"It was on a fine summer's evening, as they were returning from a ramble into the country, that they overtook a new married couple, who had taken lodgings near them at Ryde, when an accidental occurrence took place, which led to a close, but fatal intimacy." Page 11.

London:

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THE PROGRESS OF VICE.

PART I.

"As in the succession of the seasons, each, by the invariable laws of nature, affects the productions of what is next in course: so, in human life, every period of our age, according as it is well or ill spent, influences the happiness of that which is to follow. Virtuous youth gradually brings forward accomplished and flourishing manhood; and such manhood passes of itself, without uneasiness, into respectable and tranquil old age. But when nature is turned out of its regular course, disorder takes place in the moral, just as in the vegetable world. If the spring put forth no blossoms, in summer there will be no beauty, and in autumn no fruit. So, if youth be trifled away without improvement, manhood will be contemptible, and old age miserable. If the beginning of life have been vanity, its latter end can be no other than vexation of spirit. Blair.

ON Mr. Llewellin's return from business in the evening I perceived an unusual dejection in his countenance; and occasionally an involuntary sigh escaped him, which convinced me that he was in trouble. At length I asked him, if he had met with any thing during the day of a painful nature? "Yes, Sir," he replied, "the evil which I have long dreaded is now come upon an old friend." He then gave me the following letter from Mr. Phillips, who originally belonged to the same office in which Mr. Llewellin was stationed on his first settlement in London.

"MY DEAR LLewellin,

66

I

The evil day has at length overtaken me. am committed for forgery. My prosecutors are determined to push the severity of the law against me. I have no chance to escape, unless God work a miracle for me; and that I cannot expect. No-I dare not. I must now expiate my crimes against society by the sacrifice of my life; but by what sacrifice can I atone for my crimes against God? I cannot ask you to see Messrs. I and R, to induce them to forego the prosecution, because I know the die is cast; but I request, as a particular favour, that you will call and see my poor dear wife, and break the mournful tidings to her. I wrote a note to her, when I was apprehended, say that I should not be able to return home for a day

to

or two. This I did, that my absence might not alarm her. After you have seen her, and my solicitor, Mr L , you will oblige me if you will condescend to visit me in my gloomy and dismal abode. Had I taken that good advice which you have so often given me, but which, unfortunately for me and mine, I rejected, I should not have been where I now am. My companions have brought me to ruin, and now they desert me; as the herd shun the victim that is marked for death. "Your unhappy friend,

Newgate, August 12.

6

"PHILLIPS.

"Have you seen the parties?" "Yes, Sir," he rcplied; "I immediately called on Messrs. I and R--, but no arguments can induce them to relinquish the prosecution. I then waited on the solicitor, who says that he has no chance of escape. I then called on Mrs. Phillips. She was sitting in a small back parlour, pressing to her bosom one of the finest babes I ever saw, while her two other children, who are about four or five years of age, were playing their gambols on the carpet. As I had not called since the birth of her second child, she expressed some degree of surprize at seeing me, and added, 'I hope, Sir, you bring me no bad news.' I am sorry,' I replied, that it is not in my power to bring you good news.' 'Is my husband alive, Sir?' 'Yes, Madam, he is.' 'Is he well?' 'Yes.' 'What evil tidings have you to tell me, Sir? My dreams last night foreboded evil. I have been expecting, through the whole of the day, to sce some messenger of woe. Tell me, Sir;-is my husband in prison?' I paused; my feelings overcame me. I knew not how to disclose the fact. The eldest boy, on seeing his mother weep, ran to her, and threw his arms round her neck, and kissed her, and said, 'Don't cry, Mamma; Papa will soon come home.' You will excuse my importunity, Sir,' said Mrs. Phillips, but I am convinced, from your manner, that you have some heavy tidings to communicate; and as I would much rather have the whole catastrophe thrown open before me, than I would be kept in suspense, I must intreat you to let me know what misfortune has befallen my poor unhappy husband.'

'I hope, Madam,' I replied, 'God will give you strength to bear up under the calamity which it is my lot to disclose to you. Your husband is in prison. Not for forgery, I hope, Sir.' 'Yes, Madam, that is the crime for which he is committed.' 'On whom?' 'On Messrs. I and R's.' "Woe is me!-woe are ye, my sweet babes!' and just as she said, 'Woe art thou, my husband!' a strong hysteric fit came on, which continued, with some few intervals, for more than two hours. She sometimes sung a few wild and plaintive notes, and then raised her voice into the sweetest melody of joy-alternately laughed and cried-smote her breast-wrung her hands-threw her fine auburn hair in loose tresses over her shoulders,-till at length she sunk into a sullen melancholy, from which we could not rouse her, and in that state I left her."

Mr. Phillips was the only son of a country gentleman of a very large fortune. He lost his mother when he was about ten years of age; but this loss was partially supplied by the kindness of an aunt, who endeavoured to train him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. He received a good education at one of our public schools, and made great proficiency in learning; but he was too much attached to the society of gay companions, and as he was always supplied with an abundance of money, they courted and flattered him. On his leaving school he remained at home for upwards of twelve months, devoting himself to a life of pleasure, when his father resolved to remove him from the scene of danger, and procure for him a situation in London.

There is a wise medium for parents to observe towards their children, between extreme parsimony and profuse indulgence; but the experience of all ages attests, that the latter is much more fatal in its influence than the former. If a youth, when at school, or when he enters on the more public stage of life, has a larger supply of money than his actual wants require, he is placed under strong temptations to expend it extravagantly; and imperceptibly forms habits which his judgment may condemn when his passions are become too strong to allow him to correct them. As the love of accumulation very rarely takes possession of the youth

ful breast; and habits of economy are seldom formed when more is to be expended than absolute necessity requires, it is generally found that those parents lay the foundation for the ruin of their own children, who, by a mistaken act of kindness, supply them with a superabundance of wealth.

When he entered on the situation which bis father procured for him he was assiduous in the discharge of his duties, and conducted himself with so much propriety, that he gained the esteem and confidence of the gentleman in whose service he was engaged.

It is generally admitted, by those who have studied human nature, that though all are inherently depraved, yet no one becomes suddenly wicked. It has pleased God still to preserve some degree of respect for social goodness in the human breast, and to make it the interest of man, as a member of society, to cultivate the virtues on which its peace and prosperity depend. But notwithstanding the various expedients which are adopted, under the general administration of the laws of providence, to guard the rising generation from the contaminating and corrupting influence of evil, we see them, in a regular progression, becoming more and more depraved; and one of the earliest and most effective means which can be employed to bring about this fatal catastrophe, is the popular reading of the day. This is a reading age; and if we have but few, in any department of literature, who can be compared with the intellectual giants of former times, yet there is a much larger proportion of intelligence diffused through the great mass of the people than at any former period of our history. Opinions which were received by our forefathers with the utmost degree of implicitness, are now examined with a boldness and freedom of inquiry, which marks the independence of the times in which we live; and institutions which have no other basis than popular prejudice, are in danger of being subverted and destroyed. The establishment of our Sunday, and Lancasterian, and National Schools, has raised the lower orders of society from that state of mental torpor in which they have been sunk for generations; while the improved systems of instruction which are introduced into our public seminaries, where the higher ranks receive their education, have