and attracted not any body's notice: And inIdeed I had as lief these honours were not so publicly paid her; for even, were I fond of show and parade, what are they, but a reproach to me? -And can I have any excellence, but a secondary one, in having, after all my persecutions of her, done but common justice to her merit?

This answers your objection, Lady Davers, and shews, that my inducements and her story must be equally known. And, upon my conscience, I think, (every thing I have said considered, and every thing that might still farther be urged, and the conduct of that dear creature in the station she adorns so much exceeding all I hoped, or could flatter myself with, from the most promising appearances,) that she does me more honour, than I have done her; and if I am capable of putting myself in a third person's place, I think I should be of the same opinion, were I to determine upon such another pair, exactly circumstanced as we are.

You may believe, my friend, how much this generous defence of the step he had taken, attributing every thing to me, and depreciating his worthy self, affected me. I played with a cork one while; with my rings another, turning them round my fingers; looked down, and on one side; and every way I looked, but on the company for they gazed too much upon me all the time; so that I could only glance a tearful eye now and then upon the dear man; and when it would overflow, catch in my handkerchief the escaped fugitives, that would start unbidden beyond their proper limits, though I often endeavoured, by a twinkling motion, to disperse the gathering water, before it had formed itself into drops too big to be restrained.

All the company praised the dear generous speaker: and he was pleased to say farther, Although, my good friends, I can truly say, that with all the pride of family, and the insolence of fortune, which once made me doubt whether I should not sink too low, if I made my Pamela my mistress, (for I should then have treated her not ungenerously, and should have suffered her, perhaps, to call herself by my name,) I have never once repented of what I have done: On the contrary, I have always rejoiced in it; and it has been, from the first day of our marriage, my pride and my boast, (and shall be, let others say what they will,) that I can call such an excellence, and such a purity, which I so little deserve, mine; and I look down with contempt upon the rashness of all such as reflect upon me; for they can have no notion of my happiness, or her merit.

O dear sir, said I, how do you over-rate my poor merit!-Some persons are happy in a life of comforts, but mine's a life of joy!-One rapturous instance follows another so fast, that I know not how to bear them.

Whew!-whistled Sir Jacob-Whereabouts am I?—I hope, by and by, you'll come down

to our pitch, that one may put in a word or two with you.

May you be long thus blest, and thus happy together! said Lady Davers. I know not which to admire most, the dear girl that never was bad; or the dear gentleman, that having been bad, is now so good!

Said my Lord Davers, There is hardly any bearing these moving scenes, following one another so quick, as my sister says.

The Countess was pleased to say, That, till now, she had been at a loss to form any notion of the happiness of the first pair before the fall: But now, by so fine an instance as this, she comprehended it in all its force.-God continue you to one another, added her ladyship, for a credit to the state, and to human nature.

Mr H having his elbows on the table, folded his hands, shaking them and looking down, Egad, this is uncommon life, that it is! -Your two souls, I can see that, are like welltuned instruments: But they are too high set for me a vast deal.

The best thing, said Lady Davers, (always severe upon her poor nephew,) thou ever saidst. The music must be equal to that of Orpheus, which can make such a savage as thee dance to it. I charge thee, say not another word to

night.

Why, indeed, aunt, returned he, laughing, I believe it was pretty well said for your foolish fellow: Though it was by chance, I must confess: I did not think of it.

That I believe, replied my lady;-if thou hadst, thou'dst not have spoken so well.

Sir Jacob and Mr B- afterwards fell into a family discourse; and Sir Jacob gave us an account of two or three courtships by his three sons, and to his two daughters, and his reasons for disallowing them: And I could observe, he is an absolute tyrant in his family, though they are all men and women grown, and he seemed to please himself how much they stood in awe of him.

One odd piece of conversation I must tell you, miss, because of the inference that followed it.

Sir Jacob asked Mr B, If he did not remember John Wilkins, his steward? He was an honest fellow, said he, as ever lived.—But he's dead. Alas, for him, poor Jack !—He physicked himself out of his life. He would be always taking slops: Had I done so, I should have gone to the dogs long ago. But whom do you think, nephew, I have got in his place?Nay, you can't know him neither. Why, 'tis Jerry Sherwood, a boy I took upon charity, and taught to write and read; or paid for't, and that's the same thing-Hey, you know!-And now Jerry's a gentleman's fellow, and is much respected by all our hunters; for he's a keen sportsman, I'll assure you. I brought him up to that myself, and many a jerk has the dog

had from me, before I could make any thing of him. Many and many a good time have I thwacked the rascal's jacket; and he owes all he is, and will be, to me: And I now suffer him to sit down at table with me, when I have no guests.

