what it is to be one moment idle.
Dr. Bartlett tells me, that some gentlemen of prime consideration in the county, have been offering my brother their interest against the next election. He modestly acknowleged the grateful sense he had of the honour done him; but declined it for the pre+sent, as having been too little a while returned into his own country, after so long an absence, to be as yet fit for a trust so important. We young men, said he, are apt to be warm: When we have not studied a point throughly, we act upon hasty conclusions, and sometimes support, sometimes oppose, on insufficient grounds. I would not be under Engagements to any party: Neither can I think of contributing to destroy the morals and health of all the country people round me, to make myself what is called an Interest. Forgive me, gentlemen: I mean not to slight your favours: But on such an occasion, I ought to be explicit.
But, after the gentlemen were gone. There is a county, Dr. Bartlett, said he, of which I should be ambitious to be one of the representatives, had I a natural interest in it; because of the reverence I bear to the good man, to whom in that case I should have the honour to call myself a collegue. When I can think myself more worthy than at present I am, of standing in such a civil relation to him, I shall consider him, as another Gamaliel, at whose feet (so

long absent as I have been from my native country) I shall be proud to be initiated into the service of the public.
It is not difficult to guess, who my brother—But my Marmouset is squalling for me; and I must fly to silence it.
Now, Lucy, that I have pacified my Brat, do I wish you with me at my window. My Brother and his Harriet only, at this instant walking almost under it, engaged in earnest conversation: Seemingly, how pleasing a one! admiration and tenderness mingled in his looks: In her, while he speaks, the most delighted attention: When she answers, love, affiance, modest deference, benevolence, compassion; an expression that no pen can describe—Knowing them both so well, and acquainted with their usual behaviour to each other, I can make it all out. She is pleading, I am sure, for Clementina. Charming pleader!—Yet, my dear Mrs. Shirley, I fear her reasonings are romantic ones. Our Harriet, you know, was always a little tinctured with