contrary, she was of a meek spirit, and, as she was strictly virtuous herself, so she always put the best construction upon the words and actions of her neighbors, except where they were irreconcilable to the rules of honesty and decency. She was neither one of your precise prudes, nor one of your fantastical old belles, that dress themselves like girls of fifteen; as she neither wore a ruff, forehead cloth, nor high-crowned hat, so she had laid aside feathers, flowers, and crimpt ribbons in her headdress, furbelow scarfs, and hooped petticoats. She scorned to patch and paint, yet she loved to keep her hands and her face clean. Though she wore no flaunting laced ruffles, she would not keep herself in a constant sweat with greasy flannel; though her hair was not stuck with jewels, she was not ashamed of a diamond cross; she was not, like some ladies, hung about with toys and trinkets, tweezer cases, pocket glasses, and essence bottles; she used only a gold watch and an almanac, to mark the hours and the holy days.

Her furniture was neat and genteel, well-fancied, with a bon goût. As she affected not the grandeur of a state with a canopy, she thought there was no offense in an elbow chair; she had laid aside your carving, gilding, and japan work, as being too apt to gather dirt; but she never could be prevailed upon to part with plain wainscot and clean hangings. There are some ladies that affect to smell a stink in everything; they are always highly perfumed, and continually burning frankincense in their rooms; she was above such affectation, yet she never would lay aside the use of brooms, and scrubbing brushes, and scrupled not to lay her linen in fresh lavender.

She was no less genteel in her behavior, well-bred, without affectation, in the due mean between one of your affected courtesying pieces of formality, and your romps that have no regard to the common rules of civility. There are some ladies that affect a mighty regard for their relations: "We must not eat to-day, for my uncle Tom, or my cousin Betty, died this time ten years let's have a ball to-night, it is my neighbor such a one's birthday;" she looked upon all this as grimace; yet she constantly observed her husband's birthday, her wedding day, and some few more.

Though she was a truly good woman, and had a sincere motherly love for her son John, yet there wanted not those who endeavored to create a misunderstanding between them, and

they had so far prevailed with him once that he turned her out of doors [the Civil War]; to his great sorrow, as he found afterwards, for his affairs went on at sixes and sevens.

She was no less judicious in the turn of her conversation and choice of her studies, in which she far exceeded all her sex : our rakes that hate the company of all sober, grave gentlewomen, would bear hers, and she would, by her handsome manner of proceeding, sooner reclaim them than some that were more sour and reserved. She was a zealous preacher of chastity and conjugal fidelity in wives [passive obedience], and by no means a friend to the new-fangled doctrine of the indispensable duty of cuckoldom [right of rebellion]. Though she advanced her opinions with a becoming assurance, yet she never ushered them in, as some positive creatures will do, with dogmatical assertions, "This is infallible; I cannot be mistaken; none but a rogue can deny it." It has been observed that such people are oftener in the wrong than anybody.

Though she had a thousand good qualities, she was not without her faults, amongst which one might perhaps reckon too great lenity to her servants, to whom she always gave good counsel, but often too gentle correction. I thought I could not say less of John Bull's mother, because she bears a part in the following transactions.

THE CHARACTER OF JOHN BULL'S SISTER PEG [SCOTLAND], WITH THE QUARRELS THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN MASTER AND MISS IN THEIR CHILDHOOD.

John had a sister, a poor girl that had been starved at nurse; anybody would have guessed Miss to have been bred up under the influence of a cruel stepdame, and John to be the fondling of a tender mother. John looked ruddy and plump, with a pair of cheeks like a trumpeter; Miss looked pale and wan, as if she had the green sickness; and no wonder, for John was the darling, he had all the good bits, was crammed with good pullet, chicken, pig, goose, and capon, while Miss had only a little oatmeal and water, or a dry crust without butter. John had his golden pippins, peaches, and nectarines; poor Miss a crab apple, sloe, or a blackberry. Master lay in the best apartment, with his bedchamber towards the south sun. Miss lodged in a garret, exposed to the north wind, which shriveled her countenance; however, this usage, though it stunted the girl in her growth, gave her a hardy constitution; she had life and

VOL. XVI.-6

countenance; however, this usage, though it stunted the girl in her growth, gave her a hardy constitution; she had life and spirit in abundance, and knew when she was ill used: now and then she would seize upon John's commons, snatch a leg of a pullet, or a bit of good beef, for which they were sure to go to fisticuffs. Master was indeed too strong for her; but Miss would not yield in the least point, but, even when Master had got her down, she would scratch and bite like a tiger; when he gave her a cuff on the ear, she would prick him with her knitting needle. John brought a great chain one day to tie her to the bedpost [attempt of Henry VIII. to unite the crowns by marriage], for which affront Miss aimed a penknife at his heart [war].

In short, these quarrels grew up to rooted aversions; they gave one another nicknames: she called him gundy-guts, and he called her lousy Peg, though the girl was a tight, clever wench as any was, and through her pale looks you might discern spirit and vivacity, which made her not, indeed, a perfect beauty, but something that was agreeable. It was barbarous in parents not to take notice of these early quarrels, and make them live better together, such domestic feuds proving afterwards the occasion of misfortunes to them both.

