der your life or hers uncomfortable by their little jealousies; I would advise you to marry. The man or woman deserves not to be benefited in the disposition of your affairs, that would wish you to continue in the hands of mean people, and to rob you of the joys of confidence, and the comfort of tender help, from an equal, or from one who deserves to be made your equal, in degree. Only, my lord, marry so, as not to defeat your own end: marry not a gay creature, who will be fluttering about in public, while you are groaning in your chamber, and wishing for her presence.

Blessings on your heart, my nephew! Best of men! I can hold no longer. There was no bearing, before, your generosity: what can I say now?—But you must be in earnest.

Have you, my lord, asked I, any lady in your eye?

No, said he indeed I have not.

I was the better pleased with him, that he had not; because I was afraid, that, like our eighth Henry, he had some other woman in view, which might have made him more uneasy than he would otherwise have been with Giffard: for though it were better that he should marry, than live in scandal; and a woman of untainted character, rather than one who had let the world see that she could take a price for her honour; yet I thought him better justified in his complaints of that woman's misbehaviour, than in the other case he would have been: and that it was a happiness to both, (if a right use were made of the event,) that they had been unable to live on, as they had set out.

He told me, that he should think himself the happiest of men, if I could find out, and recommend to him, a woman, that I thought worthy of his addresses; and even would court her for him.

Your lordship ought not to expect fortune.
I do not.

She should be a gentlewoman by birth and education; a woman of a serious turn; such a one is not likely in affluence to run into those scenes of life, from which, perhaps only want of fortune has restrained the gayer creature. I would not have your lordship fix an age, though I think you should not marry a girl. Some women at thirty are more discreet than others at forty and if your lordship should be blessed with a child or two to inherit your great estate, that happy event would domesticate the lady, and make your latter years more happy than your former.

My lord held up his hands and eyes, and tears seemed to make themselves furrows on his cheeks.

He made me look at him, by what he said on this occasion, and with anger, till he explained himself.

By my soul, said he, and clapped his two lifted-up hands together, I hate your father: I

never heartily loved him; but now I hate him more than ever I did in my life. My lord!

Don't be surprised. I hate him for keeping so long abroad a son, who would have converted us both. Lessons of morality, given in so noble a manner by regular practice, rather than by preaching theory, (those were his words,) not only where there is no interest proposed to be served, but against interest, must have subdued us both; and that by our own consents. O my sister! and he clasped his hands, and lifted up his eyes, as if he had the dear object of his brotherly address before him; how have you blessed me in your son!

This apostrophe to my mother affected me. What a mixture is there in the character of Lord W! What a good man might he have made, had he been later his own master!—His father died before he was of age.

He declared, that I had described the very wife he wished to have. Find out such a one for me, my dear kinsman, said he; and I give you a carte blanche: but let her not be younger than between forty and fifty. Make the settlements for me: I am very rich: I will sign them blindfold. If the lady be such a one as you say I ought to love, I will love her: only let her say, she can be grateful for my love, and for the provision you shall direct me to make for her; and my first interview with her shall be at the altar.

I think, my friend, I have in my eye such a woman as my lord ought to do very handsome things for, if she condescend to have him. I will not tell you, not even you, whom I mean, till I know she will encourage such a proposal; and, for her own fortune's sake, I think she should: but I had her not in my thoughts when I proposed to my lord the character of the woman he should wish for. Adieu, my dear friend.

LETTER XCV.

MISS BYRON TO MISS SELBY.

Tuesday, March 21. DR BARTLETT went to town yesterday. He returned early enough to breakfast with us. He found at dinner with his patron, the whole Danby family and Mr Sylvester; as also, the two masters of the young gentlemen, with Mr Galliard, whose son is in love with Miss Danby, and she with him. There all the parties had confirmed to them the generous goodness of Sir Charles, of which he had assured Mr Sylvester and the two brothers and sister before.

I am sorry, methinks, the Doctor went to town: we should otherwise, perhaps, have had the particulars of all, from the pen of the bene

volent man. Such joy, such admiration, such gratitude, the Doctor says, were expressed from every mouth, that his own eyes, as well as Mr Sylvester's, and most of those present, more than once were ready to overflow.

