THE ADVENTURES OF Mrs. Tend-—-, [Price, a British Sixpence.] THE ADVENTURES OF Mrs. Tend---. Being an impartial Answer to A Letter to her Friend. In which are exhibited some Remarks worthy the Attention of the Curious; her Conduct with that of Tend--'s fairly laid open; the injured Characters vindicated, and submitted to the Public. ALSO LETTERS which passed betweeen them; with some MORAL REFLECIIONS. By a GENTLEMAN. First hear ALL, and then let Justice hold the Scale. Otway. DUBLIN: Printed by S. Buck, in Aungier street, M.DCC.LXVIII. THE ADVENTURES OF Mrs. TEND----, &c. AS the actions of quality, or people of fashion are more exposed to view, than common people, their glory more illustri- ous, their infamy more conspicuous, who- ever attempts unjustly to obscure the brightness of such characters, doubtless merits the most severe and rigo- rous punishment; if therefore, this is accounted a crime in indifferent persons, how much more so is it aggravat- ed in a son or daughter. It too often happens that an infinite number of per- sons content themselves with hearing that such and such things were so and so, without examining fur- ther into the particulars; this indolence or belief, of being sufficiently informed, is the cause why people so frequently fall into errors, and are exposed to the mi- slakes of such, as have not from an accurate review, A made [2] made themselves matters of the causes by which such accidents were produced. It is with some concern I recollect this to be the case, upon a late occasion, I mean the unfortunate union of Miss D--M--, with an Italian, surnamed Tend-: I flatter myself when the whole of this transaction is set down impartially (as is the case in the following account) the thinking part of the world will be far from judging any part of Mr. M-- pro- ceedings deserving censure. Mr. M-—being of a humane, tender, and in- dulgent disposition, and from his circumstances and situation in the world, able to procure any accomplish- ments for his children this kingdom could afford, it is not to be surprized if he took every step possible to promote any natural turn or capacity his children should discover in their tender years. In his daughter D-- he perceived an early taste for Music, than to promote which he studied nothing more. This art or science being held in the highest esteem, and most deservedly, since it is productive not only of the highest fashionable entertainment, but also of the most beneficient effects, it’s noblest use being to celebrate the Deity, with har- monious sacrifice and adoration, which has claimed a place in the laws and customs of the most different nations; as the Grecians and Romans of the profane, the Jews and Christians of the sacred world, did as unanimously [3] unanimously agree in this, as they disagreed in all other parts of their economy; nor can we doubt that the songs of Sion, or other sublime poetry, softened in the most moving strains of music, have the power of swelling the heart with rapturous thanksgiving. To the end therefore that Miss D—— should be perfect mistress of this science, Mr, M--very much countenanced the visits of Tend--, same having reported him to be a great proficient in that art. Mr. M--frequently offered him a gratuity, but this he declined accepting of, and only desired in return the friendship of Mr. M--and family at his benefits. In consequence of this, Mr. M--re- commended him strorgly to all his friends, had him frequently to dine at his own table, an honour which certainly no Eunuch, in this or any other kingdom, could ever boast of before: the business of such being to watch, with Argus’ eyes suspected chastity, and not to mingle or associate with persons of fashion and di- stinction. Christmas now approaching, Miss D— was in- vited with a numerous party, to spend the holy days at a Gentleman’s seat near Dublin, Mr. M—- ever ready to indulge his children in every reasonable request, grants her permission, never once suspecting any intrigue between her and Tend-—, or that what she wanted was an [4] an opportunity of unbosoming herself to him, and giving a loose to passion, which being excessive, and not regu- lated by duty, reason, or decency, hurried her like a vessel on a tempestuous sea, without either mast or rudder. Tend— also by the contrivance of D— is made one of the party, and every opportunity em- ployed in giving him assurances of love and friendship: The life of a Messelena, or a Lais will, I am sure, ap- pear amiable when compared to this part of her conduct. In her letter to her friend, she acknowledges her beha- viour has, at different times, put her to the blush, which believe me has often given me secret pleasure, hoping that confession was the forerunner of a reforma- tion in her, and that after a little time, she would be touched with some remorse for her shameful choice, and the scandalous object of her affections! Having spent the holy days very agreeably, as she calls it, she now returns to town, thoughtful and pen- sive for her dear Tend—. Tend-- from the many assuranres be received from her, whilst in the country, of inviolable love and constancy, was not wanting in fanning every spark of love he before inspired her with, now becomes more frequent in his visits, and pains taking in his instructions, all which Mr. and Mrs M-- concluded proceeded from gratitude, and a proper sense of the politeness with which he had been treated. and [5] and the indefatigable pains they took in assisting his benefit nights. It being now the month of July, Mr. M--’s business required his attendance in Limerick, where Miss D—-accompanies him, having first precocserted matters with the Signior. Some time after their arrival, Mr. M-- had some advantageous proposals made him by a gentleman of fortune and family, for his daughter D—- in marriage. Mr. M-- agreeable to his wonted goodness and indulgence to his children, replied, that though he on his part approved the match, it was necessary D—-’s inclinations should be consulted, that if her consent was wanting, he must beg to be excused from putting