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make a figure with it. But the ill health of my wife, which in less easy circumstances had not touched me so nearly, was now constantly in my thoughts, and soured all my enjoyments. The consciousness, too, of having such an estate to leave my boy, made me so anxious to preserve him, that, instead of suffering him to run at pleasure, where he pleased, and grow hardy by exercise, I almost destroyed him by confinement. We now did nothing in our garden, because we were in circumstances to have it kept by others; but as air and exercise were necessary for our healths, we resolved to abridge ourselves in some unnecessary articles, and to set up an equippage. This, in time, brought with it a train of expenses, which we had neither prudence to foresee, nor courage to prevent. For, as it enabled us to extend the circuit of our visits, it greatly increased our acquaintance, and subjected us to the necessity of making continual entertainments at home, in return for all those which we were invited to abroad. The charges that attended this new manner of living, were much too great for the income we possessed; insomuch that we found ourselves, in a very short time, more necessitous than ever. Pride would not suffer us to lay down our equippage; and to live in a manner unsuitable to it, was what we could not bear to think of. To pay the debts we had contracted, I was soon forced to mortgage, and at last to sell, the best part of my estate; and as it was "tterly impossible to keep up the parade any longer, we thought it advisable to remove on a sudden, to sell our coach in town, and to look out for a new situation, at a greater distance from our acquaintance.
But unfortunately for my peace, I carried the habit of expense along with me, and was very near being reduced to absolute want, when, by the unexpected death of an uncle and his two sons, who died within a few weeks of each other, I succeeded to an estate of seven thousand pounds a year.
And now, Mr. Fitz Adam, both you and your readers will undoubtedly call me a very happy man; and so indeed I was. I set about the regulation of my family with the most pleasing satisfaction. The splendor of my equippages, the magnificence of my plate, the crowd
of servants that attended me, the elegance of my house and furniture, the grandeur of my park and gardens, the luxury of my table, and the court that was every where paid me, gave inexpressible delight, so long as they were novelties; but no sooner were they become habitual to me, than I lost all manner of relish for them; and I discovered, in a little time, that, by having nothing to wish for, I had nothing to enjoy. My appetite grew palled by satiety, a perpetual crowd of visitors robbed me of all my domestic enjoyment, my servants plagued me, and my steward cheated me.
But the curse of greatness did not end here. Daily experience convinced me that I was compelled to live more for others than myself. My uncle had been a great party man, and a zealous opposer of all ministerial measures and as his estate was the largest of any gentleman's in the country, he supported an interest in it, beyond any of his competitors. My father had been greatly obliged by the court party, which determined me in gratitude to declare myself on that side; but the diffi-. culties I had to encounter, were too many and too great for me insomuch that I have been baffled and defeated in almost every thing I have undertaken. To desert the cause I have embarked in, would disgrace me, and to go greater lengths in it would undo me. I am enga ged in a perpetual state of warfare with the principal gentry of the country, and am cursed by my tenants and dependants, for compelling them, at every election, to vote (as they are pleased to tell me) contrary to their
My wife and I had once pleased ourselves with the thought of being useful to the neighborhood, by dealing out our charity to the poor & industrious; but the perpet ual hurry in which we live,renders us incapable of looking out for objects ourselves; and the agents we intrust are either pocketing our bounty, or bestowing it on the undeserving. At night, when we retire to rest, we are venting our complaints on the miseries of the day, and praying heartily for the return of that peace, which was only the companion of our humblest situation.
This, sir, is my history; and if you give it a place in your paper, it may serve to inculcate this important truth-that where pain, sickness and absolute want are
out of the question, no external change of circumstances can make a man more lastingly happy than he was before. It is to the ignorance of this truth, that the universal dissatisfaction of mankind is principally to be ascribed. Care is the lot of life; and he that aspires to greatness in hopes to get rid of it, is like one who throws himself into a furnace to avoid the shivering of the ague.
The only satisfaction I can enjoy in my present situation is, that it has not pleased heaven, in its wrath, to make me a king.
