to whom it is addressed, for it generally happens that such person discovers he has been deceived, as well as rejected. It is very seldom that young men, to whom it would really be improper that a lady should give her hand for the short time occupied in one or two dances, are admitted into our public places; but, in such a case, could not a reference be made by her, to any friends who are present; pride and vanity too often prompt the refusal, and, because the offered partner has not sufficiently sacrificed to the graces, is little versed "in the poetry of motion," or derives no consequence from the possession of rank, or riches, he is treated with what he must feel to be contempt. True politeness, which has its seat in the heart, would scorn thus to wound another, and the real votaries of sincerity would never so violate its rules to escape a temporary mortification."

I shall only add that I have entire unity of sentiment with the foregoing extract.

Here I beg leave to insert a short Tale, illustrative of Lies of Convenience.

PROJECTS DEFEATED.

THERE are a great many match-makers in the world; beings who dare to take on themselves the fearful responsibility of bringing two persons together into that solemn union which only death or guilt can dissolve; and thus make themselves answerable for the possible misery of two of their fellow creatures.

One of these busy match-makers, a gentleman named Byrome, was very desirous that Henry Sanford, a relation of his, should become a married man; and he called one morning to inform him that he had at length met with a young lady who would, he flattered himself, suit him in all respects as a wife. Henry Sanford was not a man of many words; nor had he a high opinion of Byrome's judgment. He therefore only said, in reply, that

he was willing to accompany his relation to the lady's house, where, on Byrome's invitation, he found that he was expected to drink tea.

The young lady in question, whom I shall call Lydia L-, lived with her widowed aunt, who had brought her and her sisters up, and supplied to them the place of parents, lost in their infancy. She had bestowed on them an expensive and showy education; had, both by precept and example, given every worldly polish to their manners; and had taught them to set off their beauty by tasteful and fashionable dress; that is, she had done for them all that she thought was necessary to be done; and she, as well as Byrome, believed that they possessed every requisite to make the marriage state happy.

But Henry Sanford was not so easy to please. He valued personal beauty and external accomplishments far below christian graces and moral virtues; and was resolved never to unite himself to a woman whose conduct was not entirely under the guidance of a strict religious principle.

Lydia Lwas not in the room when Sanford arrived, but he very soon had cause to doubt the moral integrity of her aunt and sisters; for, on Byrome's saying, "I hope you are not to have any company but ourselves today," the aunt replied. "Oh, no; we put off some company that we expected, because we thought you would like to be alone;" and one of the sisters added, "Yes; I wrote to the disagreeable D-s, informing them that my aunt was too unwell, with one of her bad headachs, to see company;" "and I," said the other, "called on the G- -s, and said that we wished them to come another day, because the beaux, whom they liked best to meet were engaged." "Admirable!" cried By"Let rome, women alone for excuses!" while Sandford looked grave, and wondered how any one could think admirable what to him appeared so reprehensible. "However," thought he, "Lydia had no share in this treachery and white lying, but may dislike them as I do." Soon after she made her appearance, attired for conquest;

so radiant did she seem in her youthful loveliness and grace, that Sanford earnestly hoped she had better principles than her sisters.

Time fled on rapid wings; and Byrome and the two elder sisters frequently congratulated each other that "the disagreeable D -s and tiresome G-s" had not been allowed to come, and destroy, as they would have done, the pleasure of the afternoon. But Lydia did not join in this conversation; and Sandford was glad of it. The hours passed in alternate music and conversation, and also in looking over some beautiful drawings of Lydia's ; but the evening was to conclude with a French game, a jeu-de-société which Sanford was unacquainted with, and which would give Lydia an opportunity of telling a story gracefully.

L

The Ls lived in a pleasant village near the town where Sandford and Byrome resided; and a long avenue of fine trees led to their door; when, just as the aunt was pointing out their beauty to Sanford, she exclaimed, "Oh dear, girls, what shall we do? there is Mrs Carthew now entering the avenue! Not at home, John! not at home!" she eagerly vociferated. "My dear aunt, that will not do for her," cried the eldest sister; "for she will ask for us all in turn, and inquire where we are, that she may go after us." "True," said the other, "and if we admit her, she is so severe and methodistical, that she will spoil all our enjoyment." "However, in she must come," observed the aunt; " for, as she is an old friend, I should not like to affront her."

