generous wishes to promote the good understanding of neighbours; and to the compassion it was in his nature to shew to an unsuccessful rival.

Sir Charles then turning to Lucy; May I, Miss Selby, said he, do you think, without being too deep a designer, ask leave of Miss Byron, on the presumption of her goodness to me, to bring Mr Greville to drink tea with her tomorrow in the afternoon?

Your servant, Sir Charles, answered Lucy, smiling. But what say you, cousin Byron, to this question?

This house is not mine, replied I; but I dare say I may be allowed the liberty, in the names of my uncle and aunt, to answer, that any person will be welcome to Selby-House, whom Sir Charles Grandison shall think proper to bring with him.

Mr Greville, said Sir Charles, professes himself unable to see any of you (Miss Byron, in particular) without an introducer. He makes a high compliment to me, when he supposes me to be a proper one. If you give me leave, (bowing to my uncle and aunt,) I will answer him to his wishes; and hope, when he comes, everything will be passed by in silence that has happened between him and me.

Two or three lively things passed between Lucy and Sir Charles, on his repetition of her word designer. She began with advantage, but did not hold it; yet he gave her consequence in the little debate, at his own expense, as he seemed to intend.

My grandmamma will go to her own church; but will be here at dinner, and the rest of the day. I have a thousand things more to say, all agreeable; but it is now late, and a drowsy fit has come upon me. I will welcome it. Adieu, adieu, my dear ladies! Felicitate, I am sure you will,

Your ever obliged, ever devoted,
HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER CCXXV.

MISS BYRON.

[In continuation.]

Sunday Noon, Oct. 15. WE were told, there would be a crowded church this morning, in expectation of seeing the new humble servant of Miss Byron attending her thither for it is everywhere known, that Sir Charles Grandison is come down to make his addresses to the young creature who is happy in every one's love and good wishes; and all is now said to have been settled between him and us, by his noble sister, and Lord G-, and Dr Bartlett, when they were with us. You

see

what credit you did us by your kind visit, my dear.-And we are to be married-O my dear Lady G- -! you cannot imagine how soon.

Many of the neighbourhood seemed disappointed, when they saw me led in by my uncle, as Mr Deane led my aunt, and Nancy and Lucy only attended by their brother. But it was not long before Mr Greville, Mr Fenwick, and Sir Charles, entered, and went into the pew of the former; which is over against ours. Mr Greville and Mr Fenwick bowed low to us, severally, the moment they went into the pew, and to several others of the gentry.

Sir Charles had first other devoirs to pay: To false shame, you have said, he was always superior. I was delighted to see the example he set. He paid us his second compliments with a grace peculiar to himself. I felt my face glow, on the whispering that went round. I thought I read in every eye, admiration of him, even through the sticks of some of the ladies' fans.

What a difference was there between the two men and him in their behaviour, throughout both the service and sermon! Yet who ever beheld two of the three so decent, so attentive, so reverent, I may say, before? Were all who call themselves gentlemen (thought I, more than once) like this, the world would yet be a good world.

Mr Greville had his arm in a sling. He seemed highly delighted with his guest; so did Mr Fenwick. When the sermon was ended, Mr Greville held the pew door ready opened, to attend our movements; and when we were in motion to go, he, taking officiously Sir Charles's hand, bent towards us. Sir Charles met us at our pew door: he approached us with that easy grace peculiar to himself, and offered, with a profound respect, his hand to me.

This was equal to a public declaration. It took everybody's attention. He is not ashamed to avow in public, what he thinks fit to own in private.

I was humbled more than exalted by the general notice. Mr Greville (bold, yet low man!) made a motion, as if he gave the hand that Sir Charles took. Mr Fenwick offered his hand to Lucy. Mr Greville led my aunt; and not speaking low, (subtle as a serpent!) My plaguy horse, said he, looking at his sling, knew not his master. I invite myself to tea with you, madam, in the afternoon. You will supply my lame arm, I hope, yourself.

There is no such thing as keeping private one's movements in a country town, if one would. One of our servants reported the general approbation. It is a pleasure surely, my dear ladies, to be addressed to by a man of whom every one approves. What a poor figure must she make, who gives way to a courtship from a man commonly deemed unworthy of her! Such women, indeed, commonly confess indirectly the folly, by carrying on the affair clandestinely.

