You may think what I am going to write too flighty:  but, by my faith, I have conceived such a profound reverence for her sense and judgment, that, far from thinking the man excusable who should treat her basely, I am ready to regret that such an angel of a woman should even marry.  She is in my eye all mind:  and were she to meet with a man all mind likewise, why should the charming qualities she is mistress of be endangered?  Why should such an angel be plunged so low as into the vulgar offices of a domestic life?  Were she mine, I should hardly wish to see her a mother, unless there were a kind of moral certainty, that minds like hers could be propagated.  For why, in short, should not the work of bodies be left to mere bodies?  I know, that you yourself have an opinion of her little less exalted.  Belton, Mowbray, Tourville, are all of my mind; are full of her praises; and swear, it would be a million of pities to ruin a woman in whose fall none but devils can rejoice.

What must that merit and excellence be which can extort this from us, freelivers, like yourself, and all of your just resentments against the rest of her family, and offered our assistance to execute your vengeance on them?  But we cannot think it reasonable that you should punish an innocent creature, who loves you so well, and who is your protection, and has suffered so much for you, for the faults of her relations.

And here let me put a serious question or two.  Thinkest thou, truly admirable as this lady is, that the end thou proposest to thyself, if obtained, is answerable to the means, to the trouble thou givest thyself, and to the perfidies, tricks, stratagems, and contrivances thou has already been guilty of, and still meditatest?  In every real excellence she surpasses all her sex.  But in the article thou seekest to subdue her for, a mere sensualist, a Partington, a Horton, a Martin, would make a sensualist a thousand times happier than she either will or can.

      Sweet are the joys that come with willingness.

And wouldst thou make her unhappy for her whole life, and thyself not happy for a single moment?

Hitherto, it is not too late; and that perhaps is as much as can be said, if thou meanest to preserve her esteem and good opinion, as well as person; for I think it is impossible she can get out of thy hands now she is in this accursed house.  O that damned hypocritical Sinclair, as thou callest her!  How was it possible she should behave so speciously as she did all the time the lady staid with us!—­Be honest, and marry; and be thankful that she will condescend to have thee.  If thou dost not, thou wilt be the worst of men; and wilt be condemned in this world and the next:  as I am sure thou oughtest, and shouldest too, wert thou to be judged by one, who never before was so much touched in a woman’s favour; and whom thou knowest to be

Thy partial friend,
J. Belford.