I think she did, my dear, said Sir Charles: nor would I have my Emily distinguished by any name, but that of a discreet, an ingenious, and an amiable young woman. The titles of wit, and poetess, have been disgraced too often by Sapphos and Corinnas, ancient and modern. Was not this in your head, sister? But do not be disturbed, my Emily: [the poor girl's eyes glistened :] I mean no check of liveliness and modest ingenuity. The easy productions of a fine fancy, not made the business of life, or its boast, confer no denomination that is disgraceful, but very much the contrary.

I am very glad, for all that, said Miss Jervois, that my little translation is in plain prose: had it not, I should have been very much afraid to have it seen.

Even in that case, you need not to have been afraid, my dear Miss Jervois, said the good Dr. Bartlett: Sir Charles is an admirer of good poetry: and Miss Grandison would bave recollected the Philomelas, the Orindas, and other names among her own sex, whose fine genius does it honour.

Your diffidence and sweet humility, my dear Emily, said Lord L, would, in you, make the most envied accomplishments amiable.

I am sure, said the lovely girl, hanging down her head, tears ready to start, I have reason to be affected with the subject. The indulgent mother is described with so much sweet tenderness!-O what pleasures do mothers lose, who want tenderness!

We all, either by eyes or voice, called for the sonnet, and her translation. Dr. Bartlett shewed them to us; and I send copies of both.

SONNET OF VINCENZIO DA FILICAJA.

Qual madre i figli con pietoso affetto

Mira, e d'amor si strugge a lor davante;

E un bacia in fronte, ed un si stringe al petto,
Uno tien sù i ginnochi, un sulle piante,

E mentre agli atti, a i gemiti, all' aspetto
Lor voglie intende sì diverse, e tante,

A questi un guardo, a quei dispensa un detto,
E se ride, o s'adira, è sempre amante :
Tal per noi Provvidenza alta infinita
Veglia, e questi conforta, e quei provvede,
E tutti ascolta, e porge a tutti aita.

E se niega talor grazia, o mercede,

O niega sol, perchè a pregar ne invita;

O negar finge, e nel negar concede,

See a fond mother encircled by her children: with pious tenderness she looks around, and her soul even 'melts with maternal love. One she kisses on the fore

head; and clasps another to her bosom. One she sets 6 upon her knee; and finds a seat upon her foot for ano⚫ther. And while, by their actions, their lisping words, and asking eyes, she understands their various numberless little wishes, to these she dispenses a look; a word to those; and whether she smiles or frowns, 'tis all in • tender love.

Such to us, though infinitely high and awful, is PROVIDENCE: so it watches over us; comforting these; providing for those; listening to all; assisting every one: and if sometimes it denies the favour we implore, it de⚫nies but to invite our more earnest prayers; or, seeming to deny a blessing, grants one in that refusal.'

When the translation was read aloud, the tears that before were starting, trickled down the sweet girl's cheeks. But the commendations every one joined in, aud especially the praises given her by her guardian, drove away every cloud from her face.

LETTER XXXIII.

SIR CHARLES GRANDISON, TO MISS GRANDISON.

MY DEAR CHARLOTTE,

Friday, March 17. I HAVE already seen Captain Anderson. Richard Saunders, whom I sent with your letter, as soon as I came to town, found him at his lodgings near Whitehall. He expressed himself, on reading it before the servant, with indiscreet warmth. I would not make minute inquiries after his words, because I intended an amicable meeting with him.

We met at four yesterday afternoon, at the Cocoa-tree in Pall Mall: Lieut. Col. Mackenzie, and Major Dillon, two of his friends, with whom I had no acquaintance, were with him. The Captain and I withdrew to a private room. The two gentlemen entered it with us.

You will on this occasion, I know, expect me to be particular: you must allow, that I had no good cause to manage; since those points that had most weight, (and which were the ground of your objections to him when you saw him in a near light,) could not be pleaded without affronting him; and, if they had, would hardly have met with his

allowance; and could therefore have no force in the argument.

On the two gentlemen entering the room with us, without apology or objection, I asked the captain, if they were acquainted with the affair we met upon? He said, they were his dear and inseparable friends, and knew every secret of his heart. Perhaps in this case, Captain Anderson, returned I, it were as well they did not.

We are men of honour, Sir Charles Grandison, said the major, briskly.

I don't doubt it, sir. But where the delicacy of a lady is concerned, the hearts of the principals should be the whole world to each other. But what is done, is done. I am ready to enter upon the affair before these gentlemen, if you choose it, captain.

You will find us to be gentlemen, Sir Charles, said the colonel.

The captain then began, with warmth, his own story. Indeed he told it very well. I was pleased, for my sister's sake, (pardon me, Charlotte,) that he did. He is not contemptible, either in person or understanding. He may be said, perhaps, to be an illiterate, but he is not an ignorant man; though not the person whom the friends of Charlotte Grandison would think worthy of the first place in her heart.

After he had told his story, (which I need not repeat to you,) he insisted upon your promise: and his two friends declared in his favour, with airs, each man, a little too peremptory. I told them so; and that they must do me the justice to consider me as a man of some spirit, as well as themselves. I came hither with a friendly intention, gentlemen, said I. I do not love to follow the lead of hasty

spirits: but if you expect to carry any point with me, it must not be either by raised voices, or heightened complexions.

Their features were all at once changed: and they said, they meant not to be warm.

I told the captain, that I would not enter into a minute defence of the lady, though my sister. I owned that there had appeared a precipitation in her conduct. Her treatment at home, as she apprehended, was not answerable to her merits. She was young, and knew nothing of the world. Young ladies were often struck by appearances. You, Captain Anderson, said I, have advantages in person and manner, that might obtain for you a young lady's attention and as she believed herself circumstanced in her family, I wonder not that she lent an ear to the address of a gallant men; whose command in that neighbourhood, and, I doubt not, whose behaviour in that command, added to his consequence. But I take it for granted, sir, that you met with difficulties from her, when she came to reflect upon the disreputation of a young woman's carrying on clandestinely a correspondence with a man, of whose address, her father, then living, was not likely to approve. There was none of that violent passion on either side, that precludes reason, discretion, duty. It is no wonder then, that a woman of Charlotte Grandison's known good sense, should reflect, should consider: and perhaps the less, that you should therefore seek to engage her by promise. But what was the promise? It was not the promise that, it seems, you sought to engage her to make: to be absolutely yours, and no other man's: but it was, that she would not marry any other man without your consent, while you remained single. An unreasonable promise, however, I