sweet ease and familiarity which give grace to all she says and does.

The children afterwards desiring to go to their parents, the polite Beauchamp himself, accompanied by Lucy, led them to them, and returned, with a request from all the tenants, that they might have the honour, some time in the day, to see the bride and bridegroom among them, were it but for two minutes. What says my love? said Sir Charles.-O sir! I cannot, cannot-Well, then, I will attend them, to make your excuse, as well as I can. She bowed her thanks.

The time before dinner was devoted to conversation. Sir Charles was nobody's; no, not very particularly his bride's; he put every one upon speaking in turn. For about half an hour he sat between the joyful Mrs Shirley and Mrs Selby; but even then, in talking to them, talked to the whole company; yet, in his air and manner to both, shewed so much respect, as needed not the aid of a particular address to them in words.

This was observed to me by good Lord L For Harriet (uneasy, every eye continually upon her, thoughtful, bashful) withdrawing, a little before dinner, with a cast of her eye to me, I followed her to her dressing-room. There, with so much expressiveness of meaning, though not of language; so much tenderness of love; so much pious gratitude; so much true virgin sensibility; did she open her heart to me, that I shall ever revolve what passed in that conversation, as the true criterion of virgin delicacy unmingled with affectation. Nor was I displeased, that in the height of her grateful self-congratulation, she more than once acknowledged a sigh for the admirable Clementina. We just began to express our pleasure and our hopes in the good behaviour of our Emily, when we were called to dinner,

It was a sumptuous one.

Mr Selby was very orderly, upon the whole; but he remembered, he said, that when he was married, (and he called upon his dame to confirm it,) he was obliged to wait on his, bride, and the company; and he insisted upon it that Sir Charles should.

No, no, no, every one said; and the bride looked a little serious upon it; but Sir Charles, with an air of gaiety that infinitely became him, took a napkin from the butler, and putting it under his arm, I have only one request to make you, my dear Mr Selby-When I am more awkward than I ought to be, do you correct me; and I shall have both pride and pleasure in the task.

Adad! said Mr Selby, looking at him with pleasure-You may be anything, do anything; you cannot conceal the gentleman. Ads-heart! you must always be the first man in companyPardon me, my lords.

ever waited at table, while his napkin was under his arm; but he laid it down while he addressed himself to the company, finding something to say to each, in his pithy, agreeable manner, as he went round the table. He made every one happy. With what delight did the elder ladies look upon him, when he addressed himself to each of them! Hestopped at the bride's chair, and made her a compliment with an air of tenderness. I heard not what it was, sitting at distance; but she looked grateful, pleased; smiled, and blushed. He passed from her to the bride-maids, and again complimented each of them. They also seemed delighted with what he said. Then going to Mr Selby; Why don't you bid me resume the napkin, sir?—No, no; we see what you can do: your conformity is enough for me. You may now sit down, when you please. You make the waiters look awkward.

He took his seat, thanked Mr Selby for having reminded him of his duty, as he called it, and was all himself, the most graceful and obliging of men.

You know, my dear Lady L-, how much I love to praise my brother. Neither I, nor the young ladies, not even those who had humble servants present, regarded anybody but him. My poor lord!-I am glad, however, that he has a tolerable good set of teeth-They were always visible. A good, honest sort of man, though, Lady L, whatever you may think of him.

After dinner, at Mr Selby's reminding motion, Sir Charles and the men went to the tenants. They all wished him joy; and, as they would not sit down while he stood, Sir Charles took a seat among them, and all the rest followed his example.

One of the honest men, it seems, remembered the nuptials of Mr and Mrs Byron, and praised them as the best and happiest of the human race others confirmed his character of both: another knew the late Mr Shirley, and extolled him as much: another remembered the birth, another the christening, of the bride; and others talked of what an excellent creature she was from infancy. Let me tell you, sir, said one grey-headed man, you will have much ado to deserve her; and yet you are said to be as good as you are handsome. The women took up the cause: They were sure, by what they had heard, if any man in the world could deserve the bride, it was Sir Charles Grandison; and they would swear for him by his looks. One of the honest men said, they should all have taken it as a hugeous favour, were they allowed to wish the bride joy, though at ever so great a distance.

