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UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
SI QUERIS-PENINSULAM AMQNAM
CIRCUMSPICE
TRUTH
1817
malwURUIMULO!
SCIENTIA
ARTES
VERITAS
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNUTA
STLURIOUS
:
IAS
TUENOR
:
FOON
26.
WAR
!
s!
all
i
܀
S'023
СЬL
Агч

STORY LAMURATI
Voll Nº 20.
He put a mig
the middle
linger om left hand
Publiſhed by Silveſter Doig Royal Exchange Edinburgh 1793.

UNID
OF
THE
ADVENTURER -
=
VOLÜME THE FIRST..
Tentanda via eſt ; quâ mne quoque poffim
Tollere humo, vi&torque vii î.n volitare per ora. VIRG.
On ventrons wing in queſt of praiſe I go,
And leave the gazing multitude below,
A NEW EDITION,
ILLUSTRATED WITH FRONTISPIECES..
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR SILVESTER DOIG, ROYAL EXCHANGE, EDINBURCIA
1793..
Like
**
133
275 cm
C O N T E N T S
OF THE
FIRST VOLUME.
I
II
No.
Page
ourage, why honour is a virtue. Adventur:
er charaterized, and his atchievements pro-
jected
2 Intellectual and corporal labour compared 6
5 Project for a new pantomime entertainment
4. Of the different kinds of narrative, and why
they are univerſally read
IS
5 Remark on dreaming. Various tranſmigra-
tions related by a Mea
24
6 Project for an auction of manuſcripts, by Ti.
mothy Spinbrain, author
33
7 Diſtreſs encouraged by hope: the hiſtory of
Meliſſa
30:
8. The hiſtory of Melifta concluded
Impropriety of figis,
10 Happineſs and miſery, how far the neceſſary
effects of virtue and vice
65
I-6An allegorical letter from To day
72
12. The
48
58
CONTENTS.
79
102
i
122
No,
Pägen
12 The influence of infidelity upon moral con-
duet : ftory of Opfinous
19 The ſtory of Opfinous continued
86
14 The ſtory of Opfinous concluded
94.
15 The infolence and abſurdity of advertiſements
by quacks.
Pernicious coriſequences of
granting them patents ·
16 Of inftru&ting by fiction
106
17. Curioſity neceſſary to entertainment and know-
ledge. Story of Mr. Friendly and his ne-
phew
I1G-
38. Critical remarks upon fables. Fable of the
dog and ſhadow upon a new plan
19. Propoſals to improve the dramatic entertain-
ment of the animal coinedians.
13
20 Imperceptible deviation to vice. Moral uſe
of puniſhment. Remonftrances of conſcience
univerſal. Amurath, an eaſtern ſtory 13.5
21 Eaſtern ſtory continued
22. Eallera ſtory concluded
ISI
23: Scheme for a new memorandum-bock for the
uſe of the ladies, with a ſpecimen
24 A parallel between an evening-fpent at the
playhouſe, and the ſeveral ſtages of life 165:
25. Infelicities of matrimony produced by an im-
prudent choice : cxemplified in many cha-
racters
174
26 Right of uie town to fuppreſs dramatic per-
formances; an allegory
ISO
zy An allegorical letter froin Nigliti--Requiſites
to the fucceſsful pradlice of phyfic
188
28 The practice of the poſitive duties of religion
influence moral conduct
195
143
158
29 The
CONTENTS,
iii
1
Page
202 :
No.
29 The character of a gamefter defended
30 The ladies directed in the choice of a huſband.
Good-nature deſcrised
2017
3.1 The origin of cunning; an allegory
214 :
32 Religion the only foundation of content ; an
eaſtern ſtory
33 Indirect quarrelling in company cenfurred 228
34 Folly of extravagance. The ſtory of Mifar-
gyrus
35 Plán of a new paper called the Beau Monde 243;
220
236
.
THE ADVENTURER.
.
1
No. I. Tueſday, November 7. 1752.
Hác arte Pollux, du vagus Hercules
Innixus, arces attigit igneas.
Hor.
Thus mounted to the tow'rs above,
The vagrant hero, ſon of Jove.
FRANCIS.
As
every man in the exerciſe of his duty to him
and the community, ſtruggles with difficulties which
no man has always ſurinounted, and is expoſed to dan-
gers which are never wholly eſcaped ; life has been
conſidered as a warfare, and courage as a virtue more
neceſſary than any other. It was ſoon found, that
without the exerciſe of courage, without an effort of
the mind by which immediate pleaſure is rejected,
pain deſpiſed, and life itſelf ſet at hazard, much can-
not be contributed to the public good, nor ſuch happi-
neſs procured to ourſelves as is conſiſtent with that of
others.
But as pleaſure can be exchanged only for pleaſure,
every art has been uſed to connect ſuch gratifications
with the exerciſe of courage, as compenſate for thoſe
VOL. I.
А.
which
THE ADVENTURER.
No. 1.
ز
which are given up: the pleaſures of the imagination
are ſubſtituted for thoſe of the ſenſes, and the hope of
future enjoyments for the poſſeſſion of preſent; and to
decorate theſe pleaſures and this hope, has wearied
eloquence and exhauſted learning. Courage has been
dignified with the name of heroic virtue ; and heroic
virtue has deified the hero: his ſtatue, hung round
with enſigns of terror, frowned in the gloom of a wood
or a temple ; altars were raiſed before it, and the world
was commanded to worſhip.
Thus the ideas of courage, and virtue, and honour,
are fo affociated, that wherever we perceive courage,
we infer virtue and aſcribe honour; without confider-
ing, whether courage was exerted to produce happi-
neſs or miſery, in the defence of freedom or ſupport of
tyranny.
But though courage and heroic virtue are ſtill con-
founded, yet by courage nothing more is generally un-
derſtood than a power of oppoſing danger with ſereni-
ty and perſeverance. To ſecure the honours which
are beſtowed upon courage by cuſtom, it is indeed ne-
ceflary that this danger ſhould be voluntary : for a
courageous reſiſtance of dangers to which we are ne-
ceſſarily expoſed by our ſtation, is conſidered merely
as the diſcharge of our duty, and brings only a nega-
tive reward, exemption from infamy.
He who at the approach of evil betrays his truſt or
deferts his poſt, is branded with cowardice; a name,
perhaps, more reproachful than any other, that does
not imply much greater turpitude: he who patiently
ſuffers that which he cannot without guilt avoid,
eſcapes infamy, but does not obtain praiſe. It is the
man who provokes danger in its receſs, who quits a
peaceful
No. 1.
3
THE ADVENTURER.
peaceful retreat, where he might have flumbered in
eafe and ſafety, for peril and labour, to drive before a
tempeſt or to watch in a camp; the man who defcends
from a precipice by a rope at midnight, to fire a city
that is beſieged; or who ventures forward into re-
gions of perpetual cold and darkneſs, to diſcover new
paths of navigation, and diſcloſe new fecrets of the
deep; it is the Adventurer alone, on whom every eye
is fixed with admiration, and whoſe praiſe is repeated
by every voice.
But it muſt be confeſſed that this is only the praiſe
of prejudice and of cuſtom : reaſon as yet ſees nothing
either to commend or imitate: a more ſevere ſcrutiny
muſt be made, before ſhe can admit courage to belong
to virtue, or intitle its poffeffor to the palm of honour,
If new worlds are fought merely to gratify avarice
or ambition, for the treaſures that ripen in the diſtant
mine, or the homage of nations whom new arts of de-
ſtruction may ſubdue; or if the precipice is deſcended
inerely for a pecuniary conſideration; the Adventurer
is, in the eſtimation of reaſon, as worthleſs and con-
temptible, as the robber who defies a gibbet for the
hire of a ſtrumpet, or the fool who lays out his whole
property on a lottery ticket. Reaſon conſiders the
motive, the means, and the end; and honours cou-
rage only, when it is employed to effect the pur-
poſe of virtue. Whoever expoſes life for the good of
others, and deſires no fuperadded reward but fame, is
pronounced a hero by the voice of reaſon ; and to
withhold the praiſe that he merits, would be an at-
tempt equally injurious and impoílible. How much
then is it to be regretted, that ſeveral ages have
elapſed, ſince all who had the will, had alſo the power,
A 2
thus
4
No. I.
THE ADVENTURER.
thus to ſecure at once the ſhout of the multitude, and
the eulogy of the philoſopher! The laſt who enjoyed
this privilege were the heroes that the hiſtory of cer.
tain dark ages diſtinguiſhes by the name of Knights
Errant; beings who improved the opportunities of glory
that were peculiar to their own times, in which giants
were to be encountered, dragons deſtroyed, enchant-
ments diſſolved, and captive princeſſes fet at liberty.
Theſe heroes, however numerous, or wherever they
dwelt, had nothing more to do, than as ſoon as Aurora
with her dewy fingers unlocked the roſy portals of the
eaſt to mount the ſteed, graſp the lance, and ride forth
attended by a faithful ſquire : a giant or a dragon im-
mediately appeared ; or a caſtle was perceived wi h a
mote, a bridge, and a horn: the horn is founded, a dwarf
firſt appears, and then an enchanter ; a combat enſues,
and the enchanter is defeated : the knight enters the
caſtle, reads a taliſman, diffolves the enchantment, re-
ceives the thanks of the princefles and encomium of
the knights; then is conducted by the principal lady
to the court of her father; is there the object of uni-
verſal admiration, refuſes a kingdom, and ſets out again
to acquire new glory by a ſeries of new adventures.
But if the world has now no.employment for the
Knight Errant, the Adventurer may ſtill do good for
fame. Such is the hope with which he quits the
quiet of indolence and the ſafety of obſcurity; for
ſuch ambition he has exchanged content, and ſuch is
his claim as a candidate for praiſe. It may, indeed, be
objected, that he has no right to the reward ; becauſe,
if it be admitted that he does good for fame, it cannot
be pretended that it is at the riſk of his life : but
honour has been always allowed to be of greater value
than
No. I.
S
THE ADVENTURERO
than life. If, therefore, the Adventurer riſks ho-
nour, he riſks more than the knight. The ignoini.
ny which falls on a difappointed candidate for public
praiſe, would by thoſe very knights have been deem-
ed worſe than death; and who is more truly a candi-
date for public praiſe than an author ? But as the
knights were without fear of death, the Adventurer is
without fear of diſgrace or diſappointment: he con-
fides, like them, in the temper of his weapon, and
the juſtice of his cauſe; he knows he has not far
to go, before he will meet with ſome fortreſs that has
been raiſed by fophiftry for the afylum of error, ſome
enchanter who lies in wait to enſnare innocence, or
fome dragon breathing out his poiſon in defence of in-
fidelity: he has alſo the power of enchantment, which
he will exerciſe in his turn ; he will ſometimes crowd
the ſcene with ideal beings, ſometimes recall the paſt,
and ſometimes anticipate the future ; fometimes he
will tranſport thoſe who put themſelves under his in-
fluence to regions which no traveller has yet viſited,
and will ſometimes confine them with inviſible bands
till the charm is diſſolved by a word, which will be
placed the laſt in a paper which he ſhall give them.
Nor does he fear that this boaſt ſhould draw upon
him the imputation of arrogance or of vanity; for the
knighť when he challenged an army, was not thought
either arrogant or vain ; and yet has every challenge is
a boaſt, and implies a conſciouſneſs of ſuperiority, the
oſtentation is certainly in proportion to the force that
is defied; but this force is alſo the meaſure of danger,
and danger is the meaſure of honour. It muſt alſo be
remarked, that there is a great difference between a
boaſt of what we ſhall do, and of what we have done;-
A boast
А 3
6
No. I,
THE ADVENTURER.
A boaſt when we enter the liſts, is, a defiance of dan
ger; it claims attention, and it raiſes expectation : but
a boaſt when we retuin, is only an exultation in ſafety,
and a demand of praiſe which is not thought to be
due ; for the praiſe that is thought to be due is always
paid. Let it be remembered, therefore, that
the
Adventurer raiſes expectation, he proportionably en-
creaſes his danger; and that he alks nothing which
the public ſhall deſire to withhald.
No. II. Saturday, November 11. 1752.
Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum.
HOR.
-To ſink in ſhame, or ſwell with pride,
As the gay palm is granted or deny'd.
FRANCIS
The multitudes that ſupport life by corporal labour,
and eat their bread in the ſweat of their brow, com-
monly regard inactivity as idleneſs; and have no con-
ception that wearineſs can be contracted in an elbow-
chair, by now and then peeping into a book, and mu-
ſing the reſt of the day : the ſedentary and ſtudious,
therefore, raiſe their envy or contempt, as they appear
either to poffeſs the conveniencies of life by the mere
bounty
No. II.
7
THE ADVENTURER.
bounty of fortune, or to ſuffer the want of them by re-
fuſing to work.
It is, however, certain, that to think is to labour ;
and that as the body is affected by the exerciſe of the
mind, the fatigue of the ſtudy is not leſs than that of
the field or the manufactory.
But the labour of the mind, though it is equally
wearifome with that of the body, is not attended with
the ſame advantages. Exerciſe gives health, vigour,
and cheerfulneſs, found fleep, and a keen appetite : the
effects of ſedentary thoughtfulneſs are diſeaſes that em-
bitter and ſhorten life, interrupted reſt, taſteleſs meals,
perpetual languor and cauſeleſs anxiety.
No natural inability to perform manual operations,
has been obſeryed to proceed from difinclination; the
reluctance, if it cannot be removed, may be furmount-
ed; and the artificer then proceeds in his work with as
much dexterity and exactneſs, as if no extraordinary
effort had been made to begin it: but with reſpect to
the productions of imagination and wit, a mere deter-
mination of the will is not ſufficient; there muſt be a
diſpoſition of the mind which no human being can pro.
cure, or the work will have the appearance of a forced
plan, in the production of which the induſtry of art has
been ſubſtituted for the vigour of nature.
Nor does this diſpoſition always enſure ſucceſs,
though the want of it never fails to render application
ineffectual ; for the writer who ſits down in the morn-
ing fired with his ſubject, and teeming with ideas, often
finds at night, that what delighted his imagination of-
fends his judgment, and that he has loſt the day by in-
dulging a pleaſing dream, in which he joined together
a multitude
A 4)
THE ADVENTURER.
No. II.
8
a multitude of ſplendid images without perceiving
their incongruity.
Thus the wit is condemned to paſs his hours, thoſe
hours which return no more, in attempting that which
he cannot effect, or in collecting materials which he af-
terwards diſcovers to be unfit for uſe: but the me-
chanic and the huſbandman know, that the work which
they perform will always bear the ſame proportion to
the time in which they are employed, and the diligence
which they exert.
Neither is the reward of intellectual equally certain
with that of corporal labour; the artificer, for the ma-
nufacture which he finiſhes in a day, receives a certain
fum ; but the wit frequently gains no advantage from
a performance at wliich he has toiled many months,
either becauſe the town is not diſpoſed to judge of his
merit, or becauſe he has not ſuited the popular taſte.
It has been often obferved, that not the value of a
man's income, but the proportion which it bears to
his expences, juſtly denominates him rich or poor, and
that it is not ſo much the manner in which he lives, as
the habit of life he has contracted, which renders them
happy or wretched. For this reaſon, the labour of the
mind, even when it is adequately rewarded, does not
procure means of happineſs in the ſame proportion as
that of the body. They that fing at the loom, or
whiſtle after the plough, will not for intellectual enter-
tainment; if they have plenty of wholeſome food, they
do not repine at the inelegance of their table, nor are
they leſs happy becauſe they are not treated with cerc-
monious reſpect and ſerved with ſilent celerity. The
fcholar is always conſidered as becoming a gentleman
by his education; and the wit as conferring honour
upon
1
No. II.
3
THE ADVENTUREK.
ވް
upon
his
company, however elevated by their rank or
fortune : they are, therefore, frequently admitted to
fcenes of life different from their own ; they partake of
pleaſures which they cannot hope to purchaſe; and
many ſuperfluities become neceſſary, by the gratifica-
tion of wants, which in a lower claſs they would never
have known.
Thus, the peaſant and the mechanic, when they have
received the wages of the day, and procured their
ſtrong beer and ſupper, have ſcarce a wiſh unſatisfied ;
but the man of nice diſcernment and quick ſenſations,
who has acquired a high reliſh of the elegancies and
refinement of life, has feldom philoſophy enough to be
equally content with that which the reward of genius
can purchaſe.
And yet there is ſcarce any character ſo much the
object of envy, as that of a ſucceſsful writer. But
thoſe who only ſee him in company, or hear enco-
miums on his merit, form a very erroneous opinion of
his happineſs: they conceive him as perpetually en-
joying the triumphs of intellectual fuperiority; as dif-
playing the luxuriancy of his fancy, and the variety of
his knowledge, to filent admiration; or liſtening in vc-
luptuous indolence to the muſic of praiſe. But they
know not, that the!e lucid intervals are ſhort and few
that much the greater part of his life is pafled in folitude
and anxiety; that his hours glide away unnoticed, and
the day like the night is contracted to a moment by
the intenſe application of the mind to its object: lock-
ed up from every eye, and loſt even to himſelf, he is
reminded that he lives only by the neceſſities of life,
he then ſtarts as from a dream, and regrets thåt the day
has
AS
10
No. II.
THE ADVENTURER,
has paſſed unenjoyed, without affording means of hap-
pineſs to the morrow.
Will Hardman the ſmith had three fons, Tom, Ned
and George. George, who was the youngeſt, he put
apprentice to a tailor; the two elder were otherwiſe
provided for: he had by ſome means the opportunity
of fending them to ſchool upon a foundation, and af
terwards to the Univerſity. Will thought that this
opportunity to give his boys good learning, was not to
be miſſed : “ Learning," he ſaid, " was a portion
66 which the D-v-l could not wrong them off; and
" when he had done what he ought for them, they
66 muſt do for themſelves."
As he had not the ſame power to procure them
livings, when they had finiſhed their ſtudies, they came
to London. They were both ſcholars; but Tom was
a genius, and Ned was a dunce: Ned became uſher in
a ſchool at the yearly falary of twenty pounds, and
Tom foon diſtinguiſhed himſelf as an author : he wrote
many pieces of great excellence; but his reward was
ſometimes withheld by caprice, and fometimes inter-
cepted by envy. He paſſed his time in penury and la-
bour ; his mind was abſtracted in the recollection of
ſentiment, and perplexed in the arrangement of his
ideas and the choice of expreſſion.
George in the mean time became a maſter in his
trade, kept ten men conſtantly at work upon the board,
drank his beer out of a ſilver tankard, and boaſted,
that he might be as well to paſs in a few years as many
of thofe to whom he made laced clothes, and who
thought themſelves his betters. Ned wiſhed earneſtly
that he could change ſtations with George : but Tom
in the pride of his heart diſdained them both; and de-
clared
No. II.
II
THE ADVENTURER.
clared, that he would rather periſh upon a bulk with
cold and hunger, than ſteal through life in obfcurity,
and be forgotton when he was dead.
No. III. Tueſday, November 14. 1752.
Scenis decora alta futuris
VIRG.
The ſplendid ornament of future ſcenes.
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
As the buſineſs of pantomimes is become a very fe-
rious concern, and the curioſity of mankind is perpetu-
ally thirſting after novelties; I have been at great pains
to contrive an entertainment, in which every thing
ſhall be uuited that is either the delight or aſtoniſh-
ment of the preſent age : I have not only ranſacked the
fairs of Bartholomew and Southwark, but picked up
every uncommon animal, every amazing prodigy of na-
ture, and every ſurpriſing performer, that lias lately
appeared within the bills of mortality. As ſoon as I
am provided with a theatre ſpacious enough for my
purpoſe, I intend to exhibit a moſt ſublime pantomime
in the modern taſte ; but far more oftentatious in its
feats of activity, its ſcenes, decorations, machinery,
and monſters. A ſketch of my deſign I ſhall lay before
you; you may poſſibly think it not inconſiſtent
with the character of an Adventurer to recommend it
to public noticc.
А 6
I have
and
12
No. III.
THE ADVENTURER.
I have choſen for the ſubject the Fable of Hercules,
as his labours will furniſh me with the moſt extraordi-
nary events, and give me an opportunity of introducing
many wonders of the monſtrous creation. It is ſtrange
that this ſtory, which ſo greatly recommends itſelf by
its incredibility, ſhould have hitherto eſcaped the ſearch
of thoſe penetrating geniuſes, who have rumaged not
only the legends of antiquity, but the fictions of fairy
tales, and little hiſtory books for children, to ſupply
them with materials for Perſeus and Andromeda; Doca.
tor Fauſtus, Queen Mab, &c. In imitation of theſe
illuſtrious wits, I ſhall call my entertainment by the
name of Harlequin Hercules..
In the original ſtory, as a prelude to his future: vic-
tories, we are told that Hercules ſtrangled two fer-
pents in the cradle : I ſhall therefore open with this:
circumſtance; and have prepared a couple of paſte--
board ſerpents of an enormous length, with internal
{prings and movements for the contortions, which I:
dare ſay will far exceed that moſt aſtoniſhing one in
Orpheus and Eurydice. Any of the common. fized
particoloured gentry, that have learned to whimper and
whine after being hatched in the egg in the Rape of
Proferpine, may ſerve for this ſcene; but as the man
Hercules muſt be ſuppoſed to be of a preternatural
bulk of body, the modern Coloffus has practiſed the
tiptoe ſtep and tripping air for the enſuing parts. In-
ſtead of a ſword of lath, I ſhall arm him, in conformity.
to his character..with a huge cork club.
The firſt labour is the killing the. Nemean. Lion,
who, in imitation of the fable, ſhall drop from an oil.
ed-paper moon. We have been long accuſtomed ta
admire lions upon the ſtage ; but I ſhall vaſtly improve
upon
2
No. III.
?
THE ADVENTURER.
upon this, by making our conqueror ſay him upon the
ſpot, and cloke himſelf with the ſkin: I have, there.
fore, got a tawny-coloured hide made of coarſe ſerge,
with the ears, main, and tip of the tail, properly buſhed
out with brown worſted.
Next to this is the deſtruction of the Hydra,, a terri-
ble ferpent with ſeven heads; and as two were ſaid to
{prout up again in the place of every one that was cut
off, I deſign by the art of my machinery to exhibit a
ſucceſſive regeneration of double heads, till a hundred
and more are prepared to be knocked of by one ſtroke
of the aforeſaid cork club.
I have a beautiful canvas wild boar of Erymanthus
for the third labour, which, as Harlequin is to carry it
off the ſtage upon his ſhoulders, lias nothing in its belly
but a wadding. of tow, and a little boy who is to ma.
nage its motions, to let down. the wire jaw, or gnaſh
the wooden tuſks; and though I could rather with he.
were able to grunt and growl,.yet as that is impoſſible,
I have taught the urchin to ſqueak prodigiouſly like a
pig.
The fourth labour, his catching the hind of Mænalus,
whoſe feet were of braſs and horns of gold, I fear I
muſt omit; becauſe I cannot break any common buck
to run flow enough. But he is next to drive away
theſe enormous birds of. Stymphalus's lake, which
were of ſuch prodigious bigneſs, that they intercepted
the light with their wings, and took up whole men
as their prey. I have got a. flock of them formed of
leather covered with ravens feathers :- they are a little
unwieldy, I muſt confeſs; but I have diſpoſed my
wires, fo as to play them about tolerably well, and
make them flap out the candles; and two of the largeſt
arc
14
No. III.
THE ADVENTURER.
are to gulp down the grenadier, ſtationed at each door
of the ſtage, with their caps, muſkcts, bayonets, and
all their accoutrements.
The fixth labour is an engagement with the Ama-
zons; to repreſent whom, I have hired all the wonder-
ful tall men and women, that have been lately ex-
hibited in this town. The part of Hyppolita their
queen is to be played by the Female Sampſon, who,
after the company has been amazed with the vaſt
proofs of her ſtrength, is to be fairly flung in a wreſt-
ling bout by our invincible Harlequin.
I ſhall then preſent you with a proſpect of the Au-
gean ſtable, where you will have an arrangement on
each ſide of ſeven or eight cows, hides ſtuffed with
ſtraw, which the fancy's eye may as eaſily multiply
into a thouſand, as in a tragedy battle it has been uſed
to do half a dozen ſcene-ſhifters into an army. Her-
cules's method of cleanſing this ſtable is well known ;
I ſhall therefore let looſe a whole river of pewter to
glitter along the ſtage, far ſurpaſſing any little clink-
ing caſcade of tin that the Playhouſe or Vauxhall can
boaſt of.
As he is next to ſeize upon a bull breathing out fire
and flames, I had prepared one accordingly, with the
palate and noſtrils properly loaded with wild-fire and
other combuſtibles; but by the unſkilfulneſs of the
fellow inclofed in it, while he was rehearſing Bull's
part, the head took fire, which ſpread to the carcaſe,
and the fool narrowly eſcaped ſuffering the torment of
Phalaris. This accident I have now guarded againſt,
by having lined the roof and jaws with thin plates of
painted iron
То
No. III.
IS
THC ADVENTURER.
>
To perſonate Geryon, who had three bodies, I have
contrived to tie three men together, back to back;
one of them is the famous negro, who ſwings about
his arms in every direction ; and theſe will make full
as groteſque a figure as the man with a double maſk.
As Harlequin for his eighth labour is to deliver this
triple-form inonſter to be devoured by his cannibal
oxen, I ſhall here, with the greatel propriety, exhibit
the noted ox with ſix legs and two bellies : and as
Diomede muſt be ſerved up in the ſame manner as a
meal for his fleſh-eating horſes, this will furniſh me
with a good pretext for introducing the beautiful Pan
ther mare.
After theſe I ſhall tranſport you to the orchard of
the Heſperides, where you will feaſt your fight with
the green paper trees and gilt apples. I have bought
up the old copper dragon of Wantly as a guard to
this forbidden fruit; and when he his new burniſhed,
and the tail fomething lengthened, his aſpect will be
much more formidable than his brother dragon's in
Harlequin Sorcerer.
But the full diſplay of my art is reſerved for the laſt
labour, the deſcent through a trap-door into hell.
Though this is the moſt applauded ſcene in many of
our favourite pantomimes, I don't doubt but my hell
will out-do whatever has been hitherto attempted of
the kind, whether in its gloomy decoration, its horrors,
its flames, or its devils. I have engaged the engineer
of Cuper's Gardens to direct the fire-works : Ixion
will be whirled round upon a wheel of blazing falt-
petre ; Tantalus will catch at a refluent flood of burn-
ing rofin; and Siſyphus is to roll up a ſtone charged
with crackers and ſquibs, which will bound back again
with
3
THE ADVENTURER.
No. III,
with a thundering explo' on: at a ditance you will
diſcover black ſteems aring from the river Styx, re-
preſented by a fiream of melted pitch : the noted fire.
eater alſo ſhall make his appearance, ſmoking out of
red-hot tobacco-pipes, champing lighted brimſtone,
and ſwallowing his infernal meſs of broth. Harlequin's
errand hither being only to bring away Cerberus, I
have inſtructed the molt amazing new Engliſh Chien
Savant to act the part of this three-headed dog, with
the aſliſtance of two arti icial noddles faſtened to his
throat. The fagacity of this animal will ſurely delight
much more than the pretty trick of his rival, the hu.
man hound, in another entertainrent.
Thus I have brought my Hercules through his.
welve capital enterprizes"; though I purpoſe to touch
upon ſome other of the frecian hero's atchievements.
I ſhall make him kill Cacus the :hree-headed' robber;
and ſhall carry him to Moun: Caucaſus to untie Pro-
metheus, whoſe liver was continually preyed upon by
a vulture. This laſt-mentione! incident I cannot paſs
over, as I am reſolved that my vulture ſhall vie in
bulk, beauty and' docility, with the ſo much applauded
Stupendous Oſtrich; and towards the end I doubt not
but I ſhall be able to triumph over the Sorcerer's
great gelding, by the exhibition of my Centaur Neffus, ;
who is to carry off the little woman that weighs no
more than twenty-three pounds, in the character of
Deianira; a burthen great enough for the oftler who
is to play the brute-half of my Centaur, as his back
muſt be bent horizontally, in order to fix his head
againſt the rump of the man-half.
The whole piece will conclude with Harlequin in a
bloody ſhirt, ſkipping, writhing, and rolling, and at
length:
No. III.
THE ADVENTURER.
17
length expiring, to the irregular motions of the fiddle-
ſtick : though if any of the fire-offices will enſure the.
houſe, he ſhall mount the kindled pile, and be burned
to. alhes in the preſence of the whole audience.
Intrigue is the ſoul of theſe dumb ſhews, as well as of
the more ſenſeleſs farces : Omphale, therefore, or Deia-
nira muft ſerve for my Colombine; and I can ſo far wreſt
the fable to ray own purpoſe, as to ſuppoſe that theſe
dangers were encountered by Harlequin for their fakes.
Eriſtheus, the perfecutor of Hercules, will be proper-
ly characteriſed by Pantaloon, and the fervant, whoſe
buſineſs it is, as Homer ſays, to ſhake the regions of
" the Gods with laughter,” ſhall be the wonderful lit-
tle Norfolk-man, as in all books of chivalry you never.
read of a giant but you are told of a dwarf. The fel-
low with Stentorian Tungs, who can break glaſſes and
ſhatter window-panes with the loudneſs of his vocife-
ration, has engaged in that one ſcene, where Hercules
laments the loſs of his Hylas, to make the whole houſe
ring again with his bawling; and the wonderful man,
who talks in his belly, and can fling his voice into any
part of a room, has promiſed to anſwer him in the cha-
racter of Echo.
I cannot conclude without informing you, that I have.
made an uncommon proviſion for the neceſſary embel-
liſhments of ſinging and dancing. Grim Pluto, you
know, the black-peruked monarch, muft bellow in baſs,
and the attendant devils cut capers in flame-coloured
ſtockings, as uſual;. but as Juno cheriſhed an immortal
hatred to our hero, ſhe fall deſcend in a chariot drawn.
by peacocks, and thrill forth her rage ; Deianira too
Ball vent her amorous fighs to ſoft airs : the Amazons
with their gilt-leather breaſt-plates and helmets, their
tirs;
18
No. III.
THE ADVENTURER.
1
tin pointed ſpears and looking-glaſs ſhields, ſhall give
you the Pyrrhic dance to a preamble on the kettle-
drums; and at Omphale's court, after Hercules has
reſigned his club, to celebrate her triumph, I ſhall in-
troduce a grand dance of diftaffs, in emulation of the
witches dance of broomſticks. Nothing of this kind
fhall be omitted, that may heighten either the grandeur
or beauty of my entertainment: I ſhall therefore, I
hope, find a place fomewhere in this piece, as I cannot
now have the wire-dancer, to bring on my dancing-
bears.
I am,
SIR,
Your humble Servant,
LUN Tertius
A
No. IV. Saturday, November 18. 1752.
Fiela voluptatis caufa fint proxima veris.
HOR.
Fictions to pleaſe ſhould wear the face of truth.
Rosc.
N.
o ſpecies of writing affords ſo general entertainment
as the relation of events; but all relations of events do
not entertain in the ſame degree.
It is always neceſſary, that facts ſhould appear to be
produced in a regular and connected ſeries, that they
fhould follow in a quick ſucceſſion, and yet that they
ſhould
No. IV.
19
THE ADVENTURER.
ſhould be delivered with diſcriminating circumſtances.
If they have not a neceſſary apparent connection, the
ideas which they excite obliterate each other, and the
mind is tantalized with an imperfect glimpſe of innu-
merable objects that juſt appear and vanilh ; if they are
too minutely related, they become tirefome; and if di-
veſted of all their circumſtances, infipid; for who
that reads in a table of chronology or an index, that a
city was ſwallowed up by an earthquake, or a kingdom
depopulated by a peſtilence, finds either his attention
engaged, or his curioſity gratified ?
Thoſe narratives are moſt pleaſing, which not only
excite and gratify curioſity, but engage the paſſions.
Hiſtory is a relation of the moſt natural and im-
portant events : hiſtory, therefore, gratifies curioſity
but it does not often excite either terror or pity ; the
mind feels not that tenderneſs for a falling ſtate, which
it feels for an injured beauty ; nor is it ſo much alarm-
ed at the migration of barbarians, who mark their way
with deſolation, and fill the world with violence and
rapine, as at the fury of a huſband, who, deceived into
jealouſy by falſe appzarances, ftabs a faithful and affec-
tionate wife, kneeling at his feet, and pleading to be
heard.
Voyages and travels have nearly the ſame excellen-
cies and the ſame defects : no paſſion is ſtrongly ex-
cited except wonder ; or if we feel any emotion at the
danger of the traveller, it is tranſient and languid, be-
caufe his character is not rendered fufficiently im-
portant; he is rarely diſcovered to have any excellen-
cies but daring curioſity; he is never the object of ad-
miration, and feldom of eſteem.
Biography
20
No. IV.
THE ADVENTURER.
Biography would always engage the paffions, if it
could ſufficiently gratify curiofity : but there have
been few among the whole human ſpecies whoſe lives
would furniſh a ſingle adventure; I mean ſuch a
complication of circumſtances, as hold the mind in
an anxious yet pleaſing fufpence, and gradually unfold
in the production of ſome unforeſeen and important
event; much leſs ſuch a ſeries of facts, as will perpe-
tually vary the ſcene, and gratify the fancy, with new
views of life.
But Nature is now exhauſted; all her wonders have
been accumulated, every receſs has been explored, de-
ferts have been traverſed, Alps climbed, and the ſecrets
of the deep diſcloſed ; time has been compelled to re-
ftore the empires and the heroes of antiquity; all have
paſſed in review; yet fancy requires new gratifications;
and curioſity is ſtill unſatisfied.
The reſources of Art yet remain : the ſimple beau-
ties of nature, if they cannot be multiplied, may be
compounded, and an infinite variety produced, in whichi;
by the union of different graces, both may be heighten-
ed, and the coalition of different powers may produce a
proportionate effect.
The Epic Poem at once gratifies curioſity and moves
the paſſions; the events are various and important; but
it is not the fate of a nation, but of the hero in which
they terminate, and whatever concerns the hero, en-
gages the paſſions; the dignity of his character, his
merit, and his importance, compel us to follow him
with reverence and folicitude, to tremble when he is
in danger, to weep when he ſuffers, and to burn when
he is wronged; with theſe viciſſitudes of paſſion every
heart attends Ulyfius in his wanderings, and Achilles
to the field.
Upon
No. IV.
21
THE ADVENTURER.
Upon this occafion the old romance may be considera
ed as a kind of Epic, ſince it was intended to produce
the ſame effect upon the mind nearly by the ſame
means.
In both theſe ſpecies of writing, truth is apparently
violated: but though the events are not always pro-
duced by probable means, yet the pleaſure ariſing from
the ſtory is not much leſſened; for fancy is ſtill capti-
vated with variety, and paſſion has ſcarce leiſure to re-
flect, that ſhe is agitated with the fate of imaginary
beings, and intereſted in events that never happened.
The Novel, though it bears a nearer reſemblance to
truth, has yet leſs power of entertainment; for it is
confined within the narrower bounds of probability,
the number of incidents is neceſſarily diminiſhed, and if
it decciyes us more, it ſurpriſes us leſs. The diſtreſs
is indeed frequently tender, but the narrative often
ſtands ſtill ; the lovers compliment each other in te.
dious letters and fet ſpeeches; trivial circumſtances
are enumerated with a minute exactneſs, and the reader
is wearied with languid deſcriptions and impertinent
declamations.
But the moſt extravagant, and yet perhaps the moſt
generally pleaſing of all literary performances, are
thofe in which ſupernatural events are every moment
produced by genii and fairies ; ſuch are the Arabian
Nights Entertainment, the I ales of the Counteſs
d'Anois, and many others of the ſame claſs. It
may
be
thought ſtrange, that the mind ſhould with pleaſure ac-
quieſce in the open violation of the moſt known and
obvious truths; and that relations which contradict all
experience, and exhibit a ſeries of events that are not
only impoflible but ridiculous, ſhould be read by almoſt
every
THE ADVENTURER.
No. IV.
every tafte and capacity with equal eagerneſs and de-
light. But it is not perhaps, the mere violation of
truth or of probability that offends, but ſuch a viola-
lation only as perpetually recurs.
The mind is fatisfi-
ed, if every event appears to have an adequate caufe ;
and when the agency of genii and fairies is once ad-
mitted, no event which is deemed poſſible to ſuch
agents, is rejected as incredible or abſurd ; the action
of the ſtory proceeds with regularity, the perſons act
upon rational principles, and ſuch events take place as
may naturally be expected from the interpoſition of fu-
perior intelligence and power: ſo that though there is
not a natural, there is at leaſt a kind of moral probabi-
lity preſerved, and our firſt conceſſion is abundantly re-
warded by the new ſcenes to which we are admitted,
and the unbounded proſpect that is thrown open be.
fore us.
But though we attend with delight to the atchieve-
ments of a hero who is tranſported in a moment over
half the globe upon a griffon, and fee with admiration
a palace or a city vaniſh upon his breaking a ſeal or
extinguiſhing a lamp; yet if at his firſt interview with
a miſtreſs, for whoſe fake he had fought ſo many bat .
tles and paſſed ſo many regions, he ſhould falute her
with a box on the ear; or if immediately after he had
vanquiſhed a giant or a dragon, he ſhould leap into a
well, or tie himſelf up to a tree ; we lhould be diſap-
pointed and diſguſted, the ſtory would be condemned
as improbable, unnatural, and abſurd, our innate love
of truth would be applauded, and we ſhould expatiate
on the folly of an attempt to pleaſe reaſonable beings,
by a detail of events which can never be believed, and
the
S
No. IV.
THE ADVENTURER.
23
the intervention of agents which could never have
exifted.
Dramatic poetry, eſpecially tragedy, ſeems to unite
all that pleaſes in each of theſe ſpecies of writing, with
a ſtronger reſemblance of truth, and a cloſer imitation
of nature : the characters are ſuch as excite attention
and folicitude; the action is important, its progreſs is
intricate yet natural, and the cataſtrophe is ſudden and
ſtriking; and as we are preſent to every tranſaction,
the images are more ſtrongly impreſſed, and the paſ-
fions more forcibly moved.
From a dramatic poem to thoſe ſhort pieces, which
may be contained in ſuch a periodical paper as the Ad-,
venturer, is a bold tranſition. And yet ſuch pieces,
although formed upon a ſingle incident, if that incident
be ſufficiently uncommon to gratify curioſity, and ſuf-
ficiently intereſting to engage the paſſions, may afford
an entertainment, which. if it is not laſting, is yet of
the higheſt kind. Of ſuch, therefore, this paper will
frequently confift: but it ſhould be remembered, that
it is much more difficult and laborious, to invent a
ſtory, however ſimple and however ſhort, than to re-
collect topics of inſtruction, or to remark the ſcenes of
life as they are ſhifted before us.
No. V.
24
No. V.
THE ADVENTURER.
No. V. Tueſday November 21. 1752.
Tunc et aves tutus movere per aëra pennas ;
Et lupus impavidus mediis erravit in agris :
Nec fun credulitas pifcem fufpenderat hamo.
Cuneta fine infidiis, nullamque timentia fraudem,
Plenaque pacis erant.--
Ovid.
Then birds in airy ſpace, might ſafely move,
And tim'rous hares on heaths ſecurely rove :
Nor needed fiſh the guileful hook to fear;
For all was peaceful, and that peace ſincere.
DRYDEN.
I have before remarked, that it is the peculiar infeli-
city of thoſe who live by intellectual labour, not to be
always able equally to improve their time by applica-
tion : there are ſeaſons when the power of invention is
ſuſpended, and the mind finks into a ſtate of debility
from which it can no more recover itſelf, than a perſon
who llceps can by a voluntary effort awake. I was
ſitting in my ſtudy a few nights ago in theſe perplexing
circumſtances, and after long rumination and many in-
effectual attempts to ſtart a hint which I might purſue
in my lucubration of this day, I determined to go to
bed, hoping that the morning would remove every im-
pediment to ſtudy, and reſtore the vigour of my mind. .
I was no ſooner aſleep than I was relieved from
my
diſtreſs by means which, if I had been waking, would
have
No, V.
25
THE ADVENTUREN.
have increaſed it ; and inſtead of impreſſing upon my
mind a train of new ideas in a regular ſucceſſion, would
have filled it with aſtoniſhment and terror. For in
dreams, whether they are produced by a power of the
imagination to combine images which reaſon would fe.
parate, or whether the mind is paflive and receives
impreſſions from 'fome inviſible agent, the memory
ſeems to lie wholly torpid, and the underſtanding to
be employed only about ſuch objects as are then pre.
ſented, without comparing the preſent with the paſt.
When we ſleep, we often converſe with a friend who is
either abſent or dead, without remembering that the
grave or the ocean is between us. We float like a
feather
upon the wind, or we find ourſelves this mo-
ment in England and the next in India, without re-
flecting that the laws of nature are ſuſpended, or in-
quiring how the ſcene could have been fo ſuddenly
ſhifted before us. We are familiar with prodigies, we
accommodate ourſelves to every event however ro-
mantic; and we not only reaſon, but act upon prin-
ciples which are in the higheſt degree abſurd and ex-
travagant.
In that ſtate, therefore, in which no prodigy could
render me unfit to receive inſtruction, I imagined my-
ſelf to be ftill fitting in my ſtudy, penſive and diſpirit-
ed, and that I ſuddenly heard a ſmall ſhirill voice pro-
nounce theſe words, " Take your pen; I will dictate
an Adventurer." I turned to fee from whom this
voice proceeded, but I could diſcover nothing: be-
lieving, therefore that my good genius or ſome favour-
ing muſe was preſent, I immediately prepared to write,
and the voice dictated the following narrative:
VOL. I.
B
66 I was
26
No. V.
THE ADVENTURER.
(
my
" I was the eldeſt ſon of a country gentleman who
pofleffed a large eſtate, and when I was about nine-
teen years of age fell with horſe as I was hunt-
ing, my neck was diſlocated by the fall, and for
“ want of immediate aſſiſtance, I died before I could
“ be carried home: but I found myſelf the next mo-
“ ment, with inexprefſible grief and aſtoniſhment, un-
der the ſhape of a mongrel puppy in the ſtable of an
inn, that was kept by a man who had been butler to
my father, and had married the cook.
“ I was indeed greatly careſſed; but my maſter,
“ in order as he ſaid to increaſe my beauty as well as
my ſtrength, ſoon diſencumbered me of my ears and
my tail. Beſides the pain that I ſuffered in the
“ operation, I experienced the diſadvantages of this
“ mutilation in a thouſand inſtances : this, however,
was but a ſmall part of the calamity which in this
“ ſtate I was appointed to ſuffer.
“ My maſter had a ſon about four years old, who
was yet a greater favourite than myſelf; and his
pafſions having been always indulged as ſoon as they
appeared, he was encouraged to gratify his reſent-
" ment againſt any thing, whether animate or inani-
mate, that had offended him, by beating me; and
66 when he did any miſchief, for of other faults little
66 notice was taken, the father, the mother, or the
36 maid, were ſure to chaſtiſe me in his ſtead.
" This treatment from perſons whom I had been
- accuſtomed to regard with contempt, and command
" with inſolence, was not long to be born: early one
morning, therefore, I departed. I continued my
journey till the afternoon without ſtopping, though it
66 rained hard : about four o'clock I paffed through a
66
“ village :
No. V
27
THE ADVENTURER.
66
“ village : and perceiving a heap of havings that were
" ſheltered from the wet by the thatch of a houſe
“ which fome carpenters were repairing, I crept as I
“ thought unnoticed into the corner, and laid myſelf
“ down upon them : but a man who was plaining a
"board, obſerving that I was a ſtrange dog and of a
mongrel breed, reſolved to make himſelf and his
companions merry at my expence: for this purpoſe,
having made a hole about two inches diameter, in a
s piece of deal, he ſuddenly catched me up, and put-
ting the remainder of my tail through this diabolical
“ engine, he made it faſt by driving in a wedge, with
a heavy mallet, which cruſhing the bone put me to
inexpreſſible torment. The moment he fet me down,
“the wretches, who had been ſpectators of this wag-
gery, burſt into immoderate laughter at the auk-
“ ward motions by which I expreffed my miſery, and
my ridiculous attempt to run away from that which
I could not but carry with me. They hooted after
me till I was out of their fight : however, fear, pain,
6 and confuſion, ſtill urging me forward with involun-
tary ſpeed, I ran with ſuch force between two pales
" that were not far enough aſunder to admit my clog,
" that I left it with the remainder of my tail behind
me. I then found myſelf in a farm-yard ; and fear-
ing that I ſhould be worried by the maſtiff which I
* ſaw at a diſtance, I continued my flight : but ſome
peaſants who were at work in a neighbouring barn,
perceiving that I ran without being purſued, that my
eyes were inflamed, and that my mouth was covered
“ with foam, imagined that I was mad, and knocked
brains with a flail.
66
66
66
out my
B 2
66 Soon
08
No. V.
THE ADVENTURER.
“ Soon after I had quitted this maimed and perſe-
s cuted carcaſs, I found myſelf under the wings of a
“ bulfinch with three others that were juſt hatched.
" I now rejoiced in the hope of foaring beyond the
“ reach of human barbarity, and becoming like my
" mother a denizon of the ſky: but my mother, be-
“ fore I was perfectly fledged, was ſurpriſed in her
66. neft by a ſchool-boy, who graſped her ſo hard, to
s prevent her eſcape, that ſhe ſoon after diect: he then
" took the neſt with all it contained, which he depo-
“ fited in a baſket, where I prefently loft my three
" companions in misfortune, by change of food and un-
“ ſkilful management. I ſurvived ; and ſoon after I
.“ could feed myſelf, I was taken by my tyrant's mo-
" ther when ſhe went to pay her rent, as a preſent to
- her landlords daughter, a young lady who was ex-
6 tremely beautiful, and in the eighteenth year of her
age.
My captivity now began to loſe its terrors ; I no
66 longer dreaded the rude gripe of a boiſterous ur-
có chin, whoſe fondneſs was ſcarce leſs dangerous than
“ his reſentment; who jin the zeal of his attachment
to a new play-thing, might neglect me till I periſhed
56 with hunger; or who might wring off my neck, be-
56 cauſe he had ſome other uſe for the halfpenny which
" ſhould procure me food : the confinement of a cage
us became habitual ; I was placed near a pleaſant win-
“ dow; I was conſtantly fed by one of the fineſt hands
" in the world ; and I imagined, that I could ſuffer no
" miſery under the patronage of ſmiles and graces.
" Such was my fituation, when a young lady from
““ London made an afternoon's viſit to my miſtreſs :
"'flc took an opportunity to careſs me among her
.66
66 other
No. V.
29
THE ADVENTURER.
66
“ other favourites, which were a parrot, a monkey
" and a lap-dog; ſhe chirped, and holding out her
finger to me, I hopped upon it; ſhe ſtroked me, put
my head to her cheek, and to ſhew my fenfibility of
6 her favours I began to fing: as ſoon as my ſong was
over, ſhe turned to my miſtreſs, and told her, that
" the dear little creature might be made abſolutely.
