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A City Night-Piece in Winter:

151 rion, (to which I ever pay great at fore, my dear Miss Partlet, so far difs tention) as to endeavour to draw


fer from your correspondent, as to adout of the easy, indolent state you have vise the women to be more generous, in long enjoyed, and to expose you to the order to make the men more juff: bur capricious humours of a tyrannical lord then the former should still be cauand master, who, as your correspond. tious, and not appear ready to say yes ent hints, may expect more from a wo to the first man who asks them the man who has neither youth nor beau question. Let them not enter into ty, than the has to beltow : but then,

any engagement with any man who is for love's sake, do not let those who not generally well fpoken of for his are both young and handsome take honesty, fenfibility, and good humour. fancies into their heads, and light a If she who marries such a man is pos. good offer, they know not why. An fefied of the fame excellent qualiticahonelt man, the spinster says, will al- tions, the marriage-itate, take my ways offer to make a fettlement: true, word for it, would be a heaven upon he will so; but will a deserving woman earth. There would then be no occadefire one from him, except he is in so lion for a lingle female to subscribe independent a fituation, that his inter herself an ill-natured Spirfter, a fignaeit cannot be injured by such a pro ture totally opposite to that which I, ceeding ; and certainly, a woman who myself adopt, when I tell my dear brings but little to a man in trade, or Pen that I am not only her uncere business of any kind, cannot expect a friend, but the large dower, to the prejudice of the man fhe marries. A worthy man,

Happiest of married Women." who loves and esteems his wife, will be as careful not to hurt her intereft, as he is not to do any thing detrimental

There is much truth in the above. to bis own.; he will endeavour, by epistle, but there is an old adage in our conducting his affairs with economy,

language, which we must not lose light to fecure a proper provision for her, in

of Truth is not to be spoken at

all times.” case of his dying before her: this is all which a reasonable wife ought to

M. G. defire ; and I firmly believe it is ow

(To be continued.) ing to the exorbitant expectations of moft women, and to their eagerness to tie men down to make large settle A City Night-Piece in Winter. ments, which render so many marriages unhappy. What opinion can a

HE clock has ftruck two ; the man form of a woman's affection for expiring taper rises and links in him, when he sees the is striving to the socket, the watchman forgets the make the best bargain she can ? Love, hour of Number, the laborious and the in short, quite out of the queition ; happy are at rest, and nothing now be takes him as he would a bale of wakes but guilt, revelry, and despair. goods : phe takes him for the highest The drunkard once more fille the deprice she can get. They, therefore, stroying bowl, the robber walks his enter upon a union, which ought to midnight round, and the fuicide lifts be an alliance of hearts, rather than his guilty arm against his own sacred hands, with the moft sovereign con person, tempt for each other's principles at Let me no longer waste the night leaft: and, indeed, when a woman

page of antiquity, or the falftands very

hard with a man, she can lies of cotemporary genius, but pursue not expect, rationally, abundance of the solitary walk, where vanity, ever love to be thrown into the hymeneal changing, but a few hours past walked scale, as she will have had, her penny.

before me, where she kept up the pa. worth for her penny, Let me, there. l.geant, and now, like a froward child,


over the

seems hushed with her own importuni. | out the codering of rags, and others et ties.

maciated with disease; the world seems What a gloom hangs all around to have disclaimed them ; society turns The dying lamp feebly emits a yellow its back upon their distress, and has gleam, no sound is heard but of the given them up to nakedness and hunchiming clock, or the distant watch-ger. These poor shivering females dog. All the bustle of human pride have once seen happier days, and been is forgotten, and this hour may well frattered into beauty. They have been display the emptiness of human vanity. prostituted to the gay luxurious vilThere may come a time when this | lain, and are now turned out to meet temporary solitude may be made con the severity of winter in the streets. tinual, and the city itself, like its in- Perhaps, now lying at the door of their habitants, fade away, and leave a de- betrayers, they fue to wretches whose fart in its room.

