Chapter 2

It must be confessed there is a strong propensity in man's nature, to assign every thing uncommon to supernatural means. But though I am very apt to believe there is greater credulity in most minds, than will be candidly acknowledged, yet the degree of it must be in proportion to people's ignorance and want of information. Thus the famous doctors of the faculty at Paris, when John Faustus brought the first printed books that had then been seen in the world, or at least seen there, and sold them for manuscripts, were surprised at the performance, and questioned Faustus about it; but he affirming they were manuscripts, and that he kept a great many clerks employed to write them, they weresatisfied. Looking further, however, into the work, and observing such an exact uniformity throughout the whole, that if there was a blot in one, it was the same in all, etc. etc. etc. their doubts were revived. The learned divines not being able to comprehend the thing, (and that was always sufficient) concluded it must be thedevil; that it was done by magic and witchcraft; and that, in short, poor Faustus (who was indeed nothing but a mere printer) dealt with thedevil.

They accordingly took him up for amagicianand aconjurer, and one that worked by theBlack Art, that is to say, by the help of the devil—and threatened to hang him; commencing a process against him in their criminal courts; when the fear of the gallows induced Faustus todiscover the secret—that he had been a compositor to Koster of Harlem, the first inventor of printing.

Gardening made a much slower progress among the ancients, than architecture. The palace of Alcinous, in the seventh book of the Odyssey, is grand and highly ornamented; but his garden is no better than what we call a kitchen garden. This also Lady Frances excelled in. She had also a receptacle for all sorts of animals to retire to in their old age. It was of old the custom to bury the favourite dog near the master. To use those of the brute creation who toil for our pleasure, or labour for our profit, with hard and ungenerous treatment, is a species of inhumanity which all men allow to be derogatory from virtue. The authors of wanton cruelty towards the dumb creation, are justly execrated for their brutality. It is a crime which I believe many commit, without either considering the misery itproduces, or the guiltit incurs: and many more, who in fits of causeless or capricious displeasure intend to inflict the misery, have yet no sense that they incur guilt. Lady Frances makes use of buffaloes to draw her ploughs. These animals are far stronger than oxen, and eat less. Why have we not them in this country, and dromedaries and camels?

She cultivates India corn, which grows with vast reeds, which is of great use; and has attempted the culture of rice, and some other things upon boggy ground, with tolerable success. As our cork used to come from France, and now grows in Italy, she has tried it here, where it thrives amazingly; it resembles the evergreen oak, and bears acorns. When you strip other trees of their bark, they die; but this grows stronger, and produces a new coat. She leaves nothing unattempted which has a chance of becoming useful. Shealso procured sheep from Norway, which are peculiar from having four horns, and being spotted like deer, with a coat of substance betwixt the hair and wool, which is admirable for many uses.

Edward IV has been greatly censured, as taking a very impolitic and injurious measure in making a present to the King of Spain of some Cotswold sheep; the breed of which has been very detrimental to the English woollen manufacture, which has been a national branch of trade ever since. The celebrated Buffon affirms, that our sheep are very far removed from their natural state; from which it has been the usual course of things to decline.

Lady Frances cultivates silk-worms. The ancient Romans for a long time never dreamed that silk could be produced in their country; and the first silk ever seen in Greece, was after the conquest of Persia by Alexander the Great. From thence it was imported into Italy, but was sold at the rate of an equal weight of gold.[12]

The Persians being the only people of whom it was to be had, would not permit a single egg or worm to be carried out of their country. Hence the ancient Greeks and Romans were so little acquainted with the nature of silk, that they imagined it grew like a vegetable. Holosericum, or a stuff made of silk only, was worn by none but ladies of the first rank.[13]But men of the greatest quality, and even princes, were contented with subsericum, or a stuff made of half silk; to that Heliogabulus is remarked for being the first who wore holosericum[14]. In the reign of the emperor Justinian, a trial was made for bringing silk-worms alive to Constantinople, but without success; however, two monks who had been employed in the affair, repeated the trial with silk-worms eggs.[15]The experiment succeeded so well, that to this Constantinopolitan colony, all the silk-worms, and silk manufactures in Europe owe their existence and origin. Till the middle of the twelfth century, all the silken stuffs at Rome and other parts of Europe were of Grecian manufacture. But Roger I. King of Sicily, about the year 1138, invading Greece with a fleet of vessels with two or three benches of oars, called Galeæ or Sagittæ (from whence arederived the words galley and saique) and sacking and plundering Corinth, Thebes, and Athens, brought away to Palermo, among other prisoners, a great number of silk weavers to instruct his subjects in that art. From them, as Otto Trisingensis de gestis Frederici, lib. I. cap. 23. informs us, the Italians soon learnt the method of manufacturing silk.

Lady Frances did not restrain farmers, or the sons of farmers from shooting, as none are better entitled to game than those whose property is the support of it.

'See that assemblage of the sons of wealth,Whose pity and humanity extendTo dumb creation! with what costly careThey study to preserve the brutal raceFromvulgarpersecution! Truly greatWere such benevolence, could their designDeserve so laudable a name!—Alas! What are they but monopolists in blood,That to themselves endeavour to preserveInviolate the cruel privilegeOf slaughter and destruction? What is thisBut petty tyranny, th' ambitious childOf luxury and pride? If Heaven indulgeA right to kill, each free-born Briton sureMay claim his portion of the carnage. AllO'er nature's commoners, by nature's law,Plead equal privilege: what then supportsThis usurpation in the wealthier tribe;Thequalifyingacres? no, proud man,Possessions give not thee superior claimTo that, which equally pertains to all—Whose property you timid hare, which feedsIn thy inclosure? thine? denied—allow'd,Yet if the fearful animal be thine,Because the innocently cropsto-dayThe herbage of thy freehold, whose will beThe claimto-morrow, when thy neighbour's soilAffords her pasturage? Assuming man!How is the hardy Briton's spirit tam'dBy thy oppressive pride!-when danger comesWho shall defend thy property? thyself?No; that poor Briton, whom thou hast undoneBy prosecutions—will he not retort,"What's liberty to me? 'tis lost! 'tis gone!"If I must be oppress'd, it matters not"Who are th' oppressors. Shall I hazard life"For those imperious lordlings, who denied"That privilege, which Heaven and nature meant"For food, or sport, or exercise to all?"'British Philippic.

