A City Night-Piece in Winter: 151 fore, my dear Mifs Partlet, fo far dife fer from your correfpondent, as to advife the women to be more generous, in order to make the men more just : but then the former fhould still be cautious, and not appear ready to fay yer to the firft man who afks them the question. Let them not enter into any engagement with any man who is not generally well fpoken of for his honefty, fenfibility, and good humour. If fhe who marries fuch a man is pos feffed of the fame excellent qualifications, the marriage-ftate, take my word for it, would be a heaven upon earth. There would then be no occafion for a fingle female to fubfcribe herfelf an ill-natured Spirfter, a fignature totally oppofite to that which I myfelf adopt, when I tell my dear Pen that I am not only her fincere friend, but the Happieft of married Women." nion, (to which I ever pay great attention) as to endeavour to draw you out of the easy, indolent ftate you have long enjoyed, and to expofe you to the capricious humours of a tyrannical lord and mafter, who, as your correfpondent hints, may expect more from a woman who has neither youth nor beauty, than she has to beltow: but then, for love's fake, do not let those who are both young and handfome take fancies into their heads, and flight a good offer, they know not why. An honeft man, the fpinfter fays, will always offer to make a fettlement: true, he will fo; but will a deferving woman defire one from him, except he is in fo independent a fituation, that his intereft cannot be injured by fuch a proceeding; and certainly, a woman who brings but little to a man in trade, or bufinefs of any kind, cannot expect a large dower, to the prejudice of the man fhe marries. A worthy man, who loves and efteems his wife, will be as careful not to hurt her intereft, as he is not to do any thing detrimental to his own; he will endeavour, by conducting his affairs with economy, to fecure a proper provifion for her, in cafe of his dying before her: this is all which a reasonable wife ought to defire; and I firmly believe it is owing to the exorbitant expectations of moft women, and to their eagerness to tie men down to make large fettle-A ments, which render fo many marriages unhappy. What opinion can a man form of a woman's affection for him, when he fees the is ftriving to make the best bargain fhe can? Love, in fhort, is quite out of the question; be takes her as he would a bale of goods: he takes him for the highest price the can get. They, therefore, enter upon a union, which ought to be an alliance of hearts, rather than hands, with the moft fovereign contempt for each other's principles at leaft and, indeed, when a woman flands very hard with a man, the cannot expect, rationally, abundance of love to be thrown into the hymeneal fcale, as the will have had her pennyworth for her penny. Let me, there-geant, and now, like a froward child, : There is much truth in the above epiftle, but there is an old adage in our language, which we must not lofe fight of Truth is not to be spoken ar all times." (To be continued.) M. G. CITY NIGHT-PIECE in WINTER. HE clock has ftruck two; the Texpiring taper rifes and links in the focket, the watchman forgets the hour of flumber, the laborious and the happy are at reft, and nothing now wakes but guilt, revelry, and defpair. The drunkard once more fill the deftroying bowl, the robber walks his midnight round, and the fuicide lifts his guilty arm against his own facred perfon. Let me no longer wafle the night over the page of antiquity, or the fallies of cotemporary genius, but purfue the folitary walk, where vanity, ever changing, but a few hours paft walked before me, where he kept up the pa feems feems hufhed with her own importunities. What a gloom hangs all around!The dying lamp feebly emits a yellow gleam, no found is heard but of the chiming clock, or the diftant watchdog. All the bustle of human pride is forgotten, and this hour may well difplay the emptinefs of human vanity. There may come a time when this temporary folitude may be made continual, and the city itself, like its inhabitants, fade away, and leave a defart in its room. What cities, as great as this, have once triumphed in existence, and with Thort fighted prefumption, promised themfelves immortality. Pofterity can hardly trace the fituation of fome; the forrowful traveller wanders over the awful ruins of others, and as he beholds, he learns wifdom, and feels the tranfience of every fublunary poffeffion. Here ftood their citadel, but now grown over with weeds; there their fenate-house, but now the haunt of every noxious reptile: temples and theatres flood here, now only an undif tinguished heap of ruin. They are fallen, for avarice and luxury firft made them feeble. The rewards of State were conferred on amufing, and not on useful members of fociety. Thus true virtue languifhed. Their riches and opulence invited the plunderer, who, though once repulfed, returned again, and at laft fwept the defendants into undiftinguished deftruction. How few appear in these freets, which but fome few hours ago were crowded! and thofe who appear, no longer now wear their daily mask, nor attempt to hide their lewdnefs or their mifery. But who are those who make the ftreets their couch, and find a short repofe from wretchednefs at the doors of the opulent ?--These are frangers, wanderers, and orphans, whofe circumstances are too humble to expect redress, and their diftreffes too great even for pity. Some are with out the covering of rags, and others e maciated with disease; the world feems to have difclaimed them; fociety turns its back upon their diftrefs, and has given them up to nakednefs and hunger. Thefe poor fhivering females have once feen happier days, and been flattered into beauty. They have been prostituted to the gay luxurious villain, and are now turned out to meet the feverity of winter in the streets.— Perhaps, now lying at the door of their betrayers, they fue to wretches whofe hearts are infenfible to calamity, or debauchees who may curfe, but will not relieve them. Why, why was I born a man, and yet fee the fufferings of wretches I cannot relieve !