queen, to observe that she had
+been accused of several crimes during the time of her reigning in
+Scotland, of which I now most seriously do assure my Reader that she
+was entirely innocent; having never been guilty of anything more than
+Imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her Heart,
+her Youth, and her Education. Having I trust by this assurance entirely
+done away every Suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in
+the Reader’s mind, from what other Historians have written of her, I
+shall proceed to mention the remaining Events that marked Elizabeth’s
+reign. It was about this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English
+Navigator who sailed round the World, lived, to be the ornament of his
+Country and his profession. Yet great as he was, and justly celebrated
+as a sailor, I cannot help foreseeing that he will be equalled in this
+or the next Century by one who tho’ now but young, already promises to
+answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of his Relations and
+Freinds, amongst whom I may class the amiable Lady to whom this work is
+dedicated, and my no less amiable self.
+
+Though of a different profession, and shining in a different sphere of
+Life, yet equally conspicuous in the Character of an _Earl_, as Drake
+was in that of a _Sailor_, was Robert Devereux Lord Essex. This
+unfortunate young Man was not unlike in character to that equally
+unfortunate one _Frederic Delamere_. The simile may be carried still
+farther, and Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to the
+Emmeline of Delamere. It would be endless to recount the misfortunes of
+this noble and gallant Earl. It is sufficient to say that he was
+beheaded on the 25th of Feb, after having been Lord Lieutenant of
+Ireland, after having clapped his hand on his sword, and after
+performing many other services to his Country. Elizabeth did not long
+survive his loss, and died so miserable that were it not an injury to
+the memory of Mary I should pity her.
+
+JAMES the 1st
+
+
+Though this King had some faults, among which and as the most
+principal, was his allowing his Mother’s death, yet considered on the
+whole I cannot help liking him. He married Anne of Denmark, and had
+several Children; fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died
+before his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell
+his unfortunate Brother.
+
+As I am myself partial to the roman catholic religion, it is with
+infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the Behaviour of any Member
+of it: yet Truth being I think very excusable in an Historian, I am
+necessitated to say that in this reign the roman Catholics of England
+did not behave like Gentlemen to the protestants. Their Behaviour
+indeed to the Royal Family and both Houses of Parliament might justly
+be considered by them as very uncivil, and even Sir Henry Percy tho’
+certainly the best bred man of the party, had none of that general
+politeness which is so universally pleasing, as his attentions were
+entirely confined to Lord Mounteagle.
+
+Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceeding reign, and is
+by many people held in great veneration and respect—But as he was an
+enemy of the noble Essex, I have nothing to say in praise of him, and
+must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars
+of his life, to Mr Sheridan’s play of the Critic, where they will find
+many interesting anecdotes as well of him as of his friend Sir
+Christopher Hatton.—His Majesty was of that amiable disposition which
+inclines to Freindship, and in such points was possessed of a keener
+penetration in discovering Merit than many other people. I once heard
+an excellent Sharade on a Carpet, of which the subject I am now on
+reminds me, and as I think it may afford my Readers some amusement to
+_find it out_, I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them.
+
+SHARADE
+
+
+My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you tread on
+my whole.
+
+The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was afterwards
+created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in
+the above mentioned Sharade, and George Villiers afterwards Duke of
+Buckingham. On his Majesty’s death he was succeeded by his son Charles.
+
+CHARLES the 1st
+
+
+This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to
+those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he could not deserve
+since he was her descendant. Never certainly were there before so many
+detestable Characters at one time in England as in this Period of its
+History; never were amiable men so scarce. The number of them
+throughout the whole Kingdom amounting only to _five_, besides the
+inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their King and faithful
+to his interests. The names of this noble five who never forgot the
+duty of the subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty,
+were as follows—The King himself, ever stedfast in his own
+support—Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke
+of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the cause.
+While the _villains_ of the time would make too long a list to be
+written or read; I shall therefore content myself with mentioning the
+leaders of the Gang. Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden, and Pym may be
+considered as the original Causers of all the disturbances, Distresses,
+and Civil Wars in which England for many years was embroiled. In this
+reign as well as in that of Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my
+attachment to the Scotch, to consider them as equally guilty with the
+generality of the English, since they dared to think differently from
+their Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as _Stuarts_ it was
+their Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the
+unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less
+unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch’s reign are too
+numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except what
+I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my principal reason for
+undertaking the History of England being to Prove the innocence of the
+Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with having effectually done,
+and to abuse Elizabeth, tho’ I am rather fearful of having fallen short
+in the latter part of my scheme.—As therefore it is not my intention to
+give any particular account of the distresses into which this King was
+involved through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall
+satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of Arbitrary and
+tyrannical Government with which he has often been charged. This, I
+feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one argument I am certain
+of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions
+have been properly guided by a good Education—and this Argument is that
+he was a STUART.
+
+FINIS
+
+
+Saturday Nov: 26th 1791.
+
+
+
+
+A COLLECTION OF LETTERS
+
+
+
+
+To Miss COOPER
+
+
+COUSIN
+
+Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every
+Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I
+Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious
+Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by
+your Comical Cousin
+
+The Author
+
+
+
+
+A COLLECTION OF LETTERS
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FIRST
+From a MOTHER to her FREIND.
+
+
+My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different Manner
+from that in which they have been used to receive it, as they are now
+arrived at that age when it is necessary for them in some measure to
+become conversant with the World, My Augusta is 17 and her sister
+scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter myself that their education
+has been such as will not disgrace their appearance in the World, and
+that _they_ will not disgrace their Education I have every reason to
+beleive. Indeed they are sweet Girls—. Sensible yet
+unaffected—Accomplished yet Easy—. Lively yet Gentle—. As their
+progress in every thing they have learnt has been always the same, I am
+willing to forget the difference of age, and to introduce them together
+into Public. This very Evening is fixed on as their first _entrée_ into
+Life, as we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad
+that we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be awkward
+for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very first day. But we shall
+proceed by degrees.—Tomorrow Mr Stanly’s family will drink tea with us,
+and perhaps the Miss Phillips’s will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay
+Morning Visits—On Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we
+have Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at
+Sir John Wynna’s—and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call in the
+Morning—which will complete my Daughters Introduction into Life. How
+they will bear so much dissipation I cannot imagine; of their spirits I
+have no fear, I only dread their health.
