Irene's parents were generally employed in reviving the fcene of their youthful days by no unpleafing details, and this was their chief folace when not engaged in domeftic bufinefs. Philidor and Irene, confulting only the emotions of their own hearts, had retired under a kind of an arbour, almost contiguous to the dwelling of the father of the latter. The cooing of the dove might be expreffive of the foft accents which breathed from the lips of both. But paternal hoftilities checked their ardour. "Should my father," fighed Irene, "know that I have an esteem for the fon of his enemy, what would he think of his daughter?-Where is filial affection?Where the pride of fe mality? "Should my father," replied Philidor, know that I could not withftand the charms of Irene, what could be my fault?What could be my crime? Excellency, female excellency is irresistible." He then lifted up his hands, bowed his head, and would have bowed upon the hand of Irene, which the withdrew, with all the dignity of her fex. Irene, with a countenence mixt with placidity and anxiety, replied—“ I know the duty of a daughter-I never will violate it. He that was the cause of my birth, ought to have the difpofal of my perfon. He will-he oughthe fhall !" My friend Irene," replied Philidor, you know that my filial attachments are equal to your's.Our attachments-but I must not mention them. I never would take your hand without the joint confent of both our parents. Our parents may, perhaps, be reconciled by the penchant which we have to each other. I believe (fhall I mention the word penchant a fecond time) that it will be the bond of union be tween two difcordant families." "Heavens grant it may !" replied Irene, with uplifted hands." But is not the attempt dangerous? Will not the avowal of our mutual wishes irritate the two parties?—I was going to fay oppefie. Should a denial be given on either fide, where are we ?-What is to become of us?-We had better endeavour to forget each other, than to try the iffue of fuch a tremendous experiment." The father and mother of Irene were liftening, with the window open, "Moft excellent of the fex," added to this converfation. They were pleafhe," you teach me e utys No-ed with the filial remonftrances of Ithing of this kind fhould be confirmed, rene and Philidor, and were determinwithout the confirmation of a ed to make any conceffion that could I will not fay that I fee your eyes pave the way to a reconciliation beyour offent to my remark-but let it tween the two families. be fo." The lovers feparated, reluctantly fe"It shall be fo," answered Irene: parated, but with an intention to fee "no alliance without that of our pa- cach other again. When Irene enterrents-their confent will give a fanc-ed into her houfe, her parents received tion to mine-without that I would choose rather to pine till I flide into the grave." "You teach me, Irene, what I ought to have been taught; but your eyes, your whole perfon, makes me a wanderer from filial duty. Were a negative to be put upon our--I do not know what to name it-were it to be crushed by negative from each of our parents-what-I leave you to fill up the period." her with a radiancy of countenance, which the never had noticed before, though they always were joyed to fee her. "Thou art deferving of us-thou art deferving of better parents-thou art deferving of better connectionsbut I muft recal," faid her mother, "better connections, for what connections can be fuperior to virtue, to honour? Philidor poffeffes them in the highest degree. I find that thy heart New Tranflation of Rouffeau's Emilia. is his, and his is thine. What fhould feparate hearts which heaven has nnited? Shall a family broil-fhall-1 will not utter the word." As her mother was uttering these ferved expreffions, Philidor entered into the room almoft intoxicated with foy." It is agreed upon!" exclaimed be, and stopped, for joy had fuppreffed his voice. After fome pause, he added- My worthy, my condefcending father, has told me that the whole country is lavish in the praifes of Irene-that he has no perfonal enrity against her, and that he could with that the had been another man's daughter." Aber man's daughter'!" interrupted Irene's father, with fome , warmth. " "Pardon me," anfwered Philidor, "I faid not that to dijahitge; I had not finifhed my application, nor my sentence. If," continued my father, "I could fairly get rid of this family quarrel, 1 fhould have no objection to a family alliance." "Would you defire any concef fons," replied I, "from Irene's fa ther?" "None, but that he would be as glad to receive you for a fon, as I would be to receive his girl for a daughter." "As his ambassador I am now folicitous that you would fay as much," added Philidor, and then paufed. Irene's father hesitated, looking at one time at his wife, and the other at his daughter, to develope their fentiments, and finding that they looked in favour of the family union, he very laconically replied "If your father is my friend, I am his, and let the family union be cemented as foon as he pleafes." The anfwer which Philidor carried back was not unpleafing to his father. The day of marriage was fixed. The ife of the connubial pair was attended with that happiness which thofe marriages, which have the mutual confent of parents, can only fecure. R 117 ROUSSEAU's EMILIA. A new Tranflation. (Continued from Vol. IX. page 592.) FR ROM thefe oppofites fpring that which we undergo inceffantly within ourselves. Led by men and by nature into contrary roads, forced to divide ourselves between thefe different impulfes, we follow a mixed one, which neither leads us to one thing nor another. Thus, in a manner wandering and wavering all our life time, we end it, without having been able to agree with ourselves, and without having been good, either for ourselves or for others. Is this then the domeftic, or the natural education?