as I can do justice to this poor youth, and poor Laura, I matter not myself. What I have done is my choice: they had no option. I over-persuaded Laura, as my friends would have done me. I feel that sting: it was not doing as I would be done by. Very, very wicked in me! I dare say, you would tell me so, were you to find me out.

But, chevalier, shall I send you, yes, or no, this scrawl, written to divert me in a pensive mood? I would not, if I thought it would trouble you. God forbid that your pupil Clementina should give you discomposure, now especially in the early part of your nuptials! Yet if I could so manage, as that you would permit your secretary (I would not ask the favour of your own pen) to send a few lines to some particular place, where my servant could fetch them unknown to you or anybody, only to let me know if you have heard from Bologna, or Naples, or Florence, (I was very ungrateful to good Mrs Beaumont and the ladies her friends,) and how they all do; my father, mother, (my heart at times bleeds for them,) my dear Jeronymo, my two other brothers, and good Father Marescotti, and my sister-in-law, whom I have so much reason to love; it will be a great ease to my heart; provided the account be not a very melancholy one if it should, poor Clementina's days would be numbered upon twice five fingers.

I am put in a way-This shall be sent to your palace in town. You will order your secretary to direct his letter, "To George Trumbull, Esq. to be left, till called for, at White's Chocolatehouse, in St James's Street." I depend upon your honour, chevalier, that you will acquiesce with my desire to remain incognita, till I shall consent to reveal to you the place of my abode, or to see you elsewhere. I sign only

CLEMENTINA.

LETTER CCLXXIX.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO LADY GRANDISON.

Saturday, Feb. 17. ALL day yesterday I was in pain that I heard not from Clementina. But I made myself as easy as I could in visiting my sisters, and their lords, and my aunt Grandison. What blessings do they all pour forth on my Harriet! What compassion do they express for the dear fugitive! How do they long to see her!

Yesterday I received a letter from her.

The copy of that to which hers is an answer; of hers; and of my reply; and her return to that; I enclose. You will read them to our friends in English.

You will find, by the last of the four, that I am to be admitted to her presence. I would not miss a post, or I should have delayed, till the interview be over, the sending this to my Harriet. Hope the best, my dearest love. The purity of your heart, and of Clementina's, and the integrity of my own, if I know my heart, bids us humbly hope for a happy dissipation of the present cloud, which, hanging over the heads of a family I revere, engages our compassion, and mingles a sigh with our joys. Adieu, my best, my dearest love. Answer for me to all my friends. CHARLES GRANDISON.

LETTER CCLXXX.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO LADY CLEMENTINA.

[Under cover, "To GEORGE TRUMBULL, Esq." &c.]

St James's Square, Wedn. Night, Feb. 14. TEN days the noble Clementina in England, the native place of her fourth brother, her equally admiring and faithful friend; yet not honour him with the knowledge of her arrival!-Forgive me, if I call you cruel.-It is in your power, madam, to make one of the happiest men in the world a very unhappy one; and you will effectually do it, if you keep from him the opportunity of throwing himself at your feet, and welcoming you to a country always dear to him, but which will be made still dearer by your arrival in it.

I have a letter from your and my Jeronymo. I have a great deal to say to you of its contents; of your father, mother, brothers-But it must be said, not written. For God's sake, madam, permit me to attend you in company of one of my sisters, or otherwise, as you shall think best. You have in me a faithful, an indulgent friend. I am no severe man: Need I tell you that I am not? If you do not choose that anybody else shall know the place of your abode, I will faithfully keep your secret. You shall be as much the mistress of your own will, of your own actions, as if I knew not where to address myself to you. If ever you had a kind thought of your fourth brother, if you ever wished him happy, grant him the favour of attending you; for his happiness, I repeat, depends upon it.

I received our Jeronymo's letter but on Monday. Tender and affectionate are the contents.