But is not this a bad example, said Mr Bto promote so low a servant to the command of the family under you? What do gentlemen say to this?

Gentlemen say to it?-Why, what gentlemen have any thing to do with my family management? Surely I may do as I will in my own house, and in my own family, or else it would be very hard.

True, Sir Jacob; but people will be meddling, where they have least business. But are not all the gentlemen uneasy, for fear their lowest servants, from the example set by so leading a man as you, a chairman of the sessions, a colonel of militia, a deputy lieutenant, and a justice of quorum, should want to be made their stewards?

Why, I can't say that any body has taken it into their heads to question me upon this subject. I should think them plaguy impertinent, if they had, and bid them mind their own bu

siness.

But you'll allow, Sir Jacob, that every one who knows you have raised your foot-boy to be your steward, will not know your inducements; although, I doubt not, they are very good ones. Lady Davers shook her head at her brother, saying, Very well, sir! very well!

Sir Jacob cried out, O ho, nephew—are you thereabouts with your bears! Why, I can't say but you're in with me now.-Let's see, what have I said? Ay, by my soul, you have nabbed me cleverly. Faith and troth, you have convinced me, by an example of my own, that I was impertinent to trouble my head about the management of your family.-Though near kindred makes some excuse for me, too. -And, besides, a steward and a wife are two things.

So I'd have 'em be, Sir Jacob. But good wives are but stewards to their husbands in many cases; and mine is the best that ever man had.

Pretty expensive ones, nephew, for all that, as the world runs.-Most gentlemen find, I believe, stewards of this sort run them out more than they save; but that's not your case, I dare say.-I'faith, though, you have nicked me cleverly; that you have.

But, my witty brother, said my lady, I believe you'd better, for all your fling at me, as to inducements, stick to your first defence, as to the example sake; for, who stands upon birth or degree in the office of a steward?

It will answer several purposes, sister, and come nearer the point in what you object, than you are aware of, were we to dispute upon

VOL. VI.

it.

But I have gained my end in the observation : Sir Jacob takes the force of the comparison, and is convinced, I dare say, there is some justice in it.

Ay, ay, a great deal, said Sir Jacob; for a wife is, or ought to be, her husband's steward. I'm sure, when mine was living, I made her so, and had no other; for she made memorandums, and I digested them into a book; and yet she brought me a noble fortune too, as you all know.

Here, miss, I conclude my tedious narrations. Be so good as to skim them over lightly, that you may not think the worse of me; and then return them, (with some of your charming penmanship,) that I may send them on to Kent. To be sure, I would not have been so tediously trifling, but for the sake of my dear parents; and there is so much self-praise, as it may seem, from a person repeating the fine things said of herself, that I am half of opinion I should send them to Kent only, and to think you should be obliged to me for saving you so much trouble and impertinence.

Do, dear miss, be so free as to forbid me to send you any more long journals, but common letters only, of How you do? and who and who's together; and of respects to one, and to another, and so forth.-Letters that one might dispatch, as Sir Jacob says, in a twinkling, and, perhaps, be more to the purpose, than the tedious scrawl, which kisses your hands, from Yours, most sincerely,

P. B

Do, dear, good Sir Simon, let Miss Polly add to our delights, by her charming company. Mr Murray, and the new affair, will divert you in her absence. So pray, since my good Lady Darnford has consented, and she is willing, and her sister can spare her, don't be so cross as to deny me.

LETTER XXXIV.

MISS DARNFORD TO MRS B

MY DEAR MRS B

You have given us great pleasure in your accounts of your conversations, and of the verses put so boldly and wickedly under your seat; and in your just observations on the lines, and the occasion.

I am quite shocked, when I think of Lady Davers's passionate intentions, at her first ccming down to you to the Hall, but have let nobody into the worst of the matter, in compliance with your desire. We are delighted with your account of your family management, and your Sunday's service.-What an excellent lady are you! And how happy, and how good, you make.

Y

every one who knows you, is seen by the ladies joining in your evening service, as well as their domestics.

