accomplishments, no mean proficiency in the minute philosophy, after the fifth perufal of her letter, broke out with rapture into these words- And can you, Mr. Rambler, stand out against this charming creature? Let her know, at • leaft, that from this moment Nigrinus devotes his life and his labours to her fervice. Is there any ftubborn prejudice of education that ftands between thee and the moft amiable of mankind? Behold, Flirtilla, at thy feet, a man grown grey in the ftudy ' of those noble arts by which right and wrong may be confounded; by which reafon may be blinded when we have a mind to escape from her infpection; ⚫ and caprice and appetite inftated in uncontrouled command, and boundless dominion! Such a cafuift may furely engage, with certainty of fuccefs, in vindication of an entertainment which in an inftant gives confidence to the

'timorous, and kindles ardour in the cold; an enterainment where the vigilance of jealoufy has fo often been ' eluded, and the virgin is fet free from the neceffity of languishing in filence; where all the outworks of chastity are at once demolished; where the heart is laid open without a blush; where bashfulness may furvive virtue, and no wifh is crushed under the frown of modefty. Far weaker influence than Flirtilla's might gain over an advo'cate for fuch amusements. It was declared by Pompey, that, if the commonwealth was violated, he could ftamp with his foot, and raise an army out of the ground: if the rights of pleafure are again invaded, let but Flirtilla crack her fan, neither pens nor fwords fhall be wanting at the fummons; the wit and the colonel fhall 'march out at her command; and neither • law nor reason shall stand before us.".

HOR.

HE maxim which Periander of

FRANCIS.

to which the life of man is expofed. By

Greece, left as a memorial of his knowledge and benevolence, was, xóλs xpár -be mafter of thy anger. He confidered anger as the great difturber of human life, the chief enemy both of publick happiness and private tranquillity, and thought that he could not lay on pofterity a stronger obligation to reverence his memory, than by leaving them a falutary caution against this outtageous paffion.

To what latitude Periander might extend the word, the brevity of his precept will scarce allow us to conjecture, From anger, in it's full import, protracted into malevolence, and exerted in revenge, arife, indeed, many of the evils

duced the fubverfion of cities, the defolation of countries, the maffacre of nations, and all thofe dreadful and aftonifhing calamities which fill the histories of the world, and which could not be read at any diftant point of time, when the paffions ftand neutral, and every mo tive and principle is left to it's natural force, without fome doubt of the truth of the relation, did we not fee the fame caufes ftill tending to the fame effects, and only acting with lefs vigour for want of the fame concurrent opportunities.

But this gigantic and enormous fpe cies of anger falls not properly under the animadverfion of a writer whofe chief end is the regulation of common life, and D

whofe

whofe precepts are to recommend themfelves by their general ufe. Nor is this effay intended to expofe the tragical or fatal effects even of private malignity. The anger which I propofe now for my fubject is fuch as makes thofe who indulge it more troublesome than formidable, and ranks them rather with hornets and wafps, than with basilifks and lions. I have therefore prefixed a motto, which characterifes this paffion, not fo much by the mischief that it caufes as by the noife that it utters.

There is in the world a certain clafs of mortals, known, and contentedly known, by the appellation of 'paffionate men,' who imagine themselves entitled by that distinction to be provoked on every flight occafion, and to vent their rage in vehement and fierce vociferations, in furious menaces and licentious reproaches. Their rage, indeed, for the most part, fumes away in outcries of injury, and proteftations of vengeance, and feldom proceeds to actual violence, unless a drawer or linkboy fall in their way; but they interrupt the quiet of thofe that happen to be within the reach of their clamours, obftruct the course of converfation, and difturb the enjoyment of fociety.

Men of this kind are fometimes not without understanding or virtue; and are, therefore, not always treated with the feverity which their neglect of the ease of all about them might justly provoke: they have obtained a kind of prefcription for their folly, and are confidered by their companions as under a predominant influence that leaves them not mafters of their conduct or language; as acting without confcioufnefs, and rufhing into mischief with a mift before their eyes; they are therefore pitied rather than cenfured, and their fallies are paffed over as the involuntary blows of a man agitated by the fpafins of a convulfion.

It is furely not to be obferved without indignation, that men may be found of minds mean enough to be fatisfied with this treatment; wretches who are proud to obtain the privilege of madmen, and can, without fhame, and without regret, confider themfelves as receiving hourly pardons from their companions, and giving them continual opportunities of exercising their patience, and boating their clemency.

Pride is undoubtedly the original of anger; but pride, like every other paffion, if it once breaks loose from reason, counteracts it's own purposes. A paffionate man, upon the review of his day, will have very few gratifications to offer to his pride, when he has confidered how his outrages were caufed, why they were borne, and in what they are likely to end at last.

Thofe fudden burfts of rage generally break out upon fmall occafions for life, unhappy as it is, cannot fupply great evils as frequently as the man of fire thinks it fit to be enraged; therefore the first reflection upon his violence muft fhew him that he is mean enough to be driven from his poft by every petty incident, that he is the mere flave of cafualty, and that his reafon and virtue are in the power of the wind.

