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Title: The Pharos. A Collection of Periodical Essays. By the
	   Author of Constance. Volume I, an electronic edition
Author: Mathews, Charles, Mrs., d. 1802
Publisher: 
Place published: 
Date: 
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THE PHAROS
NO I. TUESDAY, NOV. 7, 1786.Comme les hommes ne se degoûtent point du vice, il ne
faut pas aussi se lasser de le leur reprocher: ils seroient
peut-être pires s'ils venoient à manquer de censeurs ou
de critiques; c'est ce qui fait que l'on prêche & que l'on
écrit.LA BRUYERE.THE writer of a periodical paper is officially a censor of public
manners, and as such, is frequently more the object of dread than of
love: he is considered as incessantly purveying for his work,
sagacious in discovering and industrious in noting obliquities of
cha
character, and when once known, is shunned as a spy and informer. For this reason, and that he may not defeat his purpose of observation by freezing his beholders into petrifaction, concealment is necessary to an author of this class: he must envelope himself in eternal shades, unless his labors effect that stupendous change in the human heart which shall incline it to love what it is painful to suffer.To speak in my own person--against all fear of detection I am
abundantly fortified by the consciousness that I shall not rouse
curiosity: I have not humility enough to think I than want readers:
the utility and convenience of my productions will soon be manifest ;
and a lady or gentleman will no more submit to the operations of a
friseur, without the
consolatory aid of my paper, than a kinght-errantknight-errant would undertake an adventure without invoking his mistress;
but
but yet I do not expect such approbation as will make my patrons uneasy while they are ignorant of my name.It may probably be asked by those to whom chance may direct the
following sheets, what could be the incentive to an undertaking of
this kind, in an age replete with publications of a similar nature, so
excellent as to afford no hope of surpassing them, and so
comprehensive as scarcely to have left any thing to be said by a
subsequent writer. By some I shall be censured for presumption, by
others for vanity. I shall, no doubt, be reminded that the talents of
Steele and Addison, of Johnson and of Hawkesworth have at different
times been exercised in the same species of composition: if they have
succeeded in the endeavor to instruct and amend, what remains for me
to do? If they have failed, who shall hazadhazard another attempt?AsAs I foresee the charge which will be brought against me, I am
prepared to meet it, and to vindicate myself from the imputation of
presumption by declaring that though I wish to leave the world better
than I find it, I have at no time entertained an opinion that
reformation of manners is reserved for my pen's atchievement. Nor can I be justly accused of vanity as I never shall claim any praise vouchsafed me, and the keenest sagacity will be defeated in search of one.It now remains to explain my undertaking, and to divulge my intentions. And first, I am to make good my title.A Pharos, every one knows, is nothing more nor less than a light-house, whose benefits are chiefly calculated for the service of the sailor: its flame is intended to warn him from the shoal and the rock; and thus, by his super-added knowledge, it proves a guide to safe an-
chorage
chorage, or contributes to the safety of his voyage. In life, a friendly monitor of this kind is no less useful: few, who compare the world to a sea, feign it a pacific ocean: it is by its best friends acknowledged not only exposed to the storms, but likewise to every danger of the deep: whirlpools, quicksands, promontories, and shallows perpetually oppose the voyager's way, and miserable indeed is he if deprived of light and warning.In one particular I confess my work resembles not a Pharos. It is not placed in a conspicuous situation, consequently the orbit of its rays will be much confined. But let this be no discouragement: it pretends to illuminate no boundless ocean, but its light may be seen timely enough to avoid every danger it intimates. It will instruct all who, in a heady endeavor after safety, appeal to its power; for however partially
it
it may direct its flame, or however dimly it may. burn, still shall be visible to the mariner this important monition, that he can no longer hope for security than while he sails by the chart of scripture and the compass of reason, towards that new undiscovered country, where all his labors than end, and a final remuneration avails him.But as in one particular I own my Pharos deficient, so in another I
hope it will excel its archetype: its light shall be to none
terrific. I cannot promise it will ever blaze into admirable
brightness, nor that I can always preserve more than a lambent flame;
but a friend of mine, a very ingenious artist, has promised
occasionally to amuse the beholders with a few corruscations, which, if well-timed and applied, may obliterate or obtain toleration for any natural defects in my edifice.TheThe method by which I shall endeavor to serve those who resort to my light for counsel, will not be always the same. In some cases it may be most useful to render the dangerous body luminous: in others I may do more good by directing a few rays to the shipwrecked vessel or mariner. To him or his vessel will always be found attached a scroll containing the history of his fate, an attentive perusal of which is all the impost I exact. Sometimes I shall warn by pointing out the errors of other voyagers who still vainly beat the waves, and sometimes shall endeavor to make manifest to those I guide that no nautical skill, nor the best applied exertion, can aid them if they steer towards an inhibited port.Having now informed my readers of the engine I mean to use, it is fit that I make them acquainted in some measure with the temper, disposition, and views
that
that shall regulate and direct its powers.Can I hope those who encourage me by their attention, will believe that however conspicuous I may render vice and folly, I indulge no malignant spirit! I may perhaps be less lenient to that fashion which stamps new characters and blends contrary properties, than the world in general are, for I assert the privilege of thinking for myself. I cannot condemn or approve with apathy, but I never yet dipped my pen in gall, nor would I point out, to observation, the frailties of my fellow-creatures, were I not convinced that morality is injured by the forbearance.That no one may complain of being unfairly surprised in their follies, I here give this preliminary notice, that the flame of my Pharos possesses an uncommon property. Nothing is a security from its rays; it can penetrate into the most obscure places; no building, no
tiling
tiling, roof, or ceiling of any kind, is a defence against it. Should a lady or gentleman meet or pay a visit to any acquaintance or friend, I advise all of the party to be cautious in their behavior; for a few of my ignited particles may be blended with the solar beams, and I may, by that means, know all that passes. At a card-table I warn all the players to observe strictly not only all the laws of honesty but of decorum, for their wax candles probably burn by my aid. Thus
I frequently partake of a partie
quarrée, a tête-à-tête at piquet, or a game at mirth-inspiring loo; and as I am possessed of a wonderful degree of sagacity, whetted by the necessity of providing, twice in a week, a mental repast for my readers, I can in a moment discover the passions by which those I observe are agitated or governed. Every church window admits. this perforating, light, and reflects the objects to me: ladies are
there
therefore requested, if they would avoid my censure, to visit that place sans rouge: their eyes mull be restrained, and their countenances composed: they must not talk of last night's opera, or next Thursday's concert, nor make future engagements: they must join decently and devoutly in the worship they assist at, and leave all solicitude about their dress and admirers at home or in their carriages. Those few gentlemen who attend divine service mutt postpone ogling the beauties till they meet them in a more fit place: their boots and riding-canes, I would advise them not to assume till their return home; since, in my opinion, a previous preparation for pleasure is not the best employment of the short space between rising and church-time, and besides, this extreme readiness argues some little impatience of the duty to come to perform.WhenWhen I say I can direct the flame of my Pharos to any object, I
would not have it understood that I use this power in its full extent;
there are many rocks, within the scope of its limitation, which it
never than bestow its beams on; there are many haunts and habitations
into which it never shall penetrate. It shall never controul the efforts of those Syrens who would allure their fellow voyagers to ruin, in the unfashionable gulf of infidelity, any otherwise than by shewing the comforts of settled faith; the blasphemous Socinian, the feud-fomenting Arian, and the superstitious Manichean may enjoy their heretical opinions. To, all their endeavours I oppose the consolatory promise of an all-powerful divinity, that the gates of Hell than not prevail against his religion.
With politics I shall never intermeddle. I have but one opinion respecting. them, and that inclines me equally to,
all
all parties. The disinterested exertions of real patriots shall ever have my best wishes, but my paper shall not be the instrument either of promoting tyranny or inciting faction.The haunts and habitations, which I shall leave in their natural
opacity, are such as have before admitted the presence of sin in her
original emmitigated state,
for though many of the foibles I develope may be the produce of her cultivations, yet not having her deep-stained hue, they rank in a less odious class, and are too frequently found in minds that would abhor positive wickedness. Guilt is, I fear, proof against any exposure I could make of it; and, from using its Medusa's head as a means to raise horror and detestation, I am deterred from a doubt of the success of this practice. It is with me a very strong objection to some of our most celebrated periodical papers, that in order
to
to warn the inexperienced from vice, its features and actions are so portrayed and described as to communicate information that can never be useful in the degree it is pernicious. Ignorance is a much safer bulwark against vice than any initiation, however well-designed or guarded; let us aim at strengthening and supporting infant virtue, and she will soon introduce an abhorrence of her enemy; our pupils will then be virtuous, not out of fear of the punishments they are to apprehend from the seducer, but on the noble principles of love and steady attachment to her under whose auspices they hope for happiness.My fair friends may therefore read, without apprehension, that the next paragraph may call a blush to their cheeks--they may read without fearing that the ensuing story will explore the recesses of vice and libertinism, or that,
under
under a specious appearance, they are imbibing poison.To those who, with a laudable desire of putting into the hands of young persons whatever can tend to their advantage, are curious to know how far the conductor of this work may be trusted, it is necessary to say, that no subject, no sentiment, no expression, no word shall be admitted, which can militate against their endeavors; they shall find no tales that can stir up passion against reason, no immorality palliated, nor any weakness of the judgment excused by fashionable sophistry.Such is the plan of this work, and such the manner in which it shall be executed; what may be its success is problematical: if it is kindly received, I shall hope I have added one to the many amusing and instructive books this age has furnished; if it is neglected, the absence of ambition will render disap-
point
pointment tolerable. And, above all, I shall be comforted. by reflecting, that I can incur little respectable censure, for, to tie honor of my contemporaries be it said, they are ever disposed to patronize every attemptTo please by scenes unconscious of offence,By harmless merriment or useful sense.JOHNSON.No. II. SATURDAY, NOV. 11, 1786.My humble spirit waits your social hand.ANN YEARSLEY.WHEN I had resolved on personal concealment during the publication of there papers, I began to fear it would injure my work by discouraging correspondents. Five or six of my intimate friends I knew I could rely on for their occasional aid; but as I wished to present my readers with variety, I cast about for a way to attract contributions. This care I have reason to believe will prove needless, for from the many applications made to my book-seller since Tuesday, I am persuaded I shall have abundant communication. Many persons, I hear, approve my plan, and think my paper will be a good vehicle for their sentiments on
various
various topics, Others say, it will afford a delicate means of well-intentioned accusation, as they can covertly intimate to their relatives or friends any foible that tends to the uneasiness of others. One young lady, I am told, offered an essay, and another seemed comforted that she had now an opportunity of gratifying her desire to appear in print, without being known.As I did not expect this encouragement, I had not instructed my publisher to accept it: this omission I therefore here supply by returning my thanks to all who thus honored me, and by assuring them I shall, with alacrity, substitute their labors for my own, provided the productions sent to me conform to the outline I have already given of my plan, and that I am never made responsible for slander. Whatever is amusing or instructive, gay or serious, elegant or
simple, if it be innocent, shall find a
place
place in my papers:--subjects of learning deserve a better situation, and would be leis acceptable than any I admit, because I expel the fair sex will furnish me most readers:--such of them as have acquired considerable literature wish now and then to relax their minds by works that require no painful stretch of attention; they therefore might be offended to find the subjects they had just quitted in weariness again presented to their eyes:--and such ladies as have confined their researches to the common circuit of information, seldom hope to find an author very gravely profound.The inclination my volunteer correspondents professed, has operated in two ways on me; it gives me hopes of rendering my Pharos more particularly useful than I imagined I could make it, and it flatters me with the prospect of success in the general intention of my undertaking, as I am now almost certain
of
of being able to furnish a variety distinguished, whenever I print the spontaneous compositions of my new friends, by genius and elegance.Should I not be deceived in my expectations, I shall present myself to my readers every Tuesday and Saturday while I remain in the metropolis, which probably will extend my periodical existence nearly to the conclusion of the approaching session of parliament. During that time every contributory morceau left for the Pharos, with that universal disseminator of literature Mr. HOOKHAM of New Bond-street, will be carefully forwarded, and respectfully attended to.Answers to the Messages and Queries, sent and delivered to the Publisher.To the Lady who asked if I would give some imitations of Sterne's man-
ner
ner, I answer that few imitations have merit, that I wish to please by
originality, but that if I were inclined to imitation, I should not
chuse to copy Mr. Sterne, either in his life, his morality, or his style.The elderly Gentleman who so vehemently combated my resolution to avoid political subjects, need not be angry: I had rather see his prediction, that my work would not do without them, fulfilled, than embroil myself in contests, or blow up the sparks of sedition.The right honorable Countess who enquired if the Pharos would prove as excellent as the Mirror, is respectfully informed, that in the nature of things it cannot be; fore even should the abilities of the volunteer essayists be equal to those of the Mirror's correspondents, still the conductor's part would debase
the
the work far below that justly applauded standard.The young Lady with fair hair and blue eyes, who, in the author's hearing, desired Mr. Hookham to tell him she would not give a pin for the Pharos, unless it contained stories that would make her cry, and laughed immoderately while she spoke: may rest satisfied, that if, like the philosopher of old, she is inclined to weep at the follies of mankind, the plan of the Pharos promises her abundant amusement.I would advise the Stripling who demanded to be told whether there would be any fun in the Pharos, to spend his time rather in reading the writings of Smollett or the "Probationary Odes."The Lady who wished it could be written in French, is intreated to remember it is published in London.ToTo Satisfy the many who have enquired whether it will be a sentimental work, I confess I know not the meaning of the term--a work without sentiment it would be difficult to produce, therefore I do not think this will be so. If, by sentimental, they intend that vice-varnishing cant that is used to recommend the substitution of frailty for integrity, I can promise this work will be far from sentimental.Nothing that is not honest can gain admittance into this
paper--unmerited praise is not honest--therefore no puffs can gain
admittance.No III. TUESDAY, Nov. 14, 1786.The prize belongs to none but the sincere.COWPER.MY readers and myself, are, I trust by this time, tolerably well acquainted, at least sufficiently so to render superfluous any further ceremony. I shall therefore lay before them a notification, which it may be of importance to them to receive early: it is chiefly designed for the perusal of the ladies; but as many fathers, husbands, and brothers are fond of testifying their regard to the females of their family, by purchasing gifts for them, both sexes are interested in the following advertisement which I print verbatim as it came to my hands:WHEREASWHEREAS this is unquestionably an œconomical age, and duchesses spend mornings in search of bargains, it perhaps will be deemed serviceable to such ladies as love to have their penny-worth for their penny, if they are informed where they may be certain of buying, at a very inconsiderable expence, some inestimable habiliments and decorations.They are therefore hereby given to understand, that when the town is at the fullest, during the next setting of parliament, there will be an auction of an antique wardrobe bequeathed by a lady of great quality, lately deceased, to her grand-daughter, with an injunction never to be prevailed on by the intreaties of any one, to part with it, or any articles in it; which circumstance obliges the legatee to sell it, the dowager certainly having no antipathy to that mode of conveyance, as neither the word sale nor auction occurs in her will.BeforeBefore the lots are particularized, it is necessary to mention that nobody living ever remembers any one of these articles being publicly worn; for which reason they ought to be much esteemed, as by a little judicious alteration or addition they may be made appear quite modern, and if they are named after some celebrated frail, or balloon-flier, they will doubtless attract public admiration. Another circumstance to be remarked is, that if kept with care, they will be liable to no misfortune or decay: time, so far from injuring them, will. render them more capable of duration: and, betide this important recommendation, they possess another still more valuable; they can never become common: the vulgar may pretend to imitate them, but the counterfeit will be easily distinguished from the original.LOTLOT I.THE VEIL OF MODESTY. A most beautiful and becoming ornament, intended to be fastened to the back part of the head dress, and to hang over the face and neck. Its particular qualities are, that it reflects a lustre on all good actions, it makes an indifferent face agreeable, heightens real beauty, and is an effectual preservative from many mental disorders.LOT II.THE ROBE OF CHASTITY. Quite white, plain, but of exquisitely fine texture. Some India traders who once saw it, allowed it to exceed any muslin ever imported, but thought it too tender to be worn, which circumstance must recommend it to those ladies who enjoy dragging ten pounds worth of chintz up and down St. James's Mall, especi-
ally
ally when they are told that nothing can injure this graceful garment if worn
with the sandals of Discretion hereafter described, and that its singularity, when once it is admitted, will always make it admired. Its properties are, that it always directs the affections to proper objects, and that no lady who wears it openly will be pestered with licentious conversation.LOT. III.THE MANTLE OF DECORUM. This, though it has an antiquated name, is no other than a very becoming cloak, fit for any season of the year. Notwithstanding it is adapted to all weathers, it is transparent. A fine shape is seen to great advantage through it, and its color sets off the complexion admirably. The wearer will never be at a loss how to behave to superiors, equals or inferiors: it will teach her when to smile
or
or to look grave; and it is particularly friendly to such ladies, if any such there be, who doubt their quantum of good sense.LOT IV.THE CESTUS OF HONOR. Cerulian blue, studded with gold. It has, at the
pendent end, a fringe of a very uncommon sort, called Integrity, and is singular in this respect, that it fastens on each fide of the waist with two resplendent jewels; the one a present from Justice, the other the gift of Love. The beauty of this cestus is not to be described or imagined. It has been in the family many ages, and is said to be
that Venus wore, with some additions made about the time of our Queen Elizabeth. It diffuses over the whole person an air of graceful dignity. The possessor of it will never be at a loss to pay tradesmen's bills. If purchased
by
by a single lady, she will never feel any temptation to an expedition to Gretna, Green with her footman. A married lady, who should be the happy mistress of it, would always prefer her husband to the most accomplished libertine in the world. No promise was ever broken, no secret ever divulged, nor was an intrigue or divorce ever thought of by the successive possessors of this elegant ornament. To prove its efficacy it may not be impertinent to observe, that since the present owner resolved to part from it, and sent it to the auctioneer's, lest by frequent sight of it her resolution. should be shaken, she has spent in a ratio of ten to one of her income, and cannot now venture out lest her mantua-maker should arrest her: beside this, her windows have been twice broken by the friends of ladies to whose husbands the had made advances.LOTLOT VTHE BRIDLE OF FORBEARANCE. A plain ribbon of a most delicate hue,
intended to reach from the top of the head, down each side of the
face, to the chin, where it ties. in a bow. It forms a fine outline to
a well-turned face, and is an infallible preservative against many
errors; it prevents satire, slander, ridicule, taunting, hard
speeches, and excess in words of every kind. Many an indifferent
husband has been charmed into virtue by its power: the peace of many
families has been preserved by it: it spares the wearer a vast deal of
trouble, and saves her lungs amazingly, as it removes all necessity of
scolding servants, &c. for natural defects or inevitable ignorance.LOTSLOTS VI and VII.THE STOMACHER OF PATIENCE and THE BREAST-KNOT OF MEEKNESS. These it has been found difficult to separate without injury: they will therefore, as forming one ornament, be put up together; and it is not doubted that the lady to whom they may be knocked down will approve of the junction, as the stomacher was never known to fail in alleviating misfortune, and the breast-knot has the property of making blessings preponderate against afflictions.LOT VIII.The next. article. is as singular as it is beautiful. THE BOUQUET OF SINCERITY, composed of the finest flowers produced in any climate, which will retain their lustre and fragrance as long as the owner's thoughts and words go together. Should any lady, having this
in
invaluable bouquet in her bosom, be prompted to profess friendship, esteem, admiration, or any other passion or inclination she .does not feel, she will immediately perceive the flowers droop, and will, by that signal, be warned to correct her speech. Thus she will avoid the sin of deceiving, and be spared the inconveniences resulting from the practice of flattery, and the misery of reflecting that she has raised hopes she did not mean to gratify.LOT IX.THE SANDALS OF DISCRETION. These are to the feet what the Bridle of Forbearance is to the tongue. No lady wearing them can be abroad when she ought to be at home, nor dance so long as to injure her health they prevent the effects of late hours, and thereby preserve health and beauty.LOTLOT X.THE BRACELETS OF BENEFICENCE. These are unerring monitors in the article of donation: they will, of themselves, incline a lady to with-hold her subscription from masquerades, ridottos, &c. &c. and teach her the exquisite pleasure of relieving merit in distress.--That no one may have reason to complain of imposition, it is here acknowledged that these bracelets were for some time lost out of the family, and. that for the right hand, named Liberality, was so exactly copied by many ladies of high rank and large fortune, that it is now thought to possess no uncommon, power: that named Prudence, designed. for the left hand, was recovered before many imitations were made.LOTLOT XIThe last article of dress in this curious wardrobe, is the most
magnificent and valuable, but without the preceding decorations it
will not be worn to advantage, nor will any spectator believe the
jewels which form it are real. This is THE CORONET OF PIETY. It is
composed of finer stones than ever were dug out of the earth, and has a celestial radiance which nothing can equal. It
gives dignity and sweetness to the countenance, and if carefully worn, and kept
bright, will supply the place of all wit, learning, and accomplishments. It takes from the possessor all painful passions, and inspires the mind with such calm joy as no earthly possessions can give. It will likewise attract universal love, insure satisfaction through life, and mitigate even the sufferings of pain and
sick
sickness. To use the words of a living orator and poet, it
'In chains, in torments, pleasure can bequeath,'And dress in smiles the tyrant hour of death.'

