has a high regard for you. Women know women. Go hand-in-hand with her. I will save you the trouble of referring to me, in the progress of your application to my wife and Emily. My Harriet will acquaint me with what is necessary for me, as Emily's guardian, to know. I build on your hint of assiduities, in preference to an early declaration. You, my Beauchamp, need not be afraid of giving time to a young creature to look round her. Let me add, that Emily shall give signs of preferring you to all men, as I expect from you demonstrations of your preferring her to all women; or I shall make a difficulty, for both your sakes, of giving a guardian's consent: And remember also, that Emily has a mother; who, though she has not greatly merited consideration, is her mother. We must do our duty, you know, my Beauchamp, in the common relations of life, whether others do theirs or not. But the address of a man of your credit and consequence cannot give you any difficulty there, when that of Miss Jervois's tender years is got over.

He was pleased with what I said. I asked him, if he approved of her motion to go down with Mrs Selby and Lucy? Highly, he said; and as it came from herself, he thought it an instance of prudence in her, that few young creatures would have been able to shew.

Instance of prudence! my love! How so! When, wise as our Northamptonshire relations are, Emily would have wanted no benefit that her choice can give her, were she to remain with us, in the instructions and example of my Harriet. But, my dear life, does Emily hold her mind to attend Mrs Selby and Lucy into Northamptonshire? Let it be with her whole heart.

My cousin Grandison believes himself to be very happy. His wife, he says, thinks herself the happiest of women. I am glad of it. She has a greater opinion of his understanding than she has of her own: This seems to be necessary to the happiness of common minds in wedlock. He is gay, fluttering, debonnair; and she thinks those qualities appendages of family. He has presented her with a genealogical table of his ancestors, drawn up and blazoned by heraldry art. It is framed, glazed, and hung up in her drawing-room. She shews it to every one. Perhaps she thinks it necessary to apologize, by that means, to all her visitors, for bestowing her person and fortune on a ruined man. But what, in a nation, the glory and strength of which are trade and commerce, is gentility? What even 'nobility, where descendants depart from the virtue of the first ennobling ancestor ?

Lord and Lady G have invited Lady Clementina to dinner to-morrow. She has had the goodness to accept of the invitation. Lord and Lady L——, and my aunt Grandison, will attend her.

What, my dear, makes Charlotte so impatient (so petulant I had almost said) under a cir

cumstance which, if attended with a happy issue, will lay all us, her friends, under obligation to her! I asked once my Harriet, if Lord Gwere as happy in a wife as Charlotte is in a husband? You returned me not a direct answer. I was afraid of repeating my question, because I knew you would have cheerfully answered it, could you have done it to my wishes. I see in my lord's behaviour to her, respect and affection even to fondness; but not the polite familiarity that becomes a wedded love. Let her present circumstance be happily over, and she will find her brother's eye a more observant one, than hitherto she has found it. But be not, my dear, over-solicitous for the friend you so greatly value: True brotherly love shall ever hold the principal seat in my heart, when I sit in judgment upon a sister's conduct.

My fond heart throbs in expectation of soon presenting a sister to each of the two noblest women on earth. Allow for the perplexity of Clementina's mind; and for the impolitic urgency of her friends: and you will not, when you see her, scruple to hold out to a sister-excellence, not happily situated, the hand that blessed Your ever faithful

CH. GRANDISON.

LETTER CCLXXXVI.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON.

[In continuation.]

Saturday, Feb. 24. THE arrival of the Leghorn frigate is every day expected. The merchants have intelligence, that it put into Antibes. If the journey by land from thence to Paris, and so to Calais, could be made favourable to my dear friend Jeronymo, I have no doubt but our respected friends landed there, at this season of the year, so unpropitious to tender passengers.

The house in Grosvenor Square is now, thanks to good Lord G, quite ready for their reception. There will be room, I believe, as they propose to be here incognito, and with only necessary attendants, for the Marquis and his lady, for Mrs Beaumont (who will be both their comforter and interpreter,) for the two brothers, and Father Marescotti. Saunders has already procured handsome lodgings for the Count of Belvedere. I wish with you, my love, that the Count were not to accompany them. The poor lady must not know it, if it can be avoided. The two young lords, whom I invited when I was in Italy, must be more immediately our own guests, if my dearest life has no objection.