any force or restraint on her inclinations. Miss D—- had the question put to her, by some friends and relations, and the advantages of it remonstrated to her, but all to no purpose, as she was at this time underhand engaged to a man of far superior merit and ability, and this man of ability, was no other than Signior Tend--. Here you have the conduct of Mr. M-- in the most amiable light, he clearly sees the advantages that would arise to his daughter from such an union with this gentleman; he is sensible she can have no objection to his family, his fortune, or his person, yet he, like every tender and affectionate parent, avoids making her in- clination 5 [6] clinations, subservient to his will, all which you must attribute to the sincerest love and tenderness for as real love or affection is easily alarmed, so it is easily fluttered, and as every the least thing is wont to throw the mind that harbours it, into despair, so the least thing serves to elevate and transport it, and as it often indulges the most cruel torments, so it adds the sweetest extasies to the most insignificant pleasures. As to the young gentleman who applied for Miss D--,I am far from concluding him unfortunate, in not being wedded to this fair; on the contrary, I conceive him to be under the favourite influence of Heaven, in having so miraculously escaped her. Miss D—- now applies to her father for leave to accompany him to the assizes of Cork; in this he also indulges her, never once thinking she was lead to make this request from a passionate desire of seeing her dear Tend—, and having an opportunity of forwarding an intrigue with him. Tend-- who is at this time en- gaged at the Cork Theatre, is immediately, by her contrivance, acquainted with her arrival; a place of meeting is held, and every tender sentiment again re- newed; this deluded creature concluding that delays were dangerous, and to prevent any thing from thwart- ing her inclinations, now modestly proposed and expa- tiated [7] tiated on the happy state of matrimony. Her reason- ing however just, had a siugular effect on the Signior, this serious proposal of marriage came on him like a thunderbolt; at length roused from his inexpressible amazement, he most humbly implored a little time to consider of this affair, and I think form a very prudent motive, which was no other than being apprehensive she had taken him to be what he really was not: how- ever, after much debate, and tumult within himself, he at length resolves to enter into the holy date, though his doing so should be hereafter ever so great a burlesque on matrimony. Agreeable to his, or rather her wishes, the marriage ceremony was performed, with as much splendor as the privacy of it would admit. I should have observed to you, that a few days before their marriage, Mr M-- was under the necessity of returning to Limerick, on some business of emergency, and had committed the care of D— to a gentleman and lady of his acquaint- ance, who were in a few days after to go to Limerick, with directions that she should travel with them. She now sets out with this Gentleman and Lady, and having some delay in the town of Mallow, was won- derfully surprised to find, she was not only the table talk of the people of fashion, but also of the lower class [8] class, who, in her hearing exclaimed against her as the heinousness of her crime and bad conduct deserved. This affected her so, that she immediately wrote to Tend--, informed him how their marriage had taken wing, was in the mouths of every one, and in how odious a light the world held her for it, withall insisting he would the Sunday following, meet her in Limerick to assist an escape from her father and friends. The conclusion of her letter was as follows: “ My dear Soul, I shall think every moment an age “'till I have my most earnest wishes gratified, which “ can never be, while we are so unfortunate to be “ thus separated. and until I can have you intirely, ‘‘shall look on myself as the most wretched of beings." The better to effect her escape, she now finds it absolutely necessary, to impart the secret of her ever memorable and scandalous union, to some one of Mr. M ’s family or domesticks, (I shall not call him by the name of her F- least it should give him offence.) The person made choice of by D—, whom for the future I will indignify with the name of Mrs, Tend--, was a man servant of Mr. M—-'s whom I shall call by the name of SHARP, a fellow much versant in roguery and cunning, and one who never scrupled in any service he has been, to sacrifice the [9] the confidence or interest of his mailer for the smallest gratuity, of which he now furnishes you with fresh influnces. I shall here beg leave to observe, that is impossible for gentlemen to be too cautious in the servants they employ, as there never yet was any transaction detri- mental to a family, but what a servant of some degree or other was concerned in: In the most savage hearts you may find some sparks of honour or gratitude, but in the generality of these reptiles, you cannot discover the least particle. But to return from whence I degressed, Sharp be- somes now a principal agent in this amour; sacrifices the reputation, the interest, and the peace of his master and family, to the private consideration of gra- tifying a most infatuated unhappy girl, abject in her principles, and detestable in her example, this servile wretch watches the coming of Tend—— to town, meets him on his entrance, and with all due precaution delivers him a letter, from the unhappy fair. By the contents he was immediately informed how to square his conduct, but he was particularly informed that Sharp was a young man of unquestionable fidelity and secrecy. Immediately Tend-- hires fresh horses, and ac- B compainied [10] companied with this trusty varlet, posts away to G.