Alexis; or, the Cottage in the Woods.

much furprifed. Good God, cried fhe! fhould Candor be dead, or has the place been taken by affault, and plundered Already her mind was agitated by a thoufand fufpicions, when the perceived feveral tracks of the footsteps of a man, which were directed towards the cottage. This revived Clara's hopes-Alas! faid fe, could we find him oh! Alexis! hould thefe, be traces of thy feet. Clara looks around, fhe examines al thefe marks-he even believes to distinguish them for being thofe of her lover's foot; childish reflections, a ridiculous illufion, begot by a fancy wholly taken up with its object!Without doubt, this reflection must appear very trifling to the readers; yet Clara could not be mistaken: -let us then follow her.

The drawbridge which was let. dwn, favoured the accefs of our little troop to the cottage. They enter the premifes-look around on all fides, and perceive nobody. Clara takes the van :-how her poor heart beats-fhe enters the apartments-not a foul !-fhe looks in the garden-not a foul !-Where is then Germain and Candor ?-Ah ! I hear them fpeak, and very loud Do-Heaven! the voice of Alexis! yes, it is his voice ;-Clara is more your daughter than Duverly's! Have compathon, my Father! Did Alexis pronounce thefe words? Oh! I'm certain it is his voice, cried Clara, quite moved! His voice! replied the marquis and his fpoufe; what, our fon's voice?

Now all three unable to guefs whence the founds proceeded, liften, without moving, and in the attitude of three statues.

At last, Clara cries, it is from the temple! Oh, come, come !-we fhall find them there.

The door was actually open. Clara, the marquis, and Arzelia, defcended with precipitation down the little fairs-fuddenly the faint glimmer of a lamp replace day-light;

VOL. XXLV.

73

and leave them only a very imperfect view of objects; - Alexis turns his head: Clara, cries he!-Alexis! there is your father!

Here, I feel my inability of defcribing with proper energy, the fudden fenfations of each of our refpective heroes. My pen is not fufficient to exprefs their furprife and tranfports. Can what happens in an inftant, admit of a long and tedious narration? My readers will form, themfelves, an idea of this picture, if they please to remember, that Candor finds again his dear Clara; Duverly, his daughter; the latter, her father, her benefactor, and her lover Alexis, a father, whom he had fo long panted for; the noble couple, a fon who had cost them fo many tears; in fhort, Germain, Dumont, &c. met again with dear friends of whom they had been fo long deprived.

What effufions of heart!-what questions !-Are you here?—Is it you?-You, my father !-My dear fon, &c. They were all speaking, and none did answer.-All their faculties were fufpended; their fouls felt too much for expreffion: they were clasped in each other's arms, in the sweetest rapture.

At last, Alexis, who was afraid left Dorance and Duverly should refume their former converfation, engaged every body to leave that difmal place. They all gather, and join in a body: Clara, between the two enemies, Alexis between the marquis and marchionefs: Sciocco, lost in admiration; Domont and honeft John, both moved to the foul, clofe the rear, and our herées enter the garden, where they atk each other for an account of their adventures. How happy am I, faid Clara to Alexis, to have brought back your father-And how unhappy am I, to have reftored you to your own! Doft thou deferve fill, faithlefs men, that I fhould fhow the leaft concern for thee!-Ah! do not rebuke me,

L

Clari 1

Clara! It was against my own not lift his eyes upon a man, whose wifh I ferved the cruel Dorance!- friendship he had thus inhumanely Pray, what is become of the goaler's betrayed; he obferves filence, and wife, and that Sophia of Marseilles? is afraid to embrace his daughter, I do not comprehend you!-I know left he fhould fhock Dorance's feelall, ungrateful Alexis, I know all!ings, and folely yields to the sweet and am forry to have ever loved confidence, which the prefence of Alexis, Dumont, Sciocco, and John, infpire him with.

you.

Alexis endeavours to unravel the meaning of this difcourfe; but his father interrupts him: So I have found you, my dear fon!-Can you ftill love a father who has fo cruelly forfaken you in the inn at Valence? Ah! you are my father, and fill will be! You know me now, and foon will know my misfortunes, and thofe of Arzelia your tender mother! Ah! fir, how I feared for your life, breaks in Dumont !-Dear Dumont, have you then found my fon ?-how, how all these meetings are like fo many miracles!-Oh! replies Sciocco, what an irrefragable proof of the law of events!Why, fays Dumont, there is nothing aftonihing in these meetings :-What is furprising, is when feveral individuals find each other in a corner of the globe, where none of them had any business, where none of them was ⚫ called; but when we have a point of re-union-Did we not all look for each other?-did we not all repair to this place because we prefumed it fittest for us to meet than any other. Yes, replied Sciocco, é vero; but what makes it appear to me fo very ftrange, is, that we all arrived in one day. It is rather strange, if chance had brought it about. Otherwise you mean,that would have broke the great order, which would be morally impoñible.

