countenance had lost its sadness, and assumed the glow of faith and hope.-Mr. followed him into his house.-The inspiration of the pulpit was past; at sight of him the scenes they had last met in rushed again on his mind; La Roche threw his arms round his neck, and watered it with his tears. The other was equally affected; they went together, in silence, into the parlour where the evening service was wont to be performed.-The curtains of the organ were open; La Roche started back at the sight. -Oh! my friend!' said he, and his tears burst forth again. Mr. had now recollected himself; he stepped forward and drew the curtain close-the old man wiped off his tears, and taking his friend's hand, You see my weakness,' said he,'tis the weakness of humanity; but my comfort is not therefore lost. —I heard you,' said the other, in the pulpit; I rejoice that such consolation is yours. It is, my friend,' said he, and I trust I shall ever hold it fast;-if there are any who doubt our faith, let them think of what importance religion is to calamity, and forbear to weaken its force; if they cannot restore our happiness, let them not take away the solace of our affliction.'

6

Mr. -'s heart was smitten; and I have heard him, long after, confess that there were moments when the remembrance overcame him even to weakness; when, amidst all the pleasures of philosophical discovery, and the pride of literary fame, he recalled to his mind the venerable figure of the good La Roche, and wished that he had never doubted.

Z.

No. 45. TUESDAY, JUNE 29, 1779.

Is he a man of fashion? is the usual question on the appearance of a stranger, or the mention of a person with whom we are unacquainted. But though this phrase be in the mouth of every body, I have often found people puzzled when they attempted to give an idea of what they meant by it; and, indeed, so many and so various are the qualities that enter into the composition of a modern man of fashion, that it is difficult to give an accurate definition or a just description of him. Perhaps he may, in the general, be defined, a being who possesses some quality or talent which entitles him to be received into every company; to make one in all parties, and to associate with persons of the highest rank and the first distinction.

If this definition be just, it may be amusing to consider the different ideas that have prevailed, at different times, with regard to the qualities requisite to constitute a man of fashion. Not to go farther back, we are told by Lord Clarendon, that, in the beginning of the last century, the men of rank were distinguished by a stately deportment, a dignified manner, and a certain stiffness of ceremonial, ad

mirably calculated to keep their inferiors at a proper distance. In those days, when pride of family prevailed so universally, it is to be presumed, that no circumstance could atone for the want of birth. Neither riches nor genius, knowledge nor ability, could then have entitled their possessor to hold the rank of a man of fashion, unless he fortunately had sprung from an ancient and honourable family. The immense fortunes which we are now accustomed to see acquired, almost instantaneously, were then unknown. In imagination, however, we may fancy what an awkward appearance a modern nabob, or contractor, would have made in a circle of these proud and high-minded nobles. With all his wealth, he would have been treated as a being of a different species; and any attempt to imitate the manners of the great, or to rival them in expense and splendour, would only have served to expose him the more to ridicule and contempt.

As riches, however, increased in the nation, men became more and more sensible of the solid advantages they brought along with them; and the pride of birth gradually relaxing, monied men rose proportionally into estimation. The haughty lord, or proud country gentleman, no longer scrupled to give his daughter in marriage to an opulent citizen, or to repair his ruined fortune by uniting the heir. of his title or family with a rich heiress, though of plebeian extraction.' These connexions daily becoming more common, removed, in some measure, the distinction of rank; and every man possessed of a certain fortune came to think himself entitled to be treated as a gentleman, and received as a man of fashion. Above all, the happy expedient of purchasing seats in parliament tended to add weight and consideration to what came to be called the monied

interest. When a person who had suddenly acquired an enormous fortune could find eight or ten proper, well-dressed, gentleman-like figures ready to vote for him as his proxies in the House of Commons, it is not surprising, that, in his turn, he should come to look down on the heirs of old established families, who could neither cope with him in influence at court, nor vie with him in show and ostentation.

About the beginning of this century, there seems to have been an intermediate, though short interval, when genius, knowledge, talents, and elegant accomplishments, entitled their possessor to hold the rank of a man of fashion, and were even deemed essentially requisite to form that character. The society of Swift, Pope, Gay, and Prior, was courted by all; and, without the advantages of high birth, or great fortune, an Addison and a Craggs attained the first offices in the state.

In the present happy and enlightened age, neither birth nor fortune, superior talents, nor superior abilities, are requisite to form a man of fashion. On the contrary, all these advantages united are insufficient to entitle their owners to hold that rank, while we daily see numbers received as men of fashion, though sprung from the meanest of the people, and though destitute of every grace, of every polite accomplishment, and of all pretensions to genius or ability.

This, I confess, I have often considered as one of the greatest and most important improvements in modern manners. Formerly it behoved every person born in obscurity, who wished to rise into eminence, either to acquire wealth by industry or frugality, or, following a still more laborious and difficult pursuit, to distinguish himself by the exertion of superior talents in the field or in the senate. But now nothing

of all this is necessary. A certain, degree of know

ledge the man of fashion must indeed possess.

He

must be master of the principles contained in the celebrated treatise of Mr. Hoyle; he must know the chances of hazard; he must be able to decide on any dispute with regard to the form of a hat, or the fashion of a buckle; and he must be able to tell my lady duchess whether Marechalle powder suits best a brown or a fair complexion.

From the equipage, the dress, the external show of a modern man of fashion, a superficial observer might be apt to think that fortune, at least, is a necessary article; but a proper knowledge of the world teaches us the contrary. A man of fashion must, indeed, live as if he were a man of fortune. He must rival the wealthiest in expense of every kind; he must push to excess every species of extravagant dissipation; and he must game for more money than he can pay. But all these things a man of fashion can do, without possessing any visible revenue whatever. This, though perhaps the most important, is not the only advantage which the man of fashion enjoys over the rest of mankind. Not to mention that he may seduce the daughter and corrupt the wife of his friend, he may also, with perfect honour, rob the son of that friend of his whole fortune in an evening; and it is altogether immaterial that the one party was intoxicated and the other sober, that the one was skilled in the game and the other ignorant of it; for if a young man will play in such circumstances, who but himself can be blamed for the consequences?

The superiority enjoyed by a man of fashion, in his ordinary dealings and intercourse with mankind, is still more marked. He may without any impeachment on his character, and with the nicest regard to his honour, do things which, in a common man,