you are not to be the wife of so not from circumstances terminate Yes, my dear, forget your love. however strange it may sound, observation and a knowledge of the world has evinced to me the unsteadiness of youthful attachments, and the possibility of happiness in the married state abstracted from a first love. I am glad this unfortunate turn in your affairs is likely to terminate so well with regard to your brother. I wonder not at the want of delicacy he has shewn. What delicacy or tenderness can we expect from a man immersed in the pursuit of gold alone, and that merely for its own sake? On this painful subject I will say no more. I hope you will find another subject for your pen when you are in Wiltshire. My love awaits dear Harriet, and a request that she will favour us with her agreeable epistles. I feel more and more reluctance to writing, from the increased complaint in my head. I therefore lay down my pen, and will only add, that as my dear Maria has never yet disregarded my advice, I hope she will attend to the present, as dictated from the heart and best judg ment of her affectionate friend, JANE WEST. LETTER XXVI. B. Hall. I DEFERRED, dear madam, answer. ing your last letter immediately, because I wished to give you an ac count of our safe arrival at this place, where we have now been a week. I cannot say I think this visit will contribute much to the amendment of my spirits, as from the wayward temper of the mistress of the mansion, and the stupidity of the master, it is kept in a state of perpetual ill humour and dulness. To make you acquainted with Mrs. Wilson, I must give you a sketch of her life and character. The Her father was a Blackwell-hall factor of great repute, who, after amassing a vast fortune, retired at an advanced age to B. Hall, the present mansion, which he purchased, together with a large estate here. With his wife and two daughters he lived, and was much respect ed by the neighbouring gentry, as well as the poor; but nis wife, who was my mother's first cousin, was a woman of great pride, to which was added conceit, and its attendant ignorance. They gave their daughters good educations, that is, they spared no expence so to do; but very slender capacities, and too much indulgence, proved an insuperable bar to much improvement in the accomplish ments befitting their station. eldest, the present Mrs. Wilson, was handsome and genteel, which her redundant vanity made her prize more than all that could be acquired from books or masters. At the age of sixteen she despised all admiration but what arose from the beauty of her person, and found the height of her ambition centre in being a favourite toast. At the age of twenty she married a young country esquire, but capricious and ill-tempered: happiness was not attainable. which side lay the greatest blame I know not; but certain it is they led a jangling life, from which she was released by his death in her fortieth year. Her father and mother being also dead, she became mistress of a very considerable fortune, besides the estate of B. Hall. In less than a year she bestowed herself on a gay young officer, whom she likewise buried, and in her forty-eighth year married the present Mr. Wilson. They have been married three years, and he is now about thirty. On He was educated for the law; but being of rather an indolent disposition, chose the shorter method of gaining lands and hereditaments by marrying this rich widow, rather than by poring over Coke and Littleton. To win her affections was no very difficult task for a man of nis age; to make her happy is past the art of man. Fretful, and still a slave to vanity, she is ever out of humour with herself and others. What happiness, as I have heard you, dear madam, often observe, can we expect to meet with in the decline of life, if we do not in our youth lay in a stock of solid sense and useful accomplishments? Mr. Wilson is good-tempered, and though by no means a foolish man, yet he has not bright parts: but he is bless d with an uncommon share of insensibility; I say blessed, for if he were not of such a disposition, he must be very miserable in a wife of Mrs. Wilson's description. Our other cousin I have not seen, but understand from my brother that she is a woman who knows what's what. This expression of his I have always considered to imply economy, and the art of saving money. She is a rich widow, with two daughters • and a son, and lives about two miles from this place; so, no doubt, we shall pay her a visit, when we shall be able to judge for ourselves. Mrs. Wilson was fond of our mother: when we were very young we were taken notice of by her, but that was in our mother's life-time. It is now fourteen years since she has enquired after us, and it is from a sudden whim that she has renewed her acquaintance with us: a whim as sudden may dismiss us, for on such capricious bangs there is no dependence. I finish the leave Harriet to scription of our recepShe is all spirits, and can e..ve entertainment from tion here, &c. every trithing occurrence. She has just read what I have written.Thank you,' said she, for giving the outlines of our cousin's character; I will give the finish:' a few descriptions will bring you perfectly acquainted with master and mistress. -I will not, however, resign my pen till I have thanked my dear friend and monitress for her last letter: the advice therein contained I will endeavour to follow, although I find it indeed a painful task. I have written, as I was requested, to Mrs. Ambrose: her correspondence will be a high honour and advantage I am extremely concerned at the increased complaint in your head; I hope yet its removal, and that you may enjoy many years of health and happiness. Your own Susan cannot more ardently desire it than does your ever obliged and to me. I HAVE at length, dear Susan, got possession of Alaria's pen: what a melancholy description has she given of this mansion, as a scene of illhumour and dulness! Now I am as gay as possible: the ill-humour of the mistress makes me in the best temper imaginable, and the dulness of the master furnishes me with a subject for laughter. This house is very large and old; the gardens are very extensive, and in the summer no doubt beautiful. But I will not freeze you while sitting at your Christmas fire with a description of cascades all ice, and avenues of trees covered with snow. We keep a coach, three men and three women servants, besides gardeners.Poor Maria and I were set down from a stage-coach by the light of a lanthorn in the midst of this re tinue on a rainy night, and ushered into the house tired to death, and tumbled out of all form from our journey. Your names, ladies,' said John, "if you please.' Vernon,' said I. 