And had she not been entrusted to the management of the cruel Laurana, said the bishop

From which, thank God, said the father, I was the instrument of freeing her.

By all this, proceeded I, I mean not recrimination; but only to observe the consistencvofthe noble lady’s mind, when she was able to reflect. And what now remains for me to do, but to reconcile myself, if possible, to a conduct that I must ever admire, however I may, in its consequences, as to my own particular, regret it? Your lordship, I am r3 afraid, thinks, that she adheres to the contents of the paper she put into my hands. Unless you, chevalier

That, my lord, is out of the question. Let it, however, be remembered that 1 have not prescribed to her that hard condition, which is made an indispensable one to me. Yet is Lady Clemen-tina the only woman on earth that I would have wished to call mine, on the terms on which I should have been proud to receive her hand: for it is easy to foresee, that, generally, great inconveniences must attend a marriage between persons of a dif-ferent religion, one of them zealous, the other not indifferent.

But, chevalier, )‘Ou acquit Father Marescotti and me.

I do, my lord. Be you your own judges. The condition was not proposed by me. I consented to it, for the sake of those who prescribed it, and for your sister’s sake. I could not wish to prosecute my humble suit, notwithstanding her declared fa-vour for me, against the pleas of conscience which she so earnestly urged. How could I, while reli-gion, and the generosity of her friends to her, re — quired, as she thought, that she should get above all regards for me? I was therefore willing to comply with the proposal, and to wait the issue of her spon-taneous determination, and to be governed by it. But now that your lordship and Father Marescotti have dispensed with the condition, I presume that I am not bound by it.

What means my Grandison?

Only this: I could not be thought to bear a love so fervent to the admirable Clementina, as the man ought to bear who aspires to the honour of calling her his, if I made not one effort to convince her that she may be happy with me as to the article she is so solicitous about From female delicacy, she may, perhaps, expect to be argued with, and to be persuaded. Allow me to give her assurances of my inviolable honour in that point. It becomes me, as a man, and as her admirer, to remove her scruples, if I can, before I yield up my love to the force of them.

Would you argue with her on the merits of the two persuasions?