lancholy story, thought, not unjustly. If she can be induced to love, to honour, the man of her choice, as much as she loves, honours, and admires, Lady Clementina; the happy man will have reason to be satisfied. You see, sir, that we, who were able to give a preference to the same lady against ourselves, Harriet Byron is ourself, can have no scruples on your giving it to the same incomparable woman. May that lady be happy! If she were not to be so, and her unhappiness were to be owing to our happiness; that, dear sir, would be all that could pain the hearts of any of us, on an occasion so very agreeable to

Your sincere friend and servant,
HENRIETTA SHIRLEY.

BUT, my dear Lady G——, does your brother tell you and Lady L nothing of his intentions? Why, if he does, do not you?—But I can have no doubt. Is not the man Sir Charles Grandison? And yet, methinks, I want to know what the contents of his next letters from Italy will be.

You will have no scruple, my dear Lady G, to shew my whole letter to Lady L—, and, if you please, to my Emily-But only mention the contents, in your own way, to the gentlemen. I beg you will yourself shew it to Mrs Reeves: she will rejoice in her prognostications. Use that word to her: she will understand you. Your brother must now, less than ever, see what I write. I depend upon your discretion, my dear Lady G

HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER CCXI.

LADY G TO MISS BYRON.

Wednesday, Sept. 23. EXCELLENT Mrs Shirley! Incomparable woman! how I love her! If I were such an excellent ancient, I would no more wish to be young, than she has so often told us, she does. What my brother once said, and you once wrote to your Lucy, is true; (in her case at least ;) that the matronly and advanced time of life, in a woman, is far from being the least eligible part of it; especially, I may add, when health and a good conscience accompany it. What a spirit does she, at her time of life, write with!-But her heart is in her subject-I hope I may say that, Harriet, without offending you.

Not a word did my brother speak of his intention, till he received that letter: and then he invited Lady Land me, and our two honest men, to afternoon tea with him-CO, but I have not reckoned with you for your saucy rebukes in your last of the 7th; I owe you a

spite for it; and, Harriet, depend on paymentWhat was I writing ?-I have it]-And when tea was over, he, without a blush, without looking down, as a girl would do in this situation[But why so, Harriet? Is a woman, on these occasions, to act a part as if she supposed herself to be the greatest gainer by matrimony; and therefore was ashamed of consenting to accept of an honourable offer? As if, in other words, she was to be the self-denying receiver rather than conferer of an obligation ?—Lord, how we ramble-headed creatures break in upon ourselves!-with a good grace he told us of his intention to marry; of his apparition to Mrs Shirley; of his sudden vanishing; and all that -And then he produced Mrs Shirley's letter, but just received.

And do you think we were not overjoyed?— Indeed we were. We congratulated him: we congratulated each other: Lord L- looked as he did when Caroline gave him his happy day: Lord G- could not keep his seat: he was tipsy, poor man, with his joy: Aunt Nell pranked herself, stroked her ribbons of pink and yellow, and chuckled and mumped for joy, that her nephew at last would not go out of old England for a wife. She was mightily pleased too with Mrs Shirley's letter. It was just such a one as she herself would have written upon the

occasion.

I posted afterwards to Mrs Reeves, to shew her, as you requested, your letter: and when we had read it, there was, dear madam, and, dear sir: and now this, and now that; and thank God-three times in a breath; and we were cousins, and cousins, and cousins: and, O blessed! and, O be joyful!—And, hail the day!— And, God grant it to be a short one!-And how will Harriet answer to the question? Will not her frankness be tried? He despises affectation: so he thinks does she!-Good sirs! and, O dears!-How things are brought about!-0 my Harriet, you never heard or saw such congratulations between three gossips, as were between our two cousins Reeves and me: and not a little did the good woman pride herself in her prognostics; for she explained that matter to

me.

Dr Bartlett is at Grandison-Hall, with our unhappy cousin. How will the good man rejoice! Now you will ask, what became of Emily ?

By the way, do you know that Mrs O'Hara is turned Methodist? True as you are alive. And she labours hard to convert her husband. Thank God she is anything that is serious! Those people have really great merit with me, in her conversion-I am sorry that our own clergy are not as zealously in earnest as they. They have, really, my dear, if we may believe Aunt Eleanor, given a face of religion to subterranean colliers, tinners, and the most profligate of men, who hardly ever before heard either of the word, or thing. But I am not turning

Methodist, Harriet. No, you will not suspect

me.