—nh—ll Mrs. Tend is instantly informed of their arrival, whereupon she immediately calls for pen, ink and paper in order to give Mr. M-- a detail of her unfortunate and vicious inclinations; the next thing she does is to make a young lady in the house acquainted with the nature and secrecy of her marriage, who from a just sense of the many advant- ages, and credit that would arise to Mrs. Tend-- and family, from such an honourable alliance, promised not only to keep it an inviolable secret, but that she would take every step imaginable to forward her most prudent intentions: Of this she gave a particular in- stance, in stealing the key of the back door, to facilitate the escape of Mrs. Tend——for which she is very Justiy requited, as Mrs. Tend-- in her Letter de- clares her kind assistance and the friendly steps she had taken to forward her destruction. Having now finished her letter and adjusted all mat- ters to her satisfaction, after a few loving embraces with one or two of the servants, Mrs. Tend attended with her fair confidant issues forth to meet her much be- loved Tend—. The first object the light of the Moon presented to their view was the figure of a man, stretched at full length on a gravel walk, and on a nearer approach the finds it to be no other than her dear Tend—— as if breathing [11] breathing his last, his heart beat with double violence, the circulation of his blood was carried on with unusual rapi- dity, his cheeks glowed with rage, his nostrils expanded wide, his teeth fell on the nether lip and knaw- ed it without mercy; in short his vissige was so distorted that Mrs. Tend conjecturing from this phœnome- na, he was in a trans or fit, hastened to a neighbouring brook, and in the hat of the entranced Seignior, brought some water, and with this cold element besprinkled him so plentifully that he was immediately roused from his profound reverie, and restored to the free and vigorous use of his limbs. Tend—— thus awakend, first express- es his many obligations to his dear D—, proclaimed her aloud the mirrour of the age, he would have proceeded farther had not Sharp very shrewedly observed it was now somewhat advanced in the night. On this the Seig- nior mounts his bucephalus and very undauntedly leads the way. They after suffering many and various difficul- ties on the road are now safe arrived in Cork, where I shall for some time leave them, and see with what consequences her Letter to her F—— was attended. Mr. M-- on perusal of it finds she the night before eloped with Tend--, at this he was thunder struck, an universal tremor seized on every joint, and B 2 speechless [12] specchless he falls into his chair; cries and shrieks fill each corner of the house, and heavy melancholy far enthroned on every brow. Mr M-- is at length, after much trouble and by the assistance of Physicians, restored to his senses, but yet con- tinued very weak and languid. I shall not spin out my narration to a length beyond what I can avoid nor detain your attention farther, let it suffice to say, never yet was felt by any family more tender grief or exquisite sorrow. Mr M-——'s friends resolve to seek vengeance on the cursed T——and his wife, who were the occasion of all this, for which purpose they set out directly for Cork; on their arrival there they are informed that Mr. ——, had a good deal of genteel company that day at dinner with him, whither Mr. and Mrs Tend-- were asked in order to entertain them with their singing. Mr. W-- having got a warrant against the Seignior and his beloved wife, waits at their Lodgings for their re- turn, The night was far advanced when Mrs. Tend—- came in a sedan, on which the Gentleman who had the warrant desired the chairmen open it, for that he had an order against the Lady in it. This they peremptorily refused to do, bidding an open defiance to the law, which produced strokes on each side such as you may better con- ceive [13] cieive than feel; the weightiest of which fell on the chair- men; however, after a vigorous resistance on the part of the latter, Mrs. Tend—— was apprehended, and with all the politeness and good manners imaginable safely conducted to the House of Mr. S-- where I shall for some time leave her to contemplate on her misery, and see what became of the Seignior. Mr. W—— Mr. S— T— G—- and some other Gen- tlemen now go in guest of Tend, whom after many fruitless searches they at last discover at a back window, meditating flight and an escape from justice, with an odd slipper in his left hand, and the handle of a brush in his right, which at several times did vibrate with all the dex- terity of a Donquixot. Mr. W-- observing him to throw himself into postures offensive as well as defensive, recommended him to surrender himself peaceably, pro- mising him should be treated properly and as befitted a man against whom a due course of law was intended; which he at last did after much hesitation and many ar- guments, but previous to his doing so, begged to know whether the laws of this Kingdom so far resembled the laws of Italy as to make this his crime death, without the benefit of Clergy. These his doubts none then present could resolve him in, at which I am realy very much sur- prized as they may easily know the wisdom of our Le- gislator [14] gislator could never foresee an union of this kind,and con- sequently concluded any such act of parliament unneces- sary. It is therefore now humbly presumed some mem- ber of the H-- of C-- , will next session, bring in heads of a bill, exhibiting the insufferable attempts and assurance of Italian Spado’s as well as the misery they are like to entail on the nation. That if the h-- H--fe, shall in it’s great wisdom think meet to suffer the free importation of any such here, it may be under certain rules and regulations, viz. That on the arrival of any of them in this Kingdom, the same be im- mediately notified to certain reputable Matrons appointed for that purpose, with fixed salaries to each, who shall im- mediately repair to the vessel, and privatly but strictly examine every Italian. Of this his matriculation he must bring an attested Certificate from the Matron and fee that the same is duly registered to prevent confusion, the Clerks of the Registery Office must be particularly careful and cautious that no false Certificates are pro- duced as this would