Sandford was just going to say, "If she be an old friend, admit her, by all means;" when on looking at Lydia, who had been silent all this time, and was, he flattered himself, of his way of thinking, he saw her put her finger archly to her nose, and heard her exclaim, "I have it! there, there; go all of you into the next room, and close the door!" she then bounded gracefully down the avenue, while Sandford, with a degree of pain which he could have scarcely thought possible, heard one of the sisters say to Byrome," Ah! Lydia is to be trusted; she tells a white

lie with such an innocent look, that no one can suspect her." "What a valuable accomplishment," thought Sandford, "in a woman! what a recommendation in a wife!" and he really dreaded the fair deceiver's return.

She came back, "nothing doubting," and, smiling with great self-complacency, said, "It was very fortunate that it was I who met her; for I have more presence of mind than you, my dear sisters. The good soul had seen the D -s; and hearing my aunt was ill, came to inquire concerning her. She was even coming on to the house, as she saw no reason why she should not; and I, for a moment, was at a loss how to keep her away, when I luckily recollected her great dread of infection, and told her that, as the typhus fever was in the village, I feared it was only too possible that my poor aunt had caught it!" "Capital!" cried the aunt and Byrome! "Really, Lydia, that was even out-doing yourself,” cried her eldest sister. "Poor Carthew! I should not wonder, if she came at all near the house, that she went home, and took to her bed from alarm!"

Even Byrome was shocked at this unfeeling speech; and could not help observing, that it would be hard indeed if such was the result, to a good old friend, of an affectionate inquiry. "True," replied Lydia, "and I hope and trust she will not really suffer; but, though very good, she is very troublesome; and could we but keep up the hum for a day or two, it would be such a comfort to us! as she comes very often, and now cannot endure cards, nor any music but hymn-singing."

"Then I am glad she was not admitted;" said Byrome, who saw with pain, by Sandford's folded arms and grave countenance, that a change in his feelings towards Lydia had taken place. Nor was he deceived; Sandford was indeed gazing intently, but not as before, with almost overpowering admiration, on the consciously blushing object of it. No; he was likening her as he gazed, to the beautiful apples that are said to grow on the shores of the Dead Sea, which tempt the traveller to pluck and eat, but are filled only with dust and bitter ashes.

"But we are losing time," said Lydia; "let us begin our French game!" Sandford coldly bowed assent! but he knew not what she said; he was so inattentive, that he had to forfeit continually; he spoke not; he smiled not; except with a sort of sarcastic expression; and Lydia felt conscious that she had lost him, though she knew not why; for her moral sense was too dull for her to conceive the effect which her falsehood and want of feeling, towards an old and pious friend, had produced on him. This consciousness was a painful one, as Sandford was handsome, sensible, and rich; therefore, he was what match-seeking girls (odious vulgarity!) call a good catch. Besides, Byrome had told her that she might depend on making a conquest of his relation, Henry Sandford. The evening, therefore, which began so brightly, ended in pain and mortification, both to Sandford and Lydia. The former was impatiant to depart as soon as supper was over, and the latter, piqued, disappointed, and almost dejected, did not join her sisters in soliciting him to stay.

"Well," said Byrome, as soon as they left the house, "How do you like the beautiful and accomplished Lydia?"—"She is beautiful and accomplished; but that is all."—" Nay, I am sure you seemed to admire her exceedingly, till just now, and paid her more animated attention than I ever saw you pay any woman before.""True; but I soon found that she was as hollow hearted as she is fair.". "Oh! I suppose you mean the deception which she practised on the old lady. Well; where was the great harm of that? she only told a white lie; and nobody, that is not a puritan, scruples to do that, you know."

"I am no puritan, as you term it; yet I scruple it; but, if I were to be betrayed into such meanness, (and no one perhaps can be always on his guard,) I should blush to have it known; but this girl seemed to glory in her shame, and to be proud of the disgraceful readiness with which she uttered her falsehood.""I must own that I was surprised she did not express some regret at being forced to do what she did, in order to prevent our