786.

Such a series of varions expences as he ad now plunged into could not continue ng, without confiderable resources to fuply them, and credit having expired, the emands for cafh became frequent and im ortunate, until at laft the fheriff's officers rced in, and the fiddlers and dancers caered out.

In this calamitous fituation our hero re›lved upon desperate means, and had reourfe to the advertising money-lenders, a becies of reptiles who have long infefted his city. From thefe fwindlers he received emporary relief; but they having got writen fecurities to the amount of fevera! thouand pounds, on their becoming due he was bliged to fly into a remote part of the ountry, where, furrounded by poverty, his nly folace and comforts were found in the neretricious embraces of the Beetle-browed Jurse.

The father hearing of his miferable fituation, like the good parent in fcripture,, elt for his prodigal fon. Terms were of ered, through the medium of an eminent ttorney in London, who had long fupplied im with the means of fupport, and by his dvice he affented to diffolve his connection with the Nurse, and to leave the kingdom or a limited time, upon a genteel allow ince. But this affent was hypocritical, for uch was the fafcinating power which at hat time attached his heart, that the ftrug gles he fuffered under in the conflict of partng from his lady had nearly deprived him of his existence. However he actually went over to the continent.

In confequence of our hero's abfence, and perhaps the indulgence of his creditors, who were many of them poor perfons, a compofition of his debts was agreed to, and his father advanced the money. Several of them indeed depended upon his honour, but they have been forely difappointed; for though he is now one of the richest commoners in

the kingdom, he has pofitively refused to pay the balances.

In France he spent a tedious year. To him every thing was flat, ftale, and unprofitable-His pleasures were in EnglandThey centered in the perfon of his amiable love-And unable to continue thus divorced from her endearments, he flew with ardour to her embraces, once more became the humble cottager, and was father to fix children-and the husband of his miftiefs was the only impediment to his marrying her.

The father, on becoming acquainted with his fon's hypocrify, reduced his allowance, and threatened to withhold the whole, if he did not immediately diffolve his amorous connection. He, however, attempted to repel his father's refentments, by denying the charge, and removing to Scotland, the

573 lady remaining in Wales; but notwithftanding the diftance of place, the amorous pair kept up a conflant correspondence, and had frequent meetings,

This ftate of wretchednefs lafted for years, his illegitimate offspring ftill increafing; but at last two long wifhed-for events took place, which at once raised him from poverty to affluence. -1

The caufes of this fudden change were the deaths of his father and his elder brother's child, by which he came to the title, and the whole of the family estate.

The change of fortune produced an immediate change of mind, new appetites, new affections, and new connections took place.

The Nurfe was difcarded-the claimed a fettlement, and a bill was filed against her.-Our hero married a woman of opulence, our heroine returned to the arms of her lawful spouse, where the remains with a numerous progeny, for whom fcarce any provision has been made.

Character of Lavater.

O the greateft part of our readers it

must be known, that John Cafpar Lavater of Zurich in Switzerland has rendered his name famous by his work on the fabject of phyfiognomy - a work in which, from the traits of the human countenance, he pretends to teach us how to form an accurate judgment of the internal character, or natural difpofitions and abilities of thofe with whom we converfe. Although it cannot be affirmed that in this work he has entirely fatisfied the curiofity of his readers, he has at leaft given many proofs of extraordinary genius and fagacity. We therefore hope the following character of this fingular philofopher, tranflated from Profeffor Meiners's Letters on Switzerland, just published, will be generally acceptable.

I can fay more of Lavater, and with more confidence, than of ant other learned man in Zurich, my old friend Profeffor Hottinger excepted, having fpent the greateft part of the three laft days, and the whole of yesterday with him. Lavater is one of the few men whom I have been acquainted with, who is little folicitous to hide his faults, and fill lefs anxious to make his merits known. With regard to his moral character, it is impoffible to speak too highly of it, as his very opponents, thofe at leaft with whom I am acquainted, allow that his life and manners are blamele fs. A warm defire to advance the honour of God, and the good of his fellow-creatures, is, without a doubt, the principal feature in his character, and the leading motive of all he does. Next to these his characteristic virtues are an indefatigable placability, and an inexhaustible love for his enemies. I have often heard him talk of the

talents.