Everything was there settled, and even a match proposed by Sir Charles, and the proposal received with approbation on both sides, between the elder Miss Galliard, and that audacious young man the drug-merchant; who recovered, by his behaviour in this meeting, his reputation with Sir Charles, and everybody.

The Doctor says, that Mr Hervey and Mr Poussin, the two masters of the young gentle men, are very worthy men; so is Mr Galliard: and they behaved so handsomely on the occasion, that Sir Charles expressed himself highly pleased with them all. For Mr Hervey and Mr Galliard offered to accept of less money than Sir Charles made the young people worth; the one for a portion with Miss Danby; the other for admitting the elder Danby into a partnership with him, on his marriage with his niece: but Sir Charles had no notion, he said, of putting young men, of good characters and abilities, to difficulties at their entrance into the world: the greatest expenses, he observed, were then incurred. In slight or in scanty beginnings, scanty plans must be laid, and pursued. Mr Galliard then declared, that the younger Danby should have the handsomer fortune with his daughter, if she approved of him, for the very handsome one Miss Danby would carry to his son.

Sir Charles's example, in short, fired every one with emulation; and three marriages, with the happiest prospects, are likely very soon to follow these noble instances of generosity. Mr Sylvester proposed the celebration in one day: in that case, the gentlemen joined to hope Sir Charles would honour them with his presence. He assentingly bowed. How many families are here, at once, made happy!

Dr Bartlett, after he had given us this relation, said, on our joining in one general blessing of his patron, You know not, ladies, you know not, my lord, what a general philanthropist your brother is his whole delight is in doing good. It has always been so: and to mend the hearts, as well as fortunes of men, is his glory.

We could not but congratulate the Doctor on his having so considerable a hand (as Sir Charles always, Lord L― said, delighted to own) in cultivating his innate good principles, at so critical a time of life, as that was, in which they became acquainted.

The Doctor very modestly received the compliment, and, to waive our praises, gave us another instance of the great manner in which Sir Charles conferred benefits; as follows:

He once, said the Doctor, when his fortune was not what it now is, lent a very honest man, a merchant of Leghorn, when he resided there, (as he did sometimes for a month or two toge

ther, for the conveniency of the English chapel,) a considerable sum; and took his bond for it. After a while, things not answering to the poor man's expectation, Mr Grandison took notice to me, said the Doctor, that he appeared greatly depressed and dejected, and occasionally came into his company with such a sense of obligation in his countenance and behaviour, that he could not bear it; and why, said he, should I keep it in my power to distress a man, whose modesty and diffidence shew that he deserves to be made easy?-I may die suddenly; my executors may think it but justice to exact payment; and that exaction may involve him in as great difficulties as those were, from which the loan delivered him.-I will make his heart light. Instead of suffering him to sigh over his uncertain prospects, at his board, or in his bed, I will make both his board and his bed easy to him. His wife and his five children shall rejoice with him; they shall see the good man's countenance, as it used to do, shine upon them; and occasionally meet mine with grateful comfort.

He then cancelled the bond; and at the same time, fearing the man's distress might be deeper than he owned, offered him the loan of a farther sum. But, by his behaviour upon it, I found, said Mr Grandison, that the sum he owed, and the doubt he had of being able to pay it in time, were the whole of the honest man's grievance. He declined, with gratitude, the additional offer, and walked, ever after, erect.

He is now living, and happy, proceeded the Doctor; and just before Mr Grandison left Italy, would have made him some part of payment, from the happier turn in his affairs; which, probably, was owing to his revived spirits; but Mr Grandison asked, what he thought he meant, when he cancelled the obligation?-Yet he told him, that it was not wrong in him to make the tender; for free minds, he said, loved not to be ungenerously dealt with.

What a man is this, Lucy!

No wonder, thus gloriously employed, with my Lord Wand the Danbys, said Lord L, and perhaps in other acts of goodness that we know nothing of, besides the duties of his executorship, that we are deprived of his company! But some of these, as he has so good a friend as Dr Bartlett, he might transfer to him-and oblige us more with his presence; and the rather, as he declares it would be obliging

himself.

Ah, my lord! said the Doctor, and looked round him, his eyes dwelling longest on meYou don't know-He stopped. We all were silent. He proceeded-Sir Charles Grandison does nothing without reason: a good man must have difficulties to encounter with, that a mere man of the world would not be embarrassed by.But how I engage your attention, ladies!