I have ridden post, to get hither this night, in hopes of being favoured with intelligence of you. In the morning I should have made inquiries at the proper places: but little did I think my sister could have been so many days

in town. Let not an hour pass, after this comes to your hand, before you relieve the anxious heart of,

Dearest Lady Clementina,

Your most affectionate brother,
And faithful humble servant,
CHARLES GRANDISON.

LETTER CCLXXXI.

LADY CLEMENTINA TO SIR CHARLES

GRANDISON.

Friday Morning, Feb. 16. O. S. I RECEIVED yours but this moment. What can I say to the contents? I wish to see you; but dare not. Your happiness, you say, depends upon an interview with me. Why do you tell me it does? I wish you happy. Yet, if you wished me so, you would have told me how my dear friends in Italy do. This omission was designed. It was not generous in the Chevalier Grandison. It was made to extort from me a favour, which you thought I should otherwise be unwilling to grant.

But can you forgive the rash Clementina? God is merciful as well as just. You imitate him. But how can Clementina, humbled as she is, be sunk so low, as to appear a delinquent before the man she respects for a character, which, great as she thought it before, has risen upon her since her arrival in England?

But, sir, can you, will you, engage, that my friends will allow me to continue single? Can you answer, in particular, for the discontinuance of the Count of Belvedere's addresses? Can you procure forgiveness, not only for me, but my poor Laura? Will you take into your service, or recommend him effectually to that of some one of your friends, in some manner that is not altogether servile, the honest youth who has behaved unexceptionably in mine? For he wishes not to return to Italy.

Answer me these few easy and plain questions; and you will hear farther from

CLEMENTINA.

out using either compulsion or over-earnest persuasion.

Who, madam, can forbid the Count of Belvedere to hope? Leave him hope. If he has not the over-earnest entreaties of your own relations to give weight to his addresses, it will be in your power to give him either encouragement or despair.

I will engage for the joyful reconciliation to her of all the dear Clementina's friends. I am sure I can.

Laura shall be forgiven, and provided for by an annuity equal to her wages, if the continuance of her service be not accepted.

I will myself entertain your young man ; and place and reward him according to his merits. And now, madam, admit to the honour of your presence,

Your brother, your friend,
Your ever-grateful and
Affectionate humble servant,
CHARLES GRANDISON.

LETTER CCLXXXIII.

LADY CLEMENTINA TO SIR CHARLES GRANDISON.

Saturday Morning, Feb. 17. I DEPEND upon your honour, sir, for the performance of the prescribed conditions: yet, on meditating my appearance before you, I am more and more ashamed to see you. It was a great disappointment to me at my first arrival, that you were at your country-seat. At that time my heart was full. I had much to say, and I could have seen you then with more fortitude than now falls to my share. However, I will see you. To-morrow, sir, about five in the evening, you will find, at one of the doors on the higher ground, on the left hand going up St James's Street, from the Palace, as it is called, the expecting Laura, who will conduct you to

CLEMENTINA.

vants, as they crossed the way; and stood out on the pavement, that I might see her. When she found she had caught my eye, she ran into the house, wringing her clasped hands-God be praised! God be praised! were her words, as I followed her in, in her own language. Laura can speak no other. Shew me, shew me to your lady, good Laura! said I, with emotion.

She ran up one pair of stairs before me. She entered the dining-room, as it is called. I stopt at the stairs' head till I had Clementina's commands. Laura soon came out. She held open the door for me, curtseying in silence.

The drawn window-curtains darkened the room but the dignity of Clementina's air and motion left me not in doubt. She stood up, supporting herself on the back of an elbow chair. Taking the trembling hand: Welcome, thrice welcome to England, dearest Lady Clementina! I pressed her hand with my lips; and seated her; for she trembled; she sobbed; she endeavoured to speak, but could not for some mo

ments.

I called to Laura, fearing she was fainting. O that well-known voice! said she. And do you, can you, bid me welcome?-Me, a fugitive, an ingrate, undutiful !—O chevalier, lower not your unsullied character, by approving so unnatural a step as that which I have taken!

