Make my compliments to every one I love.  Mr. and Mrs. Reeves are of the number.

Charlotte, I hope, is happy.  If she is not, it must be her own fault.  Let her know, that I will not allow, when my love to both sisters is equal, that she shall give me cause to say that Lady L——­ is my best sister.

Lady Olivia gives me uneasiness.  I am ashamed, my dear Dr. Bartlett, that a woman of a rank so considerable, and who has some great qualities, should lay herself under obligation to the compassion of a man who can only pity her.  When a woman gets over that delicacy, which is the test or bulwark, as I may say, of modesty—­Modesty itself may soon lie at the mercy of an enemy.

Tell my Emily, that she is never out of my mind; and that, among the other excellent examples she has before her, Miss Byron’s must never be out of hers.

Lord L——­ and Lord G——­ are in full possession of my brotherly love.

I shall not at present write to my Beauchamp.  In writing to you, I write to him.

You know all my heart.  If in this, or my future letters, any thing should fall from my pen, that would possibly in your opinion affect or give uneasiness to any one I love and honour, were it to be communicated; I depend upon your known and unquestionable discretion to keep it to yourself.

I shall be glad you will enable yourself to inform me of the way Sir Hargrave and his friends are in.  They were very ill at Paris; and, it was thought, too weak, and too much bruised, to be soon carried over to England.  Men!  Englishmen! thus to disgrace themselves, and their country!—­I am concerned for them!

I expect large packets by the next mails from my friends.  England, which was always dear to me, never was half so dear as now, to

Your ever-affectionate
Grandison.

END OF VOLUME 4