Surely no price can be thought adequate to such a treasure! but yet, as an inducement with ladies to become purchasers in this sale, the proprietor has instructed the auctioneer to make a present of it many person who will bid, to the extent of their ability, for all the other articles with a sincere intention of wearing them. And to this gratuitous donation she has likewise ordered to be added, in case any lady buys the whole collection, the glass at which these decorations must be put on, calledLOT XII.THE MIRROR OF CONTENT, which will convince the possessor that how-
ever
ever dearly she may have bought some articles, she has made a very advantageous purchase, even should she have spent her last guinea at this sale; for this mirror will preclude all anxiety, furnish an inexhaustible source of new delights, and convert afflictions into blessings.Timely notice of the day and place of sale will be given.No IV. SATURDAY, NOV. 18, 1786.Nil erit ulterius, quod nostris moribus addatPoiteritas: eadem cupient facientque minores.JUVENAL.HOWEVER manners and customs may appear to degenerate or change, we
have reason to believe that virtue and vice, and all their fainter
shades, remain unalterably the same: the number of persons endowed with the one, or infected by the other, may be greater or less in different centuries, but the honest man and the knave of our day, are as much like those who flourished with our progenitors as the present race of animals or natural productions of the earth are like those our ancestors fed on. No one supposes Fabricius's turnips were things different from ours; nor have the patriotic Ro-
man
man geese ever been denied the modern form and properties. From this permanency it arises, that in the writings of the ancient. moralists and satirists we often find portrayed the manners of our own times, the excesses or defects of our contemporaries, and often, would self-love acknowledge it, a mortifying similarity comes still nearer to our bosoms.The characters of Theophrastus have been remarked on as in some sort prophetic; but I fear few persons regard them in any other light than that which shews a whimsical casual resemblance, or turns them on their friends and neighbors. What so experienced a judge as this venerable author deemed responsible, I wish all concerned in his various censures would account so; particularly let the conversationists and how d'ye do visitors of the rising generation attend to the following sketch, which he inti-
tles
tles, 'Of the, Garrulous, or Talker on 'Nothing;' in translating which I will take no other liberty than that of substituting for references to local, temporary, and consequently obsolete customs, such as are familiar to us.He says, 'A silly love of prating is the offspring of an habit of speaking much without reflection. A prater finding himself seated next a person he never saw before, begins at the outset to entertain him by talking of and praising his own wife; then tells him his dream, and gives him a tedious account of a feast he was at without omitting a single dish. When he grows warm in conversation, he declaims against the present age, and asserts, that men are every day degenerating; from thence he digresses to the dearness of provisions; remarks on the number of foreigners who are flocking to the city, and foretels, that,
when
when the frost breaks the Thames will be navigable: then he observes, that a little rain would be very seasonable, and give hopes of a plentiful harvest; declares how he means to cultivate and dispose his land next year, and repeats, that times are hard, and that a man has now much ado to live. He next informs his unknown intimate, that Damippus's equipage was the finest at court; asks how many pillars support the roof of the opera-house; and what day of the month it is--tells him that the preceding night his stomach was disordered; and, if the person he talks to has patience to hear him, he does not let him off so: he announces, as news, that the parliament will meet in January, adjourn at Easter, and rise some time in June.--With such people there is but one course to be taken, which is, to shun them as the plague,
for
for what else can be done with impertinents, who know no season and attend no one's leisure?'Now who that reads this description with attention, would believe,
that with only the substitution of the Thames
for the Sea; the equipage of Damippus at
court, instead of his splendor at the feast of
Ceres; the parliament for the rites of Bacchus
and Ceres; this is a portrait drawn from the manners of Athens,
by a native of Lesbos, who flourished three hundred and fourteen years
before the christian ærra!The folly Theophrastus here tacitly censures, obtrudes itself daily on our view: it is almost impossible to pass half an hour in the company of three or four of there praters, without hearing similar and often the identical impertinence, and if it is, as it seldom fails of being at all blended with vulgarity or, ill-breeding, it is intolerable. Our au-
thor
thor has given to the features of this latter character, some touches that are
inimitable. He describes his man of rustic manners, as inattentive to decorum in his garb and deportment, as being reserved and uncommunicative to his friends, familiar with his servants, and relating to the meanest of them, what had passed in a popular assembly:--as never admiring any thing really curious, but standing still to gaze on an ox, an ass, or a shaggy goat. A person of this class, he says, has always a great dog lying under the table, he calls him--takes him by the chaps, saying--This is he that watches us and guards our house. These gentry are very troublesome in receiving money: they never suppose the guineas one gives them weight, or conceit them bright enough: they mull therefore be changed.--They will stop people in the street, to enquire how they sell fish, and if they buy any,
will
will carry it home themselves in broad day-light.A similarity thus observable between ancient Athenian and modern London manners, proves that no propensities of the mind become obsolete; and the censure implied in the exhibition of these characters, shews, that human opinion, when well founded and unbiassed, will, in all ages and all civilized countries, be the same. Cicero's Offices, though superseded by the beneficent Institutes of Christianity, are as applicable to us, as to him for whole edification they were intended, and will remain standing testimonies that the law, promulgated by the Gospel, has its basis in nature and reason. In reading Plutarch, our censure and applause generally agree with his; his morality is our's. The Manual of Epictetus, the Tablature of Cebes, the Meditations of Marcus Antoninus, may at this day be read with advantage. Numberless other instances
might
might be adduced to prove the immutable properties of good and evil, and the uniformity of opinion discoverable in the first and latest writers on the subject of ethics.Happy would it be for us, if we could emancipate our reason from
the usurped dominion of custom, and steadily guide our practice by the
light of this truth, that however modish levity or scepticism may
palliate what is wrong, or oppose what is right, that opinion, which
stamps our actions, can never change or err; that like water, all
moral qualities will, when uninfluenced, find their own level; like
gold, however casual or local plenty or scarcity may depreciate or
raise its value, every action will retain an average worth; and that,
in the revolution of time, some moment intervenes when the standard is
fixed, and the irrevocable fiat, even of terrestrial judicature, will
consign our characters to fame or to oblivion.No V. TUESDAY, Nov. 21, 1786.I hold the glassTo all, promiscuous as they pass.MOORE.SHOULD the stream of contribution flow as rapidly as it issues, I shall have no reason to complain of the labor of my undertaking: my friends shall this day cater for my readers.SIR,I HEARD a very learned gentleman the other day remark, that the present generation of well-educated English people of both sexes, speak and write their native language with propriety and elegance.--Pray be so good as to inform him (for I cannot get cou-
rage
rage to speak to so profound a scholar myself) that I am often asked, by ladies distinguished for their accomplishments, these questions:--Do you dress your own hair?--Did you make your own cap?--Do you write your own music?--Do you draw your own patterns? &c. &c.Now, Sir, you know as well as I do, that those who thus misstate
their enquiry, mean to ask if I do the action, they describe, myself, and that were I to answer them correctly, I
should say--It is my own hair I dress,&c.I saw to-day, in the news-paper, an advertisement of instruments,
with which a gentleman might clean his own
teeth; but literature is not expected in a shopkeeper; and as it is it
the province of a gentleman to clean the teeth
of others, there was little danger of a mistake.I am, SIR,
Your humble Servant,MYRTILLA.SIR,HAVING frequent occasion to beat the pavement of London, many things attract my observation which escape the notice of the studious and recluse. Amongst the rest, I remark the indiscriminate use of the adjectives new and old, as terms of recommendation by shop-keepers: --the old bell and the new bell summon an equal number of tipplers:--the new coffee-mill professes to serve as well as the old, and so on in a variety of other instances. In short, our hopes of fair dealing and civil usage are equally raised by either epithet: from the old, we expect the advantages of long-established trade, and from the new, the assiduity and other good qualities which attract resort, so that the recommendations, being apparently of the same force, seem to loose their effect. But
an
an attentive investigator of the motives that prompt mankind will discover a circumstance which will enable him to ascertain the merits of each pretender, and will find in this trivial competition, a means, if not of rewarding integrity, at least of discouraging deceit. A shop or other house of public resort is opened, and a trade must be drawn to it: the proprietor, in the true spirit of plebeian generosity, affixes to his house the designation of a well-accustomed shop of the same class in his neighborhood, with an inscription under it, denoting that it is the new, whatever the sign may happen to be: then, by the help of foppish decoration, extravagant lights, and servile civility, he exerts himself in the honest endeavor to cut the ground from under his neighbor's feet; and having just sagacity enough to discover that caprice always acts in favor of novelty, and that there is a rank of customers
with
with whom the attractions of his house will prevail against old-fashioned, and perhaps uncourtly honesty, it is ten to one but he succeeds.Having long been convinced, that this is the principle and practice of upstart traders, it is my rule to lay out no money in there fascinating repositories, many of which indeed resemble illuminated grottos, and Cytherean caves, and are furnished with a Calypso, struck up to draw custom. I will never in any way countenance that industry, which has imposition for its object. The man, who to deceive ignorant buyers, put out the sign of the Hog's head in the porridge-pot, next door to an established ironmonger, who for many years had used that whimsical one of the Dog's head in the porridge-pot, never had either my aid or my wishes for his success ; nor do I ever feel my heart warmed with that philanthropic notification
which
which informs me that Mr. Congo is, by his respect for the public,
induced to fell teas at a price he must lose by, or that Messieurs
Dimity and Diaper are the only people who furnish the town with linen
at a just price.--Arts like these are below honest traders, and should
only be understood as beacons to warn us of danger.Your's &c.T.T.MY. DEAR FRIEND,AS in our tête-à-tête yesterday, you
said your work was open to any hint for the benefit of society or individuals, be so good as to spare me half a page to vent my anger in. You know my daughter is not deficient in genius and accomplishments: I therefore bid her exert her talent for composition in your service, which she very readily
pro
promised, and as readily performed, by filling a sheet of paper, but written in such a plaguy scrawl, as I defy any body but her lover to decypher. I made her transcribe it, and was convinced that, by negligence, she had entirely loft the power of forming the characters in their proper shape, and that I must never hope the would write as well as she did when she had learnt but a few months. To excuse, or rather to justify herself, she produced to me many letters from her female correspondents, and, to say the truth, no better written than hers. Lest you should imagine she had never had any education, I burned her letter, and than improve this occasion by desiring you, in force way or other, to tell the young ladies of the present age., that there is nothing impresses one with a stronger idea of female assiduity, attention, and good sense, than a sheet of paper written in
pro
proper language and well formed characters. It is of the same use as beauty to set off virtue, all can judge of the one, but without this attractive, the other often (too often) passes unnoticed.Your's,IRATUS.SIR,IT occurred to me the other day., when I dined at the house of a friend who has. many children, that we had done well in rejecting the use of those nick-names, by which it has long been the custom to express infancy or fondness; such as Bobby, Sammy, Tommy, Polly, Betsy, Sophy, &c. &c. &c. Young people are now called as they are baptized, and a vast many foolish ,contradictions and diminutives are expunged from our nomenclature vocabulary; but I am at a loss to account for the rise of the fashion (for a fashion it certainly
is)
is) for fathers and mothers to speak of and to their eldest daughter
by the style and title of miss, with the addition of the family surname. It founds in my ears rather formal, and not very affectionate: indeed I believe I should have been prejudiced against the custom, had it been ever so proper, when I heard my friend's wife thus ceremonious to her daughter, and yet uniformly addressing her husband by the too familiar appellation of Dick.Your sincere well wisher,OBSERVATOR.Mr. PHAROS,I WISH you would warn the patrons of the imitative arts, that they are doing very ill in encouraging painters and engravers to design and perpetuate a sort of prints now much in request: I mean scenes from such histories and novels as present subjects for the danger-
ous
ous passions to work on, and while they delight the eye, infuse a
subtle poison into the heart. Situations from the story of Abelard and
Heloisa (a legend better forgotten than remembered, notwithstanding
Pope's fine epistle) others from that most abominable ferrago, 'The
Sorrows of Werter', and from various books of the like pernicious
kind, are now every where obtruded on our sight, and rendered so
attractive by their intrinsic excellence, that their evil tendency is
forgotten; and yet I would rather furnish my daughter's dressing-room,
or my son's chambers with such prints as oblige every decent person to
withdraw their eyes, than with these elegant decorations; for open and
avowed immorality at once shocks and disgusts every liberal mind, but
the grossest vice veiled with art and tricked up in external
loveliness is rendered seducing.A FATHER.No VI. SATURDAY, Nov. 25, 1786.How are the powers of genius misappliedCOWPER.IT was ever a favorite maxim with my old friend, PETER STEADY, that any thing might be accomplished by perseverance:--an opinion certainly capable of producing much good, but which experience daily proves, not free from evil. He was, from his early youth, strongly attached to learning; and, by the aid of this firm persuasion, acquired a very high rank amongst the literati of Europe: but he was not content with possessing all the same that could adhere to his own character: he had three sons whom he wished to acquire the same sort of reputation, and finding, to his infinite joy, that Provi-
dence
dence had not denied them ability, he determined they should be scholars. It was not his design that all should excel in the same branch of literature; he meant their excellence to be various, but equal, and would often talk himself into a heat, when he described to me the pleasure he promised himself in hearing one commended as the ablest greek scholiast of the age, another as the best mathematician, and the other as understanding, in the fullest extent perfection, all the ramifications of natural philosophy.--'And why should they not arrive at these honors?'--said the anxious father 'they do not want capacities: they shall not want an instructor:--all I ask is application; and this I will make as easy to them as possible, by keeping at an equal distance from them vice and pleasure.'With this fixed resolution, Mr. Steady retired into a sequestered part of Eng-
land,
land, where was nothing to divert the attentonattention or to excite a wish. Without waiting for the appearance of any symptoms of genius, or consulting the bent of his children's inclinations, any farther than allowing the two eldest their choice of the three elected branches of learning, he began his arduous work, and continued in the prosecution of it till his youngest son had attained the age of nineteen, when death, by ending my friend Peter's cares, robbed him of the felicity he had so long labored for, and emancipated his three scholars from their rural confinement.As London was the theatre on which their father designed to exhibit their talents, they repaired hither on his decease, and as I was his oldest friend there, to me devolved the office of Cicerone and master of the ceremonies. My curiosity was hardly ever more awake than to see what performance and intense ap
pli
plication had atchieved, and I therefore with great patience and alacrity waited near half a day at the inn where the stage-coach was to deposit them. Imagination can hardly conceive the grotesque appearance the young gentlemen made:--nothing but the difference of age distinguished them:--they had the same mein, the same gait, the same phrase and accent:--their cloaths were made with regimental similarity:--each had a little brown bob wig, a hat formed into an equilateral triangle, and every other article of accoutrement as stiffly  hors de la mode.What was uncouth in their habiliments, a short time and a little exertion corrected: their deportment was not inflexible, and discovering that their attainments were as far beyond the generality of scholastic acquisition, as their mode of education had been different from the common one, I began to think
Mr.
Mr. Steady had brought to pass what he had projected. I. accordingly submitted to the consideration of the young men, the manner in which they should develope their various knowledge to the world, and likewise referred it to them to chuse the way by which their wealth might be extended to a competency; for that care, however important, had never occupied their father's serious attention: by making them scholars he made them famous--riches followed fame--and his sons were ideally-provided for.On enquiry of the eldest, I learnt that intense application had so debilitated his constitution, and impaired his organs, that some time must elapse before he could prosecute his, studies; and the opinion of a physician, whom increasing ailments obliged him to consult, declared, that a total renunciation of laborious reading was the smallest
price
price at which he could purchase health. This was a grievous mortification to my Greek critic, who had in hand, a work that would admirably make his debut, and which it still required two years attention to fit for the press. He had inherited a large portion of his father's enthusiasm, and chagrin was to be the reward of his labors.The second son, who had chosen natural philosophy as his field, had submitted rather patiently than willingly to the fetters of literature: perseverance had done much, and I predicted him a future Priestley or Walker, till on closely examining him as to the course of emolument he meant to adhere to, he with great modesty told me, that whatever I advised he would follow; but that he could never be thoroughly ,pleased with his profession, unless he was allowed to chuse that of history painting.--He produced to me some
spe
specimens of his drawing, done at casual opportunities, or when he could abridge his sleep, and they determined me to use my, interest for him in the way Nature had pointed out.My youngest charge, to whose lot mathematics had of necessity fallen, and
who had perforce, and with disgust, drudged in this branch of science, did not express a predilection for any one art or profession: he was a lively young man, and seemed more than either of his brothers to enjoy his liberation: he answered my query as to his intentions for a provision, by saying, he could not immediately settle his mind, but would satisfy me in a short time.--An accident
determined him.--In crossing Blackheath we were by chance spectators of a royal review.--My spark was in raptures at the sight--'That,' cried he, shall be my trade--put me in the way to get a commission.'--Finding
this
this inclination, though suddenly planted, deeply rooted, I referred him to a friend, and the young mathematician may be seen, almost every noon in the spring, lounging the Mall.The lapse of a few months settled my old friend's children in their various professions: a curacy of fifty pounds a year, in a situation where his learning can be of little use to him, has provided for my Grecian:--the natural philosopher in an enthusiastic pursuit of his beloved art, which probably for some time will not pay the expences of color and canvas, is endeavoring to forget the rigors of his youth;--and mathematics have hitherto procured the votary of Mars little other honor than the nick-name of Euclid, with which, and the scantly pittance of an ensign, he. must yet rest contented.Thus has the toil of many years been thrown away. The time which should
have
have been devoted to acquiring some useful occupation has been waisted in pursuits, in one instance detrimental, in two futile; for had Mr. Steady attended to the constitutional ability of his eldest son, or consulted the inclinations of the two younger, he would have perceived, that however fair the blossom, the plant he forced could bear but little fruit. And however laudable the unremitted, endeavors of a parent to enroll a son on the records of fame, it is folly to do it at the expence of a child's ease or happiness; and still more absurd is it to make him an object of envy, if he is to be left in a state of pecuniary dependence.Many a good farmer or mechanic has, been spoiled by the attempt to make him a scholar. The hand will in general be found a, member more useful to the community than the head, and perhaps, even if the attempt succeeds, the
world.
