paper reminds me that I have written a monstrous letter-I will therefore, with a new sheet, begin a new one. Only adding this, that I am, and ever will be, Your affectionate HARRIET BYRON. P. S. Well, but what shall I do now?-I have just received my uncle's letter. And, after his charge upon me of vanity and pride, will my parade, as above, stand me in any stead? I must trust to it. Only one word to my dear and ever-honoured uncle-Don't you, sir, impute to me a belief of the truth of those extravagant compliments made by men professing love to me; and I will not wish you to think me one bit the wiser, the handsomer, the better, for them, than I was before. LETTER IX. MISS BYRON. [In continuation.] Thursday, Feb. 2. THE very next morning Sir Rowland himself paid his respects to Mr Reeves. The knight, before he would open himself very freely as to the business he came upon, desired that he might have an opportunity to see me. I knew nothing of him, nor of his business. We were just going to breakfast. Miss Allestree, Miss Bramber, and Miss Dolyns, a young lady of merit, were with us. Just as we had taken our seats, Mr Reeves introduced Sir Rowland, but let him not know which was Miss Byron. He did nothing, at first sitting down, but peer in our faces by turns; and fixing his eye upon Miss Allestree, he jogged Mr Reeves with his elbow-Hey, sir? audibly whispered he. Mr Reeves was silent. Sir Rowland, who is short-sighted, then looked under his bent brows, at Miss Bramber; then at Miss Dolyns; and then at me-Hey, sir? whispered he again. He sat out the first dish of tea with an impatience equal, as it seemed, to his uncertainty. And at last taking Mr Reeves by one of his buttons, desired a word with him. They withdrew together; and the knight not quitting hold of Mr Reeves's button, Ad's-my-life, sir, said he, I hope I am right. I love my nephew as I love myself. I live but for him. He was ever dutiful to me, his uncle. If that be Miss Byron who sits on the right hand of your lady, with the countenance of an angel, her eyes sparkling with good humour, and blooming as a May morning, the business is done. I give my consent. Although I heard not a word pass from her lips, I am sure she is all intelligence. My boy shall have her. The other young ladies are agreeable; but if this be the lady my kinsman is in love with, he shall have her. How will she outshine all our Caermarthen ladies! and yet we have charming girls in Caermarthen!-Am I, or am I not right, Mr Reeves, as to my nephew's flame, as they call it ? The lady you describe, Sir Rowland, is Miss Byron. And then Mr Reeves, in his usual partial manner, let his heart overflow at his lips in my favour. Thank God! thank God! said the knight. Let us return. Let us go in again. I will say something to her to make her speak: but not a word to dash her. I expect her voice to be music, if it be as harmonious as the rest of her. By the softness or harshness of the voice, let me tell you, Mr Reeves, I form a judgment of the heart, and soul, and manners, of a lady. 'Tis a criterion, as they call it, of my own; and I am hardly ever mistaken. Let us go in again, I pray ye. They returned, and took their seats; the knight making an awkward apology for taking my cousin out. Sir Rowland, his forehead smoothed, and his face shining, sat swelling, as big with meaning, yet not knowing how to begin. Mrs Reeves and Miss Allestree were talking at the re-entrance of the gentlemen. Sir Rowland thought he must say something, however distant from his main purpose. Breaking silence, therefore; You, ladies, seemed to be deep in discourse when we came in. Whatever were your subject, I beg you will resume it. They had finished, they assured him, what they had to say. Sir Rowland seemed still at a loss. He hemmed three times, and looked at me with particular kindness. Mr Reeves then, in pity to his fulness, asked him, how long he proposed to stay in town? He had thought, he said, to have set out in a week; but something had happened, which he believed could not be completed under a fortnight. Yet I want to be down, said he; for I had just finished, as I came up, the new-built house I design to present to my nephew when he marries. I pretend, plain man as I am, to be a judge, both of taste and elegance. (Sir Rowland was now set a going.) All I wish for, is to see him happily settled. Ah, ladies! that I need not go farther than this table for a wife for my boy! We all smiled, and looked upon each other. You young ladies, proceeded he, have great advantages in certain cases over us men; and this, (which I little thought of till it came to be my own case,) whether we speak for our kindred or for ourselves. But will you, madam, to Mrs Reeves; will you, sir, to Mr Reeves; answer my questions-as to these ladies ?