We go on here swimmingly with our courtship. Never was there a fonder couple, than Mr Murray and Miss Nancy. The moody girl is quite alive, easy, and pleased, except now and then with me. We had a sad falling-out t'other day. Thus it was:

She had the assurance, on my saying they were so fond and so free beforehand, that they would leave nothing for improvement afterwards; to tell me, She had for some time perceived, that my envy was very disquieting to me. This she said before Mr Murray, who had the good manners to retire, seeing a storm rising between us.

Poor foolish girl! cried I, when he was gone, provoked to great contempt by her expression before him, Thou wilt make me despise thee in spite of my heart!-But pr'ythee manage thy matters with common decency, at least.

Good lack! Common decency, did you say? When my sister Polly is able to shew me what it is, I shall hope to be better for her example. No, thou'lt never be better for any body's example! Thy ill-nature and perverseness will keep thee from that, as it has always hitherto done.

My ill-temper, you have often told me, is natural to me; so it must become me. But upon such a sweet-tempered young lady as Miss Polly, her late assumed petulance sits but ill!

I must have had no bad temper, and that every one says, to bear with thy sullen and perverse one, as I have done all my life.

But why can't you bear with it a little longer, sister? Does any thing provoke you now, (with a sly leer, and affected drawl,) that did not formerly?

Provoke me!-What should provoke me? I gave thee but a hint of thy fond folly, which makes thee behave so before company, that every one smiles at thee; and I'd be glad to save thee from contempt for thy new good humour, as I used to try to do for thy old bad na

ture.

Is that it? What a kind sister have I! But, perhaps, I see it vexes you; and ill-natured folks love to teaze, you know. But, dear Polly, don't let the affection Mr Murray expresses for me, put such a good-tempered body out of humour, pray don't! Who knows, (continued the provoker, who never says a tolerable thing that is not ill-natured, that being her talent,) but the gentleman may think himself happy, that he has found a way, with so much ease, to dispense with the difficulty that eldership laid him under? But as he did you the favour to let the repulse come from you, don't be angry, sister, that he took you at the first word.

Indeed, indeed, said I, with a contemptuous smile, thou'rt in the right, Nancy, to take the

gentleman at his first word. Hold him fast, and play over all thy monkey tricks with him, with all my heart: Who knows but it may engage him more? For should he leave thee, I might be too much provoked at thy ingratitude, to turn over another gentleman to thee-And let me tell thee, without such an introduction, thy temper would keep any body from thee, that knows it.

Poor Miss Polly!-Come, be as easy as you can! Who knows but we may find out some cousin or friend of Mr Murray's between us, that we may persuade to address you? Don't make us your enemies: We'll try to make you easy, if we can-Tis a little hard, that you should be so cruelly taken at your word, that it is.

Dost think, said I, poor, stupid, ill-judging Nancy, that I can have the same regret for parting with a man I could not like, that thou hadst, when thy vain hopes met with the repulse they deserved from Mr B—? Mr B

come up again! I have not heard of Mr B- a great while.

No, but it was necessary that one nail should drive out another; for thou'dst been repining still, had not Mr Murray been turned over to thee.

methinks,

Turned over! You used that word once before, sister. Such great wits as you, should not use the same word twice.

How dost thou know what wits should, or should not do? Thou hast no talent but ill-nature, and 'tis enough for thee, that one view takes up thy whole thought. Pursue that-But I would only caution thee, not to satiate where thou wouldst oblige, that's all: Or, if thy man can be so gross, as to like thy fondness, to leave something for hereafter.

shall

I'll call him in again, sister, and you acquaint us how you'd have it.-Bell, (for the maid came in just then,) tell Mr Murray I desire him to walk in.

I'm glad to see thee so teachable all at once! I find now what was the cause of thy constant perverseness; for had the unavailing lessons my mamma was always inculcating into thee, come from a man thou couldst have had hopes of, they had succeeded better.

In came Sir Simon, with his crutch-stickBut can you bear this nonsense, Mrs B What! sparring, jangling again, you sluts!— O what fiery eyes on one side, and contemptu

ous looks on t'other!

Why, papa, my sister Polly has turned over Mr Murray to me, and she wants him back again, and he won't come-That's all the matter!

You know your daughter Nancy, papa-She never could bear reproof, and yet would always deserve it! I was only gently remarking, for her instruction, on her fondness before company. and she is as she used to be! Courtship, in

deed, is a new thing to the poor girl, and so she knows not how to behave herself in it.

