inftigation of the grand Sauter; but I led L-m-t. About half a mile's distance there was an academy for 'was afterwards informed that it might be intended as a compliment they ufu- young gentlemen, at which place Mr. F-e was educated. The two fchools, ally pay to the chiefs of other nations, who happen to fall in with them, and to fave a little money, had but one that the circumstances in their conduct, dancing-mafter between them, who atwhich had appeared fo fufpicious to me, tended at the ladies academy twice ewere merely the effects of their vanity, very week. The young gentlemen aland defigned to imprefs into the minds ways went there to be taught, which of those who visited them, an elevated | made them and the young ladies acopinion of their valour, and prowefs. quainted together. Mr. F-e, efpe In the morning, before I continued cially, took a great liking to Mifs my route, feveral of their wives brought Cm, and often brought her fuch me a prefent of fome fugar, for whom things as he thought would be agree able to her: fhe, on her fide, liked -I found a few more ribands. him very well. Mr. F-e was about twelve years old, and Mifs C-—m a、 bout eleven. Their acquaintance was broke off by Mr. Fe's going to another fchool. At fourteen he was fent to business, and ferved his apprenticefhip with great applaufe. It was in London that he ferved his time: his friends lived in Weftmoreland: they were in pretty good circumftances, but not too good. The young lady's father and mother were dead, and fhe lived (after going from fchool) in town with an oid aunt, from whom he had fome expectations. The DANCE of the SACRIFICE is not fo denominated from their offering up, at the fame time, a facrifice to any good or evil fpirit, but is a dance to which the Nawdoweffieś give that title, from being used when any public fortunate circumftance befals them. Whilft I refided amongst them, a fine large deer accidentally ftrayed into the middle of their cucampment, which they foon deltroyed. As this happened juft at the new moon, they efteemed it a lucky omen, and having roafted it whole, every one of the camp partook of it. After their feaft, they all joined in a dance, which they term. ed, from its being of a religious na-, ture, a dance of the facrifice, To the EDITOR of the LADY's Ma SIR, GAZINE.. Mr. F being one night at the opera, faw his beloved Miss C--, but he was not quite certain whether it was her or no. However, the next night being with a friend at the playhouf, he chanced to fit in the box behind her: there was the aunt with her; and Mr. F-, being very polite, entered into converfation with them, without letting the young lady know who he was. At the conclufion of the play, he asked the old lady where the lived the readily gave him her direction, and that being what he wantIfhall (theed, he went home very well satisfied, and refolved to write to the young lady, and endeavour to renew their former acquaintance. She was now become very beautiful, and was courted by many young men of good circumftances, but from fome motive or other the had declined all their addreffes. The other characters which I I promifed to fend you fome letters. better to understand it) give your perfons mentioned therein, and then Your's refpectfully, CARDENIO. ISS C-m was brought up at a Mboarding-fhool feventy miles fhall have occafion to mention, are the distance from London, at a place cal-old aunt, whom I fhall call (for I do not Reflections on Death. I 183 terably fixed on you, and except it: meets with fome return, muft confume. and walte me away by the most lingering of difeafes, Love. But if my candour and fincerity can claim your attention, then I fhall be at the high-: eft fimmit of earthly happiness, and the most contented of men. If it is agreeable to you, I should think myfelf highly honoured by the favour of: a few lines from you; or if you would permit me to wait upon you at your own houfe, I fhould be the happieft man imaginable. In the mean time, Madam, I beg leave to fubferibe my,: felf Your humble and devoted Servant and admirer, (To be continued.) REFLECTIONS on the AWFULNESS of A RISTOTLE, that laborious and YOU will, no doubt, be surprised at my boldness in daring to write to a perfon, with whom I am no farther acquainted, than by the vicinity of the schools where we were feparately brought up, and the few opportunities we had of fpeaking to, and fe, ing one another in that fituation. But I hope and truft fincerely that my candour and openness will overbalance the freedom which I have unwillingly taken, I fay unwillingly, becaufe my mind will fcarcely permit me to trouble you with my nonfenfe, at the fame time that my heart forces me to open my mind to you; and might I-but that thought is too afpiring. Youth is always forward and bold, where it ex pects to meet with the fulfilling of its defires, especially if the thing wifhed accurate investigator of nature, for has been conftantly running in the that ftupendous great man, the most mind and heart. You, Madam, per- learned cf all the heathen philofophers, mit me to fay it, are, and always have whofe works will be ever had in ef-been, fince I first had the never-to-be-teem, declared, that " of all terrible equalled pleasure of feeing you, the on-things death is the moft terrible.". ly conftant with my youthful heart has When his infatiate genius had furveyed ever yet formed. All my other defires all things, examined the heavens, difare momentary, and of no long conti-clofed the most abftrufe things in nanuation; but beauty united with vir- ture, dived into all the wonders of tue and an heavenly temper, is a the world, and difcovered, with inthing of greater moment, and requires defatigable induftry, the almoft ina longer feries of reflection, and a yet ferutible fecrets appertaining to the agreater time to efface it from the mind.nimal economy; yet after all his exYour heavenly form and exalted worth tenfive ftudies and refearches, he could claim the admiration of every one.