Lady Clementina, can I, on your own representation, give it for you?

You know, madam, the sacrifice I have made to the plea of your conscience, not my own. I make no doubt, but parents so indulgent as yours will yield to your reasons, if you can plead conscience against the performance of the filial duty; the more a duty, as it is so gently urged: nay, hardly urged; but by tears, and wishes, which the eyes, not the lips, express; and which if you will perform, your parents will think themselves under an obligation to their child.

Lady Clementina is one of the most generous of women: but consider, madam, in this instance of your preferring your own will to that of the most indulgent of parents, whether there is not an apparent selfishness, inconsistent with your general character, even were you to be as happy in a convent, as you propose. Would you not, in that case, live to yourself, and renounce your parents and family, as parts of that world which you would vow to despise ?-Dear lady! I asked you once before, Is there anything sinful in a sacrament? Such all good Catholics deem matrimony. And shall I ask you, Whether, as self-denial is held to be meritorious in your church, there is not a merit in denying yourself in the case before us, when you can, by perform ing the filial duty, oblige your whole family?

Permit me to say, that, though a Protestant, I am not an enemy to such foundations in general. I could wish, under proper regulations, that we had nunneries among us. I would not, indeed, have the obligation upon nuns be perpetual: let them have liberty, at the end of every two or three years, to renew their vows or other wise by the consent of friends. Celibacy in the clergy is an indispensable law of your church: yet a cardinal has been allowed to lay down the purple, and marry. You know, madam, I must mean Ferdinand of Medicis. Family-reasons, in that case, preponderated, as well at Rome as at Florence.

Of all the women I know, Lady Clementina della Porretta should be the last who should be earnest to take the veil. There can be but two persons in the world, besides herself, who will not be grieved at her choice. We know their reasons. The will of her grandfather, now with God, is against her; and her living parents, and every other person of her family, those two excepted, would be made unhappy if she sequestered herself from the world and them. Clementina has charity: she wishes, she once said, to take a great revenge upon Laurana. Laurana has something to repent of: let her take the veil. The fondness she has for the world, a fondness which could make her break through all the ties of relation and humanity, requires a check: but are any of those in convents more pious, more exemplarily pious, than Clementina is out of them?

Much more could I urge on the same side of

the question but what I have urged has been a task upon me; a task which I could not have performed, had I not preferred to my own, the happiness of you and your family.

May both earthly and heavenly blessings attend your determination, whatever it be, prays, dearest madam,

Your ever faithful friend, affectionate brother,
And humble servant,
CH. GRANDISON.

LETTER CCVII.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON TO SIGNOR JERONYMO DELLA PORRETTA.

London, Saturday, Sept. 18-29. I HAVE Written, my beloved friend, to Lady Clementina; and shall enclose a copy of my letter.

I own that, till I received hers, I thought there was a possibility, though not a probability, that she might change her mind in my favour. I foresaw that you would all join, for familyreasons, to press her to marry: and when, thought I, she finds herself very earnestly urged, it is possible that she will forego her scruples, and, proposing some conditions for herself, will honour with her hand the man whom she has avowedly honoured with a place in her heart, rather than any other. The malady she has been afflicted with, often leaves, for some time, an unsteadiness in the mind: my absence, as I proposed to settle in my native country, never more, perhaps, to return to Italy; the high notions she has of obligation and gratitude; her declared confidence in my honour and affection; all co-operating, she may, thought I, change her mind; and if she does, I cannot doubt the favour of her friends. It was not, my Jeronymo, presumptuous to hope. It was justice to Clementina to attend the event, and to wait for the promised letter: but now, that I see you are all of one mind, and that the dear lady, though vehemently urged by all her friends to marry some other man, can appeal to me only as to her fourth brother, and a man not interested in the event-I give up all my hopes.

I have written accordingly to your dear Clementina; but it could not be expected that I should give the argument all the weight that might be given it: yet, being of opinion that she was in duty obliged to yield to the entreaties of all her friends, I have been honest. But, surely, no man ever was involved in so many difficult situations as your Grandison; who yet never, by enterprize or rashness, was led out of the plain path into difficulties so uncommon.

You wish, my dear friend, that I would set an example to your excellent sister. I will unbosom my heart to you.

