You a

mercy has preserved you hitherto, will perfect your recovery. constantly in my thoughts, and I pray for you every day. That I may once more be happy in seeing you, I have sent for my brother to manage my business during my absence. I expect him here in about ten days, when nothing but sickness shall prevent my coming. You will receive by the coach a small parcel containing some of the newest paterns both of silks and laces, together with some other things. Such trifles are scarce worth mentioning; but I hope you will accept them as a testimony of my sincere love to her whom in a few months I hope to call my own. Present my duty to your honored parents, and believe me to be, with the greatest sincerity, Your ever affectionate lover.

LETTER 121.

From a rich young Gentleman, to a beautiful young Lady, with no

MISS SOPHIA,

fortune.

It is a general reflection against the manners of the present age, that narriage is only considered one of the methods by which avarice may be satisfied, and poverty averted; that neither the character nor accomplishments of the woman are much regarded, her merit being estimated by the thousands of her fortune. I acknowledge that the accusation is 'oo true, and to that may be ascribed the many unhappy matches we laily meet with; for how is it possible that those should ever have the same affection for each other, who were forced to comply with terms to which they had the utmost aversion, as if they had been allowed to consult their own inclinations and give their hands where they have engaged their hearts? For my own part, I have been always determined to consult my inclination where there is the least appearance of happiness; and having an easy independency, am not anxious about increasing it; being well convinced that in all states the middle one is best, I mean neither poverty nor riches; which leads me to the discovery of a passion for you, which I have long endeavored to conceal.

The opportunities which I have had of conversing with you at Mrs. Baker's have at last convinced me that merit and riches are far from being connected, and that a woman may have those qualifications necessry to adorn her sex, although adverse fortune has denied her money I am sure all those virtues necessary to make me happy in the marriage state are centred in you, and whatever objection you may have to my person, yet I hope there can be none to my character; and if you will consent to be mine, it shall be my constant study to make your life agreeaole, and under the endearing character of a husband endeavor to supply your early loss of the best of parents. I shall expect your answer as soon as possible, for I wait for it with the utmost impatience. I am your affectionate lover

SIR,

LETTER 122.

The young Lady's Answer.

I received your letter yesterday, and gratitude for the generous po

posal which you have made obliges me to thank you heartily for the

contents.

As I have no objections either to your person or character, you will give me leave to deal sincerely, and state those things which at present have great weight with me, and perhaps must ever remain unanswered, and hinder me from entering into that state against which I have not the least aversion.

You well know, at least I imagine so, that the proposal you have made me is a secret both to your relations and friends; and would you desire me to rush precipitately into the marriage state, where I have the greatest reason to fear that I should be looked upon with contempt by those whom nature had connected me with? I should consider myself obliged to promote the happiness of my husband; and how consistent would a step of that nature be with such a resolution? You know that I was left an orphan, and had it not been for the pious care of Mrs. Baker, must have been brought up in a state of servitude. You know that I have no fortune, and were I to accept of your offer, it would lay me under such obligations as must destroy my liberty. Gratitude and love are two very different things. The one supposes a benefit received, whereas the other is a free act of the will. Suppose me raised to the joint possession of your fortune, could I call it mine unless I had brought you something as an equivalent; or, have I not great reason to fear that you yourself may consider me as under obligations inconsistent with the character of a wife? I acknowledge the great generosity of your offer, and would consider myself happy could I prevail with myself to prefer to peace of mind the enjoyment of an affluent fortune. But as I have been very sincere in my answer, so let me beg that you will eradi cate a passion, which, if nourished longer, may prove fatal to us both. Yours with great respect.

MY DEAR SOPHIA,

LETTER 123.

The Gentleman's Reply.

