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LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP and Other Early Works also spelled LOVE AND FREINDSHIP

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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.

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.

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

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
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.

Portman Square April 13th

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.






To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Rev. George Austen, this
work is inscribed with all due respect by

N.B. There will be very few Dates in this History.


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.


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.----


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.

My first is what my second was to King James the 1st, and you
tread on my whole.

The principal favourites of his Majesty were Car, who was
afterwards created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may
have some share in the above mentioned Sharade, and George
Villiers afterwards Duke of Buckingham. On his Majesty's death
he was succeeded by his son Charles.

CHARLES the 1st

This amiable Monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes
equal to those of his lovely Grandmother; misfortunes which he
could not deserve since he was her descendant. Never certainly
were there before so many detestable Characters at one time in
England as in this Period of its History; never were amiable men
so scarce. The number of them throughout the whole Kingdom
amounting only to FIVE, besides the inhabitants of Oxford who
were always loyal to their King and faithful to his interests.
The names of this noble five who never forgot the duty of the
subject, or swerved from their attachment to his Majesty, were as
follows--The King himself, ever stedfast in his own support
--Archbishop Laud, Earl of Strafford, Viscount Faulkland and Duke
of Ormond, who were scarcely less strenuous or zealous in the
cause. While the VILLIANS of the time would make too long a list
to be written or read; I shall therefore content myself with
mentioning the leaders of the Gang. Cromwell, Fairfax, Hampden,
and Pym may be considered as the original Causers of all the
disturbances, Distresses, and Civil Wars in which England for
many years was embroiled. In this reign as well as in that of
Elizabeth, I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the Scotch,
to consider them as equally guilty with the generality of the
English, since they dared to think differently from their
Sovereign, to forget the Adoration which as STUARTS it was their
Duty to pay them, to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the
unfortunate Mary; to oppose, to deceive, and to sell the no less
unfortunate Charles. The Events of this Monarch's reign are too
numerous for my pen, and indeed the recital of any Events (except
what I make myself) is uninteresting to me; my principal reason
for undertaking the History of England being to Prove the
innocence of the Queen of Scotland, which I flatter myself with
having effectually done, and to abuse Elizabeth, tho' I am rather
fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme.
--As therefore it is not my intention to give any particular
account of the distresses into which this King was involved
through the misconduct and Cruelty of his Parliament, I shall
satisfy myself with vindicating him from the Reproach of
Arbitrary and tyrannical Government with which he has often been
charged. This, I feel, is not difficult to be done, for with one
argument I am certain of satisfying every sensible and well
disposed person whose opinions have been properly guided by a
good Education--and this Argument is that he was a STUART.

Saturday Nov: 26th 1791.




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.



From a MOTHER to her FREIND.

My Children begin now to claim all my attention in different
Manner from that in which they have been used to receive it, as
they are now arrived at that age when it is necessary for them in
some measure to become conversant with the World, My Augusta is
17 and her sister scarcely a twelvemonth younger. I flatter
myself that their education has been such as will not disgrace
their appearance in the World, and that THEY will not disgrace
their Education I have every reason to beleive. Indeed they are
sweet Girls--. Sensible yet unaffected--Accomplished yet Easy--.
Lively yet Gentle--. As their progress in every thing they have
learnt has been always the same, I am willing to forget the
difference of age, and to introduce them together into Public.
This very Evening is fixed on as their first ENTREE into Life, as
we are to drink tea with Mrs Cope and her Daughter. I am glad
that we are to meet no one, for my Girls sake, as it would be
awkward for them to enter too wide a Circle on the very first
day. But we shall proceed by degrees.--Tomorrow Mr Stanly's
family will drink tea with us, and perhaps the Miss Phillips's
will meet them. On Tuesday we shall pay Morning Visits--On
Wednesday we are to dine at Westbrook. On Thursday we have
Company at home. On Friday we are to be at a Private Concert at
Sir John Wynna's--and on Saturday we expect Miss Dawson to call
in the Morning--which will complete my Daughters Introduction
into Life. How they will bear so much dissipation I cannot
imagine; of their spirits I have no fear, I only dread their

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
Yrs Ever--A. F.

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

"But did not you own it, and assume his name at your husband's

"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.

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

"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

"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.