The Doctor arose; for breakfast was over.Dear Doctor, said Miss Grandison, don't leave

us-As to that Bologna, that Camilla, that bishop-Tell us more of them, dear Doctor. Excuse me, ladies; excuse me, my lord. He bowed, and withdrew.

How we looked at one another! How the fool, in particular, blushed! How her heart throbbed!-At what?—

But, Lucy, give me your opinion-Dr Bartlett guesses, that I am far from being indifferent to Sir Charles Grandison; he must be assured, that my own heart must be absolutely void of benevolence, if I did not more and more esteem Sir Charles, for his; and would Dr Bartlett be so cruel, as to contribute to a flame that, perhaps, is with difficulty kept from blazing out, as one hears new instances of his generous goodness, if he knew that Sir Charles Grandison was so engaged, as to render it impossible— What shall I say?-O this cruel, cruel suspense! What hopes, what fears, what contradictory conjectures!-But all will too soon perhaps-Here he is come-Sir Charles Grandison is come

O no!-A false alarm !-He is not come: it is only my Lord L― returning from an airing.

I could beat this girl! this Emily-It was owing to her!-A chit!-How we have fluttered each other!-But send for me down to Northamptonshire, my dear friends, before I am quite a fool.

PRAY-Do you know, Lucy, what is the business that calls Mr Deane to town, at this season of the year? He has made a visit to Sir Charles Grandison: for Dr Bartlett told me, as a grateful compliment, that Sir Charles was much pleased with him; yet Mr Deane did not tell me, that he designed it. I beseech you, my dear friends -Do not-But you would not; you could not! -I would be torn in pieces: I would not accept of-I don't know what I would say. Only add not disgrace to distress.-But I am safe, if nothing be done but at the motion of my grandmamma and aunt Selby. They would not permit Mr Deane, or anybody, to make improper visits. But don't you think, that it must look particular to Sir Charles, to have a visit paid him by a man expressing for me so much undeserved tenderness and affection, so long after the affair was over which afforded him a motive for it?-I dread, as much for Mr Deane's sake as my own, everything that may be construed into officiousness or particularity, by so nice a discerner. Does he not say, that no man is more quick-sighted than himself, to those faults in women which are owing to want of delicacy?

I have been very earnest with Lord and Lady L and Miss Grandison, that they do not suffer their friendship for me to lay me under any difficulties with their brother. They all took my meaning, and promised to consult my punctilio, as well as my inclination. Miss Grandi

son was more kindly in earnest, in her assurances of this nature, than I was afraid she would be: and my lord said, it was fit that I should find even niceness gratified, in this particular. [I absolutely confide in you, Lucy, to place hooks where I forget to put them; and where, in your delicate mind, you think I ought to put them; that they may direct your eye (when you come to read out before my uncle) to omit those passages which very few men have delicacy or seriousness enough to be trusted with. Yet, a mighty piece of sagacity, to find out a girl of little more than twenty, in love, as it is called! and to make a jest of her for it!]-[But I am peevish, as well as saucy.-This also goes between hooks.]

Adieu, my dear.

LETTER XCVI.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO DR BARTLETT.

Monday Night, March 20.

I AM very much dissatisfied with myself, my dear Dr Bartlett. What pains have I taken, to conquer those sudden gusts of passion, to which, from my early youth, I have been subject, as you have often heard me confess! yet to find, at times, that I am unequal-to myself, shall I say?-To myself I will say; since I have been so much amended by your precepts and example. But I will give you the occasion.

My guests, and you, had but just left me, when the wretched Jervois, and her O'Hara, and another bullying man, desired to speak with

me.

I bade the servant shew the woman into the drawing-room next my study, and the men into the adjoining parlour; but they both followed her into the drawing-room. I went to her, and, after a little stiff civility, (I could not help it,) asked, if these gentlemen had business with me?

That gentleman is Major O'Hara, sir; he is my husband. That gentleman is Captain Salmonet: he is the Major's brother-in-law. He is an officer of equal worth and bravery.

They gave themselves airs of importance and familiarity; and the Major motioned, as if he would have taken my hand.

I encouraged not the motion. Will you, gentlemen, walk this way?

I led the way to my study. The woman arose, and would have come with them.

If you please to stay where you are, madam, I will attend you presently.

