Madam,Venice.On my arrival at this place, I found that, on the report of my death, my father had consigned over his estate to a near relation of mine—who knew me at once, though so emaciated, and has acted in the most honorable manner to me. My father has retired to La-Trappe in France: thither my duty must lead me, previous to the happiness I shall receive in throwing myself at your feet.Were I disposed to draw the most engagingportraitimaginable, I could easily find a subject; but as you may possibly wish for an intimate acquaintance with the original, I shall omit the attempt, since it would be difficult for you to obtain it from that principle in human nature which makes us strangersto ourselves.I shall detain your ladyship no longer, than to request you will inform my friend, your brother, that I am mortified to be unable to deliver his letter to Mademoiselle de Querci—no such person can be found.Need I paint that passion I have given you such proofs of?—No; all descriptions would fall short of my feelings. I will ever yield to every wish your soul can form; you are entirely absolute, unless you should attempt impossibilities, amongst which I reckon this as the greatest—for me to breathe a moment without being entirely and inviolably yours.De Villeroy.
Madam,Venice.
On my arrival at this place, I found that, on the report of my death, my father had consigned over his estate to a near relation of mine—who knew me at once, though so emaciated, and has acted in the most honorable manner to me. My father has retired to La-Trappe in France: thither my duty must lead me, previous to the happiness I shall receive in throwing myself at your feet.
Were I disposed to draw the most engagingportraitimaginable, I could easily find a subject; but as you may possibly wish for an intimate acquaintance with the original, I shall omit the attempt, since it would be difficult for you to obtain it from that principle in human nature which makes us strangersto ourselves.
I shall detain your ladyship no longer, than to request you will inform my friend, your brother, that I am mortified to be unable to deliver his letter to Mademoiselle de Querci—no such person can be found.
Need I paint that passion I have given you such proofs of?—No; all descriptions would fall short of my feelings. I will ever yield to every wish your soul can form; you are entirely absolute, unless you should attempt impossibilities, amongst which I reckon this as the greatest—for me to breathe a moment without being entirely and inviolably yours.
De Villeroy.
It may here be, perhaps, proper to inform the reader of what perhaps his own sagacity may have made him anticipate—The Duke de Salis had neither been able, by intreaties or threats, to compel the Countess de Sons to marry him, though he had given out that she had; this induced him to keep both her and his daughter closely confined. It has been already related, how he had consigned over his son as a house-breaker;—when he found him condemned to the gallies—like the cruel inconsistency of anAdmiral's[40]judges—he laid himself under the necessity of declaiming the equity of his own sentence—and when he found the decree against his son was inevitable—unable to bear the reproaches of his inward monitor, and listening to the whispers of a gloomy disposition, he became almost frantic—In this situation of mind, torn with the agonies of grief, he became more careless of his ward—and the Countess and Julia escaped from him—After his conduct to his son—they trembled lest in some act of despair he should on some future occasion equal the past scene, whichchilled them with horror—The Countess was seized with the small-pox, which altered her features considerably, without impairing her beauty; this circumstance facilitated their eluding all search after them from the Duke, as Julia wore men's clothes; and they supported themselves by the sale of jewels.
The intelligent reader now perceives, that Mademoiselle Querci and her brother, were no other than the Countess de Sons and Julia, whom Lord Munster had met at Venice.
When the Duke de Salis retired to La-Trappe, the Countess de Sons appeared, and took possession of her fortune. She had remained constantly and sincerely attached to Lord Munster was flattered by his attentions at Venice, and found her esteem increased by the regard he paid to his pre engagements; but would not at that time discover herself, fearing that she only flattered herself that he saw her with the eyes of affection, and lest the small-pox had madesuchan alteration, as might change hissentiments. Upon the Marquis de Villeroy's arrival in Italy, she was highly charmed to receive a letter from Lord Munster addressed to Mademoiselle de Querci, and determined to accompany him and Julia to England; but this was carefully concealed, to render the discovery more pleasing.
In the mean time, the family at Munster-house passed their time most agreeably, though Lord Munster, Sir Harry Bingley, and Mrs Lee, (who knew nothing of Mr Villars) often were melancholy anddistrait.
Lord Munster made great preparations to celebrate the anniversary of Lady Darnley's wedding-day: on which occasion a number of buildings were added to those already mentioned on the pleasure-grounds—As all the best artificers were on the spot, these were executed in the ablest manner. One temple he finished without the inspection of any one.
On the morning of the masquerade, walking out with Sir Harry Bingley, he told him he should be glad to have his opinion of it. In this temple was painted thecataractof the river Dahl, which he had drawn on the spot[41]—the cottage where Miss Harris resided—and herself at work, in the same way in which he saw her, with her lovely boy playing beside her (Miss Harris had permitted Lord Munster to draw her picture, and he had fortunately taken an exact likeness)—Sir Harry Bingley started at beholding it, and exclaimed, 'It is her, it is, by Heaven, it is her! What artist drew the picture? it is, it is herself!'—he then sunk almost motionless in a chair!—Lord Munster carelessly answered—'Bingley, are you mad? That picturecannotconcern you; I painted it from life! Where did you see her? Answer but that question, and I am gone, gone that instant; the world should not detain me!' 'It is, it is, my Lord, the lovely woman I told you of. But her graces were yet more charming still than her beauty! an external glare of beauty maycaptivate the eye, and ravish the sight; but it is the graces that win the heart, that powerfully attract every faculty of a kindred mind!—I loved her, and was beloved! She loved my person, not my fortune. Her tenderness, her affection were my only joy!' 'Why then, replied Lord Munster, did you leave her? but make yourself easy on her account; she can be nothing to you; I expect her soon in England.'—'In England!'—'Yes, Sir,in England, I fancy by this time she is married to my friend Ogilby.' 'Lord Ogilby!' 'Yes; he was passionately in love with her: she absolutely refused him; but it is not likely, possessing such beauty, such perfections—slighted by the author of her exclusion from every dear and valuable claim in society, relations, friends, reputation, and protection—that she should continue deaf to the earnest solicitations ofanother, who can restore her to these advantages—such a man as Ogilby, a tender lover, who would sacrifice his time and fortune to her, and who promised he would bea father to her boy.'
Sir Henry's senses appeared suspended.—He at last repeated, 'Distraction, madness, fury! But, by the great God of Heaven—he shall not be afather to my boy!' The agitation of his spirits rendered him almost unintelligible: Lord Munster could only understand that he intended to set out directly—he therefore dissuaded him from it—telling him, that if he refused staying that day (on which he meant to mark his respect to Lady Darnley) that he must renounce his friendship for ever! 'My Lord, returned he, I honor, I love you; your virtues demand the first, your amiable engaging qualities the last; but were you God instead of man you should not detain me!—A few hours may render her the wife of the happy Ogilby! There is damnation in that thought!'—As Lord Munster had contrived an agreeable surprise to Sir Henry—and Miss Harris and her child were actually arrived, and concealed at Mr Burt's, who had taken a separate house, for retirement,—it was necessary he should detain him; and as he had forgot to ask where there scene representedwas, he availed himself of that circumstance, saying, 'Since, Sir, I cannot command yourcomplaisance, I may at least enforce yourobedience, for you know notwhereto go, without I tell you—and my lips shall be sealed upfor ever, unless you pass this night here—If in the morning you choose to set off, I will instruct you in every particular.' In the time Lord Munster was enjoying Sir Harry's happiness—some of his friends were equally engaged for him. The Countess de Sons and Julia, the Marquis de Villeroy, Mr Villars, and Mr Worthy, came to London before the masquerade—Mr Villars wrote to Lord Darnley, acquainting him privately with their arrival, and it was agreed in return they should all make their appearance on that occasion.