66 the ſweeteſt bird in the world, only by putting out
* his eyes, and confining it in a leſs cage: to this hor-
rid propoſal my fair keeper agreed, upon being again
“ aſſured that my fong would be very greatly im-
" proved; and the next day performed herſelf the
operation, as ſhe had been directed, with the end of
a hot knitting-needle. My condition was now more
“ eaſily to be conceived than expreſſed: but I did not
long ſuffer the mournful folitude of perpetual dark-
$6 neſs; for a cat came one night into the room undiſ-
covered, dragged me through the wires of the cage,
66 and devoured me.
" I was not diſpleaſed to find myſelf once more at
“ large; delivered from blindneſs and captivity, and
“ ſtill able to ſport upon the breeze in the form of
cockchafer. But I had ſcarce entered this new
“ ſcene of exiſtence, when a gentleman, in whoſe gar-
6 den I was feaſting on one of the leaves of a cherry-
tree, caught me, and turning to his ſon, a boy who
“ had juſt been put into his firſt breeches, Here, Tom-
my, ſays he, is a bird for you. The boy received
me with a grin of horrid delight, and, as he had
66 been taught, immediately impaled me alive upon a
“ corking-pin, to which a piece of thread was faſtened,
" and I was doomed to make my young maſter ſport,
5 by fluttering about in the agonies of death; and when
а.
B. 3
66 I was
30
No. V.
THE ADVENTURER.
66
“ I was quite exhauſted, and could no longer uſe my
wings, he was bid to tread upon me, for that I was
now good for nothing; a command with which he
“ mercifully complied, and in a moment cruſhed me to
atoms with his foot.
" From a cockchafer I tranſmigrated into an earth-
worm, and found myſelf at the bottom of a farmers
dunghill. Under this change of circumſtances, I
“ comforted myſelf by confidering, that if I did not
4. now mount upon the wind, and tranſport myſelf from
place to place with a ſwiftneſs almoſt equal to
thought, yet I was not likely either to pleaſe or to
“ offend mankind, both of which were equally fatal
l;
65 and I hoped to ſpend my life in peace, by eſcaping
66 the notice of the moſt cruel of all creatures.
“ But I did not long enjoy the comfort of theſe re-
s flections. I was one morning diſturbed by an unus
“ fual noiſe, and perceived the ground about me to
66
fhake. I immediately worked my way upward to
“ diſcover the cauſe; and the moment I appeared
us above the ſurface, I was eagerly ſnatched up by a
man who had ſtuck a dung-fork into the ground;
56 and moved it backward and forward to produce the
es effect that had now happened. I was put into a
“ broken pan with many other aſſociates in misfortune,
" and foon after difpofed of to one of thoſe gentle
“ ſwains who delight in angling. This perſon carried
us the next morning to the brink of a river, where I
preſently ſaw him take out one of my companions,
" and whiſtling a tune, paſſed a barbed hook through
" the whole length of his body, entering it at the head
and bringing it out at the tail. The wretched ani-
mal writhed itſelf on the bloody hook, in torture
66 which
No. v.
31
THE ADVENTURER.
re
ut which cannot be conceived by man, nor felt by any
creature that is not vital in every part. In this con-
“ dition he was ſuſpended in the water as a bait for
fiſh, till he was, together with the hook on which he
sa hung, ſwallowed by an eel. While I was beholding
" this dreadful ſpectacle, I made many reflections on
" the great inequality between the pleaſure of catching
" the prey, and the anguiſh inflicted on the bait. But
w theſe reflections were preſently after loft, in the
6 fame agonies of which I had been a ſpectator.
" You will not have room in this paper to relate all
" that I ſuffered from the thoughtleſs. barbarity of
“ mankind, in a cock, a lobſter, and a pig : let it fuf-
“ fice to ſay, that I ſuffered the fame kind of death
" with thoſe who are broken upon the wheel, I was
6 roaſted alive before a ſlow fire, and was ſcourged to
66 death with ſmall cords, to gratify the wanton appe-
" tite of luxury, or contribute to the meriiment of a
rabble."
Thus far I had written as amanuenſis to an inviſible
dictator; when my dream ſtill continuing, I felt fome.
thing tickle my wriſt, and turning my eye from the pa-
per to ſee what it was, I diſcovered a fiea, which i
caught and killed, by putting it into the candle. At
the fame inſtant the fiea vaniſhed, and a young lady of
exquiſite beauty ſtood before me.
“ Thoughtleſs
“ wretch," " ſaid ſhe, thou haſt again changed the ſtate
“ of my exiſtence, and expoſed me to ſtill greater ca-
s lamities than any that I have yet ſuffered. As a flea
“ I was thy monitor, and as a flea I might have eſca-
ped thy cruelty if I had not intended thy inſtruction :
“ but now to be concealed is impoſſible, and it is there-
56 fore impoſſible to be ſafe. The eyes of deſire are
upon
1
79
66
B4
32
No. V.
THE ADVENTURER.
66
upon me, and to betray me to infamy and guilt will
" be the toil of perſeverance and the ſtudy of reaſon.
“ But though man is ſtill my enemy, though he affails
me with more violence and perſiſts with more obfti-
nacy, I have leſs power of reſiſtance; there is a rebel
“ in my own bofom who will labour to give me up,
" whoſe influence is perpetual, and perpetual influence
" is not eaſily furmounted. Publiſh, however, what I
“ have communicated; if any man ſhall be reclaimed
“ from a criminal inattention to the felicity of inferior
beings, and reſtrained from inflicting pain by con-
ſidering the effect of his actions, I have not ſuffered.
" in vain. But as I am now expoſed not only to acci-
« dental and caſual evils, as I am not only in danger
.* from the frolics of levity, but from the deſigns of
cunning; to atone for the injury which thou haft
* done me, let the Adventurer warn the ſex of every
“ wile that is practifed for their deſtruction; and deter
men from the attempt, by diſplaying the aggravated
“ guilt, and ſhameleſs difingenuity of aſſuming an ap-
pearance of the moſt ardent and tender affection,
only to overwhelm with unutterable diſtreſs the
“ beauty whom love has made credulous, and inno.
* cence keeps unacquainted with ſuſpicion."
While I liſtened to this addreſs, my heart throbbed
with impatience; and the effort that I made to reply,
awaked me.
bo
99
No. VI.
No. VI.
33
THE ADVENTURER.
No. VI. Saturday, November 25. 1752.
Nunc auétionem facere decretum eft mihi:
Foras neceſſum eft, quicquid habeo, vendere.
Adeſte ſultis, præda erit præfentium.
Logos ridiculos vendo.
PLAUT.
I am obliged to part with my whole ſtock, and am re-
ſolved to fell it by auction : you that will buy make
haſte, here will be excellent pennyworths : my mer-
chandiſe is jeſts and witticiſms.
Last Sunday morning. I was diſturbed very early by an
old crony, a brother of the quill, as he calls himſelf,
who burſt into my chamber, and running to my bed-
fide, “ Get up, my dear friend,” ſaid he, preſſing my
hand with great eagerneſs ;
“ I have ſuch news for
“ you! Here's your clothes ; make hafte, let me beg:
66 of you.”
I had been uſed, at each return of the Sabbath, to
receive a viſit from my old acquaintance about din-
ner time ; but I could not imagine what had intro-
duced him to give me this morning falutation. How-
ever, I huddled on my clothes, and had ſcarce feated :
him by the fire-lide in my ſtudy, when flinging down a
paper very much blotted upon the table, " There,"?
fay's
B 5
34
No. VT:
THE ADVENTURER.
ſays he, “there's a ſcheme for you, my old boy! I am
« made for ever-Read it I am made for ever."
I very well knew my friend's foible: he has learn-
ing, a great deal of vivacity, and ſome judgment; but
he wants the neceflary ſteadineſs for ſerious applica-
tion. He is continually in purſuit of new projects, but
will not allow himſelf time to think of putting them in
execution. He has contracted with every eminent
bookſeller in town for works of which he had only
conceived the deſign, and ſcarce ever proceeded be-
yond the title-page and preface. He is a profeſſed
writer; and of a genius ſo extenſive, that all ſubjects
are alike to him ; but as he cannot ſubmit to the
drudgery of correctneſs, his performances are hurried
over in ſo ſlovenly a manner, that they hardly procure
him a bare fubfiftence. He is, therefore, perpetually
exclaiming againſt the tyranny of the trade; and la-
ments, that merit ſhould be ſo much diſcouraged by the
ignorance or envy of the town.
I had often experienced the fertility of his invention
in forming ſuch projects as were eaſy in theory but im-
poſſible in the practice; I therefore expecting nothing
lefs than ſuch another whimſical contrivance as his laſt
“ for making new boards out of ſhavings;"? but how
was I ſurpriſed, when I took up his paper, and ſaw at-
the top of it the following advertiſement !
On
No. VI.
35
THE ADVENTURER.
On the
day of
next
Will be fold by AUCTION,
A curious and valuable collection of manuſcripts
(warranted originals) in proſe and verſe:
Being the entire ſtock in trade of
TIMOTHY SPINBRAIN, Author,
Leaving off Buſineſs.
As I could not help ſmiling at the conceit, my
friend underſtood it as a mark of my approbation ; and
ſnatching the ſheet out of my hand, " Well,” ſays he,
“ don't you think this will free me from the imperti-
nence of duns, and the ſervility of ſuing to thoſe un-
“ conſcionable vultures the bookſellers, for more copy-
money? Why, man, I ſhall raiſe an eſtate. by it, I
66 have ſuch an infinite number of tracts on political,
“ polemical, philofophical, phyfiological, economical
religious, and miſcellaneous ſubjects. My manu-
ſcripts, let me tell you, are of greater utility, and
conſequently more valuable, than thoſe of the Vati-
can or Bodleian libraries.” He then proceeded to
defcant on the particulars of his plan; not forgetting
to enliven his diſcourſe with many ſprightly fallies
againſt the retailers of the works of the learned, thoſe
blood-fuckers, as he called them, of the literary com-
monwealth.
" Sir, continued he, I intend to ſtrike off an impreſ-
- fion of twenty thouſand copies of my catalogue, to
es be diſtributed among all the lovers of literature
so throughout the three kingdoms; and I Mall take
B 6
66
Cars
t
36
No. VI.
THE ADVENTURER.
care to circulate a ſufficient number among the Vir-
" tuofi in Holland, France, Italy, Spain, Germany, and
s elſewhere. I will juſt mention to you ſome of the
" chief articles that enrich my
collection.
“ In politics, I have an infallible ſcheme for ruining
6 the French power, which, I ſuppoſe, will be bought
up at any price, by commiſſion from abroad, if our
miniſtry have not ſpirit enough to outbid them. I
“ I have another for a coalition of parties, which will
“ prevent all diſputes at the next general election. I
“ have another for diſcharging the national debt,
" which I contrived in gratitude for my being ſet at
" liberty by the laſt act of inſolvency. I have ſeveral
“ other pamphlets on the important topics of liberty,
“bribery and corruption, written on both ſides the
queſtion ; and a moſt curious collection of ſpeeches
adapted to every kind of debate, which will be of
" admirable uſe to young members of parliament.
“ In philoſophy, I have ſeveral new ſyſtems in oppofi-.
“ tion to the preſent received opinions : I have a proof
os that the earth is an octagon; another that the ſun is
“ inhabited ; and a third, that the moon may, for
ought we can tell to the contrary, be made of a
green cheeſe. I have a new theory of optics ; de-
"monſtrating, that darkneſs is cauſed by certain tene-
“ brificous rays opugning, obeunding, ſheathing, and
abſorbing the rays of light. I have reſolved the
phenomena of electricity and magnetiſm ; and have
“ made many furpriſing improvements in all the arts
" and ſciences. Theſe I fear will be carried off by
" fome German profeffor, who will thence claim the
* merit to himſelf, and the honour of the diſcovery
s will be attributed to his nation,
66 Thoſe
No. VI.
37
THE ADVENTURER.
66
as
6. Thoſe who are fond of diſplaying their talents in
" religious diſputes, will find in my auction, ſufficient
66 matter for their various altercations; whether they
“are Atheiſts, Deiſts, or diſtinguiſhed by the modeſt
“ appellation of free-thinkers. There is ſcarce a ſect.
among the many hundred, whom I have not defend-
66 ed or attacked : but it muſt not be concluded from
6 thence, that I have been biaſſed more towards one
* than another; as you know the faith of an author
" is out of the queſtion; and he only writes pro or con,
the ſeveral opinions are more or leſs embraced or
" exploded in the world. I have got, indeed, ſome in-
6 fallible arguments againſt the Pope's infallibility;
" and ſome probable conjectures, that there never was.
" fuch a perſon as Mahomet; both which, I don't
“ doubt, will be bought up by the emiffaries of Rome
6 and Conftantinople.".
Here I interrupted my friend, by aſking him, if he.
had not ſomething likewiſe againſt the Patriarch of the
Greek church; or a ſerious admonition againſt the
growth of Hottentotiſm among us.
He anſwered very.
calmly, “ I ſhould ſee in the catalogue," and pro-
ceeded.
<< The emiffaries of Conſtantinople--Well--my
65 ſtock in the Belles Lettres is almoſt inexhauſtible.
o I have a complete ſet of criticiſms on all the ancient
“ authors, and a large ſtore of conjectural emenda-
66 tions on the old Engliſh claſics: I have ſeve-
66 ral new eſſays in modern wit and humour; and
a long ſtring of papers both ſerious and divert:
ing, for periodical lucubrations : I have I know
“ not how many original entertaining novels, as well
as elegant tranſlations from the French; with a
is heap of fingle pamphlets on the moſt popular and in-
* tereſting
6
38
No. VI.
THE ADVENTUP ER.
66
66
66
tereſting ſubjects. My poetry will conſiſt of every
article, whether tragedies, comedies, farces, maſques,
operas, fonnets, cantas, fongs, paſtorals, ſatires, odes,
" elegies or epithalamiums : and then, ſuch a load of
“ epigrams, anagrams, rebuffes, riddles, acroſtics, co-
“ nundrums! which you know will fetch a high price
“ from the witlings, and the proprietors of monthly
" magazines. To wind up the whole there ſhall be
“ ſeveral diſtinct lots of title-pages and mottos, and de-
“ dications, and prefaces, and plans for books.
“ Thus, my dear friend, have I opened to you the
“ main drift of my deſign; and I believe, at a mode-
“ rate computation let me fee-ay, after I have
" cleared myſelf in the world, I ſhall be able to retire
" into the country, let me tell you, with a pretty for-
tune in my pocket. But before I begin my ſale, if
you can find any thing that will ſuit your Adventu-
rer, as you are an old acquaintance, you ſhall have it.
at your own price."
I thanked Mr. Spinbrain for his genteel offer, and
heartily congratulated him on the proſpect of his pretty
fortune: but I could not help inquiring where all theſe
immenſe ſtores of literature were lodged, as I never
had obſerved any thing but looſe ſcraps of paper ſcat-
tered about his room, and onc book of " loci com-
munes," or " hints," as he called them, placed upon
the chimney-piece. “ Ha !" ſays he, that's true e ;
I
“ forgot to mention that: why, indeed, they are none
" of them quite finiſhed as yet : but I have got the
rough draughts of moſt ſomewhere : beſides I have
" it all here," pointing to his forehead. I adviſed him
to ſet about it directly; and in the evening, when we
parted, he reſolved not to go to bed till he had per-
fected his ſcheme. Yeſterday morning I received a
note
66 I
No. VI.
39
THE ADVENTURER,
1
note from him, acquainting me that he had laid aſide
all thoughts of his auction ; becauſe, as he imagined;
the maid had inadvertently, lighted his fire with the
beſt of his materials.
The reſtleſſneſs of my friend's chimerical genius will
not, however, let him entirely give up the point : and
though he has been diſappointed in this mighty pro-
ject, yet he informs me, he has hit upon a ſcheme.
equally advantageous, which ſhall monopoliſe the whole
buſineſs of ſcribbling, and he offers to take me inta
partnerſhip with him. Ah," ſays he, “ we ſhall
66 humble thoſe fellows“We need not care a farthing
“ for Mr. Bibliopola.”—His deſign is to open a new
Literary warehouſe, or Univerſal Regiſter office for
wit and learning. The particulars he has promiſed ta
communicate to me to-morrow: in the mean time, he
deſires me to advance him a trifle, to buy paper for a
poem on the late theatrical diſputes,
А.
No. VII. Tueſday, November 28. 1752.
VIRG.
Sit mihi fas audita loqui-
What I have heard, permit me to relate.
I RE
RECEIVED, a few weeks ago, an account of the death,
of a lady whoſe name is known to many, but the
- eventful hiſtory” of whoſe life has been communi.
cated to few : to me. it has been often related during
a long and intimate acquaintance; and as there is not
a ſingle
D:
No. VII.
THE ADVENTURER.
be
a fingle perſon living, upon whom the making it pu-
blic can refleći unmerited diſlionour, or whoſe deli.
cacy or virtue can ſuffer by the relation, I think I owe
to mankind a ſeries of events from which the wretch-
ed may derive comfort, and the moſt forlorn
inay
encouraged to hope; as miſery is alleviated by the
contemplation of yet deeper diſtreſs, and the mind for-
tified againſt deſpair by inſtances of unexpected relief.
The father of Meliſſa was the younger ſon of a
country gentleman who poffeffed an eſtate of about
five hundred a year; but as this was to be the inhe..
ritance of the elder brother, and as there were three
fifters to be provided for, he was at about fixteen ta-
ken from Eton ſchool, and apprenticed to a conſidera,
ble merchant at Briſtol. The young gentlemen, whoſe
imagination had been fired by the exploits of heroes,
the victories gained by magnanimous preſumption, and
the wonders diſcovered by daring curioſity, was not
diſpoſed to conſider the acquifition of wealth as the
limit of his ambition, or the repute of honeſt induſtry.
as the total of his fame. He regarded his ſituation as.
ſervile and ignominious, as the degradation of his ge-
nius and the precluſion of his hopes; and longing to go
in ſearch of adventures, he neglected his bufineſs as
unworthy of his attention, heard the remontrances of
his maſter with a kind of fullen diſdain, and after two
years legal llavery, made his eſcape, and at the next.
town enliſted himſelf a ſoldier ; not doubting but that,
by his military merit, and the fortune of war, he ſhould
return a general officer, to the confuſion of thoſe who
would have buried him in the obſcurity of a compting-
houſe. He found means effectually to elude the in-
quiries of his friends, as it was of the utmoſt im
portance
No.. VII.
41
THE ADVENTURER.
portance to prevent their officious endeavours to ruin
his project, and obſtruct his advancement:
He was ſent with other recruits to London, and ſoon
afterwards quartered with the reſt of his company in
a part of the country, which was ſo remote from all
with whom he had any connection, that he no longer
dreaded a diſcovery:
It happened that he went one day to the houſe of a
neighbouring gentleman with his comrade, who was
become acquainted with the chambermaid, and by her
intereſt admitted into the kitchen. This gentleman,
whoſe age was ſomething more than fixty, had been
about two years married to a ſecond wife, a young wc-
man who had been well educated and lived in the po-
lite world, but had no fortune. By his firſt wife, who
had been dead about ten years, he had ſeveral children;.
the youngeſt was a daughter who had juſt entered her
ſeventeenth year ; ſhe was very tall for her
age,
fine complection, good features, and was well ſhaped ;
but her father, whoſe affection for her was mere in-
ftinét, as much as that of a brute for its young, utterly
neglected her education. It was impoſſible for him,
,
he ſaid, to live without her; and as he could not afford
to have her attended by a governeſs and proper maſters
in a place fo remote from London, ſhe was ſuffered to
continue illiterate and unpoliſhed; ſhe knew no enter-
tainment higher than a game at romps with the fer-
vants ; ſhe became their confident, and truſted them in
return, nor did ſhe think herſelf happy any where but
in the kitchen.
As the capricious fondneſs of her father had never
conciliated her affection, ſhe perceived it abate upon
his marriage without regret. She ſuffered no new re-
ſtraint
had a
42
No, VII,
THE ADVENTURER.
ftraint from her new mother, who obſerved with a ſe-
cret ſatisfaction that miſs had been uſed to hide herſelf
from. viſitors, as neither knowing how to behave nor
being fit to be ſeen, and choſe rather to conceal her de-
fects by excluding her from company, than to ſupply
them by putting her to a boarding ſchool.
Miſs, who had been told by Betty that ſhe expected
her ſweetheart, and that they were to be merry, ſtole
down ſtairs, and, without ſcruple, made one in a party
at blindman's buff. The foldier of fortune was ftruck
with her perſon, and diſcovered, or thought he diſco-
vered in the ſimplicity of nature, fome graces which are
poliſhed away by the labour of art. However, nothing
that had the appearance of an adventure could be indif-
ferent to him; and his vanity was flattered by the hope
of carrying off a young lady under the diſguiſe of a
common foldier, without revealing his birth, or boaſt-
ing of his expectations.
In this attempt he became very aſſiduous, and ſuc-
ceeded. The company being ordered to another place,
Betty and her young miſtreſs departed early in the
morning with their gallants; and there being a privi-
leged chapel in the next town they were married.
The old gentleman, as ſoon as he was informed that
his daughter was miſſing, made ſo diligent and ſcrupu-
lous an inquiry after her, that he learned with whom and
which way ſhe was gone; he mounted his horſe, and
purſued her, not without curſes and imprecations ; dif-
covering rather the tranſports of rage, than the emotion
of tenderneſs, and reſenting her offence rather as the re-
bellion of a llave, than the diſobedience of a child. He
did not, however, overtake them till the marriage had
been conſummated; of which when he was informed
by
No. VII.
43
THE ADVENTURER.
by the huſband, he turned from him with expreſſions of
brutality and indignation, ſwearing never to forgive a
fault which he had taken no care to prevent.
The young couple, notwithſtanding their union fre-
quently doubled their diſtreſs, ſtill continued fond of
each other. The ſpirit of enterpriſe and the hope of
preſumption were not yet quelled in the young foldier;
and he received orders to attend king William, when
he went to the fiege of Namur, with exultation and
tranſport, believing his elevation to independence and
diſtinction as certain as if he had been going to take
poſſeſſion of a title and eſtate. His wife who had been
ſome months pregnant, as ſhe had no means of fubfiftence
in his abſence, procured a paſſage with him. When
ſhe came on ſhore and mingled with the crowd that fol-
lowed the camp, wretches who without compunction
wade in human blood to ſtrip the dying and the dead, to
whom horror is become familiar and compaſſion impof-
ſible, ſhe was terrified: the diſcourſe of the women,
rude and unpoliſhed as ſhe was, covered her with con-
fufion; and the brutal familiarity of the men filled her
with indignation and difguft: her maid, Betty, who had
alſo attended her huſband, was the only perſon with
whom ſhe could converſe, and from whom ſhe could
hope the aſſiſtance of which ſhe was ſo ſoon to ſtand in
need.
In the mean time ſhe found it difficult to fubfift; but
accidentally hearing the name of an officer, whom the
remembered to have viſited her inother foon after her
marriage, the applied to him, told him her name, and
requeſted that he would afford her his protection, and
permit her to take care of his linen. With this requeſt
the captain complied; her circumſtances became leſs
diftrefled
44
No. VII.
THE ADVENTURER.
diftreffed, and her mind more eaſy: but new calamity
faddenly overtook her : fhe ſaw her huſband march to
an engagement in the morning, and ſaw him brought
back deſperately wounded at night. The next day he
was removed in a waggon with many others who were:
in the fame condition, to a place of great ſafety, at the
diſtance of about three leagues, where proper care might
be taken of their wounds. She intreated the captain to
let her go in the waggon with him; but to this he
could not conſent, becauſe the waggon would be filled
with thoſe who neither were able to walk, nor could
be left behind. He promiſed, however, that if ſhe
would ſtay till the next day, he would endeavour to
procure her a paſſage; but ſhe choſe rather to follow
the
waggon on foot, than to be abfent from her huf-
band. She could not, however, keep pace with it, and
fhe reached the hoſpital but juſt time enough to kneel
down by him upon ſome clean ſtraw, to ſee him ſink un-
der the lait ayony, and hear the groan that is repeated
no more. The fatigue of the journey, and the perter-
bation of her mind, immediately threw her into labour,
and the lived' but to be delivered of Meliſſa, who was
thus in the moſt helpleſs ſtate. left without father, 110-
ther or friend, in a foreign country, in circumſtances
which could afford no hope of reward to the tenderneſs
that ſhould attempt the preſervation of her life, and
among perſons who were become obdurate and infenfi-
ble, by having been long uſed to ſee every ſpecies of
diſtreſs.
It happened that, among thoſe whom accident or:
diſtreſs had brought together at the birth of Meliſſa,
there was a young woman, whoſe huſband had fallen in
the late engagement, and who a few days before had
loft:
NO. VII.
-45
THE ADVENTURER.
loſt a little boy that ſhe ſuckled. This perfon, rather
perhaps to relieve herſelf from an inconveniency, than
in compaffion to the orphan, put it to her breaſt; but
whatever was her motive, ſhe believed that the afford-
ing ſuſtenance to the living, conferred a right to the
apparrel of the dead, of which ſhe therefore took pof-
feffion; but in ſearching her pocket the found only a
thimble, the remains of a pocket looking-glaſs, about
the value of a penny in Dutch money, and the certifi-
cate of her marriage. The paper, which ſhe could not
read, ſhe gave afterwards to the captain, who was
touched with pity at the relation which an inquiry
after his laundreſs produced. He commended the wo-
man who had preſerved the infant, and put her into the
place of its mother. This encouraged her to continue
her care of it till the captain returned to England,
with whom ſhe alſo returned, and became his ſervant.
This gentleman, as ſoon as he had ſettled his imme.
diate concerns, fent Meliſſa under the care of her nurſe
to her grandfather; and incloſed the certificate of her
mother's marriage in a letter containing an account of
her death, and the means by which the infant had been
preſerved. He knew that thoſe who had been once
dear to us, by whatever offence they may have aliena-
ted our affection when living, are generally remember-
ed with tenderneſs when dead ; and that after the grave
has ſheltered them from our reſentment, and rendered
reconciliation impoſſible, we often regret as ſevere
that conduct which before we approved as juſt : her
therefore, hoped that the parental fondneſs which
an old man had once felt for his daughter, would rerire
at the ſight of her offspring ; that the memory of her
fault would be loſt in the ſenſe of her misfortunes; and
that
3
46
NO. VII.
THE ADVENTURER.
that he would endeavour to atone for that inexorable
reſentment which produced them, by cheriſhing a life
to which ſhe had, as it were, transferred her own. But
in theſe expectations, however reaſonable, he was mif-
taken. The old man, when he was informed by the
meſſenger that the child ſhe held in her arms was his
grand-daughter, whom ſhe was come to put under his
protection, refuſed to examine the contents of the let-
ter, and diſmiſſed her with menaces and inſult. The
knowledge of every uncommon event ſoon becomes ge-
neral in a country-town. An uncle of Meliffa's, who
had been rejected by his father for having married his
maid, heard this freſh inſtance of his brutality with grief
and indignation; he ſent immediately for the child and
the letter, and aſſured the ſervant that his niece ſhould
want nothing which he could beſtow : to beſtow much,
indeed, was not in his power, for his father having ob-
ftinately perfifted in his reſentment, his whole ſupport
was a little farm which he rented of the 'ſquire: but as
he was a good economiſt and had no children of his own,
he lived decently; nor did he throw away content, be-
cauſe his father had denied him affluence.
Meliffa, who was compaſſionated for her mother's
misfortunes, of which her uncle had been particularly
informed by her maid Betty, who had returned a widow
to her friends in the country, was not leſs beloved for
her own good qualities; ſhe was taught to read and
write, and work at her needle, as ſoon as ſie was able
to learn; and ſhe was taken notice of by all the gentry
as the prettieſt girl in the place : but her aunt died
when ſhe was about eleven years old, and before the
was thirteen ſhe loſt her uncle.
She
NO. VII.
47
THE ADVENTURER.
She was now again thrown back upon the world,
ſtill helpleſs, though her wants were increaſed, and
wretched in proportion as ſhe had known happineſs: ſhe
looked back with anguiſh, and forward with diſtraction,
a fit of crying had juft afforded her a momentary re-
lief, when the 'ſquire, who had been informed of the
death of his tenant, ſent for her to his houſe. This gen-
tleman had heard her ſtory from her uncle, and was un-
willing that a life which had been preſerved almoſt by
miracle, ſhould at laſt be abandoned to miſery; he
therefore determined to receive her into his family, not
as a fervant, but as a companion to his daughter, a young
lady finely accompliſhed, and now about fifteen. The
old gentleman was touched with her diſtreſs, and miſs re-
ceived her with great tenderneſs and complacency: ſhe
wiped away her tears, and of the intolerable anguiſh of
her mind, nothing remained but a tender remembrance
of her uncle, whom ſhe loved and reverenced as a pa-
rent. She had now courage to examine the contents of
a little box which he had put into her hand juſt before
he expired; ſhe found in it only the certificate of her
mother's marriage, encloſed in the captain's letter, and
an account of the events that have been before related,
which her uncle had put down as they came to his know-
ledge: the train of mournful ideas that now.ruſhed upon
her mind, raiſed emotions which, if they could not be
ſuppreſſed by reaſon, were foon deſtroyed by their own
violence,
}
Nc.. VIII.
5
48
No. VIII,
THE ADVENTURER.
No. VIII. Saturday, December 2. 1752.
VIRG.
Duraté, et voſmet rebus fervate ſecundis.
Endure and conquer, live for better fate.
In this family, which in a few weeks after returned to
London, Meliſſa foon became a favourite: the good
?[quire ſeemed to conſider her as his child, and miſs as
her ſiſter; ſhe was taught dancing and mufic, introduced
to the beſt company, elegantly dreſſed, and allowed
ſuch ſums as were neceſſary for trivial expences. Youth
feldom ſuffers the dread of to-morrow to intrude upon
the enjoyment of to-day, but rather regards preſent
(elicity as the pledge of future : Meliſſa was probably
as happy as if ſhe had been in the actual poffeffion of a
fortune, that, to the eaſe and ſplendor which ſhe enjoy-
ed already, would have added ſtability and indepen-
dence.
She was now in her eighteenth year, and the only ſon
of her benefactor was juſt come from the univerſity to
ſpend the winter with his father in town. He was
charmed with her perfon, behaviour, and diſcourſe;
and what he could not but admire, he took every op-
portunity to commend. She foon perceived that he
thewed particular marks of reſpect to her, when he
thought they would not be perceived by others; and
that he endeavoured to recommend himſelf by an offi-
cious
NO. VIIT.
40
THE ADVENTURER.
cious alliduity, and a diligent attention to the moſt
minute circumſtances that might contribute to her
pleaſure. But this behaviour of the young gentleman,
however it might gratify her vanity, could not fail to
alarm her fear: ſhe forefaw, that if what, ſhe had re-
marked in his conduct ſhould be perceived by his fa-
ther or fifter, the peace of the family would be de-
ſtroyed; and that ſhe muſt either be ſhipwrecked in the
ſtorm, or thrown overboard to appeaſe it. She there-
fore affected not to perceive, that more than a general
complaiſance was intended by her lover; and hoped
that he would thus be diſcouraged from making an ex-
piicit declaration : but though he was mortified at her
diſregard of that which he knew ſhe could not but fee,
yet he determined to addreſs her in ſuch terms as
ſhould not leave this provoking neutrality in her
power: though he reverenced her virtue, yet he feared
too much thc anger of his father to think of making her
his wife ; and he was too deeply enamoured of her beau-
ty, to relinquiſh his hopes of poſſeſſing her as a miſtreſs.
An opportunity for the execution of his purpoſe was
not long wanting : the received his general profeſſions
of love with levity and merriment; but when ſhe per-
ceived that his view was to ſeduce her to proflitution,
the burſt into tears, and fell back in an agony unable to
ſpeak. He was immediately touched with grief and
remorſe; Iris tenderneſs was alarmed at her diſtreſs, and
his eíteem encreaſed by hier virtue; he catched her in
his arms, and as an atonement for the inſult ſhe had re-
ceived, he offered her marriage: but as her chaſtity
would not fuffcr her to becomc his miſtreſs, neither
would her gratitude permit her to become his wife; and
as ſoon as the was fulliciently recollected, ſhe intreated
VOL. I.
С
him
50
No. VIII,
THE ADVENTURERO
66
66
him never more to urge lier to violate the obligation
ſhe was under either to herſelf or to her benefactor:
" Would not," ſaid ſhe, “ the preſence of a wretch
“ whom you had ſeduced from innocence and peace to
“ remorſe and guilt, perpetually upbraid you; and
would you not always fear to be betrayed by a wife,
“ whoſe fidelity no kindneſs could ſecure ; who had
66 broken all the bands that reſtrain the generous and
* the good; and who by an act of the moſt flagitious
ingratitude had at once reached the pinnacle of
guilt, to which others aſcend by imperceptible gra-
66 dations?"
Theſe objections, though they could neither be ob-
viated nor evaded, had yet no tendency to ſubdue de-
fire; he loved with greater delicacy, but with more ar-
dour; and as he could not always forbear expoſtula-
tions, neither could ſhe always filence them in ſuch a
manner as might moſt effectually prevent their being
repeated. Such was one morning the ſituation of the
two lovers : he had taken her hand into his, and was
ſpeaking with great cagerneſs; while ſhe regarded him
with a kind of timorous complacency, and liſtened to
him with an attention which her heart condemned: his
father, in this tender moment, in which their powers of
perception were mutually engrofled by each other,
came near enough to licar that his heir had made pro-
poſals of marriage, and retired without their know-
ledge.
As he did not dream that ſuch a propoſal could por.
fibly bę rejected by a girl in Melissa's ſituation, ima-
gining that every woman believed her virtue to be in-
violate, if her perfo!i was not proſtituted, he took his
meaſures accordingly. It was near the time in which
liis
NO. VIII.
52.
THE ADVENTURER.
1
his family had been uſed to remove into the country:
he, therefore, gave orders, that every thing ſhould be
immediately prepared for the journey, and that the
coach ihould be ready at fix the next morning, a man
and horſe being diſpatched in the mean time to give no-
tice of their arrival. The young folks were a little
furprized at this ſudden removal; but though the
'[quire was a good-natured man, yet as he governed his
family with high authority, and as they perceived ſome-
thing had offended him, they did not enquire the rea-
fon, nor indeed did they ſuſpect it.
Meliſſa packed
up her things as uſual: and in the morning the young
gentleman and his fifter having by their father's orders
got into the coach, he called Meliſſa into the parlour;
where in a few words, but with great acrimony, he re-
proached her with having formed a deſign to marry his
ſon without his coníent, an act of ingratitude which he
ſaid juſtified him in upbraiding her with the favours
which he had already conferred upon her, and in a re-
ſolution he had taken that a bank bill of fifty pounds,
which he then put into her hand, ſhould be the laſt: ad-
ding, that he expected ſhe ſhould within one week leave
the houſe. To this heavy cliarge ſhe was not in a con.
dition to reply; nor did he ſtay to ſee whether ſlie would
attempt it, but haſtily got into the coach, which imme-
diately drove from the door.
Thus was Meliſſa a third time, by a ſudden and un-
expected deſertion, expoſed to penury and diſtreſi,
with this aggravation, that eaſe and allluence were bo-
come habitual; and that though ſhe was not ſo helples
as at the death of her uncle, ſhe was expoſed to yet
greater danger; for few that have been uſed to lium-
ber upon down, and wake to feſtivity, can refift the a:-
lurements
C 2
1
52
NO. VIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
lurements of vice, who ſtill offers eaſe and plenty, when
the alternative are a flock bed, and a garret, ſhort
meals, coarſe apparel, and perpetual labour.
Méliſia, as ſoon as ſhe had recovered from the ftu-
por which had ſeized her upon to aſtoniſhing and dread-
ful a change of fortune, determined not to accept the
bounty of a perſon who imagined her to be unworthy of
it; nor to attempt her juſtification, while it would ren-
der her veracity ſuſpected, and appear to proceed only
from the hope of being reſtored to a ſtate of fplendid
dependence, from which jealouſy or caprice might again
at any time remove her, without cauſe and without no
tice: ſhe had not, indeed, any hope of being ever able
to defend herſelf againſt her accuſer upon equal terms;
nor did lie know how to ſublift a ſingle day, when ſhe
had returned lis bill and quitted his houſe : yet ſuch
was the dignity of her fpirit, that ſhe immediately in-
cloſed it in a blank cover, directed to him at his coun-
try feat, and calling up the maid who had been left to
take care of the houſe, fent her immediately with it to
the Poſt-ofice. The tears then burſt out, which the
agitation of her mind had before reſtrained; and when
the ſervant returned, ſhe told her all that had happened,
and aſked her advice what ſhe ſhould do. The girl, af-
ter the firſt emotions of wonder and pity had ſubſided,
told her that ſhe had a fifter who lodged in a reputable
houſe, and took in plain work, to whom ſhe would be
welcome, as ſhe could aſſiſt her in her buſineſs, of which
ſhe had often more than ſhe could do; and with whom
ſhe might continue till fome more eligible ſituation
could be obtained. Meliſſa liſtened to this propoſal as
to the voice of Heaven; her mind was ſuddenly, from
the moſt tormenting perplexity, from the dread of wan-
dering
No. VIII.
THE ADVENTURER
53
dering about without money or employment, expoſed to
the menaces of a beadle, or the inſults of the rabble : the.
was in hafte to ſecure her good fortune, and felt ſome
degree of pain left the ſhould loſe it by the carlier ap-
plication of another; fhe tlierefore went immediately
with the inaid to her filter, with whom it was ſoon
agreed that Meliſſa ſhould work for her board and
lodging ; for ſhe would not conſent to accept-as a gift,
that which ſhe could by any means deſerve as á pay.
ment.
While Meliſſa was a journeywoman to a perſon, who:
but a few weeks before would have regarded her with
envy, and approached her with confufion; it happened
that a ſuit of linen was brought from the milliner's
wrapped up in a news-paper: the linen was put into the
work-baſket, and the paper being thrown careleſsly a-
bout, Meliſſa at laſt catched it up, and was about to
read it; but perceiving that it had been publiſhed a
fortnight, was juſt going to put into the fire, when by an:
accidental glance ſhe faw her father's name : this imme-
diately engaged her attention, and with great pertur-
bation of mind the read an advertiſement, in which her
father, ſaid to have left his friends about eighteen
years before, and to have entered cither into the army
or the navy, was directed to apply to a perſon in Sta-
ples Inn, who could inform him of ſomething greatly to
his advantage. To this perſon Meliffa applied with all
the ardor of curioſity, and all the tumult of expectation ;
ſhe was informed that the elder brother of the perlon
mentioned in the advertiſement was lately dead, unmar-
ried ; that he was poffefied of fifteen hundred a year,
ñve hundred of which had defcended to him from his,
father, and one thouſand had been left him by an uncle;
whicla
C3
54
No. VIII.
TRE ADVENTURER.
which upon his death, there being no male heir, had
been claimed by his fifters ; but that a miſtreſs who had
lived with himn many years, and who had been treated
by the ſuppoſed heirelles with too much feverity and
contempt, had in the bitterneſs of her reſentment pub-
liſhed the advertiſement, having heard in the family that
there was a younger brother abroad.
The condict of different paſſions that were at once
excited with uncommon violence in the breaſt of Me-
liffa, deprived her for a time of the power of reflection ;
and when ſhe became more calm, Mic knew not by what
method to attempt the recovery of her right : her mind
was bewildered amidſt a thouſand poſſibilities, and di-
ſtreſſed by the apprehenſion that all miglit prove inef-
fectual. After much thought and many projects, ſhe
recollected that the captain, whoſe ſervant brought her
to England, could probably afford her more aſſiſtance
than any other perſon: as he had been often pointed out
to her in public places by the 'ſquire, to whom her ſto-
ry was well known, ſhe was acquainted with his perſon,
and knew that within a few months he was alive: ſhe
fcon obtained directions to his houſe, and being readily
admitted to a conference, ſhe told him with as much
preſence of mind as ſhe could, that ſhe was the perſon
whom his compaſſion had contributed to preſerve when
an infant; in confirmation of which, ſhe produced his let-
ter, and the certificate which it incloſed; that by the
death of her father's elder brother, whoſe family ſhe
had never known, ſhe was become entitled to a very
conſiderable eſtatc; but that ſhe knew not what evi-
dence would be neceſſary to ſupport her claim, how ſuch
evidence was to be produced, nor with whom to entruſt
the management of an affair in which wealth and influ-
ence
No. VIII.
55
TNE ADVENTURER.
66 with
ence would be employed againſt her. The old captain
received her with that cafy politeneſs which is almoſt
peculiar to his profeſſion, and with a warmth of bene-
volence that is ſeldom found in any: he congratulated
her upon ſo happy and unexpected an event; and with-
out the parade of oftentatious liberality, without ex-
torting an explicit confeſſion of her indigence, he gave
her a letter to his lawyer, in whom he ſaid ſhe might
with the utmoſt ſecurity confide, and with whom the
would have nothing more to do than to tell her ſtory :
And do not," ſaid he,“ doubt of ſucceſs, for I will
“ be ready to teſtify what I know of the affair, when-
ever I ſhall be called upon; and the woman who was
“ preſent at your birth, and brought you over, ſtill lives
me,
and upon this occafion may do you ſignal
« fervice."
Meliffa departed, melted with gratitude and elated
with hope. The gentleman, to whom the captain's let-
ter was a recommendation, proſecuted her claim with
ſo much ſkill and afliduity, that within a few months. The
was put into the poſſeſſion of her eſtate. Her firſt care
was to wait upon the captain, to whom ſhe now owed
not only life but a fortune: he received her acknow-
ledgments with a plealure, which only thoſe who merit
it can enjoy; and inſiſted that ſhe ſhould draw upon him
for ſuch ſums as the ſhould want before her rents be-
came due. She then took very handſome ready-fur-
niſhed lodgings, and determined immediately to jufiiy
her concluct to the 'ſquire, whoſe kindneſs the fill re-
membered, and whofe reſentment fhe had forgiven.
With this view ſhe ſet out in a chariot and fix, attended
by two ſervants in livery on horſeback, and proceeded
to his country-ſeat, froin whence the family was not re-
turned :
C4
56
NO. VIII.
"THE ADVENTURER.
:
turned : ſhe had lain at an inn within fix miles of the
place, and when the chariot drove up to the door, as it
was early in the morning; ſhe could perceive the fer-
rants run to and fro in a hurry, and the young lady and
her brother gazing thrcugh the window to ſee if they
knew the livery : ſhe remarked every circumſtance
which denoted her own importance with exultation ;
and enjoyed the ſolicitude which her preſence pro-
cuced among thoſe, from whoſe ſociety ſhe had fo late-
ly been driven with diſdain and indignation.
She now increaſed their wonder, by ſending in a fer-
vant to acquaint the old gentleman, that a lady defired
10 fpeak with him about urgent buſineſs, which would
110t however long detain him: he courteouſly invited
the lady to honour him with her commands, halted in-
to his beſt parlour, adjuſted his wig, and put himſelf in
the beſt order to receive her: ſhe alighted, and diſ-
pilayed a very ricii undreſs, which correſponded with
the elegance of her chariot, and the modiſh appearance
of her fervants. She contrived to hide her face as the
went up the walk, that ſhe might not be known too
ivon; and was immediately introduced to her old
friend, to whom ſhe foon diſcovered herſelf to liis great
aſtoniſhment, and before he had recovered his preſence.
of mind, the addrefled him to this effect, “ You ſee,
tó fir, an orphan who is under the greateſt obligations
" to your bounty, but who has been equally injured by
your ſuſpicions. When I was a dependent upon
your liberality, I would not affert my innocence, be-
“ cauſe I could not bear to be ſuſpected of falſehood :
us but I aſſert it now I am the poffeffor of a paternal
os eſtate, becauſe I cannot bear to be ſuſpected of in-
gratitude: that your fon prefl'ed me to marry him, is
66
66
11110
5. VII.
57
THE ADVENTURER.
true ; but it is alſo true that I refuſed him, becauſe
** I would not diſappoint your hopes and impoveriſh:
“ your poſterity." The old gentleman's confufion
was increaſed by the wonders that crowded upon him :
he firſt made foine attempts to apologize for his fufpi-
cions with aukwardneſs and heſitation ; then doubting
the truth of appearance, he broke off abruptly and re-
mained ſilent; then reproaching himſelf, he began to
congratulate her upon her good fortune, and again de-
fifted before he had finiſhed the compliment. Melif-
fa perceived his perplexity, and guefled the cauſe; ſhe
was, therefore, about to account more particularly for
the ſudden change of her circumſtances, but miſs,
whoſe maid had brought her intelligence from the ſer-
vants, that the lady's name who was with her papa was
Meliſſa, and that ſhe was lately come to a great eſtate
by the death of her uncle, could no longer reſtrain the
impatience of her affection and joy ; ſhe ruſhed into the
room and fell upon her neck, with a tranſport that can
only be felt by friendíhip, and expreſſed by tears.
When this tender ſilence was paſt, the ſcruples of
doubt were foon obviated; the reconciliation was reci-
procal and fincere; the father led out his gueſt, and
preſented her to his ſon with an apology for his con- :
duct to them both.
Meliſſa had beſpoke a dinner and beds at the inn, but
ſhe was not ſuffered to return. Within a few weeks
ſhe became the daughter of her friend, who gave her
hand to his ſon, with whom ſhe ſhared many years that
happineſs which is the reward of virtue. They had fe.
veral children, but none ſurvived them; and Mobifa,
yon the death of her huſband, which happened about
C5
ſeven
1
58
No. IX.
THE ADVENTURER.
ſeven years ago, retired wholly from town to her eſtate
in the country, where the lived beloved, and died in
peace.
1
No. IX. Tueſday, December 5. 1752.
Εν προτέροις θηκη διδασκαλιην VET. EPIGR.
He hung th' inſtructive ſymbol o'er his door-
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
I Siould be ſorry to take off your attention from mat-
ters of great moment; and to divert you from the fpe-
culation of faults, that preſent themſelves directly be-
fore your eyes, by defiring you to contemplate the
enormities that hang over your head. It has been
cuſtomary, I know, with your writers of eſſays, to treat
the ſubject of figns in a very ludicrous manner : for my
part, I cannot help thinking, that it deſerves a more fé-
rious confideration. The attacks of your predeceffors
on the abſurdities which tradeſmen uſually commit in
theſe pendent advertiſements, have been very flight,
and conſequently have produced no falutary effect :
blunders have to this day been handed from maiter to
'prentice, without any regard paid to their semonſtran-
ces; and it is left to the ſturdy Adventurer, if he
pleaſes
No. IX.
59
TAE ADVENLURDR.
pleaſes, to combat theſe monſtrous incongruitics, and to
regulate their Babel like confuiion.
I am at preſent but an humble journeyman fign-
painter in Harp-alley : for though the ambition of my
parents deſigned that I ſhould emulate the immortal
touches of a Raphael or a Titian, yet the want of taſte
among my countrymen, and their prejudice againſt eve-
ry artiſt who is a native, have degraded me to the mi-
ferable neceſſity, as Shafteſbury ſays, “ of illuſtrating
prodigies in fairs, and adorning heroic fign-poſts."
However, as I have ſtudied to improve even this
meaneſt exerciſe of the pencil, I intend to ſet ир
for
myſelf; and, under the favour of your countenance, to
reduce the vague practice of figa-painting to fome
ſtandard of elegance and propriety.
