Yet do I give you my sincere thanks for every line of your reprehensive
letters; which I intend to read as often as I find my temper rises.

I will freely own, however, that I winced a little at first reading
them. But I see that, on every re-perusal, I shall love and honour you
still more, if possible, than before.

Yet, I think I have one advantage over you; and which I will hold
through this letter, and through all my future letters; that is, that
I will treat you as freely as you treat me; and yet will never think an
apology necessary to you for my freedom.

But that you so think with respect to me is the effect of your
gentleness of temper, with a little sketch of implied reflection on the
warmth of mine. Gentleness in a woman you hold to be no fault: nor do I
a little due or provoked warmth--But what is this, but praising on both
sides what what neither of us can help, nor perhaps wish to help? You
can no more go out of your road, than I can go out of mine. It would be
a pain to either to do so: What then is it in either's approving of her
own natural bias, but making a virtue of necessity?

But one observation I will add, that were your character, and my
character, to be truly drawn, mine would be allowed to be the most
natural. Shades and lights are equally necessary in a fine picture.
Yours would be surrounded with such a flood of brightness, with such a
glory, that it would indeed dazzle; but leave one heartless to imitate
it.

O may you not suffer from a base world for your gentleness; while my
temper, by its warmth, keeping all imposition at a distance, though
less amiable in general, affords me not reason, as I have mentioned
heretofore, to wish to make an exchange with you!

I should indeed be inexcusable to open my lips by way of contradiction
to my mother, had I such a fine spirit as yours to deal with. Truth is
truth, my dear! Why should narrowness run away with the praises due to a
noble expansion of heart? If every body would speak out, as I do, (that
is to say, give praise where only praise is due; dispraise where due
likewise,) shame, if not principle, would mend the world--nay, shame
would introduce principle in a generation or two. Very true, my dear. Do
you apply. I dare not.--For I fear you, almost as much as I love you.

I will give you an instance, nevertheless, which will a-new demonstrate,
that none but very generous and noble-minded people ought to be
implicitly obeyed. You know wh