Elizabeth Eliza

“ Those who have known her tenderness for me, the confidence she had bestowed upon me, will they not say to me, She is no more, and yet thou livest.
Eliza intended to quit her country, her relations, her friends, to take up her residence along with me, and spend her days in the midst of mine. What happiness had I not promised to myself? What joy did I not expect, from seeing her sought after by men of genius; and beloved by women of the nicest taste? I said to myself, Eliza is young, and thou art near thy latter end. It is she who will close thine eyes. ”

“ But trust my declaration, Eliza, that thy husband (if he is the good, feeling man I wish him) will press thee to him with more honest warmth and affection, and kiss thy pale, poor, dejected face, with more transport, than he would be able to do, in the best bloom of all thy beauty;—and so he ought, or I pity him. He must have strange feelings, if he knows not the value of such a creature as thou art! ”

“ Eliza.
[Burns.—Tune, "Gilderoy."—The heroine of this song, some say, was Elizabeth Miller, one of the "Mauchline Belles;" others avow that she was Elizabeth Black, afterwards Mrs. Stewart, a vintner in Alva; while John Gait is of opinion that the real lady was a relative of his own, named Elizabeth Barbour.]
From thee, Eliza, I must go,
⁠And from my native shore;
The cruel fates between us throw
⁠A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans, roaring wide
⁠Between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
⁠My heart and soul from thee. ”

“ And Spenser’s verse prolongs Eliza’s reign.”
But by the lexicographer’s day, the poorer [Pg 116] classes had ceased to recognize that Eliza and Betty were parts of one single name. They took up each on her own account, as a separate name, and thus Betty and Eliza were commonly met with in the same household. This is still frequently seen. The Spectator, the other day, furnished a list of our commonest font names, wherein Elizabeth is placed fourth, with 4610 representatives in every 100,000 of the population. Looking lower down, we find “Eliza” ranked in the twenty-first place with 1507. ”

“ Fortunate Sterne, thou art no more, and I am left behind. I wept over thee with Eliza; thou wouldst weep over her with me; and had it been the will of Heaven, that you had both survived me, your tears would have fallen together upon my grave.
The men were used to say, that no woman had so many graces as Eliza: the women said so too. They all praised her candour; they all extolled her sensibility; they were all ambitious of the honour of her acquaintance. The stings of envy were never pointed against unconscious merit. ”

“ During the anti-Spanish alliance between England and France, Edward VI. was sponsor to a child of Henri II., who received the Tudor name of Elisabeth, but could not become the wife of Philip II., without turning into Isabel; indeed, the Italian Elisabetta Farnese—a determined personage—was the only lady who seems to have avoided this transformation.
Poetry did not improve our Queen Elizabeth by making her into Eliza, a form which, however, became so prevalent in England during the early part of the present century, that Eliza and Elizabeth are sometimes to be found in the same family. ”

“ Baby—‘Itta one’ pitty name.”
Eliza would not let herself become discouraged. “Little One” and “Baby” were pet names given by some adoring fathers and mothers. Perhaps the child had seldom heard her correct name. Guided by the letters on the pins, Eliza repeated every name beginning with E; but it was without results.
“You must be called something,” she at last cried in desperation. “It must begin with E too. Elizabeth will do as well an anything else. It’s dignified enough for her when she’s grown up, and Beth or Bess will be well enough for a child. I’ve just got to call her something.” ”

“ Thou hast bewitch’d me with powers, my dear Girl, from which no power shall unlose me—and if fate can put this Journel of my Love into thy hands, before we meet, I know with what warmth it will inflame the kindest of hearts, to receive me. peace be with thee, my Eliza, till that happy moment! ”

“ Eliza. "Mr. Baring never would own it. No man ever does."
Baring. "I beg your pardon, Miss Shaw. I was mistaken—I own it—about you at first."
Eliza. "Really? For better or for worse? I am curious to know."
Hatty. "Come, that is not fair, Elizabeth. I advise you, Alaric, not to answer that."
Baring. "Oh, I have no objection to answer Miss Shaw frankly. Observation, like certain drugs, is cumulative. First impressions are not observation, though they may be strengthened by it. ”