hearts are infenfible to calamity, or What cities, as great as this, have debauchees who may curie, but will once triumphed in existence, and with not relieve them. Thort sighted presumption, promised Why, why was I born a man, and them felves immortality. Pofterity can yet see the sufferings of wretches I hardly trace the situation of some ; cannot relieve !- Poor houseless crea. the sorrowful traveller wanders over tures ! the world will give you rcthe awful ruins of others, and as he proaches, but will not give you rebeholds, he learns wisdom, and feels lief. The flightest misfortunes, the the tranfience of every sublunary pof- moft imaginary uneasinesses of the rich, feffion.

are aggravated with all the power of Here stood their citadel, but now eloquence, and engage our attention ; grown over with weeds ; there their while you weep unheeded, persecuted senate-house, but now the haunt of e. by every subordinate species of tyranvery noxious reptile: temples and theny, and finding enmity in every heart. atres stood here, now only an undis Why was this hcart of mine formed tinguished heap of ruin. They are with fo much sensibility ? or why was fallen, for avarice and luxury firit not my fortune adapted to its impulse? made them feeble. The rewards of Tenderness, without a capacity of rekate were conferred on amusing, and lieving, only makes the heart that feels not on useful members of society:-) it more wretched than the object which Thus true virtue languished. Their fues for affiftance. riches and opulence invited the plun But let me turn from a scene of derer, who, though once repulsed, re such distress, to the sanctified hypoturned again, and at last swept the de. crite, who has been talking of virtue fendants into undiftinguished deftruc-till the time of bed, and now fteals tion.

out to give a loose to his vices, under How few appear in these streets, the protection of midnight; viges more which but some few hours ago were atrocious, because he attempts to con- . crowded ! and those who appear, no ceal them. See how he fneaks down longer now wear their daily mask, nor the dark alley, and, with haftening attempt to hide their lewdness or their steps, fears an acquaintance in every misery.

face. He has passed the whole day But who are those who make the in company he hates, and now goes to ftreets their couch, and find a short prolong the night among company that repose from wretchedness at the as heartily hate him. May his vices doors of the opulent ? --These are be detected ; may the morning rise ftrangers, wanderers, and orphans, upon his dhame : yet I wish to no purwhole circumstances are too humble to pose : villainy, when detected, never expect redress, and their distresses too gives up, but boldly adds impudence great even for pity. Some are with to imposture.

The true Point of Honour.

153 The TRUE POINT of HONOUR. | which draw it with the greatest vion A MORAL History.

lence two contrary ways, has no other

prospec: but a series of cndless misforIn a Series of Letters. tune, which scale soever should pre

ponderate. Translated from the French.)

Yes, dear Sir, I am a victim deBy a Lady.

voted to a kind of torture unknown be. (Continued from Page 83.)

fore : I must appear as a monster in

the eyes of Eliza : I am persuaded LET TER XXXVII. that the loves me : I defy her to ef

neem me. From M. NORTHON, Jun. 10 bis FA

In a word, though I Mould

succeed in breaking the chains which THEZ, in Continuatior.

attach me to her rival, I can offer her Thought, at first, that nothing only a perjured heart. What confi

could increase the distress of my dence could me place in the fidelity of Staation ; but I soon found I was a man who has violated his firit vows? mistaken. Eliza soon filled up the What do I say? Have I not violated measure of my grief. Notwithstand them already?-_Can I love her at a ing all the efforts I made to conceal time when I repeat every night my fron her my intelligence with her rio protestations of never being her's, of val, it could not escape her. Shall I despising paternal authority, which has confess it? Her penetration seemed to imposed it on me as a law, and of be that of a lover; and far from being trampling upon the sacred duties of humiliated by the idea of having in- gratitude towards the Baron ?-Ah! {pired this angelic girl with a fenti- dear Sir, you have brought up a mona ment, which it was not in my power fter, destined to make every one unto return, I enjoyed an inexpressible happy who has had the misfortune to pleasure in thinking that I had pleased be attached to him ! I am shocked at her. My depravation made me trem. myself, how can I help shocking oble: I reproached myself for this new thers ? crime. How great was my confusion, Amidst these cruel agitations, a ray my shame, and remorse, when her let of hope breaks in upon me.