+
+
+This mighty affair is now happily over, and my Girls _are out_. As the
+moment approached for our departure, you can have no idea how the sweet
+Creatures trembled with fear and expectation. Before the Carriage drove
+to the door, I called them into my dressing-room, and as soon as they
+were seated thus addressed them. “My dear Girls the moment is now
+arrived when I am to reap the rewards of all my Anxieties and Labours
+towards you during your Education. You are this Evening to enter a
+World in which you will meet with many wonderfull Things; Yet let me
+warn you against suffering yourselves to be meanly swayed by the
+Follies and Vices of others, for beleive me my beloved Children that if
+you do—I shall be very sorry for it.” They both assured me that they
+would ever remember my advice with Gratitude, and follow it with
+attention; That they were prepared to find a World full of things to
+amaze and to shock them: but that they trusted their behaviour would
+never give me reason to repent the Watchful Care with which I had
+presided over their infancy and formed their Minds—” “With such
+expectations and such intentions (cried I) I can have nothing to fear
+from you—and can chearfully conduct you to Mrs Cope’s without a fear of
+your being seduced by her Example, or contaminated by her Follies.
+Come, then my Children (added I) the Carriage is driving to the door,
+and I will not a moment delay the happiness you are so impatient to
+enjoy.” When we arrived at Warleigh, poor Augusta could scarcely
+breathe, while Margaret was all Life and Rapture. “The long-expected
+Moment is now arrived (said she) and we shall soon be in the World.”—In
+a few Moments we were in Mrs Cope’s parlour, where with her daughter
+she sate ready to receive us. I observed with delight the impression my
+Children made on them—. They were indeed two sweet, elegant-looking
+Girls, and tho’ somewhat abashed from the peculiarity of their
+situation, yet there was an ease in their Manners and address which
+could not fail of pleasing—. Imagine my dear Madam how delighted I must
+have been in beholding as I did, how attentively they observed every
+object they saw, how disgusted with some Things, how enchanted with
+others, how astonished at all! On the whole however they returned in
+raptures with the World, its Inhabitants, and Manners.
+
+Yrs Ever—A. F.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the SECOND
+From a YOUNG LADY crossed in Love to her freind
+
+
+Why should this last disappointment hang so heavily on my spirits? Why
+should I feel it more, why should it wound me deeper than those I have
+experienced before? Can it be that I have a greater affection for
+Willoughby than I had for his amiable predecessors? Or is it that our
+feelings become more acute from being often wounded? I must suppose my
+dear Belle that this is the Case, since I am not conscious of being
+more sincerely attached to Willoughby than I was to Neville, Fitzowen,
+or either of the Crawfords, for all of whom I once felt the most
+lasting affection that ever warmed a Woman’s heart. Tell me then dear
+Belle why I still sigh when I think of the faithless Edward, or why I
+weep when I behold his Bride, for too surely this is the case—. My
+Freinds are all alarmed for me; They fear my declining health; they
+lament my want of spirits; they dread the effects of both. In hopes of
+releiving my melancholy, by directing my thoughts to other objects,
+they have invited several of their freinds to spend the Christmas with
+us. Lady Bridget Darkwood and her sister-in-law, Miss Jane are expected
+on Friday; and Colonel Seaton’s family will be with us next week. This
+is all most kindly meant by my Uncle and Cousins; but what can the
+presence of a dozen indefferent people do to me, but weary and distress
+me—. I will not finish my Letter till some of our Visitors are arrived.
+
+
+Friday Evening Lady Bridget came this morning, and with her, her sweet
+sister Miss Jane—. Although I have been acquainted with this charming
+Woman above fifteen Years, yet I never before observed how lovely she
+is. She is now about 35, and in spite of sickness, sorrow and Time is
+more blooming than I ever saw a Girl of 17. I was delighted with her,
+the moment she entered the house, and she appeared equally pleased with
+me, attaching herself to me during the remainder of the day. There is
+something so sweet, so mild in her Countenance, that she seems more
+than Mortal. Her Conversation is as bewitching as her appearance; I
+could not help telling her how much she engaged my admiration—. “Oh!
+Miss Jane (said I)—and stopped from an inability at the moment of
+expressing myself as I could wish—Oh! Miss Jane—(I repeated)—I could
+not think of words to suit my feelings—She seemed waiting for my
+speech—. I was confused—distressed—my thoughts were bewildered—and I
+could only add—“How do you do?” She saw and felt for my Embarrassment
+and with admirable presence of mind releived me from it by saying—“My
+dear Sophia be not uneasy at having exposed yourself—I will turn the
+Conversation without appearing to notice it. “Oh! how I loved her for
+her kindness!” Do you ride as much as you used to do?” said she—. “I am
+advised to ride by my Physician. We have delightful Rides round us, I
+have a Charming horse, am uncommonly fond of the Amusement, replied I
+quite recovered from my Confusion, and in short I ride a great deal.”
+“You are in the right my Love,” said she. Then repeating the following
+line which was an extempore and equally adapted to recommend both
+Riding and Candour—
+
+“Ride where you may, Be Candid where you can,” she added,” _I_ rode
+once, but it is many years ago—She spoke this in so low and tremulous a
+Voice, that I was silent—. Struck with her Manner of speaking I could
+make no reply. “I have not ridden, continued she fixing her Eyes on my
+face, since I was married.” I was never so surprised—“Married, Ma’am!”
+I repeated. “You may well wear that look of astonishment, said she,
+since what I have said must appear improbable to you—Yet nothing is
+more true than that I once was married.”
+
+“Then why are you called Miss Jane?”
+
+“I married, my Sophia without the consent or knowledge of my father the
+late Admiral Annesley. It was therefore necessary to keep the secret
+from him and from every one, till some fortunate opportunity might
+offer of revealing it—. Such an opportunity alas! was but too soon
+given in the death of my dear Capt. Dashwood—Pardon these tears,
+continued Miss Jane wiping her Eyes, I owe them to my Husband’s memory.
