obeyed, without the least suspicion what was the mo tive of her command.

I had hitherto looked on every mortal man with equality and indifference; nor found any thing to answer the description of poetical heroes, and dramatic beaux ; but the moment I saw my Lord, every grace, every charm appeared real, which before had pleased my ima gination in agreeable fictions. The enchanting form, the fatal glance, the resistless smile, the gentle, prevail ing accent, love with his whole artillery seemed to insult me, and never more entirely subdued a mind so artless and unexperienced, However, to conceal my disorder, I withdrew as soon as the company would permit.

But how transformed was my soul from that guiltless calm I had till now enjoyed! The equality of temper was broken. My thoughts had all a different turn, I went to church indeed; but said my prayers as mechanically as the clock strikes. I joined in singing the psalms; but with no more understanding than the chimes repeat a tune to which they are set. Not only the next world, but this was effaced from my memory. There were no flowers in the field, nor stars in the sky. My whole attention was fixed on the lovely youth; his idea was still in view; or if any other object interrupted the pleasing reverie, it was only to give me vexation. I was angry with every mortal for not looking so handsome, nor talking so agreeably, as the charming man I admired.

I was some tedious days in suspence, whether my Lord had one favourable thought of me: but my doubts were agreeably satisfied, when I found he had desired my Lady Worthy to procure my father's consent, in order to make his addresses to me. My father embraced the offer, with a just sense of the honour that was donė him.

For my part, I had never practised any disguise; and was unacquainted with all forms but such as were the dictates of nature and virtue: nor was it possible for me to conceal the tender inclination; it was as visible in my silence, as the most pathetic words could have made

Y

it. After I knew my Lord's character, and was convinced of his affection for me, I had a sort of vanity in owning a sense of his merit. This, I thought, justified the height of my passion: nor could I find any reason to violate my native sincerity, and affect indifference, where it would have been a crime to have been really insensible.

My noble lover expressed some impatience to conclude the affair; which was done with great secrecy and expedition. He suffered but one servant to attend him; and was so obliging, as stay a month after our marriage in my father's family. The scenes of low-life were a diverting novelty to him; while love and innocence made the hours glide smoothly on. This period was all pastoral and romantic. The golden age seemed to be renewed with Ovid's Oenone. I could have wished the noble youth divested of his hereditary honours; possessed only of a snowy flock, and graced with no distinction, but that of the lovely swain

Then unmolested we had liv'd, and free

From those vexatious forms which greatness brings;
While rocks and meadows, shades and purling springs,
The flow'ry valley, and the gloomy grove,

Had heard of no superior name to love.

However, I did not yet know the toils of grandeur ; nor feel the effects of my splendid vassalage. I lived my own way, dressed and undressed myself. My mother since the advance of my fortune, had kept me in fine lace caps, and clean silk night-gowns; and, as I had plenty of flaxen hair falling into natural curls, my dress was easily adjusted, and seemed to please my Lord exceedingly. The little waiting-on I had was by Cicely, my mother's head-servant. I had no notion of the grande monde, nor the part I was to act in it..

I had never seen London. The Mall, Hyde-park, the. Drawing-room, and Theatre, were less known to me than the planetary worlds.

In this state of nature, of darkness, and original simplicity, imagine to yourself what must be my perplexity, when my Lord carried me with him to make my first appearance in town, among the congratulations of his

numerous friends! I found myself among a rank of people, to whose language, habits, and manners, I was as much a stranger, as if I had been in a foreign country,

a

My Lord had desired a sister, who lived with him, to procure every thing proper for me to appear with: and she spared no cost in jewels, or whatever else vanity -could wish. She had been solicitous in her choice of woman and chambermaid for me; and they were really two of the finest people I had ever seen in my life. My woman, being much older than myself, I looked on as my superior; and could hardly forbear making an apology for the trouble I gave her. I spoke to her in very gentle and submissive terms; nor was it possible for me to get rid of the secret veneration, which the gravity of her countenance gave me. However, my lively temper was apt to make some gay excursions. When I was at first initiated in the mysteries of dress, I was not quite so serious as she seemed to think the importance of the affair required.

