im my dislike of all men--of
him--of matrimony--still he persisted. I used him with tyranny--led,
indeed, partly by my temper, partly by design; hoping thereby to get rid
of him; till the poor man (his character unexceptionably uniform) still
persisting, made himself a merit with me by his patience. This brought
down my pride, [I never, Sir, was accounted very ungenerous, nor quite
ungrateful,] and gave me, at one time, an inferiority in my own opinion
to him; which lasted just long enough for my friends to prevail upon me
to promise him encouragement, and to receive his addresses.

Having done so, when the weather-glass of my pride got up again, I found
I had gone too far to recede. My mother and my friends both held me to
it. Yet I tried him, I vexed him, an hundred ways; and not so much
neither with design to vex him, as to make him hate me, and decline his
suit.

He bore this, however; and got nothing but my pity; yet still my mother,
and my friend, having obtained my promise, [made, however, not to him,
but to them,] and being well assured that I valued no man more than Mr.
Hickman, (who never once disobliged me in word, or deed, or look, except
by his foolish perseverance,) insisted upon the performance.

While my dear friend was in her unhappy uncertainty, I could not think of
marriage; and now, what encouragement have I?--She, my monitress, my
guide, my counsel, gone, for ever gone! by whose advice and instructions
I hoped to acquit myself tolerably in the state to which I could not
avoid entering. For, Sir, my mother is so partially Mr. Hickman's
friend, that I am sure, should any difference arise, she would always
censure me, and acquit him; even were he ungenerous enough to remember me
in his day.

This, Sir, being my situation, consider how difficult it is for me to
think of marriage. Whenever we approve, we can find an hundred good
reasons to justify our approbation. Whenever we dislike, we can find a
thousand to justify our dislike. Every thing in the latter case is an
impediment; every shadow a bugbear.--Thus can I enumerate and swell,
perhaps, only imaginary grievances; 'I must go whither he would have me
to go; visit whom he would have me to visit: well as I love to write,
(though now, alas! my grand inducement to write is over!) it must be to
whom he pleases:' and Mrs. Hickman (who, as Miss Howe, cannot do wrong)
would hardly ever be able to do right. Thus, the tables turned upon me,
I am