talents, merits, and good qualities of his opponents, with the fame warmth as if he had been talking of the virtues of his greatest friends. Nay, I have been a witnefs to his excufing his enemies, and uttering wishes for their welfare in fuch a manner, as to me, and I am perfuaded to every unprejudiced perfon, carried not the fmalleft mark of affectation along with it. I am perfuaded too that thefe fentiments coft him very little, but are more the fruit of his nature than of any troublefome exertion. Not a blameable word of any kind, not a fingle expreffion of inpatience of the numberless aflictions he has itruggled and ftill has to ftruggle with, ever efcaped him in my prefence. On the contrary, he is perfuaded that all these trials are for his good, and will terminate in his happinefs. Of his talents and merits of all kinds he thinks much more modeftly than his ridiculous admirers. He freely confeffes that his want of the knowledge of ancient languages, and several other useful branches of knowledge, has been a great hindrance to kim, for which realon noperfon more warmly recommends the ftudy of them. In all my converfation with him, I found fo few fymp toms of the fecret vanity of which he is accuted, and of which I myself fufpected him, that I could not help blaming myself for my fufpicion. I was ftill more iurprised not to fee, either in his perfon or conversation, any of that affected unction which is common to weak minds. Every part of him befpeaks the man of genius, but not of that fiery and uncontroulable genius which has often led him to advance extraordinary and indefenfible opinions in his works. The abuse which has been thrown upon him for giving young men a greater opinion of their talents than thofe talents would juftify, and by that means leading them into abfurdities, has made him change his conduct towards them. He is fay of admitting them into his fociety; and when he does, it is rather referved and cold than over communicative. He speaks quickly, and feems interested in what he says, but is not too hot, nor does his action pass the bounds of moderation. He hears contradiction, and will bear it very patiently, and anfwer quietly whatever objections are made to what he fays. Though he has no extenfive knowledge of any kind, his converfa. tion is rendered extremely interefting by his great abilities, and the knowledge of human nature, which his very early, and ever increafing connection with men of all ranks and orders, has given him. This explains how it comes to pafs, that notwithftanding his various weakneffes and wanderings, fo many young people, as well as the greateft part of the inhabitan s of Zurich, and the country round, are so firmly attached to him they certainly are. Hie fermons are more

followed than thofe of the most popular a mongst the other preachere (of whom there are many), though they are seldom carefully laboured compofitions, and not always very orthodox. Their principal merit confifts in the pathetic tone of his voice, action, and general elocution, which for the moft part captivates thofe who are not able to judge of any other merit. A great proof of the general esteem he is held in appeared on my walking out with him; almost all those who met us accofted him with the greatest respect, and many of the common people kissed his hand with a kind of filial reverence. It is indeed inconceivable what numbers of persons of all ranks and orders, both citizens and ftrangers, apply to him to be the judge of their contro verfies. When one fees the number of affairs which he is almoft conftantly immerfed in, one is furprised how he can find fo much time to write, and very ready to admit what he affures is the cafe, that his writing is only a relaxation from his other employments. Amidft all his fingular opinions, there is none he is fo jealous of, and flicks fo warmly to, as his own skill in physiognomy, by which he pretends to be able to difcern the characters of men as well as he could do by their actions or converfation. As, however, this is a fubject which he never touches upon before thofe who do not believe in his intuitionwe had no converfation about it. Indeed it would have been to no purpose, for he could not have convinced me, and I fhould cer tainly have made no impreffion upon him. What he has written or thought upon miracles heretofore I do not know, as I have not read all his writings; but it is certain that at prefent he does not affirm either that he ever did or ever faw a miracle. All he contends for, which the warmest oppofers of miracles will not conteft with him, is, that men of uncommon powers can do things which thofe of common powers cannot, and which appear contrary to the common courfe of nature.

Of his belief in the power and efficacy of animal magnetifm, the following letter is fufficient evidence.

To Mr. Marcard, Phyfician of the Court of Hanover.

Zurich, roth September, 1785,

ten in the morning.

pends upon the advantage of a fingle mo

ment.

Love often takes its rife from the firft in terview. --Eliza firft faw Mr. G- at the houfe of the duchefs of De, the whole company confulted him upon the reigning fashions,-this was a fubject of the utmoft importance, he anfwered with facility, precifion, and elegance; every one admired his wifdom and genius, Eliza admired him altogether.