Assure yourself, my generous Harriet, that the lady shall not be either compelled, or too urgently

persuaded, if I have weight with the family when they arrive. They shall not know where she is, nor see her, but by her own consent, and as I see their disposition to receive her as I wish. Excellent creature! what a noble solicitude is yours for her tranquillity of mind!

I have not yet been able to break to her the daily expectation I have of seeing in England her parents and brothers: yet am uneasy, that she knows it not. I want courage, my Harriet, to acquaint her with it. I have more than once essayed to do it. Dear creature! she looks with so much innocence, and so much reliance upon me; and is, at times, so apprehensive !—I know not how to break it to her.

She depends upon my mediation. She urges me to begin a treaty of reconciliation with them. I defer writing, I tell her, till I have seen Mrs Beaumont. Little does she think they are upon their journey, and that I know not where to direct to them. She longs for Mrs Beaumont's arrival ; and hopes, she says, she will bring with her the poor Camilla, that she may have an opportunity to obtain her excuse for the harsh treatment she gave her. And yet, Camilla, said she, was a teazing woman.

Were you ever sensible, my Harriet, of the tender pain that an open heart (yours is an open and an enlarged one) feels; longing, yet, for its friend's sake, afraid to reveal unwelcome tidings, which, however, it imports the concerned to know? How loath to disturb the tranquillity which is built upon ignorance of the event! Yet that very tranquillity (contemplated upon) adding to the pain of the compassionating friend; who reflects, that when the unhappy news shall be revealed, time, and Christian philosophy, only, will ever restore it to the heart of the sufferer!

Lord and Lady L are endeavouring to divert their too thoughtful guest, by carrying her to see what they think will either entertain or amuse her. To-morrow (Lady L- contributing to the dear Lady's proper appearance there) they purpose to attend her to the drawing-room. But hitherto she seems not to have a very high opinion of the country. If her heart could be easy, everything would have a different appearance to her.

I HAVE this moment the favour of yours of yesterday. If your kind friends will stay no longer with you at the Hall, do you, my dearest love, as you propose, accompany them up. They are extremely obliging in proposing to give me here two or three days of their company, before they return to Northamptonshire.

My consent, my Harriet !-Why, if you have a choice of your own, do you ask it? I must approve of whatever you wish to do. Could I have been certain, I would have met my love. But you will have many dear friends with you.

Tell my Emily, that I have had a visit from her mother and Mr O'Hara; and was so much pleased with them, that I propose on Monday to return their visit at their own lodgings.

Now I know I am to be soon blessed with the presence of my Harriet, I have given way to all my wishes: One of them is, never to be separated from the joy of my heart. Such, I trust, will she ever be, to

Her grateful, ever faithful,

GRANDISON.

LETTER CCLXXXVII.

LADY GRANDISON TO MRS SHIRLEY.

London, Friday, March 2. AGAIN, my ever-honoured grandmamma, does your Harriet resume the pen. Lucy and my aunt, between them, have given you an account of everything that passed since my last.

We arrived last night. With what tenderness did the best of men, and of husbands, receive his Harriet, and her friends!

This afternoon, at tea, I am to be presented to Lady Clementina, at Lord L-'s. Don't you believe my heart throbs with expectation? Indeed it does. Sir Charles says, her emotions are as great on the occasion.

What honour does my dear Sir Charles do his Harriet! He consults her, as if he doubted his own judgment, and wanted to have it confirmed by hers. What happiness is hers, who marries a good man! Such a one will do obliging things for principle's sake: He will pity involuntary failings: He will do justice to good intentions, and give importance to all his fellowcreatures, because he knows they and he are equally creatures of the Almighty. What woman, who thinks, but will prefer a good man to all others, however distinguished by rank, fortune, or person? But my Sir Charles is a good man, and distinguished by all those advantages. What a creature should I be, blessed with a husband of a heart so faithful, and so well-principled, if I were not able to let my love and compassion flow to a Clementina, though once (and indeed for that very reason) the only beloved of his heart!-Why are not real calls made upon me, to convince such a man, that I have a mind emulative of his own, at least of Clementina's? The woman, who, from motives of religion, having the heart of a Sir Charles Grandison in her hand, loving him above all earthly creatures, and all her friends consenting, could refuse him her vows, must be, in that act, the greatest, the most magnanimous of women. But could the noble lady have thus acted, my dear grandmamma, had she not been stimulated by that glorious enthusiasm, of which her disturbed imagination had shewn some previous tokens ;

We have just now been welcomed to town by Sir Edward Beauchamp. Sir Charles, on presenting him to me, thus expressed himself: You remember, my dearest life, what I wrote to you of the last part of the conversation between Sir Edward and me, in relation to my Emily. Your prudence, my Harriet, and love of the good girl; your discretion and generosity, Sir Edward; will join you together as counsellors and advisers of your Grandison. My wife and my friend cannot err in this instance, because you will both consider what belongs to the characters of a guardian, and a ward so beloved by you both; and, if you doubt, have Dr Bartlett at hand.

