thing for himself. You, my dear, we look upon as a high reward for his many great and good actions. But, as he is a man who has a deep fense of favours granted, and values not the bleffing the more (when it ought to be within his reach) because it is dear, as is the cafe of the forry fellows in general, I would have you confider of it-that's all.

The doctor tells me alfo, that the wicked Bolton's ward is dead, and that every thing is concluded to Sir Charles's fatisfaction with him, and the Mansfields (reinftated in all their rights) are once more a happy family.

Sir Hargrave is in a lamentable way: Dr Bartlett has great compaffion for him. Would you have me pity him, Harriet?You would, you fay -Well then I'll try for it. As it was by his means you and we, and my brother, came acquainted, I think I may. He is to be brought to town.

Poor Sir Harry Beauchamp!, He is paft recovery. Had the phyficians given him over when they firft undertook him, he might, they fay, have had a chance for it.

I told you that Emily's mother was turned Methodist. She has converted her husband. A ftrange alteration! But it is natural for fuch fort of people to pass from one extreme to another. Emily every now and then vifits them. They are ready to worship her for her duty and goodness. She is a lovely girl: She every day improves in her perfon, as well as in her mind. She is fometimes with me, fometimes with Lady L. fometimes with aunt Eleanor, fometimes with your Mrs Reeves-We are ready to fight for her: But you will foon rob alt of us. She is preparing for her journey to you. Poor girl! I pity her. Such a conflict in her mind between her love of you and tenderness for her guardian: Her Anne has confeffed to me, that she weeps one half of the night, yet forces herself to

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be lively in company-after the example of Mifs. Byron, the fays, when the vifited you at Selbyhoufe. I hope, my dear, all will be right. But to go to live with a beloved object—I don't underftand it. You, Harriet, may. I never was in love, God help me!

I am afraid the dear girl does too much for her mother. As they have fo handfome an annuity, 400 l. a-year, fo much beyond their expectations, I think the fhould not give, nor fhould they receive any thing confiderable of her, without her guardian's knowledge. She is laying out a great deal and her guarof money in new cloaths, to do you dian credit-on your nuptials, poor thing! fhe fays, with tears in her eyes-but whether of joy, or fenfibility, it is hard to decide; but I believe of both.

-I

What makes me imagine fhe does more than fhe fhould is, that a week ago fhe borrowed fifty gui neas of me, and but yesterday came to mefhould do a very wrong thing, faid fhe, blufbing up to the ears, fhould I ask Lady L. to lend me a fum of money till my next quarter comes due, after I made myself your debtor fo lately: But if you could lend me thirty or forty guineas more, you would do me a great favour.

My dear! faid I; and stared at her.

Don't question, don't chide me this one time. I never will run in debt again: I hate to be in debt. But you have bid me tell you all my wants.. I will not, my love, fay another word. I will fetch you fifty guineas more.

More, my dear Lady G.! that is a pretty rub: But I will always, for the future, be within bounds: And don't let my guardian know it-He will kilf me by his generofity, yet perhaps in his own heart wonder what I did with my money. If he thought ill of me, or that I was extravagant, it would break my heart.

Only

Only, my dear, faid I, remember that 400%. ayear- -Mrs O'Hara cannot want any thing to be done for her now.

Don't call her Mrs O'Hara! She is very good: Call her my mother.

I kiffed the fweet gir!, and fetched her the other fifty guineas.

I thought it not amifs to give you this hint, my dear, against the goes down to you. But do you think it right, after all, to have her with my brother and you?

Lady L. keeps clofe-She fafts, cries, prays, is vaftly apprehenfive: She makes me uneafy for her and myself. These vile men! I believe I fhall hate them all. Did they partake-But not half fo grateful as the blackbirds; they rather look big with infolence, than perch near, and fing a fong to comfort the poor fouls they have fo grievously mortified. Other birds, as I have obferved (fpar rows in particular), fit hour and hour, he's and fhe's in turn; and I have feen the hen, when the rogue has ftaid too long, rattle at him, while he circles about her with fweeping wings, and displayed plumage, his head and breast of various dyes, ardently fhining, Peep, peep, peep; as much as to fay, I beg your pardon, love-F was forced to go a great way off for my dinner. -Sirrr-rah! I have thought she has faid, in an unforgiving accent-Do your duty now-Sit clofe -Peep, peep, peep-I will, I will, I will-Away fhe has fkimined, and returned to relieve him when she thought fit.

Don't laugh at us, Harriet, in our mortified ftate (Begone, wretch-What have I done, madam? ftaring! What have you done!-My forry creature came in wheedling, courting, just as I was pitying two meek fifters: Was it not enough to vex one?)-Don't laugh at us, I fay—If you do!

---may

-may my brother, all in good time, avenge us on you, prays in malice

CHARLOTTE G.

FIE

LETTER X.

Mifs BYRON, To Lady G.

१

Wedn. Evening, Oct. 25. IE upon you, Lady G.! What a letter have you written! There is no feparating the good from the bad in it! With what dangerous talents are you entrusted! and what use do you make of them! I have written two long letters, continuing my narrative of our proceedings; but I must take you to fevere talk for this before me; and this and they fhall go together!

Wicked wit! What a foe art thou to decent chearfulnefs!-In a woman's hand fuch a weapon! What might we not expect from it, were it in a man's? How you justify the very creatures of that fex, whom you would be thought to despife! ·

But you fay, you would not allow in a man the liberties you yourself take with your own fex. How can you, my dear, be fo partial to your faults, yet own them to be fuch? Would you rank with the worst of finners? They do just to.

I

may be a fool: may be inconfiftent: I may not know how with a grace to give effect to my own withes I may be able to advife better than act -Moit pragmatical creatures think they can be counfellors in another's cafe, while their own affairs, as my uncle would fay, lie at fixes and fevens. But how does this excule your fredoms with your whole fex-with the innocents of it more particularly?

Let

Let me fay, my dear, that you take odious, yes, odious liberties; I won't recall the word: Liberties which I cannot, though to fhame you, repeat. Fie upon you Charlotte!

And yet you say, that neither you nor Lady L. know how to blame me much, though, the man confidered, you will not totally acquit me of parade; and in another place, that fo far as we have proceeded, we have behaved tolerably. Why, then, all this riot?—yes, riot, Charlotte! against us, and againft our fex! What, but for riot's fake?

"The humour upon you!"-The humour is upon you, with a witnefs! " Hang you, if you care!"-But, my dear, it would be more to your credit if you did care; and if you checked the wicked humour.Do you think nobody but you has fuch talents? Fain would I lower you, fince, as it is evident, you take pride in your licenceForgive me, my dear.-Yet I will not fay half I think of your wicked wit. Think you, that there are not many who could be as fmart, as surprising, as you, were they to indulge a vein of what you call humour? Do you think your brother is not one? Would he not be too hard for you at your own weapons? Has he not convinced you that he could? But he, a man, can check the overflowing freedom.

But if I have fet out wrong with your brother, I will do my endeavour to recover my path. You greatly oblige me with your conducting hand: But what neceflity was there for you to lead me through briars and thorns, and to plunge me into two or three dirty puddles, in order to put me into the right path, when it lay before you in a direct line, without going a bow-thot about?

Be pleased, however, to confider situation on my fide, as well as on your brother's: I might be fomewhat excufeable for my aukwardness, perhaps,

were