tenance. She saunters about, and affects to be
diverted by her harpsichord only. What a whimsical thing is Charlotte
Grandison! But still she keeps Lord G---- at distance. I told her an
hour ago, that she knows not how to condescend to him with that grace
which is so natural to her in her whole behaviour to every body else.

I have been talking to Dr. Bartlett, about Sir Charles's journey to
Italy. Nobody knows, he says, what a bleeding heart is covered by a
countenance so benign and cheerful. Sir Charles Grandison, said he, has
a prudence beyond that of most young men; but he has great sensibilities.

I take it for granted, sir, that he will for the future be more an
Italian than Englishman.

Impossible, madam! A prudent youth, by travelling, reaps this advantage
--From what he sees of other countries, he learns to prefer his own. An
imprudent one the contrary. Sir Charles's country is endeared to him by
his long absence from it. Italy in particular is called the garden of
Europe; but it is rather to be valued for what it was, and might be, than
what it is. I need not tell a lady who has read and conversed as you
have done, to what that incomparable difference is owing. Sir Charles
Grandison is greatly sensible of it. He loves his country, with the
judgment of a wise man; and wants not the partiality of a patriot.

But, doctor, he has offered, you know, to reside--There I stopt.

True, madam--And he will not recede from his offers, if they are claimed.
But this uncertainty it is that disturbs him.

I pity my patron, proceeded he. I have often told you he is not happy.
What has indiscretion to expect, when discretion has so much to suffer?
His only consolation is, that he has nothing to reproach himself with.
Inevitable evils he bears as a man should. He makes no ostentation of
his piety: but, madam, Sir Charles Grandison is a CHRISTIAN.

You need not, sir, say more to me to exalt him: and, let me add, that I
have no small pleasure in knowing that Clementina is a lady of strict
piety, though a Roman Catholic.

And let me assure you, madam, that Sir Charles's regard for Miss Byron
(his more than regard for her, why should I not say? since every body
sees it) is founded upon her piety, and upon the amiable qualities of her
mind. Beauty, madam, is an accidental and transient good. No man better
knows how to distinguish between admiration and love, than my patron.
His virtue is virtue upon full proof, and against sen