entirely subvert the nature of our measures. Tend having now surrendered himself a priso- ner, was agreeable to law, with all due decorum conduct- ed [15] ed under a proper guard to the City Goal. The goaler looking on Tend--’s crime to be as heinous and fla- grant as that of a murderer, but of a similar nature with a felon, without farther compliment to his musical notes placed him in that part of the goal commonly called the Hall. This was no doubt in Mrs. Tend--’s eyes treating Mr. Tend-- in a manner vastly unbecoming his dignity. This Hall being the place where the lowest class of the poor confined debtors lie, I cannot conceive how far his being placed among these poor, but honest people, could decorate from his importance, or the cre- dit of the goal keeper. History does not furnish any instances or right of respect Eunuchs can claim, on the contrary, antient his- tory as well as the modern experience of people of fashion in foreign countries, assure us they are ludicrous forms, and though on some occasions necessary, yet held in the most contemptable light. In Spain and Italy they are the very dregs of the people, when young their abandon- ed parents, in consideration of some small gratuity, dis- pose of them and see they are well cut out for singing; they then are sent to places of devotion to sing hymns and psalms much in the same manner with our blue boys, but in a less reputable light. Tend- [16] Tend—— being now in the hands of justice Mr: M-- ’s friends thought it prudent to send her off di- rectly to Limerick, in order to prevent her being an im- mediate witness of the disgrace she brought on her fa- mily. The year on which this scene of misery happened was no other than that on which the worthy and active W—P— Esq; was mayor. This gentleman’s charac- ter Mrs.Tend—attempts to asperse and traduce, by re- presenting him as partial in the highest degree on that occasion, but how fruitless does she labour; all her asper- sions and insinuations not being sufficient to lessen him in the esteem and good graces of that city. A paper which lately come to my hands may in some measure furnish you with an idea, of the high opinion the people of Cork entertained of this gentleman’s conduct and activity du- ring the time of his being in office. Intiger vite sceltrisque puris non eget mauri jaculis. He who on sacred virtue sounds his views. The real scheme of happiness pursues. No power on earth or hell can hurt the man Who squares his life by this unerring plan; His mind can never fear external foes, Which virtue guards with undistuibed repose. The [17] The poor Mans' Lamentation after the Right Worshipful W--P--, Esq; Mayor of C--. What clouds of sorrow over spread the mind, From carking cares our hearts no rest can find; Now P—-s alas, has quitted awful sway, Console oh Cork condole this ruthful day.’ His constant care did still relieve distress Promote our joys, our peace, our happiness. We are left, now left to ravenous Wolves,* a prey Who grind poor faces and poor hearts dismay. Of mortal sprung.-—No, no.-—My muse tells me,’ He as Astreas son adored shou’d be. Adieu great P—-s, the Phenix of the age, Support of poor, of worthies, worthiest sage; On whom the Gods do bounteously bestow An heart in which all shining virtues glow. Lodged in our breasts, whilst men air breathe shall be Than brass, more lasting monuments of thee. Of Heaven and Earth all blessings may attend The active P-—s, till he the Heavens ascend. * Regrators, Forestallers and Monopolizers. C Tend- [18] Mr. M——, and Mr. R-- M——, were by this time arrived at Cork. Mr. M immediately lodged examinations against Tend—- for seduction and obtain- ed a warrant against him. To execute which Mr- M—— proceeded with a proper civil officer, and a guard to the lodgings of Tend-- , on entering the bed-chamber Mr. M—- beheld to his inexpressible grief Mrs. Tend—-—enfolded in the arms of the Seig- nior; no fallen angel looked half so disposing as did D—- at the fight of her f--, prostrate on her knees she implores forgiveness, but in vain her crime being of such a nature as little merited pardon or lenity. Tend is now conduced to jail under a proper guard, and Mrs: Tend—— is sent to the county Tippe- rary, T-- now feels great remorse for his past conduct and to all appearance sorry for his unhappy amour, is summoned to appear before two magistrates, to the end that he may be examined touching the nature of his mar- riage, agreeable to a clause in an act of parliament rela- tive to clandestine marriages. After taking his deposi- tions, (which he to render them the more valid signed himself) he is again remanded to prison. On his ex- amination before the justices it appeared he perjured himself, for which he is therefore indicted and has a fresh committal laid on him, and under this is continued in the North Jail until he was at length bailed. Here [19] Here I must beg leave to observe to the inhabitants and well wishers of Cork the affront given them by the wife of this Italian: she in her letter describes your city jail as the most shocking loathsom prison in the universe, and the worse regulated; I do contend for it that it is not the filthy dismnal place she represents, but on the contrary, is as elegant a prison, both for structure and cleanliness, as any in the kingdom; What could Mrs. D—-intend but a palpable affront to the corporation of C.... Tend--, now contrary to his engagement, makes his appearance on the C—k Theatre, previous to which he gave out printed notices of the same, with directions in them that gentlemen should call on him for such and such songs, which related to his marriage. Agreeable to his wishes, they who got these printed notices, did call on him for the songs, in doing which a great noise arose, though Mrs. Tend-- did most unjusty insunuate that this disturbance was occasioned by a party of the friends of Mr. M--. I am very sure they would not think of resentment in such man- ner, but if they had, he richly deserved it, for having the assurance to perfect so far in giving such a respectable family offence, as