shew how desirous I would be to oblige you, had I capacity or subject, as you have. But nobody can love you better, or admire you more, of this you may be assured, (however unequal in all other respects,) than your POLLY DARNFORD.

I send you up some of your papers for the good couple in Kent. Pay my respects to them; and beg they'll let me have 'em again as soon as they can, by your conveyance. Our Stamford friends desire their kindest respects; they mention you with delight in every letter.

LETTER XXXII.

THE JOURNAL CONTINUED.

THURSDAY, and FRIDAY Evening.

MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD,

I AM retired from a very busy day, having had no less than fourteen of our neighbours, gentlemen and ladies, to dinner with us: The occasion, principally, to welcome our noble guests into these parts: Mr B-- having, as I mentioned in a former, turned the intended visit into an entertainment, after his usual gene

rous manner.

Mr Band Lord Davers are gone part of the way with them home: and Lord Jackey mounted with his favourite Colbrand as an escort to the Countess and Lady Davers, who are gone to take an airing in the chariot. They of fered to take the coach, if I would have gone; but, being fatigued, I desired to be excused. So I retired to my closet; and Miss Darnford, who is seldom out of my thoughts, coming into my mind, I had a new recruit of spirits, which enabled me to resume my pen, and thus I proceed with my journal:

Our company was, the Earl and Countess of D, who are so fashionable a married couple, that the Earl made it his boast, and his Countess bore it like one accustomed to such treatment, that he had not been in his lady's company an hour abroad before for seven years. You know his lordship's character; every body does; and there is not a worse, as report says, in the peerage.

Sir Thomas Atkyns, a single gentleman, not a little finical and ceremonious, and a mighty beau, though of the tawdry sort, and affecting foreign airs; as if he was afraid it would not be judged by any other mark, that he had travelled.

Mr Arthur, and his lady, a moderately happy couple, who seem always, when together,

to behave as if they were upon a compromise; that is, that each would take it in turn to say free things of the other; though some of their freedoms are of so cutting a nature, that it looks as if they intended to divert the company at their own expense. The lady, being of a noble family, takes great pains to let every one know, that she values herself not a little upon that advantage; but, otherwise, has many good qualities.

Mr Brooks, and his lady. The gentleman is a free joker on serious subjects, but a good-natured man, and says sprightly things with no ill grace: The lady is a little reserved, and of a haughty turn, though to-day she happened to be freer than usual: as was observed at table by

Lady Towers, who is a maiden lady of family, noted for her wit and repartee, and who says many good things, with so little doubt, and really so good a grace, that one cannot help being pleased with her. This lady is generally gallanted by

Mr Martin of the Grove, as he is called, to distinguish him from a rich citizen of that name, who is settled in these parts, but, being covetous and proud, is seldom admitted among the gentry in their visits or parties of pleasure. Mr Martin is a shrewd gentleman, but has been a little too much of the libertine cast, and has lived freely as to women; and for that reason has not been received by Lady Towers, who hates free actions, though she'll use free words, modestly free, as she calls them; that is to say, the double entendre, in which Sir Simon Darnford, a gentleman you are not unacquainted with, takes great delight; though, by the way, what that worthy gentleman calls innocent, Lady Towers would blush at.

Mr Dormer, a gentleman of a very courteous demeanour, a widower, was another, who always speaks well of his deceased lady, and of all the sex for her sake.

Mr Chapman, and his lady, a well-behaved couple, who are not ashamed to be very tender and observing to one another, but without that censurable fondness which sits so ill upon some married folks in company.

Then there was the Dean, our good minister, whom I name last, because I would close with one of the worthiest; and his daughter, who came to supply her mamma's place, who was indisposed; a well-behaved prudent young lady. And here were our fourteen guests.

The Countess of C-, Lady Davers, Lord Davers, Mr H-, my dear Mr Band your humble servant, made up the rest of the company. So we had a capacious and brilliant circle, you may imagine; and all the avenues to the house were crowded with their equipages.

The subjects of discourse at dinner were various, as you may well suppose; and the circle was too large to fall upon any regular or very remarkable topics. A good deal of sprightly wit, however, flew about, between the Earl of DLady Towers, and Mr Martin, in which that lord suffered as he deserved; for he was by no means a match for the lady, especially as the presence of the Dean was a very visible restraint upon him, and upon Mr Brooks too: So much awe will the character of a good clergyman always have upon even forward spirits, where he is known to have had an inviolable regard to it himself.

