\ ««f HIBRARY Of o Ji \ o OF CiUfC- / ^ ff^ T. F \ ■i THE ifBftARV O^ e I ? K^aS— / \ SI iittb^ I? A SEQUEL TO THE ANTIBOTE TO THE MISERIES OF HUMAN LIFE, CONTAINING A FURTHER ACCOUNT OF MRS. PLACID AND HER DAUGflTER RACHEL. ■* i AUTHOR OF THE ANTIDOTE. LONDON: PnjXTi.D FOR ■\VILLIx\MS AND SMITir, STATIC NERS'-COUKT. 1809. > LIBRARY "'"'^ AtMVERSn Y OF CALIFORNTJC SAiNTA BARBARA CONTENTS ' Fags Chap. I. — Introduction. Squire Bustle's arrival at home, with an account of his wife. They visit Mis. Placid. Their reception, and the widow's opinion of Sunday engagements. A short dialogue between Mrs. Placid and her friend, in which a precept con- tained in Scripture is considered. Mrs. Placid avows her motive in going to Mr. Bustle's house. Her ar- rival there, with an account of the squire's method of entertaining his compajiy - ------- 1 Chap. II. — A tete-Mete between Mrs. Placid and Mr. Bustle. The behaviour of the latter at his dining table ; and a conversation after dinner. Mrs, Placid alarmed by an action of the sqviire's, the reason for •which h assigned by Mrs. Bustle. The widow makes memorandums. Their purport, and the effect they produced upon Mr. Bustle, described in a short dia- logue between himself and Mrs. Bustle - - - - 17 Chap, III. — A short controversy held by Mrs. Placid and her friend upon a much-disputed point. The probability of Squire Bustle's becoming a sincere Christian considered. The character of Miss Bus- tle; and her method of spending time. The first interview between Rachel and Miss Bustle described. The squire's feelings on the morning he had en- gaged himself to visit a prison in company with his friend the widow -.--.. ---.-3? Vl CONTEKTS. Chap. IV. — ^Mrs. Placid's friend denominated Mr. Friendly. A short conversation between him and the squire interrupted by the entrance of the widow. They visit the prison. The sensibihty of all parties aroused. The squire gives his opinion on the sub- ject of repentance and reformation. Mrs. Placid speaivs on the same topic. The prisoner begins to relate his histor}-, but is interrupted by a circum- stance to him awfully impressive ------- 46 Chap. V. — The squire and his fair acquaintance again visit the prison. The widow makes a few observations upon Christian candour. The prisoner resumes, and concludes, his narrative. The squire makes a few remarks, and is much impressed by the conduct of Mrs. Placid in taking leave of the crimi- nal. A few reflections upon prayer. Mr. Friendiy's opinion on sanguinary laws. The squire waits on a member of parliament with a petition. His recep- tion, and return home ----_----6l Chap. VI. — Mrs. Placid again visits the squire, and obtains a private interview with Mrs. Bustle. Their conversation related. The squire prevailed on to promise his company, to go with the ladies where he once said he never would. Mr. Friendly appears unexpectedly at Mr. Bustle's, and drops a few re* marks not unheeded by the squire. Mr. Friendly detects the widow in an erroneous sentiment. Her defence. A short character given of Mr. FfJendly's wife .-.------------ 7G Chap. VII. — Mr. and Mrs. Bustle visit the widow and Mr. Friendly. All parties not of the same opinion. They adjourn to a meeting-house. The squire's behaviour there. The preacher's subject, and Mr. Bustleli criticism. An unexpected event calls Mr, a«d Mrs. Bustle from home. A rcqueit made, iu eONTENTS. VU consequence, to Mrs. Placid. The squire proves the strength of his good resolutions in a party of his old acquaintances ---------- 8JJ Chap. VIII. — Particulars of a visit paid by Rachel to Miss Bustle. The former goes where she ought not. The consequence of her indiscretion. She meets unexpectedly with an old acquaintance. He relates a long story. Why Rachel did not act up to the conviction of her well-informed judgment - - - 104 Chap.IX. — Mrs. Placid greatly alarmed by intelligence received respecting her daughter. Mr. Friendiy's behaviour on this occasion, his conduct towards a smart gentleman, and his gallantry to a young lady. Squire Bustle returns home, and is surprised to hear of what happened during his absence. He evinces that he knows how to be grateful. The sentence passed on the convict, improved for the benefit of society ------- -.-.-„-i]9 Chap. X.— The squire relates to Mrs. Placid the par- ticulars of his late visit. She offers a few reflections. The squire returns home, and, in consequence cf a sudden death, is put into a great huny. Pie again waits on a member of parliament, pays his compli- ments to a widow-lady" and her son, transacts impor- tant business in a tew hours, and takes leave of the widow Placid, who condescends to grant him a favour -----.-----.-. 13S Chap. XI. — The wits of three fine geiulcmen exer- cised at the expense of Mr. Vrieudly. Their success, and Mr. Friendiy's behaviour on the occasion. An event takes place, which sut prises and disconcerts all parties. Mr. Friendlv visits a fine lady. His reception, and the- event of his visit. A reformation hoped for lu one whose errors proceed chiefly from wrong education ..«---.---. 150 Vm CONTENTS. PJtc Chap. XIL— The great power of female influence, and how it may best be acquired. A young cleigy- Hian does more than he engaged to do. How a mind of great energy, and warm feelings, will act under the influence of Christianity. The squire receives a short letter, and returns a long ansv.er. Its possi- ble effect anticipated. A conjecture formed respect- ing Rachel's future prospects in life, which will sur- prise no one. The author taives leave - - - » 16<» SEQUEL TO AN ANTIDOTE, kc, CHAP. I. Introduction. Squire Bustlers arrival at home, rcith an account of his wife. They visit Mrs. Placid. Their reception, and the zvidozo^s opinion of Sun- day engagements. A short dialogue between Mrs. Placid and her friend, in which a precept con- tained in Scripture is considered. Mrs. Placid avDios her motive in going to Mr. Bustle's house. Her arrival there, with an account of the squire*s method of entertaining his company. JL HE grave^ reserved gentleman, who presented the public with his adventures, and introduced the widow Placid to their acquaintance, having dis- appeared, and left no trace by which his name or place of abode can be discovered, it was concluded no farther account of his stage-coach companions would ever transpire; but, after a careful and dili- gent search, a few more particulars jelativc t» J»ART IT. S 2 THE SOUIRe's AURTVAL. jMrs. Placid and her friends have been collected, and are now presented to the public^ in the full confidence of their candid perusal, ai>d the liope that the memoirs contained in this second volume, being full as authentic as those contained in the first, will meet their approbation. Mr. Bustle arrived in safety at his snug habita- tion, where his wife and youngest daughter had prepared a hot supper, a clean hearth, and cheer- ful countenances. After the first hearty salutations were over, the 'squire, who was extremely abrupt in his communications, exclaimed — " I have got a new acquaintance for you; and to-morrow I will introduce you to one of the cleverest women I ever met with in my life." — " It must not be to- morrow, nor next day," returned }^\rs. Bustle, " for they are cleaning-house days, and our new maid will need my directions." As this was spoken in a peremptory, though mild, tone of voice, Mr. Busth m-<\c\e no reply: possibly, he knew that any expostulation on such a subject would be useless. Mrs. Bust/e then asked many questions rchitive to their son, the lawyer, and other matters of family interest, which she knew had engaged her hus- band's attention during his short absence. After he had gratified her curiosity in these particulars, he proceeded to relate briefly the adventures of the day, to the great entertainment of his family; and 80 deeply was his own mind engaged by his narra- tive, that he forgot his customary pipe after sup- CHARACTER OF MRS. BUSTLE. 3 per, to the no sinall tiatisfaetion of the ladies, who dreaded the interrupiion they knew each whiff would occasion to the story. Tiie subject was re- sumed at breakfast the next morning; and, in short, the 'squire could talk of little else but his stage-coach companions, amongst wliom tlie wi- dow evidently ranked the highest in his estimation. After breakfast, he had the satisfaction of seeing the day fiiie and clear; so, throwing his new gun across his shoulder, and suiiiuioning his favourite pointer, he niaiched out to take his usual rounds, whilst his wife busily engaged herself in avoca- tions which good housewives know to be of great importance. The fr.ther of Mrs. Bustle was an honest and industrious farmer. He was early in life instructed in reHgious truth by means of the preaching of Mr. Wesley. This circumstance did not tend to make him less industrious than he would other- wise have been, but it made him less ambitious; and instead of aspiring to the possession of four or five farms, and b}' that means monopolizing their produce, and enhaneiiig ihe market prices, he saw it his duty to be content with moderate profits, and to benefit society by a staled yearly disposal ui the bounties of the God of harvests. Dying in the prime of life with these sentiments, the farmer left but a very moderate provision for his widow and daughter, the preseiit Mrs. Bustle; but eco- nomy and gooti management supplied the want of ■4 THE S©UIRE*S 'courtship. a larger inconje^ and the frugal mother and the notable daughter were the admiration of the little circle in which they moved. In this situation, the latter attracted the notice of the young 'squire, as lie frequently passed the cottage, pursuing his country diversions. The want of birth and for- tune were no impediments to his avowal of attach- ment; and his good-humour, agreeable person, and ample fortune, were three powerful advocates in his favour with the object of his afiections. In fact, there was only one obstacle in the way: the 'squire appeared wholly destitute of reUgion, and the pious farmer, on his death-bed, had conjured his beloved Mary to bestow her hand upon none but a relitrious man. She had listened to his ex- hortation with a firm resolution of attending to it; and had not her flowing tears rendered her speech- Jess, her father would have received a solemn as- surance to that eiTect. It was well for Mr. Bustle that her sensibility had taken away the power of utterance o.t this important crisis, for whenever his beloved Mary pleaded her father's injunction, he could always reply — " But you did not promise:" ^ and then he would add — "Though I am not a re- ligious man now, 1 may be one some day or other." By this sort of arguments, and some others which the 'squire used on the occasion, INlary was pre- vailed upon to accc|)t his hand and fortune; and at the cx'piration of twenty-eight years, it was a common remark in the neighbourhood, when a ^ A VISIT TO THE WIDOW. 5 happy marriage was nientionecl, "They are as well matched as Mr. and Mrs. Bustle." In thus speaking of our hapjiy conpic, the reader uiust not imagine such an exact iniiformity of sen- timent and Judgment as to preclude the possibility of argument between theaij or such a tamo sub- mission on either side as to carry every point each might have in view; nor do we conceive this to be essential to n)alr!tnoni:i! hnpi)iiiess; certainly it was not found so in ihe jjic^eni instance, tor though Mr. and Mrs, lhiy years. back. ''But," said he, " 1 must not say a word about that before my wife, for it's all my own fault; ii 1 had loliowed licr advice, the law- yers would have had none of my money, my eldest daughter would not have been married to an ex- travagant husband, and " He paused, and glanced an eye at liis daughter Eliza, wliici) Mrs. P. understood to intimate was occasioned by his- € a 18 THE SQUIEe's story. having forgotten her presence. " Rachel,*' said she, " if it be agreeable to our young friend, I think tbou and lier had better take another walk round the garden." Tlie young ladies readily accepted the proposal; and, being left alone with the widow, the 'squire thus proceeded : " When we first married, I had a clear estate of twelve hundred a-year: I had, therefore, no occasion to save. We lived awaj'. I had double the number of horses I have now\ We had three women servants, besides a gardener and a foot-boy. I had an old aunt living just by, 'who had money in the funds to the amount often thousand pounds, and an estate of thre& hundred a-year besides, which she told me, over and ovei*, was all left to me; and the lawy-er who made her will, after he had one day taken a cheerful glass, assured me the same. Well, somehow or other we were a little behind-hand in five or six years." *' A proof," said Mrs. P., " that a large income, as well as a small one, should be managed \Aith a prudent economy." — " 1 must say," resumed the 'squire, " that I had many lectures from m;y wife on this subject; for she is the furthest removed jiom any wish of extravagance of any woman in tlie world. 1 took up a little money on my estate, and we nciihcr of us fretted about the matter, sup- j)Osing we shoukl have plenty of money when aunt died."—" 1 -think," interrupted Mrs. P., ''that I can anticipate thou wast disappointed m thiue THE LAWSUIT. 10 expectations from thine aunt." — "Just so/' replied Mr. B. : "somebody, I don't know who, but I be- lieve a l^iwycr was at the bottom of it, carried the story of my taking up a little money to the old lady; and she was so much displeased, that uhat did she do, but make a new will, and leave every shilling she had in the world to an hospital." — *^ What momentous consequences," said Mis. Pla- cid, " are produced sometimes from a little un- guarded conduct! I must needs say, thou wast severely punished for thine indiscretion." — "I tell you what," said Mr. B., in a very high tone of voice, " it was the hardest case that ever came into court; and I will ever maintain, that [ ought to have gained my cause." lie arose, paced the room with hasty steps, reseated himself, and proceeded. " Well, I was determined to try the matter a little : so the lawyers went to work on both sides, but the hospital ones carried their point — all owing to bribery and corruption, as L did his last election." — " Nay, friend," in- terrupted Mrs. l^., '•' thou shouldest not draw that inference, excepting thou hadst proof of it. If the will was clearly worded, and properly witnessed, I wonder thou siiouklest attempt to set it aside; and had it not been so, I caiuiot suppose that the governors of any hospital in England woiild have litigated the matter with thee." — " Aye," rejoined the 'squire, '* you talk like my wile; but you nei- ther of you know any thing about these rascals^ 20 THE AUNT. the lawyers. Well, I was angry enoiigli, as 5'ou. may suppose, with those who lost me my cause j and I sought out two others, who laid their wise heads together, and agreed it might be tried ano- ther way : one of these was the lawyer who had made the first will, and 1 knew him to be my friend." — " 1 must say," remarked Mrs. Placid, " that, in my opinion, thou didst act imprudently in choosing this person; seeing, by thine own ac- count, he was inclined to take a cheerful glass, as thou teraiest it> and then repeat the secrets af his profession : but proceed, 1 beg thee." — " I don't know the words the}' use in these matters," re- sumed Mr. B.^ "but so it was, that they agreed, to suppose the old lady insane, when she made her last will; and so, after a deal of preamble and expense, the matter was brought into court in this new form." — "^ U,'' said Mrs. P., *^ thou didst not in thine own conscience believe her to be ii'.sane,. thou didst act a criminal part here." Mr. B.. evaded a reply to this pointed observation, and went on. "There were oddities enough about the old woman to make any one supposa her insane^ a«d we liad plenty of witnesses to prove them : her servants all took their affidavits that they had sometimes seen her cotne down stairs to dinner, and that before company, witli her cap on the- hind part before;, and her neighbours all attested, that they frequently saw her running about her garden^ just like a mad woman, in all weathers,, THE SECOND TRIAL. 21 and in all sorts of out-of-the-way dresses. In replj to this, the opposite side proved that she Avas a woman of deep reading, and that nothing was more common than for such persons to nej;!ect the putting on their clothes in the common mode — they protested they sliould not have won- dered if she had come from her studies evcri/ day with her cap on the wrong way; and as to hev garden pranks, her apothecary had recomixieuded exercise, and, from the before-mentioned cause^ (her deep reading,) she was above all vulgar preju- dices, and cared not what her neighbours thought of her, or what appearance she made in their eyes. The counsel on both sides made themselves very merry; and they say there was more laughing ia the court than had been heard for many years: but this was all at my expense; every laugh they had, for what 1 know, cost me five shillings; and, to make sliort of the story, (for I see dinner is coming up,) my suit was again tried, cast, and condemned." — " Even as thou mighicst have ex- pected," said Mrs. P. " Indeed, friend, it does not appear that thou hadst proper grounds to go upon: it v.as a pity ihou wast not guided by the advice of thy friends !" The entrance of ISlis. B., with the intelligence that dinner was upon table, put an eiid to the con- versation, to the satisfaction of Mrs. Placid; who assured the 'squire, as she walked by his side into the dining-room, that slie had rather hear him £2 THE DISCOVERY. converse on any other subject than that of his law-suit. Mrs. Bustle had the satisfaction of see- ing her family dinner well dressed, and hearing the commendation of her guests, added to vvimt was to her still more satisfactory, pleasant looks of approbation from her husband; for Mr. Bustle never thought it necessary to find fault at his own table: at which none will be surprised, who consi- der he was not a fashionable man. The two young ladies, who seemed by this time well acquainted, soon after dinner withdrew. M is. Placid related the surprising discovery she had made of the person who had robbed her; and with which our readers are also made acquainted. She informed them that the following day she visited, as proposed, the miserable object — " But/* said she, " the extreme agitation of his spirits pre- vented much discourse. 1 had, however, the satis- faction of seeing what I imagine to be signs of penitence, and a proper sense of his awful condi- tion." — " I have no great opinion," said Mr. Bus- tle, "of these sudden conversions, and death-bed repentances." — " It is of little consequence," re- plied Mrs. Placid, " what opinion thou or 1 may form on this subject; such persons are in the hands of Him who alone knoweth their sincerity. Thine opinion is certainly the best to act upon; and, seeing thou hast nu dependence on a death-bed repentance, thou wilt not surely delay a moment longer to attend to the one thing needful." THH DINNER. «,1 The 'squire turned round a plate of walnuts which stood before hinn, and began selecting the finest for the acceptance of Mrs. P., who was al- ready plentifully helped. Her attention was not to be diverted by a few nuts. " Enjoy them thy- self," said she: " those 1 have here are excellent. The candour of thy disposition," proceeded Mrs. P., " i+nboldens me to use this freedom of speech: on our journey, I recollect thou wast ready to ac- knowledge thine errors in past time, and thy reso- lutions of amendment.'' — " But," replied Mr. Bus' tie, " you don't put me on a footing with this thief? 1 never did any thing like it. I have been honest and just in all my dealings ; and one of our verse-makers, 1 don't recollect which, says — " Axi honest man's the noblest work of God." — ''I can- not," resumed Mrs. P., '''determine in what sense the poet designs us to take this sentiment; cer- tainly, if we take the most enlarged view of an honest man, it includes sincerity of heart towards God, which evinces itself by a diligent inquiry into divine truth, and a determination of the will to obey its command; and that this honesty is wrought in the soul by the power of God I am willing to acknowledge — it is indeed the noblest work of God." Mr. 13. looked quite at a loss how to reply, and Mrs. P. proceeded : *♦ But if this sentiment be only confined to justice and honesty in our transactions with each other, it is a very erroneous one; for, in that case, the honest man. f4 A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. SO highly extolled, may be an unbeliever, or even an opposer, of the Gospel." She turned to Mrs, B. with an air which seemed to say — Shall I find in thee an aaxiliaiy, or an opponent? Mrs. Placid was iaimediately relieved from her suspense by- Mrs. Fnidles observing — " I have often wished that [ possessed a readiness of speaking on these subjects. I assure you. Madam, I was well in- structed in my youth, and I hope I have felt through' life something of the power of true reli- gion; but I know not how it is, I can never talk so as to explain to Mr. B. the nature of the Gospel doctrines in whicli I believe. Is not this a very uncommon case? I sometimes fear it is a proof that I have myself no part or lot in the matt,er." — " ]^y no meons an uncommon case," replied Mrs. P.; " I beJieve there are many pious Christians who, for want of a little argumentative skill, are unable to defend the ground-work on wliich they build all their hopes for time and eternity: such persons sliould be doubly careful to speak by tiicir actions — they may bring inore honour to the Gos- pel this way, than others who may state its doc- trines with the nicest precision, but who are less circumspect in their general walk and conver- sation." " Well," observed Mr. "B,, casting a look of complacency on las wife, ''she has talked a little in that wa}'."— " 1 am truly glad," said Mrs. P., "■ to hear thee acknowledge it; especially as I hope AK INVITATIOK TO PKISON. 0.5 lliou wilt ha won, as the apostle says, by the con- versation of thy wife. Paul," added she, with a smile, *' seems to recommend no other mode of talking to our sex : he won't allow us to speak in the church, and we must ask our husbands at home, implying that zee are always the party to be informed — possibly it might be the case in those dai/s." The widow spoke the words, those days, with a strong emphasis, on which we lea^e the readers to put what construction they please. " I wish, friend," said Mrs. Flacid, addressing herself again to Rlr. B., " that thou wouldest ac- company me on my next visit to this [)0or ])cni- tentj as I conceive him to be: these scenes, though painful to our feelings, are profitable; and 1 should rejoice in thy company on the occasion." The 'squire shrugged up his shoulders. "I don't know what to say to that," said he. " I should be sorry to refuse going any where with you; but V must own, I would rather go any where than to prison with you." Mrs. Bustle, now united her persuasions to the widow's, and the 'squire was soon prevailed on to engage for an attendance upon his fair friend even to the melancholy abode, which few other consi- (Icrationn could have prevailed upon him to enter. '^' But hold!" said he; "before 1 engage myself, -let me know if the Friend you are on a visit to, is tu be of the party." — -''Two will be quite enough n^ a time," replied Mrs. P. " I think so/' rejoined I!ART u. i) ClG 'JllE KIND riUSBANO. IVIr. B.: '^ tlien I will go with you." — '' I suppose, tlien/' observed the widow, " thou art, like many others, not much prepossessed in favour of my friend, from the little thou haat seen of liimr" — '' I cannot say I am," replied Mr. B.: " he is the Quaker direct; and, till I knew yon, I thought you were all the same." Mrs. Placid looked rather displeased at the general reflection implied in the 'jjquire's remark. " It is extremely wrong," said she, " to form hasty conclusions to the disadvan- tage of particular sects or individuals." She then enumerated several of the amiable qualities of her absent friend — particularly one, which, to her own sex, recommended him in the strongest manner. " He is," said she, " one of the kindest husbands I ever knew. His wife, who is my intimate friend, and on whose account I am a visitor at his house, has been confined to her chamber for these three last years. During that lung period, she has re- ceived from him unremitting attentions; and he lias spared no expenses to effect her recover}'. Mow, then," continued Mrs. P., " I ajipeal to thy candour, whether all these amiable dispositions ought not to counterbalance any little peculiarities of manner, though confessedly unpleasantr" The 'squire suddenly, with both his hands be- neath the table, gave three loud thumps, which occasioned tlie glasses to jingle, and Mrs. Placid to start and retreat with her chair. " \\ hat is the patter, friend:" said she. " Dear, Mr. Bm^lkr A POINTED QUESTION. 