The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless

by Eliza Fowler Haywood

He then proceeded to a short discussion of the difference between a lawful and an unlawful communication between the sexes; he expatiated on the wife and laudable institution of marriage; the solid comforts arising from that state, in the choice of a worthy partner; the many advantages of an honourable alliance; the serene and lasting pleasures to be found in the society of a faithful, discreet, and endearing companion. 'A wife,' said he, with a sigh, which the memory of his own hard fate drew from him, 'may sometimes be bad, but a mistress we are sure is never good; her very character denies all confidence to be reposed in her; it is the interest of a wife to secure the honour of her husband, because she must suffer in his disgrace; a mistress, having no reputation of her own, regards not that of her keeper. It is the interest of a wife to be frugal of her husband's substance, because she must be a sharer in those misfortunes which the want of economy creates; but is the interest of a mistress to sell her favours as dear as she can, and to make the best provision she can for herself, because her subsistence is precarious, and depends wholly on the will of him who supports her. These, my dear friend,' continued he, 'are truths, which I hope you will not wait for experience to convince you of.'

It is probable Mr. Thoughtless did not relish this admonition; he seemed, however, to take it in good part, and returned for answer, that he should ever retain the most grateful sense of the kind concern he expressed for him; and added, that whatever inconveniences he might have been hurried into, by an inadvertent passion, he should always take care not to become the dupe of any woman.

Mr. Goodman then fell into some discourse concerning the younger Mr. Thoughtless; and the elder telling him, that, by his interest, he procured a comission for him on very easy terms, that worthy old gentleman appeared very much pleased, and said, he hoped they would always live together in that perfect amity which both good policy and nature demands between persons of the same blood.

'And now,' continued he, 'I have but one more thing to recommend to you, and that is in relation to your sister Miss Betsy: I doubt not of her innocence, but I fear her conduct; her youth, her beauty, the gaiety of her temper, and the little vanities of her sex, are every day exposing her to temptations fatal to reputation; I wish, therefore, she were well married; I know not how the courtship of Mr. Trueworth happened to be broke off; perhaps on some trifling occasion either on the one or the other side: if so, it is likely Mr. Francis, when he comes to town, may bring about a reconciliation. According to my judgment of mankind, she cannot make a more deserving choice. There is another gentleman, who now makes his addresses to her, whose name is Munden; but I know nothing of his character; he never applied to me, nor did she consult me on the affair; it will, however, be a brother's part in you to enquire how far he may be worthy of her.'

Perceiving Mr. Thoughtless listened to him with a good deal of attention, he went on; 'I should also think it right,' said he, 'that while she remains in a single state, she should be boarded in some social, reputable family; I do not like this living by herself, her humour is too volatile to endure solitude; she must have her amusements; and the want of them at home naturally carries her in search of them abroad: I could wish,' he added, 'that you would tell her what I have said to you on this subject; she is convinced I am her friend, I believe has some regard for me, and, it may be, my dying admonitions will have greater effect upon her than all she has heard from me before.'

Mr. Goodman, after this, beginning to grow extremely faint, and altogether unable to hold any farther discourse, the brother of Miss Betsy judged it convenient to retire; assuring the other, as he took his leave, that no part of what he had said should be lost upon him.

Though the promise he had made Mr. Goodman was chiefly dictated by his complaisance, yet it was not wholly forgot after he had left him. As to what that worthy gentleman had said, in relation to his own manner of living, he thought he had talked well, but he had talked like an old man, and that it was time enough for him to part with his pleasures when he had no longer any inclination to pursue them; but what had been alledged to him, concerning his sister's conduct, made a much deeper impression on his mind: he considered, that the honour of a family depended greatly on the female part of it, and therefore resolved to omit nothing in his power to prevent Miss Betsy from being caught by any snares that might be laid to entrap her innocence.

He communicated to Mr. Francis Thoughtless, on his arrival, all that Mr. Goodman had said to him on this score, and his own sentiments upon it: that young gentleman was entirely of his brother's opinion in this point; and they both agreed, that marriage was the only sure refuge for a young woman of Miss Betsy's disposition and humour. They had a long and pretty serious conversation on this head, the result of which was, that they should go together to her, and each exert all the influence he had over her, in order to draw from her some farther eclaircissement of her intentions than could yet be gathered from her behaviour.

Miss Betsy, who little suspected their designs, received them with all the tenderness that could be expected from a sister, especially her brother Frank; whose return, after so long an absence, gave her in reality an entire satisfaction: but she had scarce time to give him all the welcomes with which her heart overflowed, before the elder Mr. Thoughtless fell on the topick of Mr. Goodman, and the misfortune they sustained in the loss of so good a friend; after which, 'He has left you a legacy, sister,' said he. 'A legacy!' cried she, 'pray, of what kind?'—'Such a one,' replied he, 'as perhaps you will not be very well pleased in receiving; nor would I chuse to deliver it, but for two reasons: first, that the injunctions of a dying friend are not to be dispensed with; and, secondly, that it is of a nature, I fear, you stand in too much need of.'