LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, INTRODUCTORY TO A KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD. [Continued from Page 19.] MY DEAREST SISTER, LETTER I. me while it furnishes the belief, that no power in the realms of vanity, no Syren on the stream of pleasure, can weaken its influence, or reduce its emotions. On Thursday evening, or rather on Thursday it was on Friday morning that I was at a ball of What a letter, my dearest Eliza, have I received from you! what an emanation of a pure, highly gifted, and instructed mind. I am, it is true, standing on the threshold of the great, the fashionable, and the busy world, and looking for-night; but I must make another correction, for ward into a scene full of objects calculated to produce pleasure, to atter vanity, and seduce reflection; yet, if I know myself, there is nothing in all its fascinating scenery, which will afford me so much pleasure as receiving a letter from you. No amusements in this proud, splendid, and gay metropolis, which will afford me such real delight, as reading the description of your calm, innocent, and dutiful occupations. Whilst every pleasure I enjoy, every society 1 frequent, and every gaiety of which I partake, will be enhanced in proportion, as I think that the description of them will be interesting to you, and tend to enliven the moments of that excellent being, whose parental care, tenderness, and indulgence, we have experienced with-joying the sleep of virtue." out remission, till that visitation of Heaven, which has made him almost as dependent upon us, as we have been upon him. He has done his duty; we shall do ours; and I now consider myself as performing a part of it. From the general turn and character of those with whom I have communicated since my arrival in Portman-square, I should not venture to declare the real sentiments of my heart to any of them, as they would be considered unnatural or affected. It is a darling sister to whom I could say, with the certainty of being believed, that, without professing an insensibility to those amusements which are presenting themselves to me; without assuming a philosophic inattention to myself, or pretending to disdain the attentions of others; without declaring myself in hostility against the power of fashion; in short, without affecting to be a stoic of twenty, I am, in fact, very seldom absent from the dear inhabitants of nor scarce an hour passes without a recurring thought on you and the superior occupations in which you are employed, as well as the high satisfaction which your bosom can boast from the performance of them. I can venture to tell you, that I am thankful, truly thankful, for this sensibility; and my heart elates No. II. Vol. I. "Eliza, after a day of filial duty, and animated tranquillity; after having made the whole of it comfortable to her father, and illuminated, as it were, by her affection the darkness of his hours, by conducting him to his chamber; and having kneeled by his bed, and implored Heaven to avert the perils and dangers of the night, has kissed his cheek, received his blessing, and is now en But I will not tell my dearest Eliza, that I was not, after all, delighted with this scene of festivity. It really did delight me. My spirits were animated by the dance; my vanity was pleased with attentions; an occasional whisper of admiration did not escape me: and every variety of this superb entertainment found in my spirits an accordant disposition to enjoy it :-Nor will I deny the satisfaction which I received in the prospect of some promised repetitions of the same pleasure. The rooms presented a blaze of light from lamps of various colours, arranged in every form that taste and fancy could suggest to encrease the natural effect of their splendor. Festoons of artificial flowers enlivened, while the flowing. draperies and gilded decorations of the furniture The whole realised to my enriched the scene. imagination some of those magical descriptions which have so often delighted us, while we have been perusing the romance of the Arabian Nights. But I shall not attempt to describe the increased effect of this festive spectacle, when I reflect on the forms which peopled the enchanted mansion! All that beauty, elegance, and accomplishment could produce was there, and heightened by attirements which could not have M been exceeded, if the Graces themselves had been called from the toilette of Venus, to display their power in the decoration of human charms. Luxury provided the banquet, and taste adorned it; whilst nature itself had been forestalled to enhance its profusion. The flowers of spring, and the fruits of summer, were not scattered with a sparing hand, but seen in the abundance of their respective seasons. The eye and the palate were equally gratified by ornamental beauty and culinary perfection. The song succeeded; and voices, sweet as if they had been stolen from Heaven, successively enchanted us, till the renewal of the dance, which continued till the morning was so far advanced, that I began to apprehend a winter's returning light would faintly beam on our departure. You may, however, guess the hour of it, when I tell you, that on my disrobing for rest, my thoughts returned to you, with this silent ejaculation-" Here am I, amidst the languor and fatigue of pleasure, preparing to slumber through the greatest part of a day, whilst Eliza is about to rise refreshed by sleep, to perform a thousand kind and grateful duties through the course of it." I