Sir, sir! hesitated the simpleton, and was going to betray my expectation, by expressing some little reluctance; but, recollecting myself, I suffered him to lead me into the cedar-parlour. When there, seating me-Now, madam, let me again thank you, a thousand and a thousand times, for the honour of your last condescending letter. He but just touched my hand, and appeared so encouragingly respectful-I must have loved him then, if I had not before. You have, my dearest Miss Byron, a man before you, that never can be ungrateful. Be lieve me, my dearest life, though I have urged you as I have, you are absolutely your own mistress of the day, and of every day of my life, as far as it shall be in my power to make you so. You part with power, my lovely Miss Byron, but to find it with augmentation. Only let me beseech you, now I have given it you back again, not to permit your heart to be swayed by mere motives of punctilio. A charming glow had overspread his cheek: and he looked as when I beheld him in his sister's dressing-room, after he had rescued me from the hands of the then cruel, now mortified, Sir Hargrave Pollexfen. such occasions; but I, even I, the successful, the distinguished man, shall not forbear some inward pity for them. Now, madam, an excursion of a month or two, if no more, made by those dear friends, who otherwise will be loath, so soon as I wish, to part with you; will wean, as I may say, these unhappy men from you. Mr Orme, Mr Greville, will not then be obliged to quit their own houses: all your new relations will attend you, in turn, in the house that I always loved, and wished to settle in ; your own relations with you, and witnesses of our mutual happiness. Support me, generously support me, in this proposal, when I shall be entitled, by your goodness, to make it.—Silent, my dearest love!-If I have been too early in thus opening my heart to you, do me the justice to suppose that it is owing to my wishes to pass over another interesting subject, which must take place before my proposal can; and which, however, engages my whole heart. I might well be silent: I could not find utterance for the emotions of my heart. I withdrew my hand to take my handkerchief; [You have often told me, Lady G, that I was born in an April morning; but, putting it into my other hand, I gratefully (I hope not too Punctilio, mere punctilio, sir, shall not weigh fondly) laid it in his way to take again. He did, with me. What I wrote to you I intended to with an air that had both veneration and graticomply with. My heart, sir, is-Yours!-I tude in it-My dearest life, tenderly grasping it would have said-Why would not my tongue-how amiable this goodness!-You are not, I speak it ?-My, my, I stammered-Why did I see, displeased. stammer ?-Had I not owned it before to be so? -My grandmamma, sir, and aunt-I could not at that instant, for my life, say another word. Sweet confusion! I urge you no more on this topic, just now: I joyfully take your reference. Then drawing a chair next me, he kissed his own hand, and held it out, as it were, courting mine. I yielded it to him, as by an involuntary motion-yet my heart was forwarder than my hand. He tenderly grasped it-retaining it— and, instead of urging the approaching day, talked to me as if it were passed. I have a request to make to your grandmother, your uncle and aunt, your Lucy, and our Mr Deane; it is a very bold one: that when I have been blessed with your hand, they will be so good as to accompany their beloved Harriet, then no more Byron, but Grandison, to my family-seat, and see the beloved of every heart happily fixed, and in possession of it. The house is venerable; I will not call it old; but large and convenient. Compassion for your neighbouring admirers, will induce you to support me in this request. You cannot bear, I imagine, without a lessening of your own joy, (if I prove the just, the grateful man to you, that, if I know myself, I shall be,) either to see at church, or in your visits, those men who preferred you to all women; or, if they forbear the one or the other, to account with a gentle sigh for their forbearance. Other women might triumph secretly on Displeased-0 Sir Charles !-But, alas ! while I am too happy, the exalted lady abroad! -She! she only-Your friend Jeronymo's last letter Thus brokenly did I express (what my heart was full of) her worthiness, my inferiority. Exalted creature!