V.-Battle of Pharsalia and Death of Pompey.-
S the armies approached, the two generals went from rank to rank encouraging their troops. Pompey represented to his men,that the glorious occasion which they had long besought him to grant, was now before them; "and indeed," cried he, "What advantages could you wish over an enemy, that you are not new possessed of? Your numbers, your vigor, a late victory, all ensure a speedy and an easy conquest over these harrassed and broken troops, composed of men worn out with age, and impressed with the terrors of a recent defeat: But there is a still stronger bulwark for our protection, than the superiority of our strength-the justice of our cause. You are engaged in the defence of liberty, and of your country. You are supported by its laws, and followed by its magistrates. You have the world spectators of your conduct, and wishing you success.-On the contrary, he whom you oppose is a robber and oppressor of his country, and almost already sunk with the consciousness of his crimes, as well as the bad success of his arms. Show then, on this occasion, all that ardor and detestation of tyranny, that should animate Romans, and do justice to mankind." Cesar, on his side, went among his men with that steady serenity, for which he was so much admired in the midst of danger. He insisted on nothing so strongly, to his soldiers, as his frequent and unsuccessful endeavors for peace. He talked with terror on the blood he was going to shed, and pleaded only the necessity that urged him to it. He deplored the many brave men that were to fall on both
sides, and the wounds of his country, whoever should be victorious. His soldiers answered his speech with loeks of ardor and impatience; which observing, he gave the signal to begin. The word on Pompey's side, was Hercules the invincible; that on Cesar's, Venus the victorious. There was only so much space between both armies, as to give room for fighting; wherefore, Pompey ordered his men to receive the first shock, without moving out of their places, expecting the enemy's ranks to be put into disorder by their motion. Cesar's soldiers were now rushing on with their usual impetuosity, when perceiving the enemy motionless, they all stopt short, as if by general consent, and halted in the midst of their career. A terrible pause ensued, in which both armies continued to gaze upon each other with mutual terror. At length, Cesar's men, having taken breath, ran furiously upon the enemy, first discharging their javelins, and then drawing their swords. The same method was observed by Pompey's troops, who as vigorously opposed the attack. His cavalry, also, were ordered to charge on the very onset, which, with the multitude of archers and slingers, soon obliged Cesar's men to give ground; whereupon, Cesar immediately ordered the six cohorts, that were placed as a reinforcement, to advance, with orders to strike at the enemy's faces. This had its desired effect. The cavalry, that were but just now sure of victory, received an immediate check; the unusual method of fighting pursued by the cohorts, their aiming entirely at the visages of the assailants, and the horrible disfiguring wounds they made, all contributed to mtimidate them so much, that, instead of defending their persons, their only endeavor was to save their faces. A total rout ensued of their whole body, which fled in great disorder to the neighboring mountains, while the archers and slingers, who were thus abandoned, were cut to pieces. Cesar now commanded the cohorts to pursue their success, and advancing, charged Pompey's troops upon the flank. This charge the enemy withstood for some time with great bravery, till he brought up his third line,which had not yet engaged. Pompey's infantry, being thus doubly attacked in front by fresh troops, and in rear by the victorious cohorts, could no longer resist, but fled to their camp. The right wing, how
ever, still valiantly maintained their ground. But Cesar being now convinced that the victory was certain, with his usual clemency, cried out, to pursue the strangers, and to spare the Romans; upon which they all laid down their arms, and received quarter. The greatest slaughter was among the auxiliaries, who fled on all quarters, but principally went for safety to the camp. The battle had now lasted from the break of day till noon, although the weather was extremely hot, the conquerors, however, did not remit their ardor, being encouraged by the example of their general, who thought his victory not complete till he became master of the enemy's camp. Accordingly, marching on foot, at their head, he called upon them to follow, and strike the decisive blow. The cohorts which were left to defend the camp, for some time made a formidable resistance, particularly a great number of the Thracians, and other barbarians, who were appointed for its defence; but nothing could resist the ardor of Cesar's victorious army; they were at last driven from their retrenches, and all fled to the mountains, not far off. Cesar seeing the field and camp strewed with his fallen countrymen, was strongly affected at so melancholy a prospect, and could not help crying out, to one that stood near him, "They would have it so." Upon entering the enemy's camp, every object presented fresh instances of the blind presumption and madness of his adversaries. On all sides were to be seen tents adorned with ivy, and branches of myrtles, couches covered with purple, and sideboards loaded with plate. Every thing gave proofs of the highest luxury, and seemed rather the preparatives for a banquet, the rejoicings for a victory, than the dispositions for a battle.
As for Pompey, who had formerly shown such instances of courage and conduct, when he saw his cavalry routed, on which he had placed his sole dependance, he absolutely lost his reason. Instead of thinking how to remedy this disorder, by rallying such troops as fled, or by opposing fresh troops to stop the progress of the conquerors, being totally amazed by this unexpected blow, he returned to the camp, and, in his tent, waited the issue of an event, which it was his duty to direct, not to fol