It cannot be doubted, but that figns were intended
originally to expreſs the ſeveral occupations of their
owners ; and to bear ſome affinity in their external de-
fignations, with the wares to be diſpoſed of, or the bu-
ſineſs carried on within. Hence the hand and ſhears is
juftly appropriated to tailors; as the hand and pen is
to writing-maſters ; though the very reverend and right
worthy order of my neighbours, the Fleet-parfons,
have aſſumed it to themſelves as a mark of “
“ riages performed without impofition.” The wool-
pack plainly points out to us a woollen-draper ; the na-
ked boy elegantly reminds us of the neceſity of cloth-
ing; and the Golden Fleece figuratively denotes the
riches of our ſtaple commodity : but are not the hen
and chickens and the three pigeons, the unqueſionable
right of the poulterer ; and not to be uſed by the ven-
ders of filk or linen?
C6
f;;
mar
69No. IX.-
.
.
THE ADVENTURER..
It would be endleſs to enumerate the groſs blunders
committed in this point, by almoſt every branch of
úrade. I ſhall therefore confine myſelf chiefly to the
numerous fraternity of publicans, whoſe extravagance
in this affair calls loudly for reprehenſion and reſtraint.
Their modeſt anceſtors were contented with a plain
Lough ſtuck up before their doors : whence aroſe the
wiſe proverb, “Good wine needs no buſh :” but how
have they fince deviated from their ancient fimplicity!
They have ranſacked earth, air, and ſeas; called down
fun, moon and ſtars, to their aſliſtance, and exhibited-
all the monſters that ever teemed from fantaſtic imagi-
nation. Their hogs in armour, their blue boars, black
bears, green dragons, and golden lions, have alrea.
dy been ſufficiently expoſed by your brother eſſay
writers :
Sus horridus, atraque Tigris,
squamoſufque Draco, er fulvá cervice Lecena.
VIRG.
With foamy tuſks to ſeem a briſtly boar,
Or imitate the lion's angry roar ;
Or hiſs a.dragon, cr a tyger ſtare.
DrydEN•
It is no wonder that theſe gentlernen, who indulge
themſelves in ſuch unwarrantable liberties, ſhould have
ſo little regard to the choice of ſigns adapted to their
myſtery. There can be no objection made to the
bunch of grapes, the rummer, or the tuns : but would
not any one enquire for a lioſier at the leg, or for a
lockſmith at the Croſs-keys? And who would expect
any
:
Noi IX:
THE ADVENTURER.
61
any thing but water to be fold at the Fountain? The
Turk’s Head may fairly intimate that a ſeraglio is kept
within : The Rofe may be ſtrained to ſome propriety
of meaning, as the buſineſs there tranſacted may be ſaid
to be done :“ under the Roſe :?" but why muſt the An-
gel, the Lamb, and the Mitre, bé the deſignations of
the ſeats of drunkenneſs or proſtitution?
Some regard ſhould likewiſe be paid by tradeſmen to
their ſituation ; or, in other words, to the propriety of
the place: and in this too the publicans are notoriouſly
faulty. The King's Arms, and the Star and Garter,
are aptly enough placed at the court end of the town,
and in the neighbourhood of the Royal Palace ;
Shakeſpeare's Head takes his ſtation by one Play-
houſe, and Ben Johnſon's by the other : Hell is a public
houſe adjoining to Weſtminſter-hall, as the Devil Ta.
vern is to the Lawyers quarters in the Temple: but
what has the Crown to do by the 'Change, or the Gun,
the Ship or the. Anchor, any where but at Tower-
hill, at Wapping, or Deptford ?
It was certainly from a noble fpirit of doing honour.
to a ſuperior defert, that our forefathers uſed to hang
out the heads of thoſe who were particularly eminent
in their profeſſious. Hence we fee Galen and Paracel-
fus exalted before the ſhops of chemiſts; and the great
names of Tully, Dryden, Pope, &c. immortalized on
the rubic poſts of bookſellers, while their heads deno-
minate the learned repoſitories of their works. But I
know not whence it happened that publicans have
claimed a right to the phyfiognomies of kings and he-
roes; as I cannot find out, by the moſt painful reſearches,
that there is any alliance between them. Lebec, as he
was an excellent cook, is the fit repreſentative of
luxury,
62
No. IX.
THE ADVENTURER.
luxury; and Broughton, that renowned athletic cham-
pion, has an indiſputable right to put up his own head,
if he pleaſes : but what reaſon can there be, why the
glorious Duke William ſhoald draw porter, or the
brave Admiral Vernon retail flip? Why muſt Queen
Anne keep a gin ſhop, and King Charles inform us of
a ſkettle ground ? Propriety of character, I think, re..
quires, that theſe illuſtrious perſonages fhould be de-
poſed from their lofty ſtations, and I would recommend
hereafter that the Alderman's effigy ſhould accompany
his intire butt beer, and that the comely face of that
public-ſpirited patriot, “ who firſt reduced the price of
punch, and raiſed its reputation pro bono publico,
fhould be ſet up wherever three-pen’orth of warm
rum is to be foid.
I have been uſed to conſider ſeveral ſigns, for the
frequency of which it is difficult to give any other rea-
fon, as ſo many hieroglyphics with a hidden meaning,
ſatirizing the follies of the people, or conveying in-
ſtruction to the paffer by. I am afraid that the ſtale
jeſt on our fober citizens gave riſe to ſo many horns in
the public ſtreets; and the number of caſtles floating
with the wind, was probably deſigned as a ridicule on
thoſe erected by foaring projectors. Tumbledown
Dick in the borough of Southwark, is a fine moral on
the inſtability of greatnefs and the conſequences of am-
bition: but there is a moſt ill-natured ſarcaſm againſt the
fair ſex exhibited, on a ſign in Broad St. Giles's, of a
headleſs female figure, called the Good Woman :
Quale
*
No. IX.
63
THE ADVENTURER.
Quale portentum, neque militaris
Daunia in latis alit eſculetis ;
Nec Jubre tellis generat, leonum
Arida nutriz.
و
Hor.
No beaſt of ſuch portentous ſize
In warlike Daunia's foreſt lies,
Nor ſuch the tawny lion reigns
Fierce on his native Afric's thirſty plains.
FRANCIS.
A diſcerning eye may alſo diſcover in many of our
figns evident marks of the religion prevalent among us
before the Reformation. Saint George, as the tutelary
ſaint of this nation, may eſcape the cenfure of ſuper-
ſtition : but St Dunſtan with his tongs ready to take
hold of Satan's noſe, and the legions of angels, nuns,
croffes, and holy lambs, certainly had their origin in
the days of popery.
Among the many ſigns, which are appropriated to
fome particular buſineſs, and yet have not the leaſt con-
nection with it, I cannot, as yet, find any relation be-
tween blue balls and pawnbrokers; nor could I con-
ceive the intent of that long pole jutting out at the
trance of a barber's ſhop, till a friend of mine, a learned
etymologiſt and gloffariographer, aſſured me, that the
uſe of this pole took its riſe from the corruption of an
old Engli word. " It is probable," ſays he," that
our primitive tonſors uſed to ſtick up a wooden
" block, or head, or poll, as it was then called, before
" their ſhop windows, to denote their occupation; and
" that afterwards, through a confounding of different
things with a like pronunciation, they put up that
parti-
66
54
No. IX.
THE ADVENTURER:
“ parti-coloured ſtaff of an enormous length, which is
now called a pole, and appropriated only to barbers.”
The ſame obſervations might be extended to other
methods that tradeſmen make uſe of to attract tlie
public notice. Thus, the card manufacturers ſtamp
upon their packs the figure perhaps of Harry the Eighth,
or the Great Mogul, though I cannot find in hiſtory,
that either of theſe monarchs played at cards : It would
therefore be more in character to give us a picture of
the groom-porter, or of that maſter of the ſcience, the
celebrated Hoyle, who has compoſed an elaborate
reatiſe on every faſhionable game.
I could point out to you many more enormities; but
left I ſhould exceed the limits of your paper, I ſhall at.
preſent conclude with affuring you, that I am
Your devoted humble ſervant,
PHILIP CARMINE:
N.
No. X
65
THE ADVENTURER -
No. X. Saturday, December 9. 17:52.
Da, Pater, auguftam menti confcendere fedem ;
Da fontem luftrare boni; da, luce reperta,
L. Te conſpicuos animi defigere vifus !
BoETHI..
Give me, O Father, to thy throne acces, .
Unſhaken ſeat of endleſs happineſs!
Give me, unveil'd, the fource of good to fee!
Give me thy light, and fix mine eyes on thee!
Nothing has offended me more, than the manner in.
which ſubjects of eternal moment, are often treated.
To diſpute on moral and theological topics is become:
a faſhion ; and it is uſual with perſons, of whom it is
no reproach to ſay they are ignorant, becauſe their op-
portunities of gaining knowledge have been few, to de
termine with the utinoſt confidence upon queſtions to
which no human intelleet is equal. In almoſt every ta-
vern and every alehouſe, illiterate petulance prates of
fitneſs and virtue, of freedom and fate; and it is com-
mon to hear diſputes concerning everlaſting happineſs
and miſery, the mylteries of religion and the attributes
of God, intermingled with lewdneſs and blafphemy, or
at
1
66
No. X.
THE ADVENTURER.
>
at leaſt treated with wanton negligence and abſurd mer-
riment.
For lewdneſs and blafphemy, it is hoped, no apology
will ſeriouſly be offered: and it is probable, that if the
queſtion in debate was, which of the diſputants ſhould
be hanged on the morrow, it would be conducted with
decency and gravity, as a matter of fome importance;
that riſible good humour, and that noble freedom, of
which they appear to be fo fond, would be thought not
well to agree with their ſubject; nor would either of
the gentlemen be much delighted, if an argument in-
tended to demonſtrate that he would within a few
hours be ſuſpended on a gibbet, ſhould be embeliſhed
with a witły alluſion to a button and loop, or a jocular
remark that it would eifectually ſecure him from futute
accidents either by land or water : and yet the juſtice
and mercy of omnipotence, the life and death of the
foul, are treated with ridicule and sport; and it is con-
tended, that with ridicule and Sport they ought always
to be treated.
But the effect, as weil as the manner of theſe fa-
ſhionable diſputes, is always ill: They tend to eſtabliſh
what is called natural religion, upon the ruins of
Chriſtianity; and a man has no 1000.- ftiled himſelf a
moral philoſopher, than he finds that his duty both to
God and man is contracted into a very finall compaſs,
and may be practiſed with the greateſt facility. Yet
as this effect is not always apparent, the unwary are
frequently deluded into fatal error; and imagine they
are attaining the higheſt degree of moral excellence,
while they are intenſibly lofing the principles upon
which alone temptation can be refilted, and a ſteady
perſeverance in well-doing ſecured.
Among
No. X.
67
THE ADVENTURER.
Among other favourite and unſuſpected topics, is the
excellency of virtue. Virtue is ſaid neceffarily to pro-
duce its own happineſs, and to be conſtantly and ade-
quately its own reward ; as vice on the contrary, ne-
ver fails to produce miſery, and inflict upon itſelf the
puniſhment it deſervas; propoſitions, of which every
one is ready to affirm, that they may be admitted with
out ſcruple, and believed without danger. But, from
hence it is inferred, that future rewards and puniſh-
ments are not neceſſary, either to furniſh adequate mo.
tives to the practice of virtue, or to juſtify the ways of
God. In conſequence of their being not neceſſary, they
become doubtful; the Deity is leſs and leſs the object
of fear and hope; and as virtue is ſaid to be that which
produces ultimate good below, whatever is ſuppoſed
to produce ultimate good below is ſaid to be virtue :
right and wrong are confounded, becauſe remote con-
fequences cannot perfectly be known; the principal
barrier, by which appetite and paſſion are reſtrained, is
broken down; the remonſtrances of conſcience are
overborn by ſophiſtry; and the acquired and habitual
ſhame of vice is ſubdued by the perpetual efforts of vi-
gorous reſiſtance.
But rhe inference from which theſe dreadful conſe-
quences proceed, however plaufible, is not juſt; nor
does it appear from experience, that the premiſes are
1
true.
That virtue alone is happineſs below, is indeed a
maxim in fpeculative morality, which all the treaſures
of learning have been laviſhed to ſupport, and all the
flowers of wit collected to recommend; it has been the
favourite of ſome among the wiſeſt and beſt of man-
kind in every generation ; and is at once venerable for
ite
68
No. X
THS ADVENTURER..
its age, and lovely in the bloom of a new youth. And
yet if it be allowed, that they who languiſh in diſeaſe
and indigence, who ſuffer pain, hunger and nakedneſs,
in obfcurity and folitude, are leſs happy than thoſe,
who, with the fame degree of virtue, enjoy health, and
cafe, and plenty, who are diftinguished by fame, and
courted by fociety; it fcilows, that virtue alone is not
efficient of happineſs, becauſe virtue cannot always be-
ftow theſe things upon which happineſs is confeſſed to
depend.
It is indeed true, that virtue in proſperity enjoys
more than vice, and that in adverſity flie ſuffers leſs: If
.proſperity and adverſity, therefore, were merely acci-
dental to virtue and vice, it might be granted, that,
ſetting aſide thoſe things upon which moral conduct has
no influence, as foreign to the queſtion, every man is
happy, either negatively or poſitively, in proportion as
he is virtuous ; though it were denied that virtue alone
could put into his poffeffion all that is effential to hu-
man felicity.
But proſperity and adverſity, affluence and want, are:
not independent upon moral conduct : External advan-
tages are frequently obtained by vice, and forfeited by
virtue; for, as an eſtate may be gained by ſecreting a
will, or loading a die, an eſtate may alſo be loit by
withholding a vote, or rejecting a job.
Are external advantages then too light to turn the
ſcale? Will an act of virtue, by wirich all are rejccied,
enſure more happineſs than an act of vice, by which all
are procured ? Are the advantages, which an eſtate ob-
iained by an act of vice beſtows, overbalanced through
life by regret and remorſe ? and the indigerce and con-
tumely that follows the loſs of conveniencies, which.
virtue
No. X.
69
THE ADVENTURER.
virtue has rejeaed, more than compenſated by content
and ſelf-approbation?
That which is ill gotten is not always ill uſed; nor
is that which is well rejected always remembered with-
-out regret. It is not to be ſuppoſed that he, who by
an act of fraud gained the poſſeſſion of a thouſand
pounds a year, which he ſpends in ſuch a gratification
of his appetites and paſſions as is conſiſtent with health
and reputation, in the reciprocation of civilities among
his equals, and ſometimes in acts of bounty and muni-
ficence, and who uſes the power and influence which it
gives him ſo as to conciliate affection and procure re-
ſpect; he has leſs happineſs below, than if by a ſtronger
effort of virtue he had ontinued in a ſtate of depen-
dence and poverty, neglected and deſpiſed, deſtitute of
any other means to exerciſe the ſocial affections than
mutual condolence with thoſe who ſuffer the fame cala-
mity, and almoſt wiſhing, in the bitterneſs of his diſtreſs,
that he had improved the opportunity which he had
loft.
It may indeed be urged, that the happineſs and infc-
licity of both theſe ſtates, are ſtill in exact proportion
to virtue: that the affluence, which was acquired by a
ſingle act of vice, is enjoyed only by the exerciſe of
virtue; and that the penury incurred by a ſingle effort
of virtue, is rendered aftliclive only by impatience and
diſcontent.
But whether this be granted or denied, it remains
true that the happineſs in both theſe ftatcs is not equal;
and that in one the means to enjoy life were ac-
quired by vice, which in the other were loſt by virtue.
And if it be poſſible, by a ſingle act of vice, to encreaſe
Happineſs upon the whole of life; from what rational
motives
no
No. X.
THE ADVENTURER.
motives can the temptation to that act be reſiſted?
From none, ſurely, but ſuch as ariſe from the belief of
a future ftate, in which virtue will be rewarded and
vice puniſhed; for to what can happincſs be wiſely fa-
crificed, but to greater happineſs? and liow can the
ways of God be juſtified, if a man by the irreparable
injury of his neighbour becomes happier upon the
whole, than he would have been if he had obſerved the
eternal rule, and done to another as he would that ano-
ther ſhould do to him?
Perhaps I may be told, that to talk of facrificing hap-
pineſs to greater happineſs, as virtue, is abſurd; and
that he who is reſtrained from fraud or violence, mere-
ly by the fear of hell, is no more virtuous than he who
is reſtrained merely by the fear of a gibbet.
But fuppoſing this to be true, yet with reſpect to fo-
ciety, mere extcrnal rectitude of conduct anſwers all
the purpoſes of virtue; and if I travel without being
robbed, it is of little conſequence to me, whether the
perſons whom I meet on the road were reſtrained from
attempting to invade my property by the fear of pu-
niſhment, or the abhorrence of vice: ſo that the gibbet,
if it does not produce virtue, is yet of ſuch inconteſti-
ble utility, that I believe thoſc gentlemen would be ve-
ry unwilling that it ſhould be removed, who are, not-
withſtanding, ſo zealous to ſteel every breaſt againſt the
fear of damnation; nor would they be content, however
negligent of their ſouls, that their property ſhould be
otherwiſe ſecured, than by the power of moral beauty,
and the prevalence of ideal enjoyments.
If it be aſked, how moral agents became the fubjects
of accidental and adventitious happineſs and miſery ; and
why they were placed in a ſtate in which it frequently
happens
I
No. X.
71
THE ADVENTURER.
happens, that virtue only alleviates calamity, and vice
only moderates delight; the anſwer of revelation is
known, and it muſt be the taſk of thoſe who reject it
to give it a better : It is enough for me to have proved
that man is at preſent in ſuch a ſtate : I pretend not to
trace the “ unſearchable ways of the Almighty,” nor
attempt to penetrate the darkneſs that ſurrounds his
" throne :” but amidſt this enlightened generation, in
which ſuch multitudes can account for apparent obli-
quities and defects in the natural and the moral world,
I am content with an humble expectation of that time, in
which 66
every thing that is crooked ſhall be made
ſtraight, and every thing that is imperfect ſhall be
66 done away.”
No. XI.
72
No. XI.
THE ADVENTURER.
1
No. XI. Tueſday, December 12. 1752.
Ile potens fui.
Lætufque deget, cui licet in diem.
Dizile, vixi.
HOR.
Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to day his own;
He, who ſecure within can ſay,
To-morrow do thy worſt, for I have liv'd to-day.
DRYDEN,
To the ADVENTURER.
Sir,
It is the fate of all thoſe who do not live in neceſſary
or accidental obſcurity, who neither paſs undiftinguiſhed
through the vale of poverty, nor hide themſelves in the
groves of folitude, to have a numerous acquaintance and
few friends.
An acquaintance is a being who meets us with a
ſmile and a ſalute, who tells us in the ſame breath that
he is glad and ſorry for the moſt trivial good and
ill that befals us, and yet who turns from us with-
out regret, who ſcarce wiſhes to ſee us again, who
forſakes us in hopeleſs fickneſs or adverſity, and
when we die remembers us no more. A friend is
he with whom our intereſi is united, upon whoſe par-
ticipation all our pleaſures depend; who fooths us in the
fretfulneſs
No. XI.
73
THE ADVENTURER.
fretfulneſs of diſeaſe, and cheers us in the gloom of a
priſon; to whom when we die even our remains are fa-
cred, who follows them with tears to the grave, and
preſerves our image in his heart. A friend our cala-
mities may grieve, and our wants may impoveriſh, but
neglect only can offend, and unkindneſs alienate. Is it
of therefore aſtoniſhing, that a friend fiould ever be
alienated or offended ? and can there be a ſtronger in-
ſtance of the folly and caprice of mankind, than their
with-holding from thoſe, upon whom their happineſs is
confeſſed to depend, that civility which they laviſh u-
pon others, without hope of any higher reward than a
trivial and momentary gratification of their vanity, by
an echo of their compliments and a return of their
obeiſance ?
Of this caprice there are none who have more cauſe
to complain than myſelf. That I am a perſon of ſome
importance has never yet been diſputed : I am allowed
to have great power to pleaſe and to inſtruct; I al-
ways contribute to the felicity of thoſe by whom I am
well treated ; and I muſt confeſs, that I am
abuſed without leaving marks of my reſentment behind
never
me.
I am generally regarded as a friend; and there are
few who could think of parting with me for the laſt
time, without the utmoſt regret, ſolicitude, and reluc-
tance. I know, wherever I come, that I have been the
object of deſire and hope ; and that the pleaſure which
I am expected to diffufe, has, like all others, been en-
joyed by anticipation. By the young and gay, thoſe
who are entering the world either as a ſcene of buſineſs
or pleaſure, I am frequently deſired with ſuch impa-
tience, that although every moment brings on wrin-
VOL. I.
D
kles
ya
No. XI.
THE ADVENTURER.
kles and decrepitude with irreſiſtible rapidity, that they
will be willing that the time of my abſence ſhould be
annihilated, and the approach of wrinkles and decre-
pitude rendered yet more precipitate. There cannot
furely be ſtronger evidence than this of my influence
upon their happineſs, or of their affection for me : and
yet the tranſport with which I am at firſt received
quickly fubfides; they appear to grow weary of my
company, they would again ſhorten life to haſten the
hour of my departure, and they reflect upon the length
of my viſit with regret.
To the aged I confeſs I am not able to procure
equal advantages; and yet there are ſome of theſe who
have been remarkable for their virtue, among whom I
experience more conſtant reciprocations of friendſhip.
I never heard that they expreffed an impatient expec-
tation of me when abſent, nor do they receive me with
rapture when I come; but while I ſtay they treat me
with complacency and good-humour; and in proportion
as their firſt addreſs is leſs violent, the whole tenour of
their conduct is more equal : they ſuffer me to leave
them in an evening without importunity to prolong my
viſit, and think of my departure with indifference.
You will, perhaps, imagine, that I am diſtinguiſhed
by ſome ſtrange fingularity, of which the uncommon
treatment that I receive is a conſequence. As few can
judge with impartiality of their own character, none
are believed merely upon their own evidence who af-
firm it to be good: I will therefore deſcribe to you the
manner in which I am received by perſons of very dif-
ferent ſtations, capacities, and employments. The facts
ſhall be exhibited without falſe colouring; I will nei-
ther ſuppreſs, ſoften, nor exaggerate any circumſtance,
by
I
No. XI.
5
THE ADVENTURER.
by which the natural and genuine ſtate of theſe facts
may be diſcovered, and I know that your fagacity will
do me juſtice.
In ſummer I riſe very early, and the firſt perſon that
I ſee is a peaſant at his work, who generally regards
me with a ſmile, though he feldom participates of my
bounty. His labour is ſcarce ever fufpended while I
am with him; yet he always talks of me with compla-
cency, and never treats me with neglect or indecorum,
except parhaps on a holiday, when he has been tip-
pling; and this I can eaſily overlook, though he com-
monly receives a hint of his fault the next morning,
that he may be the more upon his guard for the fun
ture.
But though in the country I have reaſon to be beſt
ſatisfied with the behaviour of thoſe whom I firſt ſee,
yet in my early walks in town I am almoſt fure to be
inſulted. As ſoon as the wretch, who has paſſed the
night at a tavern, or a gaming table, perceives me at a
diſtance, he begins to mutter curſes againſt me, though
he knows they will be fulfilled upon himſelf, and is im-
patient till he can bar his door, and hide himſelf in
bed.
I have one fifter, and though her complexion is very
dark, yet ſhe is not without her charms : ſhe is, I con-
fels, ſaid to look beit by candle-light, in her jewels, a::d
at a public place, where the fplendor of her dreſs, and
the multiplicity of other objects, prevent too minute an
examination of her perſon. Some good judges have
fancied, though perhaps a little whimſically, that there
is ſomething inexpreſſibly pleaſing in her by moor-
light, a kind of placid eaſe, a gentle languor, which fof-
tens her features, and gives new grace to her manner :
they
D 2
76
No. XI.
THE ADVENTURER.
they ſay too, that ſhe is beſt diſpoſed to be agreeable
company in a walk, under the checquered ſhade of a
grove, along the green banks of a river, or upon the
ſandy beach by the ſea.
My ſiſter's principles in many particulars differ from
mine : but there has been always ſuch a harmony be-
tween us, that ſhe feldom (miles upon thoſe who have
ſuffered me to paſs with a contemptuous negligence;
inuch leſs does ſhe uſe her influence, which is very
great, to procure any advantage for thoſe who drive me
from their preſence with outrage and abuſe ; and yet
none are more aſſiduous in their addreſſes, nor intrude
longer upon her privacy, than thoſe who are moſt im-
placably my enemies.
She is generally better received by the poor, than the
rich; add indeed ſhe ſeldom viſits the indigent and the
wretched, without bringing ſomething for their relief;
yet thoſe who are moſt ſolicitous to engage her in par-
ties of pleaſure, and are ſeen longeſt in her company,
are always ſuſpected of fome evil deſign.
You will, perhaps, think there is ſomething enigma-
tical in all this; and left you ſhould not yet be able to
diſcover my true character fufficiently to engage you in
my intereſt, I will give you a ſhort hiſtory of the inci-
dents that have happened to me during the laſt eight
hours.
It is now four o'clock in the afternoon: about ſeven
I roſe; ſoon after, as I was walking by the dial in Co.
vent Garden, I was perceived by a man well dreſſed,
who appeared to have been ſleeping under one of the
ſheds, and whom a watchman had juſt told that I was
approaching : after attempting to ſwear ſeveral oatlis,
and ſtaggering a few paces, he ſcowled at me under his
bt, and infulted me indirectly, by telling the watchman
as
No. XI.
77
THE ADVENTURER.
as well as he could, that he had fat in company with
my ſiſter till he became too drunk to find his way home,
which nevertheleſs he had attempted; and that he hated
the fight of me as he hated the devil : he then deſired
that a coach or a chair might be immediately called to
carry him from my preſence.
About nine I viſited a young lady who could not ſee
me, becauſe ſhe was but juſt returned from a rout.. I
went next to a ſtudent in the Temple, who received me
with great joy ; but told me, that he was going to dine
with a gentleman, whoſe daughter he had long courted,
and who at length, by the interpoſition of friends, had
been perfuaded to conſent to the match, though ſeveral
others had offered a large ſettlement. From this inter-
view I had no deſire to detain him; and about twelve I
found a young prodigal, to whoin I had afforded many
opportunities of felicity, which he neglected to im-
prove; and whom I had ſcarce ever left without having
convinced him, that he was waſting life in the ſearch
of pleaſure, which he could never find: he looked upon
me with a countenance full of ſuſpicion, drcad and per-
plexity, and ſeemed to will that I had delayed my vi-
fit, or had been excluded by his ſervant ; imagining, as
I have ſince heard, that a bailiff was behind me. 4f-
ter dinner, I again met ny friend the ſtudent; but
he who had ſo lately received me with extaſy, now
leered at me with a ſullen diſcontent, and if it had been
in his power would have deſtroyed me, for no other
reaſon than becauſe the old gentleman whon lic had vi-
fited had changed his mind.
You may, perhaps, be told, that I am myſelf incon-
ftant and capricious, that I am never the ſame perſon
eight and forty hours together, and that no mati
linowa
D 3
73
No. XI.
THE ADVENTURER,
knows whether at my next viſit I ſhall bring him good
or evil: But identity of perſon might with equal truth
be denied of the Adventurer, and of every other being
upon earth; for all animal bodies are in a ſtate of
per-
petual decay and renovation : fo ridiculous a ſlander
does not indeed deſerve a ſerious reply: and I believe
you are now ready to anſwer every other cayil of my
enemies, by, convincing the world that it is their own
fault if I do not always leave them wiſer and better,
than I find them; and whoever has through life con-
iinued to become gradually wiſer and better, has obo
täined a fource of divine felicity, a well of living water,
which, like the widow's oil, fhall increaſe as it is poured
out, and which, though it was ſupplied by time, eter-
nity ſhall not exhauſt,
I hope, Sir, your paper will be a means of procuring
me better treatment, and that you will yourſelf be fo-
licitous to ſecure the friendſhip of,
Your humble ſervant,
TO-DAY.
No. XII.
i
No. XII.
79
THE ADVENTURER,
No. XII. Saturday, December 16. 1752.
Magnum pauperies opprobrium jubet
Ruidvis aut facere aut pati.
Hor.
He whom the dread of want enſnares,
With baſeneſs acts, with meanneſs bears.
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
(
Of all the expedients that have been found out to al-
leviate the miſeries of life, none is left to deſpair but
complaint: and though complaint, without hope of re-
lief, may be thought rather to encreaſe than mitigate
anguiſh, as it recollects every circumſtance of diſtreſs,
and imbitters the memory of paſt ſufferings by the an-
ticipation of future ; yet, like weeping, it is an indul-
gence of that which it is pain to fufpreſs, and fooths
with the hope of pity the wretch who deſpairs of com-
fort. Of this number is he who now addreſſes you :
yet the folace of complaint and the hope of pity, are
not the only notives that have induced me to commu-
nicate the ſeries of events, by which I have been led
on in an inſenſible deviation from felicity, and at laſt
plunged in irremediable calamity : I wiſh that others
may eſcape perdition ;. and am, therefore, ſolicitous to
D 4
Warn
30
No. XII.
THE ADVENTURER.
warn them of the path, that leads to the precipice from
which I have fallen.
I am the only child of a wealthy fariner, who, as he
was himſelf illiterate, was the more zealous to make
his ſon a ſcholar; imagining that there was in the
knowledge of Greek and Latin, fome ſecret charm of
perpetual influence, which as I pafled through life
would ſmooth the way before me, eſtabliſh the happi-
neſs of ſucceſs, and ſupply new reſources to diſappoint-
ment. But not being able to deny himſelf the plea-
ſure he found in having me about him, inſtead of fend.
ing me out to a boarding ſchool, he offered the curate
of the pariſh ten pounds a-year, and his board, to be-
come my tutor.
This gentleman, who was in years, and had lately
buried his wife, accepted the employinent, bat refufed
the ſalary: the work of education, he ſaid, would
agiceably fill his intervals of leiſure, and happily coin-
cide with the duties of his fundion : but he obſerved
that his curacy, which was thirtyp ounds a year, and
had long fubfifted him when he had a family, would
make him wealthy now he was a ſingle man; and there-
fore he inſiſted to pay for his board : to this my father,
with whatever reluctance, was obliged to conſent. At
the
age of fix years I began to read my accidence un-
der my preceptor; and at fifteen had gone through the
Latin and Greek Claſſics. But the languages were
not all that I learned of this gentleman ; beſides other
fciences of leſs importance, he taught me the theory of
Chriftianity by his precepts, and the practice by his ex-
ample.
As his temper was calm and ſteady, the influence
which he had acquired over me was unlimited: he was
never
No. XII.
81
THE ADVENTURER.
uever capriciouſly ſevere ; ſo that I regarded his dif-
pleaſure not as an effect of his infirmity, but of my
own fault : he diſcovered ſo much affection in the plea-
fure with which he commended, and in the tender con-
cern with which he reproved me, that I loved him as
a father; and his devotion, though rational and manly,
was yet ſo habitual and fervent, that I reverenced him
as a ſaint. I found even my paſſions controuled by an
awe which his preſence impreffed; and by a conſtant
attention to his doctrine and his life, I acquired ſuch a
ſenſe of my connexion with the inviſible world, and
ſuch a conviction of the conſciouſneſs of Deity to all
my thoughts, that every inordinate wiſh was fecretly
ſi!ppreſſed, and my conduct regulated by the inoſt ſcru-
pulous circumſpection.
My father thouglit he had now taken fufficient care
of my education, and therefore began to expect that I
ſhould aſſiſt in overlooking his ſervants, and managing
his farm, in which he intended I ſhould ſucceed him :
but my preceptor, whoſe principal view was not my
temporal advantage, told him, that as a farmer, great
part of my learning would be totally uſeleſs; and that
the only way to make me ferviceable to mankind, in
proportion to the knowledge I had acquired, would be
to ſend me to the univerſity, that at a proper time I
might take orders. But my father, beſides that he
was ſtill unwilling to part with me, had probably many
reaſons againſt my entering the world in a caffock:
ſuch, however, was the deference which he paid to my
tutor, that he had almoſt implicitly ſubmitted to liis
determination, when a relation of my mother's, who
was an attorney of great practice in the Temple, came
to ſpend part of the long vacation at our houſe, in con-
fequence
DS
82
No. XII.
THE ADVENTURER.
feqence of invitations which had been often repeated
during an abſence of many years.
My father thought that an opportunity of conſult-
ing how to diſpoſe of me, with a man ſo well acquaint-
ed with life, was not to be loſt; and perhaps he fe-
cretely hoped, that my preceptor would give up his
opinion as indefenſible, if a perſon of the lawyer's ex-
perience ſhould declare againſt it. My couſin was ae-
cordingly made umpire in the debate; and after he
had heard the arguments on both fides, he declared
againſt my becoming a farmer : he ſaid, it would be an
act of injuſtice to bury my parts and learning in the
obſcurity of rural life; becauſe, if produced to the
world, they would probably be rewarded with wealth,
and diſtinction. My preceptor imagined the queſtion
was now finally determined in his favour; and being
obliged to viſit one of his pariſhioners that was fick;
he gave me a look of congratulation as he went out,
and I perceived his cheek glow with a fluſh of triumph;
and his eye ſparkle with tears of delight.
But he had no ſooner left the room, than my couſin
gave
the converſation another turn; he told my father,
that though he had oppoſed his making me a farmer,
he was not an advocate for my becoming a parſon ; for
that to make a young fellow a parſon, without being
able to procure him a living; was to make him a beg-
gar: he then made ſome witty reflections on the old
gentleman who was juſt gone out;
“ Nobody,” he
ſaid, “ could queſtion his having been put to a bad
trade, who conſidered his circumſtances now he had
6 followed it forty years." And after ſome other
{prightly fallies, which, though they made my father
laugh, made me tremble; he clapped him upon tho
ſhoulder,
No. XII.
83
THE ADVENTURER,
you have a
66
ſhoulder, If
a mind your boy ſhould
** make a figure in life, old gentleman,” ſays he,“ put
bi him clerk to me; my lord chancellor King was no
" better than the ſon of a country ſhopkeeper : and
my maſter gave a perſon of much greater eminence
many a half-crown when he was an attorney's clerk
“ in the next chambers to mine. What ſay you ? ſhall
“ I take him up with me or no ?” My father, who had
liſtened to this propoſal with great eagerneſs, as ſoon
as my couſin had done fpeaking, cried, " A match ;">
and immediately gave him his hand, in token of his
confent. Thus the bargain was ſtruck, and my fate
determined before my tutor came back.
It was in vain that he afterwards objected to the
character of my new maſter, and expreſſed the moſt
dreadful apprehenſions at my becoming an attorney's
clerk, and entering into the ſociety of wretches who
- had been repreſented to him, and perhaps not unjuſtly,
as the moſt profligate upon earth : they do not, indeed,
become worſe than others, merely as clerks; but as
young perſons, who with more money to ſpend in the
gratification of appetite, are fooner than others aban-
doned to their own conduct : for though they are
taken from under the protection of a parent, yet being
fcarce conſidered as in a ſtate of ſervitude, they are not
fufficiently reſtrained by the authority of a maſter..
My father had conceived of my couſin as the beſt-
natured man in the world; and probably was intoxio
cated with the romantic hope of living to ſee me upon
the Bench at Weſtminſter-hall, or of meeting me on
the circuit lolling in my own coach, and attended by a
crowd of the inferior inſtruments of juſtice. He was
not therefore to be moved either by. expoftulation or
D 6
entreaty
84
No. XII.
THE ADVENTURER.
entreaty: and I ſet out with my couſin on horſeback, to
meet the ſtage at a town within a few miles, after hav-
ing taken leave of my father, with a tenderneſs that
melted us both; and received from the hoary ſaint his
laſt inſtructions and benediction, and at length the part-
ing embrace, which was given with the filent ardor of
unutterable wiſhes, and repeated with tears that could
no longer be ſuppreſſed or concealed.
When we were feated in the coach, my couſin be-
gan to make himſelf merry with the regret and diſ-
content that he perceived in my countenance, at leav-
ing a cowhouſe, a hogſtye, and two old grey-pates,
who were contending whether I ſhould be buried in a
farm or a college. I, who had never heard either my
father or my tutor treated with irreverence, could not
conceal my diſpleaſure and reſentment : but he ftill
continued to rally my country ſimplicity with many
allufions which I did not then underſtand, but which
greatly delighted the reſt of the company. The fourth
day-brought us to our journey's end, and my maſter, as
foon as we reached his chambers, ſhook me by the
hand, and bid me welcome to the Temple.
He had been fome years a widower, and his only
child, a daughter, being ſtill at a boarding ſchool, his
family conſiſted only of a man and maid-fervant and
myſelf: for though he had two hired clerks, yet they
lodged and boarded themſelves. The horrid lewd-
neſs and profaneneſs of theſe fellows terrified and dif-
guſted me; nor could I believe that my maſter's pro-
perty and intereſt could be ſafely intruſted with men,
who in every reſpect appeared to be ſo deſtitute of virtue
and relign: I, therefore, thought it my duty to appriſe
him of his danger; and accordingly one day when we
Were
No. XII.
83
THE ADVENTURER.
were at dinner, I communicated my ſuſpicion, and the
reaſon upon which it was founded. The formal ſo
lemnity with which I introduced this converſation, and
the air of importance which I gave to my diſcovery,
threw him into a violent fit of laughter, which
ſtruck me dumb with confuſion and aſtoniſhment. As
foon as he recovered himſelf, he told me, that though
his clerks might uſe ſome expreſſions that I had not
been accuſtomed to hear, yet he believed them to be
very honeft; and that he placed more confidence in
them, than he would in a formal prig, of whom he
knew nothing but that he went every morning and
evening to prayers, and ſaid grace before and after
meat; that as to ſwearing, they meant no harm; and
as he did not doubt but that every young fellow liked
a girl, it was better they ſhould joke about it than be
hypocritical and fly: not that he would be thought to
ſuſpect my integrity, or to blame me for practices,
which he knew to be merely effects of the bigotry and
fuperftition in which I had been educated, and not the
diſguiſes of cunning, or the fubterfuges of guilt.
I was greatly mortified at my couſins behaviour on
this occaſion, and wondered from what cauſe it could
proceed, and why he ſhould fo lightly pafs over thoſe
vices in others, from which he abſtained himſelf; for I
had never heard him ſwear; and as his expreſſions
were not obſcene, I imagined his converſation was
chaíte; in which, however, my ignorance deceived
me, and it was not long before I had reaſon to change
my opinion of his character.
No. XIII
.
86
No. XIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XIII. Tueſday, November 19. 77520
Sic omnia fatis
In pejus ruere, ac retro fublapfa referri:
Non aliter quam qui adverfo vix flumine lembum:
Remigiis fubigit : fi brachia forte remifit,
Atque illum in præceps prono rapit, alveus amni. Virg.
Thus all below, whether by nature's curſe,
Cr fate's decree, degen’rate ſtill to worſe.
So the boat's brawny crew the current ftem,
And, flow advancing, ſtruggle with the ſtream:
But if they ſlack their hands, or ceaſe to ſtrive,
Then down the flood with headlong haſte they drive.
Dryden.
THERE came one morning to inquire for him at his
chambers, a lady who had ſomething in her manner
which caught my attention and excited my curioſity :
her clothes were fine, but the manner in which they
were put on was rather flaunting than elegant; her
addreſs was not eaſy nor polite, but ſeemed to be a
ſtrange mixture of affected ſtate and licentious familia
arity: the looked in the glaſs while ſhe was ſpeaking
to me, and without any confufion, adjuſted her tucker:
ſhe ſeemed rather pleaſed than diſconcerted at being
regarded with earneftneſs; and being told that my
couſin was abroad, ſhe aſked fome trifling queſtions, and
then making a light curtſey, took up the ſide of her
hoop
No. XIII.
87
THE ADVENTURER.
hoop with a jerk that diſcovered at leaſt half her leg,
and hurried down ſtairs.
I could not help inquiring of the clerks, if they knew
this lady; and was greatly confounded when they told
me with an air of ſecrecy, that ſhe was my couſin's
miſtreſs, whom he had kept almoſt two years in lodg-
ings near Covent-garden. At firſt I ſuſpected this in-
formation ; but it was ſoon confirmed by ſo many cira
cumſtances, that I could no longer doubt of its truth.
As my principles were yet untainted, and the in-
fluence of my education was ſtill ſtrong, I regarded
my couſin's ſentiments as impious and deteſtable; and
his example rather ſtruck me with horror, than ſedu-
ced me to imitation. I* Alattered myſelf with hopes of
effecting his reformation, and took every opportunity
to hint the wickedneſs of allowed incontinence ; for
which I was always rallied when he was difpofed to
be merry, and anſwered with the contemptuous fneer
of ſelf-ſufficiency when he was ſullen.
Near four years of my clerkſhip were now expired,
and I had never yet entered the liſts as a diſputant
with my couſin: for though I conceived myſelf to be
much his fuperior in moral and theological learning,
and though he often admitted me to familiar conver-
fation, yet I ſtill regarded the fubordination of a fer-
vant to a maſter, as one of the duties of my ſtation, and
preſerved it with ſuch exactneſs, that I never exceeded
a queſtion or a hint when we were alone, and was al-
ways filent when he had company, though I frequently
heard ſuch poſitions advanced, as made me wonder
that no tremendous token of the divine diſpleaſure im-
mediately followed : but coming one night from the
tavern, warm with wine, and, as I imagined; fluſhed
with
88
No. XIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
1
with polemic ſucceſs, he infifted upon my taking one
glaſs with him before I went to bed; and almoſt as
foon as we were ſeated, he gave me a formal challenge,
by denying all Divine Revelation, and defying me to
prove it.
I now conſidered every diftinction as thrown down,
and ſtood forth as the champion of religion, with that
elation of mind which the hero always feels at the ap-
proach of danger. I thought myſelf ſecure of victory;
and rejoicing that he had now compelled me to do
what I had often wiſhed he would permit, I obliged
him to declare that he ſhould diſpute upon equal
terms, and we began the debate.
But it was not long
before I was aſtoniſlied to find myſelf confounded by
a man, whom I ſaw half drunk, and whoſe learning and
abilities I deſpiſed when he was ſober : for as I had
but very lately diſcovered, that any of the principles
of religion, from the immortality of the ſoul to the
deepeſt myſtery, had been ſo much as queſtioned, all
his objections were new.
v. I was aſſaulted where I had
made no preparation for defence; and having not been
ſo much accuſtomed to difputation, as to conſider, that
in the preſent weakneſs of human intellects, it is much
eaſier to object than anſwer, and that in every difquifi-
tion difficulties are found which cannot be reſolved, I
was overborne by the ſudden onſet, and in the tumult
my
fearch after anſwers to his cavils, forgot to preſs
the poſitive arguments on which religion is eſtabliſhed:
he took advantage of my confuſion, proclaimed his
own triumph, and becauſe I was deprefcd, treated me
as vanquiſhed.
As the event which had thus mortified my pride,
was perpetually revolved in my mind, the fame mil-
of
take
No. XIII.
89
THE ADVENTURER.
1
take ſtill continued : I inquired for ſolutions inſiead
of proofs, and found myſelf more and more entangled
in the ſnares of fophiftry. In ſome other converfa-
tions, which my couſin was now eager to begin, new
difficulties were ſtarted, the labyrinth of doubt grew
more intricate, and as the queſtion was of infinite mo-
ment, my mind was brought into the moſt diſtreſsful
anxiety. I ruminated inceſſantly on the ſubject of our
debate, ſometimes chiding myſelf for my doubts, and
ſometimes applauding the courage and freedom of my
inquiry..
While
my mind was in this ſtate, I heard by acci-
dent that there was a club at an alehouſe in the neigh-
bourhood, where ſuch ſubjects were freely debated, to
which every body was admitted without ſcruple or
formality: to this clnb in an evil hour I reſolved to
go, that I might learn how knotty points were to be
diſcuſſed, and truth diſtinguiſhed from error.
Accordingly on the next club night, I mingled with
the multitude that was aſſembled in this ſchool of folly
and infidelity : I was at firſt diſguſted at the grofs ig-
norance of ſome, and ſhocked at the horrid blafphemy
of others; but curioſity prevailed, and my fenfibility
by degrees wore off. I found that almoſt every ſpeaker
had a different opinion, which fome of them ſupported
by arguments, that to me, who was utterly unacquainted
with diſputation, appeared to hold oppoſite probabilities
in exact equipoiſe; ſo that, inſtead of being confirmed
in any principle, I was diverted of all; the perplexity
of
my mind was increaſed, and I contracted ſuch a ha-
bit of queſtioning whatever offered itſelf to my imagi-
nation, that I almoſt doubted of my own exiſtence.
In proportion as I was lefs affured in my principles,
I was
90
No. XIII.
THE ADVENTURER,
I was leſs circumſpect in my conduct: but ſuch was
ſtill the force of education, that any grofs violence of
fered to that which I had held ſacred, and every act
which I had been uſed to regard as incurring the for-
feiture of the Divine Favour, itung me with remorſe.
I was indeed ſtill reſtrained from flagitious immorality,
by the power of habit : but this power grew weaker
and weaker, and the natural propenſity to ill gradually
took place; as the motion that is communicated to a
ball which is ſtruck up into the air, becomes every mo-
ment leſs and leſs, till at length it recoils by its own
weight.
Fear and hope, the great fprings of human action,
had now loſt their principal objects, as I doubted whe-
ther the enjoyment of the preſent moment was not
all that I could fecure; my power to reſiſt temptation
diminiſhed with my dependence upon the Grace of
God, and regard to the ſanction of his law; and I was
firſt ſeduced by a proſtitute, in my return from a de-
clamation on the Beauty of Virtue, and the ſtrength of
the Moral Senſe.
I began now to give myſelf up entirely to ſenſuality,
and the gratification of appetite terminated my prof-
pects of felicity: that peace of mind, which is the fun-
ſhine of the foul, was exchanged for the gloom of
doubt, and the ſtorm of paſſion; and my confidence in
God, and hope of everlaſting joy, for fudden terrors
and vain wiſhes, the lothings of fatiety, and the an-
guiſh of diſappointment.
I was indeed impatient under this fluctuation of opi-
nion, and therefore I applied to a gentleman who was
a principal ſpeaker at the club, and deemed a profound
philoſopher, to aſſiſt the labours of my own mind in the
inveſtigation
No. XIII.
gi
THE ADVENTURER
1
inveſtigation of truth, and relieve me from diſtraction
by removing my doubts: but this gentleman, inſtead of
adminiſtering relief, lamented the prejudice of educa-
tion, which, he ſaid, hindered me from yielding with-
out reſerve to the force of truth, and might perhaps
always keep my mind anxious, though my judgment
ſhould be convinced. But as the moſt effectual remedy
for this deplorable evil, he recommended to me the
works of Chubb, Morgan, and many others, which I
procured, and read with great eagerneſs; and though
I was not at laſt a found Deiſt, yet I perceived with
ſome pleaſure that my ſtock of polemic knowledge
was greatly increaſed; ſo that, inſtead of being an au-
ditor, I commenced a ſpeaker at the club; and though
to ſtand up and babble to a crowd in an alehouſe, till
filence is commanded by the ſtroke of a hammer, is as
low an ambition as can taint the hnman mind, yet I
was much elevated by my new diftinction, and pleaſed
with the deference that was paid to my judgment. I
ſometimes, indeed, reflected, that I was propagating
opinions by which I had myſelf become vicious, and
wretched; but it immediately occurred, that though
my conduct was changed, it could not be proved that
my virtue was lefs; becauſe many things, which I
avoided as vicious upon my old principles, were inno-
cent upon my new.
