On reassuming his composure, he proceeded to inform his daughter, that he had, for nearly a week, been hesitating in what manner to answer an application, which Mr. Freeman, her uncle, had transmitted to his consideration, relative to Horace. “You have, my dear girl, been useful to your father; by your information,” added he, “I shall no longer want resolution. In regard to Miss Cowley, remember that I wish not to interrupt the confidence which subsists between you, nor will I tempt your honesty by a single question. You know the reasons which force me to refuse to your brother an object so worthy of his admiration, and my tender regard. I leave to your prudence to point out the conduct you ought to pursue with your friend; and after you have perused your uncle’s letter, you will be prepared to mention to her Horace’s removal from England.” Poor Lucy felt that virtue had its conflicts in her bosom; and hastily retiring, gave herself up to the regret of having, by her interference, doomed her brother to an undetermined course of banishment. The subject of the letter in question necessarily requires some information relative to the character and situation of the writer, Horace’s uncle. The Rev. Mr. Freeman having succeeded to a village living, of about four hundred pounds per annum, in the vicinity of Exeter, at an advanced period of his life, and with the peculiar habits of a man who had for many years lived in his college, appeared, on settling in his excellent parsonage-house, to have forgotten that “it was not good for man to be alone.” His friends and neighbours frequently reminded him, notwithstanding, that his house was too large for a bachelor, and that he was _losing time_. Mr. Freeman had already experienced the justness of this latter observation; for, with painful regret, it recalled to his memory, that his season for happiness was irrecoverably passed. He had been tenderly attached to an amiable young woman at an early period of his life; and whilst his expectations were undecided in regard to that provision necessary for her security, his talents and conduct soon distinguished him at the university; and, supported by mutual esteem and hope, the lovers looked forwards to happiness. The death of the lady interrupted this calm prospect. Mr. Freeman became a “book-worm,” “a quiz,” and a tutor in his college, who suited no young man of spirit. Notwithstanding this character, he had, with all his singularities to boot, acquired such a reputation for learning, and the happy talent of communicating it, that his friends seemed determined to pursue him to his retreat; and he at length yielded to the plan they proposed, of receiving four pupils under his roof. These were young men whose fathers conceived a couple of years noviciate, passed with Mr. Freeman, fully adequate to the advantages of being freed from the restraints of a grammar-school, for the enjoyment of a fellow-commoner’s gown. Amongst the number of those who had