IN the year 1666, Mr. Benjamin Beaumont and Mr. Samuel Gauze, were partners in mercantile concerns in the town of Boston.—They were not related, but lived in perfect friendship. They were men of the first charac­ters in town, and had a rapid run of business, both the wholesale and retail, by which they accumulated great property. At length Mr. Beaumont got married, and his partner, Mr. Gauze, in the space of three months afterwards. Notwithstanding they lived in perfect friend­ship for the term of three months, then by mu­tual consent of both parties, dissolved partner­ship; but still had a good understanding. How­ever, at the end of nine months, Mr. Beau­mont was favored with a handsome boy; and on account of the love and good will [...] Mr. Gauze, invited him in (as their houses were adjoining) to make merry with him on the occasion. Dinner being over, Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Gauze, retired into a private room for amusement. After convers­ing upon different topics, Mr. Beaumont turns to Mr. Gauze, with a joyful countenance, saying, if it was so ordered by Deity, that your wife should bring forth a daughter, so that their tender minds might be filled with love and [Page 4] gratitude towards each other from their youth up to the age of maturity, and then be joined in the bands of wedlock—with all my heart, replied Mr. Gauze, God grant that to be the case. With that they renewed it by a solemn vow, that nothing would be wanted on their part, to endear them to each other. And they had their wish; for scarcely had three months revolved, when Mrs. Gauze was delivered of a handsome daughter. Then Mr. Beaumont was sent for to make merry on the occasion; where they renewed their former promises, and con­firmed it with a solemn oath. At the end of a year, the children were baptized. The boy, Samuel Beaumont, and the girl, Nancy Gauze—in memory of Mrs. Beaumont. And when old enough to go to school, were sent to school together, and all the pains imaginable taken, to endear them to each other: Mr. Beaumont would often say, Samuel, if you go any where to day, you must go with Miss Nancy; And Mr. Gauze would frequently say, Nancy, be sure and call for Samuel, when going to school to-day.

Thus a few days had elapsed, when they be­came attached to each other to such a degree, that it was beyond the art of human reason to keep them apart for any length of time. How­ever, Samuel was sent to College at the age of fourteen, which proved very grievous to Nan­cy, and brought her immediately into a state of despondent melancholy. But their parents indulged them as much as possible, by the pri­vilege of frequent visits, and by unfolding their minds to each other by letters.

[Page 5] During the time of Samuel's collegiate life, his father (Mr. Beaumont) was deeply engag­ed in the East India trade, which proved so unfortunate, by storms at sea, that he lost all his shipping, and in less than one month after his son took his degree, his creditors called upon him and found him unable to pay ten shil­lings on the pound. Notwithstanding this sudden and unfortunate change, he bore it with the greatest fortitude.

Now let us turn to the young lovers, who were encouraged by indulgent parents.

By this time their passions became more strong. As they increased in years, Cupid's arrows were implanted strongly in both their breasts; and they lived in as much love and unity, save the nuptial bed, as tho' bound by the tenderest ties of a nature. But pride, rank pride, the destroyer of peace and happiness, soon made a separation: For Gauze, finding his intended son-in-law (Mr. Beaumont, as his age gives him the title) reduced to poverty by the misfortunes of his honored father, denies him the privilege of coming to his house or paying any further respects to his daughter. This refusal was so sudden and unexpected, that he remained speechless for some minutes. At length he exclaimed, with a loud and bitter cry—In the name of justice, from what motives have you altered your mind! This is beyond my conception, to have an open denial of the privileges you always indulged me in, even from my infancy. Oh! Good heavens! is it possible for us to part, who have been so long, united, and have been taught by indulgent pa­rents [Page 6] to accent the first words of our utter­ance, love? By this time his courage began to return, and he addresses himself to Mr. Gauze in the following manner:—

Sir, I beseech you to take a retrospective view of your past conduct respecting this un­happy affair, which appears to be so at present. Don't you remember the solemn promises that passed between you and my father, that Nancy and I should be bound by the bands of wedlock, provided we were agreed, which you know to be the case? And not only so, but you con­firmed it with an oath. I am not ignorant of this matter. This was not done in a corner; for the lowest class of people in town are well acquainted with it. Now, Sir, please to let me know what you ever observed in me or my conduct, to give you any reason to treat me with neglect, and deprive me of the object of my wishes, which you ever indulged me in. Mr. Gauze remains speechless—at length re­plies: I have ever observed your conduct to be good, but do not wish to have my daughter go to the arms of a beggar. Your father was in good circumstances when I passed my word, which I don't consider binding, since he has been reduced to poverty.

