CHAPTER XIX.
IN WHICH A KNOT IS TIED.
From Colvin Fraser, Esq., to Mrs Hurstwood.
MUXIDAVAD, June ye 8th, Evening.
My pen, madam, ought by rights to be dipped in joy, since it has the charming task of announcing to the most faithful of friends that the dear sufferer, in whose fate she and I have experienced a joint concern, is now safely restored to the society of her countrymen, and that no long time will, I trust, elapse, before she hastens to Calcutta to embrace her Mrs Hurstwood. This agreeable news, you’ll say, should stimulate me to impart it in fitting terms, but to tell you the truth, madam, I have begun this letter already three times over, for I can’t satisfy myself in communicating the rest of my intelligence. ’Tis not only that I lack the fitting words for so tremendous an announcement, my heart fails me in imagining Mrs Hurstwood’s scorn and resentment on hearing of my presumption; yet I would cheerfully brave even these did my mind supply me with terms appropriate to my situation, but rather than degrade the occasion by my poverty of speech, I’ll leave my news untold. In short, madam, I can’t write; my heart is too full. My revered and obliging friend Dr Dacre will take up the task I have abandoned, and permit me to subscribe myself, Mrs Hurstwood’s most obedient, humble servant,
C. FRASER.
From the Rev. Dr Dacre to Mrs Hurstwood.
MUCKSADABAD, June ye 8th, Midnight.
In obedience, madam, to the urgent entreaty of my young friend Lieutenant Fraser, I venture to intrude myself upon the notice of Mrs Hurstwood, confiding in that sprightly and indulgent temper of which none can be ignorant that have been in company with the gentlemen whom she honours with her acquaintance—a favoured band in which it is my earnest desire to be numbered at the earliest possible period. In the joyful confusion of mind which is the natural accompaniment of Mr Fraser’s present situation, he has been unable to direct me in any way in the task I have undertaken, and I purpose, therefore, to follow the extremely just precedent which I understand him to have established in his former epistles to Mrs Hurstwood, and relate the events of this evening in their proper historic order. If, in so doing, I should lay myself open to that reproach which has been recorded against old men by my honoured friend Mr Samuel Johnson, that they too often grow narrative in their age, and weary where they hope to please, let my fair correspondent be so gracious as to ascribe the fault to the respectful awe in which I stand of her, and not either to my subject or my ill-will.
Seated this evening, madam, upon the varendar here with my obliging host, Mr Watts, I took occasion to remark upon the absence of the two young gentlemen, Mr Fraser and Mr Ranger, neither of whom I had seen since early morning.
“Mr Ranger I sent to Maudipore on an errand as soon as it was cool,” replied Mr Watts, “and I heard him come in a while ago. As for the Lieutenant, he’s engaged on his own business, but what that is I don’t know, nor do I ask it.”
“What’s this noise of shouting and singing that I hear approaching?” I asked him. “Sure there’s no idol-pagoda so close as that?”
“No, ’tis but the pagans holding one of their tamashes, or as like as not the Nabob is taking an evening walk with his intimates. One of my correspondents in the Durbar brought me word to-day that Meer Sinzaun’s influence with his master is on the wane, and that he was endeavouring to re-establish it by presenting him with some very choice entertainment this evening at a house he has on the skirts of the town. Questionless the Prince and his favourites are now on their way thither. If there was the faintest touch of spirit in Meer Jaffier, he would sally out and capture Surajah Dowlah when he’s passing through the streets with all this riot and noise, but the fellow has no more enterprise than any bawboo. However, provided the Nabob don’t pay me a visit, there’s nothing to trouble us in his nightly perambulation.”
“Am I mistaken, or is the noise stopping before the gate?” said I.
Mr Watts raised himself on his elbow to listen, just as Mr Ensign Ranger approached us from the direction of the gate, having the liveliest contempt imaginable depicted upon his visage.
“Sir,” says he to Mr Watts, “there’s Rajah Moneloll[01] at the gate, with a whole rabble of louchees at his heels. They say there’s a slave-girl—a country-born wench—missing from the seraglio, and demand to know whether she has took refuge here. I have assured ’em of the contrary, but they require to see you.”
“See me they may, but they won’t find the door opened to ’em,” said Mr Watts, turning towards the gate, whither we were accompanied by Mr Fraser and the servant Mirza Shah, who had just joined with us. We found Moneloll very particular in his enquiries, though he offered no reason why the wench should seek refuge with us.