—I must have a niece among them. My nephew, though I say it, is one whom any lady may love: and as for fortune, let me alone to make him, in addition to his own, all clear as the sun, worthy of any woman's acceptance, though she were a duchess. We were all silent, and smiled upon one another. What I would ask then, is, which of the ladies before me-Mercy! I believe, by their smiling, and by their pretty looks, they are none of them engaged. I will begin with the young lady on your right hand. She looks so lovely, so good-natured, and so condescending!-Mercy! what an open forehead !-Hem !-Forgive me, madam; but I believe you would not disdain to answer my question yourself-Are you, madam, are you absolutely and bona fide disengaged? or are you not? As this, Sir Rowland, answered I, is a question I can best resolve, I frankly own, that I am disengaged. Charming! charming!-Mercy! Why, now, what a noble frankness in that answer!-No jesting matter! You may smile, ladies.—I hope, madam, you say true: I hope I may rely upon it, that your affections are not engaged. You may, Sir Rowland. I do not love, even in jest, to be guilty of an untruth. Admirable-But let me tell you, madam, that I hope you will not many days have this to say. Ad's-my-life! sweet soul! how I rejoice to see that charming flush in the finest cheek in the world! But Heaven forbid that I should dash so sweet a creature!-Well, but now there is no going farther. Excuse me, ladies; I mean not a slight to any of you; but now, you know, there is no going farther. And will you, madam, permit me to introduce to you, as a lover, as a humble servant, a very proper and agreeable young man? Let me introduce him: he is my nephew. Your looks are all graciousness. Perhaps you have seen him: and if you are really disengaged, you can have no objection to him; of that I am confident. And I am told, that you have nobody that either can or will control you. The more controlable for that very reason, Sir Rowland. Ad's-my-life, I like your answer. Why, madam, you must be full as good as you look to be. I wish I were a young man myself for your sake! But tell me, madam, will you permit a visit from my nephew this afternoon?-Come, come, dear young lady, be as gracious as you look to be. Fortune must do. Had you not a shilling, I should rejoice in such a niece; and that is more than I ever said in my life before. My nephew is a sober man, a modest man. He has a good estate of his own: a clear 2000l. ayear. I will add to it in my life-time as much Be all this good company witnesses for me. I am no flincher. It is well known the word of Sir Rowland Meredith is as good as his more. But, Sir Rowland, said I, there are proverbs that may be set against your proverb. You hint that I have seen the gentlemen: now, I have never yet seen the man whose addresses I could encourage. O, I like you the better for that. None but the giddy love at first sight. Ad's-my-life, you would have been snapt up before now, young as you are, could you easily have returned love for love. Why, madam, you cannot be above sixteen ? O, Sir Rowland you are mistaken. Cheerfulness, and a contented mind, make a difference to advantage of half a dozen years at any time. I am much nearer twenty-one than nineteen, I assure you. Nearer to twenty-one than nineteen, and yet so freely tell your age, without asking! Miss Byron, Sir Rowland, said Mrs Reeves, is young enough at twenty, surely, to own her age. True, madam; but at twenty, if not before, time always stands still with women. A lady's age, once known, will be always remembered; and that more for spite than love. At twentyeight or thirty, I believe most ladies are willing to strike off half a dozen years at least-And yet, and yet (smiling, and looking arch,) I have always said, (pardon me, ladies,) that it is a sign when women are so desirous to conceal their age, that they think they shall be good for nothing when in years. Ah, ladies! shaking his head, and laughing, women don't think of that. But how I admire you, madam, for your frankness! Would to the Lord you were twentyfour! I would have no woman marry under twenty-four; and that, let me tell you, ladies, for the following reasons-standing up, and putting the fore-finger of his right hand, extended with a flourish, upon the thumb of his left. O, Sir Rowland! I doubt not but you can give very good reasons. And I assure you, I intend not to marry on the wrong side, as I call it, of twenty-four. Admirable, by mercy! but that won't do neither. The man lives not, young lady, who will stay your time, if he can have you at his. I love your noble frankness. Then such sweetness of countenance, (sitting down, and audibly whispering, and jogging my cousin with his elbow,) such dove-like eyes, daring to tell all that is in the honest heart!—I am a physiognomist, madam, (raising his voice to me.) Ads-my-life, you are a perfect paragon! Say you will encourage my boy, or you will be worse off: for, (standing up again) I will come and court you myself. A good estate gives a man confidence; and, when I set about it-Hum!