This entertainment was executed equal to the munificence and taste of Lord Munster—and as it was given entirely in honor ofLady Darnley, the principal objects in his arrangements had a reference to her. Never was parental affection more fondly evinced, never was filial gratitude more entire.—It has been already observed, that nothing was ever more elegantly planned than Munster Village, the farm adjoining, and the pleasure-grounds which lead to the house: in the farm you wandered from variety to variety; buildings of great utility and much fancy, groves inspiring different sensations, from the lucid summits that wake the mind to gaiety, to the dark brown orclair obscureof trees crowding their branches together in the vale, which possess the soul with home-felt contemplation.
Above three hundred of the nobility and people of fashion in the neighbourhood were invited. Lord and Lady Darnley, Lord Munster, Lady Eliza, and Mr Worthy, were the only people unmarked. They received the company in the temple of Minerva, which faced a fine piece of water, on which there is an island. The river represented the Styx[42], the island Elysium, and Charon ferried over passengers. His boat landing, the names of Demosthenes, Aristotle, Pindar, Plato, Apelles, Phidias, and Praxiteles, were announced to Lady Darnley—They were all dressed in Grecian habits. Demosthenes, in an elegant harangue, acquainted her, that the wise Minos had indulged them in their request, of taking that opportunity of doing homage to her superlative merit, and to return her thanks for reviving their memories in the encouragement she gave to the arts and sciences, as under her patronage the Muses had made Munster Village their capital seat. He then expatiated on the advantages she had procured to society—the influence of the philosophic spirit in humanizing the mind, and preparing it for intellectual exertion and delicate pleasures—in exploring, by the help of geometry, the system of the universe—in promoting navigation, agriculture, medicine, and moral and political science. Lady Darnley (thoughtotally unprepared, being ignorant of her nephew's plans) made a very ready and polite answer, returning them thanks for the honor they did her, which (she said) as it could afford them no otherpleasure, than that ofobliging, rendered the obligation greater. Demosthenes replied, that great geniuses are always superior to their own abilities.
Some time after Charon was observed to land some passengers in Roman habits; they proved to be Cicero, Lucretius, Livy, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Varro, Tibullus, and Vitruvius. Cicero advancing, made Lady Darnley a speech similar to that of Demosthenes—as like thoughts will be ever born of the like subjects, by people who live in corresponding periods of theprogression of manners. In such cases some considerablesimilarityof expression may be occasioned by the agency ofgeneral principles. Lady Darnley made a gracious reply, intimating her small merit, and the apprehensions she felt that physical causes might impede her good intentions; that her powers had been limited; but that she was far from thinking with Boileau, that wherever there is a Mæccenas, a Virgil or an Horace will arise, (curtsying to these gentlemen.) Cicero observed to her the happiness she enjoyed in living at aperioddistinguished by men of such shining abilities in every department!
Lady Darnley answered, that he honored her countrymen very much: that she acknowledged we have at present very able men in every department; but that in morality she was afraid we have refined more upon thevicesof the ancients thantheir virtues, and she could not help questioning whether there was any minister, magistrate, or lawyer, now in Europe, who could explain the discoveries of Newton, or the ideas of Leibnitz, in the same manner as the principles of Zeno, Plato, and Epicurus, had been illustrated at Rome[43].
He thanked her for her polite compliment, and retired with his companions.
They were succeeded by Italians, who were announced Lawrence de Medicis, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, Ariosto, and Tasso. Lawrence de Medicis expressed his happiness from having been permitted the honor of paying his respects to her, and admiring the works of her creation, and complimented her in thename of his friends for the encouragement she had afforded the arts.—She said, the applause of the worthy is too valuable to be received with indifference; but still modestly declined the praises bestowed on her, saying, she had endeavoured to followhisexample, although the imitation wasa faint one; and that the only commendation she aspired to was fromthe attempt. That without her assistance, she made no doubt, if physical causes did not prevent it[44], that the society for the encouragement of arts, manufactures, and commerce in London, is well calculated to diffuse a spirit of taste in this nation—a society, which, without neglecting what tends more immediately to the improvement of agriculture, and the necessary arts of life, gives the most honorable encouragement to those which are elegant and ornamental. Had such a society been instituted fifty years ago, London, perhaps by this time, would have been the grand seat of the arts, as it is the envied seat of freedom.
Michael Angelo, that celebrated restorer of the arts of painting, sculpture, and architecture, expressed how infinitely he was charmed with Munster Village[45].—'What is really beautiful, said he, does not depend either upon fashion, or times; there may bedifferent waysof expressing things in different ages; but there can onlybe oneof conceiving them properly.' The temple, in which they were, was adorned with the paintings of Raphael[46], copied by an able artist. Lady Darnley, pointing to these, (and addressing him) said 'There is proof how much we fall short, how faintly we copy originals!'—Raphael replied, that her ladyship did him much honor; the pieces she had selected, had met with the suffrage of the public; but that, in his own acceptation,the cartoonswere the best of his performances—which he apprehended a juster prevailing taste at present condemned: Otherwise the father of his people, approved of by Minos—so good so indulgent a prince tohis subjects—would not lock them up from public observations.—Lady Darnley was here quite at a loss; she blushed, hesitated, unwilling either to refuse her sovereigntasteorphilanthropy!
Lawrence de Medicis perceiving her situation, in pity of her confusion, retired with his company.
Charon again landed a groupe of figures; their dress declared them English, of the reign of King Charles II—They proved to be the Duke of Buckingham[47], Sir William Petty, Mr Dryden, Mr Locke, Mr Waller, etc. The Duke addressed Lady Darnley with that polite address peculiar to himself in his age, and which has since been sedulously studied, to the prevention of qualities which it should only be the harbinger of—he expatiated on her merit; that she had obliged the whole nation, as every one individual might receive improvement or pleasure by her means.—Lady Darnley returned him a most gracious answer, still intimating her apprehensions, that the arts perhaps were not likely to thrive in this soil, where our pursuits, opinions, and inclinations, vary with the weather—that the declension of letters after the reign of Charles II. but too fully justified her opinion.—The Duke answered her, that indeed that was the common and received opinion, and that the reign she mentioned was the Augustan age in England; but that he had the honor to assure her, that a just taste was by no means then formed.—The progress of philological learning, and theBelles Lettreswas obstructed by the institution of the Royal Society, which turned the thoughts of men of genius to physical inquiries.—To that body we were indebted for the discoveries relating to light, the principle of gravitation, the motion of the fixed stars, the geometry of transcidental qualities; but that it was left to her ladyship to revive the agreeable arts, for which her name must be handed down to posterity with honor.
The following dialogue ensued between Charon and a Beau.