So, Polly, because you have been able to run over a long list of humble servants, you must insult your sister, must you?-But are you really concerned, Polly?-Hey!

Sir, this, or any thing, is very well from you. But these imputations of envy, before Mr Murray, must make the man very considerable with himself. Poor Nancy don't consider that.But, indeed, how should she? How should she be able to reflect, who knows not what reflection is, except of the spiteful sort? But, papa, should the poor thing add to his vanity, which wants no addition, at the expence of that pride, which can only preserve her from contempt?

I saw her affected, and was resolved to pursue my advantage.

Pr'ythee, Nancy, continued I, can'st thou not have a little patience, child? My papa will set the day as soon as he shall think it proper. And don't let thy man toil to keep pace with thy fondness; for I have pitied him many a time, when I have seen him stretched on the tenters to keep thee in countenance.

This set the ill-natured girl into tears and fretfulness; all her old temper came upon her, as I designed it should, for she had kept me at bay longer than usual, and I left her under the dominion of it; and because I would not come into a fresh dispute, got my mamma's leave, and the chariot, and went and begged a dinner at Lady Jones's; and then came home as cool and as easy as I used to be; and found Nancy as sullen and silent, as was her custom before Mr Murray tendered himself to her ready acceptance. But I went to my spinnet, and suffered her to swell on.

We have said nothing but No and Yes ever since; and I wish I was with you for a month, and all their nonsense over without me. I am, my dear, obliging, and excellent Mrs B

Your faithful and affectionate
POLLY DARNFORD.

The two following, anticipating the order of time, for the reasons mentioned p. 283, we insert here.

LETTER XXXV.

MISS DARNFORD, TO MRS B

MY DEAR MRS B—, PRAY give my service to Mr B, and tell him, he is very unpolite in his reflections* upme, in relation to Mr Murray, when he supposes I regret the loss of him. You are much more favourable and just too, I will say, to your

Polly Darnford. These gentlemen, the very best of them, are such indelicates: They think so highly of their saucy selves, and confident sex, as if a lady cannot from her heart despise them; but if she turns them off, as they deserve, and happens to continue her dislike, what should be interpreted in her favour, as a just and regular piece of conduct, is turned against her, and it must proceed from spite. Mr B

may think he knows a good deal of the sex. But, perhaps, were I as malicious as he is reflecting, (and yet, if I have any malice, he has raised it,) I could say, that his acquaintance was not with the most unexceptionable, till he had the happiness to know you; and he has not long enough been happy in you, I find, to do justice to those who are proud to emulate your virtues.

But I can't bear, it seems, to see my sister addressed and complimented, and preferred by one whom I had thought in my own power; but he may be mistaken: with all his sagacity, he has been often. Nor is it so mortifying a thing to me as he imagines, to sit and see two such antics playing their pug's tricks, as he calls them, with one another.

But you hardly ever saw such pug's tricks played as they play, at so early a time of courtship. The girl hangs upon his arm, and receives his empty head on her shoulder already, with a freedom that would be censurable in a bride before folks. A stiff, sullen, proud, scornful girl, as she used to be, she now puts on airs that are not natural either to her features or her character; and judge then how it must disgust one, especially when one sees her man so proud and vain upon it, that, like a true man, he treats her with the less ceremony for her condescensions, putting on airs of consequence, while her easiness of behaviour makes him secure of acceptance, and a kind reception, let him be as negligent or as forward as he pleases.

say, Mrs B—, there can be no living with these men upon such beginnings.-They ought to know their distance, or be taught it, and not to think it in their power to confer that as a favour, which they should esteem it an honour to receive.

But neither can I bear, it seems, the preparatives to matrimony, the fine clothes, the compliments, the busy novelty, as he calls it, the new equipages, and so forth. That's his mistake again, tell him; for one who can look forwarder than the nine days of wonder, can easily despise so flashy and so transient a glare. And were I fond of compliments, it would not, perhaps, be the way to be pleased in that respect, if I were to marry.