'See that assemblage of the sons of wealth,Whose pity and humanity extendTo dumb creation! with what costly careThey study to preserve the brutal raceFromvulgarpersecution! Truly greatWere such benevolence, could their designDeserve so laudable a name!—Alas! What are they but monopolists in blood,That to themselves endeavour to preserveInviolate the cruel privilegeOf slaughter and destruction? What is thisBut petty tyranny, th' ambitious childOf luxury and pride? If Heaven indulgeA right to kill, each free-born Briton sureMay claim his portion of the carnage. AllO'er nature's commoners, by nature's law,Plead equal privilege: what then supportsThis usurpation in the wealthier tribe;Thequalifyingacres? no, proud man,Possessions give not thee superior claimTo that, which equally pertains to all—Whose property you timid hare, which feedsIn thy inclosure? thine? denied—allow'd,Yet if the fearful animal be thine,Because the innocently cropsto-dayThe herbage of thy freehold, whose will beThe claimto-morrow, when thy neighbour's soilAffords her pasturage? Assuming man!How is the hardy Briton's spirit tam'dBy thy oppressive pride!-when danger comesWho shall defend thy property? thyself?No; that poor Briton, whom thou hast undoneBy prosecutions—will he not retort,"What's liberty to me? 'tis lost! 'tis gone!"If I must be oppress'd, it matters not"Who are th' oppressors. Shall I hazard life"For those imperious lordlings, who denied"That privilege, which Heaven and nature meant"For food, or sport, or exercise to all?"'

British Philippic.

Mr Burt devoted his time much to his grand-children, though he was far from wishing to obtrude too much knowledge on their tender years, as the mind may be overstrained by too intense application, in the same way as the body may be weakened by too much exercise before it arrives at its full strength.

Quintilian compares the understanding of children to vessels into which no liquor can be poured but drop by drop. But there is a certain season, when our minds may be enlarged—when a great stock of useful truths may be acquired—when our passions will readily submit to the government of reason—when right principles may be so fixed in us, as to influence every important action of our future lives. If at that period it is neglected, error or ignorance are, according to the ordinary course of things, entailed upon us. Our passions gain a strength that we afterwards vainly oppose—wrong inclinations becometoo confirmed in us, that they defeat all our endeavours to correct them. A superior capacity, an ardent thirst for knowledge, and the finest dispositions, soon discovered themselves in Lord Munster; particularly a singular warmth of affection, and disinterestedness of temper. And although experience evinces, that memory, understanding, and fancy, are seldom united in one person, yet he is one of those transcendant geniuses, who is blessed with all three. Mr Burt treated him always with that distant condescension, which, though it encourages to freedom, commands at the same time respect. He appeared in different characters to him, that he might find something new and agreeable in his conversation.

Montaigne says; 'there is nothing like alluring the passions andaffections; otherwise we only make asses loaded with books.' Exquisite is the fruit produced by a right temperature of the different qualities, and mixture of the world and philosophy, business and pleasure, dignity and politeness. The Romans termed itUrbanitas, the GreeksAtticism.

At the age of sixteen years the Earl of Munster having received every advantage education could bestow on him, fully answered the most sanguine expectations his aunt had formed of him. She then insinuated to him his dependent situation—her own intentions of marrying, the great expenses she had been at in the various improvements she had made on the estate, which rendered it necessary for him to apply himself to business, as it would disable her from doing so much for him as she would have inclined: that as she had bestowed on him every advantage of education, the alternative before him was that ofapplicationon his part, or the utmost severity ofcensureon that of the world.

Lady Frances adopted this plan with Lord Munster to keep him ignorant of her intentions in his favor, that she might not obstruct his exerting all his physical and moral strength in acquiring that knowledge and virtue he at present so eminently possesses. Though a man of rank born to a large fortune may have fine natural parts, yet it takes a great deal to make him agreat man. His splendid titles and large estate, are in some degree a bar to those acquirements, as he rests secure in his rank and independent fortune. How would the number of the nobility be reduced, were only those allowed to assume that title who could make good their claim to it by the distinguished endowments which raised the founder of the family? A man of rank who is a jockey at Newmarket rises no higher in my estimation than the lowest mechanic. Men of literature are the only nobility known in China: In other countries the laws inflict punishmenton criminal actions: there, they do more;they reward virtue. If the fame of a generous action is spread in a province, the mandarin is obliged to acquaint the emperor, who presently sends a badge of honor to the person who has so well deserved it. Be their birth ever so low, they become mandarins of the highest rank, in proportion to the extent of their worth or learning. On the other hand, be their birth ever so exalted, they quickly sink into poverty and obscurity if theyneglect there studies which raised their fathers.[16][17]

The care, attention, and labour incumbent on men for their support, invigorate both the soul and the body, and they are the natural causes of health and sagacity. Virtue itself would be indolent if she had no passions to conquer and regulate. It is every way our advantage that we have no such slothful paradise as the poets feigned in the golden age: and the alledged blemishes in nature, are either the unavoidable accompanyments or consequences of a structure, and of laws subservient to advantages, which quite over-balance these inconveniences, or sometimes the direct and natural means of obtaining those advantages. The situation of the King of Sardinia, environed on all sides with powerful monarchs, obliges him to act with the greatest circumspection; which circumstance seems to have formed the character of that house.—As Lady Frances was desirous of her nephew's understanding commerce, she proposed his becoming a merchant:—with great modesty, and deference for her opinion, he submitted to her, whether the confined maxims of a trader were not destructive of the social virtues; if they did not tend to destroy those refined feelings of the soul that distinguish man from man?[18]She answered, 'What situation is like that of a man, who with one stroke of a pen makes himself obeyed from one end of the world to the other? his name, his signature, has no necessity, like the army of a Sovereign, for the value of metal to come to the assistance of the impression: himself does all; he has signed, and that is enough.'