-(one hand stuck in his side; flourishing with the other) no woman yet, I do assure you,-ever won my heart as you have done. O, Sir Rowland, I thought you were too wise to be swayed by first impressions; none but the giddy, you know, love at first sight. Admirable! admirable, indeed! I knew you had wit at will; and I am sure you have wisdom. Know you, ladies, that wit and wisdom are two different things, and are very rarely seen together? Plain man as I appear to be, (looking on himself first on one side, then on the other, and unbuttoning his coat two buttons to let a gold braid appear upon his waistcoat,) I can tell ye, I have not lived all this time for nothing. I am considered in Wales-Hem!-But I will not praise myself. Ad's-my-life! how do this young lady's perfections run me all into tongue! But I see you all respect her as well as I; so I need not make apology to the rest of you young ladies, for the distinction paid to her. I wish I had as many nephews as there are ladies of you disengaged; by mercy, we would be all of kin. Thank you, Sir Rowland, said each of the young ladies, smiling, and diverted at his oddity. But as to my observation, continued the knight, that none but the giddy love at first sight; there is no general rule without exception, you know; every man must love you at first sight. Do I not love you myself? and yet never did I see you before, nor anybody like you. You know not what you do, Sir Rowland, to raise thus the vanity of a poor girl. How may you make conceit and pride run away with her, till she become contemptible for both in the eye of every person whose good opinion is worth cultivating! Ad's-my-life, that's prettily said! But let me tell you, that the she who can give this caution in the midst of her praisings, can be in no danger of being run away with by her vanity. Why, madam! you extort praises from me! I never ran on so glibly in praise of mortal woman before. You must cease to look, to smile, to speak, I can tell you, if you would have me cease to praise you! Tis well you are not a young man, Sir Rowland, said Miss Allestree." You seem to have the art of engaging a woman's attention. You seem to know how to turn her own artillery ágainst her; and, as your sex generally do, to exalt her in courtship, that you may have it in your power to abase her afterwards. Why, madam, I must own, that we men live to sixty before we know how to deal with you ladies, or with the world either; and then we are not fit to engage with the one, and are ready to quit the other. An old head upon a young pair of shoulders would make rare work among ye. But to the main point (looking very kindly on me); I ask no questions about you, madam. Fortune is not to be mentioned. I want you not to have any. Not that the lady is the worse for having a fortune; and a man may stand a chance for as good a wife among those who have fortunes, as among those who have none. I adore you for your frankness of heart. Be all of a piece now, I beseech you. You are disengaged, you say; will you admit of a visit from my nephew? My boy may be bashful. True love is always modest and diffident. You don't look as if you would dislike a man for being modest. And I will come along with him myself. And then the old knight looked important, as one who, if he lent his head to his nephew's shoulders, had no doubt of succeeding. What, Sir Rowland! admit of a visit from your nephew, in order to engage him in a three years' courtship? I have told you that I intend not to marry till I am twenty-four. Twenty-four, I must own, is the age of marriage I should choose for a lady; and for the reasons aforesaid. But now I think of it, I did not tell you my reasons. These be they Down went his cup and saucer; up went his left hand, ready spread, and his crooked finger of his right hand, as ready to enumerate. No doubt, Sir Rowland, you have very good reasons. But, madam, you must hear them-and I shall prove I am convinced, Sir Rowland, that twentyfour is an age early enough. But I shall prove, madam, that you at twenty, or at twenty-one Enough, enough, Sir Rowland; what need of proof when one is convinced? But you know not, madam, what I was driving at Well but, Sir Rowland, said Miss Bramber, will not the reasons you could give for the proper age at twenty-four, make against your wishes in this case? They will make against them, madam, in general cases; but in this particular case they will make for me; for the lady before me is Not in my opinion, perhaps, Sir Rowland, will your reasons make for you; and then your exception in my favour will signify nothing.And, besides, you must know, that I never can accept of a compliment that is made me at the expense of my sex. Well then, madam, I hope you forbid me in favour to my plea. You are loath to hear anything for twenty-four against twenty-one, I hope? That is another point, Sir Rowland. Why, madam, you seem to be afraid of hearing my reasons. No man living knows better than I, how to behave in ladies' company. I believe I should not be so little of a gentleman, as to offend the nicest ear. No need indeed! no need indeed! looking archly; ladies on certain subjects