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ly well, except in one instance: it puzzled her to conceive why. they fhould be conducted into a bed-chamber! But perhaps (the thought) it was the fashion in London, and fashion is irrefiftible. He philtered the beverage, and JULIA drank sparingly, but not fo her companion he was to attempt the gaining of a difficult poft, and the coward wanted fpirits-It is a tribute paid to Virtue, that, though it be lodged in the poffeffion of but a frail and weak tenement, its spoiler before he attempts to ruin it, muft call to his affiftance the aids of inebriety. At length his eyes glistened, and his cheek glowed-he fratched the hand of JULIA-fed upon it with fury, and devoured it with a tumult of unholy love-if, indeed, he loved JULIA, it was with the fenfations of a tiger.

She started from his embraces, and retreated fome paces from her chair-He followed, and renewed the attack, and JULIA her refiftance he grew ftronger, he grew wilder; his hand was wandering over her charms (where hand never wandered before) and he became furious-JULIA became faint--fhe was yielding--her ten. der frame was exhausted, and the could only fhriek! A fhriek was a new thing in these apartments, and it alarmed a gentleman in the adjoining room, who, with his coat off, a dirty boot on one leg, and his face befmeared with fweat, kicked open the door, and rushed violently into the room, with all the zeal of a man who was to affift the diftreffed--The Officer let go his hold of JULIA, and the threw herself breathlefs upon a chair. The man in difhabille ftared at them both alternately,

now at JULIA, and now at the Officer, and at length broke filence :

"What! force!--Why, thou damnable and filly animal, what dirty bufinefs is this you are engaged in--forcing a woman to your wishes!--To force a woman in any place is a meannefs that no man of honour will stoop to--but to force one here!--in this house! D-m -mn you! you fcoundrel! get out--walk off, or I'll kick you."

We need not be furprised that the Officer was mean enough to take his advice--He looked at the man in dishabille as if he had recollected fomething," and left the room precipitately.

"And now, my angel (faid the gentleman in the boot to JuLIA, taking her by the hand) let us drink a glafs or two, and I dare fay fay we fhall agree better."-"Oh ! Sir! (replied JULIA, clasping her hands and falling on her knees before him)--Have mercy on me! pity me!or you will kill me." ---"Pfhaw, my dear! I never kill quite upon thefe occafions---you will but die at the most.---But, child, you look d-mn'd ferious upon this bufinefs--- Is any thing the matter with you?"-"Oh, Sir! (anfwered JULIA, in tears) I don't know where I am, and I don't know where to go---I am just come to town in the Warwick ftage!" In the Warwick stage!

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What, through Uxbridge ?"... "Yes."--" And was that fellow one of the company?" "Yes.". "Whe--w! And you met a high, wayman, didn't you?" "Yes." "That was me, by G-d!”. Here JULIA fhrieked, terrified at the found of the name; but he, stopped her in good time: "You

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must not be afraid (faid he) for I won't hurt you---don't be furprifed, it's ́d----d vulgar to be furprifed at any thing--Tell me hon eftly, are you virtuous or not that is, are you a maid ??---“ Oh! upon my honour, Sir."--" How came you here then, in company with that fellow?"--"When you took---I mean, Sir, when I loft all my money---he advanced fome for me; and as I had no friends in London, promised to take care of me, and bring me to his mother's, till to-morrow, when I could have finished all my bufinefs.". "Then you are really honeft?"-"As I love Heaven and my father, Sir, I am." "You are a lovely girl, and it is a pity fo fine a woman Should be honeft-But I believe you, and will be your friendnay I will guard you from harmfor, by G-d, I am a man of hon our! and though misfortune and my evil spirit force me fometimes to the highway, I fcorn to do a mean thing.In the first place, as you loft your money, you fhall divide

this purfe with me.--In the next place, you are now in a houfe full of wh-res and fcoundrels---I must leave it myself in a minute, in cafe that fellow fhould have twigg'd me, and I fancy you had better leave it too.---Truft yourself with me, and I will take care of you till morning."---JULIA told him he could not ferve her more agreeably than by carrying her to the inn where the stage and Joe were. That, he faid, was more than he dare do---but he would carry her to a place equally or more fecure. So faying, he returned to his room, to throw off part of his road-drefs, and adjust the rest.

