er,

biguous behavior, and durst not reveal myself further, because my mothfrom a closet near where we sat, could hear our conversation. I have strict commands from both my parents to receive you, and am undone forever unless you will be so kind and generous as to refuse me. Consider, sir, the misery of bestowing yourself upon one who can have no prospect of happiness but from your death. This is a confession made perhaps with offensive sincerity; but that conduct is much to be preferred to a covered dislike, which could not but pall all the sweets of life, by imposing on you a companion that dotes and languishes for another. I will not go so far as to say, my passion for the gentleman whose wife I am by promise, would lead me to any thing criminal against your honor. I know it is bad enough to a man of your sense to expect nothing but forced civilities in return for tender endearments, and cold esteem for undeserved love. If you will on this occasion let reason take place of passion, I doubt not but fate has in store for you some worthier object, on whom you can depend for a reciprocal affection, in recompence of your goodness to the only woman who could be insensible to I am, sir, your most humble servant.

your merit.

LETTER 137.

From a young Lady in the country to her Father, acquainting him with an offer made to her of Marriage.

HONORED FATHER,

My duty teaches me to acquaint you with a circumstance which may become of importance, to me.

A gentleman of this town, whose name is Smith, and by business a linen draper, has made some overtures to my cousin Arnold, in the way of courtship to me. My cousin has brought him once or twice into my company, as he has a high opinion of him and his circumstances. He has been set up three years, possesses a very good business, and lives in credit and fashion. He is about twenty-seven years old, and is very good looking in his person. He seems not to want sense or manners, and is come of a good family. He has opened his mind to me, and boasts how well he can maintain me; but I assure you, sir, I have given him no encouragement, yet he resolves to persevere, and pretends extraordinary affection and esteem. I would not, sir, by any means omit to acquaint you with the beginning of an affair; that would show a disobedience unworthy of your kind indulgence and affection. Pray give my humble duty to my honored mother, love to my brother and sister, and my best respects to all my friends.

DEAR ELIZA,

I am your ever dutiful daughter.

LETTER 138.

The Answer.

I have received your letter of the first instant, relating to the addresses of Mr Smith. I would advise you neither to encourage nor discourage his suit; for if, on inquiry into his character and circumstances, I shall find that they are answerable to your cousin's good opinion of them and his own assurances, I know not but his suit may be worthy of at

tention. However, my dear girl, consider that men are deceitful, and always put the best side outwards. It may possibly, on the strict inquiry which the nature and importance of the case demands, come out far otherwise than it at present appears. Let me, therefore, advise you to act in this matter with great prudence, and that you make not yourself too cheap, for men are apt to slight what is too easily obtained. In the mean time he may be told, that you are entirely resolved to abide by my determination in an affair of this great importance. This will put him on applying to me, who, you need not doubt, will in this case, as in all others, study your good. Your mother gives her blessing to you, and joins in the advice you here receive from Your affectionate father. LETTER 139.

From Mr. Smith to the young Lady's Father.

HONORED SIR,

Though personally unknown to you, I take the liberty to declare the great value and affection I have for your amiable daughter, whom I have had the honor to see at my friend's house. I should think myself entirely unworthy of her favor and your approbation, if I could have thought of influencing her resolution but in obedience to your pleasure, as I should, on such a supposition, offer an injury likewise to that prudence in herself which I flatter myself is not the least of her amiable perfections. If I might have the honor of your countenance, sir, on this occasion, I would open myself and circumstances to you in that frank and honest manner, which should convince you of the sincerity of my affection for your daughter, and at the same time of the honorableness of my intentions. In the mean time, I will in general say, that I have been set up in business, in the linen drapery way, upwards of three years; that I have a very good trade for the time; and that I had a thousand dollars to begin with, which I have improved to fifteen hundred, as I am ready to make appear to your satisfaction; that I am descended of a creditable family, have done nothing to stain my character, and that my trade is still further improveable, as I shall, I hope, enlarge my capital. This, sir, I thought but honest and fair to acquaint you with, that you might know something of a person who sues to you for your countenance, and that of your good lady, in an aflair that I hope may one day prove the greatest happiness of my life, as it must be, if I can be blessed with that and your daughter's approbation. In hopes of which, and the favor of a line, I take the liberty to subscribe myself, good sir, Your obedient and humble servant.

