Your cure, in four words, is
CUT—OFF—YOUR—HAIR!
LETTER III.
TO MR. M——.
Sept. 17, 1768.
I AM uneasy about your health—I do not like your silence—let some good body or other give me a line, just to say how you are.—I will, if I can, see you on Sunday;—it is a folly to like people, and call them friends, except they are blest with health and riches.—A very miserable undone poor wretch, who has no portion in this world’s goods but honesty and good temper, has a child to maintain, and is very near in a state of nature in the article of covering, has applied to me.—I do know something of her—no greater crime than poverty and nakedness.—Now, my dear M——, I know you have a persuasive eloquence among the women—try your oratorical powers.—You have many women—and I am sure there must be a great deal of charity amongst them—Mind, we ask no money—only rags—mere literal rags.—Patience is a ragged virtue—therefore strip the girls, dear M——, strip them of what they can spare—a few superfluous worn-out garments—but leave them pity—benevolence—the charities—goodness of heart—love—and the blessings of yours truly with affection, or something very like it,
I SANCHO.
LETTER IV.
TO MR. M——.
Sept. 20, 1768.
OH! my M——, what a feast! to a mind fashioned as thine is to gentle deeds!—Could’st thou have beheld the woe-worn object of thy charitable care receive the noble donation of thy blest house!—the lip quivering, and the tongue refusing its office, thro’ joyful surprize—the heart gratefully throbbing—overswelled with thankful sensations—I could behold a field of battle, and survey the devastations of the Devil, without a tear—but a heart o’ercharged with gratitude, or a deed begotten by sacred pity—as thine of this day—would melt me, although unused to the melting mood. As to thy noble, truly noble, Miss ——, I say nothing—she serves a Master—who can and will reward her as ample—as her worth exceeds the common nonsensical dolls of the age;—but for thy compeers, may they never taste any thing less in this world—than the satisfaction resulting from heaven-born Charity! and in the next, may they and you receive that blest greeting—“Well done, thou good and faithful,” &c. &c. Tell your girls that I will kiss them twice in the same place—troth, a poor reward;—but more than that—I will respect them in my heart, amidst the casual foibles of worldly prejudice and common usage.—I shall look to their charitable hearts, and that shall spread a crown of glory over every transient defect.—— The poor woman brings this in her hand;—she means to thank you—your noble L——, your good girls—her benefactors—her saviours. I too would thank—but that I know the opportunity I have afforded you of doing what you best love, makes you the obliged party—the obliger,
Your faithful friend,