“I have told you that she en’t here,” says Mr Watts at last. “The only woman in the place is the chokeydar’s grandmother, and she’s near a hundred years old, but if you’re desirous to see the old lady, I’ll have her step this way.”
This handsome offer raised a laugh, but the favourite represented that the Nabob would be better satisfied if his men were permitted to search the house in order to assure themselves of our innocence.
“Then I fear his Highness won’t be satisfied,” said Mr Watts, “for no one enters this house to search it but over the bodies of these gentlemen and myself, and for that you’ll have to answer to Saubut Jung Behader.”[02]
“Why do you feign to take my jest for earnest, Watch Siab?” says Moneloll, with an air of reproach, and withdrew with his followers.
“Because it would have turned to deadly earnest when once these fellows had laid hands on the treasonable papers I have in the house,” said Mr Watts to me in a low voice.
“They’re setting guards to watch the house, sir,” says Mr Ranger, “so as to allow no one to enter unperceived.”
“This might have been serious a week ago,” said Mr Watts, “but now——”
“Sir,” said Mr Fraser on a sudden, “I must ask your pardon for correcting what you said a moment back, but the lady that Moneloll seeks is in the house.”
“In the house, sir? Where?”
“In the godown at the back of the courtyard, close to the small door, sir.”
“And you choose this moment, sir, when all our lives hang upon a thread, and spies among our servants are watching not only our motions, but our looks and words, to embroil me with the Nabob for the sake of a half-cast wench?”
“Sir! the lady is she of whom I told you, who survived the fall of Calcutta.”
“Pray, Mr Fraser, remember I warned you that I could not listen to any account of your aspirations in coming here. Still, you have set the affair in a better light, and kept me from handing the woman back at once to the Nabob, as I was about to do. But if I may presume to ask it, what’s your object in bringing her here?”
“To procure for her your protection, sir, and the means of rejoining her friends.”
“And this when every foot of the way to Calcutta swarms with enemies! Perhaps you en’t aware, sir, that to-morrow you’re to repair to Maudipore with Dr Dacre and Mr Ranger, in order to be ready should I be compelled to quit Mucksadabad suddenly. Pray, is the lady to go with you or remain here with me? How, pray, do you hope to convey her to Calcutta? Sure you had better have left her where she was.”
“Had I done so, sir, I would be the most calculating coward that ever breathed.”
“Say you so, indeed? Come, sir, what’s your relation to the lady?”
“I honour and esteem her infinitely, sir.”
“Pray, are you her humble servant?”
“That’s the position to which I aspire, sir.”
“Well, will you marry her to-night?”
“To-night, sir? But I han’t asked her.”
“That’s an omission can quickly be repaired. Will you do it?”
“But, sir, such haste—indecent haste—her friendless situation—she would feel her delicacy outraged by the mere suggestion——”
“Oh, we won’t press you, sir. Mr Ranger, you’re acquainted with the lady. Will you assume the office of protecting her?”
“With all my heart, sir, this very moment.”
“Sir!” cried Mr Fraser to Mr Watts. “Jem!” to Mr Ranger.
“Why, what a selfish cur art thou, Colvin!” cried the young gentleman. “A true dog in the manger, and sullen at that. Because the poor girl don’t find favour with thee, would’st have her lose all chance of a kind spouse?”
“Put up your sword, sir,” cried Mr Watts angrily to Mr Fraser. “How will you quarrel with Mr Ranger for obliging me where you refuse? Have you anything to say against him?”
“This, sir,” said Mr Fraser, standing and confronting Mr Watts very stiffly. “Shortly before the fall of Calcutta I received a letter from my cousin Colquhoun, with whom you was acquainted, saying that in response to my urgent desire expressed to him, he was setting on foot a treaty of marriage between Miss Freyne and myself, but beyond adding that she had offered no opposition to the match, he told me nothing of her temper towards me. The troubles that followed brought the negotiation to an abrupt conclusion, so you’ll perceive I can’t tell how I stand with regard to the lady.”
“I’ll promise you this, at least,” says Mr Ranger; “I won’t run off with your mistress before your eyes, Colvin.”
“Pray, sir, be silent,” says Mr Watts. “Am I to understand that you’re willing for the completion of the treaty, Mr Fraser, if the lady be the same?”
