 this frigid censure. "The ideas, the associations, the circumstances of each man are properly his own, and it is a pernicious system, that would lead us to require all men, however different their circumstances, to act in many of the common affairs of life, by a precise, general rule."10 The genuine effusions of the heart and mind are easily distinguished, by the penetrating eye, from the vain ostentation of sentiment, lip deep, which, causing no emotion, communicates none—Oh! how unlike the energetic sympathies of truth and feeling—darting from mind to mind, enlightening, warming, with electrical rapidity!

'My ideas have undergone, in the last three months, many fluctuations. My affection for you (why should I seek for vague, inexpressive phrases?) has not ceased, has not diminished, but it has, in some measure, changed its nature. It was originally generated by the report, and cemented by the knowledge, of your virtues and talents; and to virtue and talents my mind had ever paid unfeigned, enthusiastic, homage! It is somewhere said by Rousseau—"That there may exist such a suitability of moral, mental, and personal, qualifications, as should point out the propriety of an union between a prince and the daughter of an executioner." Vain girl that I was! I flattered myself that between us this sympathy really existed. I dwelt on the union between mind and mind—sentiments of nature gently insinuated themselves—my sensibility grew more tender, more affecting—and my imagination, ever lively, traced the glowing picture, and dipped the pencil in rainbow tints! Possessing one of those determined spirits, that is not easily induced to relinquish its purposes—while I conceived that I had only your pride, or your insensibility, to combat, I wildly determined to persevere.—A further recapitulation would, perhaps, be unnecessary:—my situation, alas! is now changed.

'Having then examined my heart, attentively and deliberately, I suspect that I have been unjust to myself, in supposing it incapable of a disinterested attachment.—Why am I to deprive you of a faithful friend, and myself of all the benefits I may yet derive from your conversation and kind offices? I ask, why? And I should, indeed, have cause to blush, if, after having had time for reflection, I could really think this necessary. Shall I, then, sign the unjust decree, that women are incapable of energy and fortitude? Have I exercised my understanding, without ever intending to apply my principles to practice? Do I mean always to deplore the prejudices which have