There is a lady, an English lady, beautiful as an angel, but whose beauty is her least perfection, either in my eyes or her own: had I never known Clementina, I could have loved her, and only her, of all the women I ever beheld. It would not be doing her justice if I could not say, I do love her; but with a flame as pure as the heart of Clementina, or as her own heart, can boast. Clementina's distressed mind affected me: I imputed her sufferings to her esteem for me. The farewell interview denied her, she demonstrated, I thought, so firm an affection for me, at the same time that she was to me, what I may truly call a first love; that, though the difficulties in my way seemed insuperable, I thought it became me, in honour, in gratitude, to hold myself in suspense, and not offer to make my addresses to any other woman, till the destiny of the dear Clementina was determined.

It would look like vanity in me to tell my Jeronymo how many proposals, from the partial friends of women of rank and merit superior to my own, I thought myself obliged, in honour to the ladies themselves, to decline: but my heart never suffered uneasiness from the uncertainty I was in of ever succeeding with your beloved sister, but on this lady's account. I presume not, however, to say, I could have succeeded, had I thought myself at liberty to make my addresses to her yet, when I suffered myself to balance, because of my uncertainty with your Clementina, I had hopes, from the interest my two sisters had with her, (her affections disengaged,) that, had I been at liberty to make my addresses to her, I might.

Shall I, my dear Jeronymo, own the truth? The two noblest-minded women in the world, when I went over to Italy, on the invitation of my lord the Bishop, held almost an equal interest in my heart; and I was thereby enabled justly, and with the greater command of my self, to declare to the Marchioness, and the General, at my last going over, that I held myself bound to you; but that your sister, and you all, were free. But when the dear Clementina began to shew signs of recovery, and seemed to confirm the hopes I had of her partiality to me; and my gratitude and attachment seemed of importance to her complete restoration; then, my Jeronymo, did I content myself with wishing another husband to the English lady, more worthy of her than my embarrassed situation could have made me. And when I farther experienced the condescending goodness of your whole family, all united in my favour; I had not a wish but for your Clementina.

What a disappointinent, my Jeronymo, was her rejection of me!-obliged, as I was, to admire the noble lady the more for her motives of rejecting me.

And now, my dear friend, what is your wish? That I shall set your sister an example? How can I? Is marriage in my power? There is but

one woman in the world, now your dear Clementina has refused me, that I can think worthy of succeeding her in my affections, though there are thousands of whom I am not worthy. And ought that lady to accept of a man whose heart had been another's, and that other living, and single, and still honouring him with so much of her regard, as may be thought sufficient to attach a grateful heart, and occasion a divided love? Clementina herself is not more truly delicate than this lady. Indeed, Jeronymo, I am ready, when I contemplate my situation, on a supposition of making my addresses to her, to give up myself, as the unworthiest of her favour of all the men I know; and she has for an admirer almost every man who sees her-Even Olivia admires her! Can I do justice to the merits of both, and yet not appear to be divided by a double love?-For I will own to all the world my affection for Clementina; and, as once it was encouraged by her whole family, glory in it.

You see, my Jeronymo, how I am circumstanced. The example, I fear, must come from Italy; not from England. Yet say I not this from punctilio-sake: it is not in my power to set it, as it is in your Clementina's; it would be presumption to suppose it is. Clementina has not an aversion to the state: she cannot to the man you have in view, since prepossession in favour of another is over.-This is a hard push upon me. I presume not to say what Clementina will, what she can do: but she is naturally the most dutiful of children, and has a high sense of the more than common obligations she owes to parents, to brothers, to whom she has as unhappily as involuntarily given great distress: difference in religion, the motive of her rejecting me, is not in the question: filial duty is an article of religion.

I do myself the honour of writing to the Marchioness, to the General, to Father Marescotti, and to Mr Lowther. May the Almighty perfect your recovery, my Jeronymo; and preserve in health and spirits the dear Clementina!-and may every other laudable wish of the hearts of a family so truly excellent, be granted to them! -prays, my dear Jeronymo, the friend who expects to see you in England; the friend who loves you as he loves his own heart; and equally honours all of your name; and will, so long as he is

CHARLES GRANDISON.

LETTER CCVIII.

MRS REEVES TO MISS BYRON.

Tuesday, Sept. 5.

