GENTLEMEN, The Renewed Affection, or the Return of Love. To the Authors of the BRITISH MAGAZINE. IT is an obfervation which has been ge nerally admitted as juft, that the affections, when once alienated from an object to which they have attached themfelves, never return to it again, and that when Jove is difcontinued, it is always fucceeded by a lafting hatred or indifference. That this rule is not without exceptions, will appear from the following ftory, the truth of which I can vouch for, having been intimately acquainted with the perfons who bore the chief part in the adventure I am going to relate. A gentleman, whofe real name I shall for the prefent conceal under that of Philander, fell deeply in love with a lady of great beauty, whom give me leave to call Lavinia. Their union was oppofed by the father of Lavinia; but as love is always fertile in ftratagems, Philander found means to obtain the confent of the old man, by a contrivance which can be juftified only by the violence of his paffion. He hired perfons to attack the old gentleman upon the road, in the difguife of highwaymen, and coming to his refcue, when he was trembling for fear of immediate death, the father of Lavinia was fo tranfported with joy, that he thought he could not fufficiently exprefs his gratitude, without making Philander his fon-in-law. Philander and Lavinia were fhortly after married, and lived for fome time in a state of such perfect felicity, that they were called by all that knew them the happy couple. Lavinia thought herfelf fecure of the affection of her husband; but inconftancy is natural to man. A Venetian merchant coming to London upon account of his mercantile affairs, took a house not far from that of Philander. His daughter, who was one of the moft brilliant beauties of Italy, foon caught the eye of Philander, and his love for Lavinia began to fubfide, tho' at first he could hardly perceive it himself, and was a long time unable to affign a caufe for the diminution of his paffion. His new inclination, however, at last, entirely got the better of his conjugal affection; and he found means to procure feveral interviews with his new miftrefs, who receiv ed his addreffes in as favourable a manner as he could with. Philander, it is probable, never suspected that his new paffion would carry him the length it afterwards did; but by conftantly indulging, it grew to such a pitch, that he propofed to Cleora, for fo we hall call the merchant's daughter, to fly with her to fome foreign country, affuring her that the remainder of his life fhould be entirely devoted to her. This propofal the was as ready to accept as he was to make, and they foon found means to put their defign in execution. They chose Vienna for their place of refidence; and it was a confiderable time before Lavinia, whofe distress is not to be defcribed, could difcover the place to which her perfidious hufband had retired. However, being at laft informed of it, the refolved to go in queft of Philander, and endeavour by the moft tender expostulations to make him return to his duty. Cleora received information of Lavinia's arrival at Vienna, before it was known to her husband, and fuch was her jealous and fanguinary temper, that the immediately refolved to caufe her rival to be affaffinated. Lavinia was foon after attacked in the streets of Vienna by two Neapolitans, who had been used to the trade of cutting throats in their own country. Philander happening just then to pafs by, foon put the ruffians to flight; but how great was his furprize when he perceived that it was his once loved Lavinia, whom he had rescued from the murderous blade of the bravos! He took great care of her, and having procured her a lodging at the house of a physician in the neighbourhood, vifited her every day. He found his former paffion return at every interview, and having at last received in formation, that the affaffins were employed by Cleora, refolved to abandon her for ever, as that wicked action had excited his utmost indignation. Philander foon after returned to England with Lavinia, and for the remainder of their days, they lived in the most perfect amity. I am, Gentlemen, yours, &c. W. S. INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY of the BELLES LETTRES. CHA P. 1. MIDST the frivolous purfuits and pernicious diffipations of the préfent age, a refpect for the qualities of the understanding fill prevails to fuch a degree, that almoft every individual pretends to have a taste for the Belles Lettres. The fpruce prentice sets up for a critic, and the puny beau piques himself upon being a connoiffeur. Without affigning caufes for this univerfal prefumption, we shall proceed to