Weigh all these things, which I might insist upon to more advantage, did I think it needful to one of your prudence—­weigh them well, my beloved cousin; and if it be not the will of your parents that you should continue single, resolve to oblige them; and let it not be said that the powers of fancy shall (as in many others of your sex) be too hard for your duty and your prudence.  The less agreeable the man, the more obliging the compliance.  Remember, that he is a sober man—­a man who has reputation to lose, and whose reputation therefore is a security for his good behaviour to you.

You have an opportunity offered you to give the highest instance that can be given of filial duty.  Embrace it.  It is worthy of you.  It is expected from you; however, for your inclination-sake, we may be sorry that you are called upon to give it.  Let it be said that you have been able to lay an obligation upon your parents, (a proud word, my cousin!) which you could not do, were it not laid against your inclination!—­upon parents who have laid a thousand upon you:  who are set upon this point:  who will not give it up:  who have given up many points to you, even of this very nature:  and in their turn, for the sake of their own authority, as well as judgment, expect to be obliged.

I hope I shall soon, in person, congratulate you upon this your meritorious compliance.  To settle and give up my trusteeship is one of the principal motives of my leaving these parts.  I shall be glad to settle it to every one’s satisfaction; to yours particularly.

If on my arrival I find a happy union, as formerly, reign in a family so dear to me, it will be an unspeakable pleasure to me; and I shall perhaps so dispose my affairs, as to be near you for ever.

I have written a very long letter, and will add no more, than that I am, with the greatest respect, my dearest cousin,

Your most affectionate and faithful servant,
Wm. Morden.

***

I will suppose, my dear Miss Howe, that you have read my cousin’s letter.  It is now in vain to wish it had come sooner.  But if it had, I might perhaps have been so rash as to give Mr. Lovelace the fatal meeting, as I little thought of going away with him.

But I should hardly have given him the expectation of so doing, previous to the meeting, which made him come prepared; and the revocation of which he so artfully made ineffectual.

Persecuted as I was, and little expecting so much condescension, as my aunt, to my great mortification, has told me (and you confirm) I should have met with, it is, however, hard to say what I should or should not have done as to meeting him, had it come in time:  but this effect I verily believe it would have had—­to have made me insist with all my might on going over, out of all their ways, to the kind writer of the instructive letter, and on making a father (a protector, as well as a friend) of a kinsman, who is one of my trustees.  This, circumstanced as I was, would have been a natural, at least an unexceptionable protection!  —­But I was to be unhappy! and how it cuts me to the heart to think, that I can already subscribe to my cousin’s character of a libertine, so well drawn in the letter which I suppose you now to have read!