'I can write my whole mind to you, though I cannot, 'from the most deplorable infelicity, receive from you the wished-for favour of a few lines in return, written with the same unreservedness: So unhappy am I, from the 'effects of an inconsideration and weakness on one hand, ' and temptations on the other, which you, at a tenderer age, most nobly, for your own honour, and that of your sex, have escaped: whilst I-but let my tears in these blots speak the rest-as my heart bleeds, and has constantly bled ever since, at the grievous remembrance'But believe me, however, dear madam, that 'tis shame and sorrow, and not pride and impenitence, that make me 'loath to speak out, to so much purity of life and manners, my own odious weakness. 6 'Nevertheless I ought, and I will accuse myself by name. Imagine then, illustrious lady, truly illustrious, for virtues. ' which are infinitely superior to all the advantages of birth ' and fortune-Imagine, I say, that in this letter you see 'before you the once guilty, and therefore, I doubt, always 'guilty, but ever penitent, Sarah Godfrey; the unhappy, though fond and tender mother of the poor infant, to 'whom your generous goodness, as I am informed, has ' extended itself in such a manner, as to make you desirous of taking her under your worthy protection. God for ever bless you for it! prays an indulgent mother, who admires, at an awful distance, that virtue in you, which she could 'not practise herself. 'And will you, my dearest lady, will you take under 'your own immediate protection the poor unguilty infant? 'Will you love her, for the sake of her suffering mamma, 'whom you know not; for the sake of the gentleman now 'so dear to you, and so worthy of you, as I hear with pleasure he is? And will you, by the best example in the world, give me a moral assurance, that she will never sink 'into the fault, the weakness, the crime (I ought not to scruple to call it so), of her poor inconsiderate-But you ' are her mamma now: I will not think of a guilty one 'therefore. And what a joy is it to me, in the midst of my heavy reflections on my past misconduct, that my beloved 'Sally can boast a virtuous and innocent mamma, who has 'withstood the snares and temptations that have been so 'fatal-elsewhere-and whose example and instructions, 'next to God's grace, will be the strongest fences that can be wished for, to her honour -Once more, I say, and on my knees I write it! God for ever bless you here, and augment your joys hereafter, for your generous goodness 'to my poor, and till now, motherless infant. 'I hope the dear child, by her duty and obligingness, 'will do all in her little power to make you amends, and 'never give you cause to repent of this your unexampled 'kindness to her and to me. She cannot, I hope (except 'her mother's crime has had an influence upon her, too 'much like that of an original stain), be of a sordid, or an ungrateful nature. And, oh my poor Sally! if you are, and if ever you fail in your duty to your new mamma, to whose care and authority I transfer my whole right in 'you, remember that you have no more a mamma in me, nor can you be entitled to my blessing, or to the fruits of my prayers for you, which I make now, on that only condition, your implicit obedience to all your new mamma's commands and directions. 6 6 6 'You may have the curiosity, madam, to wish to know 'how I live for no doubt you have heard of all my sad, 'sad story!-Know then, that I am as happy as a poor creature can be, who has once so deplorably, so inexcusably fallen. I have a worthy gentleman for my husband, 'who married me as a widow, whose only child, by my former, was the care of her papa's friends, particularly 'of good Lady Davers, and her brother.-Poor unhappy 'I to be under such a sad necessity to disguise the truth! '-Mr. Wrightson (whose name I am unworthily honoured by) has several times earnestly entreated me to send for 'the poor child, and to let her be joined as his killing thought that it cannot be with two children I have 'by him!-Judge, my good lady, how that very generosity, ' which, had I been guiltless, would have added to my joys, 'must wound me deeper than even ungenerous or unkind usage from him could do! And how heavy that crime 'must lie upon me, which turns my very pleasures to 'misery, and fixes all the joy I can know in repentance for my past misdeeds!-How happy are You, madam, 'on the contrary; you, who have nothing of this sort 'to pall, nothing to mingle with, your felicities! who, 'blessed in an honour untainted, and a conscience that cannot reproach you, are enabled to enjoy every well'deserved comfort, as it offers itself; and can improve it 'too, by reflections on your past conduct! While mine, 'alas! like a winter frost, nips in the bud every rising ' satisfaction! 