From a YOUNG LADY rather impertinent to her freind

We dined yesterday with Mr Evelyn where we were introduced to a
very agreable looking Girl his Cousin. I was extremely pleased
with her appearance, for added to the charms of an engaging face,
her manner and voice had something peculiarly interesting in
them. So much so, that they inspired me with a great curiosity
to know the history of her Life, who were her Parents, where she
came from, and what had befallen her, for it was then only known
that she was a relation of Mr Evelyn, and that her name was
Grenville. In the evening a favourable opportunity offered to me
of attempting at least to know what I wished to know, for every
one played at Cards but Mrs Evelyn, My Mother, Dr Drayton, Miss
Grenville and myself, and as the two former were engaged in a
whispering Conversation, and the Doctor fell asleep, we were of
necessity obliged to entertain each other. This was what I
wished and being determined not to remain in ignorance for want
of asking, I began the Conversation in the following Manner.

"Have you been long in Essex Ma'am?"

"I arrived on Tuesday."

"You came from Derbyshire?"

"No, Ma'am! appearing surprised at my question, from Suffolk."
You will think this a good dash of mine my dear Mary, but you
know that I am not wanting for Impudence when I have any end in
veiw. "Are you pleased with the Country Miss Grenville? Do you
find it equal to the one you have left?"

"Much superior Ma'am in point of Beauty." She sighed. I longed to
know for why.

"But the face of any Country however beautiful said I, can be but
a poor consolation for the loss of one's dearest Freinds." She
shook her head, as if she felt the truth of what I said. My
Curiosity was so much raised, that I was resolved at any rate to
satisfy it.

"You regret having left Suffolk then Miss Grenville?" "Indeed I
do." "You were born there I suppose?" "Yes Ma'am I was and
passed many happy years there--"

"That is a great comfort--said I--I hope Ma'am that you never
spent any unhappy one's there."

"Perfect Felicity is not the property of Mortals, and no one has
a right to expect uninterrupted Happiness.--Some Misfortunes I
have certainly met with."

"WHAT Misfortunes dear Ma'am? replied I, burning with impatience
to know every thing. "NONE Ma'am I hope that have been the
effect of any wilfull fault in me." " I dare say not Ma'am, and
have no doubt but that any sufferings you may have experienced
could arise only from the cruelties of Relations or the Errors of
Freinds." She sighed--"You seem unhappy my dear Miss Grenville
--Is it in my power to soften your Misfortunes?" "YOUR power
Ma'am replied she extremely surprised; it is in NO ONES power to
make me happy." She pronounced these words in so mournfull and
solemn an accent, that for some time I had not courage to reply.
I was actually silenced. I recovered myself however in a few
moments and looking at her with all the affection I could, "My
dear Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young--and may
probably stand in need of some one's advice whose regard for you,
joined to superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might
authorise her to give it. I am that person, and I now challenge
you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and
Freindship, in return to which I shall only ask for yours--"

"You are extremely obliging Ma'am--said she--and I am highly
flattered by your attention to me--But I am in no difficulty, no
doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any advice can be
wanted. Whenever I am however continued she brightening into a
complaisant smile, I shall know where to apply."

I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse; still
however I had not given up my point. I found that by the
appearance of sentiment and Freindship nothing was to be gained
and determined therefore to renew my attacks by Questions and
suppositions. "Do you intend staying long in this part of
England Miss Grenville?"

"Yes Ma'am, some time I beleive."

"But how will Mr and Mrs Grenville bear your absence?"

"They are neither of them alive Ma'am."
This was an answer I did not expect--I was quite silenced, and
never felt so awkward in my Life---.

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

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
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

"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

"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

"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

"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.





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.



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.


Popgun Maria
Charles Pistolletta
Postilion Hostess
Chorus of ploughboys Cook
and and
Strephon Chloe


ENTER Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook.

Hostess to Maria) If the gentry in the Lion should want beds,
shew them number 9.

Maria) Yes Mistress.-- EXIT Maria

Hostess to Cook) If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of
fare, give it them.

Cook) I wull, I wull. EXIT Cook.

Hostess to Charles) If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their

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.


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.

I go to Town
And when I come down,
I shall be married to Streephon* [*Note the two e's]
And that to me will be fun.

Chorus) Be fun, be fun, be fun,
And that to me will be fun.

ENTER Cook--
Cook) Here is the bill of fare.

Chloe reads) 2 Ducks, a leg of beef, a stinking partridge, and a
tart.--I will have the leg of beef and the partridge. EXIT Cook.
And now I will sing another song.

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.

Tough one, tough one, tough one
For he would carve the partridge if it
Should be a tough one.
EXIT Chloe and Chorus.--


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.


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.

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 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.

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.

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