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to wait four hours there in expectation of the gen. tlemen with whom they were to dance; for, at that instant, a loud noise at the lower end of the hall at. tracted my notice. · There they come,' said she ; and I soon perceived a number of young gentlemen staggering up the room, all of them flustered, some of them perfectly intoxicated. Their behaviour (I forbear to mention the particulars) was such as might be expected.
In a few days I was quite satisfied with the amuse. ments of Edinburgh, and with pleasure, retired once more to my solitude at
There, however, I again fell a sacrifice to ennui : I could contrive no way to fill up my time. After passing two or three tedious years, I resolved to make one effort more, and set out for London, in hopes of meeting those friends with whom I had lived so happily abroad, and in whose society I now expected to receive pleasure without alloy.
Upon inquiry, I found that almost all my friends were in town, and next morning sallied forth to wait upon them. But nowhere could I gain admittance. It did not occur to me that those doors, which, at Rome or Naples, flew open at my approach, could, at London, be shut against me. I therefore concluded I had called at an improper time, and that the hours of London (with which I was but little acquainted) differed from those we had been accustomed to abroad.
In that belief, I went to the Opera in the even. ing. I had not been there long before Lord happened to come into the very box where I was. With Lord I had lived in habits of the most intimate friendship, and, in a less public place, I should have embraced him with open arms. Judge then of my astonishment, when he received my compliments with the coldness of the most perfect in,
difference. . It is needless to run through the mortifying detail. From all my friends I met with much the same reception. One talked of the business of parliament, another of his engagements at the Scavoir Vivre, or the Coterie. The Duke of who then filled one of the great offices of state, alone seemed to retain his former sentiments. One day he took me into his closet, and, after some general conversation, solicited my interest in the county of for Mr.
I told him that my engagements to the other candidate were such, that I could not possibly comply with his request. He seemed perfectly satisfied, and we parted on the best of terms; but from that day forth, his Grace never happened to be at home when I did myself the honour of calling on him.
Chagrined and mortified, I returned to Scotland. When I had got within a hundred miles of my own house, I observed, from the road, a gentleman's seat, the beauty and elegance of which struck me so much, that I stopped the carriage, and asked the post-boy to whom it belonged ! To Mr. Manly,' said he. • What, Charles Manly ?' Before I could receive an answer, my friend appeared in a field at a little distance. Manly and I had been educated at the same school, at the same university, and had set out together to make the tour of Europe. But after we had been some time in France he was called home, by accounts that his father lay dangerously ill. From that time a variety of accidents had prevented our meeting. We now met as if we had parted but yesterday; with the same freedom, the same warmth, the same glow of friendship, heightened, if possible, by our long separation.
During my stay at his house, I told him all my distresses, all my disappointments. When I had done, • To be plain with you, my friend,' said be,
• I cannot help thinking that most of your disappointments must be imputed to yourself
. Your long residence abroad, and your attachment to foreign manners, has led you to judge rather hastily of your countrymen. Had you been less rash, you might have discovered virtues in your neigh
bours that would, in some measure, have made up • for the want of that high polish and refinement • which they cannot be expected to possess. From • what you saw at Edinburgh in the hurry of a race
week, and from the behaviour of a set of men, who think that fashionable distinction consists in indulgence in low pleasures and gross amusements,
you have drawn conclusions equally unfavourable • and unjust. I know from experience, that no• where are to be found men of more agreeable con
versation, or women more amiable and respectable. • Your late disappointment, in the reception you
met with from your foreign friends, proceeds from a mistake not uncommon, from confounding that
companionship, so apt to produce a temporary ' union among young men, when engaged in the
same pleasures and amusements, with real friend.
ship, which seldom or never has been found to • subsist between men differing much in rank and • condition, and whose views and objects in life de s not in some measure coincide.'
I am now, Mr. Mirror, fully convinced of the truth of Manly's observations; and am every day more and more satisfied, that it is a misfortune for a private gentleman, who means to pass his days in his native country, to become attached to foreign manners and foreign customs, in so considerable a degree, as a long residence abroad, in the earlier period of life, seldom fails to produce.
I am, &c. м.
N° 58. SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 1779.
Veniam damus petimusque vicissim.
HOR. The mutual complaints of Mr. and Mrs. Gold, which have been communicated in a former paper, together with some complaints of similar family-distresses, which I have received from other Correspondents, often remind me of the happy effects which my friends Horatio and Emilia have experienced from an opposite temper and conduct.
Horatio, though he obtained a very liberal education, lived till the age of twenty-five almost entirely in the country. The small fortune which he inherited from his father being about this time increased by his succeeding to a distant relation, he afterwards spent some years in this city, in London, and in making the usual tour on the continent.
Soon after his return, he married the young and beautiful Emilia, to whom he had become warmly attached, not so much on account of her beauty, as from an expression of a sweet, though lively temper, which marked her countenance-which, when admitted to a more intimate acquaintance, he found to be justified by her conversation and manners.
Emilia's father was addicted to pleasure and expence, and her mother, though more accomplished, of a similar disposition. In their family she had been accustomed to a life of more than ordinary gaiety.
Though Horatio felt, in all its extent, that passion which is nowise favourable to a just estimation of character, these circumstances had not escaped his notice, and he failed not to observe that Emilia had acquired a stronger attachment to the pleasures of a town life, than was either right in itself, or agreeable to that preference for domestic society, and the quiet of a country life, which he had always felt, and which he still wished to gratify.
In place, however, of acquainting Emilia with his taste in these particulars, he judged it better to let her enjoy that style of life to which she had been accustomed, not doubting, from the natural good sense and sweetness of her disposition, that her own taste might gradually be corrected; and that as his should from time to time fall under her observation, it might contribute to the change.
He took up his residence, therefore, in town, and though Emilia went into company, and frequented public places more than he could have wished, he complied with her inclination in these particulars, partook of her amusements when he was not necessarily engaged, and, when he did so, carefully avoided betraying that indifference or disgust which he often felt.
While Horatio, however, gave way to the taste of Emilia, he never lost the inclination, nor neglected the means, of reforming it.
Amidst the gaiety to which she had been accustomed, Emilia had early formed a taste for the elegant writers, both of this country and of France ; and the same sensibility and delicacy of mind, which led her to admire them, made her no less sensible of the beauties of a polished and refined conversation. It was this which had first gained the affections of Horatio ; it was to this he trusted for effecting the reformation he desired.