-Angelic goodness! You are Clementina and Harriet, both in one: one mind certainly informs you both. Just then came in my Aunt Selby. I have, madam, said he to her, been making a request to your beloved niece: I am exceedingly earnest in it. She will be so good as to break it to you ; and I hope― O sir! interrupted my too eager aunt, supposing it had been for the day, Mrs Shirley has the power My dear Aunt Selby! said I. He caught eagerly at it-Happy mistake! said he. My dear Mrs Selby, I thank you. He bowed, kissed my hand, and left me, to go to my grandmamma, to inform himself of what he had to hope for, as to the day, from her. I told my aunt what the request was; and she approved of his proposal. It will be the pride of your uncle's heart and mine, said she, to see you settled in Grandison-Hall. In less than a quarter of an hour Sir Charles returned, overjoyed, with an open billet in his Had you seen, my dear Charlotte, with what tender respect your brother approached me, and with what an inimitable grace he offered me the open billet, how would you have been charmed with him! The excellent Mrs Shirley, said he, would not permit me to bring this inestimable paper folded. I have contemplated the propitious lines all the way. On my knee let me thank you, my dear Miss Byron, for your acquiescence with her determination. He kissed my hand on one knee. He saw me disturbed. [Could I help it? There is something awful in the fixing of the very day, Lady G―; but I tried to recover myself. I would fain avoid appearing guilty of affectation in his eyes. I will not add a word more, my angel, said he, on the joyful subject. Only tell me, shall we hasten to attend the condescending parent? My duty to her, sir, said I, (but with more hesitation than I wished,) shall be an earnest of that which I am so soon, so very soon, to vow to you. And I gave him my hand. There is no describing to you, my dear Lady G, the looks, the manner, with which it was received, by the most ardent, and yet most respectful, of lovers. I had scarce approached my grandmamma, and begun to utter something of the much my heart was filled with, when my uncle and Mr Deane (by mistake, I believe) were admitted. Well, let us know everything about it, said my uncle-I hope Sir Charles is pleased. I hope The day was named to him. Well, well, thank God! And he spoke in an accent that expressed his joy. Your niece has pleased you now, I hope, Mr Selby, said my grandmamma. Pretty well! pretty well! God grant that we meet with no put-offs! I hardly longed so much for my own day with my Dame Selby there, as I have done, and do, to see my Harriet Lady Grandison-God, God bless you, my dearest love! and kissed my cheek-You have been very, very good in the main-And, but for Dame Selby, would have been better, as far as I know. You don't do me justice, my dear, replied my aunt. Don't I?-Nor did I ever-taking kindly her hand. It was impossible, my dear Sir Charles Grandison, for such a man as I to do justice to this excellent woman. You never, sir, will be so froppish as I have been: it was in my nature: I could not help it: but I was always sorry for it afterwards-But if Harriet make you no worse a wife than my Dame Selby has made me, you will not be unhappy-And yet I was led a tedious dance after her, before I knew what she would be at-I had like to have forgot that. But one thing I have to request, proceeded my uncle-Mr Deane and I have been talking of it God bless your dear souls, all of you, oblige me-It is, That we may have a joyful day of it: and that all our neighbours and tenants may rejoice with us. I must make the village smoke. Nohugger-mugger doings-Let private weddings be for doubtful happiness O my uncle! said I And, O my niece! too: I must have it so.-Sir Charles, what say you? Are you for chambermarriages? I say, that such are neither decent, nor godly. But you would not allow Lady G to come off so-And in your own caseAm for doing as in Lady G- -'s. I must hope to pay my vows at the altar to this excellent lady. What says my Miss Byron? I, sir, hope to return mine in the same sacred place; (my face, as I felt, in a glow ;) but yet I shall wish to have it as private as possible. Why, oy, to be sure-When a woman is to do anything she is ashamed of-I think she is right to be private, for example-sake. Shall you be ashamed, Sir Charles? Sir Charles has given it under his hand this very day, said Lucy, (interrupting him, as he was going to speak,) that he shall glory in receiving my cousin's hand before ten thousand witnesses. Make but my dearest Miss Byron easy on this head, said Sir Charles; (that task, ladies, be yours ;) and, so the church be the place, I shall be happy in the manner. The ceremony, said my grandmamma, cannot be a private one with us: everybody's eyes are upon us. It would be an affectation in us, that would rather raise, than allay, curiosity. And I have as good as promised the two pretty Needhams, said my uncle-and Miss Watson and her cousin are in expectationO my uncle! Dear Harriet, forgive me! These are your companions from childhood! You can treat them but once in your life in this way. They would be glad at heart to return the favour. I withdrew: Lucy followed me-You, Lucy, I see, said I, are for these public doings-But you would not, if it were your own case. Your case is my case, Harriet. I should hardly bear being made a show of with any other man: but with such a man as yours, if I did not hold up my head, I should give leer for stare, to see how envy sat upon the women's faces. You may leer at the men, for the same reason. It will be a wicked day, after all, Harriet; for a general envy will possess the hearts of all beholders. Lucy, you know, my dear Lady G—, is a whimsical girl. So, my dear, the solemn day is fixed. If you could favour me with your supporting presence -I know, if you come, you will be very good, now I have not, as I hope you will think, been guilty of much, no not of any, parade.