“Calamity is the test of integrity.”
'She said it was hard she could not be permitted to die in peace: that
her lot was a severe one: that she began to be afraid she should not
forbear repining, and to think her punishment greater than her fault:
but, recalling herself immediately, she comforted herself, that her life
would be short, and with the assurance of a better.'
By what I have mentioned, you will conclude with me, that the letter
brought her by Mrs. Lovick (the superscription of which you saw to be
written in her sister's hand) could not be the letter on the contents of
which she grounded that she wrote to you, on her return home. And yet
neither Mrs. Lovick, nor Mrs. Smith, nor the servant of the latter, know
of any other brought her. But as the women assured me, that she actually
did write to you, I was eased of a suspicion which I had begun to
entertain, that you (for some purpose I could not guess at) had forged
the letter from her of which you sent me a copy.
On Wednesday morning, when she received your letter, in answer to her's,
she said, Necessity may well be called the mother of invention--but
calamity is the test of integrity.--I hope I have not taken an
inexcusable step--And there she stopt a minute or two; and then said, I
shall now, perhaps, be allowed to die in peace.
I staid till she came in. She was glad to see me; but, being very weak,
said, she must sit down before she could go up stairs: and so went into
the back-shop; leaning upon Mrs. Lovick: and when she had sat down, 'I am
glad to see you, Mr. Belford, said she; I must say so--let mis-reporters
say what they will.'
I wondered at this expression;* but would not interrupt her.
* Explained in Letter XXVIII. of this volume.
O Sir, said she, I have been grievously harassed. Your friend, who would
not let me live with reputation, will not permit me to die in peace. You
see how I am. Is there not a great alteration in me within this week!
but 'tis all for the better. Yet were I to wish for life, I must say
that your friend, your barbarous friend, has hurt me greatly.
She was so weak, so short breathed, and her words and actions so very
moving, that I was forced to walk from her; the two women and her nurse
turning away their faces also, weeping.
“Too liberal self-accusations are generally but so many traps for acquittal with applause”
The countess said, that you wrong yourself in supposing you are not
every thing that is polite and genteel, as well in your behaviour, as
in your person; and that she knows not any lady in England who better
becomes her station than you do.
"Why, then," said Lady Jenny, "Mrs. B. must be quite perfect:
that's certain." So said the earl; so said they all. And Lord Davers
confirmed that you were.
Yet, as we are sure, there cannot be such a character in this life
as has not one fault, although we could not tell where to fix it, the
countess made a whimsical motion: "Lady Davers," said she, "pray do
you write to Mrs. B. and acquaint her with our subject; and as it
is impossible, for one who can act as she does, not to know herself
better than any body else can do, desire her to acquaint us with some
of those secret foibles, that leave room for her to be still more
perfect."
"A good thought," said they all. And this is the present occasion of
my writing; and pray see that you accuse yourself, of no more than you
know yourself guilty: for over-modesty borders nearly on pride, and
too liberal self-accusations are generally but so many traps for
acquittal with applause: so that (whatever other ladies might) you
will not be forgiven, if you deal with us in a way so poorly artful;
let your faults, therefore, be such as you think we can subscribe to,
from what we have _seen_ of _you_ and what we have _read_ of _yours_;
and you must try to extenuate them too, as you give them, lest we
should think you above that nature, which, in the _best_ cases, is
your undoubted talent.
I congratulate you and Miss Damford on her arrival: she is a charming
young lady; but tell her, that we shall not allow her to take you at
your word, and to think that she excels you in any one thing: only,
indeed, we think you nicer in some points than you need be to, as to
your present agreeable circumstance. And yet, let me tell you, that
the easy, unaffected, conjugal purity, in word and behaviour, between
your good man and you, is worthy of imitation, and what the countess
and I have with pleasure contemplated since we left you, an hundred
times, and admire in you both: and it is good policy too, child,
as well as high decorum; for it is what will make you ever new and
respectful to one another.
