u. £j/ 
 
 THE 
 
 history 
 
 O F 
 
 CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 f ii?.oolo(x& 
 
H I S T O R Y 
 
 
 
 14 >Xi/ X>£C 
 
 M 
 
 , It, ■*-/ %, 
 
 d'ibfLTcr- ,, VI ~- 
 
 CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 A 
 
 SEQUEL TO LADY JULIA, 
 By Mrs. BROOKE. 
 
 DUBLIN.- 
 
 Printed for Ckamberlaine and Rice, P. WogaV, 
 P. Byrne, H. Colbert, W. M‘Kenzie, J. Moore. 
 
 J. Jones, Grueber, and M : Allister,, 
 
 W. Jones, G. Draper, R. White, 
 
 M,DCC,XC, 
 

 
 Digitized by {he Internet Archive 
 in 2016 with funding from 
 Duke Urwersity Libraries 
 
 
 https://archive.org/details/historyofcharlesOObroo 
 
* 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 To Mrs. S.< 
 
 When i agreed to comply with my dear 
 friend’s requell, of collefling an account 
 of the incidents that have happened in the 
 Mandeville Family, fince thofe unfortu- 
 nate events, which you, (and ail who 
 have hearts,) have grieved for, I had 
 the greatefl; profpeft of accomplifhing the 
 talk better, than I now find I am able to 
 do. 
 
( vi 'I 
 
 My intimacy with Lady Anne Belvilie, 
 m^de me trud to every adiftance her lively 
 wit could give me ; and as The was fo con- 
 ftantly at Belmont, before (lie married 
 Colonel Belvilie, her information mud 
 be authentic ; but her wit and fpirit is 
 turned into another channel ! that flow 
 of humour, which ufed to divert all who 
 heard it, is now wholly employed in en- 
 livening domeftic fcenes! It adorns the 
 mod improved underftanding, and makes 
 her fhine as an amiable wife, and tender 
 mother. 
 
 She frankly told me, that Lady Julia 
 Mandeviile’s death had fo damped her fpi- 
 rit for writing letters, that were fhe now 
 to take up the pen, her dyle would be 
 
 funk 
 
( vii ) 
 
 funk into that of a mere (lory-teller ; that 
 perhaps if (lie fpoke truth, (he mud ov^n 
 (he (hould feel herfelf mortified at this 
 change, as (he was once vain of her epido- 
 lary talents ; yet, (he mud confefs, (lie 
 thought her time and talents were now 
 better employed ; but though (he could 
 not affid me with her pen, (lie would gra- 
 tify me, by giving me all the papers (he 
 could colled, that I might diged them into 
 fuch order, as would enable me to carry 
 on the thread of the dory; and (he would 
 hereafter inform me of thofe fads that were 
 not to be found in thofe manuferipts. 
 
 You fee, therefore, my dear madam, 
 1 am going to fea, without the (kilful pilot 
 1 4 had depended upon! you mud there- 
 fore 
 
C viii ) 
 
 fore excufe the errors, that will unavoid- 
 ably be the confequence. But I flatter my- 
 felf, the defire to obey any command of 
 your’s, will, in fome meafure, compen- 
 fate for the defers of. 
 
 My dear Mrs. S.- 
 Your very affe&ionate Friend, 
 
 Jane P. 
 

 THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 \ To Mifs Kitty Fortescue. 
 
 My deareft friend, 
 
 A H ! with what anguifti do I give that title 
 to any body, but my beloved Julia ! yet I can 
 truly fay, I love you fincerely ; and its giving a 
 relief to my forrOws, to write to you, is a fure 
 proof that I do. — Sorrows, which I would not part 
 with, though I am pleafed to have them foftcned 
 by the tender and fenfible remarks in your kind 
 and fympathizing letter. Ido, believe me, I do 
 try, to the utmofl of my power, to exert every 
 B faculty, 
 
2 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 faculty, and employ ail the arguments, my own 
 reafon, and your better fenfe points out, to en- 
 able me to bear my fad fate as a Chridian ought 1 
 but nature will — nay, it mud feel ; and my 
 heart is too little to contain fo much grief, with- 
 out fometimes overflowing. Never, till now, 
 did I know the pangs of afHi&ion ! I was too 
 young when my parents died, to be fenfible of 
 their lofs ; and have been blefled with fuch 
 friends, that I have never known the want of 
 parental tendernefs. Mod comfortable, indeed, 
 is your reply to my long tale of woe. You allow 
 me to indulge my fond wifhes, in the hope of 
 meeting my dear Julia in a ftate of perfe£t 
 blifs ! — this gives forrow a pillow to red upon t 
 
 We are all in better health, than, confidering 
 our miferable fituation, could have been expell- 
 ed. God is ever merciful ! That fure trud and 
 confidence we repofe in him, has enabled us to 
 endeavour to fweeten the bitter cup, each has 
 drank fo largely of. The heart-dricken parents, 
 feem, indeed, like monuments of woe ; yet, 
 
 with 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 3 
 
 with amazement, Lady Anne Wilmot and my- 
 felf, obferve the fubmiffive fortitude they fhew, 
 till fome accidental occurrence revives emotions 
 too ftrong to be fuppreffed — then, with eyes 
 moidened with furrow, they hadily retire ; as 
 poor Lord Belmont was forced to do, but an 
 hour ago. I hear Lady Anne’s ftep j ihe is com- 
 ing with her wonted goodnefs to foothe me ; or, 
 perhaps, to fteal away one difmal hour, to re- 
 lieve our minds by converfat ion— —were it not 
 for her, I think I mutt have fank into my Julia’s 
 grave, before this time. 
 
 I was midaken, Lady Anne came to tell me, 
 file met my Lord alone, in too penfive a mood ; 
 and has perfuadcd him, it would be of great ufe 
 to my health, if he could prevail upon me to take 
 a ride this fine afternoon. The fweet, amiable 
 man, (not fufpe&ing the defign to amufe him) 
 faid, if I would ride, he would accompany me ; 
 provided, Lady Anne would be fo kind as to 
 amufe Lady Belmont in our abfence. You may 
 be fure I do not hefitate- — it is my mind’s bed: 
 B z cor- 
 
4 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 cordial, to pleafe thole whom my Julia loved. — 
 Oh ! that for their fakes, as well as my own, I 
 could change places with her. — Yet, does not 
 this found prophane and felfifh ? as if murmur- 
 ing at the decrees of Providence, and envying 
 her the joys of heaven ! Indeed, I do not mean 
 either ; but my thoughts were ever wont to out- 
 run my reafon ; ah 1 what wonder they (hould 
 do fo now ? — fhe, who ufed to corre£t thofe 
 thoughts, is gone ! and that reafon is clouded 
 with forrow. Alas ! error muft be the confe- 
 quence, when I am left without my kind and 
 prudent monitor. But I mud now quit my pen, 
 and prepare to attend his Lordfflip. 
 
 IN CONTINUATION. 
 
 Alas ! my dear Kitty, when we rife in the 
 morning, how little do we forefee the anxiety 
 we may have to contend with ere night. Afflic- 
 tion has taught me to moralize ; whilft it has 
 added to my natural inability to write well j 
 therefore, without any farther preface, than 
 
 adoring 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 5 
 
 adoring that divine power, which has this day 
 fhewn fuch mercy to us all, I will relate a ( plain, 
 ‘ unvarnilhed tale,’ which wants no rhetorical 
 ornaments to engage jour attention. 
 
 You remember, I laid down my pen to at- 
 tend my Lord. We took horfe at the little gate 
 of the park — I trembled on obferving his Lord- 
 fhip turn up his eyes to Lady Julia’s chamber 
 window : he fighed heavily, and wiped away the 
 tears, which ran down his venerable cheeks ; 
 anfwering the fervant’s queftion of ‘ which way 
 ‘ his Lordlhip chofe to ride,’ by faying, ‘ afk 
 ‘ Mils Howard, all places are now alike to me.’ 
 I faid the molt fhady was preferable, as the fun 
 was very hot. Worthy George had his leffbn 
 from Lady Anne ; whofe good head, and better 
 heart, had pointed out the route, leaf! likely to 
 meet any body; and not accuftomed to be taken 
 formerly, though a pleafant one. 
 
 We followed George through Ihady lanes, full 
 of melodious chorifters ; whofe harmony muft 
 
 have 
 
6 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 have enlivened any heart, not entirely benumb- • 
 ed with forrow. Indeed it appeared to have 
 forne effect on my Lord ; for he flopped to 
 liflen, and then repeated fix lines out of the 
 Shunamite — c Righteous, and good, art Thou, 
 
 * &c.» We flopped again where the river 'was 
 running in meanders, on the fide of a lovely 
 meadow, to obferve an old houfe which feemed 
 newly, and elegantly repaired. My Lord afked 
 George, who it was now inhabited that ancient 
 manfion ? George replied, ‘ a Mr. Ware, who 
 ‘ had acquired a large fortune in trade, had 
 1 bought the eftate ; that he was a- very worthy 
 ‘ gentleman, and already beloved by the whole 
 
 * village ; to whom he was a blefiiag.” “ Why, 
 
 ‘ furely,’ laid my Lord, * this cannot be Mea- 
 
 * dow-Houfe, we cannot have rode fo far ; it is 
 
 * above fix miles from Belmont.’ On the fer- 
 vont’s replying in the affirmative ; my Lord .aid, 
 
 * chen we will only go to that corner, to take a 
 
 * view of the river, and return home.’ 
 
 As we rode fiowly on, we faw a gentleman at 
 a diftance, which made my Lord turn his horfe 
 
 quick 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 / 
 
 quick about ; when a {hot rook, nearly dead, 
 fluttered up a little way off the ground, and 
 ftartled the horfe : his Lordlhip, being off his 
 guard, was thrown into the river, in the moil 
 rapid part of the ftream. 
 
 Imagine my terrors, for no words can defcribc 
 them : yet I had fenfes enough left to call loudly 
 to George, who immediately jumped off his 
 horfe, and was going to leap into the river, when 
 the gentleman we had obferved before, flew, like 
 a bird, to the water fide; and throwing off his 
 clothes, gave his watch to the fervant, faying, 
 
 * take care of the lady, I can fwim faff, and hope 
 
 * to fave the gentleman j” fo plunged into the 
 river, and in a little time, (though to me it 
 feemed a very long one) he caught my Lord, 
 jufl: as he reached the mill ; , and at length 
 brought him, oh ! joyful light, on the meadow ; 
 and, after holding him up, that he might dif- 
 charge the water he had fwallowed, he bore him 
 in his arms towards the houfe. As he paffed 
 George, he bid him tell the lady the gentleman 
 would foon be well, and defired (he would fol- 
 low 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 P 
 
 low them. George, I believe, faved me from 
 fainting, by his news: for as I was running to- 
 wards the river, I faw blood on the graft, and 
 concluded my Lord was killed. George told me, 
 the blood came from the gentleman’s arm ; which 
 was torn by the mill, juft as be ftretched it, to 
 take hold of him ; but for all that, be did not let 
 him go. My grateful heart fupplicated heav.en, 
 for blelfings on my Lord’s preferver. 
 
 When I fir ft faw him in his walk, I had re- 
 marked a peculiar dignity, and noble, manly 
 port ; but now I fuppofed him fome celeftial be- 
 ing, feat to fave my Lord. 
 
 I walked to the houfe, as fa ft as my trembling 
 limbs would carry me, revolving, in my mind, 
 what melancholy confequences might follow from 
 this accident, though the immediate danger was 
 over. 
 
 A decent female fervant met me with drop* 
 and water, and begged I would lean upon her; 
 
 for 
 
* • CHARLES MANDEVILLE. g 
 
 for fhe faw I could hardly fupport myfelf, and 
 was unable to fpcak. She told me, the gentleman 
 was put into bed, and fo much recovered, as to 
 defire to fee the lady. This account gave a plea- 
 fing relief to my fpirits, and enabled me to 
 quicken, my pace.. 
 
 I found my Lord fitting up in bed, and juft 
 going to drink a glafs of Cyprus wine.— > Emily/ 
 faid he, ‘ that gentleman has faved my life, at the 
 * hazard of his own— tell this to Lady Belmont, 
 
 « and Colonel Mandeville — ” He was proceed- 
 ing, when the gentleman returned ) having been 
 abfent to change his clothes. 
 
 He begged my Lord would not talk much at 
 prefent ; then bowing to me, begged my pardon 5 
 but he believed, from the fweet difpofition my 
 countenance expreffed, lie fhould think, the 
 bed: refpedf he could pay me, was to take care of 
 my father ; therefore he would make no apology 
 for any want of proper attendance, as he had dif- 
 patched his fervants for a_phyfician,_ and a fur- 
 B3 geon,. 
 
10 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 geon, left my patient ftioutd fuffer from igno- 
 rance. He then feit my Lord’s pulfe, and call- 
 ing oil me the fineft pair of blue eyes I ever be- 
 held, laid, with a fmile, as if it were an earneft 
 of plealing news, * the pulfe are now nearly as re- 
 
 * gular as if nothing had happened ; let me in- 
 
 * treat you, madam, to drink this glafsof wine j 
 
 * it will help you to recover your fright.” I 
 obeyed, and felt its glowing warmth revive me ; 
 but foon funk again, by feeing drops of blood on 
 the {heers; my Lord oblerved them at the fame 
 moment, and perceiving they came from the gen- 
 tleman’s gown fleeve, haftily called out. Oh ! 
 
 * fir, I fear you are gready hurt.’ * Only enough 
 
 * to excufe my appearing in fo improper a garb, 
 s as this loole night-gown ; but I will retire, 
 e and foon flop the blood, if you will promife 
 
 * me to repofe here to-night; as reft for a few 
 
 * hours, and then fome proper nou. ilhment, 
 i will be neceflary before you remove.” This 
 was affented to, by my Lord, who repeated his 
 requeft to Mr. Ware, to be caicful of himfelf. 
 Mr. Ware then affced where he fhould fend, to 
 
 prevent 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE- 1 1 
 
 prevent his family’s being uneafy at his abfence ? 
 My Lord, faid, I (hould write a few lines, and 
 difpatch his fervant with them. 
 
 Mr. Ware went away, fending in writing ma- 
 terials diredfly : and I wrote a fhort biliet to my 
 Lady ; to which my Lord added a line or two. 
 He then alked me, if I did not perceive a flrong 
 refembiance in Mr. Ware’s voice, to that of our 
 poor lofl: Harry. I confeffed, it had ftruck me ; 
 but added, there was no refembiance in the face. 
 His Lordihip, weakened by his late accident, 
 could not command himfelf, fo well as he ufually 
 does, but burft into a flood of tears. As I dread- 
 ed the effects of any great emotion at this time,, 
 I changed the fubjedt, and requeued him to lie 
 down, and try to compofe himfelf to reft. He 
 did fo, and fooner than I could have expe&ed,. 
 fell into a found deep. 
 
 I ftole out of the room, to take my letter to 
 George, and found Mr. Ware in the adjoining 
 
 apartment. 
 
i2 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 apartment, who allured me, he would take my 
 place, and watch the gentleman, calling the 
 houfe-keeper to condu£t me into the parlour, and 
 order my fervant to attend me. 
 
 Poor George was tranfported he had fuch good 
 news to carry ; but, ‘ Ah ! madam,’ faid he, 
 
 * the poor gentleman’s arm is fadly hurt, indeed ; 
 ‘ the flefli is torn up to the fhoulder ; and in 
 
 * one place, fo Inuch fo, as to fhew the bone. 
 
 * The coachman and I have bound it up, by his 
 
 * orders, with fome herbs, which he fetched out 
 
 * of his clofet : the doing it, made me fhudder, 
 
 * yet he hardly winched.’ 
 
 I haftened George away, and was alone for 
 two hours ; as the coming of the phyfician and 
 furgeon, made me think it improper to go up 
 flairs. Mercy on me, how did I wifh for judg- 
 ment to a£t right ? — how did I want Lady Anne’s 
 difcreticn to diredl my conduct ? As I was pon- 
 dering what I ought to do, the houfe-keeper came 
 
 tc 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 13 
 
 to inform me, the gentleman was awake, and 
 wanted to fpeak to me. 
 
 I flew op flairs — his Lordfhip faid, < My dear 
 4 Emily, I wifli you would go to Belmont, to 
 e aflure Lady Belmont I am perfe&Iy well, and 
 
 * would go home to-night, but for my promife 
 
 * to Mr. Ware, that I would flay till morning. 
 ‘ The phyfician and furgeon have been here, 
 
 * and both aflure me I have received no injury. 
 4 Indeed, I feel quite well ; but I fear my pre- 
 4 ferver is very bad, and very obflinate ; he will- 
 4 not permit the furgeoij to apply any other 
 4 drefllng to his arm than fome herbs, he brought 
 4 from abroad. He is gone to bed ; and I can 
 
 * fee, plainly, the phyfician thinks ill of him, 
 4 I hope he will mend to-morrow, and that I 
 
 * fliall be fo happy as to leave him better j for 
 
 * I lhall be miferable, if his kindnefs to me 
 4 fhould prove defiru&ive to himfelf ” At this 
 moment, I was called out, and found Lady 
 Anne was come for me. 
 
 Heaven 
 
*4 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Heaven preferve my dear Kitty from ever ex- 
 periencing fuch affe&ing trials, as has lately been 
 the lot of her 
 
 Emily Howard. 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 15 
 
 To Mils Kitty Fortescue. 
 
 Suppofe Emily has long fince introduced me 
 to your acquaintance, by giving you my hiilory ; 
 as young friends make it the criterion of amity, 
 to tell all they know, which they term, increafing 
 joy, and leflening forrow, by decanting (if you 
 will allow the phrafe, it was the firft that occur- 
 red, and I never ftudy) every thought into each 
 others bread, till they overflow with tears of 
 fympathy. I will, therefore, not look upon my- 
 felf as a ftranger ; but lay afide my own flippant 
 pen, and take up the more fober one of your 
 friend, and try to catch her plain unaffe&ed 
 manner, that you may read her words in my 
 hand-writing, as I have inftfted on her going ta 
 bed, to try to compofe her too much agitated 
 fpirits. 
 
 When 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 16 
 
 When I arrived at Meadow Hcufe, I found 
 the dear girl in a fluQuating ftate or mind; 
 doubting the propriety of her remaining there 
 alone, yet unwilling to leave my Lord, though 
 he had requeued her to return. — My arrival, re- 
 moved thefe difficulties. 
 
 We had been made uneafy at Belmont, by 
 their long abfence — minds, that nave been fet to 
 melancholy tones, play the inoft difmal 
 
 tunes — all, privately thought tome misfortune 
 had happened; yet each faid the bell: they could 
 devife, to prove they did not : but as the time 
 paffed on, we grew more impatient, and fervants 
 were fent out different ways One met George ; 
 the found of horfes, brought the alarmed trio to 
 the door. George wifely faid, “ My Lord, and 
 te Mil's Howard, are both well, but do not re- 
 * e turn to-night, fo fent me with this letter.” 
 
 Lady Belmont, with a countenance as pale as 
 a ghoft, took the paper with trembling hands ; 
 
 and 
 
CHARLES MANDEYILLE. 
 
 *7 
 
 and finding herfelf unable to open it, I read aloud 
 Emi'y’s-account, which was as follows. 
 
 ‘ My dear Lady, 
 
 ‘ An angel of a man has faved my Lord from 
 
 * receiving any injury by his horfe’s throwing him 
 ‘ into the river 5 but, as he was thoroughly 
 ‘ wet, you may fuppofe, Mr. Ware took him to 
 ‘ his houfe, and ordered a bed to be warmed, and 
 ‘ has prevailed on his Lordlhip to lie down, 
 
 ‘ whilft his clothes were dried. I am allured, 
 
 ‘ and, indeed, fee every reafon to believe, he 
 ‘ has not met with the lead: hurt by the accident, 
 
 * formidable as it appeared ; but for fear of taking 
 ‘ cold, Mr. Ware has prevailed on him to deep 
 
 * here to-night. I will not detain the fervant, * 
 
 * to add an unnecelfarv line from 
 
 ‘ Your dutiful, and obliged 
 
 ‘ Emily Howard.” 
 
 Then followed, in my Lord’s hand-writing, 
 thefe few lines. 
 
 * My 
 
IS 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ My deareft love, 
 
 * Emily fays true, for I am perfe&ly well, 
 * thanks to Heaven; and Mr. Ware, who has, 
 ( at the hazard of his own life, faved that of 
 ‘ Your ever devoted 
 
 * Belmont.” 
 
 Joy, terror, and grief, fo occupied poor Lady 
 Belmont’s mind, that they denied her the power 
 of fpeech ; but fhc looked fo piteoufly at me, that 
 I plainly read her wifhes, and obeyed them, by 
 ordering the port: chaife to be immediately got 
 ready; faying, My Lord’s gentleman, and my- 
 felf, would go to him with frefh clothes. 
 
 Whilft thefe matters were preparing, I pre- 
 vailed on her Ladyfhip to go to bed, as the anxi- 
 ety of her mind for fome hours, and the agitation 
 this account gave her, made me fear for her 
 health. ;■ * 
 
 Wc 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 19 
 
 We arrived at Meadow Houfe as foon as it was 
 poffible. My Lord was fo well, and fo much re- 
 frefhed by his fleep, that he had got up, and was 
 d refled in a morning gown of Mr. Ware’s. He 
 told me that poor gentleman was the only fuflfe- 
 rer by this accident ; and that his being fo hurt, 
 on his account, had made him lefs reluftant to 
 flay, that he might fee him in the morning; and 
 then he, would return to his dear wife, — He 
 wifhed me to go back dire&ly to her, and take 
 Emily with me. 
 
 We got home by eleven. After feeing Emily 
 in bed, as {he wanted fleep, I rvas going to reft ; 
 but not yet — fate had decreed my thoughts full 
 employment; for before I reached my dreaing- 
 room, I heard a foft, but heavy foot, and my 
 name gently called.- ■ ■ It proved the deje£fcd 
 Colonel MandeyilJe. Conceiving he wanted 
 fome intelligence, I was glad of it, for curiefhy 
 is a great help to difpel grief. I flopped* and he 
 begged my pardon for the interruption,, and per- 
 miffion for a few minutes converfation. 
 
 The 
 
20 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 The moment we entered my dreffing-room, 
 he threw himfelf on a fopha, and burft into a 
 flood of tears. I was amazed, as I had never 
 feen him weep in all our forrows, and began to 
 difperfe his fears for my Lord, when he haftily 
 faid, * Oh 1 Lady Anne, aflifl my diffracted 
 ‘ mind to unfold this myftery ! the watch ! oh! 
 
 * the watch !’ 1 darted, and really be^an to 
 
 fear his brain was difturbed. 
 
 In a few minutes, he compofed himfelf fufEci- 
 ently to fay, ‘Soon after you went, George came 
 
 * into the parlour, afking leave to go dire£tly 
 ‘ back to Meadow Houfe, for that Air. Ware, 
 ‘ juft as he leaped into the river, gave him the 
 « watch he then held in his hand; and with a 
 
 * remarkable earned look, bid him take care of 
 it, and give it him fafe again-; but, faid 
 
 ‘ George, the fright I was in for my Lord, and 
 ‘ the helping to affiit poor Mr. Ware afterwards, 
 
 * pu‘ t our of tny head ; pray let me carry it di- 
 
 * ref ! y ; for can 1 do too much for one that has 
 ‘ ic. . ed my Lot a ? 
 
 ‘It 
 
CHARLES MANDEV 1 LLE. 21 
 
 ‘ It is too late, laid I ; I will take care of it to- 
 
 * night, and you (hall go with it early in the 
 ‘ morning. 
 
 ‘ George retired, leaving the watch on the 
 
 * table ; I foon after took it up to look at the 
 ‘ hour; the feal catched in my ruffle ; and as I 
 ‘ was difengaging it, the arms caught my eye. — 
 
 ‘ Oh! my good God, what fhall I think? it 
 
 * is the very feal I gave my poor boy Chafes, 
 
 ‘ with our arms and creft ; nay, it is, •■er;ly 
 
 * believe, the fame watch I gave him ; but the 
 ‘ feal I am pontive is the fame. 
 
 ‘ He was loft in the Victory ! my partial fond- 
 ( nefs for my ever to be lamented Harry, made 
 
 * me too foon forget my Charles ! Righteous Hea- 
 ‘ ven ! I have been juftly punifhed for my 
 
 * faults !’ — «— 
 
 Here he flopped ; forrow left him only the 
 power of fighs to exprefs his feelings ! 
 
 I was 
 
22 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 I was much aftonifhed— after a moment’s re- 
 flexion, told him, Mr. Ware could doubtlefs 
 give fome light into this ftrange affair ; but that 
 I feared he was very ill, with the hurt he had re- 
 ceived 5 and then I related all that had paffed at 
 Meadow Houfe, and what I had heard from 
 Emily. 
 
 I 
 
 The Colonel rofe, lifted his hands and eyes to 
 heaven, and withdrew in filence. 
 
 I went to bed, but not to reft ; however I was 
 refrelhed, and rofe early, and went to Emily ; 
 who 1 found had not been able to fleep, and had 
 a violent head ach ; faid fhe was going to rife, for 
 flic mull: finifh a letter to you, time enough for 
 the poll:. I told her I would do that, if flie would 
 try to fleep an hour or two. 
 
 ‘ Will you be fo good,, my dear Lady Anne ? 
 e my letter lies on the table, read if, for I have 
 f no fecrets I want to hide from you, and add 
 * what you think proper.’ 
 
 I looked 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 23 
 
 I looked ever her lines, and when I came to 
 < the dignity of air and manner, and fine blue 
 ‘ eyes,’ I cad my eyes archly on her’s. She 
 blulhed, and looked down. This, with fome 
 few things fhe had faid about this fame fixanger, 
 as we returned home, made me fufped the fire 
 of thofe fame fine blue eyes had kindled a lpark 
 in her tender heart, and might raife an unufual 
 flame, in a bread that had hitherto feh only the 
 more gentle warmth of friendfhip ; but to con- 
 fefs the truth, I do not wifli for more love feenes 
 at Belmont, left they fhould only be tragic ones, 
 fo changed the fubjed ; and when I had prated 
 to her a few minutes, went into the parlour, 
 where I found the anxious Colonel folding a 
 letter; he read me the contents, which, as near- 
 ly as I can recoiled, were as follow — — 
 
 * Pardon, fir, the diftreffing anxiety cf an 
 * unhappy old man ; I mean not to be imperti- 
 ‘ nent, but the Tea! to your watch, has awakened 
 every feeling : it bears my coat of arms, and 
 creft ; and was once given by me to my fon 
 ' 4 Charles 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 24 
 
 1 Charles Mandeville, who was loft in the Vic- 
 ‘ tory man of war. Perhaps he gave that token 
 ‘ of juvenile (confequently pure) affe&ion to 
 
 * you. Gladly would I wait on the man my dear 
 ‘ boy loved, even if I had not reafon to blefsyou, 
 
 ( for having been the preferver of my greatly ho- 
 
 * nored ^ 'iend ; therefore, as foon as your phy- 
 ‘ ficion thinks company not improper for you, I 
 ‘ mean to pay my refprfts to you, and am, fir, 
 
 ‘ with the moft ardent withes for your recovery, 
 
 ‘ Your’s, &c. 
 
 ‘ Charles Mandeville.’ 
 
 G-or^e immediately fet out with the tvatch and 
 
 O J 
 
 le f w ; the coach had before gone for my Lord ; 
 _,ady Belmont was retired to her room ; and I 
 began to have a 1 ; tie leilure o indulge my own 
 thoughts. My imagination, MRe a ventilator in 
 a window, is L. ever going round ; and it often 
 brings back the hoi rors part, ar.d as often pre- 
 ferns me with pica ling hope for the future, by 
 thinking with joy on my own dear Colonel. 
 
 Colonel 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 25 
 
 Colonel Mandeville faid he would walk a 
 could guefs where) to feed his forrows, when a 
 meffenger arrived from London with a letter, 
 defiring him inflantly to fet off to fee a dying 
 friend, and intreating him not to delay a mo- 
 ment. He requeued I would fend the letter di- 
 redliy to him, but hoped to be again at Belmont, 
 in four or five days at farthefl. 
 
 Emily’s maid informs me her miflrefs is awake, 
 and much better. The poll-man flays, fo I will 
 clofe this hiftory, rather than letter, by alluring 
 you, 
 
 I am, madam. 
 
 Your, See. 
 
 Ann’£ aVilmott. 
 
 C 
 
 To 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 26 
 
 To Colonel Bellville. 
 
 I DO not remcnftrate, and diflemble as I 
 fhould have done a few months part, when my 
 fpirits were more blithe ; but either won by your 
 merit, or betrayed by my own heart, I give up 
 the point, and fairly own, I cannot contradift 
 the force of your arguments ; fo confefs, I wifh 
 t o fee you here, and to accompany you to Lady 
 Mary, in order to expedite my niece, Bell Haf- 
 tings’ happinefs; that when the neceffary appear- 
 ance in a court of juflice is over, nothing may 
 remain to delay the match ; for fince the late 
 deplorable fcenes here, I muft ever fear for lo- 
 vers, till their hands, as well as hearts, are 
 united. 
 
 A little 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 27 
 
 A little funfhine feems to gleam upon Belmont : 
 may gracious Heaven grant it may difiipate the 
 black cloud which has fo long enveloped us ! 
 
 I am willing to give you hopes of meeting 
 us lets difmal. — My Lord’s fafe return (after the 
 tremendous accident my lad informed you of) 
 gave Lady Belmont more tranfport than I ever 
 expedited to fee her feel. 
 
 Emily flew down (lairs to welcome him, and 
 then with her ferious, innocent, and artlefs look, 
 eagerly afked — c How is Mr. Ware?’ He an- 
 fwered, very gravely — 4 Very ill, I fear !’ 
 Down went Emily’s eyes, whilfl her ears lidened 
 eagerly to my Lord, who went on, faying, ‘ He 
 e adds to my apprehenfions for him, by his ob- 
 
 * flinacy, for he will not permit his arm to be 
 
 * drefled with any thing but thofe herbs ; and 
 
 * told me this morning, he had known that ap- 
 
 * plication effect greater cures than this would 
 
 * be, in two days, yet he cannot dir his arm at 
 1 all. He a(ked for you, Emily, and is very 
 
o 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * uneafy about a watch, which he fays he values 
 4 above all other treafures ; I concluded there* 
 4 fore he was delirious, fo left his bed-fide. 
 
 4 He is immoderately fond of a wonderfully 
 x pretty little girl.’ (Emily coloured ; ha ! ha ! 
 thought I, fo he is married.) < The child is very 
 4 young, and though it prates faff, can hardly 
 ‘ be underflood t it is fo beautiful, I thought on 
 
 * what once was — — ’ 
 
 My Lord fighed, and paufed, but foon reco- 
 vered from his agitation; then proceeding faid, 
 
 4 My benefadtor is a foreigner, I believe ; for 
 4 though he fpeaks Englifh better than mofl peo- 
 4 pie do, who have not learned it young ; yet 
 ‘ he fpeaks it (lowly, and with he (nation. I 
 
 * find he has not been long in England ; howc- 
 4 ver, let him be of what country he may, his 
 4 manners are agreeable ; his converfation difeo- 
 4 vers fenfe and good-nature ; and there is a 
 4 remarkable grandeur in his deportment, that 
 4 proves him to be a man of confequence. 
 
 4 Juft 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 23 
 
 c Tuft as I left his room, having ordered my 
 ‘ coach to the door, I perceived a neat equipage,. 
 
 * that would not let my carriage drive up. A 
 
 * gentleman got out, and having enquired of 
 
 * my fervants who they belonged to, approach- 
 
 * ed me with great refpedl, faying, I was very 
 
 * kind indeed, thus to honor his friend, in his 
 
 * folitary ft ate. He feemed much fhocked at 
 ‘ hearing he was ill ; faid he was the mildeft, 
 ‘ braveft, and honefteft man he had ever known. 
 
 * After a little difcourfe, I found I was talking 
 ‘ then to Mr. Ware, the owner of the feat ; and 
 - ‘ that my preferver’s name was Woodville. 
 
 ‘ Air. Ware faid, he had brought him very 
 
 * good news; for that two fhips, laden with 
 
 * immenfe treafures, were fafe in the Downs. 
 
 * Mr. Ware begged I would permit him, after 
 c he had feen his friend, to accompany me home ; 
 
 * I allured him, he would confer a much 
 
 * greater obligation on me, by flaying to take 
 
 * ^re of Mr. Woodvill^. 
 
 * To- 
 
3 ° 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * To-morrow 1 intend to pay a vifit to Mr. 
 
 * Ware, and the poor fufferer ; and I wilh, la- 
 ‘ dies, you would accompany me, to wait on 
 ‘ Mrs. Ware, and her filter, who came down 
 1 this morning with Mr. Ware ; as our bed civi- 
 
 * lities are furely due to every inhabitant of that 
 ‘ houfe.’ 
 