world does but exchange manual labor, subject to little error, and capable of much good, for idle speculations or sceptical crudities:--does the project fail, 'tis a thousand to one the young man, though he cannot construe a line of Virgil, remembers the company he kept while his abilities were in doubtful trial. and he will no longer associate with handicraftsmen, or lend his aid in his father's calling.--If he cannot read Virgil, he can drink and roar: his old schoolfellows, My Lord, and Sir John, are always glad to see him, and with them he may be found in all forts of licentiousness: he was their fag at school:--he has stood many a flogging for them, and is now sufficiently rewarded by their intimacy.No more than an argument, founded. on false premises, can ever be supposed juft in the conclusion, can an education, pursued from motives of selfishness or
vanity,
vanity, be expected to prosper. Nature often kindly points out the
road the would have us take, and will aid us to overcome all
difficulties we meet with in it, but she will neither be compelled or
thwarted. When genius or inclination is very strong, it should, if
possible be indulged; but where a child discovers no particular bias,
it certainly can be no injury to him to chuse for him the profession
or trade most useful to himself or others; surely no judicious parent
would take this absence of choice for a signal to place his son in a
situation, where, if he is not what his want of attachment
demonstrates he never will be, he must be useless and his fortune
ruined.No VII. TUESDAY, NOV. 28, 1786.Celui qui dit incessamment qu'il a de l'honneur et de la probité, et qui jure pour le faire croire ne fait pas mème contrefaire l'homme de bien.LA BRUYERE.THE following essay is the first attempt of a young female pen, in this species of composition, and as such it begs the reader's indulgence. I was desired to fit it for publication, but I am no friend to the practice of embellishing. If one person writes, and another corrects, it is impossible for those who read to judge of the author's merit; and, besides this, our own ideas are always best expressed in our own words.There is, I believe, hardly any vice whose folly, absurdity, and unprofitableness have been more frequently or
less
less successfully demonstrated than that of swearing. I shall not attempt to effect what the wisest and best endeavors have failed in; but shall make a few observations on a minor kind of it, which has become nearly of general use, and into which many young people are betrayed, for want of seeing its impropriety, and by thinking it becoming in some, from whose mouths prejudice has made it appear to flow with peculiar grace and energy.The error I would mark is, that of prostituting the asseverations upon my honor and upon my life, to the ordinary purpose of convincing. The former may sometimes be used, not only innocently, but with propriety and dignity; but the latter, however custom may have reconciled our ears to it, is morally indefensible in those who believe a supreme and absolute Disposer of the lives of all his creatures. Lest I should ter-
rify
rify my readers by the appearance of sermonising, I will forego all the arguments in favor of simplicity of conversation, to be drawn from that inestimable code of laws left us by him who thought and found the labors of a whole life inadequate to the eradicating our evil propensities, and shall only remark on this custom as inimical to our social in interests.As it is in the power of every one to make their word pass for its value, those who frequently use any higher asseveration may not uncharitably be supposed to have lost the common implicit credit which mankind pay to each other where it is merited; but they deceive themselves grossly if they imagine they can, in any way, repair the deficiency. I cannot think myself under any greater obligation to believe him who pawns his life, which is not his to forfeit; or his honor which he must first prove to be
worth
worth taking; than him who assures me ,on his word, and reminds me, that it is the most valuable pledge an honest man can give.Upon my honor is sometimes becomingly used, but rarely in a woman: the Peer is supposed to swear by it, as the most sacred of his possessions: the soldier may make it, by his conduct and his value of it, the last conviction required; but the honor of a lady is still more serious, and if that humility which teaches that feminine judgment is fallible, form a part of her character, she will never draw into question that which it is worse than death to lose. I do not say no instance can occur in which a lady can safely protest upon her honor: she may on an emergency, with proper solemnity, and without any impeachment of her delicacy; but the occasions are so few, that life may be passed without their arising.I wishI wish all who can judge, especially my fair country-women, would
in this and all other points chuse before they adopt, and then, surely whatever is improper or indelicate would be expunged from their language: they would then see that it is as foolish to assert upon their lives as to stake Lord Betwell's horse, or Sir Harry Bongout's sword, since they have no property in either, and therefore if they lowe cannot pay, and I hope none will go so far as to insist that they never found themselves mistaken after they had offered this pledge:--what a foolish figure would they make were the forfeit demanded.Before I conclude, I must remark, and it is with sorrow I find it necessary, that since our camps and military preparations to oppose our belligerent neighbors have inspired our lovely females with Amazonian order, they have, for the public cause, neglected their
private
private interests, and while with their fathers, husbands, brothers,
and lovers, they have undertaken the defence of our island, they have
lessened our stock of collective merit, and contaminated themselves
with the vices of those whose virtues are little addition to their
own. From Warley and Coxheath, I am sorry to say, a greater cargo of
strong expressions was imported by the ladies
than they ought ever to have even heard; and the gay ideas connected
with the remembrance of their being uttered, gave a goût that recommended them; so that it is no
longer uncommon to hear a lady, whose external attractions excite
almost superstitious adoration, protesting by her maker's name, or
pledging that incorruptible part of her, which Mahomet, perhaps,
thought it a favor to suppose women without, to prove the most
insignificant assertion that the trifles of female œconomies can give occasion to.ThoseThose who have gone such lengths I regard as incorrigible, since no woman can shake off the whole of her delicacy in an instant, and, to adopt this praise, requires a degree of deliberation and effrontery, which renders the heroine scarcely worth reforming for this world: a more serious repentance than the light argument of an essay can work, must bring her back to the path she has quitted. I therefore give her over, and shall only observe, that the brandy-bottle and this vice are too nearly allied to be supposed separable, and that nothing would so soon convince me that a lady had recourse to the exhilaration of liquor, as her assuring me on her immortal part, that she never tasted any thing stronger than tea.If what has been urged is insufficient to my purpose, let not the cause but the advocate be blamed. I will substitute intreaty for argument, and beg my
fair
fair readers only to think for themselves, and to bestow five minutes in the consideration of this increasing blemish. That sterling good sense which, I hope, will ever be found amongst them, and which is now rendered so amiable by education, will shew them that this vice is in itself and its consequences dangerous and alarming; and as from the higher ranks, hairdressers and footmen, milliners and cookmaids have learned to protest 'pon their lives, and 'pon their honors. I trust a reformation will soon pervade all classes, and that they will no more be suspected of contemning the laws of omnipotence, or of uttering what they do not understand.No VIII. SATURDAY, Dec. 2, 1786.Ev'n the soft sorrow of remember'd woe,A not unpleasing sadness may bellow.Miss H. MORE.HARDLY any office of humanity or friendship requires so much discretion in the exercise, or is so difficult to execute as that of consolation. People not only see but feel so differently that it is dangerous to suffer our own sentiments to guide us, if we would render our condolence acceptable: we must first learn how our friend estimates the misfortune we deplore, and then accommodate our sympathy to the degree of sensibility we meet with.But even this rule which gone would imagine by inclining us to become all things to all men, would at least save us from offending any, is often fallacious, and
may
may draw on us the dislike it was intended to avert, for there are
persons who, though destitute of tender feelings, .are so conscious of
their necessity ,in the formation of an amiable mind, as to be driven
to counterfeit them; and yet these very persons, supposing themselves
but like the generality of the world, will brand with the name of
hypocrisy the compassion their situations excite. I have known many a
widow half angry at the farce of etiquette, which debarred her from
the pleasures of the world; and at her friends, for not understanding
her better than to teaze her by expressions of sympathy:--numbers have laughed in private at the compliments of condolence they were forced to receive:--nay some have been so honest as to chear their friends, by saying they hoped a little time would remove the oppression of their spirits, and that they should be
able,
able, when the gloomy ideas connected with a funeral, were dispelled, to enjoy a little society again: this experience has taught me to regard as a hint, that the first opportunity will be seized for a relaxation of dress, and then a card for a party will not be ill-accepted.--It would look like affectation in me, says one, to go to the extreme of mourning. Six months deep and six months slight is as much as is expected.--I am too young cries another to disguise myself in those odious weeds--I should look dike a ghost--they may do very well for threescore, but I am sure I could never endure them--they would bring my poor husband every moment to my mind.That there is a luxury in woe, persons by nature destitute of the finer sensibilities, or who have by their own perverse endeavors conquered them, will with difficulty be persuaded, but that
the
the indulgence of grief is the only method of supporting it, example has not unfrequently proved. As there is no object more deserving of contempt, than a surviving relation or friend substituting hypocritical grimace for real sorrow, so is there nothing which induces a more pleating melancholy over a sympathetic mind than to see the loss of dear connections, borne with patience, resignation and genuine marks of affection. That calm tranquil grief which overspreads the countenance after its first, ebullitions, gives it charms that no face of hilarity ever wore: it may rob beauty of much of its brilliancy, but it atones for the theft by imparting graces peculiar to itself.--But to return to the subject of consolation.In all cases where condolence is required, it is the part of humanity to offer at soothing the sufferer's mind, either by pointing out remaining com-
fort
forts or future hopes, and, as far as is possible, actively to relieve the distress: it is likewise the part of discretion to suppose the chastisement, be it of what nature it may, sensibly and submissively felt. I own I have seen instances where expressions of sympathetic cordiality were not only superfluous but ridiculous, and where the friends of the suffering party have shed the only natural tears. Yet still were there examples of heroism or indifference more frequent, it will never warrant our supposing what ten to one is the truth; few, however callous, like to be thought so, and it is better far to err a thousand times in shewing our participation of an unfelt calamity, than once to shock an elegant sensible mind by presuming, that it feels less than it ought to do. I would therefore advise all such persons as consanguinity, alliance or friendship conducts to the house of mourning, without re-
garding
garding the irregularities they may meet with in a temper devoid of natural affections, to reflect before they set out on the misfortune that has called them, to impress their minds with a due sense of its magnitude, and to consider what, if the case were our own, they should look for comfort they will then be in a disposition suited to the business they, are going about: it may be in their power to quiet the perturbation of grief; or they may do essential service by awakening the feelings of a callous heart; but to make a visit of this kind in a round of gossiping calls, to put on a. demure aspect in. ascending the staircase, while their heads are filled with opera news, scandal and fashions, will never discharge this duty of humanity, nor be productive of any good.Poor MELISSA has, I fear, experienced in her state of woe all the misery friendly consolation can inflict. She is,
herself
herself a woman of little reflection, but acute sensations; borne down by misfortune, without hope of remedy and utterly incapable of struggling against it.The death of her husband, and the consequent loss of income, sickness, and untoward children, are the griefs that oppress her. and have brought her to a fate of nearly total torpidity. I called on her a few day ago, with a design to suggest such considerations as I hoped would rouse her to exertion, and for this purpose was obliged to outstay a number of friends who had assembled in her chamber, as they told me, solely to amuse her. When I surveyed them, and heard their conversation, I could not wonder at the little progress Melissa's mind had made towards regaining its proper tone, for the company of such visitors must of itself be a disease.Melissa had a natural love for the gaieties of dress and amusements, before
her
her spirits received this shock:--one lady therefore came, in' her way to the Countess of Gewgaw's déjeuné, to shew her the fancy dress she had made up on the occasion:--another brought with her three rude children:--a gentleman took much pains to inform her how happily he had married a very deserving daughter:--and a fourth mourner gave an elaborate description of a masquerade, to which Melissa was to have accompanied her on the night of her husband's sudden death:--in short, the. whole conclave seemed to join in the same erroneous opinion, that grief was to be combated by noise and folly.When they were withdrawn, MELISSA burst into a flood of tears, and said, It is such comforters as these that sink me to despair. I seized this opportunity, and shall, I hope, prevail on her to admit none to see her who cannot express their good-will less injudiciously--
To
To torture a mind laboring under the sense of widowhood, poverty and
filial ingratitude, and enervated by sickness, with the exhibition of
a taudry gown, or by presenting much circumstances as must, in a
dejected state of spirits, cause a comparison of prosperity and
adversity, is, let what will be the motive, positive
cruelty. Melissa's companions would have done better to let before her
the vanity of transitory bliss, and to have pointed out, as objects
alone worthy regard, the comforts and consolations of
Christianity.No IX. TUESDAY,, Dec. 5, 1786.Search then the ruling passion--POPE.AVARICE, or a love of money for its own sake, is a vice so intirely factitious, is so productive of misery, and so incapable of procuring pleasure, that it is astonishing how it first found admission into the human heart: that it has, is certain; but that real and true genuine avarice, that kind of infirmity which prevents men from regarding wealth as a means to an end, and represents it as the end itself, is perhaps much less commonly met with than is generally supposed: where we cannot find out the motive to amassing wealth we are apt, too hastily, to presume that the possession of it, is the good sought, and till we are indued
with
with the faculty of seeing into each other's hearts, and while the disposition to fix the worst construction on the actions of our neighbors lasts, this will continue an evil to be reprobated. However, it is not to be denied, that there are some people avaricious to no purpose, nor that it is a mental disease perceptible in some children when they are too young to be acquainted with the real value of riches, or to have considered the evils from which parsimony may protect them. All here contended for, is, that we affix the epithet of avaricious, to tempers that, although their bad qualities may be no less reprehensible, do not merit the charge of avarice.On the other hand it may be alledged, that those who are censured thus
unjustly, often draw the imputation on themselves, by their own want of prudence and judgment. We see people
sparing
sparing; where they ought to be liberal, and we therefore almost naturally conclude that their temper leads them to with-hold; but to this it may be answered, that our decision ought to be suspended till we are assured, that they are not liberal where they might be, and perhaps it behoves them to be sparing, which if they are, their error takes another name, as arising from another cause, and we must say of them, that they, either from vice or folly, are injudicious in their expenditure.Of these who thus acquire the character of misers, there are two classes: the first consists of such as being governed by no regular principle, and wanting equability of temper, obey sudden impulses: these have fits of generosity, which, as destitute of discretion to control them, they generally surfeit on, and extreme indulgence seeks its antidote in parsimony:--a retention which
their
their finances may absolutely command, but which would never have been odious or perceptible, if the stream of their bounty had run in an even course, not pent up till it divulged into cataracts, wailing themselves by their fury. The second class of those unjustly named misers, is composed of persons who have some favorite object of expense to gratify, for which they starve all others. An indulgence of taste, has often procured its votary the charge of avarice,
and a worthless favorite has frequently been found the only witness of liberality. Thus AURELIO is called avaricious, because he could not spare five guineas towards rebuilding his parish-church, and SICCUS is universally condemned a a prodigy of penury, because, with an income that would maintain him in affluence, he will not allow himself a horse, feeble and decrepid as he is; but Aurelio lays by nothing: he squanders,
with
without reluctance, all that is: not necessary to his existence, in natural curiosities and monstrous productions, and Siccus is often forced to anticipate his revenue that he may supply the extravagance of a libertine son, whose indulgence, as it has ruined, must support.These two classes of persons are certainly no misers, and their frequent and incredible plea of poverty, must be admitted in lieu of their charitable donations. There is another species of supposed misers, less justly called so, as their actions are the offspring of reason. These are people who having with a philosophic eye, contemplated the folly of mankind, in adding artificial wants to real necessities, and, as it were, cutting channels for Pactolean streams, have determined to pause ere they open their purse, and ask themselves, if what they are about to purchase, is requisite in life: the answer of their reason is so
fre
frequently a negative, that in time they loose all desires: and as
they are not backward in owning their opinion or avowing their
conduit, their self-denial is stigmatised as parsimony. The censors
are here more to blame than the censured: if the reason of the latter
is governed by religion, and not jaundiced by a morose rejection of
the supernumerary blessings of life, their forbearance is highly
commendable, and such persons will frequently, if not without
exception, be found ready to contribute in any way to the good of
society, or to relieve particular distress. The scale of ANNA'S living
does not extend to a third of her income.--'Tis a shame, cries MARIA,
that Anna does not keep a coach, and live in a larger house with more
servants.--Anna does not love self-indulgence, she has a moderate
table and is rarely seen in new cloaths; but she chearfully 
relinguisheda very
a very large debt, when a tradesman whom she had assisted became a bankrupt.Neither ought the greedy and rapacious, though equitably called the covetous, to be indiscriminately ranked with the avaricious. The rapacity of one hand, is perhaps equalled by the profusion of the other: their power of retention is less than that of a sieve, and their demands are but to supply the torrent of extravagance.On the whole then, it will appear, that unless we are acquainted intimately with the temper and pursuits of others, we ought to with-hold the censure of avarice. It is a vice that has so little to recommend it, and is coupled with so much anxiety, that few care for its company. In old age, when all other desires are extinguished, it does indeed sometimes intrude itself in its natural character. 'Blessings brighten as they
'take
'take their flight,' and gold is then loved for its own sake; but in youth it is rare; for the inclination to amass, is, so strongly opposed by the love of expensive pleasure, that, not withstanding the eagerness with which my landlord collects his rents, I cannot join in styling him a miser, his ways of spending his money are, in proportion to his means of acquiring it, as two to one.DURUS is however a proof, that youth and avarice are not wholly inconsistent. When a child, his principal delight consisted in treasuring up bats, balls,
&c. which he never used: he would beg of. his playfellows such things as he did not want, and having procured them, locked them up: in all childish subscriptions he wished to be included, but renounced his share whenever he failed in dextrously avoiding the payment of his quota. At seven years old, his joy at the. death of his elder brother
was
was in manifest and though then heir to a very considerable estate, he prevailed on his father to procure him admission on the foundation of a public school. Here he bore with stoical apathy, all the obloquy such a character is subject to: his schemes of hoarding, were, for the purpose of teazing him, often frustrated, and his pilfering tricks punished; but Durus was Durus still. On quitting school, with a commendable spirit of industry and œconomy, as his father called it, he declared his, with to be apprenticed: the trade he chose was lucrative, but not respectable:--he was warned that his equals, in rank and fortune, would now be ashamed of associating with him; but his industry and œconomy willingly renounced society; for he observed that no, young men, met together without incurring expence, and he was therefore glad to be rid of his, acquaintance. At the age of thirty-five,
being
being then in possession of his paternal wealth, and established in a
dirty trade, which confined him to the worst part of the metropolis,
and which he rendered laborious by the few hands he employed, he
married a rich ideot, and thinks the privation of all the comfort of domestic life amply atoned for by his annual receipts.With this man the love of money is natural and genuine. It is not the desire of fame that stimulates him; for he is ever offended by guesses at the sums he has realized. He has no fear of future want, for he has abridged his necessities so closely as to defy poverty. He would feel no horror at being dressed in rags, for he grudges the expence decency compels him to; and two considerations restrain his appetite, as all consumed is lost, and the time spent at table might be. profitably employed.SuchSuch is Durus, a wretched, anxious miser! The possession he seeks affords him now not even its wonted satisfaction: fear perpetually torments him--fear, not only that his wealth should decrease in spite of his parsimony, but that great part of it may be wrested from him, by a discovery that he who has thus refined on covetousness has transgressed the laws of integrity.A detestable character! exclaims FOCUS; I cannot imagine what induces men to suffer so much for the sake of money. If we have enough for our necessary support, and for the comforts of life, why wish we for more? Avarice is a most odious vice.--True, Focus, you reason well--but what do you call your rapacious love of colleting?--Durus and you differ in your pursuits, because the objects you are in quest of are different, but a similar spirit actuates you. He collects guineas he can never want,
and
and you heap up books you cannot read. You have profited less than Durus by your labor--his heirs may bless his parsimony, your's will execrate your expensive taste; for you have purchased things whose value is ideal, and which are always, at a loss, reconverted into money.--You boast your being possessed of every edition of the Bible.--Do you think by this you testify your respect for the sacred volume? Believe me, its Great Author would have been better pleased had you attended piously to his reprobation of the covetous man.--But you say you do good to society by bartering for these incumbrances the immediate supply of want.--This sounds plausibly; but then, tell me what was the good you proposed when you at the last literary sale outbid an indigent scholar, who wanted a particular and scarce book in order to the completion of a work of science, by which his poverty
might
might be relieved.--To my knowledge you heard him say, I cannot afford
to bid more, and yet missing it will ruin me--I shall never meet with
it again.--You bore away the prize with triumphant insolence--his
spirit scorned to request the loan of it, but he is amply revenged, by
its being made notorious that you not only do not understand the
language of that book, but cannot read its characters.--What are you
then?--Are you not worse than Durus?--Avaricious, yet
profuse--self-conceited, yet ignorant--a cruel tyrant, and an
oppressor of indigent worth.No X. SATURDAY, Dec. 9, 1786.Among unequals is what societyCan sort, what harmony or true delight?MILTON.I Am too much occupied by the subject of the two following letters
to prefer any other. The first reached in the fore-noon, the other in
the afternoon, of yesterday.SIR,IT is with no design to amuse or instruct that I take up, my pen; a heart almost broken by affliction and cruelty, seeks to pour its sorrows into the bosom of pity, and I write in hope of procuring, from a stranger, that attention which he, for whose sake I have encountered almost every possible calamity, refuses me.I amI am the only daughter of a gentleman of ancient family, exalted rank, and abundant fortune. I was brought up in all the luxury and indulgence that wealth and kindness could procure, and confiding most unreasonably in the love of my parents, which I imagined I could not lose, I, at the age of seventeen, gave way to a passion I had conceived for a young man much my inferior, and, by a most indiscreet and disgraceful marriage, irretrievably forfeited the favor of all my relations.Poverty, against which I had always considered love as a bulwark, soon assailed us: this, I still think, I could have braved, had I met with kind treatment; but my husband, finding my expectations of parental forgiveness disappointed, heaped reproaches on me, and, in a few months, brought me to a very sincere repentance of my folly and disobedience.TwoTwo years. have I dragged on in inexpressible torture. Accustomed, as I was from my childhood, to all possible tenderness, the severities of my situation, even if they were confined to bodily sufferings, are scarcely supportable. I am unable to struggle with cold and hunger, yet them I often endure. I have not strength for labor--I cannot bear fatigue; nor do I know any one art by which I could earn a meal. These are all subjects of reproach which are daily and hourly reiterated to me: my husband, without regard to my inability, insists on my procuring my own maintenance--a requisition which, however reasonable it may sound, is to me, in my circumstances, absolute tyranny.If you have any pity, do say something to console me, and to soften his heart, for he often sees your papers. Bid him confider the sacrifice I have made to love--bid him think on the
situation
situation I quitted on that fatal day when I fulfilled my promise to him.--Remind him of the professions, the vows he made to me, and conjure him, by all he holds sacred, to alleviate, by tenderness, the misery I am doomed to suffer.O could those who are about to do as I have done, see me, the child
of wealth, the darling hope of indulgent parents, me, whom kindness
has enervated, and care rendered unable to brook even the inclemency
of a winter's sky--could they fee me in a miserable lodging, drest in the tattered remnants of finery and splendor, which aggravate my distress by the remembrance they excite--often without the means of procuring food or firing--beholden to taunting ingratitude for a slender support, and threatened with positive desertions, they would fly to the arms of their parents--they would intreat protection against their
own
own hearts, and think a close imprisonment the greatest blessing they could ask; for let them be assured, on my sad testimony, that love, and extreme disparity of situation, cannot subsist together. It was my fortune my husband expected it was not me he loved. My sinking spirits will hardly allow me to subscribe myself,The most wretched,HARRIET----.Mr. FAROS,I CATCHED my wife just now crying over a letter the has wrote you, and you will receive herewith. I despise all she can say or do, so I would not stop it, moreover by reason I think I can make my part good.--She tells you she is a lady, and she married a young man for love below her; this is very true, but she does not tell all so, you than have it from
me
me. I was, to make short of the matter, her father's footman, and might have had any of my women fellow servants, for I am reckoned a genteel figure; and Sir Samuel's livery was very dashing; so, miss, as the was then, used to look at me as I waited at table, and stop me in the hall to talk, and then she used to talk to her maid about me, so I soon found, as they say, which way the wind blew. She was to be sure a girl any man might fancy, for she had a monstrous pretty face, but I am sure if the had had ten pretty faces Old Nick might have had her for me, if as I had known what was to come:--So, as I was going to say, we run it for Scotland, and was married, and she had told me she was sure Sir Samuel and my Lady would forgive her, so by that means you see I hoped to be made a gentleman at once, but it was no such thing, Sir Samuel nor my Lady won't see us, nor do nothing for us.
