n actor in the same company
was visited by the apothecary of the place in an ague-fit, who, on
asking his landlady as to his way of life, was told that the poor
gentleman was very quiet and gave little trouble, that he generally
had a plate of mashed potatoes for his dinner, and lay in bed most of
his time, repeating his part. A young couple, every way amiable and
deserving, were to have been married, and a benefit-play was bespoke
by the officers of the regiment quartered there, to defray the expense
of a licence and of the wedding-ring, but the profits of the night did
not amount to the necessary sum, and they have, I fear, "virgined it
e'er since!" Oh for the pencil of Hogarth or Wilkie to give a view of
the comic strength of the company at ----, drawn up in battle-array in
the Clandestine Marriage, with a _coup d'oeil_ of the pit, boxes, and
gallery, to cure for ever the love of the _ideal_, and the desire to
shine and make holiday in the eyes of others, instead of retiring
within ourselves and keeping our wishes and our thoughts at home!

Even in the common affairs of life, in love, friendship, and marriage,
how little security have we when we trust our happiness in the hands
of others! Most of the friends I have seen have turned out the
bitterest enemies, or cold, uncomfortable acquaintance. Old companions
are like meats served up too often that lose their relish and their
wholesomeness. He who looks at beauty to admire, to adore it, who
reads of its wondrous power in novels, in poems, or in plays, is not
unwise: but let no man fall in love, for from that moment he is "the
baby of a girl." I like very well to repeat such lines as these in the
play of Mirandola--

--"With what a waving air she goes
Along the corridor. How like a fawn!
Yet statelier. Hark! No sound, however soft,
Nor gentlest echo telleth when she treads,
But every motion of her shape doth seem
Hallowed by silence"--

but however beautiful the description, defend me from meeting with the
original!

"The fly that sips treacle
Is lost in the sweets;
So he that tastes woman
Ruin meets."

The song is Gay's, not mine, and a bitter-sweet it is.--How few out of
the infinite number of those that marry and are given in marriage, wed
with those they would prefer to all the world; nay, how far the
greater proportion are joined together by mere motives of convenience,
accident, recommendation of frie