+He fell my Sophia, while fighting for his Country in America after a
+most happy Union of seven years—. My Children, two sweet Boys and a
+Girl, who had constantly resided with my Father and me, passing with
+him and with every one as the Children of a Brother (tho’ I had ever
+been an only Child) had as yet been the comforts of my Life. But no
+sooner had I lossed my Henry, than these sweet Creatures fell sick and
+died—. Conceive dear Sophia what my feelings must have been when as an
+Aunt I attended my Children to their early Grave—. My Father did not
+survive them many weeks—He died, poor Good old man, happily ignorant to
+his last hour of my Marriage.”
+
+“But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband’s death?”
+
+“No; I could not bring myself to do it; more especially when in my
+Children I lost all inducement for doing it. Lady Bridget, and yourself
+are the only persons who are in the knowledge of my having ever been
+either Wife or Mother. As I could not Prevail on myself to take the
+name of Dashwood (a name which after my Henry’s death I could never
+hear without emotion) and as I was conscious of having no right to that
+of Annesley, I dropt all thoughts of either, and have made it a point
+of bearing only my Christian one since my Father’s death.” She
+paused—“Oh! my dear Miss Jane (said I) how infinitely am I obliged to
+you for so entertaining a story! You cannot think how it has diverted
+me! But have you quite done?”
+
+“I have only to add my dear Sophia, that my Henry’s elder Brother
+dieing about the same time, Lady Bridget became a Widow like myself,
+and as we had always loved each other in idea from the high Character
+in which we had ever been spoken of, though we had never met, we
+determined to live together. We wrote to one another on the same
+subject by the same post, so exactly did our feeling and our actions
+coincide! We both eagerly embraced the proposals we gave and received
+of becoming one family, and have from that time lived together in the
+greatest affection.”
+
+“And is this all? said I, I hope you have not done.”
+
+“Indeed I have; and did you ever hear a story more pathetic?”
+
+“I never did—and it is for that reason it pleases me so much, for when
+one is unhappy nothing is so delightful to one’s sensations as to hear
+of equal misery.”
+
+“Ah! but my Sophia why _are you_ unhappy?”
+
+“Have you not heard Madam of Willoughby’s Marriage?”
+
+“But my love why lament _his_ perfidy, when you bore so well that of
+many young Men before?”
+
+“Ah! Madam, I was used to it then, but when Willoughby broke his
+Engagements I had not been dissapointed for half a year.”
+
+“Poor Girl!” said Miss Jane.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the THIRD
+From a YOUNG LADY in distressed Circumstances to her freind
+
+
+A few days ago I was at a private Ball given by Mr Ashburnham. As my
+Mother never goes out she entrusted me to the care of Lady Greville who
+did me the honour of calling for me in her way and of allowing me to
+sit forwards, which is a favour about which I am very indifferent
+especially as I know it is considered as confering a great obligation
+on me “So Miss Maria (said her Ladyship as she saw me advancing to the
+door of the Carriage) you seem very smart to night—_My_ poor Girls will
+appear quite to disadvantage by _you_—I only hope your Mother may not
+have distressed herself to set _you_ off. Have you got a new Gown on?”
+
+“Yes Ma’am.” replied I with as much indifference as I could assume.
+
+“Aye, and a fine one too I think—(feeling it, as by her permission I
+seated myself by her) I dare say it is all very smart—But I must own,
+for you know I always speak my mind, that I think it was quite a
+needless piece of expence—Why could not you have worn your old striped
+one? It is not my way to find fault with People because they are poor,
+for I always think that they are more to be despised and pitied than
+blamed for it, especially if they cannot help it, but at the same time
+I must say that in my opinion your old striped Gown would have been
+quite fine enough for its Wearer—for to tell you the truth (I always
+speak my mind) I am very much afraid that one half of the people in the
+room will not know whether you have a Gown on or not—But I suppose you
+intend to make your fortune to night—. Well, the sooner the better; and
+I wish you success.”
+
+“Indeed Ma’am I have no such intention—”
+
+“Who ever heard a young Lady own that she was a Fortune-hunter?” Miss
+Greville laughed but I am sure Ellen felt for me.
+
+“Was your Mother gone to bed before you left her?” said her Ladyship.
+
+“Dear Ma’am, said Ellen it is but nine o’clock.”
+
+“True Ellen, but Candles cost money, and Mrs Williams is too wise to be
+extravagant.”
+
+“She was just sitting down to supper Ma’am.”
+
+“And what had she got for supper?” “I did not observe.” “Bread and
+Cheese I suppose.” “I should never wish for a better supper.” said
+Ellen. “You have never any reason replied her Mother, as a better is
+always provided for you.” Miss Greville laughed excessively, as she
+constantly does at her Mother’s wit.
+
+Such is the humiliating Situation in which I am forced to appear while
+riding in her Ladyship’s Coach—I dare not be impertinent, as my Mother
+is always admonishing me to be humble and patient if I wish to make my
+way in the world. She insists on my accepting every invitation of Lady
+Greville, or you may be certain that I would never enter either her
+House, or her Coach with the disagreable certainty I always have of
+being abused for my Poverty while I am in them.—When we arrived at
+Ashburnham, it was nearly ten o’clock, which was an hour and a half
+later than we were desired to be there; but Lady Greville is too
+fashionable (or fancies herself to be so) to be punctual. The Dancing
+however was not begun as they waited for Miss Greville. I had not been
+long in the room before I was engaged to dance by Mr Bernard, but just
+as we were going to stand up, he recollected that his Servant had got
+his white Gloves, and immediately ran out to fetch them. In the mean
+time the Dancing began and Lady Greville in passing to another room
+went exactly before me—She saw me and instantly stopping, said to me
+though there were several people close to us,
+
+“Hey day, Miss Maria! What cannot you get a partner? Poor Young Lady! I
+am afraid your new Gown was put on for nothing. But do not despair;
+perhaps you may get a hop before the Evening is over.” So saying, she
+passed on without hearing my repeated assurance of being engaged, and
+leaving me very much provoked at being so exposed before every one—Mr
+Bernard however soon returned and by coming to me the moment he entered
+the room, and leading me to the Dancers my Character I hope was cleared
+from the imputation Lady Greville had thrown on it, in the eyes of all
+the old Ladies who had heard her speech. I soon forgot all my vexations
+in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreable partner in
+the room. As he is moreover heir to a very large Estate I could see
+that Lady Greville did not look very well pleased when she found who
+had been his Choice—She was determined to mortify me, and accordingly
+when we were sitting down between the dances, she came to me with
+_more_ than her usual insulting importance attended by Miss Mason and
+said loud enough to be heard by half the people in the room, “Pray Miss
+Maria in what way of business was your Grandfather? for Miss Mason and
+I cannot agree whether he was a Grocer or a Bookbinder.” I saw that she
+wanted to mortify me, and was resolved if I possibly could to Prevent
+her seeing that her scheme succeeded. “Neither Madam; he was a Wine
+Merchant.” “Aye, I knew he was in some such low way—He broke did not
+he?” “I beleive not Ma’am.” “Did not he abscond?” “I never heard that
+he did.” “At least he died insolvent?” “I was never told so before.”
