“Earl Chatham, May 2nd, 1767.
(Off Santiago.)
“... From the vilest spot of earth I ever saw, and inhabited by the ugliest of Beings—I greet my beloved cousin—St Jago the place—a charming passage to it—fair winds and fine weather all the way. Health, too, my friend, is once more returned to her enthusiastic votary. I am all Life, air, and spirits—who’d have thought it—considering me in the light of an Exile. And how do you, my Sclater?—and how sat the thoughts of my departure on your Eyes? and how the reality of it? I want you to answer me a thousand questions, yet hope not for an answer to them for many, many months. I am.... Did you receive a letter I wrote you from the Downs, with a copy of one enclosed from Sterne to me with his sermons and ‘Shandy’? I sent such to you, notwithstanding the Bagatelle airs I give myself—my heart heaves with sighs, and my eyes betray its agitating emotions, every time I think of England and my valuable connections there—ah, my Sclater, I almost wish I had not re-visited that charming country, or that it had been my fate to have resided in it for ever, but in the first instance the Lord’s will be done, mine I hope may be accomplished in the second.”
MRS DRAPER TO THOMAS MATHEW SCLATER
“Earl Chatham, November 29th, 1767.
(Off the Malabar Coast.)
“They all tell me I’m so improved—nothing—I say to what I was in England—nobody can contradict the assertion—and if it adds to my consequence, you know—it is good policy. Always self to be the subject of your pen (you say) Eliza—why not, my dear cousin? Why have I not as good a right to tell you of my perfections as Montaigne had to divulge to the World he loved white wine better than red? with several other Whims, Capricios, bodily complaints, infirmities of temper, &c., &c.—of the old Gascoignes, not but I love his essays better than most modern ones—and think those that have branded him with the name of Egotist—deserve to be Debar’d the pleasure of speaking of—or looking at themselves—how is it we love to laugh, and yet we do not often approve the person who feeds that voracious passion? Human nature this! vile rogue!—’tis a bad picture—however there’s a great resemblance.... Once a year is tax enough on a tender Conscience, to sit down premeditatedly to write fibs—and let it not enter your imagination that you are to correspond with me in such terms as your heart dictates. No, my dear Sclater—such a conduct though perfectly innocent (and to me worth all the studied periods of Labour’d Eloquence) would be offensive to my Husband—whose humour I now am resolved to study—and if possible conform to if the most punctilious attention—can render me necessary to his happiness ... be so—Honour—prudence—and the interest of my beloved children ... and the necessary Sacrifice—and I will make it. Opposing his will will not do—let me now try, if the conforming to it, in every particular will better my condition—it is my wish, Sclater—it is my ambition (indeed it is)—to be more distinguished as a good wife than as the agreeable woman I am in your partial Eyes even—’tis true I have vanity enough to think I have understanding sufficient
to give laws to my Family, but as that cannot be, and Providence for wise purposes constituted the male the Head—I will endeavour to act an underpart with grace. ‘Where much is given, much is required.’ I will think of this proverb and learn humility.”
Laurence Sterne
MRS DRAPER TO HER AUNT, MRS PICKERING
“Bombay, High Meadow, March 21st, 1768.
“I found my Husband in possession of health, and a good post. Providence will, I hope, continue to him the blessing of the one and the Directors at home, that of the other. My agreeable sister is now a widow, and so much improved in mind and person, as to be a very interesting object. May she be so far conscious of her own worth as to avoid throwing herself away a second time.”