to circulate printed papers, importing his being ready at call to sing songs of triumph, and consequently offensive. C 2 The [20] The reader will please to recollect if he has read her letter to her friend, how she there unjustly insinuates, that the clamours produced by these printed notices, were steps taken by Mr. M—— and friends to preju- dice Tend—: In this, as well as in many other places, the reader may observe the falsity of her insinuations, who, I presume will not scruple treating her so far con- temptibly, as to pay an utter disbelief to all and eve- ry her assertions. You may in many places also observe, how malici- ously, undutifully, and erroneously she at several times treats Mr. M— , by saying his methods of redress were both persecuting and oppressive; and what is still worse that he did countenance, and actually encourage p--y and subornation of witnesses: Surely no gentle- men who is a parent, or has ever a prospect of being one, can think of this woman but with the greatest horror and detestation. Good name in man or woman Is the immediate jewel of our souls. Who steals my purse, steals trash; ’tis something, nothing: 'Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands. But he that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed. Shakespear's Othello. [21] --’Tis slander’ Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue Out-venoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters. Shakespeare’s Cymbeiline. Tend—after some time finding his printed notices were likely to bring him into a sad dilemma, is advised as a remedy for his imprudence, to quit Cork directly, and that as private as possible, and he judging it advise- able posts away to Lismore, where I will for some time with him a farewell, and see what became of the amiable D--. On her arrival at Mr. W--’s she was received with that coldness her ill conduct merited; had many remonstrances made to her on the singularity of her match, and the troubles she involved her family in. She was not here three days when her unhappy m—- Mrs. M-—-arrived, all bathed in tears, and over- whelmed with sorrow, for the misfortune of her wretch- ed daughter. In a few days after came Mr. M--, who expostulated with her for a long time, hoped she was [22] was sensible now of her great error, and was become penitent. Finding by her no gentle methods would take place, and imagining from her perseverance she had been cer- tainly impaired in her senses, he now threatens to send her to a mad house as the properest place for her, but all to no purpose, she resolves firmly on her own ruin. Mr. M--therefore orders her under a proper re- gimen, to be confined to the upper part of the house, and sends for an eminent divine to visit her, that by his friendly and pious exhortations he may alter her way of thinking. But alas! his arguments were to no purpose, her friends finding nothing would do, she had a choice given her, viz. to disclaim Tend— and never think of him more, by doing which she would be restored to the esteem of her friends, or to be confined during the resi- due of her days in a lonely but pleasant country. To the latter the seems most inclined, and is therefore ordered directly to prepare for Limerick. Mr. M-- concluding it unnecessary to let her have any cloaths except such as were absolutely wanting to keep her clean and warm, desires she may have the rest taken from her. She favoured the public with a cata- logue [23] logue of what were left to her, which I think really were much more than she deserved. I could with all my heart with she was allowed at that time to make choice of any part of her cloaths, as by her choice in dress we may easily discern the struc- ture of her mind; Dress being the mirror of human kind, which frequently expresses our more predominant fobiles in the strongest and truest colours; as a tree is known by its fruit, so is either a man or woman by their dress. Would you have farther proof for the truth of this assertion, do but repair to the stage, where you may distinguish the sop at first sight, the absurd finery, tinsel lustre, and finical accuracy of his habit, clearly demon- strate a levity of mind, and prove that the wearer has neglected the culture of his better part, for the empty pride of adorning his body. In the same manner we discern the man of formal gravity, the giddy coquette, the dissolute rake, and abandoned harlot, a tinsture of whole several ruling passions runs through marks and discriminates their respective habits. There is a certain ruling principle denominated taste or fancy, which never fails in determining our choice to certain colours, and unless the different impressions of sympathy and antipathy upon the, fight of different objects [24] objects is the cause of this, I really know no other, nor can I assign any other reason why one man gives the preference to blue, another to white, or a third to black, unless it is that these several coincide with, and and are respondent to their various dispositions: As the poets have made white an emblem of chastity and other virtues, so they have also made black the attribute of melancholy, and a vicious turn of mind. Physicians, elegiac writers, and desponding lovers, with an infinite number of others are wonderfully attached to this colour; red is the emblem or type of fierceness; green is for the most part in vogue with country gentlemen, whose lives are spent in rural scenes amid the smiling verdure of meads and lawns, so that a choice of any one of these colours in preference to the rest, depends on our tempers being more or less gay, fierce, or sedate. Mr. M--now considers continuing D—-in his own house may be attended with bad consequences, as it may furnish the rest of his family with bad example, as well as serve to foment and increase his own grief, by having the unhappy object of his displeasure, still placed in his view, he therefore, by advice of friends, resolves to send her to some requestered vale, thinking to what degree soever her manners may be depraved, or her senses infatuated, virtue would