Miss Mortimer never took part in our disputations, not even by a look. "How can you" said I to her one day when he had just left us, "suffer such opinions to be advanced without contradiction ?”

"I am afraid of losing my temper," answered she with an arch smile; " and that I am sure is forbidden in terms more explicit than Mr Sidney's heresy."

"And would you have me," cried I, instantly sensible of the implied reproof, "seem to approve what I know to be false."

"No my dear," returned Miss Mortimer; but perhaps you might disapprove without disputing; and I think it is not obscurely hinted by the highest authority, that the modest example of a Christian woman is likely to be more convincing than her arguments. Besides, though we are most zealous in our new opinions, we are most steady in our old ones; therefore I believe, that, upon consideration, you will see it best to ensure your steadiness for the present, and to husband your zeal for a time when it will be more likely to fail."

When I was cool, I perceived that my friend was in the right; and, by a strong effort, I thenceforth forbore my disputes with Sidney; to which forbearance it probably was owing, that he soon after became my declared admirer.

CHAP. XVII.

Shift not thy colour at the sound of death!
For death

Seems not a blank to me; a loss of all

Those fond sensations,-those enchanting dreams,
Which cheat a toiling world from day to day,
And form the whole of happiness it knows.
Death is to me perfection, glory, triumph !

THOMSON.

SIDNEY'S Overtures cost me some hesitation. They were unquestionably disinterested; and they were made with a plainness rather prepossessing to one who had so lately experienced the hollowness of more flowery profession. Nothing could be objected to his person, manners, or reputation. Miss Mortimer's ill health rendered the protection I enjoyed more than precarious. Honourable guardianship, and plain sufficiency offered me a tempting al

ternative to labour and dependence. But I was not in love; and as I had no inclination to marry, I had leisure to see the folly of entering upon peculiar and difficult duties, while I was yet a novice in those which are binding upon all mankind. Sidney had, indeed, by that natural and involuntary hypocrisy which assumes for the time the sentiments of a beloved object, convinced me that he was of a religious turn of mind; and from his avowed heresies I made no doubt of being able to reclaim him; but he wanted a certain masculine dignity of character, which bad, I scarcely knew how, become a sine quá non in my matrimonial views. These things considered, I decided against Sidney; and it so happened, that this decision was formed in an hour after I had received a long and friendly letter from Mr Maitland.

Now this letter did not contain one word of Maitland's former avowal; nor one insinuation of affection, which might not, with equal propriety, have been expressed by my grandmother. But it spoke a strong feeling for my misfortunes; a kindly interest in my

welfare; it represented the duties and the advantages of my new condition; and reminded me, that, in so far as independence is attainable by man, it belongs to every one who can limit his desires to that which can be purchased by his labour.

"I see no advantage in being married,” said I, rousing myself from a reverie into which I had fallen after the third reading of my letter. "Mr Maitland can advise me as well as any husband could; and in ten or a dozen years hence, I might make myself very useful to him too. I might manage his household, and amuse him; and there could be nothing absurd in that after we were both so old."

"Not quite old enough for that sort of life, I am afraid," said Miss Mortimer, smiling. If, indeed, Mr Maitland were to marry, the woman of his choice would probably be an invaluable protector to you."

"Oh he won't marry. I am sure he will not; and I wonder, Miss Mortimer, what makes you so anxious to dispose of all