him that he had been lately reading |dered as immoral, told him, half a work, in which the author had at-inclining to warmth, that he feared, tempted to show that promifes, and notwithstanding his violent declamaeven the most folemn obligations, were not binding as fuch, but only when the acts they obliged to, on mature examination were approved by reason, as juft and beneficial. "I fear much (faid Mr. Everard) to enter into fuch a difpute; I know the strong pofts which fophiftry may feize, and with how much difficulty the contest may be attended. I fear to depart from the good old doctrines of morality; nor will I too haftily renounce what I deem the clear in dications of the common fenfe of man." Mr. Mortimer eagerly detailed the arguments he had learned, or which fuggefted themselves, in favour of this thefis; and, in the warmth of difpute, afferted pofitions which fomewhat difpleafed, and, indeed, almost shocked the good Mr. Eve rard. tion against the paffions, fome paffion, which he fecretly cherished, lurked concealed beneath his arguments. Mr. Mortimer now perceived, with much concern, the fufpicions he had excited in the breaft of Mr. Everard. He hastened to Lætitia, to whom he difcourfed in language diametrically oppofite; enforcing the obligation of every engagement, however flight, and enlarging on the facred nature of friendship and gratitude. Lætitia was not a little furprifed, as the fubject was very abruptly introduced, and Mr. Mortimer feemed to pursue it with uncommon eagerness and earnestness. He fpoke, however, in fuch a manner as to fhow that he concealed fome fecret which preyed on his tranquillity of mind. In a few days, fome particular affairs calling him to London, he took his leave of Mr. Everard with The latter advanced that, in many cafes, the performance of acts which might not have the entire approba-very apparent embarraffment, and of tion of our reason with refpect to Lætitia with evident agitation. their propriety and utility, might be required by the claims of friendfhip and gratitude. Nearly at the fame time, an event took place which not a little affected Mr. Everard and his family: the good fir Ralph Waldegrave was fuddenly feized with an apoplectic fit, and expired. At the word gratitude, Mr. Mortimer again eagerly renewed his academical attack. He affirmed that gratitude was as much a paffion as Mr. Everard was a fincere mournlove or anger, and as liable to leader. He had loft a friend of the fimthe mind aftray from truth and the pleft manners, and endowed with dictates of reafon; that rectitude or the most benevolent heart: the learn-truth ought alone to be the rule ofing and abilities of fir Ralph were our actions, which muft proportionally fwerve from that rule, as they were influenced by any motive of the nature of paffion. He placed this doctrine in a variety of points of view, defended it with all the powers of his reafoning, and embellifhed it with all the ornaments with which his lively imagination farnifhed him; until at length Mr. Everard, wearied with a reafoning he esteem ed fophiftic, and a doctrine he confi certainly not of the first order; but his unblemished integrity, and the goodness of his difpofition, rendered him defervedly dear to all who knew him. His fon Charles came to attend. his funeral, paid a formal vifit to Mr. Everard, whom he prefented with a mourning-ring, and in a few weeks fet off for Bath. In the mean time Mr. Mortimer continued in London, ill at eafe in his heart; for the frequent inter views and converfations which he had had with Latitia, had impreffed him with the fincereft admiration of her; and, as he now found, with the moft violent love for her, what, while he was prefent with her, he thought merely respect and esteem, fanned by abfence, burst out in all the blaze of ardent paffion. Her beauties and her virtues occupied his thoughts by day; and, in the flumbers of the night, his enamoured fancy exhibited her image (her dear image) in a thousand modes to his delighted foul. But fill the reflection occurred that he was deftined to another, whom the world, at leaft, would efteem far his fuperior in rank and property; and that to prefer his fuit would be to violate, even in his own eftimation, every principle of justice, and to act with the greatest ingratitude towards the man whom he most highly efteemed, and who had, on every occafion, proved himfelf his friend. Amid all thefe conflicting reflections, he determined, however, to indulge himself in one more vifit to the place where the object which had occafioned him fo much anxiety refided. He refolved to act the hero, to face his danger, to fubdue his paffion by reafon, and not meanly to Hy where he ought to conquer. Animated with these fentiments, he arrived at Mr. Everard's. He beheld his dear Lætitia, who now appeared to him a thousand times more lovely