+“Why, was not your _Father_ as poor as a Rat” “I fancy not.” “Was not
+he in the Kings Bench once?” “I never saw him there.” She gave me
+_such_ a look, and turned away in a great passion; while I was half
+delighted with myself for my impertinence, and half afraid of being
+thought too saucy. As Lady Greville was extremely angry with me, she
+took no further notice of me all the Evening, and indeed had I been in
+favour I should have been equally neglected, as she was got into a
+Party of great folks and she never speaks to me when she can to anyone
+else. Miss Greville was with her Mother’s party at supper, but Ellen
+preferred staying with the Bernards and me. We had a very pleasant
+Dance and as Lady G—slept all the way home, I had a very comfortable
+ride.
+
+The next day while we were at dinner Lady Greville’s Coach stopped at
+the door, for that is the time of day she generally contrives it
+should. She sent in a message by the servant to say that “she should
+not get out but that Miss Maria must come to the Coach-door, as she
+wanted to speak to her, and that she must make haste and come
+immediately—” “What an impertinent Message Mama!” said I—“Go Maria—”
+replied she—Accordingly I went and was obliged to stand there at her
+Ladyships pleasure though the Wind was extremely high and very cold.
+
+“Why I think Miss Maria you are not quite so smart as you were last
+night—But I did not come to examine your dress, but to tell you that
+you may dine with us the day after tomorrow—Not tomorrow, remember, do
+not come tomorrow, for we expect Lord and Lady Clermont and Sir Thomas
+Stanley’s family—There will be no occasion for your being very fine for
+I shant send the Carriage—If it rains you may take an umbrella—” I
+could hardly help laughing at hearing her give me leave to keep myself
+dry—“And pray remember to be in time, for I shant wait—I hate my
+Victuals over-done—But you need not come before the time—How does your
+Mother do? She is at dinner is not she?” “Yes Ma’am we were in the
+middle of dinner when your Ladyship came.” “I am afraid you find it
+very cold Maria.” said Ellen. “Yes, it is an horrible East wind—said
+her Mother—I assure you I can hardly bear the window down—But you are
+used to be blown about by the wind Miss Maria and that is what has made
+your Complexion so rudely and coarse. You young Ladies who cannot often
+ride in a Carriage never mind what weather you trudge in, or how the
+wind shews your legs. I would not have my Girls stand out of doors as
+you do in such a day as this. But some sort of people have no feelings
+either of cold or Delicacy—Well, remember that we shall expect you on
+Thursday at 5 o’clock—You must tell your Maid to come for you at
+night—There will be no Moon—and you will have an horrid walk home—My
+compts to Your Mother—I am afraid your dinner will be cold—Drive on—”
+And away she went, leaving me in a great passion with her as she always
+does.
+
+Maria Williams.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FOURTH
+From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind
+
+
+We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a very
+agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased with her
+appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face, her manner and
+voice had something peculiarly interesting in them. So much so, that
+they inspired me with a great curiosity to know the history of her
+Life, who were her Parents, where she came from, and what had befallen
+her, for it was then only known that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn,
+and that her name was Grenville. In the evening a favourable
+opportunity offered to me of attempting at least to know what I wished
+to know, for every one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr
+Drayton, Miss Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged
+in a whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of
+necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I wished and
+being determined not to remain in ignorance for want of asking, I began
+the Conversation in the following Manner.
+
+“Have you been long in Essex Ma’am?”
+
+“I arrived on Tuesday.”
+
+“You came from Derbyshire?”
+
+“No, Ma’am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk.” You will
+think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you know that I am not
+wanting for Impudence when I have any end in veiw. “Are you pleased
+with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you find it equal to the one you
+have left?”
+
+“Much superior Ma’am in point of Beauty.” She sighed. I longed to know
+for why.
+
+“But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but a
+poor consolation for the loss of one’s dearest Freinds.” She shook her
+head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My Curiosity was so much
+raised, that I was resolved at any rate to satisfy it.
+
+“You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?” “Indeed I do.”
+“You were born there I suppose?” “Yes Ma’am I was and passed many happy
+years there—”
+
+“That is a great comfort—said I—I hope Ma’am that you never spent any
+_un_happy one’s there.”
+
+“Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has a
+right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.—_Some_ Misfortunes I have
+certainly met with.”
+
+“_What_ Misfortunes dear Ma’am? replied I, burning with impatience to
+know every thing. “_None_ Ma’am I hope that have been the effect of any
+wilfull fault in me.” “I dare say not Ma’am, and have no doubt but that
+any sufferings you may have experienced could arise only from the
+cruelties of Relations or the Errors of Freinds.” She sighed—“You seem
+unhappy my dear Miss Grenville—Is it in my power to soften your
+Misfortunes?” “_Your_ power Ma’am replied she extremely surprised; it
+is in _no ones_ power to make me happy.” She pronounced these words in
+so mournfull and solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage
+to reply. I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few
+moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, “My dear
+Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young—and may probably
+stand in need of some one’s advice whose regard for you, joined to
+superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give
+it. I am that person, and I now challenge you to accept the offer I
+make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall
+only ask for yours—”
+
+“You are extremely obliging Ma’am—said she—and I am highly flattered by
+your attention to me—But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no
+uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be wanted. Whenever I
+am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall
+know where to apply.”
+
+I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still
+however I had not given up my point. I found that by the appearance of
+sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained and determined
+therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and suppositions. “Do you
+intend staying long in this part of England Miss Grenville?”
+
+“Yes Ma’am, some time I beleive.”
+
+“But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?”
+
+“They are neither of them alive Ma’am.” This was an answer I did not
+expect—I was quite silenced, and never felt so awkward in my Life—.