Now, Emily, who is at present my visitor, had asked leave, before my brother's invitation, (and was gone, my Jenny attending her,) to visit her mother, who is not well. My brother was engaged to sup abroad with some of the Danbys, I believe: I therefore made Lord and Lady L cousin Reeves and cousin Reeves, and my Aunt Grandison, sup with me.

Emily was at home before me-Ah, the poor Emily!-I'll tell you how it was between usMy lovely girl, my dear Emily, said I, I have good news to tell you, about Miss ByronO, thank God!-And is she well? Pray, madam, tell me, tell me ; I long to hear good news of my dear Miss Byron.

SO

Why, she will shortly be married, Emily! Married, madam !

Yes, my love! And to your guardian, child!To my guardian, madam!—Well, but I hope

I then gave her a few particulars.

The dear girl tried to be joyful, and burst into tears!

Why weeps my girl?-O fie! are you sorry that Miss Byron will have your guardian? I thought you loved Miss Byron.

So I do, madam, as my ownself, and more than myself, if possible-But the surprise, madam-Indeed I am glad!-What makes me such a fool? Indeed I am glad!-What ails me, to cry, I wonder! It is what I wished, what I prayed for, night and day. Dear madam, don't tell anybody. I am ashamed of myself.

The sweet April-faced girl then smiled through her tears.

I was charmed with her innocent sensibility; and if you are not, I shall think less of you than ever I did yet.

Dear madam, said she, permit me to withdraw for a few minutes: must have my cry out And I shall then be all joy and gladness.

She tript away; and in half an hour came down to me with quite another face.

Lady Lwas then with me. I had told her of the girl's emotion. We are equally lovers of you, my dear, said I; you need not be afraid of Lady L

And have you told, madam?-Well, but I am not a hypocrite. What a strange thing! I who have always been so much afraid of another lady, for Miss Byron's sake, to be so oddly affected, as if I were sorry!-Indeed I rejoice.But if you tell Miss Byron, she won't love me: she won't let me live with her and my guardian, when she is happy, and has made him so. And what shall I do then? for I have set my heart upon it.

Miss Byron, my dear, loves you so well, that she will not be able to deny you anything your heart is set upon, that is in her power to grant. God bless Miss Byron as I love her, and she

will be the happiest of women !-But what was the matter with me ?-Yet I believe I knowMy poor mother had been crying sadly to me, for her past unhappy life. She kissed me, as she said, for my father's sake: she had been the worst of wives to the best of husbands.

Again the good girl wept at her mother's remembered remorse- -My guar-my guardian's goodness, my mother said, had awakened her to a sense of her wickedness. My poor mother did not spare herself; and I was all sorrow; for what could I say to her on such a subject?— And all the way that I came home in the coach, I did nothing but cry. I had but just dried my eyes, and tried to look cheerful, when you came in. And then, when you told me the good news, something struck me all at once, struck my very heart; I cannot account for it: I know not what to liken it to-and had I not burst into tears, I believe it would have been worse for me. now I am myself; and if my poor mother could pacify her conscience, I should be a happy creature-because of Miss Byron's happiness. You look at each other, ladies: but if you think I should not, bid me begone from your presence for a false girl, and never see me more.

But

Now, Harriet, this emotion of Emily appears to me as a sort of phenomenon. Do you account for it as you will; but I am sure Emily is no hypocrite: she has no art: she believes what she says, that her sudden burst of tears was owing to her heart being affected by her mother's contrition: and I am also sure that she loves you above all the women in the world. Yet it is possible that the subtle thief, ycleped Love, had got very near her heart; and just at the moment threw a dart into one angle of it, which was the something that struck her, all at once, as she phrased it, and made her find tears a relief. This I know, my dear, that we may be very differently affected by the same event, when judged of at a distance, and near. If you don't already, or if you soon will not, experience the truth of this observation in the great event before you, I am much mistaken.

But you see, Harriet, what joy this happy declaration of my brother, and the kind reception it has met with from Northamptonshire, has given us all. We will keep your secret, never fear, till all is over; and, when it is, you shall let my brother know, from the letters we have had the favour of seeing, as much as we do. Till he does, excellent as he thinks you, he will not know one-half of your excellencies, nor the merit which your love and your suspenses have made you with him.

