difcourfe by the following letter, which is drawn up with fuch a fpirit of fincerity, that I queftion not but the writer of it has reprefented his cafe in a true and genuine light.

SIR,

I Am one of thofe people who by the general opinion of the world are counted both infamous and unhappy.

My father is a very eminent man in this kingdom, and one who bears confiderable offices in it. I am his fon, but my misfortune is, that I dare not call him father, nor he without fhame own me as his life, I being illegitimate, and therefore deprived of that endearing tendernefs and unparalleled fatisfaction which a good man finds in the love and converfation of a parent: neither have I the opportunities to render him the du ties of a fon, he having always carried himself at fo vait a diftance, and with fuch fuperiority towards me, that by long ufe I have contracted a timoroufnefs when before him, which hinders me from declaring my own neceffities, and giving him to understand the inconveniencies I undergo.

It is my misfortune to have been neither bred a fcholar, a foldier, nor to any kind of bufinefs, which renders me entirely uncapable of making provision for myfelf without his affittance; and

this creates a continual uneafinefs in my mind, fearing I fhall in time want bread; my father, if I may fo call him, giving me but very faint allurances of doing any thing for me.

I have hitherto lived fomewhat like a gentleman, and it would be very hard for me to labour for my living. I am in continual anxiety for my future fortune, and under a great unhappiness in lofing the fweet converfation and friendly advice of my parents; fo that I carnot look upon myself otherwife than as a monfter, ftrangely fprung up in nature, which every one is afhamed to

own.

I am thought to be a man of some natural parts, and by the continual reading what you have offered the world, become an admirer thereof, which has drawn me to make this confeffion; at the fame time hoping, if any thing herein thould touch you with a fenfe of pity, you would then allow me the favour of your opinion thereupon; as alfo what part I, being unlawfully born, may claim of the man's affection who begot me, and how far in your opinion I am to be thought his fon, or he acknow. ledged as my father. Your fentiments and advice herein will be a great confolation and fatisfaction to, Sir, your admirer and humble fervant,

HOR. OD. XIX. LIB. I. VER. 7

I

Am not at all displeased that I am become the courier of love, and that the ditheffed in that paffion convey their complaints to each other by my means. The following letters have lately come to my hands, and thall have their place with great willingness. As to the reader's entertainment, he will, I hope, forgive the inferting fuch particulars as to him may perhaps feem frivolous, but are to the perfons who wrote them of the highest confequence. I fhall not trouble you with the prefaces, compli

gard I have for you. The Spectator's late letter from Statira gave me the hint to use the fame method of explaining myfelf to you. I am not affronted at the defign your late behaviour difcovered you had in your addreffes to me; but I impute it to the degeneracy of the age, rather than your particular fault. As I aim at nothing more than being yours, I am willing to be a ftranger to your name, your fortune, or any figure which your wife might expect to make in the world, provided my commerce with you is not to be a guilty one. I refign gay drefs, the pleatures of vifits, equipage, plays, balls, and operas, for that one fatisfaction of having you for ever mine. I am willing you fhould induftrioufly conceal the only caufe of triumph which I can know in this life. I with only to have it my duty, as well as my inclination, to ftudy your happinefs. If this has not the effect this letter feems to aim at, you are to understand that I had a mind to be rid of you, and took the readieft way to pall you with an offer of what you would never defift pursuing while you received ill ufage. Be a true man; be my flave while you doubt me, and neglect me when you think I love you. I defy you to find out what is your prefent circumitance with me; but I know while I can keep this fufpence, I am your admired

MADAM,

BELINDA.

IT is a strange state of mind a man is in, when the very imperfections of a woman he loves turn into excellencies and advantages. I do affure you, I am very much afraid of venturing upon you. I now like you in fpite of my reafon, and think it an ill circumstance to owe one's happiness to nothing but infatuation. I can fee you ogle all the young fellows who look at you, and obferve your eye wander after new conquets every moment you are in a public place; and yet there is such a beauty in all your looks and geftures, that I cannot but admire you in the very act of endeavouring to gain the hearts of others. My condition is the fame with that of the lover in the Way of the World. I have ftudied your faults fo long, that they are become as familiar to me, and I like them as well as I do my own. Look to it, Madam, and confider whether you think this gay be haviour will appear to me as amiable

when an husband, as it does now to me a lover. Things are fo far advanced, that we muft proceed; and I hope you will lay it to heart, that it will be becoming in me to appear ftill your lover, but not in you to be fill my mitreis. Gaiety in the matrimonial life is graceful in one sex, but exceptionable in the other. As you improve thefe little hints, you will afcertain the happines or uneafinefs of, Madam, your molt obedient, moft humble fervant, T. D.