Meanwhile Dorance glanced on Duverly with looks expreffive of fury and rage. This event which had fufpended Candor's refentment, had not extinguished it.-His foul indeed fostered no more bloody and cruel projects, but he cannot bear the fight of his enemy.-Duverly, actuated by fear and felf-diffidence, dare

Soon the whole troop reaches the grove which extends itself along the rivulet. There, every one fers down, and every one is requested to give an account of his adventures : Doubtless, thofe of the father of Alexis, were of the most interesting nature. Neither would the marquis fuffer any long intreaties. He places his fon between him and his spouse; they form a circle all around, and the marquis begins a narration, which the reader must have long ago defired, if he felt the least concern for the fate of a young man of nineteen, who neither knew the world nor his father, nor the mystery of his birth.

(To be continued.)

HINTS to young Married Women.

IT

the first year after marriage is the T has often been thought, that happieft of a woman's life. We must first fuppofe that he marries from motives of affection, or, what the world calls love; and, even, in this ca'e, the rule admits of many exceptions, and the encounters many difficulties. She has her husband's temper to study, his family to please, household cares to attend, and what is worfe than all, fhe must cease to command, and learn to obey. She must learn to fubmit without repining, where the has been used to imve even her looks studied.

Would the tender lover treat his adored mistress like a rational being, rather than a goddefs, a woman's task would be rendered much easier,

and

31

Hints to young Married Women.

75

and her life much happier. Would | drefs, and vices of every denomination. The poor wife's fortune will fupply the rake with thefe fashionable follies a little longer. When money, the last refource, fails, he becomes peevish, four, and difcontented: angry that the can indulge him no longer, and ungrateful and regardlefs of her pait favours. Difeafe, with all her miferable attendants, next steps in! ill is he pre

the flatterer pay his devoirs to her understanding, rather than her perfon, he would foon find his account in it. Would he confult her on his affairs, converse with her freely upon all fubjects, and make her his companion and friend, inftead of flattering her beauty, admiring her drefs, and exalting beyond what human nature merits, for what can at best beonly called fashionable accomplish-pared, either in body or mind, to ments, he would find himself lefs difappointed, and fhe would rattle the marriage chains with lefs impatience and difficulty. Now, can a fenfible man expect that the poor vain trifler, to whom he pays fo much court, fhould make an intelligent, agreeable companion, an affiduous and careful wife, a fond and anxious mother?

When a man pays court only to a woman's vanity, he can expect nothing but a fashionable wife, who may thine as a fine lady, but never in the fofter intercourfe of domestic endearments. How often is it owing to these lords of the creation, that the poor women become, in reality, what their ridiculous partiality made them fuppofe themselves? A pretty method, that is of improving the temper, informing the mind, engaging the affections, and exciting our esteem, for thofe objects that we entrust with our future happiness.

I will now give my fair friends a few hints with regard to their conduct, in the most respectable of all characters, a wife, a mother, a friend. But first let me affert, and I do it with confidence, that nothing can be more falfe, than the idea that "a reformed rake makes the best hufband!" this is a common opinion, but it is not mine: at leaft, there are too many chances against it.

A libertine, by the time he can bear to think of matrimony, has little left to boast but a fhattered conflitution, empty pockets, tradesmen's bills, bad habits, and a tafte fer

cope with pain, fickness, poverty, and wretchednefs. The poor wife has spent her all in fupporting his extravagances. She may now pine for want, with a helpless infant crying for bread: fhunned and def pifed by her friends, and neglected by her acquaintancé.

This, my beloved fair, is too often the cafe with many of our fex, The task of reforming a rake is much above our capacity. I wish our inclinations, in this inftance, were as limited as our abilities: but alas! we vainly imagine we shall be rewarded for our refolution, in making fuch trial, by the fuccefs that will attend our undertaking.

If a young woman marries an amiable and virtuous young man, fhe has nothing to fear; the may even glory in giving up her own. wishes to his! never marry a man whofe understanding will not excite your esteem, and whofe virtues will not engage your affections. If a woman once thinks herself fuperior to her husband, all authority ceases, and the cannot be brought to obey, where the thinks he is fo well entitled to command.

Sweetness and gentleness are a woman's eloquence; and fometimes they are too powerful to be refifted, efpecially when accompanied with youth and beauty. They are then incitements to virtue, preventatives from vice, and affection's fecurity.

Never let your brow be clouded with refentment! never triumph in revenge! who is it that you afflict?

the

the man upon earth that should be dearest to you! upon whom all your future hopes of happiness muft depend. Poor the conqueft, when our dearest friend must fuffer; and ungenerous must be the heart that can rejoice in fuch a victory.

of man.

Let your tears perfuade: thefe fpeak the most irreftible language, with which you can affail the heart But even thefe fweet fountains of fenfibility, must not flow too often, left they degenerate into weaknefs, and we lose our husband's efteem and affection, by the very me1 thods which were given us to insure them.

