she has to trust to if shâ— slights my Love Besides I know most of the Young Gentlewomen about Oxford had rather be Lampoon'd than kill'd so that I drew my Argument â— fortiore and have I hope out-done my Original Oh have a care thâ—n for her that me contemns I vow and swear I 'll Fiddle into the Theams But do not think I love you less for this For ah me ah me ah me I long to Kiss You behind rather then not at all but ah that I cou'd your Phiz The last line but one Sir I think is a Master-piece of Love for nothing can be more passionate than Ah me 't is a Sigh fetch'd from the bottom of the heart which being repeated still doubles the force of it And then the last line is a great indication of an humble Eover that wou'd be content with any favour and 't is always after a Rant in Love necessary and natural that you fall into a Calm and when you have huff'd you must beg a Favour as this ingenious Author does whom I have chose for my Pattern I wou'd not imitate the rest of this Copy of Verses of this incomparable Author because methinks he has deviated from the Rules he prescribes in concluding with such a long Simile which shews he had not much love that cou'd exemplify so much on the Sun and Sun beams But I can easily pardon that oversight in him since 't is a common Fault of great Criticks never to come up to the incomparable Rules they set down as if like Kings they were Laws made for us not themselves If this please you you may assure your self of more and also of the Name of him that till then desires to remain Your unknown Servant Sure said Grave the Author of the Gentleman's Iournal wou'd not have been brib'd by all these strain'd Compliments to insert such stuff as this No no return'd Temple he has more sense than to return the Civility which self-interest dictates at the expence of his Reputation He 's us'd to these Complements from the Universities and Inns of Court so that this wou'd have been no more than what he receives e'ry day and of very little influence with him This Spark wou'd have one believe he has a great deal of Modesty tho' his Vanity appears in e'ry line the whole being a praise of himself for he gives not those sugar words to the Gentleman he writes to but to bribe him to a return One thing I must remark for judging of the unnaturalness of Cowley and Wallers thoughts by what he found in himself when in love he concludes them in the wrong because his thoughts reach'd not up to theirs for says he The same cause will have the same effect in which he â—s much mistaken For if the Matter be chang'd the effect may prove quite contrary for beating with a Hammer will form Metal into curious Figures but break Stone or Glass all to pieces I know not what you may think Gentlemen interrupted Chappel but I am of Opinion this Letter is only a Banter and writ with a design to Satyrize those young Fops of the University whose Letters on such accounts he must needs have seen and upon this new sort of Wit call'd Aenigma's which is in plain English a Riddle the diversion of School-boys and Greensickness-Girls in a Chimny-corner in the Winter-nights in a Country-Village so we improve in the Kingdom of Witt and Learning that we shall I believe next come to Capping of Verses in Print or some 〈◊〉 Dutch invention This Elegy is an excellent Burlesque upon that Author who has set up for a Reformer of our Modern Love Poemâ— as you may observe if you will compare ' em I have the Book in my Pocket it being forc'd upon me yesterday by a Friend of the Booksellers I 'll read the Original do you Church read the Copy ELEGY The Power of Verse to his Mistress WHile those bright eyes subdue what e're you will And as you please can either save or kill What Youth so bold the Conquest to design What Wealth so great to purchase * It ought said Chappel to have been a heart like thine else it seems there might be wealth great enough to purchase her heart being but one tho not enough to purchase more of the same value hearts like thine None but the Muse that priviledge can claim And what you give in love return in Fame Riches and Titles with your Life must end Nay cannot ev'n in Life your Fame defend Verse can give form can fading Beauty save And after death redeem 'em from the Grave Embalm'd in Verse though distant times they come * Of all the sweet meats in the World interrupted Summer I hate preserv'd Bees in his Preface for I have read his Books he 's against for fetch'd Similes and here he has got one that agrees in nothing with the thing he applies it to first they are embalmed like Bees then preserv'd like 'em in an Amber Tomb. I never knew of any Bees preserv'd in a Tomb unless in this new model'd Poetry A Hive and a Tomb be all one I think the Oxonian has extreamly mended this Embalm'd with Fiddle within your Amber Tomb-stone You 'll last immortal Mummy till day of Doom's come Preserv'd like Bees