2? exclaimed Mrs. B., " 1 wisli you would leave olT these ways! — people, not used to yaw, can't take them. Ma'am, it is only my husband's way or" aeknowledt^ing hhnself convinced, and giving up an argument." — " I wisii thou hadst given it v.p in a quieter manner," returned Mrs. P.: '^ thou hast really flurried my spirits." The "squire asked ])ardon. ''I did not consider," said he, *^that you did not nndeistand all the noises v;e fox-lmnters make: why, 3'ou would be tii^htened out of your senses, if you was to hear us sometimes." — '"'And yet," rejoined Mis. P., (wlio, without having re- course to salts, had now recovered her usual com- posure,) " I fear this indecorous mirlh is the least evil found amongst you. Were I to dine wiih thyself and friends, after one of" thy fox-hunis, \\\vA\ should I see and hear besides?" This was a pointed interrogative; and it was accompanied with a look equally pointed and sig- nificant. Mr. Buslle made no reply, but a crim- son hue spread itself over his face, as he turned it round to look out of a window at ihe other side of die table. " 13id not some one pass the win- dow:" said lie. "No one, I'm certain," replied Mrs. B. Mrs. Placid, as we presume, not deeming alt her questions worthy of an answer, went on. *' I remember," said she, " many years ago, hearing a serious and sensible person converse on that im- portant scripture doctrine — regeneration. The 23 LIGHT CONVERSATION. company present needed no arguments to*])rOfe the necessity of being born again, because they all believed their Saviour's declaration, that ex- cept they were so^ they could not see the kingdom of God; but there were some, who were anxious for more evidence of their being the happy sub- jects of this new creation. Our friend proposed that each of us should ask, What company am I fit for upon earth? ' For, depend upon it,' said he, Hhe society we most delight in here v.ill be the society we shall join hereafter.' This is aa awful consideration," continued Mrs. P., " to those who cannot, from their hearts, declare if is their wish to be a companion of all them that fear God, and of them tiiat keep his precepts." Our country gentleman, who certainly could joke better than he could argue, attempted by that method to evade the widow's application ; he be- gan talking of meeting her in the next world, in a style of levity which Mrs. Placid could not allow of. " Be i)revailed on," said she, " to desist from thy present unseemly discourse ; and if thou wilt favour me with a pen, ink, and paper, I will cease from minfe, and minute down a memorandum or two." — " I thought you had done with business," $aid Mr. B., rising, and taking from a nciglibour- ing scrutoire the articles mentioned. "Thou art mistaken," rejoined his fair friend; '' I have busi- ness of great importance to transact." She thetir busily employed herself for ft few minutes; theu> THE USE OF THE BARN REFUSED. 29 cleliberalely folding her pnper and jilacing it in her pocket-book, she proposed anotlier walk round Mr. Bustle's beautiful garden. Here they were soon joined by the two young ladies. Mrs. Placid, though she made many excellent observations, seemed, for the remainder of the evening, not disposed for religious conversation. Tlie 'squire reminded her of his proposal to accom- modate her with his barn. She coolly answered — "1 thank thee, but am not moved to accept of thine offer." He looked rather surprised, and, with a shrewdness in his countenance, was going to maks some observation, when Mrs. Bustle, taking him by the arm, drew him aside, and whispered some- thing — ihe words we cannot Kay, but the effect produced was a somewhat graver deportment on the part of tlie 'squire. Mr. Bustle, his wife, and daughter, accompa- nied their friends home, and a day was fixed for the visit to tire prison. When the usual ceremony of shaking hands took place, the widow presented to the 'squire the paper of memorandums. " These f-w words," said she, '^ -concern thyself: read them at thy leisure.'" — "What can they be about:" asked Mis> Eliza Bustle, ns soon as they had parted from llieir friends. Tlie 'squire perused them, made no reply, but gravely put the paper into his pocket. The curiosity of Miss Bustle was not gratified ; tnu if the readers liave any upon the subject; wf B 2 30 THE widow's MEMOBAN HUM'S. inform them that the widow's memorandums were as follows: " Esteemed FrienI), ''1 AM concerned to observe thou art not in the frame of mind in which I conceive it proper to press upon thee more serious discourse: thy levity offends me; but I am still not without hopes of thy amendment. As thou dost value thine happiness both here andv hereafter, 1 entreat thee to be se- rious: consider thy age, and ask thyself this plain question — What have I been doing all my life? Tliou hast suOercd tiie word of exhortation from my lips, let not my pen oiTend thee ; for indeed, it is j;uided by a concern for thy best interests." Mrs. Bustle began to chat with her husband and daughter, but the former paid no attention to l;cr conversiticn; he walked some paces before them, and whistled a tune, which lasted the whole of the Wciy hcuiv.. We should be sorry for any to suppose our country gentleman "whistled as he went for v,'ant of the. ,^ht," and will therefore close our chapter, by relatini;; a short dialogue between himself and lady after supper; occasioned, we have no doubt, by the rcliecifOns which passed in iiis mind during his whistling moments. It was the office of Miss Biislle to bring her father's pipe, h<:. afier supper, and then she usually retired. Ai SIGNS OF REFORMATION. 31 soon as she had taken her leave this evening, and the 'squire had filled b.is pipe, he addressed the short (juestion to ]^»Trs. Bustle — '' Do you know my age?" — "To be sure I do," she replied: " you are just three years older than 1, and I was forty- eight last birth-day." — " You mistake," rejoined the 'squire; "1 know I'm not fifty-one — I am only fifty."—*' Well, be it so, my dear," said Mrs. 15.; *' but why did you ask, if you knew better than I?" The 'squire gave three puifs, but no answer. *' We are both of us old enough to be better,"" observed Mrs. B. *' jSo doubt of that," replied her husband. " W^hat have you been doing all your lifer" — " You can pretty well tell what I liave been doing for tliese last twenty-eight years," re- joined Mrs. B. "So I can," said the 'squire: " you have been trying to plea-e me, and taking care of your house and children; and I have been running after foxes, worrying hares and partridges, and putting myself into a passion every day, either with lawyers, dogs, or whippers-in." — " It must be confessed, indeed," rejoined iMrs. B., " that too much of your time has been spent in this manner; but there is no occasion to go on so — what re- mains may be devoted to better purposes." — *' How do I know that any remains?" replied Mr. B.^ lav- ing his pipe upon the table: " I may die to-night." " Pray, my dear," said M rs. B., '' don't talk in this low-spirited style! You are on the extremes to-day, ^Ye cannot say when we luv.y diej but S€ THE HAPPY EVENING. there does not appear any likeliliood of your dying to-nig^it: you are not ill, I hope?" — " Never bet- ter/' answered the 'squire; " but so was John Banter, who, if I remember right, died this time twelvemonth, just alier he had ate his supper, as I have now." He paused for a fe\v moments, then proceeded. *' I think you do right to pray every night before 3'ou go to bed, though 1 have laughed at you for it. I should like to see that prayer-book of your's: perhaps there may be one or t\¥0 prayers \]^ it fit for me." The reader may conclude that Mrs. Bnstk was not backw ard to produce her prayer-book : a prayer was selected, which her husl)and read with serious- ness and feeling; his spirits seemed more conv- poscd; and his affection:ite wife assured him that- she considered this as the happiest evening they had passed together since tlieir marriage. 5.1 : CHAP. Ill, A short eontroversy held hxj Mrs. Placid and her friend upon a niuch-di^rtitcd point. The pro- bahility of 'Squire Bnstie's becoming a ^ncero Cliriatian considered. The character of M/s^ Bustle; and her method of spending time. The frst interview between Rachel and Miss Bustle described. The 'squire's feelings oil the morning he had engaged himself to visit a prison in coup- pany uith his friend the tvidoiv. Though Mrs. Vlacid's friend had expressed some disapprobation at her visiting Mr. Busth,\\^ wished to know the particulars oF tiie visit, and the result of her intended admonitions. Curiosity is not con- fined, as some have imagined, to the iair sex: men, tliougli unwilling to own it, are yet under its powerful influence. On the following morning, during the breakfast hour, which the indisposition of Mrs. Viaeid's female friend obliged her and her daughter always to pass alone with the master of the house, he took occasion to accost her as fol- lows: " Had [ not been closely engaged last even- ing in reading to our much-loved friend above st^iirs^ I should have appeared below in time to 34 THE FORLORN HOPfe. pievetit the departure of thy new acquaintance so coldly. 1 assure thee I meant no disrespect either to them or tliyself; for although I would con- fcienciously avoid unnecessary visits out of ,our society, I would equally avoid an uncourteous be- haviour — sifeing that to be courteous is a scrip- tur.'il injuriCtion." — " I i^ccept thy excuse," re- turned Mrs. Placid;, " and thy omission was of no material' consequence, for it was too late to advise their staying with us. I am sorry also to remark, tliat neighbour Bmth was not in that frame of mind in which I Lad hoped and expected to find him : but yet I do not dcspair-r-sudden conversions are not often to be expected.'' — "And especially," interrupted the Friend, " to our per- suasion: our appearance is repulsive; and it re quires time and attenticfn to investigate and weigh our principles, and ihe expediency of our prac' tices: however, I am well pleased to hear that thou dost not despair, since it argues that a degree of hope may reasonably be entertained on tlie sub- ject." — '* Not a single gleam, in the sense thou meanest," rejoined Mrs, P/acid. " Thou art mis- taken in thy supposition that any at^t of the smallest make. Poor creature, it would be a sad weight for him to carry !" — " Oh," rc- fumed Mrs. Placid, " that I might live to sec the downfall of bigotry ! wherj tb.c church militant on earth should resemble the church i.iumph;uit in heaven. There no discorilaut note v>ili be lieard, and no rivalship prevail!" — "Thou art warm, thou art warm," returned the Friend, 'v and dost mis- understand my meaning, ia accusing me of hi- 36 WARMTH OF PEELING REPROVED, gotry : but we will wave the discussion of tills point. The meeting, or, rather, the assemblv, of Christians in question, approximates nearer to us in ()[)inions than any otherj and if riding on horse- back really disorders thee, thou art right, perhaps, to refrain. But I wish to speak a few words re- specting thy warmth of feeling on some occa- sions — it leads thee into incorrect expressions: for instance, I have heard it said, and that very pub- licly, that, in thy zeal to advance the interest of practical Christianity, thou hast broached this sen- timent: 'Good works is the sum and substance of true religion.' Now, on cool reflection, thou must be sensible that this sentiment is contrary to Scrip- ture, which every tvhere asserts the necessity of faith, and good works only as the effect of this noble principle implanted in the soul by God him- self, who has a{)pointed the means for its attain- ment and increase. While, therefore, thou dost, agreeably to the injunctions given by Paul to Titus, affirm constantly that they which liave be- lieved in God ouglit to maintain good works, as things good and prolitftble unto men, thou shouldest guard against the dangerous conclusion, that they comprise the 7i 7/o/e of religion."—"! thank tlice most cordially for thy observation," replied Mj-^. Placid : " writers, and public speakers, arc coiili- nually called to circunispection; and the expres- sion thou hast pointed out was, taken in an en- larged sense, improper, yet, in a more coiitnvd. 4 AX AMICABLE ADJUSTMENT. 57 ox^c, it is literally true; for good works arc sub- stantial cviclcnceg of faith, and the grand design of the Gospel is to produce thcni, not only as pro- fitable unto men, but also for the glory of God: in this point of view, they are the sum and sub- stance of religion." — '^^ There appears to ine," re- };lied the Friend, (^fter a pause,) '''more ingenuity fhan soundness in thy explanation; and as^ by thy own acknowledgment, the sentiment is not alio- gt'ther correct, I would advise thee never to use it again in thy public addresses, seeing there are often present persons of unlearned and unstable minds, disposed to wrest every inadvertent word in the speaker to their own destruction." — "And thou might have added, the Scriptures themselves," replied Mrs. Placid. " Neither writers nor speak- ers can cx'pcct to escape misconstruction; but can- did readers and hearers will attend to tbe general tendency of tlieir instructions, and not, with an in- vidious scrutiny, select detached passages, which, taken in connexion, would be found to harmoni;^e: by this unfair mode of procedure, the Bible, as v»ell as every other hook, may be supposed to cdritradict itself. However, as [ remarked before, we are calle.d to great circumspection, and I am obliged by thy observation." The above short eon iroversy being thus amica bly adjusted, (in which, as in many other contro- versies, the parties meant, under different modes of expiession, to convey the same meaning,) Mrs, YMIT II. E SS FAMILY PRAYES. Flacid's friend made more particular inqiuries re- specting Mr. Bustle and liis family, and received from the widow the information already conveyed to the reader. He shook his head with the air of a sagacious physician, when he implies Ids patient is past recovery ; and Mrs. Placid noticed the action with the disposition of mind usually enter- ■tained by the affectionate friends, when their fal- tering voices allow them to remark — Ah, doctor, while there is hfe there is hope. If iSjrs. Placid could hope under such dark ap- pearaaces, how much more would she have done so had she witnessed the scene mentioned in the last chapter, and seen Mr. Bustle the foljowing morning perusing attentively the pious author's preface to his book of devotions. Here the duty and reasonableness both of private and family prayer was clearly stated, and the reader affec- tionately urged to the practice. One argument used by the author in favour of the duty recom- mended, forcibly affected the 'squire. It may rea- sonably be supposed that family prayer will act as a check upon unholy tempers and actions; for will not the master be ashamed to contradict, in the presence of his children and servants, those senti- ments he has just advanced in the solemn act of addressing a throne of grace? " I do verily be- jieve," said Mr. Bustle, " that if I take this good man's advice, and read over, every night and morn- ing, one of these prayers to you and the jest of A -nALK IN TlIK GARDEN. 59 t]»c lamily, that I shall not l>e so npi to fall into a passion^ and use such bad words." He was easily prevailed upon by Mrs. Inislle to try the experi- )Ment ; and she anticipated, with no small degree *.it' j)leasure, the benefieial effects she expected would result. Possibly some of our juvenile readers may be desirous of knowing more of Miss Bustle, j'.nd hearing the conversation which passed l)etwccn licr and llaehel; and we would willingly gratify sueii a reasonable ciuiositv, but we really fear ihe charge of insipidity, did we rtilaie all which passed between the young friends on the present occa- sion. The leading trait in Rachel's character was reserve; and Miss Bustle was so overawed by the gravity of her deportment and appearance, that fche felt quite at a loss how to address her, or what topic to introduce. The first turn round the gar- den alone was taken in profound silence; but on the second Miss Bustle ventured to ask Rachel, if she was fond of the country ? " I believe I shoidd like it very well," replied Racliel, " if my mother and the rest of my friends were near me." Ano- ther pause. " How dost tliou employ thy timer" resumed Raeliel. Now had Rachel studied for a question to per- plex her new acquaintance, she could not have fixed upon one more calculated; for the truth was. Miss Bustle did not, strictly speaking, •c//?/:>/oi/ hcf ■iO MISS bustle's CIIARACTEIl. time, but zvasted it, without reflection on its value, or her own responsibility. Her mother frequently remonstrated with her on this subject, and engaged tier as much as possible in domestic avocations; but these employments were soon, exhausted, and^ many hours of leisure remained. She had learnt music and drawing, but not possessing a taste or genius lor either, botii were .neglected ; and, in short, the principid part of Miss Bustle's time was occupied by strolling about tlie fields with a young acquaintance or two as idle as herself, feeding the poultry, beginning pieces of fancy needle-work, but finishing none, and talking with the maid. Her understanding was not of a very brilliant kind, and her advantages for its cultivation neces^ sarily circumscribed ; for the reader must long since have discovered that her father was far from being a man of letters, and her mother, if possible, was still less informed on every branch of litera- ture. Lest the disclosure of this secret should ex- cite any impression to the disadvantage of Mrs. Bustle, we remark, thi^ ignorance was not the re- sult of an unreflecting or uninquiring mind, but was merely occasioned by her having, thoughout life, been j)lace(l in situations where literary know- ledge was not to be acquired. The last piece of furniture her husband deemed necessary was a book-case; and he always maintained that female readers were good for nothing. "Witness my JUVENILE CONVERSATiON. 41 ©!d aunt," said he; ''if s^lie had let books alone, she would have been too wise then to have left her money to an hospital." But how did Miss Bustle reply to RacheFs em- ba^•u^sing question r She took a j)rudeiu measure, and replied only by a retort of the same question. " When we are at home/' said Rachc], *' we are very methodical in the management of our time. Of course, a chapter or two is rend in the morn- ing; after that, vve sit down to work; tlien, if the weather is fi^ie, we oft(?n take a little walk; and after dinner we do a little more work. Aunt Hes- ter gener;dly comes to tea; and after tea vve al- ways read some instructive book. VV'e have numy friends to visit us; and w&go to meeting on fourth- day: so that our time never hangs lieavy on our liands." At ti;e mention of work. Miss Bustle recollected her many untinished pieces, and proposed shew- ing ihem to Rachel. She took iter, for this pur- pose, into her apartment. Rachel admired theii- designs, but expressed great surprise at the want of perseverance displayed. "Thou art the reverse of my aunt Hester," said she; " for I have heard her say she never began a piece of work in her life (hat f;he did not fini.sh; and thou wouldest be surprised to see the quantity of work siie does, not only for herself and fiieinls, but her p«oor neigh- bours also." — " Oh/' exclaimed .Mis& Bustle, "she e2 42 CURE FOE A BAD MEMORY. h an old maid! 'Tis amazing what patience anil- perseverance they all have: but I hate old raaids !" *' She is a single woman," returned Rachel, red- dening with some emotion at hearing the epithet used by Miss Bustle; '' and I'm sure, didst thou know her, thou couldst not hate her." Miss Bustle next displayed her drawings; but most of them too, being in an unfmishcd state, failed to attract much notice or admiration. She then proposed a game of cards; but Rachel de> clared she did not know a single one that could be mentioned, and added a few observations she had heard from her mother against card-playing^ *• What shall wc da to amuse ourselves?" said Miss Bustle. " Canst thou not recollect some story, or entertaining observations, from any book thou hast lately perused?" replied Rachel. Miss Bustle said she luid a bad memory. " That is much to be lamented," observed Rachel; "but I can tell thee, for thy encouragement, that I had used to labour under the same disadvantage till aunt Hester put me into a method to mend it. She advised me to write down ]){issages from the books I read, or commit them to memory, and then, by frequently reading, or repeating them over, by that means to strengthen my recollection. Be prt;vailed. on," continued Rachel, " to make use of this means; for I assure th^ie 1 have expe- lieiiccd tlie benefit of it.*' — " Well," said Miss Bus- LADY JANE GREY. 43 tie, wiiii a smile,, " let me have a specimen: do you inform me of some entertaining story." After a little reflection, Rachel recited the par- ticulars of the affecting history of Lady Jane Grey. Her warm and amiable sensibility quali- fied her to give the full force due to the subject. She wept^ and her fair auditor wept too. She re- probated, in the strongest terms, the conduct of the cruel queen, who condemned to death the lovely rival ; but Rachel reminded her that some allowance should be made even for her conduct. " For," said she, " thou knowcst she lived undeu the blind influence of popery; and she esteemed poor Jane Grey an heretic; and that it was lawful, and even meritorious, to put such to death : per- haps, had thou or I been in her place, we might have done the same." — ** Impossible I" exclaimed Miss Bustle. " 1 am inclined to be of thy opi- nion," returned Rachel; *' but 1 have frequently heard my mother say, that we cannot tell what evils we might not be guilty of, if left to ourselves. Eut I am rather surprised," continued she, *^ that thou shouldest be a stranger to this story, or any other so remarkable in tlie history of thy own Gountr}'." Miss Bustle was now constrained lo acknow- ledge that she knew nothing of history; and Ra- chel, at her request, communicated a few more particulars of a similar nature. Miss Bu&tle seemed. 44 A LOWERING MORNiNG. to regard her as a prodigy of learning, and lis- tened with attention to all her- discourse. It may be supposed that Rachel, finding Miss Bustle so ignorant and incapable of conversaiion, would gladly relinquish her society; but whether she dis- covered" some latent qualities of an agreeable na- ture in the young lady, or whether actuated by an impulse of vanity and conscious superiority,, we cannot determine; but certain was it, that when questioned by her mother respecting a further in- timacy in the family, she replied — ^' 1 like neigh- bour Bustle very well; and, if thou hast no objec- tion, will sec her frequently while \Ye continue in> these parts." When the morning arrived which was appointed for the visit to the unhappy prisoner, Mr. Bustle looked out of his chamber-window. He remarked that the clo'.:ds were loweiing; antl conjectured,- that if it rained, the widow would not pursue her intentions of going to the prison. He thought it might be a.gootl plan to send Jamcs^ upon liiglit- foot, just to ask if she continued in the same mind,- and to mention his own appreliensions of unfa- vourable weather. Mrs. Bustle rallied her hus- band on his want of gallantry: supposing the wi- dow iiad altered her mind Jis to her visit, yet still an hour might be passed with her. ^' What, in the Gompany of old Primf hastdy remarked the squire : '^ Or, what is quite as probable, only iti Mil. bustle's departure. 45 company with her daughter/' rejoined Mrs. Bus- tle. " Possihli/, alone with her/' observed Mr. B.; and, as if animated by the idea, he instantl}' reached his hat^ seized his stout walking-stick, and set off. Tlie clouds dispersed, the squire's countenance brightened, and in the best humour imoginablij he entered the house oi' Mrs. PI acid's friend^ V. here, if the reader pleases, he may enter too. 4(} CHAP. TV. Mrs. Placid's friend denominated Mr. Friendh/. A short conversation hctu'emi I/im and the squire inferriipted by the entrance of the nidoi::'. 