- never find any folid comfort or confoBeauty is perifhing, but virtue is lit-lation against the fears of death, but ing. The fun, moon, and ftars fhall confefles, in the most pathetic manner, fade away, but virtue fhall flourish in the dreadfuluefs of this ghaftly and immortal youth, and never die. Par-terrifying monarch. a don, Madam, this fmall digreflion; it Death is, indifputably, when feis a tribute due to your merit, and is rioufly confidered, à most dreadful and the overflowings of a tender heart.-awful affair. The very name of that Believe me, moft honoured Madam, king of terrors is fufficient to damp while I fay it, that my heart is unal- our spirits, and the thought of facing that wish! A veil is drawn over the scene, and nothing but experience, doleful experience, fufficient to difclofe the impenetrable fecret. But ah! no notices they give, Nor tell us where, or how they live; As if bound up by folemn fate St. Paul calls Death the laft enemy that fhall be destroyed; but that happy period will not commence till the end of all fublunary things, till the fi that baleful and infatiate monfter is enough to chill the blood, and draw a gloomy veil over all the pleasures and pageantry of the world. Death may be properly ftiled the bitter enemy of life; in every shape it is terrible. No wonder it strikes fuch a panic on the human heart. Nothing can be more awful than the feparation of foul and body! Bitter, inconceivably bitter and heart-affecting muft needs be the parting of thofe lovely companions! Sure-ly the utmost feverity of pain muft attend the feparating ftroke!-Can any reflect upon that important and alarming change, without emotions of dread? Can any contemplate that great tranfitions without fhuddering or ftartingnal confummation and conflagration of back at the awful fcene?-Where is this mundane fyltem, when there will the man that can face death, that grim be nothing left to glut his ravenous monarch, that grand enemy of mortals, maw, nothing mortal for the insatiate with courage undaunted? Or where is tyrant to prey upon. Before that imthe hero that dare meet the king of portant crifis, the victorious enemy is terrors with intrepidity? Whofe heart permitted to make his ravages among does not fail him in the profpect, when the fons of men!--Before that awful ftanding on the threshold of the invi-period, what devastation, what defofible world, and when eternity, bound-lation will he make among poor morlefs eternity, opens its ample fcene totals! Every individual, both high and their view? or whofe courage, faith,low, rich and poor, from the monarch and refolution is not ready to fink, when encountering the last formidable enemy? when going to páfs through the valley of the fhadow of death, through the dark and gloomy regions to an unknown and unalterable fate. that trails the robe of ftate, to the galley flave condemned to the mines, must alike bow to his imperial fceptre, and. tafte the venom of his fatal dart!Death is the most formidable enemy we have to encounter: his power is How tremendous and awful muft unconquerable; his fury is matchlefs that final transition, that folemn period and irrefiftible. Not one among all be, when the laft pangs diflodge the the fons of Adam has ever been known foul' from the abodes of corruption, to baffle this enemy, or to get the vic and it iffues from the tenement of clay tory over this baleful intruder. ---- It which it has fo long inhabited? Then, reigns with an arbitrary power over O the alarming change! how gladly the fons of men. It triumphs with an would we know in what manner it infufferable infolence over all the emwings its way into yonder invifible re- perors, the kings, and nations of the gions How it fleers its flight-what earth. The great Alexander, and unknown worlds are difcovered to its triumphing Cefar, who have made all view, when it passes through unbound- the world tremble before them, fubed space-when it is wafted quick as mitted to Death, and without the thought through unmeafurable tracts leaft refiftance fell proftrate under the of ether!-Ah! could we be inform- horfe and his rider. O thou balefuk ed how the fouls of our departed tyrant thou victorious monarch, who friends are affected at the furviving levels, with indifcriminate fury, the change! How affected at the remem-whole race of mankind, and shoots thy brauce and regard of things left here envenomed fhafts at every individual, below!-but, alas! how vain is the when will thy infatiate cruelty be fa The Faitblefs Guardian f 185 In confequence of a determination to fettle his worldly affairs, while he was in a condition to attend to them, while he was apprehenfive of being foon rendered incapable of executing his defigns, he dispatched a letter by exprefs to the most intimate of his tisfied? When, O when, devouring monster, wilt thou lay down thy murdering weapons, and quell thy rage? The most inhuman minds are at length fatiated with blood, but meagre death ever faith 'tis enough: his hand is ftill fretched out against the fons of men, and every moment he is fweep-friends, the man of whofe honour and ing them off from this earthly theatre. Though our friends be dear to us as a right eye, and lovely as the bloom of the morning, the cruel and infatiate monfter renders them obnoxious to our view, and inacceffib'e to the tender embraces of the laft lingering, faithful, unfhaken adherent. So frail is the body of man-well might the facred writer cry out, that "all flesh is grafs, and all the glory of man as the flower of the field."