her cheerful and obliging temper. Whether in that case she would obtain it is a different question.

When I hint that she is pleased with herself, I would have it understood that as small a portion of vanity enters into this self-satisfaction as can be supposed to belong to a very beautiful woman, who cannot help perceiving that she is an object of admiration to many men, and of envy to many women.

I suspect that Miss Clifford possesses more pride than vanity; but it is that species of pride which becomes both men and women; and is most necessary in the latter, because the want of it, like a deficiency of good sense, exposes women to more danger than men; for virtue is a struggle against what degrades, as well as against malevolent passions.

It is evident, however, from the whole of this young lady's deportment, that the real sources of her obliging disposition and virtuous conduct are benevolence and modesty.

I have seen it somewhere observed, that women are inferior to men in general, but superior in particular. Miss Clifford is one of the particular exceptions, if the general rule is just.

With all the gentle and amiable graces of her own sex, she possesses, in an uncommon degree, that steadiness of mind which ours affect to monopolize.

I was present with her in the playhouse, when, on a false alarm of fire, many ladies screamed, and some fainted.

Miss Clifford did neither: she remained in her box till the confusion was over, without stirring, except to reach her salt-bottle to a woman who seemed ready to swoon in the pit.-As I was passing through a lane the next day, I saw her footman standing at the door of a tradesman's house, who, she understood, had been dangerously bruised in endeavouring to escape from the gallery.

The servant told me that his mistress was then with the man's wife and children. Judging, from what I had

previously remarked in her character, that she would be displeased with my intrusion, I did not enter the house; but I afterwards learnt, from the poor man himself, that she had afforded him very seasonable and liberal relief.

Naturally cheerful and gay, Miss Clifford never loses that dignity of manner which prevents men of sense from all improper freedoms, and covers with confusion the fools who risk them.

I am glad that she never attempts painting. How despicable are the productions of occasional pretenders to that charming art, when compared with the works of the artists by profession. The frames of the former are, in general, all that is worth looking at.

To excel in instrumental music is also the work of many years. I rejoice in the conviction, therefore, that Miss Clifford has spent her time to better purpose. She attempts nothing more than simple airs on the harp or piano-forte, which she accompanies with her own delight. ful voice.

To enumerate her other accomplishments is unnecessary; for I may say with truth, that she cannot look, or move, or speak, without conveying an impression to her advantage.

By this time, I am persuaded, you think me a little enthusiastic you will be still more of that opinion when I acknowledge that I have attempted poetry in this lady's praise; but I find, that, though every poet is an enthusiast, every enthusiast is not a poet. Instead of any of my own effusions, therefore, I shall, with a small variation, transcribe two stanzas from The Baviad,' in which my idea of Miss Clifford is expressed in the genuine language of of poetry.

For her has liberal Nature join'd
Her riches to the stores of art,

And added to the firmest mind

A soft and sympathizing heart;

A gentle and persuasive look;

A voice that might with music vie ;

An air, that every gazer took;

A matchless eloquence of eye.

With regard to what you seem most anxious about, there is nothing to apprehend. To hope for success in a scheme to seduce a woman of this stamp, a man must be the most presumptuous of all coxcombs; and, were it pos sible for him to foresee that, by infinite art, and all the means of seduction, he would succeed, still to convey endless remorse into the breast of another, on purpose to obtain a transient gratification, would mark him for the greatest of all villains.

What there is reason more to fear is, that my suit, on the most honourable terms, will be unsuccessful. I acknowledge, my dear brother, that it is already begun ; not, indeed, by any direct proposal, but by the whole of my conduct. I am convinced that Miss Clifford already knows that all my old prejudices against marriage are annihilated, and that the supreme wish of my soul is to be legally united to her for life. Should that wish be accomplished, I shall think I have obtained more certain happiness than wealth, honours, or even fame, can bestow; and nothing would afford me more satisfaction than the assurance of your approbation of my present pursuit. I remain your affectionate brother,

J. MORDAUNT.

LETTER CX.

LADY DIANA FRANKLIN to MISS HORATIA CLIFFORD.

MY DEAR HORATIA,

London]

I CANNOT express the satisfaction I had in perusing your last letter: all my apprehensions are vanished. I ask your pardon for ever having harboured any. I am happy at your not having left Ashwood. I should have had great uneasiness in the reflection of having brought you away, unnecessarily, at a time when you were rendering such an essential service to Miss Proctor. How infinitely is she obliged to you! I cannot suspect that any light behaviour on her part encouraged your brother to such

an attempt. In rendering it fruitless, you have performed as important a service to him as to her; for what service can be more important than preventing a man from committing an ill action? I hope the time is at no great distance when he will be sensible of this. How fortunate for Miss Proctor that she had a discerning and virtuous friend near her! I expect soon to hear that she is with her father. You may enjoy the additional satisfaction of knowing that you have prevented the remainder of that worthy man's life from being overwhelmed with anguish.

I can no more throw out the pleasure of the marchioness's society as a lure for your speedy return-her husband has obtained an honourable and advantageous establishment at Petersburg. A near relation of his arrived the other day, for the express purpose of conducting her to that capital; and, a ship being ready to sail thither, she would not allow the opportunity to slip. I have just parted with her-not without tears on both sides. She is, indeed, a charming woman. She expressed the utmost regret at leaving England without seeing you. • It required,' said she, all the love I feel for my husband, and all the obedience I owe him, to make me agree to it.' She had so many things to arrange, that she could not write to you :-she will do it from Plymouth.

Your good friend, Lady Deanport, is outrageous. My lord has carried Miss Almond abroad ;-perhaps I should have said the reverse; for many people think that it is she who has carried him. She is thought to have obtained a great ascendancy over him, and to have influenced him to this step, to avoid the continual reproaches of his mother. Her ladyship's chief occupation at present is, driving about among those who call themselves her friends, to complain of her son, and abuse his companion. What marks of sympathy they show, while she is with them, I know not; but I understand they make a jest of her affliction when she is not.

I was always shocked with Rochefoucault's horrid maxim, that, in the adversity of our friends, there is something that does not displease us.'

Lady Deanport has reason to think it true. Thank heaven, my dear Horatia, that you and I know it to be false! Adieu! my lovely friend.

D. FRANKLIN.

After you have conducted Miss Proctor to her father's, I dare say you will think it right to return to London. Indeed I am impatient, my dear, to see you. In the humour your brother will probably be, you had best be at a distance from him. Pray set out.

LETTER CXI.

The Hon. JOHN MORDAUNT to LORD MORDaunt.

Ashwood.

I THANK you very cordially, my dear brother, for your last kind letter ;* and will now inform you of what has happened since. I know it to be your opinion, that I am not apt to be overrun with timidity, when tête-à-tête with a woman; yet I have had several opportunities of being alone with Miss Clifford, all of which I have allowed to slip, without making the declaration I intended. As often as I attempted to express my sentiments, I found my mind agitated and confused, and my tongue benumbed.

The sight of beauty used so inspire me with the firmness of youth, not with the tremor of age; and Miss Clifford is such, that

A wither'd hermit, five score winters worn,

Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye.†

Distinguished beauty never overawed me from my purpose, though of a far more audacious nature.

It is clear that the impression this lady made on me sprung from a different source. Whence did this arise ? -From my conviction of her being a woman of sense,

The letter here alluded to is omitted. + Shakespeare.