ed that to be the cause why she could not pres vail on herself to submit her letters to the publick eye; for although Mr. Sterne was par= tial to every thing of her's, she could not hope that the world would be so too. With this an= swer the editor was obliged to be contented. The reader will remark that these letters have various signatures; sometimes he signs Sterne, sometimes Yorick, and to one or two he signs her Bramin. Although it is pretty generally known who the Bramins are, yet lest any body should be at a loss, it may not be amiss to observe that the principal cast or tribe among the idolatrous Indians are the Bramins, and out of the chief class of this cast come the priests so famous for their austeri= ties, and the shocking torments, and frequent= ly death, they volontarily expose themselves to, on a religious account. Now, as Mr. Sterne was a clergyman, and Eliza an Indian by birth, it was customary with her to call him her Bra= min, which he accordingly, in his pleasant moods, uses as a signature. mons came all hot from the heart; I wish that could give them any title to be offered to yours; the others came from the head = I am more indifferent about their reception= I know not how it comes about, but I am half in love with you = I ought to be wholly so; for I never valued (or saw more good qualities to value) or thought more of one of your sex than of you = so adieu. Yours faithfully, if not affectionately, L. STERNE. LETTER II. I CANNOT rest, Eliza, though I shall call on you at half past twelve, till I know how you do = may thy dear face smile as thou risest, like the sun of this morning! I was much grieved to hear of your alarm ing indisposition yesterday, and disappointed too at not being let in = « Remember, my dear, that a friend has the same right as a physician. » = The étiquette of this town (you will say) says otherwise; no mat= ter, delicacy and propriety do not always consist in observing their frigid doctrines. I am going out to breakfast, but shall be at my lodgings by eleven, when I hope to read a single line under thy own hand, that thou art better, and wilt be glad to see I Nine o'clock. THY BRAMIN. LETTER III. GOT thy letter last night, Eliza, on my return from lord Bathurst's where I dined, and where I was heard (as I talked of thee an hour without intermission) with so much pleasure and attention, that the good old lord toasted your health three different times; and tho' he is now in his eighty-fifth year, says he hopes to live long enough to be introduced as a friend to my fair Indian disciple; and to see her eclipse all other Nabobesses, as much in wealth, as she already does in exterior, and (what is far better) in interior merit I hope so too. This nobleman is an old friend of mine. You know he was always the protector of men of wit and ge= nius, and had those of the last century, Addison, Steele, Pope, Swift, Prior, etc. always at his table. = The manner, in which his notice of me began, was as singular as it was polite : he came up to me one day, as I was at the princess of Wales's court = « I want « to know you, Mr. Sterne; but it is fit you should « also know who it is that wishes this pleasure. You <<< have heard, continued he, of an old lord Bathurst, * of whom your Pope's and Swift's have sung and « spoken so much; I had lived my life with geniuses « of that cast, but have survived them; and despair= «ing ever to find their equals, it is some years since << I have closed my accounts, and shrut up my books, <<< with thoughts of never opening' them again; but << you have kindled a desire in me of opening them « once more before I die, which I now do = so go home << and dine with me. >>> This nobleman, I say, is a prodigy; for at eighty= five he has all the wit and promptness of a man of thirty = a disposition to be pleased, and a power to please others, beyond whatever I knew; added to which, a man of learning, courtesy and feeling = He heard me talk of thee, Eliza, with uncommon sa= tisfaction; for there was only a third person, and of sensibility, with us = and a most sentimental after= noon, till nine o'clock, have we passed. But thou, Eliza, wast the star that conducted and enlightened the discourse! and when I talked not of thee, still didst thou fill my mind, and warm every thought I uttered! for I am not ashamed to acknowledge, I great= ly miss thee best of all good girls! the sufferings I have sustained all night on account of thine, Eliza, are beyond my power of words = assuredly does heaven give strength proportioned to the weight it lays upon us=thou hast been bowed down, my child, with every burden that sorrow of heart and pain of body could inflict on a poor being and still thou tellest me thou art beginning to get ease, thy fever gone = thy sickness, the pain in thy side, vanishing also = May every evil so vanish, that thwarts Eliza's happiness, or but awakens her fears for a moment! Fear nothing, my dear; hope every thing, and the balm of this passion will shed its influence on thy health, and make thee enjoy a spring of youth and cheerfulness, more than thou hast hardly yet tasted. And so thou hast fixed thy Bramin's portrait over thy writing desk, and will consult it in all doubts and difficulties? = Grateful and good girl! Yorick smiles contentedly over all thou dost; his picture does not do justice to his own complacency = Thy sweet little plan and distribution of thy time, how worthy of thee! Indeed, Eliza, thou leavest me nothing to direct thee in; thou leavest me nothing to require, nothing to ask, but a continuation of that conduct which won my esteem, and has made me thy friend for ever. May the roses come quick back to thy cheeks, and the rubies to thy lips! but trust my declaration, Eliza, that thy husband (if he is the good feeling man I wish him) will press thee to him with more honest warmth and affection, and kiss thy pale poor dejected face, with more transport than he would be able to do in the best bloom of all thy beauty and so he ought, or I pity him = he must have strange feelings, if he knows not the value of such a creature as thou art! I am glad miss Light goes with you, she may relieve you from many anxious moments. I am glad too, that your shipmates are friendly beings = you could least dispense with what is contrary to thy own nature, which is soft and gentle, Eliza; it would civilize savages; tho' pity were it, thou shouldest be tainted with the office = How canst thou make apologies for thy last letter! 'tis most delicious to me, for the very reasons you excuse it. Write to me, my child, only such; let them speak the easy carelessness of a heart that opens itself any how, and every how, to a man you ought to esteem and trust = Such, Eliza, I write to thee, and so I'should ever live with thee, most artlessly, |