“Why, yes, sir, with all my heart. But how approach the subject without seeming to the lady to presume upon such slight service as I have been able to render her? She is the very soul of delicacy, and to be lowered in her eyes would be intolerable to me.”
“Give me your hand, Mr Fraser!” says Mr Watts, warmly. “You’re a youth of spirit, and I honour your scruples. You shan’t have this odious task forced upon you. I will myself approach the lady on your behalf, and take her mind in the matter.”
I have never, madam, seen a young gentleman with so astonished an air as Mr Fraser. “But, sir,” he stammered, “the haste will be the same.”
“My good sir,” says Mr Watts, “I’ll assure you the lady shall be told that you’re about to be forced to the altar at the sword’s point. I’ll swear to her that you’d wish to delay the ceremony for ten years if it could be compassed. In fact, to satisfy you I’ll intimate to her that you marry her but to oblige me. What, en’t this enough?”
“Sir, sir!” cried the unfortunate young man, and stopped, unable to say more.
“Come, sir,” said Mr Watts, “trust me to guard both the lady’s punctilio and your own. Her father was one of my most intimate friends, and I desire nothing but good to his daughter. If she’s reluctant to have you, I’ll say no more, but if you’re both willing, why delay? Come, doctor, you shall add your persuasions to mine.”
Taking the lantern which the Tartar brought him, Mr Watts led the way to the godown, leaving Mr Fraser a lively image of despair, and his friend plying him with mocking consolations. Mr Watts unlocking the door, we passed into the warehouse, and discovered a female form seated on one of the bales. To you, madam, who enjoyed for so long the felicity of being continually in company with Miss Freyne, I need not express the sensations with which my friend and myself beheld the extraordinary loveliness of this young creature, more especially when we remembered the affecting situation in which she was placed, as she rose and saluted us with an air of modest dignity that added, if that were possible, another to the many graces of her aspect.
“Your servant, gentlemen,” said she.
“Madam,” says Mr Watts, “your most humble servant. My old comrade Hal Freyne’s daughter don’t, I hope, hear for the first time the name of William Watts? This here is my friend Dr Dacre, a learned divine and most ingenious author.”
Miss Freyne curtseyed again, in acknowledgment of my host’s too partial mention of myself, but methought her eyes rested with a more assured confidence on Mr Watts, who (worthy man!) experienced, as I thought, some embarrassment in fulfilling the task he had chosen, but in this I was to find myself mistaken.
“Doctor,” he said, turning to me, “you was right and I wrong.”
“Indeed, sir, this handsome acknowledgment——” said I, altogether ignorant of his meaning.
“Yes, indeed. I thought the young gentleman’s fears uncalled-for, but now I’m inclined to believe him rather presumptuous than modest.”
I began to understand. “He seemed to me to carry himself very properly, sir.”
“But in face of so much beauty, sir! Why, Prince George himself would have good cause to tremble in the presence of such a lady. The assurance of these young fellows is prodigious! I’m unwilling to prejudice the foolish youth in the eyes of a person he reveres so highly, but I must confess I should be glad to see his arrogant pretensions suitably rebuked.”
“Sure, sir, you’re too hard,” I said, while Miss Freyne turned her eyes in bewilderment from one of us to the other. “The young gentleman displayed a very proper sense of his own unworthiness as compared with the lady, and after all, he has done his best to serve her.”
“A plague on his services, sir!” cried Mr Watts. “Is it to be endured that the mere risque of finding himself dismissed the navy, together with a paltry five months’ residing and working here for Miss Freyne’s release, should inspire the coxcomb with the notion of possessing a claim on the lady’s gratitude?”
Here Miss Freyne interrupted us. “Sir,” she said, with the most charming blush imaginable, “I can’t help guessing that you speak of Mr Fraser. I trust I han’t been so unfortunate as in any way to injure his prospects in life through the generous ardour that impelled him to attempt my release?”
“Why, madam,” says Mr Watts, pushing his wig on one side, as one greatly perplexed, “this is the fact of the matter—though indeed, if I didn’t know that Miss Freyne’s wit and discretion are reported to exceed, if possible, her beauty, I should not venture to lay it before her. I can’t deny but Mr Fraser is in bad odour with his superiors, and runs some risque of being put on his trial for desertion, owing to his exceeding the time allowed him here by the Admiral; but as I said just now, any man should count himself honoured in being permitted to run some risque for Miss Freyne’s sake.”