-Lucy will write letters for me to Lady D-, to my cousins Reeves, and will undertake all matters of ceremony for her Harriet. May I but have the happiness to know that Lady ClementinaWhat can I wish for Lady Clementina?-But should she be unhappy-that would indeed be an abatement of my felicity! There is no such thing as thinking of the dear Emily. What a happiness, could I have seen Lady L- here! But that cannot be. May the day that will in its anniversary be the happiest of my life, give to Lord and Lady L their most earnest wishes! Sir Charles dispatches Frederick to-morrow to town with letters: he will bring you mine. I would not go to rest till I had finished it. What have I more to say?—I seem to have a great deal. My head and my heart are full: yet it is time to draw to a conclusion. Let me, my dearest Lady G, know, if I am to have any hopes of your presence! Will you be so good as to manage with Emily? My aunt bids me propose to you, that since we are to have all the world of our acquaintance, you should bring down your Aunt Grandison with you-We have at both houses a great deal of room. Sir Charles just now asked my grandmamma, Whether Dr Curtis would be satisfied with a handsome present, if every one's dear Dr Bart lett were to perform the ceremony? My grandmamma answered, That Dr Curtis was one of my admiring friends. He had for years, even from my girlhood, prided himself with the hopes of joining my hand in marriage, especially if the office were performed in Northamptonshire. She was afraid he would think himself slighted; and he was a very worthy man. Sir Charles acquiesced. But, greatly as I respect Dr Curtis, I should have preferred the venerable Dr Bartlett to any man in the world. A solemn, solemn subject, though a joyful one! Adieu, adieu, my dear Lady G! Be sure, continue to love me. I will, if possible, deserve your love. Witness HARRIET BYRON. LETTER CCXLVII. LADY GTO MISS BYRON. Friday Morning, Nov. 10. EXPECT a letter of hurry, in answer to one, two, three, four, five, six, I don't know how many, of yours; some filled with tenderness, some with love, some with nicety, sense, and nonsense. I shall reckon with you soon for one of them, in which you take intolerable liberties with me. O Harriet ! tremble at my resentment. You are downright scurrilous, my dear. I imputed extravagance to Emily, in my last. The girl's a good girl. I was too hasty. I will shew you two letters of hers, and one of my brother's, which clears up the imputation. Í love her more and more. Poor girl! Love peeps out in twenty places of hers: In his, he is the best of men-But that you knew before. And so the honest man kissed you; kissed your lip! O Lud! O Lud! how could you bear him afterwards in your sight?-Forgiving creature! And so you were friends with him before you had time to shew your anger.-Nothing like doing impudent things in a hurry.— Sometimes respectful, sometimes free: Why this is the way of all the fellows, Harriet !— And so they go on till the respectfulness is drawn off, and nothing but the lees are left; and after two or three months are over, the once squeamish palate will be glad of them. I like your uncle better than I like either your aunt or you—He likes me. What a miserable dog take the word for shortness; I am in haste is Sir Hargrave! Your plea against Clementina being compelled, or over-persuaded (the same thing,) I much like. You are a good girl. Betwixt her excellencies and yours, how must my brother's soul be divided! I wonder he thinks of either of you. Ass and two bundles of hay, Harriet. But my brother is a nobler animal. He won't starve. However, I think, in my conscience, that he should have you both. There might be a law made, that the case should not be brought into precedent till two such women should be found, and such a man ; and all three in the like situation. Bagenhall, a miserable devil!- Excellent warning pieces! Wicked Harriet! You infected me with your horrible inferences from Greville's temper, threatenings, and so forth. The conclusion of this letter left me a wretch!