The young man replied: Your riches perish with you—and departed with a heavy heart. Miss Nancy was then in her apartment, and knew nothing of the conversation; but no sooner had Mr. Beaumont retired, than her fa­ther entered the room and said, I'm determin­ed to break up a scene that has been long in [Page 7] agitation, both to your ruin and the dishonor of your father.

Nancy replies with a look of wildness—good God! Father, what scene! what scene? The scene between you and Beaumont, that has been so long brewing. Don't you know that his fortune is not adequate to your's? But still you keep his company to the injury of your credit, as it will throw you into the meanest company in town. I look upon him no better than the off [...]couring of humanity—Nancy cries forbear, I pray forbear, with her eyes brim full of tears. She could not utter more—at length recovering, says: Father, was not the first seeds of love sown in my tender breast by your own hand, cherished by your insinuations, and have budded and blossomed, and arrived to such a degree of perfection that they are past [...]? Oh! father, how often have I heard you say, be sure and go with Samuel to school to-day, when I was incapable of com­prehending your meaning: And now I must tell you, with tears in my eyes, that nothing can part us but death. On hearing of this, her father interrupted her, and said: You are un­der my commands, and to them you must sub­mit

Her mother, who remained in tears during the time of their conversation, addressed Mr. Gauze in the following manner:

[Nancy retires.]

You know that she is our child who is near [...] dear to us, and why will you undertake to [...] her ruin by separating her from her [...] held dear. Your conscience must certainly tell [Page 8] you that she is not the aggressor, for she has obeyed your commands from her youth up to this day; and why will you stifle flame which was your's, and your partner, Mr. Beaumont's concupiscible motives. With that, Mr. Gauze replied. You talk like one of the foolish wo­men; you would bring the family under an ev­erlating disgrace by joining her to a man that is so poor. Then let her be poor, says Mrs. Gauze—I would rather see her happy than rich; but there is no need of her being poor; your interest is great; bestow a part up­on her. How often has it been the case that there was not equality of property on the same occasion. Do comply with my request; for if there is not something done shortly, we must follow her in sorrow to the grave. Mr. Beau­mont replies: Enough—I will hear no more—I will go this moment and confine her. He goes immediately, and engaging two maidens to attend her, confines her to the room, saying, there is your place of residence till you alter your mind—then retires, charging the servants not to assist her, either by letter, or verbal in­formation, on the penalty of being discharged.

Now the unfortunate lovers are bewailing their unhappy fate in a state of separation and despair. At length her lover sits down and writes in the following manner:

At half past eleven, the boy appears to re­ceive his message, which he conveyed in the following manner: On approaching the win­dow, he tapped it gently with the pole three or four times unnoticed.—Miss Nancy lay mu­sing on her bed. A thought immediately [...] her that it was the solemnities of love—ap­proaching the window, found it to be the mes­sage from her lover, which she eagerly seized, and the boy retired. After the perusal of the letter, which she did by gently watering it with tears, she sits down and writes in the following manner:

Mr. Beaumont receives the letter agreeable to his expectations, and after perusal, which was done with tears, he communes with himself saying, I have laid the plan, but how shall I put it in execution? my property is not adequate to the task, and my father is unable to help me; but I will communicate my ideas to my father, which he did in the following manner:

His parents, who were in tears all this time, knew not what to say. At length his father answered: My son, I know your situation is bad, as well as my own: I have given you a good education, and was under circumstances to have given you a handsome fortune; but if it was the will of Providence that we should come to poverty, let us not repine, but be content. If it is your determination to go in quest of a fortune, I will procure money sufficient of my brother to bear your expences, (which he did) and in the course of three days was ready to sail. Previous to his embarcation, there came three gentlemen merchants to his father's, and talked with him, on the necessity of his being very attentive to his business; and as they were acquainted in London, gave him letters of re­commendation to the merchants; which he re­ceived with a heart of gratitude and thankful­ness. Next morning he took his leave of his parents and a large circle of acquaintance, and set fail.