are very quick That is to say, Sir Rowland, interrupted Mrs Reeves, that modesty is easily alarmed. If anything is said, or implied, upon certain subjects, that you would not be thought to understand, ladies know how to be ignorant. And then he laughed. Undoubtedly, Sir Rowland, said I, such company as this need not be apprehensive, that a gentleman like you should say anything unsuitable to it. But do you really think affected ignorance can be ever graceful, or a proof of a true delicacy? Let me rather say, that a woman of virtue would be wanting to her character, if she had not courage enough to express her resentment of any discourse that is meant as an insult upon modesty. Admirably said again! But men will sometimes forget, that there are ladies in company. Very favourably put for the men, Sir Rowland. But pardon me, if I own, that I should have a mean opinion of a man, who allowed himself to talk even to men what a woman might not hear. A pure heart, whether in man or woman, will be always, in every company, on every occasion, pure. Ad's-my-life, you have excellent notions, madam! I wanted to hear you speak just now; and now you make me, and every one else, silent. Twenty-one! why, what you say would shame sixty-one. You must have kept excellent company all your life! Mercy! if ever I heard the like from a lady so young! What a glory you reflect back upon all who had any hand in your education! Why was I not born within the past thirty years? I might then have had some hopes of you myself! And this brings me to my former subject, of my nephew. But, Mr Reeves, one word with you, Mr Reeves. I beg your pardon, ladies; but the importance of the matter will excuse me ; and I must get out of town as soon as I can. One word with you, Mr Reeves. The gentlemen withdrew together; for breakfast by this time was over. And then the knight opened all his heart to Mr Reeves, and besought his interest. He would afterwards have obtained an audience, as he called it, of me; but the three young ladies having taken leave of us, and Mrs Reeves and I being retired to dress, I excused myself. He then desired leave to attend me to-morrow evening; but Mr Reeves pleading engagements till Monday evening, he besought him to indulge him with his interest in that long gap of time, as he called it, and for my being then in the way. And thus, Lucy, have I given you an ample account of what has passed with regard to this new servant; as gentlemen call themselves, in order to become our masters. 'Tis now Friday morning. We are just setting out to dine with Lady Betty. If the day furnishes me with any amusing materials for my next packet, its agreeableness will be doubled to Your ever affectionate HARRIET BYRON. LETTER X. MISS BYRON. [In continuation.] Friday Night. SOME amusement, my Lucy, the day has afforded. Indeed more than I could have wished. A large packet, however, for Selby-house. Lady Betty received us most politely. She had company with her, to whom she introduced us, and presented me in a very advantageous character. Shall I tell you how their first appearance struck me, and what I have since heard and observed of them? The first I shall mention was Miss Cantillon; very pretty; but visibly proud, affected, and conceited. The second, Miss Clements; plain ; but of a fine understanding, improved by reading; and who, having no personal advantages to be vain of, has, by the cultivation of her mind, obtained a preference in every one's opinion over the fair Cantillon. The third was Miss Barnevelt, a lady of masculine features, and whose mind belied not those features; for she has the character of being loud, bold, free, even fierce when opposed; and affects at all times such airs of contempt of her own sex, that one almost wonders at her condescending to wear petticoats. The gentlemen's names were Walden and Singleton; the first, an Oxford scholar of family and fortune; but quaint and opinionated, despising every one who has not had the benefit of an university education. Mr Singleton is a harmless man; who is, it seems, the object of more ridicule, even down to his very name, among all his acquaintance, than I think he by any means ought, considering the apparent inoffensiveness of the man, who did not give himself his intellects; and his constant good humour, which might entitle him to better quarter; the rather too, as he has one point of knowledge, which those who think themselves his superiors in understanding, do not always attain, the knowledge of himself; for he is humble, modest, ready to confess an inferiority to every one; and as laughing at a jest is by some taken for high applause, he is ever the first to bestow that commendation on what others say; though, it must be owned, he now and then mistakes for a jest what is none; which, however, may be generally more the fault of the speakers than of Mr Singleton; since he takes his cue from their smiles, especially when those are seconded by the laugh of one of whom he has a good opinion. Mr Singleton