your parents must a little relax. Their reason, if you will not be too unconceding, shall not, if I am referred to, be mine, unless it is reason in every other impartial judgment. Would to Heaven they were at hand to be consulted!

What a wish! Then you would give me up! You are a good man. Will a good man resist the authority of parents in favour of a runaway child? Dear, dear madam, clasping her arms about me, prevail upon your Chevalier Grandison to protect me; to plead for me: he can deny you nothing: he will then protect me, though my father, my mother, my brothers, should all join to demand me of him.

My dear Lady Clementina, said I, you may depend on your own interest with Sir Charles Grandison. He has your happiness at heart, and will have, as much as I wish him to have, mine. Generous, noble, good Lady Grandison! how I admire you! May the Almighty shower upon you his choicest blessings! If you allow me an interest in his services, I demand it of you, chevalier.

Demand it, expect it, be assured of it, my dear Lady Clementina. I want to talk with you upon your expectations, your wishes. As much as is practicable, whatever they are, they shall be mine.

Well, sir, when then shall we talk?-Tomorrow will be too soon for my spirits.

Do my Harriet, then, the honour of passing the day on Monday with her. The dear friends we have for our guests will choose to pass it with Lord and Lady G. Yourself, Lady L—, my Harriet, and I, will be all the company; you shall declare your pleasure, and that shall be a law to me. At present, this affecting interview has discomposed us all, and we will retire.

Kindly considered! said she: You are in Eng land what you were in Italy-I am discomposed. I have discomposed you, madam, to me. I was born to give trouble to my friends. Forgive me! I once was happy-I may hope, madam, to Lady L, your supporting presence at your brother's, on Monday? Lady L- bowed her assent. She understands Italian, but speaks it not.

The lady stood up, yet trembling. I will withdraw, ladies, sir, if you please. My head seems as if bound round by a tight cord, (putting her hand to her forehead.) Then clasping her arms round me, thus, in a high strain, spoke she! Angel of a woman, gracious as the blessed Virgin Mother, benign, all that is good and great! I attend you on Monday. Adieu!

She kissed my cheek, I clasped my arms about her. Revered Lady Clementina!—I could say no more. Tears, and tenderness of accent, interrupted my speech. Lady L conducted her to her own apartment, and left her to her Laura. We sat down, admiring, praising her. Dear sir, said I, taking Sir Charles's hand, Lady Clementina must not be persuaded. Persuasion is

compulsion. Why comes over the Count of Belvedere? If she knows it, I will not answer for her right mind.

My uncle and aunt, Lucy, Emily, were very curious after particulars, when we came home, as we did, to supper.

Sir Charles left it to Lady L to manage with Lady G, who, he knew, expected a day of our beloved guests; and he himself apologized to them for the freedom he had taken of so disposing of them. They had the goodness to thank him for his freedom. They long, however, to see the admirable lady, who could renounce the man of her choice from religious motives, yet love him still; fly to him for protection, yet be able to congratulate him on his marriage, and love his wife. She is great indeed! said my aunt. -Lucy praised my generosity-But what is that which is called generosity in me, who am in full possession of all my wishes, to that of Clementina!

Join, my dear grandmamma, in prayers for her happiness; the rather, as in it, from true affection, is included that of your HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCLXXXIX.

LADY GRANDISON.

[In continuation.]

Monday, March 5. LADY L- - and Lady Clementina came, just as we were preparing for breakfast.

Lady L had given her such an account of my friends, that she was desirous to see them, and, as she was pleased to say, to bespeak their favour to the poor fugitive. After the first salutations, she addressed my aunt Selby in French, being told that she spoke not Italian: You are happy, madam, said she, in a niece, who may challenge the world to shew her equal; and still more happy in her being blessed with such a husband. Merit is not always so well rewarded.

My aunt was struck with the manner, as well as with the words.

She made a very pretty compliment to my uncle; who, having forgot his French, could only bow, and seem pleased.

When Lucy was presented to her, as my uncle's niece, and my favourite correspondent, You must not, mademoiselle, said she, be angry with me, if I envy you.

To Emily, Happy young lady! said she. I have heard of you in Italy. Mrs Beaumont spoke honourably of you to me, more than once. We both called you happy in such a guardian.