Now
Now pray, Sir, don't you think I would have been a great deal better off, if as I had had some poor hard-working girl for my wife; can do nothing upon earth but spend.--She is a great slut, for file can't so much as sweep her room nor make her bed; I have seen her faint away dead with the broom in her hand; she can't dress a bit of meat, she can't wash, she can't do nothing, so if I could get her a place she can't do any work. It is more than I can do often to get my own bread, for, by marrying her, I have lost my character, which is a servant's bread, so I am obliged to do what I can. But would not it provoke you to see her crying and doing nothing, and such a litter and a dirt. If I got as much as we could live on, we could not live happy if I could not keep her a maid, for she can but just dress herself, she has been brought up such a fine Lady. Now pray, Sir, have not I the word of the bargain; I
might
might have had a stirring girl, as would have kept her room tidy, and been taking in work or something, but my wife can do nothing, and indeed I cannot always keep from telling her so, and indeed if she is so idle I believe I will leave her, as she says.From your servant, to command,THOMAS----.In the latter of these melancholy epistles, I have taken the liberty of making it intelligible, and I ,hope without injuring the sense; I have likewise omitted the surname, which it was subscribed with, for reasons I need not mention. Let me now feize the opportunity which Harriet's complaint to me offers, of calling the attention of the juft, but rigorous parent, and thoughtless child, to the woes a ilep of irretrcivable imprudence has brought on a wretched, helpless creature. I believe I know the par-
ties
ties, and am afraid I have some time since in vain assailed paternal severity on Harriet's behalf. Severity so cool, so just, and, in some measure, so necessary, that I was silenced. The good of others requires this deviation from duty to be held an unpardonable crime: easy forgiveness would authorize marriages, which, were a whole world to approve them, must still be in their nature infamous: property, the most valuable and ancient, would sink into the hands not barely of the commonalty, but of the lowest order of men, and the consequent confusion might become very seriously extensive.As I will ever listen to the dictates of impartial reason, before I
hear what pity can urge, let me, in behalf of this wholsomewholesome yet dreadful severity,
observe, that the sin it punishes is of a deeper dye than those
involved in it imagine. A child, probably an only one, reared with
anxieyanxiety greater than can be described, regarded
as
as the hope of an ancient and honorable family, adorned with whatever can procure the choicest blessings of life, at the expence of much time, thought and labor, as if exulting in the ability to do mischief and disappoint anxious expectation, deliberately contemns all the precepts of religion and remonstrances of nature, and by an act of the greatest folly becomes a voluntary alien from a father's house, an object of universal contempt and ridicule, and a prey to want, misery and cruelty, I know no obligation a parent is under to pardon this aggravated wickedness: but here natural compassion interposes. Compassion, which is a reproach to the flinty heart that excites it for can there be greater cruelty than this, to bring down a father's grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.Yet, however justifiable may be the resentment of a parent under such cir-
cumstances
cumstances, it ought never to exclude that commiseration on which the existence of a once, loved child depends. The softness and indulgence in which Harriet has been bred, aggravate her miseries, and surely a father's arm should be extended to assist her, whom his kindness has disabled from supporting herself. I do not mean, nor wish that she should be restored to favor, but let some small donative protect her from the horrors of want. Her repentance, I hope, is sincere, and reparation it is not in her power to make.To this wretched victim of folly and passion, I would prescribe the utmost exertion and cultivation of her fortitude and her talents: ingenuity may, perhaps, supply the want of corporal strength, and it is incumbent on her to lighten, as much as possible, the burthen she certainly is to her undeserving husband.Greater duties than this, she must
likewise
likewise perform: her parents and the world are not all the has offended, let her bow before the altar of Omnipotence: let her deprecate the divine wrath by profound humility and heart-felt contrition; let her emplore God's forgiveness, his guidance, and his aid; and, stedtfast1y relying on his mercy, shun, as she would instant destruction, every vice, or the shadow of it. A frequent and dutiful application to her parents, or such as have influence over them, may perhaps soften their rigor; but this must not be attempted unless she feels the submission she expresses--no circumstances can extenuate hypocrisy, and if she is more afflicted by her punishment than the remembrance of her misconduct, she can have no claim to their pity.I shall perhaps add to Harriet's sufferings, if I neglect that part of her request which calls on me to remonstrate
with
with her husband; but what reasoning can I adapt to a mind thus uninformed? He has undoubtedly much cause of complaint, but then he has as much cause to censure himself: the hope of wealth, he owns, actuated him; and in the true spirit of vulgar self-conceit on the precarious chance of Harriet's being forgiven, he committed an act, which proclaims an absence of every moral quality. As it was at his option, either to regard or neglect Harriet's overtures, and as an honest man, would immediately have discovered them to the power that could control her, he suffers in his disappointment, but the just punishment of his baseness, and had he the feelings of a man, he would never be prompted to aggravate the distress he has occasioned, by recriminating on helpless, defenceless woman.--But I well know it is preaching to the winds, to advise one who has gone so far in ini-
quity
quity.--O that I could engrave on the warm heart of every giddy
female, Harriet's too just observation, that love and extreme
disparity of situation cannot subsist together!No XI. TUESDAY, Dec. 12, 1786.Call imperfection what thou fanciest such,Say, here he gives too little, there too much.POPE.THE inhabitants of lower Egypt, had in vain, waited the distention of the all-prolific Nile: the day appointed for festive gratitude was passed in the murmurs of disappointment, and famine, with its terrific train, appeared, when ALI the son of Hassan quitted Garam his native place, in hope of finding at Cairo, the means of subsisting life. The intense heat of the sun, which now poured its fervid rays on his defenceless head, at once stimulated and relaxed him; but despair animating him, he braved the torrid sand and vertical ray, and bid adieu to those fields, which instead of salubrious nutriment,
now
now produced only blinding dust. His eyes had but once looked in vain for his dwelling, when he fell prostrate on the inhospitable waste, and became vigorless and despondent.'O how unequally! how partially! how injudiciously!' said Ali, 'are the goods of fortune distributed--at once the is lavish and penurious, for she abounds where her blessings are not welcomed, and the with-holds, where gratitude stands ready to receive her. If she must be thus capricious, ah! why did not nature in forming us, ordain our wills to suit the mutable laws of this despotic tyrant?--Why did she endue us with reason, if we are to submit to a government, unreasonable and arbitrary?--And why, ah why? did I accept the bounty of the genius, who, tempted me with offered wisdom? Since it aggravates my misery, by presenting future ca-
lamity
lamity to my view--had my mind been without penetration, blind hope might have cheared me. Let wisdom and indigence, never again meet--let those who must be poor, have no tormenting ideas of happiness they can never reach--let them at least, enjoy the sullen pleasure of knowing nothing less wretched than themselves--or henceforth, let silence be blessed with riches, and the halo of affluence lend its benign medium to disseminate the rays of wisdom. Then shall I no more be doomed to waste days and years in providing for corporal want--days and years which I may then at ease employ in visiting the cemeteries of heroes, descrying new constellations, or in fathoming the depths of creation.'Ali's imagination now suspended his powers of recollection, till endeavoring to raise himself from the ground, he
cast
cast his eyes on the small wallet; which contained, at once, the provision for his journey and the whole of his patrimony. The presence of real evil, and the terror of its inevitable increase, overpowered him: he again sunk on the ground, and remained in silent grief, till the sound of camels approaching roused him. He looked and saw their master, SEGUED, the heir of wealth, who gave directions to his attendants to halt, and then enquired of Ali, why he found him thus supine and melancholy.Segued was the most opulent merchant of Garam: his father had bequeathed to him riches that almost defied enumeration; but he had left the young man's mind as Nature formed it: he was good, he was generous, he was pious; but he was ignorant, he was conscious of it, and he was unhappy. He, was now journeying to Grand Cairo, in order to traffic with the merchants ar-
rivedrived from Bulac: he soon learnt from Ali the cause of his sorrow, and having cheared him with refreshment, he sat down to console him.Though poverty is thy lot,' said he to Ali, 'yet though art happy--thy mind is rich; thou art regarded as a sage; the old hear thee with approbation, the young with astonishment: the secrets of nature have been revealed to thee;--the heavens shew not a light thou canst not name;--the earth bears not a plant of whose properties thou art ignorant, nor does the deep abyss or gloomy cavern contain aught thou art a stranger to:--thou hast discovered why our Nile inundates our fields, and--'And what does this avail,' interrupted Ali, 'if I cannot make it inundate our fields?--Ah! how gladly would I exchange all my wisdom to be the possessor of half thy wealth!--
I have
I have learned that he must be miserable whose fate is uncertain, and that no knowledge, no science, no wisdom, will counterpoise the anguish of doubting if the morrow will bring the means to endure it.--That I know why the sun's heat is at this season most intolerable will not mitigate his fervor nor repel his beams. I am as wretched as the most ignorant, and still more wretched, because I can contemplate my misery.''But surely,' said Segued, 'if wisdom does not lessen evil, it strengthens thee to bear it, and it enhances pleasure.'Not so,' Ali rejoined, 'thy sherbet would have relieved my thirst
as agreeably, even if I had not known of what form are the component
particles of the ingredients. Science aggravates suffering, by
presenting to us all our misfortunes in detail!''Let Ali's countenance not frown on
me,'
me,' said Segued, 'if I own myself unconvinced by his words.--I still, O thou happy man!--Happy in ever carrying about with thee a mind stored with delight! I still envy thee, and, could the half of my treasures purchase thy wisdom, O how freely would I resign it!--I am rich; I can smile at the caprices of our river, and I have the happiness of blessing many, but a mind like mine disgraces power, and I am excluded from the society of those I reverence by the want of knowledge.--Give me thy wisdom, and I would bear thy poverty.''My wisdom,' said Ali, 'is not mine to give, nor could I by study or tuition have obtained it. Of him who communicated it, I will ask a like portion for thee; but then thou must prepare thine eyes to see objects, perhaps of terror, certainly aweful--canst thou stand in the presence of a super-
natural
natural being?--Canst thou endure the sight of a terrific genius?''My heart never yet knew fear,' replied Segued, 'nor can I receive
so desirable a gift by any unacceptable means.''Near us,' said All, 'is a valley, whither we must retire to invoke the genius:—let thine attendants wait here, and do thou, if thou wouldest be wise, follow my foot-steps.'Segued obeyed; and they Coon reached the bottom of a steep declivity. Ali then scraping away the sand, discovered a door which, having touched with a talisman he held in his hand, he opened, and they descended some rugged steps together: the door closed on them, and Segued found himself in a large chamber, lighted by millions of lamps: his conductor went to a table at the upper end, took from it spices and frankincense, and, having made a small pile, consumed
them
them in the middle of the floor. The smoke ascended--a noise, as of the loudest thunder, rolled above; horrid screams were heard, and the genius, clothed in ineffable brightness, flood before them. Segued covered his eyes with his hands, unable to support the dazzling lustre, while Ali requested for his friend the same emanations as he had received.No XII. SATURDAY, Dec. 16, 1786.Who finds not Providence all good and wiseAlike in what it gives and what denies?POPE."ALI' replied the sage, 'I gave thee wisdom to sustain thee in thy
necessary toil for subsistence. I have heard thy murmurs, and have
found that my power has been controled by that of my counteracting enemy, who inspires discontent wherever I bestow my blessings. I will not punish thee by withdrawing my gift, valueless as thou now deemest it: for I did not give thee fortitude with wisdom. That thou mayest learn the wisdom of submission, I will grant not only thy request, but thy wishes.---Let Segued and Ali possess equal knowledge and equal wealth.'The gratitude of Ali, and the delight
Segued,
Segued, held them in silent admiration; while the sage, with a countenance softened by pity, continued--'wretched, short-sighted mortals! Ye ought to fear praying for particular gifts, for ye know not how much more than ye ask will be given you; but that ye may enjoy your wish, and confess my benevolence as great as my power, I will intercede with my superior genius to suffer none but natural evil to molest you: and as a reward, Ali for thy early belief on me, and thy pursuance of my counsels, that personal evil may not too heavily oppress thee, nor sorrow for that thou hast brought on thy friend afflict thee, I permit thee, at the end of a year, to visit this mansion, and will then either confirm my gifts to you, or place you again in the situations from which your wishes removed you.'--At these words he stamped on the ground, the smoke a-
gain
gain ascended,, the thunder rolled, the screams filled the air, and the genius vanished. Segued and Ali prostrated themselves on the place he had occupied, and returned to the camels, not doubting that the purpose of their next visit would be to request a confirmation of their happiness.They now pursued their journey together, discoursing on the new endowments they had received. As the sage had prescribed no means for attaining the promised end, they agreed to dwell together, that Segued should lend Ali a thousand sequins to trade with, and that Ali should shorten Segued's path to knowledge, by revealing his experience. Hope now braced them; the sun's fervor seemed to have abated; the lands were less desiccated, and they reached Cairo with unfelt fatigue.Ali's wealth soon increased to the extent of Segued's possessions, and Se-
gued's
-gued's progress in science was equalled only by Ali's wisdom. They resolved to return. no more to their paternal dwellings, where knowledge would be buried in obscurity, and riches want objects for their employment; but to remain in the metropolis of Egypt, where wealth was respected, and learning courted.The singularity of his situation was soon felt by Ali--Through Segued's recommendation he was a welcome guest in the houses of the opulent, but here was little to engage his mind: trade and money were the subjects of their contemplation, and these soon disgusted him: the wise were become shy of visiting him: they were dazzled by his riches and splendid manner of life and free communication was refrained by inequality: he was obliged to neglect his former pleasures for accounts: he had now no quiet leisure, and he found no enjoyment.InIn Segued the gift of the genius produced immediate rapture; he conceived himself raised to a superior rank of being; the mists of ignorance vanished before him, but with them likewise, departed the former companions of his pleasure: Segued was now too wise to be easily gratified, he discovered faults he had hitherto been blind to, and though the goodness of his nature restrained him from assuming superiority, his inferiors tacitly acknowledged it, and withdrew from competition. The pleasures he had formerly delighted in, charmed no more, he was too wise to enjoy any thing trifling: he always retired to his home gloomy and discontented, and did not find his own abundance a compensation for the deficiency of others.The chagrin of Ali and of Segued received some alleviation from the joy occasioned throughout Egypt by the in-
flux
flux of the Nile. In the public felicity, private uneasiness was forgotten; but, when this temporary hilarity abated, each began a fresh to repine. 'I was deceived,' said Segued to Ali, 'in supposing great intellectual possession essential to happiness, or that from the late attainment of it, I should derive those pleasures which proceed from early initiation and habituated pursuit. I had beaten out a track for myself in the road of life, which it is uneasy to me to quit, and I find nothing that can atone for the pain I suffer in conflicting with settled habit. As I am wise for no particular purpose my endeavors want an object: I do not see the immediate effect of my labor as I used to do in concerns of merchandise, and I feel myself in a situation I was not designed for.--Tell me, Ali, how far thou thinkest thyself a
gainer
gainer by this last act of supernatural donation.''I confess,' replied Ali, 'that riches have no charm is for me; all they purchase is insipid. Instead of affording me the leisure and tranquillity I expected, they keep me in continual employment. I reproach myself incessantly for my want of fortitude: I might surely have waited the next season, since it has now blest our fields with fecundity; and, had not despondency made me inactive, I could have procured what was necessary to my existing during this short period of hardship. From all I have seen in my new state of affluence I learn, that the misfortune I wished alleviated was, not that of poverty, which obliged me to labor, and sweetened my hours off retirement; the evil that oppressed me was the dread of want, and now that the Nile has :risen to its most de-
sired
sired height, were I restored to my former state I would not with to change it.''Let us then,' said Segued, 'wait till the expiration of the year; do thou return to thy scientific retirement, and I win feel the companions of my youth, happy in being freed from that wearisome discernment which points out the failings of those I must converse with, and contented to wear, over the eyes of knowledge, such a veil as shall hinder my seeing deformity in objects, on my idea of whose beauty my happiness depends.'Immediately, as the appointed time elapsed, they quitted Cairo, returned to the sage, and besought him to replace them in their original state--'Go my sons,' said he, 'I will indulge you in your request, on condition ye bear in mind this truth--that man can here look for little happiness beyond the
absence
absence, of misery--farther felicity is reserved for the celestial mansions.--Depart to your dwellings and occupations, and be convinced, that while thou, Ali, hast the necessaries of life, and thou, Segued, the pleasures of wealth, ye are happier under the dispensation of Providence, than human or supernatural power can make you.'No XIII. TUESDAY, Dec. 19, 1786--All may shun the guilt of giving pain.Miss H. More.THE situation of a periodical writer, abounds with inconveniences
and has few charms. There is indeed, something plausib1e and alluring
in the description of it, as the task of furnishing a small number of
pages in a week, is no insupportable toil, and the writer is allowed
to chuse stvle and subject; but of the difficulties, no one can an
judge who has not made the experiment, and I believe every one who
has, will decide with me; for let inc be in what humor I may, still I
must write:---an agreeable visit must be shortened or a tête-à-têtete abruptly broken off to wait on the printer; and I must see .all domestic irregularities with indifferences lest I should
pro
procure condemnation, by communicating my spleen to my readers.One species of relief is however reserved for us laborers in literature; this is the occasional aid of correspondents, who kindly now and then interpose their lucubrations, and afford us a day's respite. Of such assistance, I cannot say I have not my share: I now experience the comfort of it, and as I know not how more gratefully to acknowledge the favor, I shall comply with the injunction of early publication, first intreating my polite readers' forgiveness for the rank of those I introduce to them.SIR,YESTERDAY at dinner I hears my lady say as there is a book a writing every two days in a week, in the which whomsomever has any complaints may write. Now, sir, this is just the
very
very sort of a book I have been a wishing for, for my lady reads for everlasting, and she says she will send to Hookham's for this book; so, sir, it is very likeable that when as she sees this here letter she will see as she's a doing the very thing it writes again. So sir, I'll tell you how it is and all about it.I was a poor country boy as my lady taked to be footboy, and she
had me learnt to read and write, and is very good to me, and has made
me her footman.---Now, sir, it would be very wicked in me to be again
doing of any thing as my lady orders, and I am sure I would serve her
to my life's end; but, sir, there is one thing as goes again me more
than any thing. My lady has a lap-dog, and very fond she is of it, and
every day bids me walk for an hour with Pompey in our square. Now sir,
I hope I will never be above doing any thing for a
fellow creature, but indeed it makes
fun
fun for all the servants in the square, to see me walking and stopping
with my 1ady's Pompey. Now, sir, since my good lady has had me learnt,
to, read the Bible, I takes great delight in it, and when as I see
what great things poor men like me has done, I thinks none of them
ever waited on a dog like me, and I do not think as we was made for
their servants. Pray, sir, put this letter in the book directly, for I
am sure as if my lady see it she would not be angry, and may be as she
mought find me some work better to do than walk with Pompey.From your Servant,DAVID MEEK.Pray, sir, be so
good to spell
It right.My other correspondent is of the same function as Mr. Meek, but having. known better fortune, is better able to state a grievance, which as well as that
above
above complained of, I should be glad to see relieved.SIR,CHANCING to see one of your papers on my master's table, my natural love for a printed sheet, made me hasten the dispatch of my, business to take a view of its contents. As your notions and mine seem in many points to tally, I conceived a hope that you would not reject a letter from me, and that your speedy publication of it might diminish the evil I complain of.But that you may judge of the aggravated grievance I am about to state to you, it is necessary that you should be a little acquainted not only with my present situation, but my original prospect of life. To be as little tedious as possible, I Will only mention to you that I was born heir to a considerable
estate,
estate, such an one as madea liberal education fitting, which I had just completed when my father, by one unlucky cast at dice, bereft his family of their patrimony, and threw me out on the world an inexperienced helpless vagabond.The horror of starving stimulated me to industry, and I applied to many persons for such employ as suited my abilities and attainments, but not meeting with it, I embraced the offer of a friend of my father's, to embark with him in trade: the want of a capital I was to supply by taking the laboring oar in the business, that my partner might enjoy the pleasures of a country-house and a fox-chase. He soon sunk into extreme indolence, neglected the trade before I had learned to conduct it, and, by that supineness, which would have made the fortune of many in my situation, found the expences of his shop more than
equi
equivalent to the profits of it. I cannot accuse him of injustice in dissolving the partnership between us, but I thought it hard to be punished for his negligence, since I could soon have made myself his efficient substitute, would he have bestowed proper pains on my instruction.I will not detain you with a catalogue of melancholy events; suffice it to say, I had no alternative but servitude, and that I have, in the course of forty years, experienced all its varieties and hardships but I cannot chuse my condition; food and raiment are indispensible requisites to life, and the only real requisites: these I have, and with these I ought to be contented, but there is, in my present service, a circumstance so grating to my mind, that though I have little hope of removing it, I cannot refrain from complaining of it.I need not tell you I am now an old man.--The family I serve is that of a
gen
gentleman, a widower, with several marriageable daughters. The work required of me is not excessive, but the species of it sometimes disgusts me beyond bearing. Much of my attendance is on my mistresses: I walk after theft, and though the vigor of their youth is often more than a match for the infirmity of sixty -five, I feel no reluctance in the performance of this part of my duty, because I am still in the station of a man, and my protection might be useful in defending them from danger or insult. That to which I object is, the going on trivial errands, unfit for a man, and still more so for an old man. The other day my eldest mistress sent me to the haberdasher's for half a yard of ribbon to match in color a pattern she gave me: I went to the shop, delivered my instructions, and waited while the choice was made. At my return I was blamed, for the shade was not exactly
matched,
matched, and was told that a boy of five years old would have looked at the ribbon, and not hare taken whatever was given him. I was almost tempted to ask my mistress, if she thought it becoming a grey-headed old man to examine the shade of a ribbon, but I recollected the dependence of my existence on my place. A band box I have frequently to carry through the street, and not seldom to follow my mistresses with a work-bag dangling on my arm--sometimes I have a muff, lately, when their nieces are with them little miss's doll has been confined to my hands. In short I am employed in the purchase and conveyance of every article of female finery, and am, without the least regard to age or sex, made useful wherever my mistress needs an errand man.Now though I am not so infatuated as to suppose the life of a footman can
be
be made tolerable to a mind like mine, yet I think a very small degree of attention to propriety, would make servitude a less wretched retreat from want and misery. A man, let him be ever so degraded by misfortune, is still a man, and though he may be forced to forget he is one of the lords of the creation, he must be unworthy his rank in being, if he can submit tamely to indignities which presuppose an absence of rational properties.It is in the power of the giddy and heedless to inflict punishment
without a consciousness of cruely; but want of thought is an inadmissible plea in thinking beings, and notwithstanding the good humor which may cover the disposition I would stigmatise, it is as distant from good nature, as the mirth excited by seeing a horse dance or a lion leap over a stick is from rational delight.Your, &c.A.B.No XIV. SATURDAY, Dec. 23, 1786O Solitude! the foul's best friend.COTTON.SICKNESS and solitude like unhappy friends, try our tempers and affections: they force us to become acquainted with ourselves, and to discover whether our regard to life it attracted by the solid and immutable properties it derives from nature, or by the splendor of those decorations it steals from pleasure.To instruct my readers how to support the presence of two such unwelcome visitors, is, perhaps, an errand that may render me equally unacceptable. Few in health chuse to contemplate the miseries of the want of it, and as few willingly withdraw from the delights of crowded society, to consider how they shall
make
make themselves happy when alone; but, as the bold, effrontery of--not at home--however steadily pronounced or persisted in, will not drive these personages from our doors, it may perhaps be serviceable, though odiously so, to think on the subject. The privilege of neglect remains for the unimpressible, and my monitions may be avoided by waiting for a less gloomy page. For the support of sickness, in its terrific forms of pain and mental disorder, we can look only to the hand that inflicts it.--Religion is here the sole consolation, and its efficacy millions have attested: but as this is not a relief attached to our couch or our pillow, and can be acquired only when our faculties have their full power, it behoves all, who do not deny its existence, to cultivate the seeds of this invaluable plant, and to preserve, in the soil of their minds, the requisites for its growth and nutriment. How
