Accordingly it has been found that the severest laws have not suppressed the practice of duelling.

But if a court were instituted for the express purposé of investigating the circumstances which gave rise to every duel, with power to punish him who, from wantonness, pride, or malignity, had, to the conviction of the court, behaved in such a manner as would justify a gentleman for having recourse to the only means in his power to efface the affront, perhaps such an institution would have a more powerful effect in preventing duels, than attaching the punishment to the challenger or survivor, who possibly may be the least guilty.

Although the survivor only can be personally punished, yet, if he who is killed is clearly proved to have been the cause of the duel, by giving the first insult, besides ac quitting the survivor, some stigma ought to be put, by the sentence of the court, on the memory of the deceased.

If such an institution did not entirely abolish the practice of duelling, it would assuredly render it less frequent. It would also render men more cautious of giving of fence, and would bring to public notoriety and shame all those pests of society who are continually involved in quarrels, whether from an overbearing spirit to insult others, or from a childish disposition to take offence with

out cause.

I was detained at Munich by Lord P

longer than I intended. When we separated I went to Dresden. What happened there will be the subject of my next. Farewell!

J. MORDAUNT.

LETTER XXV.

From the Same in Continuation.

Vevay

Soon after my arrival at Dresden, Mr. Grindill called on me-the same that we used to see at Lady Deanport's, whose intimate friend and great adviser he was supposed

to be. Before her ladyship's marriage, he was a constant hanger on of my lord: the world imagined that it was by Grindill's influence with his lordship that the marriage was brought about. However that may be, Mr. Grindill continued upon an intimate footing with both till the death of the latter. Few men could boast a more extensive acquaintance than Grindill, among the great and opu lent: he never cultivated any other. In the course of this cultivation he dissipated his fortune. Becoming dis tressed in his circumstances, he found that many, who formerly had no objection to being called his friends, now shunned being considered even as his acquaintance. His ereditors were troublesome, and he left England.

He made a good deal up to me at my arrival at Dres den. I certainly never had shown any partiality for the acquaintance of Grindill; but in the circumstances I understood he was then in, I did not choose to show him such marks of neglect as perhaps I might otherwise have done.

I should not however, have gone such lengths in serving him as I did, had I not heard of his acting a very friend ly part to a young painter of the name of Evans, then at Dresden. This young man has great merit in his profession, and is, besides, of an excellent character. Grindill recommended him to all his acquaintance; and I told him that I would introduce him to the acquaintance of some eminent artists with whom I was connected, when he should return to London. He thanked me for the honour I intended him, but in a manner that made me think he was not very solicitous that I should take the trouble.'Do you not imagine,' said I, that their friendship could be of service to a young artist like you?'

It certainly would,' answered he adding, with a smile- I already have the honour to be known to some of them; but I am afraid it is not the artist, but the arts, that are friends.'

I then assured him that I should be happy to serve him myself when he came to London; and that I should t introduce him to those of my friends who were not artists.

Grindill's behavour to this young man, who was poor and friendless, gave me a more favourable opinion of Mr. Grindill himself than I had before.

He took an opportunity of telling me, that a relation of his, who had a good estate in South Wales, and whose heir-at-law he was, laboured under a distemper which nobody thought he could survive; that this relation, he understood, was surrounded by interested people, who might take the advantage of his absence, and suggest things to his prejudice; that it was, therefore, of infinite importance to him that he should return immediately to England to cultivate his interest with the invalid; but that he had contracted debts at Dresden, and could not think of leaving it without paying them; that, although he had assurances of not being disturbed, by the generality of his creditors in England, one to whom he owed £500 stood out; and that he was in need of a thousand pounds, without which he could not leave Dresden, with credit, nor appear with safety in England.'

On my hinting a little surprise that his friends Lord and Lady Deanport did not assist him in such an emergency, he answered That Lady Deanport was in pecuniary difficulties herself; that she had been unfortunate at play ; that her husband had, at his death, left her provided for in a manner far inferior to her expectations; that her son, when he came of age, had not supplied the deficiency to her satisfaction.'-Grindill added, That her ladyship had not allowed her son to be crossed in any thing that depended upon her, during a very long childhood, in the expectation of having the entire management of him, when the law should consider him as a man: but when that period arrived, finding him less tractable than she expect→ ed, the most amiable of boys, and of youths, became at once, in her eyes, a monster of ingratitude.'

By the way, Sommers, this complete alteration of opinion in parents, respecting the characters of their children, I myself have observed in several instances, and all of them in mothers towards those whom they had most indulged.

Mr. Grindill, however, assured me, that, through his means, Lady Deanport and her son came to a more friendly way of thinking before he went abroad, and continued so all the time he was on his travels. I understood from him also, that Lady Deanport, who always has some project in agitation, was endeavouring to accomplish a marriage between her son and the wealthy Miss Moyston. This will give him, she imagines, such an accumulation of riches, that part mast overflow upon herself, and at the same time augment his parliamentary! influence, so as to become beneficial to all the friends of his family, and particularly to Grindill himself.

This intelligence was thrown out in different conversa tions, with the intention, no doubt, of inducing me to agree to the concluding request, that I should advance him the money. What determined me, however, was what Grindill insisted least upon; namely, his kindness! to the young painter, and my plainly seeing that no other person would lend him if I did not, for the poor devil has not a friend in the world; I furnished him, therefore, with what he wanted.

I believe I have drawn all the money I had with Messrs. Be so good as sell three thousand pounds of what I have in the three per cents. and place it in their hands. Do not let old Nichols know any thing of this; he bought it for me a third higher than the present price it would disturb his sleep for a month.

Ben's illness was so far fortunate that it prevented our setting out in very bad weather. We have had another thunder-storm, not, indeed, so furious as the former, but sufficiently so to make travelling very disagreeable. I have employed most part of the interval in complying with your requisition. Ben is now recovered perfectly. We shall, assuredly, set out to-morrow. Adieu !

J. MORDAUNT.

!

VOL. VII.

LETTER XXVII.

From the Same to the Same.

Frankfort.

FROM the conclusion of my last, you would naturally imagine that I left Vevay directly; that, however, was not the case-I stayed there three days after the date of that letter.

How then came I not to write?

As I have so often confessed to you the real cause of my having of late become so very indefatigable a scrib bler, that is a question which you may naturally ask: to which, my dear colonel, I must give you an answer quite the reverse of what a young woman of Amsterdam made to her mother, who asked her, how she came to be with child? Because,' replied this industrious girl, I had nothing else to do.'

My reason for not writing to you during that time, my good friend, was because I had something else to do.

But before I inform you what that was, I beg you may. take notice, that though I, a bachelor, and determined for ever to remain such, can derive no benefit from the above anecdote, you, a married man,, with the prospect of a numerous progeny, may.-Is it not a serious warning to parents not to permit their daughters to remain a moment in idleness, but to take care always to give them something to do? You see, Sommers, I wish to make my letters moral as well as entertaining.

I now proceed to tell you how I have been employed since my last.

Having been assured that the chaise would be ready within three hours, as the weather had become exceeding ly fine, immediately after the storm, I sauntered a little out of the town. On turning the corner of a hedge, I met two women; one seemed between thirty and forty years of age, the other not more than three or four-and-twenty, of