At length you say your daughter's heart is engaged; she loves Mons. de Valcy, and prefers him to every other man; you have therefore given your consent. You are to blame, my dear friend, any longer to fear my censure. It is very natural to make reflections, when one fancies they may be of use; but it would be very absurd to persevere in condemning an affair which is determined on. That would be merely to shew my opinion without proving my friendship. I beg therefore you will be assured I am greatly interested for Mons. de Valcy; and that in future I will only look forward to the advantages which may arise from this union. Your daughter is not to leave you; she will live with you; this is a very lucky circumstance. You may watch over her actions, and gain the confidence and friendship of her husband, and, at the same time, keep her from the counsels of her mother-in-law. In short, she will be under your eye, and I shall have no more fears for her safety.

You think, what I said in my last letter upon the subject of reading novels is too severe. You think forbidding young people to read them is the only way to make them more earnest to get at them. I am of the same opinion; for, as soon as ever a young woman comes to be her own mistress, she will make herself amends for the constraint she had laboured under, and she will read every novel she can lay her hands on, What I object to is their being allowed to read novels, just at the time when they are most likely to make impressions on them; that is, when they are about sixteen or seventeen. I know but of three novels which have any morality in them; Clarissa, which is the best, Grandison, and Pamela.