-If these megrims are the effect of love, thank Heaven, I never knew what it was! Devilish girl, to torment me with your dreams! If you ever tell me of any more of them, except they are of a different sort, woe be to you! I like your parting scene, and all that. Your realities, thank Heaven, are more delightful than your reveries. I hope you'll always find them so. And so you were full of apprehensions on the favour your aunt did me in employing me about your nuptial equipments. Long ago, you gave affectation to the winds. Good! But the winds would not accept of your present. They puffed it you back again, and your servants never told you it was brought home. I repeat, my dear, that my brother is much more clever in these scenes of love and courtship, than his mistress. You are a pretty cow, my love: You give good store of milk, but you have a very careless heel. Yet when you bethink you, you are very good; but not always the same Harriet. Your nurse in your infancy, see-sawed you—Margery down -and you cannot put the pretty play out of your practice, though it is out of your memory. I can look back, and sometimes by your forwardness, sometimes by your crowing, know how it was with you eighteen years ago. My brother's letter to you, after he has men tioned his visits to the two sick baronets, is that of a man who shews you genteelly, and politely, that he is sensible he has a pretty trifler to deal with. I wish you would square your conduct, by what you must imagine a man of his sense would think of you. I should be too proud a minx, in your case, to owe obligation to my man for bearing with me-Spare me, spare me, Harriet! have hit myself a terrible box o'the ear. But we can find faults in others, which we will not allow to be such in ourselves -But here is the difference between your conduct now, and what mine was. I knew I was wrong, and resolved one day to amend. You think yourself right; and while you so think, will hardly ever mend, till your man ties you down to good behaviour. Jeronymo's letter? O the next to divine Clementina! Indeed, Harriet, I think she out-soars you. I adore her. But will she be prevailed upon to marry?-She will!-If she does-Then -But, dear soul !-Pressed as she is-Having refused (instead of being refused) the beloved of her heart, she will still be greater than any of her sex, if she does; the man proposed, so unexceptionable; so tenderly loving her, in the height of her calamity, as well as in her prosperity!-Gratitude to him, as well as duty to her parents; parents so indulgent as they have always been to her; will incline her to marry. May she be happy!-I am pleased with your solicitude for her happiness. I like your answer to my brother: A good and well-deserved resignation. Let's see how you keep to it. You do keep to it—as I expected-Ah! Harriet! you are quite a girl sometimes; though, at others, more than woman! Will he not ask leave to come down? Fine resignation!-Will he not write first ?-Yes, yes, he will do everything he ought to do. Look to your own behaviour, child; don't fear but his will be all as it should be. As to your finery, how now, Harriet! Are you to direct everything; yet pretend to ask advice? Be contented that everything is done for you of this sort, and learn to be humble. Surely we that have passed the Rubicon, are not to be directed by you, who never came in sight of the river. But you maidens are poor, proud, pragmatical mortals. You profess ignorance: but in heart imagine you are at the tip-top of your wisdom. But here you come with your horrid fears again. Would to the Lord the day were over; and you and my brother were-Upon my lifeyou are a- -But I won't call you names. Lucy thinks you should go to Shirley-Manor when my brother comes-Egregious folly! I did not think Lucy could have been so silly. Concerning our cousins Reeves' wanting to be present at your nuptials-your invitation to me and what you say of Emily-more anon. Well, and so my brother has sent you the expected letter. Does it please you, Harriet? The deuce is in you, if it don't. But you are not pleased with it, it seems. He is too hasty for you. Where's the boastedof resignation, Harriet? True female resignation! Tell Lucy, I am obliged to her for her transcriptions. I shall be very proud of her correspondence. Your aunt thinks he is full hasty.-Your aunt's a simpleton, as well as you. My service to her. But is the d-1 in the girl again? What would have become of Lady L— - and me, had you not sent both letters together that relate to Greville's supposed malignance? I tremble, nevertheless, at the thought of what might have been. But I will not forgive Lucy for advising you to send to us your horribly-painted terrors. What could possess her to advise you to do so, and you to follow her advice? I forgive not either of you. In revenge, I will remind you, that they were good women, to whom my brother owed all the embarrassments of his past life. But a caution, Harriet!