afterwards. But vanity is the weakness of _your sex_,--and these are
mere foibles that I have related to you, and, provided she never
molested me, I should look upon them as follies very excusable in a
woman.

But I am now coming to what must shock you, as much as it does me,
when she has occasion to lecture me (not very seldom you will think no
doubt) she does not do it in a manner that commands respect, and in an
impressive style. No! did she do that, I should amend my faults with
pleasure, and dread to offend a kind though just mother. But she flies
into a fit of phrenzy, upbraids me as if I was the most undutiful
wretch in existence, rakes up the ashes of my _father_, abuses him,
says I shall be a true Byrrone, which is the worst epithet she can
invent. Am I to call this woman mother? Because by nature's law she
has authority over me, am I to be trampled upon in this manner? am I
to be goaded with insult, loaded with obloquy, and suffer my feelings
to be outraged on the most trivial occasions? I owe her respect as a
Son, But I renounce her as a Friend. What an example does she shew me!
I hope in God I shall never follow it. I have not told you all, nor
can I; I respect you as a female, nor, although I ought to confide in
you as a Sister, will I shock you with the repetition of Scenes, which
you may judge of by the Sample I have given you, and which to all but
you are buried in oblivion. Would they were so in my mind! I am afraid
they never will. And can I, my dear Sister, look up to this mother,
with that respect, that affection I ought? Am I to be eternally
subjected to her caprice? I hope not--; indeed a few short years will
emancipate me from the Shackles I now wear, and then perhaps she will
govern her passion better than at present.

You mistake me, if you think I dislike Lord Carlisle; I respect him,