If the reader has any imagination, he will conceive how JULIA'S thoughts were employed in this interval, till they were interrupted by the re-entrance of the young highwayman, who appeared now to be an elegant handsome fellow. He paid the reckoning, and they departed: It was between nine and ten in the evening.

[To be continued.]

For the Columbian Phenix.

THE GENTLEMAN AT LARGE.

No. II.

The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law.

Shakespeare's Romeo & Julici.

THERE are, comparatively, dices which are excited by the

very few, who are not more anxious for the clamorous and indifcriminate applaufe of the vulgar, than for the more filent and judicious approbation of the difcerning. To enjoy the one, nothing is requifite but an unmeaning and ridiculous love of notoriety; to enjoy the other, we must have that fteady veneration for merit, which rifes fuperior to thofe eafy preju

found of titles, and the glitter of wealth. In the firft cafe, we are governed by a foolish vanity; a vanity, which the mad acclamations of a mob will gratify, and the noify admiration of the ignorant will flatter; but in the laft inftance, our anxiety is the result of a virtuous ambition, and is the concomitant of a noble and ele vated mind. We are not fatisfied

with

with a mere name, abftracted from the merit out of which that name has arifen; and we look upon the good opinion of the world rather as an accidental circumftance, than as a neceffary confequence of our worth.

The conditions of this life are fo continually fluctuating, that, unlefs we put ourselves under the control of fome well-tried and uniform principles, our happiness will be extremely uncertain, and we fhall be in conftant danger of lofing it. If we allow our minds to be carried away with falfe ideas of greatness, and fuffer their peace to depend on the approbation of the world, the fingle viciffitude of a day may be fatal to us, and the ill fortune of an hour may place us beyond the reach of hope. Thefe remarks cannot but ftrike every one as juft, who has ever confidered the fubject with any degree of attention. The objects which engage the obfervation of mankind, are not fuch as are worthy of interefting the heart or the understanding. They are merely adventitious, and claim not the remotest alliance with natural or moral excellence. Riches and power; not virtue and magnanim-, ity, dazzle the imaginations of the multitude, call forth their refpect, and extort from them the moft flavish obedience. The moment we lose the one, or are divested of the other, our reputations generally depart with them, as infeparably incident thereto.

If this be the cafe, how neceffary is it, that we fhould fubmit the trial of our merit to a tribupal lefs fallible, and which, from being lefs fufceptible of prejudice, will be more apt to decide with juftice. This tribunal fhould be

the mind, which is most commonly intelligent enough for such an office, and which, if it is not fhamefully abufed or neglected, is competent to the decifion of right and wrong. This tribunal, like all others, muft have certain fixed and established laws, by which it may be enabled to direct its judg ment, and come to a decifion, The first law, by which it fhould regulate itfelf, is that of REASON; which may with propriety be termed the fupreme law of the mind, it carries along with it a kind of legiflative anthority, an omnipotency, which controls every other regulation, and with which the minor laws of the mind muft be confiftent. The fecond law to be confidered, I cannot call by a more appropriate pame, than that of SENTIMENT. This is a fort of compound attribute, and is constituted of reafon, paffion, and fancy.

Thefe three qualities, when blended, form a most happy and benevolent object in the mind, and is entitled to a high authority therein.

It fortunately partakes of three difpofitions, which, if left to themselves, might lead us into fome criminal extreme, but, when mutually corrected and aided by each other, are productive of a virtue, no lefs diftinguished for its fweetness than its temperament.

By the affiftance of these two laws, the mind may be enabled, generally, to afcertain the merit or demerit of an action. Under their right regulation, it may be rendered a fafe and valuable tribunal, to which we may confidently refort, in cafes where the world would give a blind and iniquitous decifion. Perhaps this idea is worthy of an illustration. I will endeavour to give one. It is recarded

