"freeholder of less than one hundred a year is for"bidden to kill a partridge on his own estate, yet "nobody else (not even the lord of the manor, “unless he hath a grant of free warren) can do it, "without committing a trespass, and subjecting "himself to an action."

NO. CXXII. ON THE IMPORTANCE OF GOVERNING THE TEMPER.

NOTWITHSTANDING the many complaints of the calamities of human life, it is certain, that more constant uneasiness arises from ill temper than from ill fortune. In vain has Providence be stowed every external blessing, if care has not been taken by ourselves to smooth the asperities of the temper. Bad temper, embitters every sweet, and converts a paradise into a place of torment.

The government of the temper then, on which the happiness of the human race so greatly depends, can never be too frequently or too forcibly recommended. But as it was found by some of the ancients, one of the most efficacious methods of deterring young persons from any disagreeable or vicious conduct, to point out a living character in which it appeared in all its deformity, I shall exhibit a picture, in which I hope a bad temper will appear, as it really is, a most unamiable object.

It is by no means uncommon to observe those, who have been flattered for superficial qualities at a very early age, and engaged in so constant a series of dissipating pleasure, as to leave no time.

for the culture of the mind, becoming, in the middle and advanced periods of life, melancholy instances of the miserable effects resulting from an ungoverned temper. A certain lady, whom I shall distinguish by the name of Hispulla, was celebrated from her infancy for a fine complexion. She had, indeed, no very amiable expression in her eyes, but the vermilion of her cheeks did not fail to attract admiration, and she was convinced by her glass, and by the asseverations of the young men, that she was another and a fairer Helen. She had every opportunity of improving her mind; but as we naturally bestow our first care on the quality which we most value, she could never give her attention either to books or oral instruction, and at the age of fifteen or sixteen could scarcely write her name legibly, or read a sentence without hesitation. Her personal charms were, however, powerful enough to captivate the heart of a thoughtless heir, very little older than herself. Her vanity, rather than her love, was gratified by the alliance; and when the assiduities of promiscuous suitors were at an end, she found herself sinking in the dead calm of insipidity. When love was no more, other passions sprung up with all the luxuriancy of rank weeds, in a soil where no salutary herb has been planted in the vernal season. Pride, that fruitful plant, which bears every kind of odious quality in abundance, took root in the heart, and flourished like the nettle or the hemlock on the banks of the stagnant pool.

Her husband was the first to feel its baneful effects. Though the match was greatly to her ad

vantage, she persuaded herself that she might have done better; and that her good fortune was by no means adequate to the prize which her beauty and merit might have justly claimed. With this conviction, and without any habits or abilities which might lead her to seek amusement in books, she found no diversion so congenial to her heart, as the tormenting a good-natured, young, and agreeable husband, who, by marrying, had excluded her from the probability of a title. As a small compensation for the injury received, she assumed an absolute dominion over him, his fortune, and his family. He dares not differ in opinion from her; for on the slightest opposition, her eyes dart fire, her cheeks glow with indignation, and her tongue utters every bitter word which rage and malice can dictate. The comfort of every meal is poisoned by a quarrel; and an angry vociferation is re-echoed from the parlour to the kitchen, from the cellar to the garret, by night and by day, except in the awful and ominous pause of a sullen silence.

The poor husband, who, with every amiable disposition, possessed also the virtue of patience, bore the evil as long as human nature could bear it; but as years advanced, and her fury increased, he sought a refuge at the tavern, and in the composing juice of the grape. Excess and vexation soon laid him in the only secure asylum from the stings and arrows of an outrageous temper, the silent tomb.

The children, after suffering every species of persecution which an angry, though foolishly fond mother could inflict, no sooner arrived at maturity, than they began to look for happiness in an escape from

home, where neither peace nor ease could find a place. The daughters married meanly, unworthily, and wretchedly, contented to take refuge from the rage of a furious mother in the arms of footmen and hair-dressers; the sons ran away, and became vagrant and wretched debauchees; till in mere despair, one of them entered as a soldier in the East India service, and the other put an end to his own existence.

The mother, after shedding a few natural tears, and wiping them soon, began to feel her pride and passion amply gratified in an absolute dominion over an estate, a mansion-house, and a tribe of servants, whose dependant situation made them bear her fury. with little resistance. But she enjoyed her reign. but a short time; for as her mind was incapable of resting on itself for support, she sought relief from the bottle of cordial; and, heated one day with a large draught, and a violent passion with one of the maids, she burst a blood-vessel, and expired in a scolding fit, her tongue still quivering after her heart had ceased its pulsation.

I believe the originals of such a picture as this, are much less common in the present age, than they were in the last century. Ladies were then seclud ed from the world till marriage, and as they were very superficially educated in every thing but potting and preserving, it is no wonder if they became termagants, shrews, or viragos. They had no right ideas of themselves or the world around them, and yielded, without opposition, to those violent emotions, which arise perhaps in every mind when it is. totally uncultivated.

Culture of the understanding is, indeed, one of the best methods of subduing the heart to softness, and redeeming it from that savage state in which it too often comes from the hands of nature. The more our reason is strengthened, the better she is enabled to keep her seat on the throne, and to go. vern those passions which were appointed to be her subjects; but which too often rebel, and succeed in their unnatural revolt. But besides the effect of mental culture, in calling forth and increasing the powers of the reasoning faculty, it seems to possess an influence in humanizing the feelings, and meliorating the native disposition. Music, painting, and poetry, teach the mind to select the agreeable parts of those objects which surround us, and by habituating it to a pure and permanent delight, gradually superinduce an habitual good-humour. It is of infinite importance to happiness, that the mind should be accustomed from infancy to turn from deformed and painful scenes, and to contemplate whatever can be found of moral and natural beauty. The spirits, under this benign management, contract a milkiness, and learn to flow all cheerily in their smooth and yielding channels; while, on the contrary, if the young mind is teased, fretted, and neglected, the passages of the spirits become rugged, abrupt, exasperated, and the whole nervous system seems to acquire an excessive irritability. The ill-treatment of children has not only made them wretched at the time, but wretched for life; tearing the fine contexture of their nerves, and roughening, by ex