I LOVE not, at peep of day,
To chase, with dogs, a timid prey;
My heart is rather prone to spare,
The stately stag, the harmless hare:
For, with a faithful, gen’rous friend,
I would my Social Evenings spend.
Lur’d by the chearful Noontide-heat,
When insects quit their lone retreat;
I would not that a worm should dread
The ruin of my heedless tread:
For, with a faithful, gen’rous friend,
I would my Social Evenings spend.
Thus, when Night draws her curtain round.
May I be ne’er with maniacs found;
Who, to forget their guilty day,
Must wash reflection all away!
For, with a faithful, gen’rous friend,
I would my Social Evenings spend.
_NEW-YORK: +Printed by JOHN TIEBOUT, No. 358, Pearl-Street, for THOMAS
BURLING, Jun. & Co.+ +Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 6s. per
quarter) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and at the Book-Store of
Mr. J. FELLOWS, Pine-Street._
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE;
or, Miscellaneous Repository.
+Vol. II.+] _Wednesday, June 7, 1797._ [+No. 101.+
[_A late writer in the London Monthly Magazine, in expatiating on
the unreasonable disposition of the fair sex, brings forward, as
a proof of the authenticity of his remarks, the following Letter
of Lady COMPTON to her husband, which is now preserved in the
British Museum, as a curiosity._]
* * *
“MY SWEET LIFE,
“Now I have declared to you my mind for the settling of your state,
I supposed that it were best for me to bethink and consider within
myself, what allowance were meetest for me: for considering what care I
ever had of your estate, and how respectfully I dealt with those which
both by the laws of God, of nature, and civil policy, wit, religion,
government, and honesty, you, my dear, is bound to; I pray and beseech
you to grant to me, your most kind and loving wife, the sum of 2600l.
quarterly to be paid. Also I would, besides that allowance, have 600l.
quarterly to be paid, for the performance of charitable works: and those
things I WOULD NOT, neither WILL BE, accountable for. Also I WILL HAVE
three horses for my own saddle, that none shall dare to lend or borrow:
none lend but I, none borrow but you. Also I would have two gentlewomen,
lest one should be sick, or have some other let. Also, believe it, it is
an undecent thing for a gentlewoman to stand mumping alone, when God
hath blessed their lord and lady with a great estate. Also, when I ride
a-hunting, or a hawking, or travel from one house to another, I will
have them attending; so, for either of those said women, I MUST AND WILL
HAVE for either of them a horse. Also I will have six or eight
gentlemen; and I will have my two coaches, one lined with velvet to
myself, with four very fair horses; and a coach for my women, lined with
cloth, and laced with gold; the other with scarlet, and laced with
silver, with four good horses. Also I will have two coachmen, one for my
own coach, the other for my women. Also at any time when I travel,
I will be allowed not only _carroches_, and spare horses for me and my
women, but I will have such carriages as shall be fitting for all,
orderly, not pestering my things with my women’s; nor their’s with
either chambermaid’s; nor their’s with wash-maids. Also for laundresses,
when I travel, I will have them sent away before with the carriages, to
see all safe. And the chambermaids I will have go before, that the
chamber may be ready, sweet, and clean. Also for that it is undecent to
crowd up myself with my gentleman usher in my coach, I will have him to
have a convenient horse to attend me, either in city or country. And I
must have two footmen. And my desire is, that you defray all the charges
for me. And for myself, besides my yearly allowance, I would have twenty
gowns of apparel, six of them excellent good ones, eight of them for the
country, and six other of them very excellent good ones. Also I would
have to put in my purse 2000l. and 200l. and so you to PAY MY DEBTS.
