an find is in
the arms of a man of honour. How naturally, then, should we love the
brave and the generous; how gratefully should we bless the arm raised
for our protection, when nerv'd by virtue and directed by honour!]
Heaven grant that the man with whom I may be connected--may be
connected!--Whither has my imagination transported me--whither does it
now lead me? Am I not indissolubly engaged, [by every obligation of
honour which my own consent and my father's approbation can give,] to a
man who can never share my affections, and whom a few days hence it will
be criminal for me to disapprove--to disapprove! would to heaven that
were all--to despise. For, can the most frivolous manners, actuated by
the most depraved heart, meet, or merit, anything but contempt from
every woman of delicacy and sentiment?

[_VAN ROUGH without_: Mary!]

Ha! my father's voice--Sir!--

_Enter VAN ROUGH._

VAN ROUGH. What, Mary, always singing doleful ditties, and moping over
these plaguy books.

MARIA. I hope, sir, that it is not criminal to improve my mind with
books; or to divert my melancholy with singing, at my leisure hours.

VAN ROUGH. Why, I don't know that, child; I don't know that. They us'd
to say, when I was a young man, that if a woman knew how to make a
pudding, and to keep herself out of fire and water, she knew enough for
a wife. Now, what good have these books done you? have they not made you
melancholy? as you call it. Pray, what right has a girl of your age to
be in the dumps? hav'n't you every thing your heart can wish; an't you
going to be married to a young man of great fortune; an't you going to
have the quit-rent of twenty miles square?

MARIA. One hundredth part of the land, and a lease for life of the heart
of a man I could love, would satisfy me.

VAN ROUGH. Pho, pho, pho! child; nonsense, downright nonsense, child.
This comes of your reading your story-books; your Charles Grandisons,
your Sentimental Journals, and your Robinson Crusoes, and such other
trumpery. No, no, no! child, it is money makes the mare go; keep your
eye upon the main chance, Mary.

MARIA. Marriage, sir, is, indeed, a very serious affair.

VAN ROUGH. You are right, child; you are right. I am sure I found it so,
to my cost.

MARIA. I mean, sir, that as marriage is a portion for life, and so
intimately involves our happiness, we cannot be too considerate in the
choice of our companion.

VAN ROUGH. Right, child; very right. A young