 We all afiented. Now if this fame foreigner, 
 with his two fhips full of riches, proves a bache- 
 lor no, that cannot be, for here is a little 
 
 girl. Well, perhaps he may be a widower 
 aye, that is the cafe, to be fure ; it accounts 
 fo well for his mourning- Why then, I think 
 there will be one more bride at Belmont, than 
 your foolilh 
 
 Anne Wilmott; 
 
 To 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 3 1 
 
 To Colonel Bellville. 
 
 O H dear ! oh dear ! I am out of breath with 
 events; they crowd fo faft upon me, I know not 
 where to begin. I with you were here to regu- 
 late my confufed ideas ; but on reflexion, I 
 think its poffible you might encreafe their confu. 
 fion : fo, perhaps, it is better as it is. 
 
 Well, I will try for a little method, and pro- 
 ceed to tell you, that for a few hours we were in 
 quietnefs, when we began to wonder that George 
 was not returned. After dinner, he arrived with 
 a letter to Colonel Mandeville. My Lord en- 
 quired why he had delayed fo long. Take his 
 own ftory 
 
 f I was 
 
3 2 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ I was fhewn up to the gentleman’s room ; 
 ‘ he told me his arm was much eafier, and was 
 c fure it would foon be quite well ; he took the 
 
 * watch, and very obligingly thanked me for the 
 
 * care of it ; he l-;:ked earneflly at it; fighed, 
 
 * and prefled it to his heart. He then opened 
 f the letter; and calling his eyes on the name, 
 
 * his colour went and came ; and he ordered lit— 
 ‘ tie mifs, who was fitting in his lap, to go to 
 ‘ her maid, which the pretty creature did im- 
 
 * mediately; he then read the letter, and fell 
 ‘ into fuch an agony, I thought he was dying: 
 
 * being alone with him, I was fadly frightened, 
 
 * and ventured to ring the bell violently; pre- 
 4 fently in ran the gentleman, who it feems ar- 
 ( rived juft as your Lordfnip went away ; two 
 
 * fervants followed, fo I thought it proper for 
 
 * me to leave the chamber. 
 
 « The two fervants foon came down ; and told 
 
 < me, I was to wait for an anfwer to the letter I 
 « had brought. I thought it long before it came ; 
 
 < but they faid, Mr. Woodville (who, it feems 
 
 « is 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE, 
 
 33 
 
 « is the Tick gentleman, and he that came to- 
 « day is Mr, Ware) was in a ftrange diforder 3 
 1 the fervants whifpered, that by the ftrange 
 1 things he faid, they believed he was out of 
 
 * his fenfes. 
 
 ‘ At laft, Mr. Ware came down, and brought 
 4 me this letter 3 faying, the one I had brought, 
 
 * had difordered his friend fo much, that his arm 
 
 * began to bleed afrefh, and the furgeon found 
 ‘ him much worfe ; but they hoped the fame re- 
 
 4 
 
 * medy that had ferved him before, would be 
 ‘ again effe&ual ; but that he had found much 
 4 difficulty in writing the few lines I was to’carry 
 ‘ home.’ 
 
 George being gone down, my Lord looked at 
 the letter very earneftly — the feal caught his eyes, 
 and excited more furprize. I thought it moft 
 prudent to conceal what Colonel Mandeville had 
 faid about that feal. My Lord declared he never 
 before had felt an inclination to do fo difhonou- 
 rable a thing as breaking the feal of another per- 
 C 3 fon’s 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 34 
 
 fon’s letter ; he then laid it down. I took it, and 
 retiring, wrote a few lines to inform Colonel 
 Mandeville of his Lordlhip’s being returned 
 well; and inclofing this fame letter, dilpatched 
 it by my own fervant to town. 
 
 I was called to prayers, at which all the fer- 
 vants attended; and my Lord returned public 
 thanks for his late great efcape. 
 
 I find myfelf fo fatigued with the various per- 
 turbations I have gone through, that I can only 
 add, that I am more your’s than my owm, 
 
 Anne Wilmott. 
 
 To 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 
 To Mlfs Kitty Fortescue. 
 
 [After repeating mod of what has been found in Lady 
 Anne’s letter, flie goes on to fay,] 
 
 W E all retired to gainfome needful reft ; but 
 (hall I own even to you, my dear friend, that I 
 dreamed of the little girl, and Mr. Woodville’s 
 wife 1 and waked much hurried. 
 
 Has he a wife, I wonder f — ftiould he be un- 
 engaged, I fear your poor Emily’s heart is in 
 danger. I mud confefs, I think I never faw fo 
 pleafing a man ; his voice is fo like poor Harry’s, 
 that it frequently made me ftart ; but he fpeaks 
 flower, and with fome peculiar manner ; but 
 yet, the tone is mufic itfelf — but no more of 
 him — if he has a wife, I hope ftie is as charming 
 as he is. 
 
 We 
 
 ' tri 
 
36 THE HISTORY OE 
 
 We had not quitted the breakfafl: table, xvhen 
 Mr. Herbert came in ; he ftill looks the picture of 
 forrow. Poor Lady Belmont had never feen him 
 before ; fhe could not ftand it long ; I followed 
 herLadyfhip out of the room, and found her al- 
 moft in hyfterics. After giving way to her heart- 
 rending feelings, fhe begged I would prevent my 
 Lord’s expefting her to accompany us in our af- 
 ternoon’s vifit ; for till fhe could better govern 
 herfelf, fhe found her fpirits hurt, by throwing 
 a gloom on the cheerfulnefs of others. 
 
 Mr. Herbert, in refpeft to her Ladyfnip, 
 (whom he perceived his prefence had fo much 
 affedud) would not fray dinner. 
 
 On my Lord’s naming to him, his intention 
 of vifiting his new neighbour this afternoon, Mr. 
 Herbert faid, * He is a very extraordinary cha- 
 
 * rafter ; he arrived twelve days ago, in Air, 
 
 * Ware’s abfence •, who wrote to Mr, Gray, the 
 
 ■ * worthy 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 37 
 
 worthy minifler of the parifli, defiring he would 
 introduce himfelf to Mr. Woodville, without 
 ceremony ; but avoid afking any queftions, as 
 he wifhed at prefent to be retired ; but wanted 
 the acquaintance of 2 worthy divine, to affift 
 him in the courfe of his prefent ftudy. 
 
 * Mr. Gray went the next morning, and was 
 admitted, as foon as he fent in his name ; and 
 has fince told me, he never was fo charmed 
 with any man’s convention and behaviour in 
 his life. 
 
 * He has been with him part of every day 
 fince, and finds his admiration increafe each 
 vifit. He fometirr.es fiays five hours at a time, 
 inftru&ing him in the tenets of our religion, 
 which he was very anxious to underlrand tho- 
 roughly ; telling Mr. Gray, till that neceflary 
 point was gained, it was his choice to be as 
 private as poflible ; he added, that he was born 
 
3 8 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * of Chriftian parents, but had, from his early 
 
 * youth, lived in a land that knew not what was 
 
 * meaned by Chriftianity, nor had they books 
 
 * of any kind to inftrufit them. Yet, Mr. Gray 
 1 fays, he never converfed with any body who 
 
 * had more truly religious fentiments ; a more 
 ‘ honell heart, or more found judgment, which 
 ‘ guided a lively imagination. He feemed to be 
 
 * from nature, what others become from educa- 
 
 * tion ; to be a philofopher, without learning ; 
 
 * a hero without vice ; and his mind to be like a 
 
 * garden, which produceth the fweeteft flowers 
 ‘ without weeds. 
 
 4 His whole delight feems to be in a little girl ; 
 
 * who is to be baptifed, as foon as he believes 
 
 * himfelf fufficiently inftru&ed in religion to ap- 
 4 pear where he ought, to fulfil his own baptifmal 
 4 vow. 
 
 ‘ All 
 
CHARLES MANDEV1LLE. 
 
 39 
 
 All the time that is not fpent with this en- 
 
 * gaging infant, he devotes to ftudy : even in his 
 *' walks, he reads ; for his pocket is always fur- 
 c nifhed with fome ufeful book. His converfa- 
 < tion is lively and entertaining. Mr. Gray’s 
 1 account of him,’ added Mr. Herbert, ‘ has 
 
 * made me much wilh for his acquaintance.’ 
 
 At five o’clock we fet out, all very impatient 
 for a further knowledge of this wonderful man. 
 
 We flopped the coach, on beholding the mod 
 pleafing obje£t I ever faw. On the lawn, which 
 comes up to the parlour window, flood a neat 
 young female fervant, by a tame lamb, dreffed 
 with ribbands and flowers ; and on the ground, 
 fat the lovelieft child that ever I beheld, playing 
 with her equally innocent companion. 
 
 On our alighting, fhe jumped up, and with 
 an angelic fweetnefs, and vivacity ran to me. 
 
 I muft give you an idea of the beautiful crea- 
 ture. — She is juft three years old > fpeaks plainer 
 
 than 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
4 ° 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 than mofl children of that age — is finely formed 
 
 has a lovely fkin — frefh colour — fweetly fmiling 
 blue eyes — beautiful mouth— well fhaped nofe — 
 and foft, fhining dark brown hair ; her cap fell 
 off, as fhe ran to me, as if unwilling to hide 
 cue of thofe pretty curls, which flowed in loofe 
 natural ringlets round her well-turned neck. 
 
 Her drefs was a fort of flays and coat, of fine 
 white calico ; over which, was a gown with.fnort 
 fleeves, of white and filvcr gauze, faflened acrofs 
 the ftomach, with a broad black riband, buckled 
 by a fmall buckle of large brilliants ; black fhoes, 
 clafped with a very large diamond — Altogether, 
 the mofl delightful figure you ever beheld. 
 
 N * 
 
 Think of the little angel running to me, and 
 holding up its pretty arms, faid, ‘ Pay, pay up.’ 
 Indeed I took her up, and looked at her with a 
 tranfport that moiftened my eyes ; which the fweet 
 baby obferving, and thinking there could be but 
 one caufe for tears, flroaked my face, and faid, 
 
 * Don’t cry, papa is better, and fal be well foon. 
 
 Whether 
 
CHARLES MANDEYILLE. 
 
 4: 
 
 Whether Lady Anne envied me the pretty 
 burthen I carried, I cannot fay ; but {he gave me 
 one of her penetrating arch looks ; however, I did 
 not regard her, but carried my young friend in 
 my arms, into the drawing-room ; where we 
 were received by Mr. and Mrs. Ware, and their 
 fitter. Before we were feated, the gentleman en- 
 tered ; looking very pale, and his arm in a fling : 
 the child left me, and ran to its father $ he killed 
 it, and bid the maid take it to walk. 
 
 After the ufual greetings, and civilities were 
 over, the ftranger afked where Colonel Mande- 
 ville was ? 
 
 My Lord informed him. — He figged, and 
 eagerly faid, ‘ When fhall I fee that mod ho- 
 * noured man ?’ 
 
 Lord Belmont looked aftonittiment ; and faid, 
 
 ‘ Forgive me, fir, I do not mean to be imper- 
 ( tinent ; but everything that relates to the man 
 ‘ who preferved my life, mutt be interefting to 
 
 e me — 
 
42 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * me — your impatience to fee a ftranger — the 
 4 agitation I underhand his letter to you occa* 
 
 4 honed — the feal on your reply to that letter ; 
 
 4 have, altogether, excited a curiohty in me* 
 
 4 that I cannot fupprefs.’ 
 
 The gentleman appeared embarrafled ; after 
 a moment’s paufe, he anfwered, 4 My Lord, I 
 4 had determined not to divulge my name or fitu- 
 4 ation to any one, till I had feen Colonel Man* 
 4 deville ; butJE think your Lordfliip’s inter- 
 4 ceffion may be of ufe to plead for me, to an 
 4 injured parent ! and the happy fervice I ren- 
 4 dered you, may help to conceal the errors of — 
 4 Charles Mandeville 1’ 
 
 My Lord ftarted ! 
 
 4 Does your Lordfhip recolleft a young kinf- 
 4 man of that name ? I, my Lord, am that man ; 
 4 happy, or unhappy, as my father and you 
 4 may receive me l’ 
 
 My 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 43 
 
 My Lord, in a tranfport of joy, opened his 
 arms, and embraced him in fpeechlefs rapture : 
 at length, he faid, < Oh, Charles ! welcome to 
 
 * my heart, and fortune !’ 
 
 Mr. Mandeville received my Lord’s carefies 
 with delight, and refpe£t ; faying, ‘ Oh, fir! 
 
 * be my friend ; intercede for me with my o f- 
 ( fended father ! the blelfing of his pardon will 
 
 * atone for many pad fufferings : I have great 
 
 * fears, that my receiving no anfwer to the few 
 
 * lines I fent him, penned in mifery, but fuf- 
 
 * fi'ciently explanatory ; is too plain a proof he 
 
 * does not mean to forgive his erring fon !’ 
 
 * I will anfwer for him,’ faid my Lord, * that 
 ‘ he has not received your letter, and that his 
 
 * joy only can exceed mine ; when I introduce 
 *' to him fo worthy a man in his long loft child !’ 
 Then embracing him again, he added, * May 
 
 * the divine mercy blefs you with mutual enjoy- 
 e ment of this unlooked for h'appinefs !’ 
 
 ‘ His 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 44 
 
 His Lordfhip wept ; and the fpe&ators, who 
 had fat in filent wonder, joined their tears and 
 congratulations : when my Lord faid, ‘ but 
 ‘ pray, fir, let me kifs my pretty coufin, your 
 * fweet infant !’ 
 
 The bel! was rung ; and a fervant entering, 
 was ordered to fetch the little girl. 
 
 Mr. Ware went out, and foon returned (fol- 
 lowed by a fervant with a falver of rich wines), 
 faying, e I know ladies, this is not cutlomary 
 4 before tea; but I think fuch interefling fub- 
 4 je£ts require a more cordial refrefhment.’ He 
 took a glafs, and prefented another to Lord Bel* 
 mont ; requeuing we would all pledge him in 
 drinking a happy meeting to Colonel Mandeville 
 and his fon. Every body followed the example 
 with alacrity; when Mr. Ware, turning to Lord 
 Belmont, faid, he hoped he, and the ladies, 
 would pardon any indecorum in his manner ; and 
 
 remember. 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 4$ 
 
 remember, trade, not politenefs, had been his 
 ftudy — he mud alfo intreat, that any farther dif- 
 courfe on the late intereding fubjeft, might be 
 podponed for the prefent, on account of his 
 friend’s weak date of health ; for though he had 
 recovered alinod miraculoudy, yet a relapfe might 
 be the confequence of too great agitation.’ 
 
 My Lord approved the caution ; and turning 
 to Mr. Mandeville, faid, 4 I hope, fir, you do 
 not feel yourfelf hurt ; affeSed, I fee you are.’ 
 
 4 Oh, my Lord ! I am well ; your kindnefs 
 4 has lightened my heart — it has enabled me to 
 4 look forward with a joy, that I have been long 
 4 a Granger to.’ 
 
 Mr. Ware’s defire was dri&ly adhered to ; 
 though, I dare fay, eaph party longed for more 
 information ; particularly, why all were in 
 mourning ; but the weepers worn by my Lord 
 
 and 
 
v . ■ ^ w 
 
 ifi THE HISTORY OF 
 
 and Mr. Mandeville, fhowed the caufe was too 
 ferious, to admit of any enquiry. 
 
 I have written fo much, I mud now bid you 
 adieu ! 
 
 Emily Howard. 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 4 ? 
 
 To Mifs Kitty Fortescue. 
 
 M Y good girl, you know, or at lead you will, 
 
 I hope one day know, that when the die is caft, 
 and one is termed a bride ele&, anxiety is over ; 
 and one has the greater leifure to obferve other 
 people ; now this being my cafe, I can fee, that 
 Emily fucceeds to my late thoughtful fituation ; 
 however, as I have taken her pen, and ihall be 
 more honeft and minute in my detail than maiden 
 bafhfulnefs would permit her to be, I fhall leave 
 you to make your own comments ; and affent 
 or not, to my opinion, as you fee caufe. 
 
 He (meaning Mr. Mandeville, for I fhall often 
 fay — he — to prevent repetitions ; and, really, 
 there is fuch a noble dignity in his mien and air, 
 one would be apt to think there was no other he ;) 
 
 is 
 
48 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 is a ftriking figure, though not delicately hand- 
 fome. I begin to think, it is well for fomebcdy, 
 that my word was given before I faw this all-con- 
 quering hero, for I fancy I fhould prefer him ; he 
 could fo well entertain me with a world of anec- 
 dotes, that would furnifh a never failing fund of 
 difcourfe — no bad defence againft dull domeftic 
 hours; which, alas! married people muff ex- 
 pert ; for even the bell toned violins are not al- 
 ways in tune. 
 
 I find he has lived many years in a foreign 
 land ; but how, or why he was there, we are yet 
 to learn. — He left the room, for a few minutes, 
 which gave Mr. Ware the opportunity of inform- 
 ing us of this. 
 
 Thefervants entered with tea and coffee ; ana, 
 oh 1 pretty fight, Mr. Mandeville followed, lead- 
 ing his lovely child, holding a draw bafket, filled 
 with toys ; he carried the girl to my Lord, fay- 
 ing, 4 This is my real treafure, though bleft 
 * with an abundance of fortune.’ 
 
 My 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 49 
 
 My Lord affectionately kiffed the child ; a 
 tear of recollection fell down his cheeks ; he 
 wiped it off ; lighed, and riling fuperior to felfifh 
 forrow, faid, with a cheerful air, ‘ It is a lovely 
 
 * infant ; and, unlefs you give me a boy alfo, 
 
 * this pretty creature mull; be our heirefs.’ 
 
 Mr. Mandeville bowed > and fighing, faid he 
 had loft both his fons — this was his only child. 
 
 He then brought her to me, and then to Emily. 
 The pretty innocent wilhed to lit in her lap ; 
 and in her broken language, faid, f how do oo 
 do ? ‘I have brought oo fame pay things.’ 
 
 - The father gave a look of tendernefs, which 
 met a fympathetic fpark in Emily’s eyes ; who, 
 blulhing, hung her head on the child’s face. 
 He faid, « My dear, have you no play things for 
 
 * any body elfe ?’ 
 
 The child anfwered, * Yes, papa and then, 
 as if (he had been infpired, ran to her balket, 
 
 D took 
 
5 ° 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 took out a fmall fillagree horfe, and flew with 
 it to Lord Belmont, faying, • There’s a doold 
 ‘ horfe for oo, pay teep it.’ Again fhe trotted 
 to the bafket, and choofing a bird, brought it 
 to me — ‘ Here’s a pitty bird for oo.’ Again fhe 
 flew to her flore, and came back to Emily, with 
 a fmall, elegant fllver figure, of exquifite work- 
 manfhip — * Here’s a pitty man for oo.' 
 
 Emily took it, and blufhed fcarlet deep on 
 looking at it — but, goddefs of the defcriptive 
 powers affifl: me ! how {hall I paint the joyful 
 father’s countenance, at obferving the toy fhe 
 had chofen for Emily, and the blufhes it had 
 created in her ; for it was an image of himfelf ; 
 executed beyond any thing I ever faw : to heigh- 
 ten poor Emily’s embarrafTment, the child faid, 
 ‘ Pray teep it for my fake.’ 
 
 Emily, with artlefs cheerfulnefs, faid, * I will, 
 * my fweet angel.’ 
 
 The 
 
CHARLES MANDEVJLLE. 
 
 5 1 
 
 The father bowed— ‘ Madam, you make me 
 6 happy ; the poor girl wants a friend, fhe has 
 * chofen one with a judgment fuperior to her 
 ‘ age.* 
 
 Upon my word, I like this public fort of ccurt- 
 fh ip ; it is far more entertaining than the foft 
 nonfenfe generally made ufe of. I have a mind 
 to begin again, and teach my gentleman this new 
 mode of making love. 
 
 My Lord feemed to think it was high time to 
 relieve poor Emily, whofe confufion was too vi- 
 able ; fo he took the image faying, that, it was 
 too rich, and curious a gift for a child to make ; 
 but that he would depofit it in his cabinet of cu- 
 riofities. 
 
 1 thought, I observed his Lordfhip’s fpeech caft 
 a gloom over Mr. Mandeville’s features. 
 
 General chat enfued ; but no one, I find, 
 fays one word of poor Mrs. Ware, and her 
 D 2 fifler.— 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 «2 
 
 Eller. — Well then, they are civil, well-meaning, 
 good fort of women ; neither handfome or plain ; 
 behaved juft as they ought, and played the un- 
 der parts of the drama very well. 
 
 The heat of the room made Mr. Ware propofe 
 a walk,, when tea was over. 
 
 My Lord faid, if the grounds were as much 
 improved as the houfe, fince he had feen them, 
 he fhould be greatly gratified by viewing them ; 
 but that he would firft order the coach, left a 
 late hour fhould give Lady Belmont an unne- 
 ceffary alarm. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville replied, he was glad to hear 
 her Ladyftiip named — his Lordfhip’s drefs had 
 precluded any enquiry after her. 
 
 My Lord fighed bitterly, and fhowed he was 
 much affefited j but conquering himfelf once 
 more, we all rofe, and proceeded to the garden. 
 The gentlemen (according to the abominable 
 
 Angloife 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 53 
 
 Angloife fafhion) foon left us poor women to the 
 dull chat of a female vifit. 
 
 When it was near eight o’clock, the fervants 
 informed us the coach was ready ; the gentlemen 
 were approaching near enough for me to ob- 
 ferve my Lord take off his finger the fine family 
 ring he always wears, and fo highly values* 
 and put it on Mr. Mandeville’s finger. 
 
 Proper civilities ended, we got into the carri- 
 age — every body filent — the women all impatient 
 to hear, but my Lord kept in compofed medita- 
 tion for near half the way ; at length he faid, 
 
 * I have been refle&i ng. Lady Anne, on the 
 
 * wonderful work of Providence in this affair. 
 
 1 My friend never was near fo fond of this fon, 
 
 ‘ as of poor Harry. Charles was as promifing 
 
 * a lad as his brother, but lefs traCtable $ and had 
 
 * a fpirit that would not fubmit to correction. — 
 
 ‘ He ran away from fchool, becaufe, he faid, 
 
 6 he would not be whipped like a dog or a flave. 
 
 s -After 
 
54 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ After this event, we had every reafon to 
 ‘ fuppofe him loft in the Vi&ory. The Colonel’s 
 
 * exceffive fonanefs for his youngeft fon, made 
 
 * him, perhaps, too foon reconcile himfelf to 
 ‘ the lofs of the eldeft ; who, now you fee, is 
 ‘ preferved to comfort and alleviate his forrow, 
 ‘ and be the fupport of his age. 
 
 ‘ Happy Colonel ! I have no child 1’ He pauf- 
 ed — fighed heavily — then, with an animated 
 voice, faid, ‘ Yes, Charles muft be as a fon 
 ‘ to me ; I did not give him life, but he has 
 
 * preferved mine. The little girl too — oh, my 
 
 * Julia ! how like thy tender age. Well, Hea* 
 ‘ ven be praifed, my friends are happier than 
 
 * myfelf !’ 
 
 He ftopped again, and then faid, ‘ I am 
 
 * furpri r ed to find fo fine an underftanding, in a 
 
 * man who can have feen fo little of the world — 
 ‘ can have had fo few advantages ; he has not 
 ‘ even had the common afiiftance of books.’ 
 
 The 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 55 
 
 The coachman drove up the fweep ; my Lady, 
 who had been 'watching anxioufly for her Lord’s 
 fafe return, met us at the drawing-room door. 
 He immediately told her, he had received much 
 fatisfa&ion from his viftt, and hoped he fhould 
 make her partake of it — adding, 4 This day. has 
 
 * given pleafure, even to me !’ 
 
 Lady Belmont ftghed, and faid fhe was glad to 
 hear it. 
 
 4 Do you not,’ faid my Lord, * recoiled! Char- 
 4 les Mandeville ?’ 
 
 * To be fure I do ; he was always my favorite, 
 
 * though not his father’s ; the child, too, was 
 
 * much fonder of me than his brother was : poor 
 4 fellow, why mention him now ?’ 
 
 4 In order to give your Ladylhip the pleafure 
 
 * of hearing, this loft boy — this beloved Charles, 
 
 * was the preferver of my life, at the hazard of 
 4 his own. He really is the agreeable man Mr. 
 
 4 Herbert 
 

 56 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ Herbs. t defcribed this morning, Mr. Ware 
 
 * brirgs him to-morrow, with his only child, a 
 9 very beautiful little girl, to pay his refpe£ts to 
 
 * your Ladyfhip.’ 
 
 * Is is poffible ?’ faid Lady Belmont. * Do I 
 ‘ owe my deareft Lord’s life to that fweet boy? 
 
 * Blefs him, gracious Heaven ! How fhall I love 
 ‘ and thank him ? Is he quite recovered?’ 
 
 ‘ Almofl ; and entirely by the ufe of thofe 
 ' herbs he brought from a diftant country, in 
 
 * which he lived fo long ; he feems very partial 
 ‘to it; he will not allow it to be uncivilized, 
 
 * becaufe tainted with no vice. — Its natives give 
 
 * way to the natural dilates of benevolence. 
 
 ‘ He means to fpend fome time with us at 
 
 * Belmont.’ (Here Emily’s eyes brightened.) 
 « So as this houfe caufed the Colonel’s affli&ion, 
 
 * here I hope to heal his forrows, by reftoring 
 
 * to him a long loft fon. — A fine fellow too, is 
 ‘ well made — has the air of a monarch — natu- 
 
 ( rally 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 57. 
 
 ‘ rally well complexioned, but now rather fun- 
 
 * burnt ; but his features are fo agreeable, one 
 ‘ does not mind his fkin ; he has fine teeth, a 
 1 pleafing mouth, a good nofe, and very fine 
 
 * intelligent eyes. His afped befpeaks courage 
 i and humanity $ I confefs, I am much pleafed 
 £ with him. — I begin to think I have erred, in 
 
 * fuppofing it neceffary to take fo much pains 
 
 * to educate a young man. 
 
 ‘ Here is one, who has no claffical knowledge 
 4 — has not been taught the Graces ; and yet, 
 
 1 one can difcover no deficiency either in his 
 *' converfation, or his manner/. 
 
 I joined in his praifesj with imy ufual warmth. 
 Emily faid little, but in that little, it was eafy 
 to difcover her opinion was as much in his favor, 
 at lead, as thofe who had fpoken more copi»- 
 oufly. 
 
 I was called out, and learned my fervant had 
 returned in our abfence with the letter I had fent 
 D3 to 
 
58 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 to Colonel Mandeville; hearing in town, that 
 the Colonel had not flopped longer at his own 
 houfe than was necefiary to change horfes ; but 
 had gone to his fick friend, with all pofftblc ex- 
 pedition ; and had left word, that he fhould not 
 return through London, but be at Belmont in a 
 few days. 
 
 Poor agitated man ! he had forgotten to order 
 the letter, he had defired me to fend after him, 
 fhould be forwarded to his friend’s houfe ; fo my 
 fervant thought it better to bring it back to me. 
 
 As I hate concealments — alas, have they not 
 been fatal to this family ! — and faw no reafon for 
 keeping Lord Belmont a flranger now, to the ftory 
 of the watch, I returned to the drawing-room, 
 with the packet in my hand ; and informed them 
 of that tranfa£!ion ; adding, that as the event 
 was fo doubtful, I thought it more prudent not to 
 agitate his Lordfhip’s mind, by furmifes, that 
 might prove falfe. 
 
 My 
 
CHARLES. MANDEVILLE. 59 
 
 My Lord kindly laid, ‘ Confiderate Lady 
 f Anne !’ There, who could have thought I 
 fliould have ever deferved that epithet ? 
 
 We talked the red: of the evening, with a 
 cheerfulnefs that has long been banilhed from our 
 converfation in this houfe ; and Lady Belmont 
 went to her apartment with a livelier afpedt than 
 ihe has had fince her heavy afHidtion. 
 
 Ho w amiable does her mind, and my Lord’s 
 appear on this occafion;. thus fharing in the joy 
 which others have — on a fubjeT too, from which 
 they are for ever precluded knowing joy ; for, 
 alas 1 there can -never be another Lady Julia! 
 Adieu ! 
 
6o THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To Lady Anne Wilmott. 
 
 At laft, the difagreeable bufinefs is finifhcd — 
 difagreeable, becanfe it has detained me from 
 the beft beloved of my heart ! — May I not hope, 
 that as the time of meeting draws near, you, alfo, 
 feel an increafe of impatience ? 
 
 I have executed your Ladyfhip’s orders, in re- 
 gard to Mifs Haftings ; and, I flatter myfelf, 
 in a manner that will gain the approbation of 
 the moft generous of female hearts ! 
 
 In 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 61 
 
 In a few days then, I truft to receive the bright 
 reward of my long fuffering ; reading in your 
 animated countenance, that you {bare in the 
 happinefs that our meeting will give 
 Your faithful 
 
 Edward Belville, 
 
62 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To Mr. Herbert. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 T HOUGH flocked with a tolerable fhare 
 of levity, yet, when I give my feelings time to 
 operate, I love to endeavour to alleviate the fuf- 
 ferings of others : accept this eulogy on myfelf, 
 as an apology for the liberty I take in writing to 
 you ; as I am convinced, your knowing that the 
 happy event in this family, has foftened their fore 
 affliflion, will tooth your grief for the lofs of your 
 friend — —a true friend he was to every body, 
 except himfelf. But to my fubje£t. — You have 
 heard the preface to my tale. 
 
 This day we expeSed Mr. Mandeville, to din- 
 ner; but, at two o’clock, came Mr. Ware 
 alone ; he immediately calmed our fears for his 
 friend, by alluring us he was very well, and very 
 
 happy j 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 63 
 
 happy and, with a fmiling countenance, pre- 
 fented my Lord with a letter. On obferving that 
 we females were going to retire, and judging, I 
 fuppofe, that as daughters of Eve, we were not 
 wholly without curiofity, he faid, ‘ I am cer- 
 
 * tain there can be no occafion for the ladies’ 
 ‘ abfence ; all here are too much interefted in 
 
 * what concerns Mr. Mandeville, to make con- 
 1 cealment neceffary.’ My Lord then read 
 aloud — ■ 
 
 * Your Lordlhip’s benevolent difpofition, en- 
 
 * fures my pardon for a greater omiffion than de- 
 ‘ ferring, for a few hours, the honor of waiting 
 i on your Lordlhip, and Lady Belmont. I have 
 
 * f^en my father, and am his happy foil, and 
 
 ‘ Your Lordfhip’s 
 
 ( Obedient humble fervant, 
 
 ‘ Charles Mandeville, Jun.’ 
 
 Lord Belmont requeued to hear the particulars 
 of this defirable meeting. 
 
 Mr. 
 
64 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Mr. Ware laid, * I am an early rifer, and 
 
 * was employed in writing a letter to yourLord- 
 ‘ ftiip, by way of cover to fome papers, relative 
 ( to Mr. and Mrs. Mandeville. She, poor wo- 
 ( man, gave them into my hands a few days bc- 
 ( fore her death $ and, in a very affe&ing man- 
 ‘ ner, faid— — ■ 
 
 * If you ever meet with a friend that loves my 
 c Charles, give him thefe papers ; I would not 
 4 trufl: them with him ; knowing his innate mo- 
 4 dcfty would rather fupprefs the truths they tell 
 
 * fo much to his honor ; and would never divulge 
 4 to his friends, that he has been the glory, I 
 1 may almoft fay, the idol of a whole nation, and 
 ‘ of two neighbouring kingdoms.’ 
 
 My Lord eagerly cried out, ‘ Sir, give them 
 
 6 to me — —they are my right 1 claim them 
 
 1 as fuch, as I truly love the man.’ 
 
 Mr. Ware then produced a large packet, and 
 was going to unfeal it. 
 
 • Do 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 65 
 
 * Do not open it now/ faid my Lord; ‘ I 
 
 * will perufe them in my fludy.’ 
 
 Mr. Ware replied, he was only going to take 
 out the letter he had taken the liberty to write ; 
 which was unneceflary now he was himfelf the 
 bearer of them. 
 
 * Oh, pray let me fee your letter, it will affift 
 
 * me, I dare fay, in underftanding the memoirs, 
 
 * and in forming my judgment. — I beg you will 
 
 * proceed with a relation of the affe&ing inter- 
 
 * vi.w.’ 
 
 Mr. Ware prefented the packet, unopened, 
 and faid, ‘ Jud as I had fealed my letter, Mr. 
 ‘ Mandevilie entered, faying, he hoped he had 
 ‘ not detained me from breakfaft ; but he had 
 ‘ been preparing for a longer expedition than to 
 ‘ Belmont; as he intended fetting off to Lon- 
 ‘ don, the moment he had paid his refpe£ts to 
 c Lady Belmont, in hopes of feeing his father. 
 