'J'heif visit the prison. The sensibility of all parties aroused. The squire gives his opinion on the subject of repentance and rcjormalion. Mrs. Placid speaks on the same topic. The prisoner begins to relate his history, but is interrupted by a circumstance to him anfuUy impressive. Feahful of offending the delicacy of Mrs. Pla- cid's amiable friend, we must forbear communi- cating, his real name to the public; but for our own convenience in speaking of him^ and as cha- racteristic of liis general conduct and disposition, we shall, in future, denominate him INIr. Friendly. In Mr. I^icndly's parlour, then. Squire Bustle made his appearance, just as lie was brushing his liat, preparatory to taking his accustomed morn' ing's walk. Mr. Bustle, conjecturing his inten- tion, begged he might not prevent his setting out. "By no means," returned the Friend: " I am in no liaste, and unwilling to leave thee alone." — " 1 aai used to being alone," returned the squire; " uniess indeed iny pointer may be called company: we- <2 COMMON MORAT-ITY. 47 Stroll about togcliicr for hours." — " I am glad to ■liear thee remark that thou hast no objection to solitude/' repHed Mr. Frletidly : *' it augurs well, whcu a man can say, * I like to be alone.' Indeed, the good man is never less alone than when alone, paradoxical as the sentiment may appear: and if what our great and justly-admired poet, Milton, -observes be trae, (which I see nothing in Scrip- ture to contradict,) we are conlinually surrounded with invisible beings, observing our actions, and, .pomilii, acting as our guardian angels. He says, 'Millions of spiritual creati.res walk tlie earth I'liseen, both when wc wake, and wlien we sleep.' It is a sublime idea; and we may safely, nay, pro- fitably, indulge it — seeing, as I remarked before, there is nothing in Scripture to contradict it. Now with all Mr. Bustle's faults^ he was no hy- pocrite, and never wished to be given more cre- dit than he deserved; he therefore, witliout -the smallest hesitation, replied — ''You ascribe my not being averse to solitude to the wrong^causc. Sir, if you think religion has any share in it — no man, I believe, has less: and if plain common morality be not sufficient to take me to heaven, 1 fear I shall never get there." — "Thau art frank indeed in thy confession," returned Mp.Friendly, " but very vague in thy definition of the word morality: wiiat dost thou mean by the term plain common morality ?" Mr. Bustle's impatient spirit broke forth, and he 43 THE -EXPLANATIOX. Ruswered — " I should suppose every body knew T»liat. tlie word morality means." — " I think not/' coolly replied ?5lr. Friendly : "too many persons f uppose it to comprise the whole of practical reli- gion. Now if they gave it the extensive meaning the word is capable of, and contended that it com- prehended everv thing that belongs to manners — embracing every branch of a man's duty to his God, his neighbour, and himself, it would be well, and a moial person would be a t4"ue Christian. But they generally fall far short of giving it this extensive meaning; and the whole it is usually un- derstood to signify, is, that a man is honest, sober, and discreet. 1 ask thy excuse for requesting a particular explanation; seeitig my curiosity was raised to know if plain common morality meant still kss than tiiis." Mr. Bustle smiled — *' You have caught me very fairly," said lie; " hoivever, I can assure you I'm honest; as to my sobriety and discretion " Here the squire shrugged up Ids shord.lers, and was happily relieved, by the en- trance of Mrs. Placid, from a further explanation. *' 1 am ghui to find thee so punctual to thy en- ganrement,^' observed Mrs. Placid, as s'.ie entered the room; " and I hope we shall both this morn- ing verify the truth of the wise man's observation: 'That it is better to go to the house of mourning than of feasting.' " The squire mjide no other re[)ly than " Good morning to you, Ma'am/' and cast a glance at A VISIT TO THE PRISON 4^ Mr. rricndly, whicli seemed to say — We will talk when out of his hearing. Accordingly, while arm in arm they walked together, he Look orcasion to thank lier for her attention to his spiritual welfare. " I have thought/' said he, " on tliosc words you wrote on that scrap of paper ever since; and I do" verily heiieve that i have beeu doing worse than notliing the greatest part of iny life. JNIy wife says I am fifty-one, though I think I am o'.ily fifty ; however, a year more or less is no great liiattcr. But am I not too old now to mend r" — » "Nut a day too old," replied his fair monitor: "it is ail nnspeakahle mercy to be called to the know- ledge of the truth eaily in life; but, blessed be God, there is an eleventh hour." After a few more remarks of an encouray-inir and consolatory nature, they gained the glooiny habitation of wretchedness and w'oe, and were soon ushered into the cell of the poor convict. He arose at their entrance, and a gleam of satis- faction lighted up his melancholy countenance, as he fixed his eyes upon the benevolent widow. The rattling of his fetters seemed to afieet Mr. Bustle even more than the sight of his person; and ia speethless emotion,, he made signs to the unhappy man to seat himself again on the side of his mi- serably-looking couch, while lie placed the stools, with wliich ihe turnkey had accommodated the visitors on each side. The prisoner was little less affecttd, and it remained with Mr^. Placid to break PART n, F 50 . THE VALUE OF LIFE. the solemn silence. " \Ne are come/' said she, " in the liope of administering to t!iy comfort, not to distress thy feelings; and I entreat thee, if pos- sible, to be easy in our company, and freely to communicate thy wants, and say how we may serve thee." — "Just so," added the squire: " come, take courage, man ! — who knovvs — ^oux life ma}' yet be spared. [ dare say [ shall know some of the juiy; possibly I may be summoned myself; and, if so, every thing shall be done for you." — " Life, Sir," returned the prisoner, " is of little value to those who are tired of it: mine will be justly forfeited to ihe laws of my country. I have uo anxiety about this world, but only to prepare to meet my God." — "Why should you be tired of the world?" rejoined the squire: " 30U have not lived so long in it. You don't look more than forty." — "You have guessed my age exactly, Sir," replied the unhappy man; " but a life of sin is a dreadful sul)ject for retrospection, and would im- bitier future years, were they allowed me." — " But," said Mr. Bus;le, "you ought to wish for life, that vou might have time for repentance and amend- ment. It is a dreadful thing to be cut otf in the midst of our sins." — " It must be so. Sir," resumed the criminal; "but, blessed be God, this is not my case: he has allowed me, in these gloomy abodes, space for repentance; even here the offers of pardon are made me; and I am permitted to indulge a liope, that tlic same divine grace which A MISTAKE RECTIFIED. O I vva^ extended to the dying thief upon tlie cross will be exercised towards ihc," — " 1 d-ii't wif^^i to tlishearten \oii," returned Mr. Bustle — '•' far iVoin it; and 1 arri not come to sit in juJgmeiil on your sincerity: but 1 must just remark, (hat repentance and reformation are the great source of dependence (at least as I should suppose) on which to groinid al! our hopes of gainin;j; the divine favour. Here Mrs. Pl.'icid thought fit to interpose. — *' The Gospel," said sire, " Is a disj ensalion of grace, suited to the wants and circumstances of •every inclivi(iual to whom it is sent.. Ii says to all — ' Repent, and be converted, that your siui may be blotted out :' and it says, also — * Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be snved.' Now these two portions of Scripture arc not at variance, for fartli and hoii7!Css are inseparable; and, doubtless, the sinful jailor to whom the last was addressed, shewed the sincerity of his faith by t!ie purity of his life: but it is evident, that faith alone is available for justification. 1 consider I have scriptural grounds to go on when 1 pro- nounce our friend here, (looking at the ])risoner,) if lie really believes in Christ, as safe, though he is not allowed the opportunity of proving by his obedience the reality of his faith in the eyes of his fellow- creatures, as thou art, wlio may be favoured by such an opportunitv. And indeed," continued i^lrs Placid, " were it not for tliis hope, why should we visit the iWmz, bed 52 THE PRISON FIVS HISTOKY. of the sinuefj any more than tiie cell of die ciiini- nal? The Gospel, in that case, would not be glad tidings to all men: we should not then be 'saved by grace, through faith;' but by works, whereof ■we might boast." Though the squire, being unacquainted with Scripture, and never duly considering the subject, certainly did not fully comprehend Mrs. Pkicid's meaning, he acquiesced in her opinion; and turn- ing to the prisoner — "Well," said he, "if it be not impertinent, I should like to be informed how it liappened that you have fallen into such a depth of depravity, as to bring you into this situation ?" " Sir,'' replied the unhappy malefactor, " I have no objeciion to gruiiiy your curiosity." Mrs. Pla- cid signified her wislies also to be informed on the subject; and the prisoner began his melancholy detail, as follows: " 1 was the only son of a person of respecta- bility in the west of England, who lived on a small estate, and devoted most of his time and attention to country amusements." — " He was not the worse for that," remarked the squiic. " Perhaps not. Sir," returned the jKisoner, looking rather sur- j)rised at tlie abrtipt interiu[)lion ; *' but this pro- pensity of my father's was \i::ry unfortunate for mc; as, ia consequence, 1 was V(n'y early in lii'e introduced into the sporting world, as it may be termed; and, consccjuenlly, acquired an hal)it of idleness, and a love of di'^sipation." Mr. Bustle AN attorney's clerk. 53 seemed to sit railier iinca?y, but mnde no remark. The prisoner proceeded : " I was placeition: th.e lawyer to vhom I was articled was an honour to his profes- sioi^, ; and had 1 continued an inmate in his house, and attended to his instructions, [ should not have been what I am now, an outcast in society. Un- used to ajjplication, and averse to domcsric habits and control, I was soon tired of my new situation. I wrote many letters to my father, to entreat him to free me, if possible, from my eivgagement; but finding my entreaties ineffectual, I took the shorter method of freeing myself, by leaving secretly my master's house, and commencing-, a. I termed it, a citizen of the world. As my father had liberally supplied me with cash during the year I conti- nued with the attorney, and 1 had little opporiu- F 2 54 THE ROAD TO KUIN. nity of spending it, I wasj in my own ideas, tole- rably rich; and taking^ a lud2:in^ in a ver\^ obsciu'e part of London, I resolved there to wait till my father's intentions should be known respecting my future designation. From this lodging I wrote to him, and received for answer, that the news of my elopement had reached his car before my letter ; that if I had any regard for his happiness and my own reputation, I must return to the home 1 had quitted, where 1 should be kindly received, and iny ill conduct forgiven. To this kind and fa- therly remonstrance I gave an insolent answer, and an absolute refusal to comply with his wishes." *' Ah !" inteirupted Mrs. Placid, *' nothing thou canst relate will surprise me after this; disobe- dience to parents is the first step to ruin. But proceed in thy story." — *' 1 now," resumed the prisoner, ^'considered myself an independent cha- racter; but how to support that independence was the question : I vras averse to all employment, and, indeed, h;id I not loen so, there was none I was capable of engaging in. JNly finances were daily decreasing, and my high Sjjirit was some- wiiat abated, when an acquaintance) who was in ;iossess;on of ail my confidence, called upon m^y and suggested a scheme, by which, he said, I should be certain of gaining a few pounds, and, Itomhlif, making my foitune. I eagerly inquired, ]»V what means? ' By ttuTiing author/ saitl he. I ihouglit he rallied nic, ^wX was half inclined to be A VOUNG AUTHOR. 55 angry; but lie seriously assured me tliat, in liis opinion, 1 iiad abilities tor the undertaking, and that probable success awaited nie. What flatters our vanity is often easily believed: my friend soon talked me into a similar opinion with himsi-If; and it only retrained to determine on the species of literrdure to which m}- genius was best adapted. During the time I had passed at home uet\,een leaving school and entering on my law studies, I had perused many novels and romances, and I fancied I understood the art and mystery of such compositions. 1 seized the pen the instant mj friend dei arted, and wrote several pages wiih an ease and tacihty v.hirh astonished even myself. In a few weeks my work was completed ; and, ia the full confidence of success, T deliver d it to a bookseller for his peaisal and purchaj-e. Week after week elapsed, and 1 was politely assured, nothing but Indisper.sab'e engagements had pre»- vented the readin-^: oi" i ly manuscript, rill, at length, r>,y patience was exhausted; and 1 waited on the boc»kseller, as 1 told him, for the last time, and insisted on taking the work out of hi« liands-, unless he would immedimeiy peruke it. He re- garded me with son^e attention. * Young gen- tleman,' said lie, ' I presume yen w;;nt money : your manuscri-pt shall be re;id in a few days.' Vv'ith this reply 1 departed once more in hope>and failed not to make my appearance again in-^ few days, when I was usliercd into a private room, to 56 THE ENRAGED AUTHOR. Avait the arrival of the critic who was to deciile upon my first literary profhiction. In a few mi- nutes he euteretl, with the manuscript in his hand. ' Sir/ said he, 'you have talents; but your work might be greatly improved : and I am sorry to say, though, as 1 obser-e, you have talents, they are not of that original and splendid kind to com- mand pojvalarity.' — 'Then, Sir/ re[>lied J, 'you decline ihe W(nk, i presume, altogether : I only wish you had given me your opinion before/ tak- ing t!ie manuscript from his hand. * WHiy no,' returned he, ' not ahogt.'her; it is capable of im- provement; and I think a literary gentleman of my acquaintance would, at my request, improve it, and uiake it Gt for the public eye: but then, in that case, he niust be very libera! iy paid, and I can a.Toid to give you but little. However, doti't be discouraged; you area young writer, and, very possibly, your next work may need less revision, and I may be rbie to be more liberal.' Somewluvt encouraged by this adtlress, I ventured to ask what he could afford for the work in question. IJe he- sitated for a considerable time, calculated it would make about tliree volumes in tlie modern style of printing, witli a full type and a large margin, and at length hoj)ed 1 should not consider five guineas too little for a fust attempt, so dcteciive and incor- rect. My temper, naturally irritable, was now roused ahnost to madness, and, in my rage, I be- gan to tear the manuscript in pieces, throv.ing THE CATASTROPHE. 57 Uicm into a good fire which was before mc. The bookseller for a moment stood as if petrified by astonishment, at the extraordinary phenomenon of an autlior burning his own writings; but the tire blaziiig very higii gave him a new alarm, and lie began to be territicd for the safety of his chim- ney, and rung the bell hastily for his servanis to assist in stopping the iiames. A scene ol" confu- sion now ensued not easy to be described : suffice it to say^ that the house was saved, but my xnanu- script w;is consumed ; and we parted with mu- tual re[)ruaches and execrations — ^1 censuring him for his meanness and duplicity, and he retorting on my folly and madness in destroying my own la- bours. i\mong other things,he exclaimed, he would sooner have given fifty guineas than this event should have liappened: an expression which 1 un- derstood as acknowledging he had greatly under- valued my performance; though others, not so partial, may perhaps think he had also a reference to the terror of the conilagration." '•'A rascal! a cheat!" exclaimed ISIr. Bustle; " I sliould have been in a passion too liad 1 been in your place: why your lawyers and booksellers arc fit to go together!'' — " Don't censure so indis- criminately," said Mrs. Placid; " there are good and bad in all professions. Really thi u wast used ill in this business : how diusr iliou conduct thy- self afterwards?" " I left," resumed the prisoner, *^ the bookseller 58 THE ART OF CRiTlClSM. in great perlr.rbution of mind, r.ud retired to my lodging, where I had appointed my iViend to meet me, that we might rejoice logeiher in the expeeted ■success of my vohjmes. He suggested some rays of consolation, by remarking, that, from the book- seller's c.l. Awful consideration for those writers who attract 60 THE ALARM. admiration for their wit, when prostituted in the cause of irreligion or immorality !" Just as jSIis. Placid was speaking the last sen- tence, she heard the soiirrd of music at a distance, and observed a sudden paleness overspread the face of the prisoner. " The tribunal of tlie Judge Eternal !" repeated he : " Ah, here comes my «aiihly judge, who is to usher me into his pre- sence! That music is a well-known sound to me: I have frequently heard it; but never when 1 have been so deeply interested." The sound advanced nearer and nearer, and the two visitors became almost as mucii affected as the prisoner. The narrative was, of course, interrupted; and after Mrs. Placid had enlarged, as well as her agitated fcehngs would allow, on all the consolatory ideas her imagination could suggest, and the squire had insisted upon the j)risoner's taking a lew cordial drops he procured from the turnkey, they took leave, engaging to call again the first opportunity. W the readers Nvish to hear the conclusion of the narrative, they must once more return also to the melancholy cell, and their curiosity shall be gra- tified. Gl CHAP. V. 3'hc squire and his fair acquaintance again visit iht prison. The zcidow makes a few observations upon Christian candour. The prisoner resumes, and concludes, his narrative. The squire makes a few remarks, and is much impressed by the conduct of Mrs. Placid in taking leave of the criminal. A fio rner, " as thy spirits are C(nnj)osed, t t-houkl be obliged if thou wilt resume thy narra- tive: thy adventures seem of rather an uncommon nature, and have raised an interest in my mind. '] hou left off with an account of thy increase in knowledge, w'hic4i, alas! sontetimes only serves to render depraved characters more dangerous; for, as the poet says, 'Great ill is an achievemenl of great powers.'" " Tiie observation was veiified in the present case," returned the criminal: "for, by reading good autjjors, and hearing the most eloquent- preachers, my ow n style of composition was great- ly iinproved ; and thus, from the very persons I affected to despise, (for I could not, in my heart, despise genius and eloquence,) I acquired the 'iveapons by which alone 1 could in the smallest degree become injurious. An easy flow of lan- guage, and a good choice of words, compensated, in the estimation of sin>crficial readers, for the fu- tility of my arguments. I ransacked the pages of deistical writers for quibbles, if my own fertile imagination failed to sup[)ly them. As these quib- bles were new to most of my juvenile leaders, I was regarded as a writer of profound penetrntion ; and. 6-1. SIINGS OF CONSCIENCE. jike a modern advocate for deism, was given credit for discoveries made ages sincCj and answered to the satisfaction of every candid enquirer after truth. My employers and myself would perhaps have been less dangerous, had we come forward as avowed deists, and enemies to revealed religion f but we chose to denominate ourselves Christians, and to be the opponents only of enthusiasm. What the term enthusiasm meant we never attempted to explain ; but stigmatized every author with the op- probrious name who dared to avow his belief in the literal and obvious language of the sacred writings." " And hadst thou no compunctions of con- science," asked Mrs. Placid, " whilst thou wast doing all this?" "" At first I felt very uneasy," replied tiie narra- tor, " and considered myself as acting from mer- cenary motives, in opposition to Christianity; but just as my convictions were risen to the greatest height, and i was almost on the point of throwing aside my pen, I fell in company with a set of grave and, reputedly, very learned men, who as- sured me, that after incredible pains of research, they had discovered that the commonly-received trnnslaiion of the New 'Testament was erroneous, and, consequently, all that I had advanced against what was called evangelical' doctrines was true, and that I might very safely proceed in my task of endeavouring to bring them into disrepute. As I had a SQxy high opinion of the learning and THE DEATH OF A FATHER. 05 candour of these persons, and was well disposed to acquiesce in their opinions, especially, as hy that means my apprehensions ^cf guilt were in a great measure removed." *' But I want to know/' said the squire, ^''wliat your father ivas doing all this time. A pretty sort of professing Christian reviewer was you, if you bestowed no thought upon his feelings while you thus absented yourself." *' He was little in my thoughts, and still less iti my affections/' returned the prisoner; "and I pur- sued this plan of living, which 1 have described, for about three years, when one day, casting my eyes on a newspaper, I read the recent death of my long-neglected father. I shed a few tears, and felt some slight emotions of tender regret. Interest required me to make my apj-earance, in order to claim what was now ^unless bequeathed to one more wortliy) my legul inheritance — liie estate on which my father resided-, and w hlch was the whole of his property. I set ol^" •immediately, and found aa uncle on^ihe sjjot, m.inaging the concerns of my deceased parent. xMy uncle in- forn)ed me that my father died without a ^\\\\, and, consequently, all was mine. lie related some affecting circumstances a:t->nding Ins illness — such as the regret he expressed at my undutiful eon- duct, the pains he took to di.scover the j)lace of my concealment, and the numy anxieties he felt ou my account. My uncle too expostulated with 65 AN INDEPENDENT (iENTLEMAN. nie on my conduct, and gave me the best advice; but I haughtily replied, that I considered myself a free agent, and the proper master of my own actions. 1 soon took my leave of him, sold my estate for five thousand pounds, and returned to London, with the intention of living on the in- terest of this sum, and bidding adieu to all care and employment. My reviewing friends expressed their concern to hear of my determination, and were consequently obliged to supply my place by some other mercenary retainer, whose poverty might consent to what his will might abhor. I nov.'," continued the prisoner, '^ commenced the independent gentleman; and, for the first time, began to think of entering into the amusements of the gay city: my finances had hitherto pre- vented my doing so ; and, excepting once when a benefit-ticket was made me a present of, i iiad never entered either of the theatres. I had heard and read of the temptations to which youths of my description were exposed, in this scene of gay amusement, but, regardless of all warning, I rusiied upon rhe danger, as if determined to prove its falary : alas, I proved its truth ! Hitherto I liad preserved a tolerable moral reputation, and my mind was unsullied by impure passions; but here I formed accjuaintance with depraved persons of both sexes, and the consequences can easier be imagiurd than described. With frugality, the in- terest of my five thousand pounds juight have THE FIRST OFFENCE. 