'My husband is rich as well as generous, and very ' tender of me-Happy if I could think myself as deserving as he thinks me !—My principal comfort, as I hinted, is in my penitence for my past faults; and that I have a 'merciful God for my judge, who knows that penitence to 'be sincere! 'You may guess, madam, from what I have said, in what light I must appear here; and if you would favour me with a line or two, in answer to the letter you have now in your hand, it will be one of the greatest pleasures 'I can receive: A pleasure next to that which I have ' received in knowing, that the gentleman you love best has had the grace to repent of all his evils; has early 'seen his errors; and has thereby, I hope, freed two persons 'from being, one day, mutual accusers of each other: For now I please myself to think, that the crimes of both may 'be washed away in the blood of that Saviour God, whom 'both have so grievously offended! 'May that good God, who has not suffered me to be abandoned entirely to my own shame, as I deserved, con'tinue to shower down upon you those blessings which a 'virtue like yours may expect from His mercy! May you long be happy in the possession of all you wish! And late, ' very late (For the good of thousands I wish this!) may you receive the reward of your piety, your generosity, and your filial, your social, and conjugal virtues! are the 6 prayers of 'Your most unworthy admirer, 'And obliged humble servant, 'Mr. Wrightson begs your acceptance of a small pre'sent, part of which can have no value, but what its excelling qualities, for what it is, will give it at so 'great a distance as that dear England which I once 'left with so much shame and regret; but with a 'laudable purpose, however, because I would not incur 'still greater shame, and, of consequence, give cause 'for still greater regret!' To this letter, my dear Lady Davers, I have written the following answer, which Mr. B—— will take care to have conveyed to her. 'DEAREST MADAM,-I embrace with great pleasure the opportunity you have so kindly given me, of writing to a 'lady whose person though I have not the honour to know, yet whose character and noble qualities I truly revere. 'I am infinitely obliged to you, madam, for the precious trust you have reposed in me, and the right you make 6 over to me, of your maternal interest in a child on whom 'I set my heart the moment I saw her. 'Lady Davers, whose love and tenderness for miss, as 'well for her mamma's sake as your late worthy spouse's, had, from her kind opinion of me, consented to grant me this favour; and I was, by Mr. B's leave, in actual 'possession of my pretty ward about a week before your 'kind letter came to my hands. 'As I had been long very solicitous for this favour, 'judge how welcome your kind concurrence was to me; ' and the rather, as, had I known that a letter from you was on the way to me, I should have apprehended that you would have insisted upon depriving the surviving 'friends of her dear papa, of the pleasure they take in the ' dear child. Indeed, madam, I believe we should one and 'all have joined to disobey you, had that been the case;. ' and it is a great satisfaction to us, that we are not under 'so hard a necessity as to dispute with a tender mamma 'the possession of her own child. 'Assure yourself, dearest, worthiest, kindest madam, of a care and tenderness in me to the dear child, truly maternal, and answerable, as much as in my power, to the trust you repose in me. The little boy that God has 'given me, shall not be more dear to me than my sweet 'Miss Goodwin shall be; and my care, by God's grace, 'shall extend to her future as well as to her present pro'spects, that she may be worthy of that piety, and truly religious excellence, which I admire in your character. 'We all rejoice, dear madam, in the account you give ' of your present happiness. It was impossible that God Almighty should desert a lady so exemplarily deserving ; 'and He certainly conducted you in your resolutions to abandon everything that you loved in England, after the 'loss of your dear spouse, because it seems to have been 'the intention of His providence, that you should reward 'the merit of Mr. Wrightson, and meet with your own ' reward in so doing. 'Miss is very fond of my little Billy: She is a charming 'child is easy and genteel in her shape; and very pretty; 'she dances finely; has a sweet air; and is improving every day in music; works with her needle, and reads. 'admirably for her years, and takes a delight in both; 'which gives me no small pleasure. But she is not very 'forward in her penmanship, as you will see by what 'follows: The enditing too is her own: but in that, and 'the writing, she took a good deal of time, on a separate 'paper.' 'DEAREST DEAR MAMMA,-Your Sally is full of joy, to have any commands from her honoured mamma. VOL. III. S I |