Of all the letters with which the Female Spectator has been favored none gave us a greater mixture of pain and pleasure than this:—it is difficult to say whether the unhappy story it contains, or the agreeable manner in which it is related, most engages our attention; but while we do justice to the historian, and pity the unfortunate lady, in whose cause she has employed her pen, we must be wary how we excuse her faults, so far as to hinder others from being upon their guard not to fall into the same. 

Euphrosine, ¹ is the daughter of a wealthy merchant, charming as an angel, but endued with so many accomplishments that, to those who knew her truly, her beauty is the least distinguished part of her.—This fine young creature I shall call Euphrosene, since she has all the cheerfulness and sweetness ascribed to that goddess.”] whose strict adherence to filial duty has been taken notice of ² in one of our former lucubrations, ³ cannot tell how to forgive Aliena for so palpable a breach of that, as well as of modesty, in quitting her father’s house, in a manner which, indeed, one would imagine, the bare thought of would strike too much horror into a virtuous mind, to be able to carry it into execution. 

It is certain that nothing can be more astonishing, than that so young a creature, bred up in the strictest principles of virtue, and endued ⁴ with the perfections Claribella ascribes to her, could all at once throw off every consideration of what she owed herself, her family, and her sex, to expose herself to such wild hazards, the least of which was worse than death. 

To us it seems plain, that how much wit soever she may be mistress of in conversation, she is altogether incapable of making any solid reflections:—there must be a romantic turn in her mind, which may have been heightened by reading those extravagant fictions with which some books abound.—This Claribella seems to think herself, by her mentioning the fondness her fair unhappy friend testified for the character of Ballario: ⁵ —as she thought it an amiable one, it is not therefore to be wondered at that she copied after it. 

If poets would consider how great an effect their writings have upon the minds of young people, they would surely never paint whatever is an error in conduct in too beautiful colors, nor endeavour to excite pity on the state for those actions, which everywhere else justly incur both punishment and contempt; but too many of them, as well ancient as modern, have seemed to employ their whole art in touching the passions, without any regard to the morals of an audience; as a very judicious Italian author ⁶ once said of them, “Oltramontani non sono zelunti delle buone regele modestia & de prudenza.” ⁷ That is, “those on the other side of the mountains, make no scruple of breaking the good laws of modesty and prudence.”

A gentle, generous, tender soul we are ready to allow her, but must at the same time say, that such a disposition, where it happens to be joined with a weak judgment, is extremely dangerous to the person possessed of it; because it often transports such a one to excesses, by which the best virtues may become vices. 

This was evidently the case in regard of Aliena:—her love for the captain, as his addresses were honourable, was natural, and nothing in it which could arraign ⁸ her prudence, or her modesty:—the grief she was under at the necessity of parting with him for so long a time, and even her soft desires of being united to him before their separation, had something amiable in them;—had she stuck there, and preserved her heart and person till his return, and he had afterwards proved ungrateful or inconstant to such love and sweetness, no reproaches could have been equal to his crime; but I am sorry to say, that by giving too great a loose to those qualities, which, kept within due limits, had been worthy praise and imitation, she forfeited all pretensions to the esteem of the man she loved, as well as of those least interested in the affair. 

The Female Spectator must not therefore be so far swayed, either by her own good nature, or the desires of Claribella, as to attempt framing any excuse for those very errors in conduct, which these monthly essays are intended only to reform. ⁹ 

Neither is it possible to comply with the request of this agreeable correspondent, in passing too severe a judgment on the captain’s behavior:—he might before this unhappy incident have had a very sincere passion for Aliena, yet prudence might suggest to him many inconveniences attending the leaving so young a wife to herself immediately after marriage:—he imagined, perhaps, that in his absence she might be exposed to trials her extreme youth and inexperience of the world, would fail enabling her to bear, with that resolution and intrepidity, ¹⁰  which her honour, or at least her reputation, demanded, and might possibly reason with himself in this manner, “If the tenderness she seems to regard me with has taken any deep root in her soul, and she has really found anything in me worthy of a serious affection, she will doubtless preserve herself for me till my return; but if it be light and wavering, marriage will be too weak to fix it, and I could with less grief support the inconstancy of a mistress than a wife.”

Such reflections as these, I say, were very natural to a thinking man:—marriage is a thing of too serious a nature to be entered into inconsiderately or wantonly, as the very ceremony of it, as established in our church, informs us; and those who rashly take the sacred bonds upon them are in very great danger of soon growing wary of them. 

The captain’s love for Aliena therefore might not be less tender for its being more solid than perhaps the impetuosity ¹¹ of her passion made her wish it was:—for my part, I see no reason that could induce him to counterfeit an inclination, which he felt not in reality:—the lady had no fortune, he aimed at nothing dishonorable, and doubtless meant as he said, to have made her his wife, had not this unexpected separation happened. 