6/ proved sufficient to procure me all the innocent graiificatiop.s oi" life; Lut iVngality and dissii);uion nre necessarily at variance, an^d I had soon the mortification of finding that principal, as well as interest, was insutTicient to support my expenses. In this dilemma, some of my gay friends advised me to have recourse to gaming; and for several years I lived the spoil of fortune, as it is called — sometimes rich, but oftener poor." " I wonder," observed Mrs. Placid, '' that thou didst not again resume thy writing employment?" " Indolence," returned the prisoner, " now reigned over me with absolute sway: it had ever been my besetting weikncss, and habits of vice tended to increase it. i slej)t away the greatest part of daylight; and in the shade of the evening resorted to a gaming-house, where several of us met to catch the unwary, who cor.ld be prevailed upon to engage in play. One evr-iing, enraged at my ill success, and quite penniless, I rushed forth, and con)mitted in the street my first rob- bery — taking from a gcntlomar. a purse which contained a few guineas." " And how did vou feel on this fust act oi dis- honesty:" asked the squire. "1 trembled every step I took in returning to my lodging,^ re})lied the culprit; *•' and was once on the point of run- ning back, in order to overtake the gentleman and return him the money; but lears of discovery im- pelled me forwards^ and the instant 1 entered my 6^3 THE CAUSE OF SUIOIDP.. apartment, I took a large draught of brnndy> threw inyselt' on my bed, and thus sought, by intoxication, to drown reflection." — " And how did you feel next day f" again questioned the squire. " Little short of desperation. Sir," re- plied the prisoner: " nay, I owe it to that religion l.then despised, that self-murder was not the re- sult of that evening's crime; for, notwithstanchng the enormities of my conduct, I had some per- suasion remaining of the truth of Scripture, and all the arguments I liad heard advanced against the tloetrine of future punishments were inelfec- tual to dissipate my fears on the subject: could they have been removed, 1 should certainly, at that period of my unhaj)py liie, have rushed un- bidden into the' presence of my Maker." '^ Yet,"^ observed Mrs. Placid, " I am informed, , that there are persons weak enough to suppose that the preacliing of this scriptural and awful doctrine luis f«MSt.c/ people to commit that very, crime from which thou wast happily preserved: a strange mode of reasoning, surtiy, to imagine a )nan disposed to prove the existence of an evil lie believes and fears." "And now, my kind and benevolent friends," resumed the n;ur:itor, " you will spare me the re- <;ital of crimes wliich would s!>ock your sensibility : . every step I took in vice weakened the sense of its enormity; and the almost miraculous escapes I experienced from public justice imboldcned me THE ROHKERY. GQ to proceed. The particulai-s of the robbery I committed in your house (addressing Mrs. Placid) you must but too well recollect." "I think/' replied the widow, *' thou wast the one that returned me part of my money." " I was so," said he; " and so greatly was I im- pressed by the short sentence you addressed to me, that had it not been tVom the fear of offend- ing my associate, 1 believe I should luive returned you tlie whole. We equally divided your money, and he soon after set off to Ireland, while 1 re- mained committing depredations in various parts of England, till the late fatal evening, when, mounted, as I supposed, on a swift-footed horse, I ventured to attack, on the highway, a gentleman and his servant; and, after taking a pocket-book containing bank-notes from the former, gallopped ""off in ihe lull conlidence of escaping. But Pro- vidence ordered oiherwise; mj' guilty career was now to end; my horse fell under me, and by that means the servant overlook me." *' Was ever any thing so unlucky!" exclaimed the squire. '' I wi>h, with all my soul, you had been mourned on my snre-fobted Cassar! I never knew him trip in my life. Over hedge, over gate, 'lis all one to Caesar. I warrant you was cheated by the horse-jockey: who did you buv him ofr"' " Air, Sir," replied the prisoner, *' I am justly confiemned every way ! for this hoisr, i>v whose fall. I lose my lii'e, was by myself stolen from a 70 INTEREST ABOViE. person near the very spot on which I was taken 1" *' Sure/' said INlr. Bustle, *' if you had hut have known, you might, with all the ease in the world, have broken open my stable, and taken Ctesar. But, I tell you what, you shan't be hanged — 1 say you shan't be hanged." " Thou art speaking very unadvisedly, neigh- bour Bustle," observed Mrs. Placid: " how canst thou prevent the operation of justice?" — '^ Tlie man is sorry for what he has done, and will do so no more — and what further can justice want:'' re- plied the lenient-minded squire. " All, Sir," said the prisoner, " stern justice cannot be thus ap- peased ! nor would it be for the good of society, that it should. Accept, kind Sir, my heart-felt gratitude for your benevolent wishes; and may I hope for an interest in your prayers for the wel- fare of my soulr" — "Ask this good gentlewoman here for that," returned Mr. Bustle, averting his face to hide his brimful eyes :/'s//t; has the best interest above." "^All the interest we have above," said iNIrs. Placid, '* resides in our great jNlechator and all- prevailing Advocate: when he was upon earth, he condescended to sas5ages thy memory, uncommonly tenacious, will ea'^ily supply." Mrs. Placid smiled. "Thou comest; U})on me with great advantage,". said she; " for thou hast been long considering what I must an- .'uer immediately." — "Nay," replied the Friend,* " I don't wish to take advantage of thee in argu- ment : ponder my question well, and Icf mc have thy answer to-morrow." — " No," returned his fair r.ntagonist; "my reply to thy question is, I think, already obvious. Man in bis chUized, and man in his uncivilized, state, are two very different beinfjs. Neighbour Bustle belona;s to the first class; and, consequently, although his education was not a religions one, he yet partook of the common advantages enjoyed in a civilized Chris- tian country. Honour, generosity, humanity, the qualities which I think appear in his character, were doubtless held up to his admiration veiy early in life. They are, happily for society, po- pular virtues: thanks to ChriUicndty, which has taught tbem to nations, and individuals not Chris- tian. I said, our friend possessed virtues; but I believe, if thou recollectest aright, 1 did not use the term inherently : what he might have l)een, if born and educated amongst savages, 'tis impossi- ble to say; and 1 suppose, when the depravity of human nature is asserted, it is meant in the ab- 88 MRS. FRIENDLY. stract: its features are then shocking to behold; but, tlianks be to God, the restraints of Provi- dence cast a veil over its deformities." — " Inso- much," remarked Mr. Friendly, *'as to make some doubt the reality of its existence. Thou hast re- plied tolerably well, and I comprehend thy mean- ing." This was the greatest concession Mr. Friend- ly ever aiTordcd in argument with the widow Placid. Possibly, some of our readers may wish to be introduced to Mr. Friendly's wife; and may ima- gine that she must be profoundly wise, or Mr. Friendly would not have chosen her. But whe- ther that gentleman deemed the good qualities of the licart preferable to brilliancy of intellect, and esteemed piety more than genius; or whether (as it was whispered was the case) he chose to possess the superiority in every point of view over his partner tin life, we will not determine; but so it was, that her virtues, though truly estimable, were of that nature as to attract little admiration, and her conversation, at no period of her life, could afford much instruction or entertainment. Mrs. Placid loved her for her goodness, and visited her chiefly for the benevolent purpose of consoling her under her great affliction; but as the readers can have no such motive for entering her cham- ber, we will spare them the painful task of attend- ing the bed of sickness, and hearing the sighs of anguish. 89 CHAP. vrr. Mr. and Mrs. Bustle visit the widow and Mr,. Frietidly. All parties not of the same opinion. They adjourn to a meeting-house. The squire's behaviour there. The preacher's subject, and Mr. Bustle's criticism. An unexpected event calls Mr. and Mn. Bustle from home. A re- quest made, in consequence, to Mrs. Placid. The squire proves the strength of his good resolutions in a parti/ of his old acquaintances.. Mrs. Placid had requested her friends to par- take of the refreshment of tea ivith her at Mr. Friendly's, previous to their attendance at meet- ing:, and Mrs. Bustle had encjaaied to do so; but when the squire heard it, he demurred, as usual, on account of old Prim, as lie still persisted in calling the amiable master of the house. Mrs. Bustle, however, had generally the happy art of persuasion, and s!)e succeeded, on the present oc- casion, in overruling her husband's objections. Mr. Friendly gav(j' his attendance at the tea- table, and entered into conversation of a geogra- phical nature; during which the squire remarketl,. that England was the best country in the world, 1 2. 90 HAPPY ENGLAND. and the county in which they resided the pleasanlest part of it. The Friend agreed with hirrt in his opinion on the first part of his observation, and expatiated largely on thfe excellencies of its go- vernment, its laws, and, above all, religious privi- leges; but he dissented from the last — " For," said he, "our prospects are not extensive, nor suf- ficiently diversified with hill and dale, woods and water, to render it (at least in my opinion) the pleasantest county in England; and I am rather surprised at thy opinion, if thou hast travelled through it." — " Fm not much of a traveller," re- turned the squire; not considering, that by this acknowledgment he betrayed the secret, that he sometimes talked of what he did not understand. Mr. Friendly however, though doubtless the mis- take did not escape his observation, at all times penetrating, let it pass, and only replied — " I have travelled but little myself, and therefore, as my information on this subject is derived chicfiy from books, I am cautious how I advance any thing positivch/ thereon." Mr. Bustle did not choose to yield up the argu- ment entirely. " Well," said he, ''if it is not the pleasantest county, FU venture to say there is not a better in England fov sporting.^' Ah, unlucky word! for npvv both Mr. Friendly and the widow opened on the subject of hunting and shooting, and pressed the poor squire so closely, that, like iiis worried bares and foxes, lie SPORTING CENSURED, Ql could make no retreat. He doubled and doubled, then met his antagonists at every turning, while Mrs. Bustle sat by in silence, approving all that was advanced against her husband; yet, like a good and prudeut wife, declining any part in the opposition. At length Mrs. Placid observed it was time to depart for the place to which they were going; and Mr. Bustle started up in an instant, saying — he was ready: possibly, well pleased at the ex- pected covert the walls of the meeting would afford him. He led tlie way. IMrs. Bustle ex- pressed her anxious wishes to Mrs. Placid that her husband might give tlie preacher a candid hear- ing, and that he would say nothing that might be reasonabl}^ objected to. *' 1 make no (ioubt," re- turned Mrs. Placid, '' but his discourse will be agreeable to. Scripture; and I hope thou hast not forgotten to ask for a blessing on the words which may be spoken : this is what we should always do for ourselves and friends." Mrs. Bustle said she had not omitted to do so. " Then," replied the widow, " thou hast done all in thy power: make thyself easy." A man of rather genteel appearance accosted Mr. Bustle, and engaged him in conversation for a few minutes, while the ladies walked on. When the squire overtook ihem, Mrs. Bustle asked if that was not the strolling player who, with his company, acted in their barn a few years back? 92 THE STROLLING PLAYEK. Tiie squire answered in the affirmative; adding, that he wanted to act there again. *' I hope," said Mrs, Uustle, " you refused him." — " But I did not," returned tlie squire. " Dear, Mr. Bustle," resumed his lady, " I wonder at you ! Don't you recojlect how idle it made the poor people; and how much they were inconvenienced by spending their money in going? Why you said, at the time, it should never be so again." — " The poor fellow begged hard," replied the squire, '' so I could not refuse." — " I wish you had consulted me" re- joined INIrs. Bustle. *'Pho!" returned lier hus- band ; '' there was only you and one more came over in iJirte ships." Now the above reflection, sarcasm, or wliatever the reader pleases to call it, was never addressed to Mrs. Bustle by her husband but when he was ia his worst humour ; and it always operated as a hint that it was most prudent to drop tlie subject of debate. But Mrs. Placid, who was not ap- prised of iis full import, ventured to second h.cr objections to encourage strolling players^. She advanced a few reasons, but was soon silenced also by the squire, who said, in a. high tone of voice — *M\'ell, then," you should have taken pos- session of the barn yourself: you know 1 oll'ered it to you." Bcio-re Mrs. riacid could form a suitable reply, they arrived at tl;e meeting. They were earlier lliaii they supposed, and very few persons we?e THE MEETING. 95 ;issembled. Silence, of course, prevailed ; but was sometimes interrupted by deep sighs uttered by an elderly femide, who sat in the aisle near the seat where Mr. Bustle and his friends were placed. He looked about, to see from whence they pro- ceeded ; and at length, grown impatient by the frequent recurrence of so unpleasant a sound, he uttered a deep groan himself, which vibrated through the building, and was designed as a re- proof to the sighing female. A crimson hue spread itself over the face of Mrs. Bustle; Mrs. Placid too looked grave ; and the young ladies seemed not to know what to make of it. All parties were soon relieved by the entrance of the minister; for Mr. Bustle's attention seemed now fully engrossed by watching his looks and beha- viour. The service began with singing, and the squire, being fond of singing, joined, apparently well pleased. He discovered no mark of restless- ness, neither, during the prayer which followed; and seemed to seat himself in a proper frame of mind to attend to the discourse, the text for which was — '* The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." The minister was well known to the squire, for he rented a small farm of him, and lived with his family upon the moderate profits he derived from it. His education had not been of an enlarged nature, and his information, excepting on divine 94 THE souir-e's retreat. subjects, was very circumscribed ; but his talents were well adapted to his congregation; and if his style was not calculated to phase the ear of refine- ment, it was equally removed from' every species of vulgarity liable to disgust. As he always fol- lotved the obvious meanings of the texts he chose, l.e, of course, began his sermon with pointing out the universality of sin : thi^ he did very briefly, observing, there was no occasion to spend time in proving what every body acknowledged every time they said ilieir prayers in their parish church. ''But then," added he, "the question is, Have you felt the desert of your shis? Well, if you have not already, 'tis high time you should; and this leads me to what the apostle says in ray text. Let ns consider his words." The preacher then en- larged on his subject, in plain and faithful terms; and was just got to the conclusion of the first •head of h^^ discourse, and entering upon the last, wlipn fhc sojiiic readied down his hat, and, with- out taking ilie least notice of his intention to the ladies, walked out of the meeting, lie ste})ped briskU' on, the nearest path to liis habitation, whltih he iiad almost reached, when he as nimbly walked back again, recollecting that the fields were lonels', and possibly darkness might over- lake his wife and daughter before their retui^n. He would not, however, venture to knock at Mr. Friendly's door, but sautitered about at a small distance, till he saw the ladies enter. Possibly, Till! EFFECT OF CONSCIENCR. Qi lie icared some pointed interrogatories from that gentleman respecting his leaving the meeting, and was not furnished with suitable answers. iNJrs. Bustle expressed her surprise at her hus- band's conduct, and hoped that it was not occa- sioned by indisposition. The absence of Mr. Friendly seemed to inspire Mr. B. with courage to avow freely his opinions. " I was never better in my life," said he; " but do you think I would stay to be talked to by Harry T,, my own tenant? [ could have taken it vcrv well from a resular-bred parson belonging to the church ; but they know good manners better than to run on in that plain downright way he did." — " Dear, Mr. Bustle !" ex- claimed Mrs. Bustle, " how could you suppose the minister was addressing you in particular? I dare sa}^ you were not in his thoughts the whole time," " You must not tell me that," rejoined the squire: " I caught his eye several times; and I'm sure many things he said were meant for me. If he liad said the same things in private, 1 should not have cared, na}-, perhaps I might have thanked him for it; and that he might easily have done when he called to pay the rent." Then, appeal- ing to Mrs. Placid — " Was not this very ill beha- viour, and enough to try my patience f — " Un- doubtedly," replied she, " if the case was as- thou imaginest; but I am decidedly of thy wife's opi- nion, that the preacher was general, not particu- lar, in his censures ; and thy being offended^ 96 THE PKEACHER JUSTIFIED. proves that he possesses great jutlgiiient and know- Jedge of the human character, i am rejoiced to find that thine e^'es are opened, for this is the first step; nay, that great poet. Young, says — * To know ourselves diseased is half our cure.' Be persuaded to suppose tiiat the man meant no uncourteous behaviour, I entreat thee." — "■ Well," replied the squire, *' as you both think he did not, I'll think so too; but he made a dismal story of it, and 'twas that partly drove me out; and I should not have cared much for that, neither, if he had not brought chapter and verse to prove all he said: for you know we are all bound to believe the Bible." — ^' Really," resumed Mrs. Placid, '' thy comments are the most flattering a preacher could wish to hear. The beginning of his discourse was neces- sarily of an awful and melancholy nature ; but if thou hadst not so injudiciously taken thy de{)ar- ture, thou wouldest have been convinced he could console as well as alarm. He dwelt much longer on the latter clause of his text." — " Did he," said the squire: *' I wish now I had stayed." — " Well, then," returned his wife, " you can go again at any time." Mr. Bustle paused — '' I don't like meetings," said he. " I was resolved to out-groan that old woman in the corner." — " Thou wast resolved to act very indecorously," returned JSlrs. Placid. " Wliat, do you defend that sighing and groaning planr" hastily questioned the squire. *' By no' 2 l?KLiaiO,N NOT GLOOMY. 07 means," lelurned his fair friend : " I condemn it, and shall take occasion to speak of it to the poor woman in question. The practice which some of our ignorant and inconsiderate fellow Christians have adopted, of clothing their countenances in dejection, has given the enemies of piety a great advantage. Ours is not a gloomy religion, as some have imagined." — '^ True," rejoined the squire, " and that made me ridicule tlie groaner. I warrant she would not groan again in my hear- ing." — " 1 have never found," observed Mrs. Pla- cid, " that persons are so easily ridiculed out of their injudicious or evil habits, as they are rea- soned. The- poor woman, most probably, consi- ders th^e as an incorrigible reprobate, and is now, perhaps, sighing over thy sad condition in private. But surely thou hast too much sense and candour to suffer such a trifling circumstance to prejudice thee against meeting-houses : neither the preacher, nor his opinions, had any concern with her con- duct." •, The squire seemed quite at a loss how to reply; but observed, it was growing dark, and they had best return home. To this jNirs. Bustle assented; and they took leave of Mrs. Placid, under an en^- gagement to meet as often as possible during her short stay in the country'. The squire walked on in silence, which, on their arrival at heme, his wife remarked. " Aye," said he, " 1 have been thinking over what Harry T. said. I have a better PART 11. K 93 BAD NEWS. memory than you. I'll read over the chapter Avhere he took his text from. 1 wish he preached in the church: for I tell you what, I never will go to meetings. I did not like to rail against them hefore INlrs. Placid — it would not have been good manners, as she is a meetinger herself." As this was spoken in a resolute tone of voice, Mrs. Bustle judged it most prudent to defer the in- tended argument she meant to hold upon the sub- ject. The dissenting interest undoubtedly suffered from the circumstance of the squire's first attend^ ance being given in one of his worst humours.. He had been foiled in argument on his favourite topic, had been reproved by his wife when his judgment was convinced the reproof was deserved, and worried by the melancholy habit of an inju-- dicious neighbour: under all these circumstances, great allowances arc due, and we make no doubt will be exercised towards him by the candidi reader. The next day Mr. Bustle reeeived a letter from his married daughter, requesting the favour of a visit from her parents, and hinting that she la- boured under an indisposition which was thought of a dangerous nature. The squire would have flown immediately on the wings of affection, but as the distance was considerable, Mrs. Bustle re- quested a day or two to arrange her family ailairs. Some difficulty arose about taking JMiss Bustle, and leaving their house to servants. " -Aye," said THE FRIENDLY VISIT. 99 fthe s(iulre, " we want the widow's sister, Hesler. We laugh at tlicse sober single women, but ihcy are useful folks in a family." It was at length de- itermined that Miss Bustle should be left at home, and a request made to Mrs. Placid for permission for Rachel to spend a week with her, when, if his daughter vyas not very ill, the squire would return Wiih^ great an xietA', Mrs. Btisllq and her daugh- ter waited on the Friend with their petition. Mrs. Placid considered the matter for a considerable time; and ?.ir. Friendly, to whom by her looks and manner ske frequent!}^ appealed, maintained an inflexible silence. Rachel's inclinations, of course, were consulted ; and they operated so strongly in favour of the visit, that at length Mrs. Placid consented it should take place. Mrs. Bustle and the widow took an afl^eciionate leave of each othery vegvetting their unexpected separation, especially on such an occasion; from which the latter drew many useful reflections on the uncer- tainty of all human iift'airs, and the proi)rietv of laying schemes, not for time, but for eternity. The squire, too, did not omit taking ]ei»\e; though he said he hoped to take her by the hand again in a w'eek. The morning that Rachel set off to her new acquaintance's, her mother addressed her, at a considerable length, on the conduct she ought to pursue. " I hope," said she, '^ thou wilt conduct 100 THE sportsman's ANNIVERSARY. thyself properly^ or this visit will neither be' advan- tageous to Elizabeth Bustle nor thyself." Rachel attended in silence, then promised compliance with an air which seemed to say — How canst thou doubt it ? It so happened, that the day previous to tiiat fixed upon for the departure of tiie squire and Mrs. B.^ was an anniversary held by the sporting society of which our country gentleman was a member, and where, for the last thirty years, he had never failed to give his attendance. But;, under tlie present circumstances, Mrs. Bustle con- cluded, the custom would for once be dispensed with; and she congratulated herself on the occa- sion, for reasons which may easil}' be imagined. Surprise and chagrin were equally apparent in her countenance, when she beheld her husband's usual preparations for joining his gay and noisy compa- nions. He observed the effect, and remarked— " I doa'i wonder you should expect me to stay at home to-day: I intended it; but, on reflection, I will go, in order to show them 1 am more sober and raiional than I was last year. I have several things in my head to say to them: old Print's ob- servations were not lost upon me ; and 1 have not forgot a word of Harry T's." — "■ You will onl)', f fear," rejoined JN'lrs. B., " get yourself laughed at, and ridiculed." — " 1 don't know that," replied the squire: " 1 can but try. Our friend, the widow, 1 dare say, would advise me to go, widi such a GOOD RliSOLUTlONS. 