A particular attention with which he viewed her, and an ardour that feemed to infpire his converfation when he looked towards her, awakened her tenderness, which was fo feebly oppofed by reason, that, before the left the houfe of the duchefs, her heart was completely captivated.

Mr. G-found himself in a fimilar fituation with the fair Eliza, and she was fenfible of it. A few pointed compliments, and looks of tenderness, had conviuced her that his mind was not altogether at rest.—

Eliza paffed the night in a ftate of enchanting reverie, fleep in vain folicited her fenfes, love predominated, and the moft agreeable flights of fancy delighted her imagination.

The next morning Mr. G- was early in paying his respects to Eliza. The confufion and anxiety difplayed upon his countenance, his fparkling eyes, and timid referve, convinced her of her conqueft. She could not ufe this advantage with infolence,---a favourable glance difpelled his fears, and without feeming to defire it, the brought her lover to a declaration.

White Mr. G--- fpoke, Eliza appeared abient, but not willing to make him defperate, the gave a second look, and confciouf, nefs threw her into diforder.---She endeavoured to correct the impropriety, but did not fucceed.---Love, who had framed her countenance, directed the lambent fire of her cye, and Mr. G― explained every thing to his own advantage, thanking Eliza, not with words, but by a fervent kifs upon the hand, which he had not power to withdraw.

-

Eliza ftooped,-her intention was to induce Mr. G-to rife, he ravished a kifs, it was the firft of the kind he had ever experienced, no wonder then her fenfes were in confufion,-no wonder her head reclined upon his breaft,-it was rapture,-the delirium of fentibility.

Mr. Gwas aftonished at the advantage he had gained, he attempted to speak when he thould have acted, and this interruption of blits faved Eliza from ruin.-The inftant of his declaration would have confummated his withes, had he not given the object of them time to recover from the paroxyim of paflion into which his kids had thrown her.

Eliza, though young, well knew, that men afcribe an eafy conqueft lefs to love than promptitude to yield, and this confideration preferved her virtue.-She therefore infifted upon Mr. G- ending his vifit, though, from the raptures he expreffed in return for the trifling favour he received, curiofity and inclination urged her to the experiment of trying how far his gratitude would carry him for more extatic bleffings.

Soon as Mr. G- departed, Eliza re proached her own weakness, for though the did not then know how much a woman lofes with her lover by gratifying his defires, the judged rightly that the kifs given must at leaft have diminished the incitements of novelty, and therefore refolved to stand a siege, and repel highs with indifference.

Mr. G-perceived this at their next meet. ing, and determined to turn her own weapons upon herself-Eliza looked indifferent,―he cool,-she avoided him,—he addreffed other women..

This conduct mortified Eliza.-Lord J. R. came into the assembly where fhe and her over were carrying on the farce. She joined his lordship to vex Mr. G-, and the young nobleman mistaking her conduct for advances, refolved to avail himself of his fuppofed discovery.

Eliza was the next day walking in the garden of the duchefs of D-, when a female fervant delivered her a letter.---It was from 'ord J. R. She retired into an arbour to read it,---but had scarcely got half thro' the contents, when the writer stood before her.---The fcene was the fame as with Mr. G---, but with this difference, that the young nobleman, having more experience, remained upon his knees until the beautiful Eliza, overcome by ftruggling, and urged by conftitution, yielded, nothing loth, though feemingly reluctant, to the perfec tion of thofe joys which nature inspires, and in fome fituations the utmoft prudence cannot guard against.

THE

Re&itude.

HE confcioufnefs of rectitude is fo delighting to the mind, that if experience did not convince us of the contrary, we must fuppofe the perpetration of evil to be impoffible.

The anxiety and fears which continually torment the guilty mind, prove, that as vir tue is its own reward, fo is vice its ow punishment.

Afk the honeft man from whence proceeds his tranquillity, and he will answer, "I am free from the rankling reflections tha arife from the perpetration of bad actions."

Senfual pleatures are like the rofe, they p'eafe the fenfe, but a thorn lies beneath; and the thorn remains after the flower har toft its fenfe and shed its leaves.

OF