Miss ter changed my doubts into certain. D'Erlac has just now afsured me that ty? However cautions her expressions you are not infensible to the charms of were, they till bespoke a delicate lo- | Eliza, that she returns your rendrelle, ver, who forgetting herself, facrificed and that you only wait for the arrival every thing, even her very affection, to of her father to ask him to give you the happiness of the beloved object. her band. This discovery has calmed Hox contrary was the disposition of the tempest in my bofom : I felt that Miss D’Erlac! She should have fore. I could not be entirely unhappy, as I lern the numberless evils which must should have a share of the happiness of follow the love the endeavoured to in two persons so dear to me. Alas! I (pire me with, and she had preferred was at that time a stranger to the verher own gratification to my happiness. fatility of my heart. I had the boldPardon me, dear mistress, I forget myness to reproach Eliza for the consent felf; I am guilty of an outrage againtt the seemed disposed to give to this you ; but my heart avenges you, and union. All the furies of jealousy took remains more faithful to you than e pofleffion of iny soul. I could neither ver. A miserable captive, I drag with be her's, nor could I bear to see her groans the moit heavy chains, I bathe another's. Let me repeat it, Sir, ibern with my tears, and I would pre what a monfter have you brought into fer death to the neceflity of breaking the world? them. This unhappy paffion is be I fear, as an addition to all my come necessary to my existence, and woes, the most tremendous of all omy heart, dittracted by two objects, thers, your malediction and hate : I Vol. X.




deserve them, but will not survive | ledgment with gratitude, though it them. It is the fear of bringing them may be rather too late, and if I should down upon me that has closed my fuffer arzy pains from so long a delay, mouth to this instant, and I should they should be placed to the account have had the courage to inform you of those which you experience, and of my igarements, if Miss D’Erlac had which I could have alleviated. irot intimated to me that you had dis I begin with assuring you, that with covered them.

respect to the advice which I am going Dear Sir, have pity upon your un to give you, I shall utterly lose fight happy fon ; give him permision to go of the rights which nature has given and hide his shame in the farthest me with regard to you. The question parts of the world. Heaven has pre- is about an engagement which must served me till this day from the extre- continue as long as you live, on which mities of blindness and infatuation : your happiness -depends in this life, notwithstanding the ascendency which and, perhaps in the other ; but, in a Miss D’Erlac has over me, she has not word, you are to make the engagebeen able to make me promise an en ment, not I; the choice, therefore, gagement which has not your consent; depends upon you. I folemnly engage and how could I hope for such a proof that I will never require you to violate of your indulgence ?--Alas! if you the promises that I have made for you, could penetrate to the bottom of my they were conditional, and on suppoheart; you would yield to my wifhes fition that you would voluntarily ratiby way of vengeance. I cannot be fy them. With respect to those which happy with Mils D'Erlac; her cha you have made without my knowledge, racter would form a punishment, which your friend desires that you would take kould be renewed every hour of time to consider their force and their life ; but I think mself engaged by ho consequences ; your father likewise ennow and gratitude to be her's, even joins it; it is a duty which he cannot though I should cease to love her, or dispense with without being criminal ; at least to marry no one else.

this is the only act of authority which I must once more conjure you to you

have to fear from him. I think grant me one favour. I find I have

I find I have that the following reflections ought to not courage cnough to bear the re

be made by you. proaches you have a right to make me First, you ought to consider calmin person i condescend to answer me ly wlrat sentiments you owe to Miss in writing, and let me know that tho' D’Erlac, in confequence of her conyou have lost a son, I have not loft a duet. father.

Secondly, what those are which she

has really inspired you with, and wheL E T T E R XXXVII). ther they are invincible.