Sunday Evening. O My dear! I have been strangely disconcerted by means of Mr Greville. He is a strange man. But I will lead to it in course.

We all went to church again in the afternoon. Everybody who knew Mr Greville, took it for a high piece of politeness in him to his guest, that he came twice the same day to church. Sir Charles edified everybody by his cheerful piety. Are you not of opinion, my dear Lady Gthat wickedness may be always put out of countenance by a person who has an established character for goodness, and who is not ashamed of doing his duty in the public eye? Methinks I could wish that all the profligates in the parish had their seats around that of a man who has fortitude enough to dare to be good. The text was a happy one to this purpose: The words of our Saviour: "Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with the holy angels."

Sir Charles led my aunt to her coach, as Mr Greville officiously, but properly for his views, did me. We found Mr Fenwick at Selby-House, talking to my grandmamma on the new subject. She dined with us; but, not being very well, chose to retire to her devotions in my closet, while we went to church, she having been at her own in the morning.

We all received Mr Greville with civility. He affects to be thought a wit, you know, and a great joker. Some men cannot appear to advantage, without making their friend a butt to shoot at. Fenwick and he tried to play upon each other, as usual. Sir Charles lent each his smile; and, whatever he thought of them, shewed not a contempt of their great-boy snip-snap. But, at last, my grandmamma and aunt engaged Sir Charles in a conversation, which made the gentlemen so silent, and so attentive, that, had they not flashed a good deal at each other before, one might have thought them a little dis

creet.

Nobody took the least notice of what had passed between Mr Greville and Sir Charles, till Mr Greville touched upon the subject to me. He desired an audience ten minutes, as he said; and, upon his declaration, that it was the last he would ever ask of me on this subject; and upon my grandmamma's saying, Oblige Mr Greville, my dear; I permitted him to draw me to the window.

His address was nearly in the following words; not speaking so low, but every one might hear him, though he said aloud, Nobody must but

ine.

I must account myself very unhappy, madam, in having never been able to incline you to shew me favour. You may think me vain: I believe

I am so: But I may take to myself the advantages and qualities which everybody allows me. I have an estate that will warrant my addresses to a woman of the first rank; and it is free, and unencumbered. I am not an ill-natured man. I love my jest, 'tis true; but I love my friend. You good women generally do not like a man the less for having something to mend in him. I could say a great deal more in my own behalf, but that Sir Charles Grandison (looking at him) quite eclipses me. Devil fetch me, if I can tell how to think myself any-thing before him! I was always afraid of him. But when I heard he was gone abroad, in pursuit of a former love, I thought I had another chance for it.

· His

Yet I was half afraid of Lord Dmother would manage a Machiavel. He has a great estate; a title; he has good qualities for a nobleman. But when I found that you could so steadily refuse him, as well as me; There must be some man, thought I, who is lord of her heart. Fenwick is as sad a dog as I; it cannot be he. Orme, poor soul! she will not have such a milk-sop as that, neither——

Mr Orme, sir, interrupted I, and was going to praise him-But he said, I will be heard out now: This is my dying speech; I will not be interrupted.

Well then, sir, smiling, come to your last words as soon as you can.

I have told you, before now, Miss Byron, that I will not bear your smiles: But now, smiles or frowns, I care not. I have no hopes left; and I am resolved to abuse you, before I have done.

Abuse me!-I hope not, sir.

Hope not! What signify your hopes, who never gave me any? But hear me out. I shall say some things that will displease you; but more of another nature.-I went on guessing who could be the happy man-That second Orme, Fowler, cannot be he; thought I. Is it the newly-arrived Beauchamp? He is a pretty fellow enough I had all your footsteps watched, as I told you I would]. No, answered I myself, she refused Lord D, and a whole tribe of us, before Beauchamp came to England -Who the devil can he be?-But when I heard that the dangerous man, whom I thought gone abroad to his matrimonial destiny, was returned, unmarried; when I heard that he was actually coming northward; I began to be again afraid of him.

