place, and to be present at some of the public entertainments. The gentlemen at the first motion made a party to attend him, and Sir Charles, you may suppose, would not, in complaisance, be excused. Dr Bartlett and Father Marescotti, who are inseparable, had formed a scheme of their own; and the ladies declared, that not one of them would leave me.

The gentlemen accordingly set out yesterday morning. In the afternoon arrived here, one of the most obliging of wives, tenderest of mothers, and amiable of nurses-Who do you think, madam?-No other than Lady G- , and her lord. Ungovernable Charlotte! Her month but just up! We have all blamed her. We blamed her lord, too, for suffering her to come.-But what could I do? said he, innocently-But they are both so much improved as husband and wife! Upon my word, I am charmed with her in every one of the above characters. My lord appears, even in her company, now that his wife has given him his due consequence, a manly, sensible man. If he ever had any levities of behaviour, they are all vanished and gone. She is all vivacity, as heretofore, but no flippancy. Her liveliness, in the main, is that of a sensible, not a very saucy wife, entirely satisfied with herself, her situation, and prospects. Upon my word, I am brought over to her opinion, that if the second man be worthy, a woman may be happy, who has not been indulged in her first fancy: and I am the rather induced to hope so, for my Emily's sake.

Tuesday Evening.

MRS BEAUMONT has received a letter from the ladies her friends at Florence, expressing their fear that the love of her country, now she is in it, has taken place in her heart, and weakened her affection for them. They beg of her to convince them of the contrary by hastening to them.

This letter, it seems, mentions some severe reflections cast upon Lady Clementina by the unhappy Olivia. Camilla, who is very fond of me, has hinted this to me, and at the same time acquainted me with her young lady's earnestness to see it; Mrs Beaumont having expressed to her her indignation against Olivia on the occasion. Unworthy Olivia! What reflections can you cast on the admirable Clementina!Yet I wish Mrs Beaumont would let me see them. But, dear Mrs Beaumont, impart not to Clementina anything that may affect her delicate and too scrupulous mind!

This over-lively Lady G has been acquainting Lady Clementina with Emily's story, yet intending to set forth nothing by it, she says, but the fortitude of so young a creature.

She owns, that Lady Clementina often reddened as she proceeded in it; yet that she went on-How could she?-I chid her, for poor

Emily's sake, for her own sake, for Lady Clementina's, for Sir Edward Beauchamp's sakeHow could she be so indelicate? Is there a necessity, dear Lady G, (thought I, as she repeated what passed on the occasion,) now you are so right in the great articles of your duty, that you must be wrong in something?

Lady Clementina highly applauded Emily, however. A charming young creature, she called her. Absence, added she, is certainly a right measure. Were the man a common man, it would not signify: Presence, in that case, might help her, as he probably would every day expose his faults to her observation. But absence from such a man as Sir Charles Grandison is certainly right. Lady G- says, it was easy to see that Lady Clementina made some self-applications upon it.

Wednesday Morning, May.2. LADY G has been communicating to me a conference which, she says, she could not but overhear, between Lady Clementina and Mrs Beaumont, held in the closet of the latter, which joins to a closet in Lady G———'s dressing-room, separated only by a thin partition. 'The rooms were once one- -A little of your usual curiosity, I doubt, my dear Lady G- -, thought I. You were not confined to that closet. might have retired when their conversation began. But, no; curiosity is a nail, that will fasten to the ground the foot of an inquisitive person, however painful what she hears may sometimes make her situation.

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Mrs Beaumont had acquainted Lady Clementina with the contents of the letter she had received from her friends at Florence. The poor lady was in tears upon it. She called Olivia cruel, unjust, wicked. The very surmise, said she, is of such a nature, that I cannot bear to look either Lady Grandison, or any of her friends, in the face: For Heaven's sake, let it not be hinted to any one in the family, nor even to my own relations, that Olivia herself could be capable of making such a reflection upon me.

My dearest Lady Clementina, said Mrs Beaumont, I wish

What wisheth my dear Mrs Beaumont ?That you would change your system. ARTICLES, Mrs Beaumont! ARTICLES!—If they are broken with me, I resume my solicitude to be allowed to take the veil. That allowance, and that only, can set all right. My heart is distressed by what you have let me see Olivia has dared to throw out against me.