“Good men must be affectionate men.”
And what a share of it has this excellent man in his life!
--May nothing, for the honour-sake of human nature, to which he is so
great an ornament, ever happen to tarnish it!
They made me a hundred fine compliments. I could not but be pleased at
standing well in their opinion: but, believe me, my dear, I did not enjoy
their praises of me, as I did those they gave him. Indeed, I had the
presumption, from the approbation given to what they said of him by my
own heart, to imagine myself a sharer in them, though not in his merits.
Oh, Lucy! ought there not to have been a relation between us, since what
I have said, from what I found in myself on hearing him praised, is a
demonstration of a regard for him superior to the love of self?
Adieu, my Lucy. I know I have all your prayers.
Adieu, my dear!
LETTER VI
MISS BYRON.--IN CONTINUATION
SATURDAY, APRIL 1.
Dr. Bartlett is one of the kindest as well as best of men. I believe he
loves me as if I were his own child: but good men must be affectionate
men. He received but this morning a letter from Sir Charles, and
hastened to communicate some of its contents to me, though I could
pretend to no other motive but curiosity for wishing to be acquainted
with the proceedings of his patron.
Sir Charles dined, as he had intended, with Sir Hargrave and his friends.
He complains in his letter of a riotous day: yet I think, adds he, it has
led me into some useful reflections. It is not indeed agreeable to be
the spectator of riot; but how easy to shun being a partaker in it! Ho
easy to avoid the too freely circling glass, if a man is known to have
established a rule to himself, from which he will not depart; and if it
be not refused sullenly; but mirth and good humour the more studiously
kept up, by the person; who would else indeed be looked upon as a spy on
unguarded folly! I heartily pitied a young man, who, I dare say, has a
good heart, but from false shame durst not assert the freedom that every
Englishman would claim a right to, in almost every other instance!
“For the human mind is seldom at stay: If you do not grow better, you will most undoubtedly grow worse.”
“As long as my property taxes are high, I have to raise rents or make adjustments.”
“The thing you dont get looking at brochures and stats is what the school is really like,”
You are all too rich to be happy, child. For must not each of you be the constitutions of your family marry to be still richer? People who know in what their main excellence consists are not to be blamed (are they?) for cultivating and improving what they think most valuable? Is true happiness any part of your family-view?—So far from it, that none of your family but yourself could be happy were they not rich. So let them fret on, grumble and grudge, and accumulate; and wondering what ails them that they have not happiness when they have riches, think the cause is want of more; and so go on heaping up till Death, as greedy an accumulator as themselves, gathers them into his garner!
How true is the observation that unrequited love turns to deepest hate.
I will be a Friend to you, and you shall take care of my Linen
O how can wicked men seem so steady and untouched with such black hearts, while poor innocents stand like malefactors before them!
...for my master, bad as I have thought him, is not half so bad as this woman.--To be sure she must be an atheist!
And what after all, is death?? Tis but a cessation from mortal life; tis but the finishing of an appointed course; the refreshing inn after a fatiguing journey; the end of a life of cares and troubles; and, if happy, the beginning of a life of immortal happiness.
Many a man has been ashamed of his wicked attempts, when he has been repulsed, that would never have been ashamed of them, had he succeeded.
Friendship is the perfection of love and superior to love it is love purified exalted proved by experience and a consent of minds. Love Madam may and love does often stop short of friendship.
From sixteen to twenty, all women, kept in humor by their hopes and by their attractions, appear to be good-natured.
Married people should not be quick to hear what is said by either when in ill humor.
Love will draw an elephant through a key-hole.
The plays and sports of children are as salutary to them as labor and work are to grown persons.
As a child is indulged or checked in its early follies, a ground is generally laid for the happiness or misery of the future man.
Women are so much in love with compliments that rather than want them, they will compliment one another, yet mean no more by it than the men do.