My uncle, aunt, and Lucy, are determined to set out next Wednesday for Northamptonshire. Sir Edward desired to know of Sir Charles, if he had any objection to his attending them down? None at all, surely, was Sir Charles's answer.

Mr Deane accompanies them, in order to adjust some matters at Peterborough, preparative to the favour he does of settling with us, or near us, for the remainder of his days. May that remainder be long and happy!

Sir Charles asked Emily just now, if she held her mind, as to going down? Indeed she did, she said: her heart was in it; and she would go that instant to acquaint her mother with her intention, and to buy some things preparatory to her journey: She would take it for a great favour, she told Lucy, if she would go with her on both occasions.

Lucy has made to herself a great interest in Emily's heart. They are both sure they shall be happy in each other. My aunt loves her: So does my uncle. Who does not? I am sure you will, my dear grandmamma, and pity her too. Dear, pretty soul! She costs me now and then a tear. But had I not been in her way, it would have been worse. She could have no hope. I am sure she knows she could not. But what a sad gradation is there in that love, which, though begun in a hopelessness of succeeding, rises, by self-flattery, to possibility, then to a probability, to hope; and sinking again to hopelessness, ends in despair!-But how coolly I write on, for one who is by and by to see a Clementina!

I AM waiting Sir Charles's kind leisure to carry me to Lady L- 's. He has Mr Lowther with him just now; who, however, finding us engaged, will not stay.

Sir Charles approved my dress, as he passed by me to go to Mr Lowther in the study. He snatched my hand, and pressed it with his lips:

you want no ornaments: but I was sure you would not give yourself any but those that flowed from a compassionate and generous heart, when you were to visit a lady who at present is not in happy circumstances; yet is entitled by merit, as well as rank, to be in the happiest. My aunt and Lucy long for my return, to have an account of the lady, and what passes between How my heart-What is the matter with my heart?

us.

LETTER CCLXXXVIII.

LADY GRANDISON.

[In continuation.]

Saturday, March 3. LADY CLEMENTINA, my dearest grandmamma, must not, shall not, be compelled. If I admired, if I loved her before, now that I have seen her, that I have conversed with her, I love, I admire her, if possible, ten times more. She is really, in her person, a lovely woman; of middle stature; extremely genteel: an air of dig nity, even of grandeur, appears in her aspect, and in all she says and does: her complexion is fine without art: indeed she is a lovely woman! She has the finest black eye, hair, eye-brows of the same colour, I ever saw; yet has sometimes a wildish cast with her eye, sometimes a languor, that, when one knows her story, reminds one that her head has been disturbed. Why, taking advantage of her sex, is such a person to be controlled, and treated as if she were not to have a will; when she has an understanding, perhaps, superior to that of either of her wilful brothers?

When we alighted at Lady L-'s, I begged Sir Charles to conduct me into any apartment but that where she was. I sat down on the first seat. Lady L hastened to me-My dearest sister, you seem disordered!-Fie !—Lady Grandison, and want spirits?

Sir Charles (not observing my emotion) had left me; and went to attend Lady Clementina. She, it seems, was in some disorder. My Harriet (said he to her, as he told me afterwards) attends the commands of her sister-excellence.

Call me not excellence! Call me not her sister! Am I not a fugitive in her eye, and in everybody's eye?—I think, chevalier, I cannot see her. She will look down upon me. I think I am as much afraid to see her, as I was at first to see you. Is there severity in her virtue ?

She is all goodness, all sweetness, madam. Did I not tell you, that she is the Clementina of England?

Well, sir, you are very good. Don't let me be unpolite. I am but a guest in this hospitable

house-Else would I have attended her at the first door. Is she not Lady Grandison? Happy, happy woman !

Tears were in her eyes. She turned away, to hide them. Then stepping forward; I am now prepared to receive her: Pray, sir, introduce

me.