Lord Munster replied, 'that there were two ranks in life he should prefer as more suitable to the title he bore, though unaccompanied by fortune, the magistrate who supports the laws, or that of the soldier who defends his country!' Highly charmed with his sentiments, it required no small resolution for his aunt, who fondly loved him, to support the character she had assumed;but recollecting herself, observed, that it was not unusual for men of high birth to enrich their familyby trade.

When the Earl of Oxford was at the head of affairs in England, his brother was a factor at Aleppo; and if Lord Townshend was respected in parliament as a secretary of state, his brother was no less regarded in the city as a merchant. Without giving way, added she, to ideas of birth, you may be happy, and by your temper, application, and personal accomplishments, make a figure in life without the aid of such an accidentalappendage; and by your attainments and engaging qualities obtain a general esteem, the surest step to advancement and honor.

Lord Munster seemedconvinced, though not allured by her arguments, yielding himself to her guidance, with that sweetness of disposition, which though so amiable in itself is so much to be apprehended. For those dispositions of the mind, which are generally termed virtuous, are frequently the occasion of our falling into vices, from which opposite ones, though generally condemned, would have secured us.

In pursuance of Lady Frances's plan, Lord Munster was sent to Holland, where he was boarded for two years in a creditable family in Amsterdam, as the best school for learning, temperance, economy, and every domestic virtue.

Men of all climates and religions being also natives of Holland, gave him liberal notions and enlarged ideas; their earth is as free as their air. Their toleration of religion, indeed, is so extreme, it amounts to a total unconcern about them. At the same communion, in the same church, some receive sitting, others standing, or kneeling; and this freedom appeared to that crafty people, such unquestionable policy, that it came in from common sense alone, and passed without a law.[19]To this cause is assigned the number of inhabitants; as the land fit for tillage in Holland does not exceed four hundred thousand acres[20]. This country initself furnishes an illustration of the plan Lady Frances was following with her nephew. Industry, honesty, and concern for the public welfare, made the inhabitants considerable. If they depart from these, and if the sea returns upon them, their having existed will be known only from tradition and books. The preservation of both Egypt and Holland depends upon the care they take of their dykes, and canals; but there is no work in the former so great as the building such a city as Amsterdam upon piles in the sea[21]. Venice also furnishes a striking instance of what wonders may be effected by industry: that out of a morass, a city of such splendor could be raised, and become the emporium of Europe, as it was before the discovery of the East and West Indies, is extraordinary. But this trade decayed, as that of Holland increased: almost all merchandizes which came from the Mediterranean were formerly landed at Venice, and from thence brought to Augsburg; from which place, they were dispersed through all Germany. But Holland has taken away all, and distributes all; and Augsburg suffers, as well as Venice, Milan, Antwerp, and an infinite number of other cities, which are atpresentaspoorasformerlytheywere rich. This furnishes an excellent example of the benefits arising from industry, and the necessity of exertion. Lord Munster rendered himself entirely master of the knowledge of our English trade and privileges. He also attained a competent skill in the history of jurisprudence[22]. As it is requisite for every man who has leisure and capacity for such researches to be acquainted with the nature and extent of that judicial authority which is to decide upon his person and property, and to which as a citizen he is bound to submit, he studied the English constitution and government in the ancient books of common law, and more modern writers, who outof them have given an account of this government. He next proceeded to the history of England, and with it joined in every king's reign the laws then made——This gave him insight into the reason of our statutes, and shewed him the true ground upon which they came to be made, and what weight they ought to have. By this means he read the history of his own country with intelligence, and was able to examine into theexcellenceordefectsof itsgovernment, and to judge of thefitnessorunfitnessof itsordersandlaws: and by this method he knows enough of the English law for a gentleman, though quite ignorant of thechicaneor wrangling, and captious part of it, or the arts how toavoiddoingright, and tosecure himselfindoing wrong. As Lord Munster was now eighteen years of age, Lady Frances wrote and acquainted him, that as he had rather testified a dislike to the mercantile scheme, she desired he would relinquish it; and as nothing contributes more to enlighten and improve the understanding, than apersonal acquaintance with foreign climates, she desired he would travel.—The man who by his birth-right is a free member of society, not a slave to despotic power, and who, in matters of religion, enjoys the invaluable blessing of private judgment, should not fail to visit other nations; for this will not only rub off all the selfish asperities he may have contracted from a narrow survey of things, but will also accompany him home with a more rational attachment to that constitution under which he had the happiness to be born. Heaven has placed us in a most advantageous situation; unless we are divided at home, attacks from abroad may molest but cannot ruin us. Our laws are the laws of freedom; our merchandise the traffic of opulence——Our constitution is framed and joined together by the choicest parts, picked and extracted from aristocracies, democracies, and sovereignties. We have a natural force todefendandmaintainthe empire of the seas. We enjoy wealth and possessions in both the Indies, if we do not lose them by our own misconduct——We boast at regular choice, and singular system of parliamentary government, so nicely calculated, as to be at once the defence and the support of the kingdom and the people. Our Sovereign has the power—but the parliament has still the law of that power[23].—What people on earth can say the same? The studies Lord Munster made of ourconstitution, when contrasted with his observations of other countries, made him return after three years, not anominal, but arealpatriot. This is not always the case. Too many of our young gentlemen bring home only a miserable reverse of every good purpose for which they were sent out:—as none travel more than the English, they ought, therefore, to let none surpass them in manly or generous perceptions. But we have reason to fear that what Mr Pope observes ofoneof them may be applicable tomost.

'Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too.'

Is not this owing to their early visiting France, where slavery is so artfully gilded over as to hide its natural deformity? If our countrymen were first to make the tour of Denmark, where the people are more apparently slaves, it would remedy this evil. On the contrary, when the subject of an arbitrary government has travelled into countries which enjoy the inestimable advantages of civil and religious liberty, he returns with a diminished affection for his own, and learns to despise and dislike that constitution which denies him the enjoyment of those natural rights, the knowledge and the value of which he has learnt from his happier neighbours.

Hence it is that despotic princes are cautious how they permit their subjects torange abroad; and for the reasons above intimated, travelling has ever been encouraged in free states.

With the finest person, Lord Munster possessed all the virtues and the graces——was all complacency in his manners, all sweetness in his disposition; humane, susceptible, and compassionate.

While Lady Frances had taken so much care of his education, it may be readily supposed she was not forgetful of Lady Eliza's, his sister—whose person is faultless, and of the middle size—her face is a sweet oval, and her complexion thebrunetteof the bright kind. The finest passions are always passing in her face; and in her lovely eyes there is a fluid fire sufficient to animate a score of inanimate beauties. She has a clear understanding, and a sound judgment; has read a great deal, and has a most happy elocution: possesses a great share of wit, and with equal strength and propriety can express the whole series of the passions in comic characters. The pliableness of her dispositions can raise and keep up agreeable sensations, and amuse her company.

Lord L—— declares he never saw anything equal to her,even on the French stage, in the article of transition from passion to passion in comic life. She is perfect mistress of music, and plays admirably well on the harpsicord; having great neatness, and more expression and meaning in her playing, than is often found among lady-players.—In this, as in every other branch of her education, she has had every advantage—Lady Frances herself being highly accomplished—and her long residence in Italy and France having perfected and improved her taste, in every accomplishment that can embellish or add graces to the youth and beauty of her niece—All her musical band have been the pupils of the first masters, and recommended to her by Santirelli, Jomelli, Galuppi, Piccini, and Sacchini. It is not then surprising that the works of these different masters are performed admirably well at Munster-house; and as there is great variety in their manner, there is that in every one of them to charm and please the most insensible. Lady Frances is highly charmed with Jomelli; while the fancy, fire, and feeling of Galuppi, and Piccini's comicstyle, are infinitely more attracting to Lady Eliza, than the taste, learning, great and noble ideas of Jomelli, or the serious style of Sacchini.—One of the Bezzodzi's, from Turin whoexcels on the hautboy, is also at Munster-house.

There is also a set of very excellent actors, who perform at the Tribuna, judging the representation of dramatic works of genius contribute as much to soften manners, as the exhibition of the Gladiators formerly did to harden them. When we complain of thelicentiousnessof the stage, I fear we have more reason to complain ofbad measuresin our policy, and a general decay ofvirtueandgood moralsamong us.

Moliere's comedies are said to have done more service to the courtiers, than the sermons of Bourdalone and Massillon. The great Saint Chrysostom, a name consecrated to immortality by his virtue, is thought to owe a great part of his eloquence and vehemence in correcting vice, to his constantly reading Aristophanes; nor was he even censured on that account, in those times of pure zeal, and primitive religion.

Lord Shaftesbury says, 'Bigotry hurries us away into the most furious excesses, upon trifles of no manner of consequence.' What is more useful to a nation than the picture of strong passions, and their fatal effects; of great crimes, and their chastisement; of great virtues, and their reward? Scarce had Peter the Great polishedRussia, before theatres were established there. The more Germany has improved, the more of our dramatic representations has it adopted. Those few places, where they were not received in the last age, are never ranked among civilized countries: and theatrical entertainments have their use everywhere, and often keep the common people from a worse employment of their time—and so far were the institution of theatres from being the fore-runners of slavery, or the badges of despotism, that they were most encouraged, and flourished best in free states.

It is easy to conceive that the acquaintance of Lady Frances was much courted, as no private person had it so much in their power to entertain their company so well; there being every requisite at Munster-house to delight the heart, please the eyes, and satisfy the understanding.—No person of any taste but would blush to acknowledge they have not been in Shropshire to admire her buildings, manufactures, schools, etc.—And it fares with her merit like the pictures of Raphael, which are seen with admiration by all, or at least no one dare own that he has no taste for a composition which has received so universal an applause.

Upon Lord Munster's being of age, she was thirty-seven; yet the regularity of her life contributed to make her lose no more in her person than what might be considered as the slight touches in a picture, which when faded diminish nothing of the master-strokes of the piece. Lord Darnley, since the time he had expected to become Lady Frances's husband, still continued to attach himself to her. 'Whatever her determinations may be,' said he, 'I am sensible of the value of her soul; her friendship is more tender than the endearment of love in other women.' Such forbearances were not uncommon in ages of chivalry; and however justly ridiculed by the inimitableCervantes, when carried to extremes, and terminating in Quixotism, yet it appears to constitute a capital part of the character ofa trueknight. Lord Darnley's attachment to Lady Frances was not founded on the weakness of his intellects; it never made him forgetful of his duties to society. He is at the same time a philosopher and a politician; and adds practice to speculation, experience to knowledge, in both these departments. Though the brilliant actions of some heroes are only handed down to us, and we view their characters through the magnifying end of the tube, yet Hercules himself could lay aside his club, and amuse himself with the distaff, to enjoy the company of the woman heloved. All great souls have descended occasionally, and divesting themselves of their heroism, have become susceptible of thetender passion.