 * Wc 
 
66 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘We had more difcourfe, and I, by degrees, 
 
 * unfolded to him the misfortunes in his family ; 
 
 ‘ which I had learned laft night from Mr Gray, 
 
 * who called foon after your Lordftiip went, and 
 ‘ did not fee Mr. Mandeville ; as I had pre- 
 ‘ vailed on him to go to bed, after the agitation 
 ‘ his mind had been in. 
 
 ‘ I thought it right to inform him of thofe 
 
 * particulars, left by fome painful queftions, he 
 
 * might diftrefs a fond parent.’ 
 
 Mr. Ware proceeded, without feeming to ob- 
 ferve the uneafinefs his difcourfe occaf.oned 
 here. 
 
 * I was reafoning him into compofure, when 
 
 < we heard a carriage ftop. The lervant enquir- 
 
 < ed for me ; and a gentleman alighted, juft as 
 4 I had reached the hall door ; with an agitated 
 ‘ voice, he faid, ‘ I am glad, fir, to fee you fo 
 ‘ well recovered.’ 
 
 ‘ I told 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 6 / 
 
 * I told him it was my friend that had been 
 ‘ hurt, and that I had not been ilj. 
 
 f Obferving his drefs, it that moment (truck 
 
 * me, he was Colonel Mandeville. 1 led him, 
 
 * therefore, a longer road into the breakfaft- 
 
 * parlour, to give Mr. Mandeville time to re- 
 
 * tire, which I knew he would do, on the ap- 
 
 * proach of company. 
 
 * My fcheme anfwered, for we found the- room 
 
 * empty ; when the gentleman faid, ‘ Pray in- 
 
 * troduce me to the preferver of Lord Belmont’s 
 
 * life, my name is Mandeville.’ — 4 I will look, 
 
 * fir, if he is in the ftudy ; but I fufped he is 
 ‘ walked out.’ 
 
 ‘ I went to my wife, begging of her to haften 
 
 * breakfaff, and leave us, as foon as it was fi- 
 ‘ nilhed. Next, I went to Mr. Mandeville, and 
 
 * requeued I might fend his chocolate to his dref- 
 ‘ fing-room ; as I had a perfon with me about 
 e bufinefs. 
 
 1 I then 
 
68 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ I then returned to the parlour, followed by 
 
 * my wife and the child ; who being accuftomed 
 4 to Grangers, ran up to the newly arrived. 
 
 * Sir, faid I, you have probably come a long 
 
 * way this morning, pleafe to take fome lefrefh- 
 4 ment, whilft they are fearching for my friend. 
 
 ‘ He took up the little girl, faying, 4 This is 
 
 * a lovely child ; mifs, may I kifs you ?’ She 
 4 turned up her fmilingface, and he was fo plea- 
 4 fed with her, that he faid, 4 God blefs you, 
 
 * you are a delightful girl !’ 
 
 4 He eat a bit of roll, and drank a cup of cho- 
 
 * colate ; declining any more, and growing 
 
 * plainly impatient, I looked at my wife, who 
 4 retired with the child. 
 
 « I then turned to Colonel Mandeville, fay- 
 < ing, * The gentleman you enquire for, will 
 ‘ come as foon as I inform him you are here ; 
 ‘ but I chofe you fhould take fome refrefhment 
 
 4 fir ft. 
 
Charles mandeville. 69 
 
 t firft, as he has fome very interefting intelli- 
 « gence for you.— He knows, that a fon of your’s, 
 
 « whom you have fuppofed loft in the Vi&ory, 
 
 4 is alive, and well.’ 
 
 * What do you fay, fir ? Is my Charles Man- 
 4 deville living.’ 
 
 < Yes, fir ; and to convince you, he fent a 
 
 * watch and feal to be fhewn'you when there was 
 
 * an opportunity ; which it feems accident con- 
 4 veyed to you the other night.’ 
 
 * Oh, merciful God ! have I ftill a fon ? Oh, 
 
 * fir ! let me embrace the man who knows my 
 4 Charles !’ 
 
 * I went out to prepare my friend, but I had 
 4 no fooner named his father, than he brufhed 
 
 * by me and flew down flairs with fuch rapidity, 
 
 * that when I had gotten to the parlour, I found 
 
 * his father trembling in an arm chair, and 
 
 * Mr. 
 
7 ° 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 *• Mr. Mandeville on his knees, holding his 
 c hand, and calling loudly for water and drops. 
 
 * At length, the Colonel found utterance for 
 c his raptures, and faid, ‘ I am well, my child, 
 ‘ l am indeed and embracing his fon, filed a 
 ‘ plentiful fiiower of tears. Then turning to 
 ‘ me, { Oh, fir! it was well you had prepared 
 
 * me, or excefs of joy had finiflied what excefs 
 
 * of grief had not done/ 
 
 * The fon was feeling his father’s pulfe, whilfl: 
 
 * the tears ftreamed down his manly cheeks. — 
 ‘ Oh, fir! do you indeed forgive me ?’ 
 
 ‘ Yes, my child ; as truly as I hope to be 
 
 * forgiven/ He then blelfed him, and faid, 
 
 * May you live long, and happily ! Merciful 
 f Heaven 1 how happy am I, when I thought 
 
 * all comfort had fled for ever !’ 
 
 * Mr. Mandeville went haflily out of the room, 
 and returning with the child in his arms, pla- 
 
 ‘ ced 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 7 *- 
 
 * ced it on its knees before the Colonel ; faying, 
 
 ‘ Blefs- this dear infant. too j. {he is mine l’ 
 
 ‘ I blefTed her, before i knew {he was your’s ; 
 ‘ again, I pray to Heaven to pour down bleffings 
 
 * on her}’ and killing it cordially, the poor 
 thing looked frightened, and ftretched out her 
 
 ‘ ^pretty arms to her father. 
 
 * The Colonel faid, * Take it in your lap, 
 
 * and fit before me, that I may gaze with delight 
 
 * orr you both.— -Have you not a fon for me 
 ‘-alio?’ 
 
 ,,, . * . • 
 
 * No, fir, this little darling is all I pof- 
 ‘ fefs.’ 
 
 | * The Colonel, plainly milfaking his mean- 
 
 1 ing, faid, ‘ Child, I have not much ca(h 
 
 * a bout me ; but (taking out his pocket book) 
 
 * here is a hundred pound note for the prefent ; 
 ‘ and [ think I know how to provide for the fu- 
 ‘ ture.’ 
 
 * Mr. 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 7 * 
 
 ‘ Mr. Mandeville took it refpe&fully ; and 
 ' fmiling, faid, ‘ Oh, fir, you mud be fo good 
 
 * as to affift my friend Mr. Ware, in fettling 
 
 * my affairs, for I am but a novice in thefe mat- 
 
 * ters ; and am poffeffcd of more wealth than I 
 
 * know what to do with.’ 
 
 ‘ You are a novice, indeed, child, to fay fo; 
 s but a fhort refidence in England, will foon 
 
 * make you change your opinion ; and find the 
 ‘ elegance and luxury of the prefent age, will 
 
 * require a large (lore of riches. I have heard 
 e of nothing but the arrival of two fhips, im- 
 e menfely freighted, configned to a Mr. Ware. 
 ‘ I hope, fir, you are the fortunate owner of 
 c them.’ 
 
 ‘ I am the man, fir, faid I, they are configned 
 
 * to ; but I am only your fon’s agent ; the cargo 
 
 * is his, and I {hall gain enough by the com- 
 
 * million.’ 
 
 ‘ Give me leave, fir,’ faid Mr. Mandeville, 
 
 * to 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 73 
 
 to entreat you will take this little pocket-book j 
 I believe it contains notes to about twelve thou- 
 fand pounds value > as an earned of our future 
 profperity.’ 
 
 ‘ Oh ! ft is too, too much for an old man ; 
 were it not for the recolle£Uon of my dear 
 Harry, I fhould feel too much joy — but there, 
 my heart mud ever bleed 1 however, no more 
 of thofe thoughts now ; it fecms ungrateful to 
 Providence, who has thus wonderfully bleffed 
 me ! I had determined, within thefe few mi- 
 nutes, to fell my ecmmiffion, to fecure a fup- 
 port for that dear little oneT 
 
 c In fhort, it is impoflible to repeat the ten- 
 demefs which filled their hearts, and over- 
 flowed in their words. 
 
 4 I then mentioned the appointment at Bel- 
 mont ; faying, I imagined it would be more 
 agreeable to them to wait till after dinner ; 
 
 E 4 and 
 
/ 
 
 / 
 
 74 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 « and that I would go and inform your Lordlhip 
 c of this happy meeting, and leave the gentle- 
 ( men to follow in the afternoon.’ 
 
 We all exprefTed our happinefs— -Lady Bel- 
 mont, with her ufual politenefs, thanked Mr. 
 Ware for his attention to her friends. 
 
 I am certain you will receive pleafure in hea- 
 ring a Charles is found, to comfort this family; 
 though he can never be to your heart, fo dear as 
 was the lively engaging Harry ! 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 Asne Wilmott. 
 
 To 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 75 
 
 To Mils Kitty Fortescue. 
 
 I F I N D Emily has given you a copious de- 
 tail of the joyful meeting of the father and fon ; 
 and I have forbidden her to proceed with her ac- 
 count, as, from fome caufe or other, fhe has a 
 violent head-ach ; and, in obedience to my 
 royal orders, is laid down, in hopes to regain 
 
 he/ good looks before the afternoon entre nous , 
 
 I think then, fhe would be forry not to wear her 
 beft face ; and as eafe of mind, and health of 
 body, are all file requires to affift her native 
 charms ; we will try for that delightful rouge 
 
 they can produce Warren’s milk of rofes is 
 
 nothing to it ! 
 
 You fee, therefore, you mull be content with 
 
r 
 
 ?5 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 my pen; or remain ignorant of ten thoufand 
 things, you want to know. 
 
 After dinner, my Lord requeued us females to 
 entertain Mr. Ware, as he was anxious to perufe 
 the papers, before he faw Mr. Mandeville again » 
 fo retired to his {tudyv — I confefs, I wifhed he 
 had ordered me to be of his party. 
 
 At that inftant, the door opened, and my 
 heart leaped to meet its long- loved mafter ! I flew 
 to receive him, and conduct him into another 
 parlour, leaving the company to laugh at me, 
 as I formerly fhould have done at any perfon in 
 the fame foolifh fituation. 
 
 When we had enjoyed a little tete-a-tete, we 
 joined the party in the drawing-room ; and my 
 Belville^aid his compliments, with that grace, 
 which, if you credit my judgment, accompanies 
 all his words and a&ions. 
 
 Pray 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 77 
 
 Pray do not fuppofe that nobody is to be ad- 
 mired and praifed, but this fame Indian Gran- 
 ger l 
 
 Tea over, we went into the garden ; but not till 
 I had ftolen up to Emily ; I found her drefling 
 herfelf with an elegance that fhewed her head was 
 well ; whatever her heart might be ! 
 
 My beloved companion and I, foon preferred 
 a fhady feat •, which neither thought of quitting 
 till hearing voices near us, we looked up, and 
 faw the company approaching, and increafed by 
 my Lord, the Colonel and his fon. 
 
 We immediately joined them, and I prefented 
 Eelville j and taking out of my pocket, the letter 
 I had inclofed to Colonel Mandeville, delivered 
 it to him ; wifhing him joy of the happ^explana- 
 tion. 
 
 * I have joy indeed, oh, Lady Anne, I am 
 ‘ bleffed beyond the power of words to exprefs P 
 
 On 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 On otir return to the houfe, we met the blush- 
 ing Emily ; file paid her proper compliments to 
 the gentlemen, with that fweet timidity, which 
 accompanies all fhe does ; but on this particular 
 occafion, feemed rather more embarrafiing to 
 
 herfelf, than ufual. 
 
 r i 
 
 I watched Mr. Mandevilte’s tell-tale eye' ; 
 and fawthey were brightened with pleafure. Mr. 
 Ware went home before fupper, as his fifter-in- 
 law’s having a bad cold prevented his wife’s 
 accompanying the Colonel and Mr. Mandeville. 
 
 Supper palled over more cheerfully than anj I 
 have feen here for a long time ; and before I 
 retired to my own room, I determined to have 
 fome chat with Emily ; but fhe fpoiled my fcherne 
 ol teazing her a little by her aitlefs nncerity ; for 
 as foon as I remarked that Mr. Mandeville feem- 
 ed to ‘ hang over her’ as Milton fays, * de- 
 f lighted with looks of cordial love fhe with 
 great ingenoufnefs faid, ‘ I confefs, Lady Anne, 
 
 ‘ till I faw Mr. Mandeville, I never formed a 
 
 ‘ wifla 
 
CHARLES MANDEV1LLE. 
 
 79 
 
 e wifh for marriage; but I own with that fince- 
 
 * rity which is due to you ; I fhould be happy to 
 « be united to that amiable man. But my dear 
 
 Madam, be {fill my friend : affitb me to con- 
 
 * quer this too forward partiality for one I know 
 
 * fo little of ; one too, who may have views of 
 
 * a very different nature 1 — I fee my error, teach 
 
 * me to correft it.’ 
 
 I affured her I would, when I found it necef- 
 fary. Her franknefs has more than ever endea- 
 red her to me; and I will a Hi ft her ; more how- 
 ever, according to the real willies of her heart, 
 than her requefl implies. 
 
 I wiftied her a good night ; and fhall do the 
 fame by you.-— For as this is Saturday, we muf! 
 rife early to-morrow, to prepare for church. 
 Adieu ! 
 
 Anne Wilmott, 
 
 To 
 
r 
 
 So THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To Mr. Herbert. 
 
 ' £ OUR polite reply to my lad, indulges 
 me in the very thing I wanted, by finding a 
 channel for my thoughts to flow into ; for they 
 really crowd fo lad, they want room. 
 
 Your absence from this part of the country, 
 juft at this time, therefore, though it deprives 
 you of the pleafure of witnefling feme interefting 
 feenes, is, you fee, very ufefu! to me ; but you 
 mod forgive incoherencies, and inconfidencies ; I 
 was always addi£ted to them : the ftrange events 
 that have happened here within this week (and 
 why fhould I not own the arrival of a certain per- 
 fon, of fome importance to me) have not proved 
 great regulators of my irregular ideas ; and I 
 am but juft able to recclleid, that we all aflem- 
 
 bled 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 8 ». 
 
 bled this morning before church time •, when the 
 little pratler (who arrived betore breakfafi, as did 
 Mr. Mandeville’s fervants, clothes, &c. as this 
 is to be his heme) told us, fhe was to go fome 
 day, to have her face wafiied at church. This 
 her anxious father has told her, to prevent her 
 being frightened at that part of the ceremony, 
 when file is chriftened. 
 
 Suppofe us at the church ; where I never had 
 feen the Colonel fo devout before. — Afionifhnient 
 and pleafure beamed in his face, when the cler- 
 gyman faid, with an audible voice, juft before 
 the thanklgiving, ‘ Charles Mandeville, junior, 
 
 { defires to return moll humble, and hearty 
 * thanks, for his happy return to .his native. 
 « land.—’ 
 
 I am afhamed to fay, I fufpe&ed our new found 
 friend was tinged with methodifm. Thus I fell 
 into the too common error, of thinking a difplay 
 of more religion than appears neceffary, or is 
 cufiomary, is hypocrify : however a converfation 
 
 E 3 
 
 m 
 
in the afternoon, made me fee my fault ; and as 
 a p'inifhment, I own it to you. 
 
 After dinner, as the child was fitting in Lady 
 Belmont’s lap, her Ladyfhip faid to Mr. Man- 
 deville, ‘ I am going to aflc a favour of you, 
 ‘ fir.’ 
 
 * I am pretty fare your Ladyfiiip can afk no- 
 * thing but what will reflect honor upon me, to 
 4 comply with.’ 
 
 4 It is, to be fponfor, when this pretty crea- 
 « ture is made a chriftian.’ 
 
 ‘ I,’ faid the Colonel, ‘ mufl infift on being 
 4 the god father, as my right.’ 
 
 & 
 
 4 Then,’ faid I, ‘ unlefs I take Lady Ma- 
 < ry’s place, I requefl; to be the other god-mo- 
 « ther.’— 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE, 83 
 
 Mr. Mandeville gracefully bowed to us all ; 
 and faid, 4 It was gratifying his utmoft wifh, 
 4 fo to honor his dear little Indian ; and I hope 
 4 to call upon you foon. For I flatter myfelf, fir, 
 turning to his father, 4 you will permit me to 
 4 accompany you, next Sunday, to the facra- 
 c ment ; 'when I have obeyed our Saviour’s lad 
 4 injundlion, it will complete my happinefs tO' 
 
 4 carry my child to be received into his flack.’’ 
 
 The Colonel replied — c Be not fo precipitate, 
 
 4 Charles, in matters of religion ; let your 
 4 daughter be baptized — to be fure that fhould 
 4 not be delayed ; but as to the other part, it 
 4 is time enough, when your king and country 
 4 call upon you, to prove your faith.’ 
 
 4 I find you think me too hafiry, fir ; but Mr. 
 
 4 Gray has taken much pains and trouble to in- 
 4 firudt me in my duty ; and he has given me 
 4 great fatisfacfion, by afluring me, I need not 
 4 longer pofipone a thing I fo ardently defire. 
 
 4 Your judgment ought to guide mine, but that 
 
 4 you 
 
/ 
 
 84 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 you may be the better able to form it, I will 
 ‘ unfold my fentimente, and lay before you the. 
 ‘ plan I formed on my arrival in England. 
 
 ‘ Firfl, to ftudy the Chriflian Religion in its 
 
 * native purity ; then to feek out you, fir, and 
 ( try to obtain your bleffing ; obferving all the 
 
 * time, to difc'narge my duty, in due care of my 
 ( dear wife’s pledge of true love : thus, when I 
 
 * had endeavoured to make myfelf lefs unworthy, 
 
 ‘ to hope for a bleffing from Heaven upon alt 
 4 my anions, by a confcience free from felf re- 
 4 proach — then — and not till then, to turn my 
 4 mind to fuch ftudies, as would hi tke me a 
 4 worthy member of this country j fuch as would 
 4 be no difgrace to my friends here, nor to the 
 4 country in which I had received my education ; 
 
 * where, if I had acquired no learning, I had 
 4 feen no vice ; or at lend, as little as frail na« 
 
 * ture will permit us to know. 
 
 e I efteem it no fmall comfort, to gain the 
 ‘ bleffings of the poor, therefore I have tried to 
 
 ‘ relieve 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 85 
 
 * relieve every did refs I have heard of 3 and I 
 1 hope it will not be thought vanity in me. when 
 
 * I declare, I have endeavoured to fulfil every 
 ‘ branch of my duty, as fad as I have learned 
 
 * them. 
 
 ‘ Time will, I truft, make me more perfedt 5 
 ‘ and in the mean while, I hope I lhall be par- 
 4 doned the errors that arife from ignorance. 
 
 e What may I not hope for ? blefied with a 
 4 forgiving parent, who pardons the fault that 
 6 has fo long lain heavy on my confcience 5 and 
 4 with the example of fuch friends as furround 
 ‘ me ! — And as to the goods of fortune, I have 
 
 * wealth, more than enough, to fatisfy the mod 
 
 * ambitious man ! — 
 
 e Wonder not then, my deareft fir, that I am 
 
 * impatient to give every proof of my gratitude 
 ‘ to the giver of all good, for his mercies to 
 « me !’ — 
 
 The 
 
85 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 The Father could contain no longer, but in a 
 voice of rapture, called out, ‘ Oh, Charles, my 
 4 deareft fon; thou art every way my fupe- 
 4 rior !’ 
 
 4 Do not, fir, fo confound me by praifes I 
 ‘ cannot merit, but rectify my errors; then, 
 4 with an heart at eafe, I can apply to proper 
 4 ftudies ; and hope to make myfelf in time, a 
 
 * ufeful member of my native land ; never forget- 
 ‘ ting to ferve, when I can, its cad off Colony, 
 4 in the northern part of India’ 
 
 * I find,’ faid Lord Belmont, ‘ the befl edu- 
 « cation is to be well indructed in virtue.’ 
 
 * A virtuous mind, fir, is certainly the bed 
 4 foil for inftru&ion-- keep out the rubbilh of 
 4 vice, and there will be no impediment to the 
 4 fair growth of judice ; which I confider as 
 4 the main root, from whence all the other vir- 
 
 * tues Ihoot ; and without which, there can, ac- 
 
 4 cording 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 87 
 
 * cording to my notion, be no fuch thing as true 
 ‘ virtue.’ 
 
 ‘ Surely,’ faid Colonel Belville, ‘ you have 
 
 * lived with a race of philofophers !’ 
 
 ‘ Not fo, fir ; they know neither the word, 
 f or its meaning; neither have they any books, 
 
 ‘ excepting four fmail ones, written in a lan- 
 
 * guage, neither they nor I could read. They 
 ‘ have very little idea of any religion ; but the 
 ‘ little they have learned, has been continued by 
 c tradition (without any addition or alteration, 
 
 ‘ they believe) from one generation to another, 
 
 * for upwards of four hundred years ; and is 
 ' ftri&ly adhered to.’ 
 
 Lady Belmont faid, * You mentioned it as 
 ‘ your opinion, that they were a cafi: off colony 
 
 * — from what nation ?’ 
 
 ‘ From England, madam, I am inclined to 
 s think, for many reafons— firfl, their language, 
 
 ‘ though 
 
88 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 though materially different from ours, has 
 4 fuch a refemblance in the found, and is fo ex- 
 4 aftly the fame in fome words, that I foon learn- 
 4 edit, and they very foon acquired mine ; per- 
 4 haps, neither were very coi refit ■, but each 
 4 foon underftood the other, without difficulty* 
 
 4 They vvorfnipped one fupreme Deity — the 
 4 itlvifible God of heaven and earth ; and all the 
 4 ritual they had, wis the Lord’s prayer, the 
 4 creed, and the ten commandments ; which 
 4 were very nearly the fame as ours : — the repea- 
 4 ting thefe, and finging hymns, is their only 
 4 form of worfhip. From thefe, they formed 
 4 their laws, which none infringed, without in- 
 4 curring fure difgrace.’ 
 
 The Colonel faid, 4 I fup'pofe their punifh- 
 4 ments were very fevere.’ 
 
 No, fir ; they would not appear fo in our 
 * country — murder is the only crime that is 
 
 4 p uni fiied 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 89 
 
 ' punifhed with death ; and very feldom was it 
 
 * committed. 
 
 * Their rewards are, ail increafe of honor ; 
 e their puni foments, difgrace ; which, in gene- 
 
 * ral, is as much dreaded as death. 
 
 « For a known, a wilful falfity, the fird of- 
 ‘ fence was punifoed by difgrace ; the fecond, by 
 
 * banifoment, for what length of time the fupe- 
 ‘ rior choofes. — They are fent away to a dif- 
 1 tance, in a very large boat, which is to be 
 ‘ dored with whatever they choofe to carry with 
 
 * them. At the appointed time of their return, 
 ‘ they are received in a very friendly manner; 
 ‘ and every hint of reproach flri£i:ly prohibited ; 
 ‘ and fo they often become worthy members of 
 ‘ the community. In all the time I lived there, 
 ( there was occafion to banifo only two perfons, 
 ‘ — one of them came fafe back, and is now a 
 ‘ very worthy man.’ 
 
 * Pray,’ 
 
$rq THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Pray,’ faid Colonel Mandeville, what do you 
 ‘ mean by di'grace ? and if they have no laws, 
 f how can they be faid to deferve it ?’ 
 
 ‘ Sir, they have rules — to difobey them, is to 
 e deferve difgrace-— to explain the nature of that 
 ‘ difgrace, I mud inform you, nobody has any 
 ‘ power there, but what age entitles him to ; 
 
 ‘ therefore age is their ambition ; and this is to 
 
 * be gained by merit ; or loll: by demerit.’ 
 
 ‘ What, fir, can they make a man older or 
 
 * younger, as they think proper ?’ 
 
 ‘ Yes, fir ; and nobody has any property of 
 < any kind, but what the ftate allosvs, accord- 
 ‘ ing to his rank ; which is determined entirely 
 ‘ by the age they have voted him to be of.’ 
 
 £ Pray, Charles, how old was you ?’ 
 
 ‘ T was fixty, and unanimoufly offered to be 
 ‘ feventy.’ 
 
 ‘ How 
 
CHARLES MANDEV1LLE. 
 
 9 * 
 
 ‘ How old when you fir ft went ?’ 
 
 ‘ They allowed me no age at all ; I was, in 
 ‘ their eftimation, the lowed perfon there.’ 
 
 ‘ What do you fay ? not a Have, I hope.’ 
 
 * There is no fuch thing in the country ; nor 
 
 * have they the final l.ed idea what davery means. 
 
 * My fmall knowledge of Euiopean cudoms, 
 ‘ makes me a bad defender of the rules, difpo- 
 ‘ fition, and dried integrity of thofe worthy In- 
 ‘ dians ; but a whole race with more virtue, or 
 ‘ lefs vice, I really believe cannot be found upon 
 
 * earth.’ 
 
 ‘ Well,’ faid the Colonel, ‘ I mud not call 
 
 * a fon older than myfelf, child.’ 
 
 * To my ear it would not found extraordinary, 
 
 * as I have feen many a father his fon’s junior ; 
 f for a perfon of an indolent temper, without am* 
 
 b'ition, may live fixty, feventy, or eighty 
 
 ‘ fprings, 
 
92 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 fprings, without attaining any age; and one 
 4 who has not feen thirty fprings, may attain to 
 4 fixty, or feventy years of age, which none can 
 
 * exceed.’ 
 
 ‘ So then you have been the cldefl man in the 
 4 country.’ 
 
 4 No, fir ; I was offered to be fo, but I did 
 
 * not think myfelf a proper object for fo high an 
 4 honor.’ 
 
 Pray, fir,’ faid I, 4 how do they determine 
 4 as to the women ? I fhould fuppofe the giving 
 4 them twenty or thirty years, would be no great 
 4 incitement to virtuous adlior.s ; but, perhaps 
 4 they reverfe it, and take years from them.’ 
 
 Mr. Mandeville fmiled, and faid, There have 
 4 been very few- inftances, madam, of the wo- 
 4 men attaining any age at all.’ 
 
 4 Oh, fir, your fervant ; I am anfwered.’ 
 
 4 Do 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 93 
 
 ‘ Do not, however, mi flake me, madam, 
 ‘ and infer, that they think meanly of the fex 
 « — it would be doing great injuftice ; but the 
 ‘ feminine merit is confined to the duties of do- 
 ‘ meftic life ; and it has been very rarely known, 
 ‘ that any woman deviated from the general man- 
 ‘ ner of life, fo as to be clafTed amongfl the can- 
 
 * didates for age : yet, were the honor to be 
 e conferred on them, for private virtues, few" 
 
 I * countries could (hew more exemplary infiances 
 I ( of good wives, and amiable mothers, than I 
 
 * have feen there.’ 
 
 He fighed heavily, and I was forry my flip- 
 pancy had probed a wound, hardly healed 
 yet. 
 
 bff ; > - • , y-, . 
 
 My Lord interrupted Mr. Mandeville’s reflec- 
 tions, by laying, ‘ I have been fo entertained 
 
 * with the account of my countrymen in India ; 
 |j * and plcafed with the proofs I have read of their 
 
 * honeft fimplicity, and of the high affection 
 ‘ they had for you ; that I muff enquire if you 
 
 ever 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 9 + 
 
 4 ever repeated leaving England ; I Ihould fup- 
 4 pole you did not, by the information I have 
 4 received of your being fo greatly beloved, and 
 * fo greatly honored by a wife, and virtuous peo- 
 4 pie; whole judgments were diredted by native 
 4 truth, candour, and honefty. 
 
 c I can allure the company, that Mr. Man- 
 4 deville attained the highefl: honor, and mofl: 
 4 juflly deferved the title of — honorable-— which 
 4 they bellow only upon exalted merit.’ 
 
 His Honor looked abalhed, but not daunted ; 
 then, with a becoming dignity, replied, 4 True, 
 4 I was fo rewarded, for fome fervices I was fo 
 4 happy as to render thefe nobleft encouragers of 
 4 virtue ; and for their credit, and my own, will 
 4 not difguife my fentiments. 
 
 4 I never did repent leaving my tyrannical 
 4 fchool-mafler, who whipped me as if I had 
 4 been a Have ; for faults too, that I did not 
 
 4 commit ; 
 
CHARLES MANDSVILLE. 95 
 
 commit ; and charged me with falfehoods I 
 4 had never uttered. 
 
 4 You muff remember, fir.,’ turning to his fa- 
 4 ther, 4 my complaining to you of his harfii 
 
 * treatment ; you replied, I muft go through 
 
 * the fchool difcipline— — fupplied me with mo- 
 4 ney, which enabled me to purchafe candles 
 4 to add part of the night to my hours of ftudy ; 
 
 4 and mod luckily (as it has proved) gave me 
 4 that watch, which you knew again. 
 
 4 One night, that I was particularly anxious 
 4 to excel my form in verfes, (having, by your 
 4 defire, been abfent from fchool the day before 
 4 they were to be given up) I was obliged to fit 
 4 up till pafl: two o’clock, to complete my tafk. 
 
 4 This made me unufually fleepy in the morn- 
 4 ing. A boy, as he went by my room, called, 
 4 and found me in bed •, and fnatching my watch 
 4 off the table, ran away. 
 
 I flipped 
 
9 6 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ I flipped on my clothes, and after a fcuffle, 
 
 * recovered my watch. — My mafler catched us 
 ( in the fray, which had detained us both too 
 
 * long from fchool. I was called up, but begged 
 
 * lea e find to go for my talk, which I had left 
 ‘ in my other coat pocket. 
 
 c excufe for idlenefs, fir.’ 
 
 ; is no excufe, fir; give me leave to fend 
 
 * rot it/ 
 
 ‘No, I dare fay you have not got it ready — 
 « I am certain you lie.’ 
 
 c Sir, I fhould fcorn to lie, whatever you may 
 ‘ think of me.’ 
 
 * Ah ! you are faucy, are you ; I (hall make 
 t you fuffer for it, allure yourfelf.’ 
 
 « Fie then called up the other boy ; a bigger 
 
 * boy, 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 97 
 
 boy, but not a better fcholar — afked him, what 
 had been the caufe of our quarrel. 
 
 4 He replied, 4 Mandeville was late in bed, 
 and on his hearing he would be too late for 
 fchool, grew furly, fo we quarreled.’ 
 
 4 Did you not take his watch ? 
 
 4 Yes, fir ; but it was out of jell, and he has 
 it again.” 
 
 4 Well, I hope you have not negle&ed your 
 talk to-day, as you did yeflerday.’ 
 
 4 No, fir ; but in the fighting I loll it out of 
 my pocket.’ 
 
 4 Fye, fye, go your way, and be more care- 
 ful hereafter.’ 4 Now fir,’ turning to me, 
 
 I will give you a few llrokes for telling me an 
 untruth, and for your faucinefs.’ 
 
 c He was as good as his word ; and whipped 
 me fo cruelly, I was not able to walk ; and 
 for two days kept my bed. 
 
98 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 This manifell: injuftice would not let me 
 < deep at night, or have peace ; n the day ; and 
 4 I refolved rather to die, than continue in the 
 '* power of fuch a tyrant. 
 
 * As I was beloved by my fchool-fellows, I 
 
 * was pitied by mod of them. I had one fa- 
 4 vorite, a little older than myfelf, to him Itold 
 b my mind. 
 
 4 He faid^ if I could get healed enough to go 
 4 off with him, in three days, when he went 
 4 to the Vi&ory, where his brother was alieu- 
 e tenant, and he was himfelf to be a midftiip- 
 4 man, he had no doubt but he could prevail 
 
 * on the captain to take me; as* he was fure he 
 4 could anfwer for it, I was not a coward. 
 
 4 I replied, no, no ; with fair play, I feared 
 4 nothing. In fhort, we managed fo well, that 
 4 all my wearables were packed in his box ; and 
 4 it was late when he took his leave ; and I lock- 
 4 ed my chamber door, and contrived to (leal 
 
 * out, a little time before him. 
 
 4 We 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 99 
 
 . * We met at the appointed fpot — took a port 
 
 * chaife to Greenwich ; and then took boat, and 
 ‘ went off to the fhip. 
 
 * The captain being informed of my arrival, 
 '* alked who I was ? and why I came thither ? 
 