I therefore went on in my career,
and was perpetually racking my invention for new to-
pics and illuſtration; and among other expedients, as
well to advance my reputation, as to quiet my conſcience,
and deliver me from the torment of remorſe, I thought
of the following.
Having learned that all error is innocent, becauſe it
i involuntary, I concluded, that nothing more was
neceflary
92
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XIII.
neceflary to quiet the mind than to prove that all vice
was error : I therefore formed the following argument;
“ No man becomes vicious, but from a belief that vice
" will confer happinneſs: he may, indeed, have been
" told the contrary : but implicit faith is not required
“ of reaſonable beings: therefore, as every man ought
to ſeek happineſs, every man may lawfully make the
" experiment: if he is diſappointed, it is plain that he
" did not intend that which has happened ; ſo that
every vice is an error ; and therefore no vice will
“ be puniſhed.”
I communicated this ingenious contrivance to my
friend the philoſopher, who, inſtead of detecting the
difference between ignorance and perverſeneſs, or ſtating
the limitations within which we are bound to ſeek our
own happineſs, applauded the acuteneſs of my pene-
tration, and the force of my reaſoning. I was impa-
tient to diſplay fo novel and important a diſcovery to
the club, and the attention that it drew upon me gra-
tified my ambition to the utmoſt of my expectation,
I had indeed ſome opponents ; but they were ſo little
ſkilled in argumentation, and ſo ignorant of the ſubject,
that it only rendered my conqueſt more ſignal and im-
portant; for the chairman fummed up the arguments
on both ſides, with ſo exact and ſcrupulous an impar-
tiality, that as I appeared not to have been confuted,
thoſe who could not diſcover the weakneſs of my
antagoniſts, thought that to confute me was in
poffible; my fophiftry was taken for demonftration.
and the number of profelytes was incredible. The af-
ſembly conſiſted chiefly of clerks and apprentices,
young perſons who had received a religious though
not a liberal education ; for thoſe who were totally
ignorant,
No. XIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
93
1
ignorant, or wholly abandoned, troubled not themſelves
with ſuch diſputations as were carried on at our club :
and theſe unhappy boys, the impetuofity of whoſe pal-
ſions was reſtrained chiefly by fear, as virtue had not yet
become a habit, were glad to have the ſhackles ſtruck
off, which they were told prieſtcraft had put on.
But however I might ſatisfy others, I was not yet
fatisfied myſelf; my torment returned, and new opi-
ates became neceſſary: they were not indeed eaſily
to be found; but ſuch was my good fortune, that
an illiterate mechanic afforded me the moſt ſeaſonable
relief, “ by diſcu Ting the important queſtion, and de-
“ monftrating that the ſoul was not, nor could be im-
“ mortal.” I was, indeed, diſpoſed to believe without
the fevereſt ſcrutiny, what I now began ſecretly to
wiſh; for ſuch was the ſtate of my mind, that I was
willing to give up the hope of everlaſting happineſs,
to be delivered from the dread of perpetual miſery ;
and as I thought of dying as a remote event, the ap-
prehenſion of loſing my exiſtence with my life, did not
much interrupt the pleaſures of the bagnio and the
tavern.
They were, however, interrupted by another cauſe;
for I contracted a diſtemper, which alarmed and terri-
fied me, in proportion as its progreſs were ſwift, and
its conſequences were dreadful. In this diſtreſs I ap-
plied to a young ſurgeon, who was a ſpeaker at the
club, and gained a genteel fubfiſtence by keeping it in
repair; he treated my complaint as a trifle; and to
prevent any ſerious reflections in this interval of pain
and folitude, he rallied the deplorable length of my
countenance, and exhorted me to behave like a
inan.
My
94
No. XIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
My pride, rather than my fear, made me very foli-
citous to conceal this diſorder from my couſin'; but he
ſoon diſcovered it rather with pleaſure than anger, as it
completed his triumph, and afforded him a new ſubject
of raillery and merriment. By the ſpiritual and cor-
poreal affiftance of my ſurgeon, I was at length reſtored
to my health, with the ſame diffolute morals, and a
reſolution to purſue my pleaſures with more caution :
inſtead, therefore, of hiring a proſtitute, I now endea-
voured to ſeduce the virgin, and corrupt the wife.
No. XIV. Saturday, December 23. 1752.
Admonet, et magnâ teftatur voce per umbras:
Diſcile juftitiam moniti, et non temnere Divos.
VIRG.
Even yet his voice from hell's dread ſhades we hear-
Beware, learn juſtice, and the Gods revere.”
In theſe attempts, my new principles afforded me great
aſliſtance: for I found that thoſe whom I could con-
vert, I could eaſily debauch; and that to convert many,
nothing more was neceſſary than to advance my prin-
ciples, and allege fomething in defence of them, by
which I appeared to be convinced myſelf; for not
being able to diſpute, they thought that the argument
which had convinced me, would, if they could under-
Aand it, convince them: ſo that by yielding an impli-
cit aſſent, they at once paid a compliment to their own
judgments,
No. XIV.
95
THE ADVENTURÈR.
judgments, and ſmoothed the way to the indulgence of
appetite.
While I was thus gratifying every inordinate deſire,
and paſſing from one degree of guilt to another, my
couſin determined to take his daughter, who was now
in her nineteenth year from ſchool; and as he intended
to make her miſtreſs of his family, he quitted his cham-
bers, and took a houſe.
This young lady I had frequently ſeen, and always
admired : ſhe was therefore no ſooner come home, than
I endeavoured to recommend myſelf by a thouſand aſ-
fiduities; and rejoiced in the many opportunities that
were afforded me to entertain her alone; and perceived
that ſhe was not diſpleaſed with my company, nor in-
ſenſible to my complaiſance.
My couſin, though he had ſeen the effects of his do-
cuments of infidelity in the corruption of my morals,
yet could not forbear to ſneer at religion in the pre-
ſence of his daughter; a practice in which I now always
concurred, as it facilitated the execution of a deſign that
I had formed of rendering her ſubfervient to my pleaſures.
I might indeed have married her, and perhaps my cou-
ſin fecretly intended that I ſhould : but I knew wo-
men too well to think that marriage would confine
my wiſhes to a ſingle object; and I was utterly averſe
to a ſtate, in which the pleaſure of variety muſt be fa-
crificed to domeſtic quiet, or domeſtic quiet to the plea-
fure of variety; for I neither imagined that I could
long indulge myſelf in an unlawful familiarity "with
many women, before it would by fome accident be
diſcovered to my wife : nor that ſhe would be ſo very
courteous or philofophical, as to ſuffer this indulgence
without expoſtulation and clamour; and beſides, I had
no
po
No. XIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
no liking to a brood of children, whoſe wants would
foon become importunate, and whoſe claims to my in-
duſtry and frugality would be univerſally acknowleged;
though the offspring of a miſtreſs might be abandoned
to beggary, without breach of the law, or offence to
ſociety.
The young lady, on the contrary, as the perceived
that my addreſſes exceeded common civilities, did not
queſtion but that my view was to obtain her for a wife;
and I could diſcern that ſhe often expected ſuch a de-
claration, and ſeemed diſappointed that I had not yet
propofed an application to her father : but imagining,
I ſuppoſe, that theſe circumſtances were only delayed
till the fitteſt opportunity, ſhe did nor ſcruple to admit
all the freedoms that were conſiſtent with modeſty;
and I drew every day nearer to the accompliſhment of
my deſign, by inſenſible approaches, without alarming
her fear, or confirming her hopes.
I knew that only two things were neceſſary; her
paſſions were to be inflamed, and the motives from
which they were to be ſuppreſſed, removed. I was
therefore perpetually infiuuating, that nothing which
was natural could be ill; I complained of the impofi-
tions and reſtraints of prieſtcraft and ſuperſtition : and,
as if theſe hints were caſual and accidental, I would
immediately afterwards fing a tender ſong, repeat ſome
feducing verſes, or read a novel.
But henceforward, let never inſylted beauty admit
a ſecond time into her preſence th¢ wretch who has
once attempted to ridicule religion, and ſubſtitute
other aids to human frailty, for that “ love of God
which is better than life, and that fear " which is the
beginning of wiſdom :" for whoever makes ſuch an
attempt,
S
No. XIV.
TIE ADVENTURER.
97
of
attempt, intends to betray; the contrary conduct being
without queſtion the intereſt of every one whoſe inten-
tions are good, becauſe even thoſe who profanely deny
religion to be of Divine origin, do yet acknowledge
that it is a political inſtitution, well calculated to
ſtrengthen the band of ſociety, and to keep out the
ravager, by intrenching innocence and arming virtue.
To oppoſe theſe corrupters by argument rather than
contempt, is to parly with a murderer, who may be ex-
cluded by ſhutting a door.
My couſin's daughter uſed frequently to diſpute with
me, and theſe diſputes always favoured the execution
my project : though, leſt I ſhould alarm her too
much, I often affected to appear half in jeft; and
when I ventured to take any liberty, by which the
bounds of modeſty was ſomewhat invaded, I ſuddenly
defifted with an air of eaſy negligence; and as the at-
tempt was not purſued, and nothing farther ſeemed to
be intended than was done, it was regarded but as
waggery, and puniſhed only with a flap or a frown.
Thus ſhe became familiar with infidelity and indecency
by degrees.
I once ſubtily engaged her in a debate, whether the
gratification of natural appetites was in itſelf innocent;
and whether, if ſo, the want of external ceremony
could in any caſe render it criminal. I infifted, that
virtue and vice were not influenced by external cerc-
monies, nor founded upon human laws, which were
arbitrary, temporary, and local : and that, as a young
lady's fhutting herſelf up in a nunnery was ſtill evil,
though enjoined by ſuch laivs; fo the tranſmitting her
beauty to poſterity was ſtill good, though under cer-
tain circumſtances it had by ſuch laws been forbidden.
VOL. I.
E
This
98
No. XIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
This the affected utterly to deny, and I propoſed that
the queſtion ſhould be referred to her papa, without
informing him of our debate, and that it ſhould be de-
termined by his opinion; a propoſal to which ſhe rea-
dily agreed. I immediately adverted to other ſubjects,
as if I had no intereſt in the iſſue of our debate ; but I
could perceive that it ſunk deep into her mind, and
that ſhe continued more thoughtful than uſual.
I did not however fail to introduce a ſuitable topic
of diſcourſe the next time my couſin was preſent, and
liaving ſtated the queſtion in general terms, he gave it
in my favour, without fufpecting that he was judge in
his own cauſe; and the next time I was alone with
his daughter, without mentioning his deciſion, I re-
newed my familiarity; I found her reſiſtance leſs re-
folute, purſued my advantage, and completed her
ruin.
Within a few months ſhe perceived that fhe was
with child; a circumſtance that ſhe communicated to
me with expreſſions of the moſt piercing diſtreſs : but
inſtead of conſenting to marry her, to which ſhe had
often urged me with all the little arts of perſuaſion
that ſhe could practiſe, I made light of the affair, chid
her for being ſo much alarmed at fo trivial an accident,
and propoſed a medicine which I told her would ef-
Fectually prevent the diſcovery of our intercourſe, by
deſtroying the effect of it before it could appear. At
this propoſition the ſainted, and when ſhe recovered, op-
poſed it with terror and regret, with tears, trembling
and intreaty : but I continued inflexible, and at length
either removed or over-ruled her ſcruples, by the ſame
arguments that had firſt ſeduced her to guilt.
The
No. XIV.
97
THE ADVENTURER.
The long vacation was now commenced, and iny
clerkſhip was juſt expired : I therefore propoſed to
my couſin that we ſhould all make a viſit to my father,
hoping that the fatigue of the journey would favour
my purpoſe, by increaſing the cifect of the medicine,
and accounting for an indiſpoſition which it might be
fuppoſed to cauſe.
The plan being thus concerted, and my couſin's con-
currence being obtained, it was immediately put in
execution. I applied to my old friend the club ſur-
geon, to whom I made no ſecret of fuch affairs, and he
ixninediately furniſhed me with mcdicaments, which he
aſſured me would anítver my purpoſe; but either by a
miſtake in the preparation, or in the quantity, they pro-
duced a diſorder, which, foon after the dear injured
unhappy girl arrived at her journey's end, terininated
in her death.
My confuſion and remorſe at this event are not to
be expreſſed, but confufion and remorſe were ſuddeniy
turned into aſtoniſhment and terror; for the was ſcarce
dead before I was taken into cuſtody, upon ſuſpicion of
murder. Her father had depofed, that juſt before ſhe
died, ſhe deſired to ſpeak to him in private ; and that
then, taking his hand, and intreating his forgivencſs, 1.e
told him that ſhe was with child by me, and that I had
poifoued her, under pretence of preſerving her re-
putation.
Whether the made this declaration, or only ccnfeffud
the truth, and her father to revenge the injury had
forged the reſt, cannot now be known; but the coroner
having been fummoned, and the body viewed, and
found to have been pregnant, with many marks of a
violent and uncommon diſorder, a verdict of wilful
murder
I 2
JOO
No. XIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
murder was brought in againſt me, and I was committed
to the county gaol.
As the judges were then upon the circuit, I was
within leſs than a fortnight convicted and condemned
by the zeal of the jury, whoſe paſſions had been fo
greatly inflamed by the enormity of the crime with
which I had been charged, that they were rather will-
ing that I ſhould ſuffer being innocent, than that I ſhould
eſcape being guilty; but it appearing to the judge in
the courſe of the trial, that murder was not intended,
he reprieved me before he left the town.
I might now have redeemed the time, and, awakened
to a ſenſe of my folly and my guilt, might have made
ſome reparation to mankind for the injury which I
had done to fociety; and endeavoured to rekindle fome
fpark of hope in my own breaſt, by repentance and de-
votion. But alas ! in the firſt tranſports of my mind,
upon ſo ſudden and unexpected a calamity, the fear of
death yielded to the fear of infamy, and I ſwallowed
poiſon : the exceſs of my deſperation bindered its im-
mediate effect ; for, as I took too much, great part of
it was thrown up, and only ſuch a quantity remained
behind, as was fufficient to enſure my deſtruction, and
yet leave me time to contemplate the horrors of the
gulph into which I am finking.
In this deplorable ſituation, I have been viſited by
the ſurgeon who was the immediate inſtrument of my
misfortune, and the philoſopher who directed my ftu-
dies: but theſe arc friends who only rouſe me to keener
ſenſibility, and inflict upon me more exquiſite torment.
They reproach me with folly, and upbraid me with
cowardice; they tell me too, that the fear of death has
made me regret the errors of ſuperſtition ; but what
would
No. XIV,
101
THE ADVENTURER.
would I now give for thoſe crroneous hopes, and that
credulous fimplicity, which, though I have been taught
to deſpiſe them, would ſuſtain me in the tremendous
hour that approaches, and avert from my laſt agony
the horrors of deſpair!
I have indeed a viſitor of another kind, the good old
man who firſt taught me to frame a prayer, and firſt
animated me with the hope of heaven; but he can only
lament with me that this hope will not return, and that
I can pray with confidence no more : he cannot by a
ſudden miracle re-eſtabliſh the principles which I have
ſubverted. My mind is all doubt, and terror, and con-
fufion; I know nothing but that I have rendered inef.
fectual the clemency of my Judge, that the approach
of death is ſwift and inevitable, and that either the
ſhades of everlaſting night, or the gleams of unquench-
able fire are at hand. My ſoul in vain ſhrinks backward :
I grow giddy with the thought: the next moment is
diſtraction! Tarcwell.
OPSINOUS.
E 3
NO
10:2
No. XV.
i
THE ADVENTURER,
No. XV. Tueſday, December 26. 1752.
Inventum medicina meum eft
OviD.
Med'cine is mine.
DRIDEN.
As
no man more abhors the maxim, which affirms the
lawfulneſs of doing evil to produce good, than myſelf,
I ſhall ſpare no falſehood, becauſe it has been rendered
fubfervient to political purpoſes, nor concur in the de-
ception of mankind, though for the fervice of the
ſtate.
When the public liberty has been thought in ſo
much danger, as to make it neceſſary to expoſe life in
its defence, we have been told that life is the infe-
rior bleſſing; that death is more eligible than flavery;
and that to hold the contrary opinion, is not only ab-
furd, but infamous.
This, however, whether it is the rant of enthuſiaſm,
or the inſinuation of cunning, contradicts the voice of
reaſon, and the general conſent of mankind. The far
greater part of the liuman fpecies are confeſſed to live
in a ſtate of ſlavilh fubjection; and there is ſcarce any
part of the globe where that which an Engliſhman calls
liberty, is to be found : 2nd yet it does not appear, that
there is any place in which the attachment to life is
diffolved, or that deſpotiſm and tyranny ever provoked
ſuicide to depopulate their dominions. It may be ſaid
that
No. XV.
103
THE ADVENTURER.
that wretches who have never been free, ſuffer pa-
tiently becauſe they are ſtrangers to enjoyment; but it
muſt be remembered, that our heroes of liberty, whe-
ther Bucks or Bloods, or of whatever other denomi-
nation, when by ſome creditor of flaviſh principles they
have been locked up in a priſon, never yet petitioned
to be hanged.
But though to every individual, life is of greater va-
lue than liberty ; yet health and eaſe are of greater vän
lue than life : though jollity may ſometimes be found
in the cell of a priſoner, it never enters the chambers of
the ſick : over pain and ſickneſs, the ſweetneſs of mu-
fic, the ſprightlineſs of humour, and the delicacies of
luxury have no power. Without health, life is miſery ;
and death, as it removes poſitive evil, is at leaſt a nega-
tive good. Among the many advantages, therefore,
which are confeſſed to be peculiar to Great Britain, the
higheſt ſurely is the number of medicines that are dii-
penſed in this metropolis, medicines which infallibly
remove every diſeaſe by which the value of life is an-
nihilated, and death rendered a bleſſing.
It has been obſerved by naturaliſts, that every cli-
mate produces plants peculiarly adapted to remove its
peculiar diſeaſes; and by moraliſts, that good and evil
are univerſally diſtributed with an equal hand : my ſub-
ject affords a remarkable inſtance of the truth of theſe
obſervations : for without this extraordinary interpofi-
tion of medical power, we ſhculd not only be the moſt
Loathſome, debilitated, and diſeaſed of all mortals; but
our country would ſoon become deſolate, or, what is
yet worſe, a province to France.
Of this no doubt will remain, if it be conſidered,
that the medicines, from which we are told almoſt eve-
ry
E 4
104
No. XV.
THE ADVENTURER.
ry noble family in the kingdom has received benefit, are
ſuch as invigorate, cleanſe, and beautify; for if our nobi-
lity are impotent, loathſome, and hideous, in what condi-
tion are thoſe who are expoſed to the viciſſitudes of wėt
and dry, and cold and heat, which in this climate are ſud-
den and frequent ? In what condition are thoſe who
ſweat at the furnace, or delve in the mine, who draw in
peftilential fumes at every breath, and admit an ene-
my to life at every pore? If a being whoſe perfpicacity
could diſcover effects yet Blumbering in their cauſes,
would perceive the future peers of this realm corked
clofe in a vial, or rolled up in a pill; or if, while yet
more diftant, they would appear riſing in the vapour of
an alembic, or agitated in the vortex of a mortar; from
whence muſt we expect thoſe who ſhould hereafter ſupply
the fleet, the manufactory, or the field ?
But the good that would flow in a thouſand ſtreams
to the community from theſe fountains of health, and
vigour, and beauty, is in ſome degree intercepted, by
the envy or folly of perſons who have at a great ex-
pence crowded the city with buildings called hoſpitals;
in wliich thoſe who have been long taught to mangle
the dead, practiſe the fame horrid arts upon the living ;
and where a cancer or a gangrene produce the ampu-
tation of a limb, though a cure for the cancer might
have been purchaſed in Flect-Strcct for a ſhilling, and
a powder that instantly ſtops the progreſs of a gan-
grene, upon Tower-Hill, for fixpence. In hoſpitals
diſeaſes are not cured, but rendered incurable ; and
though of this the public has been often advertiſed by
Mr. Robert Ratſey, who gives advice to the poor in
Billiter-Lane ; yet hoſpitals are ſtill filled, and new do-
nations are made. Mr. Ratſey has indeed himſelf con-
tributed
No. XV.
IO
TIL ADVENTURER.
tributed to this evil; for he promiſes to cure even
thoſe who have been thus rendered incurable : a re-
fource, therefore, is ſtill left, and the vulgar will be en-
couraged to throw themſelves into an hoſpital, in com-
pliance with their prejudices, by retiedling that after all
they can make the experiment which ought to have
been their firſt choice.
I would not be thought to dietate to the Legillature;
but I think that all perſons, eſpecially this. gentleman,
ſhould be prohibited from curing theſe incurable pa-
tients by act of parliament: though I hope that he will,
after this notice, reſtrain the firſt ardour of his benevo-
--tence, by reflecting that a conduct which may be mercy
to one, will be cruelty to many; and that in his future
advertiſements, this dangerous promiſe will not be re-
peated.
This iſland has been long famous for diſeaſes which
are not known in any other part of the world; and my
predeceffor, the Spectator, has taken notice of a perſon,
who in his time, among other ſtrange maladies, under-
took to cure s long fca voyages and campaigns.” IfI
cannot acquaint my readers with any new diſeaſe that
is equally aſtoniſhing, I can record a method of cure,
which, though it was not ſucceſsful, yet deſerves to be
remembered for farther experiments.
The miniſter, the overſeer, and the church-warden of
a pariſh in Kent, after ſetting forth the miſery of a
young man who was afflicted with a rupture, proceed to
addreſs the public in the following terins:
“ His friends applied to ſeveral gentlemen for a
cure, but all proved ineffectual, and wore a truſs,
" till we ſent him to Mr. Woodward at the King's
66 Arms, near Half-moon-ftreet, Piccadilly."
It
2
IS 5
106
No. XV.
THE ADVENTURER.
It appears, therefore, that ſeveral gentlemen, in the
zeal of their compaffion, not only applied for advice,
but actually wore a truſs for this unfortunate youth;
who would, notwithſtanding, ſtill have continued to
languiſh in great miſery, if they had not at laſt ſent him
to Mr, Woodward.
After this inſtance of generous compaſſion and true
public ſpirit, it will be juſt to remark the conduct of
perſons who have filled a much more elevated ſtation,
who have been appointed guardians of the people, and
whoſe obligation to promote their happineſs was there-
fore more complicated and extenſive.
I am told that formerly a patent could not be ob-
tained for diſpenſing theſe infallible remedies at a leſs
expence than fixty pounds; and yet that, without a pa-
tent, counterfeits are impoſed upon the public, by
which diſeaſes are rendered more malignant, and death
precipitated. I am, however, very unwilling to be-
lieve, that the Legiſlature ever refuſed to permit others
tə ſnatch fickneſs and decrepitude from the grave,
without receiving ſo exorbitant a conſideration.
At preſent a patent may be obtained for a much
more reaſonable fum; and it is not worth while to in-
quire, whether this tax upon health was ever exorbi-
tant, as it is now too light to be felt : but our enemies,
if they cannot intercept the licence to do good, ſtill la-
bour to render it ineffe&tual.
They inſinuate, that though a patent is known to
give a fanction to the medicine, and to be regarded by
the vulgar as a certificate of its virtue ; yet that, for the
cuſtomary fee, a patent may be obtained to diſpenſe
aiſon ; for if the noftrum itſelf is a ſecret, its quali-
ties:
No. XV.
107
THE ADVENTURER.
1
ties cannot be otherwiſe known than by its effects; and
concerning its effects no inquiry is made.
Thus it appears that the Jeſuits, who formerly did
us ſo much miſchief, are ſtill buſy in this kingdom:
for who elſe could propagate fo invidious a reproach
for fo deſtructive a purpoſe ?
But the web of fubtlety is ſometimes ſo extremely
attenuated, that it is broken by its own weight; and if
theſe implacable enemies of our church and ſtate had
attempted leſs, they would have effected more : for who
can believe, that thoſe names, which ſhould always be
read with a ſenſe of duty and obligation, were ever
proſtituted in public advertifements, for a paltry fum,
to the purpoſes of wretches who defraud the poor of
their money, and the ſick of their life, by diſpenſing as
remedies, drugs that are either ineffectual or pernicious,
and precluding, till it is too late, more effectual af-
fiftance? To believe this, would be as ridiculous as to
doubt, whether an attempt was made to cure Mr.
Woodward's patient, by applying truſſes to the abdo-
men of his friends, after it has been ſo often and ſo pu-
blicly afferted in an advertiſement, figned by perſons of
unqueſtionable veracity ; perſons who were probably a-
mong
the number of thofe by whom truffes were worn,
and might firſt think of applying to Mr. Woodward,
upon perceiving that a remedy which was fo trouble-
fome to them produced no apparent effect upon the pa-
tient. For my own part, I never hear the cavils of fo-
phiſtry with patience; but when they are uſed to bring
calamity w my country, my indignation knows no
bourds. Let us unite againſt the arts as well as the
power of our enemies, and continue to improve all the
advantages of cur conſtitution and our cliinate; and we
E 6.
cannot
208
No. XV.
THE ADVENTURER.
cannot fail to ſecure health, vigour and longevity, from
which the wreath of glory and the treaſures of opulence
derive all their value.
No. XVI. Saturday, December 30. 1752.
Gratior do pulchro veniens in corpore virtus.
VIRGO
More lovely virtue, in a lovely form..
1
1
HAVE obſerved in a former paper, that the relation:
of events is a ſpecies of writing which affords more ge-
neral entertainment than any other :. and to afford en-
tertainment, appears to have been often the principal, if.
not the only deſign of thoſe by whom events have been.
related.
It muſt, indeed, be confeffed, that when truths are to
be recorded, little is left to the choice of the writer;
a few pages of the book of Nature or Providence are
before him; and if he tranſcribes with fidelity, he is
not to be blamed, if in this fragment good and evil do
not appear to be always diſtributed as reward and pu-
niſhment.
But it is juſtly expected of the writer of fiction, who
has unbounded liberty to ſelect, to vary and to com-
plicate, that his plan ſhould be complete, that he ſhould
principally conſider the moral tendency of his work,
and that when he rclates events he ſhould teach virtue.
T12
No. XVI.
ICO
THE ADVENTURER.
The relation of events becomes a moral lecture,
when vicious actions produce miſery, and vicious cha-
racters incur contempt; when the combat of virtue is
rewarded with honour, and her ſufferings terminate in
felicity :. but though this method of inſtruction has
been often recommended, yet I think ſome of its pecu-
liar advantages have been ſtill overlooked, and for
that reaſon not always ſecured.
Facts are eaſily comprehended by every underſtand-
ing: and their dependence and influence upon each other
are diſcovered by thoſe, who would ſoon be bewil-
dered in a ſeries of logical deductions; they fix 'that
volatility which would break away from ratiocination;
and the precept becomes more forcible and ſtriking as it
is connected with example. Precept gains only the cold
approbation of reaſon, and compels an affent which
judgment frequently yields with reluctance, even when
delay is impoſible ; but by example, the palions are
rouzed; we approve, we emulate, and we honour or
love ; we deteſt, we deſpiſe, and we condemn, as fit
objects are fucceflively held up to the mind : the affec-
tions are, as it were, drawn out into the field; they
learn their exerciſe in a mock fight, and are trained
for the ſervice of virtue.
Facts, as they are moſt perfectly and eaſily compre-
hended, and as they are impreiled upon the mind by
the paſions, are tenacioully remembered, though the
terms in which they are delivered are preſently for-
gotten; and for this reaſon, the initruction that relults
from facts, is more eaſily propagated :. many can repeat
a ſtory, who would not have underſtood a declamation
and though the expreſſion will be varied as often as it
25
?
110
No. XVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
..
is told, yet the moral which it was intended to teach
will remain the ſame.
But theſe advantages have not been always ſecured
by thoſe who have profeffed “ to make a ſtory the ve-
“ hicle of inſtruction," and " to ſurprize levity into
knowledge by a fhew of entertainment;" for inſtead
of including inſtruction in the events themſelves, they
have made uſe of events only to introduce declamation
and argument. If the events excite curioſity, all the
fine reflections which are ſaid to be interſperſed, are
paſſed over; if the events do not excite curioſity, the
whole is rejected together, not only with diſguſt and
diſappointment, bat indignation, as having allured by a
falſe promiſe, and engaged in a vain purſuit. Theſe
pieces, if they are read as a tak by thoſe for whoſe
inſtruction they are intended, can produce none of the
effects for which they were written; becauſe the in-
ſtruction will not be neceflarly remembered with the
facts; and becauſe the ſtory is ſo far from recommend-
ing the moral, that the moral is deteſted as interrupt-
ing the ſtory. Nor are thoſe who voluntarily read for
inſtruction, leſs diſappointed than thofe who ſeek only
entertainment; for he that is eager in the purſuit of
knowledge, is diſguſted when he is ſtopped by the in-
tervention of a trivial incident or a forced compliment,
when a new perſonage is introduced, or a lover takes
occafion to admire the fagacity of a miſtreſs.
But many writers who have avoided this error, and
interwoven precept with event, though they intended
a moral lecture, have yet defeated their own purpoſe,
by taking from virtue every accidental excellence, and
decorating vice with the fpoils.
I can
No. XVI.
III
THE ADVENTURER.
I can think of nothing that could be alleged in de
fence of this perverſe diſtribution of graces and de-
fects, but a deſign to ſhew that virtue alone is ſuffi-
cient to confer honour upon the loweſt character, and
that without it nothing can preſerve the higheſt from
contempt; and that thoſe excellencies which we can
acquire by our own efforts, are of more moment than
thoſe which are the gift of nature : but in this deſign,
no writer, of whatever abilities, can fucceed.
It has been often remarked, though not without
wonder, that almoſt every man is more jealous of his
natural than his morał qualities, and reſents with
more bitterneſs a ſatire upon his abilities than his prac-
tice: the fact is unqueſtionably true ; and perhaps it
will no longer appear ftrange, if it be conſidered, that
natural defects are of neceſſity, and moral of choice;
the imputation of folly, if it is true, muſt be ſuffered
without hope, but that of immorality may at any time
be obviated by removing the cauſe.
But whatever be the reaſon, it appears by the com-
mon conſent of mankind, that the want of virtue does
not incur equal contempt with the want of parts; and
that many vices are thought to be rather honourable
than infamous, merely becauſe they imply fome natural
excellence, ſome fuperiority which cannot be acquired
by thoſe who want it, but to which tlioſe who have it
believe they can add all that others poffeſs, whenever
they ſhall think fit to make the attempt.
Florio, after having learned the Latin and Greek
languages at Weſtminſter, and ſpent three years at the
univerſity, made the tour of Europe, and at his return
obtained a place at court. Florio's imagination is
fprightly, and his judgment ſtrong: he is well ac-
quz inted
112
No. XVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
quainted with every branch of polite literature, and
travel has poliſhed the found fcholar into the fine gen-
tleman: his perſon is graceful, and his manner polite ;
be is remarkable for the elegance of his dreſs: and he
is thought to dance a minuet, and underſtand the ſmall
fword better than any other man in the kingdom.
Among the ladies, Florio has made many conqueſts;
and has challenged and killed in a duel an officer, who
upbraided him with the breach of a promiſe of mar-
riage, confirmed by an oath, to a young beauty whom
he kept in great fplendour as a miſtreſs : his converſa-
tion is admired by all who can reliſh ſterling wit and
true humour; every private company brightens when
he enters, and every public aſſembly becomes more
fplendid by his preſence: Florio is alſo liberal to pro-
fuſion ; and is not, therefore, inquiſitive about the me-
rit of thoſe upon whom he laviſhes his bounty.
Benevolus has alſo had a liberal education: he
learned the languages at Merchant Taylors, and went
from thence to the univerſity, where his application
was greater than Florio's, but the knowledge that he ac-
quired was leſs : as his apprehenſion is flow, and his in-
duſtry indefatigable, he remembers more than he un-
derſtands; he has no taſte either for poetry or muſic ;
mirth never ſmiled at a ſally of his imagination, nor
did doubt ever appeal to his judgment: his perſon,
though it is not deformed, is inelegant; his dreſs is
not ſlovenly, but aukwardly neat; and his manner is
rather formal than rude; he is the jeſt of an aſſembly,
and the averſion of ladies; but he is remarkable for
the moſt uniform virtue and unaffected piety: he is a
faithful friend, and a kind maſter; and ſo compaſſionate,
that he will not ſuffer even the ſnails that eat his fruit
to
No. XVI
313
THE ADVENTURER.
1
to be deſtroyed; he lays out annually near half bis in-
come in gratuities, not to ſupport the idle, but to en-
courage the induſtrious : yet there is rather the appear-
ance of parſimony than profuſion in his temper; and
he is ſo timorous, that he will turn pale at the report
of a mulket.
Which of theſe two characters wouldſt thou chooſe
for thy own? whom doſt thou moſt honour, and to
whom haft thou paid the tribute of involuntary praife?
Thy heart has already anfwered with ſpontaneous fide-
lity in favour of Florio. Florio thou haſt not confi-
dered as a ſcoundrel, who by perjury and murder has
deſerved the pillory and the gibbet ; as a wretch who
has ſtooped to the loweſt fraud for the vileſt purpoſe;
who is continually enfnaring the innocent and the weak;
who conceals the ruin that he brings by a lie, and the
lie by an oath; and who having once already juſtiiied
a ſworn falſehood at the expence of life, is ready again
to lie and to kill, with the ſame aggravation and in the
ſame cauſe.
Neither didſt thou view Benevolus, as having me-
rited the divine eulogium beſtowed upon
him
was fairhful over a few things ;” as employing life
in the diffuſion of happineſs, with tlie joy of angels, and
in imitation of God.
Surely, if it is true, that
“ Vice to be hated needs but to be ſeen;
9 Pope.
66 who
6 W
the ſhould not be liidden with the ornaments, and diſ-
guiſed in the apparel, which in the general eſtimation
belong to virtue. On the contrary, it ſhould be the
principal labour of moral writers, eſpecially of thoſe
who would inſtruct by fiction, the power of which is
not
114
No. XVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
not leſs to do evil than good, to remove the bias which
inclines the mind rather to prefer natural than moral
endowments; and to repreſent vice with ſuch circumi
ſtances of contempt and infamy, that the ideas may
conſtantly recur together. And it ſhould be always
remembered, that the fear of immediate contempt is
frequently ſtronger than any other motive: how many
may have, even in their own opinion, incurred the
guilt of blaſphemy, rather than the ſneer of an infidel,
or the ridicule of a club? and how many have ruſhed,
not only to the brink of the grave, but of hell, to avoid
the ſcorn, with which the fooliſh and the profligate re.
gard thoſe who have refuſed a challenge ?
Let it, therefore, be the united efforts of genius
and learning, to deter from guilt by the dread of
Ahame; and let the time paſt ſuffice to have ſaved from
contempt, thoſe vices which contempt only can ſup-
preſs.
No.XVII,
$
No. XVII.
18
THE ADVENTURER.
--
No. XVII. Tueſday, January 2. 1753.
Scopulis furdior Icars
oces audit
Hor,
He hears no more
Than rocks, when winds and waters roar.
CREECH.
ERHAPS few undertakings require attention to a greater
variety of circumftances, or include more complicated
labour, than that of a writer who addreſſes the public
in a periodical paper, and invites perſons of every fta-
tion, capacity, diſpoſition, and employment, to ſpend,
in reading his lucubrations, ſome of thoſe golden mo-
ments which they ſet apart from toil and ſolicitude.
He' who writes to asſiſt the ſtudent, of whatever
claſs, has a much eaſier talk and greater probability of
ſucceſs; for the attention of induſtry is ſurely more
eaſily fixed than that of idleneſs: and he who teaches
any ſcience or art, by which wealth or honour may be
acquired, is more likely to be heard, than he who only
folicits a change of amuſement, and propoſes an experi-
ment which cannot be made without danger of diſap-
pointment.
The author who hopes to pleaſe the public, or, to
uſe a more faſhionable phraſe, the town, without grati-
fying
116
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XVII,
fying its vices, ſhould not only be able to exhibit fa-
miliar objects in a new light, to diſplay truths that are
not generally known, and break up new veins in the
mines of literature; he muſt have ſkill to ſelect ſuch ob-
jects as the town is willing to regard, ſuch truths as ex-
cite its curioſity, and ſuch knowledge as it is ſolicitous
to acquire.
But the ſpeculative and recluſe are apt to forget that
the bufineſs and entertainment of others, are not the
ſame with their own; and are often ſurpriſed and diſ-
appointed to perceive, that what they communicate
with eagerneſs and expectation of applauſe; is heard
with too much indifference to be underſtood, and wea-
ries thoſe whom it was expected to delight and inſtruct.
Mr. George Friendly, while he was a ſtudent at Ox-
ford, became pofſeffed of a large eſtate by the death of
his elder brother: inſtead, therefore, of going up to
London for preferment, he retired to the family-ſeat in
the country; and as he had acquired the habit of ſtudy
and a ſtrong reliſh for literature, he continued to live
nearly in the ſame manner as at college: he kept little
company, had no pleaſure in the ſports of the field, and,
being diſappointed in his firſt addreſſes, would never
marry
His ſiſter, the wife of a gentleman who farmed his
own eſtate, had one fon whoſe name was John. Mr.
Friendly directed that John ſhould be put to a reputa-
ble ſchool in the country, and promiſed to take care of
his fortune. When the lad was about nincteen, his
uncle declared his intention to fend him to the univer-
ſity; but firſt deſired to ſee him, that he might know
what proficiency he had made in the languages. John,
therefore, fet out on a viſit to his urcle, and was re-
ceived
1
No. XVII.
117
THE ADVENTURER.
ceived with great affection: he was found to have ac-
quired a reaſonable knowledge of Latin and Greek; and
Mr. Friendly formed a very favourable opinion of his
abilities, and determined to reward his diligence, and
encourage him to perſeverance.
One evening, therefore, he took him up into his ſtu-
dy, and atter directing him to ſit down,“ Couſin John,"
ſaid he, " I have ſome ſentiments to communicate to
you, with which I know you will be pleaſed; for
“ truth, like virtue, is never perceived but with de-
“ light.” John, whoſe heart did not give a full affent
to the truth of this propofition, found himſelf in cir-
cumilances which, by the mere force of habit, cauſed
hiin to draw in a long breath through his noſe, and at
the ſame time with a grin of exquiſite fenfibility to
fcratch liis head. " But my obſervations, couſin," ſaid
his uncle,“ have a neceffary connection with a purpoſe
66 that I have formed, and with which you ſhall alſo be
acquainted. Draw your chair a little nearer. The
“ paffions, couſin John, as they are naturally productive
“ of all plcaſure, flould by reaſonable beings, be alſo
“ rendered ſubſervient to a higher purpoſe. The love
" of variety which is found in every breaſt, as pro-
“ duces much pleaſure, may alſo produce much know-
“ ledge. One of the principal advantages that are
66 derived from wealth, is a power to gratify and im-
prove this paſſion. The rich are not confined by
“ labour to a particular ſpoi, where the ſame ideas per-
petually recur; they can fill the mind, either by tra-
'“ vel or by fludy, with innuinerable images, of which
“ others have no conception. But it muſt be con-
“ fidered, that the pleaſure of travelling does not ariſe
“ from the fight of a dirty town, or from lodging at an
as it
66
*
inn;
i
118
No. XVII.
THE ADVENTURER.
66
« inn; nor from any hedge or cottage that is paſſed on
to the road; nor from the confuſed objects that are half
to diſcovered in the diſtant proſpect; nor from the fe-
“ ries of well-built houſes in a city, or the buſy mul-
66 titudes that ſwarm in the ſtreets: but from the rapid
“ ſucceſſion of theſe objects to each other, and the
** number of ideas that are thrown in upon the mind.”
Mr. Friendly here pauſed for John's reply; and John
ſuddenly recollecting himſelf, faid, “ Very true.”
But how," ſaid Mr. Friendly, can this love of va-
“ riety be directed to the acquiſition of knowledge ?"
Here John wriggled in his feat, and again ſcratched his
head: he was indeed ſomething embarraſſed by the
queſtion: but the old gentleman quickly put him out
of his pain by anſwering it himſelf. “ Why, by a ju-
it dicious choice of the variety that is to produce our
os entertainment. If the various doublings of a hare
« only, or the changes of a game at whiſt, have afford-
« ed the variety of the day; whatever has been the
pleaſure, improvement has been wanting. But if the
be different cuſtoms, the policy, the trade of nations, the
“ variety of ſoils, the manner of culture, the diſpoſition
" of individuals, or the riſe or fall of a ſtate, have been
" impreſſed upon the mind; beſides the pleaſure of the
6 review, a power of creating new images is acquired.
“ Fancy can combine the ideas which memory has
“ treaſured; and when they have been reviewed and
regulated by judgment, ſome ſcheme vill reſult, by
“ which commerce may be extended, agriculture im-
“ proved, immortality reftrained, and the proſperity of
66 the ſtate fecured: of this, couſin John, you was not
“ wholly ignorant before." John acquieſced with a
bow ; for though he had been a little bewildered, yet
he
No. XVII.
119
THE ADVENTURER.
can
he underſtood by the tone of voice with which his un-
cle concluded the last ſentence, that ſuch acquieſcence
was expected. “ Upon this occafion," continued Mr.
Friendly, " I muſt remark, though it is ſomething fo-
reign to my purpoſe, that variety has by fome philo-
66. ſophers been conſidered, as affording not only the
pleaſure and improvement, but even the meaſure of
66 life; for of time in the abſtract we have no idea, and
conceive it only by the ſucceſſion of ideas to
os each other; thus, if we ſleep without dreams, the mo-
ment in which we awake, appears immediately to
56 ſucceed that in which we began to flumber.”
A thicker gloom now fell upon John, and his
countenance lengthened in proportion to his uncle's
lecture, the end of which he perceived was now become
more remote; for theſe remarks with reſpect to John,
were not impreſſed with the ſignature of truth, nor did
they reflect any idea of his own: they were not
" Something whoſe truth convinc'd at fight we find,
66 That gives us back the image of our mind :''
Pope's Eflay on Crit.
With reſpect to John, therefore, they had no character-
iſtic of wit ; and if they contained knowledge, it was
knowledge which John had no wiſh to acquire : the old
gentleman, however, proceeded thus with great deli-
beration :
“ But through curioſity ſhould be principally direc-
“ ted to uſeful purpoſes, yet it ſhould not always be re-
“ prefled or diverted, when the uſe is not immediate or
apparent: for he who firſt perceived the magnetic at-
traction, and applied it to various experiments, pro-
6
“ bably
r20
No. XVII.
THE ADVENTURER.
&6
وو
66
166
$
bably intended nothing more than amuſement; and
66 when the polarity or the needle was diſcovered, it
was not in the purſuit of any project to facilitate na-
vigation. I am, therefore, now about to gratify
your curioſity, couſin, with a view of London, and
66 all the variety that it contains." Here John's coun-
tenance brightened, he rouzed himſelf on his feat, and
looked eager with attention.
As you have," continued his uncle," applied with
great diligence to your grammar learning ; I doubt
not but
you
have alſo read many of our beſt Engliſh
" authors, eſpecially our immortal Shakeſpeare; and
165 I am willing that, before you enter upon a courſe of
* academic ſtudy, you ſhould ſee the theatre." John
was going to expreſs his joy, when his uncle increaſed
it, by putting into his hand a Bank note of fifty pounds.
166 This,” ſaid he 6 under the direction of a gentleman,
" to whom I ſhall recommend you, will furniſh you with
proper apparel, bear your expences for a couple of
66 months, and gratify you with all the entertainments
" of the town."
John could now bear fome part in the converſation :
he was much obliged to his uncle, and hoped he ſhould
live to make him amends, “ for,” ſays he,“ one of our
uſhers, who was but juſt returned from London be-
66 fore I left ſchool, has made me long to ſee it: he
ſays there is a man there who dances upon a wire no
bigger than a packthread; and that there is a col.
" lection of all the ſtrange creatures in the world.”
John, who had uttered this with a broad grin, and
expreſſed his delight from head to foot, was ſomewhat
diſconcerted, when his uncle told him ccolly, that
though he would not have him leaye London without
6
ſeeing
66
No. XVII.
I21
THE ADVENTURER.
66 I
{eeing every thing in it that might juſtly raiſe curioſity;
yet he hoped his notice was not principally attracted by
objects which could convey no inſtruction, inſpire no
noble ſentiment, nor move one tender paſſion.
* mentioned," ſays he, “ Shakeſpeare, that mighty ge-
nius, whoſe ſentiments can never be exhauſted, and
“ in whom new beauties are diſcovered at every view.
" That you may derive yet greater delight and advan-
“ tage from the repreſentation of his pieces, I will read
you ſome hiſtorical and critical notes that I have been
“ making during twenty years, after having read the
66 firſt edition of his works, and every commentator
" that has either illuſtrated or obſcured his meaning."
The old gentleman then taking out and wiping his
fpectacles, opened his bureau and produced the manu-
fcripts. “ I am now," ſaid he, s about to confer a fa-
vour upon you, which I do not yet intend for any
“ other; for as I ſhall continually enlarge this work,
" it will not be printed till I am dead.” He then be-
gan to read, and John ſat very filent, regaling himſelf
with the anticipation of his own finery, tlie dexterity of
the wire-dancer, and the variety of the favages that he
was to viſit in London. The old gentleman, who ima-
gined that he was held motionleſs with attention, won-
der, and delight, proceeded long in his lecture without
once adverting to John for his explicit eulogium : but
at the end of a favourite paſſage, which cloſed with a
diſtich of his own poetry, he ventured to ſteal his eyes
from the paper, and glancing them upon John, perceived
that he was faſt aſleep with his mouth open and the
Bank note in his hand.
Friendly, after having gazed upon him a few mo.
ments with the utmoſt altonithment and indignation,
Vol. I,
F
ſnatcehd
122
No. XVIIL
THE ADVENTURER.
fnatched away the note : and having rouzed him with a
denunciation of refentment, that touched thoſe paſſions
which Shakeſpeare could not touch, he thruſt him out
of the room and ſhut the door upon him : he then
locked up his manuſcript; and, after having walked ma-
-ny times backward and forward with great hafte, he
looked at his watch, and perceiving it to be near one in
the morning, retired to bed with as little propenſity to
fleep as he had now left to his nephew.
No. XVIII. Saturday, January 6, 1753.
Duplex libelli dos eft ; quod riſum movet,
Et quod prudenti vitam confilio monet.
PHÆDRUS.
A two fold gift in this my volume lies;
It makes you merry, and it makes you
wife.
Among the fictions which have been intended for mo-
ral purpoſes, I think thoſe which are diſtinguiſhed by
the name of fables deſerve a particular conſideration.
A ſtory or tale, in which many different characters
are conducted through a great variety of events, may
include ſuch a number and diverſity of precepts, as, ta-
ken together, form almoſt a complete rule of life: as
theſe events mutually depend upon each other, they
will be retained in a ſeries; and, therefore, the remem-
brance
1
No. XVIII.
123
THE ADVENTURER.
brance of one precept will almoſt neceſſarily produce
the remembrance of another, and the whole moral, as
it is called, however complicated, will be recollected
without labour and without confuſion.
