duced my paternal relation to place me under the protection of the reverend Mr. F, first his exalted character, and superior abilities; and secondly, the contiguity of his residence to an esate which my reverend protector had purchased.

That Mrs. Melville was not only a worldly, but an artful character my readers will have discovered by the method she adopted to exchange the name of S; and had she not found her husband's dislike to a residence in London unconquerable, she would not have yielded to his proposal of purchasing Belmont Lodge; but finding him divided between that, and a more magnificent seat in Norfolk, she unhesitatingly gave preference to Belmont Lodge.

The honorable Mrs. S was one of those fashionable female beauties, over whom, aye, under - certain restrictions has no power; or in other words, art, so completely imitated youthfulness, that it was impossible to form an accurate opinion of her years. She was sacrificed by the ambition of her parents to her honorable husband, at the age of fifteen ;' to make use of her own words; though many of her friends who have more tenacious memories, declared she might have added ten to the perod in which her virgin charms were offered upon the altar of Hymen.

Mrs. S, was according to her own account, eight and twenty, when fortune, tired of persecuting so lovely and amiable an object, threw into her lap a golden harvest; or in other terms united her destiny with that of a very rich man. She was at that period, the mother of five children; and eviVOL. XLI.

dently young enough to have five more; for her eldest boy who was at Eton, had only just completed his eleventh year. When first placed under the protection of Mr. F-I was always sent for home, every Saturday night, and remained until the Monday morning, when the groom attended me back to school.

Though I perceived not the slightest abatement in my supposed father's affection, I could not help feeling it in that of his wife, whose delicate state of nerves rendered the society of a child insupportable; and her husband too readily yielded to her folly of caprice; instead therefore of be ing summoned to the arms of a ford parent weekly, three or four often elapsed without beholding his beloved face, unless he rode over to see me, a habit which was even discontinued by degrees.

As this dear relation had introduced me at Bath as his own offspring, the Honorable Mrs. S naturally concluded me to be such; and from some cause, for which I have not the power of accounting, my uncle before his marriage never thought proper to reveal my birth, and, in all probability, never would have done so, had he not considered concealment might prove injurious to his own offspring.

The delicate state of Mrs. Melville's nerves was occasioned by one of those circumstances which naturally attend the marriage state; and the moment my uncle was convinced a prior claim might be laid to his fortune, he began to view concealment as a crime. Still he resolved to delay imparting the real relationship which subsisted between us until after C

the arrival of the expected young stranger, but as, in due course of time, he made his appearance, my reputed father determined to announce me as his nephew, instead of heir.

Impressions made during childhood are evidently more indelible than those at any other period, and never to be forgotten is that which was made upon my mind, when being summoned from school to see my new brother, as I had considered him, my uncle informed I was merely his adopted child. Mrs. Melville had at that period lain in about a fortnight, when with all due formality I was ushered into the room, having first received orders from her attendant to tread on tip-toe. Tip-toe I eertainly was with-impatience, yet unhesitatingly obeyed the nurse's commands, and to my astonishment found my mother seated inan easy-chair. She received me with a gracious smile, embraced me with affection (yet far different to the embraces she had been accustomed to bestow at Bath), and turning to her attendant, said, I dare say Henry wishes to see his little brother will you promise to love him, Henry, and be kind to him when he is old enough to go to school?'

:

Love him, and be kind to him, mamma,' I exclaimed with eagerness, why, I am very kind to Edmund Burke! he is quite a little fellow to me, and surely I should be kind to my own bro

ther.'

My father, who had remained a silent, spectator, seeing me embrace the little innocent with unaffected joy, said, in a voice evidently agitated, Brothers in affection, my dear Henry, I trust,

you both will be, though you are not so by the ties of blood. That dear boy,' continued my uncle, pointing to me, is the adopted child of my affection; his father, the bravest of British officers, bequeathed him to me with his dying breath; from that father he inherits a noble, nay, a princely fortune, and all he requires from me is tenderness and affection.'

My uncle's voice faltered as he closed the sentence, and pressing me to his bosom with truly parental tenderness, desired me still to address him by the name of father, adding, that he should never have revealed the real connexion between us, but for the birth of his child.

Never shall I forget the petrifying glance Mrs. Melville cast upon that dear relation when he made that declaration, accompanied by remarks equally cutting, for a want of confidence; concluding by saying, she trusted he would not compel her to act with any further deception, or expect she would permit his nephew to accost her by the appellation of mother!

There was something too satirically pointed in the tone of Mrs. Melville's voice to escape the observation even of a child, and bursting into a flood of tears, I eagerly demanded whether no one would let me call them mother?'

Yes, my beloved boy, and father too,' replied my uncle; for you shall never feel the want of those dear relations. Your inother was my sister, and your father, your exalted father, the noblest, the most honorable of men! he bequeathed you to me as a precious deposit, which I will cherish

with parental fondness whilst life circulates through these veins.'

My uncle then simply related my history, which it would be tautology to repeat; and the unexpected joy my aunt felt at discovering her own offspring was undisputed heir to her husband's immense riches, prevented her from making any further remarks upon his concealment of my birth; and Mrs. Johnson, the female attendant, who had been the protectress of my infancy, but who had been raised to the dignity of housekeeper, was called up to corroborate her master's testimony; as my uncle had referred Mrs. Melville to that faithful domestic for any further intelligence she might require.

Previous to Mrs. Melville's confinement, my uncle had repeatedly complained of spasms in his stomach and side; but fancying his constitution perfectly re-established by the efficacy of the Bath waters, had not paid proper attention to those alarming symptoms of internal disease. On the morning of the day that I was summoped from Mr. Fl's, he had again felt attacks of the spasmo-, die kind; and scarcely had he quitted Mrs. Melville's chamber, after making the extraordinary discovery of my real relationship, when his bell rung with an unusual degree of violence; and, when the servant attended the summons, he found his master writhing under absolute tortures.

Cordials were instantly administered, and medical advice summoned; but, alas! all human `skill proved vain. The agony increased with so much rapidity, that reason was unable to retain her seat mental derangement was the consequence; and in that

dreadful situation this valuable friend and benefactor languished two days and then expired, universally regretted by those who were acquainted with the intrinsic worth of his mind.

Death is at every period awful! yet the impression of it made during childhood is scarcely ever ef faced and I have as perfect a recollection of the sensations I experienced at that awful moment as if it had occurred within the last ten days. It was only in the society of the worthy Mrs. Johnson that I found the slightest solace for my affliction; all the inferior servants no longer treated me as their young lord and master; for Mrs. Melville, in spite of ber violent grief, had contrived separately to inform each individual that I was their deceased master's nephew, not his heir; and as those kind of people change their manners with as much ease as their apparel, they took the hint exactly as it was intended they should. Mrs. Johnson, however, was of a different cast of character to the generality of persons in her situation; she was the faithful creature who had attended my mother to the camp at the decease of my father, and from, that period had reinained in the service of my uncle, had accompanied him to Bath, witnessed all the Honorable Mrs. S's plans to entrap him, and perfectly understood her character. Fortunately for me, that excellent woman was incorruptible; no bribe, however alluring, could induce her to deviate from the path of rectitude; she was, in fact, not to be purchased! and she would neither connive at, or permit any corrup tive measures. She was certainly of all human beings the last Mrs.