Last Thursday night I had intelligence, that he was seen at Dunstable in the morning, in his way towards us. Then did my heart fail me. I had my spies about Selby-House: I own it. What will not love and jealousy make a man do? I understood that your uncle and Mr Deane, and a tribe of servants for train-sake, were set out to meet him. How I raved! How I cursed! How I swore!-They will not surely, thought I, allow my rival, at his first visit, to take up

Witch! Mr Greville

Witch! Yes, witch! I called you ten thousand names, in my rage, all as bad as that. Here, Jack, Will, Tom, George, get ready instantly each a dozen firebrands! I will light up Selby-House for a bonfire, to welcome the arrival of the invader of my freehold! And prongs and pitchforks shall be got ready to push every soul of the family back into the flames, that not one of it may escape my vengeance

Horrid man! I will hear no more.

:

A dying man should be penitent.

To what purpose?—I can have no hope. What is to be expected for or from a despairing man? -But then I had intelligence brought me, that my rival was not admitted to take up his abode with you. This saved Selby-House. All my malice then was against the George, at Northampton. The keeper of it owes, said I to myself, a hundred thousand obligations to me; yet to afford a retirement to my deadliest foe!-But 'tis more manly, thought I, in person, to call this invader to account, if he pretends an interest at Selby-House; and to force him to relinquish his pretensions to the queen of it; as I had made more than one gallant fellow do before, by dint of bluster.

me.

I slept not all that night. In the morning I made my visit at the inn. I pretend to know, as well as any man, what belongs to civility and good manners; but I knew the character of the man I had to deal with: I knew he was cool, yet resolute. My rage would not let me be civil; and if it would, I knew I must be rude to provoke him. I was rude. I was peremptory. Never were there such cold, such phlegmatic contempts, passed upon man, as he passed upon I came to a point with him. I heard he would not fight: I was resolved he should. I followed him to his chariot. I got him to a private place; but I had the devil, and no man, to deal with. He cautioned me, by way of insult, as I took it, to keep a guard. I took his hint. I had better not: for he knew all the tricks of the weapon. He was in with me in a moment. I had no sword left me, and my life was at the mercy of his. He gave me up my own swordCautioned me to regard my safety; put up his; withdrew.-I found myself sensible of a damnable strain. I had no right arm. I slunk away like a thief. He mounted his triumphal car; and pursued his course to the lady of Selby-House. I went home, cursed, swore, fell down, and bit the earth.

My uncle looked impatient: Sir Charles seemed in suspense, but attentive. Mr Greville proceeded:

I got Fenwick to go with me, to attend him at night, by appointment. Cripple as I was, I

Wicked man!-You were dying, a thousand words ago I am tired of you

You have not, madam, heard half my dying words yet-But I would not terrify you-Are you terrified?

Indeed I am.

Sir Charles motioned as if he would approach us; but kept his place on my grandmamma's saying, Let us hear his humour out: Mr Greville was always particular.

Terrified, madam! What is your being terrified to the sleepless nights, to the tormenting days, you have given me? Cursing darkness, cursing light, and most myself?-0, madam! with shut teeth, what a torment of torments have you been to me!-Well, but now I will hasten to a conclusion, in mercy to you, who, however, never shewed me any

I never was cruel, Mr Greville

But you was; and most cruel, when most sweet-tempered. It was to that smiling obligingness that I owed my ruin! That gave me hope; that radiance of countenance; and that frozen heart!-O, you are a dear deceiver !— But I hasten to conclude my dying speechGive me your hand!-I will have it—I will not eat it, as once I had like to have done-And now, madam, hear my parting words-You will have the glory of giving to the best of men, the best of wives. Let it not be long before you do; for the sake of many, who will hope on til! then. As your lover, I must hate him; as your husband, I will love him. He will, he must, be kind, affectionate, grateful to you; and you will deserve all his tenderness. May you live (the ornaments of human nature as you are) to see your children's children; all promising to be as good, as worthy, as happy, as yourselves! And full of years, full of honour, in one hour may you be translated to that heaven, where only you can be more happy than you will be, if you are both as happy as I wish and expect you to be!

Tears dropt on my cheek, at this unexpected blessing.

He still held my hand-I will not, without your leave, madam-May I, before I part with it?-He looked at me as if for leave to kiss my hand, bowing his head upon it.