Sir Charles said, He was sure the women would excuse her this day; and then the men would, in complaisance to them. We will hope, said he, looking all around him, before we leave Northamptonshire, for one happy dinner toge

They all got up to bow and curtsey, and looked upon each other; and the men, who are most of them freeholders, wished to the Lord for a new election, and that he would come among them. They had no great matter of fault to find, they said, with their present representatives; but anybody who would oppose Sir Charles Grandison, would stand no chance. The women joined in the declaration, as if they thought highly, as Sir Charles pleasantly observed, of their own influence over their husbands. They all wondered that he was not in Parliament, till they heard how little a while he had been in England.

He took leave of the good people (who, by their behaviour and appearance, did as much credit to their landlords as to themselves) with his usual affability and politeness; repeating his promise of a day of jubilee, as some of them called it.

The ball, at the request of the whole company, was opened by the bride and bridegroom. She was very uneasy at the general call. Sir Charles saw she was, and would have taken out Miss Needham, but it was not permitted. The dear creature, I believe, did her best at the time; but I have seen her perform better: yet she did exceedingly well. But such a figure herself, and such a partner; how could she do amiss?

Emily was taken out by Beauchamp. He did his best, I am sure, and almost as much excelled his pretty partner, as his beloved friend did his.

Emily, sitting down by me, asked if she did not perform very ill. Not very ill, my dear, said I; but not so well as I have seen you dance.-I don't know, said she, what ails me: my heart is very heavy, madam. What can be the meaning of it? But don't tell Lady Grandison so.Heigh-ho!-Lady Grandison! What a sound is that! A charming sound! But how shall I bring my lips to be familiarized to it?

You are glad she is married, my love, I dare

say?

Glad? To be sure I am! It is an event that I have long, long wished for: but new names, and new titles, one knows not how to frame one's mouth to presently. It was some time before I could call you Lady G- -. But don't you pity poor Lady Clementina a little, madam?

A great deal, I do. But as she refused my brother

Ah! dear! that's the thing! I wonder she could-when he would have let her have the free exercise of her religion.

Had you rather your guardian had had Lady Clementina, Emily?

O no! How can you ask me such a question, madam? Of all the women in the world, I wished him to have Miss Byron. But she is too happy for pity, you know, madam !-Bless me!

What does she look so thoughtful for? Why does she sigh so? Surely she cannot be sorry! Sorry! No, my love! But a change of condition for life! New attachments! A new course of life! Her name sunk, and lost! The property, person, and will, of another, excellent as the man is; obliged to go to a new house; to be ingrafted into a new family; to leave her own, who so dearly love her; an irrevocable destiny! Do you think, Emily, new in her present circumstances, every eye upon her, it is not enough to make a considerate mind, as hers is, thoughtful?

All these are mighty hardships, madam ! putting up her lip-But, Lady G, can you suppose she thinks them so? If she does-But she is a dear, good lady!-I shall ever love her. She is an ornament of our sex! See, how lovely she looks! Did your ladyship ever see so sweet a creature? I never did.

Not for beauty, dignity, ease, figure, modesty, good sense, did I ever!

She is my guardianess, may I say? Is there such a word?-I shall be as proud of her, as I am of my guardian. Yet there is no cause of sighing, I think.-See my guardian! her husband! Unfashionable as the word is, it is a pretty word. The house-band, that ties all together. Is not that the meaning? Look round! How does he surpass all men !-His ease, talk of ease! His dignity, talk of dignity! As handsome a man, as she is a woman! See how every young lady eyes him; every young gentleman endeavours to imitate him. I wish he would take me out; I would do better.

This was the substance of the whispering dialogue that passed between Emily and mePoor girl!

Mr Selby danced with Lucy, and got great applause. He was resolved, he said, to have one dance with the bride. She besought him not to think of it. Her grandmamma, her aunt, entreated for her. She desired Sir Charles to interpose-If, my dearest life, you could oblige your uncle-I cannot, cannot think of it, said she.

took

Lady G, said Sir Charles, be so good as to challenge Mr Selby. I stood forth, and offered my hand to him. He could not refuse it. He did not perform so well as he did with Lucy. Go, said I, when we had done, sit down by your dame, and be quiet: you have lost all your credit. You dance with a bride!-Some people know not how to bear applause, nor to leave off when they are well. Lord Lout Mrs Selby. She dances very gracefully. Your lord, you know, is above praise. The young Lord Reresby and Miss Needham distinguished themselves. My odd creature was in his element. He and Miss Barclay, and another time he and Emily, did very handsomely, and the girl got up her reputation. Lord Wdid hobble, and not ungracefully, with old Mrs

Selby, who had not danced, she said, for twenty years before; but, on so joyful an occasion, would not refuse Lord W- 's challenge; and both were applauded; the time of life of the lady, the limpingness of my lord, considered. There was a very plentiful sideboard of rich wines, sweetmeats, &c.

