London, Monday, September 1829. What can I say, most excellent of women, to the contents of the letter you have honoured me with? Wliat a task have you imposed upon me! You take great, and, respecting your intentions, I will call it kind care, to let me know that I can have no interest in the dt cision of the case you refer to me. I re-peat my hunihle acquiescence; but must again de clare, that it would have been next to impossible to do so, had you not made a point of conscience of your scruples.

But what weight is my advice likely to have with a young lady, who repeatedly, in the close of her letter, desires me not to give it /or her parents?

I, madaai, am far from being unprejudiced in this case: for, can the man who once himself hoped for the honour of jour hand, advise you against mar-riage? Are not your parents generously indulgent, when they name not any particular person to you? I applaud both their wisdom and their goodness, on t!)is ocea^ion Possibly vou guess the man whom they would reconnnend to your choice: and I am sure Lady Clementina would not refuse their re-conmiendation merely because it was theirs. Kor indeed upon any less reason than an unconquerable aversion, or a preference to some other Catholic. A protcstant, it seems, it ccuunt be.

But let me ask my sister, niv friend, What answer can I return to the lady who had shewn, in o;/r instance, that she had not an insuperable aversion to matrimony; yet, on conscientious reasons, refusing one man, and not particularly favouring any, can scruple to oblige {obey is not the word they use) ‘ a father, who with tears in his eyes beseeches her; a mother who gently reminds her of what she has suffered for her; who declares, that it is in her power to make the rest of her days happy; and who urges a still stronger plea, respecting them both, and the whole family, to engage the attention of the beloved daughter? O madam, what pleas are those [let me still make use of your own pathetic words] from a father whose eyes plead more strongly than words! and from a mother, over whose bright days you had (though involuntarily) cast a cloud! Your brother the bishop, a man of piety; your confessor, a man of equal piety; your two other brothers, your disinterested friend Mrs. Beaumont; your faithful Camilla;’ all wholly disinterested. What an enu-meration against yourself. Forbidden, as I am, to give the cause against you, what can I say? Dear-est Lady Clementina, can I, on your own represen — tation, give it ybr you?