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MISS TALBOT TO MRS. CARTER.

Cuddesden, Oct. 20, 1742.

THERE was something so obliging, my dear Miss Carter, in the length of your Letter, that nothing but your making an excuse for it could have spoiled it. You may perhaps think my long silence as obliging on the other hand, and therefore being warned by your example I will make no excuse for it at all. It is true, that reading over your Letter again had like to have frightened me from answering it even now, for as it is impossible I should deserve half the fine things you say, the more you know of me, the sooner you will be undeceived: not that I disclaim any part of the commendation that belongs to honesty of heart, to gratitude, and to any mere common sense, good qualities that you are pleased to attribute to me, mais pour les astres, ma chêre demoiselle, pour la philosophie, ou pour le bel esprit vous savez je crois aussi bien que moi que je n'y ai nulle pretension. Ce monde que vous mepriscz tant a bien d'attachemens pour moi, et ce n'est pas a Messieurs les Stoïciens que je m'adresserai pour me tranquilliser quand je suis inquietće par les frivoles chagrins, comme assurément je le suis fort souvent. Pour l'amitié il n'y a point de

cœur

cœur qui en scait mieux le prix inestimable que le mien qui est particulierement heureux sur cet article là.

This puts me in mind of mentioning a book I am now deeply interested and engaged in, and which has pleased me most particularly, from the peculiarly agreeable light which friendship throws on many passages of it. To be sure you cannot be unacquainted with Lord Clarendon's admirable History of the Rebellion; if you are, you have some weeks very high entertainment to come, and which is much heightened by reading it in company. Whatever amusements riding, painting, and my own little shelf of books may afford to diversify the morning, I always wait for the evening with impatience, and then as entirely forget all relation to the modern world as if I had really lived a century ago. You will think I have my heart much set upon politics this year, when I tell you I have been studying Machiavel too: besides his writing such excellent Italian, there is a strength and spirit of good sense in his reflections upon Livy particularly, that I cannot help being pleased with, and therefore I am willing to persuade myself that he is branded with more infamy than he deserves; and I think I could find pretty strong passages to prove that he was far from meaning to recommend the villanies, which perhaps however it was too dangerous even

to

to mention. Dangerous indeed in such a mixture as mankind, where every passion is allowed to misinterpret things in its own way.

We shall stay here till almost Christmas, by that time perhaps I may not much dislike the thoughts of London, I am sure I shall like them much the better if I have any likelikood of seeing you there, being with more sincerity than your compliments deserve,

Your's, &c.

MRS. CARTER TO MISS TALBOT.

Deal, Jan. 1, 1743.

I CANNOT begin the new year in a more agreeable manner than by wishing it may convey every possible happiness to dear Miss Talbot, I cannot help mentioning one instance as it is so particularly affecting to myself: that you may very often feel a pleasure equal to what I receive from your Letters.

I must thank you for the perfectly agreeable entainment I have met in reading Joseph Andrews, as it was your recommendation that first tempted me to enquire after it. It contains such a sur

prizing

prizing variety of nature, wit, morality, and good sense, as is scarcely to be met with in any one composition, and there is such a spirit of benevolence runs through the whole, as I think renders it peculiarly charming. The author has touched some particular instances of inhumanity which can only be hit in this kind of writing, and I do not remember to have seen observed any where else; these certainly cannot be represented in too detestable a light, as they are so severely felt by the persons they affect, and looked upon in too careless a manner by the rest of the world.

It must surely be a marvellous wrongheadedness and perplexity of understanding that can make any one consider this complete satire as a very immoral thing, and of the most dangerous tendency, and yet I have met with some people who treat it in the most outrageous manner. Excepting Joseph Andrews and Ariosto, I have not read any thing time immemorial, as I have been greatly engaged in the important affair of working a pair of ruffles and handkerchief, to which I have attached myself more than would do me good, if luckily another species of trifling did not prevent the ill effects of this, and to the great surprize of all my acquaintance I did not take it into my head to grow very fond of dancing. It seems to be looked upon as a very odd thing that a person who thought of little

but

but books at fifteen, should at five and twenty run mad after balls and assemblies. However I am too inconstant in my follies to apprehend being long under the power of any one; the present 'tis probable will be of no very long duration, but soon give place to something new, and perhaps the next account of me may be that I am learning the Chinese language, or studying Duns Scotus and Thomas Aquinas, though I am apt to believe that will be one of the last kinds of profound trifling I am like to run into.

I ought to beg your pardon for all this egotism, but after the description I have given you of my employments, you will easily imagine I am at a loss for a subject: there is one indeed for which I would gladly quit my own dear self, and in all changes of temper could dwell upon with the utmost pleasure, but this you have been cruel enough to restrain me from mentioning to you.

I should be extremely obliged to you if you would let me know if there be any collection of Italian Letters, for I do not remember ever to have heard of any. I have some inclination to attempt at writing this language, which would be a difficult task without some such assistance, as I never learnt to speak it. I hope you will excuse this liberty, and believe me, &c.

MISS

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