Imatges de pÓgina
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deprive yourself of them, and even your plain-faced filter may pretend to vie with you. However weak the confeflion, I myfelf have frequentiy bien delighted to trace the gaiety of your heart in every Speaking feature; and when I thought it my duty to chide you for some little impropriety in your sentiments, or expreffions, those lines of Mr. Pope have oficiously suggested themselves;

If to her share some female errors fall,

Look on her face, and you'll forget them all ; · notwithstanding they have been so vilely prostituted, at a vicious, fhrine. But, my dear, though, in the overflowings of my affection, I could thus excuse follies that I considered as having no other fource than youth, and a chearful unrestrained imagi. nation, I would not have the least charity for practical error; but I have hope that, like the coward, your big words proceeded merely from conscious security.

• Under the paternal rcof, and at a happy distance from the men, how have you blustered ! ---You was for leading all in chains; and, like Congreve's Millamant, making lovers when you pleased, letting them live as long as you pleased ; and when you was so weary

of them as to suffer them to die, in order to please yourself, making more. But remember, man is not a creature to be played with, meek and harmless though he may appear: can the lamb escape the lion's paw

unhurt? Their natures are callous, impatient of controul, enterprising, revengeful :—they have design in every action, their exprefsions are the result of premeditation ; and all connexion with them is as dangerous as the eye of the ballisk.

• Admiration is a tribute we involuntarily pay to beauty :gratitude is a noble sentiment; but as it is ever attended with a sense of cbligation, is sometimes painful :---but esteem is a lively, yet deliberate, approbation; has its foundation in good opinion, is increased by observation, and confirmed by every newly disco. vered perfection; it is the only sensation we mortals are capable of feeling juftly, as it is free from all the prejudice and violence of paffion, the heat of ambition, the narrow hopes and fears of self-love, and the folid anxiety of self-interest. business, your glory, to cultivate friendship upon this basis only, as it is the only one that can promise permanence ; for the attachment of a day, give it what name you please, is neither more nor less than idle caprice.

• You are now juit entering into life; and have it as yet in your power to eitablish that kind of reputation that appears most eligible in your sight; but it is a work that must be ever effecting, from the imposibility of its ever being wholly ac

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complished,

Be it your

complished; one neglect, one drowsy interval, may unravel the Jabour of years; and though, like Sysiphus, you may by indefatigable industry get the stone once to the top, yet will it roll back with the utmost impetuosity, unless you are perpetually upon your guard.

I tremble for your future fate ; your open, unreserved, voJatile disposition, will expose you to a thousand inconveniences from both sexes ; those who are practised in deceit, will be ape to consider even the amiable dictates of your heart as proceeding from the fame unworthy fource; and the quickness of your sensibility, by exciting warm attachments and warm resentments, will be ever producing you unavailing repentance and mortification.

. Can yoy, for the sake of our past friendship, have patience to read this long lecture, that has no other end in view than your happiness and advantage? and, with all humility, would caution you at this critical juncture (as your good genius) to beware.'

The courtship between Miss Pittborough and the colonel continues; and though Miss Hutchens practises many little arts to thwart it, their intimacy ripens into a mutual paflion. Adangerous fever into which Miss Pittborough falls, and froin which the recovers, confirms the lovers affection for each other, but proves unable to cure her of her giddy, diffipated, turn; which is to violent, that the colonel and Mrs. Hutchens concert a private scheme for bringing about the marriage, to which our heroine expresies no averfion. Her pride, however, is alarmed by the secret machinations of Miss Hutchens; and when she difcovers the colonel's and her aunt's design, she resents it as an insult upon her understanding.

Sir Matthew Sanxsey, an old battered beau, poffeffed of a good estate, but in every relpect the reverse of colonel Dingley, profeffes himself an admirer of Mils Pittborough; and though the hates and detests hiin, yet from pride and caprice, the refolves to punish the colonel by giving her hand to Sir Matthew. They accordingly make an elopement, and drive down to Scotland ; but finding fome qualms rising upon her du. ring the journey, she casts many a longing look bebind, in hopes of being pursued and rescued. Her expectations, however, prove vain, for they arrive at Edinburgh without any interruption, where the matrimonial noose is tied Mils Hutchens, who had a sneaking kindness for the colonel, in the mean time, maliages so artfully, that he comes to the knowledge of the elopement when it is too late. He instantly fets out for Edinburgh; but, before his arrival there, he finds his iniltres couverted into lad, Sanxley,

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The horror fhe feels at this change of her situation, as well as her bitter reflections on her own conduct, are pathetically described. The colonel narrowly escapes shooting her husband ; but though she loves the former as passionately as ever, me resolves to accommodate herself to the duties of a virtuous wife; and ashamed to appear again in the gay world, the persuades Sir Matthew to carry her to his old inhospitable seat in the West of England. Here he displays his true complexion of peevishness, jealousy, and ill-nature. During his absence lady Sanxsey strolls carelesly into the country in a postchaise, which being accidentally overturned, the lady is delivered from danger by an adventurous knight, who cuts the bråces, and who we need not tell the reader proves to be the colonel in propria perfona. The lover carries her into an adjoining cottagè, where their conversation is very tender and sentimential.--A furgeon arrives, who falls in love with lady Sanxsey; and the interview, through his imprudence, reaches the ears of Sir Matthew, who puts the worst construction upon every circumstance. Lady Sanxsey is confined and maltreated; the colonel goés abroad with his regiment, but returns hoine, and by the help of a disguife getting adınittance into her house, faves our heroine from being ravished by the surgeon. She falls sick, her:life is despaired of, but Sir Matthew dies before her. Afterwards, with great difficulty, she recovers, and is persuaded to marry the colonel.