“ Tell me how you are; and what sort of fortitude Heaven inspires you with. How are you accommodated, my dear? Is all right? Scribble away, any thing, and every thing to me. Depend upon seeing me at Deal, with the James’s, should you be detained there by contrary winds.—Indeed, Eliza, I should with pleasure fly to you, could I be the means of rendering you any 29service, or doing you kindness. Gracious and merciful God! consider the anguish of a poor girl.—Strengthen and preserve her in all the shocks her frame must be exposed to. She is now without a protector, but thee! ”

“ That fickle deity that hovers o’er the globe, is Fame, who condescended to entertain us a moment about you; she brought me thy works, and paved the way for our connection [liaison] by esteem. Behold that phœnix immortal amidst the flames: it is the symbol of Genius, which never dies. Let these emblems perpetually incite thee to shew thyself the defender of HUMANITY, of TRUTH, and of LIBERTY.”
Eliza, from the highest Heaven, thy first and last country, receive my oath: I swear not to write one line in which thy friend may not be recognised. ”

“ All those names, eminent as they were, shall give place to thine, Eliza. Tell me, in answer to this, that you approve and honour the proposal, and that you would (like the Spectator’s mistress) have more joy in putting on an old man’s slipper, than associating with the gay, the voluptuous, and the young.—Adieu, my Simplicia! ”

“ Farewell, farewell, Eliza; whilst I live, count upon me as the most warm and disinterested of earthly friends.
Yorick.
28 LETTER VI. MY DEAREST ELIZA!
I Began a new journal this morning; you shall see it; for if I live not till your return to England, I will leave it you as a legacy. ’Tis a sorrowful page; but I will write cheerful ones; and could I write letters to thee, they should be cheerful ones too: but few, I fear, will reach thee! However, depend upon receiving something of the kind by every post; till then, thou wavest thy hand, and bid’st me write no more. ”

“ O Eliza! Eliza! ever best & blessed of all thy Sex! blessed in thyself and in thy Virtues—& blessed and endearing to all who know thee—to Me, Eliza, most so; because I know more of thee than any other—This is the true philtre by which Thou hast charm’d me & wilt for ever charm & hold me thine, whilst Virtue & faith hold this world together;’tis the simple Magic, by which I trust, I have won a place in that heart of thine on wch. I depend so satisfied, That Time & distance, or change of every thing wch. ”

“ Let them speak the easy carelessness of a heart that opens itself, any how, and every how, to a man you ought to esteem and trust. Such, Eliza, I write to thee,—and so I should ever live with thee, most artlessly, most affectionately, if Providence permitted thy residence in the same section of the globe ”

“ Undone with too much Society yesterday,—You scarse can Conceive my dear Eliza what a poor Soul I am—how I shall be got down to Cox only heaven knows—for I am as weak as a Child—You would not like me the worse for it, Eliza, if you was here—My friends like me, the more,—& Swear I shew more true fortitude & eveness of temper in my Suffering than Seneca, or Socrates—I am, my Bramin, [26] resigned.
16. Taken up all day with worldly matters, just as my Eliza was the week before her departure.—breakfasted with Lady Spencer—caught her with the character of yr. ”

“ Wats who sails this day for Bombay—inclosed her likewise the Journal kept from the day we parted, to this—so from hence continue it till the time we meet again—Eliza does the same, so we shall have mutual testimonies to deliver hereafter to each other, That the Sun has not more constantly rose & set upon the earth, than we have thought of & remember’d, what is more chearing than Light itself—eternal Sunshine! Eliza!—dark to me is all this world without thee! & most heavily will every hour pass over my head, till that is come wch. brings thee, dear Woman back to Albion. ”

“ I have been all day making a sweet Pavilion in a retired Corner of my garden,—but my Partner & Companion & friend for whom I make it, is fled from me, & when she return to me again, Heaven who first brought us together, best knows—when that hour is foreknown what a Paradise will I plant for thee—till then I walk as Adam did whilst there was no help-meet found for it, and could almost wish a days Sleep would come upon me till that Moment When I can say as he did—“Behold the Woman Thou has given me for Wife.” She shall be call’d La Bramine. Indeed Indeed Eliza! ”