I do bid you welcome, madam! Your brother, your friend, from his soul, welcomes you to England.

Let me know, chevalier, before another word passes, whether I have a father, whether I have a mother?

Blessed be God, madam, you have both.

She lifted up her clasped hands: Thank God! God, I thank thee! Distraction would have been my portion, if I had not! I was afraid to ask after them. I should have thought myself the most detestable of parricides, if either of them had been no more.

They are in the utmost distress for your safety. They will think themselves happy, when they know you are well, and in the protection of your brother Grandison.

Will they, sir? O what a paradox! They so indulgent, yet so cruel-I so dutiful, yet a fugitive! But tell me, sir; determined as I was against entering into a state I too much honour to enter into it with a reluctant heart, could I take any other step than that I have taken, to free myself from the cruelty of persuasion? O that I might have been permitted to take the veil!-But answer my question, chevalier.

Surely, madam, they would not have compelled you. They always declared to me they would not.

Not compelled me, sir! Did not my father kneel to me? My mother's eyes spoke more than her lips could have uttered. The Bishop had influenced good Father Marescotti (against the interests of religion, I had almost said) to op

pose the wish of my heart. Jeronymo, your Jeronymo, gave into their measures: What refuge had I-Our Giacomo was inexorable. I was to be met, on my return from Florence to Bologna, by the Count of Belvedere, and all those of his house; the General was to be in his company: I had secret intelligence of all this: and I was to be received as an actual bride at Bologna, or made to promise I would be so within a few days after my arrival. My sister-inlaw, my only advocate among my Italian friends, pitied me, it is true: but, for that reason, she was not to be allowed to come to Bologna. I was at other times denied to go to Urbino, to Rome, to Naples-Could I do otherwise than I have done, if I would avoid profaning a sacrament?

My dearest sister Clementina sometimes accuses herself of rashness, for taking a step so extraordinary. At this moment, does she not receive her brother in darkness? Whence this sweet consciousness? But what is done, is done. Your conscience is a law to you. If that accuse you, you will repent: if it acquit you, who shall condemn? Let us look forward, madam. I approve not of the vehemence of your friends' persuasions. Yet what parents ever meant a child more indulgence; what brothers, a sister more disinterested affection?

me.

I own, sir, that my heart at times misgives But answer me this: Are you of opinion I ought, at the instance of my parents and brothers, however affectionate, however indulgent in all other instances, to marry against inclination, against justice, against conscience?

Against any one of these you ought not. Well, sir, then I will endeavour to make myself easy as to this article. But will you undertake, sir, (a woman wants a protector,) to maintain this argument for me?

I will, madam: and shall hope for the more success, if you will promise to lay aside all thoughts of the veil.

Ah, chevalier !

Will my dearest sister answer me one question: Is it not your hope, that, by resisting their wishes, you may tire out opposition, and at last bring your friends to consent to a measure to which they have always been extremely averse? Ah, chevalier!-But if I could get them to

consent

Dear madam! is not their reasoning the same -If they could get you to consent? Ah, chevalier!

May not this be a contention for months, for years? And

I know, sir, your inference: You think that in a contention between parents and child, the child should yield. Is not that your inference?

Not against reason, against justice, against conscience. But there may be cases, in which neither ought to be their own judge.

Well, sir, you that have yielded to a plea of

Admirable Clementina!

-Are fit to be a judge between us-You shall be mine, if ever the debate be brought on.

No consideration, in that case, shall bias me! -But may I not hope, that the dear lady I stand before, will permit me to behold a person, whose mind I ever revered?

Laura, said she, let the tea be got ready: I have been taught to drink tea, sir, since my arrival. The gentlewoman of the house is very obliging. Permit me, sir, to withdraw for a few

moments.

She sighed as she went out, leaning upon Laura.

Laura returned soon after with lights. She set them on the table; and giving way to a violent emotion, O Milord Grandison! said the poor girl, falling down, and embracing my knees; for the blessed Virgin's sake, prevail on my lady to return to dear, dear Bologna!