do not, however, mean to write, as I am sure it is not in my habit to think cynically; for I was charmed with the scene which I have described, and have experienced no inconveniences whatever from its enjoyment but my immediate object is to assure you, and your heart, my dearest Eliza, will confidently receive the assurance, that though my mind might be absorbed, for a few hours, by the passing pleasures, they were no sooner gone, than it returned with a warm and native impulse to the first objects of its affection, and reposed delightfully on them. And here I cannot but remark, on the advantage which we now derive, not merely from the admirable example of our departed mother, but from the impression which it was her principal and constant object to mark indelibly on our minds; in short, to cultivate the heart, and fill every vessel of it with affection. Whether our natural dispositions were originally good, cannot tell; but if they were not, she has contrived, thank Heaven, to make them so. She was, indeed, often told that this design of her's might have a desirable tendency, if we were destined to pass our lives in privacy; but that it would altogether unfit us for the world, with whose arts, snares, and deceptions, these warm affections were not calcula ed to contend. On the theatre we sh uld be most probably called to act; it was requently urged to her, that doubt, precaution, and that kind of hesitation, which is anly a softer name for unreserved suspicion, are the necessary weapons of the mind to guard it against those artifices which are so frequently involved in all human transactions; while the predisposition to general confidence and unreserved kindness is the most dangerous quality that a youthful mind can possess; as the gratification of it leads to consequences the most fatal to happiness. Our mother, however, who had been schooled in the world, was not unacquainted with the human heart, persevered in forming her daughters according to her own principles. Affection was her watch-word; and a graduated state of it in the human character, was, in her opinion, the best preservative against the commission of evil, and the best security for practical good. Nay, without being influenced by that veneration for her, which hovers, as it were, about her tomb, and will continue to be a part of myself, till I am borne to my own, my understanding dictates to me that she was right; and her wisdom is proved in this, as in every other part of her superior conduct. I feel irresistibly, incontrover tably feel, that the fear of giving pain to an honoured father and a beloved sister, must ever operate as a most powerful motive to do that, and that alone, which would give them pleasure. No temptation on earth would seduce me to commit an offence which would draw a sigh from the bosom of the one, or bring a tear on the cheek of the other. And what is this virtuous resolve, but the impulse of affection? But, by way of an illustrious example of this boasted quality, wh should I meet at the ball but our Devonshire friend, Lady Mary You know how little she possessed of this virtue; good humour about her, you cannot have forand though there was a frolic, and unpleasant gotten how lightly she was used to treat the warm emotions of our hearts, and how she used to astonish, and sometimes even alarm us, with her unfeeling vivacity. But I must delay my further account of her till to-morrow. -,1 To renew my description of Lady Mary must inform you, in the first place, that I fou. d in her no alteration whatever. She is the same lively, careless, and frolicksome crea ure in her married, as she was in her single stare. Indeed it was fortunate for me that I met her in a crowd, with my mind indisposed, by the surrounding gaieties, to any serious reflection, or 1 should inost assuredly have betrayed something like horror at the evident absence in her mind of those sentiments which, accord ag to out 110tions, my dear Lliz, form its honour, is comfort, and its hpiness. Not an atom of atection appeared to be there. As we had not seen her since her marriage, I|| naturally mentioned that event; when she said it would have been fourteen most delightful months, if it had not been for the troublesome, aukward circumstance of being a mother, which had kept her at home a nost unconscionable time, and had so totally destroyed her natural colour, that she had been obliged to wear rouge ever since. Here is more affection for you. I had not observed her, when she flew across the room to embrace me. After a profusion of expressions, to tell me how delighted she was to see me, and as many compliments on my ap pearance, she eagerly inquired in what room you were, that she might hunt you out. On my replying that you were in the country with my father, she favoured you with a few strong ejaculations of pity. "Bt after all," continued she, and with one of her significant looks, "it is as well perhaps for you, my dear Caroline, that Eliza should remain in the country; for though you are very lovely, I always thought your sister the handsomest; though, to tell you the truth, fond as I was of you both, I loved you the best." Now, my dear sister, if you will promise not to be vain of your portion of the praise, I will engage never to boast of mine. || great many melancholy ones are in store for her. More of this hereafter. I must now proceed to our cousin Henry. I wrote to him immediately after receiving your letter, and I inclose you his answer to mine. MY FAIR COUSIN, YOUR very