this
this can be done in the incessant whirl of modern dissipation, let those advise who have made the attempt and succeeded.But there are periods of disease when we are capable of rationa1 enjoyments. The languor of convalescence may be rendered tolerable, and we may be made less aware of the tardiness with which health returns, by the exercise of our attentive faculties on more pleasant subjects. By the choice of these subjects our recovery may be in some measure retarded or accelerated; those which irritate or disturb the nervous system must be noxious, and it is therefore not absurd to suppose, that such as diffuse over our minds, a calm. tranquility may, with a selected atmosphere and salubrious medicine, conduce to our restoration.An hypothesis such as this, however from our ignorance of the causes that work on nature, it may be erroneous,
has
has been generally received, but the misfortune to be lamented is, that the art is to be learned when it should be practised. We retire ,from vigor and gaiety, to debility and gloom, and under the oppression of what is called low spirits, are to arm ourselves against an enemy we believe invisible, and of whose method of attack we are ignorant. It is not necessary that to alleviate sickness we should live always as if sick, yet surely it is as inexcusable wholly to neglect preparation for it, as it would be in the commander of a besieged town to postpone victualling his garrison till a breach is made in the wall.How this preparation shall be effected without a diminution of the pleasures of health, is the science I wish to teach; but as the recipe may be equally useful to those in solitude, let us first take a view of the inconveniences of a secluion from society.SolitudeSolitude is, by many persons, considered as tinged with the dark shadows of sickness.--I had rather be ill than alone, is a trite sentiment; and indeed to those who have assiduously shunned it, its approach must be a disease, but this is our own fault. It is in the power of every body, blessed with the common comforts of life, to be as happy when left to the company of their own hearts, as when surrounded by all their friends and acquaintance; and if we have any faith in the dictum of the learned and sagacious Sir Thomas Browne, who says, 'He who must needs have company, must have sometimes bad company'--we shall be inclined to think solitude occasionally necessary to our peace and enjoyment.I own my opinion and my doctrine antiquated: when I look round the microcosm of our metropolis, I am almost a convert to the general opinion, that
solitude
solitude is a grievance insupportable. To human nature, in its simple slate, it can present nothing displeasing, but to the children of this generation it must, on more accounts than I chuse to name, be a most hideous monster.---With the same spirit that actuated Marc Antony against Cicero, it is proscribed, it is hunted, but where shall an Herennius be found to give it the fatal blow. The decapitation of Cicero satisfied the revenge of his opponents, and relieved their fears of his return; but this enemy can never be crushed: it is a Hydra; every head leaves its substitutes and avengers.As then this unwelcome guest must, be a guest, it is our policy to render her propitious towards us. Let us receive her with smiles, and she will smile on us; and, for the respect we shew her by preparing for her reception, the will abundantly reward us. There is but one
method
method of doing this or of supporting the additional languor of ill health, and that is by convincing ourselves of the utility of early mental cultivation, and acting confidently with this conviction. In solitude it will dispose us to. seek amusement amongst the lettered dead, and to furnish our minds with useful knowledge; it will be the means of accumulating a fund of delight which nothing can diminish; it will make our own ideas always new company to us, and diffuse over our tempers that complacency which is equally necessary to our enjoying, in their full force, the salutary blessing of solitude, or the attractive charms of society. To enforce what I have said, I shall add a letter I received a few days since from a correspondent who is, alas! too far gone to receive assistance from any thing I can urge.MYMY DEAR FRIEND,I KNOW you are capable of giving me advice, and I am inclined to believe good advice, for you have often given me that which I wish now I had followed; but, regret and self-condemnation do not suit my humor. 'While we live let us live', is my motto, and you must instruct me in this art.You need not be told that I am not young--threescore is passing over my head, and I feel it in my bones. How I have lived too, you are pretty well aware: have never been remarkably vicious: I have gone with the tide, not rejecting pleasure when she offered herself in any spirit-stirring form, yet I think I have passed my life without injury or offence to any one. My employments, you severe judges will call idle; I rose late because I sat up late--the levee, an airing on horseback, a shew of pictures, or a stroll with a couple of friends
through
through the gay parts of the town, together with a, peep into a coffee house to read the papers, and a lounge in a fruit shop to keep up my intimacy with the fair, generally occupied one half of my day; the rest was devoted to dressing, to convivial mirth, the play-house, the opera, or other public amusement.But these halcyon days are no more: my friends have either settled into a more sober class of men, or have proved their constitutions less strong than mine, so that I am almost a stranger in a place nobody knows better than myself, and from the extensive circle of my intimates can scarcely cull one acquaintance.Natural infirmities, and a declining constitution have wrought this disagreeable change. Those who would have rallied me to death had I married, now regard me with contempt as an old batchelor. Books I never much affected, without it was a new play or a novel, so that
the
the men of literature cannot relieve me--in short, I know no set of men that can. My infirmities often confine me to my house, where I sit many hours alone: I con the papers till I hate the, sight of them; a play or farce I have not seen on the stage is insipid in reading, so that I have no resource but gazing at the passers by, many of whom, whose occupations I suppose call them out at stated hours, duly raise their eyes as they pass my window, and smile at feeing me so constant to my post.I begin to think I should have been happier had I been bred to a
profession, but perhaps the question is only which half of our lives
shall be miserable. If you would give me your thoughts on this
subject, you will enable me to deceive a quarter of an hour, and
consequently oblige,Your old friend,M.T.A whole essay of mine on this head would not contain half the force
of the illustrious lord Falkland's words--'I pity
unlearned gentlemen in rainy weather.'No XV. TUESDAY, Dec. 26, 1786.The pride of arrogant distinctions.COWPER.I WAS a few days ago brought acquainted with a species of folly, of whose existence nothing but positive demonstration would have convinced me. It is a folly that I believe has not yet had a particular name assigned it: it ranks in the genus of vanity, but certainly deserves distinction, for which reason I shall denominate it a desire to shew off one's friends.A lately deceased writer has, in one of the papers of the Adventurer, very ludicrously described the pretences to importance made by his fellow-travellers in a stage coach. Here, as he observes, the wish of the several persons was only to procure themselves temporary regard,
as
as when the arrival of the vehicle dismissed them to their respective habitations and functions, their importance must vanish; but in the folly I am about to describe more is attempted: there is a reflex lustre cast on the person, and success in imposition may procure permanent homage. To render myself intelligible, I must describe the circumstances of a visit I made to Francisco, who had invited me to partake of what he called an evening's sociable conversation: I knew the vacuity of his mind too well to expect he would furnish any thing towards our improvement or amusement, but I could not easily decline his offer to introduce me to his wife, and I promised my attendance.On entering the room, I found the chairs still marshalled themselves in the terrific form of a circle, an appearance which is always to me a hint that the occupiers are to do their utmost in in-
terlocutory
terlocutory exercise, they are placed like the great guns in the sides of ships, are to load and fire, and wait a discharge from those opposite to them. An awful silence of some moments succeeded to my entrance, in which I had time to survey my friend's wife, and to discover that she was, to the utmost degree, solicitous in the display of her beauty, not, I thought, without a particular desire to attract my notice. The arrival of several visitors gave her now an opportunity of unfolding the treasures of her mind, and Francisco being, by his profession, suddenly called out, and all present strangers to me, I was content to remain silent, and be deemed a stupid creature for the pleasure of studying ELIZA'S character.As this party was in truth summoned in imitation of those rational assemblies which persons of rank and learning now form, or, in other words, as we were
itto play at a conversatione, I was curious to observe how Eliza, who I was now thoroughly convinced had more beauty than intellect, would demean herself, and support the character of prolocutor till her heterogeneous guests were warmed into intimacy. She did not seem averse to leading the discourse, she prated incessantly, collected the opinion of every one present on the last new tragedy, and then amused us with a relation of the terror the had suffered when she left Cheltenham, by hearing a highwayman had committed depredations on that road: this, and about half a dozen relations, in all of which she was the heroine, lasted till she perceived that she had all the conversation to herself, and then, I suppose, fearing her company would leave her with no favorable opinion of her good-manners, she determined to atone for it and render
them
them respectable by what I term shewing them off.How far does your friend the duke ******* of live from your in the country, laid Eliza, addressing herself to an old lady, for such I must call her, but who in truth I should have taken for a country-shopkeeper. The reply being given in the number of miles; Eliza observed how agreeable it was to have such a sociable neighbor, and said all that could convince me of the intimacy between his grace and her friend, giving the latter an opportunity which she willingly embraced of relating what, on various occasions, the duke had said to her, and what the had said to the duke.Wealth, I found, was the attribute of the lady the next addressed--Enquiries were here made about her four horses, her mansion-house in Yorkshire, and her diamond-necklace, and a blaze of riches would have been exposed to, our con-
tem
templation if the arrival of a clergyman had not broken off the discourse. He excused his late arrival, by modestly saying, business had detained him.--Aye, said Eliza, I supposed my lord would not leave you early--great folks are sometimes troublesome acquaintance. We pedagogues, replied the honest parson, though we style ourselves the masters of our pupils, are in effect their servants--if my lord is sullen I must wait till he chuses to learn, as was the case this afternoon.--I with fortune, when she makes men poor and dependent, would charitably increase their quantum of patience.Here was now a fine opportunity of shewing me how many of Eliza's intimates, were the intimates of tituladoes spoiled--The parson had ingenuously avowed his situation, and in a way that might mortify her silly vanity, but the disappointment was obliterated
by
by the entry of a young man dressed in boots, and from head to foot a perfect dirty dishabille: he was followed by a pointer; and on perceiving the company he was to be introduced to, rapt out an exclamation at once declaring the insincerity of his confusion and his abandoned profligacy; but had he come in Adam's garb he would have been welcome, for he voluntarily, declared his rank and importance, by complaining grievously of the confinement to which his, attendance on the prince obliged him. Perhaps Eliza would have been as well pleased, if he had concealed from us, that she had invited him to make one of this party with that sort of compulsive solicitation that admits no refusal. The conversation was confined to the mistress of the house and this new guest, and as their stock, both of understanding and vanity, seemed nearly to tally, it was such as afforded
little
little amusement to the silenced majority, as on the part of Eliza it consisted principally of enquiries after persons to whom they were strangers, and the gentleman related nothing that did not immediately concern himself or his master.Eliza seemed now to think herself in the zenith of splendor, and heard, without emotion, the thunder of another rap. Happily it proved a lady who had been driven to the utmost danger of disappointing Eliza, by waiting dinner for a Mr.***, the recollection of whose name gave our fair hostess an occasion of pathetically lamenting the inconveniences to which members of parliament were forced to submit, and of informing the circle that this gentleman, who was the intimate of the last-arrived lady's husband, was the confidential friend of the minister. The lady now seemed to have her cue, and with a
most
most ridiculous vehemence, related all the circumstances of this great
man's election, the opposition made to it, and his conduct after
success. As all or most of this might have been learned from the daily
oracles, she confirmed her importance by predicting events in politics
and changes in the cabinet, in doing which she was so very
communicative that I was convinced her intelligence could not be
authentic, for no one employed in the affairs of government could have
been so silly as to trust this prate-apace with matters on whose secresy so much depended.I was now, as I dare say my reader is, heartily tired, and finding ceremony needless, withdrew in silence: before I had reached the bottom of the stairs, I was overtaken by the clergyman, whose situation had been exactly the same as mine, and who seemed incited by my example to a retreat. He now
ad-
addressed me in terms of admiration at the egregious folly we had witnessed, and his remarks I shall substitute for my own.It is to me wonderful, said he, that any people can fall into an error which is so obvious that nobody escapes detection, or that they can imagine this bare-faced manner of exposing themselves can procure them respect. By their desire of declaring their great connexions they defeat their own purpose, for if the comparative meanness of their own situation did not render the good fortune in some measure wonderful, it would never occupy their thoughts, nor consequently be a subject of their conversation: they therefore, by their solicitude, prove themselves the inferiors of those whose equals they would be thought. And beside this, those infected with this intolerable vanity ought to be told, that where chance or neces-
sity
sity obliges persons in the middle stations of life to associate with their superiors, it is esteemed no instance of good fortune, and such people are not well enough pleased with the necessity to brag of it. Where interest is not the motive, there is an incongruity in the intimacy of persons of very different ranks, that in most cases is unpleasant, and where narrowness of income compels one to it; I, from sad experience, can declare there is nothing to be proud of. Place any man in my situation, descended as I am from one of the most ancient families in the kingdom, a family that not only came in with the Normans, but can trace a pedigree in the annals of France some centuries higher, and can prove their descent ever since the first establishment of empire in that country, whose ancestors have, to an incredible number and degree, distinguished themselves by their loyalty and
valor
valor, whole patrimony extended over almost a whole county: place any man, I say, in my circumstances, and he will own it no felicity to be, as I am, forced to live amongst persons now esteemed of high rank, but whom I regard justly as my inferiors.By this and a little more, I perceived, that though the mania was
differently modified in my clerical acquaintance, it was as violent as
in those whose frenzy he had been reprobating, and that had the lady,
whose house we were quitting, but touched on the subject of pedigree,
he would have proved himself worthy his place in the circle.No XVI.SATURDAY, Dec.30, 1786.Is there, beneath Love's noble nameCan harbor, dark, the selfish aimTo bless himself alone?ROBERT BURNS.SIR,I TAKE up my pen to give envy a regale:--perhaps it may afford her wretched votaries one moment's pleasure to know that one whom the caprice of fortune has rendered odious, her bounty has made miserable.--Perhaps the picture I am about to unveil to them, may induce them to suspect they have sometimes misdirected their shafts:--happy should I be if aught I urge relieves a fellow-sufferer from the addition of misery this passion has heaped on me.Can I hope to engage the eye or ear
of
of curiosity if I declare my humble origin?--Will any attention be vouchsafed me by the sons and daughters of grandeur and opulence if I own myself the daughter of an inn-keeper, and that not in the metropolis, nor in the first rank even of those who followed the same occupation in the same place?--I will hope a hearing from some not yet giddy with this world's intoxicating draught, for I can boast myself the child of a man of tried integrity.It was the will of Providence to place my parents in that city of England which is honored with an university--a circumstance that made me no welcome visitor, but a source of great anxiety to them:--it was, as I grew up, no less unpleasant to myself, for it obliged me to live much from home or in a state of imprisonment.--I have many times seen my poor father gaze for some moments intently on my face, turn away
with
with glistening eyes, and wish it had pleased God to deny me the gift of beauty. As I sincerely honored and revered this careful parent, and thought nothing so important as his peace, it was my highest ambition to acquire his confidence: I implicitly concurred in his wishes for my safety, and did, and forbore to do, whatever he suggested as prudent or censured as dangerous to me.In this state, afraid to be seen, and often debarred the pleasure of enjoying the fresh breeze out of the city, I lived till I had reached my seventeenth year, when, in spite of every precaution, I attracted the notice of a young nobleman, the son of an earl then living. As no one could get access to me personally, he avowed, in writing, that he loved me, and made me a tender of his heart. Had the most direful prophecy now been accomplished on my devoted head, I could not have felt greater horror than at this
moment
moment. I carried the letter instantly to my father, begging him to take what consequent measures he thought fit. To send me away was immediately resolved on, and I retired to the house of a relation in the next county.But here I soon found myself in greater peril. My lord learnt where I was, and, under an assumed character, aided I fear by those who should have protected me, gained admission to me.--Natural pride was, I believe, my monitor; for though his person was captivating, his manners insinuating, and his sincerity declared with all the circumstances that could obtain him credit, I thought only on my father and reputation, and dismissed him with insolence.--Upon this I was again taken home, and forced to live as if my existence depended on my concealment. I could not stir abroad, nor approach a window; I slept in a room inaccessible but through that where my
father
father lay, and yet, with all this submission to very irksome restraint, I had not the happiness of procuring his comfort:--he was miserably anxious, and in perpetual terror, sometimes resolving to fend me to London, then recollecting that he could there substitute no guardian for me equal to his care.--At other times bent on removing with me to some distant part of the kingdom, and as often deterred by considering, that should he abandon his present situation, and not succeed in another, he must leave me in such poverty at his death as would inevitably expose me to the evil he with such caution shunned.For more than a twelvemonth did I endure this aggravated misery--his lordship frequently soliciting me by letters, which I never opened. At length, finding me immoveable, he seriously applied to my father, and offered a private marriage; but without success:--for this
upright
upright guardian of my. peace as well as fame, would not subject me to 'the proud main's contumely.'--He said it would be an equal injury to the noble family and to his daughter, and, that should his lordship continue his importunity, it must, and it should be revealed to the earl his father.Things were in this state, and we hoped, from his longer silence than usual, that my lord was effectually discouraged, when I sustained the severest affliction I could feel:--My father, after an illness of a few hours, died, and left me to protection unavailable to my security; for what could a mother's authority do, even when exerted to the utmost, against the endeavors we were now to expect? And what hope was there for me, who knew my mother to be of an unsteady temper, and had reason to suspect she was dazzled by the splendor I was courted to accept?ThatThat this suspicion was well grounded, a short time demonstrated, and I began to look round for a retreat from her: but my reputation was in danger if I left her clandestinely, and if the knew whither I went, I was no safer than with her: I was therefore compelled to abide where I was, and to hear incessantly arguments not her own, I was well convinced, tending to prove the folly of my obstinacy. My lord frequently supplied her with written eloquence, he repeated the same offer as before my dear father's death, and, without much difficulty, prevailed on her to see him. His victory over all her scruples this interview completed; but my resolution was unshaken, and, with a degree of pleasure, bordering on cruelty, I heard that he inclined to abandon the pursuit: when he was to quit college for the vacation, he left a message with my mother for me, professing his sorrow for the trouble he had
given
given me, commending my firmness, formally renouncing his hopes, and promising eternal silence would I but admit him, in her presence, to bid me an everlasting farewell.I did not doubt my own ability to stand this trial, for I was heartily angry at the solicitations I had been pestered with. I considered it as now in my power to purchase peace cheaply; but left I should be suddenly betrayed to do what I might afterwards repent of, I desired a quarter of are hour's leisure to deliberate, and was going out of the room to spend it in retirement, when my lord entered. My astonishment was great, but I had presence of mind enough to assume an air of indifference, and fortitude enough to hear all his eloquence unmoved:--we parted--My sprits thus long had served me, and I now hastened to my own apartment to hide
the
the tears that were gushing from my eyes.I could now deceive myself no longer: I felt myself victorious, but miserable--a thousand suggestions of pity--innumerable doubts of the propriety of my obduracy assailed me.--Judge then what were my sensations, when in the evening of this day--a day which convinced me I had mistaken obstinacy for insensibility, I received a letter by my lord's servant, informing me, he had stopped on his journey to town for the purpose of learning whether I could make any objection to entreating his father's sanction to our marriage: he represented the earl as very indulgent, and gave me the most flattering hopes of success.--To this intoxicating request I returned only a reference to his own prudence, and, when I had dispatched his messenger, began to think my mother less to blame than I had before judged her.InIn a few days my lord wrote again, informing me, that his father's sudden illness had prevented him from mentioning me to him, and that the earl was not expected live ten days: he conjured me to prefer his happiness to that false notion of honor which had hitherto kept me obdurate, and to reserve my hand for him.No XVII. TUESDAY, Jan. 2, 1787.--Sunk to sordid interest feels no moreThat noble wish, that never-cloy'd desireWhich, selfish joy disdaining, seeks aloneTo bless the dearer object of its flame.THOMSON.MY former constancy had now wholly abandoned me: my mother's arguments accelerated its departure; and I felt that permission to avow my sentiments to myself was all I needed to render me sensible that I returned my lord's affection. I ardently wished him ungraced with title, and in a state of life level with mine, that I might convince him it was neither his coronet nor revenue that tempted me. He soon learnt the change in his favor: he hastened to me, easily overcame my resolution to wait the death of his father, who, he
confessed,
confessed, was recovering, and in a few days made me his wife.As our marriage was to be a profound secret, I remained with, my mother, who, quitting her business, retired to a village in the neighbourhood: here we lived in a state of happiness that almost obliterated my good father's precepts and caution from my ungrateful memory, till a letter came from the earl directing his son to prepare. for his travels, as he had determined on his going abroad immediately. I want words to express the agony I felt at hearing this news, for in our joy I had not once thought of this necessary separation:--three years was the time fixed for his absence, and there was no alternative: he left me when I most needed his support, with no other consolation than an assurance that his reluctance was equal to mine.The hope of future happiness yet encouraged me: my cares soon increased
and
and occupied my thoughts, and I could have rested tolerably contented had I enjoyed my lord's correspondence; but his travelling tutor was an impediment to this pleasure, and a few lines in many weeks, which I dared not reply to, importing that he was well, and desirous of returning to me, were all the comfort he could administer.To fill up this uneasy long-during time of expectation, I applied myself to such studies as might fit me for the station of life I was one day to occupy: my lords former bounty and occasional remittances enabled me to procure several necessary accomplishments, and I hoped I should not externally disgrace him. Never did any one cultivate their talents with such delight as I felt.--I had the strongest stimulatives, love and heartfelt gratitude.In the midst of these my hopes and exertions, I learnt that our marriage
was
was no longer a secret, that it had come to the earl's ear, and he was to the highest degree exasperated. Lest my silence should be construed into contempt, I wrote to him in the most submissive terms, imploring his pardon, but he vouchsafed me no reply. His eldest daughter, about this time, disposed of herself much against his will, and I began to think, as she had been no more discreet than her brother, and as much harmony had subsisted between them, some regard might be expected from her. She came into the neighborhood; whether by accident or out of curiosity I will not determine, and I begged permission to wait on her. This she granted, and now my hopes of her kindness increased. I went to her house taking my little boy with me, and was shewn into a ground room, where I expected either to see her or to receive a summons to attend her: after waiting
more
more than half an hour, a servant brought a message from her, desiring I would send up the child by him. I obeyed, and should have seen nothing of my lord's sister had not her inquisitiveness brought her to a window, when she had returned her nephew, and I was leaving the house with him. Since that time the has once stopt him as he passed her door; the asked the servant, who carried him, a multitude of questions about me, and finished all with saying, that had her brother taken me into keeping she could have forgiven it, but that now the family honor obliged her to resent my presumption.It was become incumbent on me to assume my husband's name, and by his direction I did so. No one can conceive the change it produced in those around me. I was no longer thought on but as a subject of astonishment, envy, and inquisitiveness: my ,manner of life was
a never
a never-failing topic for the latter, and I could not pass through the village without hearing something that reflected on me. A set of rural scandal-mongers near me forgot the delights of cards, in the pleasure of reporting and hearing how my narrow finances forced me to disgrace my lord:--in short, if celebrity is desirable, I enjoyed it; but alas! how often did it make my heart ache!Yet Hope sustained me, and. I was cheared by my lord's correspondence:--the time of separation wore away, and that of our meeting at length arrived--arrived indeed; but only to render me completely miserable; for he who had drawn me from obscurity to torturing elevation; he for whom I had undergone every agony of mind, that innocence can feel, now beheld me with indifference, and his son without fondness. Instead of returning my expres-