I hope, my dear grandmamma, you don't think I forget my cousins Reeves, though I mentioned them not before. I have already called in upon

them twice; and they have, with the kind freedom of relations, dropt in upon us several times. They are invited to Lord G- -'s: I won't say Lady G's, though everybody else does.

This is what I stole time to write, while Sir Charles is engaged in discourse with the lady; and our guests are preparing to be gone to Lord = G's; Lady G-requesting my aunt's company early. She is the veriest coward! These brave spirits, she has said, are but flash. Indeed the very delicate, as well as very serious, and = even solemn circumstances, which attend her case, must make the liveliest woman, when the =time approaches, think!-The enclosed note of hers to my aunt, brought late last night, is, how=ever, in her usual style.

You and Lucy must be here early to-morrow morning.

What wretched simpletons are we women! Daughters of gew-gaw, folly, ostentation, trifle! -First, we shew our sorry fellow, when not disapproved, to our friends and relations; and take all their judgments upon him. If he has their opinion in his favour, everybody, be he what he will, will praise him; and give him riches, sense, ancestry, and I cannot tell what of qualities that perhaps we shall never find out. Then we shew our presents, our jewels, our laces; and a smile spreads the mouth, and a sparkle gladdens the eye, of every maiden that hangs admiring over them. Ah, silly maidens! if you could look three yards from your noses, you would pity, instead of envying, the milkwhite heifer, dressed in ribbons, and just ready to be led to sacrifice..

Well, then, what comes next? Why, the poor soul, in a few months, by the time perhaps her gratulatory visits are half paid her, begins to find apprehension take place of security. Then is she and all her virgins employed in the wretchedest trifles-If I thought you had forgot them, I would give you a list of them-And the poor fools, wrapping up their jewels in cotton, with sighs that perhaps they have worn them for the last time, and doubtful whom they may next adorn, cover the decked-out milk-white bed with their baby-things. See here! and see here! and, What is the use of this, and of that? asks the curious, and perhaps too fearless maiden. "Why, this is for-" and " That is for-" answer the matrons who have passed the Rubicon.

And to this is your Charlotte reduced!-Aunt Selby, Lucy, come early, that I may shew you my baby-things!-O dear! O dear! O dear!and that you may be able to testify, that I had no design to overlay the little marmouset. Adieu till ten to-morrow morning.

C. G

THE moment our company were gone, Sir Charles came to me; and leading me into my drawing-room, where the lady was, Comfort, my love, said he, your sister.

I hastened to her, (poor lady! she was in tears, and even sobbing,) and clasping my arms about her, Be comforted, be consoled, my dearest Lady Clementina!

O madam! my father, my mother, my Jeronymo are every day expected; who beside, I know not; How shall I look my father, my mother, in the face?

Sir Charles withdrew. He was troubled for her. He sent in Lady L

Your dear friend, madam, said I, and my dear friend, will protect you. Your father and mother would not have had the thoughts of taking so long and troublesome a voyage, had they not resolved to do everything in their power to restore you to peace, and to them.

So the chevalier tells me.

At this time of the year, madam, such a voyage! Your mamma so tender in her health! Such a dislike to the sea! Her whole motive is tenderness and love. She prefers your health, your tranquillity, to her own.

And is not this consideration enough to distress a grateful spirit?-Unworthy Clementina! To every relation, in every action, of late unworthy! What trouble hast thou given thy parents! I cannot, cannot bear to see them!-0 my Lady Grandison, I was ever a perverse creature! Whatever I set my heart upon, I was uneasy, till I had compassed it. My pride, and my perverseness, have cost me dear. But of late I have been more perverse than ever. My heart ran upon coming to England. I could think of nothing till I came. I have tried that experiment. I am sick of it. I do not like England, now I see I cannot be unmolested here. But my favourite for years, was another project. That filled my mind, and helped me to make the sacrifice I did. And here I am come to almost the only country in Europe, which could render my darling wish impracticable. Why went I not to France? I had with me sufficient to have obtained my admission into any order of nuns: and had I been once professed!-I will get away still, I think. Befriend me, my sister! I cannot, I cannot, see my mother!

