.oco 



ANNUAL REGISTEH, 1805. 



tlic Tillage, which was resorted to by 

 a great number of young country- 

 men and women, wJio v,cre alter- 

 wards entertained at the scat. I 

 listened to several loving couples, 

 and althouiih (gaining somewhat 

 more experience) I clearly saw that, 

 amongst those unmannerly cIoh ns, 

 love was no less tender and vehe- 

 ment than amongst the best educated : 

 ktiJl their maimer of expressing it 

 appeared to me un^ciitle and even 

 loathsome, and I was willing to be- 

 lieve that if it made any impression 

 on the iivnds of the women, it siiould 

 be wholly ascribed to their being 

 equally v»id of sense and delicacy. 



My seeing these matters in this 

 light, was because 1 did not compare 

 their courtship to nature, but to the 

 aforesaid politeness of fashionable 

 gallants. However 1 soon correct- 

 f d niy mistake, and learnt that love, 

 which so often makes tlu; most 

 .shrewd dull, as often renders the 

 Tuost innocent subtle ; and causes 

 talents to appear which hud till then 

 !;iia dormant, and unknown even to 

 themselves. As soon as tliat aU- 

 c<mquering passion has taken pos. 

 session of the heart, it immediately 

 banishes from thence all rusticity, 

 at least towards the beloved object. 

 Never is it more eloquent, nor bet- 

 ter able to represent itself in the 

 most forcible and lively manner, 

 than when left entirely to itself, un- 

 eontrolled by flie understanding. It 

 then, by the expressions which its 

 cnerny creates, appears in its native 

 truth and sincerity, and can hardly 

 fail to make itself understood and 

 •fflt. The heart is interested, and 

 infallibly causes the beloved object 

 to attend to it. ■ Of this truth I not 

 long since found an agr;"eabie speci- 

 uien, which i shall endeavour to 

 paint in its true colours. 



Sitting one eyening in a parlour 

 next the street, at a window, in or- 

 der to enjoy a beautiful moonlight 

 night, 1 saw, from behind the blind, 

 without being seen myself, my next- 

 door neighbour's daughter, a sweet, 

 modest, and orderly young girl, 

 eighteen or nineteen years of age, 

 stand on the steps before her door, 

 with a stove under her apron, [a 

 stole is a small uvodcn box (a Jtolkrx 

 cube of ten inches) xeith holes in the 

 tup, contaiidi:g an earthen pan 

 ziifh lighted tiirj\ -ahich the zcomen in 

 Holland place wider their feet im:in- 

 tcr^'\ probably waiting for her mo- 

 ther, a worthy decent widow, who, 

 assisied by this her only child, cre- 

 ditably gained her living by needle- 

 work. While she was standing 

 there, a carpenter's apprentice, a 

 well-made young lad, apparently 

 not much older than the girl, but 

 somewhat clumsy, approached her, 

 with his hat in his hand, and vith 

 every sympton of bashfulness. She 

 immediately retreated towards the 

 door, a little surprised, when the 

 young man accosted her thus: — 

 Oil! neighbour, I beg you will not 

 be afraid of me ; I would not hurt 

 a cisild, much less you ; I only re- 

 quest, my dear girl, that you will 

 permit me to light my jiipe at your 

 stove. These words, spoken with a 

 trembling voice, and which rather 

 appeared to proceed from one who 

 was himself afraid, than who wished 

 to make others so, made Agnes easy. 

 O yes, friend, answered she, 'tis 

 much at your service, but what ails 

 you, you appear to be disordered. 

 (She then handed him the stove.) 

 That I am, my dear child, replied 

 he. and if you will allow me a few 

 minutes, I will fell you the reason. 

 In the mean time he was busy in at- 

 tempting to light his pipe as slowly 



as 



