Your declaration to Miss **** is more general than my opinions allow.  I think an unlimited promise of acting by the opinion of another so wrong, that nothing, or hardly anything, can make it right.  All unnecessary vows are folly, because they suppose a prescience of the future which has not been given us.  They are, I think, a crime, because they resign that life to chance which God has given us to be regulated by reason; and superinduce a kind of fatality, from which it is the great privilege of our nature to be free.  Unlimited obedience is due only to the universal father of heaven and earth.  My parents may be mad and foolish; may be wicked and malicious; may be erroneously religious, or absurdly scrupulous.  I am not bound to compliance with mandates, either positive or negative, which either religion condemns, or reason rejects.  There wanders about the world a wild notion, which extends over marriage more than over any other transaction.  If Miss **** followed a trade, would it be said, that she was bound, in conscience, to give or refuse credit at her father’s choice?  And is not marriage a thing in which she is more interested, and has, therefore, more right of choice?  When I may suffer for my own crimes, when I may be sued for my own debts, I may judge, by parity of reason, for my own happiness.  The parent’s moral right can arise only from his kindness, and his civil right only from his money.

Conscience cannot dictate obedience to the wicked, or compliance with the foolish; and of interest mere prudence is the judge.

If the daughter is bound without a promise, she promises nothing; and if she is not bound, she promises too much.

What is meant by tying up money in trade I do not understand No money is so little tied, as that which is employed in trade.  Mr. ****, perhaps, only means, that in consideration of money to be advanced, he will oblige his son to be a trader.  This is reasonable enough.  Upon ten thousand pounds, diligently occupied, they may live in great plenty and splendour, without the mischiefs of idleness.

I can write a long letter, as well as my mistress; and shall be glad that my long letters may be as welcome as hers.

My nights are grown again very uneasy and troublesome.  I know not that the country will mend them; but I hope your company will mend my days.  Though I cannot now expect much attention, and would not wish for more than can be spared from the poor dear lady, yet I shall see you and hear you every now and then; and to see and hear you, is always to hear wit, and to see virtue.

I shall I hope, see you to-morrow, and a little on the two next days; and with that little I must, for the present, try to be contented.  I am, &c.

XVI.—­To MRS. THRALE.

August 12, 1773.

DEAR MADAM,—­We left London on Friday, the 6th, not very early, and travelled, without any memorable accident, through a country which I had seen before.  In the evening I was not well, and was forced to stop at Stilton, one stage short of Stamford, where we intended to have lodged.