Besides, the good gentleman has naturally a genteel and inoffensive vein of raillery, and so was too hard for them at their own weapons.

But after dinner was over, and the servants were withdrawn, Mr Martin singled me out, as he loves to do, for a subject of encomium, and made some high compliments to my dear Mr B- upon his choice; and wished (as he often does) he could find just such another person for himself.

Lady Towers told him, that it was a thing as unaccountable as it was unreasonable, that every rake who loved to destroy virtue, should expect to be rewarded with it; and if his brother Bhad come off so well, she thought no one else ought to expect it.

Lady Davers said, It was a very just observation; and she thought it was pity there was not a law, that every man who made an harlot of an honest woman, should be obliged to marry one of another's making.

That would be too severe, Mr B said: It would be punishment enough, if he was to marry his own; and especially, if he had not seduced her under promise of marriage.

Then you'd have a man be obliged to stand to his promise, I suppose, Mr B-? replied Lady

Davers.

Yes, madam.

But, said she, the proof would be difficult perhaps; and the most unguilty heart of our sex might be least able to make it out. But what say you, my Lord D, continued her ladyship; will you and my Lord Davers, join to bring a bill into the House of Peers, for the purposes I mentioned? I fancy my brother would give it all the assistance he could in the lower house.

Your ladyship, said Mr Martin, is highly unreasonable, I think, to propose that. It would be enough, surely, that a man should be obliged, as Mr B- says, to marry the woman he him

self seduced.

The Earl said, that he thought neither the one nor the other should be imposed upon any man; for that when women's virtue was their glory, and they were brought up with that notion, and to avoid the snares of men, he thought,

if they yielded, they ought to pay the forfeit, and take the disgrace of it to themselves.

May I ask your lordship, said I, how it comes to pass, that a woman's virtue is her glory, and that a man's shall not be his?-Or, in other words, Why, you think virtue in a man is not as requisite as in a woman?

Custom, madam, replied the Earl, has made it very different: and those things which are scandalous in a lady, are not so in a gentleman.

Will your lordship argue, that it should be so, because it is so? Does not the gentleman call himself the head of his family? Is it not incumbent upon him, then, to set a good example? And will he plead it as a fashion, that he may do by the dearest relatives of another man's family, what, if any one should attempt to do by his, he would mortally resent?

Very well observed, madam, said the Dean; there is not a free liver in the world, I believe, who can answer that argument.

Mr B, said the Earl, pray, speak to your lady; she is too close upon us. And where sentiments have been so well supported by a conduct so uniform and exemplary, I choose not to enter the lists with such an antagonist.

Well, well, said Mr B——, since your lordship will speak in the plural number us, let me say, We must not pretend to hold any argument on this subject-But, however, I think, my lord, you should not call upon a man to defend it, who, bad as he has been, never committed a fault of this nature, that he was not sorry for, though the sorrow generally lasted too little a while.

Mr B-, said Lady Towers, has some merit with me for that answer; and he has a still greater on another account; and that is, that he has seen his error so early, and has left his vices before they left him.

She looked, as every one did, on the Earl, who appeared a little disconcerted, as one conscious that he deserved the reflection. And the Dean said, Lady Towers observes very well; for, although I presume not to make personal applications, yet I must say, that the gentleman who sees his error in the prime of life, before he is overtaken by some awakening misfortune, may be called one of the happiest of those who have erred.

Ay, Mr Dean, said Lady Towers, I can tell you one thing, that such another buttress, as you know who, taken away from libertinism, and such another example as a certain lady every day gives, would go near in a few years to ruin the devil's kingdom in Bedfordshire.

The gentlemen looked round upon one another upon this home push; and the lady would not let them recover it. See, said she, how the gentlemen look upon one another, as who should say, each to his companion, I'm not so bad as you.

Ay, said Lady Davers, I see my Lord Davers,

and the Earl of D- and Mr Martin, look most concerned.

Faith, ladies, said Mr Martin, this is too severely personal; a man who contends with a lady has a fine time of it; for we are under restraint, while you say any thing you please. But, let me tell you, there's not a man of us all, it is my opinion, that could have attempted what a certain renegado has attempted, though he is so readily acquitted.

:

Not so hasty, my good friend, said Mr BYou don't consider well what you say, nor of whom; for did I take upon myself to censure you? But though I may challenge you to say the worst you can, because I always dealt upon my own stock, while other people I could name, entered into a society, and clubbed for mischief; yet I see you deal with a brother rake, when he reforms, as highwaymen with one of their gang, who would fain withdraw and be honest, but is kept among them by fear of an impeachment.

But is not this, ladies, said Mrs Arthur, a sad thing, that so many fine gentlemen, as think themselves concerned in this charge, should have no way to clear themselves but by recrimination? Egad, gentlemen, said Sir Thomas Atkyns, I know not what you're about! You make but sorry figures, by my faith!-I have heard of many queer pranks among my Bedfordshire neighbours; but, I bless my stars, I was in France and Italy all the time.

Said Mr Martin, Mrs Arthur spoke the words fine gentlemen, and Sir Thomas thought himself obliged to enter upon his own defence.

Ay, said the Earl; and the best of it is, Sir Thomas pleads not his virtue neither, that he did not join in these queer pranks with his Bedfordshire neighbours, but his absence.

I think, truly, said Mr Byou should take the Dean's hint, my good friends; else you'll be less polite than personal.

Well, but, gentlemen, said Lady Arthur, since you seem to have been so hard put to it, as single men, what's to be done with the married man who ruins an innocent body? What punishment, Lady Towers, shall we find out for such a one? And what reparation to the injured? This, it seems, was said with a particular view to the Earl, on a late scandalous occasion; but I knew it not till afterwards.

As to the punishment of the gentleman, replied Lady Towers, where the law has not provided for it, it must be left, I believe, to his conscience. It will then one day be heavy enough. But as to the reparation to the woman, so far as it can be made, it will be determinable as the unhappy person may or may not know, that her seducer is a married man; if she knows he is, I think she neither deserves redress nor pity, though it alleviates not his guilt. But if the case be otherwise, and she had no means of informing herself, that he was married, and he promised to make her his wife, to be sure, though she cannot be acquitted, he deserves the severest punishment that can be inflicted. What say you, Mrs B-?

If I must speak my mind, replied I, I think, that since custom, as the Earl said just now, exacts so little regard to virtue from men, and so much from women, and since the designs of the former upon the latter are so flagrantly avowed and known, the poor creature who suffers herself to be seduced, either by a single or married man, with promises, or without, has nothing to do but to sequester herself from the world, and devote the remainder of her days to penitence and obscurity. As to the gentleman, added I, he must, I doubt, be left to his conscience, as you say, Lady Towers, which he will one day have enough to do to pacify.

of?

Every gentleman, replied he, who is not of the ladies' side, is deemed a criminal; and I was always of the side that had the power of the gallows.

That shews, returned Lady Towers, that Mr His more afraid of the punishment, than of deserving it.

'Tis well, said Mr B, that any consideration deters a man of Mr H-'s time of life. What may be fear now, may improve to virtue in time.

Ay, said Lady Davers, Jackey is one of his uncle's foxes. He'd be glad to snap up a straggling pullet, if he was not well looked after, perhaps.

Pray, my dear, said Lord Davers, forbear; you ought not to introduce two different conversations into different companies.

are cases in which the fair sex deserve compassion, ours execration. Love may insensibly steal upon a soft heart. When once admitted, the oaths, vows, and protestations of the favoured object, who perhaps, on all occasions, declaims against the deceivers of his sex, confirm her good opinion of him, till, having lulled asleep her vigilance, in an unguarded hour he takes advantage of her unsuspecting innocence. Is not such a poor creature to be pitied? And what punishment does not such a seducer deserve?

You have put, sir, said I, a moving case, and in a generous manner. What, indeed, does not such a deceiver deserve?

And the more, said Mrs Chapman, as the most innocent heart is generally the most credulous.

Very true, said the Countess, for such a one as would do no harm to others, seldom suspects

any from others; and her lot is very unequally cast, admired for that very innocence which tempts some brutal ravager to ruin it.