 * At this moment, I determined to change 
 4 my name, to that of Woodville ; which, as 
 
 * it Was my mother’s, I thought I had an equal 
 ‘ right to — which I flattered myfel-f, would pre- 
 
 * vent any difcredit to my family, for the rtep I 
 4 had taken, and alfo fcreen me from being 
 ‘ difcovered, if enquired for ; I anfwered the 
 
 * captain, therefore, by giving in that name j 
 
 * and told him, the cruel ufage of my fchool- 
 4 mailer, and the love I had for my companion, 
 ‘ who I found was going away, had made me 
 4 take this refolution ; and that I only requeued 
 
 * to be admitted as a failor’s boy. 
 
 4 The captain replied, 4 Have a flout heart, 
 4 and you fhall be my boy ; but if you prove a 
 4 coward, I will throw you o?er board.” 
 
 F ! 
 
 « If 
 
too THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ If I do, ufe me as you plcafe; only give me 
 ‘ leave, before you fail, to tell my father where 
 
 * I am ; and that you have been fo good as to ac* 
 
 4 cept of me.’ 
 
 4 Hq confented ; and I wrote you word, fir, 
 
 4 of my deftination ; and allured you, whenever 
 
 * I had an opportunity, I would inform you 
 4 where, and how I was ; but this letter was 
 4 not fent till the fnip was under fail, left you 
 
 * fhould prevent my fcheme taking place. 
 
 4 The captain was very good to me ; and had 
 4 me inftru&ed in all the kind of learning, ne- 
 4 ceftary for the profeffion I had chofen : and 
 6 now all my Latin gave way to navigation, and 
 4 the ftudy of the compafs. 
 
 4 One dreadful night, when I was fo employ- | 
 4 ed, I heard a moft fhocking fcrcam ; I ran up 
 
 * on deck, to enquire the cau’e ; theory, from 
 4 every mouth, was for mercy, and that we 
 4 were loft ' 
 
 Whether 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE, too 
 
 * Whether the {hip, that inftant, fplit, or 
 what happened, I know not, for all was, from 
 that moment, loft to me. 
 
 ‘ My firft knowledge, after this fad period, 
 was the finding myfelf in a hammock, amongft 
 people I did not know ; who fpoke a language 
 I could not underhand. 
 
 ‘ I was fo weak, I could not move ; an old 
 man often fed me with a tea-fpoon. I per- 
 ceived I was very ill ; I was able, however, 
 to count the days; and on the fifth day from 
 the time my fenfes returned, the old man took 
 me up, and carefully drefTed me ; and I was 
 rejoiced to find, I had my watch, and my 
 money that was in the clothes I had on, when 
 I recollected going upon the deck of the Vic- 
 tory. I offered the good old man my money;, 
 he finding, ftroaked my head, but rejected 
 the money ; and gave me two blue fhirts ; and 
 was thoroughly kind to me. 
 
 4 I grew foon well, and as far as I could un- 
 derhand, did every thing I thought they bid 
 
1 02 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 r me do. I believe there were forty-five men in 
 he veil'd, befides myfelf. 
 
 * At the end of forty days, the fhip feemed 
 
 * ftrangely toITed about, and in every face, I 
 
 * read horror and defpair ; and I fufpedted, they 
 
 * did not know where they were. 
 
 4 This lafted four days, the mifery plainly 
 4 increafing — food grew fcarce ; each day added 
 
 * to that misfortune ; and, in a fortnight’s time, 
 4 twenty men died. 
 
 * My grief was exceffive, at feeing my good 
 4 old man failing : I had, for feveral days, given 
 
 * him two parts of the provision that was allotted 
 
 * to me ; he, finding himfelf going, gave me a 
 
 * bottle, and by figns, bid me take but little of 
 ‘ it at a time. 
 
 * He foon after expired, which grieved me 
 ‘ exceedingly ; and I felt as if I had loll my only 
 4 friend : indeed, though we could not make 
 
 4 each 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 *0 
 
 * each other underftand what we faid, I had ex- 
 
 * perienced much kindnefs from his compaffionate 
 
 * care of me. I could not forbear letting the 
 ‘ few furvivors fhare my bottle, whilft it laded 
 
 1 fo it was foon exhaufted. 
 
 ‘ At length, there was but one man and my* 
 -* felf left alive : we were nearly ftarved ; and 
 
 * that unhappy man died juft before the ftiip ran 
 
 * a-ground, for want of hands to fteer it. 
 
 * When the ftiip fplit, a place difcovered it- 
 
 * felf, which I (and probably many more in the 
 
 * veflel) did not know of ; where there were a, 
 4 few poultry, and a little corn. Had this been 
 ‘ found fooner, it might probably have faved 
 e a few lives. 
 
 * In my forlorn and helplefs fituation, it was 
 e of noufe to me, and I gave myfelf up ; when, 
 
 * by the kindnefs of fome men, in a kind of boat, 
 
 * I was almoft miracuioufly faved. Thus was I, 
 
 * in 
 
/ 
 
 io 4 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ in the fpace of a few months (I know not how 
 ‘ many !) twice refcued from the jaws of death ! 
 
 ‘ Forgive this long detail — I fhould have flopp- 
 
 * ed fooner ; but obferving a kind attention, 
 ‘ which could only proceed from the interefl 
 ‘ taken in my prefervation ; I could not refill 
 ‘ the inclination I felt to continue my dory, 
 
 * till I was in a fafe harbour ; — A heart, now 
 ‘ lightened from fo many forrows, as long op- 
 ‘ preffed mine, gives a rapid utterance to a 
 ‘ tongue, unufed to be very loquacious.’ 
 
 My Lord faid, he fancied all his auditors, as 
 well as himfelf, had been too much entertained, 
 and too deeply interefted in his account, to think 
 he had been tedious ; and he was certain, all 
 wifhed him to proceed to farther particulars of 
 a conduct, that had reflected honor on all be- 
 longing to him ; but as he fhould be forrv to tire 
 Mr. Mandeville, they would defer afking him 
 any of the many quellions, each mud long to 
 have anfwered. — —Then rifing, tcld Colonel 
 
 Mandeville, 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 105 
 
 Mandeville, he mutt beg to {peak with him in 
 his dudy ; and I heard his lordfhip fay, as he 
 paffed me, ‘ It is time to confult about the 
 ‘ melancholy bufinefs we are to appear upon fo 
 * foon.’ — The horrid trial which is to be in a few 
 days ! 
 
 The recoiled) ion this has brought to my mind, 
 makes me unfit, for the prefent, to write any 
 more. 
 
 Indeed, I have already fcribbled a mod volu- 
 minous packet ; but your wifh to hear every par- 
 ticular relating to this wonderful man, mud 
 plead my excufe. As time permits, and occur- 
 rences arife, I will add to my hiflory. Adieu ! 
 
 Anne Wilmott. 
 
 
 To 
 
io 6 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To Mifs Kitty Fortejcue. 
 
 1H E fates have decreed, that I {hall be your 
 correfpondenf, by flopping the pen of your 
 friend. — Now, perhaps you will fancy it is the 
 praifes you beftow on my narratives, that makes 
 me willing to continue them ; but you are mif- 
 taken ; — my fondnefs for praife, is not extin- 
 guifhed, for I am alive, and a woman ! but it 
 pleafes now, only from one mouth — there was a 
 time, any mouth that uttered it, was certain of 
 delighting me. 
 
 I expe& you will confefs lam very good, when 
 thus engrofled by one object, to find time to 
 write to you ; however, to check your vanity, 
 I muft tell you, I do not devote thofe hours to 
 you, I could fpend with that one ; but I am an 
 
 early 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 107 
 
 early rifer, and a late fitter up 5 I write faft, and 
 am never idle ; therefore I have more power of 
 indulging the curiofity of my friends, than raoft 
 would have in my fituation. 
 
 Emily’s pen is not laid by from idienefs ; but 
 in playing with that fweet child (who hardly ever 
 leaves herj fhe contrived to ftrain her right thumb, 
 fomuft employ a deputy for feme time. 
 
 Her laft, fhe tells me, gave you an account of 
 Mr. Mandeville’s ftory, as far as we have heard’ 
 it. I doubt not, but it was a very accurate repe- 
 tition ; for fhe liftened with attentive ears to each 
 fyllable he fpoke ; and- her heart, I dare fay, 
 vibrated to each account of ‘ dangers he had 
 pafs’d !’ 
 
 Read Othello’s defeription of Defdemona’s 
 Lftening to his tale of wonders, and it will give 
 you a perfect idea of poor Emily— —and fave me. 
 me much trouble. 
 
 Yeflerday morning, as fhe and I were chatting 
 before breakfafi; in the gallery, the child came 
 
 out 
 
THE HISTORY O F 
 
 io3 
 
 out of her father’s dreffing-room, and ran up to 
 us, and taking hold of my apron, faid, ‘ Pay 
 ‘ come, and fee mama and Mifs Hoad.’ 
 
 Not being able to guefs what fhe could mean, 
 we let her guide us into the room, where we 
 found Mr. Mandeville reading ; and two figures 
 on the table, that almofl: petrified me with af- 
 tonifhment, from the very firrong refemblance 
 they had to Emily- — They were done in the 
 fame manner of that we had feen at Meadow 
 Houle, refembling Mr. Mandeville. 
 
 He rofe, and throwing afide his book, faid, 
 ‘ I am obliged to my little girl, I find, for the 
 ‘ honor of feeing you here.— Dear creature, fhe 
 « will have it, thefe miniature ftatues are her 
 « mama, and Mifs Ploward, I confefs, I too, fee 
 * the likenefs.’ 
 
 Emily coloured ; and I laughing faid, ‘ They 
 « are her very lelf ; but how is it pofTible you 
 ‘ could fo foon complete two fuch figures ? they 
 c are both alike, but I think you have flattered 
 ‘ her.’ 
 
 ' Blefs 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 109 
 
 4 Blefs me, Lady Anne, yon furely do not 
 ‘ ferioufiy think me capable of taking a lady’s 
 * likenefs, without her leave ; but truly, thefe 
 ‘ figures do not fo ftrongly refemble Mifs How- 
 ‘ ard, as fhe does my angel- like wife !’ 
 
 Emily, faid, * They were done for fitters, I 
 4 fuppofe.’ 
 
 4 No,’ faid the little prattler, 4 mama, and 
 ‘ Mifs Howard.’ 
 
 * I cannot get that idea out of the child’s head, 
 c which proves the likenefs ; but they were both 
 { done for my dear departed faint, in the drefs 
 ‘ of the country ; — that, with the white feathers, 
 4 reprefents the maiden daughter of an honor- 
 4 able, with five ftones in the feathers ; — the 
 e black feathers, with feven ftones, is worn only 
 4 by the wives of the honorables.’ 
 
 I was much charmed with thefe beautiful ima- 
 ges, and will try to defcribe them to you. 
 
 They are about twelve inches high, elegantly 
 drefied, and with fweet countenances ; only that 
 
 with 
 
no THE HISTORY OF 
 
 with the white feathers, feems to have a youngei 
 face than the other ; and has the moll engaging- 
 ly modefl: look you can conceive : — the other 
 feems to be a little older, and to have, added to 
 that modefl innocent look, an air of dignity, 
 but wholly from haughtinefs. 
 
 The drefs of both, is a blue (ilk jacket, and 
 petticoat ; with fhort fleeves, which reach only 
 to the elbow, and is there turned up with white 
 cambrick (or what appears fo) pinked in a pat- 
 tern, like lace ; a tucker the fame. 
 
 The eldeft figure had a white gauze, fattened 
 at the top of the left flioulder with diamonds, 
 and hanging down to the right hip, where it was 
 plaited clofe with more diamonds ; and from 
 thence, it flowed gracefully, fo as to touch the 
 ground ; and, as Mr. Mandeville told us, is 
 occafionally thrown over the head as a veil. 
 
 On the head of this figure, over fhort, curling, 
 light brown hair, was a fmall white cap ; on the 
 right fide of which, there was a bunch cf black 
 
 feathers. 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 hi 
 
 feathers, which hung from the head ; and were 
 ryed with a blue riband, that reached the other 
 fide of the head, where it was fattened in bows ; 
 — amongft thefe feathers, were placed feven 
 large diamonds. 
 
 In the younger figure, the veil was of filver 
 gauze (fuch as this pretty child wears) the fea- 
 thers were white ; there was no cap ; and inttead 
 of diamonds, there were five amethyfts, mixed 
 with the feathers , and amethyfts alfo to fatten 
 the veil on the hip and ftionlder, where the elder 
 figure had diamonds ; all the other parts of the 
 drefs alike. 
 
 I {aid, * I never faw any thing fo beautiful, 
 * or fo pleafing, as thefe two figures.’ 
 
 He replied, f he had feen two as good ; one 
 for ever loft ! the other then prefent.’ 
 
 Emily gave him a look, mingled with pleafure 
 and confufion ; then faid, with a blulhing cheek 
 ‘ fhe feared Lady Belmont was waiting breakfaft/ 
 
 and 
 
ii2 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 and To it proved ; for our excufe I told her the 
 caufe of our rudenefs. 
 
 Her lady fhip requeued to be indulged with a 
 fight of the images. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville immediately went for them, 
 and her ladyfhip faw the refemblance as ftrongly 
 as I had done. 
 
 She enquired how the child came to call one 
 of them mama, and not the other ; fhe fhould 
 have fuppofed the would naturally take them both 
 for Mifs Howard, as Hie concluded fhe could not 
 recollect Mrs. Mandeville. 
 
 e I fhould imagine, madam, it is not poffible 
 
 * file fhould ; hut I have hefore fiiewn her, that 
 
 * fhe calls her mama ; and told her who it was 
 
 * for. The other the never faw, till to day, when 
 
 * I took it out of the box, to examine it parti- 
 ‘ cularly.’ 
 
 He left us to guefs why ! 
 
 That 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 113 
 
 That afternoon we miffed Mr. Mandeville, 
 juft as we were going to tea, and could learn 
 nothing more of him, than that, on hearing his 
 child cry, * he had gone haftily into the garden, 
 ‘ to fee what ailed her.’ 
 
 We all immediately went thither, to look for 
 him ; but foon flackened our paces, on hearing 
 the fweeteft pipe that ever charmed my ear. 
 
 Accuftomed as I have been in Italy, to the 
 mod melodious voices, I felt, in every nerve, 
 that I had never before liftened to fuch founds. 
 
 I could almoft hate this man for excelling info 
 many ways, not only the generality of his fex', 
 but even my beloved Harry, his unfortunate 
 brother. 
 
 I turned to Bel vi lie, alluring him that I fhould 
 certainly leave him to wear the willow, if I were 
 convinced I could prevail on Mr. Mandeville to 
 return my paflion. 
 
 The 
 
H4 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 The confident wretch, with a fmile, faid, 
 
 * Then I am pretty fecure, for Mr. Mandeville 
 
 * has declared, there can be no virtue, which is 
 
 * not founded upon juftice.’ 
 
 When we came up to the feat, and menti- 
 oned how we had been delighted, Mr. Mande- 
 ville told us, that finding his little darling had 
 got a fall, he had began finging a little favorite 
 fong of her’s, to divert her attention from the 
 pain her tumbling had given her ; and inadver- 
 tently had gone on, and fung a fong of more 
 compafs, when the child had left him to go to 
 her maid, for a longer walk. 
 
 Lady Belmont entering the ofitagon temple, 
 which fhe had not done for feveral months, faid, 
 
 e As the afternoon is fo fine, fuppofe we drink 
 
 * our tea here ; and, perhaps Mr. Mandeville 
 « will be fo kind as to purfue the hiftory he began 
 
 * yefterday. 
 
 t With gratitude to heaven, I own your re- 
 ‘ turn has proved a peculiar bleffing ! in allevi- 
 
 ‘ ating 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 115 
 
 « ating forrows I thought nothing could have 
 1 leflened.’ 
 
 She wiped her eyes, and after a figh, faid — 
 
 ' I think you much the fame in face, you was 
 ‘ in your childhood ; when you was always a 
 ‘ great favorite with me. 
 
 * I ever thought you very like your poor mo- 
 
 * ther — a very excellent woman 1 
 
 ‘ She was as partially fond of you, as your 
 
 * father was fuppofed to be of your brother. — 
 ‘ Do you remember her at all !’ 
 
 * Yes, madam, but not fo perfectly as I did 
 ‘ your ladyfh ip ; I never have forgotten that, 
 ‘ the laft time I was at home, before I left 
 
 * fchool, your lady fhip heard me read, and 
 
 * gave me a guinea, and a very pretty pocket 
 ‘ book, faying, — Charles, be a good boy, and 
 
 * I will love you for your mother’s fake.’ 
 
 4 I re» 
 
1 16 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 *f I recoiled! it,” faid Lady Belmont, and hear" 
 
 ‘ tily have I wept for the fad fate we fuppofed 
 ‘ had befallen you ; and thought it a comfort 
 ‘ your poor mother had not lived to fee that 
 e day : — but the decrees of providence are above 
 ‘ our comprehenfion 1 
 
 * We grieve for thofe, who, if acquainted 
 
 * with our fenfations, pity our folly.’ 
 
 Poor Lady Belmont’s pity had pierced her own 
 heart ! — her voice faultered, and fne could not 
 proceed. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville perceiving her diftrefsful feel- 
 ings, immediately turned the fubjedi, juft as 
 my Lord and the Colonel joined us, by faying, 
 rather abruptly — ■ 
 
 ‘ Your ladyfhip afked, yefterday, if my wife 
 ‘ was fair : I do not recoiled! that I anfwered 
 
 * you then (as I truly could) that fhe was fair, 
 
 * was wife, and as good as human nature could 
 « be ' 
 
 ‘ The 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 117 
 
 ‘ The natives of Youngland are all white; 
 
 * that circumflance, and the name of. their 
 
 * country, confirm my idea, that they came 
 c originally from England. 
 
 * • f.. / 1. ' . : 
 
 ‘ They have a natural benevolence; I was 
 
 * treated with an humanity that would have done 
 
 * honor to chriftians, even before I was of any 
 
 * age ; and when, of courfe, I was looked upon 
 
 * as the lowed perfon in the kingdom.’ 
 
 ‘ Why,’ faid the Colonel, * fhould they dc- 
 ‘ fpife you fo much ? you was an acute fenfible 
 ‘ lad at fchool ; furely they did not take you for 
 ‘ an ideot.’ 
 
 *' No, fir, but we mud allow for national cuf» 
 
 * toms ; age is with them honorable ; but no 
 f one can attain it, in their country, let them 
 
 * live ever fo many fprings, till they have, by 
 
 * fome means or other, proved beneficial to the 
 1 country, fo that a perfon may become honor- 
 ‘ able, that is' to fay, may be fixty years of age 
 ‘ v/hen he is very young ; and he may have lived 
 
 * fixty 
 
1 1 8 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * fixty fprings, and ftill be deemed of no age : 
 ‘ or he may, by mifcondudt, go back to ten 
 
 * years of age, from fixty. 
 
 ‘ Had I chofen to have continued in Young- 
 
 * land, I Ihould immediately have been feventy; 
 ‘ when I married I v/as fixty.’ 
 
 A general laugh enfued — the firft that has been 
 heard in thefe gardens, fince the unhappy walk 
 I took with Lady Julia ! 
 
 My Lord afked Emily, if (he could like to live 
 in a country, where the older a man was, the 
 more defirable for a hufband ? 
 
 She replied, fhe had always refpe£ted age, 
 when only acquired by living long ; but when 
 it arofe from growing old in virtue, it mud furely 
 be ftill more eftimable. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville’s eyes brightened with plea- 
 fure, at the artlefs manner in which fhe difplay- 
 cd fentiments fo favourable to him. 
 
 I hoped 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 119 
 
 I hoped fecretly that his lordfhip would fee how 
 matters were, and was fufficiently cured of ex- 
 periments, to be content to let this couple pro- 
 ceed in the beaten path. Alas ! he has dearly 
 paid for the winding one he planned before ! 
 
 We had more chat, but I have not more time 
 at prefent, fo mud haften to fay, adieu. 
 
 Anne Wilmott. 
 
 
 . J 
 
 To 
 
iao THE HISTORY OF 
 
 «::.j to ,ljn : 
 
 • eh;-- > :m.i f • : 
 
 To Mr. Herbert. 
 
 X CANNOT pretend to write methodically— 
 method was never my forte ; and now, it would 
 be very unreafonable indeed, to expe£t I Ihould 
 try for it. 
 
 I think, therefore, you will be content with 
 my penning down fuch conventions, as I ima- 
 gine you would have been pleafed to be prefent 
 at. 
 
 But before I relate any, I muff tell you, that La- 
 dy Belmont’s fpirits are fo much exhilarated by the 
 late fortunate events, that I flatter myfelf, when 
 you return to this part of the world, fhe will be 
 able to enjoy your company ; and I am fure your 
 compaffion has made you forgive her ladyfhip’s 
 
 having hitherto fhunned it. 
 
 o' ; 
 
 Pcrfons 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 121 
 
 Perfons who have been fo feverely wounded, 
 do not di (criminate, nicely, the caufe of their 
 fuffenng: could (Ire have done this, fhe mud 
 have feen that her’s had been owing to poor 
 Harry’s impetuofify, more than to your unfortu- 
 nate forgetfulnefs, in not leaving his addrefs 
 with your fervant. 
 
 My Lord’s (Longer mind, enabled him to 
 diftinguifh more juftly. 
 
 Pity her, therefore, but do not condemn her | 
 for (lie has an amiable as well as a fufcept iblc 
 heart ! 
 
 , * , \ ■ r 
 
 Now to my (lory — 
 
 Colonel Mandeville afked his fon, the other 
 afternoon, from whence he concluded the coun- 
 try and religion of thefe Indians, had formerly 
 been the fame as ours. 
 
 • . 1 : v r s 5 
 
 ‘ I be!\ . 
 
 Cr 
 
i%i THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 I believe, fir, I mentioned to you the great 
 4 fimilitude in the language to ours ; though they 
 ‘ knew nothing cf the art ot writing, till I was 
 
 * happy enough to inftrucl them? in it* and had 
 
 * only four books, which neither they nor I 
 1 could read. 
 
 4 As any thing flruck me particularly, I wrote 
 4 it down ; and when we could converfe, enquir- 
 4 ed into the meaning of what I had not under- 
 
 * flood ; and wrote down all the inflruftions I 
 4 received, which proved a great help to me. 
 
 4 I foon found they worfhipped one fupreme 
 4 Being ; whom they believed to be the God of 
 4 heaven and earth. 
 
 4 They could repeat the creed, the Lord’s 
 4 prayer, and the ten commandments — faid they 
 4 were taught from generation to generation, 
 4 that they were to learn thefe; and not to make 
 4 any alteration in their religion, till a marfor 
 ‘ men, fhould come amongfl them, drefTed as a 
 
 4 painting 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 12 
 
 4 painting dcfcribed, and fhould inftrudfl them 
 4 out of a book he would call the bible. 
 
 4 This painting I faw, when I attained the 
 ' 4 age of ten years, in their eftimation ; and I 
 
 * found it be a pidfure of an Englifn clergyman, 
 4 drefled exadlly as ours are. 
 
 4 Their church Hands in a large piece of 
 4 ground, about fix acres j which is walled 
 
 * round : a row of very large trees furrounds it. 
 
 * There are doors out of this wall, which 
 
 * open into fquare rooms, about ten feet high j 
 4 which are repofitories for whatever they think 
 4 worth preferving, and tranfmitting to pofte- 
 4 rity ; which they do by paintings, as well as 
 4 we do by writing ; or at lead, fo as to be very 
 4 intelligible. 
 
 4 In one of thefe rooms, the original fettle 
 4 ment is delineated ; there are four pair of men 
 4 and women, hand in hand ; preceded by one 
 G 2 4 man. 
 
 
124 
 
 THE HISTORY. OF 
 
 man, who Hands by himielf, holding a crofs 
 * in his hand. 
 
 4 The firft couple is followed by feven chil- 
 6 dren ; the fecond by fix ; the third by five ; 
 " and the laft by two, only. 
 
 ‘ In the next room, is a melancholy reprefen- 
 £ tation of the man with the crofs, expiring ; 
 ‘ many of the men and women lying dead, and 
 1 all the children, excepting e>ght. 
 
 ‘ In the next room, is a painting of the few 
 
 * furvivors ; amonglt which, I reckoned eight 
 
 * children ; the cldeft feemed to be under nine 
 
 * years old, and was a girl ; and there was one 
 
 * child not three years old. 
 
 1 They have a tradition, that no one, who 
 * was above twelve years old when they went 
 e thither, ever furvived two years. 
 
 * From 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 125 
 
 * From thefe eight children, defeended all 
 the prefent race of Younglanders ; for they 
 only are white, the neighbouring nations are 
 tawny. 
 
 « In the next 'room, is painted the Lord’s 
 prayer, creed, and ten commandments. 
 
 * In the next, rules (which are as laws to 
 them ; and more ftri&ly oblerved, than our 
 laws are amongft us.) 
 
 * Some of thefe rules are, that a man mud 
 be twenty years before he is a (ire; fires, are 
 under the direction of ancients, who are al- 
 ways above that age; ancients are directed 
 by honorables, tvho are fixty ; and honorables, 
 are under the command of the mod honorable ; 
 who is chofen by the unanimous voices of 
 each clafs or tribe, of (ires, ancients, and ho- 
 norabies. — When chofen, he is deemed fc« 
 verity. 
 
 ‘ I conclude 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 i 26 
 
 * I conclude you bear in mind, I am not 
 ‘ talking of the number of fprings they have feen, 
 
 * but of the age allotted to them, according to 
 
 * their condudt. 
 
 * The mod honorable is never more than one 
 ‘ perfon at a time : he can lay down his dignity, 
 
 * if he has the confent of the tribes, but not 
 
 * otherwife ; and they can degrade him, if he 
 4 fliould turn out unworthy of the great port he 
 ‘ has acquired ; but then it muft be done by 
 ‘ the unanimous voic^ of each clafs, o r tribe. 
 
 ‘ Every tribe is dirtinguifiied by their z< jurs ; 
 
 * the fires are white, the ancients green, the ho- 
 ‘ norables blue, and the mod honorable red. 
 
 4 Every perfon, male or female, muft wear 
 4 the colour of the tribe to which they belong. 
 
 * The heads of that tribe, wear filks ; the in- 
 
 * feriors fluffs : — nothing is left for fancy, but 
 ‘ the ornaments on the head and ftomachers 
 
 * of 
 
 , a 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. ' n 7 
 
 * of the fair fex ; which they may adorn as their 
 
 * tafte directs, only diftinguiftiing their tribe 
 ‘ by their colour ; and their rank in it, by fea- 
 1 thers in their head; and the degrees of that 
 ‘ rank, by the number and kind of precious 
 
 * ftones, mixed with thole feathers. 
 
 * The fingle women cannot wear diamonds, 
 
 * or more than five {tones, though daughters of 
 
 * an honorable : the wives mud wear a kind of 
 
 * cap ; if wives of an honorable, they mu ft wear 
 
 * black feathers, .§tnd have feven diamonds mix- 
 
 * eti with them. 
 
 * All who have not arrived to the clafs of fires, 
 
 ‘ eat promifeuoufly with the dependents (or fer- 
 ‘ vants, as we fhould call them) in a lower hall. 
 
 * 
 
 ‘ The fires, ancients, and honorables, cat in 
 ‘ an upper hall ; but the food is exadlly the fame 
 ‘ in both— wholefome, clean, and well (though 
 ‘ plainly) dreflVd : — no luxuries of any kind. 
 
 ‘ An 
 
128 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * An infant is brought by its parents to church ; 
 
 4 where it is, by a painting, regidered in the 
 ‘ tribe in which it is born ; and an hymn fung 
 
 * fuitable to the occafion, which very (imply ex- 
 ‘ prefles, a thankfgivijig for the !»i rt h of a child ; 
 
 4 and a hope, if it is a boy, it will deferve to be 
 4 mod honorable ; if a girl, that it may be the 
 
 * mother of a mod honorable ; the Lord’s pray- 
 
 * er, creed, and ten commandments, are then 
 4 repeated, which clofes their ceremony of bap- 
 
 * tifm. 
 
 4 When a couple is to he marr't.-d, the 
 
 * is led to church, by her father, or neared of 
 ‘ kin ; an honorable meets them at re entrance, 
 
 ‘ with a gold chain, and a lock at one end of it. 
 
 « This chain he puts over them both, then locks 
 
 * it, and throws the key into a pit, which runs 
 4 into the river ; a hymn is then lung, exprei- 
 « five of their w idles, that they may live happily, 
 
 4 and produce a race of honorahles, or mothers 1 
 4 of honorahles ; then the Lord’s prayer, &c. 
 
 4 arc repeated, as at baptifm. 
 
 4 The 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 129 
 
 \ 
 
 * The married couple go home, attended by 
 all the friends of each ; the chain is then taken 
 off, by flipping it over their heads ; and care- 
 fully laid by, as their mod; valuable poffeffion. 
 
 * They have a piece of ground allotted to each 
 tribe for a burying-place ; that for the mod 
 honorables, is, of courfe, the fmalleft. 
 
 * I fhould have mentioned, that amongft the 
 repofitories, there is a room, filled with all 
 the neceffary wearables for children ; and all 
 the articles for their immediate or future ufe ; 
 which is conftantly to be kept full, as it is from 
 the common flock ; every child is to be fuppli- 
 ed, till it is pad ten years of age. 
 
 1 They have one law (or role, as they call 
 them) which is, that any man, having lived 
 twenty-five fprings, without gaining anv age. 
 Is then to become a member of fome ufr-.’ul oc- 
 cupation for the good of the whole community ; 
 but if they invent any new art, cr become par- 
 G 3 f ticularly 
 
' 
 
 130 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * cularly famous in thofe already known, they 
 4 gain the age of ten years, and fo may advance 
 ‘ in years according to their merit. 
 
 * This clafs is dittinguifhed by wearing yel- 
 4 low ; and they may marry whilft in it ; but 
 4 their wives muft go into their clafs, and wear 
 4 their colour, till an advance in age, entitles 
 4 them to a higher diftindVion. 
 
 4 The rule that appeared to me the moft un- 
 4 reafonable, is, that if a woman, by accident, 
 4 or choice, fleeps one night, in any man’s 
 4 houfe. without one of her parents, or next of 
 4 kin being with her, in the fame houfe; the 
 4 matter of the houfe, or his foil, if either are 
 4 angle, may, after daylight, demand her in 
 4 marriage, if they choofe it. 
 
 4 She has the liberty of refufing, but it is upon 
 4 hard conditions; becaufe {he mutt then leave 
 4 her father’s houfe in a fortnight’s time, and 
 
 go 
 
 V 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 131 
 
 ‘ go into the clafs of ufeful employments ; any 
 ‘ one of which {he may choofe that beft fuits 
 ‘ her tafte and abilities ; and in that clafs {he 
 ‘ muff continue, and wear its colour ; unlefs 
 c marrying into a higher tribe (which there is no 
 
 * rule againft) gives her a right to become one 
 ‘ of them, and to wear their colour of courfe.’ 
 
 c I think I muff have fatigued my audience, 
 
 * I am fure I have myfelf ; but I hope, fir,’ turn- 
 ing to his father, 4 you fee reafons now to be of 
 
 * my opinion,, that thefe Indians came originally 
 
 * from England. 7 " 
 
 The Colonel acknowledged he did ; and wifhed 
 their mother country had made as wife laws for 
 themfelves, as had been made by their colony. 
 
 Before we went to bed, my Lord called me 
 into his ftudy, and told me, he thought the pa- 
 pers Mr. Ware had given him, Should now be 
 perufed by us all ; as they would make us all 
 
 acquainted 
 
^ ... ,1 
 
 132 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 acquainted with Mr. Mandeville’s conduft, and 
 character ; and elucidate many particulars in 
 his narration ; but as they muf! be painful to 
 Mr. Mandevilie to hear, for many reafons, he 
 begged an opportunity might be uken in his ab- 
 fence, to perufe them. 
 
 He faid, we had beft copy them amongd us ; 
 for he defired the originals fhould be returned 
 to him ; as he meaned to prelerve them with 
 great care, that they might defcend to future 
 generations. 
 
 As my pen and fingers are equally worn out, 
 I have defired Colonel Belville to employ his 
 leifure hours in tranfcribing them ; by which 
 contrivance, I fhall abridge him of many op- 
 portunities of teazing me to fix an important 
 crifis of my fate, which I am coward enough 
 to dread — and fhall relieve myfelf more ways 
 
 than one. 
 
 When 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLK. 
 
 *33 
 
 When he has written enough to make a packet 
 you (hall receive it from, 
 
 Your’s, &c. 
 
 Anne Wilmott. 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
34 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 Written by Mrs. MANDEVILLE, 
 
 And given into Mr. W are’s hands , a little before 
 her death. 
 
 W HEN the dear giver of every home-felt 
 joy to me, {hall happily arrive (as I pray to God 
 he may) in his nativ? land, the innate goodnefs 
 of his heart will, I am convinced, drefs my cha- 
 racter to his friends,, in the dignity of his own 
 virtues ; when, alas, how few would have fallen 
 to my {hare, but for him ! 
 