But, with you, I long for the arrival of the next letters from Italy. God grant that Lady Clementina hold her resolution, now that she sees it is almost impossible for her to avoid marrying! If she should relent, what would be the consequence, to my brother, to herself, to you! And how shall all we, his friends and yours, be

affected! You think the lady is obliged, in duty to her parents, to marry. Lady Land I are determined to be wise, and not give our opinions till the events which are yet in the bosom of fate, disclosing themselves, shall not leave us a possibility of being much mistaken. And yet, as to what the filial duty requires of her, we think she ought to marry. Meantime, I repeat, "God grant, that Lady Clementina now hold her mind!"

LADY L― sends up her name. Formality in her, surely. I will chide her. But here she comes-I love, Harriet, to write to the moment; that's a knack I had from you and my brother: and be sure continue it, on every occasion: No pathetic without it.

Your servant, Lady L―.

And your servant, Lady G—. Writing? To whom?

To our Harriet

I will read your letter-Shall I ?

Take it; but read it out, that I may know what I have written.

Now give it me again. I'll write down what you say to it, Lady L

Lady L. I say you are a whimsical creature. But I don't like what you have last written. Charlotte. Last written-Tis down-But why so, Lady L ?

Lady L. How can you thus teaze our beloved Byron with your conjectural evils?

Ch. Have I supposed an impossibility?-But 'tis down-Conjectural evils.

Lady L. If you are so whimsical, write"My dear Miss Byron".

Ch. My dear Miss Byron-'Tis down. Lady L. Looking over me.] "Do not let what this strange Charlotte has written, grieve you:"

Ch. Very well, Caroline !-grieve you.Lady L. "Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof."

Ch. Well observed-Words of Scripture, I believe-Well-evil thereof.

Lady L. Never, surely, was there such a creature as you, Charlotte

Ch. That's down, too.

Lady L. Is that down? laughing-That should not have been down-Yet 'tis true. Ch. Yet 'tis true-What's next? Lady L. Pish

Ch. Pish.

Lady L. Well, now to Harriet-"Clementina cannot alter her resolution: her objection still subsisting. Her love for my brother"Ch. Hold, Lady L- Too much, at one time-Her love to brother my Lady L. "On which her apprehensions that she shall not be able, if she be his wife"

Ch. Not so much at once, I tell you: it is too

much for my giddy head to remember-if she be his wifeLady L. -"to adhere to her own religion, are founded"Ch. -founded.

Lady L. "Is a security for her adherence to a resolution so glorious to herself." Ch. Well said, Lady L- May it be so, say, and pray, I.-Any more, Lady LLady L. "Therefore"Ch. Therefore

-?

Lady L. "Regard not the perplexing Charlotte"

Ch. I thank you, Caroline-perplexing Charlotte

Lady L. "Is the advice of your ever affectionate sister, friend, and servant,”Ch. So-Friend and servantLady L. Give me the pen

Ch. Take another. She did-and subscribed her name, "C. L."

With all my heart, Harriet. And here, after I have repeated my hearty wishes, that nothing of this that I have so sagely apprehended may happen, (for I desire not to be dubbed a witch so much at my own, as well as at your expense,) I will also subscribe that of

Your no less affectionate sister,
Friend, and servant,

CHARLOTTE G

My he has sent you a letter, and your grandmamma another-Full of grateful sensibilities, both, I make no question. But no flight, or goddess-making absurdity, I dare say. You will give us copies, if you are as obliging as you used to be.

LETTER CCXII.

MISS BYRON TO LADY G

Monday, Sept. 25. WHAT have I done to my Charlotte? Is there not something cold and particular in your style, especially in that part of your letter preceding the entrance of my good Lady L- -? And in your postscript-You will give us copies, if you are as obliging as you used to be.-Why should I, when likely to be more obliged to you than ever, be less obliging than before? I can't bear it from Lady G- Are you giving me a proof of the truth of your own observation?" That we may be very differently affected by the same event, when judged of at a distance, and near." -I could not support my spirits, if the sister of Sir Charles Grandison loved me the less for the distinction her brother pays me.

