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OBSERVATIONS on the CREDIT due to TRAVELLERS reporting marvellous Facts, as to Character and Manners.

By the late Dr. BEATTIE.

(From sir William Forbes's Life of Dr. Beattie.')

WHEN an European arrives in any remote part of the globe, the natives, if they know any thing of his country, will be apt to form no very favourable opinion of his intentions with regard to their liberties; if they know nothing of him they will yet keep aloof, on account of his strange language, complexion, and accoutrements. In either case, he has little chance of understanding their laws, manners, and principles of action, except by a long residence in the country, which would not suit the views of one traveller in five thousand. He therefore picks up a few strange plants and animals, which he may do with little trouble or danger; and at his return to Europe is welcomed by the literati, as a philosophic traveller of most ac corate observation and unquestionable veracity. He describes, perhaps, with tolerable exactness, the soils, plants, and other irrational curiosities of the new country, which procures credit to what he has to say of the people; though his accuracy in describing the material phenomena is no proof of his capacity to explain the moral. One can easily dig to the root of a plant, but it is not so easy to penetrate the motive of an action; and till the motive of an action be known, we are no competent judges of its morality; and in many cases, the motive of an action is not known without a most intimate knowledge of the language and manners of the agent. Our traveller then delivers a few facts of

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the moral kind, which perhaps he does not understand, and from them draws some inferences suitable to the taste of the times, or to a favourite hypothesis. He tells us of a Californian who sold his bed in the morning, and came, with tears in his eyes, to beg it back at night; whence he very wisely infers that the poor Californians are hardly one degree above the brutes in understanding, for that they have neither foresight nor memory sufficient to direct their conduct on the most common occasions of life. In a word, they are quite a different species of animal from the European; and it is a gross mistake to think that all mankind are descended from the same parents. But one need not go so far as to California in quest of men who sacrifice a future good to a present gratification. In the metropolis of Great Britain one may meet with many reputed Christians who would act the same part for the pleasure of carousing half a day in a 'gin-shop. Again, to illustrate the same important truth, that man is a beast, or very little better, we are told of another nation, on the banks of the Orellana, so wonderfully stupid, that they cannot reckon beyond the number three, but point to the hair of the head whenever they would signify a greater number; as if four and four thousand were to them equally inconceivable. But whence' it comes to pass that these people are capable of speech, or of reckoning at all, even so far as to three, is a difficulty, of which our historian attempts not the solution. But till he shall solve it I must beg leave to tell him, that the one half of his tale contradicts the other as effectu-' ally as if he had told us of a people who were so weak as to be incapable of bodily exertion, and yet that he had seen one of them lift a stone of a hundred weight:

flowing ringlets. She bade me not despair : she disclaimed against every other. I gazed, loved, and fondly hoped: but all those marks of affection are, alas! now with her forgotten; and must I own my weakness?-still, every tittle I have in remembrance, every little token I received from her I have preserved.

For mem'ry still, reluctant to depart From the dear spot, once rich in prospects fair,

Bids the fond soul enamour'd linger there, And its least charm is grateful to the heart!"

I often pass the grove, the tree, the bridge, the river, which bear witness to the vows she gave; but to me they have no charms. I pass them now regardless by-save the tribute of a sigh, which bitter remembrance obliges. The wild-rose blooms, but not for me; the waters murmur, but they afford to me no pleasing sensation; the nightingale pours her tale, but not to me; the murmur of the wood-pigeon resounds throughout the grove, but with me all is lost; I have no pleasure in them.

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beautiful and romantic grounds, and lady Theodosia had pointed out different objects worthy of admiration, she took Julia's arm, lowered the tone of her voice, and with a serious air, addressed her.

From what you must have ob.: served to-day, miss De Clifford, you doubtlessly believe you have entered a most disunited family:-and your belief is just; for, alas! I think there can be few more unhappy families in existence!'

Julia was shocked; and said, with ineffable feeling, she was grieved to hear it.'

-And, as you seem to possess real feeling, you will be more so to see it and much I fear, you will often repent becoming an inmate of yonder magnificent castle, where the genius of discord reigns-in the person of my sister. From all strangers (I mean daily, or accidental, visitors), it is my excellent mother's wish to conceal our sorrows: but as you are come to form one of our family, concealment from you would be a vain attempt; and therefore, that you may comprehend every thing you hear, and may know my inestimable mother is blameless, I will give you a brief history of our house; in doing which, perhaps you may acquire some useful information, for, in knowing us all, you may learn to regulate your conduct, to avoid creating enemies for yourself.

