A gentleman of the Temple, Mr. Turner by name, and Mr. Fanshow of Gray’s Inn, both lawyers, and of Mr. B.’s former acquaintance, very sprightly and modish gentlemen, have also welcomed us to town, and made Mr. B. abundance of gay compliments on my account to my face, all in the common frothy run.
They may be polite gentlemen, but I can’t say I over-much like them. There is something so opiniated, so seemingly insensible of rebuke, either from within or without, and yet not promising to avoid deserving one occasionally, that I could as lieve wish Mr. B. and they would not renew their former acquaintance.
I am very bold your ladyship will say—But you command me to write freely: yet I would not be thought to be uneasy, with regard to your dear brother’s morals, from these gentlemen; for, oh, Madam, I am a blessed creature, and am hourly happier and happier in the confidence I have as to that particular: but I imagine they will force themselves upon him, more than he may wish, or would permit, were the acquaintance now to begin; for they are not of his turn of mind, as it seems to me; being, by a sentence or two that dropt from them, very free, and very frothy in their conversation; and by their laughing at what they say themselves, taking that for wit which will not stand the test, if I may be allowed to say so.
But they have heard, no doubt, what a person Mr. B.’s goodness to me has lifted into notice; and they think themselves warranted to say any thing before his country girl.
He was pleased to ask me, when they were gone, how I liked his two lawyers? And said, they were persons of family and fortune.
“I am glad of it, Sir,” said I; “for their own sakes.”
“Then you don’t approve of them, Pamela?”
“They are your friends, Sir; and I cannot have any dislike to them.”
“They say good things sometimes,” returned he.
“I don’t doubt it, Sir; but you say good things always.”
“’Tis happy for me, my dear, you think so. But tell me, what you think of ’em?”
“I shall be better able, Sir, to answer your questions, if I see them a second time.”
“But we form notions of persons at first sight, sometimes, my dear; and you are seldom mistaken in yours.”
“I only think. Sir, that they have neither of them any diffidence: but their profession, perhaps, may set them above that.”
“They don’t practise, my dear; their fortunes enable them to live without it; and they are too studious of their pleasures, to give themselves any trouble they are not obliged to take.”
“They seem to me. Sir, qualified for practice: they would make great figures at the bar, I fancy.”
“Only, because they seem prepared to think well of what they say themselves; and lightly of what other people say, or may think, of them.”