again resume her empire 2: [25] as she is usually wont to do in those of genteel birth and generous education: As the following lines may not improperly be introduced here, they are infected as a lesson for the heroine of these adventures. Riot and guilt, and wasting care, And sell revenge, and black despair, Avoid the morning’s light: Nor seams the fun, nor blooms the rose, Their restless passions to compose, Who Virtue’s dictates flight. Along the mead, and in the wood. And on the margin of the flood. The goddess walks consess'd; She gives the landscape power to charm, The fun his genial heat to warm The wife and generous breast. Happy the man! whose tranquil mind Sees nature in her changes kind. And pleas’d the whole surveys; For him the morn benignly smiles, And ev’ning shades reward the toils That measure out his days. The varying year may shift the scene, The founding tempests lash the main. D And [26] And Heav'n's own thunders roll; Compos’d he sees the bursting storm, Tempests nor thunder can deform The calmness of his soul. The place now determined on for her retreat, was the house of one Mr. O’D—-. This gentleman Mr. M-- chose, as he knew him to be a man of strict honesty and integrity. To this gentleman’s house she is safely conducted, received with all the civility and good manners imagin- able; allowed all the liberties consistent with Mr. M-- charge to Mr. O'D--; furnished with all the plain and wholesome food the country could afford, or his circumstances in life admit of, such as good beef, mut- ton, fowl, &c. which were not served up to table in the filthy manner, Mrs. Tend— was pleased to mention. ’Tis true she was not fed with pies, pasties, ragouts, French or Italian dishes, nor did the family conclude her conduct so amiable or meritorious, as to entitle her to any extraordinary delicacies, or unnecessary prepa- rations, than what was requisite for themselves. Mrs. Tend—-in her letter, describes this retreat as the most dreary savage place in the universe ; devoid of any or the least improvement. As I conclude the rea- der [27] der as unprejudiced as myself, it may not perhaps be unacceptable to give a short but true description of this place. The house of Mr. O’D-- is neither wildly great, nor diminutively small; it is situated in the West of the county of Clare, near the verge of the famous river Shannon, which in some measure forms a canal; a shady wood with solitary walks shelters one part of it from the assaults of wintery Boreas, and Phæbus scorch- ing rays; while on the other sides are seen small hills, gentle descents, little brays, and rising promontories, all formed by nature, unafficted with the subtleties of art. It being what I have now described, I presume it cannot be that savage or loathsome recess she says it is; if so, we may insist the Lake of Killarney and gardens of Mu- cruss, are not the lovely rural scenes so universally ad- mired by all gentlemen of taste. Mrs. Tend—at several times requested Mr. O'D—- would permit her to walk at some distance from the house, which he agreeable to the repeated injunctions of Mr. M--as often refused, except when Mrs. O’D—- or his daughter would accompany her. Finding from the vigilance and integrity of Mr. O’D--in the charge resposed in him by Mr. M--, D2 she [28] she could have little or no hopes of escaping, sat down composed and after some meditation, begged to have the bible brought to her. Mr.O’D—- thinking the seeds of repentance which lay so long dormant and unactive, were now at length awakened in her soul, readily com- plied and brought it to her, but how great was his surprize to find her use of it, no other than to swear that to the last moment of her life would she follow Tend— and continue in the steps she has already followed, not- withstanding what her family should suffer both in mind and reputation. Mrs. Tend— seemed to be at a great loss to know what religion this family professed; their having a bible in the house plainly indicates them to be protestants, and people, I can assure my readers, of good morals, and not as irriligious as she would barely insinuate. That they are a reputable and genteel family is beyond dis- pute, as may clearly appear from their situation in life: Mr. O'D himself is an eminent grazier; Mr. W. O’D--his brother, a considerable farmer in the coun- ty of Clare; Mr. S. O’D, another brother, mer- chant in Limerick; a third brother an eminent sadler in said city ; and a fourth a grocer in Ennis, all men whole characters and good demeanour will bear the strictest examination. These [29] These particulars I recite not from an opinion that any gentlemen in the counties of Clare or Limerick, are unacquainted with the credit or decency of this family, but with a view of exhibiting this Mrs. Tend-—in her proper colours. She calumniates this gentleman and family, in return for their tenderness and care of her, and to awaken in her mind a picture of her defamation, have selected the following lines from Spencer’s Fairy Queen: With filthy locks about her scattcr’d wide, Gnawing her nails for fellness, and for ire. And thereout sucking venom to her parts entire. A soul a loathly creature sure in fight, And in conditions to be loath’d no less: For she was stuft with rancour and despigt Up to the throat; that oft with bitterness It forth would break, and gush with great excess, Pouring out fireams of poison and of gall, ’Gainst all that truth or virtue do prosess: Whom she with leasings. leudly did miscall And wickedly backbite: Her name men Slander call. Her nature is, all goodness to abuse, And causeless crimes continually to frame: With which the guiltless Persons may accuse, And [30] And steal away the crown of their good name: * Ne ever knight so bold, ne ever dame So chaste and loyal liv’d, but he would strive With forged cause them fasly to defame; Ne ever thing so well was doen ‡ alive But the with blame would blot and of due praise deprive. Her words were not as common words were meant, T’ express the meaning of the inner mind; But noisome breath, and poisonous spirit sent