Beau.—I have seen all parts of the world, and should like to take a view of Elysium, being rather tired of this side of the Styx.[48]Mercury to Charon.—He is too frivolous an animal to present to the wife Minos!Charon.—Minos, Sir, knows nothing ofthe graces—but if you please I will row you to the infernal regions.Beau.—With all my heart, I believe I shall meet more people of fashion there[49]; but, good master Charon, in what way shall I pass my time?Charon.—If you are fond of doing nothing (a favourite passion with many fine gentlemen) Theseus will readily resign his seat to you: or if it is your genius, like many others, to choose to be,'Though without business, yet in full employ,'you may join Sisyphus, or accompany the Danaides.Beau.—Neither of these will suit me;idlenessisinsipid, and Idetest business! But are there no public places?Charon.—O! yes; great variety: each person in that place pursues those inclinations, whereby he had been swayed, or had rendered himself remarkable here on earth.Beau.—There are fine women then, of course?Charon.—As to women, no seraglio in the world comes up to it; as a part of whatever the world, since its creation, has ever yet produced, of lovely and enchanting amongst women are there assembled.—There you may view and gaze, with admiration, upon Helen, whose bewitching charms were so destructive to the family, the city, and the empire of King Priam.—On each side of her are Galatea, and Bressis, Lais, Phryne, and thousands more—There also you may behold in all their charms, in the full lustre of attraction, and decked in every grace, some of those happy fair-ones, whom the greatest poets, so lavish in their praise, have in their lays immortalised; such, amongst many others, are the Corinna of Ovid, the Lydia of Horace, the Lesbia of Catullus, the Delia of Tibullus, the Licoris of Gallus, and the Cynthia of Propertius.Beau.—I will go; I am enchanted with the idea of seeing thesedear creatures.—But I will shiver the wheel and distaff of the Destinies against the wall, and spoil their housewifery—I'lltake their spindle, where hang the threads of human life like beams driven from the sun, and mix them all together, kings and beggars! But hark'ee, master Charon, is there good music? I cannot do well without music!Charon.—There are all kinds of concerto's and opera's, both vocal and instrumental, executed by the verybestof the Italians, and the most celebrated voices from every part of the world. There are various pieces performed in all languages, and in all kinds of taste, for the universal satisfaction of the audience. Those who have a taste for ancient music, will be more gratified than they can be in Tottenham-street[50]. They will hear with admiration the gentle flute of Marsius, be ravished with the thorough-bass of Stentor, and expire with delight at the thrilling note of Misurus's trumpet.Beau.—All this is charming; but what sort of a table is kept? One cannot altogether live onloveandmusic, though one mustlanguishandexpirewithout them, as wellas with them!Charon.—If you are fond of good cheer, you have nothing to do but to pay a visit to Tantalus. Are you thirsty? The Styx, the Cocytus, and the Phlegethon present their waves to your acceptance.Beau.—I should indeed rather prefer the nectar of the Gods—but as I shall not stay long (for I make it a rule never to stay long in a place) water may suffice!Charon.—It would have been as easy to have escaped from the Labyrinth of Dædalus, as the infernal regions!Beau.—I have always (though as wild as March, and inconstant as April) been a favourite with the fair! Ariadne procured for her Theseus a means of escape.Charon.—I make no doubt, from your conversation, that you are not only the favourite, but the blessed Adonis of all the women: butthatwill avail you nothing. Lucifer, the unpitying Lucifer, though you should promise to offer him every day three hundred bulls in sacrifice[51], would not lend you even one of the smallest of his imps to help you to get out.Beau.—Did not Hercules escape from it, and carry Cerberus along with him? Did not Æneas (with the assistance ofthe golden bough, and led by the Cumæan Sybil) take the same journey to pay a visit to his father? Why may not I, like Orpheus, go to visit it while living?Charon.—Orpheus was particularly indulged, and Eurydice restored to him on account of his charming voice, and the delightful music of his lyre! You have no such pretensions. But Alecto, Megara, and Tysiphone, will receive you graciously and open the gates ofTartarusto you. The least of your exploits will entitle you to their attentions:—they are too good, too reasonable, too indulgent to require from you the very great pains you have taken, through the whole course of your life, to recommend yourself to them.Beau.—Let us go then, old boy! I will try what a little flatterywill do with them! I cansay with Cæsar, I wonder what fear is!—(Aside) But my heart plaguily misgives me forall that! but in my circumstances I must change for the better; my money is gone; and as I never gamed, I cannot expect theclub,or the waiters at the club, to makea subscription for me!
Beau.—I have seen all parts of the world, and should like to take a view of Elysium, being rather tired of this side of the Styx.
[48]Mercury to Charon.—He is too frivolous an animal to present to the wife Minos!
Charon.—Minos, Sir, knows nothing ofthe graces—but if you please I will row you to the infernal regions.
Beau.—With all my heart, I believe I shall meet more people of fashion there[49]; but, good master Charon, in what way shall I pass my time?
Charon.—If you are fond of doing nothing (a favourite passion with many fine gentlemen) Theseus will readily resign his seat to you: or if it is your genius, like many others, to choose to be,
'Though without business, yet in full employ,'
you may join Sisyphus, or accompany the Danaides.
Beau.—Neither of these will suit me;idlenessisinsipid, and Idetest business! But are there no public places?
Charon.—O! yes; great variety: each person in that place pursues those inclinations, whereby he had been swayed, or had rendered himself remarkable here on earth.
Beau.—There are fine women then, of course?
Charon.—As to women, no seraglio in the world comes up to it; as a part of whatever the world, since its creation, has ever yet produced, of lovely and enchanting amongst women are there assembled.—There you may view and gaze, with admiration, upon Helen, whose bewitching charms were so destructive to the family, the city, and the empire of King Priam.—On each side of her are Galatea, and Bressis, Lais, Phryne, and thousands more—There also you may behold in all their charms, in the full lustre of attraction, and decked in every grace, some of those happy fair-ones, whom the greatest poets, so lavish in their praise, have in their lays immortalised; such, amongst many others, are the Corinna of Ovid, the Lydia of Horace, the Lesbia of Catullus, the Delia of Tibullus, the Licoris of Gallus, and the Cynthia of Propertius.
Beau.—I will go; I am enchanted with the idea of seeing thesedear creatures.—But I will shiver the wheel and distaff of the Destinies against the wall, and spoil their housewifery—I'lltake their spindle, where hang the threads of human life like beams driven from the sun, and mix them all together, kings and beggars! But hark'ee, master Charon, is there good music? I cannot do well without music!
Charon.—There are all kinds of concerto's and opera's, both vocal and instrumental, executed by the verybestof the Italians, and the most celebrated voices from every part of the world. There are various pieces performed in all languages, and in all kinds of taste, for the universal satisfaction of the audience. Those who have a taste for ancient music, will be more gratified than they can be in Tottenham-street[50]. They will hear with admiration the gentle flute of Marsius, be ravished with the thorough-bass of Stentor, and expire with delight at the thrilling note of Misurus's trumpet.
Beau.—All this is charming; but what sort of a table is kept? One cannot altogether live onloveandmusic, though one mustlanguishandexpirewithout them, as wellas with them!
Charon.—If you are fond of good cheer, you have nothing to do but to pay a visit to Tantalus. Are you thirsty? The Styx, the Cocytus, and the Phlegethon present their waves to your acceptance.
Beau.—I should indeed rather prefer the nectar of the Gods—but as I shall not stay long (for I make it a rule never to stay long in a place) water may suffice!
Charon.—It would have been as easy to have escaped from the Labyrinth of Dædalus, as the infernal regions!
Beau.—I have always (though as wild as March, and inconstant as April) been a favourite with the fair! Ariadne procured for her Theseus a means of escape.
Charon.—I make no doubt, from your conversation, that you are not only the favourite, but the blessed Adonis of all the women: butthatwill avail you nothing. Lucifer, the unpitying Lucifer, though you should promise to offer him every day three hundred bulls in sacrifice[51], would not lend you even one of the smallest of his imps to help you to get out.
Beau.—Did not Hercules escape from it, and carry Cerberus along with him? Did not Æneas (with the assistance ofthe golden bough, and led by the Cumæan Sybil) take the same journey to pay a visit to his father? Why may not I, like Orpheus, go to visit it while living?
Charon.—Orpheus was particularly indulged, and Eurydice restored to him on account of his charming voice, and the delightful music of his lyre! You have no such pretensions. But Alecto, Megara, and Tysiphone, will receive you graciously and open the gates ofTartarusto you. The least of your exploits will entitle you to their attentions:—they are too good, too reasonable, too indulgent to require from you the very great pains you have taken, through the whole course of your life, to recommend yourself to them.