In this particular, therefore, the ſtory ſeems to have
the advantage of the fable, which is confined to ſome
fingle incident: for though a number of diſtinct fables
may include all the topics of moral inſtruction, caution,
and advice, which are contained in a ſtory, yet each muſt
be remembered by a diſtinct effort of the mind; and they
will not recur in a ſeries, becauſe they have no connec-
tion with each other.
The memory of them may, however, be more fre-
quently revived by thoſe incidents in life to 'which they
correſpond; and they will, therefore, more readily pre-
ſent themſelves, when the leſſons which they teach
ſhould be practiſed.
Many, perhaps the greater number of thoſe fables
which have been tranſinitted to us, as ſome of the moſt
valuable remains of the fimplicity and wiſdom of anti-
quity, were ſpoken upon a particular occafion; and then
the occaſion itſelf was an index to the intent of the
ſpeaker, and fixed the moral of the fable : ſo when the
Samians were about to put to death a man who had a-
bufed a public truſt, and plundered the commonwealth,
the counſel of Æſop could not be overlooked or mi-
Itaken, when he told them, that “ A Fox would not
s fuffer a ſwarm of fies, which had almoſt fatiated
" themſelves by fucking his blood, to be driven away;
" becauſe a new ſwarm might then come, and their
hunger drain him of all the blood that remained."
Thoſe which are intended for general uſe, and to ge-
neral uſe it is perhaps eaſy to accommodate the reſt, are
of
F 2
1204
No. XVIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
of two kinds : one is addreſſed to the underſtanding, and
the other to the paſſions.
Of the preceptive kind is that of the “ Old Man, who,
to teach his fons the advantage of unanimity, firſt
66 directed them to break a number of rods that were
“ bound up together : and when they found it impof-
“ fible, bade them divide the bundle, and break the
:ods ſeparately, which they eaſily effected.” In this
fable no paſſion is excited : the addreſs is to the under-
ſtanding, and the underſtanding is immediately con-
viuced.
That of the old hound belongs to the other claſs.
When the toothleſs veteran had ſeized the ſtag, and was
not able to hold him, he deprecates the reſentment of
his maſter, who had raiſed his arm for the blow, by
crying out, “ Ah! do not puniſh the impotence of
“ age! ſtrike me not, becauſe my will to pleaſe thee
á has ſurvived my power! If thou art offended with
o what I am, remember what I have been, and forgive
s me.” Pity is here forcibly excited ; and injurious
reſentment may be repreffed, when an inſtance not e-
qually ſtrong recalls this to the mind.
Fables of the preceptive kind ſhould always include
the precept in the event, and they even ſhould be re-
lated with ſuch circumſtances as render the precept
ſufficiently evident. As the incident ſhould be ſimple,
thej inference ſhould be in the higheſt degree natural
and obvious.
Thoſe that produce their effcct upon the paſſions,
ſhould excite them ſtrongly, and always connect them
with their proper objects.
I do not remember to have ſeen any collection, in
which theſe rules have been fufficiently obſerved ; in
far
No. XVIII.
125
THE ADVENTURER.
far the greater number there is a deficiency of circum-
ſtance, though there is a redundancy of language; there
is, therefore, ſomething to be added, and ſomething to
be taken away. Beſides that, the peculiar advantages
of his method of inſtruction are given up, by referring
the precept to a long diſcourſe, of which the fable is no
more than the text, and with which it has ſo little con.
nection, that the incident may be perfectly remember-
ed, and the laboured inference totally forgotten. A A.
boy, who is but fix years old, will remember a ſablé
after having once heard it, and relate it in words of his
own; but it would be the toil of a day to get the terms
in which he heard it by heart; and, indeed, he who
attempts to ſupply any deficiency in a fable, by tacking
a differtation to the end of it, appears to me to act juſt
as wiſely, as if, inſtead of clothing a man whom he.
found naked, he ſhould place a load upon his ſhoulders.
When the moral effect of fable had been thus
brought to depend, not upon things, but upon words;
the arrangement of theſe words into verſe, was thought
to be a happy expedient to aſſiſt the memory; for in
verſe words muſt be reinembered in a regular ſeries, or
the meaſure and cadence will not be preſerved: the
meaſure and cadence, therefore, diſcover any confuſion
or defect, not to the underſtanding, but to the ear : and
fhew how the confuſion may be regulated, and the de.
fect ſupplied.
The addition of rhime was another ad.
vantage of the fame kind; and this advantage was
greater, as the rhime was more frequently repeated.
But if the fable is perfect in its kind, this expedient is
unneceſſary : and much leſs labour is required to include
an evident precept in an incident, than to meaſure the
fyllables in which it is related, and place two words of
F 3
22
126
No. XVIII,
THE ADVENTURER..
a ſimilar found at the end of every couplet. Beſides,
in all verſe, however familiar and eaſy, the words are
neceſſarily thrown out of the: order in which they are
commonly uſed ; and, therefore, though they will be
more eaſily recallected, the ſenſe which they contain
will. not be equally perſpicuous..
I would not, however, be thought to deny, that verſe
is at leaſt an ornament to this ſpecies of writing; nor to:
extend my.cenſure to thoſe ſhort ſtories, which, though:
they are called fables, are written upon a more exten-
ſive plan, and are intended for more improved under-
ſtandingsa
But as fables have been told by ſome in verſe, that
they might be more eaſily remembered; they have been
related by others in a barbarous jargon of hackneyed
phraſes, that they might be more eaſily underſtood.
It has been obſerved of children, that they are:
longer before they can pronounce perfect ſounds, be-
caufe perfect ſounds are not pronounced to them; and
that they repeat the gibberiſh of the nurſe, becauſe no-
thing better has been propoſed to them for imitation ::
and how Mould the ſchoolboy write Engliſh in grame.
matical purity, when all that he reads, except a foreign
language and a literal tranſlation, is written with all the
licence of extempore expreſſion, without propriety of
idiom, or regularity of combination, and abounds with
abfurdities that haſte only can excuſe in a ſpeaker ?
The fables of Æfop, for ſo they are all called, are
often firſt exhibited to youth, as examples of the man-
ner in which their native language is written; they
fhould, therefore, be pure in the higheſt degree, though
not pompous i. and it is ſurely an affront to the under-
ſtauding:
No. XVIII
F27
THE ADVENTURER.
ftanding to ſuppoſe, that any language would become
more intelligible by being rendered leſs perfecta
But the fables that are addreſſed to the paſſions, be-
fides the imperfections which they ſhare in common
with thoſe that are addreſſed to the underſtanding, have.
others peculiar to themſelves; ſometimes the paſſion is
not moved with ſufficient force, and ſometimes it is not
connected with a fit object.
When the Fox decoys the poor goat into a well, in
order to leap out from his horns, and leaves him to pe-
riſh with a witty remark, that“ if his wiſdom had been
“ proportioned to his beard, he would not have been
“ ſo eaſily overreached," the goat is not ſo much the
object of pity as contempt; but of contempt, guileleſs
fimplicity, caught in the fnares of canning, cannot fure-
ly be deemed a proper object. In the fox there ap-
pcars a ſuperiority which not only preſerves him from
ſcorn, but even from indignation ; and indeed the ge-
neral character of Reynard is by no means fit for imi.
tation, though he is frequently the hero of the fable,
and his conduct affcrds the precept for which it was
written.
But though I have made a general diviſion of fable
into two kinds, there is yet a third, which, as it is ad-
dreſſed both to the underſtanding and the paſions, is:
confequently more forcible and perfect.
Of this number is that of the fick Kite, who re-
queſted of his mother to petition the Gods for his re-
covery, but was anſwered, 66 Alas! to ivhich of the
Gods can I ſacriñce ? for which of their altars haft .
" thou not robbed ?" The precept that is here incul.
cated, is early piety; and the paſſion that is excited, is.
terror ;; the object of which is the defpair of him who
perceives
F 4
1:28
No. XVIII
THE ADVENTURER.
me, there
66
perceives himſelf to be dying, and has reaſon to fear
that his very prayer is an abomination.
There are others, which, though they are addreffed
to the underſtanding, do yet excite a paſſion which con-
demns the precept.
When the melodious complaint of the Nightingale
had directed a hungry hawk to the thorn on which ſhe
ſung, and he had ſeized her with his talons, ſhe appeal-
ed from his hunger to his mercy: “ I am,” ſaid ſhe,
66 little elſe than yoice ; and if you devour me,
" will be no proportion between my loſs and your
gain ; your hunger will be rather irritated than ap-
peaſed by ſo ſmall a morſel, but all my powers of en-
joyment will ceaſe for ever: attack, therefore, fome
larger bird."--Here the hawk interrupted her:
" He was not diſpoſed," he ſaid, to controvert what
6 ſhe had advanced ; but he was too wiſe to ſuffer him-
- ſelf to be perſuaded by any argument, to quit a cer-
“ tain for a contingent good."
Who that reads this fable does not pity the Night-
ingale, and in his heart condemn the Hawk, whoſe
cruel prudence affords the leffon?
Inſtruction, in the ſtrong language of eaſtern meta-
phors, is called, " a light to our paths.” The fables
of Pagan mythologiſts may, therefore, be conſidered as
a cluſter of ſtars of the firſt magnitude, which, though
they ſhine with a diſtinct influence, may be taken as one
conſtellation : but, like ſtars, they only break the ob-
fcurity of night; they do not diffuſe round us the fplen-
dors of day: it is by the Sun of Righteouſneſs alone, that
we diſcover completely our duty and our intereſt, and
behold that pattern of Divine Perfection which the
Chriſtian
77
No. XVIII.
·129
THE ADVENTURER.
-
66
Chriſtian aſpires to imitate, by" forgiving injuries, and
"returning good for evil.”
By many of the fables which are ſtill retained in our
collections, revenge is encouraged as a principle, and
inculcated as a practice. “ The Hare triumphs in the
a deſtruction of the Sparrow who had inſulted him,
" and the Thunny, in his laſt agonies, rejoices at the
6 death of the Dolphin, whoſe purſuit had driven him
upon a rock.” Theſe, if they will not admit of ano-
ther turn, ſhould without queſtion be omitted; for the
miſchievous effect of the fable will be remembered as
an example that juſtifies the violence of ſudden reſent-
ment, and cannot be prevented by a laboured comment,
which is never read but as a taſk, and therefore imme.
diately forgotten.
I think many others may be greatly improved; the
practice of virtue may be urged from higher motives,
the ſentiments may be elevated, and the precepts in ge-
neral rendered more ſtriking and comprehenſive.
I ſhall conclude this paper with the fable of the Dog
and Shadow ; which, as it is commonly told, cenſures no
quality but greedineſs, and only illuſtrates the truc pro-
verb, “ All covet, all loſe.”
“ A dog, who was croſſing a rivulet with a piece of
“ fleſh in his mouth, perceived his ſhadow in the wa-
ter, which he miſtook for another dog with another
6 piece of fleſh. To this he knew he had no right;
" and yet he could not forbear catching at it: but in-
í ſtead of getting a new prize, he dropped that which
66 he poflefled into the water. He ſaw the ſinooth ſur-
* face break into many waves, and the dog whom he
" had attempted to injure diſappear: he perceived at
" once, his loſs, his folly, and his fault; and in the ar-
5
sgoilla
66
130
THE ADVENTURER
No. XIX.
1
“ guiſh of regret, cried out, “ how righteous and how
“ wiſe are the Gods! ſince whatever feduces to evil,
though but a ladow, becomes the inſtrument of pu-
a niſhment.?
73
No. XIX. Tueſday, January 9. 1753. .
Quodcunque oftendis mibi fis, incredulus odi..
HOR,
The monſtrous tale, incredulous I liate.
The repeated encomiums on the performances of the
animal comedians, exhibited at Mrs. Midnight's ora-
tory, induced me the other evening to be preſent at her
entertainment. I was aſtoniſhed at the ſagacity of the
monkies; and was no leſs amazed at the activity of the
other quadrupeds ;-) ſhould have rather ſaid, from a
view of their extraordinary elevations, bipeds.
It is a peculiar happineſs to me, as an Adventurer,
that. I ſally forth in an age, which emulates thoſe he-
roic times of old, when nothing was pleaſing but what
was unnatural. Thouſands have gaped at a wire-dan-
cer daring to do what no one elſe would attempt; and
thouſands ftill gape at greater extravagancies in panto-
inime entertainments. Every ſtreet teems with incre .
dibilities: and if the great mob. have their little the-
atre in the Hay-market, the ſmall vulgar can boaſt their
cheaper diverſions in two enormous bears, that jauntily
trip it to the light tune of a Caledonian jig.
The
No. XIX
131
THE ADVENTURERO
The amazing docility of theſe heavy animals made
me firſt imagine, that they had been placed under the
tuition of certain artiſts, who by their advertiſements
profeſs to inſtruct“ grown gentlemen in the modern
way of footing;" but I have been ſince informed,
that the method of teaching them this modern way of
footing was, by placing red-hot iron plates alternately
under each hind leg, and in quicker or flower fuccef-
fion as the variations of the tune required.
That the intellectual faculties of brutes may be.
exerted beyond the narrow limits which we have hi-
therto proudly aſſigned to their capacities, I ſaw a ſuf-
ficient proof in Mrs. Midnight's dogs and monkies.
Man differs leſs from beaſts in general, than theſe ſeem
to approach to man in rationality. But while I ap-
plaud their exalted genius, I am in pain for the reſt of
their kindred, both of the Canine and Cercopithecan
ſpecies. The price of monkies has been conſiderably
raiſed ſince the appearance of Signior Ballard's cava-
liers : and I hear, that this inimitable preceptor gives
lectures to the monkies of perſons of quality at their
own houſes. Lady Bridget has deftroyed three ſets
of china in teaching her pug to hand about the cups,
and ſip tea with the air of beau bloffom ;. and Miſs Fan-
ny has been labouring inceſſantly to qualify her dear
pretty creature. to make one at the brag-table.
But as theſe animals are of foreign extraction, I
muſt confeſs my concern is yet greater for my fellow-
natives. Engliſh liberty ſhould be univerſal as the fun;
and I am jealous even for the prerogative of our dogs.
Lady Bright's lap-dog, that uſed to repoſe on downy
cuſhions, or the fofter boſom of its miſtreſs, is now wor-
ried every hour with begging on its diminutive hind-
I 6
legah
132
No. XIX,
THE ADVENTURER.
legs, and endeavouring to leap over fan-ſticks: Cap-
tain Storm's little greyhound is made to ape the fierce
fellows of the cockade in a red coat and a ſword;
whilſt Mrs. Fanciful's Chloe is ſwathed up in a long
ſack, and finking beneath the weight of an enormous
hoop. Every boarding houſe romp and wanton ſchool-
boy is employed in perverting the end of the canine
creation ; and I wiſh the prevalence of Mrs. Mid-
night's example may not extend ſo far, that hounds
ſhall be no longer broke to the field-ſervice, but in-
ſtructed only to climb up ladders, and troul wheelbar-
IOWS.
1
After what has been ſaid, I ſhall make no apology
for printing the following letter, as it was elegantly
done in Engliſh at Stockholm, and tranſmitted to me
by the publiſher of the TWEDE-LANDTE MAGAZINE, an
ingenious gentleman, who has done me the honour of
inſerting ſeveral of my lucubrations in his moſt com-
prehenſive monthly undertaking,
16 To Mr.
the Grand Adventurer, in Britain.
“ Moſt learned Sir,
“ My worthy good friend Iſaac Gilderſtein, book-
" merchant, having engaged to further this to your ex-
" cellency, I moſt humbly requeſt that you would
* make known to your polite, &c. &c. &c. nation,
" that I intend ſhortly to come over, and to entertain
you in a new and moſt inimitable manner.
Seeing that the Chien Savant, and other moſt a.
mazing learned animals, lave met with ſo gracious a
reception in your grand city; I propoſe to exhibit
unto your good nation a concert of vocal and inítrú-
66
66
66
th
66 mental
No. XIX.
133
THE ADVENTURER.
!
** mental muſie, to be performed by animals only; and
" afterwards to entertain you with ſeveral grand feats
os of activity; as alſo with the balance and the dance..
“ My performers of inſtrumental muſic, great Sir,
66 will conſiſt of a ſelect number of Italian cats, for the
violin, violincello, and baſs viol; a German aſs for
“ the kettle-drum; and a complete ſet of Spaniſh hogs
66 of different age and tone of voice for the organ con-
certos.
6 But my vaſt labour was to procure harmonious
voices, and to confine them to proper time and mea-
“ ſure. I have taught ſome of your Engliſh maſtiffs
46 to bark in baſs, and ſome Guinea-pigs to ſqueak in
treble : my cats alſo join in the vocal parts. I con-
" trived divers means of deaths for ſwans; but though.
" the ancients are ſo full of praiſes on their expiring
“ melody, I could not get a fingle note from them,
“ better than the ſquall of a gooſe. However, I ſhall
“ have a moſt charming grand chorus of frogs from the
" Fens of Holland : the words, profound Sir, you too
“ well know, Ariſtophanes has furniſhed to my hand
in Greek-Ryerszexe' xox's Kout--which a Leyden, pro-
" feffor tranſlated for me, Brekekekex koax koax.
56 Beſides theſe, I ſhall preſent you with a duett in re-
46 citativo, between a parrot and a inagpye.
“ My entertainments of dancing, and the like, will
" conſiſt of a company of Norway rats, who are to
move in a coranto, while my cats fiddle to them. A
“ fox will dance a minuet with a gooſe ; and a grey-
“ hound the rigadoon with a hare. I have trained
“ up an elephant who will perform ſeveral tricks in
you call the flight of hand; he will tumble
" with a calle on his back, ayd flicw ſeveral balances
upen
66 what
13.4
No. XIX.
THE ADVENTURER.
1
upon the flack-rope with his trunk.
Many other
" ſurpriſing feats will my animals perform, too tedious.
to mention in this addreſs; and, therefore great Ad-
“ venturer, I ſhall trouble your tired patience with the
mentioning of one only. I have inſtructed the ta-
6 meſt of my cạts to open herjaws at the word of com-
“ mand, into which I. put a bit of. toaſted cheeſe, and
" the leaſt of my mice jumps in and nibbles the bait :
at that inſtant my cat cloſes her mouth upon him:
« after which, to the great aſtoniſhment of all behold-
ers, my cat opens her jaws again, and the mouſe
" leaps out alive upon the ſtage ; and then they both
“ preſent the good company with a jig.
" As I am determined my whole theatre. ſhall con-
“ fiſt of only animal performers, I muſt acquaint you:
“ likewiſe, that I am teaching two ſquirrels to ſweep
" the ſtage with their tails: and, if it be allowed me
to call in aſſiſtance from fiſhes, I ſhall not deſpair of
being able, though it will require much time and
practice, to make a lobſter ſnuff the candles with his
66
66 claw.
“ Other particulars, moſt worthy Sir, I ſhall bega
66 leave to defer, till I have the extreme honour of
“ kiſling your hands in England ; and am,
6 Moſt revered and reſpectable patron,
s With the profoundeſt humiliation,
66 Your devoted ſlave and ſervant,
66 GUSTAVUS GOOTENRUYSCHE:”
No:
No. XX
135.
THE ADVENTURER-
No. XX. Saturday, January 13. 1753,
Quid violentius aure tyranni.
Juva
Rough truth foon irritates a tyrant's ear.
By which of the Indian fages of antiquity the follow-
ing ſtory was written, or whether the people of the
Eaſt have any remote tradition upon which it is found-
ed, is not known: but it was probably related in the
firſt perſon, to give it an air of greater dignity, and
render its influence more powerful: nor would it, per-
haps, appear altogether incredible, to people among
whom the Metempſychoſis is an article of faith, and
the viſible agency of Superior Beings admitted with-
out fcruple.
Amurath, Sultan of the Eaſt, the judge of nations,
the diſciple of adverſity, records the wonders of his life:
let thoſe who prefumptuouſly queſtion the ways of
Providence, bluſh in filence and be wiſe ; let the proud
be humble, and obtain honour; and let the ſenſual re-
form and be happy.
The Angel of death cloſed the eyes of the Sultan
Abradin my father, and his empire deſcended to me
in the eighteenth year of my age. At firſt my mind
was awed to humility, and ſoftened with grief; I was
inſenſible to the ſplendor of dominion; I heard the ad-
dreſſes of flattery with difguft, and received the ho-
mage
736
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XX
mage of dependent greatneſs with indifference. I had
always regarded my father not only with love but re-
verence; and I was now perpetually recollecting in-
ſtances of his tenderneſs, and reviewing the folemn
ſcene, in which he recommended me to heaven in im-
perfect language, and graſped my hand in the agonies
of death.
One evening, after having concealed myſelf all day
in his chamber, I viſited his grave : I proftrated my-
felf on his tomb: ſorrow overflowed my eyes, and de-
votion kindled in my boſom. I felt myſelf ſuddenly
ſmitten on the ſhoulder as with a rod; and looking
up, I perceived a man whoſe eyes were piercing as
light, and his beard whiter than ſnow. 6. I am,” ſaid
he," the Genius Syndarac, the friend of thy father
Abradin, who was the fear of his enemies, and the
o deſire of his people; whoſe ſmile diffuſed gladneſs
S6 like the luſtre of the morning, and whoſe frown was
65 dreadful as the gathering of a tempeſt: reſign thy-
* ſelf to my influence, and thou ſhalt be like him.''
I bowed myſelf to the earth in tuken of gratitude and
obedience, and he put a ring on the middle finger of
my left hand, in which I perceived a ruby of a deep
colour and uncommon brightneſs. “ This ring,” ſaid
he, “ ſhall mark out to thee the boundaries of good
ss and evil; that without, weighing remote conſe-
quences, thou mayeſt know the nature and tendency
só of every action. Be attentive, therefore, to the
“ filent admonition; and when the circle of gold ſhall
" by a ſudden contraction preſs thy finger, and the
s ruby ſhall grow pale, defilt immediately from what
" thou ſhalt be doing, and mark down that action in
{ thy metacry as a tranfgre Mion of the rule of right :
keep
66
No. XX.
139
THE ADVENTURER.
" keep my gift as a pledge of happineſs and honour,
" and take it not off for a moment.” I received the
ring with a ſenſe of obligation which I ſtrove to ex:
preſs, and an aſtoniſhment that compelled me to be
ſilent. The Genius perceived my confufion, and turn-
ing from me with a ſmile of complacency, immediately
diſappeared.
During the firſt moon I was ſo cautious and circum-
ſpect, that the plea'ure of reflecting that my ring had
not once indicated a fault, was lefſened by a doubt of
its virtue. I appled myfelf to public bufineſs; my
melancholy decreaſed as my mird was diverted to other
objects; and left the youth of my court ſhould think
that recreation was too long fufpended, I appointed to
hunt the lion. But though I weut out to the ſport
rather to gratif, others than myle'f, yet my uſual ar-
dour returned in the feld; I grew warm in the purſuit,
I continued the chace, which was unſucceſsful, too
long, and returned fatigued and diſappointed.
As I entered the Seraglio, I was met by a little dog
that had been my father's, who expreſſed his jo at my
return, by jumping round me, and endeavouring to
reach my hand: but as I was not diſpoſed to receive
his carefies, ſtruck him in the fretfulne's of my dif-
pleaſure fo ſevere a blow with my foot, that it left him
ſcarce power to crawl away and hide himſelf under a
ſopha in a corner of the apartment. At this moment
I felt the ring preſs my finger, and looking upon the
ruby, I perceived the glow of its colour abated.
I was at firſt ſtruck with ſurprize and regret ; but
ſurprize and regret quickly gave way to diſdain. “Shall
not the Sultan Amurath,” ſaid I, “to whom a thou-
" ſand kings pay tribute, and in whoſe hand is the life
6%
66 of
138
No: XX
THE ADVENTURER.
of nations, ſhall not Aſurath ſtrike a dog that of-
“ fends him, without being reproached for having
tranſgreſſed the rule of right ?!? My ring again
preſſed my finger, and the ruby became more pale: im-
mediately the palace ſhook with a burſt of thunder,
and the genius Syndarac again-ſtood before me.
“ Amurath," ſaid he," thou haſt offended againſt
“thy brother of the duſt; a being, who, like thee,
" has received from the Almighty a capacity of plea-
6 fure and pain; pleaſure which caprice is not allowed
to ſuſpend, and pain which juſtice only has a right to
" indict. If thou art juſtified by power, in afHicting
“ inferior beings; I ſhould be juſtified in aMicting thee:
" but my power yet ſpares thee, becauſe it is directed
by the laws of ſovereign goodneſs, and becauſe thou
" mayeft yet be reclaimed by admonition. But yield
not to the impulſe of quick reſentment, nor indulge
" in cruelty the forwardneſs of diſguſt, left by the laws
“ of goodneſs I be compelled to afflict thee; for he
* that fcorns reproof, muſt be reformed by puniſhment,
or loſt for ever.""
At the preſence of Syndarac I was troubled, and his
words covered me with confuſion: I fell proftrate at
his feet, and heard him pronounce with a milder ac-
cent, Expect not henceforth that I ſhould anſwer
“ the demands of arrogance, or gratify the ſecurity of
“ fpeculation : confide in my friendſhip, and truſt im-
plicitly to thy ring."
As the chace had produced ſo much infelicity; I did
not repeat it; but invited my nobles to a banquet, and
entertained them with dancing and muſic. I had given
leave that all ceremony ſhould be ſuſpended, and that
the company ſhould treat me not as a ſovereign but an
equal,
16
No. XX.
139
THE ADVENTURER.
equal, becauſe the converſation would otherwiſe be en-
cumbered or reſtrained ; and I encouraged others to
pleaſantry, by indulging the luxuriancy of my own
imagination. But though I affected to throw off the
trappings of royalty, had not fufficient magnani-
mity to deſpiſe them. I enjoyed the voluntary defe-
ference which was paid me, and was ſecretly offended
at Alibeg my Vifier, who endeavoured to prevail upon
the affembly to enjoy the liberty that had been given
them, and was himſelf an example of the conduct that
he recommended. I fingled out as the ſubject of my
raillery, the man who alone deſerved my approbation :
he believed my condeſcenſion to be fincere, and imagi,
ned that he was ſecuring my favour, by that behaviour
which had incurred my diſpleaſure ;. he was, therefore,
grieved and confounded to perceive that I laboured to
render him ridiculous and contemptible; I enjoyed his
pain, and was elated at my ſucceſs; but my attention
was ſuddenly called to my ring, and I perceived the
ruby change colour. I deſiſted for a moment; but
ſome of my courtiers having diſcovered and ſeconded
my intention, I felt my vanity and my reſentment gra-
tified'; I endeavoured to waſh away the remembrance
of my ring with wine; my. ſatire became more bitter,
and Alibeg diſcovered yet greater diſtreſs. My ring
again reproached me; bnt I ſtill perſevered: the Vi.
fier was at length rouſed to his defence ; probably he
had diſcovered and defpifed my weakneſs; his replies
were fo poignant, that I became outrageous, and de-
[cended from raillery.to invective; at length, diſguiſing
the anguiſh of-his mind with a ſmile, “ Amurath,” ſaid
he, “ if the Sultan ſhould know, that after having in-
* vited your friends to feftivity and merriment, you
had
140
No. XX
THE ADVENTURER.
* had aſſumed his authority, and inſulted thoſe who
were not aware that you diſdained to be treated with
“ the familiarity of friendſhip, you would certainly fall
" under his diſpleaſure.” The ſeverity of this far-
caſm, which was extorted by long provocation from a
man warmed with wine, ftung me with intolerable rage :
I ſtarted up, and ſpurning him from the table was about
to draw my poignard: when my attention was again
called to my ring, and I perceived with ſome degree of
regret, that the ruby had faded almoſt to a perfect
white.
But inſtead of reſolving to be more watchfül againſt
whatever might bring me under this filent 'reproof, I
comforted myſelf, that the Genius would no more alarm
me with his preſence. The irregularities of my con-
duct increaſed almoſt imperceptibly, and the inti-
mations of my ring became proportionably more fre.
quent though leſs forcible, till at laſt they were ſo fa-
miliar, that I ſcarce remarked when they were given
and when they were ſuſpended.
It was ſoon diſcovered that I was pleaſed with fer-
vility ; fervility, therefore, was practiſed, and I re-
warded it fometimes with a penſion and fome-
times with a place. Thus the government of my
kingdoms was left to petty tyrants, who oppreffed
the people to enrich themſelves. In the mean
time I filled my Seraglio with women, among whom
I abandoned myſelf to ſenſuality, without enjoying
the pure delight of that love which ariſes from
eſteem. But I had not yet ſtained my hands with
blood, nore dared to ridicule the laws which I neglect-
ed to fulfil.
My
No. XX.
141
THE ADVENTURER.
My reſentment againſt Alibeg, however unjuſt, was
inflexible, and terminated in the moſt perfect hatred :
I degraded him from his office; but I ſtill kept him at
court, that I might embitter his life by perpetual in-
dignities, and practiſe againſt him new ſchemes of ma-
levolence.
Selima, the daughter of this prince, had been in-
tended by my father for my wife; and the marriage
had been delayed only by his death : but the pleaſure
and the dignity that Alibeg would derive from this al-
liance, had now changed my purpoſe. Yet ſuch was
the beauty of Selima, that I gazed with deſire; and
ſuch was her wit, that I liſtened with delight. I there-
fore reſolved, that I would if poſſible ſeduce her to vo-
luntary proſtitution; and that when her beauty ſhould
yield to the charm of variety, I would diſmiſs her with
marks of diſgrace. But in this attempt I could not
fucceed; my folicitations were rejected, ſometimes
with tears and ſometimes with reproach. I became
every day more wretched, by ſeeking to bring cala-
mity upon others ; I conſidered my diſappointment as
the triumph of a ſlave, whom I wiſhed but did not dare
to deſtroy; and I regarded his daughter as the inſtru-
ment of my diſhonour. Thus the tenderneſs, which
before had often ſhaken my purpoſe, was weakened;
my deſire of beauty became as ſelfiſh and as ſordid an
appetite, as my deſire of food ; and as I had no hope of
obtaining the complete gratification of my luſt, and my
revenge, I determined to enjoy Selima by force, as the
only expedient to alleviate my torment.
She reſided by my command in an apartment of the
Seraglio, and I entered her chamber at midnight by a
private door of which I had a key; but with inex.
preſlible
142
No. XX.
THE ADVENTUR ER.
1
preſſible vexation I found it empty. To be thus dif-
appointed in my laſt attempt, at the very moment in
which I thought I had inſured ſucceſs, diſtracted me
with rage ; and inſtead of returning to my chamber,
and concealing my defign, I called for her women.
They ran in pale and trembling: I demanded the
lady; they gazed at me eſtoniſhed and terrified, and
then looking upon each other ſtood filent: I repeated
my demand with fury and execration, and to enforce it
called aloud for the miniſters of death : they then fell
proſtrate at my feet, and declared with one voice that
they knew not where ſhe was ; that they had left her,
when they were diſmiſſed for the night, ſitting on a
fofa penfive and alone; and that no perſon had ſince
to their knowledge paſſed in or out of her apart-
ment.
No. XX.
A
No. XX.
143
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXI. Tueſday, January 16, 1753.
Si genus humanum et mortalia temnitis arma ;
At ſperate Deos memores fandi atque nefandi.
VIRG.
Of mortal Juſtice if thou fcorn the rod
Believe and tremble, thou art judg'd of God.
In this account, however incredible, they perfifted
without variation; and having filled the palace with
alarm and confuſion, I was obliged to retire without
gaining any intelligence by what means I had been
baffled, or on whom to turn-my reſentment. I reviewed
the tranſactions of the night with anguiſh and regret, and
bewildered myſelf among the innumerable poſſibilities
that might have produced my diſappointment. I re-
membered that the windows of Selima's apartment
were open, and I imagined that ſhe might that way
have eſcaped into the gardens of the Seraglio. But
why ſhould the eſcape who had never been confined ?
If ſhe had deſigned to depart, ſhe might have departed
by day. Had ſhe an aſſignation ? and did the intend
to return, without being known to have been abſent ?
This ſuppoſition increaſed my torment; becauſe, if it
was true, Selima had granted to my ſlave, that which
fae had refufed to me. But as all theſe conjectures
were
144
No. XXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
6
66
”
were uncertain, I determined to make her abſence a
pretence to deſtroy her father.
In the morning I gave orders that he ſhould be
ſeized, and brought before me ; but while I was yet
ſpeaking, he entered, and proſtrating himſelf, thus an-
ticipated my accuſation; " May the Sultan Amurath,
“ in whoſe wrath the angel of death goes forth, re-
joice for ever in the ſmile of Heaven! Let the
* wretched Alibeg periſh; but let my lord remember
“ Selima with mercy : let him diſmiſs the ſlave in
“ whom he ceaſes to delight." I heard no more,
but cried out, “ Dareſt thou to mock me with a re-
queſt, to diſmiſs the daughter whom thou haft fto.
“ ien! thou whoſe life, that has been fo often forfeit-
ed, I have yet ſpared! Reſtore her within one hour,
or affronted
mercy fhall give thee
up."
* O!" ſaid
he," let not the mighty fovereign of the Eaft ſport
$6 with the miſery of the weak : if thou haſt doomed us
to death, let us die together."
Though I was now convinced that Alibeg believed
I had confined Selima, and decreed her death, yet I re-
folved to perſiſt in requiring her at his hands; and
therefore diſmiſſed him with a repetition of my com-
mand, to produce her within an hour upon pain of
death.
My ring, which, during this ſeries of events, had gi-
ven perpetual intimations of guilt, which were always
diſregarded, now prefled my finger fo forcibly, that it
gave me great pain, and compelled my notice. I im.
mediately retired, and gave way to the diſcontent that
ſwelled my bofom. " How wretched a ſlave is Amu-
" rath to an inviſible tyrant! a being, whoſe malevo-
" lence or envy has reſtrained me in the exerciſe of
my
46
No. XXI.
145
THE ADVENTURER.
65
66
!
my authority as a prince, and whoſe cunning has
* contrived perpetually to inſult me by intimating that
every action of my life is a crime ! How long ſhall I
groan under this intolerable oppreffion! This ac-
a curſed ring is the badge and the inſtrument of my
“ fubjection and diſhonour : he who gave it, is now,
“ perhaps, in ſome remote region of the air ; perhaps,
“ he rolls fome planet in its orbit, agitates the fouthern
ocean with a tempeft, or ſhakes ſome diſtant region
6 with an earthquake; but wherever he is, he has
“ ſurely a more important employ than to watch my
6 conduct. Perhaps he has contrived this Taliſman,
“ only to reſtrain me from the enjoyment of ſome
good, which he wiſhes to withhold. I feel that
my
“ defires are controuled; and to gratify theſe defires is
" to be happy.” As I pronounced theſe words I drew
of the ring, and threw it to the ground with diſdain
and indignation : immediately the air grew dark; a
cloud burſt in thunder over my head, and the eye of
Syndarac was upon me.
I ſtood before him motion-
leſs and filent; horror thrilled in my veins, and my hair
food upright. I had neither power to deprecate lis
anger, nor to confeſs my faults. In his countenance
there was a calm feverity; and I hcard him pronounce
theſe words : “ Thou haſt now, as far as it is in thy
own power, thrown off humanity, and degraded tly
being: thy form, therefore, ſhall no longer conceal
thy nature, nor thy example render thy vices conta-
gious” He then touched me with his rod; and
while the ſound of his voice yet vibrated in my cars, I
found myſelf in the midſt of a defert, not in the form
of a man, but of a monſter, with the fore parts of iny
body like a wolf, and the hinder parts like a goat. I
Vol. l.
G
66
ch
15S
146
No. XXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
was ſtill conſcious to every event of my life, and my in-
tellectual powers were continued, though my paſſions
were irritated to frenzy. I now rolled in the fand in an
agony not to be deſcribed ; and now haſtily traverſed
the deſert, impelled only by the vain defire of flying
from myſelf. I now bellowed with rage, and now
howled in deſpair; this moment I breathed execration
againſt the genius, and the next reproached myſelf for
having forfeited his friendſhip.
By tles violent agitation of mind and body, the
powers of both were ſoon exhauſted : I crawled into a
den which I perceived near me, and immediately funk
down in a ſtate of inſenſibility. I ſlept, but ſleep, in-
ſtead of prolonging, put an end to this interval of
quiet. The genius ſtill terrified me with his preſence;
I heard his ſentence repeated, and felt again all the
horrors of my transformation. When I awaked, I was
not refreſhed : calamity, though it is compelled to ad-
mit ſlumber, can yet exclude reſt. But I was now
rouzed by hunger; for hunger, like ſleep, is irreſiſtible.
I went out in ſearch of prey; and if I felt any alle-
viation of miſery, beſide the hope of ſatisfying my ap-
petite, it was in the thought of tearing to pieces what-
ever I ſhould meet, and inflicting ſome part of the evil
which I endured; for though I regretted my puniſh-
ment, I did not repent of my crimes: and as I imagin-
ed Syndarac would now neither mitigate nor encreaſe
my ſufferings, I was not reſtrained, either by hope or
fear, from indulging my diſpoſition to cruelty and re-
venge. But while I was thus meditating the deſtruc-
tion of others, I trembled leſt by fome ſtronger ſavage
I ſhould be deſtroyed myſelf.
5
In
No. XXI.
149
THE ADVENTURÈR.
In the midſt of this variety of torment, I heard the
cry of dogs, the trampling of horſes, and the ſhouts of
the hunters: and ſuch is the love of life, however
wretched, that my heart funk within me at the found.
To hide myſelf was impoſſible, and I was too much en-
feebled either to fly or reſiſt. I ſtood ſtill till they came
up. At firſt they gazed at me with wonder, and
doubted whether they ſhould advance : but at length a
flave threw a net over me, and I was dragged to the
city.
I now entered the metropolis of my empire, amidſt
the noiſe and tumult of a rabble, who the day before
would have hid themſelves at my preſence. I heard
the found of muſic at a diſtance : the heralds approach-
ed, and Alibeg was proclaimed in my ſtead. I was
now deſerted by the multitude, whoſe curioſity was di-
verted by the pomp of the proceffion; and was con-
ducted to the place where other favages are kept,
which cuſtom has conſidered as part of the regalia.
My keeper was a black ſlave whom I did not remem-
ber ever to have ſeen, and in whom it would indeed
have been a fatal preſumption to have ſtood before me.
After he had given me food, and the vigour of nature
was reſtored, he diſcovered in me ſuch tokens of fero-
city, that he ſuffered me to faſt many hours before I
was again fed. I was ſo enraged at this delay, that,
forgetting my dependence, I roared horribly when he
again approached me : ſo that he found it neceſſary to
add blows to hunger, that he might gain ſuch an afcen-
dancy over me, as was ſuitable to his office. By this
lave, therefore, I was alternately beaten and famiſhed,
till the fierceneſs of my difpofition being ſuppreſſed by
fear and languor, a milder temper inſenſibly ſtole upon
G 2
me;
1
1.18
No. XXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
me; and a demeanour that was begun by conſtraint,
was continued by habit.
I was now treated with leſs ſeverity, and ſtrove to
expreſs ſomething like gratitude, that might encourage
my keeper to yet greater kindneſs. His vanity was
flattered by my ſubmiſſion; and, to ſhew as well his
courage as the ſucceſs of his diſcipline, he ventured
ſometimes to careſs me in the preſence of thoſe whoſe
curioſity brought them to ſee me. A kind of friend-
ſhip thus imperceptibly grew between us, and I felt
ſome degree of the affection that I had feigned. It
happened that a tiger, which had been lately taken,
broke one day into my den, while my keeper was gi-
ving me my proviſion, and leaping upon him, would in-
ftantly have torn him to pieces, if I had not ſeized the
ſavage by the throat, and dragged him to the ground:
the ſlave preſently diſpatched him with his dagger, and
turned about to careſs his deliverer; but ſtarting ſud-
denly backward, he ſtood motionleſs with aftonifliment,
perceiving that I was no longer a monſter, but a dog.
I was myſelf conſcious of the change which had again
paired upon me, and leaping out of my den, eſcaped
from my confinement. This transformation i confider-
ed as the reward of my fidelity, and was perhaps never
inore happy than in the firſt moments of my eſcape;
for I reflected, that as a dog my liberty was not only
reſtored, but inſured; I was no longer ſuſpected of qua-
lities which rendered me unfit for ſocicty; I had ſome
faint reſemblance of human virtue, which is not found
in other animals, and therefore hoped to be more ge-
nerally carefled.
But it was not long before this joy
ſubſided in the remembrance of that dignity from which
I had fallen, and from which I was ſtill at an immeaſu
rable
No. XXI.
149
THE ADVENTURER.
rable diſtance. Yet I lifted up my heart in gratitude
to the power, who had once more brought me within
the circle of nature. As a brute I was more thankful
for a mitigation of puniſhment, than as a king I had
been for offers of the higheſt happineſs and honour.
And who, that is not taught by affliction, can juftly ef
timate the bounties of Heaven?
As ſoon as the firſt tumult of my mind was paſt, I
felt an irreſiſtible inclination once more to viſit the apart-
ments of my Seraglio. I placed myſelf behind an
Emir whom I kuew to have been the friend of Alibeg,
and was permitted to follow him into the preſence.
The perſons and the place, the retroſpection of my life
which they produced, and the compariſon of what I
was with what I had been, almoſt overwhelmed me. I'
went unobſerved into the garden, and lay down under
the ſhade of an almond tree, that I might indulge thoſe
reflections, which, though they opprefled me with me.
lancholy, I did not wiſh to loſe.
I had not been long in this placc, beſere a little dog,
which I knew to be the ſame that I ſpurned from me
when he careffed me at my return from hunting, came
and fawned at my feet. My heart now ſmote me, and
I ſaid to myfelf, 66 Doft thou know me under this dii-
" guife? Is thy fidelity to thy lord unfhaken? Cut off
" as I am from the converſe of mankind, haft thou pre-
" ferved for me an affection, which I once fo lightly
" eſteemed, and requited with evil? This forgetfulnef:
of injury, and this ſteady friendſhip, are they leſs
66 than human, or are they more?” I was not prevent-
ed by theſe reflections from returning the carefles that
I received! and Alibeg, who juſt then entered the gar.
din,
G 3
iso
No. XXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
den, took notice of me, and ordered that I ſhould not
be turned out.
In the Seraglio I foon learned, that a body, which
was thought to be mine, was found dead in the cham-
ber; and that Alibeg had been choſen to ſucceed me,
by the unanimous voice of the people: but I gained no
intelligence of Selima, whoſe apartment I found in the
poſſeſſion of another, and for whom I had ſearched eve-
ry part of the palace in vain. I became reſtleſs; every
place was irkſome ; a deſire to wander prevailed; and
one evening I went out at the garden gate, and travel-
ling till midnight, I lay down at the foot of a ſycamore-
tree, and ſlept.
in the morning I beheld, with furprize, a wall of
marbie that ſeemed to reach to heaven, and gates that
were ſculptured with every emblem of delight. Over
the gate was inſcribed in letters of gold, “ Within this
56 wall liberty is unbounded, and felicity complete :
4 Nature is not oppreſſed by the tyranny of religion,
nor is pleaſure awed by the frown of virtue. The
gate is obedient to thy wiſh, whoſoever thou art;
enter therefore, and be happy."
When I read this inſcription, my bofom throbbed
with tumultuous expectation : but my deſire to enter
was repreſſed by the reflection, that I had loſt the
form, in which alone I could gratify the appetites of a
man,
Defire and curioſity were notwithſtanding pre-
dominant : the door immediately opened inward; I en-
tered; and it cloſed after me.
65
No.
No. XXII.
151
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXII. Saturday, January 20. 1753.
Rurfus et in viterem fato revoluta figuram.
VIRG.
His native form at length by fate reſtor’d.
BUT
Ur my ears were now ftunned with the diffonance of
riot, and my eye fickened at the contortions of miſery:
diſeaſe was viſible in every countenance, however othe.
wiſe impreſſed with the character of rage, of drunken-
neſs, or of luſt. Rape and murder, revelling and ſtrife,
filled every ſtreet and every dwelling.
As my retreat was cut off, I went forward with ti-
midity and circumſpection ; for I imagined, that I
could no otherwiſe eſcape injury, than by eluding the
notice of wretches, whoſe propenſity to ill was re-
ſtrained by no law, and I perceived too late, that to pli-
niſh vice is to promote happineſs.
It was now evening, and that I might paſs the night
in greater ſecurity, I quitted the public way, and per-
ceiving a houſe that was incircled by a mote, I ſwam
over to it, and choſe an obfcure corner of the area for
my afylum. I heard from within the ſound of dancing
and muſic : but after a ſhort interval, was alarmed with
the menaces of rage, the firieks of terror, and the
wailings
G A
152
No. XXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
wailings of diftreſs. The window of the banqueting
room flew open, and ſome veniſon was thrown out,
which fell juſt at my feet. As I had eaten nothing
ſince my departure from the Seraglio, I regarded this
as a fortunate accident; and after the pleaſure of an un-
expected repaſt, I again lay down in expectation of the
morning, with hope and fear: but in a ſhort time, ma-
ny perſons ruſhed from the houſe with lights, and ſeem-
ed folicitous to gather up the veniſon which řad been
tlirown out; but not being able to find it, and at the
fame time perceiving me, they judged that I. had dea
voured it. I was immediately ſeized and led into the
houſe : but as I could not diſcover that I was the obie
ject either of malignity or kindneſs, I was in doubt
what would be the iſſue of the event. It was not long
before this doubt was reſolved ; for I ſoon learned from
the diſcourſe of thoſe about me, that I was ſuſpected
to have eaten poiſon, which had been intended for a-
nother, and was fecured, that the effect might either
remove or confirm the ſuſpicion. As it was not ex-
pected that the poifon would immediately operate, I
was locked up in a room by myſelf, where I reflected
upon the cauſe and the event of my confinement, with
inexprelible anguiſh, anxiety, and terror.
In this gloomy interval, a ſudden light lione round
me; and I found myſelf once more in thc preſence of
the genius. I crawled towards him trembling and
confounded, but not utterly without hope.
" few moments," ſaid he “ and the Angel of Death
6. Dall teach thce, that the wants of nature cannot be
" ſupplied with ſafety, where the inordinate appetites
*5 of vice are not reſtrained. Thy hunger required
it focd; but the luft and revenge of others have given
16 Yet a
65 thee;
No. XXII.
153
THE ADVENTURER.
" thee poiſon.” My blood grew chill as he fpake; I
diſcovered and abhorred my folly: but while I wiſhed
to expreſs my contrition, I fell down in an agony: my
eyes failed me, I fhivered, was convulſed, and expired.
