in his eyes, Life and celestial Bloom sat smiling on his face, a wreath of unfading flowers circled his head, and a golden lute was in his hand, whose harmony, joined to his melting voice, far surpassed all description. That tender innocent passion I had long conceived for him kindled at the first interview, and has taken eternal possession of my soul.

But how shall I make you sensible of what an angel's flowing song, in all the pomp of heavenly harmony, would not fully describe! in what figures of celestial eloquence shall I relate the loves of immortal spirits; or tell you the height, the extent, the fulness, of their bliss! All the soft engagements on earth, the tender sympathies, and the most holy union that Nature knows, are but faint similitudes for the sanctity and grandeur of these divine enjoyments; hope and languishing expectation are no more, and all de fire is lost in full and complete fruition: Love reigns in eternal triumph, here it governs every heart, and dwells on every tongue :

They tune their golden harps to the great name
Of Love, immortal Love, their darling theme;
Ten thousand echoes through the lightsome plains
Repeat the clear, the sweet, melodious strains:
The fields rejoice, the fragrant groves around
Blossom afresh at their enchanting sound:

The heav'n of heav'ns, from dazzling heights above,
Returns the name, and hails the pow'r, of Love.

But, oh! when the fair face of eternal Love unveils its original glories, and appears in the perfection of uncreated Beauty, how wondrous, how ineffable, the vision! fulness of joy is in his presence, rapture and inexpressible ecstasy: the fairest seraph stops his lute, and, with a graceful pause, confesses the subject too great for his most exalted strain. How impetuously do the streams of immortal joy roll in, and enlarge the faculties of every heavenly mind!

Ye sacred Mysteries, unrevealed to men; ye Glories, unprofaned by mortal eyes, forgive the bold attempt that would describe you!-The only description that mortals can conceive of you is, that you are not to be described.

DELIA.

LETTER VIII.

To

WHEN you had just made me happy, and rewarded the most tender passion in the world with the possession of your charms, I was compelled to make a voyage to Spain: you saw the inward struggle of my soul, and that I must suffer the anguish of death in leaving you, when you surprised me with the unexpected generous offer to follow me through all

the dangers of the seas. Charmed with the proposal, I took you at your word, and rashly ventured my darling treasure to the hazards of a voyage. I lost my life in your defence against an Algerine Corsair; the cause was just, and met with its approbation in the seats of Peace and Happiness; for my own lot, I could not wish it more advantageous; and for your's, such virtue in distress will be the peculiar care of Heaven. The Barbarian, that made you his prize, treated you with an unaccustomed gentleness; nor has the illustrious Bassa, that ransomed you out of his power at an immense price, given you the least occasion of reproach in the height of his passion he has always observed even the sanctity of the Christian rules, and treated you with a submission very different from the principles and customs of his country. Though he has courted you to increase the number of his wives, he seems to have such an absolute command of himself, even in the warmth of his youthful desires, that you need fear no violence from the generous Infidel: but should the worst you imagine arrive, Heaven has a thousand ways to protect your innocence: depend on that, and let not the extravagance of your grief persuade you that it is lawful to free yourself by the fatal opiate which you keep for that design. The heavenly Genii that attend you have made a thousand impressions on your sleeping fancy to warn you from the desperate attempt; sometimes

you have been led through the desolate shades where unhappy ghosts complain; the gloomy caverns, the abodes of eternal Horror, have been opened to your view: sometimes the rewards of Patience and constant Virtue have displayed their glories to your pleased imagination; and, by the soft inspiring whispers of celestial beings, your restless thoughts have been composed, while the realms of Joy have unfolded their delights in visionary prospects to you by heavenly scenes and gentle slum-" bers your griefs were calmed, the tempest of your passions suspended: then quietly attend the event, and the gentle Calicara will find a way to free you. Till Abubecar saw you, she was his darling slave, and as he is handsome to admiration, she loved, and renounced the Christian faith for him; but still the fair apostate in her heart adores the name which her tongue has denied. This, though you are her rival, fills her soul with the softest compassion for you, and makes her abhor the task that her insolent master has imposed, of persuading you to quit the possession of the heavenly truth, which is your happiness and glory: she is so far from giving you that infernal counsel, that she has, with tears and intreaties, persuaded you to die rather than abandon your glorious hopes and title to immortality; nor will she rest till she has, by some means or other, secured you from Abubecar's

perienced the delusive and bitter consequence.

Your coldness and aversion, with the ascendant her wit and vivacity has on his temper, will soon recover the youthful wanderer, and restore her to an absolute empire over him; and then you are secure of a guiltless protection till you can give your friends in England intelligence of your circumstances, who will soon pay your ransom, which no one can for virtue lost.

In the mean time, if you love my memory, moderate the excess of your grief for my death, which, however tragical it appeared, was glorious and happy for me. I fell in the ardour of a brave action, in the defence of your beauty and liberty, and my own life; the wounds I received gave a free passage to my soul, which took its flight with no other regret than that of parting with you, if it may be called a separation; for I have been your constant attendant in my invisible state, your unseen companion in the beautiful walks and bowers, where you so frequently spend your hours of retirement. I should with pleasure hear you repeat my name, as I often do, and in the softest language express the constancy of a virtuous passion, could you restrain those floods of tears, and be more resigned to the will of Heaven; but let this assure you that I am in the height of happiness, and when your own life is finished, we shall meet to part no more; which circumstance, though you, through your par