and care; and I will make every concession to his pride that may tend to a reconciliation; for I know he loves me; and he is wretched. As a man and a christian, this is my duty; as the brother of Lady Maclairn, and the instructor of my youth, he has claims on my heart; and I yet hope to see him restored to himself, and the good opinion of the world." I had nothing to say to arguments of this kind: _Philip Flint_ is not _Henry Sinclair_; but it is ten to one that he is the happiest and the wisest man of the two. I must try what wedlock will make of me; for I begin to suspect I want smoothing and trimming. I still feel that the current of resentment would carry me down to the creek plantation, for the sole purpose of kicking this uncle to Margaret's feet. Mrs. Dormer, my fair enslaver, keeps a watchful eye over me, and what with balls, feasts, and her smiles, I am a lost man, though yet a steady friend; and if you give the word of command I will kidnap Flamall, and send him to you for the recompence of his deserts. Yours, most faithfully, Henry Sinclair. P.S. I have not room for my sisters prayers for Mr. Hardcastle's and Miss Cowley's felicity. END OF VOL. II. _J.G. Barnard, 57, Snow Hill._ Transcribers note: Original spelling, including any possible inconsistencies, has been retained.