within an Amber Tomb. Prither Summer reply'd Chappel don 't interrupt us for as soon as we have done you shall be free to make your Observations Poets like Monarchs on an Eastern throne Restrain'd by nothing but their will alone Here can cry up and there as boldly blame And as they please give Infamy or fame * Nay there interrupted Fountain the Argument be brings destroys the proof he brings it for since 't is evident by his Verse that Dido's Virtue lives even to our time for about two thousand six hundred and twelve years in spight of Virgils Endeavours to sacrifice her Reputation to the Honour of his Hero and his Mistress might well answer she had little cause to fear his Poetry if the Prince of Poets could do no more toward the defaming of a Woman Nay said Winter if one must needs threaten ones Mistress I think the Oxonian much more in the right â—n't his Example being less to be excepted against for tho' some Authors will have it that this was a Piper yet they differ others affirming him to have been a Fidler Nay then said Chappel we have done for all this while Chappel read the Authors Lines and Church read the Oxonians and therefore I 'll clap up my Original piece of Poetry And I 'll lay aside said Church my Vniversity Comment How different said I is this Argument handled by Ovid in his third Book of his Art of Love from whence he seems to have borrow'd the hint Ovid in his de Tristibus and de Ponto has more on the same Subject tho he professes such a value for the Antients in his Act of Love It begins Garmina qui
me you swore a thousand Oaths 't was for love of my Person and not my Mony but you have not only broke all them but your Marriage Vow too I receiv'd a hypocritical Letter from you t'other day but I found it seal'd with another Body's Seal In short Mr Smith either reform or I protest I 'll not live with you and if you return not quickly I 'll come to Town and rout you out of your holes What tho' I am a little older than you I am amiable enough in other Eyes and if I were so minded I could revenge my self in another way but I scorn the thought on 't and only wish you could be as constant and vertuous as my self who am your faithful tho' injur'd Wife Mar. Smith This Gentleman said Winter is Wiv'd or I 'm mistaken He had his choice answer'd Brook you find by this Letter True said I Mony and Age. 'T is fit therefore pursu'd River he have his punishment for perverting the end of Matrimony that is added Summer a scold and jealous She that 's jealous said Fountain must be a scold But said Chappel I cannot understand why one of our Poets calls Iealousie the Iaâ—ndice of the Soul that Distemper holding no Analogy with it that renders the Body heavy weak and drousie Right but Iealousie pursu'd Temple makes the mind active stirring and perpetually in motion He scarce deserves pitty said Church since he cou'd expect no other when he marry'd and he that sees a Danger and will not avoid it deserves to perish in it and truly concluded Grave the speady way to ruine is such a Wife who affords no ease at home but condems her Husband torments there or the Fate of the Jews abroad rambling But here is another has a mind to venture into the Noose Here 's Love in abundance whatever there is of Wit LETTER XXII From a Dwarf to a tall Lady with whom he was in Love 'T was directed to Madam Carew at Mr. Barral's in the Pall-Mall London Madam Oxford June 1692. 'T IS not Absence which your Cruelty has commanded that can efface that lovely Image your Eyes have form'd in my faithful Bosom I have 't is true but to no purpose retir'd to Oxford to see if Books and learned men would bring me any Relief but I find Philosophy is of no power to root out a Passion that is once admitted whatever it may to defend us from an Invasion I tell you Madam Love in my Breast is with greater difficulty remov'd than Foreign Aids out of the distressed Kingdom they are call'd in to assist Love has subdued me all and I am entirely a Slave Despise not my Stature Madam for tho' my Body be dwarsish my Soul is greater than that of the six-foot-high Lover it actuates this little World with more free Agility and my Perceptions and Operations of Mind are less confin'd and clogg'd there is a â—earer correspondence betwixt my Heart the Seat of Life and Love and the other subservient parts of my Body In short I can imagine no advantage the big men have over me unless it be the damming up the nobler part of Man the Soul with a greater quantity of heavy and lumpish Clay which renders its Passions and Vertues less perfect Wit Courage and Love being all more languid in them than us Big men are very often Cowards and very seldom witty and ingenious I confine these Observations Madam to the Men since the composition and matter of a Woman is of a finer and more delicate Mould nearer a-kin to the Essence of her Soul and I venerate that quality in