"If e'er content deign'd visit mortal clime,
That is her place of dearest residence."

But, alas! civil war is an omnipresent fiend, whose baleful influence penetrates every seclusion, the inhabitants of which have dependence on, or connection with the country it ravages. Yet be comforted, my dear and honoured friends, and repose upon the hope that Lord Cornwallis and his armies will crush this horrid, this murderous rebellion!-that when valour, generalship, and numbers have unstrung its sinews, he will be commissioned to extend that concession to the just claims of the people, which may do away all invidious distinction between catholic and protestant, dissenter and churchman; the tyrannic exertion of which has been the cause of all the assassinations, the woes, and dangers to both islands, that have been the bitter fruits of bad policy and injustice on one hand, and of wicked and unbridled revenge on the other.

Amiable Mrs St George-Where is she?— Not in Ireland, I hope.

Since I closed the last sentence, I have read to-day's paper. Thank God it enables me to congratulate on the better aspect of the deplored contest. Yes, the smiles of hope are

at this instant relumining the countenance of my friends. O may their soft cheering light be per

manent!

I remain, &c,

LETTER XIX.

REV. T. S. WHALLEY.

Lichfield, July 3, 1798.

You complained, when you wrote to me, of recent indisposition. The ardours of last month must have been trying to the degree of weakness which accompanies convalescence; but the pure gales of your mountain would temper the flames of its days, and heavy sultriness of its nights, and, I trust, you have ere this time regained your strength. I congratulate you upon the state of an health, which, well I know, is dearer to you than your own. Very long may that, and all your other comforts, be continued, and mitigate, more and more yet every day, one bosom-woe, for which I often sigh!-but I will not dwell on the cruel theme.

Would to Heaven that you could put in mental force Sciolto's words, when he says:

"But, O! of that, as of a gem long lost,
Think we no more!"

With what kind cordiality do you press me to reside in your little Eden this summer! Alas! my rheumatic maladies impel me on another and far less pleasant course. I must go to Buxton, and must not, in prudence, take two long journies, of destination so wide of each other. Mr Saville is at his native Ely, after a fortnight's stay in London. He commissions me with his grateful thanks for including him in an invitation, which it would be most delightful to us both to accept; but he must seek the coast, if business at home will allow him to make another excursion ere winter returns.

I met at dinner, at Catton, last week, your friend the married Louisa G, who has changed her state, without having changed her name. I never saw her look so healthy, or so handsome. She is grown embonpoint, and has animated her once statue-like husband with the vital light of love and happiness. All who know her, think she will make an excellent wife, using.

wisely an uncontested dominion, and ❝ doing her spiriting gently."

I mentioned to you, in my last, your acquaintance Miss N.'s marriage, that she is now Mrs F., the wife of a Kentish gentleman. They have been here six weeks with their eldest daughter, just seventeen: a brunette with fine eyes, good height and shape, and handsome when flushed into bloom by exercise, but with complexion and hair too dark to spare that glow without losing her claim to beauty. Mr F., though perhaps some years younger than his lady, is yet enough advanced in life to save her choice from indiscretion on that point, and time has yet indulgently withheld his iron-traces from her form and face. At no time of her life was she so personally agreeable. She has good sense, and, when she casts aside the too often worn veil of haughty reserve, is far from being uninteresting-therefore is there no reason to doubt, that she was loved for herself, rather than for her fortune, by a very agreeable man, of considerable and various information, and universally allowed merit. If his daughters inherit their father's principles and temper, the means of happiness are amply in her power; if she can but resolve not to aim at a single restraint, which is not clearly necessary to their future welfare. Strict mothers, if essential

ly good, may possibly be loved by their own children, but must be hated by those of another wo

man.

This day Mrs F. takes everlasting leave of this her native city as an home. No inhabitant in her class has been so stationary. Surely, surely she must feel some portion of that regret, the appearance of which she did not wear, on such a wide, such an interminable separation!

As to me!-how little do we know ourselves! I was always conscious that she did not love me, though, while her father lived, his partiality for me threw us often together, through a long course of years; but we were not kindred spirits; yet was she, when in good humour, more agreeable to me than I was to her. Of late years, however, the repeated proofs she has given of utter want of regard, by a course of trivial but studied slights, wholly unprovoked, made me fancy she had extinguished the affection in my heart, that grew on frequent association, in sportive infancy and hoping youth; and in our later period of calm descent from the meridian of life, from mutual consciousness of those eternally vanished beings, which, separately, and sometimes jointly, interested us;-but, on taking leave of her yesterday, I found that pained impressions of unprovoked unkindness had not dissolved the force of