One motive there is of thefe loud extravagances, which a man is careful to conceal from others, and does not always difcover to himfelf. He that finds his knowledge narrow, and his arguments weak, and by confequence his fuffrage not much regarded, is fometimes in hope of gaining that attention by his clamours which he cannot otherwife obtain, and is pleased with remembering that at least he made himself heard, that he had the power to interrupt those whom he could not confute, and fufpend the decifion which he could not guide.

Of this kind is the fury to which many men give way among their fervants and domefticks; they feel their own ignorance; they fee their own infignificance; and therefore they endeavour, by their fury, to fright away contempt from before them, when they know it must follow them behind; and think themselves eminently mafters, when they fee one folly tamely complied with, only left refufal or delay should provoke them to a greater.

Thefe temptations cannot but be owned to have fome force. It is fo little pleafing to any man to fee himself wholly overlooked in the mafs of things, that he may be allowed to try a few expedients for procuring fome kind of fupplemental dignity, and ufe fome endeavour to add weight, by the violence of his temper, to the lightness of his other powers. But this has now been long practifed, and found, upon the moit

exact

exact estimate, not to produce advantages equal to it's inconveniences; for it appears not that a man can by uproar, tumult, and bluster, alter any one's opinion of his understanding, or gain influence except over those whom fortune or nature have made his dependents. He may, by a steady perfeverance in his ferocity, fright his children, and harafs his fervants; but the rest of the world will look on and laugh, and he will have the comfort at last of thinking, that he lives only to raise contempt and hatred, emotions to which wifdom and virtue would be always unwilling to give occafion. He has contrived only to make thofe fear him whom every reasonable being is endeavouring to endear by kindnefs, and must content himself with the pleasure of a triumph obtained by trampling on them who could not refift. He must perceive that the apprehenfion which his prefence caufes is not the awe of his virtue, but the dread of his brutality, and that he has given up the felicity of being loved without gaining the honour of being reverenced.

But this is not the only ill confequence of the frequent indulgence of this bluftering paffion, which a man, by often calling to his affittance, will teach, in a fhort time, to intrude before the fummons, to rush upon him with refiftlefs violence, and without any previous notice of it's approach. He will find himfelf liable to be inflamed at the first touch of provocation, and unable to retain his refentment, till he has a full conviction of the offence, to proportion his anger to the caufe, or to regulate it by prudence or by duty. When a man has once fuffered his mind to be thus vifiated, he becomes one of the most hateful and unhappy beings. He can give no fecurity to himself that he shall not, at the next interview, alienate by fome

fudden transport his dearest friend; or break out, upon fome flight contradiction, into fuch terms of rudeness as can never be perfectly forgotten. Whoever converfes with him, lives with the fufpicion and folicitude of a man that plays with a tame tiger, always under a neceffity of watching the moment in which the capricious favage shall begin to growl.

It is told by Prior, in a panegyrick on the Duke of Dorset, that his fervants ufed to put themfelves in his way when he was angry, because he was fure to recompenfe them for any indignities which he made them fuffer. This is the round of a paffionate man's life; he contracts debts when he is furious, which his virtue, if he has virtue, obliges him to discharge at the return of reafon. He spends his time in outrage and acknowledgment, injury and reparation. Or, if there be any who hardens himself in oppreffion, and juftifies the wrong, becaufe he has done it, his infenfibility can make fmall part of his praife, or his happiness; he only adds deliberate to hafty folly, aggravates petulance by contumacy, and deftroys the only plea that he can offer for the tenderness and pa tience of mankind.

Yet, even this degree of depravity we may be content to pity, because it seldom wants a punishment equal to it's guilt. Nothing is more defpicable or more miferable than the old age of a paffionate

man.

When the vigour of youth fails him, and his amufements pall with frequent repetition, his occafional rage finks by decay of ftrength into peevishness; that peevishness, for want of novelty and variety, becomes habitual; the world falls off from around him, and he is left, as Homer expreffes it, ponioav píào xng-to devour his own heart in folitude and contempt.

TU MITIS, ET ACRI

LUCANUS AD PISONEM

TO THE RAMBLER.

AS you feem to have devoted

your 'labours to virtue, I cannot forbear to inform you of one fpecies of cruelty with which the life of a man of letters perhaps does not often make him acquainted; and which, as it feems to produce no other advantage < to thofe that practice it than a fhort gratification of thoughtlefs vanity, may become lefs common when it has been once exposed in it's various forms, ⚫ and it's full magnitude.

I am the daughter of a country gentleman, whofe family is numerous, and whofe eftate, not at first fufficient to fupply us with affluence, has been lately fo much impaired by an unfuccefsful law-fuit, that all the < younger children are obliged to try fuch means as their education affords them, for procuring the neceffaries of life. Diftrefs and curiofity concurred to bring me to London, where I was " received by a relation with the coldness which misfortune generally finds. A week, a long week, I lived with my coufin, before the moft vigilant enquiry could procure us the leaft hopes of a place, in which time I was much better qualified to bear all the vexations of fervitude. The first two 'days fhe was content to pity me, and only wished I had not been quite fo well bred; but people must comply with their circumstances. This lenity, however, was foon at an end; and, ⚫ for the remaining part of the week, I

heard every hour of the pride of my family, the obftinacy of my father, and of people better born than myself

that were common fervants.

