my vanity), I thought I owed you the justice to lay before you all the hazards attending matrimony:  you may recollect I did so in the strongest manner.  Perhaps you may have more success in the instructing your daughter:  she has so much company at home, she will not need seeking it abroad, and will more readily take the notions you think fit to give her.  As you were alone in my family, it would have been thought a great cruelty to suffer you no companions of your own age, especially having so many near relations, and I do not wonder their opinions influenced yours.  I was not sorry to see you not determined on a single life, knowing it was not your father’s intention, and contented myself with endeavouring to make your home so easy that you might not be in haste to leave it.

I am afraid you will think this a very long and insignificant letter.  I hope the kindness of the design will excuse it, being willing to give you every proof in my power that I am,

Your most affectionate mother.

TO THE SAME

Fielding and other authors

Lovere, 22 Sept. [1755].

MY DEAR CHILD,

I received, two days ago, the box of books you were so kind to send; but I can scarce say whether my pleasure or disappointment was greatest.  I was much pleased to see before me a fund of amusement, but heartily vexed to find your letter consisting only of three lines and a half.  Why will you not employ Lady Mary as secretary, if it is troublesome to you to write?  I have told you over and over, you may at the same time oblige your mother and improve your daughter, both which I should think very agreeable to yourself.  You can never want something to say.  The history of your nursery, if you had no other subject to write on, would be very acceptable to me.  I am such a stranger to everything in England, I should be glad to hear more particulars relating to the families I am acquainted with:  if Miss Liddel marries the Lord Euston I knew, or his nephew, who has succeeded him; if Lord Berkeley has left children; and several trifles of that sort, that would be a satisfaction to my curiosity.  I am sorry for H. Fielding’s death, not only as I shall read no more of his writings, but I believe he lost more than others, as no man enjoyed life more than he did, though few had less reason to do so, the highest of his preferment being raking in the lowest sinks of vice and misery.  I should think it a nobler and less nauseous employment to be one of the staff officers that conduct the nocturnal weddings.  His happy constitution (even when he had, with great pains, half demolished it) made him forget everything when he was before a venison pasty, or over a flask of champagne; and I am persuaded he has known more happy moments than any prince upon earth.  His natural spirits gave him rapture with his cook-maid, and cheerfulness when he was starving in a garret.