We all disclaimed formal supper.

We went afterwards into country dances. Mrs Shirley retired about ten. Harriet took the opportunity of attending her. I had an intimation to follow.

I found her just dropped on her knees to her grandmamma, who, with her arms about her neck, was folding to her fond heart the darling

of it.

I was called upon to give my opinion, whether she should return to the company or not: I gave it that she should; and that she should retire, for the night, about eleven. As to the bride-maids, I said, I would manage, that they should only attend her to her chamber, and leave her there, with her aunt, Lucy, and me. Lord L undertook to make the gentlemen give up form; which he said, they would the more easily do, as they were set in to dancing.

After all, Lady L- we women, dressed out in ribbons and gaudy trappings, and in virgin-white, on our wedding days, seem but like milk-white heifers led to sacrifice. We ought to be indulged, if we are not shameless things, and very wrong indeed, in our choice of the man we can love.

Mr Selby broke from his partner, Miss Barclay, to whisk into the figure of the bride.

Sir Charles joined the deserted lady, who seemed much better pleased with her new partner than with her old one.

Lord W- who was sitting down, took Mrs Selby, and led her into the dance.

I drew Miss Needham to the sideboard, and gave her her cue; she gave theirs to the three other bride-maids.

About eleven, Mrs Selby, unobserved, withdrew with the bride. The bride-maids, one by one, waited on her to her chamber, saluted her, and returned to company.

The dear creature wanted presence of mind. She fell into my reflection above. O my dear Lady G! said she, was I not right when I declared, that I never would marry, were it not to the man I loved above all the men in the world?

She complimented me twenty times, with being very good. She prayed for me; but her prayers were meant for herself.

You remember, that she told me on my apprehensiveness on the like occasion, that fear made me loving to her. On her blessing me, Ah, Harriet, said I, you now find, that apprehension will make one pious, as well as loving.

My sister, my friend, my own, my Caroline's, my brother's, dear Lady Grandison! said I,

when I left her, near undressed, God bless you! And God be praised, that I can call you by these tender names! My brother is the happiest of men; you of women. May we never love each other less than we do now. Look forward to the serene happiness of your future lot. If you are the joy of our brother, you must be our joy, and the jewel of our family.

She answered me only by a fervent embrace, her eyes lifted up, surcharged, as I may say, with tears of joy, as in thankfulness.

I then rushed down stairs, and into the company.

My brother instantly addressed me-My Harriet, whispered he, with impatience, returns not this night?

You will see Mrs Selby, I presume, by and by, returned I.

ces.

He took his seat by old Mrs Selby, and fell into talk with her, to avoid joining in the danHis eye was continually turned to the door. Mrs Selby at last came in. Her eyes shewed the tender leave she had taken of her Harriet.

My brother approached her. She went out ; he followed her.

In a quarter of an hour she returned. We saw my brother no more that night. We continued our dancings till between three and four.

I have often observed, that we women, whether weakly or robust, are hardly ever tired with dancing. It was so with us. The men, poor souls! looked silly and sleepy, by two; all but my ape: he has a good many femalities, as uncle Selby calls them. But he was brought up to be idle and useless, as women generally are.

I must conclude my letters whimsically, my dear; if I did not, you would not know them to be written by your

CHARLOTTE G

LETTER CCLVI.

LADY G,

[In continuation.]

EMILY, Lucy, and I, went to pay our morning congratulations as soon as we arose, which was not very early, to my brother, being told that he was in the cedar parlour, writing. He received us like himself. I am writing, said he, a few very short letters. They are to demand the felicitations, one of our beloved Caroline; one of our Aunt Grandison; one of the Earl of G, and one of our dear Dr Bartlett. There is another; you may read it, Charlotte.

That also was a short one, to signify, according to promise, as I found, to Signor Jeronymo

della Porretta, the actual celebration of his nuptials.

I returned it to him-Like my brother, was all I said.

It concluded with a caution given in the most ardent terms, against precipitating the admirable Clementina.