My heart was opened. God bless you, Mr

Greville! as you have blessed me.-Be a good man, and he will--I withdrew not my hand. He kneeled on one knee; eagerly kissed my hand, more than on ce. Tears were in his own eyes. He arose, hurried me to Sir Charles, and holding to him my then, through surprise, half withdrawn hand-Let me have the pride, the glory, Sir Charles Grandison, to quit this dear hard to yours. It is only to yours that I would quit it-Happy, happy, happy pair!—none but the brave deserves the fair

Sir Charles took my hand-Let this precious present be mine, said he, (kissing it,) with the declared assent of every one here; and presented me to my grandmamma and aunt. I was affrighted by the hurry the strange man had put me into

May I but live to see her yours, sir! said my grandmamma, in a kind of rapture!

The moment he had put my hand into Sir Charles's, he ran out of the room with the utmost precipitation. He was gone, quite gone, when he came to be inquired after; and everybody was uneasy for him, till we were told, by one of the servants, that he took from the window of the outward parlour, his hat and sword; and by another, that he met him, his servant after him, hurrying away, and even sobbing as he flew.-Was there ever so strange a man?

Don't you pity Mr Greville, my dear?

Sir Charles was generously uneasy for him. Mr Greville, said Lucy, (who had always charity for him,) has frequently surprised us with his particularities; but I hope, from the last part of his behaviour, that he is not the free-thinking man he sometimes affects to be thought. I flatter myself, that Sir Charles had a righter notion of him than we, in what he said of him yesterday.

Sir Charles waited on my grandmamma home; so we had him not to supper. We are all to dine with her to-morrow. Your brother, you may suppose, will be a principal guest.

Monday Morning, Oct. 16.

I HAVE a letter from my Emily, by which I find she is with you, though she has not dated it. You were very kind in shewing the dear girl the overflowings of my heart in her favour. She is all grateful love and goodness. I will soon write to her, to repeat my assurances, that my whole power shall always be exerted to do her pleasure; but you must tell her, as from yourself, that she must have patience. I cannot ask her guardian such a question as she puts, as to her living with me, till I am likely to succeed. Would the sweet girl have me make a request to him, that shall shew him I am supposing myself to be his, before I am so? We are

not come so far on our journey, by several stages. And yet, from what he intimated last night, as he waited on my grandmamma to Shirley-Manor, I find, that his expectations are forwarder than it will be possible for me to answer; and I must, without intending the least affectation, for common decorum sake, take the management of this point upon myself. For, my dear, we are every one of us here so much in love with him, that the moment he should declare his wishes, they would be as ready to urge me to oblige him, were he even to limit me but to two or three days, as if they were afraid he would not repeat his request.

I have a letter from Mr Beauchamp. He writes, that there are no hopes of Sir Harry's recovery. I am very sorry for it. Mr Beauchamp does me great honour to write to me to give me consolation. His is a charming letter

So full of filial piety!-Excellent young man! He breathes in it the true spirit of his friend.

Sir Charles and his Beauchamp, and Dr Bartlett, correspond, I presume, as usual. What would I give to see all Sir Charles writes that relates to us!

Mr Fenwick just now tells us, that Mr Greville is not well, and keeps his chamber. He has my cordial wishes for his health. His last behaviour to me appears, the more I think of it, more strange, from such a man. I expected not that he would conclude with such generous wishes.

Nancy, who does not love him, compares him to the wicked prophet of old, blessing where he was expected to curse ;* and says, it was such an overstrain of generosity from him, that it might well overset him.

Did you think that our meek Nancy could have said so severe a thing? But meekness offended (as she once was by him,) has an excellent memory, and can be bitter.

We are now preparing to go to Shirley-Manor. Our cousins Patty and Kitty Holles will be there at dinner. They have been for a few weeks past at their aunt's, near Daventry. They are impatient to see Sir Charles. Adieu, my dearest ladies! Continue to love your

HARRIET BYRON.

LETTER CCXXVI.

MISS BYRON.

[In continuation.]

Monday Night, Oct. 16. We have been very happy this day at my grandmamma's. Your brother makes himself more and more beloved by all my friends, who

yet declare, that they thought they could not have loved him better than they did before. My cousins Holles say, they could sooner lay open their hearts to him, than to any man they ever saw; yet their freedom would never make them lose sight of their respect.