Beau.—Let us go then, old boy! I will try what a little flatterywill do with them! I cansay with Cæsar, I wonder what fear is!—(Aside) But my heart plaguily misgives me forall that! but in my circumstances I must change for the better; my money is gone; and as I never gamed, I cannot expect theclub,or the waiters at the club, to makea subscription for me!
Two peers and a baronet applied to Charon, to ferry them over to Munster-house: but Mercury again interfered, telling Lord C——d that although he had been thought in the world not to have beensans quelque goûtin thebelle maniere, and had been an encourager of theBelles Lettres, yet as Minos only permitted them to come back to the world (in the present case) to do honor to superlative feminine merit, none but such who had paid a proper respect to the sex in their life-time could be indulged in that pleasure. But if he would burn his book (wherein he depreciates women, and considers them only as the toys of dalliance) inthe fiery billows of Phlegethon, he would intercede for him with Minos. This the peer rejecting, his brother the baronet intreated to be permitted to go in his stead; but Mercury reminded him, he had pulled down a house built by Inigo Jones, and therefore could have no pretensions to taste!
Lord L——n was ferried over by himself; and after paying his compliments to Lady Darnley, returned; when the following dialogue took place in Elysium between his lordship, and the other peer above mentioned.
Lord C——d.—— Your lordship may believe that I could have no great pleasure in seeing a woman's follies: I was onlydesirous of inquiring what they are doing at home, or in America? Did I desire to punish an enemy in the severest manner, I would inflict nothing worse upon him than to oblige him to listen to all the follies in which he has no share, and to be witness to gaieties in which he cannot partake. My heart was never dilated by the amplitude of generous principles; nothing was ever interesting to me, but in proportion as it contributed to myownparticulargratifications. Curiosity now however prevailed with me to attempt going to discover in what way they are going on, being apprehensive of the consequences of the measures formerly adopted. Whoever would deprive men of their natural rights, is an enemy to the race of men; and he that thinks it can be effectuated without universal mischief, is a stranger to the ways of Providence; the most invariable rule of which is, That nothing contradictory to its original laws shall ever be accomplished, either of a physical or moral nature, without bringing ruin on that people which has instituted it. How few are capable of distinguishing the good and pernicious effects which will follow the instituting a new law, before it is enacted! To remedy present evils, they make a law which brings greater mischiefs along with it, though imperceptible to their shallow capacities. No two understandings on earth are more different than a judicial and legislative; many men enjoy the first, who have not the least emanation of the second. When a law is to be founded, which depends on the first principles in human nature, there genius only can effectuate any discovery of truth; the mind must dart forward into futurity, from the principles which it knows in human nature: a genius of quite a different kind from that of distinguishing between right and wrong in any particular case. The first only can form the legislator, and plan laws of utility and public good, the latter decide of the consequences of them when they are made. The one capacity is the most rare, most excellent and beneficial blessing bestowed on man; the other to be found in almost all mankind, or attainable by habit, yet useful when confined to its proper sphere of action, and not permitted to rove, with the imagination of the superiorfew, amongst the regions of exalted genius.
Lord L——n.—— It is not enough, my Lord, that the English are amiserable, they render themselves aridiculouspeople: And, after all the noise the brawlers make in the lower house, they only fight the battles, aid the wishes of the Americans, and exaltthe triumph of the French! In private life it is reckoned a good expedient, for the sake of an easy, quiet life, to be patient and submissive under what are supposednecessary evils: but I differ so much from this maxim, that I am convinced those will ever betrod uponwhocreep; and that certain submissions derogatory to a sense of honor in an individual or the nation, neverprevent the blow, though it may beprotractedfor a reason, in order to lay it on with a redoubled force at a time our strength is weakened, and that we are debilitated by our mortifications and a sense of the submissions we have made injurious to the honor of an individual or the pride of the nation. It is a mortifying area, but must have its place in the annals of this disgraced kingdom, whilst extravagance and every species of gaieties daily increase.
I am sorry to acquaint your Lordship, that the publication of your book has given in England the same wound to morality and business as the publication ofthe spirit of lawshas given in France to the monarchical constitution. The English study nothing now but theGraces. Procrastination is theton, because any thingabrupt is ungraceful. The increase of manners has always been thought as imperceptible as the hand of a clock, which though in constant motion cannot be distinguished inthat motion. But your book has occasioned a more rapid change: your countrymen having exchanged thearmour of Marsfor theamours of Venus, theirgreatness of mindandmagnanimityfortrifling pursuits; and, instead of speaking forcibly in the senate, they whine a tale of love in the ear of their mistresses: having descended suddenly, like skilful musicians, from theforteand thepomposoto thepiaand thepianissimo. Refinement will bring us back to barbarity—far be it from me to suppose such an event can happen suddenly; but in the course of a few years, I make no doubt, as a man in days of yore that could readhad the benefit of clergy, so will a man be esteemed an able minister, or an expert negotiator of business, if he can write a pretty sonnet—or dance a good minuet.
Lord C——d.—— The graces, my lord, I still say, the graces for ever—and as to dancing, can there be any science more useful for a minister to learn—to figureoutwith a good grace, never tolose time, and not even to nod, instead ofsleeping a century?[52]
Two other passengers applied to Charon to ferry them over the Styx, Homer and Ossian.
Mercury told Charon that he might carry Homer to Olympus, and place him with the Demigods; but he could not be permitted to go to Munster-house, for the same reason Lord C——d had been rejected: But Ossian had a just claim to that indulgence.