Have patience, Laura: all will be well.

I, the unhappy Laura, shall be the sacrifice. The General will kill me !-O that I had never accompanied my lady in this expedition!

Have patience, Laura! If you have behaved well to your lady, I will take you into my protection. Had you a good voyage? Was the master of the vessel, were his officers, obliging?

They were, sir; or neither my lady nor I should have been now living. O sir! we were in a dying way all the voyage; except the three last days of it. The master was the civillest of

men.

I asked after her fellow-servant, naming him from Jeronymo's letters. Gone out, was the answer, to buy some necessaries! O sir, we live a sad life! Strangers to the language, to the customs of the country, all our dependence is upon this young man.

I asked her after the behaviour and character of the people of the house, (a widow and her three daughters,) that, if I heard but an indifferent account of them, I might enforce by it my intended plea to get her to Lady L's. Laura spoke well of them. The captain of the vessel, who brought them over, is related to them, and recommended them, when he knew what part of the town her lady chose.

What risks did the poor lady run! such different people as she had to deal with, in the contrivance and prosecution of her wild scheme; yet all to prove honest; how happy! Poor lady! how ready was she to fly from what she apprehended to be the nearest evil! But she could not be in a capacity to weigh the dangers to which she exposed herself.

Often and often, said Laura, have I, on my knees, besought my lady to write to you. But she was not always well enough to resolve what to do; and when she was sedate, she would plead, that she was afraid to see you; you would

her as a rash creature: and she could not bear your displeasure: she was conscious that the act she had done, bore a rash, and even romantic, appearance: had you been in town, Antony should have made inquiries at distance, and she might have yielded to see you: but for several days her thoughts were not enough composed to write to you. At last, being impatient to hear of the health of her father and mother, she did write..

Why stays she so long from me, Laura? Attend your lady, and tell her, that I beg the ho nour of her presence.

Laura went to her. Her lady presented herself with an air of bashful dignity. I met her at her entrance-My sister, my friend, my dearest Lady Clementina, kissing her hand, welcome, welcome, I repeat, to England. Behold your fourth brother, your protector: honour me with your confidence: acknowledge my protection. Your honour, your happiness, is dear to me as my life.

I led her, trembling, sighing, but at the moment speechless, to a seat; and sat down by her, holding both her hands in mine: She struggled for speech: Compose yourself, madam: assure yourself of my tenderest regard, of my truest brotherly affection.

Generous Grandison! Can you forgive me? Can you from your heart bid me welcome? I will endeavour to compose myself. You told me I was conscious: conscious indeed I am: the step I have taken has a disgraceful appearance: but yet will I not condemn, nor consent that you should, my motive.

I condemn not your motive, madam. All will, all must, be happy! Rely on my brotherly advice and protection. My sisters, and their lords, every one I love, admires you. You are come to families of lovers, who will think themselves honoured by your confidence.

You pour balm into the wounds of my mind. What is woman when difficulties surround her! When it was too late, and the ship that I embarked in was under sail, then began my terror: that took away from me all power of countermanding the orders I had given; till the winds, that favoured my voyage, opposed my return. Then was I afraid to trust myself with my own reflections, lest, if I gave way to them, my former malady should find me out. But let me not make you unhappy. Yet permit me to observe, that when you mentioned the kind reception I might expect to meet with among your friends, you forbore to mention the principal personWhat will SHE think of the poor Clementina? But be assured, and assure her, that I would not have set my foot on the English shore, had you not been married. O chevalier ! if I make you and her unhappy, no creature on earth can hate me, so much as I shall hate myself.

Generous, noble Clementina! your happiness

is indeed essential to that of us both. My Harriet is another Clementina! You are another Harriet! Sister-excellencies, I have called you to her, to all her relations. In the letter you favoured me with, you wished to know her : you must know her; and I am sure you will love her. Your wishes that she would accept of my vows, were motives with her to make me happy. She knows our whole history. She is prepared to receive you as the dearest of her sisters.

