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[\IN PENCIL 1740\]
   I might begin my letter like the new Satire lately publish'd are these things so, I can hardly think I am in my senses, & that M=r= C. is the generous magnificent disinterested Person you speak him, yet I am sure it is no Dream, for that must proceed from some preceeding thought or Idea in the Mind, now I protest I had not any one Notion in that figure, but as there may be Probability without truth, so there may be truth with=t= probability, that these things are so like the answer to the said Satire I know, but why they are so is the difficult thing to decide, that the works of a M–r are [\likely to/] [\be/] bad is nothing hard to make appear [\for\] the Satirist, but how [\I\] the Panegyrist shall deduce good principles from a Sa-r is
Another Story, it is a contradiction to all Moral things that a S- r should be honest, 'tis a refutation of holy Gospel, The Tree is not to be known by its fruit, the Evil tree hath brought forth good fruit & lo we have gatherd grapes of thistles. But fear not that I should publish satire against him, I will comment & Compliment him an inch thick, nay I begin to love him so well that I am almost sorry that when I speak well of him no body will believe me, but by a gratefull temper I am pleased to think that as we are the first Persons he ever obliged we shall be too the first that ever commended him, & M=r= Sawbridge who hates Vulgar & received opinions will say with the few (even tho he should be so unhappy as to think with the many) [\different\] that C is in an Honest Generous Man. I think I never was so happy as upon this good news, you know I always believed we should all be rich
one after another, Hope is my Recreation you too often chuse dispair for your amusement, but sure now you will not so mistrust fortune, she does civil things in a merry mood, if she will deck me in the trinkets I [\will/] thank her, if not she may keep her bawbles for vainer fools than my self. Blessings & preservation are in the hands of Providence & merit is its care; on that for weighty matters I depend [\TEAR\], but for the lucky works of chance I will keep a mind more easy, what nothing earthly gives or can destroy, the Souls calm sunshine & the heart felt joy, is Virtues prize, so my virtue is portion'd, what further [\dower\] my Father gives it I will thank him for, now the golden days of naked truth & innocence are over I must be clothed, & fed too a little & have a small Lodging, with some triffling Satisfactions for Mortality. but my inward divinity is soon satisfied & that I hope will keep me chearfull Social & Serene, & the mind is the noble part, tho my body seems [\cheafly\] yours tis that which tells me
I must ever be [\WORD CHANGED, UNCLEAR\] Madam your most Dutifull [\UNCLEAR\]
   Gratefull & affectionate Daughter
   E Robinson I beg my compliments to my Pappa with all respect. I am sorry I cannot write to my Sister to night I hear Jamaica is attack'd
[\ADDRESS\] To / M=rs= Robinson / at Norton / Near Hythe / Kent / Free [\Coland\]