They entered, and, as if they would have me think them connoisseurs, began to admire the globes, the orrery, the pictures, the busts.

I took off that sort of attention-Pray, gentlemen, what are your commands with me? I am called Major O'Hara, sir; I am the hus

This house, in which, however, you are an intruder, sir, is your protection; or that motion, and that air, if you mean anything by either, would cost you dear.

I am, sir, the protector of my wife; you have insulted her, sir

Have I insulted your wife, sir?—And I stepped up to him; but just in time recovered myself, remembering where I was-Take care, sir -but you are safe here-Frederick, wait upon the gentlemen to the door

Frederick was not in hearing; the well-meaning man, apprehending consequences, went, it seems, into the offices, to get together some of his fellow-servants.

Salmonet, putting himself in a violent motion, swore, that he would stand by his friend, his brother, to the last drop of his blood; and, in a posture of offence, drew his sword half way. I wish, friend, said I, (but could hardly contain myself,) that I were in your house, instead of your being in mine.-But if you would have your sword broken over your head, draw it quite.

He did, with a vapour. D-n him, he said, if he bore that! Mine own house, on such an insult as this, should not be my protection; and, retreating, he put himself into a posture of defence.

Now, Major! Now, Major! said the wicked

woman.

Her Major also drew, making wretched gri

maces.

I was dressed. I knew not but the men were assassins. I drew, put by Salmonet's sword, closed with him, disarmed him, and, by the same effort, laid him on the floor.

O'Hara, skipping about, as if he watched for an opportunity to make a push with safety to himself, lost his sword, by the usual trick whereby a man, anything skilled in his weapons, knows how sometimes to disarm a less skilful adversary.

The woman screamed, and ran into the hall. I turned the two men, first one, then the other, out of the room, with a contempt that they deserved; and Frederick, Richard, and Jerry, who by that time were got together in the hall, a little too roughly, perhaps, turned them into the square.

They limped into the coach they came in ; the woman, in terror, was already in it. They cursed, swore, and threatened.

The pretended Captain, putting his body halfway out of the coach, bid the servants tell me, that I was-that I was-and, avoiding a worse name, as it seemed—no gentleman! and that he would find an opportunity to make me repent the treatment I had given to men of honour, and to a lady.

The Major, in eagerness to say something, by way of resentment and menace likewise-beginning with damning his blood-had his in

They forgot to ask for their swords; and one of them left his hat behind him.

You cannot imagine, my dear Dr Bartlett, how much this idle affair has disturbed me; I cannot forgive myself-to suffer myself to be provoked, by two such men, to violate the sanction of my own house. Yet they came, no doubt, to bully and provoke me; or to lay a foundation for a demand, that they knew, if personally made, must do it.

My only excuse to myself is, that there were two of them; and that, though I drew, yet I had the command of myself so far as only to defend myself, when I might have done anything with them. I have generally found, that those that are the readiest to give offence, are the unfittest, when brought to the test, to support their own insolence.

But my Emily! my poor Emily! How must she be terrified !-I will be with you very soon. Let her not know anything of this idle affair; nor anybody but Lord L

Tuesday Morning.

I HAVE just parted with one Blagrave, an attorney, who already had been ordered to proceed against me; but, out of regard to my character, and having, as he owned, no great opinion of his clients, he thought fit to come to me in person, to acquaint me of it, and to inform himself from me of the whole affair.

The gentleman's civility entitled him to expect an account of it; I gave it him.

He told me, that if I pleased to restore the swords, and the hat, by him, and would promise not to stop the future quarterly payments of the 2001. a-year, about which they were very apprehensive; he dared to say, that, after such an exertion of spirit, as he called a choleric excess, I should not hear any more of them for one while; since he believed they had only been trying an experiment; which had been carried farther, he dared to say, than they had designed it should.

He hinted his opinion, that the men were common men of the town; and that they had never been honoured with commissions in any service.

The woman (I know not by what name to call her, since it is very probable, that she has not a real title to that of O'Hara) was taken out of the coach in violent hysterics, as O'Hara told him; who, in consulting Mr Blagrave, may be supposed to aggravate matters, in order to lay a foundation for an action of damages.

She accused the men of cowardice before Mr Blagrave; and that in very opprobrious terms. They excused themselves, as being loath to