And what, my dear, if Lady Clementina should RELENT, as you phrase it ?-My friends might

be now grieved-Well, and I might be affected too, more than if the visit to my grandmamma had not been made. I own it.-But the high veneration I truly profess to have for Lady Clementina, would be parade and pretension, if, whatever became of your Harriet, I did not resolve, in that case, to try, at least, to make myself easy, and give up to her prior and worthier claim: And I should consider her effort, though unsuccessful, as having entitled her to my highest esteem. To what we know to be right, we ought to submit; the more difficult, the more meritorious: And, in this case, your Harriet would conquer, or die. If she conquered, she would then, in that instance, be greater than even Clementina. O my dear, we know not, till we have the trial, what emulation will enable a warm and honest mind to do.

I will send you enclosed, the two letters transcribed by Lucy.* I am very proud of them both; perhaps too proud; and it may be necessary that I should be pulled down; though I expected it not from my Charlotte. "To be complimented in so noble and sincere a manner as you will see I am, with the power of laying an obligation on him," (instead of owing it to his compassionate consideration, for a creature so long labouring in suspense, and then despairing that her hopes could be answered,) is enough at the same time to flatter her vanity, and gratify the most delicate sensibility.

You will see "how gratefully he takes my grandmamma's hint, that I knew how by experience to account for a double, a divided love, as she is pleased to call it-and the preference my aunt, and herself, and I, have given to the claim of Lady Clementina." You, my dear, know our sincerity in this particular. There is some merit in owning a truth when it makes against us. To do justice in another's case, against one's self, is, methinks, making at least a second merit for one's self." He asks my leave to attend me at Selby-House."-I should rejoice to see him-But I could wish, methinks, that he had first received letters from abroad. But how can I hint my wishes to him without implying either doubt or reserve?-Reserve in the delay of his visit implied by such hint; doubt, of his being at liberty to pursue his intentions: That would not become me to shew; as it might make him think that I wanted protestations and assurances from him, in order to bind him to me; when, if the situation be such as obliges him to balance but in thought, and I could know it, I would die before I would accept of his hand: he has confirmed and established, as I may say, my pride, (I had always some,) by the distinction he has given me: yet I should despise myself, if I found it gave me either arrogance or affectation. "He is so considerate as to dispense with my answer

ing his letters;" for he is pleased to say, “That if I do not forbid him to come down, by my Aunt Selby, or my grandmamma, he will presume upon my leave."

My uncle set out for Peterborough, in order to bring Mr Deane with him to Selby-House. Poor Mr Deane kept his chamber for a week before; yet had not let us know he was ill. He was forbid to go abroad for two days more; but was so overjoyed at what my uncle communicated to him, that he said, he was not sensible of ailing anything; and he would have come with my uncle next day; but neither he nor the doctor would permit it: but on Tuesday he came-Such joy! Dear good man! Such congratulations!-How considerable to their happiness, do they all make that of their Harriet!

They have been in consultation often; but they have excluded me from some particular ones. I guess the subject; and beg of them that I may not be too much obliged. What critical situations have I been in! When will it be at an end?

Mr Deane has written to Sir Charles. I am not to know the contents of his letter.

The hearts of us women, when we are urged to give way to a clandestine and unequal address, or when inclined to favour such a one, are apt, and are pleaded with, to rise against the notions of bargain and sale. Smithfield bargains, you Londoners call them: but unjust is the intended odium, if preliminaries are necessary in all treaties of this nature. And surely previous stipulations are indispensably so among us changeable mortals, however promising the sunshine may be at our setting out on the journey of life; a journey, too, that will not be ended but with the life of one of the travellers.

If I ever were to be tempted to wish for great wealth, it would be for the sake of Sir Charles Grandison; that I might be a means of enlarging his power: since I am convinced, that the necessities of every worthy person within the large circle of his acquaintance, would be relieved, according to his ability.

My dear Emily!—Ah, Lady G! Was it possible for you to think, that my pity for the amiable innocent should not increase my love of her? I will give you leave indeed to despise me, if you ever find anything in my behaviour to Emily, let me be circumstanced as I will, that shall shew an abatement of that tender affection which ever must warm my heart in her favour. Whenever I can promise anything for myself, then shall Emily be a partaker of my felicity, in the way her own heart shall direct. I hope, for her own sake, that the dear girl puts the matter right, when she attributes her sudden burst of tears to the weakness of her spirits occasioned by her mother's remorse: but let me say one

thing; it would grieve me as much as it did Sir Charles, in the Count of Belvedere's case, to stand in the way of anybody's happiness. It is not, you see, your brother's fault, that he is not the husband of Lady Clementina: She wishes him to marry an Englishwoman.-Nor is even the hope of Lady Olivia frustrated by me. You know I always pitied her; and that before I knew, from Sir Charles's letter to Signor Jeronymo, that she thought kindly of me.-Lady Anne S- ; Do you think, my dear, that worthy woman could have hopes, were it not for me? And could my Emily have any, were I out of the world?—No, surely; the very wardship, which he executes with so much indulgent goodness to her, would exclude all such hopes, considerable enough as his estate is, to answer a larger fortune than even Emily's. Were hers not half so much as it is, it would perhaps be more likely than now, that his generous mind might be disposed in her favour, some years hence.

