compromised matters; and the mother and children were placed by him in the family of a Mr. Dalrymple, a Scotchman, whom he had known at the university, in Edinburgh, and who kept a school in Kingston, with reputation. The boys were handsome, promising children; and he had no fears for them, but such as arose from the ignorance and excessive fondness of their mother, whom he always thought unworthy of the place she had held in Mr. Cowley’s heart. It was, however, his intention to send the children to England for education, with his nephew, if he could prevail on the mother to consult their real good. Statements of effects in a general way, and details of his conduct, as regulated by the dying words of Mr. Cowley, in regard to the negroes on the plantations, to whom he had been a father, finish Mr. Flamall’s letter. Mr. Hardcastle, judging of the effects of this letter on Miss Cowley, from the sorrow with which it filled his anxious bosom, and justly apprehending the danger which might result from his “_child’s_” removal to a family devoted to Mr. Flamall’s views, strenuously concurred with Mr. Steadman, in advising Miss Cowley to take such steps as would at least secure her person from Mr. Flamall’s controul. But she was not to be moved in her resolution of complying with his orders. “The future happiness of my life,” said she, “depends on my compliance with this act of usurped authority. He will find,” added she, with an air of triumph, “that in the hands of Providence the vilest instrument is made subservient to the purposes of mercy. I must quit Mr. Hardcastle’s house; I have for some time _wished_ to do so. Yes, I have wished it. I will convince that world which Mr. Hardcastle so much fears, that Rachel Cowley has not been influenced by those who have been her protectors, to prefer Horace Hardcastle for her future guardian. I will shew my independence, and maintain my claims to a choice which virtue sanctions. It is of no moment where I pass this term of my banishment from all whom I love,” continued she, melting into tears. “These people will soon discover, that I am not a girl to be trampled on, and their own advantage will secure to me civility. When I am five-and-twenty years of age, I presume the _world_, as well as the laws of my country, will deem me a free agent; and I should be the first to laugh at an attachment that could not stand my trial of its permanency. It is possible, that in the first instance Mr. Hardcastle’s scruples will yield to his sorrow for my absence, and my own firmness, to some censures of his wisdom and circumspection; but we shall both find consolation in those principles which require the sacrifice of present security and happiness, to a more lasting and greater advantage.” Mr. Hardcastle, unequal to the conflict, retired, not daring to trust his integrity with so irresistible a pleader.