Was it not cruel to start so many objections? Or could you suppose me capable of so base an action as to destroy your freedom and peace of mind? Or do you think that I am capable of ever forgetting you, or being happy in the enjoyment of another? For God's sake do not incntion gratitude any more. Your many virtues entitle you to much more than I am able to give; but all that I have shall be yours. With respect to my relations, I have none to consult beside my mother and my uncle, and their consent, and even approbation, are already obtained. You have often heard my mother declare, that she preferred my happiness with a woman of virtue to the greatest fortune; and although I forgot to mention it, yet I had communicated my sentiments to her before I had opened my mind to you. Let me beg you will lay aside all those unnecessary scrupies, which only serve to make one unhappy who is al ready struggling under all the anxieties of real and genuine love. It is I cap. in your power, my dear, to make me happy, and none else can. not enjoy one moment's rest till I have your answer, and then the happy time shall be fixed. Let me beg that you will no start any more obiec

tions, unless you are my real enemy; but your ter der nature cannot be so cruel. Be mine, my dear, and I am yours forever. My servant shall wait for an answer to your sincere lover, whose sole happiness 19 centred in you. Yours most affectionately.

SIR,

LETTER 124.

The Lady's Rejoinder.

I find when one of your sex forms a resolution, you are determined tc through, whatever be the event. Your answer to my first objection I must confess is satisfactory. I wish I could say so of the others; bu I find that if I must comply I shall be obliged to trust the remainder to yourself. Perhaps this is always the case, and the most cautions have been deceived. However, sir, I have communicated the contents of your letter to Mrs. Baker, as you know she has been to me as a parent She has no objection, and I am at last resolved to comply. I must give myself up to you as a poor friendless orphan, and shall endeavor to act consistent with the rules laid down and enforced by our holy religion and if you should so far deviate from the paths of virtue as to upbraid me with poverty, I have no friends to complain to, but that God who is the "father of the fatherless." But I have a better opinion of you than to entertain any such fears. I have left the time to your own appointment and let me beg that you will continue in the practice of that virtuous education which you have received. Virtue is its own reward, and I cannot be unhappy with the man who prefers the duties of religion to gaiety and dissipation: I am yours sincerely.

SIR,

LETTER 125.

From a Lady to a Gentleman, complaining of indifference

However light you may make of promises, yet I am foolish enough to consider them as something more than trifles; and am likewise induced to believe that the man who voluntarily breaks a promise will not pay much regard to an oath; and if so, in what light must I consider your conduct? Did I not give you my promise to be yours, and had you no other reason for soliciting than merely to gratify your vanity? A brutal gratification, indeed, to triumph over the weakness of a woman whose greatest fault was that she loved you. I say loved you, for it was in consequence of that passion I first consented to become yours. Has your conduct, sir, been consistent with my submission, or your own solemn profession? Is it consistent with the character of a gentleman, first to obtain a woman's consent, and afterwards boast that he had dis carded her, and found one more agreeable to his wishes? Do not equivocate; I have too convincing proofs of your insincerity; I saw you yesterday walking with Miss Benson, and am informed that you have proposed marriage to her. Whatever you may think, sir, I have a spirit of disdain, and even of resentment, equal to your ingratitude, and "can, treat the wretch with a proper indifference, who can make so slight a matter of the most solemn promises. Miss Benson ay become your wife, but she will receive into her arms a perjured husband; nor can ev

or the superstructure be lasting which is built on such a slight foundation I leave you to the stings of your own conscience. I am the injured.

MY DEAR MARIA,

LETTER 126.

The Gentleman's Reply.

For by that name I must still call you; has cruelty entered into your ender nature, or has some designing wretch imposed on your credulity? My dear, I am not what you have represented. am neither false nor perjured; I never proposed marriage to Miss Benson; I never intended it; and my sole reason for walking with her was, that I had been on a visit to her brother, whom you know is my attorney. And was it any fault in me to take a walk in the fields with him and his sister? Surely prejudice itself cannot say so: but I am afraid you have been imposed apon by some designing person, who had private views and private ends to answer by such business. But whatever may have been the cause, am entirely innocent; and to convince you of my sincerity, beg that the day of marriage may be next week. My affections never so much as wandered from the dear object of my love; in you are centred all my hopes of felicity; with you only can I be happy. Keep me not in misery one moment longer, by entertaining groundless jealousies against one who loves you in a manner superior to the whole of your sex; and I can set at defiance even malice itself. Let me beg your answer by my servant, which will make me either happy or miserable. I have sent a small parcel by the bearer, which I hope you will accept, and believe me, my dear, Yours forever.