 He found my mind like an uncultivated piece 
 of land : no pains had been taken, but to pre- 
 vent 
 
CHARLES MAN DEVI LLE, 135 
 
 vent noifome weeds, from choaking its originat 
 virtue ; for all nature has fome, even in infancy, 
 if clofely attended to, we may difcover a tenden- 
 cy to right or wrong principles. 
 
 The improving the former, and eradicating 
 the latter, as they happen to appear, fliouid be 
 the governing deftgn of every inftru&or. 
 
 My parents took every poflible care to keep 
 my mind from error, by permitting me to fee 
 only what was good, and keeping from my know- 
 ledge every thing that could degrade human na- 
 ture, 
 
 I was their only child, and had lived eight 
 fprings, when my mother, by a fall, broke her 
 leg. 
 
 It was attended by no worfe confequences, 
 than the unavoidable pain and confinement 5 du- 
 ring which time I had never left her, but ftrove, 
 
 by 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 136 
 
 by all the lictle attentions my juvenile years could 
 pay. to leflen her uneafinefs. 
 
 My father had, as well as herfelf, obferved 
 my affiduity with pleafure ; and one fine after- 
 noon my father faid to me, 
 
 4 Agnes, your dutiful care of your mother 
 4 has given me great fatisfa&ion ; but I think 
 
 * fuch conftant attention, and confinement, may 
 4 hurt your health: I perceive you neither eat, 
 4 or look fo well, as you did before this accident ; 
 
 * therefore, you fhall ride with me to day ; and 
 4 to reward you for being fo good a girl, I will 
 ‘ {hew you a new fight ; and the exercife and 
 4 air, may give you a better rehfii for your fup- 
 
 My mother faid, 4 Go, my dear, I am quite 
 * eafy this afternoon.’ 
 
 Without anv inducement of amufement, I had 
 been taught that obedience was the moll neceflurv 
 
 dut>' 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 157 
 
 duty of a child, and the foundation of all other 
 merits. 
 
 I flew, therefore, to prepare for my little ex- 
 curfion ; and loon few my little horfe at the door, 
 with my father’s. 
 
 Obferve, though I call it a horfe, yet I now 
 know, we have no horfes in Vouagland ; but 
 we call every creature by that name on .‘hich we 
 ride ; fometirnss it is an afs, a calf, a large dog, 
 a deer, &c. 
 
 As we rode, we met my two couhns, Hubert 
 and Mirza. 
 
 My father alked them, if they v ould accom- 
 pany us ; adding, 
 
 * l am going to fhew Agnes the fea, whi:h, 
 ‘ as it >s quite new to her, I expect it will delight 
 ‘ and pleafe her much.’ 
 
 We 
 
/ 
 
 iJ 8 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 We all clambered up the Tides of very fteep 
 mountains, covered with woods ; and much 
 higher than I had ever mounted before. 
 
 We then quitted our horfes, and walked on a 
 delightful plain ; bounded on three (ides by the 
 Tea, the fettingfun illumined every obje&. 
 
 My father obferved, with every mark of plea- 
 fure, the rapturous aflonifhment, which appear- 
 ed in my face ; and felt all a parent’s delight at 
 my remarks ; anfwering my cueflions in a man- 
 ner that, f made my fenfes tutors to my mind.’ 
 
 As I went very near the brow of 2 rock, which 
 hung over the Tea, he called out to me to be care- 
 ful; and afked what I looked at To attentively ? 
 I faid, * on yonder great moving thing ; is it a 
 « fifh ?’ 
 
 He came to the part I flood on ; and when I 
 had pointed it out to him, faid, ‘ no ! child, I 
 
 ‘ think 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 139 
 
 • think it is not a fifti ; but I will Toon know 
 « certainly, then calling to my eoufins, he 
 « raid.* 
 
 t Hubert, do you fee Agnes fafe home, and 
 « your brother and I will try to find out what that 
 ‘ is, we fee yonder.’ 
 
 So faying, he and Mirza flruck rapidly into a 
 wood, hanging on one fide of the mountain ; 
 and Hubert and I returned home. 
 
 In about two hours afterwards, arrived my fa- 
 ther, accompanied by three men, who had fc- 
 veral bafkets in their hands - } but my father 
 brought the precious bur. hen, which was a boy, 
 feemingly dead. 
 
 He carried him to his own bed, giving the 
 men fome orders aboyt the things they had 
 brought. 
 
 My 
 
140 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 My father continued, till long after I vras in 
 bed, with this boy. 
 
 The next morning at breakfafi:, he faid to 
 me. 
 
 * Agnes, I promifed to tell you what that was, 
 
 * you fhowed me on the fea 1 then faw it 
 
 * was part of a veffel, in diftrefs ; fo took Mirza 
 ‘ a ftiort way I knew through the woody fide of 
 
 * the mountain, down to the water fide ; from 
 
 * whence I got boats, and took men, ropes, and 
 
 * every thing we could coiled: in a fhort time ; 
 < and went to the fpot you pointed to, where we 
 4 difcovered a melancholy fight indeed ; part of 
 4 a fhip, in which were found dead men (one 
 « hardly cold) and one boy who feem.d expi- 
 
 * ring; fome half ftarved fowls and various ar- 
 ‘ tides. 
 
 * All that had any figns of life left, we brought 
 
 * away ; 
 
CHARLES MAN.DE VILLE. 
 
 Hr 
 
 * away ; and left people to take care of fuch 
 ‘ things as could be faved.’ 
 
 My mother faid, Hie feared the poor child 
 could not live ; he was too weak tofpeak, and 
 could hardly open his eyes. 
 
 4 My father replied, * he was doubtlefs very 
 
 * near dead ; and, though I never faw the me- 
 4 dicines we have given him, have fo little ef- 
 4 fe£f, in fuch a number of hours, yet, I am 
 4 not without hopes, as he is undoubtedly bet- 
 4 ter than when I found him. 
 
 4 I conclude the fhip he was in, has by fome 
 4 dorms, been driven out of its courfe; and pro- 
 1 bably has been tofled about long enough, to 
 4 have the poor creatures that were in it, ftarv- 
 4 ed to death;— — the four corps we faw, had 
 4 that appearance. /. 
 
 4 We will do our bed for this unfortunate 
 
 4 child ; 
 
i 4 2 the history of 
 
 « child; the event is in the hands of God: I 
 e have fent for the moft fkilful man I know, to 
 ‘ direft what is fitceffc for his cafe, 
 
 * If he lives, he may reward our cares ; if he 
 
 * dies, the confcioufnefs, that we have done our 
 
 * duty by him, will be a reward.’ 
 
 Three days paffed, before there were any hopes 
 of his life ; on the fourth he gave fome ligns of 
 returning fenfes. 
 
 In this time, I had twice feen him, and I 
 cried heartily, at fo fad a fight. 
 
 My mother commended me for feeling fomuch 
 companion j and with her eyes full of tears 
 faid. 
 
 « X grieve for his poor parents, who are pro- 
 
 * bably, now lamenting the lofs of him.’ 
 
 She 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 143 
 
 She fent me, however, to divert me, to feed 
 the poultry; tho'e that were brought from the 
 {hip, I fed fird, becaufe they were ftrangers ; 
 and gave them a fecond feeding, as they were 
 mod hungry. 
 
 One amongd thefe, I thought prettier than the 
 red ; and when I returned, alked, 4 If that 
 4 might not be mine ?’ 
 
 My father looked at me with more dernnefs 
 than I had ever feen in his face before ; and 
 faid, 
 
 4 Girl, do you conlider what you afk ? is it 
 ‘ mine to give.’ 
 
 4 Why not father, you took them from no_ 
 * body ; but for you they mud all have died ; 
 e and would die now, if you did net feed 
 4 them.’ 
 
 4 True 
 
1 44 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 r 
 
 * True, Agnes ; yet, who do you think has 
 4 the belt right to them, the poor fick boy, or, 
 
 4 I?’ 
 
 ‘ The boy.’ * Certainly,’ laid ir.y father; 
 
 ‘ you would think fo if you were in his place ; 
 
 * and never forget, what I told you once be- 
 
 f fore, that you are always to do by others, » 
 
 * what you would have others do by you ; 
 
 ‘ and then, you will never be unjuft; for 
 ‘ nobody choofes to have others unjuft to 
 ‘ them.’ 
 
 | 
 
 ‘ Oh, then I know why you are fo kind to 
 ‘ this poor boy; becaufe, if I was from home, 
 
 ‘ ftarved and almoft dead, you would wilh fuch 
 
 * care Ihould be taken of me, as you now take 
 ‘ of him.’ 
 
 My father melted into tears,' luffed me, and I 
 faid, e yes ! my dear girl.’ 
 
 * Then 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE, 
 
 H5 
 
 ‘ Then I will feed'his fowls carefully, and 
 * they ftiall he all his if he lives.’ 
 
 The fifth day, the do&or faid, he had ne- 
 ver known the remedial he had applied, of fo lit- 
 tle ufe ; he believed, indeed, his fenfes were re- 
 turned, though he fpoke but feldom ; and then, 
 what could not be underfiood ; but that he had 
 fhewn a wonderful aptnefs to learn — his fituation 
 confidered — for in about an hour after he heard 
 fomebody fay father, he had repeated the word 
 very right ; and then added feveral more, which 
 nobody prefeiit could underftand. 
 
 The doctor then told my father, his longer 
 flay could be of no ufe— that he had given him 
 the laft medicine in his power to adminifter— 
 that if this cordial did not revive him, he would 
 die by the next riling of the fun ; if he outlived 
 that hour, he would probably recover, 
 
 M y ^ 3i -her faid, then he would fit and watch 
 him, till that tune was paft. 
 
 H 
 
 Kc 
 

 *4<5 THE history of 
 
 Fie did lb, and the poor boy flept fix hours 
 
 waked refrelhed eat fome of fucli food 
 
 as the doctor had ordered to be given to him, 
 and went to fleep again . 
 
 The fun being now quite rifen, and the boy 
 apparently mending, my father went to lie down 
 for fome hours. 
 
 After he got fome fleep, he rofe, and went ^o 
 
 the poor boy’s room ; and in a few minutes came 
 
 to my mother, and faid, he believed he had i 
 
 faved the life of a very good child ; becaufe, when 
 
 ^ * 
 
 he opened the door, he heard a weak voice pro- 
 nouncing what he could not underfland j andf 
 as he went farther into the room,' he faw the poor 
 creature on his knees, by the bed fide, and fo I 
 intent on the duty he was performing, that he did 
 not take any notice of him. 
 
 So he withdrew to the door, without fpeaking 
 to diiturb him, at Lis prayers, for fo, he verily 
 believed, he was employed ; for though he ccuid I 
 
 not 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 147 
 
 not underftand all he laid, yet he diftin£Uy heard 
 the words, God and Father, pronounced feveral 
 times. 
 
 He faid the poor boy was weeping heartily. 
 
 From this time, he recovered fur pri ling! y fall ; 
 and fpoke very often for a great while together, 
 what we could not underftand ; yet he foon 
 knew many of our words. 
 
 The method in which he expreffed his thanks, 
 was by bowing, which he would often do ; and 
 I thought in a much prettier manner, than any 
 body I had ever feen. 
 
 He would alfo often kifs my father’s hand ; 
 and T ufed to wonder, he never kiffed mine. 
 
 On the eighth day, he was able to rife early, 
 and put on his clothes himfelf. 
 
 The next day he was able to come out of hi* 
 H 2 
 
 room ; 
 
143 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 room ; and on the following Sunday, hearing 
 fomebody fay the word church, he immediately 
 repeated the word, held up his hands, and turn- 
 ing about, kneeled down, with his face to the 
 wall. 
 
 My father thought he would like to go to 
 church, and join in our devotion ; and fo afked 
 him, by figns and words ; he underftood enough 
 of both to fhew he wilhed to do fo ; and ac- 
 cordingly went with us; but, -as he has fince i 
 told us, was much furprized to find our church, , 
 and form of worlhip, fo different from what he 
 expected. 
 
 To our equal furprize, he repeated the Lord’s 
 prayer, &c. as well as we could ourfelves ; yet 
 he could not fay any of the hymns ; excepting 
 the word God, and a few other words. 
 
 A month pafied on, without any extraordinary 
 event. 
 
 He 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 149 
 
 He learned our language ; and whilfl: he was 
 acquiring it, we, almofi: imperceptibly, learned 
 his. 
 
 My father was very kind to him, and very 
 fond of him ; yet he never let him eat at our 
 table. 
 
 One day, I aficed if Charles Woodville might 
 not dine with us. 
 
 * No,’ replied my father ; c when he has 
 
 * gained any age, he fhall be treated accord- 
 ‘ ingly ; but in the mean time, why fliould he 
 ‘ be treated differently from our own natives ? 
 
 ‘ Till he is ten years of age, you know he 
 
 * cannot have a home of his own, let the numi 
 
 * ber of his fprings be what they will,’ 
 
 * Poor child, 5 faid my mother, he will never 
 5 have one ; for no foreigner ever lived two 
 
 * fprings here.’ 
 
 f 
 
 I hope 
 
ISO THE HISTORY OF 
 
 I hope otherwife,’ (aid my father ; I have fo 
 f great an afifedtion fpr him, that" I have had a 
 ‘ confultation between his dodtor, and the moll 
 
 * experienced perfons amongf! us. 
 
 e It appears that his confutation is a particular 
 ' one; for when fo near dying, he did not feem 
 ‘ to have any complaint but weaknefs ; and of 
 4 that, with all others, the high cordials he took, 
 
 * generally perfedted a cure in twelve hours; j 
 4 with him, it was feveral dsys, before they took i 
 c any effect. 
 
 • ' * * 
 
 4 Then again, I have hopes from his age; 
 
 * for our paintings (hew us, that all under twelve 
 
 * fpriiigs lived, and I do not think he reckons 
 4 more.’ 
 
 My father’s hopes were verified: — the dear 
 Woodville — for dear he was then to me, though 
 my young heart was unconfcious of its feeling 
 more than pity for him — grew in flrength and 
 beauty, to every body’s admiration. 
 
 He 
 
CHARLES' MANDEVILLE. 151 
 
 He never (laid longer in the eating-hall, than 
 the meal made neceffary ; yet behaved when 
 there, with fuch cheerfulnefs and good-nature, 
 that all his companions in it loved him. 
 
 He was ever employed in feme kind of tdudy ; 
 and in two months, was as perfe£t in our lan- 
 
 ji guage, as if he had been a native. 
 
 V » V 
 
 it/ v • : 
 
 My father often w^s with him in his retired 
 hours ; and he fele<£ted a fet of young people, 
 whom he affbeiated together, and called it, * A 
 youthful fociety for ufeful arts.’ 
 
 j Each was to endeavour to had out fome new 
 
 * 
 
 | one, or improve upon thofe already known. 
 
 | Woodville produced writing upon paper; till 
 then, painting was the only method of delinea- 
 ting their thoughts to a perfon at a dihance, or 
 of tranfmitting them to pofterity. 
 
 The utility of this new method, was mentio- 
 
 • ned 
 
152 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ned to the heads of feveral tribes ; and Woodvil- 
 Ie expatiated fo clearly upon its advantages, that 
 they were all charmed with the difcovery; and 
 the honorables petitioned the moll honorable to 
 confer a reward upon Woodville. 
 
 The mod honorable, whole greatefl pleafure it 
 is to reward merit, fent for him the next day, 
 and afked him which tribe he chofe, to be en- 
 rolled in. 
 
 Giving him a painted table, and bid him give 
 it to the head of that tribe he chofe ; explaining] 
 to him the nature of this enrollment j then {hook 
 him by the hand, with great cordiality ; and told 
 him, he hoped, as he found their nation was fo 
 prone to reward merit, it would infpire him with 
 the noble ambition of defervir.g the continuance 
 of favors from that country, which had now put 
 him upon the fame footing, as any native, who 
 was made ten years of age ; which is always the 
 fir;l period given to any. 
 
 Our 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 *5 3 
 
 Our people know not what the word polltenefs 
 means, but exprefs their fentiments in a plain, 
 unaffe&ed, and generally, very concife manner; 
 but they all proved, that they had no d Hike to 
 more pol ifhcd language ; for they were all charm- 
 ed with the refpe&ful, modeft, and yet dignified 
 manner, with which this young man received 
 their favors. 
 
 When he came home, how lovely did he ap- 
 pear ; his face was brightened with an unufual 
 cheerfulnefs — had a manly ferenity, yet had loft 
 none of its natural modell air. 
 
 My father, who had been witnefs of what had 
 palTed at the alTembly of the honorables, and 
 mod honorable ; for the firit time, took him by 
 the hand ; faying, 
 
 * Woodville, I wifti you joy of your early ad- 
 ‘ vancement ; I hope it is an earneft of future 
 s rewards to your merit.’ 
 
 s I fhal! 
 
154 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ I fliall rejoice to fee your age advance rapid- 
 £ ly to feventy.’ 
 
 He thanked my father, with his eyes filled with 
 grateful tears. 
 
 Then refpe&fully bowing, he put the painted 
 table into my father’s hand ; requeuing him to 
 accept it. 
 
 My father looked it over, faid, 
 
 ‘ With real pleafure, I receive you into my 
 ( tribe, and am glad it is your choice ; fome lit- 
 e tie forms are neceflary, according to our rules — 
 c to-morrow you fhall choofe your abode, and be 
 
 * furnifhed out of the common ftock.’ 
 
 He modefily replied, c My youth and igno- 
 
 * ranee, will, I hope, plead my excui'e, if I 
 
 * omit any of the proper tokens of refpeef, that 
 f can fhew my gratitude to you ; who, next to 
 
 * the A’ mighty, have been the preferver of my 
 
 ‘ life j 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 
 *55 
 
 e life ; and enabled me to make that life a blef- 
 * fing, by fhewing me how to gain a reputation, 
 
 ‘ which refle&s more honor upon you, than upon 
 
 ‘ me. 
 
 * I can only fay, I {till beg your advice ; that 
 ‘ my conduff may anfwer my wifhes, and make 
 ‘ me a worthy member of your tribe.’ 
 
 From this day, he was conftantly at our table, 
 and a ftill more conftant inhabitant of my heart 5 
 which trembled, when my mother afked him 
 how many fprings he had lived. 
 
 I dared hardly allow myfelf to breathe, whilfc 
 he told her, that he fancied he was not eleven ; 
 he knew he was but a little pad: ten, when he 
 left England, and he thought that could not be. 
 twelve months ago. 
 
 The joy I felt, was inexpreflible, on hearing he 
 was not arrived at the fatal period. 
 
 4 
 
 He 
 

 156 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Ke continued his fludies in his own houte, 
 and in two fprings compleated a book to prove, 
 that we were originally of the fame country ; from 
 the fi.militude of the name of England and 
 Youngland ; of many words in each language ; 
 of our worfhipping the Deity, by the fame ap- 
 pellation ; and in fome parts in the fame form, 
 as the Lord’s prayer, creed, and ten command- 
 ments ; but he fhould be better able to fhew this, 
 
 when the heads of his tribe gave him leave to go 
 \ 
 
 over the whole nation. 
 
 My father (who fpent many hours every day 
 vv^fh him, and, as well as myfelf, and many 
 others, had been taught the art of writing by 
 him) quickly replied, 
 
 e You will hardly gain my approbation for 
 ‘ that fcheme ; becaufe our people are bordered 
 
 * with neighbours of a very different diipofition 
 
 * — tawny men, fierce in their natures, and cruel 
 ‘ in their practices $ defiroying in a barbarous 
 
 * manner, 
 

 CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 157 
 
 4 manner, all who go to them, and are ftran- 
 4 gers.’ 
 
 He was therefore obliged to be content with 
 this anfwer; for two fprings more, we fsw little 
 of him at our houfe ; but my ears were daily de- 
 lighted with his praifes. 
 
 4 The wonderful young man,’ as he was ge- 
 nerally called, was the theme of every tongue : 
 fo early did he infpire every perfon, that the old 
 liftened with ferious' attention ; the young were 
 only happy in feeing and hearing him ; and I, 
 far happier than any other, when fo bleft. 
 
 At the end of four fprings, he gained confent 
 
 L; f 
 
 to be abfent t o fprings ; and to take with him 
 any five of his young companions who chofe to 
 
 During which time, he was to fend a mcffen- 
 ger once a month, with a written account of his 
 employment. 
 
 By 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 158 
 
 By thefe, it was found, he diffufed knowledge 
 wherever he went ; and was a general benefac- 
 tor. 
 
 But my father (who received the greated de- 
 light from thefe tcdimonies of Wood ■■lie k me- 
 rit) was much furprized one morning, when he 
 faw the mod: honorable approach our dwelling, 
 followed by fix men, each bearing a piece of 
 painting. 
 
 This was a very unufual thing ; for the mod 
 honorable ufed to fend for thofe he wanted to 
 fpeak with, and never hardly condefcended to go 
 to them. 
 
 Ail the refpect our fimple manners permit was 
 fiibwn. 
 
 My father went out to meet, and conduct 
 him in ; and my mother, and the red of the 
 family, were ranged on the outfide the door, to 
 welcome him. 
 
 His 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 159 
 His greatnefs feated himfelf, and then faid, 
 
 ‘ Friend, as you have been the preferver of 
 r the wonderful young man, enrolled into your 
 
 5 tribe, it is fit to reward your care, by telling 
 ‘ you, he proves a mod excellent member of the 
 £ community, 
 
 *■ 
 
 ‘ I have therefore myfelf conduced hither the 
 1 meffengers' from fix tribes (which you know is 
 
 * near half our nation) which have been fent 
 « with paintings of the great fervices he has per- 
 ( formed amongft them. 
 
 ‘ Order the bearers to open the paintings, and 
 
 6 to give their own account.’ 
 
 This being done, the moil honorable faid, 
 
 *" The honorables have defirea I would fiiew 
 c my wonted juftice, in conferring favors on their 
 
 * great benefa&or. 
 
 I have 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 rSo- 
 
 4 I have confidered the paintings, and liftened 
 4 to the bearers accounts ; and, as a reward to 
 4 his deferts, I decree, that he fhall have a room 
 4 in the wall of the church yard, devoted to thefe 
 4 trophies of his merit, as our anceflors have 
 
 * had — you (hall keep the key. 
 
 4 On the outfide of the door, paint his device, 
 4 the fame that is put on his houfe door, and 
 4 mark him aged forty. 
 
 4 Ten years we gave him before he went out ; 
 4 I add five now, for each tribe he has fo well 
 4 ferved : — adding, 4 he is the firft youth, who 
 
 * has not feen fifteen fprings, that ever gained 
 4 forty years. 
 
 4 If he returns home with unfiallied credit, I 
 4 mean to meet him with a welcome that will 
 4 pleafe him.’ 
 
 One of the ftr3ngers replied, 
 
 4 Alas ! 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 161 
 
 « Alas ! he will come back to you ; wherever 
 
 < he has been, every method has been tried to 
 « prevail on him to continue there, but all in 
 ‘ vain ; he fays, he mud go home (meaning 
 « here) and then, when he can quit home (mean- 
 
 < ing where he came from) to England, to a 
 
 * father who grieves for him. 
 
 * He will not accept of any authority with us, 
 ‘ except to diredl us, which is for cur own be~ 
 ‘ nefit ” 
 
 All the Grangers faid the fame, and that e He 
 ‘ had taught many of them his language, and 
 
 * fome to write — we all endeavour to receive his 
 
 * inftru£tion — we fee in his looks he is as honed, 
 ‘ as we find him brave, generous and humane ; 
 ‘ and our rules tell us, we are never to fufpecf, 
 
 * before we have been deceived; nor ever again 
 ‘ truft the man who has deceived us ; but this 
 
 * young, and virtuous man, will never de- 
 6 ceive us.’ 
 
 The 
 
THE El I STORY OF 
 
 162 
 
 The mod honorable replied, 
 
 4 I like your gratitude, and I hope you are fa- 
 4 tisfied with myjuftice. 
 
 ‘ Tell your heads, what I have done to prove 
 4 both. 
 
 l 
 
 * To Woodville, fay — that he has defervedly 
 * attained the age of forty — he has full liberty 
 ( to go where he pleafes, and to flay as long as 
 ‘ he pleafes ; as we rely on his truth and honor, 
 4 that he will return to us, the Ten Tribes of 
 4 Camtwel! Plains, irv Youngland.’ 
 
 Alas, this meTage damped the joy I had 
 
 felt. 
 
 I had counted the hours of his ablence, with 
 
 heart-felt tranfport 1 faw the allotted time was 
 
 nearly expired. 
 
 But 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 163 
 
 But my time of forrow was to be lengthened — 
 he had leave to prolong his day ; and welllknew 
 where glory and honor called, he would conti- 
 nue. 
 
 However, I determined to devote my time to 
 the improvement of myfelf fo much, that I 
 might make an imprefllon on the only heart I 
 wiflied to gain. 
 
 In this manner, three more fprings were fpent ; 
 and then fome fad months, in which we neither 
 faw, nor heard from him. 
 
 All were uneafy ; my parents greatly fo ; but 
 their concern was but the anxiety of friendfhi p — 
 mine proceeded (though unknown to myfelf) 
 from a tenderer fource. 
 
 My mifery was greatly increafed, by my fa- 
 ther’s talking to me of marriage — mentioned the 
 youths who had chofen me 5 and bid me fix on 
 him I inofl approved. 
 
164 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Alls, he was not there ! and were he come, 
 how coaid I be Cure he would prefer me ? 
 
 I wept, and pleaded with my father. 
 
 Whether he guefTed the true caufe of my re- 
 je<Sting offers which fairer maids would have ap- 
 proved, l know not ; but he yielded to my intrea- 
 ties and difmiiTcd lovers I could not accept. 
 
 At the end of feven fprings and a half, from 
 the time Woodviile had left us, I faw my father 
 return one morning, from the manfion of the 
 moft honorable ; with fuch pleafure in his face, 
 as made my heart tremble with joy, ere he 
 fpoke. 
 
 He foon confirmed my hopes, by faying, that 
 yefterday, meffengers arrived at the manfion, 
 with the welcome account, that fix of their ol- 
 deft chiefs were conducing Woodviile home, 
 with all marks of gratitude: — —that they were 
 to ftop at Luton, three miles off. 
 
 He 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 165 
 
 He called all his dependants, and gave them 
 orders to fpend the day in feftivity ; and lay afide 
 all bufinefs, from eight in the morning till fun- 
 fet ; and the next day to prepare to meet the re- 
 turning hero. 
 
 The next morning everything was fo altered, 
 one could hardly know either the place or the 
 people. 
 
 All were adorned with things never brought 
 out, but on great occalions ; and every body 
 feerned cloathed in diamonds and precious ftones. 
 i Select bands of people playing on various 
 ; kinds of mulic ; others finging ; others carrying 
 the mod refrefhing, and pleafant liquors. 
 
 I We have none that intoxicate — mirth and 
 drunkennefs do not unite with us. 
 
 Others with balkets of fweet-meats, and cakes ; 
 others with bafkets of flowers, to ftrew the way. 
 
 Each 
 
x 6t5 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Each party keeping clofe to each other, yet in 
 great order, and all in the colour of our tribe, 
 which was blue, ornamented varioufly, where wc 
 were allowed to difplay our fancy. 
 
 My hours, from the time of my father’s ar- 
 rival, had been devoted — may I own my weak- 
 nefs, to making my poor felf appear as amiable 
 as I could. 
 
 Never had I taken fo much pains — never had 
 I fo little fucceeded, in my own opinion. 
 
 So long had I altered and changed my orna- 
 ments, that my mother, who waited for me, 
 grew impatient, and we reached the manfion but' 
 jufl: in time ; for the mo8 honorable was fet- 
 ting out, accompanied by the hcnorables, all in 
 heir robes of dignity— ^then the ancients, and 
 the fires — then the young men, according to 
 their age — then the youths of no age— next 
 
 followed 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 167 
 
 followed the matrons— and laft, went the maid- 
 ens. 
 
 We walked flowly on, for about half an hour, 
 in this order ; when mufic began, on the fight of 
 the party we went to meet. 
 
 We foon perceived people bearing Woodville’s 
 trophies ; that is to fay, paintings of the great 
 a&ions he had performed. 
 
 When the hero, and the ancients with him 
 appeared in fight, the trophy bearers parted of 
 each fide, *as did our proceffion, and made a lane 
 for the chiefs and the hero., 
 
 They prefented him to the me ft honora- 
 ble. 
 
 The model!, yet dignified appearance, his 
 reautiful perfon made on that interefiing occa- 
 lon, is as far beyond the powers of my deferib- 
 ng, as the effefils it had on my heart, are ini- 
 
1 68 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 poffble to be underflood by any, but thofe who 
 have loved like me l 
 
 He refpe&fully bowed to the mod honorable firfl 
 - — gratefully receiving t'ne’favors conferred on him ; 
 then, generally to all ; but with a marked dii- 
 tin&ion in his manner, to my parents; but of 
 me M did not feem to take any particular no- 
 tice ; ough (as he has fince told me) his heart 
 
 felt all the anima ion, the fight of a loved objedl, 
 long abfent, mud give to a feeling mind. 
 
 During this ceremony, the melody of voices, 
 and harmony of the accompanying indruments, 
 chaunting his praifes, mud have charmed every 
 ear, that was not clofed for ever. 
 
 The converfation was wholly on his exploits ; 
 it was remarkable, that the relators of them, fpoke 
 1 in his language ; and when he fpoke (which my 
 father told us, was but feldom) it was always in 
 ours. 
 
 The 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 169 
 
 The (lx old men, or chiefs, that attended him, 
 defired, after dinner, that the paintings might be 
 produced, and they be permitted to explain 
 them ; adding, that his modefty had defired 
 many things to be fuppreffed, which did him 
 equal honour; but that he faid they were only 
 what he had learned from books and obfervations 
 in his own country ; and what it gave him the 
 highed fatisfadlion to teach us; for to ferve a 
 nation, whofe whole dudy confided in prafitifing 
 virtue, and excluding vice (in whatever fpecious 
 form it might approach) mud be a delightful 
 talk, <-n'I could deferve wo recompenfe. 
 
 After this preface, they informed the mod ho- 
 norable, and the red of the company, of the 
 tranfadtions, in the following manner -; the elded 
 beginning, and the fecond taking it up, when 
 lie was tired, and fo on till the whole had been 
 related. 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 170 
 
 But before they began, Woodville begged 
 permiflion to retire ; which was granted, by the 
 molt honorable. 
 
 * When this hero,’ faid the eldefl: chief, e came 
 ‘ firfl amongft us, he found us in the depth of 
 * mifery — hourlv deploring the inroads made 
 4 upon us, by the favage Monoroys, and the 
 ‘ cruelty of their havock. 
 
 4 He made many enquiries into the manner of 1 
 6 our fighting, and of their’s, and into the na* 
 s ture of the weapons each ufed. 
 
 * He then defired to be conducted to out 
 4 forges, and workfhops. 
 
 * He found them mean, and ill qualified, ei- 
 4 ther by the (kill of the workmen, or nature of 
 * the works, to produce any ufeful effeft. 
 
 < He called in the afliftance of his five compa- 
 -* nions ; and having obtained our permiffion 3 
 
 ‘ they 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 17 1 
 
 * they gave fuch inflru&ions, and (hewed them 
 c by their own performances, the method of ex- 
 c ecuting them, that in a fortnight’s time, our 
 « ftore-houfes were filled with a variety of wea- 
 « pons, utterly unknown to us. 
 
 « He rofe every morning with the fun, and 
 < taught all that wifiied to learn the ufe of thefe 
 
 * new implements of war : in all, above a 
 
 * thoufand men became (killed in this unufual 
 6 exercife. 
 
 * He then covered pieces of glafs, with quick- 
 ( filver, and had them faftened in the front of 
 
 * each man’s cap or hat. 
 
 e Having thus prepared us for war, he taught 
 ‘ us many ufeful arts in peace ; but finding our 
 4 bad neighbours were quiet, he defired not to 
 4 moled them ; and told us, he mud leave us, 
 ‘ and go to another nation, as he was to return 
 
 * toCamtweil, at the expiration of two fprings. 
 
 I J ‘ Two 
 

 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ Two days after his departure (which 
 ' 4 though we had greatly grieved for, we found 
 4 additional caufe to lament) the inhuman Mo. 1 
 4 noroys ftole upon us by night ; deftroying, , 
 4 in a mod cruel manner, every thing they met 
 4 with, excepting the women and children ; 
 
 '* whom, to our inexpreffible forrow, they carried 
 ' 4 away with them. 
 
 * Our arms were of little ufe ; we were attack- 
 
 * ed in the dark, and over powered by numbers ; 
 
 * and as we well knew the Monoroys firft ufe the 
 4 women as their barbarous pafiions direS, and 
 4 then eat them and the children, our horrors 
 4 were not to be defcribed. 
 