observe, that if it was attended with no other inconvenience than that of expofing the pretender to the ridicule of thofe few who can fift his pretenfions, it might be unneceffary to undeceive the public, or to endeavour at the reformation of innocent folly, productive of no evil to the commonwealth. But in reality this folly is productive of manifold evils to the community. If the rep tation of tafte can be acquired without the least affiftance of literature, by reading modern poems, and feeing modern plays, what perfon will deny himself the pleasure of fuch an eafy qualification? Hence the youth of both fexes are debauched to diverfion, and feduced from much more profitable occupations, into idle endeavours after literary fame; and a fuperficial falfe tafte, founded July 1761. on ignorance and conceit, takes pof- Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte, HOR. ART. POET. Yet, even tho' nature has done her part, by implanting the feeds of tafte, great pains must be taken, and great skill exerted, in raifing them to a proper pitch of vegetation. The judicious tutor muft gradually and tenderly unfold the mental faculties of the youth committed to his charge. He must cherish his delicate perception; store his mind with proper ideas; point out the different channels of obfervation; teach him to compare objects; to establish the limits of right and wrong; of truth and falfhood; to diftinguish beauty from tinfel, and grace from affectation. In a word, to strengthen and improve by culture, experience, and instruction, those natural powers of feeling and fagacity, which conftitute the faculty called tafte, and enable the profeffor to enjoy the delights of the Belles Lettres. We cannot agree in opinion with thofe who imagine that nature has been equally favourable to all men, in conferting upon them a fundamental capacity, which may be improved to all the refinement of tafe and criticifm. Every day's experience convinces us of the con trary. Of two youths educated under the fame preceptor, instructed with the fame care, and cultivated with the fame affiduity, one shall not only comprehend, but even anticipate the leffons of his mafter, by dint of natural difcernment; while the other toils in vain to imbibe the leaft tincture of instruction. Such indeed is the diftinction between genius and ftupidity, which every man has an opportunity of feeing among his friends and acquaintance. Not that we ought too hastily to decide upon the natural capacities of children, before we have maturely confidered the peculiarity of disposition, and the biafs by which genius may be ftrangely warped from the common path of education. A youth incapable of retaining one rule of grammar, or of acquiring the leaft knowledge of the claffics, may, neverthelefs, make great progress in mathematics; nay, he may have a ftrong genius for the mathematics, without being able to comprehend a demonftration of Euclid; because his mind conceives in a peculiar manner, and is fo intent upon contemplating the object in one particular point of view, that it cannot perceive it in any other we have known an inftance of a boy, who while his mafter complained that he had not capacity to comprehend the properties of a right-angled triangle, had actually, in private, by the power of his genius, formed a mathematical fyftem of his own, difcovered a feries of curious theorems, and even applied his deductions to practical machines of furprising conftruction. Befides, in the education of youth, we ought to remember, that fome capacities are like the pyra præcocia; they foon blow, and foon attain to all that degree of maturity which they are capable of acquiring, while, on the other hand, there are geniuses of flow growth, that are late in bursting the bud and long in ripening. Yet the first shall yield a faint bloffom and infipid fruit; whereas the produce of the other fhall be diftinguished and admired for its well concocted juice and exquifite flavour. We have known a boy of five years of age furprise every body by playing on the violin, in fuch a manner as feemed to promife a prodigy in mufic. He had all the affiftance that art could afford: by the age of ten, his genius was at the axun, and after that period, notwithstanding the moft intense application, he never gave the leaft figns of improvement. At fix he was admired as a miracle of mufic: at fix and twenty, he is neglected as an ordinary fidler. The celebrated Dean Swift was a remarkable instance in the other extreme. He was long confidered as an incorrigible dunce, and did not obtain his degree at the univerfity, but ex fpeciali gratia: yet, when his powers began to unfold, he fignalized himfeif by a very