than your conversation; I catch some emanation of your virtue, and am inspired with new convictions of the vanity of the world; my reason gains ground, and my passions subside. I may venture to look grave in your company, but in my present modish of life I dare not so much as put on way an air of thought and reflection, nor seem to have any thing in the earth to do but to amuse myself and the volatile Beings I converse with. You see, if I was wiser than I really am, I should take pains to conceal it, rather than be singular and unfashionable.

I have sent the verses I promised to procure for you.

On BEAUTY.

Victorious Beauty! by what potent charm
Dost thou the soul of all its force disarm!
We bliss our chains, abhor our liberty,
And yield the uncontested prize to thee.
Whether we rafh or calm designs pursue,
Thine is the glorious motive still in view:
For thee we search the wide creation round,
But thou art no where in perfection found;
Some blemish still remains on mortal pride,
And crowding years to airy boasts deride.

Triumphant Beauty sits in Flavia's eyes;
But while we gaze the trembling lustre dies.
Bellair's completely form'd with ev'ry grace,
A faultless shape, and an enchanting face:
In all his motions, each becoming air,
Greatness and native elegance appear:

Careless and free, in Life's deluding bloom,
While envious Death threatens a hasty doom,
Some gentle mistress, full of love and truth,
Shall soon lament the dear unrival'd youth.
Thou lovely fleeting, transitory thing,
From what immense Perfection dost thou spring!
To what complete Original return,

While we thy short appearance vainly mourn!
Howe'er our doating thoughts mistake the way
To certain bliss, thine is a friendly ray
That points the passage to unclouded day.

Ye heav'nly Forms, in all your pomp appear,
And show us what immortal Beauties are,
What life, what rosy bloom, your faces wear!
Put on each smiling grace, and conqu'ring charm,
And all the force of mortal Love disarm:

For still our restless thoughts take glorious aims,
Howe'er seduc'd by these inferior flames;
The leading passion, the supreme desire,
To things divine and infinite aspire.
Eternal Excellence! 'tis only thee
We search through Nature's bright variety
Our eager wishes, with impetuous force,
To thee, unknown, direct their endless course:
'Tis thee we seek and love, for thee we pine;
The powerful charm, the soft attraction's thine ;
To thee these sighs, these tender vows, ascend,
Th' unseen Divinity we still attend;

Sick of these fading toys, our thoughts press on
To joys untasted, excellence unknown.

Thou Great Original of all that's fair,

Whose glories no similitude can bear,
Before the darting splendour of thy eyes

The pride of all created beauty dies?

}

This, I hope, is the latent sense of my soul in all

its motions, though I am not yet so wise as you would have me, nor as I intend to be; but in whatever character you put me, do me the justice to believe I am sincerely

Your's, &c.

LETICIA

LETTER X.

From LYSANDER, giving a relation of the tragical end of his Valet de Chambre.

My Lord,

The

young

Your commands shall be punctually obeyed, whatever reluctance I find to enter on this relation, of which you have been so imperfectly informed. Valet de Chambre, whose story you inquire after, was the same I brought out of France, whom you took some notice of when I met your Lordship in my return to England; where I was received again into my mother's family, my father being in my absence deceased.

I had a young sister about fifteen, of whom I was always exceeding fond, and now thought it my part to see her as advantageously married as her birth and fortune required. After I had spent some time at home I proposed several good matches for her, every one of which she obstinately refused.

This

gave me some suspicion of my Valet, who

appeared to be a handsome youth about eighteen : he had a charming voice, and sung to a lute, which he touched with surprising skill and sweetness My sister loved music, and he was always ambitious of entertaining her. There was no difficulty to discover her inclinations; Truth and Nature appeared in all her actions; but Palanty's conduct was past my penetration: however, I resolved to part with him to prevent my sister's infamy. As dissolute and abandoned as my own manners had been, I had the nicest sense of what would touch her reputation. With a restless mind I was one day walking in my garden, and, turning with some precipitation down a shady alley, I surprised Palanty reading a paper; which suddenly snatching from him, convinced me of my sister's folly.

I took the opportunity immediately to dismiss him; and seeing me resolved, he fell on his knees, entreating me not to expose a stranger in a foreign country; confessing the whole truth, that she was an unhappy woman, the Cardinal of B's niece, who, governed by the dictates of her affection, had followed me in that disguise.

This she told me with a face unstained with a rosy blush, or the least appearance of that modest disorder so natural and becoming her sex. My confusion was much greater than her's; and yet one would not think me over-bashful nor extremely scrupulous with regard to my character. Her

Love triumph'd in her voice, her looks, and mien..
And love in all her fatal form was seen;

A thousand youthful hearts her pow'r obey'd,
And homage to her soft dominion paid:
But thus, in Nature's gayest bloom admir'd,
A penitent she gloriously retir'd:

Her costly ornaments are laid aside,

With all the vain address of female pride :
Her hair neglected, o'er her bosom flow'd,
And charms beyond the reach of Art bestow'd;
A mourning robe she wore, a pensive grace,
And soft Remorse sat on her lovely face;

A vaulted rock for her retreat she chose;
Among the clifts a murm'ring fcuntain rose ;
Here Contemplation, Pray'r, and lofty Praise,"
In solemn order, measur'd out her days;
To Heav'n her vows with early ardour filed,
Before the Sun his morning glories spread;

When from his height he pour'd down golden streams,
Her wing'd devotion met his noon day beams;
'Till in the West with fainter light he shone,
Untir'd, the heavenly votary went on.
The Moon serene in midnight splendour sat,
With countless Stars attending on her state;
The cares and noisy bus'ness of the day,
In rest, and soothing dreams, dissolv'd away;
The drowsy waters crept along the shore,
And shepherds pin'd upon the banks no more:
The trees their whispers ceas'd, the gentle gale
No longer danc'd along the dewy vale;
The peaceful Echoes, undisturb'd with sound,
Lay slumb'ring in the cavern'd hills around;
Faction and Care, and midnight Riot slept,
But still the lovely Saint her holy vigils kept.

lf

you could but find such a convenient habitation as this, it would be to your heart's content: