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indifferent to me; yet as my heart was perfectly difengaged, and my temper naturally eafy, I thought I could have been lefs unhappy in following my uncle's advice, than I might probably be by rejecting it: but then I must have fubmitted to an action I could not think juftifiable, in order to avoid mere external diftreffes. This would not have been philofophical. I had always been taught, that virtue was of itself fufhcient to happiness; and that those things which are generally esteemed evils could have no power to disturb the felicity of a mind governed by the eternal rule of right, and truly enamoured of the charms of moral beauty. I refolved, therefore, to run all rifques, rather than depart from this glorious principle; I felt my felf raised by the trial, and exulted in the opportunity of fhewing my contempt of the fmiles or frowns of fortune, and of proving the power of virtue to fuftain the foul under all accidental circumftances of diftrefs.

I communicated my refolution to my uncle, affuring him at the fame time of my everlasting gratitude and refpect, and that nothing fhould have induced me to offend or disobey him, but his requiring me to do what my reafon and confcience difapproved; that fuppofing the advantages of riches to be really as great as he believed, yet ftill thofe of virtue were greater, and I could not refolve to purchase the one by a violation of the other; that a falfe vow was certainly criminal; and that it would be doing an act of the highest injustice, to enter into fo folemn an engagement without the power of fulfilling it; that my affections did not depend on my own will; and that no man fhould poffefs my perfon, who could not obtain the first place in my heart.

I was furprised that my uncle's impatience had permitted me to go on thus far; but looking in his face, I perceived that paffion had kept him filent. At length the gathering ftorm burft over my head in a torrent of reproaches. My reafons were condemned as romantic abfurdities, which I could not myself believe; I was accused of defigning to deceive, and to throw myself away on fome worthless fellow, whofe principles were as bad as my own. It was in vain for me to affert that I had no fuch defign, nor any inclination to marry at all; my uncle could fooner have believed the

groffeft contradiction, than that a young woman could fo frenously refuse one man without being prepoffeffed in favour of another. As I thought myself injured by his accufations and tyranny, I gave over the attempt to mitigate his anger. He appealed to Heaven for the justice of his refentment, and against my ingratitude and rebellion; and then giving me a note of fifty pounds, which he faid would keep me from immediate indigence, he bade me leave his house, and fee his face no more. I bowed in fign of obedience; and collecting all my dignity and refolution, I arofe, thanked him for his paft benefits, and with a low curtfey left the room.

In lefs than an hour I departed with my little wardrobe to the house of a perfon who had formerly been my father's fervant, and who now kept a shop and let lodgings. From hence I went the next day to vifit my father's nephew, who was in poffeffion of the family estate, and had lately married a lady of great fortune. He was a young gentleman of good parts, his principles the fame as my father's, though his practice had not been quite agreeable to the ftrict rules of morality: however, setting afide a few of thofe vices which are looked upon as genteel accomplishments in young fellows of fortune, I thought him a good fort of man; and as we had always lived in great kindness, I doubted not that I fhould find him my friend, and meet with approbation and encouragement at leaft, if not affiftance from him. I told him my story, and the reasons that had determined me to the refufal that had incurred my uncle's difpleafure. But how was I difappointed, when, instead of the applause I expected for my heroic virtue and unmerited perfecutions, I perceived a finile of contempt on his face, when he interrupted me in the following manner: 'And

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what, in the devil's name, my dear coufin, could make a woman of your fenfe behave fo like an ideot: What! forfeit all your hopes from your un cle, refufe an excellent match, and reduce yourself to beggary, because truly y you were not in love? Surely, one might have expected better from you ' even at fifteen. Who is it pray that 'marries the perfon of their choice? For my own part, who have rather a better title to pleafe myfelf with a good fifteen hundred a year, than you

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who have not à fhilling, I found it would not do, and that there was ⚫ something more to be fought after in 'a wife than a pretty face or a genius? ‹ Do you think I cared three farthings ' for the woman I married? No, faith. 'But her thirty thousand pounds were 'worth having; with that I can pur'chafe a feraglio of beauties, and in'dulge my tafte in every kind of pleafure. And pray what is it to me whe'ther my wife has beauty, or wit, or elegance, when her money will supply 'me with all that in others? You.cou'fin, had an opportunity of being as happy as I am: the men, believe me, 'would not like you a bit the worse for 'being married; on the contrary, you 'would find, that for one who took no'tice of you as a fingle woman, twenty 'would be your admirers and humble 'fervants when there was no danger of being taken in. Thus you might ' have gratified all your paffions, made an elegant figure in life, and have 'chofen out fome gentle fwain as ro'mantic and poetical as you pleafed for your Cecifbee. The good John Trot

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husband would have been easily ma'naged, and Here my indigna

tion could be contained no longer, and I was leaving the room in difdain, when he caught me by the hand—' Nay, prithee, my dear cousin, none of these violent airs. I thought you and I had known one another better. Let

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the poor fouls, who are taught by the priests and their nurfes to be afraid ' of hell-fire, and to think they fhall go to the devil for following nature ⚫ and making life agreeable, be as outrageously virtuous as they pleafe: you have too much fenfe to be frighted at bugbears; you know that the term of · your existence is but fhort; and it is highly reasonable to make it as pleafant as poffible.' I was too angry to attempt confuting his arguments; but, burfling from his hold, told him I would take care not to give him a second opportunity of infulting my diftrefs, and affronting my understanding; and so left his houfe with a resolution never to enter it again.

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N° LXXVIII. SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 1753

PROPTER VITAM VIVENDI PERDERE CAUSAS. Juv.

NOR QUIT FOR LIFE, WHAT GIVES TO LIFE IT'S WORTH.

Went home mortified and difappointed. My fpirits funk into a dejection, which took from me for many days all inclination to ftir out of my lodging, or to fee a human face. At length I refolved to try, whether indigence and friendship were really incompatible, and whether I should meet with the fame treatment from a female friend, whofe affection had been the principal pleafure of my youth. Surely, thought 1, the gentle Amanda, whose heart ' feems capable of every tender and generous fentiment, will do juftice to the 'innocence and integrity of her unfortu nate friend; her tenderness will encou rage my virtue and animate my fortitude; her praises and endearments will compenfate all my hardships.' Amanda was a fingle woman of a moderate independent fortune, which I heard she was going to bestow on a young officer, who had little or nothing befides his commiffion, I had no doubt of her appro

bation of my refufing a mercenary match, fince flie herfelf had chosen from motives fo oppofite to those which are called prudent. She had been in the country fome months, fo that my miffortunes had not reached her ear till I myself related them to her. She heard me with politeness enough, but with a me with great attention, and answered coldnefs that chilled my very heart.

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You are fenfible, my dear Fidelia," faid fhe, that I never pretended to set ⚫ my understanding in competition with your's. I knew my own inferiority; and though many of your notions and opinions appeared to me very strange and particular, I never attempted to difpute them with you. To be fure, you know beft; but it seems to me a very odd conduct for one in your fituation to give offence to fo good an uncle; first by maintaining doctrines which but which are very contrary to the re may be very true for aught I know, 'ceived

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⚫ceived opinions we are brought up in, ⚫ and therefore are apt to fhock a com'mon understanding; and secondly, to renounce his protection, and throw yourself into the wide world, rather than marry the man he chofe for you; 6 to whom, after all, I do not find you had any real objection, nor any antipathy for his perfon.-Antipathy, " my dear!' faid I; are there not many degrees between loving and honouring a man preferably to all others, and beholding him with ab⚫ horrence and averfion? The firft is, in my opinion, the duty of a wife, a duty voluntarily taken upon her felf, and engaged in under the moft ⚫ folemn contract. As to the diffi'culties that may attend my friendlefs, unprovided state, fince they are the ⚫ confequences of a virtuous action, they cannot really be evils, nor can they difturb that happiness which is the gift of virtue. I am heartily glad, answered fhe, that you have found the art of making yourself happy by the force of imagination. I with your enthufiafm may continue; and that you may still be further convinced, by your own experience, of the folly of mankind, in fuppofing poverty and difgrace to be evils.'

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I was cut to the foul by the unkind manner which accompanied this farcafin, and was going to remonftrate against her unfriendly treatment, when her lover came in with another gentleman, who in spite of my full heart, engaged my attention, and for a while made me forget the ftings of unkindnefs. The beauty and gracefulness of his perfon caught my eye, and the politenefs of his addrefs and the elegance of his compliments foon prejudiced me in favour of his understanding. He was introduced by the Captain to Amanda as his most intimate friend, and seemed defirous to give credit to his friend's judgment by making himself as agreeable as poffible. He fucceeded fo well, that Amanda was wholly engroffed by the pleasure of his converfation, and the care of entertaining her lover and her new guest; her face brightened, and her good humour returned. When I arofe to leave her, the preffed me fo earnestly to ftay dinner, that I could not, without difcovering how much I refented her behaviour, refufe. This, however, I should probably have done, as I was

naturally difpofed to fhow every fentiment of my heart, had not a fecret with arofe there to know a little more of this agreeable ftranger. This inclined me to think it prudent to conceal my refentment, and to accept the civilities of Amanda. The converfation grew more and more pleafing; I took my fhare in it, and had more than my fhare of the charming ftranger's notice and attention. As we all grew more and more unreferved, Amanda dropt hints in the courfe of the converfation relating to my ftory, my fentiments, and unhappy fituation. Sir George Freelove, for that was the young gentleman's name, listened greedily to all that was faid of me, and feemed to eye me with earnest curiosity as well as admiration. We did not part till it was late, and Sir George infifted on attending me to my lodgings: I ftrongly refused it, not without a sensation which more properly belonged to the female than the philofopher, and which I condemned in myself as arifing from difhoneft pride. I could not without pain fuffer the polite Sir George, upon fo fhort an acquaintance, to difcover the meannefs of my abode. To avoid this, I fent for a chair; but was confufed to find that Sir George and his fervants prepared to attend it on foot by way of guard; it was in vain to dif pute; he himfelf walked before, and his fervants followed it. I was covered with blushes, when, after all this parade, he handed me in at the little fhop door, and took leave with as profound respect as if he had guarded me to a palace. A thoufand different thoughts kept me from clofing my eyes that night. The behaviour of Amanda wounded me to the foul: I found that I must look on her as no more than a common acquaintance; and that the world did not contain one perfon whom I could call my friend. My heart felt defolate and forlorn; I knew not what course to take for my future fubfiftence; the pain which my pride had juft given me, convinced me that I was far from having conquered the paffions of humanity, and that I fhould feel too fenfibly all the mortifications which attend on poverty.

I determined, however, to fubdue this pride, and called to my affiftance the examples of ancient fages and phi lofophers, who defpifed riches and honours, and felt no inconveniences from the malice of fortune. I had almost rea

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foned myfelf into a contempt for the world, and fancied myself fuperior to it's fmiles or frowns, when the idea of Sir George Freelove rushed upon my mind, and destroyed at once the whole force of my reafoning. I found, that however I might difregard the reft of the world, I could not be indifferent to his opinion; and the thought of being defpifed by him was infupportable. I recollected that my condition was extremely different from that of an old philofopher, whofe rags perhaps were the means of gratifying his pride, by attracting the notice and refpect of mankind: at least, the philofopher's fchemes and wishes were very different from thofe which at that time were taking poffeffion of my heart. The looks and behaviour of Sir George left me no doubt that I had made as deep an impreffion in his favour as he had done in mine. I could not bear to lose the ground I had gained, and to throw myfelf into a state below his notice. I fcorned the thoughts of imposing on him with regard to my circumftances, in cafe he fhould really have had favourable intentions for me; yet to difgrace myself for ever in his eye, by fubmitting to fervitude, or any low way of fupporting myself, was what I could not bring myfelf to refolve on.

In the midst of these reflections I was furprised the next morning by a vifit from Sir George. He made refpectful apologies for the liberty he took; told me he had learnt from my friend, that the unkindness and tyranny of an uncle had caft me into uneafy circumftances; and that he could not know, that fo much beauty and merit were so unworthily treated by fortune, without earnestly withing to be the inftrument of doing me more juftice. He entreated me to add dignity and value to his life, by making it conducive to the happiness of mine; and was going on with the most fervent offers of fervice, when I interrupted him by faying, that there was nothing in his power that I could with honour accept, by which my life could be made happier, but that refpect which was due to me as a woman and a gentlewoman, and which ought to have prevented fuch offers of fervice from a ftranger, as could only be justified by a long experienced friendship; that I was not in a fituation to receive vifits, and muft decline his acquaintance, which

nevertheless in a happier part of my life would have given me pleasure.

He now had recourfe to all the arts of his fex, imputing his too great freedom to the force of his paffion, protesting the most inviolable respect, and imploring on his knees, and even with tears, that I would not punish him fo feverely as to deny him the liberty of feeing me, and making himself more and more worthy of my esteem. My weak heart was but too much touched by his arti fices, and I had only juft fortitude enough to perfevere in refufing his vifits, and to infift on his leaving me, which at last he did; but it was after fuch a profufion of tenderness, prayers, and proteftations, that it was fome time before I could recall my reafon enough to reflect on the whole of his behaviour, and on my own fituation, which compared, left me but little doubt of his dishonourable views.

I determined never more to admit him to my prefence, and accordingly gave orders to be denied if he came again. My reafon applauded, but my heart reproached me, and heavily repined at the rigid determination of prudence. I knew that I acted rightly, and I expected that that confcioufnefs would make me happy: but I found it otherwise; I was wretched beyond what I had ever felt or formed any idea of; I discovered that my heart was entangled in a paffion which must for ever be combated, or indulged at the expence of virtue. I now confidered riches as truly defirable, fince they would have placed me above difgraceful attempts, and given me reafonable hopes of becoming the wife of Sir George Freelove. I was difcontented and unhappy, but surprised and difappointed to find myself fo, fince hitherto I had no one criminal action to reproach myself with; on the contrary, my difficulties were all owing to my regard for virtue.

I refolved, however, to try ftill farther the power of virtue to confer happinefs, to go on in my obedience to her laws, and patiently wait for the good effects of it. But I had ftronger difficulties to go through than any I had yet experienced. Sir George was too much practifed in the arts of feduction, to be difcouraged by a first repulfe: every day produced either fome new attempt to fee me, or a letter full of the most passionate

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proteftations and entreaties for pardon and favour. It was in vain I gave orders that no more letters fhould be taken in from him; he had fo many different contrivances to convey them, and directed them in hands fo unlike, that I was furprized into reading them contrary to my real intentions. Every time I itirred out he was iure to be in my way, and to employ the most artful tongue that ever chinared the heart of woman, in blinding my reafon and awakening my paffions.

My virtue, however, did not yet give way, but my peace of mind was utterly deftroyed. Whenever I was with him, I fummoned all my fortitude, and conftantly repeated my commands that he fhould avoid me. His difobedience called for my relentment, and, in fpite of my melting heart, I armed my eyes with anger, and treated him with as much difdain as I thought his unworthy defigns deferved. But the moment he left me, all my refolution forfook me. I repined at my fate: I even murmured against the SOVEREIGN RULER of all things, for making me fubject to paffions which I could not fubdue, yet muit not indulge: I compared my own fituation with that of my libertine coufin, whofe pernicious arguments I had heard with horror and deteftation, who gave the reins to every defire, whofe houfe was the feat of plenty, mirth, and delight, whofe face was ever covered with fimiles, and whofe heart feemed free from forrow and care. • Is not this man,' faid I, ‘ happier than I am? And if fo, where is the worth of virtue? Have I not facrificed to her my fortune and my friends? Do I not daily facrifice to her my darling inclination? Yet what is the compenfation fhe offers me? What · are my prospects in this world but poverty, mortification, difappointment, and grief? Every wish of my heart denied, every paffion of humanity combated and hurt, though never conquered! Are thefe the bleffings with which Heaven diftinguishes it's favourites? Can the King of Heaven ⚫ want power or will to diftinguish them? Or does he leave his wretched creatures to be the fport of chance, the prey of wickedness and malice? Surely, no. Yet is not the condition of the virtuous often more miserable than that of the vicious? I myself have ex*perienced that it is. I am very un

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happy, and fee no likelihood of my 'being otherwife in this world-and all beyond the grave is eternal darkness. Yet why do I fay, that I have no profpect of happiness? Does not the most engaging of men offer me all the joys that love and fortune can be tow? Will not he protect me from every infult of the proud world that fcoffs at indigence? Will not his liberal hand pour forth the means of every pleature, even of that higheft and trueft of all pleasures, the power of relieving the fufferings of my fellow-creatures, of 'changing the tears of diftrefs into tears of joy and gratitude, of communicating my own happiness to all around me? Is not this a state far preferable to that in which virtue has placed me? But what is virtue? Is not happiness the laudable pursuit of reason? Is it not then laudable to pursue it by the moft probable means? Have I not 'been accufing Providence of unkindnefs, whilft I myfeif only am in fault for rejecting it's offered favours? Surely, I have mistaken the path of virtue: it must be that which leads to happi'nefs. The path which I am in, is 'full of thorns and briars, and termi

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nates in impenetrable darkness; but I fee another that is ftrewed with flowers, and bright with the funshine of profperity: this, furely, is the path of virtue, and the road to happiness. Hither, then, let me turn my weary " steps; nor let vain and idle prejudices fright me from felicity. It is furely impoffible that I should offend GOD, by yielding to a temptation which he has given me no motive to relitt. He has allotted me a fhort and precarious existence, and has placed before me good and evil. What is good_but pleafure? What is evil but pain? Reafon and nature direct me to chufe the first, and avoid the laft. I fought for happiness in what is called virtue, but I found it not: fhall I not try the other experiment, fince I think I can hardly be more unhappy by following inclination, than I am by denying it? Thus had my frail thoughts wander. ed into a wildernefs of error, and thus had I almott reasoned myself out of every principle of morality, by pursuing through all their confequences the doctrines which had been taught me as rules of life and prescriptions for felicity, the talifmans of Truth, by which I should

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