-Poor houseless creatures the world will give you reproaches, but will not give you relief. The flightest misfortunes, the moft imaginary uneafineffes of the rich, are aggravated with all the power of eloquence, and engage our attention; while you weep unheeded, perfecuted by every fubordinate species of tyranny, and finding enmity in every heart. Why was this heart of mine formed with fo much fenfibility? or why was not my fortune adapted to its impulfe? Tendernefs, without a capacity of relieving, only makes the heart that feels it more wretched than the object which fues for affiftance. But let me turn from a scene of fuch diftiefs, to the fanctified hypocrite, who has been talking of virtue till the time of bed, and now fteals out to give a loofe to his vices, under the protection of midnight; vices more atrocious, because he attempts to conceal them. See how he fneaks down the dark alley, and, with hastening fteps, fears an acquaintance in every face. He has paffed the whole day in company he hates, and now goes to prolong the night among company that as heartily hate him. May his vices be detected; may the morning rife upon his fhame: yet I wish to no purpofe villainy, when detected, never gives up, but boldly adds impudence to impotture. The The true Point of Honcur. 153 The TRUE POINT of HONOUR. | which draw it with the greatest vio In a word, though I should fucceed in breaking the chains which attach me to her rival, I can offer her only a perjured heart. What confi Thought, at first, that nothing could increase the diftrefs of my fitnation; but I foon found I was mistaken. Eliza foon filled up the measure of my grief. Notwithstanding all the efforts I made to conceal from her my intelligence with her rival, it could not escape her. Shall I confefs it? Her penetration feemed to be that of a lover; and far from being humiliated by the idea of having infpired this angelic girl with a fentiment, which it was not in my power to return, I enjoyed an inexpreffible pleasure in thinking that I had pleafed her. My depravation made me tremble: I reproached myself for this new crime. How great was my confufion, my fhame, and remorfe, when her letter changed my doubts into certainty? However cautious her expreffions were, they ftill befpoke a delicate lover, who forgetting herself, facrificed every thing, even her very affection, to the happiness of the beloved object.How contrary was the difpofition of Mifs D'Erlac! She fhould have forefeen the numberlefs evils which muft follow the love fhe endeavoured to infpire me with, and fhe had preferred her own gratification to my happinefs. Pardon me, dear miftrefs, I forget myfelf; I am guilty of an outrage against you; but my heart avenges you, and remains more faithful to you than ever. A miferable captive, I drag with groans the most heavy chains, I bathe them with my tears, and I would prefer death to the neceflity of breaking them. This unhappy paffion is become neceffary to my existence, and my heart, diffracted by two objects, VOL. X. a man who has violated his firft vows? What do I fay? Have I not violated them already?-Can I love her at a time when I repeat every night my proteftations of never being her's, of defpifing paternal authority, which has impofed it on me as a law, and of trampling upon the facred duties of gratitude towards the Baron ?-Ah! dear Sir, you have brought up a monfter, deftined to make every one unhappy who has had the misfortune to be attached to him! I am fhocked at myfelf, how can I help fhocking others? Amidst thefe cruel agitations, a ray of hope breaks in upon me. Mifa D'Erlac has just now affured me that you are not infenfible to the charms of Eliza, that fhe returns your tendreffe, and that you only wait for the arrival of her father to ask him to give you her hand. This difcovery has calmed the tempeft in my bofom: I felt that I could not be entirely unhappy, as I should have a fhare of the happiness of two perfons fo dear to me. Alas! I was at that time a ftranger to the verfatility of my heart. I had the boldnefs to reproach Eliza for the confent the feemed difpofed to give to this union. All the furies of jealousy took poffeffion of my foul. I could neither be her's, nor could I bear to fee her another's. Let me repeat it, Sir, what a monfter have you brought into the world? I fear, as an addition to all my woes, the most tremendous of all others, your malediction and hate: I X deferve them, but will not furvive them. It is the fear of bringing them down upon me that has clofed my mouth to this inftant, and I fhould have had the courage to inform you of my garements, if Mifs D'Erlac had not intimated to me that you hád difcovered them. Dear Sir, have pity upon your unhappy fon; give him permiffion to go and hide his shame in the farthest parts of the world. Heaven has preferved me till this day from the extremities of blindnefs and infatuation: notwithstanding the afcendency which Mifs D'Erlac has over me, fhe has not been able to make me promise an engagement which has not your confent; and how could I hope for fuch a proof of your indulgence?