From inward parts, with canker’d malice lin’d And breathed forth with blast of bitter wind; Which passing thro’ the ears, would pierce the heart, And wound the Soul itself with grief unkind: For like the strings of asps, that kill with smart Her spiteful words did prick, and wound the inner part. When we consider this is the manner all worthless people repay past services, our amazement will subside in proportion to such consideration, and surely Mr O’D__ will not expect to find gratitude, or any good principle in this woman, if he once reflects on her be- haviour to her f__. She may justly be compared to a river which runs away from the spring that feeds it, and undermines the banks that support it. • Not. ‡ Done: Young [31] Young O'D—— now begins to think Mr. M—-—, may look on an alliance with him more acceptable than with a Tend——, but how to break the matter to her was what he was greatly at a loss, being naturally very modest and bashful, as is usually the case with young unexperienced country gentlemen, and not look- ing on her connection with Tend-- (on account of the great impediment) as binding either by the laws of God or man. Mrs.Tend-—immediately observed where he was at a loss, and very kindly relieved his distress, by asking him why he did not marry, or whether any such thoughts occurred to him; this was a charming opportunity he thought to open the secrets of his heart, and with her permission, spoke the sentiments of his mind in plain unvarnished words. She was silent for some time, and after a long pause, requested a day or two to consider of his proposol. The next day she requested young Mr. O’D—— would forward a letter to Tend—, which she assured was ac- quainting him of her determined resolution never to see him more. The following was taken from a soul copy of it, which was found in Mrs. Tend—'s bed chamber, after her elopement. My [32] My Life! My dearest Tend-- HOW many days, nay years do I think it, since I enjoyed the pleasing sight of you. In this lonely dismal place, situated among savages, who are insensible to what I feel for you, am I placed; buried to the world without the least enjoyment. I endure too much to be silent, and have born with so much ill treatment that at all events I am determined to make my escape, be the consequence ever so dangerous. To forward this are obliged to use stratagems that would surprize you; but, love, the sum total of all my misfortunes, makes my dismal situation the more wretch- ed; no friend near to trust with my secrets, nor any remedy, save hope, to remove my anguish, or preserve me from despair. Oh! my dear Tend—-, did you know what I suffer for you, if you had a heart of stone you would find some means for my relief, and contrive some way to re- deem me from this wretched prison; I suffer more than I can express; I am scoffed and derided by the insensible wretches here, under whose tyranny I have been placed; told many things of you I had not patience to hear; and of all the miseries I bear, those which proceed from love are the most intolerable. It haunts me in my sleep, perplexes [33] perplexes me when waking: every melancholy thought makes my fears more powerful. Since the first week I saw you, I have not enjoyed a day of perfect quiet. I loved you early, and no sooner had I looked on you with that admiration, but I felt in my heart the very foundation of all my peace give way. Alas! how short was the duration we spent together, before the cruelty of fate caused our separation, and nipt us on the approach of our happiness.—-Say, when shall we meet again?—’Tis an age ’till then—-I fear the happy day will never come. If you think of adding to my days, hasten to my re- lief. The faithful——Sharp will guide your steps hither, as he well knows this miserable habitation of my exile.—Let me again hasten your expedition, least in rage I may take steps subversive of our eternal peace. Excuse my words—l am almost frantic—Sure you would not leave me.—This moment I'm informed you have not many days ago perfected a bond to quit this kingdom.—Can it be true?—My mind contradicts if, and tells me it cannot be. You will be told many things, but I entreat you E take [34] take no heed of what my f —-'s friends and our ene- mies will say to you; their drill is to separate us, but neither earth or sea shall compass that end. I have not sung but once since I left you, and 'which was to oblige young O’D--who on that con- dition stole me the pen ink.—To make him civil to me am obliged to bear with a great deal of his nonsense. —He sometimes makes fierce love to me, which keeps me from giving too much way to melancholy. To do the young man justice, he is at times very ob- liging; and I like him best of all the family. He promises to carry me next Sunday behind him to church; oh, will you hasten to meet me there, what new life would it give.—-How foolish would he look re- turning to this cave without me I’m afraid I shall be caught writing.—But sure you wont mock at my generous love for you, and repay it with cold indifference; if you do I shall be the most unhappy creature existing.-- Mrs. O’D-- is on the stairs, therefore must break off, though I could with pleasure continue writing to you for a week. I must conclude, earnestly entreating you to expedi- tion, and the fight of your pleasing appearance, will add new life to your ever loving D— T——. At [35] At the expiration of the two days which Mrs. T— took to consider of Mr; O’D——;s proposol, he ha- stened to the apartments of this corrupted fair, and finding that she was reading, stole softly behind her hair, curious to know if it was a prayer book she me- ditated over; how great was his surprize to find it to be the Memoirs of Maria Brown, the courtesan, wrote by the author of that most corruptive book the “ Woman of Pleasure.” He immediately took the book from her, admonish- ed her for misapplying her time to such a wicked study, and said there was nothing in the female sex mere graceful or becoming than modesty. It adds charms to your beauty, and gives a new softness to your sex. Without it