-But what will a man become for others, who is brought up only for himfelf? Perhaps, if the double object which is propofed could be united into one, by rooting out the oppofites which are in the man, a great obftacle to his happiness would be got rid of. To judge of him, you must have seen him in his ftate of formation, you must have obferved his inclinations, seen his progrefs, followed his footsteps; in a word, you must have known the natural man. I believe fome advance may be made in these researches, after having read this treatife. To form this uncommon man, what have we to do? A great deal, doubtlefs: it is to hinder any thing from being done. When the question is only to go againft the wind, the failors board; but if the fea is rough, and they want to remain in one fixed place, the anchor must be thrown out. Take care, young pilot, that your cable does not veer, the anchor flip, and the vefiel bulge before you are aware of it. In the focial order, where every place is dif tinguished, every one ought to be brought up for his own; if a private perfon be formed for a business, and leaves it, he is fit for nothing. Education is only useful, as it agrees with the circumstances and vo@ation of the parent; in every other cafe it is hurtful to the fcholar, were it only by the con conceited opinions which it gives him.] Varro fays-Educit obftetrix; educa nutrix, inflituit pedagogus docet megij ter t. We must then generalize our views and confider in our fcholar the ab In Egypt, where the fon was obliged to embrace his father's profeffion, education had, at leaft, fome fixed end; Thus, education, inftitution, and in but with us, where rank and titles are ftruction, are three things as differes hereditary, and where men change in their defign, as governels, precep continually, no one knows but that by tor, and malter: but thefe diftinction bringing up his fon to his own trade, are not well understood: to be w he does him more harm than good.-trained, the child fhould only follow In the order of nature, all men being one guide. equal, their common vocation is the ftate of man, and whoever is well brought up for that, cannot fiil badlyftracted man, the man exposed to a thole which relate to it. Let the ftddent be defigned for the army, the church, or the bar, it does not at all fignify. Before the profeffion of his parents, nature calls him to human Life: to live is the trade which I would wish to teach him. At his coming out of my hands, I believe he fhall neither be magiftrate, foldier, or pricft: he fhall first be a man; all that a man should be, he will know how to be in the time of need, as well as any body, and fortune may make him change his place in vain, he will always be in his own. Occupavi te fortuna, atque cesi: omneque aditus tuos interclufi, ut ad me afpirare non poffes *. Our true ftudy is that of nature.He, among us, who knows best how to bear the happiness and misfortunes of this life, is, in my opinion, the best brought up; from whence it follows, that the true education confifts lefs in precepts than example. We begin to inftruct ourselves, by beginning to live; our education begins with us; our first preceptor is our nurse. This word education, among the ancients, had another fenfe than what we give it; it fignified nourishment. the accidents of human life. If me were born attached to the climate their own country, if the fame feafo latted all the year, if every one was i fixed to his fate that he could ne change it, the practice establis would be good, in regard to fom things. The child brought up for h condition in life, and never to go c of it, could not be expofed to the it conveniencies of another. Confider ing the frailty of human affairs, coal dering the reftlefs and stirring fpirit this age, which changes every thing, a the generations change, can one concel a more foolish method than to brin up a child, as if he was never to lea his chamber, or to be continually fu rounded by his domeftics? If the u happy wretch but fets his foot to t ground, if he goes down one fing ftep, he is loft. It is not teachi him to fupport misfortunes, it is a cuftoming him to feel them. (To be continued.) 4 SERIES of LETTER LETTER VI. fome days; dreadful to those abo me, but happy to myself, as I was e tirely infenfible to the horrors of Continued in this dreadful ftate f The midwife brought us forth, the nu inftructed us, the teacher began us, and mafter taught us. t Letter from F. Scudamore to Lady Saville. 119 was greatly fhocked. "Well, Fanny, (faid he) you have ftill a friend: you shall live with me, and we will be happy together." That grief does not always kill is most certain, for I have furvived conflicts under which I thought I muft have funk. Though my mind was pained in the most agonizing manner, I recovered my health by degrees, and in a fhort time was able to bid adicu to London, I parted from my other felf, my frontion. Ophelia never left me, but to fee her brother fometimes at his houfe, and to confult with him the meafares they should take about rming my parents of my illness.O the day, when finding no alterafor the better, they had deterned to make known to them my mecholy ftory, a letter directed to me brought.