Allow me one observation only, my dear Clementina. What Olivia has hinted, the world will hint. It behoves you to consider, that the husband of Lady Grandison ought not to be so much the object of any woman's attention, as to be an obstacle to the address of another man really worthy.

Cruel, cruel Olivia! There is no bearing the thought of her vile suggestion. None but Olivia -Say not the world. Olivia only, Mrs Beaumont, was capable of such a suggestion

For my own part, interrupted Mrs Beaumont, I am confident that it is a base suggestion; and that if Sir Charles Grandison had not been married, you never would have been his. You could not have receded from your former objections. You see what a determined Protestant he is; a Protestant upon principle. You are equally steady in your faith: yet, as matters stand; so amiable as he is; and the more his private life and manners are seen, the more to be admired; must not your best friends lay it at the door of a first love, that you cannot give way to the address of a man, against whom no one other objection can lie ?

ARTICLES, Mrs Beaumont! ARTICLES!

One word more only, my dear Lady Clementina, as the subject was begun by yourself May it not be expected, now that no opposition is given you, you will begin to feel, that your happiness, and peace, and strength of mind, will flow from turning your thoughts on principles of duty (so the world will call them) to other objects; and that the dwelling on those it will suppose you to dwell upon, till your situation is visibly altered, will serve only to disturb your mind, and fill your friends, on every instance that may affect it, with apprehensions for you? You have said a great deal, Mrs Beaumont. But is not the veil the only possible expedient to make us all easy?

ARTICLES! ARTICLES! my dear Clementina. I have been drawn in by yourself insensibly to speak my mind on this subject. But I have no view, no design. Your parents, your brothers, you see, inviolably adhere to the articles. But, consider, my dear, were you even allowed to assume the veil, that all such recollections of your former inclination as would be faulty in a married state, would have been equally contrary to your religious vows. Would then the assuming of the veil make you happy?

Don't you hint, Olivia-like, Mrs Beaumont, at culpable inclinations? Do you impute to me culpable inclinations?

I do not, neither do I think you are absolutely as yet an angel. Would you, my dear, refuse your vows to the Count of Belvedere, or any other man, for a certain reason, yet think yourself free enough to give them to your God?

Will this argument hold, Mrs Beaumont, in the present case?

You will call upon ARTICLES, my dear, if I proceed. Your silence, however, is encouraging. What were just now your observations upon the story of Miss Emily Jervois? Is there not a resemblance between her case and yours? Surely, madam, I am not such a girl!--0 Mrs Beaumont, how am I sunk in your opinion !

You are not, my dear Clementina; you cannot, in anybody's. Miss Jervois is under obligations to her guardian, that you are not.

Is that, Mrs Beaumont, all the difference?— That makes none. I am under greater. What are pecuniary obligations to the preservation of a brother's life? To a hundred other instances of goodness?-That girl my pattern! Poor, poor Clementina! How art thou fallen! Let me fly this country.-Now I see, in the strongest light, what a rashness I was guilty of, when I fled to it. How must the Chevalier Grandison himself despise me!-But I tell you, Mrs Beaumont, that I am incapable of a wish, of a thought, contrary to those that determined me when I declined the hand of the best of men. O that I were in my own Italy !-What must young creatures suffer from the love of an improper object, in the opinion of their friends, if, after the sacrifices I have made, I must lie un- · der disgraceful imputations from my gratitude and esteem for the most worthy of human minds?-O how I disdain myself!

It is a generous disdain, my dear Lady Clementina. I end as I began.—I wish you would think of changing your system. But I leave the whole upon your own consideration. Your parents are passive. God direct you. I wish you happy. At present you will not yourself say you are so. Yet nobody controls you, nor wishes to control you. Everybody loves you. Your happiness is the subject of all our prayers. Lady G― believes the conversation ended here.

LADY L—, in Mrs Beaumont's presence, has been just making me a compliment on my generous love, as she calls it, of Lady Clementina, and my security in Sir Charles's affection. Dear madam, said I, where is the merit? A man of such established principles, and a woman of such delicate honour! They both of them move my pity, and engage my love. With regard to Lady Clementina, this is my consolation, that I stood not in her way: that your brother never made his addresses to me, till she, on the noblest motives, left him free to choose the next eligible, as I have reason to think he allowed me to be. And let me tell you, my dear Mrs Beaumont, that in his address to me, he did her justice; and dealt so nobly with me, that had I not before preferred him to all other men, I should have done it then.