He told me that he had breakfasted with Mr Greville. How does he conciliate the mind of every one to him! He said kind and compassionate things of Mr Greville, and so unaffectedly!--I was delighted with him. For, regardful as he would be, and is, of his own honour, no low, narrow jealousy, I dare say, will ever have entrance into his heart. Charity thinketh no evil! Of what a charming text is that a part!*-What is there equal to it, in any of the writings of the philosophers?

My dear Miss Byron, said he to me, Mr Greville loves you more than you can possibly imagine. Despairing of success with you, he has assumed airs of bravery; but your name is written in large letters in his heart. He gave me, continued he, the importance of asking my leave to love you still-What ought I to have answered?

What did you answer, sir?

That so far as I might presume to give it, I gave it.

Had I the honour, added I, of calling Miss Byron mine, I would not barely allow your love of her, I would demand it.-Have I not assured you, Mr Greville, that I look upon you as my friend?

You will quite subdue Mr Greville, sir, said I. You will, by the generosity of your treatment of him, do more than anybody else ever could-You will make him a good man.

Mr Greville, madam, deserves pity, on more accounts than one. A wife, such a one as his good angel led him to wish for, would have settled his principles. He wants steadiness; but he is not, I hope, a bad man. I was not concerned for his cavalier treatment of you yesterday, but on your own account, lest his roughness should give you pain. But his concluding wishes, and his preference of a rival to himself, together with the manner of his departure, unable as he was to withstand his own emotions and the effect it had upon his spirits, so as to confine him to his chamber, had something great in it-And I shall value him for it as long as he will permit me.

Sir Charles and my grandmamma had a good deal of talk together. Dearly does she love to single him out. What a pretty picture would they make, could they be both drawn so as not to cause a profane jester to fall into mistakes; as if it were an old lady making love to a handsome young man!

Let me sketch it out.-See, then, the dear

lady, with a countenance full of benignity, years written by venerableness, rather than by wrinkles, in her face; dignity and familiarity in her manner; one hand on his, talking to him: his fine countenance shining with modesty and reverence, looking down, delighted, as admiring her wisdom, and not a little regardful of her halfpointing finger [Let that be, for fear of mistakes] to a creature young; enough to be her grand-daughter; who, to avoid shewing too much sensibility, shall seem to be talking to two other young ladies [Nancy and Lucy, suppose; but, in order to distinguish the young creature, let her, with a blushing cheek, cast a sly eye on the grandmamma and young gentleman, while the other two shall not be afraid to look more free and unconcerned.

See, my dear, how fanciful I am; but I had a mind to tell you, in a new manner, how my grandmamma and Sir Charles seem to admire each other.

Mr Deane and he had also some talk together; my uncle joined them: and I blushed in earnest at the subject I only guessed at, from the following words of Mr Deane, at Sir Charles rising to come from them to my aunt and me, who both of us sat in the bow-window. My dear Sir Charles Grandison, said Mr Deane, you love to give pleasure: I never was so happy in my life, as I am in view of this long-wished-for event. You must oblige me: I insist upon it.

My aunt took it as I did.-A generous contention said she. O my dear! we shall all be too happy. God grant that nothing may fall out to disconcert us! If there should, how many broken hearts

The first broken one, madam, interrupted I, would be the happiest; I, in that case, should have the advantage of everybody.

Dear love! you are too serious [Tears were in my eyes: Sir Charles's unquestionable honour is our security !-If Clementina be stedfast; if life and health be spared you and him -If

Dear, dear madam, no more if's! Let there be but one if, and that on Lady Clementina's resumption. In that case, I will submit; and God only (as indeed he always ought) shall be my reliance for the rest of my life.

Lucy, Nancy, and my two cousins Holles, came and spread, two and two, the other seats of the bow-window (there are but three) with their vast hoops; undoubtedly, because they saw Sir Charles coming to us. It is difficult, whispered I to my aunt, (petulantly enough,) to get him one moment to one's self. My cousin James (silly youth! thought I) stopped him in his way to me; but Sir Charles would not long be stopped: he led the interrupter towards us; and a scat not being at hand, while the young