Yet, what is that virtue, said the Dean, which cannot stand the test?

But, said Lady Towers, very satirically, Whither, ladies, are we got? We are upon the subject of virtue and honour. Let us talk of something in which the gentlemen can join with us. This is such a one, you see, that none but the Dean and Mr Dormer can discourse upon.

Let us then, retorted Mr Martin, to be even with one lady at least, find a subject that will be new to her: And that is CHARITY.

Does what I said concern Mr Martin more than any other gentleman, returned Lady Towers, that he is disposed to take offence at it?

You must pardon me, Lady Towers, said Mr B, but I think a lady should never make a motion to waive such subjects as those of virtue and honour; and less still, in company, where there is so much occasion, as she seems to think, for enforcing them.

I desire not to waive the subject, I'll assure you, replied she. And if, sir, you think it may do good, we will continue it, for the sakes of all you, gentlemen, (looking round her archly,) who are of opinion you may be benefited by it.

We are going into personals again, gentlemen and ladies, said the Earl.

And that won't bear, my lord, you seem to think? retorted Lady Davers.

A health to the King and Royal Family brought on public affairs, and politics; and the ladies withdrawing to coffee and tea, I have no more to say as to this conversation, having repeated all that I remember was said to any purpose; for such large companies, you know, my dear, don't always produce the most agreeable and edifying talk. But this I was the more willing to recite, because I thought the characters of some of our neighbours would be thereby made more familiar to you, if ever I should have the happiness to see you in these parts.

I will only add, that Miss L- the Dean's daughter, is a very modest and agreeable young lady, and a perfect mistress of music; in which the Dean takes great delight also, and is a fine judge of it. The gentlemen coming in to partake of our coffee and conversation, as they said, obtained of miss to play several tunes on the harpsichord, and would have me play too. But really Miss L- so very much surpassed me, that had I regarded my reputation for playing, above the desire I had (as I said, and truly said) to satisfy the good company, I ought not to have pretended to touch a key after such a mistress. Miss has no voice, which is great pity; and, at the request of every one, I sung to her accom

paniment, twice or thrice; as did Lady Towers, whose voice exceeds her taste. But here, miss, will I end my fourth conversation-piece.

SATURDAY Morning.

The Countess being a little indisposed, Lady Davers and I took an airing this morning in the chariot, and had a great deal of discourse together. Her ladyship was pleased to express great favour and tenderness towards me; gave me a great deal of good advice, as to the care she would have me take of myself; and told me, that her hopes as well as her brother's, all centered in my welfare; and that the way I was in made her love me better and better.

She was pleased to tell me, how much she approved of the domestic management; and to say, that she never saw such regularity and method in any family in her life, where was the like number of servants. Every one, she said, knew their duty, and did it without speaking to, in such silence, and with so much apparent cheerfulness and delight, without the least hurry or confusion, that it was her surprise and admiration: But kindly would have it, that I took too much care upon me. Yet, said she, I don't see but you are always free and lively, and never seem tired or fatigued; and are always dressed and easy, so that no company find you unprepared, or unfit to receive them, come when they will, whether it be to breakfast or dinner.

I told her ladyship I owed all this, and most of the conduct for which she was pleased to praise me, to her dear brother, who, at the beginning of my happiness, gave me several cantions and instructions for my behaviour, which had always been the rule of my conduct ever since, and I hoped ever would be: To say nothing, added I, which yet would be very unjust, of the assistance I receive from worthy Mrs Jervis, who is an excellent manager.

Good creature, sweet Pamela, and charming girl, were her common words, and she was pleased to attribute to me a graceful and unaffected ease, and would have it, that I have a natural dignity in my person and behaviour, which command love and reverence at the same time; so that, my dear Miss Darnford, I am in danger of being as proud as any thing. For, you must believe, that her ladyship's approbation gives me great pleasure; and the more, as I was afraid before she came, I should not have come off near so well in her opinion.

As the chariot passed along, she took great notice of the respects paid me by people of different ranks, and of the blessings bestowed upon me by several as we proceeded; and said,

She should fare well, and be rich in good wishes, for being in my company.

The good people, who know us, will do so, madam, said I; but I had rather have their silent prayers than their audible ones; and I have caused some of them to be told so.

