in petty mystery and intrigue and secrets, and yet trembled at the indignation which these paltry manoeuvres excited in her husband’s mind.  Thus she frequently entered upon a scheme merely for pleasure, or perhaps for the love of contradiction, plunged deeper into it than she was aware, endeavoured to extricate herself by new arts, or to cover her error by dissimulation, became involved in meshes of her own weaving, and was forced to carry on, for fear of discovery, machinations which she had at first resorted to in mere wantonness.

Fortunately the young man whom she so imprudently introduced into her intimate society, and encouraged to look up to her daughter, had a fund of principle and honest pride which rendered him a safer intimate than Mrs. Mannering ought to have dared to hope or expect.  The obscurity of his birth could alone be objected to him; in every other respect,

     With prospects bright upon the world he came,
     Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame,
     Men watched the way his lofty mind would take,
     And all foretold the progress he would make.

But it could not be expected that he should resist the snare which Mrs. Mannering’s imprudence threw in his way, or avoid becoming attached to a young lady whose beauty and manners might have justified his passion, even in scenes where these are more generally met with than in a remote fortress in our Indian settlements.  The scenes which followed have been partly detailed in Mannering’s letter to Mr. Mervyn; and to expand what is there stated into farther explanation would be to abuse the patience of our readers.

We shall therefore proceed with our promised extracts from Miss Mannering’s letters to her friend.

SIXTH EXTRACT

’I have seen him again, Matilda—­seen him twice.  I have used every argument to convince him that this secret intercourse is dangerous to us both; I even pressed him to pursue his views of fortune without farther regard to me, and to consider my peace of mind as sufficiently secured by the knowledge that he had not fallen under my father’s sword.  He answers—­but how can I detail all he has to answer?  He claims those hopes as his due which my mother permitted him to entertain, and would persuade me to the madness of a union without my father’s sanction.  But to this, Matilda, I will not be persuaded.  I have resisted, I have subdued, the rebellious feelings which arose to aid his plea; yet how to extricate myself from this unhappy labyrinth in which fate and folly have entangled us both!