“But once again:  I am guardian to five girls; agreed:  will this connection prejudice their bodies, souls, or purse?  My marriage may assist my health, but I suppose it will not injure theirs.  Will his company or companions corrupt their morals?  God forbid; if I did not believe him one of the best of our fellow beings, I would reject him instantly.  Can it injure their fortunes?  Could he impoverish (if he would) five women, to whom their father left 20,000l. each, independent almost of possibilities?—­To what then am I guardian? to their pride and prejudice? and is anything else affected by the alliance?  Now for more solid objections.  Is not the man of whom I desire protection, a foreigner? unskilled in the laws and language of our country?  Certainly.  Is he not, as the French say, Arbitre de mon sort? and from the hour he possesses my person and fortune, have I any power of decision how or where I may continue or end my life?  Is not the man, upon the continuance of whose affection my whole happiness depends, younger than myself[1], and is it wise to place one’s happiness on the continuance of any man’s affection?  Would it not be painful to owe his appearance of regard more to his honour than his love? and is not my person, already faded, likelier to fade sooner, than his?  On the other hand, is his life a good one? and would it not be lunacy even to risque the wretchedness of losing all situation in the world for the sake of living with a man one loves, and then to lose both companion and consolation?  When I lost Mr. Thrale, every one was officious to comfort and to soothe me; but which of my children or quondam friends would look with kindness upon Piozzi’s widow?  If I bring children by him, must they not be Catholics, and must not I live among people the ritual part of whose religion I disapprove?

“These are my objections, these my fears:  not those of being censured by the world, as it is called, a composition of vice and folly, though ’tis surely no good joke to be talked of

  “’By each affected she that tells my story,
  And blesses her good stars that she was prudent.’

“These objections would increase in strength, too, if my present state was a happy one, but it really is not.  I live a quiet life, but not a pleasant one.  My children govern without loving me; my servants devour and despise me; my friends caress and censure me; my money wastes in expences I do not enjoy, and my time in trifles I do not approve.  Every one is made insolent, and no one comfortable; my reputation unprotected, my heart unsatisfied, my health unsettled.  I will, however, resolve on nothing.  I will take a voyage to the Continent in spring, enlarge my knowledge and repose my purse.  Change of place may turn the course of these ideas, and external objects supply the room of internal felicity.  If he follow me, I may reject or receive at pleasure