their graves. I make no comments on this anecdote: I only wish to contraft it, by placing before you the revered and venerable Mrs. Sinclair, now in her eightieth year, feated in her eafy chair, to which she has for years past been paffively conducted by her affectionate and affiduous friends, who furround her with refpectful attention, and eager intereft to profit from her still animated and elegant conversation, in which wisdom and goodness prefide. We become neither faints nor finners, my dear Eliza, by any fudden impulfe of the mind: there is a time when, in regard to all, you may fay with the poet, Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, But this ftate of moral rectitude will not fuffice to keep off the incroachments of vice. She is too fubtle to fhow at once all the horrors of her undisguised and appalling front. It is by filent and infidious approaches under borrowed forms that fhe gradually VOL. II. с gradually prepares the mental eye to meet her without terror. It is by petty trefpaffes on reafon and confcience that the renders herself familiar to the view. It is by small fteps that fhe leads mankind to confound the fimple and unerring voice of truth, and prepares them for her future open and daring triumph. Virtue takes the fame progreffive march. She yields not to the cowardly and indolent candidate her gracious influences: these must be fought refolutely, diligently, step by step. The purpose of becoming virtuous must be sustained by active endeavours, by vigilance, and by the conviction that we seek that which will recompenfe our labours. This is the price of every thing worth attainment; and your fimple reafon will acknowledge that the purpose of our existence, the bafis on which reft all our hopes of happiness here, and acceptance hereafter, is an object which exceeds all others. Be then prepared to meet the difficulties which you will encounter in your attainment of it. Your fuccefs depends on felf felf-denial and and felf-command. It is by little combats that the volunteer for glory acquires ftrength and courage for more ardu ous trials. Shall I not truft my candidate for glory?....Yes, and with cheerful hopes. Be not therefore surprised that I do not interdict from the occasional amusement of card you playing. At my entrance into the world, I had heard all that prudence could advance in support of an abfolute prohibition of cards, and all that ingenuity could produce in their favour. My opinions were not decided by either of thefe arguments. I knew that the whole business depended on my estimating the question according to its precise value. I was a member of fociety, and my power went not beyond the control of my own actions. Custom has privileged this recrea ation, and as a recreation I had only to qualify it. I discovered that under this point of view it contained nothing for me to dread; for real and unaffected virtue is not auftere, but with good-humoured ease can quit 1 quit her throne to folace the weak child of mortality, can smile at its toys and sports, whilst her guardian hand upholds its feeble fteps. I prescribed then certain limitations from which I have never yet been tempted to deviate; and I play at cards, when called upon in fociety, on exactly the fame principles which produce my cheerful compliance with the taste and humour of thofe to whofe amusement I give up any other portion of my time. I was once, and only once, put to the trouble of explaining these principles. Soon after my marriage I met at Bath a very elegant and agreeable woman, who, like myfelf, had lately changed her name. She appeared rather more new to the world than myself, and was I believe younger. We became much acquainted, and often met in public parties. One evening, at the rooms, a gentleman brought me a preffing invitation from Mrs. S to make one at an unlimited loo table fhe was forming for the duchefs of. In polite and decided terms terms I fignified that it was a game at which I never played; and, with compliments, fent him back to the card-room with this negative. In a few minutes Mrs. S was at my elbow, and with an air of much concern concluded her repeated requeft by faying, "Surely, Mrs. Palmerstone, you will not refufe the duchefs! She fent me exprefsly to folicit your company." I smiled, but with seriousness gave her to understand that I was under the government of an authority which would not yield to any title. I repeated my negative with firmness, and with fewer excuses. "Do you play unlimited loo, madam?" faid Mrs. Sto my fair friend, who was leaning on my arm. "No," faid I with quickness: "this lady means to dance. You must not disappoint Mr. Palmerstone," added I, seeing the flush of vanity on her cheek.-"I do not think," replied fhe," that we fhall fee either of our husbands to-night: the gentlemen when at Bristol, you know, left it undetermined.” "In that cafe, then," cried Mrs. S, you |