The Chief of other years being landed, addressed Lady Darnley as follows:
Ossian.——I have escaped fromthe narrow-house[53]! I have crossedCol-amon[54], O daughter of Munster, to behold thy glory. My joy returns as when I first beheld the maid, the white-bosomed daughter of strangers,Moina[55]with the dark blue eyes: ButCrimiona[56]should be thy name, for thou art the guiding star of the women of Albion, who mark no years with their deeds! Time rolls on, seasons return, but they are still unknown. Vanity is their recompence; and when their years shall have an end, no grey stone shall rise to their renown! But the departure of thy soul shall be a stream of light! A thousand bards shall sing of thy praise; and the maids of harmony, with their trembling harps, shall relate thy mighty deeds!Thy son, when the years of his youth shall arise, will raise the mould about thy stone, and bid it speak to other years! The joy of his grief will be great! Like the memory of joys that are past, pleasant and mournful to the soul. He will say, 'she will not come forth in her beauty, will move no more in the steps of her loveliness: but she will be like the rainbow on streams, or the gilding of sun-beams on the hills! She has not fallen unknown! Her fame surrounded her like light; her rays, like those of the sun, cherished all on whom they fell. Her wealth was the support of the needy; the weak rested secure in her halls! She softened at the sight of the sad; her blue eyes rolled in tears for the afflicted; her breast of snow heaved for the oppressed; and the moving of her lips assuaged their grief!—O sons of Albion, may you behold her son, like thehaloof therainbow, exhibitthe samethoughfainter colours!'Lady Darnley.—Father of heroes, dweller of eddying winds, thy praise gladdens my heart! My soul is exalted, my fame secured, by the voice of Conna[57]! Thou hast been a beam of light to latter times, asthy mighty deeds have been remembered, thoughthou hast long been a blast!Thy renown grew only on the fall of the haughty; thy foes were the sons of the guilty; but thine arms rescued the feeble!Thou wentest forth in echoing steel, and conquered the king of many isles: He brought thee his daughter Oina-moral, as an offering of peace. She was gentle as the evening breeze; her hair was of a raven black, and her bosom vied in whiteness with theCanna[58]on the Fuar-Bhean[59].—And though thy locks were young, yielded her to the hero she loved[60]! But like unto Cathmor[61]of old, I perceive the sound of thy praises is displeasing to thine ear!Ossian.—Just praise, like the water of aclear fountain, was ever pleasant to my taste; but I never rejoiced in unmerited applause, resigning thatmuddy joyto the sons of later days!It is true, O daughter of Albion, that, surrounded by the valiant in arms, I conquered the king of many isles—that he presented the maid to me in her loveliness as an offering of peace! She purpled the morn with blushes as she approached, and scattered such bright rays, as the sun might have dressed his beams with for that day's glory! But she had given her heart to another, and met my eyes of love with sorrow! In thrilling notes vibrating from her inmost soul, she conveyed to me the pangs of her heart! 'Breaker of the shield (said she) give ear unto the voice of mourning, attend to my tale, of woe—a tale,which though thy eyes of steel are used more to strike fire than shed a tear, must have that power to move thee.'My parents had seen many returning seasons with their springs, but no offspring of theirs arose. My mother lamented a disgrace, scarce known amongst the daughters of Caledonia. She consulted the cunning-man of the rock: He said, 'Daughter, be of good cheer; take the son of thine adversary that is low, rear him; thy piety will be rewarded; thou shalt have a daughter whom thoumust give him to wife!' When she declared this unto my father (as she was stricken in years) there immediately ran a smile over his face, like the little ruffling of water when a gentle breeze breathes upon the surface of a lake; but he adopted Tonthormid, and some moons after I came forth as a flower; but as the bud, hit with an envious worm ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, or dedicate his beauty to the sun, dies, so shall I soon fly away as a shadow. Not the white down that decks the silver swan is more unlike the sooty raven's back, than my lover from the rest of his sex. Bred up with him, my first accents were attuned to love; he took delight in my infantine caresses. Time ran on with its years—My father corrected my tenderness; and I became sensible of my error as soon as I was conscious of my feelings. Tonthormid also, from our inequality of fortune, tried to suppress his passion, judging what was then a lambent fire, would soon blaze into a flame! True love, like the lily of the vale, is fond of concealment; but, as the fragrancy of the one occasions its discovery, so does the concealment of the other prove its reality! I loved and was beloved; my father saw, and approved our passion. A succession of moons had not frozen the genial current of his soul, nor repeated shocks blunted all its tenderest sensations—But we were ignorant of his intentions. When he appointed us to meet him at his cave of contemplation, the heart of Tonthormid palpitated with fear, mine with hope—we had a considerable way to go, butremained silent!—we walked through a pleasant grassy walk, shaded with rows of lime-trees, at the side of which ran along, in plaintive murmurs, a crystal brook, on the side of whose mazy and translucent stream were planted bushes of various kinds, with birds in high harmony on the sprays.Arrived at the cave, my father announced to my lover that he must prepare to accompany him to battle! Aghast he stood,silent as the midnight hour, unmoved as the statue of despair! The venerable Chief reproached him for his coldness.'Alas! said he, the din of arms is no more offensive to my ear than the murmuring of falling waters, the vernal breeze sighing through the leaves, or the melodious song of the evening nightingale; but if we should fall in battle, what will become of this lovely maid?'My father, swearing by the great Loda, promised I should be his—if we conquered—but reminded him, that'Love should be the zephyr, not the whirlwind of the soul!'Tonthormid was all rapture, while every line in my countenance, witnessed my satisfaction. We were restored to that unexpected tranquility of spirits, which naturally follows a great dejection in most minds, when the first pangs are somewhat abated—not unlike that stillness in the sky which is sometimes observed when two opposite and gentle winds have just overcome one another's motion—or like the tide at the moment of high water, before it has received the contrary direction.They set out, receiving my caresses, intermixed with smiles and tears, like an April sun shining through transient showers. They met the foe,conquered, andreturned.The feast of shells was prepared, the maids of mirth attended with their harps, and the rising sun would have beheld me Tonthormid's! The virgins envied me in the hall, my steps were strewed with flowers, and I was happiest, where a thousand are happy. The subtile air was calm from mists, and water with her curled waves swept the bounded channels of the deep; the nightingales were heard in the grove, and soothed my soul with tender tales of love; not a breeze breathed through the trees; all nature was still, as if it paid homage to our passion. But oh! my summer's day was soon turned into winter's night! Ah, soul ambition! which like water-floods, not channel bound, dost neighbours overrun!—fell violence leaped forth like thunder wrapped in a ball of fire! Thou camest with thy men of steel; I beheld thee from the clefts of the rock; terrors turned upon me, like an earthquake they shook my trembling heart! they still pursue my soul as the wind. My joy is withered; my welfare has passed away like a cloud; my comforts have been like wintersuns, that rise late and set betimes, set with thick clouds, that hide their light at noon!'Thus sang the maid in her grief, like theLus-cromicina, bending in pensive silence, a beautiful flower drooping in the shade, wanting the beams of the sun to revive it. She soon perceived my heart was not made of brass, or carved from the stony rock. Hope animated her weakened spirits, whilst the dignity of her soul irradiated every feature; the blush of modesty stole over the cheek, and the graces dwelt on her coral lips. Sweet as the dew from heaven her lovely accents fell, and moved me. She proceeded, 'I see my tears have mollified thy heart! If fame tells true, never over the fallen did thine eyes rejoice, and thou knowest the herbs on the hill![62]Restore me then to the hero that is low; my tears will refresh him, as the dew of the morning doth the green herbage!—He mocked at fear; never retired from the foe, or was ever vanquished, but by the son of Fingal! Glorious is it to thee, O hero! great will be thy renown; thou hast subdued the first of men!Were the earth his bed, a rock his pillow, his curtain heaven, with him alone could I be blessed! From a rock that weeps a running crystal, I will fill his shell cup. I'll gently raise his weakened body[63], and the murmur of this water, instead of music, shall charm him into sleep; and whilst he sleeps my cares shall watch to preserve him from the beast of prey! The fern on the heath, if cut a thousand times, represents the same figure—so is the image of my love engraved on the inmost core of my heart! I hold thethreadof his peace: can I forget its delicate texture, or that it is warped withthoseof his heart? I could grow to my hero like ivy; but like the aspenleaf I tremble, like the sensitive plant I shrink back at thy approach! Thou mayest swim against the stream with a crab, feed against the wind with the deer, but thou canst never possess my heart! Love for him, or grief, are the only passions that can fill the heart of Oinamoral! But thou mayest go forth in echoing steel and increase thy glory—or the hearts of a thousand other virgins, will beat an unison to thy sighs, and return thy passion!'Thus sung the daughter of many isles; her trembling harp was turned to mourning, and her lute into the voice of them that weep. My heart was never wrought of steel, nor hewn out of the rugged pebble; but she would have extracted honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock! My heart wastender, though myarm was strong! I resigned her to the man of her soul! But I had the supreme delight of exhaling the falling tear from the cheek of beauty, as when the pearly dew on the surface of the narcissus, and the snow-drop evaporates at the kindly instance of the solar ray. Had I been deaf to her tale of woe, I should have merited a cold chill to extinguish my flame, as if athousand winterscontractedinto one, scattered their snow and froze the very centre! No praises can be due for refraining from barbarity, unknown till the sons of refinement came into the world!Lady Darnley.—A great mind is ever tenacious of even the shadow of a favor received, but loses the idea of a benefit conferred—In what way, O first of men! shall I welcome thy approach? Wilt thou partake of the feast of shells, or be honored with the dangers of the chase?Ossian.—Chase was never to me such sport as the battle of the shields! But this is a tale of the times of old, the deeds of the days of other years; manners alter with times, as the earth by the seasons. Let the sons of Albion listen to the voice of Conna, 'Never search for battle, nor fear it when it comes.'Ossian retired, and a hangman from the assizes told Lady Darnley, that she had ruined his trade; for, all the poor of the country-side being employed in manufactures, etc. they had no inducement to steal, theft being the necessary consequence of idleness[64].The hangman retired; and Lady Darnley was addressed by a few women in tattered robes. Making an apology for their dress, they said, it was her ladyship who had condemned them to those unseemly garbs. She inquired, In what way she was culpable to them? They answered, By not only promoting industry, which was highly detrimental to their interests, but also procuring by her munificence theatrical and other entertainments for mankind, which completed their misfortunes, as it rendered ineffectual their allurements:—that they might formerly (out of the profits of their industry) have purchased annuities, like other eminent personages in the age, andlived comfortablyon thedistresses of others; but that they had always too much conscience, and too great and generous souls for that:—that they were now reduced to the alternative of removing from that part of the country, or starving where they were; and, preferring the first to the last, they had determined to go to Birmingham, where, under the auspices of the magistrates[65]of that place, they would have a good chance of succeeding in their profession; as it had always been found that recreations of some kind are necessary, and that if innocent amusements were denied, mankind would have recourse to the other.
