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clothes. With respect to wages, you know I'alaways left that to your own discretion, and your humanity exceeded my utmost expectations; therefore I again leave that matter to yourself. Let me beg, that if you mention this unhappy affair to the young gentleman, it may be with your usdal tenderness. I would willingly impute his fully to the irregularities of youthful passion, rather than to any preineditated scheme. And I doubt not when reason reassumes her throne in bis heart, he will be sorry that everhe attempted to ruin one who was scarce worthy of his notice. I am, madam, with gratitude and respect,
Your affectionate well-wisher:
The lady's answera. Dear Betty,
HILST I lament the conduct of my unhappy child,
list up my eyes-with-thankfulness to that gracious Being who has preserved you from rin. You was left anore. phan under my care; and when I first took you into
my family, it was with a design to promote your interest. Blessed be God, that the precepts which I endeavouredito instill inio, your tender mind, have so far operated on your conduct. Your behaviour in that unhappy affair ought to be laid down as a pattern for all young women to copy after, if they would either be respected in this world, or : enjoy happiness in the next. I have just been reading your letter to my son, and he was filled with the utmost shame and confusion. The truth of your narrative forced his conscience to make a genuine confession of his guilt; and unless I: judge with the partiality of a-mother, he is really a sincere penitent. I laid open to him the nature of his crime, and its aggravating circumstances, arising from the obligations which his elevated rank subjected him to, to be an example of virtue to those in a lower-sphere of life. I told: him, that however trifling such actions might'appear in the eyes of his graceless companions, yet there was a God who beheld his inmost thoughts and would reward or punish him according to his ments. He declares himself fully sensible of his folly, and says he is determined never to attempts any such thing for the future. The bearer will deliver your clothes, together with a.bank.bill of ore hundred pounds
ters whic fact ger pers and whe suit
is a tal the
Be assured of my constant assistance; and may that God who has preserved you in such imminent dangers, be your continual comfort in time, and in eternity !.
I am, your sincere well-wisher.
LETTER CXV... From a gentleman on his travels abroad to his friend in London, on arbitrary power, and Popish: superstition.. Dear Sir, T is now above two years since I left England; and if ! ties of acquiring knowledge. You know when we parted I told you my principal design was to inquire whether the subjects of those countries through which I was to pass. were more happy, in respect to their lives, and enjoyment of their property; than those of Great Britain? or second, whether virtue was more conspicuous in the conductofthose people than in our own at home. With respect to the farst, I need not hesitate one moment in declaring, that the weanest subject in England, or any part of the British dominions. eniovs more real liberty than a Spanish grandee, oc a peer of France. But what I have chiefly in view, is the case of the middling and lower ranks of the people. English courts, both in criminal and civil causes.
of nrocess in the
All matters of law are determined in open court by the judges, who are responsible for their conduct to the people, and all facts are determined by the verdict of twelve men, strangers to both parties, and hindered from speaking with any person during the trial. How different is the case here and in the other countries through which I have travelled! when a person is injured in his property, he commences a suit at a great expense, and after a long train of pleadings on both sides, the determination both of law and fact is. left to the judge, who may possibly be biassed in favour of one party, or which is still worse, may be corrupted. But in criminal prosecutions the unhappy defendant labours, under still more deplorable circumstances. When a man is apprehended on suspicion of murder, or any other capital offence, he is immediately shut up a close prisoner, and the witnesses against him are examined, noi viva voce, but
perhaps a mile distant, and their evidence written at-large in a journal kept for the purpose. All this is done, and even the judgment agreed on by the court, whilst the prisoner is confined in the dungeon. The witnesses are or-dered to attend on another day, when the prisoner is: brought into court ; the evidence is read to him, and thus, for the first time, he knows who are his accusers.
He is then asked if he is guilty of the facts sworn against him; if he confesses, he receives judgment of death; but if he de-nies the whole, or any part, he is immediately put to the torture, where, perhaps, by the extremity of pain, he may be forced to confess crimes he never committed, and after wards suffer death. Again, the property of individuals may be seized by an arbitrary tyrant, to reward the iniquity of a favourite, or gratify the ambition of a mistress. Happy England, where the collager is as secure in the enjoyment of the fruits of his honest industry, as the prince in possession of his revenues on the throne !
