University of Virginia Library

6. BOOK VI.

1. CHAP. I.

MEANING to remain some time
in a certain town to which he came,
the Captain had his horse put out to pasture,
and took private lodgings. The first
day at dinner, he was struck with the appearance
of a young man who sat at table,
but could not be said to dine with them;
for except a little water, and a bit of bread,
he ate or drank nothing; and though sometimes
addressed, he made no answer.
There was a settled melancholy in his countenance,
and he often sighed deeply. He
had been in this house six weeks, and had
behaved uniformly in the same manner.
In the evening he would walk by himself
till midnight. Whence he came, or what

was his object, no one knew. He had
bespoke a back room, and wished to have
one where there was but little light; also,
that a little water, and a bit of bread might
be sent when he should require it. The
landlady not chusing to have a person in
the house who was unwilling to be seen,
declined the circumstance of sending in
provisions to his room; but thought it
proper he should come to table. He did
so; but entered into no conversation, tho'
much pains was taken to engage him. He
had paid his boarding regularly, and did
not seem to be in want of money. This
was the account given by the family, when
the young man retired from dinner.

The Captain's curiosity was much excited;
for being a philanthropic man, he
found himself interested in the history of
this person. Taking an opportunity that very
evening, when the young man was walking
in the back porch, he joined him, and
with the bluntness of a plain man, insisted
to converse with him. Sir, said he, it is
from no motive of vain curiosity, that I
thus solicit. It is from a disposition to
know and alleviate your griefs. For it is
evident to me that something hangs heavy
on your mind. I am a man, as you

see, advanced in life, and have had some
experience. It is possible it might be in
my power to say or do something that
might serve you; at least, it is my disposition
to soothe your melancholy. If it
should be an unfortunate murder, the
guilt of which lies upon your mind, you
will find no accuser in me; I shall preserve
a secret obtained in this manner. Probably
it might have been a duel, and with
such alleviating circumstances, that though
the law would take hold of it, humanity
will excuse.

The young man finding the charge of
murder, or suspicion of it, ready to be
fixed upon him, spoke. Said he, I am no
murderer, but a murdered man myself. I
am in love with a young woman of the
most celestial beauty, but of a cruel heart.

The beauty may be more in your brain
than in her face, said the Captain; for,
as the poet says, `There are three, the
`children of imagination, the madman,
`the lover, and the poet. The madman
`sees more devils than vast hell can hold;
`the lover, all as frantic, sees Helen's beau
`ty in a brow of Egypt.' I am not unacquainted
with the nature of this passion;
and have seen a gypsey myself, in my time,

that have had dominion over me. Perhaps
I may have been carried to as much extravagance
as other people; and therefore
am a proper person to advise against it. A
principal source of my extravagance, was
an opinion that the jade who had hold of
my affections at the time, would pity me
when she heard of the pain which her
beauty gave me; that she would be afraid
I would hang myself for her sake; that she
would come to soothe and caress me, in
order to prevent it. Far from it. My uneasiness
was the proof of her power to
wound; and the more distress I felt, the
greater credit to her beauty. She would
not have lost a sigh which she caused me
for any consideration. My lamentations
were as agreeable to her, as the groans of
the damned are to the devil. And so it
must be with every woman; because self
love induces it. Hanging is the last thing
they would be at. If they could get the
lover brought to this, they are then at the
height of fame. It falls but to the lot of
one here and there to have a man drown
himself for her; and when it does happen,
it makes such a noise that all covet it.

I would venture to say, that this female
whom you fast and pray about so much,

would be very unwilling to breathe the soul
into you, were it once out. Instead of
fasting, she is eating; and while you sigh
in the night, she snores.

You have an opinion, perhaps, that
you may bend her by your perseverance.
That is a mistake. A man that once comes
to this state of sighing, and dying, has
but little chance; because he has surrendered
himself; and there is nothing more
to be won. Were there any possibility of
succeeding, it would be by first conquering
yourself; dismissing all idea of her partiality
for you; for it is owing to this secret
vanity, and self-flattery, that you still
pursue. Absolute despair is the first step
towards the cure of love. It is either drowning
or curing, with you at present. As
you have not drowned yourself, you are
in a fair way to be cured.

I know very well how you missed the
matter with this hussy. You appear to be
a young man of great sensibility of feeling;
and I presume made your addresses with
great refinement of thought and manners.
You talked to her of flames and darts, and
flowers and roses; read poetry in the mean
time, and thought a great deal of Phillis,
and Amaryllis; and entertained her with

names and incidents in romances, and sung
and recited soft love songs about Amanda,
and Phebe, and Colin; whereas your
way was to have talked careless nonsense,
and sung such songs as Pady Kelly, and
Tristram Shandy-O; and told her stories
of girls that had run off with pedlars, or
gone a campaigning with the soldiers.
These ideas are light and frolicsome, and
co-natural to springing love. Hence it is
that men of but loose and irregular education,
succeed better with the fair, than
scholars that are learned in the classics.

But to bring the matter to a point, the
true way is to get another mistress; and profit
by your experience with the first. No
more of sighing and dying in the case;
but singing, and laughing, and jumping
like a young fox. Hint a little with respect
to certain matters that are between
the sexes; but let it be done in so delicate
a manner, that, though she understands
you, she is not obliged to do it. What
I mean, is to make her think you would
rather debauch her than marry her. Bring
her to this suspicion, and I warrant you.
Her whole study will be to entrap you into
matrimony. For it is natural for the
human mind, when it observes a great

security and confidence in another, to
imagine there must be some ground for
it. It will argue a consciousness, on your
part, of having as good or better in your
power. It will impress her with the same
idea; and imagination governs the world.

