duality, and Nothing could be fo altogether a Failure as to describe them otherwife. But the Clafs, now almost departed from our Sight, must be clearly distinguished from that paffable Notion and Definition, as Barrow speaks in that exquifite Sermon "Of Industry, in our particular Callings as Gentlemen,"-What is a Gentleman but his Pleasure?

And this Chapter may be closed in his pertinent and expreffive Words. "If this be true, if a Gentleman be Nothing else but this, then truly he is a fad Piece, the most inconfiderable, the most despicable, the most pitiful, wretched Creature in the World: if it is his Privilege to do Nothing, it is his Privilege to be moft unhappy; and to be fo will be his Fate, if he live according to it; for he that is of no Worth or Ufe, who produceth no beneficial Fruit, who performeth no Service to God or the World, what Title can he have to Happiness? What Capacity thereof? What Reward can he claim? What Comfort can he feel? To what Temptation is he expofed! What Guilts will he incur!"

Well faid good ISAAC BARROW!

Attachment of the People to the Old
Squires.

"Loke who that is moft virtuous alwaye,
Prive and apert, and moft entendeth aye
To do the gentil Dedes that he can,
And take him for the greteft Gentilman!"

VERY Chip," faid old THOMAS JONES, One Day to his young Maffter, "wont make a Felly for a Wheel," and he added, " it takes a good deal to make an OLD SQUIRE, after the old Stroke." The Occafion of the Remark was, that a young Man had purchased an Estate in the Neighbourhood; well enough in his Way, and far from ill-difpofed, but mainly ignorant of Country-customs and the deep-feated Feelings of Country-people. His Notion was, that if he paid higher than his Neighbours, and was lavish in the Butler's Hall, it was all that was needed

CHAUCER, Canterbury Tales.

DONNE'S Ser

mons, lxxx. P. 823. Folio.

to command Respect, or, at least, to settle him in the Pofition he had ignorantly taken up. But old THOMAS JONES thought otherwise, and it was a Relief to him to make his Thoughts known. It might be, as one faid, that “a Merchant condensed, kneaded, and packed up in a great Estate, becomes a Lord," but no Procruftean Fashion of Fortune's packing could make one of the good OLD SQUIRES! DICK BEAUCLERK, an excellent Scholar and no Pedant, told his Tutor, after a long Vacation's thorough Enjoyment, that the old Saw of "Poeta nafcitur, non fit," was truer of the highbred Country-gentleman, than of any Poet he had ever read of! The Fact is, that without throwing away his Time, he had spent the long Vacation alluded to in one of the oldfashioned midland Counties, where there dwelt amongst his own People one of those OLD SQUIRES Whofe Heart was bound up in their Interests, and so attached were they to him and his Family, that his Word was Law. "The Squire faid fo, and it must be done"-" If it were not beft he had not faid fo," were remarks that DICK BEAUCLERK was fure to hear from Day to Day, whether he fished the Stream where the best Trouts were to be found, or looked to

the young Coveys with the Gamekeeper, or liftened to the Huntsman's Account of the promifing Puppies in the Pack, or talked with WILL WHIPCRACK about the beautiful Bay Colt juft rifing five.

It was from liftening to fuch casual Talk that DICK BEAUCLERK was led to look more into the inner Life of the OLD SQUIRE, and before he returned again to Christ-Church, (he had waited, by the way, just to have a Rap at the Pheasants, at the OLD SQUIRE'S earnest Solicitation,) he had full Occafion to know, that apparently without an Effort, he was the Author and Originator of half the Good that was done in the Neighbourhood. And then, as regards the Parish in which he lived, his Purse was at the Parfon's Command, and his Kitchen at the Poor's. His Name was at the Head of all charitable Institutions, and although it appeared that there were many Names on the Subfcription-lifts to the Clothing, and the Dorcas, and other Societies ufual in Country-districts, yet it was well known that the Bulk of the Contributions came from the good Old Gentleman's Purse. As for the Parochial and Sundayschools, those he supported altogether, there being no available Funds for them near at Hand.

Foreign Helps," he used to say, were rather Crutches than Legs." The only Drawback that DICK BEAUCLERK faw to the OLD SQUIRE'S Proceedings, was, that he was fomewhat arbitrary and cholerick. If a Thing was not done to his Pleasure, he would rap out a round Oath,-faying as quick as Lightning, "God forgive me!" Befides this, he was eafily put out of Temper with the young Upstarts between Eighteen and Twenty, who were in a fort of Transition-ftate. Thefe, he feared, from their want of Manner, would seriously injure the District in which he lived. Upon one Occafion, it was confidently affirmed, despite his magifterial Office, that the worthy Man quietly got off his Cob, and luftily thrashed the greatest Bully in the Neighbourhood, because he did not touch his Hat to him. "I thought it right to do fo," he said, taking the Bridle from his Companion's Hand, " because that lubberly Lout is teaching my People to be difrefpectful, and when Country-people once lofe Refpect for their Benefactors, the next Step is to lofe Self-refpect." These, and other like little Ebullitions rather puzzled DICK BEAUCLERK, and he was halfsurprised that some mischievous Intermeddler did not take the Law of the OLD SQUIRE,