affection or generosity, he contented himself with performing his duty, and providing against the consequences so unavoidably connected with Mr. Cowley’s absence from his child. He well knew, that without the reciprocal acts of love and duty, the ties of consanguinity would be feeble. He had daily proofs that Miss Cowley was little affected by the protracted promises contained in her father’s letters; that her happiness was centered in the bosom of his family, and that the thought of being separated from it, never occurred as within the line of probability. Every means of prudence had been applied to obviate this evil. Conversations had been purposely appointed, to keep up in her memory “her dear father,” his affection for her, “his sacrifice of his comforts for her benefit.” “His generosity and amiable temper” were traced with minuteness; and her petitions to Heaven included mercies for a parent, so justly entitled to her duty and love. These lessons of wisdom had not been lost on the docile heart of the child. She listened with pleasure to these tales of her “good papa,” and forgot him when clinging to her “mamma Hardcastle.” As she advanced in age, Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle more assiduously attended to the views before them; and with the entire persuasion of their own minds, that the time was rapidly approaching, when Mr. Cowley would recal his daughter, they endeavoured to prepare her for the summons. To this intent, Mrs. Hardcastle sometimes read to her extracts from her mother’s letters, in which she described the natural beauties of Jamaica; the society she had met with; the estimation in which her husband was held; her own amusements and happy life; and the activity and benevolent cares which supplied to her husband an indemnification for the absence of his London friends. Unacquainted with disguise, Miss Cowley left no doubt on Mrs. Hardcastle’s mind as to the impressions which these letters and her conversations produced. Anxious wishes for her father’s settling in London, and a declared repugnance to living in Jamaica, were the constant result of these attempts; and it was now become necessary to call upon a reason sufficiently cultivated to yield an assent to every argument of duty. Alarmed by an earnestness which she considered as immediately springing from Mr. Hardcastle’s knowing her father’s intention of recalling her home, she wrote to him a letter expressive of her fears, and to implore him to leave a country in which _she_ should be miserable. The reply to this letter is before me. Mr. Cowley assures his daughter, that he has no intention of endangering her health and safety in a voyage to him, nor any plans before him which will remove her from the protecting arms of “her dear Mrs. Hardcastle.” He thus proceeds: “The habits of many years have made my avocations pleasurable: indecision and indolence stand in the way of your wishes and my own views; yet I hope to be with you next year in your dear foggy island. Be