+
+
+
+
+LETTER the FIFTH
+From a YOUNG LADY very much in love to her Freind
+
+
+My Uncle gets more stingy, my Aunt more particular, and I more in love
+every day. What shall we all be at this rate by the end of the year! I
+had this morning the happiness of receiving the following Letter from
+my dear Musgrove.
+
+Sackville St: Janry 7th
+
+
+It is a month to day since I first beheld my lovely Henrietta, and the
+sacred anniversary must and shall be kept in a manner becoming the
+day—by writing to her. Never shall I forget the moment when her
+Beauties first broke on my sight—No time as you well know can erase it
+from my Memory. It was at Lady Scudamores. Happy Lady Scudamore to live
+within a mile of the divine Henrietta! When the lovely Creature first
+entered the room, oh! what were my sensations? The sight of you was
+like the sight ofa wonderful fine Thing. I started—I gazed at her with
+admiration—She appeared every moment more Charming, and the unfortunate
+Musgrove became a captive to your Charms before I had time to look
+about me. Yes Madam, I had the happiness of adoring you, an happiness
+for which I cannot be too grateful. “What said he to himself is
+Musgrove allowed to die for Henrietta? Enviable Mortal! and may he pine
+for her who is the object of universal admiration, who is adored by a
+Colonel, and toasted by a Baronet! Adorable Henrietta how beautiful you
+are! I declare you are quite divine! You are more than Mortal. You are
+an Angel. You are Venus herself. In short Madam you are the prettiest
+Girl I ever saw in my Life—and her Beauty is encreased in her Musgroves
+Eyes, by permitting him to love her and allowing me to hope. And ah!
+Angelic Miss Henrietta Heaven is my witness how ardently I do hope for
+the death of your villanous Uncle and his abandoned Wife, since my fair
+one will not consent to be mine till their decease has placed her in
+affluence above what my fortune can procure—. Though it is an
+improvable Estate—. Cruel Henrietta to persist in such a resolution! I
+am at Present with my sister where I mean to continue till my own house
+which tho’ an excellent one is at Present somewhat out of repair, is
+ready to receive me. Amiable princess of my Heart farewell—Of that
+Heart which trembles while it signs itself Your most ardent Admirer and
+devoted humble servt.
+
+T. Musgrove.
+
+
+There is a pattern for a Love-letter Matilda! Did you ever read such a
+master-piece of Writing? Such sense, such sentiment, such purity of
+Thought, such flow of Language and such unfeigned Love in one sheet?
+No, never I can answer for it, since a Musgrove is not to be met with
+by every Girl. Oh! how I long to be with him! I intend to send him the
+following in answer to his Letter tomorrow.
+
+My dearest Musgrove—. Words cannot express how happy your Letter made
+me; I thought I should have cried for joy, for I love you better than
+any body in the World. I think you the most amiable, and the handsomest
+Man in England, and so to be sure you are. I never read so sweet a
+Letter in my Life. Do write me another just like it, and tell me you
+are in love with me in every other line. I quite die to see you. How
+shall we manage to see one another? for we are so much in love that we
+cannot live asunder. Oh! my dear Musgrove you cannot think how
+impatiently I wait for the death of my Uncle and Aunt—If they will not
+Die soon, I beleive I shall run mad, for I get more in love with you
+every day of my Life.
+
+How happy your Sister is to enjoy the pleasure of your Company in her
+house, and how happy every body in London must be because you are
+there. I hope you will be so kind as to write to me again soon, for I
+never read such sweet Letters as yours. I am my dearest Musgrove most
+truly and faithfully yours for ever and ever
+
+Henrietta Halton.
+
+
+I hope he will like my answer; it is as good a one as I can write
+though nothing to his; Indeed I had always heard what a dab he was at a
+Love-letter. I saw him you know for the first time at Lady
+Scudamores—And when I saw her Ladyship afterwards she asked me how I
+liked her Cousin Musgrove?
+
+“Why upon my word said I, I think he is a very handsome young Man.”
+
+“I am glad you think so replied she, for he is distractedly in love
+with you.”
+
+“Law! Lady Scudamore said I, how can you talk so ridiculously?”
+
+“Nay, t’is very true answered she, I assure you, for he was in love
+with you from the first moment he beheld you.”
+
+“I wish it may be true said I, for that is the only kind of love I
+would give a farthing for—There is some sense in being in love at first
+sight.”
+
+“Well, I give you Joy of your conquest, replied Lady Scudamore, and I
+beleive it to have been a very complete one; I am sure it is not a
+contemptible one, for my Cousin is a charming young fellow, has seen a
+great deal of the World, and writes the best Love-letters I ever read.”
+
+This made me very happy, and I was excessively pleased with my
+conquest. However, I thought it was proper to give myself a few Airs—so
+I said to her—
+
+“This is all very pretty Lady Scudamore, but you know that we young
+Ladies who are Heiresses must not throw ourselves away upon Men who
+have no fortune at all.”
+
+“My dear Miss Halton said she, I am as much convinced of that as you
+can be, and I do assure you that I should be the last person to
+encourage your marrying anyone who had not some pretensions to expect a
+fortune with you. Mr Musgrove is so far from being poor that he has an
+estate of several hundreds an year which is capable of great
+Improvement, and an excellent House, though at Present it is not quite
+in repair.”
+
+“If that is the case replied I, I have nothing more to say against him,
+and if as you say he is an informed young Man and can write a good
+Love-letter, I am sure I have no reason to find fault with him for
+admiring me, tho’ perhaps I may not marry him for all that Lady
+Scudamore.”
+
+“You are certainly under no obligation to marry him answered her
+Ladyship, except that which love himself will dictate to you, for if I
+am not greatly mistaken you are at this very moment unknown to
+yourself, cherishing a most tender affection for him.”
+
+“Law, Lady Scudamore replied I blushing how can you think of such a
+thing?”
+
+“Because every look, every word betrays it, answered she; Come my dear
+Henrietta, consider me as a freind, and be sincere with me—Do not you
+prefer Mr Musgrove to any man of your acquaintance?”
+
+“Pray do not ask me such questions Lady Scudamore, said I turning away
+my head, for it is not fit for me to answer them.”