But here I thought that Mr Watts was gone too far, for the unfortunate lady fell back against the goods behind her, as pale as death. “Alas!” she murmured, “must I involve yet another in the miseries I bring on all concerned with me—and this one my brave deliverer?”
“Nay, madam,” cried Mr Watts, “the young gentleman is of opinion that you may compensate him if you will for any risques to which he may have been exposed. But, as I was saying, who could expect Miss Freyne to sacrifice herself for such an insignificant person?”
The lady’s face was whiter than before. “Sacrifice myself? I offered that very thing, but he refused,” she breathed, so low that we could scarce hear her, “and now he sends to ask it of me! No, sir,” she cried out suddenly, “’tis unpossible. You must have mistook him. He could not be so base.”
“Why, madam,” said Mr Watts, in extreme surprise, “I have said that I think the young gentleman presumptuous, but I can’t see that there’s any baseness in asking you to be his.”
“What! is that all?” she cried, and immediately fell to laughing and weeping in a style that I found vastly alarming. “I thought you was telling me that he desired I should give myself up again to Meer Sinzaun, sir.”
“Oh, madam,” said I, “indeed you wrong the young gentleman.”
“I know I do, and I’m an ungrateful wretch!” she cried, still sobbing.
“Well, madam, ’tis in your power to make him full amends,” said Mr Watts. “May I inform him that you have no objection to marry him to-night?”
“Sir!” cried Miss Freyne, drawing herself up with all the dignity in the world.
“Why, madam, here are you in extreme need of a protector, and out yonder is Mr Fraser, languishing under the conviction that he’s offended you beyond pardon in hinting at his desires by my lips. Here also is Dr Dacre at your service. If this be the right moment for exhibiting severe justice towards the man that loves her, I’m convinced Miss Freyne will show it; but if it’s possible for mercy to override punctilio, then I believe she has sufficient greatness of mind to lay aside the privilege of her sex, and make Mr Fraser happy without tormenting him further—unless,” added Mr Watts with great anxiety, “you have already, madam, entered into any engagement of marriage that would forbid this?”
“No, sir, I am happily free. Refusing Meer Sinzaun’s addresses, he desired to revenge himself by resigning me to the Nabob; but from this frightful slavery I was rescued—by Mr Fraser. I hope, sir, you don’t expect me to agree with you in the remarks you was pleased to pass on the gentleman just now? I have such a confidence in him, and I am so deeply indebted to his kindness, that I could not hesitate a moment in making him happy, as you are obliging enough to call it, if I could believe it really for his advantage. But this extraordinary haste—my desolate situation—the want of the merest necessaries of life—” the lady looked at her gown, and blushed again; “and also—— But pray, sir, if Mr Fraser’s feelings are so deeply engaged, why don’t he approach me himself on the matter? Sure you’ll agree that he owes me the compliment of declaring his own wishes and enquiring mine?”
“Why, madam, the poor young gentleman is in so sad a state, from apprehension of his own unworthiness and your deserved severity, that I refused to allow him to plead his own cause, lest he should do himself less than justice. And that reminds me, we are prolonging his agony with the most exquisite cruelty. Madam, you’ll consent?”
“Oh, sir—oh, Dr Dacre, you are a clergyman—advise me. I don’t desire to be unkind, but——”
“Why, madam, I can but advise you to follow your own heart.”
“And that,” says Mr Watts, “Miss has been good enough to show us already. Come, doctor, let us inform Mr Fraser of his good fortune. Madam, I’ll attend you again in a few minutes.”
“Sir—Mr Watts!” I heard Miss Freyne cry, but my host shut the door behind him.
“I think you’ll say I know how to humour the ladies as well as the Indians, doctor?” he said to me, very complacently, as we came to the house. “Come, Mr Fraser, your mistress consents to make you happy. Go and get ready, sir.”
“But, pray tell me, sir—she en’t offended?”
“Be thankful for what you’ve got, sir, and ask no questions.”
“Don’t be too curious in your enquiries, Colvin,” says Mr Ranger. “Come at once and get rid of that undress of yours. I must have you wear your uniform to be married in.”
“Stop, Mr Ranger!” cried Mr Watts. “Have you forgot that we must keep this wedding a secret from the servants? What will Mr Fraser’s boy say to see him in full dress?”
