 had never taken the least notice of me, during her life, had bequeathed me her whole fortune, ten thousand pounds; merely because I was her namesake, and unprovided for by my father. This was a very happy addition to my confined circumstances; but I was incapable of joy, and continued to live like a recluse, till

lord Woodville's return to England.—He soon found me out, and did me the honour to present me to lady Straffon, and his lovely Emily.
IN this charming society, I began to recover my tranquility, and flattered myself that it was well nigh established, till the unlucky accident, which brought captain Barnard to my sight, convinced me, that there is no cure for ill-fated love; since neither the cruelty I have experienced, nor time itself, have yet been able to conquer it.
I WILL not now, my dear lady Woodville, take up more of your time, by apologizing for the weakness of my conduct through this unhappy affair; for
" With thee, I scorn the low constraint of art,
" And boast the graceful weakness of my heart."




I HAVE a thousand thanks to give my dear Emily, for the pleasing though melancholy entertainment, which lady Harriet's history has afforded me.—When I was very young, I used to be surprized that so many tragedies and novels were founded on the perfidy of men: but I have for some years past, been perfectly convinced, that most of the miseries in this life, owe their being to that fatal source. And were there but a window in every fair bosom in the cities of London and Westminster, we should discover numberless hidden traces of the barbarous triumphs, of those doughty
"Heroes, famous and

renowned for wronging innocence, and breaking vows:"
and among this detestable corps, I think captain Barnard might lead the van, and Sir James Miller bring up the rear.

YOU may see, by this disposition, that I think worse of the captain than the baronet, as I think lady Harriet much more unhappy than Lucy. However, I sincerely hope they may both surmount their afflictions: for time and reason can do more, in these cases, than the sufferers are willing to allow. They are patients that do not wish to be cured; and find a degree of pleasure in indulging their malady.
I AM of opinion, that when disappointed love subsides into a calm and gentle melancholy, its sensations may not only be pleasing to the persons that feel it, but render them more amiable than they would otherwise be, by giving