Now let us turn to the parents of the unfor­tunate lovers.

Mr. Gauze hearing of his embarcation, im­mediately releases his daughter from her con­finement, who had the privilege of walking out: Her mind being perplexed, and being confined so long, she ran eagerly to unfold her heart to Mrs. Beaumont. Her father, hearing of this, run in haste to frustrate her plan. No sooner had he entered the door, than he [...] Mr. Beaumont. Mr. Gauze exclaimed with a [Page 13] peremptory tone of voice: Who gave you the liberty of harboring my daughter? Mr. Beau­mont answered him with a great degree of calmness: She is not your daughter, for you have given her to my son in her infancy, and confirmed it by a solemn oath, which has pro­ved their ruin. Mr. Gauze answers: Would you have my daughter go to the arms of a beg­gar? You have ventured your property and lost it, and by that means broke up the match. It never was my intention to have them joined unless there was an equality of property. Mr. Beaumont replies: Your property perish with you—it never gave ease to a perjured soul. Go home and contemplate on the former pro­mises that passed betwixt us, respecting the hap­piness of the young couple you have lately se­parated. I have ever treated you with bene­volence, but you have treated me with ingrati­tude, which is the blackest of crimes.

Mr. Gauze and his daughter returns very solitary. Mr. Beaumont arrives in England, after a tedious passage of twelve weeks, and suffered every thing but death itself. On his arrival in London, one of the first characters, who was deeply engaged in the East and West India trade, employed him as first clerk of the counting room. He remained in this situation for the term of one year; gave perfect satis­faction, and treated every man with politeness, but never appeared to smile: which was ob­served by his employer, who one day took an opportunity to ask him, saying, What is the cause of your dejection? Are you not treated handsomely by your fellow clerks? Or have I [Page 14] given you any reason for this heaviness of heart! Mr. Beaumont replies with tears: You have ever been my friend and brother according to the bonds of society. My sickness is of the mind. I cannot carry smiles and sunshine in my face when discontent sits heavy on my heart—His employer replies: May I know the cause without intruding too far? To you alone I will reveal it, as I know you have a heart that will ever conceal, and a tongue that will never re­veal [...] then gives him a narrative of all his misfortunes. His employer heard him with astonishment, and with a heart full of grati­tude, answers him in the following manner: You have passed through many scenes of diffi­culty in your youthful days, but I hope it will all terminate for the best. My business is such that I want your assistance for years to come; but I will not require it any longer than it will terminate for your health and happiness. I would advise you to take a journey to France for your health, as new objects are commenda­ble for a persson in your situation. I will give you letters of recommendation to some of the first characters in France, which I presume will introduce you into business. Furthermore, I will help you to money to bear your expences. Mr. Beaumont immediately complied with his offer, and in three days from that time, em­barked for France: But misfortune seemed to await him: For within a few leagues of the desired haven, the vessel was castaway, and on­ly he and two others had the good fortune to escape.

Now his cup of calamities was entirely full. [Page 15] He was left wholly destitute of money. His letters of recommendation were gone, and in fact, every thing but what was on his back. Being cast on a desolate island, it made his situ­ation still more desperate. But his comrades, being endowed with a great share of fortitude, set out in quest of inhabitants; and in twenty four hours came to a coffee house, where they told their misfortunes and got some refresh­ment.

Mr. Beaumont thought it unnecessary to en­quire for business of a public nature, on ac­count of the loss of his recommendations, but enquired of the landlord for some private em­ployment.

Sir, replied his host, you do not appear to me like a man brought up to such business—Your address and conversation speaketh differ­ent.

Mr. Beaumont answered with a blush: Ne­cessity is the mother of invention.

His host replied: There is a Nobleman three miles distant who employs a great number of servants, but is something singular in his treat­ment towards them. He never gives any abuse; for when one breaks a law, he is imme­diately dismissed, and the next lowest is raised to his station.

His regulations I am pleased with, said Mr. Beaumont.

He will be here this evening replied his host.