O My dear cousin! I am now sure you will be the happiest of women! Sir Charles Grandison made me a visit this day.➡How Mr Reeves

and I rejoiced to see him! We had but just before been called upon, by a line from Lady G―, to rejoice with her on her brother's happy arrival. He said, he was under obligation to go to Windsor and Hampshire, upon extraordinary occasions; but he could not go till he had paid his respects to us, as well for our own sakes, as to inquire after your health. He had received, he said, some disagreeable intimations in relation to it. We told him you were not well: but we hoped not dangerously ill. He said so many kind, tender, yet respectful things of you-Ŏ my Harriet! I am sure, and so is Mr Reeves, he loves you dearly. Yet we both wondered that he did not talk of paying you a visit. But he may have great matters in hand.-But what matters can be so great as not to be postponed, if he loves you?-and that he certainly does. Í should not have known how to contain my joy before him, had he declared himself your lover. He condescendingly asked to see my little boy -Was not that very good of him? He would have won my heart by this condescension, had he not had a great share of it before-For your sake, my cousin. You know I cannot mean otherwise and you know that, except Mr Reeves and my little boy, I love my Harriet better than anybody in the world. Nobody in Northamptonshire, I am sure, will take exception at this.

:

I thought I would write to you of this kind visit: be well now, my dear: all things, I am sure, will come about for good: God grant they may!-I dare say he will visit you in Northamptonshire: and, if he does, what can be his motive? Not mere friendship: Sir Charles Grandison is no trifler!

I know you will be sorry to hear that Lady Betty Williams is in great affliction. Miss Williams has run away with an ensign, who is not worth a shilling: he is, on the contrary, over head and ears, as the saying is, in debt. Such a mere girl!-But what shall we say?

Miss Cantillon has made a foolish step. Lord bless me! I think girls, in these days, are bewitched. A nominal captain too! Her mother vows, they shall both starve for her: and they have no other dependence. She cannot live without her pleasures: neither can he without nis. A Ranelagh fop! Poor wretches! what will become of them? For everything is in her mother's power, as to fortune. She has been met by Miss Allestree; and looked so shy! so silly! so slatternly! Unhappy coquettish thing! Well, but God bless you, my dear !-My nursery calls upon me: the dear little soul is so fond of me! Adieu. Compliments to everybody I have so much reason to love: Mr Reeves's too. Once more, adieu.

ELIZA REEVES.

LETTER CCIX.

MISS BYRON TO MRS REEVES.

Selby-House, Friday, Sept. 8. YOUR kind letter, my dear cousin, has, at the same time, delighted and pained me. I rejoice in the declared esteem of one of the best of men ; and I honour him for his friendly love expressed to you and my cousin, in the visit he made you: but I am pained at your calling upon me (in pity to my weakness, shall I call it? a weakness so ill concealed) to rejoice, that the excellent man, when he has dispatched all his affairs of consequence, and has nothing else to do, may possibly, for you cannot be certain, make me a visit in Northamptonshire.-O, my cousin! and were his absence, and the apprehension of his being the husband of another woman, think you, the occasion of my indisposition; that I must now, that the other affair seems determined in a manner so unexpected, be bid at once to be well?

Sir Charles Grandison, my dear cousin, may honour us with the prognosticated visit, or not, as he pleases: but were he to declare himself my lover, my heart would not be so joyful as you seem to expect, if Lady Clementina is to be unhappy. What though the refusal of marriage was hers; was not that refusal the greatest sacrifice that ever woman made to her superior duty? Does she not still avow her love to him? And must he not, ought he not, ever to love her? And here my pride puts in its claim to attentionShall your Harriet sit down and think herself happy in a second-place love? Yet let me own to you, my cousin, that Sir Charles Grandison is dearer to me than all else that I hold most dear in this world: and if Clementina could be not un-happy, Happy I have no notion she can be without him, and he were to declare himself my lover; affectation, be gone! I would say; I will trust to my own heart, and to my future conduct, to make for myself an interest in his affections, that should enrich my content; in other words, that should make me more contented.

But time will soon determine my destiny: I will have patience to wait its determination. I make no doubt but he has sufficient reasons for all he does.

The

I am as much delighted, as you could be, at the notice he took of your dear infant. brave must be humane: and what greater instance of humanity can be shewn, than for grown persons to look back upon the state they were once themselves in, with tenderness and compassion?