Sir Charles came in just then. I heard what you last said, madam, said he: Compose yourself, I beseech you. I dreaded to acquaint you with the expected arrival of your parents. But are they not the most indulgent of parents? You have nothing, you shall have nothing, to fear, and you will have everything to hope, from their pre

madam. Lord L- -'s house, I repeat, shall be your asylum, till you shall consent to see them. I cannot be guilty of a prevarication: I will own to them, that I know where you are; but, till you give leave, you shall be as much concealed from their knowledge, as if you were still at your first lodgings, and I myself ignorant of your abode.

A man of honour, said she, her hands lifted up, is more valuable to a woman in trouble, than all the riches of the East! But tell me now, tell me upon your never-forfeited honour, whom, besides my father, mother, and your Jeronymo, do you expect?

My lord the Bishop, madam

Oh! Oh! said she, clapping her hands together, with an inimitable grace and eagerness-I am afraid-But whom else?

Father Marescotti

The good man! will he think it worth his while-But for my father and mother's sake he will-Whom else?

Mrs Beaumont, madam, never intended to set her foot on English ground again; but she has broken through her resolution, to oblige your mother.

Good Mrs Beaumont!-But I am half afraid of her. Well, sir.

Camilla, your poor Camilla, madam.

Poor Camilla! I used her hardly: but teazing never yet did good with me. Remember, sir, they are not to know where I am. Your house, madam, to Lady L, is to be my asylum.-Then, seeing me affected, Gentlest of human hearts, said she, what right have I thus to pain you? Well, sir, drying her eyes, with looks too earnest for her health of mind; tell me, is anybody else expected?

Your cousins Sebastiano and Juliano, madam: but not the General.

Thank Heaven for that!-I love my brother Giacomo; but he is so determined a man! His own lady only can soften his heart.

Sir Charles, by his admirable address, made her tolerably easy by dinner-time on the subject of her friends' expected arrival: and she once owned, that she should be transported with joy to see her father, mother, and Jeronymo, could she assure herself that she could see them with forgiveness in their countenances.

Sir Charles would only be attended at table by Saunders, whom she had seen in Italy. She was much pleased to have it so; but desired Laura might be permitted to attend at the back of her own chair.

I addressed myself to Laura three or four times, as she stood. The lady was pleased; and Laura seemed proud of my notice.

Now and then an involuntary tear filled the lady's eye, as she sat. It was easy to enter into her thoughts, poor lady! on her situation. She was grieved, she said, at the trouble she gave

me; and frequently sought to suppress a sigh. Once, after a reverie of a few minutes: And am I here? said she; In England? At the house of the Chevalier Grandison? Can it be?

After dinner, Lady L, and she, and I, retiring to my drawing-room; What a generous lady, said she, are you! I was afraid to see you, before I saw you: but the moment I beheld you, I embraced a sister. You will allow of my esteem of your Grandison?

Of your love, dear Lady Clementina, and thank you for it. A good man has an interest in every good person's affections.

Such generosity, snatching my hand with both hers, would confirm a doubtful goodness. But, indeed, my esteem for him always soared above person. You know I am a zealous Catholic. You know our doctrine of merits. I would have laid down my life to save his soul. But surely God will be merciful to such a man: and no less so to such a woman, as (putting her arms about me) I have now the honour to embrace.

Mercy, madam, said I, is the darling attribute of the Almighty. He is the God of all men. True-But-And was going to say something farther; but stopt, on Sir Charles's entrance.

Sir Charles, after sitting with us a little while, asked leave of absence for an hour, to look on his friends at Lord G's. We had a charming conversation in the meantime. Our subjects were various. The customs of Italian ladies, and their surprising illiterateness in general, were parts of it. A woman there, it seems, who knew more than her own tongue, was a miracle till within these few years, that the French customs seem prevailing there. Why, madam, the ladies of Italy, with geniuses as fine as that clas sic climate ever produced, are immersed in the pleasures of sense: Singing, dancing, and conversation-gallantry, take up their whole time. One would imagine, that their husbands and fathers thought them only children of this world, and not heirs of a better hope, by the little care taken in improving their understanding: And were it not for the religion of the country, which we call superstition, half the Italian world of women would be looked upon merely as temporary idols, for men to worship for temporary gratifications only. Yet, in their conversationassemblies, men see what they are capable of. But their country, it seems, is in the same uncultivated state as the minds of their women. The garden of the world, as Italy is called, is overrun with weeds: and, for want of cultivation, the very richness of its soil is become its disease. But these reflections I draw rather by deduction from what Lady Clementina said, than from any direct confession of hers. She is fond of her country in its present state: but sensible English travellers speak of it as I have written.

