in the most earnest manner to her care: she said, she had promised faithfully to take care of them, and would, while they were entrusted to her, fulfil her promise. For which profession Heartfree expressed much gratitude to her; and after indulging himself with some little fondnesses, which we shall not relate, he delivered his children into the good woman's hands, and dismissed her.

CHAPTER II.

A soliloquy of Heartfree's, full of low and base ideas, without a syllable of GREATNESS.

BEING now alone he sat some short time silent, and then burst forth into the following soliloquy :

'What shall I do? Shall I abandon myself to a dispirited despair, or fly in the face of the Almighty? Surely both are unworthy of a wise man; for what can be more vain than weakly to lament my fortune, if irretrievable, or, if hope remains, to offend that Being, who can most strongly support it: but are my passions then voluntary? Am I so absolutely their master, that I can resolve with myself, so far only will I grieve? Certainly no. Reason, however we flatter ourselves, hath not such despotic empire in our minds, that it can, with imperial voice, hush all our sorrow in a moment. Where then is its use? For either it is an empty sound, and we are deceived in thinking we have reason, or it is given us to some end, and hath a part assigned it by the all-wise Creator.Why, what can its office be, other than justly to weigh the worth of all things, and to direct us to that perfection of human wisdom, which proportions our esteem of every object by its real merit, and prevents us from over or under valuing whatever we hope for, we enjoy, or we lose. It doth not foolishly say to us, be not glad or be not sorry, which would be as vain and idle, as to bid the purling river cease to run, or the raging wind to blow. It prevents us only from exulting, like children when we receive a toy, or from lamenting when we are deprived of it. Suppose then I have lost the enjoyments of this world, and my ex

pectation of future pleasure and profit is for ever disappointed; what relief can my reason afford? What, unless it can show me I had fixed my affections on a toy; that what I desired was not, by a wise man, eagerly to be affected, nor its loss violently deplored; for there are toys adapted to all ages, from the rattle to the throne; and perhaps the value of all is equal to their several possessors; for if the rattle pleases the ear of the infant, what can the flattery of sycophants give more to the prince. The latter is as far from examining into the reality and source of his pleasure, as the former; for if both did, they must both equally despise it. And surely, if we consider them seriously, and compare them together, we shall be forced to conclude all those pomps and pleasures, of which men are so fond, and which, through so much danger and difficulty, with such violence and villany they pursue, to be as worthless trifles as any exposed to sale in a toy-shop-I have often noted my little girl viewing, with eager eyes, a jointed baby; I have marked the pains and solicitations she hath used, till I have been prevailed on to indulge her with it. At her first obtaining it, what joy hath sparkled in her countenance! with what raptures hath she taken possession; but how little satisfaction hath she found in it! What pains to work out her amusement from it! Its dress must be varied; the tinsel ornaments which first caught her eyes, produce no longer pleasure; she endeavours to make it stand and walk in vain, and is constrained herself to supply it with conversation. In a day's time it is thrown by and neglected, and some less costly toy preferred to it. How like the situation of this child is that of every man! What difficulties in the pursuit of his desires! What inanity in the possession of most, and satiety in those which seem more real and substantial! The delights of most men are as childish and as superficial as that of my little girl; a feather or a fiddle are their pursuits and their pleasures through life, even to their ripest years, if such men may be said to attain any ripeness at all. But let us survey those whose under

standings are of a more elevated and refined temper: How empty do they soon find the world of enjoyments worth their desire or attaining! How soon do they retreat to solitude and contemplation, to gardening and planting, and such rural amusements, where their trees and they enjoy the air and the sun in common, and both vegetate with very little difference between them. But suppose (which neither truth nor wisdom will allow) we could admit something more valuable and substantial in these blessings, would not the uncertainty of their possession be alone sufficient to lower their price? How mean a tenure is that at the will of fortune, which chance, fraud, and rapine are every day so likely to deprive us of, and often the more likely by how much the greater worth our possessions are of! Is it not to place our affections on a bubble in the water, or on a picture in the clouds? What madman would build a fine house, or frame a beautiful garden on land in which he held so uncertain an interest? But again, was all this less undeniable, did fortune, the lady of our manor, lease to us for our lives; of how little consideration must even this term appear? For admitting that these pleasures were not liable to be torn from us, how certainly must we be torn from them! Perhaps to-morrow-nay, or even sooner: for as the excellent poet says,

'Where is to-morrow?