Thursday, May 3.

I HAVE received a letter from Sir Charles. Lady Clementina and I were together when it was brought. She seeing whom it came from, and that I meditated the seal with impatience, begged me to read it then, or she would withdraw. I opened it. There were in it, I told

her, the politest remembrances of her, and the other ladies; and read what he wrote of that nature. She looked with so desiring an eye at it, that I said, Were you to read it, madam, you would find him the kindest of men. Sir Charles and I have not a secret between us. But there are in it a passage or two, relating to a certain gentleman, that, were you to read it, might affect you. By the way, she reads English extremely well. And is that, Lady Grandison, your only objection? I should be glad to see, were it not improper, how the politest of men writes to the best of wives.

I gave her the letter.

She had greatness of mind to be delighted with his affectionate style-Tender delicacy! said she, as she read :-Happy, happy Lady Grandison! Tears in her eyes, and clasping her arms about me, Let me thus congratulate you. I acted right in declining his address. I must have thought well of the religion of the man, who could speak, who could write, who could act, who could live, as he does.

I bowed my face on her shoulder. To have expressed but half the admiration I had in my heart of her nobleness of mind, would have been to hint to her the delicate situation she had been in, and to wonder how she could overcome herself.

What follows, said she, sitting down, I presume I may read: for my eye has caught the name of a man my heart can pity.

She read to herself the passage, which is to the following effect: "The person of the poor Count of Belvedere" (Sir Charles writes in the Count's words) " is loitering in town, endea vouring to divert itself there; while his soul is at Grandison-Hall. He cannot think of quitting England, till he has taken leave of Lady Clementina; yet, dreading the pangs he shall feel on that occasion, he cannot bring himself to undergo them.”

The Marquis, the Bishop, Signor Jeronymo, all joined, Sir Charles writes, to console him; yet wished him to pursue his better fortune at Madrid; and the Count thinks of prevailing on himself to accompany them down, in order to take this dreaded farewell. Sir Charles expresses his pity for him; but applauds the whole family for their inviolable adherence to their agreement.

When she read to that place, tears stole down her cheeks-Agreement, said she-Ah, Lady Grandison! It is true, they speak not: but I can read their wishes in their eyes.

She read on to Sir Charles's praises of the Count for his beneficent spirit. The Count, said she, is certainly a good man-But is not his a strange perseverance? Then, giving me the letter, How few of us know, said she, what is best for our

selves! There is a lady in Spain of great honour and merit, who would make him a much happier man, than she can do, on whom he has cast a partial eye. And, besides, there is the poor Laurana

She stopt. I suffered the subject to end there. Sir Charles supposes it will be the latter end of next week before they return. If the Marquis holds his purpose of being present at a ball, to which he is invited by the Venetian ambas sador-Near a fortnight's absence on the whole ! -O dear! O dear!

The following by Lady G

And O dear! O dear! say I! This is Saturday, and not a word more written. So taken up with her walks and walking mate!-Selfish creatures both. It was with difficulty I procured a sight of this letter. No wonder. You see how freely she has treated me in it. I told her, it never would be finished, if I did not finish it for her. Her excuse is, Sir Charles's absence, and that you, madam, charged her not to write by every post, lest an accidental omission should make you uneasy.-Ungrateful for indulgence given! She must therefore let several posts pass -But get thee gone, paper, now. And carry with thee all manner of compliments from Charlotte G- as well as from Here sign it, my sweet sister]

HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCCIII.

LADY GTO MISS SELBY.

Grandison-Hall, Saturday, May 5. YOUR complaining letter* reached me here, Lucy, but this day. I arrived here on Monday afternoon. Ungracious Harriet! She chid me for coming. But I went to church first. What would they have?

My lord and I are one now: If therefore I say, I arrived, it is the same as saying, he did: My little Harriet with us, you may be sure.

But what does the girl complain for? Maiden creatures should send us married women two letters for one. Establish for me this expectation: you will soon yourself be the better for the doctrine.