We went up to the bride. She was dressing. Her aunt was with her, and her two cousins Holles, who went not home the preceding night. The moment we entered, she ran to us; and, clasping her arms about my neck, hid her blushing face in my bosom-My dearest, dearest Lady G murmured she-Am I indeed your sister, your sister Grandison! And will you love me as well as ever?

My dearest, lovely sister! my own sister Grandison! my brother's wife! Most sincerely do I repeat, joy, joy, joy, to my Harriet !

O Lady G ! how you raise me! Your goodness is a seasonable goodness to me! I never, never, but by your and your sister's example, shall be worthy of your brother!

Then embracing Emily; Wish me joy, my love! In my joy shall you find your own!

Emily wept, and even sobbed-You must, you must, treat me less kindly, madam. I cannot, cannot bear your good-your goodness. On my knees I acknowledge my other guardian. God bless my dear, dear Lady Grandison!

At that moment, as they were folded in each other's arms, entered my brother-He clasped his round his sweet bride: Pardon this intrusion, said he-Excellent creature, continue to love my Emily!—Continue, my Emily, to deserve the sisterly love of my Harriet!

Then turning to me, saluting me, My Charlotte loves my Harriet; so does our Caroline. She fondly loves you both. God continue your love to each other! What a sister has yesterday's happy event given to each other!-What a wife to me! We will endeavour, my love (to her) to deserve our happiness: and, I humbly trust, it will be continued to us.

He saluted Mrs Selby-My own Aunt Selby! What obligations am I under to you, and to our venerable Mrs Shirley, for giving to an angel an angel's education, and conferring on me the blessing!

Congratulate me, my dear cousins Holles, saluting each. May you both be as happy, whenever you alter your single estate, as I will endeavour to make your lovely cousin!

He withdrew, bowing to us; and with so much respectfulness to the happy Harriet, as delighted us all.

Lucy went down with him, to pay her morning compliments to the two grandmammas.

Sister, said Kitty Holles, after he was gonewe never, never can think of marrying, after we have seen Sir Charles Grandison, and his behaviour.

Lucy came up with Nancy. They embraced

their cousin. Your grandmamma and my grandmamma, my dearest cousin, are impatient to see you, in your grandmamma's chamber; and the gentlemen are crying out for their breakfasts in the great parlour. We hurried down. The bride threw herself at her grandmamma's feet, for her blessing. It was given in such a tender and pious manner, that we were all affected by it. The best of sons, of men, said she, afterwards, has but just left me. What a blessing to all around him, is a good man! Sir Charles Grandison is everything. But, my dear loves, to the younger ladies, let a good man, let life, let manners, be the principal motive of your choice: in goodness will you have every sanction; and your fathers, mothers, relations, friends, every joy! My dearest love, my Harriet, taking her hand, there was a time that I thought no man on earth could deserve you; now it is my prayer, and will be, that you may deserve this man. But let us join the gentlemen. Fear not, my Harriet-Sir Charles's character will preserve with every one its dignity, and give a sanction to the solemnity that has united you to him. My dearest love! be proud, and look assured: you may, or who can? Yesterday's transaction is your glory; glory in it, my Harriet!

We attended the two elder ladies down. Harriet, as bashful people ever do, increased her own difficulties, by staying behind with her Lucy. We were all seated at the breakfast-tables, and staid for them: Mr Selby grew impatient; every one having declared themselves ready for breakfast. At last, down came the blushing bride, with her Lucy. Sir Charles, seeing Mr Selby's countenance turning peevishly arch; just as he had begun, "Let me tell you, niece," and was coming out with something, he arose, and taking his bride's hand, led her to her seat. Hush, my dear Mr Selby, said he; nobody must call to account my wife, and I present.-How, sir! how, sir! Already have I lost my niece?

Not so, Mr Selby. All her duties will have strength given them by the happy event of yesterday; but you must not let a new-married man see how much easier it is to find fault than to be faultless.

Your servant, sir! replied Mr Selby-You'll one day pay for your complaisance, or my niece is not a woman. But I was ready primed. You have robbed me of a jest; and that, let me tell you, would have been more to me than my breakfast.

After breakfast, Lucy gave us a lesson on the harpsichord. Sir Charles accompanied her finger, at the desire of the company.

