an uncle, and if she married without his consent she forfeited nearly the whole of her property. Both my father and herself were, however, too much attached to regard this circumstance in the light of a serious obstacle to their union. My income, small as it is, my dear Charlotte (said my father), will afford us the decent comforts of life, and could you but be content with them, I should esteem myself the happiest of men in calling you mine.'

"Was I desirous of more, I should be unworthy the possession of your invaluable heart (replied she), what indeed have we in this world to wish for beyond the joys of mutual affection, peace, and competence.'. With such sentiments as these, you will suppose that the union of the lovers soon took place, and for some time their felicity was great indeed. A summons to my father to join his ship was the first interruption it met with; it was the first time that he ever felt reluctant to per

form his duty, my mother was far gone in a state of pregnancy, and he dreaded the effect which his departure might produce upon her health and spirits; but the call of honour and of duty must be obeyed; and he tore himself away, after a thousand charges to 'her to be careful of her health for his sake, and for that of the dear expected one.

66

My mother assumed the heorine, but it was a character that her native softness rendered her ill calculated to support; and her anxiety of mind brought on a premature labour. I was born two months before the usual time, and for some weeks after my birth, my mother entertained daily apprehensions of losing me: her fears were however vain, I began to thrive; and on my father's return at the end of a year, I was a stout, healthy child; and, as he declared, while he pressed me to his bosom, the perfect image of my mother, Some years rolled away, and the occasional absences of my father served to

give a keener relish to his domestic pleasures; they had no further increase of their family, and I was the little idol of both but how transient is human felicity; the news of a battle, and of my father's health and safety, reached my mother at the same moment; he had taken a valuable prize, and the papers of the day were filled with accounts of his bravery, and of his generosity to the conquered enemy. Tears of gratitude to heaven for the preservation of her dear George's life, fell from the eyes of my mother, while her heart swelled with an honest pride at the well-earned applause so liberally bestowed upon him, and she anticipated with delight the transport of clasping him to her bosom in a few weeks, perhaps days. Alas! these hopes were destined never to be fulfilled; my father arrived safe in port, and immediately on his landing was seized with a violent fever, which carried him off in a few days.

"The news of this event had nearly proved fatal to my mother; and nothing

could, I believe, have enabled her to survive it, but her doating fondness for me. For thy sake, my beloved child, (said she), I must a little longer bear the load of life!' And to her it was indeed a load. I was at this period in my twelfth year, and I regretted my father as much as a girl at that age could do; but time soon reconciled me to my loss; not so my poor mother; her struggle with her feelings undermined her constitution, and though she lived for near¬ ly four years after this event, she never could be said to enjoy a day's health.

"She devoted herself wholly to me; and as she could not bring herself to part with me, I had masters at home, and the care of my mind and morals was her only solace. I knew nothing of the world but from books and the conversation of my mother; for, after the death of my father, she never mixed with society. My natural disposition was open and unsuspecting, and I grew up in the belief, that to deserve friends

was the way to obtain them, and that I should everywhere meet with kindness and sincerity. Fatal, though innocent error, what misery do I not owe to thee!

"Before I had quite attained my six. teenth year, my mother died, and I was left under the guardianship of Mr. Wilmot, a man of, whom she knew little, but his character was excellent, and he had been under the greatest obligations to my father. My little fortune of four thousand pounds, my mother left at my own, disposal, as soon as I had attained my eighteenth year. Mr. Wilmot was a merchant, and appeared an amiable and benevolent man; he did not attempt to check the first exuberance of my grief; for he knew enough of human nature to know that, during the violence of sorrow, the voice of consolation is unheeded, or turned from with disgust; but he gradually weaned me from the contemplation of my irreparable loss, by pointing out to me the