Mercy Otis Warren: Selected Letters

104. To a Very Young Lady, [Early 1800s?]

fuse. I do not suppose you interest yourself much, on the political themes that agitate our contemporaries. Yet no woman of only a common understanding , endowed with a due [??] of the benevolent affections, can avoid listening to subjects interesting indeed to the happiness of society, while she laments the bitterness of spirit that prevails & the little candour exercised between man & man. The united regards of Mr Warren, myself, and family, attend Mr Cary—are your family all about you yet?—give my love to Margeret— could you not spare her a week or two, & could she make herself happy so long with, Yr affecte friend, Mercy Warren Sunday 14th You will be afflicted to hear our friend Mrs Russell2 was attacked the night of the 12th Inst by a severe paralytic shock—she has not spoken & I fear she never will again. May we all find our smitten friends are angels sent from heaven, on errands full of love.3 cfp3, rc 1. mow suffered throughout her later adult life with crippling headaches and declining eyesight, including periods of temporary blindness. After this point, she relied almost exclusively on her son James, who moved back to Plymouth, to serve as her amanuensis. 2. The death of Elizabeth Russell of Plymouth, widow of Charles Russell, was reported in the Boston Columbian Centinel on March 3, 1802. 3. Following the postscript, letter reads, “Mrs Cary.” 104 to a very young lady [This is one of several letters to unidentified young women that mow wrote later in life. At some point, she realized that with three sons dead and the other two situated in life, her role as maternal figure was threatened. But it appears she found a number of surrogate daughters in young family members and children of to a very young lady, early 1800s?
251 friends. The only identifying mark in this letter is the name Betsey.] [Early 1800s?] My dear Miss Though our acquaintance is of a late date yet I think I may venture to salute you under the tender and endearing appellation of my amiable young friend; and were I longer to neglect a return to your agreeable letter, I fear notwithstanding the goodness of your heart you might suspect me not fond of cultivating those friendly movements of soul which dictated every period thereof. It was not necessary to collect a number of reasons by way of apology for gratifying me with a line[:] the easy expression, the just sentiment and striking observations therein contained indicate a mind actuated by the worthiest motives. In an age when virtue and friendship are scarcely to be found in any of the several periods of life, what a lesson is it to maturer years to behold it conspicuous in the bosom of youth!—I think the observation of the poet with regard to a friend “All like the purchase, few the price will pay”1 is quite as applicable to virtue;—we hold up the picture, admire the portrait, but when called upon to exhibit a copy what bubbles of fancy prevent the execution of the exalted purpose? It gives me the highest pleasure when I meet with a young person who promises an example of piety and benevolence to the degenerate manners of modern days. Your scrutinizing your own heart and inquiring into the spring of your own actions, has given me a hint to do the same, and to ask myself what it is prompts me to wish the continuance of our correspondence may be mutually agreeable;—on examination I find self-love, that ever lasting source of good and evil (in the opinion of some) lies at the bottom, for had I not lived long enough to see the instability of all human enjoyment, I should promise myself both pleasure and improvement from the intercourse begun between us. As youth and vivacity are seldom long pleased, and happy in company, where the disparity of years is considerable, I must own I have a higher opinion of myself when assured by my dear Betsey that she could be and was entirely satisfied for many successive days, when not only secluded from all other company but denyed even the appearance of the sun’s all cheering rays. 252
to a very young lady, early 1800s? But what is it that enlivens the social hour but a reciprocal esteem and a similarity of sentiment? And when that esteem is...