Ossian.——I have escaped fromthe narrow-house[53]! I have crossedCol-amon[54], O daughter of Munster, to behold thy glory. My joy returns as when I first beheld the maid, the white-bosomed daughter of strangers,Moina[55]with the dark blue eyes: ButCrimiona[56]should be thy name, for thou art the guiding star of the women of Albion, who mark no years with their deeds! Time rolls on, seasons return, but they are still unknown. Vanity is their recompence; and when their years shall have an end, no grey stone shall rise to their renown! But the departure of thy soul shall be a stream of light! A thousand bards shall sing of thy praise; and the maids of harmony, with their trembling harps, shall relate thy mighty deeds!
Thy son, when the years of his youth shall arise, will raise the mould about thy stone, and bid it speak to other years! The joy of his grief will be great! Like the memory of joys that are past, pleasant and mournful to the soul. He will say, 'she will not come forth in her beauty, will move no more in the steps of her loveliness: but she will be like the rainbow on streams, or the gilding of sun-beams on the hills! She has not fallen unknown! Her fame surrounded her like light; her rays, like those of the sun, cherished all on whom they fell. Her wealth was the support of the needy; the weak rested secure in her halls! She softened at the sight of the sad; her blue eyes rolled in tears for the afflicted; her breast of snow heaved for the oppressed; and the moving of her lips assuaged their grief!—O sons of Albion, may you behold her son, like thehaloof therainbow, exhibitthe samethoughfainter colours!'
Lady Darnley.—Father of heroes, dweller of eddying winds, thy praise gladdens my heart! My soul is exalted, my fame secured, by the voice of Conna[57]! Thou hast been a beam of light to latter times, asthy mighty deeds have been remembered, thoughthou hast long been a blast!
Thy renown grew only on the fall of the haughty; thy foes were the sons of the guilty; but thine arms rescued the feeble!
Thou wentest forth in echoing steel, and conquered the king of many isles: He brought thee his daughter Oina-moral, as an offering of peace. She was gentle as the evening breeze; her hair was of a raven black, and her bosom vied in whiteness with theCanna[58]on the Fuar-Bhean[59].—And though thy locks were young, yielded her to the hero she loved[60]! But like unto Cathmor[61]of old, I perceive the sound of thy praises is displeasing to thine ear!
Ossian.—Just praise, like the water of aclear fountain, was ever pleasant to my taste; but I never rejoiced in unmerited applause, resigning thatmuddy joyto the sons of later days!
It is true, O daughter of Albion, that, surrounded by the valiant in arms, I conquered the king of many isles—that he presented the maid to me in her loveliness as an offering of peace! She purpled the morn with blushes as she approached, and scattered such bright rays, as the sun might have dressed his beams with for that day's glory! But she had given her heart to another, and met my eyes of love with sorrow! In thrilling notes vibrating from her inmost soul, she conveyed to me the pangs of her heart! 'Breaker of the shield (said she) give ear unto the voice of mourning, attend to my tale, of woe—a tale,which though thy eyes of steel are used more to strike fire than shed a tear, must have that power to move thee.'
My parents had seen many returning seasons with their springs, but no offspring of theirs arose. My mother lamented a disgrace, scarce known amongst the daughters of Caledonia. She consulted the cunning-man of the rock: He said, 'Daughter, be of good cheer; take the son of thine adversary that is low, rear him; thy piety will be rewarded; thou shalt have a daughter whom thoumust give him to wife!' When she declared this unto my father (as she was stricken in years) there immediately ran a smile over his face, like the little ruffling of water when a gentle breeze breathes upon the surface of a lake; but he adopted Tonthormid, and some moons after I came forth as a flower; but as the bud, hit with an envious worm ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, or dedicate his beauty to the sun, dies, so shall I soon fly away as a shadow. Not the white down that decks the silver swan is more unlike the sooty raven's back, than my lover from the rest of his sex. Bred up with him, my first accents were attuned to love; he took delight in my infantine caresses. Time ran on with its years—My father corrected my tenderness; and I became sensible of my error as soon as I was conscious of my feelings. Tonthormid also, from our inequality of fortune, tried to suppress his passion, judging what was then a lambent fire, would soon blaze into a flame! True love, like the lily of the vale, is fond of concealment; but, as the fragrancy of the one occasions its discovery, so does the concealment of the other prove its reality! I loved and was beloved; my father saw, and approved our passion. A succession of moons had not frozen the genial current of his soul, nor repeated shocks blunted all its tenderest sensations—But we were ignorant of his intentions. When he appointed us to meet him at his cave of contemplation, the heart of Tonthormid palpitated with fear, mine with hope—we had a considerable way to go, butremained silent!—we walked through a pleasant grassy walk, shaded with rows of lime-trees, at the side of which ran along, in plaintive murmurs, a crystal brook, on the side of whose mazy and translucent stream were planted bushes of various kinds, with birds in high harmony on the sprays.
Arrived at the cave, my father announced to my lover that he must prepare to accompany him to battle! Aghast he stood,silent as the midnight hour, unmoved as the statue of despair! The venerable Chief reproached him for his coldness.
'Alas! said he, the din of arms is no more offensive to my ear than the murmuring of falling waters, the vernal breeze sighing through the leaves, or the melodious song of the evening nightingale; but if we should fall in battle, what will become of this lovely maid?'
My father, swearing by the great Loda, promised I should be his—if we conquered—but reminded him, that
'Love should be the zephyr, not the whirlwind of the soul!'
Tonthormid was all rapture, while every line in my countenance, witnessed my satisfaction. We were restored to that unexpected tranquility of spirits, which naturally follows a great dejection in most minds, when the first pangs are somewhat abated—not unlike that stillness in the sky which is sometimes observed when two opposite and gentle winds have just overcome one another's motion—or like the tide at the moment of high water, before it has received the contrary direction.
They set out, receiving my caresses, intermixed with smiles and tears, like an April sun shining through transient showers. They met the foe,conquered, andreturned.
The feast of shells was prepared, the maids of mirth attended with their harps, and the rising sun would have beheld me Tonthormid's! The virgins envied me in the hall, my steps were strewed with flowers, and I was happiest, where a thousand are happy. The subtile air was calm from mists, and water with her curled waves swept the bounded channels of the deep; the nightingales were heard in the grove, and soothed my soul with tender tales of love; not a breeze breathed through the trees; all nature was still, as if it paid homage to our passion. But oh! my summer's day was soon turned into winter's night! Ah, soul ambition! which like water-floods, not channel bound, dost neighbours overrun!—fell violence leaped forth like thunder wrapped in a ball of fire! Thou camest with thy men of steel; I beheld thee from the clefts of the rock; terrors turned upon me, like an earthquake they shook my trembling heart! they still pursue my soul as the wind. My joy is withered; my welfare has passed away like a cloud; my comforts have been like wintersuns, that rise late and set betimes, set with thick clouds, that hide their light at noon!'