Study every little attention in

OULD that kind of love be

your perfon, manners, and drefs, kept alive, through the marCo

that you find pleafe. Never be negligent in your appearance becaufe you expect nobody but your husband. He is the perfon whom you fhould chiefly endeavour to oblige. Always make home agreeable to him: receive him with eafe, good humour, and chearfulness: but be cautious how you enquire too minutely into his affairs abroad. Betray neither fufpicion nor jealousy. Appear always gay and happy in his prefence. Be particularly attentive to his favourite friends, even if they intrude upon you. A welcome reception will, at all times, counterbalance indifferent fare. Treat his relations with refpect and affection: afk their advice in your household affairs, and always follow it when you can conftantly with propriety,

riage ftate, which makes the charms of a fingle one, the fovereign good would no longer be fought for; in the union of two faithful lovers it would be found; but reafon fhews us that this is impoffible, and experience informs us, that it ever was fo; we muft preferve it as long, and fupply it as happily, as we can.

When your prefent violence of paffion, however, fublides, and a more cool and tranquil affection takes its place, be not hafty to enfure your. felf as indifferent, or to lament yourfelf as unhappy; you have lost that only which it was impoffible to retain, and it were graceless, amid the pleasures of a profperous fummer, to regret the bloffoms of a tranfient fpring. Neither unwarily condemu Treat your husband with the most your bride's infipidity, till you have unreferved confidence, in every thing recollected, that no object, however that regards yourfelf; but never fublime, no found, however charmbetray your friend's letters or fecrets ing, can continue to tranfport us to him. This he cannot, and, indeed, with delight, when they no longer ought not to expect. If you do not ftrike us with novelty. The fkill to ufe him to it, he will never defire it. renovate the powers of pleating, is Be careful never to intrude upon his faid indeed, to be poffeffed by fome ftudies, or his pleafures: be always women in an eminent degree, but the glad to fee him, but do not be laugh-astifices of maturity are feldom feen ed at as a fond, foolish wife. Con- to adorn the innocence of youth; fine your endearments to your own you have made your choice, and. fire-fide. Do not let the young envy ought to approve it.

Satiety

Satiety follows quick upon the | you: but pray let her never fufpect that it grows lefs fo; that a woman will pardon an affront to her understanding much fooner than to her perfon, is well known; nor will any of us contradict the affertion. All our attainments, all our arts, are employed to gain and keep the heart of man; and what mortification can exceed the difappointment, if the end be not obtained? There is no reproof, however pointed, no punish. ment however fevere, that a woman of fpirit will not prefer to negle&t; and if fhe can endure it without complaint, it only proves that the means

heels of poffeffion and to be happy we must always have fomething in view. The perfon of your lady is already all your own, and will not grow more pleafing in your eyes, I doubt, though the reft of your fex will think her handfome for thefe dozen years. Turn therefore all your attention to her mind, which will daily grow brighter by polishing. Study fome eafy fcience together, and acquire a fimilarity of tastes, while you enjoy a community of pleafures. You will, by these means, have many images in common, and be freed from the neceffity of fepa-to make herfelf amends, by the rating to find amufement; nothing is fo cangerous to wedded love, as the poffibility of either being happy out of the company of the other; endeavour, therefore, to cement the prefent intimacy on every fide; let your wife never be kept ignorant of your income, your expences, your friendships or averfions; let her know your very faults, but make them amiable by your virtues; confider all concealment as a breach of fidelity; let her never have any thing to find out in your character, and remember, that from the moment one of the partners turn spy on the other, they have commenced a state of hoftility.

Seek not happiness in fingularity, and dread a refinement of wifdom as a deviation into folly. Liften not to thofe ages, who advife you always to fcorn the counfel of a wo, man, and if you comply with her requests pronounce you to be wiferidden. Think not any privation, except of pofitive evil, an excel'ence, and do not congratulate yourself that your wife is not a learned lady, that the never touches a card, or is wholly ignorant how to make a pudding. Cards, cookery, and learning, are all good in their places, and may be ufed with advantage.

I faid that the perfon of your lady would not grow more pleafing to

attention of others, for the lights of her husband. For this, and for every reafon, it behoves a married man not to let his politenefs fail, though his ardour may abate, but to retain, at leaft, that general civility towards his own lady, which he is fo willing to pay every other, and not fhew his wife that every man in company can treat her with more complaifance, than he who so often vowed to her eternal fondness.

It is not my opinion that a young woman fhould be indulged in every wild with of her gay heart, or giddy head; but contradictions may be foftened by domeftic kinduefs, and quiet pleafures fubftituted in the place of noify ones. Public amufements are nor, indeed, fo expensive as are fometimes imagined, but they tend to alienate the minds of married people from each other. A well chofen fociety of friends and acquaintance, more eminent for virtue and good fenfe, than for gaiery and fplen. dor, where the converfation of the day may afford comment for the evening, feems the moft rational pleasure we can enjoy; and to this, a game of cards now and then gives an additional relish.“

A word or two on jealoufy may not be amils; for, though not a failing of the prefent age's growth, yet the feeds of it are toe certainly

fown