 love be mutual found,
What num'rous obstacles arise,
What great, what various ills abound,
To check the ardent, tender ties.
In vain I wish for lost repose,
In vain would absence bring relief:
Still love within my bosom glows,
And death alone can calm my grief.
I MUST confess the discovery gave me pleasure; but I thought it best to make no alteration in my conduct towards him. Little did I then think my regard for him was capable of occasioning

so much uneasiness in my bosom. But his farewel, when he went into the country for the recovery of his health, was attended with a look, in which despair and resignation were so blended, that I was quite melted, and was obliged to retire to conceal my tears.
ALAS! exclaimed I, it is true that I love him, and that he is unhappy! Perhaps his fatal passion may prove the bane of all his hopes. Perhaps the struggle between love and gratitude, in a mind so truly susceptible of every noble feeling, may overcome him, and he may pine under the hated load of life. But why perhaps? the work is already begun. Already his health and spirits are fled; and he wanders in vain, in search of peace.

OPPRESSED with thoughts like these, and convinced by absence how much I love him, I find it impossible to conceal the alteration in my disposition. I continue whole days in my chamber, and avoid company, under pretence of illness. My brother, I believe, suspects the real cause; for he found me the other morning in tears at my harpsichord, singing the little song I have sent you. I made some silly excuse, which, out of good-nature, he accepted of without further enquiry.
BUT the most afflicting circumstance is, that my father is in treaty with a gentleman in the country, to conclude a marriage between me and his son, who is now in town expressly on that business. If I did not feel myself too much prejudiced in favour of Mr. Alwyn ever to love another, I am sure he

is very far from being the person I would pass my life with. I do not believe it possible for him to be serious. He is for ever on some whim or project, as if he valued himself only in proportion to his capacity for promoting mischief; and his want of delicacy is insufferable, when I call to mind the tender and respectful attentions of poor Mr. Alwyn.
THINK, my dear Julia, on my situaation. I am sure you'll pity