Thus sang the maid in her grief, like theLus-cromicina, bending in pensive silence, a beautiful flower drooping in the shade, wanting the beams of the sun to revive it. She soon perceived my heart was not made of brass, or carved from the stony rock. Hope animated her weakened spirits, whilst the dignity of her soul irradiated every feature; the blush of modesty stole over the cheek, and the graces dwelt on her coral lips. Sweet as the dew from heaven her lovely accents fell, and moved me. She proceeded, 'I see my tears have mollified thy heart! If fame tells true, never over the fallen did thine eyes rejoice, and thou knowest the herbs on the hill![62]Restore me then to the hero that is low; my tears will refresh him, as the dew of the morning doth the green herbage!—He mocked at fear; never retired from the foe, or was ever vanquished, but by the son of Fingal! Glorious is it to thee, O hero! great will be thy renown; thou hast subdued the first of men!
Were the earth his bed, a rock his pillow, his curtain heaven, with him alone could I be blessed! From a rock that weeps a running crystal, I will fill his shell cup. I'll gently raise his weakened body[63], and the murmur of this water, instead of music, shall charm him into sleep; and whilst he sleeps my cares shall watch to preserve him from the beast of prey! The fern on the heath, if cut a thousand times, represents the same figure—so is the image of my love engraved on the inmost core of my heart! I hold thethreadof his peace: can I forget its delicate texture, or that it is warped withthoseof his heart? I could grow to my hero like ivy; but like the aspenleaf I tremble, like the sensitive plant I shrink back at thy approach! Thou mayest swim against the stream with a crab, feed against the wind with the deer, but thou canst never possess my heart! Love for him, or grief, are the only passions that can fill the heart of Oinamoral! But thou mayest go forth in echoing steel and increase thy glory—or the hearts of a thousand other virgins, will beat an unison to thy sighs, and return thy passion!'
Thus sung the daughter of many isles; her trembling harp was turned to mourning, and her lute into the voice of them that weep. My heart was never wrought of steel, nor hewn out of the rugged pebble; but she would have extracted honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock! My heart wastender, though myarm was strong! I resigned her to the man of her soul! But I had the supreme delight of exhaling the falling tear from the cheek of beauty, as when the pearly dew on the surface of the narcissus, and the snow-drop evaporates at the kindly instance of the solar ray. Had I been deaf to her tale of woe, I should have merited a cold chill to extinguish my flame, as if athousand winterscontractedinto one, scattered their snow and froze the very centre! No praises can be due for refraining from barbarity, unknown till the sons of refinement came into the world!
Lady Darnley.—A great mind is ever tenacious of even the shadow of a favor received, but loses the idea of a benefit conferred—In what way, O first of men! shall I welcome thy approach? Wilt thou partake of the feast of shells, or be honored with the dangers of the chase?
Ossian.—Chase was never to me such sport as the battle of the shields! But this is a tale of the times of old, the deeds of the days of other years; manners alter with times, as the earth by the seasons. Let the sons of Albion listen to the voice of Conna, 'Never search for battle, nor fear it when it comes.'
Ossian retired, and a hangman from the assizes told Lady Darnley, that she had ruined his trade; for, all the poor of the country-side being employed in manufactures, etc. they had no inducement to steal, theft being the necessary consequence of idleness[64].
The hangman retired; and Lady Darnley was addressed by a few women in tattered robes. Making an apology for their dress, they said, it was her ladyship who had condemned them to those unseemly garbs. She inquired, In what way she was culpable to them? They answered, By not only promoting industry, which was highly detrimental to their interests, but also procuring by her munificence theatrical and other entertainments for mankind, which completed their misfortunes, as it rendered ineffectual their allurements:—that they might formerly (out of the profits of their industry) have purchased annuities, like other eminent personages in the age, andlived comfortablyon thedistresses of others; but that they had always too much conscience, and too great and generous souls for that:—that they were now reduced to the alternative of removing from that part of the country, or starving where they were; and, preferring the first to the last, they had determined to go to Birmingham, where, under the auspices of the magistrates[65]of that place, they would have a good chance of succeeding in their profession; as it had always been found that recreations of some kind are necessary, and that if innocent amusements were denied, mankind would have recourse to the other.
The Goddess of Folly, with her cap and bells, approached Lady Darnley; who, smiling, asked her what had procured her the honor of her company? She answered, That being excluded at all other times from these regions, it induced her to come then, where she flattered herself, for one night in her life, not to be ridiculed; as it is only Absurdity that laughs at Folly. Her ladyship replied, That none indeed were entitled to smile at another's weakness, who are conscious of their own.
Miss Bingley, by her aunt's request, was in the character of a pastoral shepherdess, and affected to by vastly coy, and a great huntress. She said she wielded the crook and the javelin with equal dexterity; and that though she was terrified at the voice or appearance of a lover, yet she made nothing of lopping off the head of a wild boar, or of thrusting a spear into the jaws of a lion. She was pursued by (James Mordaunt as) a pastoral lover. Lady Darnley told her that such swains are mighty good-natured, and never do any mischief to anybut themselves; a leap from a rock, or a plunge into a river, being their usual catastrophe.
Lord Munster walked away with Sir Harry Bingley, and shewed him, on one of the back grounds a cottage similar to that represented in the temple above-mentioned. They advanced, and saw Miss Harris, and her lovely boy playing at her feet. Sir Harry fixed his eyes, and with a peculiar wildness exclaimed, Sport not, my friend, with my sorrows!—Lord Munster assured him of thereality; but he almost swooned away at the discovery, and was perfectly enchanted with his lovely boy. Every explanation taking place to their mutual satisfaction, Mr Burt being in the secret, and some more friends, the ceremony was immediately performed, and Miss Harris was introduced that very evening, as Lady Bingley, to the family at Munster-house.
Lord Munster, leaving this happy pair, joined Lord Sombre; two ladiespassed by them, one in a habitsimilar to that Mademoiselle de Querci had wore at the masquerade at Venice: the other had assumed the figure of Diana. Struck with their majestic appearance, they followed them. The mask of the latter dropped, as if ashamed to conceal so much beauty. Lord Sombre stooping, instantly restored to her theunfaithfulguardian of her charms. The lady, covered with that agreeable confusion inherent to the sex, apologized for the trouble she had given him! He replied, he could not but acknowledge that it was a trouble to him to be the instrument of depriving the company of the sight of so much beauty. That, Sir, replied she, may be your opinion; but my intention is to see, andnot be seen. But a lady, replied his lordship, who represents Diana, would appear more in character if she could consent notto be concealed, nor to hide those beams of brightness which were designed to be the light of the world. Sir, said she, if I must support my character, it is not at all the less in my power because my mask is on, being still the moon though in eclipse—but my intention of appearing in the character of Diana, was to keep Actæon at a distance.