“I vow, sir, I had quite forgot it; though, indeed, most of the servants are gone to their houses for the night. But sure, sir, you won’t forbid me to oblige our friend with the loan of a ruffled shirt, and the merest sprinkling of powder? Why, the lady might cry off from her bargain if she discovered the true colour of his hair!”
This having the desired effect in inducing a smile on Mr Fraser’s serious countenance, Mr Ranger led away his friend in triumph, while Mr Watts and I disposed the room as orderly as we might for the marriage. Presently the two young gentlemen rejoined us, demanding earnestly what was to be done for a ring? Incredible though it may appear, not one of us was provided with this essential feature of the ceremony.
“Has no one so much as a signet-ring?” cried Mr Watts. “Come, Mr Fraser, sure you possess one with a coat-of-arms on it, to show the noble house from which you’re sprung? I never knew a Scotchman yet that did not carry with him so convenient a testimony to his ancestry.”
“Any small article of the required shape will serve,” said I, observing that Mr Fraser appeared to regard this jest as a reflection cast upon his nation. “I have known the handle of the church-key masquerade as a ring.”
“Why, then, we need make no further trouble,” said Mr Watts, taking a seal from his watch chain, and unfastening the ring that held it. “This will about fit your lady’s finger, Mr Fraser, and she’ll be able to say that she was married with the seal of the Cossimbuzar factory. I’ll have some goldsmith make me another.”
“Sure, gentlemen, we are keeping the bride waiting,” says Mr Ranger. “Pray, Dr Dacre, lend me a prayer-book, and let me be clerk. As the lady has no bridemaid, Mr Fraser won’t need a brideman, but some one must deliver the responses.”
Having a second prayer-book with me, I was able to oblige Mr Ranger, and Mr Watts departed to fetch the bride. I had observed that Mr Fraser was wearing an extraordinary resolved air, and as soon as the lady appeared he stepped forward to meet her, saying very earnestly as he took her hand—
“Madam, the happiness you offer me is so extravagantly great that I scarce dare accept it, for I can hardly believe that you would condescend to bestow it of your own accord. Pray, madam, don’t think I desire to press you unduly. If you have any doubt of my sentiments towards you, or hesitate to honour me by confiding yourself wholly to my affection, say so, and I will hint no more of marriage, but swear to convey you safe to Calcutta and restore you to your friends, if it cost me my life.”
“Will you assure me on your honour, sir, that you desire this marriage?” The lady raised her eyes, and regarded him earnestly.
“Why, madam, ’twould make me the happiest man on earth,” he stammered, meeting her glance with a sort of modest resolution which I thought one of the prettiest things I had ever seen.
“I thank you, sir. I have had my answer, and there’s yours,” and she placed her other hand in his, an action that transfigured Mr Fraser’s face with delight. But Mr Watts, declaring that the lady was anticipating the service, and seeking to supersede him in his duty of giving her away by doing it for herself, took her hand again to conduct her where I stood, and I proceeded with the office in a low but distinct voice, the Venetian blinds being drawn to prevent any of the servants catching sight of what was going on, and the Tartar keeping guard in the varendar, armed with a sword and buckler. I observed that Mr Fraser made the prescribed answers in a clear tone, instead of merely bowing, a careless custom of this æra that has nothing to excuse it, and the lady also could be heard without much effort.
“Come, sir, salute your lady,” said Mr Watts, when the service was over, compassionating the bashfulness of the married pair so far as to refrain from commencing the usual indecorous struggle (which a politer age will sure abandon) for the first kiss from the bride. “What, will you put a public affront upon Mrs Fraser?” for the bridegroom offered only to salute the lady’s hand. “Well, sir, fools make fortunes, and wise men spend ’em,” and Mr Watts saluted her cheek very gallantly. I won’t deny that I put in my claim for the parson’s fee, or that Mr Ranger exceeded his duty as clerk by demanding one also, but ’twas Mr Fraser observed that his bride was trembling, and hard put to it to restrain her tears. With a delicacy that I had scarce expected in him, he led her to a seat and begged her to compose herself, while Mr Watts, bustling about with a great air of mystery, brought out a bottle of champaign.
“Here,” he said, “this is my last bottle. I was reserving it against the day Colonel Clive enters Mucksadabad, but now we’ll drink Mrs Fraser’s health in it. At least the liquor won’t be wasted if our schemes miscarry. Put on a brighter countenance, doctor, or I shall congratulate myself in having foiled you in a design to run off with the lady yourself. I don’t wonder you have a shame-faced air.”