Sir Charles returned within his time. He is kind to be everywhere! for he is the life of every company, and of every individual.

We passed a sweet evening together, and till near eleven o'clock. Were Lady Clementina happy, how happy should we all be!

Sir Charles waited on the ladies home. Lord L- was by that time returned from Lord G's; but was the first of the friendly company that withdrew. Lady G it seems, was all alive in every part of the entertainment. My uncle Selby and she spared not each other. Her lord, I fancy, fared the better for the presence of the Earl and Lady Gertrude, and for her having my uncle to shoot at.

God preserve my grandmamma, and all my dear friends in her neighbourhood, prays Her ever-dutiful

HARRIET GRANDISON.

LETTER CCXC.

LADY GRANDISON.

[In continuation.]

Wednesday, March 7. OUR grief will be your joy, my dearest grandnamma! My uncle, my aunt, Lucy, Emily, Mr Deane! They are just gone: just left me. What a parting!-But Emily! Dear creature! what was her grief, her noble struggle with herself, to conceal her anguish from her guardian!

She will now be yours, and my Aunt Selby's ; and, when once settled, will, must, be happy; for she is good, and you all love her, and will love her the more for this great instance of her =nobleness of mind.

About half an hour before we parted, she begged to speak a few words to me in my closet. I led her thither. When we entered it, she shut the door, and dropt down on her knees. I would have raised her: "but she would not be raised. I clasped my arms about her neck. I have revealed all my folly to you, said she. Forgive the weakness of a poor girl. A thousand, thousand thanks to you, madam, for your indulgent goodness to me. I longed to live with you and my guardian. I placed my whole happiness in the grant. You gave me an opportunity to try the experiment. What I little expected, happened: I was more unhappy than before. I revere your grandmamma: She is a blessed lady! How good was she on your wedding-day, to wish me, poor me! to supply to her the loss of her Harriet! Her goodness, her condescension, that of all your family, overcame me: It would not, perhaps, had I not tried the other experiment. All that I have now to beg of you, is to pardon me for the trouble I must have given to your

VOL. VIII.

noble heart: It is a noble heart, or it could not have borne with me as it has done. But promise to write a letter to me once a-fortnightand permit me to write to you once a-week; and I shall think myself a happy creature. Not a thought of my heart but I will reveal to you. I do promise, my love, my Emily! The correspondence between us will delight me. body shall see any of our letters, but at your choice.

No

Lady L, Lady G, may, madam: they love the poor Emily. Nobody else may, I believe; I shall write so poorly !-But I shall improve as I have more years, and more sense. But my present concern is more for Lady Clementina than for myself. Poor lady! Pray write something of her friends' behaviour to her, and hers to them, to me particularly, besides what you write to your grandmanıma: I shall take it for such a favour! And it will make me look so important! You don't know how proud it will make me; and it will induce your Lucy, and everybody, to shew me everything you write to them and I shall have it in my power to read out of your letters to me something in return; which will look like an acquittal of obligation.

All that she wished me to do, and still more, as occasions offered, I promised.

She arose from her knees; called me by many tender names; kissed one cheek, then the other; then one hand, then the other. I folded her to my fond heart: My sister, my friend, my Emily! I called her. We wetted each other's bosom with our tears; and both went down with red eyes.

Extremely tender, but delicate, was the leave she took of her guardian. The brother, the affectionate friend, and father, I may say, appeared in his unreserved tenderness to her. She hurried into my uncle's coach, which stood ready, when she parted with him, that her emotion might not be too visible. I hastened in after her, lest she should be too much affected; while my aunt, Lucy, and my uncle, were taking their leaves in the hall.

My dearest Emily, I admire you! said I.

Do you, do you?-Best of wives, of women, of friends, of sisters, do you say so?-I behaved not amiss, then?

Amiss! No, my dear: Charmingly, my love! You are great as ever woman was.