To this Claribella may probably reply, that whatever doubts might have arisen in his mind, concerning her constancy before he took leave of her, the design she afterwards formed of accompanying him in all his dangers, and the pains she took for the accomplishment of that enterprise, was a proof that her very life was wrapped up in him, and that there was not the least likelihood she ever could be brought to regard anything in competition with him. 

Nobody can, indeed, deny the greatness of her affection at that time, nor affirm that it would not have been as lasting as it was violent; yet I have known some who have run as extravagant lengths, even to their own ruin, for the accomplishment of their wishes, and no sooner were in possession of them, than they repented what they had done, and became indifferent, if no worse, to the person they but lately idolized. 

Besides, as I have taken notice in a former Spectator, and every one may be convinced of by a very little observation, it rarely happens, that a person so young as Aliena, can be a judge of her own heart, and therefore the captain may very well deserve to be excused for not being able to place so great a dépendance on her present tenderness, as I will not say but it might in reality have demanded. The poet ¹² tells us, 

“There’s no such thing as constancy we call,
Faith ties not hearts, ‘tis inclination all:
Some wit deform’d, or beauty much decay’d,
First, constancy in love, a virtue made:
From friendship they that land-mark did remove,
And falsely plac’d it on the bounds of love.” ¹³

Upon the whole, it is the concurrent opinion of our society, that how much soever the making her his wife, under such circumstances, might have magnified his love, it would have lessened his prudence; and had she in so long an absence behaved with more conduct than could be well expected, from a woman who had the strongest passions, and had testified she regarded nothing but the gratification of them, the reputation of his wisdom, in running so great a hazard, must however have suffered very much. 

These reasons oblige us to acquit the captain of all ingratitude, so far as relates to the main point; but we cannot do so, as to his not writing to her:—he ought certainly to have taken all the opportunities which the distance between them would admit, to console her under afflictions, which he must be sensible were unavoidable in circumstances such as hers; and that he has not done so, looks as if the Gravesend affair had made an alteration in the sentiments he once had in her favour. 

If it has happened thus, as there is too much probability it has, the greatest act of friendship to Aliena, is to wean her as much as possible from all remembrance of their former love; and perhaps this is the very reason that her relations treat her with so much harshness, since nothing so much contributes to give one a distaste to what has been too dear, as to be perpetually teased and reproached for it by those we live with:—I can by no other motive account for, or excuse the cruelty of her brothers and sisters, since it is certain her innate griefs are a sufficient punishment for her transgression, without any addition from another quarter. 

I would have them, however, be cautious, and not try the experiment too far, lest they should drive her to such extremes, as would make them afterwards repent being the cause of. 

Numbers of unhappy creatures now groan under lasting infamy, who, had their first fault been forgiven, and as much as possible concealed from the knowledge of the world, perhaps had, by a future regularity of conduct, atoned for the errors of the past, and been as great a comfort to their families, as they have since been a disgrace. 

Instances of young people who, after the first wound given to their reputation, have thought themselves under no manner of restraint, and abandoned to all sense of shame, are so flagrant, that I wonder any parent or relation should not tremble at publishing a fault, which, if concealed, might possibly be the last; but, if divulged, is, for the most part, but the beginning or prelude to a continued series of vice and ignominy. ¹⁴

I am very much afraid the friends of Aliena have been too forgetful of this so necessary a maxim:—the surprise and indignation at her elopement, when they first discovered it, hurried them perhaps to enquiries, which, though they could not be blamed for making, should, notwithstanding, have been done with all the privacy imaginable. 

If I mistake their behaviour in this point, I heartily ask pardon; but am led into it by Claribella’s letter, who, by desiring me to insert the story in vindication of her friend’s innocence, gives me reason to believe it has been but too publicly aspersed; ¹⁵ for when any thing of that nature comes to be the talk of the town, it is always sure to appear in its worst colours. As Hudibras ¹⁶ ludicrously says, 

“Honour is like that glossy bubble,
Which gives philosophers such trouble:
Whose least part flaw’d, the whole does fly,
And wits are crack’d to find out why.” ¹⁷

I would therefore advise, that Aliena should, for the future, be used with more gentleness; if one may judge of her dispositions by the expressions she made use of to the lieutenant after the discovery of her sex, she is sufficiently ashamed of her folly, and needs no upbraidings to convince her of it:—her condition, in my opinion, now requires balsams, ¹⁸ not corrosives; ¹⁹ for though ill usage may bring her to hate the remembrance of him, and that passion which has subjected her to it, may also bring her, in time, to hate everything else, even her own life, and fall into a despair, which, I presume, none of them would wish to see. 

The sincerity and good nature of Claribella can never be too much applauded; and however partial we may think her in this affair, as the warmth of friendship could only sway a lady of her fine understanding to be so, the cause renders the effect rather amiable than the contrary.—We shall always receive with pleasure whatever we shall be favoured with from so agreeable a correspondent, ²⁰ and wish she may find in all those who are so happy to enjoy her conversation the same zeal and generosity, as it is easy to perceive by her manner of writing, her own soul abounds with. 

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