How poor are all such attachments! How much beneath the
exalted notion I have of that noblest, that most delicate union of souls!
You wonder at me, Dr. Bartlett. Let me repeat to you, sir, (I have it by
heart,) Sir Charles Grandison's tender of friendship to the poor Harriet
Byron, which has given me such exalted ideas of this disinterested
passion; but you must not take notice that I have. I repeated those
words, beginning, 'My heart demands alliance with hers'--and ending with
these--'So long as it shall be consistent with her other attachments.'*
* See page 110 of this Volume.
The doctor was silent for a few moments. At last, What a delicacy is
there in the mind of this excellent man! Yet how consistent with the
exactest truth! The friendship he offers you, madam, is indeed
friendship. What you have repeated can want no explanation: yet it is
expressive of his uncertain situation. It is--
He stopt of a sudden.
Pray, doctor, proceed: I love to hear you talk.
My good young lady!--I may say too much. Sir Charles in these nice
points must be left to himself. It is impossible for any body to express
his thoughts as he can express them. But let me say, that he justly, as
well as greatly, admires Miss Byron.
My heart rose against myself. Bold Harriet, thought I, how darest thou
thus urge a good man to say more than he has a mind to say of the secrets
of a friend, which are committed to his keeping? Content thyself with
the hopes, that the worthiest man in the world would wish to call thee
his, were it not for an invincible obstacle.
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