 Curiosity or merit his Inspection.
While the Coach was in waiting, and they All stood on the Hill, the great City being extended in ample View beneath them, Mr.
Fenton
exclaimed:  � O!
London, London,
thou Mausoleum of dead Souls, how pleasant art thou to the Eye, how beautiful in outward Prospect! but within how full of Rottenness and reeking Abominations! They Dealers are all Students in the Mystery of Iniquity, of Fraud and Imposition on Ignorance and Credulity. Thy public Offices are hourly exercised in Exactions and Extortion. Thy Courts of Judicature are busied in the Sale, the Delay, or Perversion of Justice, they are shut to the Injured and Indigent, but open to the wealthy Pleas of the Invader and Oppressor. Thy Magistracy is often employed in secretly countenancing and abetting the Breach of those Laws it was instituted to maintain. Thy Charities, subscribed for the Support of the Poor, are lavished by the Trustees in pampering the Rich, where Drunkenness swallows till it wallows, and Gluttony stuffs till it pants, and unbuttons and stuffs again. Even the Great Ones of thy Court have audaciously smiled away the Gloom and Horrors of Guilt, and refined, as it were, all the Grossness thereof, by new inverting Terms and palliating Phrases. While the Millions that crowd and hurry through thy Streets, are universally occupied in striving and struggling, to rise by the Fall, to fatten by the Leanness, and to thrive by the Ruin of their Fellows. Thy Offences are rank, they steam and cloud the Face of Heaven. The Gulf also is hollow beneath, that is one Day to receive thee. But the Measure of thy Abominations is not yet full; and the Number of thy Righteous hath hitherto exceeded the Proportion that was found in the first
Sodom.  �  
That Evening they went to the Opera, where
Harry
was so captivated by the sentimental Meltings and varied Harmony of the Airs, that he requested Mr.
Fenton
to permit him to be instructed on some Instrument. Not by my Advice, my Dear, answered Mr.
Fenton,
I would not wish you to attempt any thing in which you may not excel. Music is a Science, that requires the Application of a Man's whole Lise in order to arrive at any Eminence. As it is enchanting in the Hand of a Master, it is also discordant and grateing in its inferior Degrees. Your Labours have been employed to much more valuable Purposes; and I would not, as they say, give my Child's Time for a Song.
Harry
instantly acquiesced, with the best Temper imaginable;
