sense to judge of their own imperfections; and if the gentleman be not such a one as mine (and where will such another be found?)-on all these accounts, I say, they will be made sensible that, whatever they might once think, happiness and a high estate are two very different things.

But I shall be too grave, when your ladyship and all my kind and noble friends expect, perhaps, I should give the uncommon subject a pleasanter air: Yet what must that mind be, that is not serious, when it is obliged to recollect, and give account of its defects?

But I must not only accuse myself, it seems, I must give proofs, such as your ladyship can subscribe to, of my imperfections. There is so much real kindness in this seeming hardship, that I will obey you, madam, and produce proofs in a moment, which cannot be controverted.

As to my sauciness, those papers will give a hundred instances against me as well to your dear brother, as to others. Indeed, to extenuate, as you command me, as I go along, these were mostly when I was apprehensive for my honour; that they were.

And then, my dear lady, I have a little tincture of jealousy, which sometimes has made me more uneasy than I ought to be, as the papers you have not seen would have demonstrated, particularly in Miss Godfrey's case,* and in my conversation with your ladyships, in which I have frequently betrayed my apprehensions of what might happen when we came to London: yet, to extenuate again, I have examined myself very strictly on this head; and I really think, that I can ascribe a great part of this jealousy to laudable motives; no less than to the concern I have for your dear brother's future happiness, in the hope that I may be a humble means, in the hands of Providence, to induce him to abhor those crimes of which young gentlemen too often are guilty, and to bring him over to the practice of those virtues in which he will for ever have cause to rejoice.-Yet, my lady, some other parts of the

* See vol. ii. p. 102, &c.

charge must stand against me; for, as, to be sure, I love his person as well as his mind, I have pride in my jealousy, that would not permit me, I verily think, to support myself as I ought, under the trial of a competition, in this tender, very tender point.

And this obliges me to own that I have a little sparknot a little one perhaps-of secret pride and vanity, that will arise now and then, on the honours done me; but which I keep under as much as I can: And to this pride, let me tell your ladyship, I know no one contributes, or can contribute, more largely than yourself.

So you see, my dear lady, what a naughty heart I have, and how far I am from being a faultless creature-I hope I shall be better and better, however, as I live longer, and have more grace, and more wit: For here, to recapitulate my faults, is, in the first place, vindictiveness; I will not call it downright revenge; that I will not-For, as the poet

says

Revenge is but a frailty, incident

To crazed and sickly minds; the poor content

Of little souls, unable to surmount

An injury, too weak to bear affront.

And I would not be thought to have a little mind, because I know I would not do a little thing. Vindictiveness, then, let it stand, though that's a harsh word to accuse one's self of-jealousy-secret pride-vanity-which I cannot, for my life, keep totally under-oh, dear madam! are not here faults enow, without naming any more?—And how much room do all these leave for amendment and greater perfection!

Had your lordship, and my lady countess, favoured us longer, in your late kind visit, it had been impossible but I must have so improved, by your charming conversations, and by that natural ease and dignity which accompany everything your ladyships do and say, as to have got over such of these foibles as are not rooted in nature: till in time I had been able to do more than emulate those per

fections which, at present, I can only at an awful distance

revere; as becomes,

My dear ladies,

Your most humble admirer, and obliged servant,

P. B--.

LETTER LII.

Miss Darnford to her Father and Mother.

MY EVER-HONOURED PAPA AND MAMMA,-I arrived safely in London on Thursday, after a tolerable journey, considering Deb and I made six in the coach (two having been taken up on the way, after you left me), and none of the six highly agreeable. Mr. B- and his lady, who looks very stately upon us (from the circumstance of person, rather than of mind, however), were so good as to meet me at St. Alban's, in their coach and six. They have a fine house here, richly furnished in every part, and have allotted me the best apartment in it.

We are happy beyond expression! Mr. B-- is a charming husband; so easy, so pleased with, and so tender of, his lady; and she so much all that we saw her in the country, as to humility and affability, and improved in everything else, which we hardly thought possible she could be—that I never knew so happy a matrimony.-All that prerogative sauciness, which we apprehended would so eminently display itself in his behaviour to his wife, had she been ever so distinguished by birth and fortune, is vanished, and no traces of it seem to be left. I did not think it was in the power of an angel, if our sex could have produced one, to have made so tender and so fond a husband of Mr. B

as he makes. And should I have the sense to follow Mrs. B――'s example, if ever I marry, I should not despair of making myself happy, let it be to whom it would, provided he was not a brute, nor sordid in his temper; which two

VOL. III.

F

characters are too obvious to be concealed, if persons take due care, and make proper inquiries, and if they are not led by blind passion. May Mr. Murray and Miss Nancy make just such a happy pair!

You commanded me, my honoured mamma, to write to you an account of everything that pleased me—I said I would: But what a task should I then have -I did not think I had undertaken to write volumes.-You must therefore allow me to be more brief than I had intended.

In the first place, it would take up five or six long letters to do justice to the economy observed in this happy family. You know that Mrs. B has not changed one of the servants of the family, and only added her Polly to the number. This is an unexampled thing, especially as they were all her fellow servants, as we may say: But since they have the sense to admire so good an example, and are proud to follow it, each to his and her power, I think it one of her peculiar felicities to have continued them, and to choose to reform such as were exceptionable, rather than dismiss them.

Their mouths, Deb tells me, are continually full of their lady's praises, and prayers, and blessings, uttered with such delight and fervour, for the happy pair, that it makes her eyes, she says, ready to run over to hear them.

Moreover, I think it an extraordinary piece of policy (whether designed or not) to keep them, as they were honest and worthy folks; for, had she turned them all off, what had she done but made as many enemies as she had discarded servants, and as many more as those had friends and acquaintance? And we all know how much the reputation of families lies at the mercy of servants; and 'tis easy to guess to what cause each would have imputed his or her dismission. And so she has escaped, as she ought to escape, the censure of pride; and has made every one, instead of reproaching her with her descent, find those graces in her, which turn that very disadvantage to her glory.

She is exceeding affable to every one of them; always

speaks to them with a smile; but yet has such a dignity in her manner, that it secures her their respect and reverence; and they are ready to fly at a look, and seem proud to have any commands of hers to execute: insomuch, that the words, My lady commands so or so, from one servant to another, are sure to meet with an indisputable obedience, be the duty required what it will.

If any of them are the least indisposed, her care and tenderness for them engage the veneration and gratitude of all the rest, who see in that instance how kindly they will be treated, should they ail anything themselves. And in all this I must needs say, she is very happy in Mrs. Jervis, who is an excellent second to her admirable lady; and is treated by her with as much respect and affection as if she were her mother.

You may remember, madam, that in the account she gave us of her benevolent round, as Lady Davers calls it, she says, that, as she was going to London, she should leave directions with Mrs. Jervis about some of her clients, as I find she calls her poor, to avoid a word which her delicacy accounts harsh with regard to them, and ostentatious with respect to herself. I asked her, how (since, contrary to her then expectation, Mrs. Jervis was permitted to be in town with her) she had provided to answer her intention as to those her clients, whom she had referred to the care of that good woman?

She said, that Mr. Barlow, her apothecary, was a very worthy man, and she had given him a plenary power in that particular, and likewise desired him to recommend any new and worthy case to her, that no deserving person among the destitute sick poor might be unrelieved by reason of her absence.

And here in London she has applied herself to Dr. — (her parish-minister, a fine preacher, and sound divine, who promises on all opportunities to pay his respects to Mrs. B), to recommend to her any poor housekeepers, who would be glad to accept of some private benefactions, and yet, having lived creditably, till reduced by misfortunes, are