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This young man was of a different character from either of his brothers, and superior to both. He possessed the elevated understanding, and the fine taste, for which his elder brother was conspicuous; and he had also that love of distinction which belongs to a man of parts and spirit; but his ambition was of that nobler kind, which pursues its ends fairly, openly, and honourably. Equally incapable of the deep-laid plots of one brother, and the little artifices of the other, Mr. Frederick Seymour disdained to tread in the serpentine paths of duplicity

and cunning; and his character was strongly marked by an impatience of every thing mean, selfish, or sordid.—His early intercourse with the world had not chilled that enthusiasm which is awake to every generous impression, and that warmth of feeling which long continues to animate an ardent mind, and which, in some, the disappointment of their dearest hopes, the experience of the coldness and selfishness of mankind, and even the chilling hand of age itself, have no power to repress. The noble principles which actuated Seymour's mind, gave it additional force and vigour. It will ever be found that great talents derive new energy from the virtue of the character; as when the sun-beam plays upon gems, it calls forth all their scattered radiance. Mr. Frederick Seymour's person was tall and elegant; his eyes were dark, and his countenance was strongly expressive of intelligence and sensibility. His conversation was highly agreeable, and his manners were infinitely

engaging; and his good understanding had taught him to connect the polish of fashion, with plainness and simplicity. He had acquired ease without negligence, and frankness without familiarity. Perfect good-breeding undoubtedly requires the foundation of good sense; as the oak, which is the most solid and valuable, is also the most graceful tree of the forest.
Charlotte was constantly in Mr. Seymour's society, and she soon felt its powers of fascination. In the mornings they rode out in little parties, amidst scenes the most lovely and romantic. They often visited the fountain of Vaucluse, and Mr. Seymour still appeared to find inspiration in its waters. He composed sonnets, which Charlotte read with pleasure; he pointed out the beauties of the scenes they visited, or traced them with his pencil; and Charlotte gazed on them with delight. He perceived her prepossession in his favour, and was solicitous to improve

her partiality. The sweetness and vivacity of her disposition, the simplicity of her manners, and the purity of her heart, formed a contrast to the vanity
