But, indeed.  Madam, I have the pleasure of discovering every day more and more, that there is not a better disposed and more generous man in the world than himself, for I verily think he has not been so careful to conceal his bad actions as his good ones.  His heart is naturally beneficent, and his beneficence is the gift of God for the most excellent purposes, as I have often freely told him.  Pardon me, my dear lady; I wish I may not be impertinently grave:  but I find a great many instances of his considerate charity, which few knew of, and which, since I have been his almoner, could not avoid coming to my knowledge.  But this, possibly, is no news to your ladyship.  Every body knows the generous goodness of your own heart:  every one wanting relief tasted the bounty of your excellent mother my late honoured lady:  so that ’tis a family grace, and I have no need to speak of it to you.  Madam.

This cannot, I hope, be construed as if I would hereby suppose ourselves less obliged.  I know nothing so godlike in human nature as this disposition to do good to our fellow-creatures:  for is it not following immediately the example of that generous Providence which every minute is conferring blessings upon us all, and by giving power to the rich, makes them but the dispensers of its benefits to those that want them?  Yet, as there are but too many objects of compassion, and as the most beneficent cannot, like Omnipotence, do good to all, how much are they obliged who are distinguished from others!-And this being kept in mind, will always contribute to make the benefited receive, as thankfully as they ought, the favours of the obliger.

I know not if I write to be understood, in all I mean; but my grateful heart is so over-filled when on this subject, that methinks I want to say a great deal more at the same time that I am apprehensive I say too much.  Yet, perhaps, the copies of the letters I here inclose (that marked [I.] written by me to my parents, on our return to Kent; that marked [II.] from my dear father in answer to it; and that marked [III.] mine in reply to his) will (at the same time that they may convince your ladyship that I will conceal nothing from you in the course of this correspondence, which may in the least amuse and divert you, or better explain our grateful sentiments), in a great measure, answer what your ladyship expects from me, as to the happy fortnight we passed in Kent.

I will now conclude, choosing to suspend the correspondence, till I know from your ladyship, whether it will not be too low, too idle for your attention; whether you will not dispense with your own commands when you see I am so little likely to answer what you may possibly expect from me:  or whether, if you insist upon my scribbling, you would have me write in any other way, be less tedious, less serious-in short, less or more any thing.  For all that is in my power, your ladyship may command from, Madam, your obliged and faithful servant.