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letter. On breaking open the feal, fhe difcovered the fignature of Platagenet : eagerly perufing it, fhe found it contained these words:
"The charm is now diffolved, and I am reftored to my fenfes. I have cheated myself with an illufion, which has deftroyed me. A heart formed of colder materials than that of the unhappy Platagenet, might have beheld you with the coldness of Platonic efteem; but it was vain to hope it from mine. The one queftion that I asked myfelf has undeceived me-has awakened me from a fweet dilirium, into which the fyren sweetness of your charms had lulled me. You efteem me, but it may be fated that your heart fhall throb with love for fome luckier youth.-Ah, Miranda! think with a figh on the paffions which now whirl my brain to phrenzy; at prefent, thy gentle nature can conceive none of its fury.-Adieu I fly you for your repofe. I yet retain enough of purity in my defires, to prefer your happiness to that of the wretchESSEX PLANTAGENET." Miranda, with a voice that faultered with her attempts to check the thickening fobs, eagerly inquired of the fer vant, if Plantagenet was at Hundfon: he answered that he had left it before day-break, after wandering all night through the foreft. Miranda haftily fled towards the abbey, and flinging herself down upon one of the tombs, gave vent to the feelings which fhe had fo long reftrained. Ah, Effex? (cried the) are you then unhappy, and I the caufe?— Would to heaven the dear delufion had for ever continued! Miranda and Plan tagenet had then been bleft!-Does he think my heart fated to throb for another!-Oh! no, no, it can never feel greater agonies than now.". A glimmering of truth fhot across her mind. "And do I love too?" exclaimed fhe, in wild amaze.- "Is it poffible that I alfo have been deceived?If it is to prize the happiness of another more than your own-to doat on every accent that his lips utter to think, to
talk, to wish for nothing else than him -I love certain I do.-Could I be content and be united to another ?-Could I be unhappy and his wife? No; we both love, and with an ardous unfpeakable !"-From that inftant, the delivered herself up to the most passionate warmth.
The cloifter, where for fo many nights they had tafted the purest pleafure, was now idolized with fervid adoration: the huge cliff, where the had taken her laft view of him, became an object no lefs adored: fhe would carve his name in its chalky bofom, and weep over it when it was finished. Love, cherished by folitude and memory, burnt up her foul: fhe pined for the return of Plantagenet, a return for which she dar ed hardly hope.
While her mind was in this pertur bed ftate, a Captain William Bentick arrived at Hundfon Caftle. He was a man of an exalted mind; a heart full of fenfibility; and an appearance peculiarly pleafing. The foftnefs of his manners bore fo ftrong a refemblance to Plantagenet, that Miranda's heart, bending down with the weight of forrow that oppreffed it, clung to him with a more than common regard. She found in Bentinck all the foul fhe wished for in a friend. She fighed to herfelf, and thought, as fhe gazed upon him—“ I will not deceive myfelf again-I have a pure, a Platonic regard for William Bentinck."-Miranda herself was too gentle, too lovely, too interefting a cha racter, to pass unnoticed by one of the young officer's fentimental mind: he fought every opportunity of cultivating a friendship, which, with her, he would confider as the sweetest pleasure upon earth.
His delicate attentions, his brotherly affection, and often hinted wishes, at length won fo far upon the foul of Miranda, that fhe accepted him as a friend
her heart had long before nominated her his. From that hour he attached himself principally to her, and continu ally accompanied her in her rambles. (To be continued.)
DESCRIPTION OF THE TURKISH LADIES;
OF THE WELSH LADIES.
THE women in their perfons are rather engaging than handfome. It has been remarked, that they were pretty in infanc, but changed for the worse as they grev up yet they retain for ever the fine percing eye, and many, to the 'aft, poffe's their exquifite features, tho' 1 their complexion. They do not wear ftas, and are at little pains to preferve heir fhape. In general, they are low a ftature, and fuch as are tall, for the toft part ftoop. The women of condtion affect a stately gait, but walk inlegantly, and the carriage of their boy is devoid of that ease, and air, to vich an European eye has been accuftored. The dress in which they appear aroad, is not calculated to set off the prfon; the veil fhows their shape to difadantage, the legs are awkwardly concaled by the boots, and even without hem, their movement is not fo elegant eafy as that of their arms: which may be the reafon that they ap. pear tonoft advantage when fitting on the Div.