Lady Frances respected Lord Darnley's character, as much as she loved his person; and the time was now arrived when she proposed ingenuously to confess to him the reasons of her past conduct, and to offer to dedicate the remainder of her life in rewarding his tender, fond, faithful attentions. But she suspected that—years had made such an alteration in her person, that she ceased to be an objectof love, (to his lordship) although perfectly convinced she possessedhis esteem—Under this apprehension it became impossible for her to act the part she intended—She became disquieted, and was determined, had that really been the case, never to have allied herself to any other. After revolving a thousand things, she at last determined to confirm or confute her hopes, by employing a particular friend, and a relation of Lord Darnley's, to discover his sentiments. Lady Frances's intimacy with this lady had commenced at Paris, when they were in the convent of the ——. As her character is peculiar, the indulgent reader will perhaps pardon the introduction of her story in this place.

At the time Lady Frances returned to England, Mrs Lee was taken out of the convent to be married. Her parents, dazzled with Mr Lee's wealth, forgot to attend to other requisites to render that state happy. Without his being a man of very shining parts, he had such talents as made him acceptable to women, in particular to a girl so young as she was when this alliance took place. He sung and danced well, was lively to extravagance, full of agreeable trifling, and always in good humour: add to this, he was handsome in his person, liberal to excess, and calculated for the seduction of the fair. Mrs Lee's great beauty, her parents partially flattered themselves would fix his affections.—All the graces of which the figure and emotions of a female were capable, were united in her; but his love for her was nothing but an impulse of passion which soon subsided. Addicted by his natural disposition to pleasure, he despised those which a tender sensibility renders so exquisitely delightful; such would have trespassed too much on his vanity. Unexperienced and artless, his innocent wife could not long retain his affections, and in the few years she lived with him, encountered many mortifications; first from the alienation of his affections, afterwards from the distressed situation of his affairs,which entirely changed his temper, rendering him impatient and passionate. His very footmen were taught to insult her, and every one in the family knew the most effectual way to ingratiate themselves with him, was to disregard his wife. Yet she bore it all with patience, and acted her part with prudence, endeavouring to disarm his anger with gentleness. She sometimes, indeed, lamented and complained, but the dove and the lamb do so too—'The poison of grief exhales only in complaints.'—She was neither sullen nor gay when he was out of humour; nor impertinent or melancholy when he was pleased—She obliged her affections to wait and submit to the various turns of his temper—trying to bribe his passions to her interest. She endeavoured also, by economy and proper attention, to retard as long as possible, the ruin that threatened him; and considerably diminished the household expenses.

This pleased her husband; he wanted to retrench, without appearing less magnificent; for his prudence (or rather his desire of saving at home to squander abroad) was still subordinate to his ostentation. But all these innocent stratagems were ineffectual; spending his whole time between women, racing, and gaming, one excess succeeded another, until his affairs were intirely involved. Previous to this, Mrs Lee had resigned her jewels to pay one of his game debts, which she afterwards saw adorning a girl he kept. The world saw he devoted himself only to objects of contempt, and pitied his neglect of a woman of her merit, and who was still handsome, having that style of beauty which is the image of a sensible heart, though sorrow and tears had deprived it of its freshness. This laid her open to the assiduity of men of gallantry, who are generally obliging enough, upon such occasions, to offer their assistance to dry up apretty woman's tears. It is to be confessed a woman under these circumstances is in a verydangerous situation.

None of Mr Lee's conduct was founded on propriety—he was witty, kind, cold, angry, easy, stiff, jealous, careless, cautious, confident, close, open, but allin the wrong place. She often retired into her closet, and wept the silent hours away for his hard-heartedness—yet without one unkind word or reproach. Her parents were dead, Lady Frances at a distance, her sorrows of a complicated kind, which required great delicacy to discover; she had no person to open her heart to, none to whom she could pourforth the sorrows of the soul! she had a susceptible heart, and no object she took any interest in, or who participated in her trials.—This situated, (the candid must acknowledge) she was perhaps more to bepitiedthanblamed, in permitting another object to glide insensibly into her affections—more especially as he was introduced by Mr Lee, as one to whom she was indebted for his life and fortune.

The firsthe had defended, when two gamblers, his adversaries, were on the point of killing him;the lasthe had preserved by discovering a scheme that had been practised on him by them when inebriated by liquor, to which he was much addicted. Her husband left her young and unexperienced heart to all the tortures and pangs of jealousy, and thatennuiattending an unoccupied heart; after flattering herself, as she had done nothing to deserve the estrangement of his affections, that they would be as permanent as her own. Why did he forsake her; why did he lay her open to temptations? her heart might have been his own, had he not cruelly abandoned her—at any rate it was too good to form another tye, had he not at last addedcontempttoneglectand his cruel usage at last would have animated a statue, at least I may safely declare nothing warmed with flesh and blood could bear it. A man of this humour is to be beloved only in the way of christianity—that is the utmost obedience which can be allowed to the commandments of God, and the authority of religion.

Were I obliged to draw a picture that should represent the happy union between an elevated soul, a penetrating mind, and a heart in which sweet humanity resides, I would form it entirely of the person and features of Mr Villars; and I fancy that all who had any just idea of those three qualities might perceive them plainly expressed in his form, look, and demeanor. Mr Lee pressed him to be much at his house; and as hisinnocent, thoughoppressed, wife had been kept in constant alarms concerning the consequences of his gaming——she could not but look on Mr Villars as the favour of her fortune, and on one to whom she might be indebted for her husband's reformation. I shall not expatiate on the sweetness and charms of his voice, of his noble appearance, and of the tincture of melancholy which softens the vivacity of his fine eyes; but what distinguishes him from most other men is the sentimental look of modest virtue, which never gives offence. He is not in the least a slave to interest; but as he is no stranger to the necessities of life,his conduct is always regular, and he never abandons himself to any excess. Such is and was Mr Villars. Mrs Lee very soon perceived his partiality for her—circumstanced as she was, his attentions were dangerous—but she could not with any propriety forbid hima houseto which her husband so constantlyinvited him, without letting him see she mistrusted herself—more especially as he never failed in his respect for her.