Also I would have 6000l. to buy me jewels, and 4000l. to buy me a pearl
chain. Now, seeing I have been, and am, so REASONABLE unto you, I pray
you do find my children apparel, and schooling, and all my servants, men
and women, their wages. Also, I will have all my houses furnished, and
my lodging chambers to be suited with all such furniture as is fit; as
beds, stools, chairs, suitable cushions, carpets, silver warming-pans,
cupboards of plate, fair hangings, and such like. So for my drawing
chamber in all houses, I will have them delicately furnished, both with
hangings, couch, canopy, glass, carpet, chairs, cushions, and all things
thereunto belonging. Also my desire is, that you would PAY YOUR DEBTS,
build up Ashby-house, and purchase lands, and lend no money, as you love
God, to the Lord-Chamberlain, who would have all, perhaps your life,
from you. Remember his son, my lord Walden, what entertainment he gave
me, when you were at Tilt-yard. If you were dead, he said, he would be a
husband, a father, a brother, and said he would marry me. I protest,
I grieve to see the poor man have so little wit and honesty to use his
friends so vilely. Also he fed me with untruths concerning the
Charter-house, but that is the least; he wished me much harm, you know
how. God keep you and me from him, and any such as he is. So now that I
have declared to you what I would have, and what it is that I would not
have, I pray, when you be an earl, to allow me 2000l. more than now I
desire, and double attendance.
“Your loving wife,
“ELIZA COMPTON.”
[[Notes:
This is apparently a real letter. William Compton, Eliza’s husband,
inherited somewhere between £500,000 and £800,000 in 1610. The letter
may date from 1617; it can be no later than 1618, when William was
created Earl of Northumberland.]]
* * * * *
* * * *
The
_WANDERINGS_
of the
IMAGINATION.
_BY MRS. GOOCH._
(Continued from page 379.)
* * *
_FOURTH WANDERING._
There are few subjects which deserve a closer investigation of the
legislation of the legislative power, and which is more neglected, than
the excessive cruelty that is exercised in this metropolis over unhappy,
and devoted _animals_. As they have no law to protect them, they are
doubly entitled to the attention of Humanity. It is scarcely possible to
walk through the city (London) without having one’s feelings tortured by
the abandoned race of butcher’s boys, and drovers. I could mention many,
I might say daily instances of what I have been painfully compelled to
witness, whenever I was led into that part of the town. One only I will
mention, which strongly evinces philanthropy on one hand, and infamy on
the other.
These contrasted practices belonging to the same class of people, the
lowest order, of the vulgar, are convincing proofs, that _Education_ has
less to do with the formation of our ideas, and the realization of our
actions, than _Nature_. She governs the human system, while she forms
it; and however villainy may be glossed over by the specious arts of
accomplished deception in splendid life, or worth may lie concealed
under the thick shade of retirement, the innate sentiment still “grows
with our growth,” and effectually steers us throughout the course of our
existence.
It is not three weeks since I was going up Snow-hill, and was met by a
number of sheep, followed by one of these imps of the Devil that I have
mentioned. As I was standing by, to let them pass, I was struck by the
voice of an old woman, whose “tattered garment spoke variety of
wretchedness,” and who, (to continue the simile) was exactly what Fancy
pictures _Otway_’s witch to have been. She was mourning over one of
these wretched animals, who had sunk on its knees, exhausted by
ill-usage and fatigue. One horn was plucked out by the roots; its legs
were lacerated, and streaming with blood, which issued from the
nostrils, while the _man_ (why I am _forced_ to call him so) was
employing all his strength in belabouring, with a thick stick, its
agonized sides!--The old woman was remonstrating, with all the eloquence
of genuine humanity. It was a foreign language to a wretch of this
description, and he answered her in his own; while I walked on; unable
to bear the sight before me, or to attend to the impious execrations of
the infernal cause of it.
How continually do we behold the newly-expired carcase of the generous
Horse, that has at last surrendered to toils beyond his strength! The
horse, which has been proudly contended for, and brought a little mine
of wealth to his ungrateful master, is now denied by him even that
little that would make his old age comfortable. Houseless, and hungry,
he smarts under the galling whip, and is not allowed _that_ rest which
God has equally ordained for man and brute. Mr. Dibdin’s justly
celebrated song of _The Race-Horse_, is more descriptive than I can be
of the horrid barbarities practised against this most useful creature;
and which is, both in strength and generosity, superior to his masters.
