may

lar may want prudence, the statesman have pride, and the champion ferocity; but shall we prefer to these the low mechanic, who laboriously plods on. through life, without cenfure or ap-. plaufe? We might as well prefer the tame correct paintings of the Flemish. fchool to the erroneous, but fublime ani-. ⚫mations of the Roman pencil.'

Sir,' replied I, your prefent obfervation is just, when there are shining virtues and minute defects; but when it. appears that great vices are oppofed in • the fame mind to as extraordinary virtues, fuch a character deferves contempt.'

6.

• Perhaps, cried he, there may be fome fuch monsters as you describe, of

great vices joined to great virtues; yet in my progrefs through life, I never < yet found one inftance of their existence :

on the contrary, I have ever perceived, that where the mind was capacious, the affections were good. And indeed Providence

5

C

vidence feems kindly our friend in this particular, thus to debilitate the underftanding where the heart is corrupt, and

diminish the power where there is the will to do mifchief. This rule feems to extend even to other animals: the little ← vermin race are ever treacherous, cruel, and cowardly, whilft thofe endowed with ftrength and power are generous, brave, and gentle.'

6

• Thefe obfervations found well,' returned I, and yet it would be eafy this

moment to point out a man," and I fixed whose head

my eye stedfastly upon him,

and heart form a moft deteftable contraft. Ay, Sir,' continued I, raising my voice, and I am glad to have this opportunity of detecting him in the midst of his fancied fecurity. Do you know

6

this, Sir, this pocket-book? Yes, • Sir,' returned he, with a face of impenetrable affurance, that pocket-book is

mine, and I am glad you have found • it. And do you know,' cried I,

• this

this letter? Nay, never falter, man; but look me full in the face: I fay, do you know this letter? That letter, returned he, yes, it was I that wrote that • letter.' And how could you,' faid I, fo bafely, fo ungratefully presume to • write this letter?' And how came

you,' replied he, with looks of unparalleled effrontery, fo bafely to presume to • break open this letter? Don't you know, now, I could hang you all for this? All that I have to do is to fwear at the next justice's that you have been guilty of breaking open the lock of my pocketbook, and fo hang you all up at his

6

door.' This piece of unexpected infolence raised me to fuch a pitch, that I' could scarce govern my paffion.

Un

grateful wretch, begone, and no longer pollute my dwelling with thy baseness. Begone, and never let me fee thee again:

go from my door, and the only punish'ment I wish thee, is an alarmed confcience, which will be a fufficient tormen

tor

tor!' fo faying, I threw him his pocketbook, which he took up with a smile, and shutting the clafps with the utmost.composure, left us, quite astonished at the serenity of his affurance. My wife was particularly enraged that nothing could make him angry, or make him feem ashamed of his villainies: My dear,' cried I, willing to calm those passions that had been raised too high among us, we are not to ⚫ be furprized that bad men want shame; they only blush at being detected in do⚫ing good, but glory in their vices.

• Guilt and Shame, fays the allegory, ⚫ were at first companions, and in the beginning of their journey infeparably kept together. But their union was foon found to be difagreeable and inconvenient to both; Guilt gave Shame fre< quent uneafinefs, and Shame often betrayed the fecret confpiracies of Guilt. After long difagreement, therefore, they at length confented to part for ever.

Guilt

Guilt boldly walked forward alone, to ⚫ overtake Fate, that went before in the

fhape of an executioner: but Shame being naturally timorous, returned back to keep company with Virtue, which, in the beginning of their journey, they had left behind. Thus, my children, after men have travelled through a few stages • in vice, shame forfakes them, and re⚫ turns back to wait upon the few virtues they have still remaining.

CHAP.