LETTER 140.

From a Gentleman to a Lady whom he accuses of inconstancy. MADAM,

You will not, I presume, be surprised at a letter in the place of a visit from one who cannot but have reason to believe that it may find as ready a welcome as he would himself.

You should not supppose, if lovers have lost their sight, that their senses are all banished: and if I refuse to believe my eyes when they

show me your inconstancy, you must not wonder that I cannot stop my ears against the accounts of it. Pray let us understand one another properly; for I am afraid we are deceiving ourselves all this while.Am I a person whom you esteem, whose fortune you do not despise, and whose pretensions you encourage? Or am I a troublesome coxcomb, who fancy myself particularly received by a woman who only laughs at me? If I am the latter you treat me as I deserve, and I ought to join with you in saying I deserve it. But if it be otherwise, and you receive ine, as I think you do, as a person you intend to marry, for it is best to be plain on these occasions, pray tell me what is the occasion of that universal coquetry in public, where every fool flatters you, and you are pleased with the meanest of them? And what can be the meaning. of your showing so much attention to Mr. Marlow, which I am told you always do when I am not in company? Both of us, madam, you cannot think of; and I should be sorry to imagine, that when I had given you my heart so entirely, I shared yours with any other man.

I have said a great deal too much to you, and yet I am tempted to say more; but I shall be silent. I beg you will auswer this, and I think I have a right to expect that you will do it generously and fairly. Do not mistake what is the distraction of my heart, for want of respect towards you. While I am writing thus, I dote on you, but I cannot bear to be deceived where all my happiness is centred. Your most unhappy.

SIR,

LETTER 141.

The Lady's Answer.

Did I make all the allowance you desire in the end of your letter, I should not answer you at all. But although I am really unhappy to find you are so, and the more so to find myself to be the occasion, I can hardly impute the unkindness and incivility of your letter to the single cause you would have me. However, as I would not be suspected of any thing that should justify such treatment from you, I think it necessary to inform you that what you have heard has no more foundation than what you have seen; however, I wonder that others' eyes should not be as easily alarmed as yours; for instead of being blind, believe me, sir, you see more than there is to be seen. Perhaps, however, their sight is much sharpened by their unprovoked malice, as yours by undeserved suspicion.

Whatever may be the end of this dispute, for I do not think so lightly of lovers' quarrels as many do, I think it proper to inform you, that I never thought favorably of any one but yourself; and I shall add, that if the faults of your temper, which I once little suspected, should make me fear you too much to marry, you will not see me in that state with any other, nor courted by any in the world.

I did not know that the gaiety of my temper gave you uneasiness; and you ought to have told me of it with less severity. If I am particular in it, I am afraid it a fault in my natural disposition; but I would have taken some pains to have got the better of that, if I had known it was disagreeable to you. I ought to resent this treatment more than I do, but do not insult my weakness on that head; for a fault of that kind

would want the excuse this has for my pardon, and might not be easily overlooked, though I could wish to do it. I should say that I would not see you to-day, but you have an advocate that pleads for you much better than you do for yourself. I desire you will first carefully look over this letter, for my whole heart is in it, and then come to me.

LETTER 142.

Yours, &c.

From a Father to his Daughters, on Love and Friendship.

DEAR DAUGHTERS,

The luxury and dissipation which prevail in genteel life, as it corrupts the heart in many respects, so it renders it incapable of warm, sincere, and steady friendship. A happy choice of friends will be of the utmost consequence to you, as they may assist you with their advice and good offices. But the immediate gratification which is afforded to a warm, open and ingenuous heart, is of itself a sufficient motive to court it. In the choice of your friends, have your principal regard to goodness of heart and fidelity. If they also possess taste and genius, that will make them still more agreeable and useful companions. You have particular reason to place confidence in those who have shown affection for you in your early days, when you were incapable of making them any return. This is an obligation for which you cannot be too grateful. If you have the good fortune to meet with any who deserve the name of friends, unbosom yourself with the utmost confidence. It is one of the world maxims, never to trust any person with a secret the discovery of which could give any pain; but it is the maxim of a little mind and a cold heart, unless where it is the effect of frequent disappointments and bad usage. An open temper, if restrained but by tolerable prudence, wil. make you on the whole much happier than a reserved, suspicious one, although you may sometimes suffer by it. Coldness and distrust are the too certain consequences of age and experience; but they are unhappy and unpleasant feelings, and it is unnecessary to anticipate them before their time.