He became her only comforter and friend; and if from her youth and inexperience she was likely to fall into even the appearance of any error, it was this kind, this friendly monitor that guarded her from it.

His attentions became as necessary to her soul, as aliments of food are to the support of the body, while the respectful distance of his behaviour proved to her his passion was controlled by his respect.

Some surmises were at length insinuated to Mr Lee, to his wife's dishonour. He paid little attention to them—but coming home one night flushed with wine, and finding Mr Villars alone at supper with her, (no unusual matter, and by his own request) he drew his sword, and wounded him before he had time to defend himself! Mrs Lee fainted away——on her recovery she removed herself from a house to which no entreaties on his part could prevail on her to return—declaring she would live no longer with a man who could at once suspect her virtue, endanger his friend's life, and ruin her reputation.

The world talked differently about this affair. Should not the example of the law be followed, which is so tender in criminal cases, that delinquents are often foundnot guilty, for want of legal evidence, at the same time that the court, the jury, and every one present at the trial feel the strongestmoralconviction of theirguilt? Scandal on the contrary always gives its most important and fatal decisions fromappearancesandsuppositions, though reputation is dearer to a woman of honor than life itself. Mrs Lee experienced the malevolence of her own sex particularly. What, said they, could engage Mr Villars to devote all his time to her? is not friendship between a man and a woman a chimera, the mark of a passion which honor or self-interest bids them conceal? But whilst the world represented this affair in the worst colours, Lady Frances wrote her an affectionate letter, offering her assistance, and begging she would communicate her real situation, that she mightthe more effectually be enabled to serve her; to which Mrs Lee returned the following answer.

'Dear Madam.I received the honor of your letter, and find myself elevated by your notice—if there can be pride that ranks with virtues, it is that we feel from friendships with the worthy. The liberalsentiments you express, are a proof of the goodness of your heart——I have ever thought that to believe the worst is a mark of a mean spirit, and a wicked soul; at least I am sure, that the contrary quality, when it is not due to weakness of understanding, is the fruit of a generous temper. In return for your generosity, I will lay open my whole heart to you; and if in consequence I lose your esteem, I shall at least have the satisfaction resulting from a consciousness of my candour. This is a liberty I should have taken before, had it not proceeded from the timidity I felt in unbosoming myself to one whose virtues I dreaded, and in discoveringmy weaknessto one who I think hasnone of her own. Your ladyship knows the trials I suffered for many years; my conduct under the severest mortifications human nature could sustain. I was wounded in my affections, condemned and insulted in my person, impoverished in my circumstances: I still had strength of mind to regulate myself so as to meet your approbation: no species of calamity was unknown to me, nor were there wanting those of the other sex, who judged from my situation they might have a chance of succeeding with me, if I was weak enough to listen to them—but they soon gave up the pursuit, judging the excess of my misfortunes had hardened my heart entirely against certain impressions. But this was so far from being the case, that my sorrows, my sufferings, rendered my heart (naturally tender) more susceptible of that refined passion, which, when dignified by respect, and softened by tenderness, found so ready access to it[24].In short, circumstanced as I was, if it is a crime to love, I am very culpable! but had I unfortunately proceeded to any act contrary to my engagements with Mr Lee, I myself would have acquainted him with it, though, in the opinion of many, he would not have deserved so much candour from me.This being the real state of the case, I flatter myself your ladyship will think me moreweakthanwicked, morefrailthanculpable, moreunfortunatethanindiscreet. And I must now acquaint you, that I am determined never to return to my husband—I have consulted my reason on this subject, and when we have done so, whatever the decision be, whether in favour of our prejudices, or against them, we must rest satisfied, since nothing can be more certain than this, that he who follows that guide in the search of truth, as that was given to direct him, will have a much better plea to make for his conduct, than he who has resigned himself implicitly to the guidance of others. My maxim is, our understanding,properlyexercised, is themediumby which God makes known hiswillto us; and that in allcases, the voice of impartial reason is thevoice ofGod. Were my marriage even to be annulled, all the theologians in the world could not prove the least impiety in it.—Milton wrotethe doctrine and discipline of divorce; wherein he proves, that a contrariety of mind, destructive of felicity, peace, and happiness, are greater reasons of divorce than adultery, especially if there be no children, and there be a mutual consent for separation.He dedicated the second edition to the parliament of England, with the assembly of divines——The latter summoned him before the house of Lords, who, whetherapproving his doctrine, or not favouring his accusers, dismissed him. Necessary and just causes have necessary and just consequences: what error and disaster joined, reason and equity should disjoin.I see no reason why those who upon the evidence of more than fourteen years experience are unsuited to each other,joinednotmatched, should live disagreeably together, and exist miserably—merely for the inadequate satisfaction of exulting upon the degree of their patience in having to say they didnot part. A person may mistake in fixing love without knowledge of the party, but he cannot err that finds cause to dislike from woeful experience. It is, indeed, convenient for the lords of the creation to inculcate another doctrine, upon the same principles that the extreme and timorous attention to his own security made James I. very anxious to infuse into his subjects the belief of divine hereditary right, and a scrupulous unreserved obedienceto the power which God had set over them. Mr Villars, who is now reconciled with my husband, has written to intercede in his behalf, assuring me of his penitence and affection. Boileau has observed, that it is an easy matter in aChristian poemforGodto bringthe devil to reason. Could I believe that all my husband did, were the effects of love, it would not in the least alter my resolution, since I should consider a person whose affection had such dreadful effects, as dangerous to my repose, as one whose anger was implacable.——What signifies it to me whether it be love or hatred by which I suffer, if the danger and inconvenience be the same? I am certain were we to live together again, whenever we met we should as naturally quarrel as the elephant and the rhinoceros. Reconciliations in the marriage state, after violent breaches, are seldom lasting, and after what has passed between us, like the father of the gods and the queen of heaven, we shall be the best company whenasunder.He says his conduct proceeded from an excess of love! I desire to be subject no more to such excesses! I am content to be moderately beloved; nor shall I ever again give occasion for such extraordinary proofs of affection. Were I to act otherwise, it would afford too much encouragement for the men to use their wives ill.Too good subjects are apt to make badkings.He has my consent to live with any woman who can delight in such aloving husband, while I will force him to esteem my conduct, and irritate his animosity by declining a reconciliation. We are tired with perpetual gratitude, and perpetual hatred.——He wishes to be reconciled to me, not from any religious motive, or return of affection, his animosity being still the same—but because he is tired of acting the part of a provoked husband.I am piqued at Mr Villars's interesting himself in this matter. I shall not answer his letter for a week; I mistrust my own vivacity.Our imagination is often our greatest enemy: I am striving to weary mine before I act. Business like fruit hath its time of maturity, and we should not think of dispatching it while it is half ripe. The Cardinal de Retz said, 'I have all my life-time held men in greater esteem for what they forbore to do on some occasions than for what they did.'I have here a most delightful dwelling——It is thatched, and covered on every side with roses, wood-bines, and honey-suckles, surrounded with a garden of the most artful confusion. The streams all around murmur, and fall a thousand ways. A great variety of birds are here collected, and are in high harmony on the sprays. The ruins of an abbey enhance the beauties of this place: they appear at the distance of four hundred yards from the house; and as some great trees are now grown up among the remains, and a river winds among the broken walls, the view is solemn, the picture fine. Here I often meditate on my misfortunes.'There is a joy in grief when peace dwellsin the breast of the sad.'Ossian'sPoems.Sadness receives so many eulogiums in the scripture, that it is easy to judge, that if it be not of the number of thevirtues, it may be usefully employed in their service——and it may be truly observed, that without experiencing sorrow, we should never know life's true value.About a mile above the house is a range of very high hills, the sight of which renders me less incredulous of the accounts of Olympus, and mount Athos. Hygeia resides here,and dispenses the chief blessings of life, ease and health. I will pass my days in sweet tranquillity and study.'In either place 'tis folly to complain,The mind, and not the place, creates the pain.'Horace, lib. i. epist. 14.Could I flatter myself I should ever be honored by your presence, how happy I should be!—--Your eye, I am sure, would catch pleasure while it measures the surrounding landscape (even at this season of the year) of russet lawns and grey fallows, on which stray the nibbling flocks: the mountains too, which seem to support the labouring clouds, add sublimity to the charming scene. When I take a walk after a sedentary occupation, I feel a sensible pleasure; rest in its turn becomes agreeable, if it has been preceded by a moderate fatigue. Every action of our lives may be converted into a kind of pleasure, if it is but well timed: Life owes all its joys to this well-adapted succession; and he will never enjoy its true relish, who does not know to blend pleasure with dissipation. I ask pardon for detaining your ladyship so long—My cousin Lord Darnley has been to see, and admires my cottage.—I perceive plainly he flatters himself that you will one day make him happy. I do not presume to offer my advice; it would be imitating the savage chief, who marks out to the sun the course it is to take——but surely his respectful, uninterrupted attachment deserves your consideration. Were I not perfectly convinced of his worth and sincerity, I should bethe lastperson to speak in his behalf. The bitterness of conjugal repentance, which I have experienced, is beyond all others poignant; and happy it is ifdisunion, rather than perpetualdisagreement, results from it.I ever am your ladyship'sObliged and affectionate friend,Lucy Lee.'

