Say, my children, said tb.e condescending parent, did my friend argue well?

I think, madam, answered Kitt}, >he argued poor love out of doors. She did not seem to allow the possibility of any persons being in love at all.

I told her i(), replied my grandmamma.

So far from it, said she, with a sigh, and a look expressive of the softest tenderness, that my own af-fections, as vou know, were deeply engaged. The amiable youth, to whom I was to be united by mar-riage, died. His memory will ever be dear to my u 3 heart. Love authorized by reasonable prospects; love guided and heightened by duty, is every-thing excellent that poets have said of it: yet even this love must submit to the awful dispensations of Pro-vidence, whether of death or other disappointment; and such trials ought to be met with cheerful resignation, and not to be the means of embittering our lives, or of rendering them useless: and every thing we ought to do, be assured, my dear, we shall be enabled to do if we set about it rightly, and with equal humility and trust. As for that kind of love, which in its very beginning is contrary to duty, to suppose that unconquerable, is making ourselves wretched indeed: and for first-sight impressions, and heginning inclinations, though always dangerous, and often guilty to indulge, they are absolutely trifles to overcome and suppress, to a person of prudence and virtue.

How we dwelt upon every sweet document that fell from the lips of the dear Mrs. Shirley!

But now, Harriet, for the appeals. After all, were you, or were you vot, a romantic girl, when you declared, that you never would be the wife of any man living, if you were not Sir Charles Grandi-son’s: even at the time when neither you nor we thought there could be any ho})es of such a happy event?

But had we not, however, better appeal to Lad}’’ G. than to you? You were always. 90 wise! Yet you could not be contented with the worthy Orme. You knew, instinctively, as I may say, that your kindred mind dwelt in St. James’s Square. And Lady G. forty 3’ears hence, will be looking back, I suppose, with wonder, on the time when slie gave her then fair hand of swan-skin, changed to buff [her own flighty idea!] with reluctance, to her deserving lord. So, perhaps, we had best make no appeals at all. If we did, neither you nor she are at leisure now to answer iIkjui. Yet we liave one appeal more to make; but it nmst be to our Harriet; not to Lady (i. Was not even our venerable parent a little too severe upon old maids? That wicked Nancy tell a laughini^ Does she know wliat may be her o’.vn case? Mere is a <rreat parcel oF girls of us Have not I, her elder, been crossed in love already? But if no proper match ever offers, nuist we take an improper one, to avoid the ridicule of a mere name? aVn unsupported state is better than an oppressed, a 7niserab/eone, however: andhow nnmy rashly-chosen husbands, and repentant wives, could 1 set against Nancy’s Mrs. Arby? But the post is just going out; so that, far from entering on so copious a sub-ject, I have barely time to add, that I am, v. ith the truest affection, my dearest creature,