 4 Luckily fome, who had nothing worth faving 
 4 but their lives, ran away : — one of thefe meet- 
 4 ing with Woodville, gave him the fhocking 
 • 4 detail of our fufferings. 
 
 4 The youth, without hefitating a moment, 
 c mounted his horfe (a kind ot deer, fo fierce, 
 
 4 even 
 
CHARLES MANDE VJLLE. 173 
 
 ,even he could never manage him, but by blitSd- 
 ‘ ing his eyes ; and though he would not bear 
 ‘ the touch of a whip or fpur, or even a faddle » 
 4 yet, with his mailer’s droaking and fpeaking 
 ‘ to him, became fo gentle as to be guided by a 
 * flight rein; he loved this creature fo much, 
 ‘ that he has brought him hither) and foon he 
 1 returned to us. 
 
 He found me lamenting, with bitter tears and 
 4 lamentations, the captivity of my wife, my 
 e mother, filler, and four children. 
 
 ‘ All he fpoke to, had fimilar misfortunes. 
 
 ‘ He fliewed us, that our grief, however jufl, 
 4 would produce no remedy— that could only 
 ‘ be obtained by our valour ; and exhorted all 
 4 who had courage, to follow him. 
 
 ‘ He proceeded dire&Iy to the rtore-houfe of 
 4 our arms and ammunition, followed by a great 
 1 multitude. 
 
 4 He 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 T 74 
 
 ‘ He chofe out five hundred of the abled, to 
 
 * continue under him ; ordering all the remain- 
 ‘ der to march different roads — not to attempt 
 ‘ fighting, 0 if they could avoid it, titt all parties 
 ‘ met ; faying, ‘ The glafs in your caps, will 
 ‘ enable you to diftinguifh your friends from 
 ‘ your enemies. 
 
 ‘ He defired each man to take bread, &c. 
 
 * enough to lad five days. 
 
 * He immediately fet forward the direct road, 
 
 * with his chofen band. 
 
 ‘ The third day, we were in fight of the ene- 
 ‘ my’s chief town ; our detached parties were alfo 
 ‘ come up to us. 
 
 ‘ The enemy poured out by fun rife, the next 
 « day, in fuch fwarms, as would have terrified us, 
 
 * had we not foon found, that our new arms 
 4 laved us from their attack. 
 
 4 Their 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE, 1 75 
 
 f Their arrows fell harmlefs on our targets ; 
 
 •' Avhilft our [pears and cutlaflfes, created infinite 
 i ‘ havock amongfl: them. 
 
 < But [fill more arrived to fupply the place 
 
 * of thofe that fell amongfl; this lad body of 
 
 4 Monoroys, was their king. 
 
 | * The fun was now high, and flione out 
 
 1 bright; — the reflection from the glafs, almofl: 
 
 * blinded, and completely terrified them ; fo that 
 6 they threw away their bows, ar ows, knives 
 
 * and hatchets, and fell on their faces. 
 
 ‘ We immediately demanded the prifoners j* 
 4 afking, eagerly, if they were fafe. 
 
 4 They declared, they had not eaten one yet, 
 
 4 nor had perfuaded one woman to yield to their 
 4 wilhes, 
 
 4 Our hero, unwilling to deflroy more lives, 
 4 commanded hoftilities to ceafe, in cafe this 
 
 4 proved 
 
n 
 
 176 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * proved true ; and bid them lead him to the 
 ‘‘captives, as they were all alive and unhurt. 
 
 ‘ He then ordered the enemy’s weapons to be 
 
 * piled on a heap, and fet fire to. 
 
 ‘ This done, we entered heir city; our hero, 
 
 ‘ giving orders that no damage fhould be done 
 4 to their pofTeffions, nor any outrage committed 
 ‘ on the perfon of any of its inhabitants who are 
 ‘ peaceable. 
 
 ' 
 
 4 This clemency made them look upon us, as 
 ‘ more than mortal ! 
 
 4 He then ordered all the women and children 
 ‘ that had been taken from us, to be brought 
 ‘ forth. 
 
 ‘ I fhould have obferved, that before, he had. 
 ‘ taken only their number from our account, and 
 4 gone alone to reckon them ; not choofing to 
 4 trull us with the fight of objects fo dear to us, 
 
 4 whilfl 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 
 whiltt it was poffible there might be a neceflity 
 to avenge the general caufe. 
 
 e Think, oh ! mod honorable, and hono- 
 rables, that our heads — think what mud be the 
 joy of each of us, when , we again beheld our 
 wives, our chijLen, our mothers, and our 
 fitters ! 
 
 * After we had given way to fenfations impof- 
 fible to be defcribed, our brave warrior came to 
 us, faying, 
 
 ‘ Let us now determine what is proper to be 
 done, to convert your enemies into friends.’ 
 
 ‘ We all called out with one voice, we would 
 be dire&ed by him. 
 
 Then, cried our brave commander, 1 let 
 us teach them humanity— let us daughter no 
 more lives ; but fhew mercy to the poor wretch- 
 es, who prove willing to bring in their arms, 
 ^ 3 £ and 
 
V 
 
 178 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * and fubmit to us — let us allow for national 
 
 * cuftoms — it is theirs to be cruel — may our ex- 
 
 * ample teach them to be humane. 
 
 * If any among you can fpeak their language, 
 
 ‘ let them come tome.’ 
 
 » ] 
 
 * Two of our men, who could, immediately 
 
 came. 
 
 * He ordered them to proclaim, that all who 
 4 would bring their arms, and acknowledge us 
 
 . 4 the conquerors, fhould be freely pardoned. 
 
 4 He then commanded all his friends to kneel 
 4 down publicly, and jointly return thanks to 
 
 * God for their fuccefs. 
 
 4 The inhabitants of the city, who had been 
 4 clamoroOs^in their fcreeches and lamentations, 
 
 4 no foonert heard the proclamation, than they 
 4 were as loud in their prail'es of the vigor’s cle- 
 4 mency. 
 
 ‘ Immediately 
 
CHARLES MANDEYILLE. 
 
 2 7P- 
 
 4 Immediately they brought us ali forts of pro’ 
 
 * vifions, and a plentiful ftore of drink. 
 
 4 Mod of us had eaten heartily ; and were juft 
 4 going to quench our thirft, when the two men, 
 
 4 who had been fent to make proclamation, en- 
 4 tered with the king of the country. 
 
 4 He direcftly overturned, or broke all the vef- 
 4 fels that contained the liquor ; and fpoke in a 
 4 very loud tone, and feemingly angry tone, 
 4 to his people. 
 
 4 He then demanded Which was our chief. 
 
 4 The two men having pointed him out, he 
 4 made an obeifance ; and defired the men to 
 4 explain to us the following fpeech — 
 
 I am thefe wretches’ king; but not the di- 
 4 recfor of their bafenefs. 
 
 4 The army I led out againft you, can all 
 4 witnefs for me, I was ignorant of- the mifchief 
 
180 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * the invaders had done in your country, till it 
 
 * was too late to prevent it. . 
 
 ^ « 
 ‘ ^ am n °w more happy, in arriving time 
 
 * enough to prevent the cruel effect of the trea- 
 
 * chery intended you. 
 
 . . i ■* 
 
 e The liquors, brought you by thefe bad men, 
 
 4 under the mafic of friendfhip, were all poifon- 
 4 ed ; and had I been ten minutes later, your 
 4 lives would have been facrificed to their bafe 
 4 inhumanity.’ 
 
 ‘ To prove this he called a dog, and made 
 4 him drink fome of the liquor that was on the * 
 4 ground ; with horror, we faw him expire in a 
 4 few minutes, in fhocking torments 
 
 4 The King then called for Zamor, and Guia- 
 4 far ; prefenting them to our hero, he faid 
 
 ML . 
 
 c Thefe are trufty, honeft men — you may 
 4 Confide in them : — with me, yon may do what 
 4 you pleafe, but ah, fpare my fon ! 
 
 Give 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 1S1 
 
 ' -* 
 
 * Give what orders you think proper for your 
 
 * fafety, and be our friends j and I think I can 
 ‘ anfwer for it, you will not repent it.’ 
 
 * Whilft he was fpeaking, Zamor and Guiafar 
 
 * came with vefTels of drink ; prefented fome of 
 
 * it to the king, he tailed it, and defired it might 
 
 * be given round. 
 
 ( The two interpreters informed us, that he 
 ‘ requelled, that for a few minutes, he might 
 f be permitted to aft with the fame authority he 
 1 had formerly done. 
 
 * Content being given, he immediately gave 
 ‘ orders that every one of thofe ungrateful, 
 ‘ treacherous wretches, fhoutd be Hain. 
 
 * He was direftly obeyed. 
 
 * J 
 
 ( They fell, without exciting compaffion, even 
 ‘ i f rom their fellow citizens : for nature, in its 
 s uncultivated Hate, abhors treachery and deceit. 
 
 * Our 
 
182 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 Our friendly king (who had been reinftated 
 
 * in the throne, by the clemency of our hero) 
 
 * told us, by the means of the two interpreters, 
 
 * that if we could conquer the neighbours on the 
 
 * right hand of that city, we fhould have no oc- 
 
 * cafion to fear any future moleftation ; and in 
 
 * gratitude to us he offered to affift us. 
 
 4 After debating amongft ourfelves, upon the 
 
 * wifdom of the fcheme, we agreed to undertake 
 4 it, if our vidtorious commander would direct 
 
 * our plans. 
 
 « Succefsful as it proved in the end, it was 
 4 very near being fatal to us, to you, and to 
 4 mankind ; by being the caufe of the greateff 
 4 misfortune — the lots of our brave young leader 1 
 
 4 He and two of nis moll intimate compani- 
 4 ons, having tired themfelves with walking, 
 e cne day lay down to lleep in a foreft. 
 
 * A bear 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 1 83 
 
 * A bear iffued out of the thickeft part of it, 
 
 * and attacked them with great fury. 
 
 * Woodvilie, though firft and tnofl: hurt, 
 
 ( ftruck the bear with his cutlafs; this made the 
 
 * bear more fierce, and he feverely wounded 
 
 * him ; but at length, the united efforts of our 
 
 * hero, and his companions, defiroyed the fero- 
 ‘ cious animal. 
 
 * But their joy was foon damped, on perceiv- 
 i ing hoy/ much Woodvilie was hurt, and that 
 
 * he was fainting with lofs of blood; when a 
 c peafant happening to pafs that way, and learn- 
 
 j e ing the caufe of their diftrefs, ran into the 
 ‘ wood, with amazing fwiftnefs, and, in a 
 ‘ fhort time, returned with fome herb of fove- 
 : ‘ reign ufe to flop bleeding, and heal the mod 
 1 defperate wound. 
 
 * He {lamped upon it, and applied it to the 
 
 * parts, covered them with a leaf, and bound 
 1 them, fo as to keep on this herb. 
 
i8 4 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 < In ten days the wounds were perfe&ly heal- 
 « ed; but he was ftill fo weak, from lofing fo 
 s large a quantity of blood, that he was obliged 
 « to continue in that country fome time. 
 
 ‘ Happy was this accident in the event ; for 
 ‘ by his continuance amongft thefe favages, 
 
 4 he civilized them wonderfully ; — they loved, 
 
 6 admired, and obeyed him ! calling him by the i 
 ‘ name of the god they worlhipped ! and being | 
 4 willing to adore him as fuch, he found it there- 
 
 * fore an eafy matter to fettle a peace, productive 
 
 * of mutual benefit to all parties. 
 
 ‘ But the great difficulty was, to bring thefe 
 e favages to bind themfelves, in a manner their 
 ‘ laws made facred, not to eat human flefh 
 4 again. 
 
 4 However, when they were convinced, that I 
 ‘ without fuch vows, Woodville and his friends 
 ‘ were determined to confider them as enemies, 
 
 4 they 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 1 8 5 
 
 ‘ they at length confented ; and took their moll 
 ‘ folemn oath, never more to eat human flefh ; 
 
 ‘ and as a proof of their fincerity, they brought 
 c us all the captives, referved for their barbarous 
 
 • feafts : — amongfl thefe, was Mr. Chriftopher 
 ‘ Ware, an Englifnman, who had been fhip- 
 ‘ wrecked, and fallen into the hands of thefe fa- 
 ‘ vages. 
 
 * Had you feen the joy our commander difco- 
 
 * vered at the fight of his countryman, you would 
 ‘ have melted into tears, as we all did, who' 
 ‘ were prefent. 
 
 * One of our paintings will ihew you this 
 ‘ fcene ; others will alfo (hew his wifdom, va- 
 £ lour, and humanity ; whilft others reprefent 
 e how kind, and beneficent he has been to us. 
 
 *. He has taught us to make inflruments that 
 ‘ will cultivate our lands with lefs labour, and to 
 
 more 
 
1 86 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * more advantage ; — he has inftructed us how to 
 ‘ ufe them. 
 
 4 He has directed us to improve our hou'es ; 
 4 and to make fome tenement under ground to 
 4 fly to, for a defence again ft hurricanes. 
 
 e He taught a moft ingenious workman to 
 4 make a wonderful machine, to hold a be!!; 
 
 * which ftrikes the hours, and tells what time it 
 4 is, when we cannot fee the fun. 
 
 4 Many of us underftand his language now, 
 4 as well as we do our own. — But the paintings 
 4 cannot exprefs his mild, humble, and generous 
 
 * behaviour to us. 
 
 4 A lftranger would fuppofe he was the obliged, 
 4 and we his benefactors ; whereas our greateft 
 4 praile has been, that not one amongft us has 
 4 ever fhewn any envy of him, or ever fpoke a 
 4 word thac has not been in his praile. 
 
 4 To 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 187 
 
 4 To conclude (though we could go on tor 
 many moons in repeating his merits) it is our 
 unanimous requeft, that you, moil honorable, 
 
 : the head of all the tribes, will confer the high. 
 
 : eft dignity our rules will permit, on the great- 
 : eft, and beft man we ever knew ; and that 
 j‘ you will think well of our tribes, for thus re- 
 4 turning in fafety, the moft ufeful friend, and 
 1 kindeft benefa&or ; and fo with wifhes for 
 * your health and profperity, and that of the 
 ■ 4 Ten Tribes, committed to your immediate care, 
 
 4 we take our leaves.’ 
 i 
 
 The fpeaker flopped. 
 
 4 Such a filent attention had been afforded 
 him, as was furprifing in fo numerous an audi- 
 ence ; but then the applaufe from every mouth, 
 burft forth fo inftantaneoufly, that nothing dif- 
 tin&ly could be heard, till Emargon, the moft 
 honorable, rofe up to fpeak. 
 
 When 
 
1 88 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 When all was hufhed again — 
 
 ‘ Stay, chiefs, at my defire, that you may ; 
 4 hear, and report to our friends, how readily 
 4 I comply with their juft requefts ; and what 
 4 pleafure it gives me to find fuch grateful hearts 
 4 in the people committed to my care.’ 
 
 His greatnefs then ordered Woodville to be { 
 fought for. 
 
 As foon as he appeared, the moft honorable 
 with a becoming ferioufnefs in his countenance, 
 laid, 
 
 4 Welcome, thou worthy young man ! — 
 
 4 young in fprings, but old, very old in every 
 4 virtue that can make a man deferve to be loved 
 * and honoured, by a virtuous, brave, and free 
 4 people ; who are too noble to envy merit, 
 
 4 where they find it ; and too honeft to applaud, 
 
 4 where it is not deferved. 
 
 4 Such 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE i 9 
 
 ‘ Such are the people who require of me, that 
 [ ftiould reward you to the utmofl: of my power. 
 
 f You deferve my rank, but as the general 
 ' voice gave it to me, I hold it as a duty incum- 
 ' bent upon me, never to part with it ; unlefs 
 thofe who gave it, demand it of me; but what 
 I can with honor give, you fhall receive. 
 
 ‘ I made you forty years of age, before your 
 
 [ return ; I now make you fixty — you can ad- 
 vance but ten more; and can gain thofe only 
 by filling my place.’ 
 
 Woodville advancing to kifs his hand, Emargon 
 hought he was going to kneel, and drew back ; 
 utobferving his miftake, he faid, 
 
 ‘ Pardon me, for fuppofing you ignorant of 
 our rules, which enjoin us to kneel, when 
 children, to our earthly parents ; but when we 
 are grown up, only to our God.— May that Al- 
 mighty Governor of the world, blefs you in 
 
 < every 
 
 \mh 
 
i go THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 every virtuous act and defire ! — may your own 
 
 * parent live to know, and rejoice at the high 
 
 * honors you have merited from a generous peo- 
 
 4 pie, who know how to diftinguifh, and reward 
 4 virtue.’ f 
 
 The mod honorable then took off his hat, and 
 waving it in the air, gave a fignal for thofe fhouts 
 of joy, which could hardly be retrained till 
 he had done fpeaking. 
 
 Tears were foon obferved, where lead ex- 
 pe£ted; when Emargon named 4 The parent’} 
 
 j°y-’ 
 
 Our hero fhewed a feminine foftnefs, and the 
 tender emotions he felt, for fome minutes choak- 
 cd his voice ; at the fame time, every father 
 wifhed their fon like him. 
 
 Recovering his wonted calmnefs, he thanked 
 the mod honorable with the fame modeft grace, 
 that accompanies all his aftions. 
 
 Emargor 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 191 
 
 Emargon then gave orders to fit up a houfe fui- 
 table to Woodville’s high dignity; and com- 
 manded the paintings that the fix chiefs had 
 brought, fhould be conveyed to that repolitory 
 he had before affigned for Woodville’s trophies; 
 and then difmiffed the afTembly, that each 
 might end with cheerfulnefs, a day that had gi- 
 ven fo much pleafure. 
 
 We all retired from the mofl honorable’s man- 
 fion ; each one of our tribe invited whom they 
 pleafed ; and Woodville, and his Englifh friend, 
 accompanied my father and mother, and myfelfs 
 to our abode. 
 
 After dinner, we had finging and mufic, and 
 concluded the evening with dancing. 
 
 My father had requeued the chiefs that accom- 
 panied Woodville, to flay that day, and enjoy 
 (the jubilee made for the return of their loved 
 hero. 
 
 if 
 
192 the history of 
 
 of his ferioufnefs, and partake of the feftivity of 
 the day. 
 
 The following month was the happieffc I had 
 then ever known : I enjoyed the trueft delight 
 an innocent mind can feel in converfing many 
 hours every day, with the foie poffeffor of my 
 heart. 
 
 Fleeting hours ! too foon they paffed, and gave 
 way to many painful ones l for Woodville then 
 declined being fo much at our houfe — leldom 
 joi ned us in our walks or paftime ; and to me, 
 v /ho knew neither joy or forrow, but as created 
 by him — thofe walks, and paflimes, had no lon- 
 ger power to charm ! 
 
 My father was almoft conftantly with- him ; 
 declaring his fociety was more inftru&ive, and 
 more pleafing, than any other he could find. 
 
 In this way, fix more moons paffed on ; after 
 which, I heard of a plan formed by Woodville, 
 
 and 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 *93 
 
 It was pleafant to obfcrve with what furprife 
 they viewed the man, whom they had feen only 
 as an indru£lor, and a warrior, dived: himfelf 
 and executed by his directions, that was thought 
 the mod beneficial, that had ever been known 
 ' in Youngland; for it remedied the greated mis- 
 fortune the country laboured under, which was 
 the want of water. 
 
 Three large lakes fupplied us with all we had ; 
 and the fetching it from thence, was very trou- 
 blefome. 
 
 Woodvilie convinced our mod honourable, 
 that he could, by pipes under ground, convey 
 it to every houfe ; his orders were dri&Iy fol- 
 lowed, and the event anfwered beyond expec- 
 tation. 
 
 The joy and gratitude of all the people was fo 
 great, they loaded their benefa£tor with their 
 mod valuable gifts, which were their choiced ; 
 feathers, gold, diamonds, and precious denes, 
 
 K they 
 
194 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 » 
 
 they feat him an abundance of ; not becaufe 
 they thought them valuable enough to be a re- 
 ward for fo great a fervice as had been done 
 them, but becaufe they underflood they were 
 eflimable in his country. 
 
 He received their prefents, with the fame mo- 
 defly, and gracioufnefs he had ever fhown. 
 
 His countryman, having by this time learned, 
 how fatal a longer ft 2 y in our nations would 
 probably prove ; as he was of mature age, when 
 he came amongft us,' determined to leave 
 Youngland, and try to return home. 
 
 Wooaville wifhed to accompany him ; my 
 father ftrongly oppofed it, fet before him the dan- 
 gers, and little probability there was, of his ever 
 reaching his native home. — the only place he 
 preferred to this. 
 
 Whilfl this matter was in debate, my furrer- 
 ings were dreadful- 
 
 How 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 195 
 
 How can I relate the dumb forrows of a heart, 
 that had ruined itfelf with love ? I had no caufe 
 to reproach myfelf for my choice, indeed, for 
 who could blame me for admiring the mod perfect 
 of the human race ? 
 
 * 
 
 He pofTeffes a wifdom that was unequalled— 
 the moll courageous fpirit, foftened with the 
 gentled manners; a heart fo pure, that error 
 and falfehood never gained admittance in it ; 
 they found no friendly paffion to countenance 
 them ; neither could I reproach him ; he had 
 
 j taken no pains to win my artlefs love. 
 
 1 • 
 
 My haplefs fituation foon reduced me to a truly 
 ^pitiable date; an unhappy: mind, ocafioned a 
 difordered body ; and Iofs of deep, and want of 
 appetite, banithed the rofes from my cheeks, 
 and reduced me to fuch weaknefs, I was unable 
 to leave my room. 
 
 oodvule, who had long feen, and grieved 
 !or m y bufferings ; fpent much time with me, 
 K 2 and 
 
1 96 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 and the friend of my youth, my dear Mura j 
 who hardly ever left me. 
 
 She had been my loved companion, from the 
 days of childifh innocence ; Ihe alone had been 
 the confident of my forrows, my joys, my hopes, 
 and my fears ! 
 
 One day Woodville, finding me alone, feem- 
 ed for a little time loft in thought ; then fudden- 
 !y roufing himfelf, he took my hand and faid 
 4 my dear Agnes, thou filler of my heart, I mull 
 4 feize this opportunity, to unfold that heart to 
 ‘ you. 
 
 4 We are both above deceit, I fcruple the lef 
 4 therefore, to confefs to you, that I am wretch 
 ‘ ed ; not all the honors heaped upon me, car 
 4 mitigate the torment I endure, at feeing my 
 4 felf the caufe of your illnefs. 
 
 4 It has been my conftant endeavour, finci 
 c I perceived your partiality to me, to avoi< 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 197 
 
 r making you unhappy ; for this purpofe, I 
 ' have, fince my return to Camtwell, frequent- 
 ly ly abfented myfelf from this loved houfe, left 
 | 
 
 : I fliould be the means of your ftill refufing 
 ' offers, that would be thought worth your ac- 
 cepting, were you not prepoffeffed in my 
 
 1 favour. 
 
 * 
 
 « 
 
 ; ‘ I have gone too far now, not to tel! you 
 every thought of my heart ; oh ! that your’s 
 could receive comfort, by reading in that 
 heart, that it prefers you to every other fair. 
 
 * From your attachment, and your parent’s 
 goodnefs, I might hope for every happinefs 
 r arifing from fuch a union ; could it be found- 
 ed on virtue!— But alas, it mull not be; 
 I muft not wed here ! you know my ftory 5 
 you know I have an offended father. 
 
 I trull. Heaven and he, will forgive my 
 fault ; but till I am forgiven by him, and re- 
 'ftored his favour, I cannot be happy, 
 
 • e I 
 
 y 
 
 I jte 
 
* I cannot therefore marry and fettle in 
 4 Youngland ; — it would be an ill return to make 
 
 e your amiable tendernefs, to give you a runaway, i 
 ‘ whofe confcience is loaded with guilt ; who 1 
 
 * would, though bled with you, hourly feel the 
 ‘ reproaches of his own mind. 
 
 * I cannot therefore flay here !—— I cannot I 
 ‘ forfake the wife who loves me 3 neither can I 
 
 * refolye to give up for ever, the father I have of- 
 
 * fended ! 
 
 * Pity me, my dear Agnes ! let the love of 
 
 * truth, which infpires us both, operate fo, as 
 
 * to prevent your blaming me, if I have been 
 ‘ too prefumptuous in fuppofing myfelf fo dear 
 ‘ to you. 
 
 ‘ I almoft wifli I may have been fo ; as then, 
 
 * you will comply with your friends wilhes, and 
 
 * unite with fome equally worthy, and more J 
 
 * happy man I 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 199 
 
 4 I confefs to you, your parents and I have 
 f often converfed on this topic; they fee, and 
 4 feel for my bufferings ; confult with them ; 
 
 ■ * let their counfel direfit you. 
 
 4 Oh ! may it teach you to find more happi- 
 ‘ nefs than can be enjoyed by me, who am con- 
 4 fidered as the mod fortunate, and bleft of mor- 
 4 tals ; alas ! how little do they guefs the mifc- 
 4 ries I endure 1 
 
 * If my peace of mind is dear to you, endea- 
 4 vour to regain your health and fpirits ; — make 
 
 * a noble effort — an effort worthy of your piety, 
 
 * your tendernefs for your parents, and your ex- 
 
 * alted understanding. 
 
 ' 
 
 4 The greatnefs of your mind, fhould not 
 4 fhrink under difficulties ! — ’ 
 
 ( At this inflant, his voice faultered ; — he flopp- 
 ed fpeaking, and his eyes met mine- — both were 
 filled with tears— I could fpeak no other lan- 
 guage/than thofe too expreffive tears. 
 
 Ke 
 
200 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 He filently, and tenderly killed my hand, 
 and inftantly rufhed out of the room. 
 
 My mother hearing him go haftily away, 
 came diredtly to me : — ftie found me in a paflion 
 of grief, I could not retrain — Are tenderly Tooth- 
 ed my forrows — fat with me till I w'ent to bed ; 
 giving me fome drops, to compofe my frame. 
 
 A ’out two hours after the family were at reff, 
 we heard a dreadful noife, and were foon alarm- 
 ed by the cry of fire ! 
 
 I opened my eyes, and faw the flames burfling 
 into my room ! 
 
 I threw on a loofe gown, and haftily ran to 
 the window’-— I was trying to open it, with a 
 defign to fling myfelf out, when I found myfelf 
 caught by fome to !v behind me, and haftily car- 
 ried away. 
 
 I fainted in the arms of my fupporter, without 
 knowing who it was that faved my life. 
 
 How 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 201 
 
 How long I remained infenfi'ole, I know not ; 
 bat the firft objedi; that prefented itfelf to my re- 
 turning fight, was my beloved Mura : I looked 
 | with an anxious enquiring countenance, yet 
 dared not enquire. 
 
 She, who had long been able to read my 
 ; thoughts, faid, 
 
 ‘ Let us be thankful, my dear Agnes, no lives 
 ( are loft ! — all are happily, and wonderfully 
 * preferved 1’ 
 
 * Oh ! tell me,’ I cried, e all you know of 
 ‘ this fad difafter. 
 
 f TVhere are my parents ? where am I ? how 
 
 I ‘ came I here ?’ 
 
 e Your mother gave you a compofing draught, 
 
 ‘ as (he dreaded the efFedis of your agitation in 
 ‘ your weak ftate ; — this lulled your forrovvs to 
 ‘ reft ; —but poor Woodville’s kept him waking ; 
 
 ! which has been the means of our preferva- 
 c tion. 
 
 K 3 
 
 ‘ lie 
 
2*02 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 He and his friend were walking at midnight, 
 
 4 in the grove ; talking over the fubject that 
 ‘ diftreffed his mind ; when they obferved an 
 4 unufual light from your father’s houfe. 
 
 * They were foon convinced it was on fire, 
 
 4 and flew to affift ; but the flames had increafed 
 
 * fo much, ere they reached it, that it was with 
 
 * difficulty they could get to the chambers. 
 
 ‘ The flranger brought out your mother ; Snd 
 
 * Woodville ruflied through the fire to fave you. 
 
 4 He overtook me, with you* feemingly dead 
 4 in his arms. 
 
 * He flopped my cries, by alluring me you 
 4 were in a fwoon ; but as his houfe was too far 
 ‘ off, he propofed entering this houfe, which 
 » we found empty ; for all the inhabitants had 
 4 left the neighbouring houfes, fearing the fire 
 * would extend to them ; and, (uch as were ab.e, 
 4 were themfelves employed in trying to extin- 
 4 sruilh the flames. 
 
 O 
 
 4 When 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 203 
 
 * When Woodville faw your fenfes returning, 
 
 * he told me he Ihould leave you to my care, as 
 4 he might be of more ufe elfewhere. 
 
 4 About an hour ago, I heard voices, and 
 
 * people walking in the houfe -feeing a light 
 4 in the next room, I opened the door, and faw 
 4 Moina (Hubert’s filler) there ; fine told me Ihe 
 4 was coming to fupply my place, and fit by you, 
 
 4 requeuing I would go to her bed. 
 
 ' 
 
 4 I confented to half her defire, as I wiflied 
 
 * to enquire into the particulars of the fire. 
 
 4 I begged her to Hay in the room with you, 
 4 and went myfeif into the hall, from whence 
 4 the voices came. 
 
 1 
 
 4 There I found your Father, Woodville, 
 4 Ware, Hubert, and many others, all re- 
 j 4 joicing in the happy effe&s of Woodville’s Iate- 
 | 4 ly executed plan of conveying water ; which 
 4 had now been the means of putting out the fire, 
 4 oefore any confiderable damage was done ; 
 
 4 whereas 
 
204 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 « whereas formerly, one houfe was feldom left, 
 
 * when once fuch a misfortune happened. 
 
 4 They praifed him for his a&ive vigilance 
 4 and care in directing the men; fo that only 
 
 * three houfes had fuffered. 
 
 * I learned alfo, that your mother was fafe at 
 4 her brother’s houfe, having only fuffered from 
 4 terrors for you ; and when fhe had been inform- 
 
 * ed of your fafety, confented to remain there. 
 
 4 Hearing that every tiling was far better than 
 £ I could have hoped, I returned to you, whofe 
 4 reafon I found was returning ; therefore I in- 
 4 lifted on Moina’s leaving you to my care, as I 
 4 was unwilling fhe lhould be a wit nets to the 
 4 efFuilons of your heart — that heart which will, 
 e I hope, now be eafy.’ 
 
 4 Alas ! my Mura,’ fa'd I, 4 eafe will never 
 4 be my lot! but I mull not repine: — God has 
 - been very merciful to us — his will be done; 
 
 4 yet 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 205 
 
 ‘ yet too true it is, painful days, and fleeplefs 
 e nights, will be my fate for many a day, ere I 
 e regain my loll tranquility ; but my patient fub- 
 ‘ million fhall fhow, I can love and fuffer much, 
 
 * yet ft ill love on. 
 
 ‘ May my recompenfe be found in Wood- 
 
 * ville’s being happy ! oh, may he never fed 
 ‘ my forrovvs : 
 
 ' ‘ Blefs him, oh ! thou Almighty Power, in 
 ‘ every wifti his worthy heart can form !’ ’’ 
 
 Oppreffed with my grief and weaknefs, I felj 
 into a found fleep — waked revived, nnd with a 
 cheerfulnefs I had not felt for fome time • took 
 fome refrefhment, and rofe, alas, to experience 
 f refit forrows ! 
 
 I faw all my friends, excepting him my heart 
 moft wifhed to fee. 
 
 Ah, I did not then know the extent of my 
 woe! him I muft not fee ; for my evil deftiny 
 
 had 
 
 r 
 
20 6 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 had contrived, that the houfe he had carried me 
 to, was Hubert’s! — a fingle man — a rejeded 
 lover — I had flayed there all night ! 
 
 Too foon I learned the horrors of my fate — 
 this accident gave him a right to demand me in 
 marriage : — he immediately claimed his right of 
 my father. 
 
 My tender parents told me of this additional 
 misfortune ; adding, I knew the indifpenfable 
 rules of our nation ; gave me no other choice, 
 but to wed Hubert, or to leave my father’s houfe, 
 and go into the clafs of * ufeful employments,’ 
 within a fortnight ; which time was a'llowed me, 
 to make my option. 
 
 I helitated not one moment which to fix upon ! 
 
 Death would have been preferable to the mar- 
 rying of any man but Woodville. 
 
 I went back to my parent’s home, for the al- 
 lotted time ; but never was allowed to fee the 
 objedl my loul doted on. 
 
 He 
 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 207 
 
 He wrote to me every day ; not as a lover, 
 but as a friend and brother. 
 
 His eloquence was prevalent ; he reafoned fo 
 juftly, and yet fo tenderly, that he infpired me 
 with fortitude ; and I left my father’s houfe, 
 with more compofure, >than could be expedted. 
 