We shall contraft this defcription, with the account, given by Mrs Morgan in her Tour through Wales, lately pu blished, of the
The ranfient manner in which the Turkishwomen can only be feen by a ftranger renders it difficult, if not impoffibic, to speak decidedly of their beauty, a comparifon with that of the women other countries, who are feen with me familiarity. Their dress and veil, whh are fo difadvantageous to their fhae, may, perhaps, (the latter particulay) be of advantage to their looks. have had occafion to fee great numbers and thought them, in general, handfom than the Chriftian, and Jewish, ladies; it I was fometimes inclined to doubt whether that opinion might not, in the degree, be afcribed to fee, ing thempartially, or when revealed in fuch a moner, as to give relief to their beauty it is certain, that many whofe faces I d at first thought exquifitely fine, from under a loofe veil, loft confiderably hen more exposed.
Fron Ruel's Hiflory of Aleppo.
THE women, in general, have exceeding good natural understandings, but they feem to be too well contented with the consciousness of that, for they are not follicitous to cultivate them, as
highly as they are capable. They love gaiety and parties of all forts, where chearfulness and freedom, banish reftraint and formality; and their countenance is fo easy and happy, that it feems to preclude all care.
In this defcription I do not include all the ladies of Wales; but only to say, these seem to be the leading features of their natural character. I converfed with many who had not the fmalleft dialect; and who, to their native good humour and sweetness, added polite manners, and an informed underftanding. The most perfect innocence, and chearfulness, are visibly depicted in their whole deportment; and this gives fuch a youthfulness to their look and manner, that you may very well miftake a woman who is near thirty to be no more than eighteen. They are very pretty, have delicate complexions, and very fine teeth, and are well made; but their fhape has fomething of the Dutch roundness and plumpnefs in it. The men are remarkably handfome, and, in proportion to their number, I never faw fo many any where. They, as well as the women," doft the world afide, and bid it pafs;" indeed, I fear, they have too much of this natural carelessnefs of difpofition in them; for, in general, the Weifh gentlemen live up to the top of their fortunes, and very many far beyond them. The ftrongest trait in the Welsh difpofition is, the most unaffected good humour; and this it is which makes them unable to withstand any temptation that comes in the form of fociability:
Dance and fing, time's on the wing: Life never knows the return of fpring : is a maxim they practife with all their heart and foul by this means they certainly prolong "the fpring," but it is fometimes followed by a long and dreary winter.
They entertain not only hofpitably but elegantly; and nothing can be fo abfurd in the English, as to fancy that they differ from us materially, either in their tables, their houfes, or their drefs.
They want nothing but the last finish, that is, a high polish to be put upon their manners, and a greater defire for the attainments of the head; for, in thofe of the heart, no nation can exceed them, But if they cannot be faid to le arrived at the higheft pitch of literary refinement, every one allows them to be generous, and hofpitable, and neir style and manner perfectly exprefs thofe ineftimable qualities.
From Mrs Morgan's Tour to Milford Haven.