In the mean time Lord Munster had neither seen or heard the above conversation, the whole powers of his soul being absorbed in attention to the lady first mentioned. But what were his emotions, when he knew the well known voice of Mademoiselle de Querci! She told him, that she believed he was the gentleman who was still denominated at VeniceIl Febo del Inghilterra! He told her, it was impossible he could have any pretensions to so flattering a distinction; but intreated to know whether he could believe that he had the happiness of addressing the woman he adored, whom from motives of honor he had been induced to suppress his passion for, but which scruples on his part he had been relieved from since that period? Mademoiselle de Querci (for it was she herself) answered, that every apology he could make for his infidelity to the Countess de Sons, would only lessen him in heresteem, as, to her certain knowledge, she was still single, and fondly attached to him. Had it been otherwise (said she) my Lord, I should have cheerfullyconsentedto what I must now refuse, as I never will act in opposition to the interest of the Countess. Lord Munster, flattered at her coming to Munster-house, asked if she was perfectly sincere in the favourable hint she had given him—that nothing but his pre-engagement would have prevented her from according herself to his wishes? She answered, I desire, my Lord, you'll not judge me by your country-women; for, from what I have heard of their characters, there is no well-bred woman who ever makes any pretensions tosincerity. Does not every body say what they do not mean, and promise what they never intend to perform? and yet all of them, to a single woman, will compliment the justness of your remarks.—In Italy we are more sincere; and I now have the honor to assure you, that nothing at present occupies my thoughts, or interests me equal to your fulfilling of your engagements with the Countess de Sons, whose constancy for you demands on your part every return. In saying this, a sigh escaped Mademoiselle de Querci, which took refuge in Lord Munster's bosom—while her blushes raised hopes which her tongue denied confirming! Her lover felt a severe struggle between love and honor.—The most severe misfortune to a virtuous man is to be in such a state that he can hardly so act as to approve his own conduct. But his distraction was increased, in finding Mademoiselle de Querci had taken advantage of hisreverieto retire, with a composure thatdeceived his vigilance, and an address which prevented his distrust.—He went every where in pursuit of her, but she eluded his search.
A magician with two enchanted knights addressed Lady Eliza, who (I have already observed) was dressed as a slave attending Mrs Worthy. He told her he would unfold her future fate, and, if she would retire to a place of privacy, he would convince her, and the queen she attended, that he was very well skilled in the science of astrology. Lord and Lady Darnley; Lord Sombre, Lord Munster, and Mrs Lee begged leave to accompany them. The two knights accompanied the magician, who he said must remain enchanted until they were released by the hands of their fair mistresses. After several magical incantations, he told Lady Eliza many things concerning the Marquis de Villeroi, and Mrs Lee of Mr Villars. But he astonished Lord Munster more particularly intelling him he was aperplexed lover—but assured him that he would be soon relieved from his anxiety; and that perhaps that very evening would terminate his adventures, and render all the present company joyful! Could you do this, replied Lord Munster, I would swear you had more wit than Mercury, or his son Autolycus, who was able to change black into white!
In the mean time two ladies appeared: They were majestic in their persons, and very magnificent in their apparel. The magician, addressing himself to the company, said, if it was agreeable, he would give them ocular proofs of his art. They answered, By all means! He then presented one of the enchanted knights to Lady Eliza, the other to Mrs Lee, and Lord Munster to one of the ladies who had just appeared (in the mean time Lord Darnley had prevented the admission of other company.)—He then desired them all to unmask. The agreeable discovery this produced is not easy to give an adequate idea of; as the magician was no other than Mr Worthy; the enchanted knights, the Marquis de Villeroi, and Mr Villars; and the Lady Mademoiselle de Querci.—Mr Worthy then, addressing Lord Munster, said, Your perplexity, my Lord, now ceases:—This Lady is the Countess de Sons (whose smiles confirmed her previous conversation with him that evening.) He made his suitable acknowledgments: whilst Lord Sombre was enchanted to discover, in the Countess's companion, his lovely Diana, who had changed her dress, and proved to be Julia, sister to the Marquis de Villeroi, and justly admired by all who saw her: Her shape was as fine as the statue of the Medician Venus, of as fine a complexion as the Leda of Corregio, with a sweetness of expression that would have made Guido paint no other face, if he had been alive.
The masquerade finished, which had afforded so much amusement, and conferred so much happiness on the parties. Lady Bingley was received by Lady Darnley with the utmost complacency. It is the imperfection ofhumangoodness to make its conscious worth an argument of want of mercy to those that are deficient: but Lady Darnley had thoroughly studied the most useful of all sciences, human nature, and was ever ready to make allowances for its defects. She was the more attentive to Lady Bingley, on account of her peculiar situation; while in the effusions of her gratitude there was a dignity that commanded as much respect as if she had been conferring a favor beyond thatshe acknowledged. Her relations, who abandoned her in her adversity—when alone true friendship can prove its superiority over its shadow,worldly civility—were now eager to pay their compliments to her.
Mr Villars was the only person who appeared unhappy at this time. Mrs Lee had been hurt at never hearing from him since her husband's death, and was confirmed that his present appearance was occasioned more from a concurrence of circumstances than from his own particular desire or inclination.—It was in vain he urged, that his having absented himself from England was occasioned by her refusing to see him previous to her husband's death; which circumstance he had been unapprised of, previous to his meeting the Marquis de Villeroi at Paris.—She answered, That he had neither been a lover that had the tenderness, nor a friend that had the generosity to interest himself for her; though he must have been sensible of her partiality, from the pains she took to avoid him:—that, concerning the strange event that had occurred relative to her husband and him, she had never taken any pains to justify herself; and she thought people in general were to blame that did so; for satire is generally levelled against persons, not vices, as there are few who wish to punish what does not put them out of humour, and they make a personal affront the pretended defender of virtue. If a woman, therefore, wouldpreserve her character, this is the effectual wayof losing it, and if she hasnone to preserveshe need not tellall the worldso.—'But (said she) as I must now decline your proffered hand, the offer of which does more honor to your generosity than the acceptance would to my prudence, I shall now disclose my sentiments to you without any disguise:—I was married to a man, whom I could not look up to with a consciousness of his superior understanding or worth; his treatment of me was injurious; my feelings I with difficulty suppressed: my quick apprehension of injury, and my partiality for you, made me indulge an inclination that aggravated to me the horrors of my situation.—I loved, and was utterly incapable of divesting myself of a passion, which, although often dangerous, is always delightful.—I was punished for my temerity; the calumny I met with, I justly incurred, from the appearance I had subjected myself to. When I parted from my husband, I would on no account see you—you went abroad; your caprice now brings you back; you judge it equitable, perhaps, to restore me to that world Irelinquished on your account—but time has conquered my partiality, and, after my former experience in that state, I cannot help shuddering at a contract which nothing can dissolve but death. To me it is terrible to reflect, that it is a strangely unequal conflict, in which the man only ventures the loss of a few temporary pleasures, the woman the loss of liberty, and almost the privilege of opinion.—From the moment she's married she becomes the subject of an arbitrary lord; even her children, the mutual pledges of their affection, are absolutely in his power, and the law countenances him in the use of it—and a woman finds no redress for the indelicate abuses of an uncivil, a passionate, and avaricious, an inconstant, or even a drunken husband—from matrimonial decisions there is no appeal.'—Mr Villars said every thing to justify himself, adding, that the most candid mind will sometimes, under certain circumstances, deviate from itself; but it is the propertyonlyof narrow minds to persist in prejudice against conviction.—As the quarrels between lovers are the renewal of love—these differences were soon settled, agreeable to their mutual wishes.
Mr Burt testified great joy at the celebration of the nuptials of his grandson—That good man died the next day, without any complaint, with a smile of complacency on his venerable face. In an age where men of letters seem so regardless of morals—in an age where they have endeavoured to persuade mankind, with but too much success, that the virtues of the mind and of the heart are incompatible—let them cast their eyes on the character of Mr Burt—When they find so many virtues united in a man, whose understanding was both sublime and just—when they find a man of his penetration to have been a strictly moral man—they will then, perhaps, be convinced that vice is the natural effect of an imperfect understanding.