remarkable fuperiority of genius. When a youth, therefore, appears dull of apprehenfion, and feems to derive no advantage from ftudy and instruction, the tutor muft exercife his fagacity in difcovering, whether the foil be abfolutely barren; or fown with feed repugnant to its nature; or of fuch a quality as requires repeated culture and length of time, to fet its juices in fermentation. Thefe obfervations, however, relate to capacity in general, which we ought carefully to distinguish from taste. Capacity implies the power of retaining what is received; tafte is the power of relishing or rejecting whatever is offered for the entertainment of the imagination. A man may have capacity to acquire what is called Learning and Philofophy; but he must have also senfibility before he feels thofe emotions with which tafte receives the impreffions of beauty. [ To be continued. ] Page 454 SIR LAUNCELOT GREAVES. СНАР. XX. gence of Aurelia. [Continued.] Mr. Thomas In which our Hero defcends into the Clarke was permitted to take up Menfions of the Danned. his habitation in the fame house, on his earnestly defiring he might be intrufted with the office of conveying information and inftruction be tween Dolly and our adventurer. The knight himself refolved to live retired until he should receive fome tidings relating to mifs Darnel, that would influence his conduct; but he propofed to frequent places of public refort incognito, that he might have fome chance of meet Y y 2 ing ing by accident with the miftrefs of his heart. Taking it for granted that the oddities of Crowe would help to amufe him in his hours of folitude and disappointment, he invited that original to be his gueft at a fmall house which he determined to hire ready furnished in the neigh bourhood of Golden-fquare. The captain thanked him for his courtefy, and frankly embraced his offer; tho' he did not much approve of the knight's choice, in point of fituation. He faid he would recommend him to a special good upper-deck hard by St. Catherine's in Wapping, where he would be delighted with the profpect of the ftreet forwards, well frequented by paffengers, carts, drays, and other carriages; and haying backwards, an agreeable view of alderman Parfons' great brewhoufe, with two hundred hogs feeding almoft under the window. As a further inducement, he mentioned the vicinity of the Tower guns, which would regale his hearing on days of falutation: nor did he forget the fweet found of mooring and unmooring fhips in the river, and the pleafing objects on the other fide of the Thames, difplayed in the oozy docks and cabbage-gardens of Rotherhithe. Sir Launcelot was not infenfible to the beauties of this landfchape; but, his purfuit lying another way, he contented himself with a lefs enchanting fituation, and Crowe accompanied him out of pure friendship. At night Mr. Clarke arrived at our hero's houfe with tidings that were by no means agreeable. He told him that Clump had left a letter for Dolly, informing her that his mafter 'fquire Darnel was to fet out early in the morning for Yorkshire; but he could give no account of her lady, who had, the day before, been convey'd, he knew not whither, in a hack. ney-coach, attended by his uncle and an ill-looking fellow who had much the appearance of a bailiff or turn-key; fo that he feared the was in trouble. Sir Launcelot was deeply af fected by this intimation. His apprehenfion was even roufed by a fufpicion that a man of Darnel's violent temper, and unprincipled heart, might have practifed upon the life of his lovely niece: but, upon recollection, he could not fuppofe that he had recourfe to fuch infamous expedients, knowing, as he did, that an account of her would be demanded at his hands, and that it would be eafily proved he had conveyed her from the lodging in which the refided. His first fears now gave way to another fuggeftion, that Anthony, in order to intimidate her into a compliance with his proposals, had trumped up a fpurious claim against her, and by virtue of a writ confined her in fome prison or fpunging-house. Poffeffed with this idea, he defired Mr. Clarke to fearch the theriff's office in the morning, that he might know whether any fuch writ had been granted; and he himself refolved to make a tour of the great prifons belonging to the metropolis, to enquire if perchance fhe might not be confined under a borrowed name. Finally, he determined, if poflible, to apprife her of his place of abode by a paragraph in all the daily papers, fignifying that Sir Launcelot Greaves had arrived at his houfe by Golden-fquare. All these refolutions were pun&ually executed. No fuch writ had been taken out in the sheriff's office; and |