No. CXVII.

Manè salutantum totis vomit ædibus undam.

VIRGIL.

Whose portals proud

Each morning vomit out the cringing croud

WARTON.

AMONG the grievances of modern days, much: complained of, but with little hope of redress, is the matter of receiving and paying visits; the number of which, it is generally agreed, "has been increasing, is increased, and ought to be diminished." You meet frequently with people, who will tell you, they are worn to death by visiting; and that what with morning visits, and afternoon visits, dining visits, and supping visits, tea-drinking visits, and card-playing visits, exclusive of balls and concerts, for their parts, they have not an hour to themselves in the four and twenty; but they must go home and dress, or they shall be too late for their visit.

Nor is this complaint, by any means, peculiar to the times in which we have the honour to live. Cowley was out of all patience on the subject above a hundred years ago.

"If we engage (says he) in a large acquaintance, and various familiarities, we set open our gates to the invaders of most of our time: we expose our life to a quotidian ague of frigid impertinences, which would make a wise man tremble to think of."

But, as Cowley was apt to be a little out of humour between whiles, let us hear the honourable, pious, and sweet-tempered Mr. Boyle, who, among the troubles of life, enumerates, as one, "the business of receiving senseless visits, whose continuance, if otherwise unavoidable, is capable, in my opinion, to justify the retiredness of a hermit."

Bishop Jeremy Taylor is clear, that, “men will find it impossible to do any thing greatly good, unless they cut off all superfluous company

and visits.".

If we consult the ladies (as indeed we ought to do upon all occasions), we find it recorded, by Ballard, of the very learned and excellent Mrs. Astell, that "when she saw needless visitors coming, whom she knew to be incapable of conversing on any useful subject, but coming merely for the sake of chat and tattle, she would look out of the window and jestingly tell them (as Cato did Nasica), Mrs. Astell is not at home; and,

in good earnest, kept them out, not suffering such triflers to make inroads upon her more serious hours."

And now what shall we say to these things? For, after all, nothing can be more certain than, whatever learned or unlearned folk may pretend to the contrary, visit we must, or the world will be at an end; we may as well go supercargoes to Botany-bay at once.

Distinction is the parent of perspicuity. Suppose, therefore, we take in order the different sorts of visits above-mentioned, and consider them (as a worthy and valuable author phrases it) "with their roots, reasons, and respects."

And first of the first, namely, morning visits. It is evident that, as things are now regulated amongst us, all visits of business must be made at this season; for we dine late for this very purpose; and no gentleman does any thing after dinner but-drink. In the days of our forefathers, under Elizabeth, and her successor James, it was otherwise; for Bishop Andrews, we are told, entertained hopes of a person who had been guilty of many faults and follies, till, one day, the young man happened unfortunately to call in a morning. Then the good bishop gave him up.

Mrs. Astell herself would not have disdained

to take her share in a little chat and tattle over the tea-table. They may be styled correlatives, and go together as naturally as ham and chickens.

If it be asked, what number of friends it is expedient to collect, in order to make a visit. comfortable, I must confess myself unable to answer the question, so diverse are the opinions. and customs that have prevailed in different ages and countries. Among ourselves, at present, if one were to lay down a general rule, it should be done, perhaps, in these words,―The more, the merrier.

Some years ago, these multitudinous meetings were known by the various names of assemblies, routs, drums, tempests, hurricanes, and earthquakes. If you made a morning visit to a lady, she would tell you very gravely, what a divine rout, a sweet hurricane, or a charming earthquake, she had been at the night before.

To have discussed all these subdivisions of visits, and distinguished properly the nature of each, as considered in itself, would have been an arduous task; from which I find myself happily relieved by the modern very judicious adoption of the term "party," which is what the logicians style an universal, and includes every thing of the kind.

A company of twelve at dinner, with a rein

I

forcement of eighteen at tea and cards, may, believe, be called a small party, which a lady may attend without any assistance from the hair-dresser.

There is one maxim never to be departed from; namely, that the smallness of the house is no objection to the largeness of the party. The reason is, that, as these meetings are chiefly holden in the winter, the company may keep one another warm.

But this will not, in every instance, be the case, after all the care and pains upon earth. For, when the other apartments were full, I have known four persons shut into a closet at Christmas, without fire or candle, playing a rubber by the light of a sepulchral lamp, suspended from the ceiling.

At another time, the butler, opening a cup board to take out the apparatus for the lemonade, with the nice decanters to prevent mischief in case of weak stomachs, found two little misses, whom the lady of the house, ever anxious to promote the happiness of all her friends, had squeezed and pinioned in there, to form a snug party at cribbage.

An accident happened, last winter, at one of these amicable associations, from a contrary cause, where the fluids in the human frame had