your self Madam it rendring you more like to Heaven since I lift up my longing Eyes to both tho' my Prayers soar no higher than your self the glorious Image of the bright Empyreal besides the difference of your Stature would demonstrate your Authority and Rule over me for I desire to be eternally your Slave Oh that your Compassion and Justice would let me sacrifice my person on the fair Altar of your lovely Bosom as I have already my Heart on those of your Eyes If Love be Merit none deserves you more and sure whatever we may the other the heav'n of Woman is gain'd by Merit Your Rigour makes me bold and vain it forces me to boast that as I deserve you better than any man so that none shall bear you from me whilst there is a Soul within the despised Body of your Faithful Slave Rob. Petite The little Gentleman said Chappel seems to be extreamly in Love tho' his descant upon tall men methinks is not so proper a Topic to a Lady that lyes under the same circumstance left she should turn it to her self But he has taken care of that answered Temple by a handsom applying the Defect in Man to a Perfection in Woman The truth on 't is said Summer his little Body seems to be well fill'd with Spirit And by his Indignation one would think pursued Brook that he had the character Statius gives of Tydeus in hismind Major in exiguo regnabat corpore virtus that is The greater Soul the lesser Body fill'd I can never blame that Assurance he expresses said I since it is not the effect of Vanity but Necessity for a Woman that slights a Lover for his Modesty is generally won by the contrary quality Right continued Winter and a man that is too sensible of his own Defects will never gain the Lady he pretends to He may well pretend said Grave to merit her when the depraved Appetite of Woman is such that she will not â—ilk the variety and extravagance of her Pleasure if an Hobgoblin were the Object had 〈◊〉 but some imperfect shape of Man or the most deform'd disguise of Body to hide the Terror of the Spirit You have always a good word for the fair Sex said Church but I can't think your Reflection just since without doubt it reaches not all that soft Comfort of Mankind That 's granted answer'd Fountain but still the merits of Form or Fancy prevails with the Sex more than those of Wit and Parts But concluded River we labouring under the same Error can't condemn them without including our selves However I wish the Merits of the Mind of this little Gentleman may prevail tho' I confess a little Husband seems to have been taken out of the side of a tall Wife and not she out of his LETTER XXIII From a young Lady that had been betray'd by Love to the Embraces of a young Gallant who had got her with Child to whom she sends this Letter to desire him to save her Honour and by some means help her to something that may cause Abortion 'T was directed to Mr. Richards at his Chamber in the Temple London My dear False one â—omfret 1692. WHY did you betray me by so many Vowâ— and Sighs to believe you lov'd me Oâ— why did you pursue my Ruin because I lov'd you â—s Mankind so strange a Creature that we cannot love
'll be most tractable and besâ— form'd into a gentile Habit and Air. Your Friend Brittaign Subscrib'd said Church like a Bawd of Quality As indeâ—d she is pursu'd Temple for it cost her no less in Intelligence of this nature all over the Nation than Four hundred Pounds a Year At her House continu'd River you need never want fresh Faces as long as you have Money nor fresh Lasses neither said Winter at this rate But e'ry good thing when 't is perverted to a Trade said Brook is soon corrupted and so is this for the same Woman shall be sold to twenty Lords Knights and Squires for a Maid Each paying said Summer the price of her Virginity Ev'n so answer'd Fountain Cheats in all Traffic you know Summer Nay to say truth on 't said Chappel this Lady by the assistance of the Indian Women can help a Man to Beauty and Quality nor is any Man's Wife safe said I that is handsome so many shapes do her Agents take to insinuate â—â—to their Companies and delude 'em into Opportunities and as Almahide says opportunity half of our Sex are undone by thee Bawds I think concluded Grave deserve Death more than any Animal beside they are the Corruption of Families and rob a Man not â—nly of his Wives and Daughters Affections but Vertue Honour and Reputation LETTER XXXIV From a City Wife to her Prentice enviting him to Epsom upon his Master's absence 'T was directed to Mr. Young to be left at the Hand and Pen in Billeter-Lane London My dear Boy YOur Master designs next Week for the West and therefore I expect you once a Week at farthest with me you need not let any know whether you go come out of Town on Saturday Evenings so that you may get to Epsom by night I 'll remove my Lodging to the place I was at last Year do not fail and there we 'll enjoy one