BEFORE this can reach the best of

hufbands and the fondeft lover, thofe tender names will be no more of concern to me. The indifpofition in which you, to obey the dictates of your honour and duty, left me, has increased upon me; and I am acquainted by my phyficians I cannot live a week longer. At this time my fpirits fail me; and it is the ardent love I have for you that carries me beyond my ftrength, and enables me to tell you, the most painful thing in the profpect of death, is, that I mult part with you. But let it be a comfort to you, that I have no guilt hangs upon me, no unrepented folly that retards me; but I pafs away my laft hours in reflection upon, the happiness we have lived in together, and in forrow that it is so soon to have an end. This is a frailty which I hope is fo far from criminal, that methinks there is a kind of piety in being fo unwilling to be feparated from a state which is the inftitution of Heaven, and in which we have lived according to it's laws. As we know no more of the next

life, but that it will be an happy one to the good, and miferable to the wicked, why may we not please ourselves at leaft, to alleviate the difficulty of refigning this being, in imagining that we fhall have a fenfe of what paffes below, and may poffibly be employed in guiding the fteps of thofe with whom we walked with innocence when mortal? Why may not I hope to go on in my ufual work, and, though unknown to you, be affistant in all the conflicts of your mind? Give me leave to fay to you, O beft of men, that I cannot figure to myfelf a greater happiness than in fuch an employment: to be prefent at all the adventures to which human life is expofed, to administer flumber to thy eye-lids in the agonies of a fever, to cover thy beloved face in the

NCCV.

day of battle, to go with thee a guardian angel, incapable of wound or pain, where I have longed to attend thee when a weak, a fearful woman: thefe, my dear, are the thoughts with which I warm my poor languid heart; but indeed I am not capable under my prefent weakness of bearing the strong agonies of mind I fall into, when I form to myfelf the grief you will be in upon your first hearing of my departure. I will not dwell upon this, becaufe your kind and generous heart will be but the more afflicted, the more the perfon for whom you lament offers you confolation. My laft breath will, if I am myfelf, expire in a prayer for you. I fhall never fee thy face again. Farewel for ever.

DECIPIMUR SPECIE RECTI

HEN I meet with any vicious character that is not generally known, in order to prevent it's doing mischief, I draw it at length, and fet it up as a fcare-crow; by which means I do not only make an example of the perfon to whom it belongs, but give warn ing to all her Majelty's fubjects, that they may not fuffer by it. Thus, to change the allution, I have marked out feveral of the fhoals and quickfands of life, and am continually employed in difcovering those which are still conceal ed, in order to keep the ignorant and unwary from running upon them. It is with this intention that I publish the following letter, which brings to light fome fecrets of this nature.

MR. SPECTATOR,

THERE are none of your fpeculations which I read over with greater delight than thofe which are defigned for the improvement of our fex. You have endeavoured to correct our unreasonable feus and fuperftitions, in your feventh and twelfth papers; our fancy for equipage, in your fifteenth; our love of puppet fhows, in your thirty-first; our notions of beauty, in your thirty-third; our inclination for romances, in your thirty-feventh; our paffion for French

HOR. ARS POET. V. 25

ROSCOMMON.

Τ

fopperies, in your forty-fifth; our manhood and party-zeal, in your fiftyfeventh; our abuse of dancing, in your fixty-fixth and fixty-feventh; our levity, in your hundred and twenty-eighth; out love of coxcombs, in your hundred and fifty-fourth, and hundred and fifty-seventh; our tyranny over the henpeckt, in your hundred and feventy-fixth. You have defcribed the Pict in your fortyfirst; the idol, in your feventy-third; the demurrer, in your eighty-ninth; the falamander, in your hundred and ninetyeighth. You have likewife taken to pieces our drefs, and reprefented to us the extravagancies we are often guilty of in that particular. You have fallen upon our patches in your fiftieth and eightyfirit; our commnodes, in your ninetyeighth; our fans, in your hundred and lecond; our riding habits, in your hundred and fourth; our hoop- petticoats, in your hundred and twenty-feventh; befides a great many little blemishes which you have touched upon in your feveral other papers, and in these many letters that are fcattered up and down your works, At the fame time we must own, that the compliments you pay our fex are innumerable, and that thofe very faults which you reprefent in us, are neither black in themfelves, nor, as you own,

univerfal

univerfal among us. But, Sir, it is plain that these your difcourfes are calculated for none but the fashionable part of woman-kind, and for the ufe of those who are rather indifcreet than vicious. But, Sir, there is a fort of prostitutes in the lower part of our fex, who are a scandal to us, and very well deferve to fall under your cenfure. I know it would debale your paper too much to enter into the behaviour of thefe female libertines; but as your remarks on fome part of it would be a doing of juftice to feveral women of virtue and honour, whofe reputations fuffer by it, I hope you will not think it improper to give the public fome accounts of this nature. You must know, Sir, I am provoked to write you this letter by the behaviour of an infamous woman, who having paffed her youth in a most shameful state of proftitution, is now one of those who gain their livelihood by feducing others, that are younger than themfelves, and by establishing a criminal commerce between the two fexes. Among feveral of her artifices to get money, the frequently perfuades a vain young fellow, that fuch a woman of quality, or fuch a celebrated toatt, entertains a fecret paffion for him, and wants nothing but an opportunity of revealing it: nay, the has gone fo far as to write letters in the name of a woman of figure, to borrow money of one of thefe foolish Roderigo's, which the has afterwards appropriated to her own ufe. In the mean time, the perfon who has lent the money, has thought a lady under obligations to him, who fcarce knew his name; and wondered at her ingratitude when he has been with her, that he has not owned the favour, though at the fame time le was too much a man of honour to put her in mind of it.

