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is to be received, is too light, or too dark, or fur. nished with something which she cannot see without aversion. Her tea is never of the right sort;. the figures on the China give her disgust. Where there are children, she hates the gabble of brats; where there are none, she cannot bear a place without some cheerfulness and rattle. If many servants are kept in a house, she never fails to tell how lord Lavish was ruined by a numerous retinue; if few, she relates the story of a miser that made his com. pany wait on themselves. She quarrelled with one family, because she had an unpleasant view from their windows; with another, because the squirrel Jeaped within two yards of her; and with a third, because she could not bear the noise of the parrot. Of milliners and mantua-makers she is the
proverbial torment. She compels them to alter their work, then to unmake it, and contrive it after an. other fashion; then changes her mind, and likes it better as it was at first; then will have a small im. provement. Thus she proceeds till no profit can recompense the vexation; they at last leave the clothes at her house, and refuse to serve her. Her maid, the only being that can endure her tyranny, professes to take her own course, and hear her mistress talk. Such is the consequence of peevishness; it can be borne only when it is despised.
It sometimes happens that too close an atten. tion to minute exactness, or a too rigorous habit of examining every thing by the standard of perfection, vitiates the temper, rather than improves the understanding, and teaches the mind to discern faults with unhappy penetration. It is incident likewise to men of vigorous imagination to please themselves too much with futurities, and to fret ber cause those expectations are disappointed, which should never have been formed. Knowledge and genius are often enemies to quiet, by suggesting ideas of excellence, which men and the performances of men cannot attain. But let no man rashly determine, that his unwillingness to be pleased is a proof of understanding, unless his superiority appears from less doubtful evidence; for though peevishness may sometimes justly boast its descent from learning or from wit, it is much oftener of base extraction, the child of vanity, and nursling of ignorance,
N° 75TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1750.
Diligitur nemo, nisi cui Fortuna secunda est,
TO THE RAMBLER. SIR, Tue diligence with which you endeavour to cultisate the knowledge of nature, manners, and life, will perhaps incline you to pay some regard to the observations of one who has been taught to know mankind by unwelcome information, and whose opinions are the result, not of solitary conjectures, but of practice and experience.
* Anna Williams, of whom an account is given in the Life of Dr. Johnson, prefixed to this edition, c.
I was born to a large fortune, and bred to the knowledge of those arts which are supposed to accomplish the mind, and adorn the person of a woman. To these attainments, which custom and edu. cation almost forced upon me, I added some voluntary acquisitions by the use of books, and the conTersation of that species of men whom the ladies generally mention with terrour and aversion under the name of scholars, but whom I have found a ha: 'mless and inoifensive order of beings, not so much wiser than ourselves, but that they may receive as well as communicate knowledge, and more inclined to degrade their own character by coward. ly submission, than to overbear or oppress us with their learning or their wit.
From these men, however, if they are by kind treatment encouraged to talk, something may be gained, which, embellished with elegancy, and sof. tened by modesty, will always add dignity and va. lue to female conversation; and from my acquaintance with the bookish part of the world I derived many principles of judgment and maxims of pru. dence, by which I was enabled to draw upon myself
the general regard in every place of concourse or | pleasure. My opinion was the great rule of appro
bation, my remarks were remembered by those who desired the second degree of fame, my mien was studied, my dress was imitated, my letters were handed from one family to another, and read by those who copied them as sent to themselves; my visits were solicited as honours, and multitudes boasted of an intimacy with Melissa, who had only seen me by accident, and whose familiarity had never proceeded beyond the exchange of a compliment, or return of a courtesy...
I shall make no scruple of confessing that I was pleased with this universal veneration, because I always considered it as paid to my intrinsick quali. ties and inseparable merit, and very easily persuaded myself that fortune had no part in my superiori. ty. When I looked upon my glass, I saw youth and beauty, with health that might give me reason to hope their continuance; when I examined my mind, I found some strength of judgment, and fertility of fancy; and was told that every action was grace, and that every accent was persuasion.
In this manner my life passed like a continual triumph amidst acclamations, and envy, and courtship, and caresses: to please Melissa was the general ambition, and every stratagem of artful flattery was practised upon me.
To be flattered is grateful, even when we know that our praises are not believed by those who pronounce them; for they provc, at Icast, our power, and show that our favour is valued, since it is purchased by the mean. ness of falsehood. But, perhaps, the fatterer is not oiten detected, for an honest mind is not apt to suspect, and no one exerts the power of discernment with much vigour when self-love favouis the deceit.
The number of adorers, and the perpetual distraction of my thoughts by new schemes of pleasure, prevented me from listening to any of those who crowd in multitudes to give girls advice, and kept me unmarried and unengaged to my twentyseventh year, when, as I was towering in all the pride of uncontested excellency, with a face yet little impaired, and a mind hourly improving, the failure of a fund, in which my money was placed, reduced me to a frugal competency, which allowed Little beyond neatness and independence.
I bore the diminution of my riches without any
outrages of sorrow, or pusillanimity of dejection. Indeed I did not know how much I had lost, for, having always heard and thought more of my wit and beauty, than of my fortune, it did not suddenly enter my imagination, that Melissa could sink beneath her established rank, while her form and her mind continued the same; that she could cease to raise adıniration but by ceasing to deserve it, or feel any stroke but from the hand of time.
It was in my power to have concealed the loss, and to have married, by continuing the same appearance, with all the credit of my original fortune; but I was not so far sunk in my own esteem, as to submit to the baseness of fraud, or to desire any other recommendation than sense and virtue. I therefore dismissed my equipage, sold those orna. ments which were become unsuitable to my new condition, and appeared among those with whom I used to converse with less glitter, but with equal spirit.
I found myself received at every visit, with sorrow beyond what is naturally felt for calamities in which we have no part, and was entertained with condolence and consolation so frequently repeated, that my friends plainly consulted rather their own gratification, than my relief. Some from that time refused my acquaintance, and forbore, without any provocation, to repay my visits; some visited me, but after a longer interval than usual, and every return was still with more delay ; nor did any of my female acquaintances fail to introduce the mention of my misfortunes, to compare my present and former condition, to tell me how much it must trouble me to want the splendour which I became so well, to look at pleasures which I had formerly enjoyed, and to sink to a level with those by whom