another without Interruption A. M. Here is a Lady said I that can be lewd without the expence of a Bawd One of the City-strain pursu'd River that had rather embrace her smooth young Prentice than the Old doting Alderman I know not said Grave but the Women will always have some pretencâ— for their Lewdness Right said Winter if her Husband be old he 's impotent and morose If young continu'd Chappel he 's wild and spends all his Stock abroad and so to the end of the Chapter This way of taking up with the Prentice said Fountain is very frugal I confess True pursu'd Brook and very convenient And therefore added Church very common Which is commonly said Summer the ease and ruine of the Prentice And 〈◊〉 concluded Temple they can't resist the Temptation if the Mistress be handsome as thy Story may 〈◊〉 you There was one of these City Wives catcht iâ— this manner by the Husband who civilly repreâ—â—nding the Prentice charg'd him it should be so is more but finding that Admoniâ—ion of little force 〈◊〉 sent for the Parson of the Parish to preach up 〈◊〉 â—einousness of the Offence to him which made 〈◊〉 young Sinner in his own Vindication say his Mistress envited him to do it But you should imiâ—ate Joseph answer'd the Man of God who ran 〈◊〉 his Mistress and left his Garment in her hands 〈◊〉 was the wonder of that replied the Prentice 〈◊〉 from the Embraces of an ugly Gypsie but he 〈◊〉 have been hang'd before he would have left 〈◊〉 pretty a Mistress as mine Which answer conâ—â—â—'d the Parson that 't was in vain to preach Reâ—â—tance to Youth who peâ—veâ—ted ev'n the Scripture 〈◊〉 â—atter its failings LETTER XXXV From a young Heir newly come to a great Estate to one of his Comrades here iâ— Town 'T was directed to Mr. Snow to be left for him at Richard's Coffee House near Temple-Bar Dear Iack MY old Dad has thought good to quit 〈◊〉 world in search of a better tho' 't were 〈◊〉 long while first 'T is a folly to grieve sor't 〈◊〉 an hypocrisie since he was a morose Gentlemâ—â— while he liv'd and kept his Money as if 't were 〈◊〉 to be touch'd but dying left it all to me near Twâ—â—â—ty thousand Pounds Iack the shining Dirt I 〈◊〉 would not keep him alive that lov'd it so well 〈◊〉 Faith I am resolv'd not to be so fond of that 〈…〉 good Wine an honest Fellow and an obedieâ—â— balmy Girl As soon as the ceremonious Formalâ—ties of the Funeral are over and Affairs settled 〈◊〉 a good Posture I 'm for delicious London where intend to wound the Ladies tender in my Glaâ—â— Chariot and carouse and frolic with my Friendâ—â— whilst Youth lasts Old Age or Death I find wiâ—â— overtake us in time 't is therefore good to makâ— sure of the present Joys the Possession of 〈◊〉 Friendship is not the least of them to thy Friend Du. Charleton Here 's one of the Race of Fools said Grave who thinks Happiness consists in drinking and whoâ—ing And so he will think pursu'd Winter till the Pox and Poverty convince him he 's in an as great an Error as his parcimonious Father was in liâ—ing miserable pursu'd I to leave such a Blockâ—â—ad an Estate We are of such an odd Composure said Temple that we can't perswade our selves to observe a Moderation in either Plenty or Want Right â—nd most Men are Phâ—â—gians added Church never wise till it be too late to reap any benefit of their Wisâ—â—â— 'T is the Fate of Misers I think said Summer â—â—ways to have Sons that hate them and spend that 〈◊〉 profuseness in Vice which they got by Oppression 〈◊〉 and Niggardliness And I 'm out in my 〈◊〉 added Fountain if this â—ovial Spark 〈◊〉 live to do penance for his undutifulness to his 〈◊〉 So goes on the Circle of things said 〈◊〉 Sin begets Sin and Sin produces 〈◊〉 And the son of a Knave pursu'd 〈◊〉 is commonly rainâ—d by Fools and Knaves 〈◊〉 shews Iustice in Providence concluded 〈◊〉 to punish the Offence by the means 't was 〈◊〉 LETTER XXXVI From a Father on the Death of his Son to his Friend 'T was directed to Mr. Moore Woollen-Draper at his House in Wattling-street London Mr. Moore Abington 1692. I Write to you upon a more doleful Subject than the last time for poor Ned dy'd yesterday of a Feaver 'T was the best natur'd and most dutiful Child ever unhappy Father lost but I hope I shall not long survive him he was my delight and my safe-guard he manag'd all my Affairs with 〈◊〉 care and faithfulness that he was the Love and Admiration of all that knew him he was temperate and studious never loving Idleness nor any Vice 'T is true he was too good for this wicked World and for me his unhappy Father I had just built him a pretty Appartment against his Wedding-day which as I sent you word would be soon but alas he is wedded to his Grave but my comfort is a happy Eternity will celebrate his Nuptials Dear Sir send me Fourscore Yards of
