“I am very sorry if the poor man is really what you think, unhappy; if his case is uneasy I am sure it is desperate; complaint I hope, is more the language, than misery the condition, of lovers. To speak ingenuously you men use us oddly enough, you adore the pride, flatter the vanity, gratify the ill-nature, and obey the tyranny that insults you; then slight the love, despise the affection, and enslave the obedience that would make you happy: when frowning mistresses all are awful goddesses, when submissive wives, despicable mortals. There are two excellent lines which have made me ever deaf to the voice of the charmer, charm’d he ever so sweetly—
“‘The humblest Lover when he lowest lies,
Submits to conquer, and but kneels to rise.’
“Flattery has ever been the ladder to power, and I have detested its inverted effects of worshipping one into slavery, while it has pretended to adore one to Deification. If ever I commit my happiness to the hands of any person, it must be one whose indulgence I can trust, for flattery I cannot believe. I am sure I have faults, and am convinced a husband will find them, but wish he may forgive them; but vanity is apt to seek the admirer, rather than the friend, not considering that the passion of love may, but the effect of esteem can never, degenerate to dislike. I do not mean to exclude Love, but I mean to guard against the fondness that arises from personal advantages.... I have known many men see all the cardinal virtues in a good complexion, and every ornament of a character in a pair of fine eyes, and they have married these perfections, which might perhaps shine and bloom a twelvemonth, and then alas! it appeared these fine characters were only written in white and red.
“A long and intimate acquaintance is the best presage of future agreement. I have strengthened this argument to myself by the example of you and Mrs. Freind. I hope in my long and tedious dissertation I have said nothing disrespectful of Love. As for your particular inducement to it I cannot tell whether it was beauty or good qualities, they being united in her in a degree of perfection not to be excelled.”
After wishing the rejected lover “Riches and alliance to help his laudable ambition,” she concludes with, “I wish the same advantages for myself, with one of established fortune and character, so established, that one piece of generosity should not hurt his fortune, nor one act of indiscretion prejudice his character.”
SIR GEORGE LYTTELTON
Who this particular individual was is not now known, but that Elizabeth was the cynosure of all eyes from her wit, beauty, and vivacity is shown by her brothers’ letters of this period, which constantly allude to her troop of admirers. Mr. Lyttelton, now Sir George Lyttelton, the only single man whom she had ever mentioned with uniform admiration, married this year, on June 15, Lucy, daughter of Hugh Fortescue, Esq., of Filleigh, Devonshire, a marriage of the purest affection on both sides.
In a letter at the end of 1741 she states that her father’s steward in Yorkshire had been guilty of peccadilloes, and that she was to accompany her parents to Yorkshire in early spring, where her father promised her attendance at the York races, in lieu of the Canterbury ones, which then appeared to her a poor substitute. Whilst in Yorkshire she either met for the first time, or more probably renewed her acquaintance with, Mr. Edward Montagu, her future husband, of whom some account must now be given.
MR. EDWARD MONTAGU