She is not without her emotions, madam-She is preparing herself to see you. Love, compassion for Lady Clementina, fills her bosom-I will present her to you.

Lady L went to her. Sir Charles came to me-My dearest love! why this concern? You will see a woman you cannot fear, but must love. She has been in the like agitations-Favour me with your hand.

No, sir-That would be to insult her.

My dearest life! forget not your own dignity; [I started; nor give me too much consequence with a lady, who, like yourself, is all soul. I glory in my wife: I cannot desert myself.

I was a little awed at the time; fearing he was displeased; but the moment I got home, and was alone with him, I acknowledged his goodness and greatness, both in one. He led me in. Lady L only (at Sir Charles's request, for both our sakes) was present. The noble lady approached me. I hastened to meet her, with trembling feet. Sir Charles, kissing a hand of each, joined them together. Sister-excellencies, I have often called you! Dearest of women, love each other, as I admire you both!

She tenderly saluted me: Receive, O receive to your love, to your friendship, a poor desolate! Till within these few days, a desolate indeed! a fugitive! a rebellious! an ingrate to the best of parents!

I embraced her-Mistaken parents, I have called them, madam-I have pitied them; but most I have pitied you-Honour me with your sisterly love. This best of men had before given me two sisters. Let us be four.

Be it so, my dear Lady L- said Sir Charles, bringing her to us: and clasping his arms about the three: You answer for the absent Charlotte and yourself; a fourfold cord that shall never be broken.

Sir Charles led us to one settee, again putting a hand of each together, and sitting down over against us; Lady L- on the other hand of him. We were both silent for a few moments, each struggling with her tears.

My Harriet, madam, said Sir Charles, as I have told you, knows your whole story. You two are of long acquaintance. Your minds are kindred minds. Your griefs are hers: your pleasure she will rejoice in as her own. My Harriet, you now see, you now know by person, the admirable Clementina, whose magnanimity you so much admired, whose character, you have so often said, is the first among women.

We both wept. But her tears seemed tears

of kindness and esteem. I put the hand which was not in hers, on her arm. I wanted courage; my reverence for her would not allow me to be so free, or it had again embraced the too conscious lady. Believe me, madam, (excuse my broken Italian,) I have ever revered you. I have said often, very often, that your happiness, happy as I am, is necessary to complete mine, as well as Sir Charles Grandison's.

This goodness to me, a fugitive, an alien to your country; not a lover of your religion! O Lady Grandison, you must be as much all I have heard of you, in your mind, as I see you are in your person. Receive my thanks for making happy the man I wished to be the happiest of men; for well does he deserve to be made so. We were brother and sister, madam, before he knew you. Let me be his sister still, and let me be yours.

Kindred minds, Sir Charles Grandison calls ours, madam. He does me honour. May I, on farther knowledge, appear to as much advantage in your eye, as you, from what I know of you, do in mine; and I shall be a very happy creature!

Then you will be happy. I was prepared to love you. I love you already, methinks, with a passion that wants not farther knowledge of your goodness to augment it. But can you, madam, look upon me with a true sisterly eye? Can you pity me for the step I have taken, so seemingly derogatory to my glory? Can you believe me unhappy, but not wicked, for taking it? O madam! my reason has been disturbed; do you know that?-You must attribute to that, some of my perverseness.

Heaven, dearest Lady Clementina, only knows how many tears your calamity has cost me! In the most arduous cases, I have preferred your happiness to my own. You shall know all of me, and of my heart. Not a secret of it, though yet uncommunicated to this dearest of men, will I conceal from you. I hope we shall be true sisters, and true friends, to the end of our lives.

My noble Harriet! said the generous man— Frankness of heart, my dear Clementina, is her characteristic. She means all she says; and will perform more than she promises. I need not tell you, my love, what our Clementina is: you know her to be the noblest of women: give her the promised proofs of your confidence in her; and, whatever they be, they must draw close the knot which never will be untied.

Already, thus encouraged, said the noble lady, let me apply to you, madam, to strengthen for me the interest I presume to have in the friendship of Sir Charles Grandison. Let me not, sir, let me not, I intreat you all three, be compelled to give my vows to any man in marriage. All of you promise me; and I shall with more delight look before me, than for a long, long time past, I thought would fall to my lot.

You, madam, must concede a little, perhaps :

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 y 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 England 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 L―

LADY GRANDISON.

[In continuation.]

Monday, March 5. 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