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corded of Savage, the poet, that he was once fo strongly actuated by benevolence, that he divided his last guinea with an object whom he thought stood in greater need of it than himself. But this was not all. The person to whom he was thus charitable, had been his greateft poffible enemy. She had perfecuted him in his misfortunes, and was a perjured witness against him, when on trial for a capital offence. Let us fee, refpecting this action, the variance between the judgment of the world, and that of the mind, under the control of thofe laws which I have juft explained. The former, after making a fagacious calculation of the value of a guinea, and the many profitable purposes to which it may be appropriated; after a moft elaborate investigation of the woman's crime, and the poor claim which he had to the compaffion of him whom she had injured; after confidering the pov erty of the donor, and how little he could afford to relieve the diftreffes even of the most worthy object; would gravely pronounce the following fentence: "You, Richard Savage, having arrived at years of legal difcretion, ought to know better than to part with the means of your own relief, for the relief of others. For this, we adjudge you THOUGHTLESS and IMPRUDENT. In the fecond place, you did wrong in giving charity to one, who had been your enemy. For this, we adjudge you WEAK and SPIRITLESS. But, most of all, you did wrong in aiding the neceffities of a wretch, who had forfeited all claim to pity, by committing an atrocious crime. And for this we adjudge you FOOLISH and CONTEMPTIELE."

We will haften from this court of--I had almost faid--justice, and appeal from its decifion, to a tribunal of more liberal inquiry, where the rigour of fevere justice is fweetly tempered with mercy. The court, of which we are now fpeaking, is not fo arbitrary as the former. It confiders itself obliged to conform its judgments to the laws which it has adopted for its own regulation, viz. REASON and SENTIMENT. We will now fuppofe Savage at the bar, the advocates on both fides to have finifhed their pleadings, and the court delivering their judgment. "You, Richard Savage, of the age of legal difcretion, this court of appeal do honourably acquit of any THOUGHTLESSNESS, WEAK

NESS, SPIRITLESSNESS, FOOLISHNESS, and CONTEMPTIBILITY, which the court from which you have appealed, adjudge you guilty of. And, having thoroughly confidered the ACTION for which you are now on trial; and having, ta the best of our ability, applied to it thofe laws, by which we profefs to be directed; do, in our wifdom, adjudge, Ift. That "the parting with the means of your own relief, for the relief of an object," more neceffitous than yourfelf, was an

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IMPRUDENT,

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not a 66 THOUGHTLESS," action. And, for this, we pronounce you CHARITABLE. 2d. That the

giving charity to one who had been your enemy," was not a

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My readers will readily perceive how much better chance a clever fellow has of being acquitted in the court of confcience, than in the court from which it receives appeals. The reafon of all which is, that the former is guided by pure and generous principles, and that the latter is controlled by the meanest and most ignominious precepts that ever were adhered to. In one tribunal a SHYLOCK prefides, with his fcales balanced, and his knife sharp for execution. 'Tis here that the penalty is demanded-----the bond will not fatisfy. In the other a PORTIA fills the chair, who enforces the virtue of humanity, in a ftyle of eloquence that is truly impreffive. In the former, honour, virtue, and truth are regarded-in the latter, avarice and knavery are patronized. A vil lain, therefore, will always pre

fer a trial by the latter, where his selfishness will find a fanctuary, and his hardinefs applaufe. He, who would wish to be fubftantially happy, must act with a reference to the former. He, who would defire to be an accomplished Sharper, must look up with veneration to the latter. In the one cafe, our conduct will be the refult of principles well established, and of reafon, polished and refined by the softness of paffion, and the livelinefs of fancy. We need not go abroad for amusement or advice. Our minds will afford a rich fupply of both. The exercise of our reafon will inftruct us, the indulgence of our paffions will mould us to a becoming tenderness, and the frolicks of our fancy will give us delight. He, who could be unhappy with these resources, is a miracle; but, without them, we are the fport of every viciffitude, and are mere tenants at the will of fortune.

JUNIUS-CONCLUDED.

"WHEN the Editor in quef- challenge, but with certainty of

tion declares, that he defies the writer in The True Briton, or any other man, to fhew him any other letters of Mr. Boyd in The Public Advertifer, in the fame years of those of Junius, except one to Sir Fletcher Norton, which will not be found inferior in ftrength and elegance of diction to the most finished production of Junius's pen,' I would humbly hint to him, that he hurls too bold a defiance, and rifques more than he imagines. There is one man living, who could not only directly meet his

fuccefs---I mean my own brother, who had feveral letters from Mr. Boyd, which were inferted in The Public Advertiser, the mere perufal of which would fhew that Mr. Boyd's compofition, though tolerably adapted to winter wear, like a frieze home-fpun great-coat, is not to be compared to the fuperfine broadcloth of Junius, manufactured from the best Spanish wool, and equally ornamental and ferviceable in all feafons.

"I do not mean to infinuate, because I do not believe, that

the

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