You know, Dr. Bartlett, that I have a heart too susceptible for my own peace, though I endeavour to conceal from others those painful sensibilities, which they cannot relieve. The poor Olivia was ever to be my disturbance. Miss Byron must be happy in the rectitude of her own heart. I am ready to think, that she will not be able to resist the warm instances of the Countess of D. in favour of her son, who is certainly one of the best young men among the nobility. She will be the happiest woman in. the world, as she is one of the most deserving, if she be as happy as I wish her.

Emily takes up a large portion of my thoughts.

Our Beauchamp I know must be happy: so must my Lord W.; my sisters, and their lords. Why then shall I not think myself so? God restore Je-ronymo, and his sister, and 1 must, I ivill; for you, my dear Dr. Bartlett, are so: and then I will sub-scribe myself a partaker of the happiness of all my friends; and particularly

Your ever-affectionate

GRANDISON.

Letter XLII.

Sir Charles Grandison to Dr. Bartlett.

Bologna, Monday’, May 15 26. Last night arrived Lady Clementina, the general, his lady, the count, and Signor Sebastiano.

I had left Jeronymo about an hour. He had had in the morning the intended opening made by Mr. Lowther. He would have me present.

The operation was happily performed: but, through weakness of body, he was several times in the day troubled with faintings.

I left him tolerably cheerful in the evening; and rejoicing in expectation of his sister’s arrival; and, as the bishop had assured him of the general’s grate-ful disposition, he longed, he said, to see that af — fectionate brother and his lady once more. He had never but once seen her before, and then was so ill, that he could hardly compliment her on the honour she had done their family.

The bishop sent to tell me that his sister was arrived; but that being fatigued and unhappy, Ca-milla should acquaint me in the morning with the way in which she should then be.

I slept not half an hour the whole night. You, my dear friend, will easily account for my restlessness.

I sent, as usual, early in the morning, to know how Jeronymo rested. The answer was favourable; returned by Mr. Lowther, who sat up with him that night, at his own motion: he knew not but some-thing critical might happen.

Camilla came. The good woman was so full of her own joy to see me once more in Italy, that I could not presently get a word from her, of what my heart throbbed with impatience to know.