 taught to despise.  Love, the passion most natural to the sensibility of youth, has lost the plaintive dignity he once possessed, for the unmeaning simper of a dangling coxcomb; and the only serious concern, that of a dowry, is settled, even amongst the beardless leaders of the dancing-school.  The Frivolous and the Interested (might a satirist say) are the characteristical features of the age; they are visible even in the essays of our philosophers.  They laugh at the pedantry of our fathers, who complained of the times in which they lived; they are at pains to persuade us how much those were deceived; they pride themselves in defending things as they find them, and in exploding the barren sounds which had been reared into motives for action.  To this their style is suited; and the manly tone of reason is exchanged for perpetual efforts at sneer and ridicule.  This I hold to be an alarming crisis in the corruption of a state; when not only is virtue declined, and vice prevailing, but when the praises of virtue are forgotten, and the infamy of vice unfelt.”

They soon after arrived at the next inn upon the route of the stage-coach, when the stranger told Harley, that his brother’s house, to which he was returning, lay at no great distance, and he must therefore unwillingly bid him adieu.

“I should like,” said Harley, taking his hand, “to have some word to remember so much seeming worth by: my name is Harley.”

“I shall remember it,” answered the old gentleman, “in my prayers; mine is Silton.”

And Silton indeed it was!  Ben Silton himself!  Once more, my honoured friend, farewell! - Born to be happy without the world, to that peaceful happiness which the world has not to bestow!  Envy never scowled on thy life, nor hatred smiled on thy grave.



CHAPTER XXXIV - HE MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE



When the stage-coach arrived at the place of its destination, Harley began to consider how he should proceed the remaining part of his journey.  He was very civilly accosted by the master of the inn, who offered to accommodate him either with a post-chaise or horses, to any distance he had a mind: but as he did things frequently in a way different from what other people call natural, he refused these offers, and set out immediately a-foot, having first put a spare shirt in his pocket, and given directions for the forwarding of his portmanteau.  This was a method of travelling which he was accustomed to take: it