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a complete man of the town; and had plunged with avidity into all of libertinism, sanctioned by fashionable dissipation.

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My mother married, at the command of an arbitrary father, without affection, and without dislike. Her heart, lord Delamore might have easily won; for in her bosom I have often perceived are the seeds of dormant affection, which a little kindness would awaken, and teach to glow: although the neglect she at first, and the often harsh and contemptuous treatment she has since, experienced, might not only have indelib'y fixed her indifference, but awakened resentment and hatred;-but these are inmates not to be found in the bøsom of my mother, who has ever been the meek, submissive, uncomplaining, suffering, model of excelfence, as a wife..... Why not say truth, at once?-In every way, she is perfection.....

detains him a short time there), Delamore castle has been his constant residence; and during this period, yon white house, peeping from amid that Unhappily for his wife,,and off-lofty wood, has been the habitation spring, he found, among the aban- of Mrs. Monk. doned of our sex, a Mrs. Monk ;a woman who so entirely fascinated him, that serious apprehensions were entertained by his family that he would be so disgracefully infatuated as to marry her. My father was, and is, a most enthusiastic admirer of female beauty. His uncles and sister dared not to advise him; but, availing themselves of this admiration, contrived to let him see my mother, lady Emily Stanmore, then not fifteen, who was still secluded, by a rigid father, with her governess, to complete the plan of education he had formed for her, and her two sisters before her, ladies Ennerdale and Horatio Fitzroy. The budding beauty of lady Emily, you can readily believe, was transcendent: my father, in one interview, felt its magic; and, as his family hoped, fell distractedly in love, and instantly resolved this new fascinator should be his wife. Luckily for this determination, my grandfather Ashgrove approved the match for his mere child, who was told she must marry this very young, and very handsome, lord; and, ere she knew she had a heart, her hand was given to a man not capable of long appreciating her matchless merit.

My mother's mind was too sublimated for my father's. Her exalted virtues were not (I suppose) to his taste: again he sought out a being congenial to him; and Mrs. Monk was reinstated in his favour. As time stole on, he became disgusted with the metropolis; and for these last six years (except when parliamentary business calls hina to town, and a love of mixing in society, solely composed of nobility,

It was the interest of Mrs. Monk totally to destroy my father's affection for my mother: but in this attempt she could not effectually succeed; for, even when he treated her most unkindly, his eulogiums upon her beauty, her understanding, and sweetness of disposition, to every one he mentioned his wife to, still sounded like the language of ardent love; and when he openly forscok her, and went with the vile Monk to make the tour of Italy, he took French leave of his mistress at Rome, and almost flew back to England, upon reading in a newspaper of my mother's being indisposed. Monk failed in entirely banishing his wife from my father's heart, she resolved, in vergeance, to make her wretched.In this, alas! she has too fatally succeeded!

But as

At first, the specious fiend be- ' gan her project by introducing jea

lousy into my father's too susceptible bosom;-working upon him, by constantly citing the indifference of lady Delamore, contrasted with her own fervent attachment; and at length assuring him some other happy man had overcome her ladyship's apathy, and that he had a rival. Roused almost to frensy by this insinuation, my credulous father became an attentive observer; and then madly subscribed to the malicious aspersions of his designing favourite. My angelic mother had now to bear all the rancour of her infatuated husband's jealousy. For years, her every look and action were watched by the distempered eye of suspicion, and the prejudiced one of malice: but so upright, so pure, was my mother's conduct, that not a being could be discovered on whom the possibility of even a suspicion could glance, as favoured by her.

From the moment Selina and St. Orville were capable of any kind of discrimination, my infatuated father (under pretence of fondness leading him to indulge in the company of his children) took them constantly to visit Mrs. Monk, who then resided in Green-street, when this insidious woman exerted all her powers to win their young affections, by every species of indulgence. With Selina, she readily and completely succeeded; but with my noble brother, only until about the period he attained his seventh year, when some visitor at Delamore-house (who knew my father's reprehensible conduct, in taking his children, unknown to my mother, to visit this infamous woman) told St. Orville, not to accompany his father to Mrs. Monk, who was a very bad woman; who told fibs of his amiable mother, and made her very unhappy.' From this moment, it was only by force St. Orville could be dragged into the house of Mrs. Monk; but neither offers of

reward, nor actual punishment, could induce him to receive any kindness from this now, by him, abhorred woman. All her presents he spurned with indignation; bearing, with unshrinking firmness, even the severe chastisement of his exasperated father: with the same inflexible resolution, he concealed the name of his informer; and revealed not, even in the sad moments his feeling heart was agonised in anguish at his father's unkindness, a particle of all the misery he so heroically suffered to his adored mother, lest it should grieve her; but in her presence ever gaily smiling, whilst his bosom was torn by secret sorrow.