obliging letter found me at ——, where we are on a visit of a few days; and you may be assured of all due attention being paid to the suggestions of it. It may, however, be proper to premise, that the times in which we live are so unlike those which have preceded them, that they afford no grounds upon which to form a solid opinion. The experience of past ages is of little use in our days; and the conjectures of a romantic imagination are as likely to be right as the conclusions of thought and reflection. In short, the pantomime which is now acting on the theatre of Europe, offers such sudden, unexpected, and, I might almost say, unnatural transformations, that it appears to set at defiance all the long established laws of the political draina. I have, for some time past, found my reason so continually baffled; I have seen such a succession of advantages gained by improbability over probability, while the course of human affairs seems to be so diverted from its ordinary channels; in short, the state of the world is so metamorphosed and so perplexed with new and scarcely intelligible combinations-that to give an opinion on the various objects, external and in On my inquiries after Mr. M-and her baby, she said he was in the country on an hunting party; it was, she believed, in Leicestershire, but he had not written since his departure; and no news, she added, is g od news; and besides, writing is such a fatigue. "Well, but my dear Lady Mary, tell me of your dear little boy."— "Oh, as for that, every body says it is a delight-ternal, which present themselves before us, may. ful child: but you must know the brat is a girl; and I have really been so engaged, that I have not seen it these three days but once, and that was from the window, in the nurse's arms, who was walking in the square."-Here is more and more affection for you. She then expressed her hopes that we should meet often, exchanged her card with me, and, after saying in half an hour that she was going to dance with one of the most elegan' men about town, she hurried away in search of him. I have some curiosity to see her in her sober hours, if she, at present, has any; but if what I hear whispered be true, all well. be considered rather as an exercise of the understanding for the amusement of oneself, than for the instruction of others. But I will do my best. Farewell, ma belle cousine! in a few days we hope to embrace you. In the mean time, if you write to make any promise or engagements you shall think proper, and I will endea vour to fulfill them to the satisfaction of you all.— I am, as I trust you fully believe me, your very faithful and affectionate H— J-. At length, my dearest Eliza, I bid you fare. THE BEAU MONDE; OR, A HISTORY OF THE NEW WORLD. [Continued from Page 7.] LETTER FIRST. LORD L- TO SIR CHARLES L-. DEAR CHARLES, You will scarcely inquire a reason why I left you so suddenly, together with all our friends, on Tuesday night. You will give me credit for not having put myself to the expence of posting, and the fatigues of a journey of three hundred miles, without an object in view. You will be curious to know it. Listen then---It is no other than to be made a Senator; to receive a commission from some constituents in an obscure borough of Cornwall, which I never saw, to serve them in the famous chapel of St. Stephen, which I shall possibly never enter. My father, the old Earl, you know, has a borough in the west, and returns two members to Parliament; thus has this worthy gentleman, according to the rules of arithmetic, a three hundredth share of all the rights of legislation, governing, defending, and guarding the liberties of this powerful nation! He is one of those aristocratic demagogues, and borough bashaws, who have so long been the pride of our constitution. If I were in a scribbling humour, I would tell you the history of this borough; for it is not entirely in his Lordship's own power, though his interest commonly prevails. He did not purchase it. No: he left that for your overgrown East and West India merchants; besides he had scruples of some sort or other, and held it to be a kind of state simony to purchase the cure of consciences, as much as the law makes it to those who traffic in the cure of souls. His Lordship's qualms would not suffer him to buy it; he won it at a game of cards-it is true, I assure you. I have often heard the old Peer tell the story, and you know he has humour. In his youth he was a desperate gambler, and was Vice President of the club over which my Lord Acresess so long presided; indeed there is no question, but when the last mentioned Peer was obliged to fly the country, for having killed in a duel a young man whom he had stript of his last shilling, that the votes of the society would have put my father at their head; but unluckily,|| or luckily I may rather say, the worthy Viscount Mortgage put in his claims; and producing tes timonials of having ruined six heirs, and being twice ruined himself, he carried the chair hollow. My father withdrew in dudgeon, and to that very affront, perhaps, he owes his present opulence. One of the spoils of his winnings was this same borough, which his son and heir, myself, am now about to represent. The game was whist-nine all. Sir Harry Foreclose staked his borough, and the two representatives on the odd trick. My father found it difficult to find an equivalent; but his honour required that the bet should be taken up. The wood on his Hampshire estate, half a dozen presentations to Christ Church