While my head was dressing, I was merely passive, as long as Mrs Dupin suffered me to sit reading. I left the ball on my shoulders to be adorned as she thought fit; which, after two hours' toil, I sometimes found swelled to such an enormous size, with flowers, feathers, and bits of ribband, that I could not help begging her to reduce it to a dimension more agreeable to my shape; which, being slender, did not require a globe of that magnitude to adorn it.

But I was generally more inclined to cry than laugh on this occasion. The hours thus spent were an insupportable fatigue to me: nor could I answer to my conscience for such a vain expence of time My being had a superior end; I was formed for immortality; which grand concern forbid me spending more hours at the toilet than in my devotions. I had been taught these antiquated maxims; and however ridiculous they might appear in the gay moments of health, the approaches of death, I knew, would set them in their full force, and unquestioned evidence.

However, I had no design in dressing but to please

my Lord. It was only with regard to him, I was concerned for the figure I made in public. The flattery I heard on my beauty, gave me more confusion than joy: nor could I account for the design of those addresses.

I very innocently told a beau that followed me, that I was married; at which he burst into a loud laugh. It was some surprise to me, to find him so gay, at the discovery of what, I thought, would have sunk him into despair. I could not but wonder, that the man who had just before been languishing and dying, should be so overjoyed to find his pretensions lost, and his case hopeless; for I really thought he made love with an honest intention to marry me, only he had mistaken my circumstances.

My next lover was the most intimate friend my Lord had. The fine things he said I took for raillery. Indeed it appeared ill jesting with such sacred things as friendship, and the honour of a family. However, I concealed his extravagance; and treated him with a coldness so real and unaffected, that he soon recovered himself.

But you may easily imagine what a sound these gallant proposals must have to one so unacquainted with the modish world; and who had never heard those vices named but with terms of infamy and reproach.

After this account of myself, you will not wonder to find me so little at ease in the high station to which I am raised. With what regret do I look back to the inglorious shades, the humble scenes of my past tranquillity! I was a stranger to ambition; but love seduced me from those peaceful retreats, where my first happy days were spent. It is only my affection for my Lord, that helps me to support this illustrious bondage, this splendid misery. But, as sincerely as I love him, I cannot without a sigh recal the harmless freedom, the unmolested innocence, in which the earliest part of my life was past; and am surprised to find myself the object of most people's envy, while, in reality, I merit their compassion. I am, without ceremony,

Madam,

Yours, &c.

LETTER IX.

To Mr A

I HAVE been contemplating on the period of all human glory, among the tombs in Westminster Abbey.Here the most towering ambition finds its limits insulting Death has fixed the bounds, and pronounced the imperial mandate, Hitherto shalt thou go, and no farther; and, Here shall thy proud waves be stayed. The wildest boasts of mortal vanity yield to the dreadful conqueror; the glory of nature, with all the accomplishments of art, are humbled together in the dust.

Here, in one horrid ruin, lies,

The great, the fair, the young, the wise;
Th' ambitious king, whose boundless mind
Scarce to a world could be confin'd,
Now, content with narrower room,
Lies crowded in this marble tomb;
Death triumphs o'er the boasted state,
The vain distinctions of the great;
Here, in one common heap, they lie,
And, eloquent in silence, cry,
AMBITION IS BUT VANITY!

And see, this sculptur'd tomb contains
Of beauty the abhorr'd remains;

That face which none unmov'd could view,
Has lost th' enchanting rosy hue;
Those once resist less sparkling eyes
No more can heedless hearts surprise;
That form which ev'ry charm could boast,
In loathsome rottenness is lost.

See there the youth whose cheerful bloom
Promis'd a train of years to come;
Whose soft address and graceful air,
Had scarce obtain'd the yielding fair,
When Fate derides th' expected joys,
And all his flatt'ring hope destroys.

There sleep the bards, whose lofty lays
Have crown'd their names with lasting praise a
Who, though eternity they give,

While heroes in their numbers live;
Yet these resign their tuneful breath,
And wit must yield to mightier death.
Eyen I, the lowest of the throng,
Unskill'd in verse or artful song,

}