That ſpark of immaterial fire which no violence can
quench, roſe up from the duſt which had thus been re-
ſtored to the earth, and now animated the form of a
dove. On this new ſtate of exiſtence I entered with
inexpreflible delight; I imagined that my wings were
not only a pledge of ſafety, but of the favour of Syn-
darac, whom I was now more than ever ſolicitous to
pleaſe. I flew immediately from the window, and
turning towards the wall through which I had entered,
I endeavoured to riſe above it, that I might quit for
ever a place in which guilt and wretchedneſs were com-
plicated in every object, and which I now deteíted as
much as before I had deſired. But over this region a
ſulphureous vapour hovered like a thick cloud, which
I had no ſooner. entered than I fell down pariting for
breath, and liad ſcarce ſtrength to keep my wings ſuf-
ficiently extended to break my fall. It was now a mid-
night, and I alighted near the mouth of a cave, in
which I thought there. appeared ſome faint glimmer-
ings of liglat. Into this place I entered without much
apprehenſion; as it ſeemed rather to be the retreat of
penitence, than the receſs of luxury: but left the noiſo
of my wings ſhould diſcover me to any hateful or mil-
chievous inhabitant of this gloomy folitude, I entered
in alence and upon my feet. As I went forward, the
cave grew wider; and by the light of a lamp which
was ſuſpended from the roof, I diſcovered a hermit li-
ſtening to a young lady, who ſeemed to be greatly af-
fected with the events which ſhe was relating. Of the
GS
herniit
154
No. XXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
hermit I had no knowledge ; but the lady I diſcerned
to be Selima. I was ſtruck with amazement at this
diſcovery: I remembered with the deepeſt contrition
my attempts upon her virtue, and I now ſecretly re.
joiced that ſhe had rendered them ineffectual. I
watched her lips with the utmoſt impatience of curio.
fity, and ſhe continued her narrative.
" I was fitting on a ſofa. one evening after I had been
“ careſſed by Amurath, and my imagination kindled as
" I muſed. Why, ſaid I aloud, ſhould I give up the
" delights of love with the ſplendor of royalty ? Since
" the preſumption of my father has prevented my mar-
". riage, why ſhould I not accept the bleſſings that are
s ſtill offered! Why is deſire reſtrained by the dread
66 of ſhame? and why is the pride of virtue offended
66 by the ſoftneſs of nature ? Immediately a thick
6. cloud ſurrounded me; I felt myſelf lifted up and con-
" veyed through the air with incredible rapidity. I
6. defcended, the cloud diffipated, and I found myſelf
ſitting in an alcove, by the ſide of a canal that en.
“ circled a ſtately edifice and a ſpacious garden. I
“ ſaw many perſons paſs along; but diſcovered in all.
ſomething either diffolute or wretched, ſomething
" that alarmed my fears, or excited my pity. I ſuda
" deniy perceived many men with their ſwords drawn,
" contending for a woman, who was forced along ir-
" refiftibly by the crowd, which moved directly towards
" the place in which I was ſitting. I was terrified, and
" looked round me with eagerneſs to ſee where I could
" retreat for ſafety. A perfon richly dreſſed perceiv.
" ed my diſtreſs, and invited me into the houſe which
“ the canal ſurrounded. Of this invitation I haſtily
* accepted with gratitude and joy; but I foon re-
66 markes!
No. XXII.
155
THE ADVENTURER:
66. marked ſeveral incidents, which filled me with new
perplexity and apprehenſion. I was welcomed to a
“ place, in which infamy and honour were equally un-
" known; where every wiſh was indulged without the
“ violation of any law, and where the will was there-
«« fore determined only by appetite. I was preſently
66 ſurrounded by.women, whoſe behaviour covered me
" with bluſhes; and though I rejected the carreffes of
6 the perſon into whoſe power. I was delivered, yet
6 they became jealous of the diſtinction with which he
36 treated me : my expoftulations were not heard, and
my tears were treated with merriment: preparations
were made for revelling and jollity ; I was invited
to join the dance, and upon my refuſal was enter-
6 tained with muſic. In this dreadful ſituation, I
fighed thus to myſelf: How ſevere is that juſtice,
Gá which tranſports thoſe who form licentious wiſhes,
to a fociety in which they are indulged without re-
66 ſtraint! Who ſhall deliver me from the effects of my
own folly? who ſhall defend me againſt the vices of
so others? At this moment I was thus encouraged by
16 the voice of ſome inviſible being. 66. The friends of
virtue are mighty; reject not their protection, and
6 thou art ſafe.” As I renounced the preſumptuous
66. wiſh which had once polluted my mind, I exulted in .
66. this intimation with an aſſurance of relief; and when
“ ſupper was ſet before me, I ſuffered the lady to fervu
" me with ſome veniſon ; but the friendly voice having
46. warned me that it was poiſoned, I fell back in my
sá ſeat and turned pale : the lady inquired carneſtly
66 what had diſordered me ; but inſtead of making a
6. reply, I threw the veniſon from the window, and de-
** clared that ſhe had intended my death. . The maſter
G6
66.
66
66 m
1 56
No. XXIS..
THE ADVENTURER.
64
as of the table, who perceived the lady to whom I ſpoke
change countenance, was at once convinced, that ſhe
" had indeed attempted to poiſon me, to preſerve that
su intereſt which as a rival.ſhe feared I ſhould fubvert.
" He roſe up in a rage, and commanded the veniſon to
* be produced ; a dog that was ſuppoſed to have eaten
it was brought in : but before the event could be
* known, the tumult was become general, and my
ri-
55 val, after having ſuddenly ſtabbed her patron, plun-
ged the fame poignard in her own boſom.
66 In the midſt of this confuſion I found means to
55 eſcape, and wandered through the city in ſearch of
"s fome obſcure receſs, where, if I received not the af-
“ fittance which I hoped, death at leaſt might ſecure
my perſon from violation, and cloſe my eyes on thoſe
“ ſcenes, which, wherever I turned; filled me not only
56 with diſguſt but with horror. By that benevolent
power, who, as a preſervative from miſery, has placed
*s in us a ſecret and irreſiſtible diſapprobation of vice,
my feet have been directed to thee, whoſe virtue has
participated in my diſtreſs, and whoſe wiſdom may
effect
my
deliverance."
I gazed upon Selima, while I thus learned the ar:
dour of that affcction which I had abuſed, with fenti-
ments that can never be conceived but when they are
felt. I was touched with the moſt bitter remorſe, för
having produced one wiſh that could ſtain fo amiabid
a mind; and abhorred myſelf for having uſed the power
which I derived from her tenderneſs, to effect her de-
ſtruction. My fondneſs was not leſs ardent, but it was
more chaſte and tender ; defire was not extinguiſhed,
but it was almoſt abſorbed in eſteem. I felt a paſſion,
to which, till now, I had been a ſtranger ; and the mo-
ment
56
66
79
U
No. XXII
157
THE ADVENTUREX:
1
.
ment love was kindled in my breaſt, I reſumed the form
proper to the nature in which alone it can fubfift, and
Selima beheld Amurath at her feet. At my ſudden and
unexpected appearance, the colour faded from her
cheeks, the powers of life were fufpended, and flie
funk into my arms. I cļaſped her to my breaſt, and,
looking towards the hermit for his afliſtance, I beheld
in his ſtead the friendly genius, who had taught me
happineſs by affliction. At the ſame inſtant Selima re-
covered. Ariſe,” ſaid Syndarac, “ and look round.”
We looked round; the darkneſs was ſuddenly diſſipat-
cd, and we perceived ourſelves in the road to Golcon-
da, and the ſpires of the city ſparkled before us.
" Go," ſaid he, “ Amurath, henceforth the huſband :
36 of Selima, and the father of thy people! I have re-
66 vealed thy ſtory to. Albeg in a viſion; he expects:
s6 thy return, and the chariots are come out to meet
Go, and I will proclaim before thee, Amu-
66 rath the Sultan of the Eaſt, the judge of nations, the
" the taught of heaven; Amurath, whoſe ring is:equal
to the ring of Solomon, returns toreigy with wiſdom,
66 and diffuſe felicity.” I now lifted up my eyes, and
beheld the chariots coming forward. We were re-
ceived by Alibeg with ſentiments which could not be
uttered, and by the people with the loudeſt acclama-
tions: Syndarac proclaimed our return, in thunder that
was heard through all the nations of my empire; and
has prolonged my reign in proſperity and peace.
For the world I have written, and by the world let
what I write be remembered ; for to none who hear of
the ring of Amurath, ſhall its influence be wanting.
Of this, is not thy heart a witneſs, thou whoſe eye
drinks inſtruction from my pen? Haſt thou not a mo-
nitcr
66 thee.
158
No. XXII.
THE ADVENTURËR.
nịtor who reproaches thee in ſecret, when thy foot de-
viates from the paths of virtue? Neglect not the firſt
whiſpers of this friend to thy ſoul ; it is the voice of a
greater than Syndarac, to reſiſt whoſe influence is to
invite deſtruction.
No. XXIII. Tueſday, January 23. 1753,
Qiio fit, ut omnis
Votivâ patcat veluti defcripia tabellá
Viia
Hor,
In books the various ſcenes. of life, he drew, .
As votive tablets give the wreck to view.
Among the many Pocket Companions, New Memo....
randum-Books, Gentleman and Tradeſman's Daily Af-
fiftants, and other productions of the like nature, cal-
culated for the uſe of thoſe who mix in the buſtle of
the world, I cannot but applaud thoſe polite and ele.
gant inventions, the Ladies Memorandum-Books, as
theſe ſeem chiefly adapted to the more important buſi-
nefſes of pleaſure and amuſement. I ſhall not take upon
me to determine which is the moſt preferable : each
of them being, if you believe the folemn aſſeverations
of
No. XXIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
of their proprietors," the beſt and moſt complete of
66 its kind that has hitherto been publiſhed.”
The utility of theſe little books, with reſpect to the
fair ſex, is on the firſt view apparent; as they are di-
vided for each day of the week into diftinct columns,
allotted to the ſeveral branches of engagements, ex-
pences, and occaſional memorandums. Theſe, indeed,
comprehend every thing that can either attract their
regard, or take up their time : I ſhall therefore point
out ſome particular advantages that will ariſe from a
right uſe and regulation of them.
With regard to engagements, it is very well I nown,
what embarraſſinents, jealoufies, and quarrels, have
ariſen from an erroneous management in that moſt ef-
fential part of femalc tranſactions, the paying and re-
ceiving of vifits. It has hitherto been uſual to truſt en-
tirely in this point to the care of an illiterate footman,
or heedleſs porter, who is to take account of all the
raps at the door, and to enter the names of the ſeveral
viſitants in a regular journal. Hence it frequently
happens, that the bond of amity is diffolved, and per-
petual variance created between families, by the mi.
ftake or forgetfulneſs of a ſervant. Lady Formal and
Mrs. Prim were once the moſt intimate females living :
they curtfied to one another regularly at church and.
the playhouſe, talked together wherever they met, and
"left their names once a month alternately at eacła
other's houſe for ſeveral years, till it happened that
Lady Formal's Swiſs forgot to ſet down Mrs. Prim's
laſt viſit to her ladyſhip; which occaſions them now to
ftare at one another like perfect ſtrangers, while each
conſiders the other as guilty of that moſt atrocious
crime, the owing a viſit. A card was ſent two months.:
beforehand
Igo
No: XXIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
beforehand to invite Mrs. Gadabout to a rout; but by
the negligence of the maid it unfortunately miſcarried,
before the date of it was poſted in the day-book, and
confequently ſhe was prevented from going. The af:
front was unpardonable ; her abſence rendered one
whiſt-table uſeleſs; the neglect was told every where;
and the innocent Mrs. Gadabout wonders at the reaſon
why ſhe is ſo feldom invited as a party in card-afſem-
blies. Theſe lamentable miſtakes are, therefore, ef-
fectually guarded againſt by the uſe of the Memoran-
dum-Book, which puts it in every lady's power to keep
a more exact regiſter of all her engagements, and to
ſtate the balance of viſits fairly between debtor and
creditor.
And as there is certainly no virtue more amiable; or
of greater emolument, than female economy, to which
nothing contribntes more than a juſt knowledge of ex-
pences, the Memorandum-Book has alſo wiſely pro-
vided this; in which; under the article of expences,
the lady may ſet down the particular ſums laid out in
maſquerade tickets, fubfcription concerts, wax-lights
for routs, drums or hurricanes, birth-day fuits, chair:
hire, and the like: ſhe may alſo know the true balance
between her winnings and lofings, and make a due re-
giſtry of her debts of honour. For want of this me-
thod many widows of diſtinction have imperceptibly
run out the whole income of their jointures in a fety.
months, and been forced to retire the reſt of the year
into country lodgings; and many married ladies have
been conſtrained to petition the brutes their huſbands
for the advance of a quarter's pin-money to ſatisfy the
importunate dunnings of a needy honourable gameſtera
The
No. XXIII
161
THE ADVENTURER.
i
The blank allotted for Occaſional Memorandums
may be filled up from time to time with the lie of the
day, topics of ſcandal, names and abodes of milliners,
deſcriptions of new faſhions, and a hundred other cir-
cumſtances of equal importance. This will greatly re-
lieve the memory, and furniſh an inexhauſtible ſtore of
matter for polite converſation.
There is another very pleaſing advantage ariſing
from the uſe of theſe books, as we are informed by one
of the compilers, who acquaints us, that ".if preſerved,
" they will enable any lady to tell what buſineſs ſhe
" has tranſacted, and what company (ſhe has been in,
every day, during any period of her life." How
enchanting, how rapturous, muſt ſuch a review prove
to thoſe who make a figure in the polite world! to
live over their days again! to recall the tranſporting
idea of maſquerades, plays, concerts, cards, and dreſs!
to revive loft enjoyments, and in imagination to tread
over again the delightful round of paſt pleaſures !
I was led to the confideration of this ſubject by a
viſit I the other day made a polite lady, whom I found
earneſtly employed in writing. I would have with-
drawn immediately; but ſhe told me ſhe was only enter-
ing ſome particulars in her memorandum-book, which
would ſoon be finiſhed, and deſired me to take a chair.
I expreffed fome curioſity to know her method ; upon
which ſhe very frankly put the book into my hand,
bidding me peruſe it ; “ for,” ſays ſhe,“ I do nothing
6.6 that I need be aſhamed of.” As ſhe was ſoon after
called out of the room, I took the opportunity of tran-
fcribing her first week's account, which I ſhall faith-
fully preſent to my fair readers, as a farther illuſtration:
af
162
No. XXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
of the uſe of theſe books, and, if they pleaſe, as a pat-
tern for their practice.
Engagements. Occaſional Memorandums.
January
1. Monday. To call at City politeneſs into-
Deard's in the morning. lerable! Crammed with
To dine with my huſband's mince-pies, and fatigued
uncle, the city merchant. with compliments of the
ſeaſon! Play at Pope Joan
for pence; (. the crea-
tures!
2. Tueſday. In the morn Ą beantiful new French
ing with the Miſs Flareits, brocade at Silvertongue’s
to drive to the filk-mer on Ludgatehill. Mem. To
cer's, &c.
At night to teize my huſband to buy
go to the Genii.
me a ſuit of it. Engaged
the ſtage-box for Wood-
ward's night.
3. Wedneſday. Expect Ma- Mademoifelle the milliner
demoiſelle la Toure to try tells me Lady Z's in the
on my. French head. In ſtraw, and Captain X is
the evening to pay forty. fuppofed to be the cauſe of
three viſits.
it-Told it as a great fe-
cret at Lady F's, the coun-
teſs of L’s, Mrs. R's, &c.
&c. &c.
4. Thurſday. My own day Miſs Sharp is a greater
at home. To have a drum- cheat than her mamma.
major and ſeventeen card. Company went before five.
tables,
Stupid creature Mrs.
Downright! never to have
read Hcyle !
5. Friday
No. XXIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
163
nack.
Engagements.
Occaſional Memorandums.
5. Friday. To go to the Lady Nicknack finely ta-
auction with Lady Nick- ken in. The whole day a
To dine at home blank. Head-ach. Could
with a parcel of my huſ not dreſs. Went to bed
band's city relations, horrid ſoon ;-before one.
Huſband drunk. Lay a-
lone, my maid ſat by me.
6. Saturday. Monſieur Le My left temple finged with
Frife all the morning to the curling iron. Several
dreſs my head. At night fine French dreſſes at
(being Twelfth-night) at court; but lady Home-
court. To dance, if I can, bread's, paltry Engliſh!
with the handſome Bob Sir John Dapperwit whiſ-
Brilliant.
pered me, that Miſs Bloom
was almoſt as charming as
myſelf. She muſt paint I
am certain.
7. Sunday. If I riſe foon Not up till two. Finiſhed
enough, Saint James's my letter at fix, and ſent
Church. In the afternoon John expreſs with it. Bad
to write a defence of luck
at night. Never
Hoyle to Miſs Petulant at could win on Sundays.
Bath, who has contro Miſs Serious, who hates
verted fome of his princi- cards, ſays it is a judgment,
ples. Lady Brag's in the
evening.
Ainong
164
TAE ADVENTURER. No. XXIII.
Among the articles under expences I found the fol.
lowing.
di si do
1
5° 5..
31 IO
January.
1. Bought at Deard's, a bauble
for a new year's gift to my
little godchild
3. To Mrs. La Toure in part
of her bill
To ditto for extraordinary
trouble
5. Bought at the auction, a
china lap dog
6. Monſicar le Friſe, for drefl-
ing my head, &c.
7. Loftat cards, at Lady Brag's
3 I2
4 9
O 10 6
47 5 0
I intend in a future paper to take notice of ſome
other advantages to be drawn from ſuch a uſe of theſe
Memorandum-Books, as above ſtated; and ſhall at
preſent conclude with defiring my female readers to
ſupply themſelves immediately, and to ſend me an actua.
count of the uſe they make of them.
А
No.
INO. XXIV165
xx
.
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXIV. Saturday, January 27. 1753.
Longa mora eft, quantam noxæ fit ubique repertum,
: a
Enumerare,
OviD.
The various ills ordain'd to man by fate,
Where'er he turns, 'tis tedious to relate.
To the ADVENTURER,
SIR,
You have lately remarked, that the ſedentary and
recluſe, thoſe who have not acquired an exteaſive and
experimental knowledge of mankind, are frequently
warmed with conceptions, which, when communicated,
are received with the moſt frigid indifference. As I
have no pretenfions to this knowledge, it is probable,
that the ſubject of my letter, though it pleaſed me in
the fervour of my imagination, may yet appear to others
trite and unimportant: to your judgment, therefore, I
appeal, as the ſubſtitute of the public, and leave you
to determine both for them and for me.
I have a ſmall eſtate in a remote and ſequeftered part
of the kingdom, upon which I have conſtantly reſided.
As in this place I was not ſeduced to entertainments
that endangered either my virtue or my fortune, I in-
dulged my inclination to books; and by reading I
could always prevent folitude from becoming irkſome.
My
166
No. XXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
My library confifted chiefly of books of entertainment,
but they were the beſt of their kind; and, therefore,
though I was moſt delighted with dramatic writers, I
had no plays but Shakeſpear's. Shakeſpear was, in-
deed, my favourite author; and after my fancy had
been bufied in attempting to realize the ſcenes that he
drew, I ſometimes regretted the labour, and ſometimes
repined that it was ineffectual. I longed to ſee them
repreſented on a theatre; and had formed romantic
ideas of the force they would derive from proper
action, habits, and machinery.
The death of a wealthy relation of my wife's, who
has made my little boy his heir, called me this winter
to London. I ſet out alone : and as I had been uſed
to that reciprocation of affection and duty, whieh con-
ſtitutes the happineſs of a family; as we all met toge-
ther in the evening, after having been ſeparated by
the different employments of the day, with ſmiles of
complacency and good-humour, and mutually rejoiced
in the ſatisfaction which each derived from the
pre-
ſence of the other; I found myſelf, after my firſt day's
journey, in a very forlorn and comfortleſs ſituation at
an inn. My evening was paſſed among people, with
whom I had no tender connection : and when I went
io bed, I reflected, that there was not within many
miles a ſingle perſon, who cared whether I ſhould be
found living or dead in the morning.
The melancholy which this tuation, and theſe re-
fiections, however whimſical, brought upon me, in-
creaſed as my home became more diftant. But the
moment I entered London, ſpeculation was at an end;
the innumerable objects which ruſhed upon my ſenſes
left me power only to hear and fee.
When
No. XXIV.
167
THE ADVENTURER
When I turned into the inn-yard, the firſt thing that
caught my attention was a large ſheet of paper, printed
in characters that differed not only in ſize but colour,
fome being red and others black. By the peruſal of
this pompous page, I learned that a comedy and a
pantomime were to be performed at the theatre in the
evening. It was now two o'clock; and I reſolved to
atone for the want of enjoyments which I had left be-
hind me, by ſecuring what I had been uſed to think
the higheſt intellectual entertainment which art could
furniſh : the play was not indeed a tragedy, nor Shake
fpear's; but if it was not excellent, it was new to me,
and therefore equally excited my curioſity. As ſoon
as I had taken poſſeſſion of a room, and ſafely depo-
fited my portmanteau, I communicated my purpoſe to
my hoſt, who told me I could not have a better op-
portunity ; for that both the play and entertainment
were thought by the beſt judges to be very fine, and
the principal parts were to be performed by the moſt
celebrated actors of the age. My imagination was
fired with this account; and being told that the houſe
would be ſo ſoon full, that to ſecure a good place I
muſt be there by four o'clock ; I haftily ſwallowed
my dinner, and getting into a hackney-coach, was
driven to the theatre, and by the coachman conducted
to the door that leads to the pit.
At this door I waited near half an hour with the
utmoſt impatience; and the moment it was open ruſhed
in, driven forward by the croud that had gathered
round me. Following the example of others, I paid
iny three Billings, and entering the pit among the
firſt that gained admittance, feated myſelf as near as I
could to the center. After having gazed once or twice
round
168
No. XXIV.
THE ADVENTURER
round me with wonder and curioſity, my mind was
wholly taken up in the anticipation of my entertain-
ment, which did not, however, much alleviate the tor.
ments of delay. At length, the ſtage was illuminated,
the laſt muſic was played, and I beheld the curtain rife
with an emotion, which, perhaps, was little inferior to
that of a lover when he is firſt admitted to the pre-
fence of his miſtrefs,
But juſt at this moment a very tall man, by the con-
trivance of two ladies, who had kept a ſeat for him by
ſpreading their hoops, placed himſelf fo exactly before
me, that his head intercepted great part of the ſtage,
and I could now ſee the actors no lower than the knee.
This incident, after all iny care and ſolicitude to ſecure
an advantageous ſituation, was extremely vexatious;
my attention to the play was for ſome time ſuſpended,
and I ſuffered much more than I enjoyed : But it was
not long before the ſcenery and the dialogue wholly
poffefſed my mind : I accommodated myſelf the beſt
I could to the inconvenience of my feat, and thought
of it no more. The firſt aft, as it was little more than
a prelude to the action, pleaſed me rather by what it
promiſed, than by what it gave: I expected the ſequel
with yet more ardour, and ſuffered the interval with all
the fretfulneſs of fufpended curioſity. The ſecond act
gratified my imagination with a greater variety of in-
cidents; but they were ſuch as had a direct tendency
to render appetite too ſtrong for the curb of reaſon: I
this moment rioted in the luxurious banquet, that was
by a kind of enchantment placed before me; and the
next reflected with regret and indignation upon tlofo
arts, under the influence of which I perceived my vir-
tue to be enervated, and that I became contemptible
eve!)
No. XXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
16
1
éven to myſelf. But this ſtruggle did not laſt long :
theſe images, which could not be feen without danger,
were ſtill multiplying before me; my reſiſtance grew
proportionably more languid ; and at lengh I indulged
every ſenſation without inquiring whether I was ani-
mated to the imitation of virtue, or ſeduced by the
blandiſhments of vice.
In the third act I was become acquainted with the
characters, which the author intended to exhibit; and
diſcerned that, though ſome of them were ſuſtained
with great judgment and addreſs, yet others were mif-
taken: I had ſtill fome perſon before me, whoſe man-
ner was that of a player, and who, when I had been
introduced into ſcenes of real life by the kill of an-
other, immediately brought me back to a croud and
a theatre : I found that, upon the whole, I was not ſo
conſtantly preſent to the events of the drama, as if I
had read them filently in my ſtudy, though ſome circum-
ſtances might be more forcibly repreſented: but theſe
critical remarks, as they leffened my pleaſure, I reſolved
to remit. In the fourth act, therefore, I endeavour-
ed to ſupply every defect of the performer by the force
of my own fancy, and in ſome degree I ſucceeded: but
my pleaſure was now interrupted by another cauſe; for
though my entertainment had not been equal to my
expectation, yet I now began to regret that it was al-
moſt at an end, and earneſtly wiſhed that it was again
to begin. In the fifth act, curioſity was no longer ex-
cited; I had diſcovered in what events the action
would terminate, and what was to be the fate of the
perſons: nothing remained but the forms neceſſary to
the concluſion of the play ; the marriage of lovers,
their reconciliation with offended parents, and the ſud-
Vol. I.
H
deh
>
Ito
No. XXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
den reforination of a rake, who had, through the whole
repreſentation, been employed to produce incidents
which might render his vices contagious, and to dif-
play qualities that might ſave them from contempt.
But though the laſt act was thus rendered inſipid, yet I
was ſorry when it was over: I reflected with a figh,
that the time was at hand, in which I muſt return to
the comfortleſs ſolitude of my inn.
But this thought, however mortifying, was tranficnt;
I pleaſed myſelf with the expectation of the pantomime,
an entertainment of which I had no conception, and of
which I had heard the higheſt encomium from thoſe
about me : I, therefore, once more ſat down upon the
riſing of the curtain, with an attention to the ſtage
which nothing could divert. I gazed at the prodigies
which were every moment produced before me with
aſtoniſhment; I was bewildered in the intricacies of en-
chantment; I ſaw woods, rivers, and mountains, alter-
nately appear, and vaniſh ; but I knew not in what
cauſe, or to what end. The entertainment was not
adapted to my underſtanding, but to my ſenſes; and
my ſenſes were indeed captivated with every object of
delight; in particular, the dreſs of the women diſco-
vered beauties which I could not behold without con-
fufion; the wanton careſſes which they received and
returned, the deſire that languished in their eyes, the kiſs
ſnatched with eagerneſs, and the embrace prolonged
with reciprocal delight, filled my breaſt with tumultu-
ous wiſhes, which, though I feared to gratify, I did
not wiſh to ſuppreſs. Beſides all theſe incentives to
diffolute pleaſure, there was the dance, which indulged
the ſpectators with a view of almoſt every charm that
apparel was intended to conceal ; but of the pleaſure
of
No. XXIV.
It
THE ADVENTURER.
of this indulgence I was deprived by the head of the
tall man who ſat before me, and I ſuffered again all the
vexation which had interrupted my attention to
firſt act of the play. But before the laſt ſcene,
my mind had been ſo violently agitated, and the
inconveniencies of ſo long a confinement, in a mul-
titude, were become ſo fenfible, I was ſo much op-
preſſed with heat, and offended with the ſmell of the
candles that were either burning in the ſockets or ex-
piring in ſmoke, that I grew weary of my ſituation;
my faculties were ſuſpended as in a drcam, and I con.
tinued to fit motionleſs, with my eyes fixed upon the
curtain, ſome moments after it fell.
When I was
rouzed from my reverie, I found myſelf almoſt alone;
my attachment to the place was diſſolved, the company
that had ſurrounded me were gone out, and, without
reflecting whither I was to go, I wilhed to follo:v
them.
When I was returned to the inn, and had locked
myſelf into my room, I endeavoured to recover that
pleafing tranquillity in which I had been uſed to reſign
myſelf to ſleep, and which I now regretted to have
once changed for tumult and diſipation : of my thea-
trical adventure I remembered no incident with plea-
fure, but that which when it happened I regarded as a
misfortune, the ſtature of the perſon who fat before
me, which intercepted the more grofs indecencies, and
defended me from their influence. This reflection ir-
mediately opened a new vein of thought; I conſidered
the cvening which I had juſt ſpent as an epitome o
life, and the ſtage as an emblein of the world.
The youth is all ardour and expectation; he looks
around with wonder and curioſity, and he is impatient
H 2
for
172
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXIV.
for the time in which the world is to be thrown open
before him. This time arrives; but he finds ſome un-
expected obſtacle to enjoyment, and in the firſt act of
life he diſcovers, that his hopes are rather transferred
to more diſtant objects, than fulfilled by thoſe which
are preſent. As he proceeds, the ſcene grows more
buſy, and his attachments to life increaſe in number
and in ſtrength: he is now ſeduced by temptation z.
and the moment its influence is ſuſpended, and the
pleaſure which it promiſed is at an end, he abhors it as
debaſing his nature, diſappointing his higheſt hopes, and
betraying him to remorſe and regret.
This is the criſis of life, the period upon which im-
mortality depends. Some continue the conteſt, and
become more than conquerors: they reflect, with gra-
titude to Providence, upon circumſtances which inter-
cepted temptations by adverſity, and perceive that they
ove their ſafety to incidents which they laboured to
prevent. Others abandon themſelves to ſenſuality; and
affecting to believe all things uncertain, eagerly catch
at wharever is offered by the preſent moment, as the
whole of their portion: but at length novelty, that
mighty charm, that beauty of perpetual influence, no-
velty is no more! every object that gave delight is
become familiar; and is therefore beheld, not with de
fire but with diſguſt.
Thus life at length almoſt ceaſes to be a poſitive
good; and men-would ſcarce deſire to live, but that
they fear to die. Yet the ſame enjoyments which are
deſpiſed, are alſo regretted; in time they are remem-
bered without the circumſtances that diminiſhed their
value; and the wretch who has ſurvived them, wiſhes
that they would return. Life, from this period, is
more
1
No. XXIV.
THE ADVENTURER...
173
more wearifome in proportion as it is prolonged; nothing
is expected with ardour, becauſe age has been too often
cheated to truſt to the promiſes of time, and becauſe
to-day has anticipated the enjoyment of to-morrow.
The play is now over, the powers of the mind are ex-
hauſted, and intellectual pleaſure and pain are almoſt
at an end. The laſt ſtage, the ſtage of dotage remains,
and this is the pantomime of life; the images are new
only in proportion as they are extravagant, and pleaſe
only becauſe the imagination is diſtempered or infirm!
but the ſenſibility of corporal miſery remains; infirmi.
ties multiply; the hours of pain and imbecility paſs in
anguiſh which none can alleviate, and in fretfulneſs
which none regard : the palfied dotard looks round
With impotent folicitude; he perceives himſelf to be
alone, he has ſurvived his friends, and he wiſhes to fol-
low them; his wiſh is fulfilled, he drops torpid and in-
fenfible into that gulph which is deeper than the grave,
and it cloſes over him for ever. From this dreadful
picture I ſtarted with terror and amazement : it vanish-
ed; and I was immediately relieved by reflecting that
life, and the joys of life, were ſtill before me; that I:
fhould foon return to my paternal inheritance; that
my evenings would no more be paſſed in tumult, and
end in ſatiety; but that they would cloſe upon ſcenes
of domeſtic felicity, felicity which is pure and rational,
and which is ſtill heightened by the hope that it will
be repeated to-morrow. And is not the human mind
a Stranger and a Sojourner upon earth? has it not an
inheritance in a Better Country that is incorruptible
and undefiled ? an inheritance to which all may return,
who are not ſo fooliſh as, after perpetual diſa oint
ment in the ſearch of pleaſure which they never found,
H 3
ftill
.-74
No. XXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
ítill to continue the purſuit till every hope is precluded,
and life terminates either in the ftupor of inſenſibility,
or the agonies of deſpair.
No. XXV. Tueſday, January 30. 1753.
Sic vifum Veneri, cui placet impares.
Formas atque animos fub juga ahensa.
Scevo mittere cuin joco.
Нов.
- -
in brazen yokes thus Venus binds
Ill-coupled forms and jarring minds,
And gaily cruel joys to ſee
The reftleſs lovers diſagree.
LOGIE.
To the Adventurer,
SIR,
T
HERE are ſome ſubjects upon which a man is better
qualified to write, by having lived in the world than io
a ſtudy; and many of theſe are of the higheſt impor-
tance. Of the infelicities of matrimony I have been
often a ſpe&tator; and of ſome of them I think I have
diſcovered the cauſe, though I have never entered in-
to a philoſophical inquiry concerning the nature of the
paſſions, or the power of reaſon. The facts from
which I have derived my knowledge, I ſhall ſtate
with as much perſpicuity as I can, and leave others to
make what inferences they pleaſe.
Flippanta,
No. XXV.
173
THE ADVENTURER.
Flippanta, a young coquet, whoſe love of the fa-
ſhionable follies was perpetually diſappointed by the
ſevere authority of a father, threw herſelf into the
arms of a lover of fixty-four; believing that ſhe could
with eaſe impofe upon the fondnefs of dotage, that
youth and beauty would render her power abſolute and
unlimited, and that ſhe would therefore be no longer
the flave of formality and caprice. Flippanta was,
however, diſappointed; and in a very few weeks dif-
covered that the economy of a father was now com-
plicated with the jealouſy of a huſband; that he was
fretful, ſelfiſh, and diſeaſed, and expected leſs from her
as a wife, than a nurſe. Infirmities which ſhe had ne-
ver felt lae know not how to be exertet his au-
thority, in proportion as he diſcovered her want of ten-
derneſs; and their miſery is alleviated only by the
hope of ſurviving each other; in which, it muſt be cons-
feiled, the lady has greatly the advantage.
Sophron, by his inſinuating eloquence, prevailed or
the mother of Modeſta, to devote her as a ſacrifice to
learned importance. Love is beneath the dignity of
grey-headed wiſdom; they have therefore ſeparate
beds; while the unhappy victim repines in public, un-
der the pomp of ornaments with which ſhe is decora-
ted, to flatter the pride and proclaim the triumph of
her lord and maſter.
Senilis, to keep up the family name, married a young
girl of a ruddy complexion, and a cheerful temper. He
is fond of her to diſtraction ; but at the ſame time ſo
intolerably jealous, that he queſtions whether the boy,
who has fulfilled the hope with which he married, is
his own.
H4
Urbana
176
No. XXV.
THE ADVENTURER.
Urbana was contracted to Ruſticus by the contri-
vance of their parents, that their family intereſts, toge-
ther with their eſtates, might be united. She had all
the paſſions of a thoroughbred town lady; he the in-
difference of a downright country 'ſquire; they there-
fore never met without mutual upbraidings, in which
the was accuſed of extravagance, and he of brutality.
At length they agreed in this one point, a ſeparate
maintenance.
Pervicax and Tetrica have during twenty years been
continually thwarting each other. As the huſband is
haſty, pofitive, and overbearing; the wife is whimſical,
vain, and peeviſh. They can never agree whether
hoir mutton, ſhall be boiled or roaſted; and the words
ninny-hammer, noodle, and numſcull, are frequently
bandied to and fro betwixt them. Their very ſervants.
are encouraged in impertinence, and their children pro-
tected in diſobedience; becauſe, as one chides, the
other is fure always to excuſe or defende
Mercator was deſirous of ennobling the blood of his
poſterity, and therefore married a fine lady from the
court end of the town. He had been brought up in
the arts of amaſſing money, ſhe in contriving new me-
thods to ſquander it; he had been accuſtomed to a ſet,
tled uniform practice of buſineſs, ſhe to an irregular
reſtleſs courſe of pleaſure. It was impoſſible to recon-
cile their different habits of life ; they therefore jud.
yed it beſt for their mutual quiet, that each ſhould pur-
fue their favourite ſchemes without moleftation. Con-
ſequently, while the good man is intent upon bargains
at 'Change, ſhe is ſlumbering in bed; when the family
are at dinner, ſhe is drinking her chocolate; and while
he is adjuſting his account-books, ſhe is diſcharging her
viſiting
No. XXV:
1779
THE ADVENTURER
viſiting debts. He is often reeling home from the
club, when his wife is ſet down to a whiſt-table, or
dreſſing for the ridotto; and juſt as the clerks are en-
tering upon buſineſs in the counting-houſe, ſhe is per-
haps retiring to reſt. Thus do they live as far afunder
as perſons in the different antipodes : while my lady is--
the aſtoniſhment of the grave Aldermen at their city-
balls : and Mercator is allowed to be a quiet, inoffen-
five, good-natured kind of beaſt, among madam's ac-
quaintance.
Urania married a man who was deemeda: wit
and a ſcholar, becauſe as The valued herſelf upon
theſe qualities, ſhe was not willing they ſhould be over..
looked. Between Urania and her huſband, there was a
perpetual conteſt for fuperiority; they regarded each
other with all the malignity of rivals; every conver--
fation terminated in a debate, and every debate in con-
temptuous inſult, ſullennefs, or rage. But if ſhe had
married a perſon, whoſe chief ambition was not lite
rary excellence, he might have admired her qualities,
and ſhe might have approved of his ; there would have
been a mutual deference paid to each other, and their
life would not only have been peaceful but happy.
Theophila, who, for the practice of that virtue
which is ſublimed by religion, had been called the de.
votee, obviated the ſcruple which her own mind ſug-
geſted againſt marrying a free-thinker for whom the
could not fupprefs her inclination, by flattering herſelf
that ſhe ſhould be able to convert him. Accordingly,
ſhe at firſt expoftulated, then reaſoned, and at length
upbraided; but without producing any other effects
than altercations, coldneſs, and averfion. As his home
became irkſome, and he had no icady principles of vir-
tue,
1
Il 5.
178
.
THE ADVENTURER.
.
No. XXVup
tue, he took to drinking: and now, while he is curfing
the hypocriſy of prudes over his bottle, ſhe is weeping
in her cloſet, regretting the folly of her preſumption,
and dreading the brutality of drunkenneſs.
The blind wonder-working boy, who reconciles con
tradictions, and even breaks down the mounds of party
brought a couple of fond creatures ſecretly together,
at a time when their parents were irreconcileably di-
vided about the names Whig and Tory. The miſt of
love, which before blinded their underſtandings, has
been long diſſipated; and they are perpetually ripping
the diffentions of their grandfathers, and diſcuſſing
the propriety of the word abdication. The wife looks
upon her huſband as a mean-ſpirited time-ſerver; and
he often rails at her, for teaching her children to liſp
treaſon, and bringing them up with a bias to popery
and arbitrary power.
Deborah was advanced from the kitchen to the par.
lour, by the unreſtraired paflion of her inconfiderate
maſter: but ſhe was only exalted to a more fplendid
ſervitude, and condemned to drudge all her life in the
double capacity of wife and mnaid.
Laſcivia, to ſecure herſelf a pretence for indulgii.g &
ſcandalous licentiouſneſs, ran away with her father's
footman. She had been forced, at the expence of a
confiderable annuity, and the reverſion of her eſtate af-
ter death, to lay him under articles never to come near
her while ſhe is living.
Parcus, a city plumb, from a principle of frugality,
took unto himſelf a plain neighbour's daughter without
a penny, as he thought it would be cheaper than to
eſpouſe a fine courtly lady, though with a mint of mo-
ney. 'Tis true lhe coſts him but a trifle in clothes ; ſhe
lias no talte for nicknacks, and kickſhaws, and whim-
whams;
No. XXV.
THE ADVENTURER.
179
a
whams ; ſhe hates company, and never touches a card;
but then ſhe is always ſending hot plates of meat to one
neighbour who is fick ; bottles of wine to another who
lies-in; and gives away every week ſuch a load of bro-
ken victuals, bread, butter, cheeſe, coals, candles, and
ſmall beer, that the expences of houſe-keeping would
almoſt ruin a Lord Mayor. She is, beſides, eternally
teizing him to bind an uncle's fon 'prentice, to ſet up
fifth couſin, to fit out an old acquaintance's child to ſea,
or to buy clothes for another; and Parcus complains,
that he is eat out of houſe and home, by the daily vi-
fits of his wife's poor relations.
Pray, Mr. Adventurer, do not theſe infelicities ariſe
principally from an injudicious choice, rather than from
the vices and follies of the parties? Will you, who arc
a philoſopher, give us a proper lecture upon theſe facts,
or demonſtrate, a priori, how miſery may be avoided in
that ſtate, which is generally agreed to be capable of
more happineſs than any other.
А
I am, SIR,
Your humble Servant,
JOHN TOWNLEY
IÓ
R:,
180
No. XXVI..
+
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXVI. Saturday, February 3. 1753
E ardelionum quædam Romæ natio,
Gratis anbelans
PHÆDRUS
Through all the town the bufy triflers fwarm,
Fix'd without proof, and without int’reſt warm.
To the ADVENTUEER,
SIR,
The character which you have aſſumed, encourage3
zne to hope, that you will not be deterred either by
coil or danger, from entering the lifts as the champion
of diſtrefled beauty. That the ſufferers may poſſibly
be unknown, and the ſcene of action is remote, are cir...
cumſtances of no moment; for neither ſeas nor deſerts
are inſuperable to perſeverance and valour; and the
hero's country is circumſcribed only by the limits of
the world. Nothing more, therefore, is neceſſary, than
to acquaint you with the wrong which you are to re-.
dreſs, and the offender whom you are to punith.
Two virgin Princeſſes, the daughters of a mighty
monarch, who, in the pompous language of the eaſt is
filed Lord of the whole Earth, diſcovered, while they
were yet very young, ſomething fingular in their natu-
ral temper and diſpoſition. One of them was remark-
able for cheerfulneſs, which was not, however, ſo much
excited
No. XXVI.
18E
THE ADVENTURER.
excited by external objects, as by ſcenes of pleaſantry.
with which ſhe was continually entertained. by the
ſtrength of her imagination : her countenance was
dimpled with perpetual ſmiles; and her eyes, yet more
expreſſive, ſeemed to ſparkle with laughter. The de-
portment of the other was folemn, and her walk majef-
tic: her eyes looked equally piercing, but leſs active;
they appeared not often to change, but long to con-
template their object : ſhe delighted equally in the
pleaſures of imagination, but they were of a different
kind; her fancy did not form objects of ridicule, but
of pity; and ſhe would imagine herſelf leaning her
whole weight on a ſhrub that projected from the brow
of a precipice, till it gave way, and the ſtarted with
horror at the danger, merely that ſhe might ſuddenly
reflect upon her fafety, and enjoy the pleaſure of awak-
ing from a terrifying dream.
As theſe were enjoyments that promiſcuous company '
rather interrupted than improved, both thefe ladies,
however different in other reſpects, agreed in the love
of ſolitude; and having obtained the conſent of their
father, they retired to a rural ſituation, which was
healthful, pleaſant; and romantic. It was the ſummit
of a high hill, which was watered by a fine ſpring:
from hence they had an unbounded proſpect; and the
air on this ſpot is ſaid to have a peculiar quality, that
excites pleaſing dreams, impreffes new ideas upon the
mind, and illuminates with intuitive knowledge. The
ladies were here viſited by their Siſters, and a young
Prince of extraordinary beauty, who was celebrated
for his ſkill in all ſcience, but chiefly in muſic and
poetry. The enjoyment of wit, literature, and harmo-
ny, excluded from this ſelect fociety every deſire that
contaminates
132
No. XXVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
contaminates the mind of idleneſs, and degrades reaſon
by brutal ſenſuality: the Prince was received by the
royal virgins, not as a lover but a friend; and he viſited
them, not as beauties, but as wits.
The place of their retreat was foon known, and their
preſence rendered it illuſtrious. Here they received
the cheerful homage of voluntary ſubjection, and from
hence they diffuſed an influence, which not only poliſhed
but ennobled mankind. Such would long have been
their felicity and glory : but the grim tyrant of a nor-
thern climate, a region of cold and darkneſs, at the
head of a numerous band of deſperate ſavages, ſuddenly
invaded the country. No force was found fufficient to
oppoſe thoſe who had been driven forward by famine;
the fury of hunger and rapine was irreſiſtible; the
Princeſſes fled with the utmoſt precipitation, and the
Barbarians, who regarded every thing with malignity
by which they were excelled, razed the palace ſo com-
pletely that ſcarce a veſtige appeared, and obliterated
all traces of the royal influence wherever they were
diſcovered.
Thc Princeſſes directed their courſe weſtward; and
after having long wandered from place to place, and
paſſed through great varieties of fortuue, they at laſt
took refuge in a ſmall iſland, which was governed by a
prince, whoſe confort was their half fifter, being the
daughter of their father, though by another wife. The
prince received them with peculiar marks of diſtinc-
tion, and appointed a great officer, one of the principal
lords of his court, to: ſuperintend the meaſures that
were immediately taken for their accommodation.
'Two ſumptuous palaces were foon prepared for their
reſidence, and their houſehold was immediately ſettled:
they
No. XXVI.
. THE ADVENTURER.
183
they were frequently viſited by the king; the queen
often declared that ſhe conſidered them as being more
particularly under her patronage; they quickly became
extremely popular, and were ſcarce leſs happy there
than upon their favourite hill. As they greatly ex-
celled in all the arts of converſation, as their eloquence
could always command the paſſions, and their know-
ledge improve the underſtanding, every one was foli-
citous to be admitted to their preſence; and that they
might gratify a people, among whom they had received
fo many favours, they reſolved to have a certain num-
ber of public days, on which every one fould be ad-
mitted without fcruple,
But that all their conveniencies and ſplendor miglit
be procured, though at a great expence, yet without
inpoſing a general tax or burthening the Public, it was
contrived that the ſervants of the Princeſles mould be
paid by their vails; and, that the reward of their labour
might not depend wholly upon caprice, it was ordered
that thoſe who attended the Princeſſes only on public.
days, and did not pretend to have a right to viſit by
their intimacy or ſtation, ſhould receive a ticket, for
which they ſhould pay a certain fee to the porter.
There is in this iſland, a certain perſon, ſaid to be
deſcended from a race of giants that were its original
inhabitants, who has ſuch power and influence, though
he has often been ſuſpected to be mad, that the king
himſelf treats him with great deference. In the height
of his plirenzy he has boaſted, that his voice is the
voice of God, and that all the fovereign princes in the
world are his vicegerents. Of this perſon every one
ſtands in awe; the queen is his principal favourite : and
for her faké he is well affected to the king, whom he
5
has
84
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXVI.
1
has often defended, when every other power would
have been ineffectual. He has a natural fon who pof-
feffes all his ill qualities, but of his virtues is wholly
deſtitute; he affumes the name, the deportment, and
the ſtile of his father, whofe fondneſs has encouraged
him to commit many enormities, from which he would
have been otherwiſe deterred.
This perſon, of whom every body is afraid, not only
becauſe his own power is very great, but becauſe to re-
preſs his inſolence might give offence to his father,
comes frequently to the palaces of the Princeſſes, and
makes no fcruple to purchaſe a ticket with the cuſto-
mary fee : but he is ſubject to fits of ſudden and out-
rageous frenzy, in which he pretends, that the ſervants
of the Princeſſes become his own, by receiving his fee
for admittance to their preſence; and he treats them
with the cruel inſolence af a capricious tyrant, and in-
troduces the wildeſt tumult and confuſion. The reſt of
the company are terrified and diſappointed; he per-
ceives it, and compels them to depart : nay, he has
ſometimes offered violence to the ladies themſelves ;
he has, either by menaces or by bribery, gained fome
of their ſervants over to his own intereſt : and to gra-
tify an unaccountable humour, he has prevailed upon
them to admit a kind of Necromancer, with whoſe.
feats he is greatly delighted, into the public room,
where innumerable effects of his art are exhibited; and
it is faid, that by the ſame influence, one of the palaces
has been made a receptacle for wild bealls, and that all
the gambols of folly have been played in a place, that
was intended for the afylum of beauty and wit, and for
the ſchool not only of wiſdom but of virtue.
with
+
No. XXVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
185
With the author of this confuſion the Adventurer
is requeſted to engage : and if his zeal and his abilities
are equal to hís boaſt, he is expected immediately to
declare himſelf the champion of the Princeſſes, by pub-
liſhing his defiance to the following effect :
" That the Princeſſes alone have a right to the pa-
" laces, which have been allotted to them by the mu-
"nificence of the ſovereign of the iſland ; that their
- ſervants are accountable only to them, to the ſove-
e reign, or to the lord whom he has appointed to fu-
perintend the houſehold ; that every man is at li-
berty to be abſent, who thinks the entertainment not
* worthy of his attendance, or the fee for his admit-
tance too exorbitant; but that no man has a right
to diſturb, to terrify, or to diſappoint an aſſembly,
" which is ſuppoſed to be in the immediate preſence of
656 the fovereign, to whom they owe allegiance : and I
"challenge to ſingle combat, whoever ſhall affirm the
contrary."