 The branches of bufinefs I chofe, (for all have 
 power to chufe) were painting and embroidery. 
 
 Thefc occupations amufed my mind, and I by 
 degrees regained my health. 
 
 
 I 
 
 Woodville was then permitted to vifit me often ; 
 for the rules of this clafs do not prohibit fociety ; 
 they forbid a perfon from fleeping from home, 
 but allow them to fee their friends ; and permit 
 them to marry, either one of the fame clafs ; 
 or if of a fuperior clafs, a perfon not Iefs than 
 thirty years old. 
 
 But then, the head of the clafs is to be confult- 
 ed, indead of the maiden’s father ; for the head 
 is to be edeemed as the father, who lofes all pa- 
 ternal 
 
208 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 iy' 
 
 ternal right over his child, after entered the clafs 
 of * ufeful employments.’ 
 
 My hours were lefs painful than I could have 
 expected. 
 
 My love was not lefTcned ; but time had taught 
 me refignation ; and by never allowing myfelf 
 to be idle, I learned to bear my lot without mur- 
 muring. 
 
 When one dear blefTed day, my beloved 
 Woodville entered, with an unufual cheerfulnefs 
 in his countenance. 
 
 He told me (oh ! joyful found ! it {fill vi- 
 brates on my ear) ‘ that the head of that clafs 
 « had gratified his ardent defire ; and that he 
 * hoped, I would not be againfl: his being happy!’ 
 
 1 I againfl it! faid I ; £ no! furely your hap- 
 1 pinefa is the firfl wi.li of my heart. 
 
 < If you are going to marry, may the happy 
 « maiden love you as I have done ; if fhe can. 
 
 ‘ c'o 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 209 
 
 * do it farther, I am ftill ignorant of the power of 
 4 love. 
 
 4 Long as I have been its votary, my comfort, 
 4 in all my borrows, has been, that I have not 
 
 * hurt your glory. 
 
 4 Shall I now wifli to hinder your happinefs ? 
 
 4 Ah ! Agnes’ faid the dear youth, 4 have 
 4 you fo little penetration, as to think my peace 
 4 of mind can be reftored, by a union with any 
 4 other woman but yourfelf. ? nay, even with 
 4 you, can I hope it will be perfect ; for do I 
 4 not labour under misfortunes, which, not all 
 4 the honors this dear country have loaded me 
 4 with, can efface ? nay, fhall I not add to 
 4 them ? 
 
 
 1 
 
 4 I have robbed my own father of his eldeff 
 4 fon; and fhall rob your’s cf his only child ; 
 4 for furely, when you fo generoufly wifned hap- 
 4 pinefs to the wife I chofe, you did not recollect, 
 4 you mu ft be that wife ! 
 
250 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 4 May thofe wifhes light on your own dear 
 4 head ! for you, Agnes ! are the only woman 
 ‘ fhall tempt me to unite in a foreign land. 
 
 4 Yet I tremble for the event; as I fear the 
 
 * conditions of our union, may wound your 
 4 peace of mind: but I love truth, as much as 
 4 I do my Agnes. 
 
 4 I rnufl not therefore deceive you ! 
 
 4 Ware fets out in three days, to endeavour 
 
 * to regain Europe 1 — If he is happy enough to 
 4 fucceed, he fends a fh ip for me. 
 
 4 Now, Agnes, decide my fate ; weigh well 
 4 your own determination ! can your afFe&ion 
 4 for me, be great enough to compenfate for the 
 4 quitting your parents, your friends, and your 
 4 country ! and reconcile you to many hardships, 
 ' 4 it may be, even my tendernefs cannot fhield 
 4 you from, ere we reach my native land ? 
 
 4 Confider 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 211 
 
 < Confider the fubjeft thoroughly, and forgive 
 
 * the prefumption that arifes from my fincerity, 
 
 * in propofing conditions to the beloved or my 
 
 * foul 1’ 
 
 * Oh 1 my heart’s beft treafure ! it requires 
 
 * no time to confider and weigh the matter ! 
 
 * I am willing to be your wife, to {hare with 
 
 * you every danger, and difficulty 1 you are 
 
 * parents, friends, and country to medr—but 
 ‘ is it poffible, that you, who are now arrived 
 
 * to the dignity of an honorable of fixty years, 
 ( can condefcend to take me, degraded as I am ! 
 
 * no longer to be confidered as the daughter of 
 ‘ an honorable, but as one of the clafs, fo much 
 ‘ beneath their honors ?’ 
 
 ‘ Call not yourfelf by fo undeferved an epithet ! 
 
 * fay exalted, not degraded ! 
 
 4 The noblenefs of your choice did, indeed^ 
 4 exalt you in my eftimation ; highly as I be- 
 4 fore thought of your merits.’ 
 
 But 
 
2i2 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 
 But it would be as vain for me to attempt to 
 repeat one half of the kind, the tender things he 
 faid, as to endeavour to recite half his virtues. 
 
 He told me, that though our rule difpenfed 
 with the natural parents content, to marry a 
 maiden in my prefent fituation ; yet, as with 
 fubrnifiion to cur laws, he thought nothing ought 
 to deprive the parent of his po wer over his child ; 
 he had previously confulted my father and mo- 
 ther, and gained their approbation, before he 
 addreficd the head of the clafs, for leave to marry 
 me. 
 
 I 
 
 He alfo informed me, that he feared he fhould 1 
 not be able to fee me the two following days, as 
 they muft be given up to bis friend, in order to 
 fit him out as well as pofii! ie, for fo defperate a 
 journey, as made him fhudder for him, as well 
 as for himfelf ; fince, upon Ware’s fuccefs de- 
 pended his future hope of returning to Eng- 
 land. 
 
 At_ 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 213 
 
 At the expiration of that time, he came to roe, 
 told me his friend was gone, and all things get- 
 ting ready for our nuptials. 
 
 The neceffary preparations completed, my lo- 
 ver, and the head of the clafs, fummoned me to 
 church. 
 
 The gclden chain encircled us amidft our fur- 
 rounding friends; amongft which, ray parents 
 were not the lead joyful. 
 
 The ceremony over — I was led, — oh ! joyful 
 moments ! to my hufband’s houfe ! and received 
 the congratulations of every perfon, with a heart 
 Fully at eafe. 
 
 Here I lived the happied of women ; for to 
 complete my felicity, Hubert had withdrawn his 
 affections from me, and placed them, where 
 they were mod acceptable, and mod deferved. 
 
 On 
 
1 
 
 214 THE history of 
 
 On the friend of my heart, my dear Mura ; 
 who had long fecretiy loved him, concealing her 
 attachment even from me, till I had made my \ 
 choice, and by quitting my father’s houfe, plain- 
 ly evinced, I never would be the wife of HuS- ! 
 bert ! 
 
 The week after the birth of my little Charles, 
 the mod honorable, the good Emargon, died — 
 full of years and honors. 
 
 The voices that were to eleQ: his fucceffor, 
 were unanimous to place my Woodville in 
 vacant feat. 
 
 He received the account with gratitude ; but 
 declined the intended honor; proving to the an- { 
 cients and the fires, the impropriety of giving the 
 mod honorable place to a dranger ; to one too, 
 who mud confefs, he would, when ever op- 
 portunity offered, return to his native land. 
 
 Though J 
 
 O 
 
CHARLES MANDSVILLE. 
 
 215 
 
 Though whiift he fta ed, and to his life’s end, 
 he would make it his ftudy to deferve the many 
 favors they had fhewn him, 
 
 c 
 
 \ 
 
 His all perfuafive eloquence prevailed, greatly 
 as they wifhed otherwife. 
 
 They then proceeded to a new ele&ion ; and 
 with one confenting voice, chofe my father ; hot 
 only, they fa id, on account of his own merit, 
 but as he had been the ultimate caufe of the bene- 
 fits they had received from Woodville, by the 
 prefervation of him ; and as he was now fo 
 clofely connedled with him, their beloved bene- 
 fadtor. 
 
 Shouts of joy proclaimed their choice ; and 
 with the cuflomary forms, my father was invef- 
 i ted with the mod honorable’s authority. 
 
 ii Our happinefs hourly increafed ; a fecond boy 
 
 jirvas added to our bleflings, but alas ! human 
 
 joys are not permanent ! 
 
 A ficknefs. 
 
21 6 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 A ficknefs, ofien fatal to infants, fnatched 
 away both our babes, in th ee months time, and 
 I Ihould have nearly funk under my grief, but 
 for the neceflity I was under, to roufe myfelf, in 
 order to keep up my dear hufband’s fpirits ; who 
 grew penfive and almoft melancholy ; often tel- 
 ling me, ‘ he looked upon himfelf, as the pri- 
 ‘ mary caufe of our misforeune. 
 
 c Believing, that Divine goodnefs had be- 
 
 * reaved him of his children, in order to imprefs 
 e him more ftrongly with a fenfe of his own 
 ‘ crime, in forfaking a father, who might, per- 
 
 ‘ haps, now want his filial tendernefs, to booth i 
 
 * his cares, in a country, in which, it is true, 
 c there was more improved knowledge, than in 
 £ our’s ; yet, as he mud own, there was much 
 ‘ more vice ; fo be proved, there were aifo many 
 ‘ more afiliclions.’ 
 
 My utmoiT endeavours were ufed to banifli 
 fuch cruel thoughts, and revive his lpirits : that 
 amiable temper, which delighted tc make others 
 
 happy, 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 217 
 
 happy, made him exert his own efforts, that my 
 affiduity might be fuccefsful ; and, at length, I 
 had the happinefs of feeing his natural vivacity 
 return. 
 
 I 
 
 ' 
 
 One morning my father fent for him ; in the 
 evening when he returned, I obferved a cheerful- 
 nefs in his looks, that told me fome event joyous 
 to him had happened ; and I foon caught the 
 livelinefs, his eyes expreffed ; as my heart was 
 ever in unifon with his. 
 
 He tenderly embraced me, faying, * Oh ! my 
 ‘ Agnes, you fliould love me lefs i or the tor- 
 ' ‘ rent of felicity that daily pours upon me, will 
 1 overwhelm me, and make me forget that I am 
 1 mortal ! 
 
 I 
 
 * But I fear, I (hall check the fymnathizing 
 j ‘ jov that has lighted up your features, with 
 ‘ dill more than ufual brightnefs, when I tell 
 j ‘ you, the fource of my prefent fatisfadlion arifes 
 L * from 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 2 i 8 
 
 ‘ from the profpedt of returning horn* to my na- 
 
 * five land ! 
 
 ‘ Letters are arrived from Ware, informing , 
 e the mod honorable, which he fuppofes to be 
 c Emargon ftill, that he has been happy enough '■ 
 6 to reap the good effedts of civilizing barbari- 
 6 ans, and converting enemies into friends. 
 
 { Our letters of recommendation, conduced \ 
 e him fafely to the nation neareft Youngland. 
 
 « Their chief recommended him to the next ; 
 
 * and fo he was patted on for eight hundred miles, 
 
 « meeting with every kindnefs which humanity 
 c could fhew, or his Gtuation require. 
 
 * At the end of this journey he met with a 
 veffel, which carried him fafe to an Englith 
 ( fettlement ; from whence he could, with eafe, 
 
 4 proceed to England, with every reafonable af- 
 f furanceof a profperous voyage. 
 
 4 He 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 219 
 
 4 He adds, at the end of which, he fhould en- 
 deavour to turn to the bed advantage for 
 4 me, the treafures he had been truded with. 
 
 4 I did not underdand the meaning of this 
 ‘ fentence ; well knowing, that all he had re- 
 
 * ceived from me, were fome preients to himfelf, 
 
 * which I had added to the fplendid ones which 
 4 had been given to him by the mod honorable, 
 4 and honorables : but that my obligations to 
 4 this generous nation may be hourly increafing, 
 4 I foon learned, that Emargon, your father, and 
 4 many others, had found means,' by fending a 
 4 veflel round the coad, to meet Ware, at the 
 4 fh ip fide ; and that this veflel had been dored 
 4 with ingots of pure gold, diamonds, and mod 
 4 precious gems ; with orders to difpofe of them 
 4 in the manner mod likely to turn out for my 
 4 benefit, in' cafe I ever reached home ; allowing 
 4 him to referve the fourth part to himfelf ; and 
 4 defiring him, if my father was living, to give 
 
 4 the remainder to him, for my ufe, if lever re- 
 4 turned home. 
 
 L 2 - 
 
 4 Thus, 
 
220 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ Thus, you fee, my dearefl: treafure, the : 
 ‘ bounty of our friends will make us rich in my 
 4 native country. 
 
 . „ 
 
 4 But now, my dear Agnes, comes the trial . 
 ‘ of your love, and of your courage ! 
 
 4 In ten months Ware hopes I fhall find a 
 4 fh ip, at a particular river he has named ; which : 
 
 4 will be fent on purpofe to convey me from | 
 
 4 hence — may I flatter myfelf, you can checr- 
 4 fully accompany me ?’ 
 
 « May you ! how can you wound me by uu- 
 4 plying a doubt ? are we not linked for l;te ? 
 
 ‘ fn ill I not partake of whatever heaven allots to j 
 £ you ? — let me full be dear to you, and do not j 
 1 forfake me, or deprive me of that afFedlion i 
 < which makes my life a bleliing ; and then, be j 
 4 allured, I fr.ail fipd nothing a hardfhip in your 
 4 loved fcciety.’ 
 
 He prcffed me to his heart in tranfport, fay- 
 
 ino*. 
 
 4 Thou 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 221 
 
 ‘ Thou art the only treafure I (hall wifft to 
 ‘ carry away ; all others are but as a feather, 
 ji 4 compared with thee !’ 
 
 As foon as I had recovered the birth of ths t 
 fweet babe, who has been the companion of our 
 journey, we began to prepare for our depar- 
 ■ ture 
 
 Soon after the time our friend had fixed, 
 we received intelligence, that the fh ip was ar- 
 rived. 
 
 Woodville called all his dependants— told them 
 
 the time he intended to remove, and offered them 
 
 ** 
 
 any fervice in his power with the honorable', a s 
 a reward for their fidelity. 
 
 J 
 
 Two young women, two men, and two boys, 
 requeffed to accompany us $ and live or die with 
 
 us. 
 
 Woodville told them, they muff firff obtain 
 
 their 
 
222 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 their parents, and the mod honorable’s con- 
 fent. 
 
 This was Readily granted the whole nation 
 would have been trufted to his care, could they 
 have been removed. 
 
 The laft day we went to our church, we found, 
 on the outfide of the repofitory, affigned to 
 Woodville’s trophies, the following infcrip- 
 lion. 
 
 ‘ To-morrow, being the third of the fourti 
 ‘ month, in the fix hundred and fourth fpringof 
 ‘ this fettiement, we are to be deprived of Wood- 
 4 ville, the cldeft young man we ever f3w ; and 
 ‘ the greatefi benefaftor to our nation, as well as 
 ‘ the very be ft man it has ever known. 
 
 ‘ He was truth itfelf! a falfliood never ifTued 
 ‘ from his lips; nor was a deceit ever pra&ifed 
 f by him. 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 223 
 
 He was wife without vanity ; brave without 
 
 * rafhnefs j corapaffionate without weaknefs ; had 
 1 1 dignity without pride ; and his delight has 
 
 { been to do good to all, though his modefty 
 : * would not let him take all the honorable rewards 
 i ‘ that he fo well deferved. 
 
 * His manners adorn virtue in himfelf ; and 
 | 1 his example teaches it toothers. 
 
 fir' ’■ 
 
 * Filial tendernefs, that moli valuable of all 
 ‘ the affe£iions of the human mind, has (hewn 
 
 j * itfelf predominant in him it has prevailed 
 
 * over interetl, ambition, and all that could 
 I ‘ charm, or entice a mortal 5 and it has obliged 
 
 * him to return home, to receive a father’s blef- 
 ‘ fing ! but, alas ! it robs Ycungland of their 
 
 * god-like benefa&or. 
 
 * When far diftant, he will ft III remain in 
 
 * their hearts — his praifes will flow from their 
 
 * lips ; and their prayers (hall be offered to Hea- 
 
 for his iafety. 
 
 ‘ This 
 
 I 
 
 
224 - 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ This writing ! — an art he himfelf taught firftl 
 * — fhall tranfmit to future generations, an ac- 
 1 count of the bleflings he procured to Young- '• 
 ‘ land.’ 
 
 Then followed the lift of all the benefits he had 
 conferred on the country. 
 
 My mode ft Woodville will not let me enume- 
 rate thefe benefits ; they are more than can be 
 conceived. 
 
 After Woodville had, with tears in his eyes, 
 pcrufed this writing, he turned to his furround- 
 ing friends — thanked them for all their generous 
 goodnefs to him ; allured them, their welfare, 
 and the profperity of their nation, Ihould ever be 
 an oojccl to him, however diftant he might be ; 
 and, as a proof of it, if he ever obtained any in- 
 fluence in his own country, he would exert it, 
 to fend them fuch a holy man, as their painting 
 delineated (with feveral copies of that facred bor’ 
 
CHARLES MANDEV 1 LLE. 
 
 225 
 
 called the bible) to inftru£t them in the rites of 
 Chriftianity. 
 
 I They already pradtifed the dictates of the 
 Chriftian Religion ; and till that clergyman ar- 
 rived amongft them, the beft advice he could 
 ! give them, was to adhere ftridly to their own 
 rules, as thofe rules taught every virtue which 
 could adorn human nature ! 
 
 After more difcourfe, and the ufual repetition 
 i of the Lord’s prayer, creed, and ten command- 
 j ments, the people fung a hymn, made for the 
 occafion, expreffive of their earnefi: wifhes for 
 his happinefs and fafety. 
 
 He had been apprifed of this intention, and 
 Ind been prepared to return it ; having compofed 
 a hymn, in which rnyfelf, and twelve more he 
 had fele&ed, were to join him. 
 
 This hymn, which repeated his gratitude, and 
 prayed for bleffings on this nation, was thought 
 L 3 the 
 
226 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 the Hneft piece of mufic which had eves^been 
 heard there ; where he himfelf (who has the moft 
 harmonious voice that ever fung) thought the 
 mufic was fuperior to any he had ever heard in 
 England. 
 
 Happy fhal! I be, if ever it i . allowed me, to 
 fing this hymn to his father ! 
 
 My parents were not able to fee us the lad; 
 day ; but fhut themfelves up, and prayed for 
 bleflings on their children. 
 
 However, they fhewed ^ much fortitude, as 
 not to utter a wifh to detain us. 
 
 I requeued the friend of my heart— my dear 
 Mura, to follow their example, and avoid the 
 agonizing farewell l for I dreaded every thing 
 that could enervate me, and of courfe render me 
 let's able to encounter the painful moment of my 
 departure ! 
 
 Indeed, 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 227 
 
 Int^ed, I found occafion for my utmofl: refo- 
 lution to fupport my own fpirits, that I might not 
 deprefs my beloved’s ; whofe tender heart felt for 
 me, as well as for his own leaving, for ever, a 
 country he had fo many reafons to love ! 
 
 Hubert, and many other friends, accompani- 
 ed us to the water fide. 
 
 Every thing had been planned with fo much 
 care, and every plan was fo well executed, that 
 our land journey was performed in eight days, 
 with very little fatigue, and without diftrefs or 
 danger. * 
 
 Our fh ip was then loaded with immenfe trea- 
 fures, as this country calls them. 
 
 The kind^j>licitude of my hufband (lover I may 
 fiill call him, for fuch he has continued, ever 
 fince I liave been his happy wife) fo alleviated 
 every anxiety, and increafed every comfort, that 
 the voyage proved only a pleafant expedition ; 
 
 and 
 
228 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 and the care of my fweet child, and writing thefe 
 memoirs, fo filled up my time, that I had no wiffi 
 for fociety in thofe hours my Woodville could not 
 devote to me ! 
 
 We were met, at the firft Englifh fettlement 
 by Mr. John Ware, (a brother of our friend’s, 
 ■who lives abroad ; he had taken charge of dffpo- 
 fing of part of the gold and jewels Mr. Chrif- 
 topher Ware had brought from my dear father, 
 and the honorables, for our ufe •, as it was thought 
 mod prudent to convert them into the fpecies of 
 this country, in different places.) 
 
 This gentleman ffaid with us there for one 
 month, and then accompanied us to Amffer- 
 dam ; where we were to meet his brother, and 
 fettle our affairs. 
 
 We learned, by Mr. John Ware’s account, 
 that what had been already brought from Young- 
 land, produced an immenfe property in England : 
 a circumftance I heard with pleafure (though not 
 
 grown 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 229 
 
 grown more avaricious) as I had already feen 
 enough to make me think, that in the mother 
 country (as my beloved always calls it) wealch 
 was in as great eftimation as virtue ! or, at leaf!:, 
 that virtue without riches, would be but little 
 efteemed 1 
 
 I could not help faying to myfelf — I knew a 
 more happy country, where merit alone was va- 
 lued ; and where an additional feather, acquired 
 by noble actions, would render the wearer more 
 honoured, than all the gems and gold in the 
 world ; as thole might be gained by a thoufand 
 accidents, in which the merit of the owner was 
 not concerned ; but the honorable feather muii 
 be obtained by real defert. 
 
 A figh, and a tender tear, accompanied this 
 mental refletiion ; but the feeing Woodvilie ap- 
 proach, made me fupprefs every painful idea. 
 
 His loved prefence can, at any time, diffi- 
 pate concern that I would carefully hide from 
 
 him i 
 
230 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 him ; left he fhould fuppofe I repented the hav- 
 ing left my country, and my friends! — -a 
 fuppofition his tendernefs would be alarmed at, 
 but I can moft truly fay, it would be groundlefs : 
 — -—in him, and my beloved child, are center- 
 ed ail my ideas of happinefs. 
 
 Next week, it was intended, we fhould pro- 
 ceed on our journey to England— but, alas, I 
 find my journies in this world are over ! 
 
 I am feized with an illneis, they call the 
 fmall pox, and am convinced it will prove fa- 
 tal ! 
 
 I refign my life with gratitude, for the many 
 bleftings I have enjoyed, into the hands of him 
 who gave it ! 
 
 My confcience tells me, I have lived innocent- 
 ly, and I hope to die happy. 
 
 *■ I am 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 231 
 
 I am fatisfied in the belief, my dear infant will 
 be taken true care of, by the tendereft of fa- 
 thers— —he will love her for ray fake ! 
 
 I wilhed to have feen his father, but the Al- 
 mighty’s will be done ! 
 
 May the Power above proteft, and fhield from 
 every ill, the moft worthy of mankind ! 
 
 May he meet with every bleffing in his own 
 country, that can atone for thofe he has left 5 
 and leflfen that forrow I am certain he will feel on 
 my account ! 
 
 I hope to live long enough to deliver thefe pa- 
 pers into the hands of Mr. Chriftopher Ware, 
 who is hourly expe&ed from London ; as I well 
 know the modefty of my amiable hufband, would 
 fupprefs an account which does fo much credit to 
 himfelf. 
 
 I wife 
 
I wifh his neareft friends fliould fee it j and I 
 requeft of them to believe, I honor truth too 
 much, to infert one faility 1 
 
 Conclusion of Mrs. Mandeville’s Me- 
 
 moirs. 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 233 
 
 To Mr. Herbert. 
 
 T HE immenfc packets that have been tranf- 
 mitted to you, by Colonel Belville’s pen, have 
 permitted mine to fleep in peace. 
 
 Indeed I think you would have been vexed, 
 with any interruption, in the perufal of fuch in- 
 terefUng papers. 
 
 I almofi wifh I had never read them, for I can- 
 not help lamenting, that the amiable writer of 
 them, was not herfelf the bearer to us ! — and, 
 highly as I efteem Emily, I think fhe will have a 
 of a maCwho advanta S e ’ as the wife 
 
 nes. ~ ’ ~’“-h an Ag- 
 
 Her 
 
THE HISTORY OF 
 
 234 
 
 Her character Teems to me, to be as perfefl in 
 its way, as his ; and we all fhed tears, when 
 we perufed her affecting elofe of her memoirs. 
 
 Emily wept, very fincerely, I dare fay; yet I 
 could not help thinking, flie would have (hed 
 more painful tears, had the Tweet Agnes ftiil been 
 living. 
 
 My time has been, as ufual, employed in 
 trying to cheer the linking fpirits of my friends. 
 
 The thoughts of the approaching trials, opened 
 every wound afreth ! It has called Lord Bel- 
 mont, and Colonel Mandeviile away. 
 
 They departed with heavy hearts leaving us to 
 the care of Mr. Mandeviile ; who has endea- 
 voured, by every tender auiJuity, to bamfh 
 mournful reflexions irgr^nore comfort from his 
 c" H .,pany, than I thought Ike would ever know 
 
 again. 
 
 Her 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 235 
 
 Her fondnefs for him daily mcreafes j nor can 
 one be furprized at it, as each day he difcovers 
 fome new art of plead ng. 
 
 Sure no one man was ever endued with To ma- 
 ny powers to delight every age and fex ! I am 
 fometimes out of humour, that I cannot difcover 
 one fault, to bring him more upon the level with 
 ourfelves ; his voice is melody itfelf. 
 
 Well might poor Agnes fay, it exceeded all 
 {he had ever heard ; I was told in Italy, I had 
 been entertained by the fined voices in the world ; 
 but I am convinced they were miftaken ; they 
 had never heard Mr. Mandevilie’s ! — his folemn 
 hymns, make you believe you are lidening to 
 more than mortal founds, his cheerful fongs ani- 
 mate your whole foul, and leave you not a 
 thought or idea that is not joyous ! 
 
 I learn this day, from the happy Emily, that 
 he has gained her permiffion, when hisfather 
 and my lord return, to aik their confent to her 
 becoming his bride. 
 
 I think 
 
236 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 I think it will be joyfully given, and then our 
 dory will be properly wound up ; the gay widow 
 will foon be converted into the fober wife ; the 
 blufhing maiden, into the prudent matron ; and 
 as my vein for letter writing is worn -out, I can 
 the eafier condefcend to the dull narration of do- 
 medic fcenes ; which, though they may be very 
 delightful in the a&ing, make but an infipid fi- 
 gure in the recital, 
 
 I truft we fhall have no more mad rencounters, 
 to create tragic fubje&s for my pen : but be con- 
 tent to admire the mercy of Providence, who 
 has thus healed the forrows of a worthy family, 
 by restoring its loft branches ! adorned with every 
 fruit that can make it valuable ! 
 
 The great bell announces vifitors, fo for the 
 prefent. Adieu ! 
 
 (in continuation.) 
 
 T.aft Thurfday Lord Belmont, and the Colonel 
 
 returned : 
 
CHARLES MANDE VILLE. 237 
 
 returned : their countenances betrayed the de- 
 je&ion of their hearts. 
 
 Lord Melvin was acquitted, as every body 
 knew he muft be ; my Lord dwelled no longer 
 on the painful fubjedt, than to do juftice to the 
 manly tendernefs, and deep concern, Lord 
 Melvin exprefled on the fad occafion. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville led the difcourfe into topics* 
 lefs painfully interefting to the company. 
 
 After tea, he requeued his father to walk with 
 him : Emily’s bluthes were tell tales, that the 
 knew the fubjedf he meaned to difcufs. 
 
 Colonel Mandeville has enabled me to give 
 you the particulars of their converfation. 
 
 The Colonel, on hearing his fon’s withes, 
 faid, ‘ I am not furprized ; as I thought, I pret- 
 ‘ ty early difcovered your partiality for Mifs How- 
 
 * ard : 
 
2 3 S THE history of 
 
 e ard : which gave me great pleafure, as I know 
 4 her to be a truly amiable girl.’ 
 
 4 Oh ! fir, you might indeed fee it, on the 
 4 firfl of my acquaintance with her; nay, on my 
 4 firfl: fight of her, had you been prefent ; for 
 4 never were two fillers more like each other, 
 4 than Mifs Howard is, to my dear Angel ! 
 
 4 This firong refemblance led me to obferve 
 4 her chara&er and difpofition ; the more I flu- 
 4 died them, the likenefs flrengthened ; the fame 
 4 modeft diffidence, the fame fweet feminine/ 
 4 foftnefs, that my beloved Agnes poflefled, np- 
 4 pear in all Mifs Howard fays or does ; they feem 
 4 to be reuniting to the woman I adored; — 
 
 4 and in her, I hope to fiad a fecond fond mo- 
 4 ther for my dear girl ! 
 
 4 I hope, fir, you have formed no views for 
 4 me, that this attachment interferes with.’ 
 
 4 From me, child, you (hall never meet with 
 
 4 any 
 
CHARLES MANDEV1LLE. 
 
 239 
 
 ‘ any obftru&ion to your wifhes ; — I hope it will 
 
 * alfo receive my Lori’s approbation — but of this 
 4 I am not fo certain.’ 
 
 * Why, hr, I am not confcious of any ground 
 4 for objection to my propolal.’ 
 
 4 Lord Belmont, my dear Charles, is a man 
 
 • of nice honor — perhaps, too pundtilious in 
 4 fome matters; and, though I really think that 
 4 every adtion of your life, does credit to you ; 
 4 he, perhaps, may fee in a different light, your 
 4 early elopement, and the ftate of dependence 
 4 you were once in.’ 
 
 4 I have not fullied my honor, and, therefore, 
 4 do not expedl contempt from any man ; efpe- 
 4 daily from a man of my Lord’s good fenfe. 
 
 4 If I find it, I can only fay, I had rather be 
 4 again the menial dependent I once was, than 
 4 be his lordlhip ; for till I can be convinced a 
 4 coronet adds worth to the heart of its wearer, 
 
 4 I can 
 
240 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * I can only confider it as the ornament of the 
 £ head.’ 
 
 c I hope, my dear Charles, you judge more 
 *. truly of him, in this matter, than I do — I 
 ‘ thought it proper to guard you againft a dif- 
 ‘ appointment that might lead you into improper 
 ‘ warmth ; all men have fome (hade in their cha- 
 
 * radters ; this is the only one in his ; and it 
 
 * cannot overcaft the bright- funfhine of virtues 
 
 * that illuminate his mind. 
 
 ‘ As to myfclf, I am much pleafeu with your 
 f choice; but had I not been fo, I would not 
 
 * have thwarted your inclinations ; let me once 
 ‘ be bleffed with a boy of your’s, and I (hall for- 
 « get my pail fufferings; they have been fo great 
 « fince my poor Harry’s untimely end, that I 
 ‘ think I could not long have fupported my felt 
 ‘ under them, had not the unexpected bit lung I 
 ( now enjoy, cheered my fad heart !’ 
 
 Mr. Mandeville, willing to give his thoughts 
 
 another 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 241 
 
 another fubje6t, took a paper out of his pocket 
 book ; prefenting it to his father, faying, 4 you 
 
 * told me, fir, I need not fear having more riches 
 4 than I could fpend, in this country ; be fo kind 
 4 to perufe this fchedule of my fortune, and you 
 4 will find it too much for any man 1’ 
 
 4 The Colonel read, 4 received, from Mr. Ware 
 4 feventy thoufand pounds, the firfl: payment ; 
 
 * the fecond, thirty thoufand ; the third, for 
 4 jewels and ingots of gold, brought by himfelf, 
 4 and difpofed of by Mr. C'nriftopher Ware, fifty 
 4 thoufand ; the produce of the newly arrived 
 ‘ fhips, two hundred thoufand pounds ; feventy 
 4 thoufand laid out in land, by Mr. John Ware, 
 4 before Mr. Mandevil le arrived.’ 
 
 The Colonel then turned the paper, and 
 continued reading a plan Mr. Mandeville had laid 
 down, for the difpofa! of his fortune. 
 
 His fon repeated, 4 I think fir, you will ac- 
 M 4 knowledge 
 
 O 
 
242 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 s notvledge this is too much wealth for any man 
 ‘ to poffefs.’ 
 
 e ror any ni2n but you, I fttould think it was ; 
 
 1 but this fcheme for your future conduct, {hews 
 
 * me you will confer credit on your riches ; in- 
 
 * ft cad of deriving it from them! 
 
 ‘ May God blefs you, with comforts in pro- 
 ‘ portion to your benevolent intentions.’ 
 
 * You will perceive, fir, that my plan extends 
 ‘ to but one half of my pofleflions ; the other \ 
 
 * half, I confider as your property, not mine; 
 
 4 and devote it entirely to your difpofal. 
 
 ‘ If you find it more than your inclination al- 
 ‘ lows you to fpend upon your own occafions, 
 
 * your better judgment, and greater knowledge 
 4 cf this country, will enable you to find out 
 
 * worthy fubjedls to beftow it on ; to raife de- 
 ‘ prefled and fuffering virtue, will make it turn 
 '■ :o : fo'id advantage. 
 