But however open you are in talking of your own affairs, never discover the secrets of one friend to another. These are sacred deposites, which do not belong to you, nor have you any right to make use of them

There is another case in which I suspect it is proper to be secret, not so much from motives of prudence as delicacy; I mean in love matters Though a woman has no reason to be ashamed of an attachment to a man of merit, yet nature, whose authority is superior to philosophy, has annexed a sense of shame to it. It is even long before a woman of delicacy dare avow to her own heart that she loves; and when all the subterfuges of ingenuity to conceal it from herself fail, she feels violence done both to her pride and to her modesty. This, I should imagine, must be always the case where she is not sure of a reciprocal attachment. In such a situation, to lay the heart open to any person whatever, does not appear to me consistent with the perfection of female delicacy. But perhaps I am in the wrong. At the same time I must tell you, that in point of prudence, it concerns you to attend well to the consequences such a discovery. These secrets, however important in your own esti

of

mation, may appear very trifling to your friend, who possibly will not enter into your feelings, but may rather consider them as a subject of pleasantry. For this reason love secrets are of all others the worst kept. But the consequences to you may be very serious, as no man of spirit and delicacy ever valued a heart hackneyed in the ways of love. If, therefore, you must have a friend to pour out your heart to, be sure of her honor and secrecy. Let her not he a married woman, especially if she lives happily with her husband. There are certain unguarded moments in which such a woman, though the best and worthiest of her sex, may let hints escape, which, at other times, or to any other person than her husband, she would be incapable of; nor will a husband, in this case, feel himself under the same obligations of secrecy and honor as if you had put your confidence originally in himself, especially on a subject which the world is apt to treat so lightly.

If all other circumstances are equal, there are obvious advantages in your making friends of your brothers and sisters. The ties of blood, and your being so much united in one common interest, form an addi. tional bond of union to your friendship. If your brothers should have the good fortune to have hearts susceptible of friendship, to possess truth, honor, sense, and delicacy of sentiment, they are the fittest and most unexceptionable confidants. By placing confidence in them you will receive every advantage which you could hope for from the friendship of men, without any of the inconveniencies that attend such connexions with our sex.

Beware of making confidants of your servants. Dignity, not properly understood, very readily degenerates into pride, which enters into no friendships because it cannot bear an equal; and is so fond of flattery as to grasp at it even from servants and dependants. The most intimate confidants, therefore, of proud people, are valet-de-chambres and waiting women. Show the utmost humanity to your servants; make their situation as comfortable to them as possible; but if you make them your confidants you spoil them, and debase yourselves.

Never allow any person, under the pretended sanction of friendship, to be so familiar as to lose a proper respect for you. Never allow them to teaze you on any subject that is disagreeable, or where you have once taken your resolution. Many will tell you that this is inconsistent with the freedom which friendship allows, but a certain respect is necessary in friendship as well as in love without it you may be liked as a child, but will never be loved as an equal. The temper and disposition of the heart, in your sex, make you enter more readily into friendships than men. Your natural propensity to it is so strong, that you often run into intimacies which you soon have sufficient cause to repent of; and this makes your friendships so very fluctuating.

Another great obstacle to the sincerity, as well as steadiness of your friendships, is the great clashing of your interests in the pursuits of love, ambition, or vanity. For these reasons it would appear at first sight more eligible for you to contract your friendships with the men. Among other obvious advantages of an easy intercourse between the two sexes, it occasions an emulation and exertion in each to excel and be agreeable hence their respective excellencies are mutually communicated and blended. As their interests in no degree interfere, there can be no