-Never, never, let foolish dreams claim a moment of your attention-Imminent as seemed the danger, your superstition made it more dreadful to you than otherwise it would have been. You have a mind superior to such foibles: Act up to its native dignity, and let not the follies of your nurses, in your infantile state be carried into your mature age, to depreciate your womanly reason-Do you think I don't dream, as well as you? Well might ye all rejoice in his safety. Hang about his neck, for joy! So you ought, if you thought it would do him honour. Hush, hush, proud girl! don't scold me! I think, were a king your man, he would have been honoured by the charming freedom. Cast himself at your feet! And you ought to have cast yourself at his. There can be no reserve to him after this, you say. Nor ought there, had it not been for this: Did you not signify to him, by letter, that you would resign to his generosity? Let me whisper you, Harriet-Sure you proud maiden minxes think-But I did once-I often wonder in my heart-But men and women are cheats to one another. But we may, in a great measure, thank the poetical tribe for the fascination. I hate them all. Are they not inflamers of the worst passions? With regard to the Epics, would Alexander, madman as he was, have been so mach a madman, had it not been for Homer? Of what violences, murders, depredations, have not the epic poets been the occasion, by propagating false honour, false glory, and false religion? Those of the amorous class ought in all ages (could their future geniuses for tinkling sound and measure have been known) to have been strangled in their cradles. Abusers of talents given them for better purposes, (for all this time, I put sacred poesy out of the question ;) and avowedly claiming a right to be licentious, and to overleap the bounds of decency, truth, and nature. What a rant! How came these fellows into my rambling head? O, I remember-My whisper to you led me into all this stuff. Well, and you at last recollect the trouble you have given my brother about you. Good girl! Had I remembered that, I would have spared you my reflections upon the poets and poetasters of all ages, the truly-inspired ones excepted: and yet I think the others should have been banished our commonwealth, as well as Plato's. Well, but, to shorten my nonsense, now you have shortened yours-The day is at last fixed -Joy, joy, joy, to you, my lovely Harriet, and to my brother!-And it must be a public affair! -Why-that's right, since it would be impossible to make it a private one. My honest man is mad for joy. He fell down on his knees, to beg of me to accept of your invitation, and of his company. I made a merit of obliging him, though I would have been as humble to him, rather than not be with you; and yet, by one saucy line, I imagine you had rather be without me. word and honour that she shall be a person of prime account at your first christening. Yet she would be glad to be present on both occa sions. But ah, the poor Emily!-She has also been on her knees to me, to take her down with me What shall I do?-Dear soul, she embarrasses me! I have put her upon writing to her guardian, for his leave. I believe she has written. If she knew her own case, I think she would not desire it. Poor Lady L-! She is robbed, she says, of one of the greatest pleasures of her life. Ah, Charlotte! said she to me, wringing my hand, these husbands owe us a great deal. This is an humbling circumstance. Were not my lord and yours the best of husbands The best of husbands! Wretches! said I. You may forgive yours, Caroline-You are a good creature; but not I mine. And something else I said that made her laugh in the midst of her lachrymals. But she begs and prays of me not to go down to you, unless all should be over with her. I can do her no good; and only increase my own apprehensions, if I am with her. A blessed way two poor souls of sisters of us are in.-Sorry fellows! And yet, Harriet, with such prospects as these before them, some girls leap windows, swim rivers, climb walls-Deuce take their folly! Their choice is their punishment. Who can pity such rash souls as those? Thanks be praised, you, Harriet, are going on to keep in countenance the two anxious sisters, Who, having shot the gulf, delight to sce Succeeding souls plunge in with like uncertainty; Says a good man, on a still more serious occasion. Good news! joyful news!-1 shall, I shall, go down to you. Nothing to hinder me! Lord L- proud as a peacock, is this moment come for me: I am hurrying away with him. A fine boy!-Sister safe!-Harriet, Lucy, Nancy, for your own future encouragement! Huzza, girls! I am gone. LETTER CCXLVIII. MISS BYRON TO LADY G Your cousins Reeves are ready to set out. God bless you, invite Aunt Nell in form! She thinks herself neglected. A nephew whom she Thursday, Nov. 9. so dearly loves! Very hard! she says.-And My aunt is so much afraid that everything she never was but at one wedding, and has for- will not be ready, that she puts me upon writgot how it was ; and may never be at another-ing to you, to hasten what remains. I am more Pink and yellow, all is ready provided, go down or not--O but, if you choose not her company, I will tell you how to come off-Give her your VOL. VIII. than half a fool-But that I always was. My spirits sink at the thoughts of so public a day. The mind, my grandmamma says, can but be 2 T |