What I apprehend, madam, continued I, is, that you will be more uneasy to-morrow, when at church you'll see a good many people in the same way. Indeed, added I, my story, and your dear brother's tenderness to me, are so much talked of, that many strangers are brought hither to see us. "Tis the only thing, continued I, (and so it is, miss,) that makes me desirous to go to London; for by the time we return, the novelty, I hope, will cease.

Then I mentioned some verses of Mr Cowley, which had been laid under my cushion in our seat at church, two Sundays ago, by some unknown hand; and how uneasy they have made me. I will transcribe them, my dear, and give you the particulars of our conversation on that occasion. The verses are these:

Thou robb'st my days of bus'ness and delights,
Of sleep thou robb'st my nights-
Ah! lovely thief, what wilt thou do?
What! rob me of heav'n too?

Thou even my prayers dost steal from me,
And I, with wild idolatry,

Begin to GOD, and end them all to thee.

No, to what purpose should I speak-
No, wretched heart, swell till you break!
She cannot love me, if she would:

And, to say truth, 'twere pity that she should.
No, to the grave thy sorrows bear,
As silent as they will be there :

Since that loved hand this mortal wound does give,
So handsomely the thing contrive,
That she may guiltless of it live:
So perish, that her killing thee,

May a chance-medley, and no murder be!

I had them in my pocket, and read them to my lady, who asked me if her brother had seen them. I told her it was he that found them under the cushion I used to sit upon, but did not shew them to me till I came home, and that I was so vexed at them, that I could not go to church in the afternoon.

What should you be vexed at, my dear? said she. How could you help it?-My brother was not disturbed at them, was he?

No, indeed, replied I; he chid me for being so, and was pleased to make me a fine compliment upon it; that he did not wonder, that every body who saw me, loved me.-But I said, This was all that wicked wit was good for, to inspire such boldness in bad hearts, which might otherwise not dare to set pen to paper to affront any one.

But pray, madam, added I, don't own I have told you of them, lest the least shadow of a

VOL. VI.

thought should arise, that I was prompted by some vile, secret vanity, to tell your ladyship of them; when, I am sure, they have vexed me more than enough. For is it not a sad thing that the church should be profaned by such actions, and such thoughts, as ought not to be brought into it?

Then, madam, to have any wicked man dare to think of one with impure notions! It gives me the less opinion of myself, that I should be so much as thought of as the object of any wicked body's wishes. I have called myself to account upon it, whether any levity in my looks, my dress, my appearance, could embolden such an affrontive insolence. And I have thought, upon this occasion, better of Julius Caesar's delicacy than I did when I read of it; who, upon an attempt made on his wife, to which, however, it does not appear she gave the least encouragement, said to those who pleaded for her against the divorce he was resolved upon, That the wife of Cæsar ought not to be suspected.

Indeed, madam, continued I, it would extremely shock me, but to know that any wicked heart had conceived a design upon me. Upon me, give me leave to repeat, whose only glory and merit is, that I have had the grace to withstand the greatest of trials and temptations, from a gentleman more worthy to be beloved, both for person and mind, than any man in England.

Your observation, my dear, is truly delicate, and such as becomes your mind and character. And I really think, if any lady in the world is secure from vile attempts, it must be you, not only from your story so well known, and the love you bear to your man, and his merit to you, but from the prudence and natural dignity, I will say, of your behaviour, which, though easy and cheerful, is what would strike dead the hope of any presumptuous libertine, the moment he sees you.

How can I enough, returned I, and kissed her hand, acknowledge your ladyship's polite goodness in this compliment. But, my lady, you see, by the very instance I have mentioned, that a liberty is taken, which I cannot think of without pain.

"Tis such a liberty, replied my lady, as shews more despair than hope, and is a confirmation of my sentiments on the prudence and dignity which not only I, but every body attributes to

you.

Kind, kind Lady Davers! said I, again pressing her hand with my lips. But I think I will turn my quarrel (since I know not, and hope I never shall, the vile transcriber) upon the author of the verses; for had they not been written, I should not have been thus insulted, perhaps.

Cowley, replied my lady, is my favourite poet. He has a beautiful imagination, a vast deal of brilliant wit, and a chastity too in most of his pieces, that hardly any of the tribe can boast.

U