+
+“Nay my Love replied she, now you confirm my suspicions. But why
+Henrietta should you be ashamed to own a well-placed Love, or why
+refuse to confide in me?”
+
+“I am not ashamed to own it; said I taking Courage. I do not refuse to
+confide in you or blush to say that I do love your cousin Mr Musgrove,
+that I am sincerely attached to him, for it is no disgrace to love a
+handsome Man. If he were plain indeed I might have had reason to be
+ashamed of a passion which must have been mean since the object would
+have been unworthy. But with such a figure and face, and such beautiful
+hair as your Cousin has, why should I blush to own that such superior
+merit has made an impression on me.”
+
+“My sweet Girl (said Lady Scudamore embracing me with great affection)
+what a delicate way of thinking you have in these matters, and what a
+quick discernment for one of your years! Oh! how I honour you for such
+Noble Sentiments!”
+
+“Do you Ma’am said I; You are vastly obliging. But pray Lady Scudamore
+did your Cousin himself tell you of his affection for me I shall like
+him the better if he did, for what is a Lover without a Confidante?”
+
+“Oh! my Love replied she, you were born for each other. Every word you
+say more deeply convinces me that your Minds are actuated by the
+invisible power of simpathy, for your opinions and sentiments so
+exactly coincide. Nay, the colour of your Hair is not very different.
+Yes my dear Girl, the poor despairing Musgrove did reveal to me the
+story of his Love—. Nor was I surprised at it—I know not how it was,
+but I had a kind of presentiment that he _would_ be in love with you.”
+
+“Well, but how did he break it to you?”
+
+“It was not till after supper. We were sitting round the fire together
+talking on indifferent subjects, though to say the truth the
+Conversation was cheifly on my side for he was thoughtful and silent,
+when on a sudden he interrupted me in the midst of something I was
+saying, by exclaiming in a most Theatrical tone—
+
+Yes I’m in love I feel it now And Henrietta Halton has undone me
+
+“Oh! What a sweet way replied I, of declaring his Passion! To make such
+a couple of charming lines about me! What a pity it is that they are
+not in rhime!”
+
+“I am very glad you like it answered she; To be sure there was a great
+deal of Taste in it. And are you in love with her, Cousin? said I. I am
+very sorry for it, for unexceptionable as you are in every respect,
+with a pretty Estate capable of Great improvements, and an excellent
+House tho’ somewhat out of repair, yet who can hope to aspire with
+success to the adorable Henrietta who has had an offer from a Colonel
+and been toasted by a Baronet”—“_That_ I have—” cried I. Lady Scudamore
+continued. “Ah dear Cousin replied he, I am so well convinced of the
+little Chance I can have of winning her who is adored by thousands,
+that I need no assurances of yours to make me more thoroughly so. Yet
+surely neither you or the fair Henrietta herself will deny me the
+exquisite Gratification of dieing for her, of falling a victim to her
+Charms. And when I am dead”—continued her—
+
+“Oh Lady Scudamore, said I wiping my eyes, that such a sweet Creature
+should talk of dieing!”
+
+“It is an affecting Circumstance indeed, replied Lady Scudamore.” “When
+I am dead said he, let me be carried and lain at her feet, and perhaps
+she may not disdain to drop a pitying tear on my poor remains.”
+
+“Dear Lady Scudamore interrupted I, say no more on this affecting
+subject. I cannot bear it.”
+
+“Oh! how I admire the sweet sensibility of your Soul, and as I would
+not for Worlds wound it too deeply, I will be silent.”
+
+“Pray go on.” said I. She did so.
+
+“And then added he, Ah! Cousin imagine what my transports will be when
+I feel the dear precious drops trickle on my face! Who would not die to
+haste such extacy! And when I am interred, may the divine Henrietta
+bless some happier Youth with her affection, May he be as tenderly
+attached to her as the hapless Musgrove and while _he_ crumbles to
+dust, May they live an example of Felicity in the Conjugal state!”
+
+Did you ever hear any thing so pathetic? What a charming wish, to be
+lain at my feet when he was dead! Oh! what an exalted mind he must have
+to be capable of such a wish! Lady Scudamore went on.
+
+“Ah! my dear Cousin replied I to him, such noble behaviour as this,
+must melt the heart of any woman however obdurate it may naturally be;
+and could the divine Henrietta but hear your generous wishes for her
+happiness, all gentle as is her mind, I have not a doubt but that she
+would pity your affection and endeavour to return it.” “Oh! Cousin
+answered he, do not endeavour to raise my hopes by such flattering
+assurances. No, I cannot hope to please this angel of a Woman, and the
+only thing which remains for me to do, is to die.” “True Love is ever
+desponding replied I, but _I_ my dear Tom will give you even greater
+hopes of conquering this fair one’s heart, than I have yet given you,
+by assuring you that I watched her with the strictest attention during
+the whole day, and could plainly discover that she cherishes in her
+bosom though unknown to herself, a most tender affection for you.”
+
+“Dear Lady Scudamore cried I, This is more than I ever knew!”
+
+“Did not I say that it was unknown to yourself? I did not, continued I
+to him, encourage you by saying this at first, that surprise might
+render the pleasure still Greater.” “No Cousin replied he in a languid
+voice, nothing will convince me that _I_ can have touched the heart of
+Henrietta Halton, and if you are deceived yourself, do not attempt
+deceiving me.” “In short my Love it was the work of some hours for me
+to Persuade the poor despairing Youth that you had really a preference
+for him; but when at last he could no longer deny the force of my
+arguments, or discredit what I told him, his transports, his Raptures,
+his Extacies are beyond my power to describe.”
+
+“Oh! the dear Creature, cried I, how passionately he loves me! But dear
+Lady Scudamore did you tell him that I was totally dependant on my
+Uncle and Aunt?”
+
+“Yes, I told him every thing.”
+
+“And what did he say.”
+
+“He exclaimed with virulence against Uncles and Aunts; Accused the laws
+of England for allowing them to Possess their Estates when wanted by
+their Nephews or Neices, and wished _he_ were in the House of Commons,
+that he might reform the Legislature, and rectify all its abuses.”
+
+“Oh! the sweet Man! What a spirit he has!” said I.