sions
sions of joy, he could talk of nothing but his father's indignation and his fears of disinheritance--evils he had hitherto braved; and, after a stay of scarcely two hours, he left me with frowns and averted looks. I began to think I, had suffered a metamorphosis, or that I had lost my senses--fool that I was!--Could I satisfy the eye sated with splendid beauty?--Could I charm him who had travelled Italy to. refine his taste?A letter from his lordship, in a few days, informed me that he had purchased reconciliation with his family, by promising to see me no more: at the same time he, with a species of candor near a-kin to effrontery, confessed to me that he was mortified when he reflected on the indissoluble engagement I had forced him to, because it obliged him to decline a match to which beauty, birth, wealth, and power were the attractions. This letter inclosed one
from
from his father, stating the inconvenience I had reduced the family to, and offering me a settlement of five hundred pounds a year; secured to myself and my son, if I would quit my claim, declare myself not married, and suffer my lord to contract a more advantageous alliance. To this offer I had not replied, when news of the earl's death reached me, and I will own filled my heart with joyful expectations. I persuaded myself that my lord had acted under his father's direction, and that now he would certainly avow me his wife.--How grossly did I flatter mvself!--My first application to learn his intentions, he replied to, by telling me I had cost him too much vexation to retain any part of his regard; but that on condition I would remain at a distance, he would allow me an annuity--to this I am compelled to submit. I can hear of sums lavished on opera fingers and
dancers,
dancers, while he tardily remits me a scanty pittance, and can see his name subscribed to charities while he has forgotten that he is a husband and a father.To this heap of suffering my friendly neighbors lend their contributions. Many of them are of opinion that I have all I wished for in the appellation so grating to my ears, and for this fortuitous pre-eminence I am hated. In. every, purchase, be it ever so trivial, I .pay more than others because I am a lady: a servant will not live with me ton moderate wages for the same reason, and beside this imposition, I am perpetually insulted by being told what other countesses do. But these are the least traits of the obloquy I endure; it is not often safe to insult nobility openly, and therefore it is not wonderful that the opportunity I furnish should be eagerly embraced.LetLet the declaration of my woes, which I have too long descanted on, lead those who read it to believe this truth, that no one deserves envy for possessing nominal blessings, since perhaps they carry with them an alloy debasing them below ordinary comforts. And, on the other hand, let this be ever uppermost in the minds of such as are like me solicited to accept situations they were not born to, that no misery is so great as that which is splendid.Should this meet the eye of him whose cruelty suggested it, he may scorn it as a covert attempt to excite pity: let him, know I ask no pity--for I am convinced I deserve none. If I was weak enough to trust him, against whom my honored father so sedulously warned me, if I could expect the conjugal virtues from him who made me his wife only because he could not make me his mistress, I alone am to blame. To that
faith
faithful avenger, Conscience, I refer my wrongs, and only with my lord
may discover that his wife and child have a claim to his tenderness,
before it is too late to evince the sincerity of his conversion; for
at the day ,of final award, it will, I imagine, hardly be admitted in
excuse for his deserting the woman he vowed to love and to cherish
that she wasAN INN-KEEPER'S DAUGHTER.No XVIII, SATURDAY, Jan. 6, 1787.--Views the truth with a distorted eye.COWPER.I WAS asked the other day to give a reason why description so frequently magnifies objects, or rather, to state it more correctly, why it magnifies the degree of the quality described; for instance, why in verbally representing any thing as beautiful, it is painted on the imagination of the, "hearers as more beautiful than it really is, and so in other subjects of description. Disquisition must precede satisfaction on this head, and I therefore promised my querist to make it the. topic of an essay.Passion or interest, it is well known, often occasions this deception. Where a person means to impress another with a sense analogous to his own feelings,
even
even while truth is not violated, the judgment maybe misled. A lover may set forth his mistress's charms in terms which her personal perfections shall not positively contradict, and yet an unprejudiced gazer may feel his expectations balked. He who has an estate to sell, will, in a verbal description, raise it to beauty. and importance, but an ocular survey shall prove it :insignificant and ill-conditioned.Concealment of some one particular, not obvious to the hearer, is another means of .deception.--I once heard a collector describe a Titian he had purchased at a sale, in such terms as awakened the attention of all acquainted. with the works of that master, and made the cheap rate at which it was knocked down to him incredible. He invited me to see it--I went: the mystery was unravelled--the picture was incontestibly deserving of what he had
said
said of it; but the rats had made free with the canvas and devoured the feet and legs of one of the figures: of this the possessor seemed to think lightly--it was genuine--it was fine--and he was delighted.In describing many things it will be found that concomitant
circumstances have exaggerated the speaker's idea of their excellence:
fine weather passes often unnoticed; nobody would bestow their labor
in describing the beautiful diversity of light and shade afforded by
objects constantly before our eyes, but these things are seen in
peculiar beauty by a person just released from a sick bed; and he will
talk himself into rapture about them. The gratitude of perhaps,
unexpected restoration; the joy of meeting again those scenes to which
he had bidden adieu, here raise emotions in the mind which assist the
imagination, and 
ren
render what is in general, common and unheeded, interesting and valued.Novelty is likewise a cause of exaggeration. Intimacy with persons, situations or objects, produces satiety and insensibility to their beauty or other recommendations: here it will be said, the fault is in the hearer, but then a question arises, whether, as our judgment is unfavorably prejudiced by satiety, our admiration is not too much raised by novelty; and in support of this it may be urged, that some degree of acquaintance being necessary to our discerning the good or ill properties of whatever we meet with, we are, by novelty, kept in a state of ignorance, in which even satiated intimacy has the advantage of us.A desire of causing wonder is another source of deception; but in this case the precise bounds of truth are seldom rigorously adhered to; therefore this
can
cannot be considered as in the class of innocent sources of exaggeration.But the powers of detail infinitely surpass those of description. Before I put my readers on their guard, I must present them with an instance for which I am indebted to a very ingenious friend.In an isle of considerable note in Europe dwelt the wealthy
BENADAMI, who on succeeding to his paternal inheritance, resolved, by
a life spent in munificence and good actions, to atone for the
rapacity and sordid avarice of his father. As a means to this end he
endeavored to promote commerce by the most liberal encouragement to
all concerned in it; and, by a profuse consumption of natural and
imported productions, to excite industry and emulation in the lower
classes of the people: elegance was to reign in his abode, hospitality
to preside at his table, and
plea
pleasure to hover with undeparting wing wherever he appeared. He rebuilt, on an enlarged scale, his family mansion; and, to disseminate his wealth, he employed peasants, in a remote part of his own country, to dig in the bowels of the earth the substance of which the walls were to be composed: ships were ssent into foreign lands to bring home marble spotless as the snow, or variegated in beautiful irregularities: others were dispatched to a more distant region, across an ocean three thousand miles wide, to find the wood most susceptible of polish, while again the mariner plowed the wave into frozen territories in quest of strait spiral trees easy to be fashioned. In the mean time hundreds of persons were busily employed in finding, compounding, kneading, and drying with fire, masses of argillaceous earth, to form the internal walls, and in preparing a durable cement
for
for them. To encourage honed ingenuity, he ordered some thousand feet of a composition of mucilated linen and woollen shreds, to be made for the hanging of some of his apartments: others were decorated with tints borrowed from vegetables, minerals, &c. and a few with the finest productions of the imitative arts. To defend this edifice and its inhabitants from the inclemencies of the air, the roof was spread with thin plates of a beautiful blue stone, cut in the nicest symmetry, and fixed each separately to a covering of wood prepared for them. When the orient sun rose in its magnificence, the splendor of this covering could not be steadily gazed on: it appeared, at a distance, like a glassy current reflecting every beam of light.Nor was Benadami splendid only in the erection of this mansion: the industry of millions of silk-worms was em-
ployed
ployed in spinning for his curtains, his beds, his chairs, and his garments. The bleating sheep was stripped of his proud fleece to make him carpets and outer vestments: other creatures contributed their down to furnish a repose for his luxurious limbs. The most valuable of all metals was ever at his hand and often decorated his person, brought to him by people who fetched it from the remotest parts of the globe.His food was transported from lands in opposite quarters of the
terraqueous world: the east and west were ransacked for his morning
repast, while the lowing herds presented him their milk unasked. To
procure him daily supplies of his lead luxurious and most necessary
aliment, a rapid stream was fought, and on it erected a machine to a
degree of inscrutability complex, in which grain, the product of his
own domain, was levigated. Scores of stately beeves bled
yearly
yearly for his table, the stag (free heir of the forest) fell extended
by the archer's arm to regale his friends: nor were the wild
inhabitants of the coppice or thicket spared. Not only the lakes
around him were deprived of their finney tribes, the numerous people of the waters exposed in convulsions on the shore, that he might, by his choice, devote to death, but distant seas were made to render up their natural tenants. To please his palate nature was thwarted and compelled: all the powers of invigorating lenses were applied to give some species of fruit a more exquisite zest; others were carefully tended in the shade, while all the rigor of Nurwegian winter was condensed to mitigate the thirst of solstitial fervor.In all things did Benadami manifest a spirit equally and regularly magnificent. The poor were fed and clothed by his luxuries: his friends enjoyed his banquets
and
and admired his liberality, and he lived long in the supreme felicity of diffusing content, peace, happiness and riches to all around him.Such was Benadami, whom my readers, I dare say, pronounce munificent but luxurious to an extravagant degree; and yet I do not know that he enjoyed one gratification uncommon to English opulence. As to the building, his house, no one will think stone, marble, timber, bricks, and mortar useless superfluities. Some of his rooms he papered, some he painted, and a few had pictures and sculptures in them:--nothing uncommon in all this, nor in his preferring a slated roof to a tiled one. Silk furniture, and part of dress silk, are allowed to moderate wealth, as are carpets and the use of broad cloth. A
down
down bed, to he lure, is not one of the necessities of life, but it
would have sounded as magnificently to have described one made of
goose-feathers. That he had gold in his-pocket, and a little on his
waistcoat, is not wonderful; nor that his morning repast should be
collected from the east and west; for whose is not where tea and the
extras of sugar-cane are used!--The lowing herds presented him their
milk unasked!--many a cow will walk up to the dairymaid. He erected a
corn-mill and ground his own flower--the only way to be safe against
adulteration. He filled his table with beef, venison, game, and fish
from the canal and the sea.--Common hoticultural aid and various treatment procured him fruit; and he had the Italian convenience of an ice-house.--And what extraordinary luxury was there in all this?--or what gentle-
man
man of a landed estate could not or would not do the same?But my example was a digression.--Had I been so minded, I could infinitely have enlarged my friend's detail, but a few particulars suffice as an instance, and enigmatical tediousness is of all the worst. I was going to remark on the miraculous effects of detail.They are such as deceive beyond any thing else:--a cottage becomes a palace:--the most accustomed exertion of talents or labor is rendered a stupendous atchievement:--an escape from the slightest danger is exaggerated into marvellous; the common crosses of life into desperate misfortunes.Nevertheless, there is this to be observed of its powers, that they will magnify to a certain and very extensive degree, but not proportioned to the thing detailed:--thus the detail of an ordinary dwelling-house may represent it in ideal
grandeur,
grandeur, but that of a regal mansion, a superb ecclesiastical edifice, a fine prospect, &c.shall excite no admiration, and for this reason, that as the conceptions thus raised must be borrowed from something superior, and as we have no ideas without archetypes, when the thing detailed to us is in the. highest degree whatever it is described to be, we can imagine nothing more. No eloquence or ingenuity could convey an idea of St. Peter's at Rome, or of the view from Richmond Hill, which would not be found inadequate to the majesty of the one or the picturesque, beauty of the other: but I could easily deceive a stranger into an opinion that Wanstead House rivalled Versailles, because my hearers (if I succeeded) would borrow all his images from the final palace he could conceive of.--Hence we see it is only the credit and judgment of the narrator that can induce us to believe a prospect, a building,
or
or any thing else, finer than what we have yet seen or heard of; we may suppose a junction of particulars, we may borrow ideas, but the human imagination can add nothing new.That detail should often cause disappointment is easily accounted for. Use and long acquaintance have made our opinions far from natural:--an antediluvian would regard Benadami in detail: he would reflect with astonishment on the labor and exertions necessary to this man's luxurious existence; and with nearly equal wonder would he survey the complex machine that must perpetually revolve to sustain even the lowest order of humanity; but to us, who found the machine set in motion ready to our hand and who seldom look forward to its pausing, it seems only the regular course of nature. Should our government renounce their oriental commerce, and at once abandon the territory to its natural
possessors,
possessors, on the failure of a supply of that country's productions,
we should be lost in astonishment, and think ourselves grievously
curtailed we should perhaps then reflect that the uninterrupted
transportation of commodities across the Indian ocean was wonderful:
perhaps we could hardly persuade our children to believe it ever had
been accomplished. But while we enjoy blessings we think not on the
ten thousand contingencies they depend on; and thus being accustomed
to see and to regard in the gross, we are astonished whenever the
detail is presented to us.No XIX. TUESDAY, Jan. 9, 1786.Nor think the cautious only are the just.GARTH.IT is the common opinion of the world, that where parents or guardians do not exercise the utmost caution and circumspection in setting those who depend on their experience, out in life, nothing but misfortunes can be the fate of youth. --The following communication will shew the misery of being too well taken care of.SIR,FOR upwards of seven-years I have suffered oppression, which I should, in half that time, have declared intolerable,. had not my reason been convinced that it was salutary; but I have been shamefully imposed on, and the world shall
know
know it, that they may judge of how little avail is prudence unaccompanied by judgment.In my age of childhood, death deprived me of my father, and, when I had reached seventeen, I also lost my mother. On her death bed the gave me many useful monitions, and above all things enjoined me, immediately on her decease, to attach myself to a maiden sister of my father's, who she knew would be kind to me and superintend my conduct.This injunction I promised to obey, for though I was left in affluence, had been decently educated, and had many friends, I was not so confident in my own experience as to suppose I needed no guide. I had been taught to look up with reverence to my aunt, and as I knew she was fond of me, felt no reluctance in submitting to her government.AsAs soon as my grief for the loss of a very valuable parent subsided into calm melancholy, I wrote to my aunt, informed her I was an orphan, and begged her either to come to me or to send for me. She immediately answered my request by her presence, and when my pecuniary affairs were put in a proper train, I left my paternal habitation and committed myself to her care. She seemed pleased at my compliant disposition, promised me, and, I must own, omitted nothing that could console me under my recent affliction.I had been but a few weeks at her house when overtures of friendship were made to me by several young ladies in the neighbourhood, to one of which in particular I was very attentive--our minds seemed to tally--I experienced a new sort of pleasure in the exertion of latent affections, and promised myself much happiness from an intimate connexion.I readilyI readily imparted to my aunt, whose goodness merited all my confidence, the union I was forming: she did not receive it with the approbation I expected: she warned me against sudden acquaintances; represented how difficult it was to recede after we had once made advances, repeated the old admonitions of eating a peck of salt, &c. and told me she had, through life, made it a rule, and she had never found reason to repent it, to be courteous to all but familiar with none. The doctrine was not agreeable to me, but I expressed my non-concurrence only by observing that all acquaintance must be sudden, as the overture was the act of a moment, that time would either establish or dissolve our connexion, and that as the experiment would at worst cost me a little uneasiness of mind, I was disappointed in not being allowed to make it. My aunt was not offended at my ingenuousness, she said I might pur-
sue
sue my own way if I preferred it, but that if I meant to follow her
advice as to my conduct, I must trust her experience.--This was twotoo reasonable to be disregarded or controverted, I promised to be guided by her, and the next time I saw, my new friend I put on rather a reserved air: I saw her turn from me with a look, of contempt, and heard her say to a lady, near her, that I was either very deceitful or capricious.As the time approached when I was to change my dress, in all the necessary purchases I made I consulted my aunt, and though I thought her very difficult to, be pleased, I always approved or condemned as the dictated, for her arguments were unanswerable, and the gratitude her repeated marks of affection inspired me with, took from me all inclination to thwart her.--But here I must confess my patience was almost exhausted:--light colors soiled soon--dark
shewed
shewed dust--rich silks wore out by, their thickness, slight ones had no substance, in short, no manufacturer seemed to have hit the medium in my aunt's mind.The disposition of a considerable sum of ready money left to me was the next object of my relation's caution: how to place it to the best advantage, and with the greatest security, was a matter that wholly employed her thoughts. What say you, madam, I asked, to its being invested in the funds?--The funds are ticklish--they sink every day.--Shall I get a friend to look out for a landed purchase? No; tenants are every day breaking, and then you have the lease again instead of your rent. Would it, be well laid out in houses?--Repairs eat up the rent--Shall I intrust it to a banker till we can find some way of investing it?--Two bankers in last gazette.--In short, before any thing was agreed on, the executor who was to pay me my
legacy
legacy decamped and eased me of all my doubt about the disposal of my money.--My fortune, without this addition, was more than enough for me, and as my aunt convinced me she had done for the best, I felt little uneasiness on the occasion.As I was thought to have some portion of beauty, and was known to possess a considerable income, I was not long without offers of marriage. My first lover was a young gentleman of large estate in the next county, and good character.--I own my affections here were not passive, but as in so important an affair, I should have been inexcusable had I not consulted my aunt; when he put the question to me I referred him to her.--She would give him no answer till she had talked to. me on the subject, and from this I augured that my inclination would be consulted; but when we came to discuss the matter I was so. over-
powered
powered with doubts and arguments, that I could only wish I had never seen him. A country gentleman was the most uncomfortable creature in the world--had nothing to do but to spend his overgrown fortune--no pursuit, no employment--that he would either settle into a drinker or a fox-hunter--the healthiness of the place he lived in was not certain--agues were very frequent--many of his family had died young, &c. &c.--When the council rose, the young gentleman's dismission was agreed on--he would take it from no one but myself--I behaved as readily as I could, though I convinced him of my resolution to persevere in my rejection of him, I could not conceal that my heart tongue were at variance.To console me I had, as soon as it was known I was disengaged, an offer from one of the first merchants in the kingdom, who proposed his son to me
--I was
--I was little inclined to listen to him, but suffered him to apply to my gouvernante. Here was wealth, employment a town-residence, and I was almost afraid my aunt would find nothing objectionable, but happily the winds and the waves interposed--a fortune at sea was ever precarious, and the. match was postponed till Neptune and Boreas would resign their posts. This was no mortification to me; nor did I wish my next candidate better success; however, I sent him to my aunt's dressing-room. He had a lucrative post in a public department--A friend of my father's had been turned out of a place of a thousand a year at a moment's warning, and in these times of œcononiical reform, there was no dependence on appointments--so my placeman was rejected.In the next instance my wishes favored the application--the remembrance of first disappointment was no longer pain-
ful,
ful, and I really began to be wearied of the rule of circumspection. A gentleman in our neighbourhood had, with a noble publick spirit, engaged in an undertaking for the advantage of all the adjacent counties, and his liberality of mind in thus employing a large fortune without the hope of greater gain than all to whom his scheme was beneficial would derive from it, attracted my respect, and I was not displeased when I heard from my aunt, that he wanted only a little encouragement from form one of my friends to address himself to me. This encouragement, as I did not oppose it, my kind counsellor promised to give him, provided I would suffer my inclination to be steered by her prudence. As she really seemed to desire the success of, this proposal, I. gave, her my word to be guided by her. My lover was introduced, and as three months elapsed without producing any obstacle,
I thought
I thought myself finally disposed of but it then untowardly happened that a scheme similar to that which I had so admired, but in a distant part of the kingdom, from accidents to which this was not liable, failed, and the projectors suffered considerably. Caution again shewed her ugly face--my fortune should never be risqued in ditch-digging. My aunt saved me the pain of publishing her edict: she offended the young gentleman by contumelious expressions, and he departed angry and wifeless.Two lovers now offered their consolations: the one a man of Law; the other a votary of Mars. My legal beau was soon silenced--he was of that branch of the profession where he must depend on his voice, and a cold might deprive him of it.--Personal danger was pleaded against red-coat, and he raised the siege.My frequent rejection and extreme nicety did not raise the rank of
my sui-
tors.
tors. The curate of the parish, perhaps, perceiving that I acted without rule, and it is not impossible, supposing that as I had refused so many good offers, I preferred one beneath me, came one Sunday after he had been preaching on 'Take no thought for the morrow,' to tender me his confession of faith. My aunt was in the room at the same time, and I began to fear I was destined for the parson but happily he bragged of his expectations from the death of a lunatic brother, and my aunt, in my name, declined all connexion with the moon.I had now an enemy in almost every profession, and should have wanted amusement for a whole winter if the sea had not sent me one of her children, a blunt good humored captain, who would take no refusal. His occupation was as strong an objection with me as with my aunt, but it was impossible to get rid of him
by
by any other way than quitting our abode for a time. We accordingly set off for the sea-coast, and here I thought I was to experience new mortifications, for the first gentleman I met was he who had first addressed me: the chain of obedience now galled me more than ever; he made overtures towards a renewal of our acquaintance, but the power that controuled me soon dismissed him again.My situation was now so seriously uneasy, that I proposed a removal from, the place, but to this my aunt shewed great dislike--much greater than I could account for, till at the next ball I perceived her extremely gracious to a gentleman of slender fortune. but genteel person and address, whom, had he offered himself to me, I should have rejected as being under age. Him, one morning, without apprising any body of her intention, she made her husband and
my
my uncle!--I was thunderstruck when she returned from church and told me her errand thither. It was immediately the conversation of the place, and she found the only way of inclining me to defend her was, at last to allow me to. chuse for myself. When left to my own decision all obstacles vanished, and I had the mortification of reflecting, that I had, without any reason, made a very worthy man for a long time unhappy, and that I had raised the. hopes of many to no purpose but that of making myself ridiculous.I am, Sir,
Your most obedient,PENELOPE.No XX. SATURDAY, Jan. 13, 1787.--Meretricious graces to beguile.COWPER.SIR,THERE subsists at this time an error in female education, which I fear you will overlook, it having obtained nearly a right of prescription; but it is such an error as I, and I believe many thinking people see in a serious light, and from which, consequences unpleasant to contemplate are augured.The last five and twenty years have produced a total revolution in the mode of educating our women: they are no longer kept in ignorance nor confined to domestic attainments: they share the pleasures and advantages of literature and science, and their excellence has added new charms to society.ButBut however agreeable this change in national opinion and practice, (and I am sure no man rejoices in it more than myself) I am sometimes tempted to wish for a regulation of this change, and never more than when that error, which I am about to remark to you, obtrudes itself on my view.What I mean is, the custom of giving to a girl accomplishments for a purpose little better than meretricious. We do not seek so much to make them virtuous and amiable, as attractive, and are more intent on making them wives and procuring for them a splendid situation, than on rendering them desirable friends and the favorites of Heaven. In short, moral qualities are the last they are taught, and, an expensive, an extravagantly expensive education, is justified by the hope that Miss's accomplishments will make her fortune. The.
