LETTER X.
To Jane Talbot.
I have just heard something which has made me very
uneasy. I am afraid of seeming to you impertinent. You
have declared your resolution to persist in conduct which
my judgment disapproved. I have argued with you and
admonished you, hitherto, in vain, and you have (tacitly
indeed) rejected my interference; yet I cannot forbear offering
you my counsel once more.
To say truth, it is not so much with a view to change your
resolution, that I now write, as to be informed what your
resolution is. I have heard what I cannot believe, yet, considering
your former conduct, I have misgivings that I cannot
subdue. Strangely as you have acted of late I am wiling
to think you incapable of what is laid to your charge.
In few words, Jane, they tell me that you mean to be actually
married to Colden.
You know what I think of that young man. You know
my objections to the conduct you thought proper to pursue
in relation to Colden, in your husband's life-time. You will
judge then with what emotions such intelligence was received.
Indiscreet as you have been, there are, I hope, bounds
which your education will not permit you to pass. Some
regard, I hope, you will have for your own reputation. If
your conscience object not to this proceeding, the dread of
infamy, at least, will check your career.
You may think that I speak harshly, and that I ought to
wait, at least, till I knew your resolution, before I spoke of
it in such terms; but if this report be groundless, my censures
cannot affect you. If it be true, they may serve, I
hope, to deter you from persisting in your scheme.
What more can I say? You are my nearest relation; not
my daughter, it is true, but, since I have not any other
kindred, you are more than a daughter to me. That love,
which a numerous family or kindred would divide among
themselves, is all collected and centered in you. The ties
between us have long ceased to be artificial ones, and I
feel, in all respects, as if you actually owed your being to
me.
You have hitherto consulted my pleasure but little. I
have all the rights, in regard to you, of a mother, but these
have been hitherto despised or unacknowledged. I once
regarded you as the natural successor to my property, and
though your conduct has forfeited these claims, I now tell
you, and you know that my word is sacred, that all I have
shall be yours, on condition that Colden is dismissed.
More than this I will do. Every assurance possible I
will give, that all shall be yours at my death, and all I have,
I will share with you, equally, while I live. Only give me
your word that, as soon as the transfer is made, Colden
shall be thought of and conversed with, either personally
or by letter, no more. I want only your promise; on that
I will absolutely rely.
Mere lucre ought not, perhaps, to influence you, in such
a case, and if you comply, through regard to my peace, or
your own reputation, I shall certainly esteem you more highly
than if you are determined by the present offer, yet, such
is my aversion to this alliance, that the hour in which I hear
of your consent to the conditions which I now propose to
you, will be esteemed one of the happiest of my life.
Think of it, my dear Jane, my friend, my child, think
of it. Take time to reflect, and let me have a deliberate
answer, such as will remove the fears that at present afflict,
beyond my power of expression, your