+
+“He could not flatter himself he added, that the adorable Henrietta
+would condescend for his sake to resign those Luxuries and that
+splendor to which she had been used, and accept only in exchange the
+Comforts and Elegancies which his limited Income could afford her, even
+supposing that his house were in Readiness to receive her. I told him
+that it could not be expected that she would; it would be doing her an
+injustice to suppose her capable of giving up the power she now
+possesses and so nobly uses of doing such extensive Good to the poorer
+part of her fellow Creatures, merely for the gratification of you and
+herself.”
+
+“To be sure said I, I _am_ very Charitable every now and then. And what
+did Mr Musgrove say to this?”
+
+“He replied that he was under a melancholy necessity of owning the
+truth of what I said, and that therefore if he should be the happy
+Creature destined to be the Husband of the Beautiful Henrietta he must
+bring himself to wait, however impatiently, for the fortunate day, when
+she might be freed from the power of worthless Relations and able to
+bestow herself on him.”
+
+What a noble Creature he is! Oh! Matilda what a fortunate one I am, who
+am to be his Wife! My Aunt is calling me to come and make the pies, so
+adeiu my dear freind, and beleive me yours etc—
+
+H. Halton.
+
+
+Finis.
+
+
+
+
+SCRAPS
+
+
+
+
+To Miss FANNY CATHERINE AUSTEN
+
+
+MY DEAR NEICE
+
+As I am prevented by the great distance between Rowling and Steventon
+from superintending your Education myself, the care of which will
+probably on that account devolve on your Father and Mother, I think it
+is my particular Duty to Prevent your feeling as much as possible the
+want of my personal instructions, by addressing to you on paper my
+Opinions and Admonitions on the conduct of Young Women, which you will
+find expressed in the following pages.—
+
+I am my dear Neice
+Your affectionate Aunt
+The Author.
+
+
+
+
+THE FEMALE PHILOSOPHER
+
+A LETTER
+
+MY DEAR LOUISA
+
+Your friend Mr Millar called upon us yesterday in his way to Bath,
+whither he is going for his health; two of his daughters were with him,
+but the eldest and the three Boys are with their Mother in Sussex.
+Though you have often told me that Miss Millar was remarkably handsome,
+you never mentioned anything of her Sisters’ beauty; yet they are
+certainly extremely pretty. I’ll give you their description.—Julia is
+eighteen; with a countenance in which Modesty, Sense and Dignity are
+happily blended, she has a form which at once presents you with Grace,
+Elegance and Symmetry. Charlotte who is just sixteen is shorter than
+her Sister, and though her figure cannot boast the easy dignity of
+Julia’s, yet it has a pleasing plumpness which is in a different way as
+estimable. She is fair and her face is expressive sometimes of softness
+the most bewitching, and at others of Vivacity the most striking. She
+appears to have infinite Wit and a good humour unalterable; her
+conversation during the half hour they set with us, was replete with
+humourous sallies, Bonmots and repartees; while the sensible, the
+amiable Julia uttered sentiments of Morality worthy of a heart like her
+own. Mr Millar appeared to answer the character I had always received
+of him. My Father met him with that look of Love, that social Shake,
+and cordial kiss which marked his gladness at beholding an old and
+valued freind from whom thro’ various circumstances he had been
+separated nearly twenty years. Mr Millar observed (and very justly too)
+that many events had befallen each during that interval of time, which
+gave occasion to the lovely Julia for making most sensible reflections
+on the many changes in their situation which so long a period had
+occasioned, on the advantages of some, and the disadvantages of others.
+From this subject she made a short digression to the instability of
+human pleasures and the uncertainty of their duration, which led her to
+observe that all earthly Joys must be imperfect. She was proceeding to
+illustrate this doctrine by examples from the Lives of great Men when
+the Carriage came to the Door and the amiable Moralist with her Father
+and Sister was obliged to depart; but not without a promise of spending
+five or six months with us on their return. We of course mentioned you,
+and I assure you that ample Justice was done to your Merits by all.
+“Louisa Clarke (said I) is in general a very pleasant Girl, yet
+sometimes her good humour is clouded by Peevishness, Envy and Spite.
+She neither wants Understanding or is without some pretensions to
+Beauty, but these are so very trifling, that the value she sets on her
+personal charms, and the adoration she expects them to be offered are
+at once a striking example of her vanity, her pride, and her folly.” So
+said I, and to my opinion everyone added weight by the concurrence of
+their own.
+
+Your affectionate
+Arabella Smythe.
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST ACT OF A COMEDY
+
+
+_Characters_
+
+Popgun                 Maria
+Charles                Pistolletta
+Postilion              Hostess
+Chorus of ploughboys   Cook
+and                    and
+Strephon               Chloe
+
+
+SCENE—AN INN
+
+
+_Enter_ Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook.
+
+
+Hostess to Maria
+If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9.
+
+Maria
+Yes Mistress.—_exit_ Maria
+
+Hostess to Cook
+If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them.
+
+Cook
+I will, I will. _exit_ Cook.
+
+Hostess to Charles
+If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it.
+
+Charles
+Yes Madam. _exeunt_ Severally.
+
+SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta.
+
+
+Pistoletta
+Pray papa how far is it to London?
+
+Popgun
+My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the
+picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am
+going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my
+whole Estate, it wants seven Miles.
+
+
+SCENE CHANGES TO THE SUN—
+
+
+_Enter_ Chloe and a chorus of ploughboys.
+
+
+Chloe
+Where am I? At Hounslow.—Where go I? To London—. What to do? To be
+married—. Unto whom? Unto Strephon. Who is he? A Youth. Then I will
+sing a song.
+
+SONG
+
+
+I go to Town
+And when I come down,
+I shall be married to Streephon.*
+And that to me will be fun.
+
+
+[* Note the two e’s]
+
+
+Chorus
+
+
+Be fun, be fun, be fun,
+And that to me will be fun.
+
+
+_Enter_ Cook—
+
+
+Cook
+Here is the bill of fare.
+
+Chloe reads
+2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a tart.—I will have
+the leg of beef and the partridge.
+
+_Exit_ Cook.
+
+And now I will sing another song.
+
+SONG
+
+
+I am going to have my dinner,
+After which I shan’t be thinner,
+I wish I had here Strephon
+For he would carve the partridge if it should be a tough one.
+
+
+Chorus
+
+
+Tough one, tough one, tough one
+For he would carve the partridge if it
+Should be a tough one.