At last, on Saturday noon, the • fold me, with very vifible fatisfaction, that Mrs. Bombafine, the great filk'mercer's lady, wanted a maid; and a fine place it would be, for there would be nothing to do but to clean my mif'trefs's room, get up her linen, dress the young ladies, wait at tea in the morning, take care of a little mifs just come from nurfe, and then fit down to my needle. But Madam was a woman of great fpirit, and ⚫ would not be contradicted, and therefore I fhould take care, for good places were not easily to be got.

With thefe cautions I waited on Madam Bombafine, of whom the first fight gave me no ravishing ideas. She was two yards round the waist, her voice was at once loud and fqueaking, and her face brought to my mind the picture of the full moon. "Are you the young woman," fays fhe," that are come to offer yourself? "It is ftrange when people of substance

66

want a fervant how foon it is the "town-talk. But they know they "fhall have a belly-full that live with

me. Not like people at the other "end of the town, we dine at one "o'clock. But I never take any body "without a character; what friends "do you come of?" I then told her

that my father was a gentleman, and 'that we had been unfortunate. "A great misfortune indeed, to come to

"" me

t

"me, and have three meals a-day! So

your father was a gentleman; and "you are a gentlewoman, I fuppofe : "fach gentlewomen!"-" Madam, I "did not mean to claim any exemp❝tions; I only answered your enquiry.” "Such gentlewomen! People should "fet their children to good trades, and keep them off the parish. Pray go to the other end of the town; there are gentlewomen, if they would pay "their debts: I am fure we have loft "enough by gentlewomen!" Up" on this, her broad face grew broader ' with triumph; and I was afraid the 'would have taken me for the plea'fure of continuing her infult; but

happily the next word was" Pray, "Mrs. Gentlewoman, troop down "ftairs." You may believe I obeyed

⚫ her.

purfuit to Lady Lofty, dreffed, as I was directed, in what little ornaments I had, because she had lately got a place at court. Upon the firft fight of me, fhe turns to the woman that thew ed me in" Is this the lady that wants

a place? Pray what place would you "have, Mifs? a maid of honour's place? "Servants, now-a-days!"-" Madam, "I heard you wanted-" "Wanted "what? Somebody finer than myself! "A pretty fervant, indeed! I fhould be "afraid to speak to her.-I fuppose, "Mrs. Minx, those fine hands cannot "bear wetting. A fervant, indeed! Pray "move off; I am refolved to be the "head perfon in this houfe. You are "ready dreffed; the taverns will be open."

I went to enquire for the next place in a clean linen gown; and heard the • fervant tell his lady, there was a young 'woman, but he saw she would not do. 'I was brought up howeyer." Are you "the trollop that has the impudence to "come for ny place? What, you have "hired that nafty gown, and are come

'To Mrs. Standish I went; and, after 'having waited fix hours, was at laft ad'mitted to the top of the ftairs, when she came out of her room, with two of her company. There was a finell of punch. "So, young woman, you want a place; "whence do you come?"-"From the country, Madam."-"Yes, they all "come out of the country. And what "brought you to town; a bastard? "Where do you lodge?”- "At the Se"ven Dials?"-"What, you never heard "of the Foundling-houfe?" Upon this ⚫ they all laughed fo obftreperously, that I took the opportunity of sneaking off ⚫ in the tumult.

"I then heard of a place at an elderly lady's. She was at cards; but in two ⚫ hours, I was told, fhe would fpeak to me. She asked me if I could keep an ' account; and ordered me to write. I " wrote two lines out of fome book that lay by her. She wondered what people ' meant, to breed up poor girls to write at that rate. "I fuppofe, Mrs. Flirt, "if I was to fee your work, it would "be fine stuff! You may walk. I will "not have love-letters written from my "houfe to every young fellow in the "street."

Two days after, I went on the fame

to steal a better."-"Madam, I have "another, but being obliged to walk—” "Then these are your manners, with your blushes, and your courtefies, to come to me in your worst gown!”"Madam, give me leave to wait upon you in my other."-"Wait on me, you faucy flut! Then you are fure of "coming: I could not let such a drab come near me. Here, you girl, that

came up with her, have you touched "her? If you have, wash your hands "before you drefs me.-Such trollops! "-Get you down! What, whimper. "ing? Pray walk!"

.

I went away with tears; for my coufin had loft all patience. However, she told me, that having a respect for my relations, fhe was willing to keep me out of the street, and would let me have another week.

The first day of this week I saw two places. At one I was asked where I had lived; and, upon my anfwer, was told by the lady, that people fhould qualify themselves in ordinary places, for the fhould never have done if the was to follow girls about. At the other house I was a fmirking huffy, and that sweet face I might make mo→ ney of; for her part, it was a rule ' with her never to take any creature that thought herself handsome, The