There are many licensed abuses; and I will confine myself to one more
only. It is an essential one, and ought to be remedied. I mean,
respecting _Servants_. This class of people is particularly happy in its
privileges. The Soldier, and the Sailor, are sure to meet with severe
corporal punishment, if, in the slightest instance, they disobey the
commands of their superior; but for the Servant, there is no punishment,
unless caught in the very act of robbery; and even then, much money,
time, and uneasiness, must be the cost, before you can bring yourself
publicly to expose them.
How continually it happens, that exorbitant wages are due to these
people, which it is not immediately convenient for the master, or
mistress, to discharge. In that case, the servant, well acquainted with
the circumstance, becomes insolent, or, at best, regardless; and if you
find fault with them, they ask you, why you do not pay, and discharge
them? while they are well convinced, that if you did pay and discharge
them, they must either adopt another mode of conduct, or be reduced to
beggary. But though these are facts too common throughout life, yet
still, for the honour of humanity, some exceptions are to be found, but,
in general, this inference may be drawn from contrasting characters of
the same description in different, though similar situations, and proves
one important fact, that in all situations, where vulgar minds can have
an ascendancy, or pre-eminence, tyranny will ever be the result of their
conduct, whether in the Drover or the Domestic.
The Courtezan, who, from dirt and darkness, emerges, by fortuitous
circumstances, to gaudy splendor, and untasted affluence; or the
low-bred mechanic, who, by carping care, and assiduous industry, in
taking the advantage of the wants of those with whom he has
acquaintance, or connection, rises into opulence, the vulgar mind will
always appear in their conduct and behaviour. A haughty overbearing
demeanor will always mark their manner to those who may have the
misfortune to be under their power, and inconsistent meanness will ever
appear, from under their most sumptuous trappings, when attempting
elegance and refinement--but why it should be so is neither unnatural or
wonderful--for the truth is, that conscious of their own innate
meanness, and incapacity to sustain the character they would wish to
assume, they conceive that all who have known them, or do know them,
entertain the same contemptible ideas of them as they do of themselves,
and hence conclude it necessary, in support of that dignity to which
they aspire, or assume, to treat those around them with hauteur and
tyranny, to impress on their minds a constant practice of the submission
and obedience they wish to exact. It were well if the indigent, who may
attain to affluence, or the menial servant, who may arise to superiority
of situation in life, would recollect that greatness of soul, and
elevation of sentiment, are equally shown, though not so efficaciously
proved, in want as in wealth; in being commanded as in commanding.
Ostensible situations to such as are incapable of filling them, only
display the imperfections of the possessor in a more prominent point of
view; and it were well also, if those whom Nature made in hasty moments,
and in its coarsest moulds, whom Reason never regenerated, nor Education
ever refined--whose ideas never have, and perhaps never can be enlarged,
and whose sentiments, if ever sentiments arose in the breast of such
persons, were only conducive to encourage them in the pursuit of their
grovelling designs, and barbarous and unrefined opinions, would seek the
coverture of the shade, rather than expose their fantastic enormities,
and preposterous ignorance and inability in the sunshine.
_FIFTH WANDERING._
It has been said, and more than that it is generally believed, that
happiness is not to be found on earth. I deny it. For although I have
never been allowed even to taste it in domestic life (with which the
world is too well acquainted to doubt my veracity) yet I have observed
almost daily instances of what I call happiness; and which, if not
admitted to be such by those in the enjoyment of it, fully demonstrates
a wilful incapacity to know its value, and ingratitude to that Being
who, for his own wise purposes, bestows or takes it away.
