"Poor naked wretches, with houseless heads and unfed sides who protects them from cold, my dear friend?" "Who indeed!" replied she, with the glow of pity we have so often remarked, "who but that Being whose providential care is with many a subject of speculation, with some a doubt, and with multitudes neither remembered nor acknowledged."
Do you know I begin to suspect that Mrs. Allen has taken an unfair advantage of me; for seeing since the arrival of the Lisbon packet that my charity is enlarged to "good will to all men," she fancies it admits of no limitation, and that Miss Flint stands a chance of coming in for a share. She has therefore trepanned me into her room so often of late under some pretence or other, that my harp is nearly stationary in her apartment; and if I am to credit Mrs. Allen, it has something of the powers of David's, and from time to time lulls into temporary repose a spirit not less perturbed than poor Saul's. I am not yet an entire convert to Mrs. Allen's creed in favour of repenting sinners, although I can pity them. I cannot exactly think with her, that they deserve our peculiar commiseration and tenderness, still adhering to the maxim of, "as you sow, so must you reap." But I am becoming more placable, and more worthy of you; and I am going to read to Miss Flint an hour or two; for to tell you the truth, I do relent when I behold her writhing with pain. The total loss of the limb she hurt, would be nothing to the exquisite pain she suffers in the means used for its cure. Mary will think this a penalty sufficiently severe for the discipline she gave to her niece, and I may as well confess, that I am of the same opinion. Heaven bless you, and remember in your prayers your
Rachel Cowley.
CHAP XI.
LETTER XXVIII.
From Miss Cowley to Miss Hardcastle.
"Six mails due from Lisbon! and yet Rachel Cowley talks with contentment of the celestial weather!" To be sure she does, my dear Miss Hardcastle, and for the simplest reason on earth. If I be disappointed, Horace is not; and I can subsist upon his happiness, and be thankful. Besides, it is something in my favour to reflect, that the very elements can be obstinate as well as myself. You tell me, that it is begun to be suspected, that my rejection of my Jamaica pretender, with my refusal of Sir George's reiterated and generous offers, arise from some engagement of a tender kind between Horace and myself. Be so good as to inform the good people who so carefully qualify their words, that I am engaged, that I make no secret of my engagement, and that in defiance of Lady Coldstream's lecture to me at ten years old, I still love, passionately love, Horace Hardcastle, and almond biscuits. I remember perfectly the solemnity of her face when she observed that "young ladies were to love nothing passionately." It may therefore be as well to inform her, that I only love obstinately; if such it must be thought, to prefer that virtue which has rendered me virtuous. If to cherish an affection resulting from the best gifts of nature, and sanctioned by my reason and principles, be to be culpable, I am of all women most to be censured and condemned; for I glory in my shame, and rejoice at my defeat. But you will say, that even Horace Hardcastle must fall short of that elevation to which my fond imagination has raised him. You are deceived; I neither expect, nor even wish for absolute perfection in a husband. My eyes are human, too strong a light would but dazzle and confound them. But I love Horace even in his foibles; twelve years acquaintance with them have made them my own, as well as his virtues. But to be serious, tell me to whose influence was your dear mother indebted for a docility on my part which she did not even expect from the untamed rebel to all constraint. To whom am I indebted for patience, and forbearance now? What moral attainment, what acquired knowledge do I possess, that has not been encouraged by Horace's example? I never was, nor ever shall be, one of your sentimental misses who can at pleasure decorate any man with the trappings of a hero in romance. I think, if I can judge of myself, that I am ungentle by nature, and so fond of freedom, as to love but little the shackles which some so eagerly seek. I am confident however, that I have one ingredient necessary for perfect love: for I fear, and I always have feared Horace. How often has his reproving eye recalled me to obedience and submission! What has been the delight, when by my little exertions, and petty triumphs over my turbulent spirit, I have seen his face glowing with pleasure, and heard his joy expressed by his saying, "Rachel Cowley will be as gentle and amiable as my mother!" I am persuaded that Heaven has destined Horace Hardcastle to be my guide and my protector. I should faint and tire in the road of duty with a companion whose paths I had to chuse and point out. But with Horace Hardcastle I shall be safe, for he will neither loiter himself, nor permit me to relax in search of that virtue which leads to peace. I would rather live to feed monkeys and nurse cats and kittens, than to be the wife of a man no wiser than myself. Negative virtues will not satisfy me, I must be the wife of a man whose understanding and whose conduct will preserve active the emulation my mind requires. In a word, I must esteem, respect, and even fear a little the man, whom it will be my duty to obey. Now have the charity to point out to me a man better qualified to direct my mutinous spirit than your brother? You cannot. Be then perfectly indifferent to the nonsense you hear from empty heads and cold hearts. I leave such without malice to their opinions of happiness; if they be satisfied it is well. It is not my business to investigate the solidity of those principles from which their opinions originate; but whilst I feel that my own correspond with all that is worthy of a reasonable and responsible being, I will adhere to them, and laugh at the advice I know to be no better than folly in a grave dress. You will perceive I am not in one of my gentle moods. I should not have been so guarded, had I met my kind friend Lady V——. She is a simpleton. Her son behaved properly, and Rachel Cowley's rejection of his hand has neither lessened his merit, nor his consequence. Adieu my dear girl, and believe me always yours,
R. Cowley.