event frequently confirms the hope, the
young
young lady is raised to a coronet--but there our views must be bounded, for should we dare to penetrate farther we shall perceive that modern education is no proof against the basest degeneracy of mind, nor any protection against the infamy annexed to vice.I would not be understood to reprobate the practice of adorning and polishing the female mind to the utmost, where rank, situation or fortune make it requisite or expedient, for honorable purposes. Infinite, pleasure may be communicated to the object of tuition, and as much derived from her attainments by studious cultivation. To make myself clearly understood, and to impress my readers with a sense of the evil I combat, let us take a serious view of the modern system of female education and its effects.There are two classes of people to whom advice on this subject is not im-
per
pertinent: the first, such parents, or their substitutes, as are elevated to high rank and can chuse their method, unrestrained by œconomical considerations: the other, such as bestow their money in the hope of raising a daughter or ward to a situation to which that she is placed in give her no pretensions. In the first instance, if my observation deceives me not, the plan of education, when it is solicitously attended to, is generally (for from all censure or admonition let me except parental love guided by good sense and discretion) this:The first three years of the young lady's life are necessarily spent in the nursery: she is humored and indulged to the utmost, bribed to do every thing she is desired to do, and rendered as ungovernable as possible, for the benefit of her teachers; as soon as she begins to ask pertinent questions, her emulation is excited by hearing how lady
Frances
Frances reads, and seeing how lady Mary dances: a governess is procured; a dancing master is engaged, and by all the arts that can encourage pride and self-conceit, Miss is encouraged to exertion: instruction is poured on her young faculties faster than she can receive it: lady Frances came out at fifteen perfectly accomplished, and Miss must not be behind her in time, nor fall short of her in elegance: her levee has now the addition of a music master, a master for writing and accounts, a master to teach her her own language, and others for French and Italian, a master for geography, a drawing master, &c. &c. with a promise, that if she applies, she shall next year learn Latin and Greek, and, should the fashion gain ground, Spanish. The superabundance of her leisure is devoted to learning, embroidery, filagree work, wafer work, &c. &c. &c.AnAn expense I believe in many instances of more than
1000l. qualifies our pupil for public appearance, her
accomplishments are forced on the observation of all who visit at the
house, she is to produce her various works to the ladies, she is to
sing to the gentlemen, she is to bear a part in all conversation, and
above all to avoid the imputation of mauvaise honte: personal decorations of all sorts are to aid the charms of her person, she is to ride on horseback in Hyde Park for the sake, not of health, but exhibition. In a word, all the endeavors of the young lady or her friends are directed towards her becoming conspicuous, and in a year or two, if she does not first elope with one of her masters or some captain in the guards, she becomes a titled lady.Here, in this crisis of life, the imprudence I ensure is visible. Few husbands are pleased with a young, gay,
and
and perhaps beautiful woman's striving to gain admirers; but madam is not to be controled: her music and language masters employ her morning, dress the evening, and public amusements the night. My lord grows suspicious, indifferent and unkind, forms other connexions, and scarcely ever sees his  cara sposa. Like lady Teazle in the play, she is most provoked at his suspecting without a cause: she takes the best method to procure a divorce, and voluntarily consigns herself to infamy.That education in which the expense is bestowed with a view to supply want of fortune or rank, is still less commendable: here Miss is kept ten or fifteen years at a boarding school, in which time she becomes mistress of all the arts of deceit and intrigue, learns languages in such perfection as defies .the criticism or comprehension of the natives, furnishes her mother's best room with
screens
screens of her governess's work, and landscapes of her drawing master's painting; plays on the piano forte without an ear, sings without a voice, and dances without grace. So fine a lady is Miss transformed into, that she can do nothing useful: she hates home because of the nasty shop or the vulgar street; she fills the house with her intimates, spends her evenings in cards and her father's income on her dress. I need not point out the situation of this young woman in case of any misfortune happening to her father, nor the track she would probably. fall into. I shall only consider her as succeeding in her friend's design of marrying her advantageously.East India is the soil in which this hopeful off-set must thrive: the envy of all her acquaintance is excited by the trappings she carries out: she escapes the dangers of the sea and all other dan-
gers
gers of the passage; and reaches Bombay, where she is exposed in a manner that makes my blood curdle when I think of it, to the gaze of all the men who are gaping for a cargo of matrimonial candidates, and after being surveyed, as if the were a horse, becomes the property of some venal wretch who has grown rich by murder or oppression.Regard to moral qualities is here totally laid aside; Miss's fortune is made, and perhaps in seven years she returns to her native country and enjoys the felicity of insulting the humble and industrious daughters of frugality and content. The town is sickened with the sight of her, her jewels, and her equipage: she is too grand to associate with the less fortunate companions of her youth, and below the notice of persons of rank and family, so that her situation would be nearly solitary if she were nice in the choice of her intimates; but
this
this she wisely is not, my lord's mistress is very fond of her, they are inseparable, she can stand all reproach and contumely--for she is rich.In her family she is imperious; she forgets that she has left the land of slavery and barbarity, the tyrannises over all, but without wholesome severity: her servants are suffered to plunder her because frugality is vulgar, but a failure in personal respect to her is punished by immediate dismission and loss of character. To her husband she is negligent and ill humored; he reproaches her with ingratitude; she denies any obligation to him they live together as strangers, are frequently on the brink of parting, a measure so necessary to their peace, that it would long ago have been carried into execution but that the husband finds her curtain lectures efficacious in driving away, for a time, those horrors which the methods
by
by which he acquired his unwieldy wealth are continually presenting to his view when alone.Thus, the companion of guilt and an evil conscience, she drags on a life of misery which she is doomed to aggravate: at last comes, yet still unwelcome, the liberating hand of death--in inquietude and terror of she knows not what, she resigns her being, and leaves a character contemned and execrated.Your very humble servant.No XXI. TUESDAY, Jan. 16, 1787.In diff'ring breats what diff'ring passions glow!GARTH.THE contrast formed by the two following letters, though on the same subject, seem to require that they should appear together.SIR,I AM husband to one of the most amiable women in the world, in
whom, tho' our eldest son is now three years of age, I have been able
to discover but one fault, and that I can scacrelyscarcely doubt your kindness in printing this letter will incline her to correct. This fault is filch as few wives are subject to, and fewer husbands were ever heard to complain of; it is
that
that of excessive compliance:--yes, Mr. Pharos, it is her acquiescent disposition that I would change.In this degenerate age, it cannot be denied that the united prudence and counsel of two persons, are not more than sufficient for the safe convoy of their offspring through the dangers of childhood and youth; and he must be both ignorant and conceited, who imagines himself singly equal to the task. It is the province of the master of a family to regulate the grand outline of life, to see that the source is proportionate to the current of expence, and to make that interior government, which devolves on his partner, as little burthensome as possible. When he has done this, he has done all that is consistent with his character, and may then apply himself to the duties of his profession, if he has one, or follow the bent of any innocent propensity, always proposing, as the end
of
of his labor, the good of society, and with a particular regard to the interests of his family.As these are my principles, I hope I may affirm this has been my practice. I have endeavored to repay the obligations I am under to my wife by leaving her mistress of her own actions, and have strove to render her respected by admitting no appeal from her decision. But the general tenor of her conduct is such as reduces her to the rank of a cypher. She postpones giving her servants directions necessary for their business till she has, what she calls, my orders, and will determine on nothing, not even the most trivial thing, without my personal concurrence, so that I am forced frequently to embroil myself in the reprehension of the maid servants, and am uniformly summoned to a council with the milliner or mantua-maker.ToTo please me is, I am certain, my wife's chief, and, indeed, I may say her only aim, but this is obtained not seldom at the expence of my character; for those who see me deciding on such unimportant matters, must imagine I voluntarily interfere in that which is beneath me, or that my wife stands in the same awe of me as a Sultana does of the grand Turk, whose displeasure she fears may by one stroke annihilate her.But the most serious evil, consequent on this solicitude to procure
my imprimatur to everything, is that I am, by it destitute of the assistance my wife is very capable of affording me. There is not only great pleasure, but great advantage in talking over with a friend any subject which requires deliberation, and as we live in the utmost confidence, I, therefore, if I am about to make a purchase or to do any aft that affects her interest, or the well being of those dear to her,
communicate
communicate it to her and ask her opinion: but although she is (or I would never have married her) a woman of uncommon sagacity and prudence, with an enlarged understanding, and capable of chusing her path in any situation in life, I can never prevail on her to aid me by her advice. She always fishes for my opinion, and so exactly accommodates her own to it, that I never knew her object where she thought I approved, nor could make her approve where she supposed I disliked. This you will say is an evil not to be complained of, that it leaves me at liberty, and that the uneasiness it secures me from more than recompences the loss I sustain. I admit that my situation with a woman who would perpetually thwart me must be infinitely worse, but this acquiescence has often hid from my eyes what I wished to have seen.--I have in more than one instance trusted, through mere necessity,
to
to my own judgment, she coinciding in my opinion--I have had reason to repent my doing so, and she has then revealed some circumstance which, had I known it, would immediately have determined me to a contrary course, and when I have endeavored to convince her immediately that she was wrong, she has excused herself, for she never attempts justification, by saying, she saw how I was inclined; and that no evil could be so terrible to her as that of offending me.There is a sort of--I do not know what to call it--a sort of implicit obedience and abject attention which reflects disgrace on those to whom it is paid.--It is in the power of our relatives to behave so as to make the ,world hate us. By appearing awed at our approach, or restrained by our presence, our wives and children give the witnesses of their subjection to understand that we require it; that the austerity of our tempers, or the
caprice
caprice of our humors forces them tot by my two correspondents, we might continual circumspection, and that it is necessary to our hahpiness that they should be miserable.Do then, good Pharos, do assure my wife that I am not the terrible monster I believe she thinks me; that I am not of a nature to behave with severity, that I could more readily forgive any error she can be guilty of, than this troublesome complaisance, that she defrauds me that the duty of a wife is not fulfilled by remaining uniformly passive.Your'sS.P.Happy would my next complainant be could he endue his fair with a little of this quiescence. Could we blend the characters of the two ladies described
by
by my two correspondents, we might produce them agreeable partners.Sir or Madam, or whosoever, or whatsoever you be,I AM told you intend exhibiting the pictures of some people in this great town, in hopes that they will know their own and amend the faults you point out. I am advised by a friend to put myself under your care, and therefore, though with little more faith than would purchase a lottery ticket, I send you my case.I have a wife to whom I have been married ten years, and I think I may venture to say, no man ever made a more prudent choice or found more good qualities in a partner, but yet from one foible in her temper proceeds such frequent uneasiness, and, I am so much teazed by what I love her too
much
much to tell her of, that I am continually worried into ill humor, which it costs me great pains to conceal.This foible is an inclination to mend every thing, a quality which one would suppose could be productive only of good--I must instance it to convince you of the. contrary. Soon after our marriage I surprised her by a present of some ornamental plate, and hoped she would receive it as a proof of affection, and be pleased with the form it was conveyed in.--She expressed herself much obliged to me, but intimated how much better it would have been in candlesticks, as we then might have eight card tables without borrowing. She said so much about it that I was forced to yield, and, at a loss, to change my elegant epergne into candlesticks.In a few months afterwards she found out how much more convenient a coach would be than a chariot, and again, at
a con
a considerable loss, I gratified her. She then on the accidental remove of our next door neighbor, discovered that his house would suit us better than our own: I could not deny it, though the inconveniencies of that we lived in were trivial, and not adequate to the trouble of a remove; but my wife thought it better, and I was well off in losing but half a year's rent--this change suggested abundance of improvements in furniture, &c. and the account at the time of our being what, you may call warm in the house, stood thus:LOSS.Half a year's rent- -£.600 0Advance of rent per ann. which for
7 years is10500Alterations and repairs -94100Upholsterer's and cabinet maker's bill87100 £.347 0 0GAIN.An additional stair-caseA powdering, roomA housekeeper's roomThe water conveyed to every storyWindows in drawing-room down to the floorI can affix no sums to the articles of gain, for their value exists only in my wife's head, so that instead of inserting them in my account I would say,
By pleasing Mrs. Meggot - £347 0 0But that I find to my cost now that our lease is near expiring, that I must seek another habitation, and I fear I shall never again know the comfort of being settled, for she always. prefers the last built street, and has hinted how much better it would be to take a house ready furnished for the winter.TheseThese whims, expensive and troublesome as they are, do not wholly occupy her mind, she is at leisure to attend to my minutest actions and to propose amendments. If I would ride, it would be better for my health to walk: if I put on one coat I must change it for another, lest it should be too warm or too cold for me. If I would ask a few friends to dinner, she advises me to postpone it (till they are all gone out of town) or makes me change the party and ask people I care not a rush for. In the article of servants I am still more pestered: I was for taking a staid sober fellow, whom I had known when a boy, as a footman, but my wife thought it better to take a French  petit-maitre, who can neither understand me nor I him, because the children, whom I leave intirely to her management, might learn French of him--I did venture to mention the impropriety of taking a foot-
man
man to be a language master, but my objection was over-ruled. I was not however long plagued with monsieur: he chose- to go partners with me in my cloaths, and some of the plate being lost much about the same time my wife was so good as to. hear my, complaint, and thought it better to part with her lacquey.In short, I could fill a quire of paper, were I to recount the various
particulars in which Mrs. Meggot shews her taste for improvement, but
I believe I have given you specimens enough to induce you to write at
this folly and to warrant my subscribing myself,Mrs. Meggot's
very uncomfortable husband,PATIENT.MEGGOT.The evil which has procured me the favor of Mr. Meggot's notice I con
fess
fess is grievous, but I am apt to think he mistakes the nature of it. It seems to me that this disposition to improvement is radically a love of power and a consequent delight in changing. The lady's method of government in some measure disguises her motive, for the rules not by open force but by entreaty; yet in effect it is the same whether a wife be a shrew or a wheedler: she has tried what means are most likely to gain her end, and the is a fool if she adopts any other. But however a victory of this kind may delight, I must ever condemn, as enemies to their own interests, all those, be they husbands, wives, friends, or relations of any sort, who strive for it. There is something so indicative of a bad mind in that selfishness which prompts us to purchase pleasure at the expence of another's real or imaginary ease or comfort, something so cruel in this misuse of the ascendency
we
we perhaps unmeritedly enjoy over the affections of those attached to
us, that were I to hear all the virtues of a saint ascribed to a
person of this character, I could not believe they had the least
particle of true charity in their composition.No XXII. SATURDAY, Jan. 20,1787.But the long pomp, the midnight masqueradeWith all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd,In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,The toiling pleasure sickens into pain;And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy,The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy.GOLDSMITH.'PUNISH not thyself with pleasure'--says that truly christian moralist, Sir Thomas Browne: a precept which it would be well for mankind if they observed; they would then, before they embarked on the deceitful ocean of delight, consider its coasts and its rocks; they would weigh possible gain against probable loss, and few who had studied this chart would be tempted to the navigation.It has been remarked of the English of the higher ranks, by
southern fo-
reigners,
reigners, that they seem to enter on all recreations with apathy; that they are not exhilarated by the amusement they partake of, that their native gravity is never wholly laid aside, and that they may, in their hours of festivity, be distinguished from other people by an inexpressive countenance and demeanor.This observation is I believe in general just, at lest my own sensations corroborate it, for I never was present in any assembly, met for the purpose of what is called diversion, without feeling myself as much at leisure to reflect and as prone to contemplation as in my study. In this particular I am certain I am not singular. I have found such of my companions as had thinking minds, as willing to converse on serious subjects in the corner of a card-room as in a private  téte-à-téte, and was hardly ever better entertained than one evening when, by favor of the recess of a bow-
win
window, I heard a very beautiful and most elegant girl, who had just risen from a whist-table, relating to a friend the substance of a lecture in natural philosophy which she had attended in the morning.Admitting then, what can never be soberly denied, that pleasure is dangerous, and giving credit to the remark that the English do not appear engrossed in the actual enjoyment of it, is it not wonderful that it should be sought with such avidity in this metropolis? That we should excel, as we certainly do, most of the surrounding nations in our variety of it; and that people thus phlegmatic should, during nine months of the year, divide their time almost without intermission between the pursuit of pleasure, the preparation for it, and the necessary repose after it? A strange incongruity this appears!--That it "does exist among us all London can witness for the avi-
dity
dity is notorious, and the disappointment it meets with is often confessed: the individuals who are ever attendant on a masquerade or ridotto are generally honest enough to own their pleasure dearly purchased--Could we but inspire the opera cognoscenti or theatrical devotées with sincerity, an irrefragable testimony would be adduced; but here fashion,
-----'and the dread laugh 'Which scarce firm philosopher can scorn,'
interpose: none dare confess the weariness they feel, but their gestures, their countenances, sufficiently proclaim it.Observe lady TOWNLY in her box at the opera--her subscription to this exotic region of fascination left her unable to discharge a long standing debt of five pounds--could she better prove her love for the opera?--Now let us endeavor to discover the pleasure whole sensations the so heroically purchased.TheThe last act is begun and she enters with three friends--all, doubtles amateurs--hark! they speak--certainly they are expressing their admiration of that sweet song.--Did you ever, says her ladyship to her female companion, see any thing so queer as my lord to day? he was in downright ill-humor--extravagant indeed! Who has better right to be extravagant than myself? It was after dinner, answers her fair counselor, so you must forgive it--he said the burgundy was excellent. Pray, asks the captain, was Miss Carmine's head dress a new fashion or her own device? Nay, ask Sir John that question, cries her ladyship, he is in all her councils. Sir John protests his ignorance--they all laugh--he retires--a new friend enters. Who is dead; who is married; who is going to Brighton, &c. &c. now fills their minds and employs their unceasing tongues--the company change every
five
five minutes--those near them in the pit who come to hear the music are disturbed and offended--they direct no gracious looks towards her ladyship's box--they flare--she bites her lips to set off her teeth--the curtain drops--she does not perceive it--laughs at her own stupidity--protests the gentlemen shall not have. the trouble of seeking her servants--nods at one--dashes a curtesy to another--returns home and gives a decisive opinion on the merit of the composer. What now was the pleasure lady Townly purchased? Did you not see her new plume of variegated feathers?--her business was to exhibit them.Turn to the playhouse. See in the stage-box NARCISSA: she was ready to swoon when the heard she was too late in applying for places for the new tragedy; an accident gave her the opportunity of seeing it; suspense and acci-
dent
dent endear enjoyment--look at her now--how does the manifest her delight, or even her attention? She is humming an air in a whisper and ideally prancing it by the motion of her fingers--now the counts the sticks of her fan--adjusts her handkerchief--and surveys every part of the house except the stage. You think her expectations are disappointed--she does not like the drama, or is disgusted at the performance of it: listen to the answer she will give Philander, who is now asking her opinion. 'Tis a charming tragedy--what language! --fine sentiments--it is interesting to a degree. Siddons shone excessively--her performance was quite capital--in the first style--she went beyond her herself--how delightful her dress was!--it was on the whole very well played--I never saw any thing go off better--I have been in raptures the whole evening--whose is the farce?--is it clever? Ah Narcissa! had you been in raptures, or had you felt
the
the force of scenic woe, you would not have appeared so vacant; you would not have commended with such insipid garrulity, nor would you be eager in your enquiries about the farce which must obliterate your former pleasure from your mind. Hear PHILANDER'S opinion of it when he gets among his friends in the lobby. It is the vilest bore ever imposed on the town--stupid stuff--so indeed are all modern tragedies, and the comedies are not much better--it is doing penance to hear such trash. But yet, Philander, you are to be seen .every night in the boxes. Yes, I always come in some part of the evening. Why? if you do not like modern tragedies or comedies.--Faith I cannot tell--its something to do.--What must home and his own thoughts be to Philander?Yet however unaccountable the eager desire of amusement which does not en
gage
gage the attention, it is reasonable compared to the folly now prevalent of following pleasure at the risque of fortune, reputation, and health, without that real love which conceals the evil or the danger from ourselves and merely for fashion's sake : this is really punishing with pleasure; but though the punishment is repeated as often as the transgression, perseverance is seldom conquered. The. father of a family, to distinguish himself, spends in riot and excels what should provide for his rising progeny: his wife is betrayed by dissipation into criminality; his sons are men of the town, living without visible means, and his daughters die in early youth emaciated, decrepid votaries of folly.Were the evils resulting from this ardor distant, or their source dubitable, neglect would be pardoned, but those who escape them are exceptions to a rule: they are natural consequences and as
such
such ever to be looked for. A very short commentary on the Gazette would prove how much this folly affects pecuniary interest; that it injures the morals daily experience lamentably proves. A Physician at Bristol has alerted, from his own observation, that the number of young women lent to die in that place increases every veal; and to bring it home to our own city, let any one in the months of March and April, when the temptations to noxious pleasures are most frequent, notice the contenances of the drest dolls in coaches and vis-à-vis, and he will, notwithstanding the enamel of rouge and pearl powder, discover the haggard traces of languor and disease--disease brought on by persisting in a course of life which thousands, if they could be taught to speak ingenuously, must confess never afforded them one hour's real pleasure, either in the enjoyment or reflection.ButBut notwithstanding the present unpromising appearance, a time will, I hope, arrive, when this folly will be seen and banished the female part of the community: the manner in which children are now educated teaches them the means of employment and rational amusement--idleness therefore will be proscribed, and with her much temptation to irregularity will depart. I think I foresee the downfal of cards as a private recreation, at least they will be appropriated to the amusement of those whom age and infirmity debars from other employment they will then be .not only innocent but useful. Rational conversation is gaining ground--good sense is cultivated, and I do not despair of seeing the English ladies distinguished as much by their accomplishments as by their beauty: let them be careful to make the improvement of their hearts in all moral excellence, but keep pace with their other acquisitions,