In the other world.

To thousands this is true, and the reverse

Is sure to none."

But if I have no further hope in this world, can I have none beyond it? Surely those laborious writers, who have taken such infinite pains to destroy or weaken all the proofs of futurity, have not so far succeeded as to exclude us from hope. That active principle in man which with such boldness pushes us on through every labour and difficulty, to attain the most distant and most improbable event in this world, will not surely deny us a little flattering prospect of those beautiful mansions, which, if they could be thought chimerical, must be allowed the love

liest which can entertain the eye of man; and to which the road, if we understand it rightly, appears to have so few thorns and briars in it, and to require so little labour and fatigue from those who shall pass through it, that its ways are truly said to be ways of pleasantness, and all its paths to be those of peace. If the proofs of christianity be as strong as I imagine them, surely enough may be deduced from that ground only, to comfort and support the most miserable man in his afflictions. And this I think my reason tells me, that if the professors and propagators of infidelity are in the right, the losses which death brings to the virtuous are not worth their lamenting; but if these are, as certainly they seem, in the wrong, the blessings it procures them are not sufficiently to be coveted and rejoiced at.

On my own account then, I have no cause for sorrow, but on my children's !-Why, the same Being to whose goodness and power I entrust my own happiness, is likewise as able and as willing to procure theirs. Nor matters it what state of life is allotted for them, whether it be their fate to procure bread with their own labour, or to eat it at the sweat of others. Perhaps, if we consider the case with proper attention, or resolve it with due sincerity; the former is much the sweeter. The hind may be more happy than the lord; for his desires are fewer, and those such as are attended with more hope and less fear. I will do my utmost to lay the foundations of my children's happiness, I will carefully avoid educating them in a station superior to their fortune, and for the event trust to that Being, in whom whoever rightly confides, must be superior to all worldly sorrows.'

In this low manner, did this poor wretch proceed to argue, till he had worked himself up into an enthusiasm, which by degrees soon became invulnerable to every human attack; so that when Mr. Snap acquainted him with the return of the writ, and that he must carry him to Newgate, he received the message as Socrates did the news of the ship's arrival, and that he was to prepare for death.

CHAPTER HII.

Wherein our hero proceeds in the road to GREATNESS. BUT we must not detain our reader too long with these low characters. He is doubtless as impatient as the audience at the theatre, till the principal figure returns on the stage; we will therefore indulge his inclination, and pursue the actions of the Great Wild.

There happened to be in the stage-coach, in which Mr. Wild travelled from Dover, a certain young gentleman who had sold an estate in Kent, and was going to London to receive the money.-There was likewise a handsome young woman who had left her parents at Canterbury, and was proceeding to the same city, in order (as she informed her fellow travellers) to make her fortune. With this girl the young spark was so much enamoured, that he publicly acquainted her with the purpose of his journey, and offered her a considerable sum in hand, and a settlement, if she would consent to return with him into the country, where she would be at a safe distance from her relations. Whether she accepted this proposal or no, we are not able with any tolerable certainty to deliver: But Wild, the moment he heard of his money, began to cast about in his mind by what means he might become master of it. He entered into a long harangue about the methods of carrying money safely on the road, and said, 'He had at that time two bank bills of a hundred pounds each sewed in his coat; which, added he, is so safe a way, that it is almost impossible I should be in any danger of being robbed by the most cunning highwayman.

The young gentleman, who was no descendant of Solomon, or, if he was, did not, any more than some other descendants of wise men, inherit the wisdom of his ancestor, greatly approved Wild's ingenuity, and thanking him for his information, declared he would follow his example when he returned into the country: By which means he proposed to save the premium commonly taken for the remittance. Wild had then no more to do but to