Mr Harley received the formal compliments of this favourite of fortune with the easy politeness which distinguishes the gentleman and the man of letters, and the dignified composure which the consciousness of worth and talents seldom fails to inspire. Mr Melmoth, by his awkward and embarrassed manner, tacitly acknowledged the impotence of wealth and the real superiority of his guest. We were introduced by our stately relation to his wife, the lady of the mansion, a young woman whom he had accidentally met with in a party of pleasure at Jamaica, whither she had attended a family in the humble office of companion or chief attendant to the lady. Fascinated by her beauty and lively manner, our trader had overlooked an empty mind, a low education, and a doubtful character, and, after a very few interviews, tendered to her acceptance his hand and fortune; which, though not without some affectation of doubt and delay, were in a short time joyfully accepted. A gentleman joined our party in the dining-room, whom the servant announced by the name of Pemberton, in whom I presently recognized, notwithstanding some years had elapsed since our former meeting, the man of fashon and gallantry who had been the antagonist of Mr Francis, at the table of my father. He had lately (we were informed by our host) been to Jamaica, to take possession of an estate bequeathed to him, and had returned to England in the same vessel with Mr and Mrs Melmoth. After an elegant dinner of several courses had been served up and removed for the desert, a desultory conversation took place. Mr Pemberton, it appeared, held a commission in the militia, and earnestly solicited Mrs Melmoth, on whom he lavished a profusion of compliments, to grace their encampment, which was to be stationed in the ensuing season near one of the fashionable watering places, with her presence. This request the lady readily promised to comply with, expressing, in tones of affected softness, her admiration of military men, and of the 'Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!' 'Do you not think, Miss Courtney,' said she, turning to me, 'that soldiers are the most agreeable and charming men in the world?' 'Indeed I do not, Madam; their trade is _murder_, and their trappings, in my eyes, appear but as the gaudy pomp of sacrifice.' '_Murder_, indeed! What a harsh word--I declare you are a shocking creature--There have always been wars in the world, and there always must be: but surely you would not confound the brave fellows, who fight to protect their King and Country, and _the ladies_, with common ruffians and housebreakers!'