When this abandoned baggage meets with a man who has vanity enough to give credit to relations of this nature, fhe turns him to very good account, by repeating praises that were never uttered, and delivering meffages that were never fent. As the house of this fhamelefs creature is frequented by feveral foreigners, I have heard of another artifice, out of which the often raises money. The foreigner fighs after fome British beauty, whom he only knows by fame: upon which the promifes, if he can be fecret, to procure him a meeting,

The ftranger, ravished at his good fortune, gives her a prefent, and in a little time is introduced to fome imaginary title; for you must know that this cunning purveyor has her reprefentatives upon this occafion, of fome of the finest ladies in the kingdom. By this means, as I am informed, it is ufual enough to meet with a German Count in foreign countries, that thall make his boasts of favours he has received from women of the highest ranks, and the most unblemished characters. Now, Sir, what fafety is there for a woman's reputation, when a lady may be thus proflituted as it were by proxy, and be reputed an unchafte wonian; as the hero in the ninth book of Dryden's Virgil is looked upon as a coward, because the phantom which appeared in his likenefs ran away from Turnus? You may depend upon what I relate to you to be matter of fact, and the practice of more than one of these female panders. If you print this letter, I may give you fome farther accounts of this vicious race of women. Your humble fervant,

BELVIDERA.

I fhall add two other letters on different fubjects to fill up my paper.

MR. SPECTATOR,

I Am a country clergyman, and hope

you will lend me your aflistance in ridiculing fome little indecencies which cannot fo properly be expofed from the pulpit.

A widow lady, who ftraggled this fummer from London into my parish for the benefit of the air, as the fays, appears every Sunday at church with many fashionable extravagancies, to the great aitonishment of my congregation.

But what gives us the most offence is her theatrical manner of finging the pfalms. She introduces above fifty Italian airs into the hundredth pfalm, and whilft we begin- All people,' in the old folemn tune of our forefathers, the in a quite different key runs divifions on the vowels, and adorns them with the graces, of Nicolini; if the meets with cke or aye, which are frequent in the metre of Hopkins and Sternhold, we are certain to hear her quavering them half a minute after us to fome fprightly airs of the opera.

I am very far from being an enemy to church

MR. SPECTATOR,

I know the lady's principles, and that fhe will plead the toleration, which (as the fancies) allows her non-conformity in this particular; but I beg you to acquaint her, that finging the pfalms in a different tune from the rest of the congregation, is a fort of fchifin not tolerated by that act. I am, Sir, your very humble fervant,

R. S.

prefcribe to us a rule of drinking out of Sir William Temple, in the following words-The firit glafs for myfelf, the fecond for my friends, the third for good-humour, and the fourth for 'mine enemies.' Now, Sir, you must know, that I have read this your Spectator, in a club whereof I am a member; when our prefident told us, there was certainly an error in the print, and that the word glass should be bottle; and therefore has ordered me to inform you of this mistake, and to defire you to publifh the following erratum: in the paper of Saturday, October 13, col. 3, line 11, for glafs read bottle. Yours,

L

ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW.

HOR. OD. XVI. L. 3. V. 21.

THR and feem thote who fet a HERE is a call upon mankind to

moderate price upon their own merit; and telf-denial is frequently attended with unexpected bleflings, which in the end abundantly recompenfe fuch loffes as the modeft feem to suffer in the ordinary occurrences of life. The curious tell us, a determination in our favour or to our difadvantage is made upon our first appearance, even before they know any thing of our characters, but from the intimations men gather from our afpect. A man, they fay, wears the picture of his mind in his countenance; and one man's eyes are spectacles to his who looks at him to read his heart. But though that way of raifing an opinion of thofe we behold in public is very fallacious, certain it is, that thofe, who by their words and actions take as much upon themselves, as they can but barely demand in the ftrict fcrutiny of their deferts, will find their account leffen every day. A modelt man preferves his character, as a frugal man does his fortune; if either of them live to the height of either, one will find loffes, the other errors, which he has not stock by him to

CREECH.

make up. It were therefore a just rule, to keep your defires, your words and actions, within the regard you observe your friends have for you; and never, if it were in a man's power, to take as much as he poffibly might either in preferment er reputation. My walks have lately been among the mercantile part of the world; and one gets phrafes naturally from thofe with whom one converfes: I fay then, he that in his air, his treatment of others, or an habitual arrogance to himself, gives himself credit for the leaft article of more wit; wifdom, goodnefs, or valour, than he can pofhibly produce if he is called upon, will find the world break in upon hie, and confider him as one who has cheated them of all the efteem they had before allowed him. This brings a cemmiffion of bankruptcy upon him; and he that might have gone on to his life's end in a profperous way, by aiming at more than he should, is no longer pro prietor of what he really had before, but his pretenfions fare as all things do which are torn inflead of being divided.

There is no one living would deny Cinna the applaufe of an agreeable and

facetious