be content with moderate settlements in your fa

vour.

But as I approve of your aunt's having forborne to write, as you would have had her, to Lady D. What shall we do in that affair? it will be asked.

What? Why thus: Lady D. has made it a point that you are disengaged in your affections; your aunt has signified to her that you are; you have given that lady a hint, which you say, overclouded her brow. She will be here on Saturday next. Then will she, no doubt, expect the openest dealing. And she ought to have it. Her own frankness demands it; and the character we have hitherto supported, and I hope always shall support, requires it. I would therefore let Lady D. know the whole of Sir Hargrave Pollexfen's attempt, [You, my dear, was so laudably frank as to hint it to her] and of the generous protection given you by Sir Charles Grandison. Truth never leaves room for self reproach. Let your aunt Selby then own, that you had written to her; declining, with the most respectful gratitude, the honour intended you which she could no otherwise account for than by supposing, and indeed believing, that you would prefer Sir Charles Grandison, from motives of gratitude, to any other man; but that you knew nothing of his engagements; nor had reason to look upon any part of his behaviour to you, but as the effect of his general politeness; nor that his sisters meant more by calling you sister than their brother's sister as well as theirs.

All this shall be mentioned to Lady D. in strict confidence. Then will Lady D. know the whole truth. She will be enabled, as she ought, to judge for herself. You will not appear in her eye as guilty of affectation. We shall all act in charac

ter. If Lady L. and Miss Grandison did (as you suppose) acquaint Lady D. that you were not addressed by their brother, they will be found to have said the truth; and you know, my dear, that we should be as ready to do justice to others veracity as to our own. She will see, that your regard for Sir Charles (if a regard you have, that may be an obstacle to her views) is owing to a laudable gratitude for his protection given to a young woman, whose heart was before absolutely disengaged.

And what will be the consequence?-Why, either that her ladyship will think no more of the matter, and then you will be just where you were; or, that she will interest herself in finding out. Sir Charles's engagements: And as you have communicated to Lady L. and Miss Grandison the letters that have passed between Lady D. and your aunt, together with the contents of yours, so far as relates to the proposal; and as Lady D. is acquainted with those two ladies; she will probably inform herself of their sentiments in relation to the one affair and the other; and the matter on every side, by this means, will sooner come to a decision than probably it can any other way.

I don't know whether I express myself clearly. I am not what I was: but blessed be God that I am what I am! I did not think, that, in so little a time, I could have written so much as I have. But my dear Harriet is my subject; and her hap piness is, and has ever been, my only care, since I lost the husband of my youth, the dear man who divided with me that, and all my cares; who had a love for you equal to my own; and who, I think, would have given just such advice. What would Mr. Shirley have thought? How would he, in the

like case, have acted? are the questions I always ask myself, before I give my opinion in any material cases, especially in those which relate to you.

And here let me commend a sentiment of yours, that is worthy of your dear grandfather's pupil : 'I should despise myself,' say you, were I capable of keeping one man in suspense while I was ba lancing in favour of another.'

Good young creature, hold fast your principles, whatever befals you. Look upon this world as you have been taught to look upon it. I have lived to a great age: yet, to look backward to the time of my youth, when I was not a stranger to the hopes and fears that now agitate you, what a short space does it seem to be! Nothing withholds my wishes to be released but my desire of seeing the darling of my heart, my sweet orphan girl, happy in a worthy man's protection. O that it could be in-But shall we, my dear, prescribe to Providence? How know we what that has designed for Sir Charles Grandison? His welfare is the concern of hundreds, perhaps. He, compared to us, is as the public to the private. I hope we are good people: comparatively, I am sure, we are good. That, however, is not the way by which we shall be judged hereafter. But yet, to him, we are but as that private.

Don't think, however, my best love, that I have lived too long to be sensible of what most affects you. Of your pleasures, your pains, I can and do partake. Your late harassings, so tender, so lovely a blossom, cost me many a pang; and still my eyes bear witness to my sensibility, as the cruel scenes are at times read to me again, or as I recal them to memory. But all I mean is, to arm you against feeling too sensibly, when it is known, the event which is now hidden in the bosom of Pro

vidence, should it, as is but too likely, prove unfavourable.

You have a great deal of writing upon your hands. We cannot dispense with any of that. But if you write to your aunt Selby, (as the time till next Saturday is short) that will be writing to us both.

God preserve, direct, and bless, my sweet ofphan child! This is the hourly prayer of your ever affectionate grandmother,

HENRIETTA SHIRLEY,

LETTER X.

MISS HARRIET BYRON TO MRS. SELBY.

Colnebrook, Tuesday, March 1. I HAVE the favour of yours, and of my dear grandThe contents are so mamma's, just brought me. affecting, that, though in full assembly, as I may say, in this delightful family, I begged to be permitted to withdraw to read them. Miss Grandison saw my confusion, my puzzle, what shall I call it? To be charged so home, my dear aunt!-Such apparent struggles!-And were they, madam, so very apparent?-A young, a new passion!—And so visibly increasing!--Pray, madam, if it be so, it is not at its height-And is it not, when but in its progress, conquerable? — But have I been guilty of affecta tion? of reserves?-If I have, my uncle has been very merciful to the awkward girl.

And you think it impossible, madam, but he has seen women whom he could love before he saw me? Very likely! But was it kind to turn the word gratitude upon me in such a manner?

I do see what an amiable openness of heart there

is in Lady D. I admire her for it, and for her other matronly qualities. What can you do, madam? What can I do? That is the question, called upon as I am, by my grandmamma as well as by you, to speak still plainer, plain as in your opinion I had spoken, and indeed in my own, now I read the free sentence, drawn out and separated from the rest of the letter. My grandmamma forgives, and even praises me, for this sentence. She encourages me to speak still plainer. It is no disgrace, she says, for a woman of virtue to be in love with a worthy man. Love is a natural passion, she tells me yet cautions me against suffering it to triumph over my reason; in short, not to love till there shall be a certainty of return. And so I can love as I will, when I will, nay, whom I will; for if he won't have me, I am desired not to resolve against marrying some other; Lord D. for example, if he will be so good as to have me.

Well, but upon a full examination of my heart, how do I find it, now I am called upon by my two most venerable friends, to undraw the curtain, and to put off the disguises through which every child in love-matters finds me out? shall I speak my whole heart? — To such sympathizing friends surely I ought. Well then, I own to you, my honoured grandmamma and aunt, that I cannot think of encouraging any other address. Yet have I no hope. I look upon myself as presumptuous; upon him as too excellent, and too considerable: for he has a great estate, and still greater expectations; and as to personal and intellectual merit, what woman can deserve him!-Even in the article of fortune only, you think that, in prudence, a man so munificent should look higher.

Be pleased, therefore, madam, in conformity to my grandmamma's advice, to tell Lady D. from