“ MRS. DRAPER, the Lady who has been so celebrated as the Correspondent of Mr. Sterne under the name of Eliza, will naturally attract the notice of the Public. That she was deserving of the encomiums bestowed upon her by that admirable writer will appear from the following eulogium written by the excellent Abbé Raynal, which I transmit to you for publication in your next Magazine.
I am, yours, &c.
A. T. 282Territory of Anjengo, thou art nothing; but thou hast given birth to Eliza. A day will come, when these staples of commerce, founded by the Europeans on the coasts of Asia, will exist no more. ”

“ Something is wrong, Eliza! in every part of me—I do not gain strength; nor have I the feelings of health returning back to me; even my best moments seem merely the efforts of my mind to get well again, because I cannot reconcile myself to the thoughts of never seeing thee Eliza more.—for something is out of tune in every Chord of me—still with thee to nurse & sooth me, I should soon do well—The want of thee is half my distemper—but not the whole of it—I must see Mrs. ”

“ Bought Orm’s account of India—why? Let not my Bramine ask me—her heart will tell her why I do this, & every Thing—
Ap: 19—poor sick-headed, sick hearted Yorick! Eliza has made a shadow of thee—I am absolutely good for nothing, as every mortal is who can think & talk but upon one thing!—how I shall rally my powers alarms me; for Eliza thou has melted them all into one—the power of loving thee & with such ardent affection as triumphs over all other feelings—was with our faithful friend all the morning; & dined with her & James—What is the Cause, that I can never talk abt. ”

“ I keep a post chaise & a couple of fine horses, & take the Air every day in it—I go out—& return to my Cottage Eliza! alone—’tis melancholly, what shd. be matter of enjoyment; & the more so for that reason—I have a thousand things to remark & say as I roll along—but I want you to say them to—I could some times be wise—& often Witty—but I feel it a reproach to be the latter whilst Eliza is so far from hearing me—& what is Wisdom to a foolish weak heart like mine! Tis like the Song of Melody to a broken Spirit—You must teach me fortitude my dear Bramine—for with all the tender qualities wch. ”

“ Taking Leave of all the Town, before my departure to morrow.
21. detaind by Lord & Lady Spencer who had made a party to dine & sup on my Acct. Impatient to set out for my Solitude—there the Mind, Eliza! gains strength, & learns to lean upon herself—and seeks refuge in its own Constancy & Virtue—in the world it seeks or accepts of a few treacherous supports—the feign’d Compassion of one—the flattery of a second—the Civilities of a third—the friendship of a fourth—they all deceive—& bring the Mind back to where mine is retreating—that is Eliza! ”

“ I now give for it—tho’ I know there are circumstances 114in it, That will make my heart bleed & waste within me—but if all blows over—’tis enough—we will not recount our Sorrows, but to shed tears of Joy over them—O Eliza! Eliza! Heaven nor any Being it created, never so possessed a Man’s heart—as thou possessest mine—use it kindly—Hussy—that is, eternally be true to it. ”

“ I am to remit her three hundred guineas a year—& give my dear Girl two thousand pds.—wth. wch. all 152Joy, I agree to,—but ’tis to be sunk into an annuity in the french Loans—
—And now Eliza! Let me talk to thee—But What can I say, What can I write—But the Yearnings of heart wasted with looking & wishing for thy Return—Return—Return! my dear Eliza! May heaven smooth the Way for thee to send thee safely to us, & joy for Ever. ”

“ I honour you, Eliza, for keeping secret some things, which if explained, had been a panegyric on yourself. There is a dignity in venerable affliction which will not allow it to appeal to the world for pity or redress. Well have you supported that character, my amiable, philosophic friend! And, indeed, I begin to think you have as many virtues as my uncle Toby’s widow.—I don’t mean to insinuate, hussy, that my opinion is no better founded than his was of Mrs. ”

“ Three long Months and three long days are passed & gone, since my Eliza sighed 132on taking her Leave of Albions Cliffs, & of all in Albion, which was dear to her—How oft have I smarted at the Idea, of that last longing Look by wch. thou badest adieu to all thy heart sufferd at that dismal Crisis—’twas the Separation of Soul & Body—& equal to nothing but what passes on that tremendous Moment.—& like it in one Consequence, that thou art in another world; where I wd. give a world to follow thee, or hear even an Acct. of thee—for this I shall write in a few days to our dear friend Mrs. ”