Hospital, and a vote in the India House, were judged an equality. Fortune decided for the Earl, and for his son to be a Member of Parliament. A vacancy has lately happened by the death of one of his representatives, and he immediately summoned me to repair to the spot, and get chosen in his room. This is the history of my present jaunt. I am now within a dozen miles of the town, and as I am stopping to change horses, seize this opportunity of giving an account of myself to dear Charles. THE winter has again come round, and with it the necessity of my return to town. I only want the wings to fly-you will, perhaps, say to Autter; and it is in your Lordship's power to furnish them, by transmitting me some orders on your banker. With your permission, my Lord, I shall take a share in Lady Shuffie's Faro Bank; I think it will turn to account-a word I have just learned by a letter from your steward, who says the rents are all paid, and that he has no money in hand to send me. I believe he is a rogue, my Lord; he goes to church twice on Sundays, and has taken an odd whim into his head to instruct the psalm-singers of the village. Heaven knows they want it !-for I have never endured the church since I last heard them. The stupid stuff is all this stupid village can furnish me wlih to write to you. Pray, my Lord, let me know your own affairs -how your electioneering goes on, and whether you are likely to succeed, Does my uncle Sir Hilary give you all the support he promised? I suppose you must drink yourselves blind to please the brutes. It is rather whimsical, methinks, that a man must loose his reason before he can become a Member of Parliament; but the misfortune of it is, to judge at least by the conduct of most of them, that they never recover it during the whole sitting. I beg pardon for troubling you with this letter, for I suppose the tumult of an election takes up all your time. Adieu, my Lord-but do not forget the orders; for I purpose to set off for London in a few days. WE have carried our election, and one half the town is drunk for joy, and the other for consolation. Such is the happy spirit of a free government. Once in every seven years the whole nation may get drunk at the expence of their governors. I never was a friend to what some people are pleased to call the liberties of their country; and Lord G- himself shall confess that I rival even him in my efforts to put an end to them. What, in fact, are these liberties? Why something that the people may sell, and what we, their governors, must buy. 'Tis a most insufferable piece of expence to us; one might almost buy a county for what it costs to become its representative. However, I'll be even with them. They have cost me ten thousand pounds; and ten thousand pounds will I, by some means or other, make of them. I shall put them up to auction; and the devil may take them if he prove the best bidder. The bearer of this will bring you the orders on my banker. As you brought me a fortune you shall share it. You know I always hated that selfish illiberality which is but too common amongst our noblemen, and which leads them to indulge themselves in every extravagance, whilst they deny their wives and sons that little sufficiency which is necessary to their rank. This is a meanness of which I shall never be guilty. Spend as you like, Madam; I set but little limits to my own expences, and can therefore have no right to prescribe any to yours. In the name of all good, then, no more hesitation, my Lady V. in asking money of me. Let us spend with equal hand; and should our extravagance oblige us to sell, we will cut a card for the benefit of the last mortgage. The steward has no money you say! he certainly is a rogue-his hypocrisy is a strong presumption; but you must not dismiss him; for as the world goes, a rogue may be useful. I wish the fellow had been a lawyer, and then his roguery might have helped us in our present election. I begin to detest this town; the fools were so honest, that they would not sell themselves; and though we had a dozen lawyers employed, the town got drunk at our expence, and then voted for the opposite party. But now to the chief purport of my letter. Your uncle, Sir Hilary, is left guardian to his niece, your cousin, Miss Rachael. She is a Norfolk heiress, and of the immense fortune of fifteen thousand pounds? her father brought her up in the true country style, and she is totally ignorant of all the forms of fashionable life.Plague take this letter, and my circuitous pen! but to finish all in one word. Your Ladyship is to break this young savage in; you must take her to town with you this winter, and lick the young bear into some passable shape. I have promised Sir Hilary. Have the goodness to let him see I have some influence. She will arrive at Clarebrook to-morrow night. TEN thousand thanks to the dear seasons that have again brought round the month of December. It is this month that concludes the hated, though necessary period, during which fashion banishes her votaries from her true seat, the capital, and condemns them to a detestable penance in the fields and woods of the country. Horrid fields-abominable groves!-This, you will say or rather, like all correspondents, I will say for you, is no very poetical address. You are right, my dear, it is not so The country and all its inhabitants are my rooted aversion. It may suit a native squire, a dunned poet, or a retiring alderman; but I am a woman of fashion, and have nothing to say to either of them. |