I have not so generous a way of thinking for my daugh·ters—I will save your lordship the trouble of speaking out, because it is more agreeable from myself than it would be for any other man to do it. But to this I answer, that the late Earl of L-, your lordship's father, had one son and three daughters-I have one son, and two. He was an earl-I am but a simple baronet. If 5000l. a-piece is enough for an earl's daughters, half the sum ought to do for a baronet's.

Your fortune, Sir Thomas-and in England, where

estates

And where living, my lord, will be five times more expensive to you than it need to be, if you can content yourself to live where your estate lies-As for me, I have lived nobly-But had I been as rich as my father left me, 5000l. should have done with a daughter, I assure you. You, my lord, have your notions: I have mine. Money and a girl you expect from me: I ask nothing of you. As matters stand, if my girls will keep, (and I hope they will,) I intend to make as good a bargain for them, and with them, as I can. Not near 5000l. a-piece must they expect from me. I will not rob my son more than I have done.See, here is a letter from him. It is an answer to one I had written, on the refusal of a wretch to lend me, upon my Irish estate, a sum that I wanted to answer a debt of honour, which I had contracted at Newmarket, unless my son (though it is an estate in fee) would join in the security. Does not such a son as this deserve every thing?

I obtained a sight of this letter; and here is a copy:

I

HONOURED SIR,

COULD almost say I am sorry that so superior a spirit as yours should vouchsafe to comply with Mr. O's dise agreeable and unnecessary demand. But, at least, let me ask, Why, sir, did you condescend to write to me on the occasion, as if for my consent? Why did you not send me the deeds, ready to sign? Let me beg of you, ever dear and ever honoured sir, that you will not suffer any difficul ties, that I can join to remove, to oppress your heart with doubts for one moment. Are you not my father?—And did you not give me a mother, whose memory is my glory? That I am, under God, is owing to you. That I am what I am, to your indulgence. Leave me not any thing! You have given me an education, and I derive from you a spirit, that, by God's blessing on my duty to you, will enable me to make my own fortune: and, in that case, the foundation of it will be yours; and you will be entitled, for that foundation, to my warmest gratitude. Permit me, sir, to add, that, be my income ever so small, I am resolved to live within it. And let me beseech you to remit me but one half of your present bounty. My reputation is established; and I will engage not to discredit my father. All I have ever aimed at, is, to be in condition rather to lay, than to receive, an obligation. That your goodness has always enabled me to do: and I am rich, through your munificence; richer, in your favour.

Have you any thoughts, sir, of commanding me to attend you at Paris, or at the Hague; according to the hopes you gave me in your last?—I will not, if you do me this honour, press for a return with you to my native country: but I long to throw myself at your feet; and, wherever the opportunity of that happiness shall be given me, to assure you personally of the inviolable duty of your CHARLES GRANDISON.

Must not such a letter as this, Lucy, have stung to the heart a man of Sir Thomas Grandison's pride? If not, what was his pride?--Sir Thomas had as good an education as his son; yet could not live within the compass of an income of upwards of 7000l. a year. His son called himself rich with 800l. or 1000l. a year; and though abroad, in foreign countries, desired but half that allowance, that he might contribute, by the other half, to lessen the difficulties in which his father had involved himself by his extravagance.

His father, Lady L says, was affected with it. He wept: he blessed his son; and resolved, for his sake, to be more cautious in his wagerings than he had hitherto been. Policy, therefore, would have justified the young gentle, man's cheerful compliance, had he not been guided by superior motives. Sir Charles would not, I think one may be sure, have sacrificed to the unreasonable desires even of a father, the fortune to which he had an unquestionable right an excess of generosity, amiable indeed, but pitiable, as contrary to the justice that every man owes to himself, and to those who may hereafter depend upon him; and what I have often heard my grandmamma lament in the instance of the worthy Mr. M whose family has suffered from an acquiescence with a father's extravagance, for which that father was only the more wretched.

Sir Charles's is the true, the reasonable virtue, that keeps clear of every extreme.-O my dear! the Christian religion is a blessed religion! how does honest policy, as well as true greatness of mind, recommend that noble doctrine of returning good for evil!

LETTER XV.

MISS BYRON.-IN CONTINUATION.

My lord repeated his request, that he might have Sir Thomas's consent to his nuptials, upon his own terms; and promised never to expect a single shilling in dowry, but to leave the whole of that to time, and to his own convenience and pleasure.

You

We know, said Sir Thomas, what all this means. talk, my lord, like a young man. You ought not to think (you once said it yourself) of involving a young woman you love, as well as yourself, in difficulties. I know the world, and what is best to be done, if you will think no more of my daughter. I hope she has discretion. First love is generally first folly. It is seldom fit to be encou raged. Your quality, my lord, to say nothing of your merit, will procure you a rich wife from the city. And the city now is as genteel, as polite, as the court was formerly. The wives and daughters of citizens, poor fellows! are apes of us gentry; and succeed pretty well, as to outward appearance, in the mimicry. You will, by this means, shake off all your father's sins. I speak in the language of young fellows, who expect a father to live solely for them, and not for himself. Some sober young men of quality and fortune, affrighted at the gayety and extravagance of the modern women, will find out my girls; who, I hope, will have patience. If they have not, let them pursue their inclinations: let them take their fill of love, as Solomon says; and if they run their heads into a hedge, let them stick there by the horns, with all my heart!

See, my dear, what a man a rakish father is !—O my good Lady Grandison, how might your choice have punished your children!

I pray to God, Sir Thomas, said my lord, bowing, but angry; I pray to God, to continue me in a different way of thinking from yours, if this be yours. Give me leave to say, you are too young a gentleman to be a father of grown up children. But I must love Miss Grandison; and still, if possible, poor young lady! more than ever, for what has passed in this conversation. And saying this, he withdrew.

Sir Thomas was very angry at this spirited speech. He sent for his daughter, and forbade her to receive my lord's addresses. He ordered her never to think of him: and directing Miss Charlotte to be called in, repeated his commands before her; and threatened to turn them both out of his house, if they presumed to encourage any address, but with his knowledge. And don't think, said he, of going on to engage your affections, as a sensual forwardness is called, and then hope to take advantage of my weakness, to countenance your own. I know the world: I know your sex. Your sister, I see, Charlotte, is a whining fool: see how she whimpers!-Be gone from my presence, Caroline! And remember, Charlotte, (for I suppose this impertinent lord's address to your sister will go near to set you agog,) that I expect, whether absent or present, to know of any application that may be made to you, before your liking has taken root in love, as it is called, and while my advice may have the weight that the permission or dissent of a father ought to have.

They both wept, courtesied, and withdrew.

At dinner Miss Caroline begged to be excused attending her gay and arbitrary father; being excessively grieved,