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according to your orders, and herewith send it you inclosed. You must know, Mr. Spectator, that I am a maiden lady of a good fortune, who have had several matches offered me for these ten years last


and þave at present warm applications made to me by a very pretty fellow. As I am at my own disposal, I come up to town every winter, and pass my time in it after the manner you will find in the following journal, which I began to write upon the very day after your Spectator upon that subject.'

Tuesday night. Could not go to sleep till one in the morning for thinking of my journal.

WEDNESDAY.' From eight till ten. Drank two dishes of chocolate in bed, and fell asleep after them.

From ten to eleven. Ate a slice of bread and butter, drank a dish of bohea, read the Spectator.

From eleven to one, At my toilette, tried a new hood. Gave orders for Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. I look best in blue.

From one till balf an hour after two. Drove to the 'Change. Cheapened a couple of fans.

Till four. At dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new liveries,

From four to sir. Dressed, paid a visit to old lady Blithe and her sister, having before heard they were gone out of town that day.

From six to eleven. At basset, Mem. Never set again upon the ace of diamonds.

THURSDAY, From eleven at nigbt to eight in the morning. Dream'd that I punted * to Mr. Froth.

* A term in the game of basset.


From eight to ten. Chocolate. Read two acts ia Aurengzebe a-bed.

From ten to eleven. Tea-table. Sent to borrow lady Faddle's Cupid for Veny. Read the play bills. Received a letter from Mr. Froth. Mem. Locked it up in my strong box.

Rest of the morning. Fontange, the tire-woman, her account of my lady Blithe's wash. Broke a tooth in my little tortoise-shell comb. Sent Frank to know how my lady Hectick rested after her monkey's leaping out at window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my glass is not true. Dressed by three.

From three to four. Dinner cold before I sat down.

From four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth's 'opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. His fancy of a pin-cushion. Picture in the lid of his snuffbox. Old lady Faddle promises me her woman to cut my

hair. Lost five guincas at crimp. Twelve o'clock at night. Went to bed.

FRIDAY, Eight in the morning. A-bed. Read over all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Veny.

Ten o'clock. Staid within all day, not at home.

From ten to twelve. In conference with my mantuamaker. Sorted a suit of ribbons. Broke my blue china "спр.

From twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber, practised lady Betty Modely's skuttle.

One in the afternoon. Called for my flowered handkerchief. Worked half a violet leaf in it. Eyes ached

nd head out of order. Threw by my work, and read over the remaining part of Aurengzebe.

Prom three to four. Dined.
From four to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed,


went abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home. Conversation : Mrs. Brilliant's necklace false 'stones. Old lady Loveday going to be married to a young fellow that is not worth a groat. Miss Prue gone into the country. Tom Townley has red hair. . Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my ear that she had something to tell me about Mr. Froth. I am sure it is not true.

Between twelve and one. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my feet, and called me Indamora.

SATURDAY. Rose at eight o'clock in the morning. Sat down to my toilette.

From eight to nine. Shifted a patch for half an hour before I could determine it. Fixed it above my left eyebrow.

From nine to twelve. Drank my tea, and dressed.

From twelve to two. At chapel. A great deal of good company. Mem. The third air in the new opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully.

From three to four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the opera before I was risen from table. .. From dinner to six. Drank tea. Turned off a footman for being rude to Veny.

Six o'clock. Went to the opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the beginning of the second act. Mr. Froth talked to a gentleman in a black wig. Bowed to a lady in the front box. , Mr. Froth and his friend clapped Nicolini in the third act. Mr. Froth cried out ancora, Mr. Froth led me to my chair. I think he squeezed

my hand.

Eleven at night. Went to bed. Melancholy dreams. Methought Nicolini said he was Mr. Froth.


SUNDAY. Indisposed.

MONDAY. Eight o'clock. Waked by miss Kitty. Aurengzebe lay upon the chair by me. Kitty repeated without book the eight best lines in the play. Went ! in our mobs to the dumb man according to appointment. Told me that

my lover's namie began with a G. Mem. The conjuror * was within a letter of Mr. Froth's

name, &c.


Upon looking back into this my journal, I find that I am at a loss to know whether I pass my time well or ill; and indeed never thought of considering how I did it before I perused your speculation upon that subject. I scarce find a single action in these five days that I can thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the violet-leaf, which I ain resolved to finish the first day I am at leisure. As for Mr. Froth and Veny, I did not think they took up so much of my time and thoughts as I find they do upon my journal. The latter of them I will turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring matters to a conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my life run away in a dreain. «Your humble seryant,

· Clarinda.'

To resume one of the morals of


and to confirm Clarinda in her good inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty figure she would make among posterity, were the history of her whole life published like these five days of it. I shall conclude my

* Duncan Campbell.


paper with an epitaph written by an uncertain author on sir Philip Sidney's sister, a lady who seems to have been of a temper very much different from that of Clarinda. The last thought of it is so very noble, that I dare say my reader will pardon me the quotation.

On the Countess Dowager of PemiBROKB.

Underneath this marble hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother :
Death, ere thou hast killed another,
Fair and learned, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.'



My friend sir Roger de Coverley told me tother nightthat he had been reading my paper upon Westminster Abbey, in which, says he, there are a great many ingenious fancies. He told me at the same time, that he observed I had, promised another paper upon the tombs, and that he should be glad to go and see them with me, not having visited them since he had read history. I could not at first imagine how this came into the knight's head, till I recollected that he had been very busy all last summer upon Baker's Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his disputes with sir Andrew Freeport since his last coming to town. Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next morning, that we might go together to the Abbey.' 9

I found

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