equal to my highest wishes. With respect to the subject of the letter you gave me this morning, I can only say, that I have no objection to your complying with the young gentleman's request, as I think it may be for your mutual happiness. Indeed, I had some suspicion of it before he left this place; but being well convinced of his merit, I was almost assured no step of that nature would be taken without my consent. That you have, and even my approbation. May you both be as happy as I wish! I desire no more." Here the good man stopped, tears hindered him from proceeding, and me from making a reply. A scene of tenderness ensued, which you may feel, although I cannot describe it. His own letter will convince you, and you may make what use of it you pleasc.

I cannot conclude without mentioning your conduct at the New York ball. Was there none among so many beauties able to attract my William's notice; and will he at all times prefer my company to that of the gay and the beautiful? I will hope so, and happy shall I be if not disappointed. In hopes of hearing from you soon, I shall subscribe myself

Yours forever.

LETTER 111.

The Father's Answer to the young Gentleman.

MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,

Ever since I first had the pleasure of your conversation, I considered you as a young gentleman of real merit, who would not be guilty of an ungenerous action, and to that was owing not only the respect I always treat

ed you with, but also the common indulgence to converse freely with my daughter. I can freely excuse your not communicating your sentiments to me before you left this place. Your ardour was somewhat precipitate, and, as you well observe, I know what it is to be in love. The account of your uncle and family I know to be true, for I met with that worthy person who is your benefactor a few days ago at the stage office in this city, and he confirms the truth of all you have written. My dear sir, if ever you live to be a father, you will know what I feel on the present occasion; a willingness to give her to you, from a firm persuasion of your merit; and anxiety for her preservation, from a conviction in my own mind, that there is nothing permanent in this world. However, sir, you have my free consent to marry my child, and may the Divine Providence be your guide in the whole of your progress through this life! My ill state of health serves as a monitor to inform you, that my time in this world will be but short; and there is nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see my dear Sophia happily settled, before I retire to the land of forgetfulness, where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest. How great, sir, is the charge which I commit to your care; the image of a beloved wife long since dead, and the hope of my declining years! Her education has been consistent with her rank in life, and her conduct truly virtuous. I have not the least doubt of her conjugal duty, and your felicity in acting conformable to the character of a husband. Upon that supposition I leave her entirely to you; and as soon as you can obtain leave from the colonel, I shall expect to see you at this place, to receive from my hands all that is dear to me in this

world.

Your uncle has likewise promised to be here, so that all things are according to your professed wishes. I am, sir, yours sincerely.

LETTER 112.

From a young Man just out of his Apprenticeship, to his Sweetheart, in the neighborhood.

DEAR SALLY,

I have been long in love with you, but was afraid to tell you. When I go with you to the Theatre or Vauxhall Garden, I am almost like a fool, and altogether unfit for company. I think of you all day, and at night, I dream of my dear Sally. I am well settled in work, and my wages are eight dollars every week. You and I can live on that, and I shall bring it home untouched on Saturday evening. I will not go to any tavern, but as soon as my work is done, return home to my dearly beloved Sally. I hope, my dear, you will not be angry, for I am really in love. I cannot be happy unless you are mine. I was afraid to mention this to you, but if you will leave an answer at my lodgings, I will meet you next Sunday after dinner, at the Battery, when we will take a walk to Vauxhall and drink tea. How happy shall I be to hear from my charmer; but a thousand times more to think she will be mine.

11

I am, my dear, your real lover.

LETTER 113.

The Answer.

DEAR JACK,

I received your very kind letter, but I do not know what to say in answer. Although I would be glad to marry, yet you men are so deceiving, that there is no such thing as trusting you. There is Tom. Timber, the carpenter, and Jack Hammer, the smith, who have not been married above six months, and every night come home drunk, and beat their wives. What a miserable life is that, Jack, and how do I know but you may be as bad to me? How do I know but you, like them, may get drunk every night, and beat me black and blue before morning! I do assure you, Jack, if I thought that would be the case, I would scrub floors and scour saucepans as long as I live. But possibly you may not be so bad; for there is Will. Cooper, the brasier, and Peter Jackson the printer, who are both very happy with their wives; they are both home-bringing husbands, and have every day a hot joint of meat. I know not yet what I shall do, but as I like to walk to Vauxhall, I will meet you at the Battery, on Sunday after dinner, and then we will talk more of the matter.

I am, dear Jack,

your most humble servant.

LETTER 114.*

From the Gentleman.

MADAM,

It was a question among the stoics, whether the whole of human life afforded most pleasure or pain? For my own part, I have always wished to consider things in the fairest light, but I often find my resolution weakened: and when I think to act the philosopher, I feel myself nothing but a man. When my late wife died, about two years ago, I proposed making the tour of England, that by mixing with strangers, my thoughts might be led from fruitless reflections on the loss I had sustained: a loss which none but myself knew. It is true, it has been so far successful, that it has taught me two things; first resignation to the will of heaven; and, secondly, that I am still unhappy in the want of a female partner. The agreeable company at the house of your worthy brother, obliged me to spend more time at York than I at first intended; nor did I know, until I had proceeded some miles, that I should be obliged once more to return. In short, madam, I am a second time in love; and athough you may be disposed to laugh, yet I assure you I am in real earnest; your own dear self is the object. But perhaps you will ask, how happens all this? I answer, that I cannot tell how it happens. But I am really fond of domestic life, and am once more resolved to alter my condition. I cannot flatter, and I think both you and I have lived long enough to judge for ourselves. There was some

*The six following are genuine, and passed between a Gentleman and Lady in England some time ago, but were once before published.