There are two conditions of life from which only I conceive happiness to
be naturally excluded; and by these I mean the extremes of affluence and
penury. The man who abounds in wealth cannot be happy. His soul, if
naturally great, is confined within the narrow precincts of custom and
education, and has no room to expand itself. Few of these have courage,
if they do not want inclination, to pry into the distresses of their
fellow-creatures; and they dread the effect of prejudice, as they would
dread the effect of treason. I am sorry to speak from my own
observation, when I declare, that throughout this wealthy metropolis,
(London) I have never yet found one man, rich in the gifts of fortune,
who had spirit enough to disdain the tinsel shew that surrounded him,
and consecrate his time and his money to those whom he seemed sent into
the world to gladden and relieve. One only instance have I heard of it
in the female world; and to her virtues, more than to her rank, may the
honest tribute of applause, not the flattering voice of adulation, be
given: I mean the Dowager Countess S----, where virtue unites itself to
talents, and both combine to render _her_ on whom they are bestowed
inestimable. What heart can refrain from offering up thanks to its
Creator, who now and then condescends, as in _her_, to shew a well-drawn
picture of himself? While she lives, her numerous charities cannot be
forgotten; and when that God whom she adores transplants her to a world
more worthy of her, still shall her name remain immortalized, while
gratitude holds a place in the hearts of the many indigent her bounties
have deigned to relieve!
But to proceed to my ideas of happiness;--I say ideas, because I have
only drawn a sketch of it from what I have seen, and from “_The
Wanderings of my Imagination_.” Can I picture to myself a greater
felicity than a happy independent family I once saw in Yorkshire? They
were many in number, yet one soul seemed to animate all. The old farmer,
who had no more than he wished for, nor wished for more than he
possessed, was one of those jovial, honest, well-meaning men, whose
knowledge of the world extended not beyond the limits of his own farm.
His family consisted of an old widowed sister, whom he supported, his
wife, three daughters, and a son, who imitating his sire in industrious
labour and attention to the peaceful and useful arts of agriculture, was
requited by that tranquillity of mind which is ever the result of a good
disposition.
Nature had by no means slighted the daughters in the formation of their
outward graces; but had, on the contrary, given convincing proofs that
those requisites necessary to engage the eye, and interest the heart of
every beholder, were to be met with in the unassuming manners, and
unaffected benignity, which beamed in each of their countenances. These
strongly indicated that their minds was the soil where all the social
virtues, that diffuse happiness alike to the possessor and those in
connection with them, were to be found cultivated and sublimed;
endowments which require more of the sunshine in life to sustain or
invigorate; but blossoming and ripening in the shade, bid defiance to
the canker of time, and the chilling damps of progressive age. Their
prospects in life bounded and unenlarged, gave increase of pleasure and
tranquillity, by their having fewer wants to suffice, and fewer
expectations to pursue; for the less desire we have for the
gratification of our passions, the more our minds must be at ease. The
airy phantoms and deluding visions raised by the magic of Imagination,
are more or less conjured up by awakened passions roused by variety of
scenes striking our different senses; those once awakened, are soon
allured; and allurements once indulged, are seldom allayed. But why do I
thus insensibly wander? Why am I deviating so widely and wildly from my
intended narration of rustic felicity? Yes, I must indulge it. Visions
of earthly pleasure, whither are you fled? Oh, social delights, known
only in domestic seclusion, and blooming only in sequestered retirement,
why am I forbid to enter your hallowed abodes? I must now only in
sadness survey what once I might have enjoyed, had the dictates of
nature (in me) been obeyed; and instead of being made the victim of
fashion, I should now be solacing myself with the inestimable pleasures
of a tranquil mind, and the rational reflection of enjoying all that is
worth enjoyment in life, and consequently fulfilling all the ends for
which life was bestowed. But, ah! like thousands more who have lived,
and will live hereafter, and in spite of all that Poets have sung, and
Philosophers taught, we live not for ourselves, but for others.
(To be continued.)
* * * * *
* * * *
_THE FARRAGO._
* * *