29, Jul, 2010

Further Correspondence

There are stalling letters by which a young lady may fob off a suitor without rejecting him outright. One of them brings the complaint from the gentleman: 'There is something so peculiar and whimsical in your manner of expression that I am at a loss to determine whether you are serious or only writing for your own amusement.' A letter rejecting a suitor says: 'Let me beg that you will endeavour to eradicate a passion which, if nourished longer, may prove fatal to us both.' There is a letter from an orphaned young lady who writes to her suitor to say that, fatherless though she is, the disposal of her person is not within her power. 'According to the will of my father I can transact, nothing of any moment without the consent or approbation of Mr Friendly, of the Middle Temple.' If the suitor cares to apply through the proper channels, and survives screening, the lady 'without any mental reservation' will be 'very apt to encourage a passion which she imagines to be both honourable and sincere'. She evidently has high faith in the judgment of Mr Friendly.
Similar caution is shown by a widow in the country, when addressed by a young merchant in the city. 'Be assured, Madam,' he writes, 'that whatever time I can spare from the necessary duties of my profession shall be devoted to your company.' (This was the attitude so sharply castigated by the noblewoman in Andre le Chapelain's treatise.) The widow does not bridle at this approach; but she sends the letter to her brother, also an attorney in the Temple, with a request that he inquire into the character of the writer. The brother in due course submits a favourable report, with but one reservation- 'that is, that there is nothing more precarious than commerce, and the merchant who has unlimited credit today may be in the Gazette tomorrow'.
If a young lady is unable to persuade an unwelcome suitor to cease writing, she can perhaps prevail on a close friend to write a stiff letter on her behalf. The following is entitled 'From a Young Lady's Friend to a Disagreeable Suitor:

Being a sincere friend of Miss Taylor, to whom she has in confidence revealed her utter aversion to your intruding impudence and nonsensical jargon, I have undertaken in consequence of her request to insist that you will forbear further solicitations, as they are both contemptible and disgusting. Consummate ignorance can alone after this be guilty of a perseverance which may produce such fatal consequences as to provoke my friend to apply to some male relative for protection. I am, Sir, your humble servant.

Sometimes it happens that the young lady's father supports an unwelcome admirer. She may then require to write to the suitor as follows:

On subjects like these, where peace of mind and happiness are so much concerned, ceremony and compliments are both disgusting and unnecessary. You may remember when you was pleased to honour me with your addresses that I assured you it was out of my power to love you as a husband but that I would endeavour to esteem you as a friend; you have even now forfeited that esteem, by basely taking recourse to compulsion, and treacherously winning the consent of an infatuated father (who positively insists on my receiving your addresses, after my late peremptory rejection), thus endeavouring to enslave my mind under a dissembled esteem for my person: I therefore seize this opportunity of assuring you that your attempts are as fruitless as they are pitiful, and my heart being already engaged to a more worthy object I am determined to die before I sacrifice my hand!
Sure, sit, upon cool and deliberate reflection you must, notwithstanding the wishes of my father, despise the acceptance of a lifeless hand, and so far become the man of spirit, if possest of either honour or feeling, as to forget a woman who proves herself now so unworthy of your attention. I am, sir, your humble servant.

The 'more worthy object', who is a fellow of spirit and decision, now takes a hand:

My dear Anne, Apprised of your father's cruelty, and the baseness of your intended husband, I think in this case an elopement both praiseworthy and proper. You are at present exposed to insult and despotism, while methods base and cruel may be taken of blasting all our early hopes and rendering life forever miserable! Let me therefore prevail on you to put yourself under my care and protection-this night a coach shall be ready and I hope speedily to convey you from all apprehension of cruelty. You know my honour and sincerity: believe me I would not urge this proposal was I not alarmed for your safety. I am, dear Anne, your affectionate lover.

The lady, addressing her rescuer as 'Dear Sir', though signing herself 'Your distressed lover', replies that, though conscious of the impropriety of doping, she feels that in this situation it is 'somewhat excusable'. After the elopement, her first letter is to her father, chiding him for unkindness but expressing the hope that 'cool deliberation will remove all resentment'. She continues:

There being faults on both sides (perhaps mine are the greater, for despair had almost subdued my senses), we should mutually forget the past and endeavour to make each other happy. . . . Oh then, dear sir, permit me once more to enter your house, kneel at your feet and humbly sue for pardon; while my future conduct shall convince how much I am, Your dutiful daughter.

' The father's reply is all that could be desired:

My dear child, in blaming you I must blame myself; my faults far exceed yours, which I shall endeavour to atone for by giving (as far as I am able) a handsome allowance to your husband for the support of you both. Come home immediately; but do not let us recall the past as I am now determined to prove myself, Your Affectionate Father.