ON CHARACTERS, OR ODDITIES. THE writing of characters was a kind of wit much in fashion, in the beginning of the laft century. The two principal authors in this way were Sir Thomas Overbury, and Dr John Earle, tutor to Prince Charles in 1643, and, after the Restoration, Dean of Weftminfter, and fucceffively Bishop of Worcefter and Salisbury. How agreeable thefe fort of effays were to the public taste, may be judged from Sir Thomas' little book having paffed through fourteen editions before 1632, and the Bifhop's fix between 1628 and 1633. Butler's name is alfo to be added to thefe. His characters abound in wit. But the origin of character writing, I need fcarcely mention, is to be traced to Theophraftus, who was a scholar of Ariftotle's, and wrote in the hundred and fifteenth Olympiad, that is, above three hundred years before the Chriftian æra. His characters juftify the opinion Sir Richard Steele gives of him: "that his ftrokes are always fine and exquifite, and though they are not fometimes violent enough to affect the imagination of a coarfe reader, cannot but give the highest pleasure to every man of a refined tafte, who has a thorough infight into human nature.",
When the writers of the English periodical publications commenced their labours, they brought forward a great fund of information on human life and manners, and particularly enlivened their with characters and oddities. Sometimes, it is certain, they had ori
ginals before them; but at other times, it may be believed, they drew rom fancy. Succeeding writers have imitated them with great felicity. All thofe drawn by Dr Johnfon in the Rambler and Idler, are excellent, and many of thofe in the World and Connoffeur are deferving of equal praife. Ths fpecies of wit, however, has been fonetimes mistaken for portrait-painting, ad when a character has appeared, it as been understood to be the full likeness of fome individual; while others equally miftaking the matter, have cademned all fuch characters, as being pnatural and grofsly improbable. Was there ever, fay they, fuch a man as that defcribed by Theophraftus as Th Diffembler or the Sloven? But the fat is, that thefe characters are intended nt as biographical fketches, but as charateristics; or, to fpeak more properly, as the cha racter of a certain paffion, or foy, drawn out at its full length, and ich as it would be in reality, if there wre no reftraints from the wisdom of te individual or the laws of custom.
The characters, in fome rfpect, approach to dramatic rules, whch permit that an individual be drawnwith only one fet of characteristics; or ather, the characters of a play are these:haracters of Overbury, Steele, Addifo, &c. perfonified, and by their peculirities, intermixing and working upo one another, the effect of comedy farce is produced. In the drama, vth a view to produce this effect, a god man is
drawn as perfectly good, and a villain, as having no traces of goodness; neither of which we know to be natural, but are here neceffary to form the fable, and create the proper interest which the moral is to ferve. The fame extravagance, therefore, which the drama allows, is alfo to be allowed to thofe authors, who have occafionally varied and illuftrated their subjects by exhibiting characters or oddities. Some of your readers may recollect, that dramatic writers owe great obligations to the periodical writers. The character of Quidnunc, in the very entertaining farce of the Upholsterer, by Mr Murphy, is taken from paper in the Tatler, and the extravaganza (for fuch, I truft, it is) of Inkle and Yarico, has been made the ground-work of a very popular and fuccefsful opera.
One of Theophraftus' characters (for I confider him as the father of this fpecies of wating) may serve to illuftrate the fubjet.
"Dimulation," fays he, "is the art of fpeking and acting in difguife, to bring about fome felfifh defign. The diffembletvifits his enemy, as if he were fo far froh hating him, that he took a particular pleasure in his converfation. He praif and careffes those whom he undermines, and is outwardly inconfolable for heir misfortunes, while he rejoices at hem in his heart. If you fpeak ill him, he is fo meek as to forgive you. If you utter the most bitter inveces against him, he thanks you for telling him his faults. After having done a man an injury, he redoubles his profefions of friendship, and sweetens him out of his refentments. If you go to hin upon any affair, which he knows cannot poffibly be deferred, he befeeches you to call upon him another time. He is myfterious in all his proceedings, and, to hear him talk, a man would faney he spent his whole life in deliberating, without ever coming to a refolution. He has an under-meaning in the most indifferent things he fays. He does not fo nuch as tell you, he is juft returned from the country, that it was
dark before he came to town, or that his head ached upon the road; without having a defign upon you. When you would borrow of him, he never was so bare of money in his life; but, when he is really out of cafh, talks of nothing but the fullness of his coffers. After having liftened very attentively to all the circumftances of an affair, he begs your pardon for not having minded what you were talking about. He fixes his eye upon a perfon for an hour together, and immediately after never faw him. His memory is fo very treacherous, that he forgets every thing he has articled with you, which is not to his advantage. He has one fhort answer, which ferves him upon all occafions, "He will confider of it." He cannot poffibly comprehend an affair, which a little time before he himfelf explained to you. His anfwers are very artificial, and covered under a feeming furprize. It is impoffible! fays he, you amaze me! I am aftonished! He is so startled at what you tell him, that "fure he is not himfelf!" After a fhort paufe, his wonder rifes upon him. "Why," fays he," he told me quite another story. This is all a riddle. You can never be in earneft. I do not know how to difbelieve you, and yet I would not willingly think fo ill of him." Take great care that you are not misled by fuch broken hints, double expreffions, and cunning exaggerations. The poiton of a viper is not more infinuating, or more pernicious."
