cularly competent to give advice, but I looked all attention to the appeal.

"Read his letter, Gilbert," continued my father-in-law, handing it to me, "that's allonly just read it."

I knew my fate, and bowed submission, although I wanted no "documents" to confirm me in the opinion I had formed of the above Lieutenant.

"DEAR SIR,—I do assure you that no circumstances of my life ever gave me so much pain as those which in my mind render it necessary that I should address this letter to you—I am quite sure that you will receive it in the spirit in which it is written, and that you will, before you have reached its termination, feel equally satisfied with myself that the course I have adopted is that which is best calculated to ensure the happiness of two persons in whom (in different degrees, I admit) you are under all the circumstances, deeply interested.

"The long intercourse which I have had the

gratification of enjoying with your amiable family, has given me the best opportunity of forming the highly favourable opinion of Miss Wells which I have ventured to express to you, and which I believe was not ill-received by the young lady herself; in fact I saw as I have repeatedly avowed, nothing but a bright prospect of happiness with her in that union which you were pleased to sanction.

"You will recollect, dear Sir, that at the time when my aunt, Miss Pennefather, from whose house I now write, made a proposition to me with regard to a fortune to become mine, saddled with a condition which would inevitably destroy the hopes of comfort which I then anticipated with Miss Fanny, I made such a communication as induced you to leave me open to choose between the object of my affections and the mere worldly advantage to be derived from its abandonment. My conduct proved the strength of my attachment to your daughter, and I returned hastily and happily to the bosom of your family, in which I passed so

many delightful hours, and I honestly confess that the reception I met with from Miss Fanny was most gratifying to me; although I must admit that I did not think the conduct of Mrs. Wells afforded any striking proof of her sympathy with the feelings of her daughter; indeed, on the contrary, it appeared to me that her manner towards me was considerably changed, and her bearing was such as to convey an impression to my mind that she imagined I ought not to have listened to my aunt's suggestion in the first instance.

Now, dear Sir, I should perhaps here mention that my Aunt, Miss Laura Pennefather, uniformly acts upon the highest principle, and that although her affection for me induced her to draw my attention to what she calls worldly interests,' (however highly she herself soars above such considerations,) the moment she found that it was impossible for me to overcome the affection which I confessed to her I felt for your amiable daughter, she made the arrange. ment which I subsequently communicated to

you, by which she divided between myself and her protégé the sum which, independently of what she may otherwise leave, she had intended to bequeath entire for her fortune if she had married me.

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Having conscientiously and upon principle fairly made the sacrifice-if sacrifice that can be considered which merely surrenders the world's goods, keeping the heart's feelings still secure, I returned to your house; and as I hoped, and I need not say wished, all seemed to go on well. I repeat, that Mrs. Wells's manner was not altogether agreeable: however, when a man really loves—and I appeal to you as one who has loved in the sense of the words in which I now use them-there are few obstacles which are invincible; and I resolved to bear up against whatever I felt irksome, and look forward to the consummation of my happiness in my approaching union with Miss Wells:-but I am sure you will forgive me,-circumstances did occur, to which I have already alluded in conversation with Miss Wells, which gave me much pain.

"You have, during our acquaintance, and so indeed has your son-in-law, Mr. Gilbert Gurney, taken many opportunities of alluding in terms of a not very particularly qualified character to my political feelings and principles-to this there can be no possible objection—but it shows the animus, as it is called--and when, in addition to the intolerant political spirit which seems to govern your clerical conduct, I find in you and your family a disposition to ridicule what I consider the true course of religious feeling, and hear you indulging in a jocose manner upon topics which I have been taught never to touch without reverence, I begin to think that a connexion between us would lead to no favourable results.

My Aunt, Miss, or as she now calls herself, Mrs. Pennefather, is one of those rigidly correct persons, whose feelings are outraged by the slightest deviation from the strict path of piety and rectitude-she has questioned me constantly and deeply on the subject of Miss Wells's religious principles, and I have always met her