is in possession of a good estate, which makes amends for many defects. He has a turn, it is said, to the well-managing of it; and nobody understands his own interest better than he; by which knowledge, he has opportunities to lay obligations upon many of those, who behind his back think themselves entitled, by their supposed superior sense, to deride him; and he is ready enough to oblige in this way; but it is always on such securities, that he has never given cause for spendthrifts to laugh at him on that account. It is thought that the friends of the fair Cantillon would not be averse to an alliance with this gentleman; while I, were I his sister, should rather wish, that he had so much wisdom in his weakness, as to devote himself to the worthier Pulcheria Clements, (Lady Betty's wish as well as mine) whose fortune, though not despicable, and whose humbler views, would make her think herself repaid, by his fortune, the obligation she would lay him under by her acceptance of him. Nobody, it seems, thinks of a husband for Miss Barnevelt. She is sneeringly spoken of rather as a young fellow, than as a woman; and who will one day look out for a wife for herself. One reason, indeed, she everywhere gives, for being satisfied with being a woman; which is, that she cannot be married to a WOMAN. An odd creature, my dear. But see what women get by going out of character. Like the bats in the fable, they are looked upon as mortals of a doubtful species, hardly owned by either, and laughed at by both. This was the company, and all the company, besides us, that Lady Betty expected. But mutual civilities had hardly passed, when Lady Betty, having been called out, returned, introducing, as a gentleman who would be acceptable to every one, Sir Hargrave Pollexfen. He is, whispered she to me, as he saluted the rest of the company, in a very gallant manner, a young baronet of a very large estate, the greatest part of which has lately come to him by the death of a grandmother, and two uncles, all very rich. When he was presented to me, by name, and I to him; I think myself very happy, said he, in being admitted to the presence of a young lady so celebrated for her graces of person and mind. Then addressing himself to Lady Betty, Much did I hear, when I was at the last Northampton races, of Miss Byron ; but little did I expect to find report fall so short of what I see. Miss Cantillon bridled, played with her fan, and looked as if she thought herself slighted; a little scorn intermingled with the airs she gave herself. Miss Clements smiled, and looked pleased, as if she enjoyed, good-naturedly, a compliment made to one of the sex which she adorns by the goodness of her heart. Miss Barnevelt said, she had, from the moment I first entered, beheld me with the eye of a lover. And freely taking my hand, squeezed it. Charming creature! said she, as if addressing a country innocent, and perhaps expecting me to be covered with blushes and confusion. The baronet excusing himself to Lady Betty, assured her, that she must place this his bold intrusion to the account of Miss Byron, he having been told that she was to be there. Whatever were his motive, Lady Betty said, he did her a favour; and she was sure the whole company would think themselves doubly obliged to Miss Byron. The student looked as if he thought himself eclipsed by Sir Hargrave, and as if, in revenge, he was putting his fine speeches into Latin, and trying them by the rules of grammar; a broken sentence from a classic author bursting from his lips; and, at last standing up, half on tip-toe, (as if he wanted to look down upon the baronet,) he stuck one hand in his side, and passed by him, casting a contemptuous eye on his gaudy dress. Mr Singleton smiled, and looked as if delighted with all he saw and heard. Once, indeed, he tried to speak; his mouth actually opened, to give passage to his words; as sometimes seems to be his way before the words are quite ready; but he sat down satisfied with the effort. It is true, people who do not make themselves contemptible by affectation should not be despised. Poor and rich, wise and unwise, we are all links of the same great chain. And you must tell me, my dear, if I, in endeavouring to give true descriptions of the persons I see, incur the censure I pass on others who despise any one for the defects they cannot help. Will you forgive me, my dear, if I make this letter as long as my last? No, say. Well then, I thank you for a freedom so consistent with our friendship; and conclude with assurances, that I am, and ever will be, Most affectionately yours, LETTER XI. MISS BYRON. [In continuation.] IT was convenient to me, Lucy, to break off where I did in my last; else I should not have been so very self-denying as to suppose you had no curiosity to hear, what undoubtedly I wanted to tell. Two girls talking over a new set of company, would my uncle Selby say, are not apt to break off very abruptly; not she especially of the two, who has found out a fair excuse |