How you comfort me!

Adieu! adieu! my best love! said I.—My best Lady Grandison! said she: both in a breath, as from one heart, embracing; and quitting each other with regret; her arms folded about herself, when I left her; as if I were still within them.

I gave my hand to Sir Edward Beauchamp, on stepping out of the coach; for he was ready to attend them; and hurrying into the hall, threw myself into the arms of my aunt. My 3 A

love, said she, take care of yourself: Emily shall not need to be your concern: she will be our

Harriet.

Indeed she shall, said Lucy. Dear girl, she shall be mine: and, thank God! I now have two Harriets instead of one.

me.

My uncle wept like a child at parting with He would have carried it off, smiling in his tears. What, what, sobbed he, shall I do for my girl ! I shall miss, I shall miss, your sau-sau-sauciness sometimes-Was I ever angry with you in my life?

Mr Deane comforted himself, that he should but settle his affairs at Peterborough, and then would make our residence his, wherever we should be.

All of them departed, blessing us, and we them; hoping for a speedy meeting in Northamptonshire. Every one expressed their solicitude for the happiness of Lady Clementina, as well for her own sake as for Sir Charles's and

mine.

Dover, Monday Night, March 12, O. S. HERE we are, my Grandison; my father and mother so indifferent in their healths, that we shall have time to wait for your direction. My mother was so incommoded, that we put in at Antibes; and, by slow journeys, stopping a few days at Paris, proceeded to Calais, where we hired a vessel to bring us hither. My brother and Father Marescotti, are indisposed. Camilla is not well. Mrs Beaumont, to whom we owe infinite obligations, is the life of us all. Have you heard of the dear fugitive, who has given us all so much disturbance, and, at this season of the year, so much fatigue? God grant that she may be safe in your protection, and in her right mind! Had she been so at the time, she had never meditated such a wild, such a disgraceful flight. The heart of the Count of Belvedere is torn in pieces by his impatience. He will soon follow the man and horse whom we dispatch with this. Signor Sebastiano will accompany him. Juliano will stay with us. The fatigue has been rather too much for your Jeronymo but he rejoices, that he has his foot on English ground; the country that gave birth to his Grandison; and in his hopes of seeing his.

kind and skilful Lowther. God grant us a happy meeting; and that no interruption may have been given to your nuptial happiness, by the extravagance of a young creature, which can only be accounted for in her, by the unhappy disorder of her mind! Adieu, adieu, my Grandison!

JERONYMO DELLA PORRETTA.

LETTER CCXCII.

LADY GRANDISON TO MRS SHIRLEY.

Tuesday Morning, Eleven, March 13. letter from Signor Jeronymo. The man had ABOUT two hours ago, Sir Charles received a rode all night. They are all at Dover. four coaches and six, of our own and friends, Sir Charles is already set out; gone, with with him. Saunders is left to attend the Count for them, and their attendants; Mr Lowther of Belvedere to the lodgings taken for him.

The house in Grosvenor Square is ready for the reception of the rest.

As soon as I can get quieter spirits, I will attend Lady Clementina, in order to reassure her, if I find she has presence of mind enough to hear the news. Sir Charles has already induced her to wish the crisis over. It is a crisis. I am almost as much affected for her, as she can be for herself. Yet she has not cruel friends to meet. May the dear lady keep in her right mind!

In what a hurry of spirits I write. You will not wonder. I have not my grandmamma's steadiness of mind. Never, never, shall I be like my grandmamma!

Tuesday, Two o'clock. In Lady L-'s closet. I have, as gently as I could, broken the news of their safe arrival at Dover, to Lady Clementina. She began the subject; and said, she had been praying for the safety of her friends. What will become of me, said she, should mishap befall any one of them? Should the fatigue be too much for either my father or mother, their healths so precarious; or for my Jeronymo, so lately ill !

Sir

After proper prefacings, I hoped, I said, her cares on that subject would soon be over. Charles had some intimation of the likelihood of their arrival at a particular port; and was actually set out with coaches, in hopes of accommodating them, when they did arrive, and to bring them to the house which had been (as she knew before) got ready for their reception.

She looked by turns on me, and on Lady L, in speechless terror: At last, Then I am