 Of 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 243 
 
 1 Of the fhare I have referved to myfeif, I 
 c fhould be forry not to dedicate a large portion 
 
 * to thefe purpofes. 
 
 * I fhali ftill have enough left, to gratify all 
 ‘ my defires : — the pomp and ftiew of wealth, 
 ‘ cannot, in my opinion, increafe the happinefs 
 
 * of its owner.’ 
 
 With eyes and heart overflowing with grateful 
 joy, the Colonel embraced his excellent fon : ex- 
 claiming, 
 
 * Oh 1 it is too, too much, my child, for an 
 
 * old man to fupport fuch a tide of joy, as you 
 
 * pour in upon me !’ 
 
 After fome more diicourfe, they feparated, — 
 each of them delighted! the fon, that he-had 
 been happy enough to revive his drooping fa- 
 ther, — the father, that he was blefied with fuch a 
 fon. 
 
 M a 
 
 When 
 
244 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Vv hen they returned to the company, their 
 countenances were animated by thefe pleating 
 fenfations. 
 
 This morning a meflenger has arrived from 
 Lady Mary, juft as Mr. Mandeville had en- 
 quired of me, if Lord Belmont was gone to his 
 library, as he wiftied to find him alone ; and a 
 fervant had informed Mr. Mandeville, Lord 
 Belmont requefted to fpeak with him. 
 
 I confefs myfelf apprehenfive, there may be 
 fome fcheme in agitation between my Lord and 
 his lifter, that may interfere with the Honora- 
 ble’s willies. 
 
 When among!! ourfelves, we frequently call 
 him by his foreign appellation ; but he prefers, 
 he fays, the name ever dear to him ; though fo 
 long laid alide ; but now reafiumed, with fincere 
 and grateful joy. 
 
 Lady Belmont has juft left me ; and given 
 me leave to tranfmit to you the particulars of 
 
 the S 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 245 
 
 the library converfation, which {he had learned 
 from his Lordfhip. 
 
 I am fo tired of * he laid,’ and Mr. Man- 
 * deville replied,’ that though I am not going 
 to write a farce, yet I will put it into dramatis 
 perfonae. 
 
 Lord Belmont. 1 wanted, Mr. Mandeville, 
 
 to inform you of my wifhes,. that you would ac- 
 company me, to wait upon my fitter Lady 
 Mary. 
 
 I am anxious to introduce you to her ; but a 
 letter this morning, tells me, (he propofes com* 
 ing hither to-morrow, to congratulate us all on 
 your return : — a return, fo happy for each, but 
 mott peculiarly fo to me ; who am now no long- 
 er at a lofs for an heir to my fortune and my 
 honors; they will devolve on you, and I rejoice 
 they will be poffetted by a man every way worthy 
 of them ! 
 
 Mr 
 
246 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 Mr. Mandeville. — Forgive me, my Lord, if 
 I am incapable of expreffing my fentiments of 
 gratitude, as I ought to do ; I feel, at this mo- 
 ment, the misfortune of my education ; but my 
 a&ions, I hope, will do more credit to my feel- 
 ings than my language can. 
 
 v 
 
 The chief merit that I boad, is a dncerity 
 •which, whether nature gave me or not, mud 
 have been acquired, in a country, where it is 
 confidered as the firft of virtues 1 your Lord- 
 fh ip’s kindnefs makes me hone, I {hall be forgiv- 
 en a requed, I intended to make to you to day ; 
 a requed which that fame fincerity makes it im- 
 proper, in my opinion, to conceal any longer. 
 
 Lord Belmont. — Speak it freely; I think I 
 can fafely promife ; you can afk nothing of me, 
 I fliall be unwilling to comply with. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville. Thus emboldened by 
 
 your goodnefs, may I hope for your permiilion, 
 to addrefs Mifs Howard ? — I freely acknowledge 
 
 to 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 m 
 
 to your Lordfiiip, without an union with her, 
 neither wealth or titles can make me happy. 
 
 Lord Belmont. — Honeftly .(poke my dear 
 Charles, oh ! had your poor brother been equally 
 open, in divulging his wilhes, we might all have 
 been happy! but God’s will be done! I was 
 myfelf to blame !- — However, it is vain to reflei 3; 
 on what is part: ! we muft endeavour, by fubmif- 
 fion to the decrees of Providence, to atone for 
 our errors : remembering, that if we were never 
 to meet with adverhty, we Ihould be too apt to 
 forget our abode in- this world, is only defigned 
 as preparatory to a better. 
 
 My Lord then propofed acquainting Lady Bel- 
 mont with the fubjedt they were- upon adding, 
 I fancy you want no advocate in Emily’s heart ; 
 but if you Ihould, I am miftaken if her Lady- 
 fhip does not prove a willing one. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville faid, you will be fo kind, as 
 
 to 
 
248 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 to let my father know, your wifhes about fcttle- 
 /inent. 
 
 Lord Belmont. 1 will talk them over with 
 
 you ; for on this occafion I mufl reprefent your 
 father ; he cannot fpare a great deal, and fnall 
 not lefTcn his income ; mine is Sufficient to al- 
 low me to divide part with you. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville. — Your Lordfliip gready mif- 
 takes my meaning ; furely you cannot think I 
 want to rob my father of any part of his fortune ! 
 
 in any cafe I fnould blufh to think of it. 
 
 In the prefent, any addition to mine, would be 
 absolutely unneceffary ; you do not perhaps guefs 
 my fortune to be fo large as it is. 
 
 Lord Belmont. 1 never heard what it was, 
 
 but I fuppofe you to have thirty or forty Thou- 
 fand Pounds; as I heard there was a large pro- 
 perty lately arrived for your ufe. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville. -I have not the particulars 
 
 of 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE'. 
 
 249 
 
 of my fortune about me ; I gave them laft night 
 to my father ; when your Lordfhip perufes them, 
 you will fee that fum is but a fmall part of the 
 wealth Heaven has bellowed upon me. — I want 
 no addition to it ; I would have an ample provi- 
 fion made for my dear child ; and the reft, pro- 
 perly fettled on Mifs Howard and her children. 
 
 Lord Behnont. — — Emily muft not be unporti- 
 oned; it would be ungenerous in me to permit 
 it; however, I will tali: this matter over .with the 
 Colonel. 
 
 They went together to Lady Belmont’s dref- 
 fing room. 
 
 She confeiTed to me, delighted' as (he was by 
 their intelligence ; ihe felt the tears ready to flow, 
 on the recollection of that union which had been 
 once fo near ; and was fo fatally prevented ! but 
 like poor Aurelia : 
 
250 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 She * facrificed to Heaven’s high wiU, 
 
 ‘ Each Toothing weaknefs of a parent’s breaft ; 
 
 ‘ The figh foft memory prompts: the tender tear, 
 
 ‘ That ftreaming o’er an dbjedt lov’d and loft, 
 
 ‘ With mournful magic, tortures and delights.’ 
 
 and with a fweet gracioufnefs, which gilds every 
 act of her’s, {he defired to be herfelf the meffen- 
 ger to Emily, of tidings {he believed would give 
 her pleafure. 
 
 The gentlemen walked out to meet Colonel 
 MandeviJIe, whom they faw in the park. 
 
 The Colonel received my Lord’s 2 cquiefcence 
 to his Ton’s defire, with unfeigned joy.. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville left them to fettle preliminaries, 
 and flew to affure his beloved, his future life 
 fhould be devoted to her happinefs. 
 
 I foon after joined the happy pair ; whom 1 
 
 found 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 251 
 
 found indulging their dear little girl ; whom Mr. 
 Adandeville was teaching to call Mifs Howard 
 her mama. 
 
 I could not help remarking he (ighed, when 
 he pronouned the tender appellation ; and I hope 
 Emily is too juft, to repine at this proof, that 
 even his attachment to her, cannot wholly oblite- 
 rate the remembrance of his dear Agnes. 
 
 We all met at dinner, with countenances 
 enlightened by joy ; even poor Lady Belmont 
 was enlivened, by the unufual cheerfulnefs that 
 exhilarated Mr. Mandeville’s fpirits, to an un- 
 common flow of vivacity. 
 
 His converfation is always entertaining 
 but then, it was entertainment, unalloyed by one 
 painful idea. 
 
 He and Emily walked out with the lovely little 
 child, when (he had partaken of the defert , and 
 we all joined in praiftng him, in whofe chara&er 
 
 the 
 
252 the history of 
 
 the fon, the parent, friend and lover, appear in 
 their mod amiable light. 
 
 To-morrow we are to be all formality ; Lady 
 Mary is a good woman ; but her breeding is 
 that of Queen Ann’s Court ; and little fuits the 
 fans ceremonious manners of. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your obedient humble fervant, 
 
 Anne Wilmott. 
 
 To 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 253 
 
 To Mr. Herbert. 
 
 I FORETOLD that Lady Mary’s civility would 
 embarrafs us ; but I could not forefee her Lady- 
 fhip would have been fo very abfurd as ihe has, 
 begging her pardon, {hewn herfelf ; but, thank 
 kind fortune, {he is gone — {he flayed but two 
 days. 
 
 She was difgufted to fee the family, what {lie 
 called, infenfible of their late lols — fhe took every 
 poflible opportunity of reminding them of it. 
 
 She behaved with a formal diftant civility to 
 Mr. Mandeville, but feemed to confider him as 
 an ufurper of her darling Harry’s place ; and, 
 once, pretty plainly hinted, fhe thought there 
 was not fufficient proof of his identity. 
 
 He 
 
254 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 He had, however, the good fenfe not to feem 
 to fee her Ladyfhip’s coldnefs to him ; and, 
 by his addrefs and infinuating fweetnefs, without 
 defcenuing to fervfiky, he fo far won her Lady- 
 fhip’s good opinion, that fhe vouchfafed to fav, 
 fhe began to believe he really was Colonel Man- 
 devitle’s fon ; fot, he certainly was very like 
 the Colonel’s wife ; who, by the way. Lady 
 Belmont informs me, never was a favorite with 
 Lady Mary,, though a mod amiable woman. 
 
 To me fhe openly avowed the horror file felt at 
 feeing fuch cheerful faces in deep mourning ; 
 — it appeared to her, a flight to the memories of 
 Lady Julia,, and her admired Harry, 
 
 I allured her Ladyfhip, if fhe would attend 
 more clofely to the fenfations of her friend?, 
 and not judge by outward appearances, fhe 
 would fee that every heart fiili felt deeply for 
 their lofs ; though they thought it ungrateful to 
 Providence, not to receive with gratitude the 
 
 b! effing? 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE'. 
 
 255 
 
 bieffings which had been fo mercifully bellowed 
 upon them ! 
 
 All my rhetoric was loll upon her ; anc, with 
 real joy, I heard her declare her intention of re- 
 turning home ; however, {he conquered herfelf 
 {b far, as to wilh Emily and Mr. Mandeville 
 much happinefs ; and gave them a civil, though 
 not warm, invitation to Firr Grove. 
 
 IN CONTINUATION. 
 
 I have, this day, a letter to inform me, Lord 
 Melvin and my niece are united, and are gone 
 to London — I fhall foon follow— fettlements are 
 drawing for Mr. Mandeville and Emily. 
 
 It is determined, that the wedding fhall be 
 private — any pompous buftle would infpire us- 
 with melancholy ideas ; which, though they 
 might pleafe Lady Mary, would, in my opinion 
 be unfuitable to the occalion. 
 
 To morrow 
 
256 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To-morrow the child is to be baptifed, at my 
 Lord’s requefl: — it w r as deferred till his return 
 from the trial. 
 
 We are returned from church. 
 
 The fweet infant was led into church by her 
 father, in her ufual drefs, only her black orna- 
 ments were exchanged for white ones, of the 
 fame form. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville prefented her to Lady Bel- 
 mont, when the ceremony began. 
 
 When the clergyman took the poof^hild, flie 
 looked frightened, and turned pale. 
 
 When Lady Belmont was afieed her name, 
 her Lar’y (hip, with great fortitude, ‘pronounced, 
 ‘ Agnes — c Julia — 
 
 The laft word, to be furc, trembled on her 
 lips, and was fpoken rather lower than the firft. 
 
 When 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 257 
 
 When the dear little angel felt the water, 
 fne burft into tears, and held out her pretty 
 arms to her father, as if to lave her. 
 
 After the ceremony was performed, he took 
 her in his arms, and foon hufhed her terrors, 
 by preffing her to his bofom ; and never did I 
 fee paternal affedtion look fo lovely, as in his 
 delighted countenance ! 
 
 The fmiles of innocence, and the natural 
 roles, foon returned to the little charmer. 
 
 Mr. Ware fpent the day with us; and re- 
 joiced to hear the little Agnes was foon to be 
 bleffed with a tender mother’s care. 
 
 After dinner, when Mr. Mandeville, Emily, 
 and the new made ChrifHan were taking their 
 ufual walk, we told Mr. Ware how greatly we 
 had been entertained, and affedled, by Mrs. 
 Mandeville’s hiftory. 
 
 He 
 
258 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 He allured us, that it could give us but z 
 faint idea of her worth — her modefty would not 
 permit her to do herfelf juflice ; — he added, 
 
 * I arrived at Amllerdam, a few days before 
 4 her death. 
 
 ‘ I found my friend abforbed with grief, as 
 4 he plainly faw her fituation. 
 
 4 She requelled fome converfation with me — 
 
 6 her fenfes being quite perfect. 
 
 4 She began, by intreating I would be her 
 4 hufband’s comforter ; laid, Ihe was perfe&ly 
 4 fenfible of her fituation ; that as Ihe had been 
 4 the happiell of women — the moll beloved of 
 4 wives, I mull believe it was painful to be thus 
 4 early taken from all her foul held dear ; but, 
 
 ‘ railing her voice, file laid — 
 
 4 I mull die fome time!— that is the fitted 
 s time, that God appoints ! — he will proted my 
 
 4 child,, 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 259 
 
 * child, and reward my hufband for all his good* 
 4 nefs.’ 
 
 ‘ Take thefe papers, faid {he; deliver them 
 4 to his beft friends ; they will but faintly fpeak 
 4 his merits ; but, I truft, there will be feen 
 4 fufficient to juftify me, for leaving all that a 
 4 woman holds dear, to unite with fuch tender- 
 6 nefs, truth and goodnefs, as will be found in- 
 4 his charadter. 
 
 4 I am happy in the belief he will be a tender 
 4 father to my dear infant. 
 
 4 I h3ve _ no fears but for him ! — oh ! endea- 
 
 4 vour to mitigate his borrows f — condudf him to 
 
 5 his father, for I trutb he has one fb ill living j 
 4 and advife my beloved to fupply my place ; — 
 4 oh i may he find a heart that will love him 
 1 as fincerely as mine has done !*‘ 
 
 4 Her deje&ed hufband entering, fhe faid no 
 4 more to me, but held out her burning hand. to 
 4 hinu 
 
 ‘ He 
 
z€o 
 
 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 * He_preffed it, with fighs, to his heaving 
 e bofom ; then, with a weak voice, Ihe faid — 
 
 * Be comforted, my love! liften to your 
 ‘ friend’s advice ; we mud fubmit to the will cf 
 
 * Heaven.’ 
 
 ‘ I left them, for a few minutes, to regain 
 ‘ compofure to fulfil my duty to my friend. 
 
 1 After this, {he fpoke but feldom ; and the 
 ‘ next day {he grew delirious, and expired the 
 
 * following morning. 
 
 * I cannot — I with not to paint Mandeville’s 
 
 * deep affliction — there was a ferenity in his 
 
 * grief that fhocked me ! — forrow is more alarm- 
 
 * ing when it is filent and calm. 
 
 f He told me, he purpofed to return to 
 e Youngland. 
 
 ‘ I did not think it proper, at firft, to feem to 
 
 * oppofe his own plans ; but hinted, in fuble- 
 
 ‘ quent 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 261 
 
 ( quent conversations, that I feared it might ha- 
 ‘ zard the child's life, to take fuch a voyage, 
 
 * and fo long a journey, without a mother’s ten- 
 e der care; befides, I thought he would refleft 
 t on himfelf, in a calmer hour, for not having 
 
 * fought for his father. 
 
 * With that candour he fo thoroughly pof- 
 
 * fefles, he thanked me, for reminding him of 
 e his duty, both to his parent, and his child ; 
 
 * and, indeed, to his departed angel, who had 
 ‘ Strongly urged him to purfue his original inten- 
 ‘ tions. 
 
 * He Said, he was alhamed of his pufillanimity 
 ‘ that made him Shrink from duties fo impor- 
 c tant— called me his true friend, for teaching 
 ‘ his wayward will the right path ; but I cannot 
 4 leave this place yet, Said he, I cannot Ihew my- 
 
 * Self to my father, and my friends, in the irra- 
 ‘ tional State of mind 1 am now in— I had need 
 
 * of my molt perfe£t understanding to regain 
 ‘ my father’s affe&ion ! 
 
 ‘ I told 
 
262 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 c I told him, I had fo much bufinefs to trar.f- 
 4 a£t with my ' brother, on his account, as well 
 
 * as my own, that I fhould neceffarily be detain- 
 
 * ed fome weeks at Amfterdam; when that was 
 
 * over, I would leave it to hint, to fix the time 
 
 * of our removal. 
 
 * AH the hours I could fpare from this bufinefs, 
 
 * I devoted to confoling Mr. Mandevi'le; fome- 
 4 times I read to him, fometimes I talked to him, 
 4 of the affairs that detained me. 
 
 * When he was able to go out, — for his health 
 ‘ was for fome time greatly injured by the fhock 
 4 he had fuftained, the going to an Englifli 
 
 * church, feemed to afford the greateff confola- 
 
 4 tion. 
 
 4 As the fondling his child yielded '.is only 
 ‘ amufement, by degrees, he became able to 
 
 * read ; and then applied fo clofely to his books, 
 4 that I feared it would be prejudicial ‘o his 
 6 health and fpirits ; however, I had the plea- 
 
 4 fure 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 263 
 
 fure to fee his appetite mend ; and his peace 
 of mind in fome degree recover. 
 
 ‘ After about two months refidence at Amfter- 
 dam, we arrived in London. 
 
 c I immediately brought him to Meadow-houfe, 
 thinking country air better for his health ; 
 and knowing retirement was better fuited to 
 his fpirits, than the buftle of the metropolis. 
 
 e In the mean time, I made it my bufinefs to 
 fearch for his father ; I learned he was living^ 
 but in heavy affliction for the lofs of his fon ; 
 fit time thought I, to comfort him with another 
 fon ; but upon mature deliberation, I con- 
 fidered it better, to let my friend’s fpirits and 
 health be more firmly eftabliffled, before I in- 
 troduced him to a parent who was finking un- 
 der a recent affliction. 
 
 ‘ I therefore, the more readily complied with 
 his requeft, of getting fome worthy divine, to 
 infiruCt him in the tenets of religion ; with 
 
 ■* which 
 
2 64 - THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ which he confeffed himfelf greatly unacquaint - 
 
 * ed ; though his life had been a feries of the 
 4 practice of thofe virtues, that religion recom- 
 
 * mends. 
 
 4 The worthy Mr. Gray, at my requeft, un- 
 
 * dertook this talk; knowing him by the name 
 4 of Woodville; as my friend had previoufly 
 4 declared his refolution of never reaffirming his 
 4 family name, till reftored to his father’s fa- 
 4 vour : and though he had long before, told 
 
 * his poor wife, fhe muff: expert to be called 
 4 Mandeville, whenever (he was prefented to 
 
 * his family, yet, he had requefted her to con- 
 4 ceal his real name from every other perfon. 
 
 ‘ Tome, it was neceffary it Ihould be known, 
 e on account of the bufinefs I had undertaken to 
 ‘ tranfa6l for him. 
 
 ‘ Providence has planned the uhappy meeting 
 4 between Mr. Mandeville and his friends 1 and 
 ( left me nothing farther to do, than to rejoice 
 
 4 in 
 
CHARLES MANDEV1LLE. c6$ 
 
 ‘ in events To likely to make him as happy* as 
 ‘ he deferves to be.’ 
 
 We thanked Mr. Ware* for his additional 
 information ; and (as human nature is apt to go 
 from one extreme to the other) Lord Belmont 
 began to condemn his former ideas, of io much 
 care being neceffary, to form the perfect charac- 
 ter. — faying, 
 
 s We fee in Mr. Mandeviile, to what a height 
 
 * virtue and accomplifhments can attain ; without 
 « any other help, than a good difpofition, and 
 « a naturally found undemanding, ’ 
 
 e Pardon me, my Lord, faid Colonel Belville, 
 
 * if I do not allow the juftice of your inference.— 
 ‘ One example is not fufficient to demonfitratc 
 e fo important a point ; I mold readily grant, 
 ‘ who indeed, can be fo blind as to deny it ? 
 ‘ that Mr. Mandeviile has every virtue, and every 
 
 N 
 
 { accom- 
 
266 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ accomplilhmenf, which can adorn the bed 
 
 * educated man ! but are we from thence, to 
 ‘ conclude, all men would be polifhed and ami- 
 ‘ able, if left to themfelves. 
 
 ( Mr. Mandeville was born the hero and the 
 ‘ pjiilofopher ; and the gentlenefs of his nature 
 Vfupplied the want of pol ifh : but yet, I cannot 
 
 * give up the neceflity of a good education. 
 
 * In England, at lead, I am certain we might 
 e as well expect pine apples on a crab tree, as 
 ‘ good judgment, and proper condudt, from un- 
 
 * cultivated nature.’ 
 
 The return of MandeviJie and his Emily, 
 dopped our farther difeourfe upon the fubje&. 
 
 We converted the red of the day, wvh that 
 cheerfulnefs, which eai'e, love and fri ndfhip, 
 can alone create ! feldom enjoyed, and never 
 well deferibed, as relaters and readers have 
 
 different 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 267 
 
 different ,taftes and different feelings, which it is 
 vain to attempt to gratify; yet, fuch fociety, 
 when accompanied with a harmony of difpofition, 
 which enclines each perfon to endeavour to pleafe, 
 gives me the cleared idea I can form, of the con- 
 vention of ‘juft men made perfect andmuft, 
 I think, refemble it the mod any earthly enjoy- 
 ment can ; becaufe, it can be experienced only 
 by f the pure in heart.’ 
 
 ExpeS: no more letters from me ; Colonel 
 Belville’s lawyer informs him, that every thing 
 is ready for figning and fealing the important 
 deeds: and as the writings for the marriage of 
 Mr. Mandeville and Mifs Howard, cannot be 
 completed in lefs than a month, my gentleman 
 infifts upon my going from hence dire&ly ; fo 
 either to pleafe him, or myfelf, I fh all begin to 
 practice obedience now, that it may fit the eafier 
 upon me hereafter ; and therefore I have con- 
 fented to go to London, on Monday; and the 
 rather, as Lady Sardh Mordaunt is unhappy at 
 N 2 the 
 

 268 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 the thoughts of the marriage being celebrated 
 here.’ ^ 
 
 A little fuperftition will, fometimes, inhabit 
 the bread: of an old woman ! 
 
 She has conceived ftrange terrors from the 
 pad {hocking fcenes ; and her exceflive fondnefs 
 for the nephew (to whom die has always fupplied 
 the place of a mother) gives her a fort of righ*-, 
 to have even her whims indulged. 
 
 I confefs, I had fet my heart on Lord Bel- 
 mont’s giving my hand, to the man who has fo 
 long poffeffed my heart ; but fo he takes it from 
 fomebody, I will be content. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 I (hall not leave Belmont without regret ; but 
 after the long experience I have had of Belville’s 
 affedtion ; and the confcioufnefsjuhat he has 
 fubmitted to my will and pleature, Cith very un- 
 common patience, it would be difingenuous not 
 
 to 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE 266 
 
 to own, I have no wirti to poflpone an event, 
 from which I expe£t an increafe of happinefs 
 to, , 
 
 Your’s, &c. 
 
 Anne Wilmott, 
 
2 7 o THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To Mrs. Mandeville. 
 
 J HOPE you, and Lady Belmont, received my 
 congratulations, and thofe of my beloved, to 
 Lord Belmont, and Mr. Mandeville, two ports 
 
 ago : they were very fincere, though very 
 
 concife. 
 
 You cannot need any flowers of rhetoric, to 
 convince you, we fhared in your happinefs ; 
 but yon, who by marrying privately, and in 
 the country, have eicaped the hurry, confufion, 
 and turbulence of joy I have lived in, for this 
 lart month, will, perhaps, not fo eafily credit 
 how little ti vie the burtle of congratulations has 
 left me to write at all ; much lefs tcwritc floridly 
 
 and 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 271 
 
 and copioufly, even on a fubjeft which mterriled 
 me fo much as your nuptials. 
 
 However, as all things mu!l have an end, the 
 joy which has been ex-p refled by our mutual 
 friends, has fublided fuffic iently, to give irre 
 leave to take up my pen with more compo- 
 fure. 
 
 Lady Melviit and I are almoft conftantly to- 
 gether. 
 
 She is happy in the polite attentions of her 
 Lord; and, I really believe, poflefles his fin- 
 cere affe£tion, as he certainly does her’s. 
 
 She accompanies me in a round of vi fits of ce- 
 remony :---in fome of thofe, 1 have been highly 
 entertained at your’s, and your beloved honor- 
 able’s expence. 
 
 Do not look grave, my dear Emily, but 
 enjoy, as I have done, the ridiculous comments 
 on your match. 
 
 I have 
 
272 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 I -have been allured by fome, who protefted 
 they had the account from the beft authority, 
 
 * that Mifs Howard, a niece of Lady Belmont’s, 
 ‘ a beautiful young creature, but juft fifteen, 
 
 * was, laft week, barbaroufty facrificed, againft 
 ■ * her will, to an old man turned of feventy !— - 
 ' an odious Indian too ! 
 
 f He pretended, indeed, to be of the Mande- 
 ‘ vjlle family, and hejr at law to Lord Belmont’s 
 ‘ eftate, and title ; but it was well known, his 
 
 * birth was fpurious ; and, as to his riches, it 
 4 was believed, they would prove counterfeit 
 
 * alfo ; for it was an undoubted fa 6 f, that a weal- 
 ‘ thy merchant fupported him, and had lent 
 ‘ him large fums, to obtain the prize of Mifs 
 
 * Howard’s hand, which would enfure him Lord 
 
 * Belmont’s fortune. 
 
 « Poor girl! they fay (he Ihin-ss in jewels; 
 
 « alas ! how will the unfortunate victim be mor- 
 
 * tified, when, like the jay in the fable file is ft rip- 
 
 <• * ped of her borrowed plumes ! 
 
 ‘ It 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 273 
 
 * It is wonderful, how a man of Lord Bcl- 
 1 mont’s good undemanding, allowed nenetra- 
 ‘ tion, and knowledge of the world, can have 
 ‘ been fo impofcfl upon.’ 
 
 I was malicious enough to lifien in hlence to 
 this curious tale. 
 
 The- consequence has been, that Lord Melvin 
 was informed, the next day, that I was quoted 
 for it’s author ! 
 
 I long to have you appear in the drawing- 
 room, in all your Eaftern magnificence, with 
 your handfome, and youthful hufband 5 that I 
 may fee whether thefe wonderfully well-informed 
 gofiipscan blufliat their own effrontery ! 
 
 Come up foon, I entreat you ; if not for this 
 purpofe, come to give the only addition that is 
 wanting to the happinefs of 
 
 Your truly affedlionate, 
 
 Anne Belville. 
 
 To 
 
274 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 To Mrs. S— . 
 
 I HAVE now, my dear madam, finifned the 
 talk of tranfcr.bing the papers I received from 
 Lady Anne BelviJie. 
 
 I ought, indeed, to call it by another name ; 
 as, I mull confefs, exclufive of the pleafure the 
 endeavouring to oblige you mull always give 
 me, I have found much fatisfa&lon in writing 
 accounts of events and chara&ers fo intereiling 
 as thefe have proved. 
 
 I have taken the liberty of leaving out many 
 of Emily’s epifHes to her friend, Mifs Kitty 
 Fortefcue, as they were chiefly repetitions of what 
 was recited in Lady Anne’s letters to Mr. Her- 
 bert. 
 
 Lady 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 275 
 
 Lady Anne has fulfilled her promife of adding 
 fome particulars, which could not be found in 
 thefe manufcripts, and, as I am convinced you 
 mull be thoroughly interefied in all that relates 
 to this worthy family, I will tranfmit them to 
 you in her own words. 
 
 * Lord and Lady Belmont refide entirely in 
 
 * the country; and as the houfe of Belmont is 
 
 * fufficiently large to admit of it, have perfuaded 
 
 * Mr. and Mrs. Mandeville to fpend moll of 
 
 * their time with them. 
 
 * They have, however, an elegant fmall 
 
 * lodge on Mr. Mandeville’s eftate, to which 
 
 * they fometimes retire for a month at a time — 
 
 * longer, they think it unkind to leave Belmont, 
 
 * as they are fenfible, they alone can keep the 
 e fpirits of that amiable pair from finking; and, 
 ‘ as Mrs. Mandeville promifed her beloved Lady 
 
 * Julia, not to forfake her parents, file would 
 4 herfelf be unhappy in a long abfence. 
 
 ‘ Colonel 
 
27 6 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 c Colonel Mandevllle*6 fpirits were, at firft, 
 
 1 roufed by the return of his fon fo unexpefted- 
 
 * ly ; but they have funk again ! 
 
 ‘ He has not that ft rong afii fiance which true 
 ( religion gives, and which has enabled Lord 
 
 * and Lady Belmont to conquer their afflic- 
 ‘ lion ! 
 
 * Colonel Mandeville is a ftri£t moralift i but 
 
 * revelation has not had its proper influence on 
 
 * his mind ! and morality, alone, is not fuffici- 
 ‘ ent to teach patience in adverlity ; and to in- 
 £ fpire that comfort which arifes from a pious 
 ‘ trull in God! 
 
 ‘ To this caufe I aferibe the return of his 
 
 * dejection ; — the world have afligned another 
 
 * reafon, viz. 
 
 e That, though Mr. Mandeville is the very 
 e bed: of foils, and continues the mod exalted of 
 6 characters, yet, that the Colonel feels himfelt 
 
 * mortified, at feeing his darling Harry excelled 
 
 * by 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 277 
 
 by a young man, who had never been a favo- 
 rite, and who had never received the benefit 
 of his inftruHions 
 
 ‘ This fentiment would fliew a littienefs of 
 mind, that I verily believe him incapable of; 
 but yet, I fear, his poor Harry’s beloved form 
 (till haunts his imagination ; and will not per- 
 mit him to reap all the happineis he might now 
 enjoy ! 
 
 * Emily is as happy a wife as myfelf, which is 
 faying all I know how to defcribe. 
 
 ‘ Her own two lovely boys are not dearer to 
 her, than the charming Agnes ; who is, with- 
 out exception, the mo ft delightful creature I 
 ever beheld !*. 
 
 ‘ Her form is fo perfefh, that (he might be 
 chofen as a model for a ftatuary to copy. 
 
 c Her face is not fo beautiful from its fine 
 features, faultlefs as thefe are, as it is from 
 
273 THE HISTORY OF 
 
 ‘ expreflion— it is the index of a lively and en- 
 
 •» 
 
 ‘ gaging mind. 
 
 * Her undemanding, and difpofition, pro- 
 
 * rnife that the fruit will be equal to the blof- 
 
 * fom ! 
 
 * The family at Belmont are fo happy in 
 
 * themfelves, and the fociety of Mr. Ware, 
 
 * Mr. Herbert, and Mr. Gray, that they do 
 ‘ not extend their acquaintance farther than 
 c civility requires. 
 
 c Lady Mary Mandeville has paid that debt 
 
 * to nature, which all are fome day to pay. 
 
 * She left her large fortune to Lord Belmont. 
 
 ( She never was cordially attached to any 
 ‘ body but her brother, and her admired Harry. 
 
 c Colonel Belville and myfelf, are annual vi(i- 
 
 * tors at Belmont ; and, as I cannot go without 
 
 f my 
 
CHARLES MANDEVILLE. 
 
 279 
 
 * my four little prattlers, we make a large party— 
 ‘ but it is a happy one. 
 
 ‘ Conjugal love, and parental affe&ion, with 
 
 * all the joys which friendlhip, founded upon 
 ‘ virtue, can yield, prevents our ever feeling 
 ‘ that fathionable difeafe, called ennui ; which, 
 i epidemical as it plainly is, amongftour great 
 ‘ people, find* no cure in a round of d illpation 
 
 * and amu'ements, as they call their avocations ; 
 
 * and, I fear, they are not, in general, quali- 
 ‘ fied to try our never-failing recipe.’ 
 
 I will now, my dear Mrs. S , lay down 
 
 my pen, and fincerely wifh you may receive 
 from it, the pleafure this long ufe of it has 
 given to 
 
 Your fincerely affe&ionate 
 
 Jane P 
 
 ;F I N I S. 
 

£