Generous Lady Grandison! I have heard her character. I congratulate you, sir. You have reason to think, that I should have been grieved, had you not met with a woman who deserved you. To know you are happy in a wife, and think yourself so, that no blame lies upon me for declining your addresses, will contribute more than I can express, to my peace of mind. When I have more courage, and my heart is eased of some part of its anguish, you shall present me to her. Tell her, meantime, that I will love her; and that I shall hold myself everlastingly bound to her in gratitude, for making happy the man, whom once, but for a superior motive, I had the vanity to think I could have made so.

She turned away her glowing face, tears on her cheek. My admiration of her greatness of mind, so similar to that of my own Harriet, would not allow me to pour out my heart in words. I rose; and taking both her hands, bowed upon them. Tears more plentifully flowed from her averted eyes; and we were both for one moment speechless.

It would be injurious to a mind equally great and noble as that which informs the person of this your sister-excellence, to offer to apologize for faithfully relating to you those tender emotions of hearts, one of them not less pure than my Harriet's; the other all your own.

I broke silence, and urged her to accept of apartments at Lady L- 's. Let me acquaint the gentlewoman of the house, I beseech you, madam, that to-morrow morning the sister I have named, and I, will attend you to her house. We will thank her for you, as you have almost forgotten your English, for the civilities which she and her daughters have shewn you; and I will make it my business to find out the honest captain, who, Laura tells me, has been very civil to you also, and thank him too in the names of all our common friends, for his care of you.

I will think myself honoured, now you have encouraged me to look up, by a visit from either or both your sisters. But let me advise with you, sir: Is the kind offer you make me, a proper of fer for me to accept of? I shall be ready to take your advice-Little regard as I may seem, by the step I have taken, to have had for my own honour; I would avoid, if possible, suffering a first error to draw me into a second. Do you, sir, as my brother and friend, take care of that honour, in every step you shall advise me to take.

Your honour, madam, shall be my first care. I sincerely think this is the rightest measure you can now pursue.

Now pursue !-sighing.

This argument admitted of a short debate. She was scrupulous from motives too narrow for a Clementina to mention. I made her blush for mentioning them; and, in a word, had the hap piness to convince her, that the protection of the sister of her fourth brother was the most proper she could choose.

I went down, and talked to the gentlewomen below.

I requested them to make my compliments to Captain Henderson, and desire him to give me an opportunity to thank him in person for his civility to a lady beloved by all who have the honour of knowing her.

I went up again to the lady; and sat with her most of the evening, Laura only attending us.

I talked to Clementina of Mrs Beaumont, and the ladies of Florence; and intimated, that her mother had prevailed on that lady to come to England, in hopes, as she is an Englishwoman, that her company would be highly acceptable to her. She blessed her mother. What an instance of forgiving goodness was this! she said, with tears of gratitude; and blessed Mrs Beaumont for her goodness to her; and the ladies at Florence for parting with one so dear to them.

I was happy throughout this latter conversation in her serenity; not one instance of wandering did I observe.

I chose not, however, so early, to acquaint her with the intention of the dearest and nearest of her friends, to come over with Mrs Beaumont ; though I expressed my earnest hope, that if we could make England agreeable to her, I should have the honour of the promised visit from some of the principals of her family, before she left it.

This, my dearest life! is a minute account of our interview. One of the greatest pleasures I can know, is to obey the gentle, the generous commands of my Harriet.

to

This morning I attended Lady L breakfast with the excellent lady, as proposed. My sister and her lord are charmed with their guest: Their guest she is: And Lady Clementina is as much pleased with them. She is every hour more and more sensible of the dangers she has run; and censures herself very freely for the rash step, as she calls it herself.

She longs, yet is ashamed to see you, my dearest life! and listens with delight to the praises my Lord and Lady L― so justly give to my Harriet.

Monday Afternoon.

I HAVE introduced Lord and Lady G— to Lady Clementina, at her own request; being assured, she said, that the place of her refuge