Thirdly, what is the force of the enIn Answer from M. NORTHON, Sen. 10 his Son.

gagements which you have made with

lier, and how far they may oblige in YES, my dear Northon, you have the Giglt of God or men. dot loft a faiher, and


will certain You ought likewise to examine ly restore him a son. Why did you whether these engagements are comnot open your heart to me tuoner patible with other duties ; for even How much trouble night I have spared an oath which should oblige you to you ? Was it possible that you should violate any duty to the Deity is not forget that you always fonnd me a obligatory'; it cannot be pronounced compasionale 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. petled me to connive at your wander In a word, you ought to consider ings; I wanted to make this open a what you owe to yourself. A person rowal to you. I receive your, acknow who has done us, or intended to do us

a fa.

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The true Point of Honour.

155 a favour, deserves our acknowledg. I end. You have seen yourself, that the ment. On the other hand, religion ought to have foreseen the torments to alone may compel us to pardon those which she was about to expose you : who have done ill to us. 'Is it in the infer from thence that he does not class of your benefactors or your ene- really love you, that your happiness mies that you ought to range Miss has nothing to do with her dofire of D’Erlac? She has boasted of her for- forming an alliance with


that she tune, which she should be glad to share has no objection in the least that you with you ; but if fortune were a real | should be unhappy as long as you live, good, do you not think that she would providing her paflion be gratified. deprive you of it? Her fortune is no “ But,” you will reply, any thing in comparison with that of her person reflect when he is in love ? coufin. Heaven knows that I would Does a girl of her age take any pleanot persuade you to frike the balance, fure in debate ? She follows the emowith respect to fortune, in an engage. tions of her heart; the is blinded by ment in which religion and honour a her passions. She finds that she canlone ought to turn the scale; I only not be happy without me. She flatmean to convince you that you are ters herself that I cannot be happy under no obligation to Miss D’Erlac without her. She unites both our inin that point. She would have you terefts, to exchange the greater for the less ; Is my fon capable of making me if you make this change, all the obli- such a reply? Can he consent to unite gation is on her fide, for, undoubted himself with a girl, who consults no. ly, it is you who make the jacrifici. thing but her paflion ? who has yield

She loved you firit ; that thoughted without refittance, who suffered has set you on fire. She has given herself to be poflefled so much, as to you the greatell proofs of her tendreft, be incapable of reflexion ?- This pafby demeaning herself so much as to be fion, which was not produced by elguilty of treachery, falhood, the for- teem, as it does not, according to your getting of biesieunce', and her own repu- ideas, act in a blind manner, cannot tation. Certainly these are great fa- this passion, I say, revive in favour of a erifices! You ought to consider whe new object? Will it respect the rights ther she has not made them for you, of a husband more than those of a paand whether she does require that you rent? You are not the first favourite of thould make her far greater.

Miss D'Erlac ; do you think you will When I examine the conduct of this be the last? Who can secure you againft girl, I fee plainly that she is felf-inte - the inconitancy of a frail heart, which efted. She thought that you was a revolts against itself ? more proper object for her to play up I have proved that Miss D'Erlac on than any other, and from thence has done nothing triat can merit cither the has spared no pains to seduce you, your gratitude or your love; I have without thelcast regard for jourinteieft. done more, I have thown you that the She was not ignorant that you could has facrificed

your fortune,


chanot reciprocate her tendrel , without racter, your duty, to the nere desire being ungrateful to the most generous of gratifying her wishes. I repeat the of all friends, without wounding the question I have started already. Are heart of a most tender father ; conse- you to class her among your benefacquently, she has endeavoured to make tors or your enemies ? If your deliyou miferable, by making you an ac cate heart be so fenfible to kindnesles complice in her iniquity : but if the as to suffer itself to be seduced by those is one who believes she might be hap- which are only so in appearance, appria py in violating her duty, The must be ciate, if you can, what you are indebted without principle, who would plunge to Eliza. She presents me with a model you with herself into abysses without of true love. She has not attended a

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