'Dear Madam.

I received the honor of your letter, and find myself elevated by your notice—if there can be pride that ranks with virtues, it is that we feel from friendships with the worthy. The liberalsentiments you express, are a proof of the goodness of your heart——I have ever thought that to believe the worst is a mark of a mean spirit, and a wicked soul; at least I am sure, that the contrary quality, when it is not due to weakness of understanding, is the fruit of a generous temper. In return for your generosity, I will lay open my whole heart to you; and if in consequence I lose your esteem, I shall at least have the satisfaction resulting from a consciousness of my candour. This is a liberty I should have taken before, had it not proceeded from the timidity I felt in unbosoming myself to one whose virtues I dreaded, and in discoveringmy weaknessto one who I think hasnone of her own. Your ladyship knows the trials I suffered for many years; my conduct under the severest mortifications human nature could sustain. I was wounded in my affections, condemned and insulted in my person, impoverished in my circumstances: I still had strength of mind to regulate myself so as to meet your approbation: no species of calamity was unknown to me, nor were there wanting those of the other sex, who judged from my situation they might have a chance of succeeding with me, if I was weak enough to listen to them—but they soon gave up the pursuit, judging the excess of my misfortunes had hardened my heart entirely against certain impressions. But this was so far from being the case, that my sorrows, my sufferings, rendered my heart (naturally tender) more susceptible of that refined passion, which, when dignified by respect, and softened by tenderness, found so ready access to it[24].

In short, circumstanced as I was, if it is a crime to love, I am very culpable! but had I unfortunately proceeded to any act contrary to my engagements with Mr Lee, I myself would have acquainted him with it, though, in the opinion of many, he would not have deserved so much candour from me.

This being the real state of the case, I flatter myself your ladyship will think me moreweakthanwicked, morefrailthanculpable, moreunfortunatethanindiscreet. And I must now acquaint you, that I am determined never to return to my husband—I have consulted my reason on this subject, and when we have done so, whatever the decision be, whether in favour of our prejudices, or against them, we must rest satisfied, since nothing can be more certain than this, that he who follows that guide in the search of truth, as that was given to direct him, will have a much better plea to make for his conduct, than he who has resigned himself implicitly to the guidance of others. My maxim is, our understanding,properlyexercised, is themediumby which God makes known hiswillto us; and that in allcases, the voice of impartial reason is thevoice ofGod. Were my marriage even to be annulled, all the theologians in the world could not prove the least impiety in it.—Milton wrotethe doctrine and discipline of divorce; wherein he proves, that a contrariety of mind, destructive of felicity, peace, and happiness, are greater reasons of divorce than adultery, especially if there be no children, and there be a mutual consent for separation.