Thus far Theophraftus. Now it is probable, fome will fay, that this is a monftrous caricatura, inftead of a portrait. No human being was ever poffeffed of fuch a diabolical difpofition. That it is a caricatura, I deny, because it is not meant for a portrait; but I will grant, and I hope it is true, that no human being ever was fo depraved. But then, it is not one human being we contemplate here, it is the progrefs of diffimulation in the human mind; it is the picture of the vice. We cannot find all the lines in any one man, which go to form this picture, but furely we may find
find them all in a number of men, and it was from obferving the workings and effects of diffimulation in a number of men, that Theophrastus drew this picture of the vice itself.
true, but it would be harsh to impute to him the whole of the character as defcribed by our author.
We might go on to diftinguifh the other individuals, who compofe the remainder of this character, as a purfeproud upftart, or a hypocrite of candour, a lover of backbiting, and overs; but thefe will fpeak for themfelves, and it would take up too much roon to particularize them. In this mamer, however, we fee, that although no one man may completely anfwer the defcription given by Theophraftus, yet i number, and that not a very great number, may foon do fo. The greateft diffemblers do not always deceive, and the most fincere men are not equally fincere at all times. These remarks might be extended to most, if not all, the charac ters of this author, and of the other writers who have conveyed leffons of morality by the fame vehicle.
There are two advantages attending this mode of writing: The ore is, that by drawing the character of the paffion, and not of the individual, it vill serve for inftruction at all times, ad in all generations. Were Theophriftus now living, I queftion if the experience of modern times would enable him to improve upon what he has done. The fecond and greatest advantag, is, that we may learn from these charaters, how very fhocking and unmanly certain vices are, if we do not correct ther first appearance, but heedlessly go n in following that which is cuftomay, without confidering whether it be good or evil. Principiis obfta ought be our maxim; for he who has leared to indulge a little in diffimulation, cannot fay where he fhall stop, and probably will not stop, before that which was only a fimple vice becomes an habitual practice. G.
It may be curious to fpeculate a little upon this fubject. We fhall take for granted, that no one man is fuch an adept in diffimulation, as to anfwer the whole of this defcription. Let us fee, then, how many will be neceffary to make up the compofition. Let us fuppose candidate at an election, who is not over nice in the means by which to fecure his votes. The firft four or five fentences of the above character will fuit him exactly. What is there described is exactly what every man must practice, who is regardless of any means that may accomplish fo defirable an end. If to this man we join a profeffed courtier, I imagine we fhall proceed more than half down the character, and find the refemblance very perfect. Let us only think what Lord Chesterfield was, and the scene which George Bab Doddington has described. But, that candidates and courtiers may not run away with all the merit of diflimulation, let us ftep behind the counter, and whisper to Mr Traffic, the grocer, a few words in his ear. "When you would borrow of him, he never was fo bare of cash; but, when really out of cash, talks of nothing but the fullness of his coffers." Now, of this laft character, I may obferve, that perhaps this is the only inftance of diffimulation he practices, and that in every other duty of life, he is a fincere and upright man; but the cuftom of trade, he thinks, entitles him to fay that he is bare of cash, in order to preferve his money, and to talk of the fullnefs of his coffers, in order to preferve his credit. He is a diffembler, it is
CHARACTERS OF SOME WRITERS DURING THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE, COMPARED WITH THE PRESENT. WHEN we confider Swift as an but we are to confider allo, that no author, it is fair to estimate his powers by their effects, and in his political pieces, they appear to have been great:
fmall part of their efficacy was fupplied