66
66
I am, Şir,
Your's, 8c.
Flavilla, a lady who fometimes honours me with a
viſit, was preſent when I received this letter. Flavilla,
though ſhe has all the ſprightlineſs of a coquet, has
been a great reader, and is not behind thoſe who dir-
covered a political fatire under the Rape of a Lock, in
refolving a riddle or penetrating an allegory. I put
the letter into her hand, and threw myſelf back in my
eaſy chair with an air of importance; “ There," ſays I,
66. read that; and ſee what rank I hold in the eſtima-
- tion
186
No. XXVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
« tion even of thoſe, by whom my province is mif-
“ taken."
I fixed my eyes upon her, and waited with impa-
tience till he had read it. But how was I diſappointed
to hear her cry out,
Good Sir, your province and
your importance are miſtaken by none but yourſelf.
“ Could not your fagacity diſcover this letter to be an
allegory :" Pray, Madam, ſaid I, will you be plea-
fed to communicate to me, what you imagine to be the
hidden meaning which that allegory envelops? “ La,"
ſays ſhe, “ you are fo dull to-day! Why are not the
" Comic and the Tragic Muſe the daughters of Jupi-
" ter; and did they not, with the reſt of the Muſes,
" their fifters, reſide on Parnafſns, a lofty hill that was
* watered by the Caftalian ſpring? Were they not
" there viſited by Apollo, the patron of all ſcience, and
“in particular of poetry and muſic? Did they not lly
" weſtward at the approach of Barbarians, who,
" though they left behind the glooms of the inhoſpi-
“ table North, yet brought with them the “ Cimme-
- rian darkneſs of ignorance," and ſcarce left any traces
“ of ſcience in the countries through which they paſſed?
“ Did not the lovely fugitives find refuge in Britain ?"
But pray, Madan, ſaid I, ſhaking my right foot which
hung over my left knee, will you condeſcend to tell
me, who is the conſort of the king who afforded them
protection ? My letter ſays ſhe was half-ſiſter to the
ladies whom you ſuppoſe to be two of the muſes.
46 Who," replied Flavilla pertly, “but Liberty: is
not Liberty the perpetual confort of the Kings of
“ Britain ; and will any diſpute, that Liberty is de-
“ rived from Jove, the Parent of Good ?? Go on,
Madam, feid I. “ The great officer," ſaid the, is the
Lord
No. XXVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
187
1
>
66
“ Lord Chamberlain; the palaces are the Theatres,
" which by Royal authority are appropriated to the
“ uſe of Tragedy and Comedy, their attendants, the
* Players, are, indeed, the ſervants of the King, and
are paid by the ſtated fees for admittance into the
" houſe. The Public is the moſt potent and venerable
body upon earth; and the Town, its illegitimate
offspring, is inſolent, capricious, and cruel : the
* Town is perpetually inſulting the Players as its fer-
vants ; though as ſervants to the Town, the law con-
fiders then as enemies to ſociety; and it is as fer.
vants to the King only, that they are permitted to
* exhibit public entertainments. It is to humour the
“ Town, that the Necromancer Harlequin has affo-
ciated with tumblers and favages, to profane the
" place, which, under proper regulation, would indeed
" be the ſchool of wiſdom and virtue. Every one
" preſent at a theatrical performance is ſuppoſed to be
“ in the-Royal Preſence; or at leaſt the Players are
66 under his more immediate protection: as every mali
“ has a right in common with others to the dramatic
“ entertainment of the evening, when he has purchaſed
an admittance to the houſe, it follows that no man
“ has a right to monopoliſe or to deſtroy it. An empty
“ houſe is by the Players deemed the moſt dreadful
" ſign of popular diſapprobation; and when the Public
are diſpleaſed with the entertainment that is offered
แ
them, to neglect it will be the moſt effectual inéans
44
to procure a better : and as a full or a thin houſe,
“ will indubitably expreſs the ſentiment of a majority,
“ the complaints of a faction ſliould be wholly difre-
garded."
Flavilla
188.
No. XXVI.
THE ADVENTURER.
Flavilla, as ſhe concluded this ſpeech, in which the
began to grow very warm, caſt her eyes upon me, and
expected my reply. But as I continued to gaze with
great gravity at the fire, and remained ſilent, the gave
me a ſmart ſtroke with her fan, accompanied with this
interrogation; “ You fullen monſter, why don't you
ſpeak ? Do you hear me? publiſh the letter, with
my expoſition, in your next paper, or-” Madam,
ſays I, bowing, it hall be done. In obedience, there-
fore, to her command, and in juſtice to myſelf, I lay
the ſtate of our controverſy before the Public, and
doubt not but that we ſhall be both ſatisfied with their.
determination.
No. XXVII. Tueſday, February 6. 1753.
NUXTOS
-Αιθηρτε και 'Hμερα εξεγενοντο.
HESIOD.
From night aroſe the fun-ſhine and the day, -
T
He following letter was the firſt voluntary contribu-
tion I received; and if it had been longer, it would
have been ſooner communicated to my readers. It is
written in the name of a Lady, to whom I am indeed
under many obligations ; to whom I owe great part of
the knowledge which I have acquired, and under whoſe
influence many of theſe lucubrations were written.: her
character is aſſumed by iny correſpondent with great
art;
No. XXVII.
THE ADVENTURER.
189
art; but I diſcovered that it was not real, by the con-
cluſion of the letter, in which I am invited to an inti.
macy that I have long enjoyed.
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
Dec. 15. 17526
Without detracting from the merits of your corre-
ſpondent of Tueſday laſt *, whoſe pretenſions to public
regard are undoubtedly well founded, I beg leave to
make your paper my channel to fame ; and am per-
ſuaded the judicious reader will admit of my claim,
when he is acquainted with my hiſtory; and notwith-
ftanding my fifter has artfully enough infinuated her
fuperiority, and indeed hinted reflections capable of
wounding the moſt innocent character, as the firſt ſtory
is generally well told, I ſhall appeal to the impartial
examiner, and expect my ſhare of honour from his de.
cifion.
I ſhall begin then with informing you, that I am the
elder, a circumſtance my siſter's pride made her fup-
prefs, and in the opinion of the beſt judges the hand-
ſomer; this her own vanity will hardly deny, nor does
the attempt to ſhine but in my abſence. She is indeed
fairer ; but dark beauties are not only more agreeable,
but more durable ; and as ſhe has little to recommend
her but her face, the indifference and neglect ſhe com-
plains of is the lefs to be wondered at. Beſides, the
glare ſhe affects in public, the fickleneſs of her beha-
viour, the pleaſure ſhe takes in diſcovering the ſecrets
entruſted to her; and, above all, the fraud ſhe practiſes
by continual promiſes of being always the fame, are
fufficieitt
* Numb, XI.
Y90
No. XXVII.
THE ADVENTURER
ſuficient reaſons, why half who know her pay her ſo
little regard.
For my own part, oftentation is my averſion; and
my pride, which makes me fond of admiration, prevents
my uſing a mean condeſcenſion to procure it. Though
I dreſs well, I am never gaudy; and when I appear in
iny blue robe with gold ſpangles, and a creſcent on my
forehead, I have the ſatisfaction of ſeeing myſelf ogled
even by Philfophers. Some of my fex may think this
a triumph of ſmall importance, and prefer the unmean-
ing applauſes of a coxcomb to the approbation of a man
of underſtanding ; but experience, the mother of true
wiſdom, has long ſince convinced me, that real beauty
is beſt diſcerned by real judges, and the addreſſes of a
fenfible lover imply the beſt compliment to the under-
ftanding of his miſtreſs.
The affability of my temper, indeed, expoſes me to
the viſits of all parties; and my eaſineſs of acceſs too
frequently engages me in the diſagreeable company of
fools and ſharpers : nay more, ſometimes I am the un-
willing ſpectator of riot and intemperance; but when
this happens, I generally throw in ſome reproof, and
make the libertine, though he curſes me, repent his
excefs: nor is it the leaſt of my praiſe, that my ap-
proach ſtrikes terror to the foul of the villain.
I might riſe in the reputation I fo juftly demand, by
recounting the many important ſervices I have done
mankind : I have conducted armies in ſafety, inſpired
politicians, reſcued the diſtreſſed, and bleſſed the bright-
eſt eyes in Britain; I have induſtrioully concealed the
fcandal my fifter has propagated ; and received, with a
condeſcenſion ſcarce found in a rival, the wretch whom
her follies had made weary of her ſervicc.
Ву
No. XXVII.
191
THE ADVENTURER.
ance.
A
By this time you may be deſirous of my name, aid
I think it no vanity to add, ambitious of my acquaint-
I formerly was a friend to the Rambler, nor
will the Adventurer's intimacy with me leſſen him in
the opinion of his readers. For a proof of this, a great
Genius of the preſent age courted my aſſiſtance; and
in gratitude for the favours he received from me, placed
my name in the title-page of the beſt book in the lan-
guage. After this explanation, it is almoſt unneceſſary
to ſubſcribe myſelf at your ſervice.
S
NIGHT.
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
It has been long my opinion, that a man's general re-
putation rather finķs than riſes, upon his being firſt di-
ftinguiſhed by a public encomium; for one voice that
echoes the praiſe, there are a hundred, which, to in-
dulge the ſpleen that it excites, are employed in de-
traction. But of this perverſeneſs and malignity I have
never remarked a ſtronger inſtance, than in the effects
of your recommendation of Mr. Ratſey and Mr. Wood-
ward ; two gentlemen, who almoſt every day, at a
conſiderable expence, generouſly repeat their offers to
ſave the poor from the miſeries of an hoſpital, by curing
them gratis, with much more eaſe, expedition, and
ſafety.
Some perſons, rather than admit the uncommon me-
rit of theſe gentlemen, liave invidiouſly repreſented
your encomium as an irony ; and others have even ven-
tured to deny the facts upon which it is founded. But
though every paragraph which was intended to reward
ingenuity,
192
No. XXVII.
THE ADVENTURER.
8
îngenuity, is thus oppoſed or perverted; yet that, in
which you have inadvertently diſgraced it, is, from the
fame motives, received in its genuine fenfe, and readily
admitted to be true. It is denied, that Mr. Ratſey
ever removed an incurable diſeaſe, and that Mr. Wood-
ward is more ſucceſsful in the cure of ruptures than
the hoſpital Surgeons; but it is univerſally believed,
that the youth whom you mention received no benefit
from the truffes that were worn by his friends, this,
however, is a fact in which you are yourſelf egregiouſly
miſtaken, and which you have greatly miſrepreſented.
You tell us, indeed, that this method deferves to be
remembered for farther experiments; but you infinuate,
that it was among thoſe which had been practiſed with-
out ſucceſs, before the patient was put under Mr.
Woodward's care : on the contrary, it was directed by
that great artiſt himſelf; and is one of the moſt uſeful
improvements that he has made in ſurgery, though it is
not to be depended upon alone. As an inconteftible
proof of your miſtake, and of the miſchief which it has
produced, I ſhall recite another addreſs to the Public
in the behalf of Mr. Woodward, by which it appears
that he now wears truſſes for his patients himſelf. It is
intituled, “ The humble thanks of Elizabeth Tipping,
16 for her cure in a rupture, gratis."
A Gentleman,” ſays Mrs, Tipping, recommended
me to Saint Bartholomew's Hoſpital, and in their *
goodneſs gave me a truſs to wear; and in wearing
it, to my grief, I found more pain than ever I felt
« before ; and I muſt have laboured under this great
< misfortune
79
* It cannot certainly be known, whether by their is meant the
gentleman of the hoſpital.
No. XXVII.
193
THE ADVENTUREK,
“ misfortune all the days of my life, had not Mr.
“ Woodward, through charity, took me under his care:
“ By his tender compaſſion towards me, in giving me
“his powders with drops, and wearing his new-invented
“ bandages, my pains left me.""
It appears, therefore, that Mr. Woodward, inſtead
of giving Mrs. Tipping a truſs to wear, as the gentle-
man of the hoſpital had done, gave her only his pow..
ders with drops, and wore the truſs himſelf. As the
facts, however ſtrange, will be atteſted at Mr. Ruffel's
toy-ſhop in the Hay-market, and Mrs. Sotro's, the
corner of Spring-Gardens, it muſt follow as an inevi-
table conſequence, that when, by the old erroneous
cultom of applying truffes or bandages to the patient,
the malady is increaſed, it may be wholly removed
by medicaments, properly adminiſtered to them, and a
truſs judiciouſly applied to another. In Mrs. Tipping's
caſe, indeed, there appears to have been ſomething
critical, becauſe Mr. Woodward would truſt none but
himſelf with the inanagement of the bandage, by which
he intended to effect her cure ; though the truſs for
his Kentiſh patient was worn by the miniſter and church-
wardens of the pariſh. There is, however, another
reaſon for this conduct, which I am unwilling to ſug-
geft: your paper may have diſcouraged others from
concurring in this method of cure, by iniinuating that
it was troubleſome, and had been practiſed without
ſucceſs. If this ſhould be true, how have you increaſed
the labour of this beneficent Surgeon, and at the ſame
time circumſcribed his power of doing good! It is
ſcarce poſible that he ſhould be able, by any contri-
vance, to wear more than ten of his bandages at one
Vol. I.
I
time;
194
No. XXVII.
THE ADVENTURER.
time; and how ſmall a number is ten, compared to the
multitudes that apply for his aſſiſtance ?
Upon the whole, whatever was your intention, I
am afraid your paper has produced but one good effect.
As modeſty is always the concomitant of merit, Mr.
Ratſey no longer offers health to thoſe, who have ſuf-
fered others to reiider their diſeaſes incurable: but
leaves them to periſh, for the preſervation of thoſe that
ſurvive,
I am, SIR,
1
Your humble ſervant,
T. FRIENDLY.
As it is the opinion of Mr. Friendly, that I have
conferred no honour by my panegyric, I ſhall now at-
tempt to effect my purpoſe by cenſure. As phyſic is,
perhaps, the moſt difficult of all the ſciences, no man
more honours thoſe who excel in it than myſelf: if I
cannot, therefore, animate them in the race, I may at
leaſt clear the way about them, and afford merit a fairer
chance, by leffening the number of competitors, who
may obſtruct others, though they cannot run tliem-
felves.
It is frequently admitted, among perſons whoſe
judgment is not otherwiſe contemptible, that a man
without parts and without literature may practiſe phy-
fic with ſucceſs; or, in other words, that an illiterate
blockhead may be a good phyſician. But as this
maxim appears to me to be little leſs formidable than
a peſtilence, I think I ſhall do conſiderable ſervice to
mankind if I can prevent it from ſpreading.
That
No. XXVII.
195
THE ADVENTURER.
1
That the following argument may be more eaſily
comprehended and remembered, I have laboured to
contract it into a ſmall compaſs, and to expreſs my
thoughts with the utmoſt plainneſs and perfpicuity.
I. Medicines are not ſpecific antidotes for certain
diſeaſes, which we hear diſtinguiſhed by known
and general names :
-For,
II. Twenty perfons may be ill of a fever; and this
fever may be ſo much a different diſeaſe in each,
that an application which would certainly cure
one of them, would certainly kill another : ſo that
the very efficacy of the medicine, if it is un-
ſkilfully adminiſtered, increaſes the danger.
III. The inveſtigation of diſeaſes; the diſcovery of
their cauſes by their ſymptoms; and the adap-
tion of the remedy, not to the diſeaſe only,
with all its accidental complications, but to the
habits, age, ſex, and conftitution of the patient,
require ſuch ſkill as can reſult only from ex-
tenſive knowledge, found judgment, and criti-
cal inquiry.
IV. This ſkill cannot be exerted, if the patient is
not ſeen.
V. Groſs ignorance of the propriety of language,
in a man who pretends to have ſtudied phyfic, is
an inconteſtible proof of infolence and ſtupidity.
VI. He, therefore, who does not ſee the abſurdity
of profeſſing to cure incurable diſeaſes, cannot
poſſibly have acquired fufficient knowledge to
cure any
VII. To detect a man in deliberately writing and
publiſhing groſs nonſenſe, in an advertiſement of
his
)
I 2
196
.
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXVII.
his medical ſkill, written in his native language,
is to arreſt “ the foe of mankind in his walk,"
and to intercept the " arrow that flies in dark-
66 neſs."
This talk is at preſent left to the Adventurer; and
this taſk he will continue to perform, till the Legiſla-
ture ſhall take it out of his hands.
No. XXVIII. Saturday, February 10. 1753.
Cælo ſupinas fi tuleris manus
Naſcente Luna, ruſtica Phidyle ;
Nec peiilentem fentiet Africum
Fæecunda vitis
HOR
If ruſtic Phidyle her prayer renews,
Her artleſs prayer when ſacred hours return,
Her vines ſhall droop beneath no blighting dews,
Nor fouthern ſtorms her yellow harveſt burn.
That mankind have any natural propenſity to ill, or
that their minds are ſubject to the influence of any in-
viſible and malevolent being, are notions that of late
have been treated with the utmoſt contempt and dif-
dain. And yet I have remarked, that men frequently
neglect to practiſe thoſe duties of religion, without
which they believe the Divine Favour cannot be fecu-
red,
No. XXVIII.
197
THE ADVENTURER.
red, though by ſuch neglect they do not obtain any im-
mediate advantage.
The miſerable wretches who ſwarm in the ſtreets of
this metropolis, covered with filth and rags, pining
with cold and hunger, and rotting with diſeaſes, will
be found to have a general belief, that by going to
church inen pleaſe God, and obtain the pardon of their
fins; and yet thoſe who expect to be relieved by the
congregation, will linger at the church door till the
ſervice is at an end. In this inſtance, ſurely, they be-
come, in their own opinion, the ſervants of fin, for no
other wages than death. To the rich, irreligion, as
well as vice, ſometimes offers immediate pleaſure; and
it is eaſy to conceive, why they ſhould rather fink in a
luxurious ſlumber on a bed of down, than kneel at the
altar; but why does the beggar, in the ſeverity of win.
ter, ſhiver at the porch, when he might take ſhelter in
the aiſle? If he was as near to any other building
which he could as eaſily enter, he would not heſitate a
moment; but rather than become a candidate for the
bleiling of God, he will forego the advantage of ex-
citing the charity of the devout, by an appearance of
devotion.
Of the duties and the privileges of religion, prayer
is generally acknowledged to be the chief: and yet I
am afraid, that there are few who will not be able to
recollect ſome ſeaſons, in which their unwillingneſs to
pray has been more than in proportion to the labour
and the time that it required ; ſeaſons in which they
would have been leſs willing to repeat a prayer than
any other compoſition ; and rather than have ſpent five
milies in an addreſs to God, would have devoted au
equal
I 3
198
No. XXVIII.
THE ADVENTURIR.
iny
equal ſpace of time wholly to the convenience of an-
other, without any enjoyment or advantage to them-
felves.
Theſe facts, I believe, will ſcarce be controverted
by any; and thoſe who cannot ſhew that they have
adequate natural cauſes, muſt allow that they have
fome other. It alſo muſt be acknowledged, that if
men are tempted to neglect the worſhip of God by
any ſpiritual enemy, to worſhip God is by ſuch an ene-
knovin to be their intereſt: but becauſe I would
not reſt much upon this argument in favour of reli-
gion, I fhall only ſay, that it has more force than any
that I have heard againſt it.
I believe, indeed, there are ſome who, with what-
ever reluctance, punctually conform to the rituals of
religion, as an atonement for an allowed and perpetual
neglect of virtuc; who dream, that by going to church
on Sunday, they balance the account of the week, and
may again lie, defraud, ſwear, and be drunken with
impunity. Theſe wreiches, although in ſpite of indig.
nation they move my pity, I ſhall not here reprove,
becauſe their conduét does not only imply the grofleft
ignorance, but the moſt deplorable ftupidity; and it is
hopeleſs to write for thoſe, of whom it cannot be ex-
pecied that they ſhould read.
There are others, who, believing that neither virtue
nor religion alone is ſufficient to ſecure immortality,
neglect Religion as uſeleſs, becauſe they cannot refolve
to practiſe Virtue : fo the purchaſe of a teleſcope would
be a ſuperiluous expence to a man that is blind, though
all the advantages of fight cannot be obtained without
it by thoſe who can fee.
Upon
No. XXVIII.
199
THE ADVENTURER.
Upon theſe ſlaves of ſenſuality, it is to be feared
little effect can be produced, by an addreſs either to
their reaſon or their paſſions : for their reaſon is already
convinced, and their paſſions alarmed; they live in a
perpetual violation of the dictates of conſcience; pur-
poſes of amendment are every inoment formed and
broken; they look backward with remorſe, and for-
ward with terror; and they accumulate guilt, eren
while they are anticipating judgment. Nor can I preſs
them to put on an appearance of religion for inerc
temporary purpoſes ; not only becauſe it would be an
aggravation of their wickedneſs, but becauſe it would
conceal their true character, and might, therefore, in-
jure ſociety.
A man who apparently lives without religion, de-
clares to the world, that he is without virtue, however
he may otherwiſe conceal his vices : for when the ob-
ſtacles to virtue are ſurmounted, the obſtacles to reli-
gion are few. What ſhould reſtrain him who has
broken the bonds of appetite, from riſing at the call of
devotion? Will not he who has accompliſhed a work
of difficulty, fecure his reward at all events, when to
ſecure it is eaſy? Will not be that lias panted in the
race ſtretch forth his hand to receive the prize !
It may, perhaps, be expected, that, from this general
cenſure, I ſhould except those, who believe that all re-
ligion is the contrivance of tyranny and cunning; and
that every human action which has Deity for its ob-
ject, is enthuſiaſtic and abſurd. But of theſe there are
few, who do not give other evidence of their want of
virtue, than their neglect of religion; and even of this
few it muſt be acknowledged, that they have not equal
motives to virtue, and therefore to ſay, that they have
It
rot.
200
No. XXVIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
not equal virtue, is only to affirm that effects are pro-
portionate to their cauſes; a propoſition which, I am
confident, no philoſopher will deny.
By theſe motives, I do not mean merely the hope
and fear of future reward and puniſhment ; but fuch as
ariſe.froin the exerciſe of religious duties, both in public
and private, and eſpecially of prayer.
I know, that concerning the operation and effects of
prayer, there has been much doubtful diſputation, in
which innumerable metaphyſical ſubtilties have been
introduced, and the underſtanding has been bewildered
in fophiftry, and affronted with jargon : Thoſe who
have no other proofs of the fitneſs and advantage of
prayer than are to be found among theſe ſpeculations,
are but little acquainted with the practice.
He who has acquired an experimenial knowledge of
this duty, knows that nothing fo forcibly reſtrains from
ill, as the remembrance of a recent addreſs to Heaven
for protection and alliſtance. After having petitioned
for power to refift temptation, there is ſo great an in
congruity in not continuing the ſtruggle, that we bluſh
at the thouglit: and perſevere, left we loſe all reverence
for ourſelves. After fervently devoting our ſouls to
God, we flart with horror at immediate apoſtacy :
Every act of deliberate wickedneſs is then complicated
with hypocrily and ingratitude: it is a mockery of the
Father of Mercy; forſeiture of that peace in which we
cloſed our addreſs and a renunciation of the hope that it
nſpired.
For a proof of this, let every man ak himſelf, as in
the preſence of “ Him who ſearches the heart,” whe-
ther he has never been deterred from prayer, by his
fondneſs for ſome criminal gratification, which he could
not
No. XXVIII.
20.1
THE ADVENTURER.
66 Him by
ot with fincerity profeſs to give up, and which he
knew he could not afterwards repeat without greater
compunction. If prayer and immorality appear to be
thus incompatible, prayer ihould not ſurely be lightly
rejected by thoſe, who contend that moral virtue is the
ſummit of human perfection : nor ſhould it be incum-
bered with ſuch circumſtances, as muft inevitably render
it leſs eaſy and leſs frequent. It ſhould be conſidered as
the wings of the foul, and ſhould be always ready, when
a ſudden impulſe prompts her, to ſpring up to God
We Mould not think it always neceſſary to be either in
a church or in our cloſet, to espreſs joy, love, deſire,
truſt, reverence, or complacency, in the fervour of a
filent ejaculation. Adoration, hope, and even a peti-
tion, may be conceived in a moinent; and the deſire of
the heart may aſcend, without words, to
" whom our thoughts are known afar off.” He who
confiders himſelf as perpetually in the preſence of the
Almighty, need not fear that gratitude or homage can
ever be ill-timed, or that it is prophane thus to wore
fhip in any circumſtances that are not criminal.
There is no preſervative from vice, equal to this ha-
bitual and conſtant intercourſe with God; neither does
any thing equally alleviate diſtreſs, or heighten proſper
rity : in diſtreſs, it ſuſtains us with hope ; and in pro-
ſperity, it adds to every other enjoyment the delight
of gratitude.
Let thoſe, therefore, who have rejected religion, as
they have given up inconteftible advantages, try whe-
ther they cannot yet be recovered ; let them review
the arguments, by which their judgment has been de-
termined, and ſee whether they compel the affent' of
reaſon; and let thoſe, who, upon this recollection, per-
IS
ceive,
202
No. XXVIII
THE ADVENTURIR.
ceive, that, though they have profeſſed infidelity, they
do indeed believe and tremble, no longer ſacrifice hap-
pineſs to folly, but purſue that wiſdom “ whoſe ways
are pleaſantneſs and peace.”
No. XXIX. Tueſday, February 13. 1753.
Damnofa fenem juvat alea, ludi er hæres.
Juv.
If gaming does an aged fire entice,
Then my young maſter ſwiftly learns the vice,
And ſhakes, in hanging ſleeves, the little box
and dice.
DRYDEN,
To the Adventurer,
SIR,
It is a remark of ſome philoſophers, that there is a
malignity in human nature, which urges every man to
depreſs him who is already ſinking. The Gameſter is
a characier, at which the artillery of the legiſlature
has been long levelled: the practice of his profeffion
has been rendered extremely difficult, and the inſtru-
ments of it have been deſtroyed wherever they could
be found; he has been perfecuted by Juſtices, Confta-
bles,
No. XXIX.
203
THE ADVENTURER..
bles, and Watchmen; he has languiſhed in Newgate,
and toiled in Bridewell. Under this accumulated di-
ſtreſs, he is not the object of pity, but contempt; every
mouth is open againſt him; he is curſed by the me-
chanic and the trader, derided by wits, and looted by
the mob. In defence of this injured character, which
I have long borne, and of which I am not yet aſhamed,
permit me to appear in your paper.
In the firſt place, Sir, the Gameſter is a gentleman :
and though he has been inſulted by beggars and cits,
the polite world is ſtill in his intereſt; and he has ſtill
friends at Weituninſter, from the grey-headed General
to the beardleſs Serator. With the character of a gen-
tleman, there is but one vice which is now believed to
be wholly incompatible; and ſuch is the malice of our
enemies, that we have been degraded by the imputation.
of it, and our ruling paſſion is faid to be avarice.
But, can he be avaricious, who truſts his whole pro-
perty to chance? who immediately circulates what he
wins, with a liberality that has been cenſured by others
as profuſion? Can avarice be his motive to play, who,
with twenty thouſand pounds in the funds, lits down
with a man whoſe whole eltate he knows to be in his
pocket, and to amount to no more than ten pieces ? :
As the love of money appears inconteitibly not to go-
vern one of thoſe perſons, it cannot be proved to go..
vern the other: The charge of avarice is, indeed, ſo
ridiculous and abſurd, that I am alhamed of an attempt:
to confute it.
This charge might with great julice be retorted u-
pon trade, which, when put in competition with ga-
ming, muſt appear to great diſadvantage. Trade has
beſides introduced all the ſuperfluities that have ener-
16
vated
204
No. XXIX.
THE ADVENTURER.
vated and corrupted mankind. Trade has even pro-
duced oppoſite evils; it has pampered luxury, and wea-
ried labour; but gaming has done neither.
Trade, indeed, circulates property ; but property
might with greater advantage be circulated by gaming.
If it be aſked, how the perſons employed in this de-
lightful circulation of property, are to be furniſhed
with the neceſſaries of life, when trade is at an end ? I
anſwer, that the neceffaries of life, in the eſtimation of
virtue and the gameſter, are few; a ſheepſkin, a hovel,
and a dice-box, would furniſh the gameſter with
fuíficient apparel, ſhelter, and entertainment; and
with theſe he would be as happy as he is now; for
he has no power of acquiring happineſs that is not
eserted in play; and of other happineſs he has indeed
no conception.
If play was then univerſally purſued, as at once com-
prehending all buſineſs and all pleaſure, one man might
not only grow rich, and another poor, but the fame
pe:-
ſon might alternately paſs through all the viciſſitudes
of fortune, while he fat upon the ground in the fun,
without toiling in the manufactory, or ſweating at the
forge, without the perplexity of accounts, or the pe-
rils of a voyage..
If it be again aked when life is reduced to this ſtate
of primitive fimplicity, what would be the advantage
of wealth? I anſwer, the ſame as it is at preſent to thoſe
who poſſeſs more than they ſpend, a conſciouſneſs that
they are wealthy; and thoſe who are capable of more
exalted felicity, would enjoy in the acquiſition the
tranſport of winning, without conſidering money to
have any power, quality or uſe, but as a ſtake.
Theſe,
No. XXIX.
2005
THE ADVENTURER.
Theſe, indeed, are Utopian ſcenes; and I return,
with a figh, to vindicate my profeſſion from other im-
putations, which are equally falſe and injurious
It has been ſaid, that we are ſtrangers to reciprocal
felicity; and that the happineſs of one gameſter is pro-
duced by the miſery of another, the pain of him who
loſes being always proportioned to the pleaſure of the
winner. But this is only the cavil of popular preju-
dice: If I am happy, what is it to me who elſe is mi-
ſerable ? Every man, whatever he may pretend, is con-
cerned only for him?elf; and might, conſiſtent with
right reaſon, cut any other man's throat if he could
eſcape puniſhment, and ſecure to himſelf any advantage
by the fact. If any of your readers have ſtill ſcruples,
and deſire to ſee this doctrine farther illuſtrated, I re-
fer them to this great Dr. Mandeville's Fable of the
Bees.
Among other enemies, that have been encouraged
to fall. upon the Gameſter in his diſtreſs, is bigotry or
religion : for I confider both theſe terms as expreſſions
of the ſame idea. Bigotry then accules us with exer-
ciſing cur employment on a Sunday; but this accuſa-
tion is the effect of ſuch complicated folly, ignorance,
and malice, that it could have had no other author.
Not to inſiſt that a gentleman is under 10 moral ob-
ligation to regard C..2 day more than another, is he to
be inſulted for doing that, which has a direct tendency
to deltroy luxury root and branch, on a Sunday ? Shall
virtue, in this enlightened age, be given up to ceremo-
ny? and patriotiſm be ftigmatized as impiety? I have,
on every other article, been able to keep my temper ;
but I can never bear the cant of bigotry with patience.
There
306
No. XXIX
THE ADVENTURER.
There is, however, another charge, which I ſhall
not obviate as an imputation of prophaneneſs, but of
folly. It is ſaid that we utter the moſt horrid oaths
and imprecations; that we invocate beings whom we
do not believe to exiſt, and denounce curſes that can.
never be fulfilled., This has, indeed, been practiſed in
our aſſemblies; but by thoſe only who are novices in
the profeſſion : for among other advantages that ariſe
from gaming, is fuch a filent acquiefcence in the will
of fortune, as would do honour to a ſtoic ; or, at leaſt,
a calm philofophical immutability of countenance, by
which all that paſſes in the bofom is concealed.
This acquiſition, it muſt be confeſſed, requires ſome
parts, and long practice; but there have been many il-
luſtrious examples of it among us. A gentleman, my
particular friend, who had the honour to be many years
an eminent gamefter, being without money, committed
a robbery upon the highway, to procure another ſtake,
that he might return to his profeſſion: It happened
unfortunately that he was taken ; and though he had
great intereſt with ſome perſons that ſhall be nameleſs,
yet he was convicted and hanged. This gentleman's
ill luck continued all the while he was in gaol; ſo that
he was compelled to diſpoſe of his body to the ſur-
geons, and loſt the money to a friend who viſited him
in the cells, the night before execution. He appeared,
however, next morning with great compoſure; no re-
flection on the paſt, no anticipation of the future,
cauſed him once to change countenance during his paſ-
ſage to the gallows; and though he was about to re-
ceive death from a greaſy ſcoundrel, whom he knew
once to have been a butcher, yet he ſwore but two
oaths in the cart ; and was ſo indifferent as to what
dould
No. XXIX.
207
THE ADVENTURER.
ſhould afterwards befal him, that he bravely refuſed
to fay Amen to the prayers.
If by your communication of theſe hints, the cla-
mours of flander ſhall be filenced, and the true charac-
ter of a gameſter ſhall be more generally known;-I
have ſecrets, which may be communicated entre nous,
--and the next dead.fet--you underſtand mem. I am a
man of honour, and you may command,
SIR, Yours, &c.
TIM. COGDIE,
No. XXX. Saturday, February 17. 1753.
Felices ter et amplius
Piros irrunta tenet copula : nec malis
Divulfus querimoniis
Suprema citius folvet amor die
HOR:
Thrice happy they, in pure delights
Whom Love with mutual bonds unites;
Unbroken by complaints or ftrife,
And binding each to each for life.
FRANCIS.
THOUGH I devote this lucubration to the ladies, yet
there are ſome parts of it which I hope will not be
wholly uſeleſs to the gentlemen : and, perhaps, both
ilay
208
No. XXX.
THE ADVENTURER.
may expect to be addreſſed upon a ſubject, which to
both is of equal importance ; eſpecially after I have ad-
mitted the public recommendation of it by my correl
pondent Mr. Townly.
It has been univerſally allowed, and with great rea-
fon, that between perſons who marry, there ſhould be
fome degree of equality, with reſpect to age and con-
dition. Thoſe who violate a known truth, deſerve the
infelicity they incur: I ſhall, therefore, only labour to
preſerve innocence by detecting error.
With the ladies, it is a kind of general maxim, that
" the beſt huſband is a reformed rake;" a maxiin
which they have probably derived from comedies and
novels, in which ſuch a huſband is commonly the re-
ward of female merit. But the belief of this maxiin is
an inconteftible proof, that with the true character of a
rake, the ladies are wholly unacquainted. “They
“ have,” indeed, “ heard of a wild young gentleman,
" who would rake about the town, and take up his
lodging at a bagnio ; who had told many a girl a
pretty ſtory, that was fool enough to believe him ;
ss and had a right to many a child that did not call him
“ father: but that in ſome of theſe frolics he thought
no harm, and for others he had ſufficiently ſuffered.”
But let the Adventurer be believed, thoſe are words
of dreadful import, and ſhould always be thus under-
ſtood:
" To rake about the town and lodge at a bagnio, is
to aſſociate with the vileſt and nioſt abandoned of
“ human beings; it is to become familiar with blaſphe-
my and lewdneſs, and frequently to ſport with the
“ moſt deplorable miſery : To tell pretty ſtories to
credulous girls, is to deceive the fimplicity of innor
cence
No. XXX.
209
THE ADVENTURER.
22
cence by cunning and falſehood : To be the father
" of a nameleſs progeny, is to deſert thoſe, whoſe tears
only can implore the protection, to which of all
“ others they have the ſtrongeſt and the tendereſt
claim; it is more than to be a man without affection,
" it is to be a brute without inftinét. To think no harm
" in ſomne of theſe frolics, is to have worn out all fenfi-
bility of the difference between right and wrong;
" and to have ſuffered for others, is to have a body con-
" taminated with diſeaſes, which in fome degree are
“ certainly tranſmitted to poſterity.”
It is to be hoped that the mere exhibition of this
picture, will be ſufficient to deter the ladies frein
precluding happineſs by marrying the original, and
from diſcouraging virtue, by making vice necefiary to
the character which they prefer.
But they frequently act upon another principle,
which though not equally fatal and abſurd, inay yet
produce great infelicity.
When the rake is excluded, it will be generally ſup-
poſed, that ſuperior intellectual abilities ought always
to determine the choice. “ A man of fine ſenfe," is
indeed a character of great dignity; and the ladies
have always been adviſed to prefer this to every other,
as it includes a capacity to beſtow “ that refined, ex-
alted, and permanent felicity, which alone is wor-
thy of a rational being." But I think it probable,
that this advice, however ſpecious, has been often given
for ro other reaſon, than becauſe to give it, flattered
the vanity of the writer, who fondly believed he was
drawing his own character, and exciting the envy and
admiration of his readers. This advice, however, the
ladies univerſally affect to approve, and probably for a
fimilar
66
210
No. XXX.
THE ADVENTURER
fimilar reaſon; fince every one imagines, that to hold
intellectual excellence in high eſtimation, is to demon-
ſtrate that ſhe pofleffes it.
As he that would perſuade, ſhould be fcrupulouſly
careful not to offend, I will not inſinuate that there
are any ladies, by whóin the peculiar beauties of an ex-
alted underſtanding cannot be diſcerned, and who have
not, therefore, a capacity for half the pleaſure which
it can beſtow. And yet, I think, there is another ex-
cellence which is much more eiſential to conjugal feli-
city good-nature.
I know that good-nature has, like Socrates, been ri-
diculed in the habit of folly; and that folly has been
dignified by the name of good-nature. But by good-
nature, I do not mean that flexible imbecility of mind
which complies with every requeſt, and inclines a man
at once to accompany an acquaintance to a brothel at
the expence of his health, and to keep an equipage for
a wife at the expence of his eſtate. Perſons of this
diſpoſition have ſeldom more benevolence than forti-
tude, and frequently perpetrate deliberate cruelty.
In true good-nature, there is neither the acrimony of
ſpleen, nor the fullenneſs of inalice; it is neither cla-
morous nor fretful, neither eaſy to be offended, nor im-
patient to revenge; it is a tender ſenſibility, a partici-
pation of the pains and pleaſures of others; and is
therefore, a forcible and conſtant motive, to communi-
cate happineſs, and alleviate miſery.
As human nature is, from whatever cauſe, in a ſtate
of great imperfection, it is ſurely to be deſired, that a
fer'on whom it is moſt our intereſt to pleaſe, ſhould
not ſee more of this imperfection, than we do ourſelves.
I fhall,
No. XXX,
THE ADVEN
LII
ADVENTURER.
I
66
I ſhall, perhaps, be told, that a man of ſenſe can
never uſe a woman ill.” The latter part of this pro-
poſition is a phraſe of very extenſive and various fignifi-
cation : whether a man of ſenſe can“ uſe a woman ill,"
I will not inquire, but I ſhall endeavour to thew,
that he may make her extremely wretched.
Perſons of keen penetration, and great delicacy of
ſentiment, as they muſt neceſſarily be more frequently,
offended than pthers ; ſo, as a puniſhment for the of-
fenfe, they can inflict more exquiſite pain, becauſe they
can wound with more poignant reproach : and by him
whom good nature does not reſtrain from retaliating
the pain that he feels, the offence, whether voluntary
or not, will always be thus puniſhed.
If this puniſhment is ſuffered with filence, confuſion
and tears, it is pofiible that the tyrant may relent; but
this, like the remorfe of a murderer, is too late ; the
dread of incurring the ſame anguiſh by a like fault,
will ſubſtitute for the ſmile of cheerfulneſs, that ſun-
ſhine of beauty, the glooms of doubt, folicitude, and
anxiety. The offence will, notwitbitanding, be again
repeated; the puniſhment, the diſtreſs, and the re-
morſe will again return; becauſe error is involuntary,
and anger is not reſtrained. If the reproach is retort .
ed, and whether it was deſerved, becomes the ſubject
of debate; the conſequences are yet more dreadful :
after a vain attempt to ſhew an incongruity, which can
no more be perceived than founds by the deaf, the huf-
band will be infulted for cauſeleſs and capricious dif-
pleaſure, and the wife for folly, perverſeneſs, and ob-
ſtinacy. In theſe circumſances, what will become of
" the refined, the exalted, and the permanent felicity,
" which alone is worthy of reaſonable beings, and
which elevated genius can below?"
That
212
No. XXX.
THE ADVENTURER.
That this conduct is, by a man of ſenſe, known to be
wrong, I am content to allow. but it muſt alſo be
granted, that the diſcernment of wrong is not always
a propenſity to riyht; and that if pain was never in-
ficted, but when it was known to produce falutary ef-
fects, inankind would be much more happy than they
are.
Good-nature, therefore, if intellectual excellence
cannot atone for the want of it, muſt be admitted as
the highelt perſonal merit. If, without it, Wiſdom is
not kind; without it, Folly muſt be brutal. Let it,
therefore, be once more repeated, “ The quality moſt
“ eſſential to conjugal felicity, is good-nature.” And,
ſurely, whatever accidental difference there may hap-
pen to be in the conceptions or judgment of a huſband
and wife, if neither can give pain or pleaſure without
feeling it themſelves, it is eaſy to perceive which fen-
fation they will concur to produce.
It may now be expected that I ſhould give ſome ge-
neral rules, by which the ladies inay diſcover the diſ-
poſition of thoſe, by whom they are addreſſed : but it
is extremely difficult to detect malevolence amidſt the
alliduities of courtſhip, and to diſtinguiſh the man un-
der that almoſt inſcrutable diſguiſe, the Lover. Good-
mature, however, is not indicated by the fulſome fawn-
ing of a perpetual grin, the loud laughter which al-
moſt anticipates the jeſt, or the conſtant echo of every
ſentiment ; neither is it ſafe to truſt the appeaiance of
profuſe liberality, or bufy officiouſneſs. Let it rather
be remarked, how the Lover is affected by incidents,
in which the lady is not concerned; what is his beha-
viour to his immediate dependants, and whether they
approach him with a flaviſh timidity, or with the
cheerful
No. XXX.
213
THE ADVENTURER.
cheerful reverence of voluntary ſervitude. Is he ever
merry at the expence of another, or does he ever at-
tempt thus to excite mirth in his miſtreſs? Does he
mention the abſent with candor, and behave to thoſe
who are preſent with a manly complacency? By a di-
ligent attendance to theſe circumſtances perhaps a pro-
bable judgment may be formed of his character.
To conclude with a general remark, good-nature is
not of leſs importance to ourſelves than to others. The
moroſe and petulant firſt feel the anguiſh that they
give : Reproach, revilings, and invective, are but the
overflowings of their own infelicity, and are conſtant-
ly again forced back upon their ſource. Sweetneſs of
temper is not, indeed, an acquired, but a natural excel-
lence; and, therefore, to recommend it to thoſe who have
it not, may be deemed rather an inſult than advice. But
let that which in happier natures is inſtinct, in theſe be
reafon ; let them purſue the fame conduct, impelled by
a nobler motive. As the fourneſs of the crab inhances
the value of the graft, ſo that which on its parent plant
is good-nature, will, on a leſs kindly ſtock be improved
into virtue. No action by which others receive plea-
fure or pain, is indifferent: the ſacred rule, “ Do that
to others which ye would that others ſhould do to
you," extends to every deed; and “
“ ſhall be brought into judgment."
66
every word
97
No,
214
No. XXXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXXI. Tueſday, February 20. 1753.
Invidiâ Siculi non invenere Tyranni
Majus tormentum
Hor.
Nor could Sicilia's tyrants ever find
A greater torment than an envious mind.
FRANCIS.
Soon after the expiration of that golden age, in which
perpetual and ſpontaneous plenty precluded all tempta-
tion to violence and fraud, Apollo, the god of wiſdom,
of eloquence, and muſic, became enamoured of one of
the nymphs who graced the train of Diana. The
nymph, whoſe name time has not preſerved with her
ſtory, was at firſt inflexible ; but the ſuit which her
chaſtity refuſed, her vanity ſtill continued to permit:
and thus, though wiſdom, eloquence, and muſic, were
ineffectual ; yet perſeverance prevailed. The pride of
virtue was imperceptibly foftened; and the ſenſe of
guilt had been fo often loſt in the anticipation of de-
light, that it did not always return : to this delight
there remained no obſtacle but the fear of ſhame; and
the fear of ſhame, as deſire perpetually increaſed, was
at laſt ſurmonnted.
Apollo perceived and purſued his advantage , and
the nymph filently conſented to an aſſignation; the
place
No. XXXI.
215
THE ADVENTURER,
place was a grotto far fequeſtered from the path of
the traveller, and the time was midnight.
When nature no longer laviſhed her bounty upon
idleneſs, and the fruits of the earth were beſtowed only
upon labour ; when the harveſt and the vintage ceaſed
to be common, and the bounds of property were ſet
up; many vices under human forms became inhabi-
tants of the earth, and aſſociated with mankind. Of
fome the external appearance was pleaſing, and their.
qualities were not immediately diſcovered. Among
theſe vices was Envy: Envy, indeed, was never love-
ly; but ſhe was then young, nor was the malignity of
her mind yet expreſſed in her perſon.
As Apollo was enamoured of the nymph, Envy was
enamoured of Apollo : ſhe watched his deſcent, there-
fore, with all the impatience of defire; and though the
knew her own paſſion to be hopeleſs, yet the diſcovery
of his addreſſes to another, diſtracted her with jea-
louſy: ſhe was always buſied to procure intelligence
which could only increaſe her torment; and was per-
petually contemplating the happineſs which ſhe def-
paired to enjoy.
It happened that the affignation of the lovers was
overheard by Echo, and by Echo repeated to Envy.
This intelligence rouzed her to a yet keener ſenſibility
of miſery : to intercept the happineſs of a rival, was
the firſt object of her wiſh ; and the next moment ſhe
conceived a deſign of ſecuring that happineſs to herſelf.
To effect both theſe purpoſes, a thouſand projects had
been by turns contrived, examined, and rejected; her
mind was more violently agitated, in proportion, as
the time drew more near: and after all the toil of
thinking had ended in deſpair, an expedient ſuddenly
ſtarted
3
216
No. XXXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
fiarted into her mind, which the perceived at once to
be fimple and eaſy; ſhe wondered how it had been be-
fore over-looked, and reſolved immediately to put it
in execution,
It was within one hour of midnight, when the
nymph took her way to the grotto.
She was now
pale with remorſe, and now fluſhed with ſhame; the
heſitated; her bofom again beat with anticipated de-
light; ſhe trembled, and went forward. Envy per-
ceived her at a diſtance; and caſt round her a thick
cloud, which ſcarce the beams of Phoebus himſelf could
have diſſipated. The nymph looked round for the
grotto, but ſuddenly perceived herſelf to be involved
in impenetrable darkneſs; ſhe could diſcover neither
the ſky above her, nor the ground on which ſhe ſtood :
ſhe ſtopt ſhort, terrified and aſtoniſhed ; deſire was chil-
led in her veins, and ſhe ſhuddered at the temerity of
the purpoſe.