I come now to speak of their religion, which triumphs with as much rigour over the mind and conscience, as the civil power over the body. Religion has been justly defined, "A dedication of the whole man to the will of God.” But Popery, so far from answering the above doocriptinn. soome to be a slavish submission to the dictatesofidle uselesspriests, who rule the whartver purpose they please. And indeed there is no great wonder,whenwe consider that auricularconfession puts them in possession of every family secret in their parishes. I am already sufficiently tired with the sight of their follies. The accounts which you have read of the inquisition are far from being exaggerated. I intend to return in an English vessel bound from Marseilles, and from thence hasten to England. -I shall expect a letter from you, to be left with my bank. er at Paris, and remain
His friend's answer.
which the people groan in foreign nations, together with the progress of deism, exhibits to our view a melancholy picture of human nature. Your description reminds me of he says,
that beautiful passage in Addison's letters from Italy, where
They starve in midst of nature's bounty curst,
And in the loaded vineyard die for thirst. These people once enjoyed the same privileges as ourselves, and possibly that time may not be far distant wlien we may be as abject slaves as they. However disagreeable some things may have been to you on your travels, yet
I congratulate you on the happiness of being absent from England in these times of public divisions. Never was our Saviour's words more plainly verified in this country than at present, when there is scarce one family, wherein the most violent dissensions have not happened. An author of no mean rank has asserted, that if ever English liberty is destroyed, it must arise from the people themselves; and that if ever the people should become jealous of the conduct of their representatives in parliament, and those jealousies are well founded, they will soon throw themselves into the arms of arbitrary power.
They'll fly from petty tyrants to the throne.
vice and discord have always procured its ruin. At of the peopic. rauniversal discontent among nine-tenths plain of the conduct of the ministry, happle, not only como far as to impeach the conduct of the house of commons. These complaints are at present carried to an extraordinary height; and where they will end, God only knows. For my own part, I often reflect on it with sorrow, as I am afraid it must at last prove fatal to our excellent constitų. tion, and involve us in those miseries to which the people of other nations are subject.
If I go into a coffee-house, the first thing I hear is a political dispute concerning the conduct of the ministry; and when I happen to be invited to dine at the house of a friend, all social converse is destroyed, and the pleasure I used formerly to enjoy on such occasions is lost in violent altercations
amongst the nearest relations. I am far from condemning all ranks of people. There are many worthy persons, who can view the conduct of each party with impartiality, and see the faults on both sides. They can see, that the ministry have not enough considered themselves the servants of the people, and on many occasions abused the confidence of their sovereign.
On the other hand the; think that the people have carried. their jealousies to an unreasonable height, and insisted on the prince exerting a branch of the regal authority, which in the'erd might prove fata? to themselves. Such is the state of affairs at present in this once happy country; I shall therefore, being tired with the subject, imitate your example, and put an end to this letter. Hoping to see you: soon,
I am yours sincerely,
LETTER CXVII. From a young gentleman, “settled in one of the inns of
court, to a clergyman in the country. Reverend Sir, I as
this place. I have now procured a good set of chambers, and am determined to prosecute my studies with the great. est assiduity. The pious care you always took in my education, whilst I remained in your family, will, I hope, never be forgotten, but continue to operate on the whole of my conduct in life. I am sensible that my situation in London subjects me to a great variety oftemptations, and therefore stand as much in need of your advice as ever.
I am ob. liged by the rules of the society to dine in corde that the studente tror them are not only ignorant of the principles of our holy religion, but also greatly corrupted in their morals. The city itself, as well as the suburbs, present us daily with such tricks and impositions on the unwary, that few would believe the accounts of them unless they were really eye-witnesses. If I walk through some streets in the evening, I am every minute accosted by the most abandoned prostitutes. If I go into other parts, I am well'off if I escape with пу
handkerchief or pocket-book. Nay, so hackneyed are those unhappy. wretches in the paths of iniquity, that they even commit those erimes in the face of open day, and in the most puh. lic thoroughfares; and so dextrous are they in the mystery of their profession, that the most cautious can scarce escape their snares.
If I take a walk into the park, I am not able to distinguish betwixt peers, sharpers, and French barbers; and if I spend an evening in the playhouse, I am obliged to leave my watch at my chambers, lest I should be under the necessity of purchasing another in the morning. You