-Alas! if you could penetrate to the bottom of my heart; you would yield to my wifhes by way of vengeance. I cannot be happy with Mils D'Erlac; her character would form a punishment, which would be renewed every hour of my life; but I think mfelf engaged by honour and gratitude to be her's, even though I should ceafe to love her, or at least to marry no one elfe. [ledgment with gratitude, though it may be rather too late, and if I should fuffer any pains from fo long a delay, they should be placed to the account of those which you experience, and which I could have alleviated. I begin with affuring you, that with refpect to the advice which I am going to give you, I fhall utterly lofe fight of the rights which nature has given me with regard to you. The question is about an engagement which muft continue as long as you live, on which your happiness depends in this life, and, perhaps in the other; but, in a word, you are to make the engagement, not I; the choice, therefore, depends upon you. I folemnly engage that I will never require you to violate the promises that I have made for you, they were conditional, and on fuppofition that you would voluntarily ratify them. With refpect to those which you have made without my knowledge, your friend defires that you would take time to confider their force and their confequences; your father likewise enjoins it; it is a duty which he cannot difpenfe with without being criminal; this is the only act of authority which you have to fear from him. I think that the following reflections ought to be made by you. I must once more conjure you to grant me one favour. I find I have not courage enough to bear the reproaches you have a right to make me First, you ought to confider calmin perfon; condefcend to anfwer mely what fentiments you owe to Miss in writing, and let me know that tho' D'Erlac, in confequence of her conyou have loft a fon, I have not loft a father. LETTER XXXVIII. In Anfwer from M. NORTHON, Sen. to his Son. duct. Secondly, what thofe are which fhe has really infpired you with, and whether they are invincible. Thirdly, what is the force of the engagements which you have made with her, and how far they may oblige in the light of God or men. YES, my dear Northon, you have hot loft a father, and you will certain- You ought likewife to examine ly restore him a fon. Why did you whether thefe engagements are com not open your heart to me fooner?-patible with other duties; for even How much trouble might I have fpared an oath which fhould oblige you to you? Was it poffible that you fhould violate any duty to the Deity is not forget that you always found me a obligatory; it cannot be pronounced compaffionate friend, not a rigid tyrant? without a crime; to execute it, would An extremity of delicacy has com- be a greater crime than to violate it. pelled me to connive at your wander- In a word, you ought to confider ings; I wanted to make this open a- what you owe to yourself. A perfon vowal to you. I receive your acknow-who has done us, or intended to do us a fa The true Point of Honour. 155 a favour, deferves our acknowledgment. On the other hand, religion alone may compel us to pardon thofe who have done ill to us. Is it in the clafs of your benefactors or your enemies that you ought to range Mifs D'Erlac? She has boafted of her fortune, which she should be glad to fhare with you; but if fortune were a real good, do you not think that she would deprive you of it? Her fortune is nothing in comparison with that of her coufin. Heaven knows that I would not perfuade you to ftrike the balance, with refpect to fortune, in an engage. ment in which religion and honour alone ought to turn the scale; I only mean to convince you that you are under no obligation to Mifs D'Erlac in that point. She would have you to exchange the greater for the lefs; Is my fon capable of making me if you make this change, all the obli- fuch a reply? Can he confent to unite gation is on her fide, for, undoubted-himfelf with a girl, who confults noly, it is you who make the jacrific. fend. You have feen yourself, that the ought to have foreseen the torments to which fhe was about to expose you : infer from thence that he does not really love you, that your happiness has nothing to do with her defire of forming an alliance with you; that the has no objection in the leaft that you fhould be unhappy as long as you live, providing her paffion be gratified. She loved you first; that thought has fet you on fire. She has given you the greatest proofs of her tendre, by demeaning herfelf fo much as to be guilty of treachery, falfhood, the forgetting of biesieunce, and her own reputation. Certainly thefe are great facrifices! You ought to confider whether fhe has not made them for you, and whether the does require that you fhould make her far greater. When I examine the conduct of this girl, I fee plainly that she is felf-intereted. She thought that you was a more proper object for her to play upon than any other, and from thence the has fpared no pains to feduce you, without the leaft regard for your intereft. She was not ignorant that you could not reciprocate her tendre, without being ungrateful to the moft generous of all friends, without wounding the heart of a mofl tender father; confequently, she has endeavoured to make you miferable, by making you an accomplice in her iniquity: but if the is one who believes the might be happy in violating her duty, the must be without principle, who would plunge you with herself into abyffes without "But," you will reply," does any perfon reflect when he is in love?Does a girl of her age take any pleafure in debate? She follows the emotions of her heart; fhe is blinded by her paffions. She finds that fhe cannot be happy without me. She flatters herfelf that I cannot be happy without her. She unites both our interefts." thing but her paflion? who has yielded without refittance, who fuffered herself to be poffeffed fo much, as to be incapable of reflexion?-This paffion, which was not produced by ef teem, as it does not, according to your ideas, act in a blind manner, cannot this paffion, I fay, revive in favour of a new object? Will it refpect the rights of a husband more than thofe of a parent? You are not the firft favourite of Mifs D'Erlac; do you think you will be the latt? Who can fecure you againft the inconftancy of a frail heart, which revolts against itself? I have proved that Mifs D'Erlac has done nothing that can merit either your gratitude or your love; I have done more, I have shown you that she has facrificed your fortune, your character, your duty, to the mere defire of gratifying her wifhes. I repeat the queftion I have ftarted already. Are you to clafs her among your benefactors or your enemies? If your delicate heart be fo fentible to kindneffes as to fuffer itfelf to be feduced by thofe which are only fo in appearance, appro ciare, if you can, what you are indebted to Eliza. She prefents me with a model of true love. She has not attended a |