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At length, my dear brother was sent to Eaton, where my mother's nephew, lord De Lisle, had been for some months before him, from whom St. Orville learned Mrs. Monk was the mistress of his father. Horror was now added to my brother's griefs; and when, upon the first vacation, he returned home, and my father desired him to attend him to Green-street, St. Orville, in tears, informed lord Delamore, that not even his lordship's commands should, without force, lead him to disgrace himself, by entering the house of his father's mistress-the destroyer of his virtuous, inestimable, lovely mother's happiness.'

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My father made no reply; and Monk, irritated at the noble boy's invincible rectitude, no doubt fed and augmented every particle of resentment my father's breast cherished. During that vacation, Alfred was asked no more to visit Mrs. Monk: he returned to Eaton, and after being some weeks there, and without any previous notice, his allowance was suddenly reduced to one half of what he had been accustomed to 'receive. Poor Alfred was hor ror-struck; for, not aware of this reduction, he unavoidably found him

self in debt, and unable to give where charity or generosity had claims upon him. His honour, his integrity, his benevolence, all were deeply wounded. He would not request a supply from my mother (who has always had unlimited credit up, on my father's banker), or any of his friends, lest it should lead to the discovery of his father's unkindness; but, determined to pay his debts, he formed the heroic resolution (for surely, in a boy of ten years old, it was he roism) of debarring himself of every luxury, every recreation, which boys at school delight in; and refrained from visiting the fruit, cake, or toyshop, for the honourable purpose of paying his debts, and the humane one of continuing a pension to a poor blind woman he had met with at Windsor: while, as he no longer indulged himself in those juvenile gratifications, his pride would not suffer him to partake of them, when offered by others. This change in St. Orville was observed by his companions, who soon suspected he was stinted in money; for having witnessed and partaken of his generosity (his charities were, even then, when possible, under the veil of concealment), no one supposed the change originated in choice; and, being universally beloved, his school-fellows were anxious to share their stores with him :-but Alfred, when he acts from principle, is adamant in firmness, De Lisle, about one year older than my brother, and bound to him by the most ardent ties of friendship, and a strong similitude of disposition, watched attentively on pay-days, and soon discovered poor Alfred's scanty means; and never having much himself to offer, and his little offers being always rejected, wrote off to my uncle Ashgrove, then in America, to tell him, "lord Delamore allowed his dear cousin, St. Orville, no more than a tinker would VOL. XXXVIII.

toil hard to give his son; and that he was sure, from all he had observed, that poor Alfred was as unhappy at home as his dear aunt."

Long before this letter reached lord Ashgrove, St. Orville's vacation sent him home. By his noble forbearance, he had discharged all his debts; and had even exercised his benevolence too. My father, conjecturing that the sudden sequestra tion of St. Orville's allowance must have involved him in difficulties, now craftily offered him a large sum of money, and to restore his allow ance to its primitive state, if he would visit. Mrs. Monk, who was ready to forgive all his past unkindnesses: but St.. Orville steadily refused the golden bait.

"What!" exclaimed his father, "can a boy of honour, through a capricious whim, submit to the disgrace of continuing in debt, and defrauding the industrious of their due?"

"I am not in debt, my lord," St. Orville replied; "although I was so, when it was your lordship's pleasure to diminish your bounty to me."

'My father furiously demanded "Who had assisted him?" St. Or ville answered, "his own principles;" and then recounted all those prin ciples had led him to persevere in. Lord Delamore, without a comment, hastily quitted the room: the subject of Mrs. Monk was never men tioned to him more; his allowance was immediately restored to its ori ginal state; the arrear paid off; and from his mother's subsequent birthday it was doubled: but from that period, Mrs. Monk has ever con tinued his bitter foe; poisoning my father's mind against him, and weakening the affections of lord Delamore for a son whose excellence ought to be the pride, the sunshine, of a tas ther's heart.

'As soon after the receipt of De

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