and
and vice and ignorance will be strangers in this society.--O that I
could prophecy a reform in the male species!--Alas! I tear our island
is endowed with a limited quantity of intellectual excellence, for
verity I think what our women gain our men lose.No. XIII TUESDAY, Jan, 23, 1787.--Most of all in man that ministersAnd serves the altar, in my foul I loatheAll affectation.--What! will a man play tricks--.--in presence of his God?COWPER.SIR,TO read well is to possess an agreeable talent, and much pleasure is communicated by the exertion of it: it is a delightful regale to hear the words of an elegant author delivered with propriety, and, where the subjects admits or requires it, with energy and pathos. Of this no one can be ignorant who has ever been soothed by the music of judicious modulation, or who has been doomed to witness the murder of good
sentiments
sentiments and fine language by dull monotony or ill-placed emphasis.Sensible of the power of the human voice, our rising race of clergy are growing very assiduous in the attainment of this attractive species of excellence many of them, I am told, are the pupils of players, and of such persons as either sagacity or application has entitled to the office of teachers; in consequence of which endeavors and instructions our reading-desks and pulpits no longer send forth unimpassioned murmurs, but echo to all the various tones of the organs of speech.I do not mean to enquire how fit the tutors, our spruce parsons chuse, are qualified to direct them in the discharge of a duty which requires nothing more than what good sense and an attention to propriety would enable any one, who had an unimpeded utterance, to perform: what I would point out is the effect it has
already
already had, and the probability there is that a desire of popularity may render the delivery of the simple documents of Christianity ludicrous, and the precepts themselves disregarded.In reading the Prayers and the Litany a clerical candidate for fame can exhibit his correct judgment and nice discrimination in a very small degree: he therefore seizes every occasion of pronouncing, with various emphasis, and of opposing words to each other. He reads, 'Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses.'--Wherever the nominative and the accusative cases meet in a sentence, they are strongly contra-distinguished; and a prayer for the well being of God's church has often been converted by a pointed delivery into a satire on such as .are not of that favored community.The psalms, as being the effusions of a mind actuated by human affections
and
and obnoxious to human suffering, afford rather more variety in their utterance. We hear consequently those that denounce the wrath of the deity fulminated from the desk; such as deprecate his vengeance insinuated with all the tremulous graces of pathetic intreaty and the song of joy recited with anacreontic levity.But the principal display of talents is reserved for the lessons where, as they consist of narrative, exhortation, colloquy, threats, supplication, and all the diversities of composition, there is abundant room for exhibition.--And here allow
 me to lament that it is in the power of every ignorant or conceited pastor of a Christian flock, who is either insensible to the beauties of holy writ, or more concerned for his own reputation with the vulgar than for the effect of his ministry, to obscure or affix a new sense to irrefragable truths and doctrine of the
highest
highest importance.--Moses and Aaron often scold in the reading desk. Joshua is a downright bully; Samuel is peevish; Elijah and Elisha one would take for conjurers--in short, few characters in the Old Testament escape being caricatured.--In the second lessons, I have heard that very weighty conversation, between our Saviour and the woman of Samaria, delivered in a manner that must have made a stranger to the divinity of one of the interlocutors suppose the woman had met with some one of her equals who was trying to puzzle her: the importunity expressive of faith and piety wherewith the Son of God was often besought to heal diseases or restore life, is made the clamorous outcry of a beggar in an alley, and if any reasoning ensues in the narrative, the odds are much in favor of its being rendered ridiculous. Interrogations are pronounced like our familiar questions--.What's o'clock?--
Where
Where are you going?--and the answer, if it contains reproof, seems to be that of a person checking the inquisitiveness of a child by imposing nonsense on it with a terrific aspect.--Our blessed Lord is made to speak not only as one of us, but often in the voice of jocularity; and his disciples, not as ignorant persons desirous of instruction, but as captious and offended cavillers.Betide this method of degrading; the church-service through vanity and affectation, there are two other ways by which a decent congregation are offended. The one is by that intolerable practice which as gaining ground apace, of substituting words or new arranging them. There is at this time a pragmatical son of the church who prefers beginning the several clauses of the Litany with May it please thee; in place of That it may please thee; ignorant I will venture to infer that the petitions and the supplication uttered by the
people
people form but one sentence, and that by his emendation he gives them a form and meaning never intended in their composition.--The same gentleman, in reading the lessons, omits the words And and Then at the beginning of a verse: he reads, Joseph could not refrain himself--Peter opened his mouth--It came to pass, &c. in place of Then Joseph--Then Peter--And it came to pass.--These affected deviations from the rule of respect to the translators and from good sense, might be more properly, as more mortifyingly, marked by fluent contempt and avoidance of the place where this emendator of our Liturgy condescends to officiate, but that he who invented them sets up for a teacher of his art, so that his practice may become prevalent to the no small offence of such pious persons as assemble to hear the word of God, not, to see what folly and conceit can effect.TheThe other method by which a congregation may be and frequently are disgusted, in that part of the service which is performed in the desk, is by the use of action, than which scarcely any thing can be more absurd or ridiculous; yet action is now thought to embellish the beautiful narrations of scripture. In the address of Joshua to the sun and moon, I have seen the right arm raised and the hand pointed, for want of the real objects, at the exalted charity-children.--The parable of the Pharisee and Publican has often given occasion for a resounding thump on the breast.--Where our blessed Lord is said to have used any action, the reader has adopted it, and so in numberless instances.I have put together these cursory observations with no other motive than I would avow to the parties whose practice I censure. I wish to see God served in the beauty of holiness, with decency,
regularity,
regularity, and humility. I go to church led thither equally by inclination and duty, but I own I cannot stifle my anger at the disappointment I often meet with in the substitution of coxcombly caprice for decent propriety; and I leave any one to judge how far a clergyman does his duty who in place of inspiring his auditors with the. sentiments of piety and respect, dismisses them irritated at his presumption or laughing at his ludicrous action.I am, Sir,
Your most humble Servant,A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.No XXIV. SATURDAY, Jan. 27, 1787.Learn the private virtues.THOMSON.THE present age has done more towards refining the female mind than any of its predecessors: whether the subjects of its attention are morally better for its endeavors is a disputed point which cannot fairly be adjusted, till the rising generation appear on the great stage of life. Meanwhile it may not be amiss to point: out some particulars in which we are certainly defective.In the rage for novelty, it is unpleasant to perceive that virtue must be new-fashioned to be acceptable: those qualities which adorned our grandmothers are wholly rejected--and rejected as if they were worn out and unfit for use;
whereas,
whereas, if they were impartially examined, it would be found that they might adorn the female character even at this day of improvement, that they might add virtue to elegance, and render her respectable who is already amiable.One of these antediluvian endowments is that of decorum or propriety of conduct, which is necessary to give our good actions their due weight, and without which the esteem of the judicious part of the world can hardly be hoped for. Beauty may be admired, good humor may be loved, but it is the peculiar property of decorum to be respected.Our deficience in this becoming qualification is observable in a variety of incidents; but it is most seriously to be lamented where it affects the personal deportment and apparently justifies unfavorable surmises, where it renders reputation suspected, or argues defiance of the
censure
censure of the world. Under this head must be ranked that species of
indecorum which allows the familiar intercourse of vice and virtue. A
lady of unimpeached honor now makes no scruple of appearing in public
walks with a gentleman notorious for libertinism. She thinks, and the
thinks justly, that virtue is its own defence, but she should also
remember that however virtue may repel the shaft of slander, it cannot
hinder its emission, that more are witnessess that it was sent than that it did not reach, and that when the aim was well taken, the slanders by will give it credit for having hit.--But on this species of indecorum, no hope of reformation can urge persuasion, for the beautiful, the titled, the rich HONORIA has married the dissolute Claudio, whose private vices have been adduced to lessen the enormity and penalty of guilt, and who, in a public court of law, wowed and enrolled himself a partici-
pant
pant in a crime which only the worthlessness of the injured party suffered him to commit with impunity,--O horrible! horrible!--most horrible!The indecorums of conversation are now so general that regularity, attention, or even good manners, are deviations from custom. It is this that has forced persons of talk and learning, and who are above the silly pastimes usually called in to deceive existence, to warn those they admit as guests, that conversation is their object, for from all mixed companies this delightful intercourse is banished. There is as much talking as ever, but no conversation.In dress we have wofully deviated from the rule of propriety: neither age nor homeliness are reasons against adopting, the practice of youth and beauty. The male sex are distinguished only into old and young fops. OPHELIA's curling flaxen hair and infant loveliness are im-
proved
proved by a hat à la paysanne, therefore her aunt URSULA decorates her brows with the same juvenile caprice, unconscious that from her solitude and ineffectual endeavors to appear young the is supposed much nearer sixty than in truth she is,--Now I am on the subject of this sort of indecorum which consists in the affectation of youth, will my readers pardon me if I introduce to them a  jeu d'esprit of a young gentleman not unknown in the train of genius.To Miss******* on her entering her fifty-sixth year.Dear Phil, for whom pert fops have burn'd,But now at length despis'd and spurn'dBy each disgusted lover,Be wife:--more solid charms acquire,Nor seek again the flame to inspire;The years of love are over.In vain cosmetics lend their aidTo hide the wrinkles time has madeWhereWhere roses erst were found:In vain the ringlets hang behind,All careless to the sportive wind,Tho' bought with many a pound.When lovely Delia quits the play,Two glaring flambeaux clear the way,And lords about her striveAmbitious but to call her chair--Delia's but in her twentieth year,But you are fifty-five.Or when by ev'ry muse refin'd,We mark the all-accomplish'd mindOf Damaris the wife;What though the boast not Delia's face,Yet ev'ry charm and, ev'ry graceHer native worth suppiies.But ah! the partial hand of Heav'nThe sense to her so largely given,Unkind to you denied;It gave you to allure the eye,A painted doll, a butterfly,But gave you nought beside.If then, unskill'd our hearts to warm,When blooming youth no more can charm,YouYou live without a friend,By girlish airs and vain pretence'Gainst decency and common senseForbear at least to offend.The athletic exercise of coachwomanship would never have become a female recreation had decorum remained among us.--Here, cries Paulina, you are inconsistent: CAROLINE whom you have often referred to as a standard of decorous conduct has long practised driving. Very true, Paulina, she has so--but how?--I do not call her's the athletic exercise--her horses are managed to her hand--her vehicle might be overturned without injury, for it is scarcely raised from the ground, and it never yet appeared in any place but her own park--there indeed she does indulge in an amusement which she makes not only innocent but laudable. See her take her feat--she is followed to her ca-
briole
briole by her multitudinous infants--some she places by her--one rosy boy laughing with delight she, after many injunctions to sit carefully, places in a corner behind her, his bacchante countenance peeping over her shoulder--some climb behind--others intercede to be lifted upon the horses: thus hung round with her care-demanding offspring, the seeks the fresh breeze of the hill or the defence of the shade, her attention not a moment occupied by the figure she makes, but solely directed to the amusement and advantage of her children. To him who beguiles the ascent by the repetition of some one of his daily talks, the whip is allotted in their return--with it he receives an admonition to the just use of power. The mother's heart swells with gratitude to the Universal Parent when she fees that her worth make the wished impression--she seeks her mansion of peace invigo-
rated
rated by her exercise--her companions' spirits are exhausted by ebullition--the lawn they say shall be their bed, and down they sink, at distances scattered over the grass: her voice alone prevails to their removal--each she blesses and embraces, and dismisses them to their rest.But look PAULINA at your equipage: see it whirling along the streets of greatest resort, or vermicularly steering ;through the dominical croud in Hyde Park, accessible only by a ladder; a weight that serves but to urge the speed of your four tall horses! Survey it well; still it cannot excite in you the admiration it attracks in exhibition, for you cannot see yourself in it. Then turn and regard your husband's tomb and think--for once, if you, can think--of your neglected daughters.Could our fair countrywomen be convinced that there is no beauty
which 
decorum
decorum does not heighten, no accomplishment, no natural endowment it does not adorn, and would the amiable and judicious part of them but dare to, act as their reason dictates, and Headily adhere to what they know to be right, how great an alteration should we soon perceive in female manners! Then should we see the woman of sense distinguished by the gracefulness of her deportment from the giggling thoughtless candidate for applause, and if the tongue of slander could not be stopped it would at least share the fate of Cassandra.A poet, whose judgment of female excellence has never yet been questioned, has described an old fashion lady in terms that almost make me with her copied. As the character itself is not common, I may perhaps stir up some latent spark of emulation by presenting it to my readers. Who knows but its
singu
singularity may give a hint for tome improvement?So absolute she seems,And in herself complete, so well to knowHer own, that what she wills to do or saySeems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best;All higher knowledge in her pretence fallsDegraded, Wisdom in discourse with herLoses. discountenanced, and like Folly shews;Authority and Reason on her wait,As one intended first, not after madeOccasionally: and to consummate all,Greatness of mind, and nobleness their featBuild in her loveliest, and create an aweAbout her, as a guard angelic plac'd.MILTON.No. XXV. TUESDAY, Jan. 30, 1787.Wrench from their hands oppression's iron rodAnd bid the cruel feel the pains they give.THOMSON.I devoted a morning in last week to visiting SEMPRONIUS, who, by the unexpected bounty (if I may so term it) of a distant relation has far outstripped. me in the race of fortune. We set out in life together with views and. hopes nearly equal: similarity of age and inclinations had made us close friends, and I now went most willingly to congratulate him on the possession of wealth, which I doubted not he would enjoy with philosophic moderation and use to the good of all around him, for many were the instances I recollected of his liberality to the necessitous when his finances were strait, and often have I heard him lament, that nature had given him feelings which must meet continual checks from pecuniary inability.InIn my ride to his place of residence, which is about twenty miles
out of the metropolis, he and his good fortune occupied my
thoughts. One fear alone entered my mind; that, as I knew the warmth
of his friendship and the generosity of his temper, I might be
prevailed on by his intreaties to quit my learned ease and
independence. In his now splendid situation many retainers must be
necessary, and some of their posts would, I guessed, be sufficiently
lucrative and honorable to tempt me--I pictured to myself that he
would urge me to the acceptance of some place in his housholdhousehold, some snug sinecure, perhaps created on purpose to shield his old friend from the chances of the world; that he would strengthen his solicitation by representing to me that, notwithstanding his immense wealth and boundless possessions, he should drag on life in dreary solitude, estranged by his exaltation from his former intimates and not cor-
dially
dially received among his equals, unless I would add to his many
blessings that of the uninterrupted society of friendship.--Then said
I to myself he will add--I must have a land-steward on whose integrity
I can rely--it is to be sure an office you are not accustomed to, but
you shall have every assistance and no trouble in the execution of it,
if you will but exonerate me from the necessity of being
suspicious--or perhaps he may say--I shall have occasion for a
chaplain --the family dignity requires something like a regularly
established housholdhousehold--religion, decency, and decorum are essential to dignity--take orders therefore; I have many advowsons on my estate and shall be offended if you, refute to let me serve you. To this imaginary kindness I hardly could frame a tenable objection, and when I stopped at his house my strongest resolution was to determine and act as I should see best.My friend has been long enough a
rich
rich man to have gone through all the business of inheritance. I found him alone and at breakfast, and was delighted to see in his countenance those marks of joy which indicated my being as welcome as ever to him: his person, it is true, I should scarcely have recognised: scholar-like negligence had given way to modish elegance, and a trip to Paris never effected a greater alteration than I saw in his demeanor and habiliments.But now ended all the pleasure of my visit: he rang his bell
impetuously, ordered the séve
déjeuné to be got ready in the Bunbury room, and
led me through a suite of splendid apartments to it--all my
remonstrances on the non-necessity of ceremony with an old school
fellow nothing availing.--We sat down to a repast fit for half the
peerage--my friend muttered something to himself--rang his bell
again--and ordered Mrs. Overall to be sent to him--She, a most
magnificent dame, entered, and I dis-
covered
covered that she was the housekeeper--her master was extremely civil to her, asked her some frivolous question and dismissed her, remarking to me, as soon as she had left the room, that such gentry expected to be treated with much deference.--Indeed, said he, she, is a very valuable servant to me--she outdoes my friend lord Lackland's French-man in fending up, and for petits soupés or an elegant collation--I believe she has not her equal--and these you know are things, for which one must make some condescensions--beside this, she keeps excellent order in the several domestic departments under her care--the or moulu--ornaments in the best rooms she has a recipe for making bright beyond any thing I ever saw--the silk damask furniture she inspects is every day to keep the housemaids to their duty--the chandeliers never looked so brilliant as since she came to me, and she rescued a pair of my point ruffles, which cost me twenty
guineas,
guineas, from the destruction in which an ignorant landress had involved them.Here was a pause, and I was going to introduce a topic fitter for male discussion, when Semproinius raising his voice to a Stentorophonic pitch, in the true spirit of lordly greatness called out--Who waits there?--William entered--he was told to order John to his master--John came; was asked a question which he could not answer--Thomas was interrogated--satisfaction obtained--breakfast finished, and I was invited to visit the stable-yard--for said Sempronius, I find great truth in the proverb, that the master's eye makes the horse fat, and where there are a great number some may be neglected.I was now regaled with the sight and history of all his horses, and heard him utter his magisterial orders to his coachman, his groom and stable boys: he gave directions for his phaëton to be prepared that he might driver me round
his
his park, and we returned to the house; my mind running back to the time when this man, my quondom equal, had invited me to share the expence of a day's horse-hire.In the interval, while the chaise was preparing, he begged my patience, till he had written an order to his silversmith in London, who was manufacturing defect service, and he feared would nor be sufficiently attentive to the engraving of the armorial ensigns--these fellows, said he, know very little of heraldry.The phaëton drove up to the door--we mounted, and now a new whim, seized my host--he would shew me the line of circumvallation round his park by passing through the hamlet, and hence he displayed his importance as well as his opulence by insolent behavior. We rated his servants, stopped to make captious enquiries if he saw children collecting sticks or gathering boughs; threatened one peasant with the stocks, another
with
with the lash; told them they were all poachers and thieves, and, having by this time reached the most distant gate of his park, entered his own domain, where I hoped he would at least be ostentatious without cruelty. Now nothing was to be heard but--this is mine--that belongs to me--this I shall remove--there I shall make an improvement.--I was heartily weary.--Again we gained the house, where plans for the new disposition of his gardens waited him;--he could not attend to them without the advice of his friend the duke--an appointment was then to be made some miles off. The man employed to project the improvements was reprehended for coming unseasonably and dismissed with insolence.My friend now went to dress, and ordered me to be conducted towards the shrubbery to beguile the time:--thither I went, to meditate, not on the extensive possessions around me--not on the
en
enviable greatness of wealth, or the glorious liberty it buys to ill use our less fortunate fellow-beings, but on the wisdom of Providence who, to repress our inordinate desires of sudden elevation and immoderate aggrandizement, does now and then let before our eyes an example of the bane this world's prime blessings carry with them.--Never till this time did I feel the comfort of nothing too much--never did I know the value of mediocrity. I considered myself as in, the state nature designed me for; my :friend in an element he was not formed to: he was a fish in the air, a bird in water--he was in danger of precipitation to the lowest abyss pride chuses for her votaries, or of drowning in a confluence of golden rivers. I lifted up my eyes to Heaven in silent adoration of his mercy, who had not made me the victim of his indulgence, and I besought him ever to withhold from me blessing too large for my grasp, or which I could use to the
injury
injury of his creatures. I was so lost in thought that I did not, till I was close to him, perceive an old gardener at work in the walk: he had scarcely strength sufficient to use his spade, and frequently, when he relied, looked round and shook his head. I stopped to observe and to convene with him, and introduced discourse by remarking that his work required the aid of younger hands. Aye, sir, said he, and younger hands must take it--this is my last day's service here--and it grieves my heart to leave the place--the trees and shrubs are so many children to me: those two elms you see there that are higher than any of the rest, I brought on my shoulder from the forest two and fifty years ago and planted in my old mailer's sight--he was then a lad--and a good master he was: God will bless him for all he did but for disinheriting his worthy son: I do think if he had lived a little longer he would have altered his will; it would
have
have been well for me, for his son would not have parted with a dog here. He bids me come to him and promises to keep me as long as I live; but he has a poor pittance for himself and a many children,--O! 'twas cruel to cut him off.Little as I knew of the hardship this old man was musing on, I felt myself strangely affected by his words, and enquiring of him, learnt that it was not to bounty or caprice that Sempronius owed his inheritance: the son of the testator had married the daughter of a neighboring gentleman with whom his father was litigating about the game on their manors. Beauty, worth, and love, had proved inadmissible excuses for the precipitance of youth; both the fathers were offended, and the young couple were left to struggle with indigence, which the heir to the estate had hitherto shewn no disposition to relieve.I had learned thus much when the master of the house came towards
us:
what
what I had observed of his deportment had, it is true, sunk him in my
esteem; but now I could scarcely behold him with any degree of
complacence: he appeared to me an usurper and a tyrant; therefore,
foreseeing the impossibility of my effectually concealing my chagrin,
I made excuse of an impending cloud which foreboded a storm and quitted his mansion with a resolution never to revisit it.The alteration which the sudden influx of wealth had wrought on the
mind of Sempronius, occupied me less than the cruelty by which he had
become rich. It brought afresh to my. remembrance the conduct of
Eunomus, in whose favor Irata would hive beggared her nephew. Eunomus
strongly opposed it, and refused to accept the bequest till she
threatened to leave her wealth to some other unallied person: he then
yielded, andd immediately on her  restored all to the young man.END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.