When the mind is bent upon any object,
it is relieved by the conversation of
those who understand it; and, as it were,
dissolve with them in the same ideas.
The young man was pleased with the conversation
of the Captain, and seemed
cheared; agreed to join the family, and
be a little sociable. By degrees he became
so; and what by the conversation of the
Captain, sometimes explaining and sometimes
ridiculing the passion of love; and
the young ladies of the family, in the
mean time, rallying him on his weakness,
he came a little to his senses, (for love is
a phrenzy), and began to behave like a
common man. For it having come out
now, that love was the cause of his distress
and singularity of conduct, some
pitied him, and others rallied it with good
humour and philanthropy. It had, however,
become the general topic in the family,
and was carried down to the kitchen
among the servants.

Teague hearing of it took it into his
head that he must be in love too; and
counterfeiting a demure look, and absence
of mind, and walking by himself,
and living on spare diet, as he had heard
the young man that was in love did, he
wished to have it understood that his
mind was under the dominion of the same
passion. This being observed, was represented
to the Captain; who being at a loss
to know what was the matter, called
Teague, and began to interrogate him.
The bog-trotter, with some seeming reluctance,
acknowledged that it was love.
Said the Captain, You in love, you great
bear; with whom are you in love? That
dear cratur, said the Irishman, that has
the black hair, and the fair face, and her
name is Mrs. Sally, in the house there.
She is a fair as the wool or the snow, and
gives me the cholic, and the heart-burn,
every time I look at her fair eyes; God
save her soul from damnation, but I love
her as I do the very food that I ate, or
the cloathes that I ware upon my back.

It appeared to be Miss Sally, a very
pretty girl, the eldest daughter of the landlady;
who, by the bye, I mean the ladlady,
was a widow, and had two daughters

and a niece with her; the handsomest of
whom was this Miss Sally, with whom
Teague had become enamoured. For simple
and ignorant nature will fasten on
beauty, as well as the most instructed
in the principles of taste.

The Captain having been a good deal
troubled, heretofore, with the pretensions
of this valet, in wishing to be a member
of the legislature, a philosopher, a preacher,
and now a lover, thought he had now
a good opportunity of repressing his presumption
for the future. There was a
young man, a brother in the family, who
had been some time in the service, as a
lieutenant, and had leave of absence at
this time, on a visit to his mother and
sisters. The Captain well knew, that being
in the pride and heat of youth, he
would consider Teague's advances to his
sister as an insult on the family, and chastise
him accordingly. With this view,
counterfeiting every possible disposition to
serve the bog-trotter, the Captain recommended
to him to make a confident of
the brother, and endeavour to gain his interest
with the sister.

Accordingly, one morning when the
officer was in his chamber, Teague made

his approach; and composing his woe begone
countenance as well as he could, and
explaining the cause of it, solicited his interest
with the lady.

There was a whip in a corner of the
room, with which the lieutenant had been
riding; seizing this hastily, he made an
attack upon the person of the lover, in a
manner far beyond what was decent or
moderate. The valet retreating with considerable
outcries, made complaint to the
Captain; who gave him to understand,
that as this outrage was committed by his
intended brother in-law, it must be considered
in the nature of a family quarrel,
and he could not interfere.

The advances of Teague became the
subject of conversation in the family, and
of much mirth and laughter. The young
man who had been in the state of melancholy
before described, and had been
cheered a little, was now in a great degree
cured by the imitation of the valet.
For ridicule is a better cure for love than
passion. It is better to make the patient
laugh than think.

Having now a disposition to pursue his
travels, the Captain sent for his horse,
and set out.

3. CHAP. III.
Containing Observations.

THE observations which we make when
the narration of the fact is ended, are
something like the sentiments delivered by
the chorus in the ancient plays; a kind of
moral on what was said; or like the moral
as it is called to a fable. In this view therefore;
we shall endeavour to say something.

The young man that we have seen so
deeply in love, was of a handsome personal
appearance, and of an eye and physiognomy
that indicated sensibility and understanding;
and yet it is probable the female
of whom he was so much enamoured, may
have been both homely, and destitute of
good mental qualities. Whence could a
repulse in this case happen. From a thousand
causes. We will specify some of
them. The very circumstance of his being
beyond her first hopes, may have put him
beyond her last wishes. A female wooed
by a man her superior, may be led to think

she has still a chance for better; and that
there must be diamonds in her hair, or
some hidden advantages on her part, of
which she was herself ignorant; otherwise
such advances would not be made to her;
or she may apprehend some defect on the
part of the lover, of which he is conscious;
otherwise, he would not stoop beneath his
natural expectations.

It is possible the Amanda may not have
been of the same class and quality with
himself. This would of itself account for
the repulse. Should the eagle come from
the firmament, and make his advances to
the pheasant, he would find himself unsuccessful;
for the brown bird would prefer
a lover of her own species: or, should
the rein deer, which is a most beautiful
creature, woo a frog, the croaking animal
would recede into the marsh, and solace
itself with a paramour of its own
chusing. When, therefore, unexperienced
young persons place their affections
on an object, and do not find a suitable
return, they ought to save their pride, and
make the inference, that they had descended
from their element, and fastened on an
animal unworthy of their notice.

These observations, in addition to those

made by the Captain to the young man,
may be of use to unfortunate lovers; and
if so, it will be a recompence for the trouble
we have given ourselves in making
them.