Chapter XXXIV: Letter XXXIII: To Miss L

Charles Street, Dec. 14, 1775.

THERE is something inexpressibly flattering in the notion of your being warmer--from the idea of your much obliged friend’s caring for you;--in truth we could not help caring about you--our thoughts travelled with you over-night from Bond Street to the Inn.--The next day at noon--“Well, now she’s above half way--alas! no, she will not get home till Saturday night--I wonder what companions she has met with--there is a magnetism in goodnature, which will ever attract its like--so if she meets with beings the least social--but that’s as chance wills!”--Well, night arrives--“And now our friend has reached the open arms of parental love--excess of delightful endearments gives place to tranquil enjoyments--and all are happy in the pleasure they give each other!”--Were I a Saint or a Bishop, and was to pass by your door, I would stop, and say, “Peace be upon this dwelling!”--and what richer should I leave it?--for I trust, where a good man dwells, there peace makes its sweet abode.--When you have read Bossuet, you will find at the end, that it was greatly wished the learned author had brought the work down lower--but I cannot help thinking he concluded his design as far as he originally meant.--Mrs. Sancho, thank Heaven, is as well as you left her, and your godson thrives;--he is the type of his father--fat--heavy--sleepy;--but as he is the head of the noble family, and your godson, I ought not to disparage him.----The Dutchess of K---- is so unwell, that she has petitioned for a longer day:--they say that her intellects are hurt;--though a bad woman, she is entitled to pity.--Conscience, the high chancellor of the human breast, whose small still voice speaks terror to the guilty--Conscience has pricked her;--and, with all her wealth and titles, she is an object of pity.--Health attend you and yours!--Pleasure of course will follow.--Mrs. Sancho joins me in all I say, and the girls look their assent.--I remain--God forgive me! I was going to conclude, without ever once thanking you for your goodness in letting us hear from you so early:--there is such a civil coldness in writing, a month perhaps after expectation has been snuffed out, that the very thought is enough to chill friendship;--but you--like your sister Charity, as Thomson sweetly paints her (smiling through tears)--delight in giving pleasure, and joy in doing good.--And now farewell--and believe us, in truth, our dear Miss L----’s

obliged and grateful friends,

+ANNE+ and +I. SANCHO+.