Let me, however, tell you, that true sisterly pity overwhelmed my heart, when I first read that part of your letter which so pathetically describes her tender woe. Be the occasion her duty, or her love, or owing to a mixture of both, I am charmed with her beautiful simplicity: Í wept over that part of your letter for half an hour; and more than once I looked round and round me, wishing for the dear creature to be near me, and wanting to clasp her to my bosom.

Love me still, and that as well as ever, my dear Lady G―, or I shall want a great ingredient of happiness, in whatever situation I may be. I have written to thank my dear Lady L-for her goodness to me, in dictating to your pen; and I thank you, my dear, for being dictated to. I cannot be well. Send me but one line; ease my overburdened heart of one of its anxieties, by telling me that there has nothing passed of littleness in me, that has abated your love to

Your ever grateful, ever affectionate
HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER CCXIII.

LADY G TO MISS BYRON.

Grosvenor Square, Wednesday, Sept. 27. FLY, script, of one line; on the wings of the wind, fly, to acquaint my Harriet, that I love her above all women—and all men too; my brother excepted. Tell her, that I now love her with an increased love; because I love her for his sake, as well as for her own.

Forgive, my dear, all the carelessnesses, as you always did the flippancies, of my pen. The happy prospect that all our wishes would be succeeded to us, had given a levity, a wantonness, to it. Wicked pen!-But I have burnt the whole parcel from which I took it !—Yet I should cor

rect myself; for I don't know whether I did not intend to teaze a little: I don't know whether my compassion for Emily did not make me more silly. If that were so, (for really I suffered my pen to take its course at the time; therefore burnt it,) I know you will the more readily forgive me.

Littleness, Harriet! You are all that is great and good in woman. The littlenesses of others add to your greatness. Have not my foibles always proved this?-No, my dear! you are as great as-Clementina herself: and I love you better, if possible, than I love myself.

A few lines more on other subjects; for I can't write a short letter to my Harriet.

The Countess of D has made my brother a visit. I happened to be at his house. They were alone together near an hour. At going away, he attending her to her chair, she took my hand: All my hopes are over, said she; but I will love Miss Byron, for all that. Nor shall you, Sir Charles, in the day of your power, deny me my correspondent: nor must you, madam, and Lady L, a friendship with Sir Charles Grandison's two sisters.

Lady W- and my sister and I correspond. I want you to know her, that you may love her as well as we do. Love matches, my dear, are foolish things. I know not how you will find it some time hence: No general rule, however, without exceptions, you know. Violent love on one side, is enough in conscience, if the other party be not a fool, or ungrateful: the lover and lovée make generally the happiest couple. Mild, sedate convenience, is better than a stark staring mad passion. The wall-climbers, the hedge and ditch-leapers, the river-forders, the windowdroppers, always find reason to think so. Who ever hears of darts, flames, Cupids, Venuses, Adonises, and such like nonsense in matrimony?

Passion is transitory; but discretion, which never boils over, gives durable happiness. See Lord and Lady W, Lord G- and his good woman, for instances.

O my mad head! And why, think you, did I mention my corresponding with Lady W-? -Only to tell you, (and I had like to have forgot it,) that she felicitates me in her last, on the likelihood of a happy acquisition to our family, from what my brother communicated of his intention to make his addresses to Somebody-I warrant you guess to whom.

Lady Anne S. Poor Lady Anne S-! I dare not tell my brother how much she loves him: I am sure it would make him uneasy.

Beauchamp desires his compliments to you. He is in great affliction. Poor Sir Harry is thought irrecoverable. Different physicians have gone their rounds with him: but the new ones only ask what the old ones did, that they may guess at something else to make trial of. When a patient has money, it is difficult, I believe, for a physician to be honest, and to say, till the last