master of, to be of his family, to educate his son, and to do all that ever should lie in my power for the fere vice of him and his to my life's end, according to fuch powers, trufts, and instructions as I should hereafter receive.

The reader will here make many speeches for me, and without doubt suppose I told my friend, he had retained me with a fortune to add to that which I should have thought myself obliged to by friendship. But as he wase a prudent man, and acted upon rules of life, which were lealt liable to the variation of humour, humour, time, or season, I was contented to be obliged by him in his own way; and believed I should never enter into any alliance which should divert me from pursuing the interests of his family, of which I should hereafter understand myself a mem ber. Sir Ambrose told me, he should lay no injunction upon me, which tshould be inconsistent with any inclination I might have hereafter to change my condition. All. he meant, was in general to insure his family from that pest of great estates, the mercenary men of business who act for them, and in a few years become creditors to their masters in greater sums than half the income of their lands amount to; though it is visible all which gave rife to their wealth was a flight falary, for turning all the rest, both estate and credit of that eltate, to the use of their principals. To this purpose we had a very long conference that evening; the chief point of which was, that his only child Marmaduke was from that hour under my care, and I was engaged to turn all my thoughts to the service of the child in particular, and all the concerns. of the family in general. My most excellent friend was so well fatisfied with my behaviour, that he made me his executor, and guardian to his fon. My own conduct during that time, and my manner of educating his fon Marmaduke to manhood, and the interest I had in him to the time of his death also, with my present conduct towards the numerous descendents of my old friend, will make, possibly, a series of history of common life, as useful as the relations of the more pompous passages in the lives of princes and statesmen. The widow of Sir Ambrose, and the no less worthy relict of Sir Marmaduke, are both living at this time,

I am to let the reader know, that his chief entertainment will arife from what paffes at the tea-table of my Lady Lizard. That lady is now in the forty-fixth year of her age; was married in the beginning of her fixteenth, is blessed with a numerous offspring of each fex, no less than four fons, and five daughters. She was the mother of this large family before she arrived at her thirtieth year; about which time the lost her husband Sir Marmaduke Lizard, a gentleman of great virtue and generofity. He left behind him an improved paternal estate of fix thousand pounds a-year to his eldelt fon, and one year's revenue in ready money as a portion to each younger child. My Lady's Christian name is Aspasia; and as it may give a certain dignity to our flyle to mention her by that name, we beg leave, at difcretion, to say Lady Lizard or Aspasia, according to the matter we shall treat of. When she shall be confulting about her cash, her rents, her household affairs, we will use the more familiar name; and when she is employed in the forming the minds and sentiments of her children, exerting herself in the acts of charity, or speaking of matters of religion or piety, for the elevation of ityle we will use the word Afpafia. Aspasia is a lady of a great understanding and noble spirit. She has passed several years in widow-hood, with that abstinent enjoy. ment of life, which has done honour to her deceased husband, and devolved reputation upon her children. As the has both fons and daughters marriageable, she is visited by many on that account, but by many more for her own merit. As there is no circumstance in human life, which may not directly or indirectly concern a woman thus related, there will abundant matter offer itself from passages in this family, to fupply my readers with diverting, and perhaps useful notices, for their conduct in all. the incidents of human life. Placing money on mortgages, in the funds, upon bottomry, and almost all other ways of improving the fortune of a family, are practised by my Lady Lizard, with the best skill and ad

vice.

The members of this family, their cares, passions, interefts, and diversions, shall be represented from time

to time, as news from the tea table of so accomplished a woman as the intelligent and discreet Lady Lizard.

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No 3.

Saturday, March 14.

Quicquid eft illud, quod fentit, quod fapit, quod vult, quod viget, cælefte & divinum est, eb eamque rem eternum fit neceffe eft..

Cicero.

Whatever that be, which thinks, which understands,. which wills, which acts, it is something celestial and divine, and upon that account, must neceffarily be e ternal.

was giving the.

