Certainly this multiplying of amusements, cal culated by an appearance of cheapness to draw the lower kind of people into a frequent expence, and a constant dissipation of mind, must in the end prove of ruinous consequences. After all there is no fear that people will not take care to divert themselves quite enough, and, as Mr. Locke says of children, be more pleased and in better humour when they are left to invent their own diversions, than they can be with the richest playthings that are provided for them at an extravagant expence.

I want much to know whether you have yet condescended to read Joseph Andrews, as I am well assured the character of Mr. Adams is drawn from one in real life: if the book strikes you as it did me, you will certainly come up to town next winter, that you and I may join in contriving some means of getting acquainted with him. I have known you throw away your contrivance upon people not half as well worth it; but I will heartily join in all Petrarch's benedictions of the year, the day, the place of error and partiality themselves, since it is to them I owe every opportunity of subscribing myself, &c.

MRS.

MRS. CARTER TO MISS TALBOT.

Deal, Aug. 4, 1742.

I owe you a thousand thanks, my dear Miss Talbot, for a Letter that gave me inexpressible pleasure by a confirmation of your perfect recovery. I had some time before the happiness of hearing you was out of danger, but I really stood in need of a testimony under your own hand, after I had so fully prepossessed myself with a notion that you could not be designed to continue long in a world which affords so little capable of entertaining a mind like your's. I had considered you as a stella nova, who was only to pay a transient visit just to raise our admiration and delight, and then to vanish to be the ornament of some happier system, and shine in more unclouded skies; but these I now hope were only the melancholy apprehensions with which people are so apt to terrify their imaginations on every appearance of danger in which they feel themselves strongly concerned, and my fears are at present tolerably well dissipated by your recovery.

I do not know whether I should compliment you on an occasion which must give so much joy to a great part of the world besides, as its probable

VOL. I.

C

you

you might be extremely willing to resign that superior figure you make among mortals for a more equal rank in a society of angels; but you must give me leave to congratulate all who have the happiness to know you, among whom none can feel a more sincere and affecting delight than myself, or wish with a greater earnestness that Providence may extend to the greatest possible length a life so truly valuable.

Nothing could be a more seasonable revival to my spirits than your Letter, for at the time I received it, was sadly depressed at parting from Miss with whom I had spent four or five delightful months at , a place I never yet. could quit with any tolerable degree of resignation. It will be perfect charity in you, my dear Miss Talbot, to furnish me with some salutary philosophical remedies in this exigence, for my own little stock is quite exhausted. Peut être qu'il n'y a pas d'autre moyen de se tranquilliser qu'en se contentant d'une bienveillance generale, et. degagant le cœur autant qu'il se peut des attachemens particu→ liers. C'est ce qui oteroit infailliblement la moitié des douleurs de la vie; mais le malheur est qu'en même tems on se priveroit de ses plus vifs et plus: doux plaisirs, et j'aimerois mieux être quelques fois assez miserable que de me trouver avec cette fade et ennuyeuse indifference que Messieurs les Stoiciens appellent

5

appellent egalité d'ame. I believe you will laugh at this strange medley, but I have for some time so used myself to it in conversation that it is become quite natural to me, and out of the two languages I have formed a third, which I am afraid you will find to be no language at all.

While I was at Canterbury I had often the pleasure of talking of you with the Dean*, who never mentions you but with the justest admiration: it gives me great delight to converse with any one who has seen you, and next to this, with those who wish to see you if they could; which is the case with two young ladies who envy me an advantage they have endeavoured after in vain, and their disappointment is so much the greater, as they are persons whose fine accomplishments would give them the quickest sense of such a happiness as they pursued. It is impossible you should know one half of the schemes with which people puzzle their inventions about you, and this plot in particular I believe you have never discovered; as our projects have been attended with a very different success, willingly resign to these ladies the honor of having been beforehand with me in the attempt.

I

I have not yet seen Joseph Andrews, but shall be very impatient till I do, as I am so strongly pre

judiced in favor of it by your recommendation; I intend to look over the two last volumes of Pamela, which I have yet had no sort of inclination to, but I am just told there are some pretty criticisms on the Distressed Mother, a play which notwithstanding its general applause, I never could bring myself to like, but I have some curiosity to see what so accurate a judge as Pamela can say about it. As many objections however as I have to this tragedy in itself, I was extremely delighted last winter at Canterbury, by seeing Hermione and Orestes played by a very young gentleman and lady with a greater force and propriety of fiction than I ever saw on any stage, and it would really have been surprizing in people who make it their profession.

I have just bethought myself that this is the most unmerciful Letter that ever was written, and that I can never with any tolerable modesty hope for the happiness of hearing from you again, unless I check my inhuman inclination of filling my paper by subscribing myself, &c.