possess their souls as they ought, for no man of spirit knows how terrible a creature he is, till he comes to be provoked.

Don Alonzo, a Spanish nobleman, had a beautiful and virtuous wife, with whom he had lived for some years in great tranquillity. The gentleman, however, was not free from the faults usually imputed to his nation; he was proud, suspicious, and impetuous. He kept a Moor in his house, whom, on a complaint from his lady, he had punished for a small offence with the utmost severity. The slave vowed revenge, and communicated his resolution to one of the lady's women with whom he lived in a criminal way. This creature also hated her mistress, for she feared she was observed by her; she therefore undertook to make Don Alonzo jealous, by insinuating that the gardener was often admitted to his lady in private, and promising to make him an eye-witness of it. proper time agreed on between her and the Morisco, she sent a message to the gardener, that his lady, having some hasty orders to give him, would have him come that moment to her in her chamber, In the mean time she had placed Alonzo privately in an outer room, that he might observe who passed that way. It was not long before he saw the gardener appear. Alonzo had not patience, but, following him into the apartment, struck him at one blow with a dagger to the heart; then dragging his lady by the hair without inquiring farther, he instantly killed her.

At a

Here, he paused, looking on the dead bodies with all the agitations of a dæmon of revenge; when the wench who had occasioned these terrors, distracted with remorse, threw herself at his feet, and in a voice of lamentation, without sense of the VOL. XVI.

S

consequence, repeated all her guilt. Alonzo was overwhelmed with all the violent passions at one instant, and uttered the broken voices and motions of each of them for a moment, till at last he recollected himself enough to end his agony of love, anger, disdain, revenge, and remorse, by murdering the maid, the Moor, and himself.

6

I HAVE lately given a precaution concerning the difficulty in arriving at what ought to be esteemed a fine gentleman.' That character has been long wholly engrossed by well-drest beaux, and men of sense have given up all pretence to it. The highest any of them contend for is the character of a pretty gentleman;' for here the dress may be more careless, and some wit is thought necessary; whereas a fine gentleman is not obliged to converse further than the offering his snuff-box round the room. However, the pretty gentleman must have his airs and though they are not so pompous as those of the other, yet they are so affected, that few who have understanding can bring themselves to be proficients this way, though ever so useful towards being well received; but, if they fail here, they succeed with some difficulty in being allowed

to have much of the gentleman in them. To obtain this epithet, a man of sense must arrive at a certain desire to appear more than is natural to him; but as the world goes, it is fit he should be encouraged in this attempt, since nothing can mend the general taste, but setting the true character in as public a view as the false. This indeed can never be done to the purpose, while the majority is so great on the wrong side; one of a hundred will have the shout against him; but if people of wit would be as zealous to assist old Ironside, as he is to promote them and their interest, a little time would give these things a new turn. However, I will not despair but I shall be able to summon all the good sense in the nation to my assistance, in my ambition to produce a new race of mankind, to take the places of such as have hitherto pretended to engross the fashion. The university scholar shall be called upon to learn his exercise, and frequent mixt company; the military and the travelled man, to read the best authors; the country gentleman, to divide his time, so as, together with the care of his estate, to make an equal progress in learning, and breeding; and when the several candidates think themselves prepared, I shall appoint under officers to examine their qualifications, and, as I am satisfied with their report, give out my passports recommending them to all companies as the Guardian's fine gentlemen.' If my recommendations appear just, I will not doubt but some of the present fine gentlemen will see the necessity of retirement, till they can come abroad with approbation. I have indeed already given out orders in this behalf, and have directed searchers to attend at the inn, where the Oxford and Cambridge coaches stand, and commanded them

to bring any young fellow, of any hopes in the world, directly to my lodgings as soon as he lands, for I will take him though I know I can only make him much of a gentleman;' for, when I have gone thus far, one would think it should be easy to make him a gentleman-like man.' As the world now goes, we have no adequate idea of what is meant by gentlemanly, gentleman-like, or much of a gentleman;' you cannot be cheated at play, but it is certainly done by a very gentleman-like man;' you cannot be deceived in your affairs, but it was done in some gentlemanly manner;' you cannot be wronged in your bed, but all the world will say of him that did the injury, it must be allowed he is very much of a gentleman.' Here is a very pleasant fellow, a correspondent of mine, that puts in for that appellation even to highwaymen. I must confess the gentleman he personates is very apparently such, though I did not look upon that sort of fellow in that light, till he favoured me with his letter, which is as follows:

MR. IRONSIDE,

I HAVE been upon the highway these six years, in the Park, at the Play, at Bath, Tunbridge, Epsom, and at every other place where I could have any prospect of stealing a fortune; but have met with no success, being disappointed either by some of your damned Ironside race, or by old cursed curs, who put more bolts on their doors and bars in their windows than are in Newgate. All that see me own I am a 6 gentleman-like man;" and, whatever rascally things the grave folks say I am guilty of, they themselves acknowledge I am a gentlemanly kind of man,' and in every respect accomplished for running away with a lady. I

have been bred up to no business, am illiterate, have spent the small fortune I had in purchasing favours from the fair sex. The bounty of their purses I have received, as well as the endearments of their persons, but I have gratefully disposed of it among themselves, for I always was a keeper when I was kept. I am fearless in my behaviour, and never fail of putting your bookish sort of fellows, your men of merit, forsooth, out of countenance. I triumph when I see a modest young woman blush at an assembly, or a virgin betrayed into tears at a well-wrought scene in a tragedy. I have long forgot shame, for it proceeds from a consciousness of some defect; and I am, as I told you, a gentlemanly man.'. I never knew any but you musty philosophers applaud blushes, and you yourselves will allow that they are caused, either by some real imperfection, or the apprehension of some defect where there is not any; but for my part I hate mistakes, and shall not suspect myself wrongfully. Such as I am, if you approve of my person, estate and character, I desire you would admit me as a suitor to one of the Lizards, and beg your speedy answer to this; for it is the last time my black coat will bear scouring, or my long wig buckling.

I am, Sir, the fair ladies,

and your humble servant, WILL. BAREFACE.'

Those on the highway, who make a stand with a pistol at your breast (compelled perhaps by necessity, misfortune, or driven out of an honest way of life, to answer the wants of a craving family), are much more excusable than those of their fraternity, who join the conversations of gentlemen, and get into a share of their fortunes without one good art