Accordingly he appeared & made an agree­ment. He served him with all the faithfulness and stability imaginable, and declared, that [Page 16] when he was cleaning knives, his mind was most at ease: For when he was not employed, and no kind of business called his attention, his thoughts were in Boston, placed with the deep­est impression on his beloved. And no sooner had night spread her fable curtain, than his mind was filled with anxiety; and often on his bed he would commune with himself, saying, The limited time of my absence will shortly be expired, and how shall I accomplish my design. I must return by the time appointed, or break my vow, and loose the object of may wishes—Unless some future event takes place, my plans are frustrated, as the business I am in at present will not add much to my fortune.

Next morning he arose and went about his business with great composure of mind. In the course of the day the Nobleman dismissed his body servant, for some misdemeanor, and Mr. Beaumont arrived to his station which increas­ed his salary to one hundred sterling per an­num.

His business was now to wait on the Noble­man when he rode out, and inspect the tables, and see that every thing was in order; and likewise to ride on errands for the Nobleman's daughter (a little Miss, aged thirteen years) who was then under the care of a writing mas­ter, who attended upon her twice a day, to teach her the definitive part of writing.

One morning his business led him into her room, and seeing her copy book lying on the table, he took up the pen and carelessly wrote a line under the copy.

Shortly after, the writing master came in, [Page 17] cast his eye on the paper, and says to the lady, did you write that line? No Sir, replied lit­tle Miss. Who did write it? I do not know, Sir, unless it was Mr. Beaumont, (the servant) and I'm sure it could not be him.

Call him in, said the teacher. He came forth. Did you write that line, Samuel?

I did, Sir, but I am very sorry. I came in and catched hold of the pen, and wrote it care­lessly, without a thought of injuring the feel­ings of any. Pardon me, Sir, for my insolence.

You are quite excusable, replied the teach­er, for it far exceeds the copy.

The little Miss informed her father of what had taken place. Mr. Beaumont was immedi­ately brought before the Nobleman, who ex­amined him in the languages and all other in­tricate branches of learning, and found him much preferable to himself; then turns to Mr. Beaumont, saying: You shall no longer be my servant. It was never predestinated by Deity that a man of your abilities should be a servant to any man of any rank or station whatever.

Mr. Beaumont remained speechless some time—at length replies: I am contented with my situation, and am willing to serve you until better business offers.

The Nobleman answers: I have an old gen­theman with me who serves in the capacity of a clerk, and has been in that employment for many years past, but has solicited me strongly to release him, as he has accumulated property enough, and wishes to live a retired life. If you please, you may have his birth, which will bring you in two hundred sterling per annum.

[Page 18] Mr. Beaumont thanked him kindly, and ac­cepted his offer.

He remained in that situation for several years, and gave perfect satisfaction. But the change of his condition added great lustre to his beauty, and being a person of handsome address and graceful conversation, united with a most agreeable disposition, soon drew the at­tention of the Nobleman's daughter.

As the increased in years, her passions be­came more strong; but she never made it known, lest it should prove disagreeable to her father.

The young lady was an only daughter, and her mother had been deed a considerable time.

Her affection was not wholly unnoticed by Mr. Beaumont, who could plainly discover that she embraced every opportunity to be in his company; but more particularly when her father was absent. Her passion at length be­came so strong that she could no longer conceal it. Taking an opportunity when her father was absent, she very deliberately divulged her mind to Mr. Beaumont, in full; telling him that she had harbored a fondness for him in her breast, which she could no longer conceal.

If you are endowed (said she) with unanim­ity sufficient to ease my troubled mind, answer me frankly.

Mr. Beaumont stood amazed for some time, but recovering, answers her in the following manner:

The young lady makes this brief reply:

Sir, as to your birth and breeding, your conduct proves that to be good; and I find by experience, that money never purchased love.

The Nobleman appears, and breaks up the scene—She retires to her own apartment.

They conversed together every opportunity, until the end of the year, which was the sixth year of his absence from home.

The Nobleman then solicited him strongly to continue with him another year; but he re­fused, knowing that the time of fulfilling his former promise was near at hand.

In the time he was preparing to return, the Nobleman was taken sick, and died; but be­fore him death he appointed Mr. Beaumont to settle his estate, and for the love and good will he owed him, made him a present of five thous­and pounds sterling.

