from Paris to London, and from London to Rose-Bank? Or shall I recount
the hopes and fears of a sister; who has sometimes the temerity to
think; who would be so unfashionable as to love her brother, not for
the cut of his coat, not for the French or Italian phrases with which
he might interlard his discourse, not for any recital of the delight
which foreign ladies took in him and which he took in foreign ladies,
not for a loud tongue and a prodigious lack of wit, not for any of the
antics or impertinences which I have too frequently remarked in young
men of fashion, but for something directly the reverse of all these:
for well-digested principles, an ardent desire of truth, incessant
struggles to shake off prejudices; for emanations of soul, bursts of
thought, and flashes of genius. For such a brother, oh how eager would
be my arms, how open my heart!

Do not think, my dear Clifton, I am unjust enough to mean any thing
personal; to satirize what I can scarcely be said to have seen, or to
condemn unheard. No. Your faculties were always lively. You have seen
much, must have learned much, and why may I not suppose you are become
all that a sister's heart can desire? Pardon me if I expect too much.
Do we not all admire and seek after excellence? When we are told such a
person is a man of genius, do we not wish to enquire into the fact?
And, if true, are we not desirous of making him our intimate? And do
not the ties of blood doubly enforce such wishes, in a brother's
behalf? From what you were, I have no doubt but that you are become an
accomplished man. But I hope you are also become something much better.
I hope that, by the exertion of your talents, acquirements, and genius,
I shall see you the friend of man, and the true citizen of the world.

If you are all that I hope, I think you will not be offended with these
sisterly effusions. If you are not, or but in part, you may imagine me