You tell me, that hardly any of you girls are satisfied with my imperial decision on the appeal laid before me, though supported by the opinions of Mrs Shirley, Lady D—, and every wise woman. I don't care whether you are or not. Sorry chits! you decide among yourselves, and then ask for the opinions of others? What

for? In hopes they will confirm your own; if not, to be saucy, and reject them.

You want me to tell you a hundred thousand things, of what's doing, what's done, what's said, here? Not I. Harriet is writing a long, long letter to her grandmamma, she tells me; and journal-wise.-Let that, when you have it, content you. She says I must not see it. But I will. Something saucy about me in it, I suppose. My brother, and his principal men-guests, are in town. They went on Monday morning. So I have not seen them.-Will not come back till Friday next week. Harriet is impatient for his return. O girls! girls! That a church-ceremony can so soon make such a difference in the same person!—But he is so generously tender of her, that the wonder, in her case, is the less.

Lady Clementina is a noble creature. We are obliged to call both her and Harriet to order, or they would never be asunder. The garden and park are the places in which they most delight to walk. Make Harriet give you the particulars of their conversations.-Then I shall have them. I have demanded them; but she only acquaints me, in general, that she is delighted with Lady Clementina's part in them. The other expresses no less admiration of Harriet's. But, besides that they rob us of their company too often, which is ruder in the mistress of the house than in the guest; Harriet does not enough consider her own circumstances. Their walks are too long. She comes in, and throws herself sometimes into a chair-so tired!-Yet, chidden for her long walks, such engaging conversations !-she cries out.-Heroines both, I suppose; and they are mirrors to each other; each admiring herself in the other. No wonder they are engaged insensibly by a vanity, which carries with it, to each, so generous an appearance; for, all the while, Harriet thinks she is only admiring Clementina; Clementina, that she is applauding Harriet.

Well, Lucy-But I find you will not be Lucy long-Your day, it seems, will soon be fixed: The day, happy may it be! which will set a coronet on your head. A foolish kind of bauble, after all; but it looks not amiss on the outside of one's coach-if the inside contain not-Did I say a monkey, Lucy? But that will not be your case. My lord knows your lord, and esteems him. Lord G's esteem (china and shells out of the question) is not contemptible, I can tell you. His love for his flippant Charlotte made him play monkey-tricks, which lessened him in my eyes: but now I see he is capable of forgetting his butterflies, and esteeming me, I remember my promise, and honour him: Obedience will come-when it can.

Well, but, Lucy, Dr Bartlett knew your Lord Reresby abroad, and speaks well of him. He has wished for this match ever since it was first

mentioned; nay, before it was mentioned-Ever since he was a brideman on my brother's happy day: and you are a good girl, that you have not paraded, as Harriet did, and Clementina does.

Have I any more to say? I think not. I will endeavour to get a sight of what Harriet has written. Let her deny me, if she dare. If that suggests to me a subject which she has not touched upon, well and good: if not, take it for a conclusion, chits, that I wish you all well; and to our venerable Mrs Shirley, and respectable Aunt Selby, and her honest man, health, happiness, and so-forth.

CH. G

LETTER CCCIV.

LADY G TO MISS SELBY.

Wednesday, May 9.

I AM afraid your brother James will terrify you all. Surprising !-I am very angry with him; for, however slight he might make of what I have to tell you, I know that none of you besides will. I therefore dispatch this by a man and horse, on purpose to set your hearts at ease.

The wretch left her in a fainting fit. Had the dear creature ever any of these fits before? But why do I ask? This is easily accounted for: she was over-fatigued with a walk. Against warning, against threatenings, she and Lady Clementina had taken a longer walk than ever they did before, quite to the end of the park, to view some alterations which Sir Charles was making there. They had forgotten that they had the same length to walk back again. Half way on their return, tired, and each accusing herself, and apologizing to the other, they were surprised by a sudden shower of rain; a violent one; a thunder-shower: no shelter: they were forced to run for it towards a distant tree; which, when they approached, they found wet through; as they both were. So they made the best of their way to the house; were seen at a little distance, making the appearance of frighted hares. The servants ran to them with cloaks, which, thrown over their wet clothes, helped to load them. As Harriet entered the hall-door, which leads into the garden, she was surprised with the sight of Sir Charles, entering at the other. She expected him not till Friday or Saturday. Her complexion changed: she sighed, sobbed : her cheeks, her lips turned pale: down she was sinking. My brother was terrified; but he caught her in his arms, and saved her fall.