In this dreadful moment ſhe had no hope of deliver-
ance, but from the power whoſe laws ſhe had been
about to violate; and the, therefore, addreſſed this
prayer to Diana : “Chafte queen of irreproachable de-
" light! who, though my mind had renounced thy in-
“ fluence, haſt yet by this omen preſerved me from
“ corporal diſhonour; O! guide me in ſafety through
" the terrors of this guilty night : let me once more
" be permitted to purſue the chace at thy fide ; and
" to mingle with the happy virgins, whom cheerful-
“ neſs, the daughter of innocence, aſſembles at thy
power !". As ſhe uttered this prayer, ſhe haſtily
turned about; and the moment ſhe made an effort to
go back, her prayer was granted; the gloom that ſur-
rounded her was diſipated; and the again perceived
the
No. XXXI.
2117
.
THE ADVENTURER,
the mild radiance of her queen tremble upon the foli-
age of the trees, and checker the path before her with
a ſilver light. She now ſprang forward, impelled by
that joy which her deliverance had inſpired : her ſpeed
was no longer reſtrained by the timidity of guilt ; the
ſolitary way was repaſſed in a moment; and her de-
fire to return had been ſo ardent that ſhe could ſcarce
believe it to be accompliſhed.
In the mean time, Envy had entered the grotto, and
was expecting Apollo: ſhe heard him approach with a
tumult of paffions, in which pain was predominant; and
ſhe received him in ſilence and confuſion, which other.
wife ſhe would have found it difficult to feign.
When the momentary tranſport which ſhe had thus
obtained, was at an end, ſhe perceived that it had been
too dearly purchaſed with ſafety: ſhe reflected upon
her ſituation with terror ; and wiſhed, too late that
the nymph, whoſe pleaſure ſhe had intercepted, had rem
ceived it in her ſtead, as it would have been more than
counterbalanced by a ſmall proportion of her pain : her
pain was not, however, produced by regretting the loſs
of innocence, but by anticipating the puniſhment of
guilt.
Apollo who knew not how wretched and malignant
a being he had claſped to his boſom, whiſpered a thou-
fand tender ſentiments, and urged her to reply. Envy
was ſtill filent; but knowing that ſhe could not in theſe
circumſtances continue long undetected, ſhe ſuddenly
collected all her forces, and ſprung from him, hoping
to have eſcaped unknown in the darkneſs of the night :
but juſt as the reached the entrance of the grotto, he
again caught her in his arms. Envy ſhrieked in the
anguiſh of deſpair ; and the god himſelf ſtarted back
VOL. I.
K
with
2:18
No. XXXI.
THE ADVENTURER.
with aſtoniſhment: he would not, however, quit his
hold of the 'fugitive; and Diana, that ſhe might not
loſe an opportunity to puniſh incontinence, darted her
rays directly upon the place. Apollo diſcovered the
features of Envy, and turned from her with abhorrence.
After a moment's recollection, looking again ſternly
upon her, “ Loathed and deteſted as thou art,” ſaid
he, “ I cannot deſtroy thee, for thou art immortal as
6. the felicity of heaven : and I wiſh not to deſtroy
" thee, for immortality is thy curſe. But may my
arms again embrace thee, and may thy boſom be
again preſſed to mine, if thy power thus to profane
“ the delights of love end not this moment for ever :
“ henceforth thy face ſhall be deformed with the cha-
“ racteriſtics of want and age, and ſnakes inſtead of
s hair ſhall be the covering of thy head: thy breaſts
" ſhall be lengthened to thy waiſt, and thy ſkin ſhall
66 be fuffuſed with gall." While he was yet ſpeaking,
the freſhneſs of youth faded from her cheeks; her eyes
ſunk inward ; her treffes, that flowed in looſe ringlets
upon her ſhoulders, were ſuddenly contracted; and
writhing themſelves in various contortions, a brood of
ſerpents hiſſed round her head; her fleſh became flac-
cid, her ſkin appeared ſhrivelled and yellow, and her
whole form expreffed at once malignity and wretched-
nefs.
Thus changed, ſhe fled from the preſence of Apollo :
but ſhe carried with her not a memorial of her crime
only, but of that pleaſure which her puniſhment had
rendered it impoſſible to repeat. A child, which ſhe
regarded as at once her glory and her frame, was at
length born, and afterwards known among mankind by
the name of Cunning.
Iu
No. XXXI.
219
THE ADVENTURER.
In Cunning, the qualities both of the father and the
mother, as far as they are copatible, are united. As
the progeny of Envy, he regards whatever is amiable
and good with malignity; the end that he propoſes,
therefore, is always the gratification of vice : but he
inherits fo much of his father's wiſdom, that he fre-
quently purſues that end by the moſt effectual means.
All, therefore, whom Wiſdom would diſdain to
counſel, apply to Cunning. But of the votaries to Cun-
ning, even thoſe who fucceed are diſappointed: they
do, indeed, frequently obtain the immediate object of
their wiſh ; but they are ſtill reſtleſs and unſatisfied ;
as the ſtateſman, after he has gratified his ambition,
{till fighs in vain for felicity.
K2
No.
220
No. XXXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXXII. Saturday February 24. 1753. .
Munde-parvo fub lare Pauperum
Cænæ, fine aulæis et oftro,
Solicitam explicuére frontem.
HOR.
To frugal treats and humble cells,
With grateful change the wealthy fly,
Where health-preſerving plainneſs dwells,
Far from the carpet's gaudy dye,
Such ſcenes have charm'd the pangs of
And ſmooth'd the clouded forehead of deſpair.
FRANCIS.
care,
Omar, the hermit of the mountain Aubukabis, which
riſes on the eaſt of Mecca, and overlooks the city, found
one evening a man ſitting penſive and alone, within a
few paces of his cell. Omar regarded him with atten-
tion, and perceived that his looks were wild and hag-
gard, and that his body was feeble and emaciated: the
man alſo ſeemed to gaze ſtedfaſtly on Omar ; but ſuch
was the abſtraction of his mind, that is eye did not im-
mediately take cognizance of its object. In the mo-
ment of recollection he ſtarted as from a dream, he co-
vered his face in confufion, and bowed himſelf to the
ground.“ Son of affliction.” ſaid Omar, “ who art
“ thou, and what is thy diſtreſs ?” “ My name," re-
plied the ſtranger, “ is Haſſan, and I am a native of
this
No. XXXII.
221
THE ADVENTURER
72
" this city; the angel of adverſity has laid his hand up-
on me : and the wretch whom thine eye compaſ-
" fionates, thou canſt not deliver." 66 To deliver
* thee,” ſaid Omar,“ belongs to him only, from whom
we ſhould receive with humility both good and evil;
yet hide not thy life from me ; for the burthen
66 which I cannot remove, I may at leaſt enable thee
" to ſuſtain." Haffan fixed his eyes upon the ground,
and remained ſome time filent; then fetching a deep
figh, he looked up at the hermit, and thus complied
with his requeſto-
It is now fix years, ſince our mighty lord the Caliph
Almalic, whoſe memory be bleſſed, firſt came privately
to worſhip in the temple of the holy city. The bleſ
fings which he petitioned of the Prophet, as the Pro-
phet's vicegerent, he was diligent to diſpenſe; in the
intervals of his devotion, therefore, he went about the
city, relieving diſtreſs, and reſtraining oppreſſion : the
widow ſmiled under his protection, and the weakneſs
of age and infancy was ſuſtained by his bounty. I,
who dreaded no evil but fickneſs, and expected no good:
beyond the reward of my labour, was ſinging at my
work, when Almalic entered my dwelling. He looked
pound with a ſmile of complacency; perceiving that
though it was mean it was neat, and that though I was
poor. I appeared to be content. As his habit was that
of a pilgrim, I haftened to receive him with ſuch ho-
{pitality as was in my power; and my cheerfulneſs was
rather increaſed than reſtrained by his preſence. After
he had accepted ſome coffee, he aſked me many quef-
tions; and though by my anſwers I always endea-
voured to excite him to mirth, yet I perceived that he
grew thoughtful, and eyed me with a placid but fixed
attention
II 3
222
No. XXXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
97
66
attention. I ſuſpected that he had ſome knowledge of
me, and therefore inquired his country and his name.
“ Haffan," ſaid he," I have raiſed thy curioſity, and
" it ſhall be ſatisfied; he who now talks with thee is
" Almalic, the fovereign of the faithful, whoſe feat is
is the throne of Medina, and whoſe commiſſion is from
“ above." Theſe words ftruck me dumb with aſto-
niſhment, though I had ſome doubt of their truth : but
Almalic, throwing back his garment, diſcovered the
peculiarity of his veft, and put the royal fignet upon his
finger. I then ſtarted up, and was about to proſtrate
myſelf before him, but he prevented me: “ Hafſan,"
ſaid he “ forbear; thou art greater than I, and from
66 thee I have at once derived humility and wiſdom.”
I anſwered, “ Mock not thy fervant, who is but as a
worm before thee: life and death are in thy hand,
" and happineſs and miſery are the daughters of thy
“ Haſſan," he replied, " I can no otherwiſe
give life or happineſs than by not taking them away:
" thou art thyſelf beyond the reach of my bounty, and
poffefſed of felicity which I can neither communi-
cate nor obtain. My influence over others, fills my
“ boſom with perpetual ſollicitude and anxiety; and
yet my influence over others extends only to their
6. vices, whether I would reward or puniſh. By the
" bow-ftring, I can repreſs violence and fraud; and by
". the delegation of power, I can transfer the inſatiable
“ wiſhes of avarice and ambition from one object to
« another ; but with reſpect to virtue, I am impotent :
“ if I could reward it, I would reward it in thee,
“ Thou art content, and haſt therefore neither avarice
nor ambition; to exalt thee, would deſtroy the fim-
of plicity of thy life, and diminiſh that happineſs which
“ I have
.66 will."
12
16
No. XXXII.
223
THE ADVENTURER.
9
* I have no power either to increaſe or to continue.**.
He then roſe up, and commanding me not to diſcloſe his
fecret, departed.
As ſoon as I recovered from the confuſion and afto-
niſhment in which the Caliph left me, I began to re-
gret that my behaviour had intercepted his bounty;
and accuſed that cheerfulneſs of folly, which was the
concomitant of poverty aud labour. I now repined at
the obſcurity of my ſtation, which my former infenfibi-
lity had perpetuated : I neglected my labour, becauſe
I deſpiſed the reward; I ſpent the day in idleneſs,
forming romantic projects to recover the advantages
which I had loft; and at night, inſtead of lofing myſelf
in that ſweet and refreſhing ſleep, from which I uſed to
rife with new health, cheerfulneſs, and vigour, I dreamt
of fplendid habits and a numerous retinue, of gardens,
palaces, eunuchs, and women, and waked only to regret
the illuſions that had vaniſhed. My health was at
length impaired by the inquietude of my mind ; I fold
all my moveables for ſubſiſtence : and reſerved only a
matraſs, upon which I fometimes lay from one night to
another.
In the firſt moon, of the following year, the Caliph
came again to Mecca, with the ſame ſecrecy, and for
the fame purpoſes. He was willing once more to ſee
the man, whom he conſidered as deriving felicity from
himſelf. But he found me, not finging at my work,
ruddy with health, and vivid with cheerfulneſs; but
pale and dejected, ſitting on the ground, and chewing
opium, which contributed to ſubſtitute the phantoms of
imagination for the realities of greatneſs. He entered
with a kind of joyful impatience in his countenance,
which, the moment he beheld me, was changed to a
mixture
KA
224
No. XXXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
mixture of wonder and pity. I had often wiſhed for
another opportunity to addreſs the Caliph; yet I was
confounded at his preſence, and throwing myſelf at his
feet, I laid my hand upon my head, and was ſpeech
lefs. “ Hafſan," ſaid he," what canft thou have loſt,
66 whoſe wealth was the labour of thy.awn hand ; andi
“ what can have made thee fad, the ſpring of whoſe
“joy was in thy own boſom? What evil hath befallen:
" thee? Speak, and if I can remove it, thou art hap-
py." I was now encouraged to look up, and I rea
plied, “Let my Lord forgive the preſumption of his
“ fervant, who rather than utter a falſehood would be
45 dumb for ever.
I am become wretched by the loſs,
56 of that which I never poffeffed : thou haft raiſed
86 wiſhes which indeed I am not worthy thou ſhouldſt.
se fatisfy : but why ſhould it be thought, that he who
was happy in obfcurity and indigence, would not
“ have been rendered more happy by eminence and
bulb wealth?"9
When I had finiſhed this ſpeech, Almalic ſtood fomo
moments in fufpenfe, and I continued proftrate before.
him. “Haflan," ſaid he, “ I perceive, not with indig-
“nation but regret, that I miſtook thy character; I
now diſcover avarice and ambition in thy heart,
« which lay torpid only becauſe their objects were too:
remote to rouze them. I cannot, therefore, inveſt
“ thee with authority, becauſe I would not ſubject my.
people to oppreſſion; aud becauſe I would not be
compelled to puniſh thee for crimes which I firſt en-
66 abled thee to commit. But as I have taken from
o thee that which I cannot reſtore, I will at leaſt gra-
“ tify the wiſhes that I excited, left thy heart accuſe
me of injuſtice, and thou continue ſtill a ſtranger to
66 thyſelf.
No. XXXII.
225
THE ADVENTURER.
“ thyſelf. Arife, therefore, and follow me." I ſprung
from the ground as it were with the wings of an eagle;
I kiſſed the hem of his garment in an extacy of grati-
tude and joy; and when I went out of my houſe, my
heart leaped as if I had eſcaped from the den of a lion.
I followed Almalic to the Caravanſera in which he
lodged; and after he had fulfilled his vows, he took
me with him to Medina. He gave me an apartment in
the Seraglio ; I was attended by his own ſervants; my
proviſions were ſent from his own table ; and I received
every week a fum from his treaſury, which exceeded
the moſt romantic of my expectations. But I ſoon diſ-
covered, that no dainty was ſo taſteful, as the food to
which labour procured an appetite; no flumbers fo
ſweet as thoſe which wearineſs invited ; and no time
ſo well enjoyed, as that in which diligence is expecting
its reward. I remembered th eſe enjoyments with re-
gret; and while I was fighing in the midſt of ſuper-
fluities, which though they encumbered life, yet I could
not give up, they were ſuddenly taken away,
Almalic, in the midſt of the glory of his kingdom,
and in the full vigour of his life, expired fuddenly in the
bath ; fuch, thou knoweft, was the deſtiny, which the
Almighty had written upon his head.
His fon Abubeker, who ſucceeded to the throne,
was ingenſed againſt me, by ſome who regarded me at
once with contempt and envy: he-fuddenly withdrew
my penfion, and commanded that I ſhould be expelled
the palace; a command, which my enemies executed
with ſo much rigour, that within twelve hours I found:
myſelf in the ſtreets of Medina, indigent and friendleſs,
expoſed to hunger and derifion, with all the habits of
Juxury, and all the ſenſibility of pride. O! let not thy-
heart
K 5.
226
No. XXXII.
THE ADVENTURER.
he,
heart deſpiſe me, thou whom experience has not taught,
that it is miſery to loſe that which it is not happineſs
to poſſeſs. O! that for me, this leſſon had not been
written on the tablets of Providence! I have travelled
from Medina to Mecca; but I cannot fly from myſelf.
How different are the ſtates in which I have been
placed! The remembrance of both is bitter; for the
pleaſure of neither can return. Haſſan, having thus
ended his ſtory, ſmote his hands together, and looking.
upward burſt into tears.
Omar, having waited till this agony was paſt, weni
to him, and taking him by the hand “ My ſon,” ſaid
more is yet in thy power than Almalic could
“ give, or Abubeker take away. The leſſon of thy life
" the Prophet has in mercy appointed me to explain..
" Thou waft onde content with poverty and labour,
" only becauſe they were become habitual, and eaſe
* and affluence were placed beyond thy hope ; for
66 when eaſe and affluence approached thee, thou waſt
content with poverty and labour no more. That
6 which then became the object was alſo the bound of
• thy hope ; and he, whoſe utmoſt hope is diſappointed,
" muſt inevitably be wretched. If thy ſupreme deſire
“ had been the delights of Paradiſe, and thou hadſt
• believed that by the tenor of thy life theſe delights
“ had been ſecured, as more could not have been given
thee, thou wouldſt not have regretted that leſs was
not offered. The content which was once enjoyed
“ was but the lethargy of the ſoul; and the diſtreſs
“ which is now ſuffered, will but quicken it to action
", Depart, therefore, and be thankful for all things :
put thy truſt in Him, who alone can gratify the wiſh
af
No. XXXII.
227
THE ADVENTURER,
ss of reaſon, and ſatisfy the ſoul with good : fix thy
“ hope upon that portion, in compariſon of which the
“ world is as the drop of the bucket, and the duſt of
" the balance. Return, my ſon, to thy labour ; thy
“ food ſhall be again taſteful, and thy reſt ſhall be
“ ſweet: to thy content alſo will be added ſtability,
“ when it depends not upon that which is poffeffed
upon earth, but upon that which is expected in:
66 Heaven."
Haſſan, upon whoſe mind the Angel of inſtruction
impreffed the counſel of Omar, haftened to proſtrate
himſelf in the temple of the Prophet. Peace dawned
upon his mind like the radiance of the morning: he
returned to his labour with cheerfulneſs; his devotion
became fervent and habitual: and the latter days of
Haſſan were happier than the firſt.
K 6
No.
.:
-
-
228
No. XXXIIT
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXXIII. Tueſday, February 27. 1753.
-Latet anguis in herba.
Virg.
Within the graſs conceal'd a ſerpent lies.
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
As the view of public undertakings ſhould be the pub.
lic good, no foible that is prejudicial to fociety can be
too triling to be animadverted upon. I ſhall, there.
fore, without any farther apology, lay before you one
of the greateſt impediments to the pleaſure of conver-
fation, an artful manner of conveying keen reproaches
and harſh ſatircs, under the diſguiſe of diſcourſing on
general ſubjects, which ſeem quite foreign to any thing
that may concern the company. Thus, inſtead of en-
deavouring to entertain each other with cheerful good-
humour, moſt converſations are carried on, as Hudi.
bras ſays,
“ With words, far bitterer than wormwood,
*6 That would in Job or Grizzel ſtir mood.”
It is an old and a juſt obſervation, that no ſituation
can well be leſs entertaining, than that of a third per-
ſon to lovers : yet while decency is preſerved, which
is
No. XXXIII.
220
THE ADVENTURER.-
is generally the caſe before marriage, and by fenfible
well-bred people afterwards, even in this ſituation,
the mind that is ſtored with any images of its own, may
amuſe itſelf;: and the leart that is fraught with any
good-nature, may find ſome fatisfaction in conſidering
the pleaſure which the fond lovers enjoy in the com.
pany of each other. But' from the uneaſineſs of being
a third perſon to Quarrellers, there is no relief: your
own thoughts are broke in upon by the jarring diſcord.
of your companions; and they will neither contribute
to your entertainment, nor even fuffer you to retain the
tranquillity of your own boſom.
Amongſt the vulgar, where the men vent their pare
fions by ſwearing, and the women by ſcolding or cry-
ing, their quarrels are generally foon made up, nor
does any danger remain after reconciliation. But in
higher life, where ſuch efforts are reſtrained by good-
breeding, and where people have learned to diſguiſe,
not to ſubdue their paſſions, an inveterate rancour often
lies corroding in the breaſt, and generally: produces all
the effects of inexorable malice..
People conſider. not, that by family repartees and
oblique reflections on each ſide, the very inmoſt ſecrets
of their lives are diſcloſed to their common acquaintance;
and that they oftentimes inconfiderately lay open to
their worſt enemies, faults and imperfections in them-
felves and their relations, which they would take pains.
to conceal from their deareſt friends..
To give you a full idea of what I mean, I ſend you
a hiſtory of my life and adventures for one day, and I
wiſh I could ſay it was the only one, in which I have
been witneſs to fuck diſagreeable ſcenes as are here
repreſented.
Iq
%
230
No. XXXIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
In the morning I breakfaſted with two young la-
dies. Miſs Harriet the elder ſiſter was about the age
of nineteen, and Miſs Fanny the youngeſt not quite
ſeventeen. Their parents are able amply, to provide
for them : and have ſpared no coſt in maſters of every
kind, in order to give them all faſhionable female ac-
compliſhments. Ever ſince they have quitted the nur-
ſery, they have been indulged in ſeeing their own com.
pany in Miſs Harriet's dreſſing-room, which is finiſhed
and adorned with great elegance of taſte and profufion
of expence. They are both poſſeſſed of no ſmall ſhare
of beauty, with ſo much quickneſs of apprehenfion and
ready wit, as might, if rightly applied, render them
extremely entertaining. Not one real misfortune can
they yet have met with, to four their tempers or ſup-
preſs their vivacity: yet I could plainly fee, that they
were very far from being happy, and that their unhap-
pineſs aroſe from their continual bickerings with eachi
other. After breakfaſt, Miſs Fanny took up a volume
af Shakeſpear's plays that lay in the window, and out
of the Midſummer Night's Dream, read the following
part of a ſpeech which Helena makes to her friend:
Hermia, in the third act ::
“ Injurious Hermia, moſt ungrateful maid !
“ Have you contrived, have you with theſe cond
66 trived
“ To bait me with this foul deriſion?
66 Is all the counſel that we two have ſhared,
« The fiſters vows, the hours that we have ſpent,-
66 When we have chid the hafty-footed time,
66 For parting us; O! and is all forgot!"
Then
5..
No. XXŠIM.
231
THE ADVENTURES.
Then laying down the book with the tears half ſtart-
ing from her eyes, ſhe looked earneſtly at her ſiſters
and in a tone more theatrical than I wiſh to hear off
the ſtage, cried out, " Oh! wretched Helena, unhap-
ру maid? I wonder not that in your circumſtances
you imagined that every word was intended as aa
sa inſult; ſince no doubt you had often experienced
“ ſuch inhuman treatment,” Miſs. Harriet with ſome
warmth anſwered, “ You ſhould remember, Siſter,
" that Helena was a fooliſh weak girl, fond of a maz
55 that deſpiſed her; and it was kind of any body to
" endeavour to cure her of ſuch a mean-ſpirited pal
6.6 fion.”
Fanny. 'Tis always cruel, Sifter, to inſult the
wretched.
Harriet. Thoſe that are miſerable by their own
folly, Miſs Fanny, will call every thing inſult and re-
proach, that tends not to ſoothe and encourage them in.
a filly paſſion.
Fanny. If love is a filly paſſion, Miſs Harriet, I
know ſome mighty wiſe people that have felt its power.
Harriet. I don’t, ſay love is.a filly paſſion, where
it is properly placed : but I know, Madam, that a head-
ſtrong young girl will always be angry with every one
that adviſes her for her own good.
Fanny. And I know alſo, Madam
A.
THE ADVENTURIR.
No. XXXIII.
As ſoon as the affectionate name of Siſter was drop-
ped, and the ceremony of Mifs ſupplied its place, I even
then began to fear, left ceremony would alſo undergo the
fame fate, and that paſion at laſt would introduce open
rudneſs: but the word Madatıı doubly retorted, no.
ſooner reached my ears, than, trembling for the event,
I interrupted the dialogue by taking my leave; and I
doubt not but any one from this ſketch may eaſily be
able to paint in what manner theſe young ladies paſs
molt of their hours together.
From hence I went to viſit three couſins, who, ali
though they had moderate independent fortunes, yet
had for ſome years lived together as one family. They
were women of an obſcure and low education, but com-
monly reputed good-natured. I took it for granted,
therefore, that I ſhould meet with fome harmony
amongft them : but by their converſation I foon found,
that they continued under the ſame roof, for no other
reaſon, but becauſe each fancied herſelf obliged to it
ſhe knew not why, and could not tell how to extricate
herſelf from imaginary chains.
Whatever converſation I began with a deſign of
amuſing them, was interrupted by their all talking at
once upon the ſubject which ſeemed uppermoſt in their
minds; and proving to a demonſtration, that one per-
ſon could live by herſelf much cheaper than with a
companion; and each feparately declared, that the
could live for a mere trifle, was it not for expenſive
connexions. Then running through every branch of
houſe-keeping, each inveighed ſtrongly againſt ſome
article, which either ſhe did not like, or from ill health
could not enjoy, and which ſhe knew alſo to be agree-
able to her companions. This diſcourſe was too vul.
gar
No. XXXIII.
233
THE ADVENTURER.
gar as well as diſagreeable to be long endured; I
therefore haſtened off as faſt as poſſible, and went to
dinner, where the family confifted of an old gentleman
and lady, their two daughters, and two young gentle-
men, who, I foon found, were the intended lovers of
the young ladies. By intended lovers, I mean they
were young gentlemen, whoſe fortunes and characters
were agreeable to the parents; and the deſign of this
interview was for the young people to ſee whether
they were agreeable to each other. I now expected
the higheſt ſcene of cheerfulneſs and good-humour;
for on ſuch occaſions both gentlemen and ladies gene-
rally dreſs themſelves in their beſt looks and their beſt
humour, as certainly as in their beſt and moſt becoming
clothes. The two gentlemen I foon perceived had
made a ſeparate choice; but, unfortunately, the two
ladies were both bent on the conqneſt of the the ſame
man; to compaſs which, their features and perfons,
through affectation, were thrown into a thouſand dif-
tortions. From an envious fear of each other's ſucceſs,
lowring ſuſpicion ſat upon their brows; and their eyes,
which were naturally piercing, darted forth ſuch mas
lignant glances at each other, that they loſt all their
beauty, and, from being turned ſo many ways at once,
looked as if they ſquinted. Their whole diſcourſe con-
fifted of ſharp reflections againſt coquetry; each infia
nuating in pretty intelligible terms, that the other was,
a finiſhed coquet: and indeed, they ſpared not, in an
indirect manner, to accuſe each other of every ill qua-
lity in human nature. How this recommended them
to their lovers, I know not; but it made their com-
pany, partly through compaſſion, and partly. through
indignation, ſo unpleaſant to me, that as ſoon as I could,
confiftent
234
No. XXXIII.
THE ADVENTURER.
conſiſtent with civility, I took my leave, and cloſed
this agreeable day with a married couple, the motive
of whoſe coming together was faid to be love, for no
other could well be aſſigned for it. They had been
married fome years, but had no children; which I foon
found was no ſmall grief to the huſband, by his talking
in raptures of every prattling child he had met witlı
abroad; to which the wife always anſwered, that ſhe
was ſick of heariig of nothing but the monkey tricks
of a parcel of ſenſeleſs brats. As they were both peo-
ple of tolerable underſtanding. and were ſaid to be
very fond of reading, I endeavoured to turn the dif-
courſe into another channel, which was pretty eaſily
done, and they with great readineſs entered into a con-
verſation on plays and books of amuſement. But here
again not a ſingle character could be mentioned with-
out cauſing a warm diſpute between the huſband and
wiſe : fhe moſt outrageouſly inveighed againſt every
example of a kind and obliging wife, whoſe behaviour,
ſhe ſaid, was the effect of a paltry meanneſs of fpirit ;
while he burſt out in raptures on the happineſs of eve-
ry libertine, who was not bound by the uncaly fetters
of matrimony. Both had foune poetical paſſage ready
to repeat in ſupport of their deciſions; and their eyes
were alternately caſt towards me, as claiming my ap-
probation.
Could I poſibly want to be farther informed of
their private hiſtory ? Or can I claim to myſelf any pe-
culiar penetration, for ſaying that Mr. B-is grown
ſick of his wife, and is a man of pleaſure and intrigue ;
and that ſhe leads him a weary life from ſuſpicion of his
amours, being refolved not to incur that cenſure of
mean-ſpiritedneſs, which ſhe caſt on every character
that
No. XXXIII.
235
THE ADVENTURER.
that exemplified any degree of patience and acquief-
cence towards a huſband? Nay, without the leaſt fpark
of divination, I will venture to foretel, that Mr. B-,
driven from his own houſe by the petulance and cla-
mours of his wife, will ſpend moſt of his time with
fome favourite courtezan, whoſe intereſt it is to engage
him by cheerfulneſs and good-humour : and that Mrs.
B- piqued at the neglect of her charms, may pof-
fibly revenge the inconſtancy of her huſband, by facri.
ficing her own virtue and honour.
If, Sir, you can prevail with people not to expoſe
themſelves in this manner, and can perſuade theira
Good-humour would be a more agreeable entertain-
ment to their gueſts, than the moſt coſtly proviſions ;
you will certainly do an eſſential piece of ſervice ta fo-
ciety, and you may command all the affiſtance in the
power of
Your moſt obedient, &c.
MYRTILLA.
No. XX,
236
No. XXXIV, .
THE ADVENTURER,
No. XXXIV. Saturday, March 3. 1753-
Has toties otata exegit gloria pænas.
Lupa
Such fate purſues the votaries of praiſe
To the ADVENTURER..
SIR.
Fleet-prifon, Feb. 24
1
To a benevolent diſpoſition, every ſtate of life will af
ford fome opportunities of contributing to the well-fare
of mankind. Opulence and ſplendor are enabled to
diſpel the cloud of adverſity, to dry up the tears of the
widow and the orphan, and to increaſe the felicity of
all around them : their example will animate virtue,..
and retard the progreſs of vice. And even indigence
and obfcurity, though without power to confer happi-
neſs, may at leaſt prevent miſery, and apprize thoſe
who are blinded by their paſſions, that they are on the
brink of irremediable calamity.
Pleafed, therefore, with the thought of recovering
others from that folly ıvhich has embittered my own
days, I have preſumed to addreſs the Adventurer from
the dreary manſions of wretchedneſs and deſpair, of
which
No. XXXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
237
which the gates are ſo wonderfully conſtructed, as to
fly open for the reception of ſtrangers, though they are
impervious as a rock cf adamant to ſuch as are within
them:
--
-Facilis defcenfus Averni ;
Nocles atque dies patet atri janua Ditis :
Sed revocare gradum, fuperafque evadere ad auras,
Hoc opus hic labor efi.
VIRG.
The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth deſcent, and eaſy is the way:
But to return and view the cheerful ſkies;
In this the taſk and mighty labour lies.
DRYDEN
Suffer me to acquaint you, Sir, that I have glittere
ed at the ball, and ſparkled in the circle ; that I have
had the happineſs to be the unknown favourite of an
unknown lady at the maſquerade, have been the dea
light of tables of the firſt faſhion, and the envy of my
brother beaux; and to defcend a little lower, it is, I
believe, ſtill remembered, that Meffrs. Velours and
d'Eſpagne ſtand indebted for a great part of their pre-
fent influence at Guildhall, to the elegance of my
Jhape, and the graceful freedom of my carriage.
Sed quæ præclara proſpera tanti,
U rebus latis par fit menfura malorum!
Jov.
See the wild purchaſe of the bold and vain,
Where every bliſs is bought with equal pain!
Ai
238
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXXIV.
gion;
As I entered into the world very young, with an
clegant perſon and a large eſtate, it was not long be-
fore I diſentangled myſelf ftom the ſhackles of reli-
for I was determined to the purſuit of pleaſure,
which according to my notions confifted in the unre-
ſtrained and unlimited gratifications of every paſſion
and every appetite ; and as this could not be obtained
under the frowns of a perpetual dictator, I conſidered
religion as my enemy; and proceeding to treat her
with contempt and deriſion, was not a little delighted,
that the unfaſhionableneſs of her appearance, and the
unanimated uniformity of her motions, afforded fre-
quent opportunities for the fallies of my imagination.
Conceiving now that I was fufficiently qualified to
laugh away fcruples, I imparted my remarks to thoſe
among my female favourites, whoſe virtue I intend-
ed to attack; for I was well aſſured, that pride
would be able to make but a weak defence, when reli.
gion was ſubverted; nor was my ſucceſs below my ex-
pectation; the love of pleaſure is too ſtrongly implant-
ed in the female breaſt, to ſuffer them fcrupulouſly to
examine the validity of arguments deſigned to weaken
reſtraint ; all are eaſily led to believe, that whatever
thwarts their inclination muſt be wrong : little more,
therefore, was required, than by the addition of fome
circumſtances, and exaggeration of others, to make
merriment to ſupply the place of demonſtration; nor
was I ſo ſenſeleſs as to offer arguments to ſuch as could
not attend to them, and with whom a repartee or catch
would more effectually anſwer the ſame purpoſe. This
being effected, there remained only “the dread of the
" world :” but Roxana ſoared too high, to think the
opinion of others worthy her notice : Laetitia ſeemed
to
No. XXXIV.
239
.
THE ADVENTURER.
to think of it only to declare, that " if all her hairs
were worlds," ſhe ſhould reckon them “ well loft
“ for love;" and Paſtorella fondly conceived, that ſhe
could dwell for ever by the fide of a bubbling fountain,
content with her ſwain and fleecy.care ; without con-
ſidering that ſtillneſs and folicitude can afford' fatisfac-
tion only to innocence.
It is not the deſire of new acquiſitions, but the glo-
ry
of conqueſts, that fires the ſoldier's breaſt; as in-
deed the town is feldom worth much, when it has ſuf-
fered the devaſtations of a fiege, ſo that though I did
not openly declare the effects of my own proweſs,
which is forbidden by the laws of honour, it cannot be
ſuppoſed that I was very follicitous to bury my repu-
tation, or to hinder, accidental diſcoveries. To have
gained one victory, is an inducement to hazard a ſecond
engagement: and though the ſucceſs of the general
ſhould be a reaſon for increaſing the ſtrength of the
fortification, it becomes, with many, a pretence for an
immediate ſurrender, under the notion that no power
is able to withſtand ſo formidable an adverſary; while
others brave the danger, and think it mean to furren-
der, and deftardly to fly. Meliffa, indeed, knew bet-
ter; and though ſhe could not boaſt the apathy, ſteadi-
neſs, an l inflexibility of a Cato, wanted not the more
prudent virtue of Scipio, and gained the victory by de-
clining the conteft.
You muſt not, however, imagine, that I was, during
this ſtate of abandoned libertiniſm, fo fully convinced
of the fitneſs of my own conduct, as to be free from un-
eaſineſs. I knew very well, that I might juſtly be
deemed the peſt of ſociety, and that ſuch proceedings
muſt terminate in the deſtruction of my health and for:
tune;
240
No. XXXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
tune; but to admit thoughts of this kind was to live
upon the rack: I fled, therefore, to the regions of
mirth and jolity, as they are called, and endeavoured
with Burgundy, and a continual rotation of company,
to free myſelf from the pangs of reflection. From
theſe orgies we frequently fallied forth in queſt of ad-
ventures, to the no ſmall terror and confternation of all
the ſober ſtragglers that came in our way: and though
we never injured, like our illuſtrious progenitors, the
Mohocks, either life or limbs; yet we have in the
midſt of Covent-Garden buried a taylor, who had been
troubleſome to ſome of our fine gentlemen, beneath a
heap of cabbage-leaves and ſtalks, with this conceit,
Satia te caule quem ſemper cupifti.
Glut yourſelf with cabbage, of which you have al-
ways been greedy.
i
1
1
1
There can be no reaſon for mentioning the common
exploits of breaking windows and bruiſing the watch;
unleſs it be to tell you of the device of producing be-
fore the juſtice broken lanthorns, which have been
paid for a hundred times: or their appearances with
patches on their heads, under pretence of being cut by
the ſword that was never drawn: nor need I ſay any
thing of the more formidable attack of ſturdy chair.
men, armed with poles ; by a ſlight ſtroke of which
the pride of Ned Revel's face was at once laid flat
and that effected in an inſtant, which its moſt morta
foe had for years eſſayed in vain. I ſhall paſs over t'.
accidents that attend attempts to ſcale windows, a :
endeavours to diſlodge ſigns from their hooks: the
al
No. XXXIV.
THE ADVENTURER.
241
are many " hair-breadth 'ſcapes," beſides thoſe in the
" imminent deadly breach ;" but the rake's life, tho
it be equally hazardous with that of the ſoldier, is nei.
ther accompanied with preſent honour nor with pleaſ.
ing retroſpeet: fach is, and ſuch ought to be the dif-
ference, between the enemy and the preferver of his
country,
Amidit fuch giddy and thoughtleſs extravagance, it
will not ſeem (trange, that I was often the dupe of
coarſe flattery. When Monf. L'Allonge allured me,
that I thruft quart over arm better than any man in
England, what could I do leſs than preſent him with
a ſword that coſt me thirty pieces? I was bound for a
hundred pounds for Tom Tippet, becauſe he had de
clared that he would dance a minuet with any man in
the three kingdoms except myſelf. But I often part-
ed with money againſt my inclination, either becauſe
I wanted the reſolution to refufę, or dreaded the ap-
pellation of a niggardly fellow; and I may be truly
ſaid to have ſquandered my eſtate, without honour,
without friends, and without pleaſure. The laſt may,
perhaps, appearftrange to men unacquainted with the
maſquerade of life: I deceived others, and I endea-
voured to deceive myſelf; and have worn the face of
pleaſantry and gaiety, while my heart. fuffered the
molt exquiſite torture.
By the inftigation and encouragement of my friends,
Iibecame at length' ambitious of a feat in parliament;
and accordingly ſet out for the town of Wallop in the
weſt, where my arrival was welcomed by a thouſand:
shroats, and I was in three days fure of a majority:
but after drinking out one hundred and fifty hogſheads
of wine, and bribing two thirds of the corporation
VOL. I.
L
twice
242
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXXIV.
twice over, I had the mortification to find, that the
borough had been before fold to Mr. Courtly.
In a life of this kind, my fortune, though confidera
able, was preſently diſſipated; and as the attraction
grows more ſtrong the nearer any body approaches the
earth, when once a man begins to fink into poverty,
he falls with velocity always increaſing ; every fupe
ply is purchaſed at a higher and higher price, and eve-
ry office of kindneſs obtained with greater and great-
er difficulty. Having now acquainted' you with my
ftate of elevation, I ſhall, if you encourage the conti,
nuance of my correſpondence, ſhew you by what ſteps
I deſcended from a firſt floor in Pall Mall to my prea
fent habitation,
T
I am, Sir,
Your humble fervant,
MISARGYRUS,
Noi
No. XXXV.
243.
THE ADVENTURER.
1
No. XXXV. Tueſday, March 6. 1753.
Celebrare domeftica facta.
HORO
We find fit ſubjects for our verfe at home.
Roscom
To the ADVENTURER.
SIR,
One of the improvements of life in which the preſent
age have excelled all that have gone before, is the
quick circulation of intelligence, the faithful and eaſy
communication of events paft and future, by the mul.
titude of news-papers which have been contrived to
amuſe or inform us. But as theſe performances, whe-
ther daily or weekly, are commonly the productions of
induſtrious indigence, unacquainted with the higher claf.
ſes of mankind, mycotemporaries have left me the province
of relating what pafles in the faſhionable world. I ſhall,
therefore, give up to my brother journaliſts the dreams
of politicians, the diſputes of empires, and the fluctua.
tions of commerce; and apply myſelf entirely to the
L 2
more
244
No. Xxxv.
THE ADVENTURER,
more important buſineſs which claims every one's at-
tention that has the happineſs of living within the cir.
cle of politeneſs. I have accordingly formed the plan
of a new paper calculated ſolely for high life, in which
will be contained a periodical account of the riſe, pro-
greſs, and declenſion of faſhions; and a faithful recital
of every remarkable occurrence among perſons of figure
and diſtinction - The uſefulneſs and entertainment of
ſuch a paper, are too evident to need any obſervation ;
and, to give you a comprehenſive view of my deſign,
and make it univerſally known, I have ſent you the
following ſpecimen.
The BEAU MONDE:
OR,
The GENTLEMAN and LADY'S POLITE INTELLIGENCER,
Yeſterday arrived a Mail from Bath.
We hear that a certain great Lady, having com-
plained to a certain great Lord, that the world was ſo
ill natured as to to ſay her retreat into the country
was in order to lie-in, and that ſhe had been delivered
of Twins, “ Madam,” ſaid my Lord, “ I make it a
“ rule never to believe above half what the world ſays."
Advices from Hyde Park bring accounts of a bloody
battle fought the 3d inſtant, N, S, between captain
Dreada
No, XXXV.
245
THE ADVENTURERO
Dreadnought and lieutenant Fury, in which both were
honourably'tun through the body.
-ada,
Letters from New Market affure us, that the horile
are actually in motion, and exerciſe every day; whence
it is conjectured, that they will take the field, and en
ter upon action ſome time in April. A liſt of the forces
is already drawn up by the firſt aid-de-camp, the hon-
ourable Reginald Heber, Eſq.
An expreſs arrived yeſterday from France, when the
privy.council met in Taviſtock-ſtreet for the diſpatch
of faſhions. The Britiſh manufactures had leave to
withdraw their petitions, and the fan makers addreſs
yas ordered to lie upon the table.
Orders were iſſued from Lady Chamberlain's office,
for all Peereffes, &c. not to wear any caps in full dreſs,
and to make uſe of grey powder. The men to wear
wire wigs, or their hair frizzled up to the top, without
hats. The muffs to expire the firſt of May next.
On Tueſday laſt a pair of white-heel'd ſhoes made
its
appearance in the Park, and the next day was-ac-
companied by a pair of Glver-clock'd ſtockings.
According to the lateſt obſervations the hoops are
found to have increaſed to of an inch in diameter, and
the hats to have decreaſed in the brim.
At the laſt Maſquerade it was computed that there
were near eighteen hundred people, men, women, and
LS
Children
246
No. XXXV.
THE ADVENTURER:
children. The moſt remarkable were three naked la-
dies repreſenting the. Graces, two dancing bears, and
a bombazeen devil. Lady Bubble-Bet loft ſeven hun-
dred guineas, and my Lord Stake is ſaid to have won
fifteen hundred. The company departed in good order
at break of day.
Both playhouſes perform, as uſual, every night to
crowded audiences. Lady Frolick, chuling to mob it
in the gallery the firſt night of the new play, loſt her
pink ſhade, half her petenlair, and one ſhoe in getting
in. Mrs. Vale and Lady Stickfort may be heard and
ſeen every night at one or other houſe.
A Petition figned by ſeventy-two routs, thirty-five
drums, fifteen drum-majors and eleven hurricanes, is
prepared againſt the bill for laying an additional duty
on the Ace of Spades. And we hear that, in confe.
quence
of the New Stile, à bill is to be brought in for
altering the diurnal calculation of time. It is propoſed,
that the morning be put back twelve hours, and is not
to commence till twelve at noon : noon and night to be
annihilated, and the evening not to end till day-break.
This is agreeable to the practice of all the faſhionable
world; and the company of Stationers will have orders
to prepare a new almanack upon the occaſion, in order
to bind up with future court-kalendars.
By private letters from Bath we are informed, that a
vai concourſe of people are coming in daily, but they
have little or no company. Miſs Sufan Sly, who late-
ly went hither for the recovery of her health, is fafely
brought
No. XXXV.
247
THE ADVENTURFR.
brought to bed of a fon' and na heir, to the great grief
of that noble family.
We hear that a treaty of marriage is on foot, and
will ſpeedily be conſumated between Patrick Maç Las
Lack-
land, Eſq. and Miſs Polly Pert, a lady of great merit
and beautyin her pocket.
ia
odig
Laſt Monday died at her ladyfhip's houſe in Grof.
venor Square, Miſs Cloe, only Lap-dog of the Counteſs
of Fiddle Faddle.
On Sunday laſt a terrible fire broke out at Lady
Brag's, occaſioned by the following accident; Mrs.
Overall the houſekeeper, having loſt three rubbers at
whiſt running, without holding a ſwabber, (notwith-
ftanding ſhe had changed chairs, furzed the cards, and
ordered Jemmy the foot-boy to fit croſs legged for good
luck,) grew out of patience; and taking up the devil's
books, as ſhe called them, hung them into the fire, and
the flames ſpread to the ſteward's room; but by the
timely afſiftarıce of Mrs. Cook, Mrs. Chambermaid,
and Mrs. Lady's own Woman, they were prevented
from doing any conſiderable damage.
A Bill of Marriages, Burials, Diſeaſes, and Caſualties
for the lant Week,
2
Married (in Church).
(at May Fair)
(at the Fleet)
Il
27
Buried
248
- No. XXXV
THE ADVENTURER.
Buried (in the Country)
1
142
DISE AS E S.
broglion
11
ed
1
I
34
1
5
73
500
92
ICOO
8
1
Il
52
aken heart (by huſbands)
Child bed (in private)
Conſumption of the pocket)
Colds (caught at places of diverſion)
Exceffive gaming
Bad livers
Mortification
Overflowing of the gall
Rach
Small-pox (loſs of beauty by it)
Spleen
Surfeit
Still-born
Stifled (after birth)
Tympanies (alias drums)
Vapours
1111111
7
23
13
1
18
i
1
III
3
19
7
18
CASUALITIES.
34
11
11
12
95
Teeth (loſs of)
Stabbed in the reputation)
Horn-mad
Bit by a mad lap-dog
Turned off a ladder
Killed (in duels)
III
www.studio
I
do
7
Found
No. XXXV.
249
TIE ADVENTURER.
31
Found dead (drunk)
Kicked and pulled by the ears
11
High Mall at St. James's Park, 25 minutes after
Two.
Faro bank Stock 360 1. 1 half. Hazard ditto 270 1.
3 8ths. Ditto Tallies sol. to 400 l. 1-4th. Sinking
Fund, no price. Brag circulation, uncertain. Opera
Subſcription, no price. Affembly ditto, 521. 10 s. Concert
ditto, ift Sub. no price. Ditto ad Sub. ditto. Ditto
New, iſt Sub. 21. 12s. 6d. to 31. 35. Ditto 2d Sub.
108. 6d. to 41. 45. Iriſh lottery, Books ſhut. Bene-
fit Tickets, 2 s. to 3 s. 'to 5 s. to gol. Debts of Hon-
our transferable at White's, no price.
Thus, Sir, I have explained the method that I in-
tend to follow, and imparted ſome of the materials of
wbich my paper will confift: and as I doubt not of its
univerſal circulation among perfons of quality, I ſhall,
in imitation of other papers, give admittance to all
thoſe advertiſements which are more immediatnly con-
nected with my ſcheme ; ſuch as of plays and panto-
mimes, maſquerades, ridottos, affemblios, oratorios, con-
certs, the animal comedians, Vauxhall, Ranelagh,
Ruckholt-houſe, Kendal-houfe, &c. &c. &c. Auctions
of china, knicknacks, and cockle Shells; Pinchbeck's
repoſitory; parrots, puppies, and monkies, loſt, ſtolen,
or ſtrayed. Alſo for wives, huſbands, and miſtreſſes ;
maſquerade habits, and makks-tooth-powders, lip-
ſalves, and beautifying lotions-Mrs. Giles fine com-
pound at a Guinea an ounce the ladies court ſticking
plaiſter--and the new invented powder for ſhaving.
Then among the articles books, Duke's Art of Dancing
for
250
THE ADVENTURER.
No. XXXV.
for the in Itruction of Grown Gentlemen-The Ladies
Memorandum Book Hiftorical Liſt of Horſe Races.
Calculation for laying the odds at any Game-Hoyle
on the SciencesNew Novels, and other falhionable
Books of Entertainment.
I am, SIR,
A.
Your vory humble Servant,
J. TATTLE.
END OF THE FIRST YOLUME.
BOUND
CFD 19 1934
Urin
WH.
LiefARY
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
NINARIA EZAVAZAZKIAIRE
1
1
3 9015 06377 9337
:
A
3 9015 00395 537 7
University of Michigan BUHR
..
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