simplicity and innocence appear rude; reading and good sense, masculine; wit and humour, lascivious. Mrs. Tend— insisted on getting back the book, which he peremptorily refused, alledging that he had a sister in the house who perhaps may be corrupted by it, and to prevent the least danger of his fears was positive- ly determined not to return it. She then fell into a violent outrage; exclaimed a- gainst him in the most indiscrect manner, which obliged him to withdraw, and leave her to reflect on her good conduct, and his just cenfure. E2 To [36] To remedy this great error in her conduct, she thinks it will shake off the odium from herself, by telling the public, young O’D-- brought her the last mentioned book instead of a Common Prayer. Soon after she found means of escaping the vigi- gilance of Mr. O’D--, and mounted on one of his best horses bolts away to the county of Waterford, where she was informed her beloved Seignior was at that that time, entertained by one Mr. P , with all the marks of hospitality. Without any introduction or the least ceremony, she enters this gentleman’s house, tells him she is that fair one so universally spoke of for the Angularity of her choice, being the wife of Seignior Tend— Mr. P having a little knowledge of Mr, M-- and family, in respect to them, gave her a good reception. She soon made enquiry about the Seignior, and to her great mortification found he was gone off to Dublin, to seek employment at one of the theatres. Here Mrs. Tend— was in a woeful dilemma, the horse which she brought from Mr. O’D--'s being so harrassed by the length of the journey, that it was out of her power to proceed, notwithstanding the dangerous hazard she would run of being apprehended for [37] for carrying off the horse. Mr. P—-seeing her situati- on, told her the had better remain in his house for some days to see if any opportunity would offer, of convey ing her to Tend—-: All the time of her residence here no person in the house ever discovered the least eruption on her skin; therefore it is obvious the itch she so much complained of, could not be contracted at Mr. O'D--'s, but must have been taken after her leaving Mr. P--. Tend—- finding no encouragement from either of the theatres, determines on writing an insolent letter to Mr. M--which from its singularity, am inclined to repeat entire. "Honoured Sir, Dublin, Dec. 1, 1766. AS I think myself very unhappy in having given you cause of displeasure, I am the more desirous of agreeing to any terms or proposals that might ap- pease your resentment. You cannot but be sensible that all farther attempts to injure or distress me, can only serve as heretofore, to subject to vulgar tongues the name of a Lady, that ought to be dear to all her friends. To preserve that, precious name from scandal and calumny, I am ready to acquiesce under all the oppressive measures that have been taken hitherto to crush me, and to do any thing she and her friends think I ought [38] I ought, to make them all hanpy. I am, Sir, with the greatest respect, your most obedient, and most humble servant, F.T—— —' What could equal the assurance of this letter, or what could he mean but to insult, to triumph over Mr. M-——‘s misfortune. He says She ought to be dear to all her Friends, she ought no doubt, and the reason is very obvious, because she married a poor, meagre, ill- shaped, incapaciated E——h ; and by so doing entailed disgrace on her family, eternal reproach on her sex, and discredit on the country that gave her birth. When first I heard of this detestable union, I expect- ed every man of prudence, and woman of either deli- cacy or decency would be struck with a just abhorrence of such, and banish them from the socieiy of mankind; shun them as pernicious to society, and a disgrace to the holy stale of wedlock ; but alas! how changed and degenerate is the age we live in, instead of being des- pised, we see them cherished and encouraged, notwith- standing the evil example so glaring to the fight of all who are by Providence, fathers to children, and who know not how soon their own years may be eclipsed, by the infatuation of their daughters, these dear pledges of conjugal felicity. As [39] As I have stated this transaction with all the candour and impartiality possible, I must inform my readers, that things which pass at a distance, and from one to another, augment and sometimes diminish, according to the caprice or humour of the different persons who relate them. The vanity of a too strong; attachment to the follies of this life, and an eager pursuit of temporal pleasures, and self gratification, to the neglect and disregard of those enjoyments that are eternal, is beautifully repre- sented by the author of the following lines; therefore it is hoped they will be received as an acceptable present by the Ladies, particularly those who may be lead astray by the evil communication of any that have swerved from parental duty. The LADY’s SCULL. Blush not ye fair! to own me but be wife; Nor turn from sad Mortality your eyes: Same says (and Fame alone can tell how true) I—once—was lovely, and belov’d—like you. Where are my vot’ries, where my flatt'rers now? Fled with the subject of each lover’s vow. Adieu the role’s red the lilly’s white: Adieu those eyes that made the darkness light: No [40] No more alass! those coral lips are seen, No longer breaths the fragrant gale between. Turn from your mirrour, and behold in me At once what Thousands can’t, or dare not see; Unvarnisn’d I the real truth impart, Nor here am plac'd, but to direct the heart. Survey me well, ye fair ones, and believe, The grave may terrify, but can’t deceive. On beauty’s fragil state no more depend; Here youth and pleasure, age and sorrow end: Here drops the mask; here ends the final scene, Nor differs grave threescore from gay fifteen. All prefs alike to that same goal--the tomb. Where winkled Laura smiles at Chloe’s bloom. When coxcombs flatter, and when fools adore, Here learn the lesson, to be vain no more: Yet VIRTUE still against; decay can arm, And even lend Mortality a charm. FINIS.