101 good end in view." — " I rather think not/' re- sumed Mrs. B.; "I believe she would say, ' Keep oiu of temptation, and time your exhortations better; then you may take an opportunity of speaking to each of your friends in private:' and you should consider how you may be overpowered by their noisy opposition to your well-meant ar- guments." — " As for noise," rejoined the squire, " I can talk as loud as any of them. And as for your fears respecting temptation, this is not a time for me to fear that : the thoughts of my dear Nancy's situation will keep me sober." So say- ing, away went Mr. Bustle, only staying to as- sure his wife that he should return very early in the evening. Mrs. Bustle still feared the event; and the readers who have felt the inefficacy of good reso- lutions formed in their own strength will fear too. The gravity which sat upon his countenance, when he first joined his friends, was accounted for by Ills information of his daughter's ill-health ; but when he began his serious conversation, which he did rather abruptly, and not in the most judicious manner, all eyes gazed upon him for son)c time iu mule astonishment. At lengtli his old acquaim- ance. Justice Tipple, ventured to ask him hov/ long he had turned parson; and, using words of exclamation not proper for us to repeat, averred he had not heard so good a sermon since the days of his grannum. The squire took the banter tolerably well. — K 2 tO'2 TME CAUSE OF MELANCHOLY. '' Aye," said he, " you shall see I can practise as well as preach." The justice's eldest son, with an air of the most insolent nature, advised the squire to mount the rost)uin, as he called the table. This occasioned him to assume a countenance, which certainly contradicted his assertion, that he knew how to practise as well as preach the mild virtues of Christianit}'. His attention was happily in- stantly diverted from the young banterer to the observations the oldest man in the society, who, with an aspect of gravity equal to the squire's, thus addressed him — " My good friend, I am greatly concerned to find you have so suddenly taken up these notions: when once they enter a family or neighbourhood, peace and harmony are destroyed. But I make no doubt your melancholy views are occasioned by your present affliction on account of your daughter: when her health is recovered, we shall find you the same man again." — " I didn't know a syllable of her illness," answered the squire, " till yesterday; but, to say the truth, I have had mis-givings all my life; and, having lately fallen into company with some good Christians, 1 am convinced, by them, that there is reason for these misgivings, and that I must set about repentance and reformation immediately. 'Tis an awful thing, to reflect upon fifty-one years of worse than idle- ness." The squire spoke these few words with so much feeling and solemnity, that a party more de- praved than the present would have been awed to tilcnce. A good-humoured brother sportsman, BANTEK IRRESISTIBLE. 103 seated at his elbow, shook him heartily hythe hand — " Neiglibour Bustle/' said lie, " I'll bet all the foxes I run down next year that you'll get to heaven before an\' of us." Like the pious Mrs. IMacid, the squire, in his turn, experienced the irksome sensation of being compelled to hear the inisapplication of real or supposed wit: each per- son in co'n[)any having a sarcasm ready eithei* for hini>^elf or his ojiinions. The entrance of dinner relieved him from his painful situation; but, alas! he was now to prove the strengtli of his good resolutions. He was by no means an intemperate man, in the general ac- ceptation of the term; but to be temperate in drinking, particularly at the anniversary dinner, would have been deemed a breach of good-fellow- ship: yet we are not sure but that our worthy squire might have nobl}' broken though this un- happy custom, had he been fairly dealt with by his compartlons; but all united their utmost en- deavours to render his resolutions incii'ectual. They prevailed on him to relate a long story, containing the particulars of his first fox-hunt, which they knew he never told witliout frequent applications to the glass at his elbow; this they took care to replenish, while his whole attention was engrossed by his narrative, till reason tottered on her throne; and the reader will spare us the painful task of adding more than, that the squire was conveyed home at a late hour, he knew not how, to his kind and anxious partner. 104 CHAP. VIII. Particulars of a visit paid ly Rachel to Miss Bustle. The former goes zvhcre she ought not. The consequence of her iudiscretion. She meets lUHxpectecI/i/ zcitk an old acquaiutunce. He re- lates a long story. JVhi/ Rachel did not act np to the conviction of her xccll-informtd judgment. We pass over the scene between Mr. and Mrs. Bustle the morning following the anniversary din- ner; not because it would be disgraceful to either party, (for the deepest penitence was manifest on one side, and the kindest forbearance on the other,) but we are in haste to accompany Rachel on her visit to Miss Bustle, as we suspect our' juvenile readers think it long since they heard any thing of these two ladies. Possibly, they may not have discovered the smallest similarity betweeti the character of the gentle Rachel and the boisterous squire: yet there was a similarity in one respect ; fur liie former set off' to her new acquaintance's in the same frame of mind which the'latter had done to join his old ones, namely, a full confidence in her own judgment and discre- tion. She planned ujany excellent obscivatioos THE MAID- SERVANT, 105 she intended lo make, and anticipated the applause slie should receive from her mother^ on her return, lor tlie propriety of her conduct. Miss Bustle received her friend with great plea- sure. She arrived just after the departure of her fatlier and mother. The hour previous to dinner was spent in strolling about the garden; and the hour after, in looking over some geographical puzzles, in which Rachel had an opportunity of displaying her superior knowledge. After tea. Miss Bustle asked her friend if she had any ob- jection to the maid's sitting with them; adding, that she was very good company, and kncv so mai-ry droll stories, that she was sure she would be much pleased. Rachel remarked, that was rather surprising; for, in general, servant-maids were ignorant : and she must confess, she had not been used to their society. " You should not be proud," replied Miss B. " Certainly not," re- turned Rachel; and to convince Miss Bustle that she was not disposed to be so, she consented to admit tlie person in question. Now we have nothing to say against Mr. Bus- tle's female servant, as respecting her morals or general conduct; yet she was still Sally the maid: and it was not reasonable to suppose these two young ladies could derive benefit from her com- pany. Yet Sally was a great reader, and pos- sessed an excellent memory: but then, zchot did she read; and what was her memory exercised 106 EACllEL OVERCOME. upon? Excepting a few religious tracts wliich her late and present mistress had furnished her with, but which, unhappily, she suffered to remain un- perused, iier lihrary consisted of the "Mysterious Oracle/' " Tom Grin's Merry Jester/' anrl the " Universal Songster /' and her memory was so amply stored with the contents of these three vo- lumes, as to entitle her^ in her young mistress's opinion, to that distinguished appellation — a most agreeable companion. The gravity of llachel at first somewhat intimidated the loquacious Sally; but as she stole a sideway glance, and observed DO marks of disapprobation in her countenance, she gained courage. And Eachel exhibited no marks of disapprobation because she feared to incur t'.ie censure o^ pride. After Sally had shone forth for some time alone in her attempts to please. Miss Bustle proposed that their, united talents should be displayed in solving riddles. Rachel's extreme duhuss at these (to her novel) perplexities, occasioned no small amusement to her compa- nions. The amusement was enjoyed only by themselves: Racliel thought that, pursued to such an extreme, it was a very siiiy one; yet, dreading to be thought ill-tempered, hhe kept her opinion secret, and made no-elfort to divert the current of entertainment. Upon the whole, the young visitor was not sorry when the hour of retirement arrived. But; when she, as was her usual custom, recommcuded 4 THE PLAY-BILL, 107 by her motliei', reflected on the occunences of the day, slie iclt dissatisfied with herself. Not a single word of all that wisdoai she had studied had been advaflced"; 6'n'th'c contrary, she had joined too- rccidily in frivolities her good sense taught her to dislike. The following morning, slie found ISJiss B. perusing, at the breakfast tabic, the contents of a ■ play-bill, just delivered by the strolling-player al- ready mentioned. Her eyes sparkled with delight, as she informed Rachel that Romeo and Juliet Avas to be performed the next evening, in her fa- ther's barn; adding — '' We must go." — "We are not obliged to go," observed Rachel. " I th.ink thou art best away from such places; and as for myself, I must not go without my mother's per- mission, and I am certain I should never gain that, to frequent a playhouse of any description." Miss Bustle's countenance fell as she heard this intelligence ; and Sally, who was standing by, observed. If Miss's mamma was so formal and precise as to disapprove of her going to a play for once, it might easily be kept a secret from her: she would be sure not to meet hej' there. Rachel, however, still [)ersisted in her refusal; at which her new acquaintance was so vexed, that she remained sad an'e of her inde- cision. She conjured her, by every endearing consideration she could devise, to part with her scruples, till the naturally yielding spirit of Rachel was subdued, and she engaged, in this otic instance, , to act against her better judgment. Once more the hour of retirement brought re- flection ; and she resolved to plead an excuse for a breach of promise, by nicntioning the impedi- ment her dress would prove to the excursion, which had not struck either of the young ladies l)cfore. Unfortunately, this obstacle was men- tioned in the hearing of Sally, who instantly ob- viated the difliculty, by remarking, that her young mistress and her were exactly of a size, aiul there- fore she might borrow a complete suit of apparel for the occasion. Miss Bustle seemed in cxtasy at the idea or new modelling Rachel's appearance; and she her- self could not help smiling at the tlioughts of how she should look. She consented to be dresoed bs ' PAPvT II. 1- 110 THE VILLAGE TTIEATRE. Miss Bustle, assisted by Sally, i\m] was then led to a large glass, thai she might have the best op- portunity for a complete survey. And now, were we not fully assured of the candour of our readers, we would throw aside the pen, and cast in the dark shade of oblivion the scene which followed : for truth obliges us to say, that Rachel was tinc- tured wit'n vanity, and that the sigiit of her own person, at all times agreeable, now for the first time indebted to ornament for attraction, excited the (Umgerous passion in no small degree. She looked, and looked again; and each look lessened her reluctance to appearing thus charmingly at- tired in the village theatre. Miss Bustle and her favourite domestic were not backward in addint; fresh fuel to the flames they had enkiiulled ; and, to be brief, (for we desire not to dwell upon Ra- chel's weaknesses,) she set off, at the proper hour, to the gay scene of rustic amusement. The company assembled were of course strangers to our young friend, and she felt no anxious fears of discovery. Her principal attention was en- grossed by the actors, and she waited impatiently to hear those sentiments she expected from the celebrated Shakcspear; but just as the first act was over, she chanced to turn round her face, and caught a glimpse of one of all others, except her mother's, she would most gladly have avoided. This was no other than the gay captain, whose gallantry, or rather impertinence, had so much THE CAPTAIN. HI (Cajbarrassed her during tlie dny's journey they had taken together. She whispered the intelli- gence to Miss Busile, at the same time drawing her bonnet over her lace, and begging her young fiicnd to Inde her as mueh as possjible, and by no means to look behind her. Miss H. ibllowcd her injunc^^^ions for some time, and suffered the captain's voice, vociferating En- core! Bravo! 8cc. to engage every one's attention, v iihout deigning him a single look. But, unfor- tunately, this affected apathy attracted his notice, and, of course, curiosity: he strided over the few benches which separated them, and peeping under the bonnet of the disguised fair one, exclaimed — " What, my charming yea and nay !" The crimson hue which overspread the counte* nance of Rachel soon gave place to a deathy paleness, and both the captain and Miss Bustle feared she would have fainted. The captain, who, with all his faults, possessed some share of good- humour, now, in polite and respectful terms, apo- logized for his abruptness, and ceased entirely from a raillery so painful. He informed Rachel that his aunt. Miss Finakin, was seated behind them — " For," said he, " nothing would do, but we must come in a chaise six miles to see these miserable wretches." Finding Rachel inflexibly silent and reserved, the spriglitly oflicer directed his attentions to Miss Bustle, iu\d had the •.^ali5faction to discover they 112 DIFFERENT SENTIMENTS. were perfect !y agreeable. As a gentleman had accompanied them, he was under no necessity of chaltiiiji" U'itli his aunt; but devoted the whole of his time to his new acquaintances. He took leave ol" ihem, he said, with the utmost regret; and hinted the supreme happiness it would afford him, if they would allow him to pay his respects the next day. jSliss Bustle only re[)lied, six njiles was too di-taiit to admit of vi'^iting, and the man of gallaiurY made a suitable answer. The young ladies parted from their gay ac- quaintance with very different sentiments; and wlicn they returned home, Miss Bustle could talk of nothing but the agreeable captain. " Thou ccuklesl not have thought him agreeable, liadst thou seen his behaviour in the journey ;" and then Rachel related the jiarticulars of that behaviour, already known to the reader. But Miss Bustle declared there was nothing amiss in any part of it. Their opinions upon the play they had just seen were equally dissimilar; for Miss Bustle could see no impropriety in the conduct of Juliet, while llachcl declared it was such as her mother and aunt Hester would have deemed highly improper. " What," said Miss Bustle, " you would have had her obey her father, and marry Paris!" — " No," answered Rachel; "but she should have wailed a little, and have endeavoured to persuade her father out of his unreasonable objections. Mj iiunt Hester has known several instances, in which THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 113 9. prudent coiicluct has been followed by success." *' Pho!" exclaimed IVJiss Bustle: " what does youi* nunt Hester know about love .' I dure say she never was in love in her lile." — " [ don't know," resumed Rachel, "' whether she has or not, tor she's very reserved on that topic; but she knows what's proper on ali occa-^ions; and I'm sure she would not only have blamed Juliet's hasty mar- riage, but her ha^ty choice too. And as for Ro- meo, 1 dislike hiai for his inconstancy to Rosaline. I suppose Juliet did not knov*' that, or to be sure she never couitl have piaced any confidence in his uttaclmicnt." Having thus delivered her free opinion on the licro and heroi'ie of ihe piece, Rachel closed her criticism, by remarkiiig- that she saw no moral in the piay, and wa-: much disappointed in lier e.\- pcctations from the talents of the writer. Possibly, had her niother been present, she 'might liave made some attempt to clear the author's reputa- tion, or at least have condemned so hastv a cen- stn-e; but Miss Bustle was well content to cmi3* the subject, and again reverted to the cantnin's agreeable person and conversation, expressif-g her hopes that he would visit them in a day or two. ** I am surprised," returned Rachel, " that thou shouldest entertain such a wish; and should be very sorry to see him here, especially in the ab- sence of thy father and mother: it would be very improper to encourarxe iiis vis-its." — " Pp! " ••> 114 EXPECTATION. turned her friend, " you are so f'onnal and precise, that if you continue so, you'll never be married." Rachel said she did not wish to he formal and precise ; hut whether she dreaded the conse- quences or not, she chose to keep a secret. Rachel resumed her plain attire the following morning, with regret that she had for a few hours laid it aside; and with many apprehensions of the event of the last evening's adventure, she joined Miss Bustle at the breakfast table. " Fine wea- ther," observed the young lady, as she poured out her tea, "for the captain, if he chooses to come. I wonder if he has a horse at command." — " I hope not," replied Rachel. A long conversation followed ; hut though many sage reniarks drop[)ed from tlie fair friend, we fear tlie recital might prove tedious, as they were not sufficiently argumentative to make any impression on the mind of Miss Bustle. Rachel's fears, and Miss Bustle's hopes, began lo decline, when the dinner hour passed over, and no captain appeareil; but siiil each, actuated by their different feeling?i kept tlieir eyes continually (uii)ing towards the window. Rachel, who was rather near-sighted, announcing there was some- tiitng like a man on horseback at a considerable distance, and, almost breathless, appealed to Miss Bustle, v.ho, starting from her seat, exclaimed — " 'J"is Romeo himself! just so he looked last night." — "Dear!" rejoined Rachel, *Miow thou THE VISIT. 1 15 hnst relieved my inind : I really feared it was the cajjtain." — "And who should it be but liiinr" re- plied Miss Bustle. "I tliought thou didst mean the player," said Rachel, now gazing again tiil the dreaded figure approached so near tliat she could hope no longer — it was indeed the captain. Auc] now, for the gratification of those who love to read fine speeches, we wish we could dojusiice to those made by the gallant officer; but they re- ceived so much advantage from the air and man- ner with which they were delivered, that imjIcss we could minutely pourtray that air and mnnnei-, they would lose all their point by a shnple narra- tion. He acquainted the ladies, that he should have paid his devoirs in the morning, but i'or an accident which had befallen his aunt, Miss Finn- kin — " VkHiich," said he, " if I can relate without exj)iring with laughter, I will." Miss Bustle entreated that the attempt might be made; while Rachel's features were settled into a frigid apalliy, which seemed to forebode no ■ union in the expected merriment. " My charming girls," said t!ie captain, begin- ning his narrative, " you must know, my wise nurit is completely out of her element now we are in the country; yet we are forced to stay j^jere a icw weeks, to oblige a distant relation we are visit- ing, as a matter of form. By way of amusing herself, and passing away an hour or two in the morning, she has taken it into her head to mount Il6 THE FROLIC. a frisky poney, and fly about the lanes ia all direclions, at the expense of her neck. I of course must be her cicisbeo. I have been tired to death of my office, as 3'ou may well suppose; but this morning, all impatience to again behold your lovely faces, 1 was resolved my lovely aunt should suffer for her frolics, and bid adieu to tliis troublesome recreation. So, prancing behind the heels of her poney^ I gave him a sly whip, and set him off at tl;e fullest speed liis short legs would allow, while I trotted after my screaming aunt, and, by so doing, rendered all her endea- vours to curb him ineffectual. In this manner we prcceeded for some time, when suddenly (heels over head) pop went aunty into a ditch, and away scampered her ponoy, glad, no doubt, to get rid of hi^- burden." Here the captain paused, in order to vent tiiat fit of laughter lie had given the ladies reason to expect. ISliss Bustle laughed too; but not so Rachel: she protested t!,e roiiduct was inexcus- able on the part of the nephew, and expressed an anxiety respecting tlie aunt. As soon as he was sufiiciently recovered, he proceeded. *' The beast was not b.igh enough from the ground to occasion much damage from a turn over; however, 1 was n little alarmed; and I do assure you I did not expect or v^ibh the present conscqiu r.ces of I he gallop; but merely designed my fidgeting aunt to experience fatigue from the THE MlbfORTUNE. 117 speed and length of her jaunt. I stopped mr liorse, and hastened to her assistanee ; and had ?oon the satisfaction of finding that a sliglit bruise, and an immense quantity of dirt heaped on her clothes and face, was the only injury: We en- tered a cottage close hy, and as my aunt stood lamenting — * Bless you, Ma'am/ said the old wo- man, who busied herself in wiping her clothes, * don't fret so : 'twas a n^ercy your bones wi"isn't hroke. I'll get some water in a. minute, to wash your face and hands: 'twas a mercy, truly, that you have escaped so well.' — ' Don't preach to me about mercy!' exclaimed poor aunt, ' Have you got a gla^s in your house? What, is my face all over dirt?' Our kind hostess, who deserved better language, instantly reached one down, which hung over her fire-place, and aunt looked into a space just large enough to admit her black visage. She let it fall from her hand, and sunk into an old elbow chair close by. The woman looked amazed ; so should 1 too, had 1 not recollected the sworn enmity which subsisted between aunt Finakin's face and soap and water. The woman left us for the purpose of procuring those Piccessary articles, and with an air whicli seemed to say — VVliat a rant is here about a dirty face! While J, diverted by the joke, out of all commaml of myself, capered about, crying — 'Oh the miseries of a painted facel' Aunt, in a violent pet, dispatched me off in quest af a chaise to conduct lier safely back again, while 1 18 TAKING LEAVE. she cleansed her phiz from dirt, pearl-powder, aiul rousre. But when I returned with the chaise, 1 . was not permitted to accompany her, thongh I made tweniy apologies, and, like a good hoy, promised never to do so again. She whisked in, (her handkerchief covering all the blemishes of her countenance,) drew up the glasses, and bid me see her no more." " Dear!" said Rachel, ^'^ how canst thou langh at all this ? Thou hast, perhaps, so disobliged thy aunt, by tliy ili-beiiaviour, that she may never be reconciled." — " JSo iear of that," rejoined the captain; *' s!ie can't Jive without me: but enough of my fidgeting aunt." Their gay companion then proceeded to relate other frolicson\e achievements of his own or his friends, interspersed with an account of various scenes presented in the fashionable world, entirely new to his auditors. He took, leave at a late hour; and received permission from Miss Bustle to call again, while he continued in her part of the country. Rachel gently remonstrated with her on the impropriety of her granting this permis- sion ; but, fearing to be thought ill-natured and precise, took no active measures to prevent what her better judgment led her to condenuu nn CHAP. IX. Sirs. Placid grealh/ alarmed by inteUigeuce re- ceived respecliiig her daughter. Mr. Friendh/s behaviour on this occasion, his conduct torcards a smart gentlemav , and his gallantri/ to a young lady. Squire Bustle returns home, and is sur- prised to hear of what happened during his ab~ sencc. He evinces that he knou-s lioic to he grate- ful. The sentence passed on the convict, unproved for the beneft of society* The week being nearly expired, which was to be devoted bv Rachel to her visit, Mrs. Placid be'i;aa to be surprised that, as the distance was so incon- siderable, she and JVliss Bustle had not called upon her; and, hke an anxiously afiectionate mother, entertained sonie a[)prehensions for her health. Just as she was preparing to make a personal inqiruy herself, an acquaintance entered Mr. Friendly 's parlour, and, after greeting that gen- tieman and the widow, said — '' I don't make in- quiries after thy daugiuer Rachel, for I saw her, about lialf an hour since, seated in the window of the Rose inr, in tiio village just by." 120 THii ALAItM. Mrs. Placid o;ized on her friend with no small emotion. " Mi/ danghUr" repeated slie, "sealed in the window of the Rose iiin! Surely thou must be mistaken r" — "ISo, no," replied the Friend; " [ know Raehei f^Iacid's faee too well for that: be- sides, I signified, by a motion of my head, as I rode b}', that I knew her, which she returned; and I supposed thou wast in the room with her." Mrs. Placid now evinced great uneasiness, and applied to Mr. Friendly for advice how to act; adding — '' I never knew Rachel guilty of any im- prudence; yet, for what purpose she can be seated at the window of an inn, I cannot imagine. Dost thou not think I had better go directly there my- self, and inquire into this mysterious affair ?" Mr. Friendly, after a pause, declared it to be his opinion that that investigation ought to he made, "i am loath," said he, "to reflect upon any part of thy conduct; (seeing it is generally so praiseworthy;) but I must own, I have blamed thee throughout in this affair: in the first instance, for suffering thy daughter to go at all upon a visit to so yoiing and inexperienced a neighbour; and in the next, not before this to have made somr inquiries respecting her conduct and employ- ment." — "That 1 frequently err in my judgment," replied Mrs. Placid, "I am feeliiigly convinced; and perha[)s 1 have done so on the present occa- sion: yet, as thy judgment and penetration is so much superior, 'tis a pity thou ehouklest ever 3 THE ROSE INN. 121 withhukl thy advice — a hint frora thee might have [)reventcd my imprudence." Whether Mr. Friendly wished to decline argu- ment, or whether he felt at a loss how to argue in favour of his lute reserve on a subject he wtis now so road}' to speak, we know not, for he only re- plied — " When an evil exists, 'tis wiser to endea- vour at an amendment, than to spend time in lamenting it; I will therefore, if thou thinkest proper, set off immediately to this inn, and in- quire: for I think, for two reasons, it will be more advisable for me to go than thou ; first, because it is more seemly for me to be seen in such places, and next, because I can walk faster than thyself." Mrs. Placid assented to tiie first reason assigned by her friend; but, with a smile, remarked, that she verilj' believed no time would be gained by the change of messengers — '^Unless," continued she, " thou wilt dispense with brushing thy hat, and hunting after thy stick." — " I see," replied the Friend, " the necessity of expedition in thii business, and therefore will dispense with my usual practice." So saying, he set off, and with hast\' strides soon gained the Rose inn, and asked if there was a young woman who, from her apj)earanoc, might be supposed to belong to his Society? 