+
+
+_Exit_ Chloe and Chorus.—
+
+SCENE CHANGES TO THE INSIDE OF THE LION.
+
+
+_Enter_ Strephon and Postilion.
+
+
+Streph:)
+You drove me from Staines to this place, from whence I mean to go to
+Town to marry Chloe. How much is your due?
+
+Post:
+Eighteen pence.
+
+Streph:
+Alas, my freind, I have but a bad guinea with which I mean to support
+myself in Town. But I will pawn to you an undirected Letter that I
+received from Chloe.
+
+Post:
+Sir, I accept your offer.
+
+END OF THE FIRST ACT.
+
+
+
+
+A LETTER from a YOUNG LADY, whose feelings being too strong for her
+Judgement led her into the commission of Errors which her Heart
+disapproved.
+
+Many have been the cares and vicissitudes of my past life, my beloved
+Ellinor, and the only consolation I feel for their bitterness is that
+on a close examination of my conduct, I am convinced that I have
+strictly deserved them. I murdered my father at a very early period of
+my Life, I have since murdered my Mother, and I am now going to murder
+my Sister. I have changed my religion so often that at present I have
+not an idea of any left. I have been a perjured witness in every public
+tryal for these last twelve years; and I have forged my own Will. In
+short there is scarcely a crime that I have not committed—But I am now
+going to reform. Colonel Martin of the Horse guards has paid his
+Addresses to me, and we are to be married in a few days. As there is
+something singular in our Courtship, I will give you an account of it.
+Colonel Martin is the second son of the late Sir John Martin who died
+immensely rich, but bequeathing only one hundred thousand pound apeice
+to his three younger Children, left the bulk of his fortune, about
+eight Million to the present Sir Thomas. Upon his small pittance the
+Colonel lived tolerably contented for nearly four months when he took
+it into his head to determine on getting the whole of his eldest
+Brother’s Estate. A new will was forged and the Colonel produced it in
+Court—but nobody would swear to it’s being the right will except
+himself, and he had sworn so much that Nobody beleived him. At that
+moment I happened to be passing by the door of the Court, and was
+beckoned in by the Judge who told the Colonel that I was a Lady ready
+to witness anything for the cause of Justice, and advised him to apply
+to me. In short the Affair was soon adjusted. The Colonel and I swore
+to its’ being the right will, and Sir Thomas has been obliged to resign
+all his illgotten wealth. The Colonel in gratitude waited on me the
+next day with an offer of his hand—. I am now going to murder my
+Sister.
+
+Yours Ever,
+Anna Parker.
+
+
+
+
+A TOUR THROUGH WALES—
+in a LETTER from a YOUNG LADY—
+
+
+MY DEAR CLARA
+
+I have been so long on the ramble that I have not till now had it in my
+power to thank you for your Letter—. We left our dear home on last
+Monday month; and proceeded on our tour through Wales, which is a
+principality contiguous to England and gives the title to the Prince of
+Wales. We travelled on horseback by preference. My Mother rode upon our
+little poney and Fanny and I walked by her side or rather ran, for my
+Mother is so fond of riding fast that she galloped all the way. You may
+be sure that we were in a fine perspiration when we came to our place
+of resting. Fanny has taken a great many Drawings of the Country, which
+are very beautiful, tho’ perhaps not such exact resemblances as might
+be wished, from their being taken as she ran along. It would astonish
+you to see all the Shoes we wore out in our Tour. We determined to take
+a good Stock with us and therefore each took a pair of our own besides
+those we set off in. However we were obliged to have them both capped
+and heelpeiced at Carmarthen, and at last when they were quite gone,
+Mama was so kind as to lend us a pair of blue Sattin Slippers, of which
+we each took one and hopped home from Hereford delightfully—
+
+I am your ever affectionate
+Elizabeth Johnson.
+
+
+
+
+A TALE.
+
+
+A Gentleman whose family name I shall conceal, bought a small Cottage
+in Pembrokeshire about two years ago. This daring Action was suggested
+to him by his elder Brother who promised to furnish two rooms and a
+Closet for him, provided he would take a small house near the borders
+of an extensive Forest, and about three Miles from the Sea. Wilhelminus
+gladly accepted the offer and continued for some time searching after
+such a retreat when he was one morning agreably releived from his
+suspence by reading this advertisement in a Newspaper.
+
+TO BE LETT
+
+
+A Neat Cottage on the borders of an extensive forest and about three
+Miles from the Sea. It is ready furnished except two rooms and a
+Closet.
+
+The delighted Wilhelminus posted away immediately to his brother, and
+shewed him the advertisement. Robertus congratulated him and sent him
+in his Carriage to take possession of the Cottage. After travelling for
+three days and six nights without stopping, they arrived at the Forest
+and following a track which led by it’s side down a steep Hill over
+which ten Rivulets meandered, they reached the Cottage in half an hour.
+Wilhelminus alighted, and after knocking for some time without
+receiving any answer or hearing any one stir within, he opened the door
+which was fastened only by a wooden latch and entered a small room,
+which he immediately perceived to be one of the two that were
+unfurnished—From thence he proceeded into a Closet equally bare. A pair
+of stairs that went out of it led him into a room above, no less
+destitute, and these apartments he found composed the whole of the
+House. He was by no means displeased with this discovery, as he had the
+comfort of reflecting that he should not be obliged to lay out anything
+on furniture himself—. He returned immediately to his Brother, who took
+him the next day to every Shop in Town, and bought what ever was
+requisite to furnish the two rooms and the Closet, In a few days
+everything was completed, and Wilhelminus returned to take possession
+of his Cottage. Robertus accompanied him, with his Lady the amiable
+Cecilia and her two lovely Sisters Arabella and Marina to whom
+Wilhelminus was tenderly attached, and a large number of Attendants.—An
+ordinary Genius might probably have been embarrassed, in endeavouring
+to accomodate so large a party, but Wilhelminus with admirable presence
+of mind gave orders for the immediate erection of two noble Tents in an
+open spot in the Forest adjoining to the house. Their Construction was
+both simple and elegant—A couple of old blankets, each supported by
+four sticks, gave a striking proof of that taste for architecture and
+that happy ease in overcoming difficulties which were some of
+Wilhelminus’s most striking Virtues.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1212 ***