own sermon or letter on that subject, was a little offended, and said gravely: 'I should be glad to know the reason ' of this immoderate mirth. Is adultery a matter of jest ' in your opinion?'

'Far otherwise,' answered Booth. But how is it 'possible to refrain from laughter at the idea of a fellow preaching a sermon in favour of it at such a place?'

'I am very sorry,' cries the doctor, 'to find the age 'is grown to so scandalous a degree of licentiousness, 'that we have thrown off not only virtue, but decency. 'How abandoned must be the manners of any nation where such insults upon religion and morality can be 'committed with impunity! No man is fonder of true 'wit and humour than myself; but to profane sacred things with jest and scoffing, is a sure sign of a weak and a wicked mind. It is the very vice which Homer 'attacks in the odious character of Thersites. The ladies 'must excuse my repeating the passage to you, as I know 'you have Greek enough to understand it.

•Ος ρ' έπεα φρεσὶν ἦσιν ἄκοσμά τε, πολλά τε ἤδη.

Μὰψ, ἀτὰρ ἐ κατὰ κόσμον εριζέμεναι βασιλεῦσιν,

• Αλλ' ὅ, τι οι εἴσαιτο γελοίον Αργείοισιν

αἴσχισος δὲ ἀνὴρ ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθε.

'Horace again describes such a rascal :

-Solutos

Qui captat risus hominum famamque dicacis.‡

* Thus paraphrased by Mr. Pope :

Aw'd by no shame, by no respect controll'd,
In scandal busy, in reproaches bold:

With witty malice, studious to defame,
'Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim.'

He was the greatest scoundrel in the whole army.'

Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise,

And courts of prating petulance the praise.'

FRANCIS.

"Hic niger est, hunc tu, Romane, caveto.'

'O charming Homer,' said Mrs. Atkinson, 'how much ' above all other writers !'

'I ask your pardon, Madam,' said the doctor; 'I forgot you was a scholar; but, indeed, I did not know you understood Greek as well as Latin.'

'I do not pretend,' said she, 'to be a critic in the 'Greek; but I think I am able to read a little of Homer, at least with the help of looking now and then into the 'Latin.'

เ

เ Pray, Madam,' said the doctor, how do you like • this passage in the speech of Hector to Andromache

Εἰς οἶκον ἰᾶσα τὰ σαυτῆς ἔργα κόμιζε,

• Ισόν τ' ἠλακάτην τε, καὶ ἀμφιπόλοισι κέλευε

• Εργον ἐποίχεσθαι.†

Or how do you like the character of Hippodamia, เ who, by being the prettiest girl, and best workwoman 'of her age, got one of the best husbands in all Troy? '—I think, indeed, Homer enumerates her discretion 'with her other qualifications; but I do not remember he gives us one character of a woman of learning.—Don't you conceive this to be a great omission in that charming poet? However, Juvenal makes you amends, for he 'talks very abundantly of the learning of the Roman 'ladies in his time.'

'You are a provoking man, doctor,' said Mrs. Atkinเ son; 'where is the harm in a woman's having learning เ as well as a man?'

*

'Let me ask you another question,' said the doctor.

6

"This man is black, do thou, O Roman! shun this man.'

Go home and mind your own business. Follow your spinning, and 'keep your maids to their work.'

'Where is the harm in a man's being a fine performer 'with a needle as well as a woman? And yet, answer 'me honestly, would you greatly choose to marry a man 'with a thimble upon his finger? his finger? Would Would you in earnest 'think a needle became the hand of your husband as ' well as a halberd ?'

เ

'As to war, I am with you,' said she.

'Homer him

'self, I well remember, makes Hector tell his wife, that 'warlike works-What is the Greek word-Pollemysomething-belonged to men only; and I readily agree 'to it. I hate a masculine woman, an Amazon, as much as you can do; but what is there masculine in learn'ing ?'

เ

'Nothing so masculine, take my word for it. As for your Pollemy, I look upon it to be the true charac'teristic of a devil. So Homer every where characterises 'Mars.'

'Indeed, my dear,' cries the serjeant, 'you had better 'not dispute with the doctor; for, upon my word, he will 'be too hard for you.'

'Nay, I beg you will not interfere,' cries Mrs. Atkinson; I am 'I am sure you can be no judge in these

' matters.'

At which the doctor and Booth burst into a loud laugh; and Amelia, though fearful of giving her friend offence, could not forbear a gentle smile.

You may laugh, gentlemen, if you please,' said Mrs. Atkinson; but I thank Heaven, I have married a man 'who is not jealous of my understanding. I should have เ been the most miserable woman upon earth with a 'starched pedant, who was possessed of that nonsensical opinion, that the difference of sexes causes any difference ' in the mind. Why don't you honestly avow the Turkish notion, that women have no souls? for you say the same thing in effect.'

'

เ

'Indeed, my dear,' cries the serjeant, greatly concerned to see his wife so angry, 'you have mistaken the doctor.' 'I beg, my dear,' cried she, you will say nothing upon these subjects—I hope you at least do not despise my understanding.'

'I assure you, I do not,' said the serjeant; and I 'hope you will never despise mine; for a man may have some understanding, I hope, without learning.'

Mrs. Atkinson reddened extremely at these words; and the doctor, fearing he had gone too far, began to soften matters, in which Amelia assisted him. By these means, the storm, rising in Mrs. Atkinson before, was in some measure laid, at least suspended, from bursting at present; but it fell afterwards upon the poor serjeant's head in a torrent, who had learned perhaps one maxim from his trade, that a cannon-ball always doth mischief in proportion to the resistance it meets with; and that nothing so effectually deadens its force as a woolpack. The serjeant therefore bore all with patience; and the idea of a woolpack, perhaps, bringing that of a featherbed into his head, he at last not only quieted his wife; but she cried out with great sincerity, 'Well, my dear, 'I will say one thing for you, that I believe from my 'soul, though you have no learning, you have the best ' understanding of any man upon earth; and I must ' own I think the latter far the more profitable of the 'two.'

Far different was the idea she entertained of the doctor, whom, from this day, she considered as a conceited pedant; nor could all Amelia's endeavours ever alter her sentiments.

The doctor now took his leave of Booth and his wife for a week, he intending to set out within an hour or two with his old friend, with whom our readers were a little acquainted at the latter end of the ninth book, and of

whom, perhaps, they did not then conceive the most favourable opinion.

Nay, I am aware that the esteem which some readers before had for the doctor, may be here lessened; since he may appear to have been too easy a dupe to the gross flattery of the old gentleman. If there be any such critics, we are heartily sorry as well for them as for the doctor; but it is our business to discharge the part of a faithful historian, and to describe human nature as it is, not as we would wish it to be.

CHAPTER V.

In which colonel Bath appears in great glory.

THAT afternoon, as Booth was walking in the Park, he met with colonel Bath, who presently asked him for the letter which he had given him the night before; upon which Booth immediately returned it.

'Don't you think,' cries Bath, 'it is writ with great dignity of expression and emphasis of-of-of judg'ment ?'

'I am surprised, though,' cries Booth, 'that any one 'should write such a letter to you, colonel.'

'To me!' said Bath.- What do you mean, Sir, I hope you don't imagine any man durst write such a letter to me? d-n me, if I knew a man who thought me capable of debauching my friend's wife, I would d-n

'me.'

เ

'I believe, indeed, Sir,' cries Booth, that no man 'living dares put his name to such a letter; but you see 'it is anonymous.'