Part 26: Cool Reasonings

Lisbon, June.

Henry,— My father has decided that one general's orders are not enough for my present circumstances. The stout packet he sent was undoubtedly full of them; I read half a page before determining its best use was for getting up a fire, and therefore must thank you for ensuring my toast cooked evenly as the whole thing burned rather well.

I would not waste my ink or your shillings for this letter except that Eleanor has writ as well and begged it. To satisfy her, and as a just proof against past and future allegations of neglect, I therefore pen the following lines of encouragement.

First: your turning Jacobite is no great surprise, except by the tardiness and lameness of its execution. I suppose you truly believed your words were mightier than a sword, though a lifetime's experience should have proved otherwise. Such poor strategy is reason enough to abandon fraternité without consulting paternal instruction. Then again, you are at liberté, and so would I enjoy the same with égalité. There, I have found a moral: too close observance of filial obedience is detrimental to enjoying life's pleasures. You can hardly disagree with me now!

Checking my sister's notes, I see she enjoins that I assure you of her good health. Be so assured.

Next: why the devil are you still unmarried? Surely enough time has passed to read the banns if the lady is too shy for Scotland. I hope you are not expecting pardon. Tis a warm time of year to pray for H—l's freezing. If parental authority is the encumbrance, as must be the case, (and as I read again I see is, but have not patience nor leisure to start over), do not hope for salvation soon. What little I gleaned of my father's words gave no quarter. Even full surrender might not be accepted yet. Best wait a while longer before bearding that lion. If, on my return, you are still unhappily free of leg shackles, there may be something we can do, but that will not be for some time and I have other stratagems to contemplate than your petty little drama.

As you have not sought my opinion of the lady or your union therewith, I will refrain from comment, except to say a parsonage mouse is what anyone of sense should have expected of you, and that I have no doubt you will settle very well in retirement. Eleanor likes her, at least, and that is something. Accept whatever warm felicitations you find agreeable, or curses on the sex should that be more to your liking, in lieu of my writing further. Pray the French wilt in the heat, and our allies learn proper strategy.

Yours, &c.,

Captain F. Tilney

Title from Chapter 27 of Northanger Abbey: "But your mind is warped by an innate principle of general integrity, and therefore not accessible to the cool reasonings of family partiality, or a desire of revenge."