to know the caufe.---Alcippus told him he was in great distress to pay a debt of honour.---The fum was an hundred guineas, which Mondor inftantly fupplied him with, but would not take a note---by this he thought he had gained a friend; but he was in an error---he never faw him more.

He then gave into the company of men of letters. They looked on him as capable of examining their works, whilft they obtained a favourable hearing from him more readily than - from the public. Mondor met with a piece, in which he thought he faw great merit; but yet it feemed to need the most severe and strictest fcrutiny.---It was a comedy.---He curtailed the fuperfluous matter, infifted on more folidity being thrown into what remained, advised the author to form a more regular connection between his scenes, to make them arise more immediately from each other, and to enable his actors always to maintain their station; convinced him, that he ought to pay more regard to the propriety of dialogue, than to the tinfelled glitter of wit or repartee; to fupport his characters with lively colouring; yet, at the fame time, rather to form them into gradual fhadowing, than present them in an unnatural contrast of light and shade;---and, laftly, pointed out to him, that tedious declamation and foliloquy ever throw a coldness

G 2

coldness on the principal action.---Such was the counfel which he gave the author; he followed it, and by it corrected his piece.---But was as foon convinced that his advice was wrong.--The actors abfolutely refused to play it.

This circumftance difgufted Mondor as to the giving counfel.---The fame author, however, who, one would have thought, would have been fick of writing, compofed another piece, which was no more than a mere cluster of rude and unconnected fcenes.--Mondor dared not now to advise him against the publishing it;-but he was in an error: The piece was hiffed.-This threw him into perplexity-If he advised, he was mistaken;—if he did not advise, he was again miftaken.---He quitted now the company of wits, and mingled with the learned; but here he found himself no better circumftanced;-this fet of people never fpoke but when they had fomewhat to fay. They generally were filent.Mondor became impatient, and seemed a fool amongst them.

From these he went into the company of women who aimed at talents.---But here again he was in an error.

He thought himself in a climate more neighbouring on the fun; inftead of which it was the land of lightning, where every fruit was fcorched before 'twas ripe.-He found that moft of them poffeffed a few ideas, which they divided.

into

into a multitude of little thoughts.-In fhort, that their whole art confifted in retaling wit; and foon perceived how much he was mistaken, in feeking their fociety.---He ftrove to fhine amongst them, they looked grave;-he ftrove to reason, they burft out in laughter;-he pleafed not, though he understood the clafficks; and was convinced, that for a young man to have ftudied Cicero, was not the way to make him a favourite with the fair.

Mondor was the most rational of all men, yet knew not which way to turn him to be right.--He had experienced, that our uneafineffes in this world are lefs occafioned by taking wrong steps, than by unskilfully taking right ones.-He was inclinable to make his court, and crufhed his fortune by it.---He ftrove to make a friend, and was duped by him. He had conversed with wits, and was confounded by them.-Amongst the learned he had been tired, and amongft women tirefome.-What ftep fhould he now take?-He had heard the happiness of two perfons, united by a mutual paffion, spoken of in the highest terms; he therefore thought the wifeft thing he could do, would be to fall in love.-He immediately formed a defign fo to do, which was the fureft means not to do it. He examined a great variety of women; put into the fcales the feveral charms and talents of each, in order to determine

Ģ 3

determine himself for her who fhould poffefs one fingle perfection more than the reft, and looked upon love as a deity with whom he might deal by way of barter and traffick.

In vain did he make this review.-In vain did he ftrive to fall in love.-It was impoffible.One day, however, when he did not think of it, he was entrapped in that paffion, for one of the homelieft, and moft capricious women in the world. He congratulated himself on his choice, He was not infenfible to her want of beauty, but he was so much the more pleased, as he flattered himself from thence he fhould have no rivals. Here, however, he was in an error.He knew not that the ugliest women are frequently the greatest coquets. Not a look, a grimace, a fyllable with them but has defign in it; and they take as much care to adorn their form, as a farmer does to render a bad piece of ground fertile. This conduct generally fucceeds; the advances they make flatter our pride, and the homeliness of the women lofes its existence in the vanity of the

men.

Mondor found, by fatal experience, the truth of this. He found himself furrounded by rivals, and was uneafy at it-ftill he was in an error; and this led him to a greater error ftill, which was to marry.He treated his wife with all the tenderness imaginable ;-here he was in an error;

the

fhe took his gentleness for weakness, and ruled him with a rod of iron.-On this he quarrelled with her, in which again he was in an error, for it brought on him the neceffity and trouble of a reconcilement.-In confequence of this reconcilement he had two children, that is to fay, twa more errors.-At length he became a widower, and now, for once, was right. But even this he converted into an error.-He was fo afflicted that he quitted the capital and retired to his country-house.

In the neighbourhood where he lived, there refided a rich man, who kept up fo great degree of pride that he neither received nor vifited any of his neighbours.-Mondor thought he was to blame; he was as affable as the other was referved. But here he was in an error. His house became a rendezvous of all the idlers round him, who teized him without relaxation. He envied

the fate of his neighbour, and found, too late, that it was more mifery to be befieged than to be dreaded.-A law-fuit was commenced against him for a small portion of his eftate.-He chofe, however, rather to give up fome part of what was unjustly demanded of him, than enter into a tedious controversy.-He invited his adverfary to dine with him, received him courteously, and confented to a difadvantageous compromife. Yet here again he found that he was in another error.This mild proceeding fpread through the coun