and motives of religion, had perhaps hindered her from declaring to all the world.

He asked her, if she were willing to leave her father, mother, brothers, and country, to go to a strange land; to live among a hated people?

No, she said; you would not wish her to go out of Italy. You would live nine months out of twelve in Italy.

He told her, that she must, when married, do as her husband would have her.

She could trust to your honour.

Would she consent that her children should be trained up heretics?

She was silent to this question. He repeated it.

Well, my lord, if I must not be allowed to choose for myself; only let me not hear the chevalier spoken of disrespectfully: he does not deserve it. He has acted by me with as much honour, as he did by my brother. He is an uniformly good man, and as generous as good-And don't let me have other proposals made me; and I will be contented. I had never so much distinguished him, if every body had not as well as I.

He was pleased to find her answers so rational: he pronounced her quite well; and gave it as his opinion, that you should be desired to quit Bologna. And your absence, and a little time, he was sure, would secure her health of mind.

But when her aunt Sforza and her cousin Laurana talked with her next morning, they found her, on putting questions about you, absolutely determined in your favour.

She answered the objections they made against you with equal warmth and clearness. She seemed sensible of the unhappy way she had been in, and would have it, that the

last interview she had with you had helped to calm and restore her and she hoped that she should be better every day. She praised your behaviour to her: she expatiated upon, and pitied, your distress of mind.

They let her run on till they too had obtained from her a confirmation of all that the bishop had reported; and, upon repeating the conversation, would have it, upon experience, that soothing such a passion was not the way to be taken; but that a high hand was to be used, and that she was to be shamed out of a love so improper, so irreligious, so scandalous, to be encouraged in a daughter of their house with a heretic; and who had shewn himself to be a determined one.

They accordingly entered upon their new measures. They forbade her to think of you: they told her, that she should not upon any terms be yours; not now, even if you would change your religion for her. They depreciated your family, your fortune, and even your understanding; and brought to prove what they said against the latter, your obstinate adherence to your mushroom religion, so they called it; a religion that was founded in the wickedness of your eighth Henry; in the superstition of a child his successor; and in the arts of a vile woman, who had martyred a sister queen, a better woman than herself. They insisted upon her encouraging the Count of Belvedere's addresses, as a mark of her obedience.

They condemned, in terms wounding to her modesty, her passion for a foreigner, an enemy to her faith; and on her earnest request to see her father, he was prevailed upon to refuse her that favour.

Lady Juliana Sforza, and her daughter Laurana, the companion of her better hours, never see her, but they inveigh against you as an artful, an interested man.

Her uncle treats her with authority; Signor Sebastiano with a pity bordering on contempt.

My mother shuns her; and indeed avoids me: But as she has been blamed for permitting the interview, which they suppose the wrongest step that could have been taken, she declares herself neutral, and resigns to whatever shall be done by her lord, by his brother, her two sons, and Lady Juliana de Sforza: but I am sure, in her heart, that she approves not of the new measures; and which are also, as I have reminded the bishop, so contrary to the advice of the worthy Mrs. Beaumont; to whom they begin to think of once more sending my sister, or of prevailing on her to come hither: but Clementina seems not to be desirous of going again to her; we know not why; since she used to speak of her with the highest respect.

The dear soul rushed in to me yesterday. Ah, my Jeronymo! said she, they will drive me into despair. They hate me, Jeronymo-But I have written to somebody!— Hush! for your life, hush!

She was immediately followed in by her aunt Sforza, and her cousin Laurana, and the general; who, though he heard not what she said, insisted on her returning to her own apartment.

What! said she, must I not speak to Jeronymo? Ah, Jeronymo !-I had a great deal to say to you!

I raved; but they hurried her out, and have forbid her to visit me they, however, have had the civility to desire my excuse. They are sure, they say, they are in the right way and if I will have patience with them for a week, they will change their measures, if they find these new ones ineffectual. But my sister will be lost, irrecoverably lost; I foresee that.

Ah, Grandison! And can you still-but now they will

not accept of your change of religion. Poor Clementina! Unhappy Jeronymo! Unhappy Grandison! I will say. If you are not so, you cannot deserve the affection of a Clementina.

But are you the somebody to whom she has written? Has she written to you? Perhaps you will find some opportunity to-morrow to let me know whether she has, or Camilla is forbidden to stir out of the house, or to

not.

write.

The general told me, just now, that my gratitude to you shewed neither more nor less, than the high value I put upon my own life.

I answered; That his observation convinced me, that he put a much less upon mine, than I, in the same case, should have put upon his.

He reconciled himself to me by an endearment. He embraced me. Don't say convinced, Jeronymo. I love not myself better than I love my Jeronymo.

What can one do with such a man?

He does love me. My mother, as I said, is resolved to be neutral: but, it seems, she is always in tears.

My mother stept in just now. To my question after my sister's health; Ah, Jeronymo! said she, all is wrong! the dear creature has been bad ever since yesterday. They are all wrong!-But patience and silence, child! You and I have nothing to answer for.-Yet my Clementina, said she-Oh!-and left me.

I have no heart to write on. You will see, from the above, the way we are in. O, my Grandison! what will you do among us? I wish you would not come.

Yet

what hope, if you do not, shall I ever have of seeing again my beloved friend, who has behaved so unexceptionably in a case so critical?

You must not think of the dear creature: her head is ruined for your own sake, you must not. We are all unworthy of you: yet, not all: all, however, but Clementina, and (if true friendship will justify my claim to another exception)

Your afflicted

JERONYMO.

LETTER XXIX.

MISS BYRON, TO MISS SELBY.

O MY Lucy! What think you!-But it is easy to guess what you must think. I will, without saying one word more, enclose

DR. BARTLETT'S TENTH letter.

THE next day (proceeds my patron) I went to make my visit to the family. I had nothing to reproach myself with; and therefore had no other concern upon me but what arose from the unhappiness of the noble Clementina: that indeed was enough. I thought I should have some diffi culty to manage my own spirit, if I were to find myself insulted, especially by the general. Soldiers are so apt to value themselves on their knowledge of what, after all, one may call but their trade, that a private gentleman is often