MR. VILLARS TO EVELINA.

EVERY wish of my soul is now fulfilled-for the felicity of my Evelina

is equal to her worthiness!

Yes, my child, thy happiness is engraved in golden characters upon

the tablets of my heart; and their impression is indelible: for,

should the rude and deep-searching hand of Misfortune attempt to

pluck them from their repository, the fleeting fabric of life would

give way; and in tearing from my vitals the nourishment by which they

are supported, she would but grasp at a shadow insensible to her touch.

Give thee my consent?-Oh thou joy, comfort, and pride of my life, how

cold is that word to express the fervency of my approbation! Yes, I do

indeed give thee my consent; and so thankfully, that, with the humblest

gratitude to Providence, I would seal it with the remnant of my days.

Hasten then, my love, to bless me with thy presence, and to receive

the blessings with which my fond heart overflows!-And oh, my Evelina,

hear and assist in one only, humble, but ardent prayer, which yet

animates my devotions: That the height of bliss to which thou art

rising may not render thee giddy, but that the purity of thy mind may

form the brightest splendour of thy prosperity!-and that the weak

and aged frame of thy almost idolizing parent, nearly worn out by

time, past afflictions, and infirmities, may yet be able to sustain

a meeting with all its better part holds dear; and then, that all the

wounds which the former severity of fortune inflicted, may be healed

and purified by the ultimate consolation of pouring forth my dying

words in blessings on my child!-closing these joy-streaming eyes in

her presence, and breathing my last faint sighs in her loved arms!

Grieve not, oh child of my care! Grieve not at the inevitable

moment! but may thy own end be equally propitious! Oh, may'st thou,

when full of days, and full of honour, sink down as gently to rest!-be

loved as kindly, watched as tenderly, as thy happy father! And mayest

thou, when thy glass is run, be sweetly, but not bitterly, mourned by

some remaining darling of thy affections-some yet surviving Evelina!

ARTHUR VILLARS.

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