“Why, indeed, sir,” said I, following with his humour in the hope of bringing a smile to Mrs Fraser’s face, “I should have been sore tempted but for the remembrance of a remark of my friend Mr Samuel Johnson. Asked whether he regarded it as expedient that a young divine should make a runaway match with the object of his affections, ‘Why no, sir,’ he cried, ‘for who should then perform the ceremony?’ Sure that would have been my case also.”
Perceiving my design, as I can’t help believing, the lady smiled slightly, but Mr Watts took advantage of her cheerfulness to dash her spirits afresh. “Our next business, Mr Fraser,” he said, “will be to devise some plan for getting your lady safely out of the city.”
“Sure, sir,” said I, “the Moors would not venture to lay hands on the wife of a British officer?”
“I would not recommend Mrs Fraser to ride out openly and put the matter to the test,” says Mr Watts, “since even if they were disposed to respect a British officer’s wife, what could be easier than to make her his widow?”
“Oh, sir!” cried Mrs Fraser, starting up from her seat.
“I don’t purpose to assist ’em to do it, madam. I should fancy ’twould be quite possible to smuggle you out dressed as a boy.”
The lady blushed deeply, and was silent, but her spouse interposed—
“Pray, sir, oblige us with some other expedient if you can. That you name is excessively repugnant to Mrs Fraser’s feelings.”
“I’ll take Beeby Fraser in a palanqueen openly through the city and out at the gate,” put in the Tartar, “if she’ll wear a notch-girl’s dress.”
“Who asked you to speak, Mirza Shah?” cried Mr Watts angrily, while a deeper crimson spread itself over the poor lady’s face.
“Sir,” she said to her husband, “I’ll submit even to this frightful degradation, if it be necessary for your safety and that of these gentlemen, but I know you’ll spare it me if you can.”
“I’ll ride out with you openly, madam,” he answered, “before you shall be forced to it.”
“It appears to me,” said I, “though I speak with some diffidence, that we might hope to put in practice successfully a device mentioned by several ingenious authors. Cleopatra, on being denied Cæsar’s presence, caused herself, we are told, to be conveyed into his apartments concealed in a bale of carpets. Without for a moment resembling Mrs Fraser to the too-notorious queen, I think it might be possible to conceal her, when we quit the city to-morrow, among those wadded quilts we use for mattresses.”
“Now, doctor, you talk like a man of sense!” cried Mr Watts. “Your device spares the lady’s punctilio, and avoids endangering her spouse. Are you prepared, madam, to submit to a certain measure of inconvenience for the sake of freedom?”
“Indeed, sir, I am,” she replied.
“Why then, Mr Fraser and Mirza Shah shall carry out the affair. But remember, sir, your lady is Mirza Shah’s care on the journey, and not yours. If you was perpetually hovering about the baggage, the simplest Syke could not fail to discover your secret. Doctor, we owe you many thanks.”
Pray, madam, don’t take it ill in me thus to conclude my epistle with my own praises. Mrs Hurstwood won’t misunderstand me, I’m convinced. The having served her friend, however slightly, will commend to her kindness her most obedient, humble servant,
JNO. DACRE.
(The preceding letter, as well as those written by Mr Fraser, was transcribed, as is afterwards explained, by Mrs Fraser, and sent with her own to her friend Miss Turnor, by whom they were preserved. The curious fragment which follows may be found in No. 17 of the thirty large MS. volumes containing Dr Dacre’s miscellaneous remains. As no transcript of it has been discovered among the Johnson papers, it is probable that the letter was never sent.)
From the Rev. Dr Dacre to Saml. Johnson, Esq., M.A.
MAUDIPORE, June ye 13th, 1757.
MY DEAR SIR,—You will questionless experience some surprise to receive a communication from me out of my usual order, and dealing with none of those important matters to the elucidation of which my present journey is directed, and the surprise will be increased when you are good enough to examine the enclosed Pastoral Piece, belonging to a species of composition never yet attempted by me. It has so chanced, however, that the necessity of inditing to an elegant and virtuous lady an epistle in a somewhat more lively style than ordinary, has inflamed me with the desire of turning to the improvement of others the history of two young persons in whom I have conceived a paternal concern. Remembering my honoured friend’s design of composing at some future period a second series of papers similar in their treatment to his immortal ‘Rambler,’ I have ventured to compile this little anecdote for his acceptance, disguising slightly the names of the persons af