Lady Land I were together, indulging ourselves with our little nurseries, who were crowing at each other: I singing to both, [By the way, they are surprising infants, when

word was brought, that my brother was come, and Lady Grandison was dying. How were we both terrified! We, in our fright, each popt her pug into the arms of the other, by way of ridding our hands of our own; and the women being not at hand, threw the smiling brats into one cradle; and down hurried we to our Harriet.

In the midst of all this bustle, this wise brother of yours, Lucy, slipt away, without taking leave of us. What, though his hour was fixed, and his post-chaise waiting, could he not have staid one half hour? O these inconsiderate, hair-brained-Don't be angry, Lucy, he has vexed us for you. I should otherwise have left to herself the account of her indisposition and recovery. She has got cold: so has her sisterexcellence, as my brother justly calls her. Is it to be wondered at ?-She was feverish all day yesterday; but made slight of it; and would have come down to dinner; but we would not permit her to leave her chamber.

How was Lady Clementina affected! she laid all at her own door: and last night, Harriet being still more feverish, we all talked ourselves into a thousand panics. Lady Clementina was not to be pacified.

To-day, she is, in a manner, quite well; and we are all joy upon it. But she shall never again do the honours of the park to Lady Clementina. Trust me for that, grandmamma Shirley; and expect a letter from the dear creature herself by the post. Adieu, adieu, Lucy, everybody, in a violent hurry subscribes your CHARLOTTE G

P.S.-My hurry is owing only to the demands of my marmoset upon me. To nothing else, upon my honour! For we are all safe, serene, and so forth.

LETTER CCCV.

LADY GRANDISON TO MRS SHIRLEY.

Grandison-Hall, Friday, May 11. I AM Sorry, my dearest grandmamma, you have all been so much alarmed by an indisposition which is already gone off. My cousin James, foolish youth! I wish he had not called upon us on his return from Portsmouth, or that he had staid at Grandison-Hall till now. Lady Ghas given you, in her lively way, an account of the girlish inconsideration, which might have been attended with a fever, had not Mr Lowther been at hand; who thought it advisable that I should lose blood. But it was the joy on seeing Sir Charles after an absence of eight days, and several days sooner than I had expected that pleasure, which overcame me.

Never, never was there so tender, so affectionate, so indulgent a husband!-Lady G

has told you that I fainted away-When recovered, I found myself in his arms; all our friends assembled round me; every one expressing such a tender concern.

Harriet, be grateful! But canst thou be enough so? How art thou beloved of hearts the most worthy!-And what new proofs hast thou received of that love of all other the dearest! Every hour do I experience some new instance of his tender goodness: he stirred not from my chamber for half an hour together, for two whole days and nights. All the rest he took was in a chair by my bed-side; and very little was his rest: Yet, blessed be God! his health suffered not. Every cordial, every medicine, did he administer to me with his own hands. He regarded not anybody but his Harriet. The world, he told me, was nothing to him without his Harriet. So amiable has he appeared in this new light, not in my fond eyes only, but in those of all here; who are continually congratulating me upon it; and every one telling me little circumstances of his kind attention, and anxious fondness, as some happened to observe one, some another, that, though I wanted not proofs before of his affection for me, I cannot account my indisposition an unhappiness; especially as it has gone off without the consequences, of which you were so very apprehensive." Dear sir, I obey you: but indeed, indeed, writing to my grandmamma does me good. But I obey.' Only, let thus far as I have written, be dispatched to my Northamptonshire friends,

From their ever-dutiful

HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCCVI.

LADY GRANDISON,

[In continuation.]

Saturday Night.

I HAVE a constant attendant in Lady Clementina. She was not to be consoled when I was at worst. Wringing her hands. O that she had never come to England! was her frequent exclamation: and they apprehended, that her mind would be again disturbed. She has not yet recovered her former sedateness. She gets by herself, when she is not with me. She is often in tears, and wishes herself in Italy. Sir Charles is concerned for her. She has something upon her mind, he says; and asked me, if she had not disclosed it to me? He wondered she had not; expressing himself with pleasure on the confidence each has in the other.

Sunday, May 13. SIGNOR JERONYMO has been pitying to me the Count of Belvedere. The poor man corld