AM diverted from the account 1 town of my particular concerns, by cafting my eye upon a treatife, which I could not overlook without an inexcuseable negligence, and want of concern for all the civil, as well as religious interests of mankind. This piece has for its title, A discourse of free-thinking occa fioned by the rise and growth of a sect called Free-think. ers. The author very methodically enters upon his argument; and says, "By free-thinking, I mean the use of "the understanding in in endeavouring to find out the "meaning of any proposition whatsoever, in confider"ing the nature of the evidence for or against, and " in judging of it according to the seeming force or " weakness of the evidence." As soon as he has delivered this definition, from which one would expect he did not design to shew a particular inclination for or against any thing before he had considered it, he gives up all titles to the character of a Free-thinker, with the most apparent prejudice against a body of men, whom of all other a good man would be most careful not to

- violate; I mean men in holy orders. Persons who have devoted themselves to the service of God, are venerable to all who fear him; and it is a certain characteristic of a diffolute and ungoverned mind, to rail or speak disrespectfully of them in general. It is certain,

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that in fo great a croud of men some will intrude, who are of tempers very unbecoming their function. But because ambition and avarice are sometimes lodged in that bosom which ought to be the dwelling of sanctity and devotion, must this unreasonable author vilify the whole order? He has not taken the least care to disguise his being an enemy to the persons against whom he writes; nor any where granted, that the institution of religious men to serve at the altar, and instruct such who are not as wife as himself, is at all necessary or defirable; but proceeds, without the least apology, to undermine their credit, and fruftrate their labours. Whatever clergymen, in difputes against each other, have unguardedly uttered, is here recorded in fuch a manner as to affect religion itself, by wrefting concessions to its disadvantage from its own teachers. If this be true, as sure any man that reads the discourse must allow it is; and if religion is the strongest tye of human society; in what manner are we to treat this our common enemy, who promotes the growth of fuch a fect as he calls Free-thinkers? He that should burn a house, and justify the action by asserting he is a free agent, would be more excusable than this author in uttering what he has from the right of a Freethinker. But there are a fet of dry, joyless, dull fellows, who want capacities and talents to make a figure amongst mankind upon benevolent and generous principles, that think to furmount their own natural meanness, by laying offences in the way of such as make it their endeavour to excel upon the received maxims and honeft arts of life. If it were poffible to laugh at so melancholy an affair as what hazards salvation, it would be no unpleasant inquiry, to ask, what fatisfactions they reap, what extraor dinary gratification of sense, or what delicious libertinifm this fect of Free-thinkers enjoy, after getting loose of the laws which confine the paflions of other men? Would it not be a matter of mirth, to find, after all, that the heads of this growing sect are sober wretches, who prate whole evenings over coffee, and have not themselves fire enough to be any further debauchees, than merely in principle ? These sages of iniquity are, it seems, themselves only speculatively wicked, and are contented that all the abandoned young men of the age are kept safe from reflection

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by dabling in their rhapsodies, without tasting the plea✓ sures for which their doctrines leave them unaccountable. Thus do heavy mortals, only to gratify a dry pride of heart, give up the interests of another world, without enlarging their gratifications in this. But it is certain, there are a fort of men that can puzzle truth, but cannot enjoy the fatisfaction of it. This same Free-thinker is a creature unacquainted with the emotions which pofsess great minds when they are turned from religion; and it is apparent, that he is untouched with any such sensation as the rapture of devotion. Whatever one of these scorners many think, they certainly want parts to be devout; and a sense of piety towards heaven, as well as the sense of any thing else, is lively and warm in propor. tion to the faculties of the head and heart. This gentleman may be assured he has not a taste for what he pretends to decry, and the poor man (is certainly more a blockhead than an Atheist. I must repeat, that he wants capacity to relish what true piety is; and he is as capable of writing an heroic poem, as making a fervent pray

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When men are thus low and narrow in their apprehenfions of things, and at the fame time vain, they are naturally led to think every thing they do not understand, not to be understood. Their contradiction to what is urged by others, is a necessary consequence of their incapacity to receive it. The Atheistical fellows who appeared the last age, did not serve the devil for nought, but revelled in excesses suitable to their principles; while in these unhappy days mischief is done for mischief's fake. These Free thinkers, who lead the lives of re-cluse students, for no other purpose but to disturb the sentiments of other men, put me in mind of the monftrous recreation of thefe late wild youths, who, without provocation, had a wantonness of stabbing and defacing those they met with. When such writers as this, who has no Spirit but that of malice, pretend to inform the age; mohocks and cut-throats may well fet up for wits and men of pleasure.

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It will perhaps be expected, that I should produce - some instances of the ill intention of this Free-thinker, - to support the treatment I here give him. In his 52d page he says,

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