I am very sorry for the cause of Lady Betty's affliction. Pity! the good lady took not-But

I will not be severe, after I have said, that children's faults are not always originally their own. Poor Miss Cantillon !-But she was not under age; and as her punishment was of her own choosing-I am sorry, however, for both. I hope, after they have smarted, something will be done for the poor wretches. Good parents will be placable; bad ones, or such as have not given good examples, ought to be so.

God continue to you, my dear cousins both, your present comforts, and increase your pleasures! for all your pleasures are innocent ones; prays

Your ever obliged and affectionate
HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER CCX.

MISS BYRON TO LADY G

Selby-House, Wedn. Sept. 20. MY DEAREST LADY G- ! Do you know what is become of your brother? My grandmamma Shirley has seen his ghost; and talked with it near an hour; and then it vanished. Be not surprised, my dear creature. I am still in amaze at the account my grandmamma gives us of its appearance, discourse, and vanishing! Nor was the dear parent in a reverie. It happened in the middle of the afternoon, all in broad day.

Thus she tells it:

"I was sitting," said she," in my own draw ing room, yesterday, by myself; when in came James, to whom it first appeared, and told me, that a gentleman desired to be introduced to me. I was reading Sherlock upon Death, with that cheerfulness with which I always meditate the subject. I gave orders for his admittance; and in came, to appearance, one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life, in a ridingdress. It was a courteous ghost: it saluted me; or, at least, I thought it did: for it answering to the description that you, my Harriet, had given me of that amiable man, I was surprised. But, contrary to the manner of ghosts, it spoke first-Venerable lady, it called me; and said, its name was Grandison, in a voice-so like what I had heard you speak of his, that I had no doubt but it was Sir Charles Grandison himself; and was ready to fall down to welcome him.

"It took its place by me: You, madam, said it, will forgive this intrusion: and it made several fine speeches, with an air so modest, so manly. It had almost all the talk to itself. I could only bow, and be pleased; for still I thought it was corporally and indeed Sir Charles Grandison. It said, that it had but a very little while to stay: it must reach, I don't know what place that night. What, said I, will you not go to Selby-House? Will you not see my daughter

Byron? Will you not see her Aunt Selby? No, it desired to be excused. It talked of leaving a packet behind it ; and seemed to pull out of its pocket a parcel of letters sealed up. It broke the seal, and laid the parcel on the table before me. It refused refreshment. It desired, in a courtly manner, an answer to what it had discoursed upon-Made a profound reverence-and -vanished."

And now, my dear Lady G—, let me repeat my question; What is become of your brother?

Forgive me this light, this amusing manner. My grandmamma speaks of this visit as an appearance, so sudden, so short, and nobody seeing him but she; that it gave a kind of amusing levity to my pen, and I could not resist the temptation I was under to surprise you, as he has done us all. How could he take such a journey, see nobody but my grandmamma, and fly the country? Did he do it to spare us, or to spare himself?

The direct truth is this: My grandmamma was sitting by herself, as above: James told her, as above, that a gentleman desired to be introduced to her. He was introduced. He called himself by his own name; took her hand; saluted her-Your character, madam, and mine, said he, are so well known to each other, that though I never before had the honour of approaching you, I may presume upon your pardon for this intrusion.

He then launched out in the praises of your happy friend. With what delight did the dear, the indulgent parent, repeat them from his mouth! I hope she mingled not her own partialities with them, whether I deserve them, or not; for sweet is praise, from those we wish to love us. And then he said, You see before you, madam, a man glorying in his affection to one of the most excellent of your sex! an Italian lady; the pride of Italy! And who, from motives which cannot be withstood, has rejected him, at the very time that, all her friends consenting, and innumerable difficulties overcome, he expected that she would yield her hand to his wishes-And they were his wishes. My friendship for the dear Miss Byron [You and she must authorize me to call it by a still dearer name, before I dare do it is well known that also has been my pride. I know too well what belongs to female delicacy in general, and particularly to that of Miss Byron, to address myself first to her, on the subject which occasions you this trouble. I am not accustomed to make professions, not even to ladies-Is it consistent with your notions of delicacy, madam? Will it be with Mr and Mrs Selby's; to give your interest in favour of a man who is thus situated?-A rejected man! A man who dares to own, that the rejection was a disappointment to him; and that he tenderly loved the fair rejecter? If it will, and Miss Byron can accept the tender of a heart, that has