than he had ever before feen her. He was received by Mr. Everard with the moft cordial friendthip; and, in the moments when he forgot that Lætitia was deftined for another, he believed himself in paradife. Before he had continued there many days, happening to be alone with Lætitia, he began a long difcourfe on the power of reafon over paffion, and the duty of children to fubmit to the wishes of parents in matrimonial alliances for family advantages; which latter doctrine Lætitia feemed to hesitate to admit in the whole extent to which he urged it; and her objections had fuch an effect on his active mind, that, in contradiction to all he had juft laid down, he concluded with a moft ardent and rapturous declaration of love for her; at the fan e time difclaiming all hope of obrát ing what he esteemed the greatest blefling on earth. Lætitia, fu prifed and unprepared, returned no anfwer; and Mr. Everard, coming in almost immediately after, prevented any further explanation: the embarrassment of his daughter, and efpecially of her companion, was, however, fo vifible, that the good divine could not avoid conjecturing of what nature their tête-à-tête had been. The next morning, at breakfaft, the fame hesitation and embarraffment feemed to prevail among all parties; when a letter was brought to Mr. Everard, which, after having read filently, he fmiled, and said, I know not but the intelligence this letter brings may concern us all; I fhall, therefore, read it aloud.” It contained as follows: 66 REV. SIR, "THOUGH almost a stranger to you, I think it may be proper for me to inform you that, on Thursday laft, fir Charles Waldegrave, the fon of your late deceated friend, fir Ralph Waldegrave, was married, at Bath, to a mils Mitchel, an heirefs with a large fortune." On hearing this letter, Mr. Mortimer, ever liable to be hurried away by his feelings, ftarted fuddenly up, with the most vifible emotion; but, recovering himfelf, fat down again. in no little confufion. A deep blush. overfpread the countenance of La. titia; but it was evidently not that either of anger or difappointment; and Mr. Everard, who feemed to be the only perfon capable of imine diately fpeaking, again thus addreff-| ed his daughter and his vifitor. This disappointment, as the world may call it, I affure you, Lætitia, is by no means unwelcome to me, if it be equally, as I have for fome time, fufpected, welcome to ; we may, perhaps, be much greater gainers than lofers by it. For my, part, convinced, as I am, that this modifh gentleman had very little either of your efteem or my own, I rather rejoice that a temptation has been removed, that might have induced us to facrifice happiness to riches, and the falfe glare of worldly fplendor." Nothing now remained to prevent the union of Mr. Mortimer with his beloved Lætitia: it took place, and they enjoyed that real happiness which pride and pomp cannot con fer. Sir Simon Flourish and Old Tefty were partners in trade, but have re tired from business. Each has a fon, whom he educates according to his own notions of propriety. Sir Simon thinks it is proper that his fon fhould travel, in order that he may know the world: but Tefty conceives that the best way of arming his fon against the artifices of mankind, is to bring him up to the law; and, for this purpofe, he has him trained in the arts of cunning at a school in Yorkshire. Mifs Hartley, an accomplished young lady, is the ward of both thefe old men; and each defigns that the fhall be married to his fon. Sir Simon values himself on his good-breeding, and Old Testy on his honefty; though neither porfeffes the quality to which he pretends. It appears that Young Flourifh, inftead of following his father's direction, has fquandered away all the money intended for travellingexpenfes, and is confined in the King's Bench, while his father imagines he is feafting with the grand duke of Tufcany, or kiffing the foot of his holiness the Pope. Young Tefty comes to town; and, being fuffered to live by himself in chambers, he falls into the hands of tharpers, and lofes all the money his father gave him to pay the trade smen who have furnished the apartments where he is to purfue his fludies. The fathers have each agreed that their fons fhall have a fair chance for the hand of mifs Hartley, who, however, is fecretly attached to Harcourt, an amiable young man, but the victim of imprudence, and also a prifoner in the King's Bench, to which place the difappointed tradef men fend Young Tefty. Captain O'Neil, a generous Irifliman, being under a mistake refpecting Harcourt, means to challenge him, but firft borrows money of fir Simon, to releafe Harcourt from confinement, without, however, fuffering Harcourt to know who is his bencfactor. Captain O'Neil is alfo a candidate for the hand of mifs Hartley; but, intending to get lady Flourish to promoté |