LETTER 127.

From a young Officer, ordered to his regiment in Minorca, to a young Lady whom he had courted.

MY DEAR,

I can scarce hold my pen. An order has just now arrived from the war office, by which I am obliged to set sail tomorrow for Minorca, without having the pleasure of seeing you. What unhappiness to us, and devastation among the human race has the ambition of princes, and the perfidiousness of ministers occasioned! Husbands obliged to leave their wives, and their dear little children; every relation is broken; and we may well say with Addison—

What havoc has ambition made!

But what is this to my present purpose? Like all others in a state of distraction, I am obliged to write nonsense, if any thing can be so called where the name of my dear charmer is found. Did you know, my dear, what a struggle I have between love and duty, you would consider me as an object of compassion. I am bound by the most solemn oaths o be yours, and at the same time duty obliges me to draw my sword is defence of the rights of my injured country; and, whatever dangers may wait for me, I would meet them with the greatest cheerfulness were sure of possessing one place in your heart. But why do I say one? must have all or none; I cannot bear the most distant thought that vou

would place your affections on another. No, my dear, were that to hap pen, I would act the part of General Campbell, at the fatal battle of Fonteney, by rushing on the sword of the enemy to put an end to a wea ry existence. I should cheerfully lay down my life, which could be of small value, were I to be separated from you. But why do I doubt ? ! Know my charmer is as virtuous as she is beautiful, and that nothing but my own conduct can ever make her discard me.

But is not absence death to those who love? However, I have the pleasing reflection yet left, that whilst I am in a distant part of the world, attending my duty, I shall be remembered by her whose prayers for my preservation will be acceptable to that God who loves virtue, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. Nothing in this world can ev. er be so dear to me as you are. Believe all I say, and I am happy. I' I do any thing that may appear wrong, inform me of it, and it shall be my first care to confess my fault and amend. I desire your advice in every thing; but, alas! separation will render it difficult, though not impossible. Not having had time to settle with our agent, I have left an order for that purpose. Let me beg that you will visit my dear mother; she will esteem it as respect shown to me. I have often told you what an excellent woman she is, and I am fully persuaded you will find her so; yes, more so than I ever mentioned. We are to stop at Gibraltar, where I hope to have a letter from you. If it comes too late the Governor will forward it to Minorca. Once more, my dear, farewell; continue to be mine, and all the vicissitudes and dangers of war will appear as trifles; and, when peace shall again bless the nations, 1 will fly on the wings of love to the arms of my dearest angel, and spend with her the remainder of my days. I am your sincere lover.

LETTER 128.

The Lady's Answer.

DEAR CHARLES,

If your hand could scarcely hold the pen, I am afraid this will appear unintelligible, being wet with tears from beginning to end. When your letter arrived we were drinking tea, and my father reading the newspaper, wherein it was said that all the officers in the army were ordered to join their regiments. I was a good deal alarmned, but some hopes remained, till the fatal letter convinced me that my suspicions were too well founded. Alas! how vain are human expectations! In the moruing we dream of happiness, and before evening are really miserable. I was promising to myself that one month would have joined our hands, and now we are separated, perhaps for years, if not forever. For, how do I know but the next post may bring me an account of your being killed in battle, and then farewell every thing in this world. My pleas ing prospects will then vanish, and, although unmarried, will remain a widow till death. And is it possible you can doubt one moment of my sincerity; or do you think that those affections can ever be placed on another which were first placed on you, from a convincing proof of your accomplishments and merit? No, my dear, my fidelity to you shall re main as unspotted as this paper, before it was blotted with ink and be dewed with tears. I know not how others love, but my engagements