Compliments in the single state are a lady's due, whether courted or not; and she receives

them, or ought always to receive them, as such; but in courtship they are poured out upon one like a hasty shower, that one knows will soon be over.-A mighty comfortable consideration this, to a lady who loves to be complimented.—Instead of the refreshing April-like showers, which beautify the sunshine, she shall stand a deluge of complaisance, be wet to the skin with it; and then-What then?-Why, be in a Libyan desert ever after ;-experience a constant parching drought, and all her attributed excellencies will be swallowed up in the quicksands of matrimony.

It may be otherwise with you; and it must be otherwise; because there is such an infinite variety in your excellence.-But does Mr Bthink it must be so in every matrimony?

'Tis true, he improves every hour, as I see in your kind papers, in his fine speeches to you. But it could not be Mr B- -, if he did not; your merit extorts it from him; and what an ungrateful as well as absurd churl would he be, who should seek to obscure a meridian lustre that dazzles the eyes of every one else?

But let me observe, moreover, that you had so few of these fine speeches beforehand, that you have all the reason in the world to expect them now; and this lessens his merit a good deal, as the most he can say, is but common justice, on full proof; for, can the like generosity be attributed to him, as might to a gentleman who praises on trust?

You promise if I will come to you, you will join with me against Mr B- on this subject. "Tis very kindly offered; but when Mr Bis in the question, I expect very little assistance from you, be the argument what it will.

I am

But 'tis not my fault I don't come. quite tired with the perverse folly of this Nancy of ours. She every day behaves more like a fool to Mr Murray, and less like a sister to me, and takes delight to teaze and vex me by all the little ways in her power. And then surliness and ill-temper are so natural to her, that I, who can but throw out a spiteful word by way of flourish, as I may say, and 'tis over, and I am sorry for it as soon as spoken, am no match for her-For she perseveres so intolerably, and comes back to the attack, though never so often repulsed, rising like Antæus, with fresh vigour for every fall, or like the Lernæan Hydra, which had a new head sprouting up as fast as any one of the seven was lopt off, that there is no bearing her. Wedlock, in fine, must be her Hercules, and will furnish me, I doubt, with a revenge I wish not for.

But let me thank you for your delightful narratives, and beg you to continue them. I told you how your Saturday's conversation with Lady Davers, and your Sunday's employments charmed us all; so regular, and so easy to be performcd.--That's the delightful thing.-What every body may do.--And yet so beautiful, so laud

able, so uncommon in the practice, especially among people in genteel life.

us.

Your conversation and decision in relation to the two parsons (more than charm) transport Mr B, let me tell you, judges right, and acts a charming part, to throw such a fine game into your hands. And so excellently do you play it, that you do as much credit to your partner's judgment as to your own. Never, surely, was so happy a couple.

He has a prodigious merit with me, I can tell him, though he thinks not so well of me as I would have him. To see, to praise, and to reward a virtue, is next to having it one's self; and in time, he will make as good a man (these fine appearances encourage one to hope so) as he is a husband.

Your notions of dispensations, and double livings, are admirably just. Mr Williams is more my favourite than ever.-And the amply rewarded Mr Adams, how did that scene affect us!

Again, and again, I say, (for what can I say else, or more-since I can't find words to speak all I think?) you're a charming lady.-Yet, methinks, poor Mr H- - makes but a sorry figure among you.

We are delighted with Lady Davers; but still more, if possible, with the Countess; she is a fine lady, as you have drawn her; but your characters, though truth and nature, are the most shocking, or the most amiable, that ever I read.

We are full of impatience to hear of the arrival of Sir Jacob Swynford. We know his character pretty well; but when he has sat for it to your pencil, it must be an original indeed.

I will have another trial with my papa, to move him to let me attend you. I am rallying my forces for that purpose; I have got my mamma on my side again, who is concerned to see her girl vexed and insulted by her younger sister; and who yet minds no more what she says to her than what I say; and Sir Simon loves at his heart to make mischief between us, instead of interposing to silence either; and, truly, I am afraid, the delight of this kind which he takes, will make him deny his Polly what she so ardently wishes for.

I had a good mind to be sick to be with you. I could fast two or three days to give it the better appearance. But then my mamma, who loves not deceit, would blame me if she knew my stratagem, and be grieved if she thought I was really ill. I know, fasting, when one has a stomach to eat, gives one a very gloomy and

mortified air.

What would I not do, in short, to procure to myself the inexpressible pleasure that I should have in your company and conversation! But continue to write to me till then, however, and that will be next best. I am

Your most obliged and obedient
POLLY DARNFORD.