 with the consciousness of a sweet thief, who had stolen a heart, and being required to restore it, had been guilty of a new cheat, and given her own instead of it.
The son of Mr. Galliard, an eminent Turkey merchant, is the man with whom she has made this exchange. His father, who lives in the neighbourhood of her aunt, had sent him abroad, in the way of his traffick; partly with a view to prevent his marrying Miss Danby, till it should be seen whether her uncle would do any-thing considerable for her: And he was but just returned; and, in order to be allowed to stay at home, had promised his father never to marry without his consent: But nevertheless loved his sister, Mr. Danby said, above all women; and declared that he never would be the husband of any other.
I asked, whether the father had any objections, but those of fortune, to his son's choice; and was answered, No. He could have no other, the young man, like a brother, said: There was not a more virtuous and discreet young woman in the kingdom than his sister, tho' he said it, that should not say it.
Tho' you say it, that should say it. Is not our

relation intitled to the same justice that we would do to another?
We must not blame indiscriminately, continued I, all fathers who expect a fortune to be brought into their family, in some measure equivalent to the benefit the new-comer hopes to receive from it; especially in mercantile families, if the young man is to be admitted into a share with his father; who, by the way, may have other children—
He has—
Something by way of equivalent for the part he gives up, should be done. Love is a selfish Deity. He puts two persons upon preferring their own interests, nay, a gratification of their passion often against their interests, to those of every-body else; and reason, discretion, duty, are frequently given up in a competition with it. But Love, nevertheless, will not do every-thing for the ardent pair. Parents know this: And ought not to pay for the rashness they wish to prevent, but cannot.
They were attentive. I proceeded, addressing myself to both in the mercantile style.
Is a father, who by his prudence, has weathered many a storm, and got safe into port, obliged to reembark in the voyage of Life, with the young folks, who perhaps in