1 he land- lady said there was; and that she was accon>^oanied by a young lady and gentleman: Uien opening the door of a small room, she showed the gay captain, PART II. M 12^^ THE INTERVIEW. Miss Bustle, and Rache], partaking of a fine sylla- bub, just served up by order of the former. Mr. Friendly advanced, gazing at the group before hiin, who rose at liis appearance. The captain reaching him a chair, he sat down. " I ain surprised to see thee," said Rachei, with an embarrassed air. " I doubt not, thou art sur- prised," returned the Friend; " aud I should have been equally surprised at seeing the^ in this place, had I not been apprized of it. Bat my surprise is now only occasioned by the reasons which have induced thee to be here." Rachel held her peace, but directed her eye to Miss Bustle, who was on the point of answering for her, when the captain undertook the difficult task of replying. " Sir," said he, " I have been surprisingly fortunate in thus occasioning so much surprise. I was first surprised into an acquaint- ance with your fair friends, and then surprised them, in an afternoon's ramble, into this place, to partake of this most surprisingly excellent beve- rage, of which I hope you will partake also."— '* Th6u hast a fluent speech," replied Mr. iPriendlj, " and hast accounted entiiely to my satisfaction for thy appearance in this place with the young women; but thou must allow me to remark it is indecorous for them to be seen in thy company at such places, unless their parents were with them." — " Indecorous !" repeated the captain : "Sir, we have no such word in the fashionable THE CONFESSION. ^ I'ZSi vocabulary." — *' I am sorry for it," rejoined the Friend; "and, seeing thy errors proceed ^roui ig- norance, I shall be happy to inform thee in this particular." — " A course of lectures, 1 presume, Sir,'" replied the-^captain. "When and where shall 1 give attendance?" — " Such an kistitution," re- plied Mr. Friendly, " would not accord with our gciieral practice; but if tiiou wih call on me a? my house, I will gladly counsel thee on any sub- ject within the limits of my observation." The captain seemed at a loss how to understand hisjiew acquaintance, and whether be was in jest or earnest; and indeed it must be eonfesseii, per- sons of deeper penetration could nut always i'a- thom Mr. Friendly's meaning. He now turned to Rachel, and requested a word with her in pri- vate. They retired into an adjoining room, where Mr. Friendl}' inquired who this loquacious, gay- looking spark was, and how they became ac- quainted with him ? Rachel related the simple truth ; for the smallest prevarication had always been pointed out to her in its justly heinous co- lours. She regretted her own imprudence during the past four days, and lamented that she could not prevail on Miss Bustle to see the captain's visits in the same light with herself. "Thou art candid," observed Mr. Friendly; *' but 1 rather suppose thou hast not yet acquired that skill in argument for which thy muiiier is highly disiinguislied. And tiiou sliouldest liave 1'24 THE RETL'RN. been aware of this deficiency, and Lave apj)lied lo her for direction. But we will discuss this at another opportunity: I must consider what will now he the hest measures to pursue." After Mr. Friendly had paused for a few mi- nutes, he told Kachel he deemed it best that his house should be Miss Bustle's" home till the return of her father, as her extreme imprudence evinced fhe must not be left alone ; and he judged neigh- bour Placid would now object to her (Rachel's) continuance with her. " But," said he, " per- liaps it may not be advisable for me to malce^the propos il, as she may feel some reluctance to enter the dwelling of otie so grave as myself. Thou hadst best-desire her to walk back with us; i\m] then thy mother will, I make little doubt, be able to f^evail on her to abide with us." Rarhei highly approving the above proposal, they returned to the captain and his fair con^pa- nion. " 1 n)ust return this evening to my mother," said Rachel : " thou wilt have the goodness to accompany usf" — " Certainly," replied Miss Bus- tle; *' and 1 shall not suffer you to leave mc till my father returns." — " Thou shouldest never speak so peremptorily on any subject," observed Mr. Friendly. Then turning to the captain — "Thou wilt excuse our sudden departure." — " Sir," re- plied the gallant gentleman, " I can never exxuse your depriving me of two such ladies." — "Truly," returned the Friend, with a smile, " I cannot rea- THE PARTING. 12.> K)nably expecl tliee^ seeing the word decorum is not iu thy vocabulary." Mr. Friendly quitted the room for an instant, but quickly returned, as though he feared to trust his young friends alone with the captain, who employed the interim by whispering sonie- thing into the ear of Miss Bustle; while Rachel wondered what could occasion the departure of her friend, whose presence his lessons on decorum taught her to wish for. To prevent the readers from wondering also, we inform them that Mr. J"riendly slipped out in order to defray the ex- pense of the syllabub, which all the captain's entreaties could not prevail on him to taste. The parties separated at the door — the captaia remaining to do what Mr. iViendly had done for him. Whether Miss Kustle expected he would follow, we cannot determine;, but as she glanced an eye behind her occasionally, it attrar:ted the notice of the majestic person walking by her side, who drew her arm underneatli his own, and, f )r a better securit}', retained her hand likewise in his possession, his firm countenance seeming to de- clare — No one shall deprive you of my protec- tion. During the walk, he made some excellent observations on the circumspection young women ought to use in their general conduct; and parti- cularly the reserve they should niaintain towards the gay and dissipated of the male sex. " Had this young man," said he, " beefl one of our So- 125 THi; PRIVATE AUDIENCE. ciety, thou niightest have venlured to give him thy company: though indeed it is most probable, had he been one of them, he would have seen the impropriety of taking thee to such a place." iSJics Bustle heard him with some degree of im- patience, which might possibly arise from th.e conviction, that truth rested upon his side of the {Hguinent. Rachel said nothing, her anxiety being directed lo what she feared her mother might say, when informed of her imprudences. Arrived home, Mr. Friendly,^ in a private au- dience with the widow, related the stoiy of the captain; and suggested his plan for the preven- tion of any future intercourse between tliem, till this young lady's parents should be apprized of his visits. He proposed, also, to intrust a respect- able couple i;'. the village with the care of Mr, Bustle's house. To both these prudent measures Mis. Placid acceded, but found some difficiUtj' in prevailing upon the young lady to consent to the aTrangomcnt: the society of Mrs, Placid and Mr. Friendly being, in her estimation, no equivalent ■for the loss of the agfccabie captain's; and even that of Rachel herself seemed to lose by the compai ison. The earnestness, however, with which the request was urged by Mrs. IMacid, and the en- treaties of her friend, (who reminded her what sa- crifices sh.e had made to her wishes within the Irst week,) left her no room for opposition, and at lenjni) her consent wiis obtained. THE KKP-ROOP. 127 "It augurs well," said Mr. Friendly, "when a persuadable disposition is discoverable in 3'oiing women : the lesson oF obedience which must be learnt by them when they enter the married state, will more easily l;e acquired, ^nd thou wilt not sutler in any wise by thy present condescension; for thou wilt have an opportunity of engaging in ])roiitable discourse, and we have many instruc- tive and entertaining books at thy service. Thou wilt soon be convinced, that though we are grave in our deportment, and plain in our appearance, we are no strangers to that cheerfulness which, as one observes, ' both calms the breast, and makes the mind serene.' " JSIiss Bualie was soon convinced of the truth of the above assertion. Both Mr. Friendly and the widow exerted themselves to please and instruct her, till the day arrived that brought her father, agreeably to his intention. When Mrs. Placid was retired with her daugh- ter, she, in mild and affectionate terms, repre- sented to her the improprieties of her conduct; and desired her to reflect that the timely inteipo- sition of Providence was to be regarded as the means of preventing the most serious evils. " For," said she, " 1 am greatly afraid that wild and dis- sipated young soldier had some bad design on one or both of ye. Thou wast much to blame in not informing me, as soon as he introduced him- self." — " I should have done so," replied Rachel; 123 THE DTSAPPOIiNTMENT. " but Elizabeth Bustle would have thought merso ill-tempered and precise/' — ^' And of what conse- quence would Elizabeth Bustle's opinion have been, opposed to propriety?" asked Mrs. Placid. " We are never to seek the good opinion of others at the expense of integrity. I counsel thee always to please thy neighbour, if p>ossible, but never to yield to that weakness of mind, whlcb would injure rather than offend." The captain had whispered in the ear of Miss- Bustle, that he would certainly call upon her next day; but how great was his chagrin to meet an aged couple, instead of his charming Elizabeth. He obtained a private audience with Sally, wjio- informed him the particulars of the affair, as she Lad collected them from her companions. She ftdvised liim to pay her young mistress a visit at Mr. Friendly's, but the captain was averse to the proposal : probably, he feared to encounter the lecture that gentleman had threatened him with. Doubtless prudent sagacious readers have enter- tained some fears on the young ladies' accouat, and have formed opinions derogatory to the cap-" tain's honour. Their fear being now removed, v>e will, injustice to the captain, explain the sole motives for his frequent visits. Like his aunt, he was also at a loss for amusement; and he found the society of the sprightly Miss Bustle, and the demure Rachel, very entertaining. They were, to him, novel characters; and he knew they would THE squire's RETUKxV. J 29 furnish him with man}' anecdotes to relate to his fashionable friends, on his return to town. His vanity too was gratified at being so well received by the squire's daughter. And, added to all this, his situation had been, for the last tlirce days, ex- tremely irksome at the house of his relation; for his aunt would not forgive his late frolic, nor admit him into her presence, so that he was forced to absent himself the greatest part of the day. But what said Squire Bustle, when he returned home, and received from the lips of Mrs. Placid the {)articulars of all these events? He asked im- mediatel}', where was Mr. Friendly? and the v;i- dow summoned him to appear. As he entered, the squire started from his seat, sprang forward, seized him by the liand, and attempted to speak, but his agitated feelings made his sentence unin- telligible. Mr. Friendly, however, understood his looks and gestures. '^ Compose thyself," said he: *' 1 am happy in having rendered thee this ser- vice." M r. Bustle, a little recovered, exclaimed — "A service, indeed! You have saved my girl from ruin, for augiit 1 know; and I diil not deserve it at your hands, fur I have laughed at you, and called you names, behind your back." — *' Nay," observed Mr. Friendly, " that was very unseemly on thy part; but it would have been much more so on mine, had I harboured any reseiitmcnt ou the occasion, if informed of thy words; which, however, I was not." 130 THE APOLOGY. The squire now began to vent his rage on the captain ; but Mrs. Placid begged hiai not to form a hasty conclusion — '* Very possibly his intentions Avere lionourable." — " He shall never have my daughter/' replied the squire^ at the same instant sighing dee|>ly. " One rake ia a family/' added he, " is enough." Mrs. Placid hinted her wish, if not imperti- nentj to be informed the state of his daughter he had just visited. "When my spirits are equal to the task/' replied Mr. 13., " you shall hear all about her, dear soul !" clasping his hands together, and looking upwards in a manner which greatly excited the sympathy of his two friends. Mr. Bustle next obtained a private audience with his daughter. At INlrs. PJacid's request, he forebore invective, and only, in mild though strong language, forbid her ever holding any i'urther in- tercourse with this, as he imagined, dangerou* captain. The young lady paid a dutiful attention to his conversation, and protested she meant no barm in all she had done in the affair. The squire believed her declaration ; and we expect from the candid reader the same degree of cre- dence. Prudence, however, dictated to Mr. Bus- tle the propriety of sending her the next day, in company with a trusty acquaintance, to her mo- ther; where, under her safe protection, we take a final leave, having nothing more to rekite of Miss Bustle worthy attention. 4 THE CUI.PRll's FATK. 131 Mr. Bustle's next care was to make inquiries respecting the prisoner, on whose account, chiefly, he had hurried home. Great was his mortifica- tion at finding that no flaw could be found in his indictment, nor any means used for his preserva- tion. The awful sentence had been pronounced ; the culprit had been left for execution; and no hopes of life remained. ]\ir. Friendly visited him every day; but the widow declined, as the prisoner requested she would spare her amiable sensibility a task so painful. The squiie made several attempts, but never more gained the melancholy spot. The worthy chaplain constantly attended him, and de- clared his hope that his penitence was sincere, and, consequently, his salvation certain. Previous to his execution, he drew up a brief narrative of his life and feelings on various occasions; committing it in charge to the minister, to iise'it as he thougiit proper. As it represented, in a striking point of view, the progress of vice in an criliglitcned and reflecting minJ, the minister was adviircd to pub- lish it at some future period, in the liope that it might operate on the minds of those who, possess- ing- superior talents to the generality, were dis- {)()sed to misapply them. The. writer consoled himself with the hope that his melancholy story would be thus improved; and that it might prove an antidote to those false sentiments he had once suffered to escape his pen. Awful consideration for the profane and immoral scribbler 1 his poison is received, but his antidote too often rejected; 132 PKOSTITUTliD TALENTS. -" For not the silver Tlmmes, Noi- Tiber, with liis yellow streams, In endless currents rolling to the main, Can e'er dilute the poison, or wash out the stain.'' IVIr, Bustle had several times repented of his hasty permission to the strolling players of occu- pying his barn ; and after hearing of the late events, he repented it still more. But his bene- volent disposition led him to make some compen- sation to the manager of the company for the disappointment and unnecessary expenses his own inconsideration had occasioned. He also gave him goo. CHAP. X. T/ie squire relates to Mrs. Placid the pariicidan of his laic visit. She offers a few reflections. The squire n turns home, and, in consequence of a sudden death, is put into a great liarrij. lie again zcails on a member of parliament, pays his compliments to a zcidozc'-lady and her son, transacts important business in a few hours, and takes leave of the widozo Placid, who condescends to grant him a favour. As the time drew near for the departure of Mrs, Placidj the squire expressed his concern, and nri^ed her to protract her stay a week or two, in which request Mr. Friendly united; but the wi- dow informed them, she never altered any plans she had formed, unless she was fully convinced there was a good reason, which she could not discover on tlie present occasion. " But / can see a good reason," s;iid the sq'dre: •'^your con- versation has been so profitable to me, that I can- not but v.ish for more of it; and, next to the company of my wife, -which 1 fear I shall not have for some weeks, there is not a [)er5on's in {[•.>:: world I desire so much as yours," The widov.- PART II. ^i 134 THE MOVRNTUL TALE. smiled at the compliment^ and Mr. Friendly re- plied — "The few days our friend hias longer to stay thou wilt do well to improve, by spending as much of ihy time as possible under my roof. I am now obliged to retire to transact some parti- cular business, and sliall expect to find thee in the same spot on my return." The squire engaged that he should not be dis- appointed; and now entered upon the particulars of his late visit, which he was as desirous of rehit- ing as Mrs. Placid was of hearing. "When we arrived at my daughter's," said he, " 1 was sur- prised at our being ushered into an empty room; and, instead of meeting her as usual, an elderly v.'oman came to us. ' Where is my Nancy ?' said I, while my heart strangely misgave me that mat- ters were worse than she had represented. And so indeed they were ; for the woman, who proved to be her nurse, soon informed us th.ut her mistress could only sit up a few hours at a time, and was now laid down, and, seeming to be in a sweet eleep, she l)ad not disturbed her to say we were arrived. This prudent precaution we commended her for; but so impatient was I to see her, that I stole behind the nurse into the bed-room. There I saw her, after an absence of eighteen months: but oh, my dear IVicnd ! how shall I describe my feelings when I first saw her!" " Don't make the attempt," replied Mrs. Pla- cid: " it is better not to dwell on such painful Tin: INFliCLlNG HUSBAND. 13S sensations. Thou didst see her iniicli allercdj I suppose:" "Altered, indeed!" replied the squire; "she n[>peiired only the shadow oF my daugliter; and the rosy hue of lieuhh which used to animate her countenance, was cxclianged for a death-like pale- ness. I dared not to trust myself a minute in the chamher, lest she should open her eyes, and he agitated hy a sudden discovery. I met my wife at the door, who was stealing in for the same pur- pose. I had just power to desire her to return helow, and there we gave full vent to our mutual sorrows. We inquired of a servant for her mas- ter, and were informed he was gone to spend a week or two with a friend. I expressed some sur- prise at his leaving his wife when so ill. ' Master says he's tired of a sick room,' was the answer I received. By this time the nurse again came to us, with the intelligence that her mistress was awake, and that she had announced onr arrival. Think now what a task I had again to ascend the stairs." " I can think," replied Mrs. Placid, applying her handkerchief to her eyes; " but I wish thou wouldest spare thyself, if the recital pains thee." " It seems to relieve my mind," replied Mr. Bustle. *' Well, somehow or other I did get once more into the room. She was then seated in an easy chair; and, instead of that paleness I saw before, I beheld what, if possible, shocked me 'I'jO THE BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. worse — a fixed hectic flush on botl) her cheeks, and all its attendant brightness si)arkling in her eyes. She tottered as she rose, and clasped her Inn^ thin arms round her mother's, neck. But I can't go on just in this part," added the squire. " So, after we had vented -our feelings a little on both sides, and talked over a few family matters, v.e pLiited for the night; and the next day my Nancy v»'as able -to enjoy our company, and seemed so much better, that I expressed my hope j)er case was not so dangerous as we imagined. ]No\v comes the part I particularly wished to tell you of. Oh how 1 wished lor you there to hear my Nancy talk! Would you believe it? she has, Yuuiig as she is, derived t!)at sort of consolation iVom religion which you described as having your- jsi.lf experienced under your great afflictions; and all by reading the Bible, good books, and hearing the minister of her church preacli every Sunday. Oh, 1 would read from moriiing till night, if that would make me so willing to die as my Nancy !" " Our wise and benevolent Creator," replied Mrs. Placid, " in his works of grace, as well as of vaturc, makes use of means to accomplish his gracious purposes. If thou art willing to use the same mciius which thy daughter has done, I will venture to say thnu wilt soon ex[)ericnce the same edcct. It seems, too, that 'tis the intention of tiiy heavenly Father to soften thy heart by afdic- tivc dis[)ensaiions. Thou hast had a long course THE widow's hope. 137 of prosperity ; and thou must allow tliat it lias not been improved by thee as it ought. Suffer not this chastising providence to pass unimproved. The poet says, ' When pain can't bless, heaven quits us in despair.'" "Oh," resumed the squire, "to hear my Nancy talk! When I reproached myself for the share I had in producing her unhappy marriage, she beoffed me to consider it as tb.e means of pro- ducing her everlasting good. 