He dedicated the second edition to the parliament of England, with the assembly of divines——The latter summoned him before the house of Lords, who, whetherapproving his doctrine, or not favouring his accusers, dismissed him. Necessary and just causes have necessary and just consequences: what error and disaster joined, reason and equity should disjoin.

I see no reason why those who upon the evidence of more than fourteen years experience are unsuited to each other,joinednotmatched, should live disagreeably together, and exist miserably—merely for the inadequate satisfaction of exulting upon the degree of their patience in having to say they didnot part. A person may mistake in fixing love without knowledge of the party, but he cannot err that finds cause to dislike from woeful experience. It is, indeed, convenient for the lords of the creation to inculcate another doctrine, upon the same principles that the extreme and timorous attention to his own security made James I. very anxious to infuse into his subjects the belief of divine hereditary right, and a scrupulous unreserved obedienceto the power which God had set over them. Mr Villars, who is now reconciled with my husband, has written to intercede in his behalf, assuring me of his penitence and affection. Boileau has observed, that it is an easy matter in aChristian poemforGodto bringthe devil to reason. Could I believe that all my husband did, were the effects of love, it would not in the least alter my resolution, since I should consider a person whose affection had such dreadful effects, as dangerous to my repose, as one whose anger was implacable.——What signifies it to me whether it be love or hatred by which I suffer, if the danger and inconvenience be the same? I am certain were we to live together again, whenever we met we should as naturally quarrel as the elephant and the rhinoceros. Reconciliations in the marriage state, after violent breaches, are seldom lasting, and after what has passed between us, like the father of the gods and the queen of heaven, we shall be the best company whenasunder.

He says his conduct proceeded from an excess of love! I desire to be subject no more to such excesses! I am content to be moderately beloved; nor shall I ever again give occasion for such extraordinary proofs of affection. Were I to act otherwise, it would afford too much encouragement for the men to use their wives ill.Too good subjects are apt to make badkings.He has my consent to live with any woman who can delight in such aloving husband, while I will force him to esteem my conduct, and irritate his animosity by declining a reconciliation. We are tired with perpetual gratitude, and perpetual hatred.——He wishes to be reconciled to me, not from any religious motive, or return of affection, his animosity being still the same—but because he is tired of acting the part of a provoked husband.

I am piqued at Mr Villars's interesting himself in this matter. I shall not answer his letter for a week; I mistrust my own vivacity.

Our imagination is often our greatest enemy: I am striving to weary mine before I act. Business like fruit hath its time of maturity, and we should not think of dispatching it while it is half ripe. The Cardinal de Retz said, 'I have all my life-time held men in greater esteem for what they forbore to do on some occasions than for what they did.'

I have here a most delightful dwelling——It is thatched, and covered on every side with roses, wood-bines, and honey-suckles, surrounded with a garden of the most artful confusion. The streams all around murmur, and fall a thousand ways. A great variety of birds are here collected, and are in high harmony on the sprays. The ruins of an abbey enhance the beauties of this place: they appear at the distance of four hundred yards from the house; and as some great trees are now grown up among the remains, and a river winds among the broken walls, the view is solemn, the picture fine. Here I often meditate on my misfortunes.

'There is a joy in grief when peace dwellsin the breast of the sad.'Ossian'sPoems.

'There is a joy in grief when peace dwellsin the breast of the sad.'Ossian'sPoems.

Sadness receives so many eulogiums in the scripture, that it is easy to judge, that if it be not of the number of thevirtues, it may be usefully employed in their service——and it may be truly observed, that without experiencing sorrow, we should never know life's true value.

About a mile above the house is a range of very high hills, the sight of which renders me less incredulous of the accounts of Olympus, and mount Athos. Hygeia resides here,and dispenses the chief blessings of life, ease and health. I will pass my days in sweet tranquillity and study.

'In either place 'tis folly to complain,The mind, and not the place, creates the pain.'Horace, lib. i. epist. 14.

'In either place 'tis folly to complain,The mind, and not the place, creates the pain.'Horace, lib. i. epist. 14.

Could I flatter myself I should ever be honored by your presence, how happy I should be!—--Your eye, I am sure, would catch pleasure while it measures the surrounding landscape (even at this season of the year) of russet lawns and grey fallows, on which stray the nibbling flocks: the mountains too, which seem to support the labouring clouds, add sublimity to the charming scene. When I take a walk after a sedentary occupation, I feel a sensible pleasure; rest in its turn becomes agreeable, if it has been preceded by a moderate fatigue. Every action of our lives may be converted into a kind of pleasure, if it is but well timed: Life owes all its joys to this well-adapted succession; and he will never enjoy its true relish, who does not know to blend pleasure with dissipation. I ask pardon for detaining your ladyship so long—My cousin Lord Darnley has been to see, and admires my cottage.—I perceive plainly he flatters himself that you will one day make him happy. I do not presume to offer my advice; it would be imitating the savage chief, who marks out to the sun the course it is to take——but surely his respectful, uninterrupted attachment deserves your consideration. Were I not perfectly convinced of his worth and sincerity, I should bethe lastperson to speak in his behalf. The bitterness of conjugal repentance, which I have experienced, is beyond all others poignant; and happy it is ifdisunion, rather than perpetualdisagreement, results from it.

I ever am your ladyship'sObliged and affectionate friend,

Lucy Lee.'

Lady Frances returned Mrs Lee immediately the following answer.


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