--Ophelia opened it, tund it was written by an old fervant o had long lived in our family, and the pathetically related to me a fudden and mournful accident that had hap-dearest Ophelia, with the most heartxed to my dear mother, who, walk- felt forrow. Think, dear Madam, of g with my father, to all appearance the character of that lovely woman; perfect health, was feized with an think how, when my nearest and most poplexy, and fnatched from this world intimately connected friend, my hufMy father, fhe faid, was band, deserted me, how she still adis the depth of forrow, and the ear- hered to me, attended on the bed of actly entreated me to lofe no time in ficknefs, regardlefs of the pleafures batening to him. which in every other house awaited her. Think that I was parting from her, perhaps for ever, as the cruel ftigma under which my character lay, would not permit me to have any perfonal intercourfe with any of her family, and then you may form fome idea of the pangs I felt when I faw her drive from my door the evening before I fet out. 143 minute. My dearest friend wrote directly to this worthy woman. I was (fhe told her) confined with a dangerous illness, andr I my husband abfent on a tour with fae friends, so that it was impoffible I would at present attend my unfortu nate parent. The day after this, perceiving fome frall figns of my returning fenfes, fhe, by the advice of my phyfician, abruptly told me of my mother's death. It had the defired effect. I looked for me time earneftly at her, then, as it were, fuddenly awaking to a full fenfe af my mifery, I burst into a flood of tears, and bewailed myfelf in the most Lamentable terms. I determined to go to my father fo foon as I could regain Arength to bear the motion of a carriage. We arrived by eafy journeys at Springfield. It was above two years fince I had quitted it, and what a change had that short space produced! I was then the gay and blooming Fanny Courtenay, fraught with every earthly bleffing, the idol of my parents, the favourite of all my acquaintance: I was now the mourning, fpiritlefs Fanny Scudamore, deferted by my hufband, my reputation flandered, But that dear, that worthy friend, and had loft a mother I fondly loved. prevented my intentions, by arriving I had, however, ftrength of mind emy houfe fo foon as it was poffiblenough to conceal, though I could not after the receipt of Lady Ophelia's conquer my unhappiness. I affected etter. Our meeting was affecting to a chearfulnefs before my father, which the laft degree. The firft emotions I could not feel; I read to him, fung, ver, "Where is your husband, my and played to him. We declined, by child?" faid he." How grieved would choice, the vifits of fome of the neighpoor Harry be to fee thee thus !" bourhood, who would have honoured us with them. When I paid a vifit at Springfield before, with Mr. Scudamore, they had all waited on me," and paid me the greatest attention. Now This was too much-I wept a delage, and in broken accents, thus often interrupted, unfolded to my father the fad ftory of our feparation. He the the scene was changed. A rumour was gone abroad, that Mrs. Scudamore had been difcovered in an intrigue, in which her husband having detected her, had abfented himself from her. Who the object was they could not tell, but the fact was fo, and indeed fome did not fcruple to affirm it was my own footman; fo the more prudent part of the country would not think of affociating with a poor fallen woman, though, after the exemplary education fhe had received, they could not but wonder at her depravity. A good confcience, that greatest of bleffings, fupported me against all this calumny. The conftant correfpondence I kept with Lady Ophelia Hume was my greatest pleasure. I learnt by it, that after leaving London, they went to vifit Lord and Lady Melville at Bath; that at her brother's carneft requeft, her parents permitted her to fpend a longer time with him, at his country feat, from whence they went to pay a visit to Lady Belvidere's uncle, Mr. Spencer. I must now relate to you an event that happened in their family. Upon recollection I will enclofe the letter which conveyed the news to me, but must beg you will return it, as I have carefully preferved all these precious tokens of the friendship of that valuable woman. I find I have mislaid the key of my cabinet, and as the meffenger who is to bring you this waits, I will fend it you the first opportunity. Do not be angry at my thus trying your patience, or rather at my prefumption to fuppofe your patience can be tried at any thing that concerns F. SCUDAMORE. [To be continued.] This letter, which was omitted by fome inadvertence, but not on our fide, ought to have been inferted between page 564, 566, Vol. IX. and page 41, 43, Vol. X. But the thread of the narrative being now Spliced, we hope to continue the feries of letters without any other interruption. Enigmatical Lift of LIQUORS. 1. A Roman general, and half of a riot. 2. Two fifths of a metal, a monofyllable, and one third of a tree. 3. Four fevenths of a fifh, a vowel, and two thirds of a malt-liquor. 4. Half of a woman's Chriftian name, and a colour reversed. 5. Two thirds of an herb, and a numerical letter. 6. Three fifths of an animal, a liquid letter, half of a lesson, and two thirds of a metal. 7. Four fifths of the goddess of flowers, two thirds of a number, and two fifths of a tree. 8. Half of tinder reverfed, and a meat, changing a letter. 9. A principal actor in a puppetfhew. 10. Half of a flower, a ferpentine letter, and half of a foreign city. Ratcliff Crofs. MARIANNE C-R. |