142 
commands; if it is, he commits a known 
wilful deliberate sin. No man_of sense 
does deliberately what he knows he 
shall be damned for. ’Tis want of-a firm 
faith that makes all violent griefes, im- 
patient desires, &c. This world would not 
have half the value in people’s thoughts, 
if they was fully perswaded of another ; 
nor would any sensible body he per- 
plexed with them cares that we see 
they are. Here are my. thoughts in 
few words. I have been at least. very 
sincere, if I have not been very right. 
LETTER Iv. 
I cannot, imagine what to make of 
your long silence. You have so often 
said you never could forget me, I can 
hardly think that possible. If you were 
sick, sure I should hear of it. Are you 
so unjust to believe I have not writ ? 
And am I punished for the faults of the 
post? Perhaps yours may have the 
same fate. I know not how to write a 
letter that I am not sure will be received. 
There is a destiny in every thing, and 
some people are born to be unhappy. I 
had writ thus far when I received yours, 
and it has reconciled me to my fortune. 
I ought not to complain, while you are 
well and continue me your friendship. 
I will justify myself from your accusa- 
tions, dvhich I take, as they are meant, 
as proofes of a real friendship.) I will not 
deny.appearances are something against 
me; but my case is like nobody’s: I 
know no younger sister has the circum- 
stances of mine. Was she Lady Mary 
Schomberge, perhaps, I should use her 
better than Lady Mary is used. Iam very 
far (too far) from ill-nature—softnesse 
vanquishes me immediately ; but my sis- 
ter is uot altogether that, as she is bred, 
*tis amongst a companny of people that 
Original Poetry. 
(Sept. 1, 
are perpetually representing to her the 
advantages she has over me, Her pride 
makes her apt to take every thing for 
an affront, and her folly to tell people she 
is atfronted; which is very ridiculous, 
both in regard to herselfe and me: no- 
body thinks the better of her for hearing 
I think her, a fool, or of me for telling 
her so. I would not insinuate she is 
naturally . proud ;_ had. her. education 
been different, she would not have so 
much valued the» external goods of for- 
tune:as'to think they added anything to 
merrit.:| I should infinitely please my 
aunt and hér, would I show that I 
thought so too, and was so humble to 
reverence her 15,000]. as something 
very much above me. While things are 
thus, I never intend to make. my court 
to her: she shall never. say I made ad- 
vances to gain her freindship, because it 
might possibly be of some advantage of 
me. Perhaps. you. may» blame. these 
sentiments; nay, perhaps you have rea- 
son; and ’tis pride which gives me false 
notions of generosity: To me there 
seems alwaies something mean in endea- 
vouring to please with a view of inte- 
rest; this is my way of acting with every 
creature that I think fancys I ought to 
pay a respect to their fortune or autho- 
rity over me. -Love.may make me a 
slave. 
the first for pardon, and kneel to be for- 
given where I love; but never will pay 
a homage where I see it is expected, to 
gratify the pride of another. I know 
my S: E. ‘secretly flatters herselfe she 
shall be a great lady while I. remain in 
statu quo: if it ever happens, I shall be 
prouder to her than I am....On the con- 
trary, if it be possible fortune should 
ever change to my side, I willshow I love 
my sister, but I despise her pride. 
¢ 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
TO POETRY. 
DPE SS A PO Bie 
Thou yet shalt know how sweet, how dear, 
To gaze on list’ning Beauty’s eye; 
To wait and pause, in bope and feer, 
*Till she reply,” 
Montgomery. 
AIL! lovely Poesy, supremely fair, 
Whose form bespeaks thine , origin 
divine ; ae 
Thanks to kind Heaven, that in mercy bid 
Thy feet to visit these abodes of men ;— 
Bid thee, with light celestial, chase away 
The gloom that mis’ry hangs o’er- mortal 
things ; = 
To soften down the rugged path of life, © 
And bid the lonely traveller, with joy, 
Pursue his toilsome way. ‘ 
How often have I listen’d to thy song, 
And lost in sweet oblivion my anxious cares! 
Oft, as I’ve trod the rough and toilsome road 
Of Science, have thy notes mellifiuous, — . 
On gentle zephyrs borne, struck ommy ear, 
Inspir’dmy soul, and strengthen’dfor the toil. 
Come then,my Muse,and stayawhilewith me; 
Or, rather, lead me to thy solitudes;- 
Far from the haunts of men: for Iam tir’d 
Of all that earth calls good ;—-my soul. has 
gaz’d . 
Til 
I can beg for a reconcilement, : 
