It is now more than three years since my manuscript has been in my writing desk. Already has time shadowed off a portion of those vivid colours, with which my picture of Farefield Hall then glared. The death of Lady Maclairn this spring, has saddened every heart; whilst, from her dying lessons and calm resignation, have resulted a consolation which all have found useful. Sir Murdoch yielded to Mrs. Hardcastle’s entreaties, to join her in London soon after this melancholy event. Again has she been to him the “angel of peace,” and, with renewed health and spirits, he accompanied the family to Heathcot in June. It is at Heathcot, according to Sir Murdoch’s opinion, that Mrs. Hardcastle must be seen, in order to be justly viewed. I think as he does; for it is here, and here only, that the vivacity and brilliancy of her mind, appear to yield to the satisfactions of her heart. She is always amiable; but _at Heathcot_ she is more placid, more affectionate, and, to use her own words, “never from home.” I conceived, that this was the season for renewing my petition relative to her and Mr. Hardcastle’s letters. I could not succeed. She saw that I was disappointed. “Be comforted,” said she smiling; “I will, if you please, formally announce to the public, what will satisfy half your readers, as well as the best written love letters extant. I can assert, that Horace Hardcastle is still obstinate in error; and that he yet worships the idol formed by his own hand; an acquaintance with its defects, serves only to augment his attachment, for he pretends to find, even in these, grounds for his faith and motives for his love.” “But do you not see?” observed I, “how much my moral must lose in its moral design, by the omission of such letters as yours and Mr. Hardcastle’s? A passion built on so noble a basis!”——She interrupted me. “Enough has appeared,” said she, “to justify my preference and affection for my husband. My principle of conduct is at the service of my sex. The young cannot adopt a better. The moment they know, that every approach to vice and libertinism is contagious, they will shun them, however decorated; and when they know, that by marrying a fool, their own gold will be mingled with an alloy which must sink its value and obscure its brightness, they will be safe, and preserve a heart worthy of a good husband.”