"So I might, and I should like it amazingly -ten thousand times better than merely going to one! But remember, if I do consent-and I have not yet determined I shall expect to have all my own way about it, order what I like, invite whom I choose, and all that."

"Every thing shall be exactly as you please, believe me. I will be your slave, the most obedient vassal ever sovereign boasted!"

"It will be in all the papers, I suppose; make as great a noise as Buonaparte's resurrection! But how are you to do about parliament ?"

"Oh, never mind that! have not a thought of me distinct from yourself; with you, no care will intrude on me."

"I don't know; I think-in short, we shall be so blamed !""

"By whom?-positively by no one rational being. It is extremely natural for a woman to forsake a man whom she does not love, for one whom she does love: what is natural cannot be wrong, as, I am sure, you remember Voltaire proves in that book I was reading to you the other day.' "Well-then-" “ I may

desire the coachman to proceed for

"I believe you may." The order was given; and Lady Clervaux was borne from innocence and happiness for ever.

Such was the termination of a union entered into from thoughtlessness and levity! Such are the effects of a man's suffering his 6

VOL. II.

wife to be obliged to others for that attention, which he ought to pay her himself!

Such are the professors of Deism!-such are the fatal consequences of fashion!

CHAP. X.

Do you pity him? No, he deserves no pity: wilt thou love such a woman? what, to make thee an instrument and play false strains upon thee?-not to be endured! SHAKSPEARE.

The double danger as by turns he view'd,
His wheeling bark her arduous track pursu'd.
Thus, while to right and left destruction lies,
Between th' extremes the daring vessel flies.
With boundless involution, bursting o'er

The marble cliffs, loud dashing surges roar;
Hoarse thro' each winding creek the tempest raves,
And hollow rocks repeat the groan of waves;
Destruction round the' insatiate coast prepares,
To crush the trembling ship, unnumber'd snares.
But hap'ly now she 'scapes the fatal strand,
Tho' scarce ten fathoms distant from the land.

FALCONER.

To the Duke of

"MR. has the honour of enclosing the accompanying papers for the Duke of's inspection. The originals, of which these are copies, are in Mr.'s possession. It will be proper to take the sense of both Houses on the matter; and his Grace will please to prepare himself accordingly!"

What a blow! at a moment too when he was not yet recovered from the effects of Lord Percival's unfortunate elopement --- at this juncture doubly unfortunate!

What a note! and penned too by a secreta

ry! The premier had not condescended to write with his own hand!

Schemes which emulated those of Alberoni were disconcerted by as very a trifle! --- the babbling of a woman!

Reflection must be decisive; action, instan

taneous.

In the course of four-and-twenty hours, the Duke of had appointed trustees for his estates; had secured a handsome income for his sister, Lady Jane; and was on his way to Not three months had elapsed since Lord Montague's return from France, and what important events had marked that interval!

America!

Grosvenor's political virtue was saved from defection; but, alas! the unfortunate vacillation of his character was still so unchanged; --- Lady Jane's conviction of its existence, and her acting on that conviction, was so powerfully and so well exercised, that Lord Montague found there was yet every thing to fear from her dangerous fascination.

Previously to her residing with the diplomatic uncle mentioned in a preceding page, Lady Jane Lorn had been immured in one of those hot-beds of vice and folly, yclept, fashionable boarding schools, in whose heated atmosphere the germ of every virtue is stifled, whilst the most noxious and poisonous weeds flourish in unchecked luxuriance. Vice always finds an easy entrance into the hearts of the young and thoughtless. Lady Jane's was such a heart; and here she acquired that con

summate duplicity of character which enabled her to assume every appearance of virtue and elegance, and which rendered her subsequent life one unbroken tissue of falsehood and deceit; whilst the graceful drapery of morality and religion veiled the deformed outline of vice, and was at once useful and becoming.

Her ladyship's feelings were sophisticated until the sense of right and wrong was confounded. They assumed, alternately, whatever tone was most likely to promote her interest. Noble passions, and imposing qualifications, were valuable in her eyes only as the affectation of their possession might tend to insure the success of her ambitious schemes.

Her sympathising pity for the children of misfortune was unbounded; the exuberance of its assertions always unchecked; but alas! like the alms of the Pharisee, it was displayed only when it would attract public attention.

Her love could assume at intervals all the fervour of the most enthusiastic devotion, the most impassioned tenderness, or the pensive melancholy of delicate, restrained, and hopeless affection. She was but the vehicle in which noble sentiments became manifest, not the possessor of those feelings that produce them.

Her natural capacity was acute rather than extensive; the instructions of the diplomatist had given her craft which often supplied the place of depth of understanding, and was no contemptible substitute for it. The levity of her mind was innate; education had so tutor

ed it that it was generally under self-government, but there were times when it would appear; when it was made tolerable by a mask of engaging sprightliness and naive gaiety; but even then, it was always prepared to ridicule all that is estimable or venerable in society.

With such qualifications Lady Jane Lorn entered the world, a finished actress, prepared to sustain any character that promised the best harvest to her hopes of aggrandisement.

It was not veneration for her God, that directed her footsteps with undeviating regularity to his temple; it was not the benevolence

of her nature that heaved her beauteous bosom at the recital of another's woe; it was not the artless preference of youthful innocence and guilelessness of heart, that bent her beaming eye with anxious fondness on its object; it was all for the more speedy attainment of the ultimatum of her wishes-elevation in society. She had been too early taught, "he sighs with most success who settles well," to be guided in her choice by any other feeling than inte rest. He whom the world called her lover might, with far more propriety, have been denominated her victim, lured to his destruction by her bland fascinations, and Circean enchantments.

Lady Jane had very early imbibed the conviction that she was a wIT, and she neglected no opportunity of establishing this opinion, even though to engraft it on the minds of her auditors, she was compelled to have recourse to indelicacy and profaneness.