'Mrs. Vernon,' echoed John, as he opened a parlour door, with an air peculiar to his fraternity. At the further end of an immense large room sat, on each side the fire, two strange-looking people in elbow stuffed chairs, such as we see in such rooms, in the attitude of dozing by fire-light. Our entrance roused the gentleman, and he accosted us very civilly. The ladies are arrived, my dear,' said he. 'Oh, are you come?' said she, looking up: 'pray be seated. You will excuse my rising; I have the rheuOh! what a matism all over me. shooting I have in my toe!' We took chairs, and expressed our sorrow at finding her so ill. 'I am always ill,' said she; and was beginning to inform us the nature of her complaint, when her husband, chucking her under the chin, said, Come, come, my love, you must be better now your cousins are come!'-Now, Susan, can you conceive any thing more laughable than a young man of thirty chucking a woman of fifty-three under the chin? It was well for me the candles were not arrived. I looked at Maria, but she could stand this sight with her usual gravity. Candles were now brought, and the lady was diverted from her subject by the contemplation of our persons. She sat for some time silent, gazing on us both by turns, while her sweet husband stirred the fire.At length the lady began. Bless me, what a very great difference in the persons of you girls! I never could have guessed you were isters. Pray what are your ages?— We informed her. It is very well,' said she to Maria, you are past growing; how prodigiously tall you are! I admire a tall woman, but you really are above the standard.' Do you think so, madam?' said I always wished to be the height of my sister.' Why, you are too short, to be sure: but people can't help what they are. You look vastly pale, miss Vernon are you ill?' 'I am a good deal fatigued with my journey at present, though I generally look pale.' I am not fond of seeing a great colour in the cheeks,' (looking at me, who you know am rather rosy); 'but there are extremes in all things. Your mother was quite the milkmaid, and I see my cousin Harriet takes after her. She is the very image of her mother. You should always wash in warm water, my dear.' As there was no answering to these curious observations, I employed my eyes in viewing the person of this criticising lady and her husband. -- She is a very fine fat-looking elderly woman, and in her youth must, I think, have been very handsome; she is now neither more or less than a beauty in the vale of years, though it is easy to discover that she is by no means of that opinion. Mr. Wilson has no pretensions to a good person: he is clumsy and awkward; his countenance is rather heavy than vacant : he sometimes seems to be of a good temper; perhaps I may find other good qualities on a further acquaintance. I cannot at present divest myself of prejudice against a young man who could, to indulge an indolent disposition, unite himself to a woman he must despise.. Maria, to give a turn to the subject, gave our brother's respects. True,' observed she, I am very inattentive; I hope he is well. You have lived with him some years, I suppose. Let me see; when your mother died you was placed with a mistress: I forget her name.' West,' said my sister; and we never found the loss of a mother, from her kind care and attention. To her we are indebted for our education and instruction in all that is good and conducive to our happiness.' In this manner would Maria have went on, had not Mrs. Wilson observed there was something in the fire that resembled a ship in full sail.— You must know,' said she, 'I frequently amuse myself with looking into the fire, where I fancy I see figures of all descriptions. Mr. Wilson laughs at me; but I will appeal to all of you if that (pointing with the poker) is not just like a ship.' I confessed I had not discernment to discover the resemblance; but said I admired her method of amusement, as I supposed she was not able to read by candle-light. You are much mistaken, miss: my eyes are as good as ever they were.' Tea was then brought, and I was requested to make it; when I received many instructions in the art of teamaking: and so completely was the thread of Maria's story broken off, that it was impossible to resume it the whole evening. We went to bed early, happy, as you may suppose, to be released. The next morning we breakfasted with Mr. Wilson, she always having: hers in bed. He was much more chatty than the night before, and we began to get acquainted. I ventured to rally him on his easy chair, and hope to succeed in turning it out. 354 we found a free conveyance, which Poor Mr. our nurses. S-, and poor Mr. K-,' said ria. It is Harriet!' exclaimed Ma It is your mother,' said she, taken at the age of twenty. The picture was like her, but rather flattered her.' Maria says if I had sat myself I could not have a stronger likeness. I must take care I am not vain, for this picture is really very handsome: whilst we continue here I believe there is no great danger of our becoming vain, for Mrs. Wilson is continually finding defects in our persons. We now took the opportunity of We have not yet seen our cousin Dorcas has proweak, and in a state to take alarm at every trifle. mised to write to us, and I assure you is no bad pen-woman. I will not speak to her grammatical knowledge; but she is a very tolerable speller, having, before she entered into our family, kept a day-school for little children.-Farewell, my dear Susan! let us hear from you soon, when I will write again, as I think I can never want a subject whilst I continue an inmate in this house. Yours most affectionately, HARRIET VERNON. LETTER XXVII. I THANK you, my dear Maria, for |