During the time he was settling this Noble­man's estate, the young woman, recovering the troubles, in some measure which were caused by the death of her father, accosts Mr. Beau­mont in the following manner:

I have made you an offer of my heart and hand, but you never have given me an answer. Now I see nothing to hinder our being joined in the bands of wedlock. My fortune is all at your command. If you must return to your [Page 20] place of nativity I am willing to bear you com­pany, as I cannot live out of your sight. She could not utter more for the rapidity of tears which flowed from her eyes, and run gently down her rosy cheeks.

Mr. Beaumont for some time stood motion­less—then burst forth in tears and said, Good Heavens! What shall I do? Shall I break my former promises? Can I be so cruel?

On hearing of this, Miss Betsy starts up with an air of wildness—What promises?

Mr. Beaumont now gives her a narrative of all the transactions at home—with an account of the treatment he received from Mr. Gauze—how Miss Nancy was confined—and his pro­mise of returning at the close of that year.

On hearing of this, she flew to his arms and embraced him, when they both wept bitterly.

Miss Nancy now cries out in the following manner: True genuine love never was pur­chased by riches; but may heaven reward you for your constancy. I have nothing to lay to your charge. You have ever treated me with respect and tenderness.—As my days here be­low are of short duration, and the treasures of this world are as filthy rags, I impart my portion to you, hoping it may in some meas­ure constitute your happiness in this world of trouble and sorrow, which I hope to leave shortly.

A heart of adamant would have melted to have seen these unfortunate lovers in so melan­choly a situation. But they did not remain so long: For in the course of three days, Miss Betsy languished and died. She willed to Mr. [Page 21] Beaumont, just before her death, thirty thous­and pounds sterling, and made him executor of her estate, which brought him a handsome sum; beside, now finding himself clear of a scene of trouble and difficulty which he was deeply engaged in for upwards of six long years.

He now sets out to obtain the object of his wishes, by returning to his native country—After furnishing himself and his intended spouse with two suits of the best clothes France could afford, he takes leave of his beloved ac­quaintaince, and sets out of his passage home.

When he arrived at port, he found a vessel bound for Boston, and ready to sail in a few days. After strict examination, he found the vessel belonged to Mr. Gauze, his intended fa­ther in law. On his passage, he became ac­quainted with the captain, who gave a narra­tive of the transactions at home in the time of his absence. He also informed him that Miss Nancy was courted by captain Sheldrick, who belonged to the East India company.

On his arrival he found it to be in fact the case; and that the intended marriage was to be celebrated the next day.

After some refreshment on board, Mr. Beau­mont divulges the whole matter to the crew, begging their assistance, saying, I will dress myself in sailors' habit, and go with the hands, and inform Mr. Gauze of the vessel's arrival. After writing a letter, they proceeded and en­tered the house sailor like, and informed Mr. Gauze of the arrival of the vessel and the good voyage she had made. He, being overjoyed, [Page 22] ran for a bottle to treat them. In his ab­sence, Miss Nancy came into the room. Mr. Beaumont fixed his eyes upon her, though at first sight he did not know her. He was how­ever, quickly convinced; and hands her the letter. She secretly returns to her chamber, and immediately writes an answer.

Mr. Beaumont and the company continued in the house, making merry with Mr. Gauze. At length he retires, charging them to send the captain up immediately. Yes, Sir, repli­ed Mr. Beaumont. Miss Nancy hands him the letter, and casts a wishful look, though he was in a sailor's apparel.

Mr. Beaumont informed her in his letter, that he meant to take her by force, and bring assistance enough to fight their way through, if he should be molested.

She answers him: I have received your let­ter from your own hand, and observe the con­tents: and most cordially acquiese in all your proposals.

Accordingly he came and found her by the kitchen door, ready to receive him with open arms. He conveyed her to a Coffee-House, sent for a Justice of the Peace, and were joined in the bands of wedlock, it being on Saturday evening.

The next morning they dressed and walked out: and tow such suits of clothes were never before seen in the town of Boston.

On Monday the wedding was attended by the parents and relations of both parties; and all those was would wish to partake, were made welcome.

[Page 23] Mr. Beaumont distributed his property, in part to his parents, so as to make them com­fortable through life; and was left then in possession of more property than Mr. Gauze.

They crowned the remainder of their days in love and unity; and thus enjoyed all the pleasures which can contribute to the happiness of a rural life.