Some fled his presence, all confess’d his power;
He sought affection, but received instead
Fear undisguised, and love-repelling dread;
He look’d around him—­“Harriet, dost thou love?”
“I do my duty,” said the timid dove;
“Good Heav’n, your duty! prithee, tell me now —
To love and honour—­was not that your vow? 
Come, my good Harriet, I would gladly seek
Your inmost thought—­Why can’t the woman speak? 
Have you not all things?”—­“Sir, do I complain?” —
“No, that’s my part, which I perform in vain;
I want a simple answer, and direct —
But you evade; yes! ’tis as I suspect. 
Come then, my children!  Watt! upon your knees
Vow that you love me.”—­“Yes, sir, if you please.” 
“Again!  By Heav’n, it mads me; I require
Love, and they’ll do whatever I desire: 
Thus too my people shun me; I would spend
A thousand pounds to get a single friend;
I would be happy—­I have means to pay
For love and friendship, and you run away: 
Ungrateful creatures! why, you seem to dread
My very looks; I know you wish me dead. 
Come hither, Nancy! you must hold me dear;
Hither, I say; why! what have you to fear? 
You see I’m gentle—­Come, you trifler, come: 
My God! she trembles!—­Idiot, leave the room! 
Madam; your children hate me; I suppose
They know their cue; you make them all my foes: 
I’ve not a friend in all the world—­not one: 
I’d be a bankrupt sooner; nay, ’tis done;
In every better hope of life I fail,
You’re all tormentors, and my house a jail. 
Out of my sight!  I’ll sit and make my will —
What, glad to go? stay, devils, and be still;
’Tis to your Uncle’s cot you wish to run,
To learn to live at ease and be undone;
Him you can love, who lost his whole estate,
And I, who gain you fortunes, have your hate;
’Tis in my absence you yourselves enjoy: 
Tom! are you glad to lose me? tell me, boy: 
Yes! does he answer?—­Yes! upon my soul;
No awe, no fear, no duty, no control! 
Away! away! ten thousand devils seize
All I possess, and plunder where they please! 
What’s wealth to me?—­yes, yes! it gives me sway,
And you shall feel it—­Go! begone, I say.” {4}

LETTER IX.

Interpone tuis interdum gaudia curis
Ut possis animo quemvis sufferre laborem. 
                                  Catullus
. . . .  Nostra fatiscat
Laxaturque chelys, vires instigat alitque
Tempestiva quies, major post otia virtus. 
                           Statius, Sylvae.

Jamque mare et tellus nullum discremen habebant;
Omnia pontus erant:  deerant quoque littora ponto. 
                               Ovid, Metamophoses.

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Amusements.

Common Amusements of a Bathing-place—­Morning Rides, Walks, &c.—­ Company resorting to the Town—­Different Choice of Lodgings—­Cheap Indulgences—­Seaside Walks—­Wealthy Invalid—­Summer evening on the Sands—­Sea Productions—­“Water parted from the Sea”—­Winter Views serene—­In what cases to be avoided—­Sailing upon the River—­A small Islet of Sand off the Coast—­Visited by Company—­Covered by the Flowing of the Tide—­Adventure in that place.