'J'iien she can for- liive her husband, too ! I wish 1 could forc;ive him; but I durst not trust myself with a sight of him, lest I sliall fall into a passion, and distress my daughter. He was expected home tlie day [ left his house. Mv wife knows how to talk with him better than I do, and she will stay with our dear child, and [ will go again when I think t can command my violent temper." The widow bestowed a look of compjacenc}' on the squire as he spoke — '' Really," said she, "every word thou sayest inspires me with fresh hopes of thy reformation. If thou canst say with sincerity that thou desirest that Christian grace, (a disposi- tion to forgive thy enemies,) it follows, of course, that thou wilt pray to have it imparted to thee. And thou knowcst who said — 'Ask, and ye shall receive.' And if thou art disj)Osed to avoid temp- tation, it argues thou dost possess a diffidence of thy own ability to encounter it. I would recoifi- mend thee to use the same precaution towards thy N 2 1S3 THE SUDDEN DEATH. gay acquaintances as thou dost towards thv son- in-law, and not unnecessarily join in iheii-^socicty, jest thou shouldest he ridiculed out of thy prest nt venous impressions." — '^ If'/' replied the squire^ " i didn't know you had no dealings wilh the cunning woman that lives down the lane yonder, I should «iay you had paid her a visit." — '^ I do not under- stand thee/' returned Mrs. Placid. " Nor do i mean you should/' rejoined the squire; but the reader, who recollects the anniversary dinner, will. The urgent business which occasioned Mr. TViendly's departure being no other than to [)ay ;■ visit to tl-.e market, in order to treat his guest wiili a better dinner than that usually provided, Ire soon returned. Beina; so much inaralialed iiito Mr. Bustle's esteem, by his late conduct to- wards bis daughler, his company was deemed an acquisition. The squire began to wonder at his former dislike of his society ; and every sentiment lie advanced was attended to with the^ear of par- tiality. The day passed off, enlivened by rational ci!:iversation; and as the squire returned home, lie mused on all which Mr. iM-iendly (no longer old I'rim) and his fair, friend had advanced, con- trastinsr in his mind the conversations he had been Jiccustomed to join in, Mr. Bustle received from his servant a piece of intelhgence \Yhicl. shocked him greatly — the sud- den death of his parish rector. After the first < iMotions of surprise and" concern were subsided. THE STUDF.NT RECOLLCCTED. 150 it naiurally occurred to liis mind, who was likely to succccil hiiuf and suddenly the young student, with whose company he had been so well pleased on his late journey^ presented [limself to his recol- lection. " i believe, in my conscience," thought the squire, '' that if 1 could procure this living for him, he would prove himself worthy of it. Aye, I remember how well he answered the widow about the church creeds and articles: she had not another v.ord to say for herself; and truly he must have some skill to silence jfier. Then he had a prayer-book in his pocket: I tJo verily believe he's a good churchman ! Mis mother, too, would doubtless be glad to liave him settled so near her. Well, if I don't try — What's to be done fust? The living's in the s:ift of our countv member: to be sure, 1 had bad luck in niy last visit. Weil, bad luck then, better next time.! I'll mount Caesar once more, and be with him to-morrow morning by his breakfast liour: no time must be lost, there will be plenty of parsons on the look out." Now had dispatch been unnecessary, the squire would not have been more tardy, for he always executed his purposes the instant they were formed; and though he had, throughout life, felt the inconvenience of too much haste, he obsti- nately persisted in the indulgence of his humour. V/e rather suppose that if Mrs. Bustle Juid been present, she would have suggested the propriety of calliiig first on the young collegian, to consult 140 A VISIT TO THE PATKON. his inclinations, and inquire into his prospects; and the possibility of his being already provided with suitable cinirch preferment might have oc- cnVred to her mind: but so it was, that the squire mounted Csssar, and set off to obtain patronage for one he did not even suspect would disregard it. As iie passed the well-recollected house where the young student had been ^et down, he saw his mother looking out of the window; and, gazing in her face with all the good humour his naturally good-humoured features could assume, he touched his hat, and left the lady to conjecture who he might be. " Bless me, James!" said she to her son, who entered the room one moment too late to catch, a glimpse of the stranger, " there's the pleasaniest looking man I ever saw rode by, and he looked just as if he was saying — ' I shall call as T come back.'" — '^ I should suppose him one of my college acquaintance," returned he, *' if any of us studious fellows could look pleasant." 'I'he squire arrived at Mr. Ws. just as himself and the ladies of his family were seated to the breakfast table, lie made an apology for his early appearance, which was readily accepted, and then dashed instantly upon the purport of his visit. " It is the first information 1 have received," said Mr. W., " of the death of Mr. -. I sympa- thize f»ith his family; but is my sympathy to ex- tend to his parishioners also?" — " He was good company," rcj)lied Mr. Bustle. *'But his preach- THE PROMISE. 141 ing?" resumed the gentleman. " You must not ask me about that/' rejoined the squire; " I'm no judge of preaching. I believe, though, it' we had littended to all he recommended, we should have been good sort of people." The -gentleman now made particular inquiries respecting the connexions and abilities of the person Mr. Bustle was so earnestly recommend- ing. He simply related all he knew; but it did not seem to satisfy the interrogator. " See liim yourself, Sir," said the squire. " Oidy tell me that you'll give liim the living, if you like him, and that's all I request." Mr. VV. readily acceded to this request, having, he assured the petitioner, no one particularly in his wish to present. *' That's well!" said the squire: "I'll hasten back, to in- form my young friend. When shall he wait on your" — " To-morrow morning, if agreeable," re- turned the gentleman. The squire arose directly, bowed to the ladies, and as Mr. ^\^. v.aited uooii him to the door — " Sir," said he, '"' do you mean to stand for the county next year? If n-ou do, I have my vote as before, and still more interest, at your command." By the time Mr. Bustle was returned to the Ijouse of th.e young student's widoued parent, he was ielircd to the neat study her consideration had fitted up for him, and where he spent most of his morning hours. The squire's loud knock at the door roused bis attention; but v.i^ihino to finish 142 A VISIT TO THE STUDENT. a shtet he was busily engaged in writing, he suf- fered his mother to receive the visitor. " Madam," said Mr. Bustle, after announcing his name to the lady, " I took the liberty of bowing to you as i passed an hour or two since, and 1 hope my errand will prove an excuse for my further liberty in calling." Now the squire's appearance had so much pre- possessed the lady in his ftwour, that all apologies were unnecessary. The reader may judge then of the favourable reception his intelligence gained. After expressing her surprise and gratitude for such an unexpected act of kindness, she hastened ^o her son, and boldly entering the study, which she never before had ventured to approach be- yond the door — " My dear James," said she, " that pleasant-looking gentleman is below: hasten down, ibr he has the pleasuntcst news imaginable for you." Curiosity added wings to his feet, and the stu- dent gained the j)arlour in an instant, followed by his molh.er. He recognized his travelling acquaint- ance, who shook him heartily by the hand, and said aside to the good lady standing by — "Aye, aye, he'll have no objection to a living of four hundred a-year. What say you?" turning to the youth. " I am not yet qualified to take one, Sir," he replied ; " not being yet ordained." — " By George!" exclaimed the squire, " I shouUl have thought about that : 1 don't know how that is to THE DIFFICULTY. 143 be managed." — " It may easily be contrived. Sir," observed the lady, " by placing a clergyman for so short a time in the living, till my son has re- ceived ordination." — " 1 have no interest, Sir," said the young man, " to procure such a living as you mention." — " But I may," returned the squire, who now related "the success oK his negociation; adding — " So you see it all rests with jourseli": put on your best behaviour to-morrow morning, and if you have a good character at the college, (which I warrant you have,) your fortune is made, and I'll come and hear you preach every Sunday." " 1 want words to express in\'^ sense of your kind- ness, Sir," returned the youth. " Never mind that," said Mr. Bustle, '' so long as you don't want words in the pulpit." *' Yon seem very confident, my dear Sir," re- sumed the youth, " that I shall succeed ; but I am not so confident: the gentleman w^ill doubtless inquire pretty minutely into my opinions, and, possibly, they may not coincide with iiis; iw\(\, if yo, most probably he will not present me." — " Tis the way, 1 suppose," replied the squire, " of all you scholars, to talk of possibilities and probabili- ties. I see no .probability in the business, that your opinions should differ from our member's: you are both ciiurchmcn,and have got one pravcr- book to go by, have you noir" — " Ah, Sir!" re- turned the scholar, " it does indeed appear sur- prising that persons, who profess to be guided by J44 GOSPEL MYSTERIES. one book^ slioiild difl'er so \Yidely in 0{)"mions !. Yet, in one point ol' view, it is not surprisin<^ ; for the tiLitlis cotilained in the prayer-book are so contrary to our depraved dispositions, that when they are enforced and apphcd faithfully by the minister, they necessarily offend." — ''Why," re- turned the squire, " there is some justness in your remark; I have myself felt uncomfortable while the prayers have been reading: and then there seem to be mysteries in it which I confess I do not understand, and I have often w^ished our late rector to explain them ; but he seldom held fortli !on;!,er than twenty minutes^ and just as one was got interested, the sermon was concluded. Do you think you shall be able to explain all these mysteries to such a plain simple Simon as I am?" — " Sir," replied the young preacher elect, '' to expUun the mysteries to which you allude, will periuips not be in my power. Those parti- culaily connected ulih the uork of our redemp- tion are represented as heights and depths which pass knowledge: in the investigation of them, the illiterate peasant and the enlightened philoso- pher aie upon an eciua! footing; we can do little more than lay the Scriptures in their plain and obvious meaning before you, and this, as minis- ters, we are bound to do candidly and faithfully." " So you are," said the squire; "and if we are offended 'tis very uineasonable: did you go about to invent a parcel of disagreeable doctrines and THE GRATEFUL TEAR. 145 preceptSj there would be some reason for our dis- pleasure. So my good lad give rae your hand ; and trust me, I'll never be aflVo;ited at any tiling you say, if you can bring chapter and verse to prove it." INlr, Bustle making towards the door, was de- sired by the lady to protract his visit. " I would, IMa'iim," said he, " but my horse is pawing at your gate, and will soon run off with it, if I don't make my appearance: like his master, he has his humours, and as he studies them sometimes, I think [ should return the compliment. But," added the squire, " when our friend here (looking at her son) is qualified to be chaplain, I hope we shall partake of many family dinners together." The squire mounted his spirited hunter, just in tiine to prevent the widow's gate sustaining an in- jury, and galloped off, followed, till he was out of sight, by her eyes, overfiouing with tears of grate- lul sensibility. It may be imagined, the adventure furnished conversation for herself and son the remainder of the day. But the parties entertained fewer anxie- ties about the event of the morrow than would liave been experienced by those less sincere, or less trustful in an over-ruling Providence. '' I iiave," remarked ihe collegian, " a plain track be- fore me: I have only to avow what I have solemnly subscribed." — *•' And tlien," added his mother, " whether the gentleman presents you this living PART II. 9 146 THE INTERESTING QUESTION. or not, you may rest assured a blessing will attend your integrity." We pass over the interview between the patron and the student, to attend the latter on a visit to Ml'. Bustle, the evening of the same day, in order to inform liim of the event. The scjuire, who was all impatience to know the result, set off about the same time for the student's residence — they con- sequently met on the way. " I was thinking," vociferated the kind-hearted INIr. B,, as soon as his voice could reach the ear of his young friend, '' that if you was polite and well-behaved, you would come along this evening; but I have been told we must not look for much of that from scho- lars, so I was resolved to make sure, by coming to you." By this time they met, and in a lower key the in- teresting question," Well, have you got the living ?" was proposed. The student smiled; but before he could reply, the squire remarked — " I don't de- pend on your cheerful looks; for I have known my son look as easy and as well pleased when he has been disappointed, as when he has been suc- cessful : and he used to argue that all philosophers were bound to do so." The student smiled again. ** Certainly," replied h(^, '' 'tis a branch of true philosophy to resign ourselves to destini/, as the heathen sages termed it; and 'tis the great privi- lesje enjoyed by Christian philosophers, to * sec a God employed in all the good and ill that THE SQi: ire's candour. 147 checkers life.'" — "So it is/' returned ilie squire. " But to tlie point — Have you got the living r' — " I told you. Sir/' replied the youth, " 1 was not yet qualified to take it, and Mr. W. is cautions in jiiaking promises; yet I !uivc evt-ry reason to hope, from his favourable reception of mo to-day, I shall prove successlul. After 1 am ordained, he will pcrnut me to preach, and honour me with liis at- tenchmce. lie has also given n)e a friendly invi- tation to Ids house." — " Then," said the squire, ''get some good sermons ready, and all will be well. Perhaps he is right in being so cautious: every boily don't like to do things oii'-hand, as I doV' Mr. Bustle now prevailed on his young friend to accompany him back and partake of an early £Uj)per. Their conversation was of a serious na- ture. Tiie squire, alw-ays of a comraunicative temper, felt unusually so on the present occasion: he I'reely related his faulty conduct at the anni- versary dinner, and asked the opinion of liis young counseilor with such an air of aflectionate candour, as delighted, while it surprised, him ^ and botii parties separated with increasing esteem for each other. The squire waited on Mrs. Placid, to relate what he had been doing, and received commen- dation for his active zeal on the occasion. " Yet," said she, " even this amiable quality should be managed with a prudent circumspection. I ac- 148 "rUE INVITATIOxV. knowledge_, from what we have heard drop from the young man on our short journey, we have reason to entertain a favourahle opinion of him; yet words are often deceitful : and it was a most important matter thou hadst in hand, when thou wast galloping off to recommend a new rector for thy parish." The widow ceased enlarging on the siihject ; probably, from the consideration that a hint to the wise is sufficient. She informed ihe squire that the following day was fixed for her depar- ture; and accompanied the unpleasant intelligence by an invitation to himself, his wife, and daugh- ter, to visit her whenever it might prove conve- nient and agreeable to themselves. " If," replied Mr. Bustle, " my present seriousness continues, which I pray most earnestly it may, we will ac- cept of your kind invitation; but if I relapse into my old ways, I shall be ashamed to look you in the face." — '* Continue thfit prayer," returned Mrs. Placid, " and tliy seriousness will not only abide hut increase: for to him that hath shall be given. The truly pious go on from strength to strength, from one degree of Christian excellence to ano- ther, till they are qualified to enjoy that state of purity wl'ich is prepared for them." — " A state of purity!" repeated the attentive squire: " there is much imjiruxi in that phrase of yours. When I used to think of heaven, I never considered ho\r I must be qualified to enjoy it." THE DEPARTUKE. J il) The idea of meeting- again at some future pe- riod, lessened the pain caeh v:\viy would otherwise have experienced on taking leave. Rachel and Mi?s Bustle had agreed on a correspondence, wliich we flatter ourselves will prove of great ad- vantage to the latter. Mrs. Placid was somewhat surprised, when questioned hy the squire if she liked letter-writing well enough to favour him with her correspondence? — " I don't often write," said he, "especiall\' to ladies; hut, if you'll excuse all m}' blunders, I'll answer all yoiu' letters." The widow smiled assent; for she never omitted a com- pliance with any request,whereby she might prove in the smallest degree useful. Mr. Friendly, who stood by, a silent hearer of all the abovt arrangements, on the squire's depar- ture, assured him of a welcome reception when- ever he might feel disposed for his conversation. '' I thank yon heartily," replied Mr. Bustle: *' there was a time when I should have refused your invitation; but the opinion [ once forn)cd- in haste to your disadvantage, I have rej)ented at leisure; and I hope never to behave ungrateful to vou, who have already done me such kind otiices." The squire so saying, and casting one more Ux.k .\t his fair acquaintance, departed for his solitary h.abitation. © Q 150 CHAP. Xf. 77ie zcits of three fine geinlemen exercised at the expense of Mr. Friendly. Their success, and ■Mr. Friendly' s behaviour on the occasion. An event takes place, which surprises and disconcerts all parties. Mr. Friendly visits a fine lady. His reception, and the event of his visit. A re- formation hoped for in one 7chose errors proceed, chiefiy from wrong education. The interference of Mr. Friendly in rescuing Miss Bustle from the acquaintance of the captain, it may be supposed gave that gentleman great of- fence; but no fashionable method of revenging himself presented. Mr. Friend]}', the captain well knew, was invulnerable to every attack [jut sound argument — unfortunately, the only weapon in ••vhich bis antagonist was unskilful. What was \o be done"? The captain deeply considered, and called to his assistance also the advice of two merry acquaintances, who chanced to call upon liim the morning he was considering. The case being fairly stated, and the parties described, the two counsellors gave their opinion that nothing THE PLOT. 151 belter could be done than to play off some good trick upon the gentleman. " That's your sort!" exclaimed the captain, clapping his hands toge- gcther. " Egad, I'm glad that I consulted you ! What shall it be?" After various schemes were proposed and rejected, it was at~ length agreed upon, that Mr. Friendly should be drawn, by a stratagem, to the salne inn where he had offended, and made to partake of some liquor, which should be so prepared as to greatly disorder, though not eventually injure, him. Ehxted with the prospect of tire success their san- guine disposition ensured them, they all set off in the afternoon to the Rose; and while the captain and one of the young gentlemen busied themselves in preparing the mixture, and arranging their plans, the other marched boldly to Mr. Friendly 's door, gained admittance into his presence, and informed him that a gentleman at the above-men- tioned inn was desirous of seeing him on particu- lar business. " I wish," observed Mr. Friendly, "he had accompanied thee hither: who is he? and what is the purport of liis business?" — " Sir," replied the messenger, who was seldom at a loss w!ien a falsit}^ would serve his turn, " the gentle- man is lame, and his business I am not acquainted with." — " I pity him," replied Mr. Friendly ; "and seeing 1 am so highly favoured as to enjoy the use of my limbs, it is right and proper that I ?hould attend him. Be so obliging as to say I 152 THE MEETING. will come with all convenient speed. Thou art one of the waiters of the inn, I presume." Thougli the young gentleman, who'was in fnct the son of a person of some consequence, might feel a little niortilied at the mistake, he was so elated with the success of his embassy, that his mortification was not apparent. He iiastened back ; and tlie triumvirate had scarcely time to compose their merry countenances before Mr. Friendly arrived. At sight of the captain, lie expressed his concern for the lameness which he was given to suppose he suffered; and his curio- sity to know the business for which he was thus so suddenl3' and unexpectedly summoned. The captain, laughing loudly, candidly owned that the report of his lameness was a fudge on the part of his friend — " Who," added he, " loves to show off his wit at my expense. The business. Sir, I have with you," continued the officer, " is to adjust a point of honour in the presence of these gen- tlemen." Mr. Friendly seated liimself, leaned both his liands upon his sturdy walking-stick, and, fixing his penetrating eyes from beneath his flapped hat, addressed the youth he had mistaken for a waiter. ** Young man, beware of indulging a vein of hu- mour at the expense of veracity: thou art not apprized of the lengths to which it may carry thee — 'tis an awful thing to trifle with tlx: sacred laws of truth ! I advise thee also, as a friend^ to THE CONJECTURE. 1J3 examine the nature of genuine wit and humour, and then 1 am sure, if thou hast the sense which from thj' countenance I should judge thee pos- sessed of, (for truly thy aspect is prepossessing,) thou wilt discover thai thy seniors are not the persons on whom it becomes thee to exercise thy talent." Then turning to the captain — " Thy point of honour is the question: be prevailed on to state the case." The honourable gentleman seemed at a loss for a reply; for, to sny the truth, the majest}' of Mr. Friendly 's appearance had excited some degree of awe in each person present: yet the two 3'ouths who had the least concern in the business, could not avoid smiling on each other. Mr. Friendly, who was all eye and attention to what was going forward, interrogated them on the sub- ject of their merriment. " If," said he, " any lu- dicrous incident has occurred to excite your risi- bility, I should esteem it a favour if ye will inform me, for / can laugh too ; and, indeed, decent mirlh is friendly to health of body as well as mind; and 1 assure yc, I feel obliged to that person wlio can make nie laugh." Now we slirevvdly suspect that Mr. Friendly was not altogether ignorant of the cause of the nuMrimcnt he witnessed; and, possibly, by this time had penetrated into the character of each person before him. But not choosing to appear too well informed, he ag;;in addressed the captain 154 THE AMENDE HONORABLE. with the request that he would state his point of honour. " Sir," replied the officer, assuming an authoritative 'air, "you, insulted me the last time we met in this house, by taking from my protec- tion two ladies, and then discharging a paltry 'debt at the bpr — making me appear insolvent to tiie master of the inn, or else a paltroon, hkcly to run away from my creditors : now I appeal to tliese gentlemen, if such conduct does not require satiofactionr" The above was a preconcerted speech, and a preconcerted answer was also prepared by the young, gentlemen appealed to. They declared, the only amende honorable Mr. Ftiendly could r!ow render, was to partake of a bottle of wine with them, pointing to those ready decanted for the purpose. As there appeared some good-hu- mour in this novel scheme of satisfying a fashion- able man, Mr. Friendly was not displeased. " I will," said he, " by no means engage to drink an equal proportion of the two bottles before us; but a glass or two 1 will not refuse, provided ye are w^iJling to enter on proiilable discourse." So Saying, he drew off his gloves, but not his hat; and while he turned round to place his stick in a corner, the captain very dexterously contrived to fill a glass for him out of the decanter dedicated to his sole use. Then filling the other three lor themselves, each gentleman drank the health of Mr. Friendly. He drew his chair towards the 2 THE MORALIST. 