-Well might the poet exclaim, As foon as man has found The key of life, it opes the gate of death Nothing can be more tranfitory! While one generation is fpringing up, the former is perifhing and paffing away. The brave, the wealthy, the wife, the innocent the good, all are involved in the univerfal deftruc tion. JUVENIS. integrity he had the higheft opinion, with an earnest request to come to him, without delay, as he had fomething of much importance to communicate to him before he died. Mr. Naunton was, at the time he received this importunate letter from bis old friend, at the houfe of a near relation he had in the north of England: and having great reason to fuppofe from the contents of it, as he was not a perfon apt to be alarmed at trifles of any kind, that his diffolution was approaching, he made immediate preparations for his journey to Effex, in which county, his paternal one, he had, for fome years, lived in a retired manner, the ill ftate of his health not permitting him to endure the fatigue or to relish the bustle of a public life. As foon as Mr. Melbourn heard of his friend's arrival, he expreffed particular fatisfa&tion, received him with unufual cordiality, and in a few minutes entered upon the bufinefs which he had fo deeply at heart. My dear THE FAITHLESS GUARDIAN. friend," faid he, leaning forward A MORAL TALE. fure of which he bore with the forti- VOL. X. his eafy chair, refting one of his hands upon the table which ftood by him, and the other upon a crutch-ftick which had affifted him in walking towards the Park, "I was never fo glad to fee you."-After having thanked him for the expedition he had made from his uncle's, he thus proceeded." Your appearance here is at this time fingu larly agreeable to me.-I am not, you well know of a timorous difpolition : I can fee the approaches of death without fhrinking at them, but I cannot diveft myfelf of all concerns about this world in fuch a manner as not to be defirous of having my fon under the protection of a man who will not only take the greatest care of his fortune, during his fhort minority, but do eveB b ry power which he had vefted in him during his minority. : George Melbourn received the news of his father's death with a forrow which was fincere his filial duty, and his filial affection had ever been from his earlieft days, happily united. Nor was he diffatisfied with the choice he ry thing he can think of to improve what he is to inherit on his coming to age. Now as I firmly believe you to be this man, I have apppointed you his guardian with full power to make him what allowance you please, till he has right to the full poffeffion of his inheritance." Mr. Melbourn having thus unbo-had made of a guardian for him, as he fomed himself with regard to his fon, acquainted his friend with the other parts of his will. had always been treated by Mr. Naunton in a way extremely pleafing to him; he was, however, chagrined to find that he must wait three years, being but eighteen, before he could take poffeffion of his patrimony. This chagrin was occafioned by an amorous In answer to this confidential fpeech, Mr. Naunton declared, in the ftrongeft, and most affectionate terms, that he would be more than a guardian, a parent to his fon, whom he looked up-connection. He had contracted an inon as a young gentleman of promifing talents, and found principles, and follow all his injunctions with the utmost punctuality. Mr. Melbourn now feeling his parental fenfations too painful to be kept within his own breait, gave a loose to them, not without being forced to make use of his handkerchief more than once." Excufe me, my dear friend, for this weaknefs,"-faid he, after having wiped the last tears which fell from his eyes. timacy with a young lady at Geneva of the tendereft nature, and felt all the impatience of the mott romantic lover, when her mother, upon his offering to marry her, on his father's decease, affured him that she would not give her confent till he was in a fituation to make a proper fettlement on her child. The name of this cautious lady was Dubois--She was an Englishwoman by birth, but having married a native of Geneva, in a very good commercial way, and upon his expreffing a strong "You need not make any apology defire to vifit the place of his nativity, for your tears," anfwered Mr. Naun-in a decline, readily accompanied him ton, interrupting him." They do you a great deal of credit: the abfence of your fon at this juncture, must ne ceffarily be felt severely by you; but 'as you are not," continued he with a confoling fmile, "going to leave us Ifabella Dubois, on the arrival of yet, 1 fhould imagine that if you in- young Melbourn, was marriageable: formed him, in a letter of your wifh fhe was alfo an agreeable, fenfible acto fee him, you may enjoy that fatis-complished girl. With bir George "faction in a few weeks." to the continent. At Geneva, fhe buried him with his ancestors, and was afterwards induced, from the civilities paid to her by his relations, to spend the remainder of her days with them. commenced an acquaintance, by ftudyre-ing under the fame preceptor with a coufin of hers on the father's fide; that acquaintance gradually rofe into an intimacy, and that intimacy became more endearing to them both by their mutual prepoffeflions. "A few weeks my friend," plied Mr. Melbourn fhaking his head. A few days will in all human probability, put a period to my existence here. I must not think of weeks in this world." This laft fpeech was prophetical, he died before the end of the third day from the delivery of it. Mr. Naunton wrote immediately to Geneva to acquaint young Melbourn with his father's death, and with the George had as good an opinion of Mr. Naunton as of any man he knew, when he received the letter of advice above mentioned: but Mrs. Dubois foon afterwards infused fufpicions into his mind concerning him." I wish there |