Thomas Beddoes to Maria Thompson, [?1802/3] (3)
My dear _____
I was sorry on opening the parcel brought by Miss W. to find nothing but the book. Your letter has made me a great deal more sorry still. You describe your want of power to overcome your difficulty with so much force and feeling, that one would think it impossible you should not have the energy to overcome it, oppressive as I am very sensible that it is. I am sure it is impossible, my dear, that a young female that has so much to recommend her at first sight, and so much more on better acquaintance, should, time enough, fail to be noticed by some person whose notice is worth having. And I am also sure you will then be sorry you gave that time to present misery, which would have rendered you more capable of enjoying future happiness, and more certain of its continuance. Here, I see a number of young women destitute of your advantages, working in the face of difficulties, much less indeed than those you labour under, but still discouraging. Could you act up to your conviction, you would equal them at least in their highest excellencies; and you will feel the keenest mortification, if, on coming hereafter into their society, you feel an inferiority which your conscience will tell you, was simply such as you sunk yourself to. – I used to tell the young men at Oxford, that I was sure they would be at a great loss for mistresses and wives; as the young women their equals would be so superior to them, that they would not be able to find any not above their own level. This improvement has gone on working in secret, but its effects must appear. And from the public changes of Europe, another tone in ten years time, perhaps, in five, must take place in society.
I assure you, if you were to write, you would soon do it with relish for the employment. About the time I was obliged to begin these essays on health, I felt low and averse to the task I had imposed on myself. I thought I could not execute it at all. It had this striking difficulty; – that every body else has failed. I went to work doggedly and dissatisfiedly. I wrote a few lines, then took up a book, and, with a strong sense of guilt, put off my labour till next day. However by some imperceptible change, I am come to like it excessively, and look forward with delight to the hour when I am to return to it. So would you, who want such a refuge.
P. S. I hope the sight of this ungenteel paper will not shock you out of your inclination to write to me. I promise you, if you will encourage me by saying you have satisfied yourself for one fortnight, I will write you a golden letter on gilded paper.
Published: Stock, pp. 285–86