Peg had, indeed, some odd humors and comical antipathies,

for which John would jeer her. "What think you of my

sister Peg," says he, "that faints at the sound of an organ, and yet will dance and frisk at the noise of a bagpipe?" "What's that to you?" quoth Peg: "everybody's to choose their own music." Then Peg had taken a fancy not to say her Paternoster, which made people imagine strange things of her. Of the three brothers that have made such a clutter in the world,1 Lord Peter [Roman Church], Martin [Luther], and Jack [Calvin], Jack had of late her inclinations: Lord Peter she detested, nor did Martin stand much better in her good graces, but Jack had found the way to her heart. I have often admired [wondered] what charms she discovered in that awkward booby, till I talked with a person that was acquainted with the intrigue.

1 In Swift's "Tale of a Tub."

A DIALOGUE ON THE UNREALITY OF MATTER.

BY BISHOP BERKELEY.

[GEORGE BERKELEY, English ecclesiastic and metaphysician, was born 1685 in Ireland, son of an English official. Of precociously powerful and independent analytic mind, educated at the famous Kilkenny School, entering Trinity College (Dublin) at fifteen, and there saturated with Locke, Descartes, and Newton, and the new Calculus, he began in 1703 his "Commonplace Book," expounding his principles of the unreality of everything but mind and its ideas. In 1707 he published two tracts on mathematics; in 1709, his "New Theory of Vision"; in 1710, "Principles of Human Knowledge," a complete exposition of his doctrine; in 1713, "Three Dialogues"; in 1720, "De Motu,"-all these on the same lines. His personal life to 1721 was of traveling tutor and chaplain; 1722-1724 he held deaneries, and Swift's "Vanessa" left him half her property; 1724-1728 he was enthusiastically trying to found a Pan-American college in Bermuda (see his poem following), and resigning a rich living, spent 1728-1731 in Rhode Island, waiting for a promised government grant that never came. Returning, he published in 1733 "Alciphron, or the Minute Philosopher"; in 1734 was made bishop of Cloyne, and published "The Analyst," assailing the higher mathematics as leading to skepticism; 1735-1737, "The Querist "; 1744, “Siris," a eulogy of tar water, widening out into the deepest metaphysical discussion. He died in 1753.]

HYLAS-I am glad to find there is nothing in the accounts I heard of you.

Philonous-Pray, what were those?

Hylas - You were represented in last night's conversation as one who maintained the most extravagant opinions that ever entered into the mind of man; to wit, that there is no such thing as material substance in the world.

Philonous-That there is no such thing as what philosophers call material substance I am seriously persuaded; but if I were made to see anything absurd or skeptical in this, I should then have the same reason to renounce this that I imagine I have now to reject the contrary opinion.

Hylas What! can anything be more fantastical, more repugnant to common-sense, or a more manifest piece of skepticism, than to believe there is no such thing as matter?

Philonous-Softly, good Hylas. What if it should prove that you, who hold there is, are by virtue of that opinion a greater skeptic, and maintain more paradoxes and repugnances to common-sense, than I who believe no such thing?

Hylas-You may as soon persuade me the part is greater than the whole, as that in order to avoid absurdity and skepticism I should ever be obliged to give up my opinion in this point.

Philonous-Well, then, are you content to admit that opinion for true which upon examination shall appear most agreeable to common-sense and remote from skepticism?

Hylas - With all my heart; since you are for raising disputes about the plainest things in nature, I am content for once to hear what you have to say.

Philonous-Pray, Hylas, what do you mean by a skeptic? Hylas - I mean what all men mean-one that doubts of everything.

Philonous-He, then, who entertains no doubt concerning some particular point, with regard to that point cannot be thought a skeptic.

Hylas I agree with you.

Philonous-Whether doth doubting consist, in embracing the affirmative or negative side of a question?

Hylas In neither; for whoever understands English cannot but know that doubting signifies a suspense between both. Philonous He, then, that denieth any point can no more be said to doubt of it than he who affirmeth it with the same degree of assurance.

Hylas - True.

Philonous - And consequently, for such his denial is no more to be esteemed a skeptic than the other.

Hylas - I acknowledge it.

Philonous-How cometh it to pass, then, Hylas, that you pronounce me a skeptic because I deny what you affirm; to wit, the existence of matter? since, for aught you can tell, I am as peremptory in my denial as you are in your affirmation.

Hylas - Hold, Philonous, I have been a little out in my definition; but every false step a man makes in discourse is not to be insisted on. I said, indeed, that a skeptic was one who doubted of everything, but I should have added, or who denies the reality and truth of things.

Philonous-What things? Do you mean the principles and theorems of sciences? But these, you know, are universal intellectual notions, and consequently independent of matter; the denial, therefore, of this doth not imply the denying them.

Hylas I grant it; but are there no other things? What think you of distrusting the senses, of denying the real existence of sensible things, or pretending to know nothing of them? Is not this sufficient to denominate a man a skeptic?