Trite, stale, and poor!—­Thou art a silly fellow, and no judge, when thou sayest this.  Had I not, like a blockhead, revealed to thee, as I went along, the secret purposes of my heart, but had kept all in till the event had explained my mysteries, I would have defied thee to have been able, any more than the lady, to have guessed at what was to befall her, till it had actually come to pass.  Nor doubt I, in this case, that, instead of presuming to reflect upon her for credulity, as loving me to her misfortune, and for hoping against probability, thou wouldest have been readier, by far, to censure her for nicety and over-scrupulousness.  And, let me tell thee, that had she loved me a I wished her to love me, she could not possibly have been so very apprehensive of my designs, nor so ready to be influenced by Miss Howe’s precautions, as she has always been, although my general character made not for me with her.

But, in thy opinion, I suffer for that simplicity in my contrivances, which is their principal excellence.  No machinery make I necessary.  No unnatural flights aim I at.  All pure nature, taking advantage of nature, as nature tends; and so simple my devices, that when they are known, thou, even thou, imaginest thou couldest have thought of the same.  And indeed thou seemest to own, that the slight thou puttest upon them is owing to my letting thee into them before-hand—­undistingushing as well as ungrateful as thou art!

Yet, after all, I would not have thee think that I do not know my weak places.  I have formerly told thee, that it is difficult for the ablest general to say what he will do, or what he can do, when he is obliged to regulate his motions by those of a watchful enemy.* If thou givest due weight to this consideration, thou wilt not wonder that I should make many marches and countermarches, some of which may appear, to a slight observer, unnecessary.

* See Vol.  III.  Letter XXXIX.

But let me cursorily enter into debate with thee on this subject, now I am within sight of my journey’s end.

Abundance of impertinent things thou tellest me in this letter; some of which thou hadst from myself; others that I knew before.

All that thou sayest in this charming creature’s praise is short of what I have said and written on the inexhaustible subject.

Her virtue, her resistance, which are her merits, are my stimulatives. have I not told thee so twenty times over?

Devil, as these girls between them call me, what of devil am I, but in my contrivances?  I am not more a devil than others in the end I aim at; for when I have carried my point, it is still but one seduction.  And I have perhaps been spared the guilt of many seductions in the time.

What of uncommon would there be in this case, but for her watchfulness!—­As well as I love intrigue and stratagem, dost think that I had not rather have gained my end with less trouble and less guilt?