155 table — " We are," observed he, " distlngiiishecl fVom the brutes which perish by many noble qua- lifications; amongst these, I account the faculty of speech not the least valuable: by means there- of" we can benefit and entertain each other, and, if it is not our own faults, rational conversation may ever be at our command. The season of youth should be devoted to the acquisition of knowledge, and mature years to the dis|)ensing of it." Mr. Friendly looked as though he expected some answer; but finding no other than, "" Sir, your wine stands before you," proceeded — '' To acquire a general knowledge of mankind, historical reading is necessary; but I imagine biography is the best adapted to serve the purposes of com- mon life: from the virtues and the errors of in- dividuals, we learn to regulate our own conduct, and thus become wise by other persons' expe- rience." Mr. Friendly paused again, and cast liis eyes alternately on each of the gentlemen. The cap- tain, so unexpectedly called upon to engage in rational conversation, wisely imagined a decent apology would be better than an unsuccessful at- tempt; so turning to Mr. Friendly, he remarked, that if reading was necessary, in order to furnish materials for conversation, persons like himself, who were continually travelling, were unavoidably disqualified. *^ By no means," replied the Friend ; " if thou hast travelled, thou hast had a very supe- 1;"jO TIIK tMBARRASSMENT. rior advantage over myself." Then drawing hia chair still nearer the traveller, as though he was eager to catch some interesting story, he added — " Indulge us, I entreat thee, with some account of the customs and manners of those countries through which thou hast travelled." Every moment added new embarrassments to the unfortunate officer. He felt conscious that, like many other travellers, he had made no obser- vations of the nature Mr. Friendly required; but had merely looked at the outside of every church, and jo»>ed a riot at every theatre, in the different places he had visited. His embarrassment was for the instant reheved, by one of his companions again urging Mr, Friendly io taste iiis wine, which still remained before him. '' Presently I will oblige thee," returned the Friend. " 1 al- ways take my own time on these occasions: when I am disposed^ I'll not wait for thy soli,citations." Then again gazing on the captain, he seemed to expect a reply to his request. " Customs and manners!" repeated the officer: " reall}', Sir, I would oblige you, if I was not troubled with so bad a memory." — " I am appre- hensive," observed Mr. Friendly, " that thine ex- cuse for a bad memory is like the report of thy lameness, all fudge. I suspect thou hast passed thy time hitherto to little purpose; and 1 recom- mend thee to reflect on the precious nature of time before it be too late to redeem it."' — " I wish. THE SURPRISE. 157 Sir," returned the captain, " you would toast my reformation." Mr. Friendly now, with a good-humoured as- pect, after remarking that drinking toasts was contrary to his custon), hut that he sincerely wished the general reformation of mankind, raised the glass of wine to his lips; but just as the gay gparks were congratulating themselves on their long waited for success, the sudden opening of the door occasioned him to put it down again un- tasted, his attention being attracted by the en- trance of two men, who presented the captain with a piece of paper: at the same time, with the familiarity of an old acquaintance, one of them tapped him on the shoulder. The captain read his note with some emotion, then raising his eye to the person who presented it — " A scoundrel!" said he: "why could he not wait my return to town?" — "Sir," mildly returned the man, "your frequent evasion of payment was the reason." The secret could now be no longer concealed; each person present looked conscious they were in possession of it, and the ofiiccr had onl}' to make the best of his sudden disgrace. "A mere bagatelle!" said he. "Can 3'ou accommodi.te me with fifty pounds?" to one of his young friends : " I have unfortunately just drawn my last from my banker." The youth returned a negative, as might have been expected, but offered bail, which the sheriff's PART H;, P lis THE DILEMMA. officer^ as might also have been expected^ refused ^ but, looking at Mr. Friendly, he added — *' I should aot refuse bail from that gentleman." — '^ Thou dost pay a very gratifying respect to our Society/* replied Mr. Friendly ; "for thou canst have no knowledge of my person individually." — " No, Sir!" replied the raan:"^! must have then soon forgotten t'.ie beneftictor of poor S. W." — " Aye," returned Mr. Friendly, " I recollect, a society with whom I have some interest, discharged a small debt for a person so named, who by ill-suc- cess, not ill-conduct, was embarrassed in his cir- cumstances." — '' And did the same society set him up in business again. Sir r" asked the inquisi- tive stranger, but with an air which implied. he neither expected or needed an answer. " I am concerned for thy situation," said the Friend, turning to the captain; "but as I am ap- prehensive it is occasioned by thy indiscretions, 1 must not Hastily form measures for thy relief. The sum for which thou art arrested is no baga- telle in my metliod of acx:ount. 1 advise thee to submit to tlie usual forms prescribed on these me- Jancholy occasions, and if none of thy friends and relations can assist thee, let me know." So saying, Mr. Friendly departed, and left the three gay gentlemen too mucli occuj>ied by the unpleasant circumstances they w^ere in to regret the failure of their mischievous design. Xii this dilemma it was natural fur the captain Durance vile. 169 to look for assistance to his aunt, Miss Finakiu; but he entertained great apprehensions, on ac- count of his late unforgiven frolic. He however vrote her a respectful note, which his two friends undertook to convey; and, taking the advice of Mr. Friendly, he submitted, while her answer was depending, with a tolerable grace, to the " durance vile" he could not prevent. In the mean wliilc, the kind heart of Mr. Friendly sympathized in his distress; and the fol- lowing day he called upon him in confinement. He found him greatly agitated, in consequence of the answer received from his aunt. She refused lier assistance ; alleging, for an excuse, his late infamous conduct, as she termed it. The captain seemed greatly .affected by Mr. Friendly's benevo- lent visit, and wisely resolved to make him a con- fident. He did not conceal his extTavag;Hncies; and Mr. Friendly, while he commended his can- dour, reproved and counselled him with his usual mildness and wisdom. Stru«'k l)y the strong ex- pression ('infamous conduct") used by his aunt, l^.e inquired the jiarticu'iars of her meanimr, and received them from the captain as ahvady related, only with the difference of a melancholy instead of a mirthful air m the narrator. " My exclama- tion," added he, '• of — ' Oh the miseries of a painted face!' has ruined me." — "Truly," replied M-r. Friendly, "' tliou mayest now exclaim — ' Oii 160 MR. friendly's offer. the misery of all miseries, to affront a rich aunt "by talking of misery!' However, as thy conduct in this business bears more strongly the mark of foUif than o^ vice, I am in hopes t'.iy relation may be induced to excuse thee. Dost thou think ray interference would avail ?" i\s a man sinking in the wave catches at the slightest assistance, so our distressed gentleman expressed a hope which induced Mr. Friendly to set off on a visit to Miss Finakin. Durina; his short ride, which the convenience of a stage-coach procured him, he revolved his arguments, and prepared a powerful appeal to the reason, princi- ples, and feelings, which he supposed the lady 37iight possess : it never occurring to him, that fine ladies were ever to be found deficient in the two first. When Miss Finakin was informed that a qua- ker gentleman waited lier appearance, she ex- pressed great surprise to the servant assisting her to dress; adding — *' Patience guide me! 1 had enough of quakerism on my journey." She how- ever, prompted by curiosity, soon hastened into his presence, arrayed in one of her most fantas- tical suits of apparel. It so happened that Mr. Friendly professed himself of the opinion of a certain sagacious writer, who said — '*" A lady's disposition is to be discovered from her dress." We are far from coinciding universally with Mr. THE UNWELCOME VISIT. l6i F., yet, in the present case, must confess he was not niisiakeu ui the ideas Miss Finakin's excited to her (lisail vantage. Mr. Friendly very briefly stated the purport of his visit, reserving all his prolixity for the ar- gumentative part of his discourse. Miss Finakin as briefly repeated her resolution to discard her ungrateful nephew. " But," replied his advocate, *' I wish thee to state the principle which induces thee to be so very harsh and inflexible." Miss Finakin again repeated — " For his ungrateful conduct. I have," said she, "• been the means of introducing him into life; I procured for him his commission; I have sup[)lied iiim with ail his ready cash for amusements;^ and winked at, or pretended to be unacquainted with, numberless faults he has committed." — " Nay then," resumed Mr. Friend!}', *' thou art condenined by thy own fiGknowledgments ; and for aught I know, the ruin of thy nephew is to be ascribed to thyself." *'\Vh.i:t do you mean r" asked JNliss F,, with an impatient air. " I will explain myself," returned Mr. Friendly: '' in the first place, thou hast averred thou wast liie one to introduce him into life. The term life, 33 used on tiiis occasion, is rather vague and indefinite; but I imagine thou meanest fu- shionabh life." — " Undoubtedly," returned the lady, in a tone which seemed to imply it was the only life she esteemed valuable. ''Then," re- £uiin;d the Fiieml, "whatever may be urged 'by r 2 162 REPROor. tliee in favour of the school in which thy nephew was educated, when it so evidently shewed its in* efficacy to promote in him moral and prudent habits, it was thy duty to try another, agreeably to our practice in the education of children — to remove them from seminaries where they gain no improvement. Again, thou sayest thou didst sup- ply him with all his ready cash for amusements: here then I must plainly declare thou didst open the flood-gates of iniquity. A youth in London furnished with re'ady cash to partake of all its amusements! I want words to express the awful r.ature of his situation. And then, to close all, thou didst wink at and overlook his various im- prudences ! How wilt thou endure the self-reflec- tion this sad error of thine may one day occasion thee? Thou oughtest to liave counselled and re- proved him t,i)y superiority in years and expe- rience might have proved of great service to the imprudent young man. I pass over," continued Mr. Friendly, " thy mistakes in the choice of a profession for thy nephew, because my private opinion, and that of our Society, on the lawfulness of war, is of no weight in the argument ; but I must just remark, that it appears to me advisable for those particularly engaged in defence of their country, to avoid habits of dissipation, which have so direct a tendency to enervate both mind and body." There was ccrlaiuly no part of the above speech CHAGRIN. Ids calculated to please Miss Finakin; but the most offensive was the hint contained in the words, years and experience, having flattered herself that her nephew and herself must appear to strangers like brother and sister; and this persuasion in« duced her to honour him with her company in public. Desirous of ridding herself of a gentle- man so ungaUant as to hint at unpleasing truths, she replied, it was unnecessary to interfere in this quarrel between herself and nephew — she had quite made up her mind on the subject. " Yet/* observed Mr. Friendly, *' it does not appear to me consistent with thy former conduct; for by thy own acknowledgment, thou hast overlooked worse offences than that thou now resentest so highly. I am not disposed to vindic;ite his late behaviour: it was contrary to the rules of decorum, a word, he tells me, not found in the fashionable vocabulary, and on that account he is the more excusable for its violation ; and thou shouldest not be offended so higlily at his unguarded excla- mation, seeing thy own vanity gave the occasion." Miss Finakin perfectly well recollected the ex- clamation referred to; but, extremely vexed that Mr. Friendly should thus be in possession of what she imagined a secret, she lost her usual politeness, and, looking towards the parlour door, she remark- ed, that persons who could plead the cause of in- gratitude and insolence were not such as she had been accustomed to associate with. Mr. Fxiendiy 164 RECONCILIATION. took the hint, bat no offence : he mildly answer- ed, " I am sorry to leave thee in thy present frame of mind ; but as thou seemest to desire my de- parture, I TC>ill depart: only give me thy word that thou wilt duly weigh the few hints I have drop- ped, and I will, nothing unforeseen preventing, call on thee again in a day or two." There were i'ew engagements that'Miss Finakin would have refused, which would rid her of her present visitor. She promised to consider ;—^?i most smgular work for her to engage in ! — and she did consider, though not exactly in the manner Mr. Friendly recommended. She made no reflec- tions on the impropriety of her past conduct, and of course formed no resolutions of amendment; but she considered what the fashionable world (where her nephew was a favourite) would say, if they heard of bis present disgrace, and what they would think of her on the occasion. She also considercd that his commission would be lost if he continued long in confinement, and that he had 110 other relation able to assist liim. These con- siderations, united to the formidable apprehension of another visit iVom the quaker, determined her to discharge the debt in question. She even did more, for siie was prevailed on to re-admit the of- fender to her regard; and in the course of a few days they returned to London — the lady ngain to immerse herself in the whirlpool of fashionable amusements, and the gentleman to join his regi- GRATITUDE. lOS ment. He had the gratitude to call 'upon Mr. Friendly as soon as he was released, and patiently attended a long lecture that gentleman thought proper to deliver: indeed his late mortification seemed to have a good influence on his mind ; and Mr. Friendly expressed his hope that years and experience would check those follies which ap-- peared to arise in him more from inconsideration than depravity of heart. im CHAP. xir. 37/c greai poticer of female ififuence, and hot» iC may hc?>t be acquired. A youug clergyman does more than he engaged to do. How a mind of great energy, and zcarni feelings, will act under the influence of Chriatianiti/. The squire receives a short letter, and returns a long answer. Its possible effect anticipated. A conjecture formed respecting Rachel's future prospects in life, lohicli- Kill surprise no one. The author takes leave. Female influence is universally acknowledged,- in its effects upon society as well as individuals. The influence which the Widow Placid pained over the mind of Sqmre Bustle has been described ; and it only remains briefly to consider by what means it was effected. It was not by means of the adventitious advantages of youth,. l)eauty, or accomjilishnienls; but her unafl'ected [^iely, and sweetness of manners. I^io latter quality has been greatly recommended, but too often with no other view than that oi' plvasii/g : from the exam- ple of Mrs. Placid, we hope the female reader will be encouraged to cultivate it for use as well MRS. placid's character. iGj as ornament. Without this amiable trait in her character, even her piety might have passed un- known or unregarded. It disposed her indeed to speak for the honour of religion; but ihc munner with vvhieh she spoke rendered her words aceept- able. vShe advised without dogmatism; she re- proved without acrimony; she aimed at pleasing the ear by tlie correctness of her language; and, above all, when she conversed on the sublime truths of Christianity, she betrayed no parly pre- judices which could excite displeasure in those she was desirous to instruct. Kere, then, is a character not only worthy of imitation, but whieli every intelligent female is capable of imitating. The rules are few and simple ; but were they re5sion of concern "at my havi-ig im- bibed evangelical scii'iments greatly surprised me, as I imagined evangelical sentiments were those taught by the evangelists in the four Gospels; but, lest 1 might be mistaken in my supposition, 1 referred lo that dictionary you left behind yon, for the mcaniuGr of the word c-cav^elical : the dic- tionury coiinruied my opinion, so that you have, in effect, said, the doctrines taught by Chiist and liis apostles in the Gospel are of an evil tendency. Bui as I cannot bring nu'self to suppose that you are such a deist as that sentiment would ^ prove yon, I conclude you omitted the words, what are fahtly called, which you should have inserted hi:^' tween I imbibed and evangelical. If this be the case, 1 can easily excuse you, as it onh" proves that a scholar, and even a lawyer, can wriie incor- rectly sometimes. " On the supposition, then, of your having mis- taken n\y sentiments, by concluding they are not evangelical, 1 will state them as briefly as possible; 3 riiP. T.F.TTER CONJ l.^CED. 17i ioY I am not one oT those, who like to perplex every caube by a iniiUitiicle of words. I take ir.y ie!iji,i"n from the whole oi the Bible; but, os you havc' listed the word evang'^iieal, [ will go no i'ur- liier than ihe ioiir Gospels, to prove its agreement to the doctriue taught by Clirist hiinself. I'ivst, I believe that our Lord's object in coming inio the world v,as to i^ave lii^ people from their sins, bv ffivinir, according; to his. own declaration, his life as "a ransom for many:" being the Lamb of (iod, which lakcili away the sin of the world. Of .course, his doijg this proves tiie sinful estate of man : ond ih.e necessity of a renewal of his nature, is taught by the words, " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God ;" and, fiutlier, that this change is wrought in the heart by tiic Hoiy Spirit, who also abides with all those wno believe in Christ, to teach, to comfort, and to enable iheni U, glorify his p.ansc, by the good works of the Spirit, as you may. read in thi.* four- teeuLh chapler of St, John's Gospel. [ believe all that is sail! in tlic first chapter of the same Gos- pel, re^-pectirig tlie divi lirj of our liord ; and I bclievej-ttlso, tJuit doclrine contained in tlje sixth, liiougli [ confess I was at "first, Hkc his d:sci{)!e?, greatly ofiended, and took no small [)ains to c.v- plain it away, just in the mae.ner 1 am told some scholars have done, 'ihe »/;learncd, as well as the learned, are loath to usciibe the nhclc of iheir J/ii THE LETTER CONTINUED. salvation to divine grace. The doctrines oF a ic- siiirection and judgment to cotne 1 leani also from the Gospels; and oi" course, if 1 believe the promises maJe to the righteous, I believe the threatening) denounced against the finally ini- pcniient. " From the above principles, I leave any ra- tional man to determine whether any evil ci'i arise. It does not. become any one to boast, yet you must, on tins occasion, permit me to say what they have done for me. They have made me fear fi?7/ as the greatest evil, and hate it as mv bitterest eivcmy ; they have made Uie delight in church- going and lie society of Christians, and to feel, when in company with my old acquaintance, that 1 have lost all relish i'or l!;Lir profane and worldly conversation; they have more than reconciled me to my late heavy iidliction, in the loss of your sister, who, I trust, is only gone a few years beiore me to a world of perfect happiness. Having men- tioned her, I aujst jvist say what these same prin- ciples did for her. I might enlarge on the pa- tience, the meekness, the holy joy, ihey wrought in her soul; but, dear John, I 4iave no powers of description worthy of her. If, like me, you luid attended her dying bed, you niust have been con- vinced tliai we have made no rniiitake, but that our principles must be truly evangelical. " Vour mother sitting: ^-'v jhuI nb'^erving the TIIF, LETTER CONTINUED. 173 f< ars drop on my paper as 1 wrote the last sen- t.ncr, desires me to turn away my thoughts Ironi (.:)r dear Nancy, to instances less affecting to my fctliiigs; and one has lately occurred^ in the exe- (nilion of that poor criminal I formerly mentioned. Sow perhaps you start, and say, as I did myself, I low can a thief get to heaven? Why, no other way than by the free grace of the Gospel. Read the eleventh verse of the sixth cha):»ter of the first ol' Corinthians, and you will see how^ a large body of them will get there. But don't leave out the word sanctified; for if you should, you would in- deed prove that evangelical doctrines are of an evil tendency. This poor sinner did not die, like a martyr, triamj-ihantly , but, like a penitent, in hope. Oh ! that is a precious religion, which can impart consolation to man in every possible cir- cumstance ! " I leave you, for the present, to consider what I have said, and add only, that I wish you to come as soon as possible, and talk over these subjects with our young rector; and if any of your lawyer friends tiave any prejudices against the Gospel doctrines, bring them down with you; for I assure you our new rector is a great scholar, and knows how to answer quibbles raised by people of every profession; provided they bring honest minds open to conviction^ tell them they shall have a hearty welcome. " I remain, &,c. &c." 374 THE CONCLUSION. What effect the proposed visit may have npon the gentleman in question cannot be determined, for '.ve are informed that he has unhappily im- bilied great prejudices against the doctrines of Christianity, and that he by no means mistook in the form of his expression, as his father-in-law vi^as ready to suppose; but as his present opposition arises more from ignorance than depravity, a hope n:!ay he entertained, that when his understanding is better informed his prejudices may be greatly removed. The pious Mrs. Placid and her amiable daugli- ter still enjoy the love and esteem of their nu- merous friends. The latter has learnt a useful les- son from her past imprudences; namely, to be diffident of her strength and judgment, and never to yield the latter when convinced of its rectitude. She is likely to be confirmed in all her good reso- lutions, by means of a union with a sensible and pious young man in her Society, who only waits till a few added years shall make their marriage agreeable to the prudent circumspection of Mrs. Placid. And now what shall the auth.or say to those kind readers who have patiently travelled on to the concluding page? If she has diverted a few hours of languor, or raised an innocent smile on the cheek of despondency, she is rewarded. But thp: conclusion. 175- if she has done tnore, by offering any hint to sooth the sorrows of the aflHctecl, in pointing; to the mourner's refuge; if she hys informed the mind of youth in the momentous coiicerns of rehgion, the grand aim she had in view is accomphslied; and v\hilc she takes leave wiih the warmest emo-v, tions of gratitude for their indulgent attention, she desires to ascribe all her success to tliKt " teaching voice/' wiiose praise it is, " That whom it teaches it makes prompt to /ear)t, And with the boon ti'ves talents for its use."' THE END. Tovnscnd, PowcU, ^ Co. Friudrs, Qrum-ojurt, Fka-itnct, London, RECENT PUBLICATIONS, ImlrKCiiicaiul LntDtainhig, FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, 15 r THE SAME AUTUOii. All A\ liDOTK (o the MISERIES of HUMAN LIFE, in tU Ilist'jry "1 llie Widow I'lacid and htr DutTghler Huclicl. FittU Edition, jirict .3s. (id. " It is a pli;asir:4 Narrative, ant the cliaracters Ihrousliout are «vi;)ported Willi a great deal of spirit." — Brit. Cntic. 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By Mr. MACKENZIE. » VINSOJJ1V3 iO » B JUnSJAINII JHl «. e THE UMADY Of o I 09 ^£ n O VINi|Odl1V3 iO O e THCUNIVtR^ 6 I < - f i < r ¥ SANTA BARB. o OF CAIIFORNIA o W 33 s^ ■> M KUVnW 3H1 o e THE UNIVERSITY o 9 ^i is B • SANTA aARSAftA o , B O or CAtH^OttNf A o u s::^ -43 — 3^ o jO AHVilSn 3Ht «, e vavaavv vinvs o 9 Sft « AxisvaAiNn 3HI ■> B e THE UBRARY or o 09 ^S » WIN80JIW3 lO O n o VtlV8HV9 VINVS o g fft o AimaAiNn am f. r- 2 o THE lIBRARYOf o Pi — nris » THE UNlVtRSITV o &I I 1 1 y^ Is iO AVTasil itn " .4(K}RNU « / \ 4 ^