The history of Lady Julia Mandeville | ||
To Henry Mandeville, Esq;
June 22d.
THE present member of parliament for being in a state of health which renders his life extremely uncertain, it would be very agreeable to me if my dear Mr. Mandeville would think of offering himself a candidate to succeed him. I will however be so plain as to tell him, he will have no assistance from me except my wishes, and has nothing to trust to but
I therefore always, though the whole town is mine, leave the people to their free and uninfluenced choice: never interfering farther than to insist on their keeping themselves as unbiassed as I leave them. I would not only withdraw my favor from, but prosecute, the man who was base enough to take a bribe, tho' he who offered it was my nearest friend.
By this means I have the pleasure also of keeping myself free, and at liberty to confer favours where I please; so that I secure my own independence by not invading that of others.
This conduct, I cannot help thinking, if general, would preserve the balance of our glorious constitution; a balance of much greater consequence to Britons than the balance of power in Europe, tho' so much less the object of their attention. In this we resemble those persons, who, whilst they are busied in regulating the domestic concerns of their neighbours, suffer their own to be ruined.
But to return from this unintended digression: You will perhaps object to what I have proposed, that, during your father's life, you are not qualified for a seat in Parliament. I have obviated this objection. Lady Mary, the only sister of my father,
I know too well the generous sentiments of your heart to doubt that, in procuring this settlement, I give to my country a firm and unshaken patriot, at once above dependance on the most virtuous court, and the mean vanity of opposing the just measures of his Prince, from a too eager desire of popularity: not that I would have you insensible to praise, or the esteem of your country; but seek it only by deserving it, and tho' it be in part the reward, let it not be the motive of your actions: let your own approbation be your first view, and that of others only your second.
You may observe, my dear Mr. Mandeville, I only caution you against being led
It is with caution I give even these general hints; far be it form me to attempt to influence your judgment: let your opinion be ever free and your own; or, where your inexperience may want information, seek it from the best, and most enlightened of mankind, your excellent father, who has long sat with honor in the same house.
Let me now, my amiable friend, thank you for your obliging attention, not only
Can Lady Mary do too much for a man who thus shews himself worthy the name of Mandeville, the characteristic of which has ever been the warmest benevolence?
Another would, perhaps, insist on returning the money to you, but I will not rob you of the pleasure of making an honest man happy: you will however observe, that it is this once only I indulge you; and that you are the only person from whom I have ever suffered my family, for such I esteem all placed by Providence under my protection, to receive an obligation: 'tis a favour I have refused even to your father.
Do not answer this: I shall possibly be with you before a letter could reach me.
Adieu. Your affectionate Belmont.
Can I, after this letter, my dear Mordaunt, entertain a wish for Lady Julia, without the blackest ingratitude? no, tho' I will not accept his generous offer, I can never forget he has made it. I will leave Belmont–I will forget her–What have I said? forget her? I must first lose all sense of my own being.
Am I born to know every species of misery? I have this moment received a second letter from the Lady I once mentioned to you, filled with the softest and most affecting expressions of disinterested tenderness: indiscreet from excess of affection, she adjures me to meet her one moment in the rustic temple, where she is waiting for me; her messenger is gone, and, as I will not hazard exposing her by sending my servant, I have no choice left but to go: Heaven knows how unwillingly! Should we be seen, what an appearance would such a meeting have! I left Lady Julia to write letters, and on that account excused myself from attending her: yet can I leave her, whom love alone has made imprudent, to the consequence of her indiscretion, and the wild sallies of a mind torn by disappointment and despair! I will go: but how shall I behold her! how tell her pity is all I can return to so generous a passion? These trials are too great for a heart like mine, tender, sympathetic,
H. Mandeville.
The history of Lady Julia Mandeville | ||