Lord and Lady W- excused themselves to breakfast, but came to dinner. We entertained one another with reports of what passed yester-* day; what people said; how the tenants' feast was managed; how the populace behaved at the houses which were kept open. The church-wardens' list was produced of the poor recommend

ed by them; it amounted to upwards of one hundred and forty, divided into two classes; one of the acknowledged poor, the other of poor housekeepers and labouring people who were ashamed to apply; but to whom the churchwardens knew bounty would be acceptable. There were above thirty of these, to whom Sir Charles gave very handsomely, but we knew not what. The churchwardens, who are known to be good men, went away blessing him, with hearts running over at their lips, as if they themselves were to find their account in his goodness.

Saturday.

We have had a smart debate this morning, on the natural independency of our sex, and the usurpation of the other. Particulars by and by. My brother is an irresistible man. To-morrow he has carried it to make his appearance at church, against all their first intentions, and that by their own consents. He had considered everything; they had not. Mr Beauchamp has letters which require him to go up to town: Lord and Lady W- are desirous to get thither, his lordship having some gouty warnings; I am obliged to go up; having hated to set about anything preparatory to your case, Caroline! [If the wretch were to come in my way just now, I should throw my standish at him, I believe. The Earl and Lady Gertrude are in town; and I am afraid of another reprimand. The Earl never jests but he means the same as if he were serious. I shall take Emily with me, when I go. Mrs Reeves wants to be with her little boy. Yet all these people are desirous to credit the appearance. I had like to have forgot your good man -He longs to see his Caroline; and hopes to engage my brother to stand in person as his urchin's sponsor. So you see that there is a necessity to consent to make the appearance to-morrow, or the bride will lose the flower of her company.

God continue the happiness of this charming pair! Their behaviour to each other is just what I would wish it to be; tender, affectionate, without fulsome fondness. He cannot be more respectful to the dear creature now, than he was before marriage; but, from his present behaviour, I dare answer for him, that he will not be less so; and yet he is so lively, that he has all the young man in his behaviour, whenever occasions call for relaxation. Even when subjects require seriousness, as they do sometimes, in conversations between Mrs Shirley, Mrs Selby, Mr Deane, and him; his seriousness, as Mrs Shirley herself finely observed in his absence, is attended with such vivacity, and intermingled with such entertaining illustrations, all naturally arising from and falling into the subject, that he is sure of every one's attention and admiration.

The features of his manly face, and the turn

of his fine eye, observed she, on another occasion, are cast for pity, and not for censure. And let me add a speech of his, when he was called upon to censure a person, on a slight representation of facts:-

"The whole matter is not before us," said he ; "we know not what motives he may have to plead by way of extenuation, though he may not be able entirely to excuse himself. But, as it appears to me, I would not have done so."

But what, my dear, am I about? Are they not my brother's praises that I am expatiating upon? Was I ever to be trusted with that subject? Is there no man, I have been asked, that is like your brother?-He, I have answered, is most likely to resemble him, who has an unbounded charity, and universal benevolence, to men of all professions; and who, imitating the Divinity, regards the heart, rather than the head, and much more than either rank or fortune, though it were princely; and yet is not a leveller, but thinks that rank or degree entitles a man, who is not utterly unworthy of both, to respect. I will write one more letter, and then give way to other affairs.

I never thought I should have been such a scribbler. But the correspondence between my brother and Dr Bartlett, into which we were all so eager to peep; that of this dear creature with her Lucy, which so much entertained us, and which led us, in her absence, to wish to continue the series of it; the story of Clementina so interesting; all our suspenses so affecting; and the state of this our lovely friend's heart so peculiar; and the desire of amusing you in your confinement; all these, together, led me on. But now one letter more shall conclude my task.

Lord L has just now mentioned to his brother his wishes that he would stand godfather to the little lord. My brother caught his hand, and besought his pardon for not offering himself. You do me, my dear lord, said he, both honour and pleasure. Where was my thought? But this dear creature, turning to his bride, will be so good as to remind me of all my imperfections. I am in a way to mend; for the duties inseparable from my delightful new engagement will strengthen all my other duties.

I have taken upon me, sir, said she, to request the favour of my Lord and Lady L—'s acceptance of me for a godmother.

To which I have objections, said I. I have a prior claim. Aunt Eleanor has put in hers, Lady W- hers; and this before Miss Byron was

Lady Grandison.

Your circumstance, my dear Lady G, according to a general observation of our sex, is prohibitory.

Will you, my brother, appealed I, allow of superstitious observances, prognostics, omens, dreams?

O no! My Harriet has been telling me how much she suffered lately from a dream, which