their usual vociferation; and every term of scurrilous reproach was most probably vented on that occasion.

If we had descended to the next order of spectators, we should have found an equal degree of abhorrence, though less of noise and scurrility; yet here the good women gave Black George to the devil, and many of them expected every minute that the cloven-footed gentleman would fetch his own.

The pit, as usual, was no doubt divided: those who delight in heroic virtue and perfect character, objected to the producing such instances of villany, without punishing them very severely for the sake of example. Some of the author's friends cried-" Look'e, gentlemen, the man is a villain; but it is nature for all that." And all the young critics of the age, the clerks, apprentices, &c. called it low, and fell a groaning.

As for the boxes, they behaved with their accustomed politeness. Most of them were attending to something else. Some of those few who regarded the scene at all, declared he was a bad kind of man; while others refused to give their opinion, till they had heard that of the best judges.

Now we, who are admitted behind the scenes of this great theatre of nature (and no author ought to write any thing besides dictionaries and spelling books, who hath not this privilege) can censure the action, without conceiving any absolute detestation of the person, whom perhaps Nature may not have designed to act an ill part in all her. dramas: for in this instance, life most exactly re

sembles the stage, since it is often the same person who represents the villain and the hero; and he who engages your admiration to-day, will probably attract your contempt to-morrow. As Garrick, whom I regard in tragedy to be the greatest genius the world hath ever produced, sometimes condescends to play the fool; so did Scipio the great and Lælius the wise, according to Horace, many years ago; nay, Cicero reports them to have been " incredibly childish ” -These, it is true, played the fool, like my friend Garrick, in jest only; but several eminent characters have, in numberless instances of their lives, played the fool egregiously in earnest; so far as to render it a matter of some doubt, whether their wisdom or folly was predominant; or whether they were better intitled to the applause or censure, the admiration or contempt, the love or hatred of mankind.

Those persons, indeed, who have passed any time behind the scenes of this great theatre, and are thoroughly acquainted not only with the several disguises which are there put on, but also with the fantastic and capricious behaviour of the passions, who are the managers and directors of this theatre, (for as to Reason the patentee, he is known to be a very idle fellow, and seldom to exert himself) may most probably have learned to understand the famous Nil admirari of Horace, or in the English phrase, "To stare at nothing.'

A single bad act no more constitutes a villain in life, than a single bad part on the stage. The passions, like the managers of a playhouse, often force men upon parts, without consulting their

judgment, and sometimes without any regard to their talents. Thus the man, as well as the player, may condemn what he himself acts; nay, it is common to see vice sit as awkwardly on some men, as the character of Iago would on the honest face of Mr. William Mills.

Upon the whole, then, the man of candour and of true understanding is never hasty to condemn. He can censure an imperfection, or even a vice, without rage against the guilty party. In a word, they are the same folly, the same childishness, the same ill-breeding, and the same ill-nature, which raise all the clamours and uproars both in life and on the stage. The worst of men generally have the words rogue and villain most in, their mouths, as the lowest of all wretches are the aptest to cry out low in the pit,

CHAP. II.

Containing a conversation which Mr. Jones had with himself.

JONES received his effects from Mr. Allworthy's early in the morning, with the following answer to his letter:

66 SIR,

"I am commanded by my uncle to acquaint you, that as he did not proceed to those measures he had taken with you, without the greatest deliberation, and after the fullest evidence of your unworthiness, so will it be always out of your power to cause the least alteration in his resolution. He expresses great surprize at your presumption in saying, you have resigned all pretensions to a young lady, to whom it is

impossible you should ever have had any, her birth and fortune having made her so infinitely your superior. Lastly, I am commanded to tell you, that the only instance of your compliance with my uncle's inclinations, which he requires, is, your immediately quitting this country. I cannot conclude this, without offering you my advice as a Christian, that you would seriously think of amending your life: that you may be assisted with grace so to do, will be always the prayer of

Your humble servant,

W. BLIFIL."

Many contending passions were raised in our hero's mind by this letter; but the tender prevailed at last over the indignant and irascible, and a flood of tears came seasonably to his assistance, and possibly prevented his misfortunes from either turning his head, or bursting his heart.

He grew, however, soon ashamed of indulging this remedy; and starting up, he cried, "Well, then, I will give Mr. Allworthy the only instance he requires of my obedience. I will go this moment-but whither?--why let Fortune direct; since there is no other who thinks it of any con、 sequence what becomes of this wretched person, it shall be a matter of equal indifference to myself. Shall I alone regard what no other? -Ha! have I not reason to think there is another?-One whose value is above that of the whole world!I may, I must imagine my Sophia is not indifferent to what becomes of me. Shall I then leave this only friend-And such a friend? Shall I not stay with her? Where? How can I stay with her? Have I any hopes of ever seeing her, though she was as desirous as myself, without exposing her to the wrath of her father? And to what purpose? Can I think of soliciting such a creature to consent to

her own ruin? Shall I indulge any passion of mine at such a price?-Shall I lurk about this country like a thief, with such intentions?—No, I disdain, I detest the thought. Farewel, Sophia; farewel, most lovely, most beloved-". Here passion stopped his mouth, and found a vent at his eyes.

And now, having taken a resolution to leave the country, he began to debate with himself whither he should go. The world, as Milton phrases it, lay all before him; and Jones, no more than Adam, had any man to whom he might resort for comfort or assistance. All his acquaintance were the acquaintance of Mr. Allworthy, and he had no reason to expect any countenance from them, as that gentleman had withdrawn his favour from him. Men of great and good characters should indeed be very cautious how they discard their dependents; for the consequence to the unhappy sufferer is being discarded by all others.

What course of life to pursue, or to what business to apply himself, was a second consideration; and here the prospect was all a melancholy void. Every profession, and every trade, required length of time, and what was worse, money; for matters are so constituted, that " nothing out of nothing" is not a truer maxim in physics than in politics; and every man who is greatly destitute of money, is on that account entirely excluded from all means of acquiring it.

At last the ocean, that hospitable friend to the wretched, opened her capacious arms to receive him; and he instantly resolved to accept her kind invitation. To express myself less figuratively, he determined to go to sea.