Such is the story of this virtuous novel, which chastity may read without a blush, and the most intelligent may peruse with improvement. We are forry that the author, by confining herself to two volumes, has crowded too many incidents into the second towards the conclusion, in order to do poetical justice upon Mifs Hatchens, who is sufficiently exposed and punished. However, we cannot sufficiently recommend the inoral of this performance, which seems to be, That little passions, 'by being indulged, or rather played with, may become indocile and intractable ; and not only swallow up all the rest, but destioy. the most precious bleflings of life.

VII. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman.

Pol. IX. 8vo. Pr. 25. "Becket. Of all the comical devices contained in this volume, none is

so diverting as that of printing blank leaves, two lined pages, and the Hourish of a cudgel expreffed in a long serpentine line. I don't understand you, faid

my

father. Princ the flourish of a cudgel. Yes, please your honour, said Trim, and I'll Mew you the very flourith. Upon this the

corporal began to exercise his stick, which in one of his chie manoeuvres came to near Dr. Slop's nose, that my father smiled, my mother chuckled, uncle Toby frowned, and the doctor ducked his head. Well but, says my father, how could he print blank pages:Trim, cried iny uncle TobyYour honour -- Step home and bring the book:- Trim was not half.

- way down ftairs, when returning, Did not your honour lock it up with the map of Lille which we brought back from the widow. Wadman's? - Well remembered, Trim; take the key: I remember I committed such another mistake at the siege of Mons, when I forgot a demi-culverin which I locked up in a butter-firkin.My father stared at uncle Toby, but by this time Trim came back with the book. Pihaw or pilh, said my father (we cannot be certain which) when opening it; it appeared to be as my uncle Toby faid. See pages 69 and 70.

Uncle Toby's courtfhip of widow Wadman is the chief subject of this volume. The widow had an inkling of an ugly wound uncle Toby had got at a fiege, in a very inconvenient place.

Mrs. Bridget had pawn'd all the little stock of honour a poor chambermaid was worth in the world, that she would get to the bottom of the affair in ten days; and it was built upon one of the most conceffible poftulatum in nature : namely, that whilst my uncle Toby was making love to her mistress, the corporal could find nothing better to do, than make love to her

." And i'l let him as much as he will,” said Bridget, “to get it out of him.”

' Friendship has two garments; an outer and an under one. Bridget was serving her mistress's interests in the one -- and do. ing the thing which most pleased herself in the other ; so had as many stakes depending upon my uncle Toby's wound, as the devil hiinself---Mrs. Wadman had but one-and as it poliibly might be ber last (without discouraging Mrs. Bridget, or disa crediting her talents) was determined to play her cards herself.

• She wanted nos encouragement: a child might have look'd into his hand there was such a plainness and fimplicity in his playing out what trumps he had with such an unmistruft. ing ignorance of the ten-ace----

--and so naked and defenceless did he fit' upon the fame sopha with widow Wadman, that a generous heart would have wept to have won the game of hin,

Let us drop the metaphor.

? It is natural for a perfect stranger who is going from Lóndon to Edinburgh, to enquire before he sets out, how many miles to York'; which is about the half way nor does any þcdy wonder, it he goes on and alks about the corporation, &c.

It was just as natural for Mrs. Wadman, whose first hufband was all his time afiliated with a sciatica, to wish to know how far from the hip to the groin ; and how far he was likely " to suffer more or less in her feelings, in the one case than in the other.

• She had accordingly read Drake's anatomy from one end to the other. She had peeped into Wharton upon the brain, and borrowed Graaf upon the bones and muscles; but could make nothing of it.

. She had reason'd likewise from her own powers laid down theorems -drawn consequences, and come to no conclaGion.

To clear up all, she had twice asked doctor Slop, “ if poor captain Shandy was ever likely to recover of his wound ?"

He is recovered, doctor Slop would say, ¢ What! quite ?

Quite : madam • But what do you mean by a recovery? Mrs. Wadman would fay.

• Doctor Slop was the worst man alive at definitions; and fo Mrs. Wadman could get no knowledge : in short, there was no way to extract it, but from my uncle Toby himself.

• There is an accent of humanity in an enquiry of this kind which lulls suspicion to rest and I am half persuaded the · Serpent got pretty near it, in his discourse with Eve; for the propensity in the sex to be deceived could not be so great, that The should have boldness to hold chat with the devil, without it -But there is an accent of humanity-how shall I describe it is an accent which covers the part with a garment, and gives the enquirer a right to be as particular with it, as your body-furgeon.

-Was it without remission ?
-Was it more tolerable in bed ?
Could he lie on both sides alike with its
-Was he able to mount a horfe?

Was motion bad for it? et cætera. were so tenderly spoke to, and so directed towards my uncle Toby's heart, that every item of them sunk ten times deeper into it than the evils themselves, but when Mrs. Wadman 'went round about by Namur to get at my uncle Toby's groin, and engaged him to attack the point of the advanced counterscarp, and pêle mêle with the Dutch to take the counterguard of St. Roch fword in hand

and then with tender notes playing upon his ear, led him all bleeding by the hand out of the trench, wiping her eye as he was carried to his tent Heaven! Earth! Sea !all was lifted up the springs of nature rose above her levels2

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