ing music glides along the stream, and echoes through the flowery dale. In one of my rambles with my little mistress, I followed the course of a pretty cascade, which fell from an easy descent, and led me to a natu ral bower of trees, whose branches mingling at the top formed a lofty arch, and excluded the noon-day's sultry beams. I entered the silent retreat, with as much veneration as if it had been sacred to some invisible power. But how great was my surprise, when I saw the lovely youth reclined on a mossy bank, lost in downy sleep! The verdant couch was canopied over with ivy, twining with honey-suckles. Never did any thing human appear so beautiful! A blush, like the rosy morning, painted his face, while smiles of peace and conscious innocence seemed to bless the golden slumber. I gazed for a few moments with the same guiltless delight as an ethereal being would inspire, and then, softly withdrew. If he is, as you flatter me, some bright inhabitant of the air, the purity of my passion is very agreeable to a lover of that kind. It is a harmless lambent flame, that plays about my heart, and gives me no manner of uneasiness; it is such a sanctity of affection, as neither interrupts nor profanes my devotion; it has something more than the tenderness of friendship, and less than the warmth and violence of passion; and seems, like the dictates of guiltless nature, to soften the fatigues of my new station. These refinements, Lady Sophia, will, I fear, be a little incredible to you, who are dazzled with the lustre of a duke's coronet, and have placed your affections on mortal charms. your part of I am come now to the serious letter.-I know that religion is the governing principle of your actions; which makes me the more surprised, that you should persuade me to put myself to the hazard of a second trial. Are you sure that neither the flattery nor threatenings of my father will prevail with me to renounce the reformed religion, and perjure myself, by giving my vows to a man my soul detests? Do you think the sparks of vanity and ambition extinguished in my breast? that greatness and pleasure have no charms? or that the tender affection I have for my father will ever be effaced? Oh! Lady Sophia, if you knew the anguish it cost me, to break through these soft, these powerful engagements, you would not persuade me to quit this peaceful retreat, and put the event on another trial. Your care for me seems confined to this world, whatever becomes of me in the next. Could you meet me again shining in the drawing room, or sparkling in the ring, it would perhaps content you; though I never glittered among the stars, nor was admitted into the celestial assemblies. If I lost the music of the spheres, I suppose your heart would be at rest, could I once more hear the transporting sound of a title, and be restored to my lost dignity. And yet the possession of these privileges never put me in an ecstasy; nor can I help fancying, Rosalinda has as musical a sound as Lady Frances. I never found a spell in those Right Honourable syllables for an aching head or a heavy heart. My ladyship finds as great satisfaction in ranking a set of delft dishes on a free-stone chimney-piece, as ever I had in disposing my fine China on an Indian cabinet. A clean cambric cap, and an Holland gown, wrought with natural flowers, is the top of my finery; in which I like myself as well, and think I look as handsome, as when I was dressed in brocades and jewels for a birth night. Indeed, that happy occasion always gave an alacrity to my thoughts, and carried me through the glorious toil, with pleasure. But I have a mind as easy and innocent now, as when burdened with those costly ornaments: a red cross knot, a glass neck-lace, and flowers in my bosom, are the only useless parts of my dress; which is either the gift of nature, or honestly paid for; in which I am a thousand times more happy, than I should be in borrowed finery, at the expence of some industrious trader's ruin, and that of his whole family. You find, Lady Sophia, I am very well at ease, and enjoy a perfect tranquillity, in this humble station. was a principle truly rational and divine, that induced me to give up all the splendid distinctions of my birth, the ease and delicacy to which I had been accustomed, rather than basely deny those sacred truths, to which my soul religiously assented, and whose divine articles some of my glorious ancestors have sealed with their blood. Instead of looking back with regret on my past grandeur, the resignation gives me a taste of celestial joy; the songs of angels could not soothe me with softer harmony, than what results from the secret approbation of my own reason; and while all within is peace and serene, whether I am in a palace or cottage, my happi ness is secure. ROSALINDA. LETTER III. - To Lady Sophia, from the same. YOUR advice, dear Lady Sophia, is, without question, well meant; but I dare not follow it. My father is so far from relenting, that I have had intelligence since I came here, that he has sworn by all that is holy, unless I will marry Count Altamont, and embrace the Romish religion, he will settle his whole estate on some monastery at his decease. This was what I expected; and I am sure you will not persuade me to renounce heaven, and damn myself, for the sordid purchase of eighty thousand pounds; nor would you considerately advise me, to hazard a celestial advancement for a gilded coronet, or prefer the flattery of mistaken mortals to the approbation of angels. They have been witnesses of my pious vows; and, should I violate my faith, and turn apostate to heaven, those ministers of light would bring in their awful evidence, and stand my accusers at the last dreadful tribunal.And can you in earnest think it the effect of wisdom and just reflection, to dare the menaces of divine justice, ra ther than incur my father's unmerited resentment? Such 'I must term it, having found his affections entirely alien ated before I left him. There is full evidence he was pleased with my flight, and takes no thought of making any inquiry about it. But Heaven can witness with what reluctance I have torn myself from the sight of this unnatural parent; what anguish, what pangs of affection it cost me! This was the most difficult part of my conquest. The deli cacy and softness to which I had been inured, the eclat of birth and quality, reputation and esteem of my friends, I resigned with some degree of fortitude. But here na ture, with specious arguments, opposed, and had tri umphed in my perdition, unassisted by the sacred ora. cles. To them I applied in this perplexity; and received aid from the heavenly illumination. Here I found it by the eternal truth determined,-He that loves father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me. I worshipped, and obeyed the celestial dictates. This was no rash inconsiderate action, but the effect of reason and design. After having counted the cost, I found the odds to be infinite; the damage was momentary, the recompense unlimited and immense. "Tis finish'd now, the great deciding part; The world's subdu'd, and Heaven has all my heart. What can the world, what can the artifice of hell propose, to tempt me to relinquish my choice? What could they lay in the balance against the sovereign good? What could they offer as an equivalent to the favour of the infinite Divinity, whose smiles enlighten the realms of joy, and fill the celestial inhabitants with unutterable ecstasy Ask those happy spirits who know what the light of his countenance imports, what should buy one moment's interval of their bliss.- Ask some radiant cherub, amidst his flaming raptures, at what price he values his enjoyment. And when they have named the purchase, earth and hell may try to balance my glorious ex pectations. Pleasure would court in vain, and beauty smile. A thousand times blessed be that propitious Power who, from the plenitude of bliss, and the highest exaltation of glory, descended to low mortality; and, by his own great example and sufferings, animated my breast with this divine fortitude, and marked a way to victory and immortal honour. How sincerely I have followed the heavenly illumination, my witness is within, and my record on high. My father, I know, is inexorable, and has cut me off from his paternal care, and all the privileges of my birth; but while I look forward to the bright recompence prepared for suffering virtue, this loss sits lightly on my 'soul., But friendship, with a stronger force, detains me.Here my soul is in suspence.-Dear Lady Sophia, how shall I speak my last adieu? I feel the pangs of separation; an anguish beyond all the emphasis of human learning to utter.-Adieu! We must meet no more till the course of nature is dissolved, and the sun has measured his radiant circle round the skies. ROSALINDA [See the Sequel of her Story in Letter 1. Part III.] LETTER IMA To Laurinda, Join with me, dear Laurinda, in thanking Heaven, that I am once more returned to the mansion-seat of my forefathers; for, had I staid much longer in Lon |