your finest black Cloth for Mourning by the first opportunity to Abington I can write no more my Grief is so great But I am yours whilst in this Life Iohn Summer Here 's that that is rare said Summer filial Duty and paternal Love meeting together A tender Father pursu'd Fountain and yet a deserving Son Your Character of him said I is true for Jack Summer was known to us all Nature that all the world about in other Families said Temple seem'd to be compos'd of preposterous Iarrings seem'd here to discover her primitive Beauty True pursu'd River where the Son enquired not into the Father's Years nor the Father added Chappel impertinently troubl'd himself about the Son's Actions How agreeable to Reason has he liv'd and what a Triumph â—as he gain'd said Grave whose Memory 's embalm'd with the Tears of him that begot him And whose Vertue continu'd Winter is confess'd the Support of the Life of him that gave him Life 'T is â—ity such an Example said River should be ravisht from the prevacariting World The Prince of this World concluded Brook saw that the force of one 〈◊〉 Example would in time reform Mankind and so banish the Supports of his Empire 's Strife and Dâ—struction LETTER XXXVII From a plesant Gentleman to his Mistress to satisfie her he lov'd her directed to Madam White at her House in Abby-street near Westminster Madam I Protest I can't tell what you would have me do I have swore to you a thousand times that I love if you expect any heroic Madness to confirm it I profess I am not ambitious of that Honour hanging and drowning and stabbing are is my mind no more proofs of Love than Courage being opposite to the end of both Courage being the supporting of Misery and the utmost effects of Fortune without sinking under them and the end of Love is to enjoy the Object belov'd but in the Arms of the living fâ—ir One for as for the Elyzian Fields 't is too Chymerical and Spiritual a Happiness for a Man of Sense and Flesh and Blood to depend on â—et me therefore Madam meet with the Death of a happy Lover in your white and 〈◊〉 Bosom and then if I be'nt the araâ—test Cooing Turtle and most faithful fond-doting Lover in the World discard me for a lying perjur'd Son of a Whoâ—e Gâ—d sweet Lady I think my Proposal is 〈◊〉 and I hope will work upon your Obstinacy so 〈…〉 not again to require any test of the Sincerity of my Passion so that at my return you will be ready with open Arms to receive Madam your faithful humble Servant C. North. If this Spark be in Love said River the Passion is more Iocund and gay than usual Hâ—'s like some Men pursu'd Chappel who dispatch a great deal of business playing and without any concern whiâ—st others assum'd Fountain are poring perpetually over less So you fancy said Temple that one Man can be really much in Love and yet merry and gay And that assum'd Summer when his Mistress doubts of his Affection whilst another pursu'd Brook for so it must be to ran on the 〈◊〉 shows all the Marks of Despair in his Face Actions and Discourse For my part said Church there is such an Air of Indifference in his Letter I think he can't be possess'd with the most violent of Passions And Amouâ—â—â— perhaps said I a transient gliding Flame that can be extinguish'd in the next Puddle he comes to The general â—ust said Grave after the whole Sex for that a great many of our Beaux take for Love when ever desire is rous'd by a beautiful Object But I can never yield concluded Winter that a real Passion can admit of those Pleasantries which this Writer as well as the Author of Letters and Poems amorous and gallaâ—t are so very â—ond of LETTER XXXVIII From a Jew to a Christian recriminating upon him 'T was directed to Mr. Farby Tobacconist in Broad-street London SIR Norwich Iune 169â— I Receiv'd your Letter last Week but the Contents of it being so impertinent I once thought to give you no Answer but least you should take my Silence for a Confession of my Guilt I shall in short tell you that you not only accuse me wrongfully but also rail without any pretext to Sense or Reason First you are under a neglectful or wilful mistake in saying I twice charg'd to you the same Hogshead of Spanish Tobacco whereas if you consult but your own Books you 'll find I have charg'd you with no more than I ought I having furnish'd you with two Hogsheads since I was last clear'd one on the 25 th of May and another on the 1 st of this present Month. Then for all your Nonsensical Abuse of my Religion 't is like the other gross Actions of your Life the effect of brutal Instinct without consulting the Faculties of a Man Else you would have remembred that I was of the Race of Abraham whom you Christians confess the Progenitor of your Messias and therefore merited a better Treatment from you you might also remember that you Christians confess us to have been once the peculâ—r People of God and I can see no reason we have not to think our selves so still unless we will suppose he can either forget his Promises to Abraham or that he can be Changeable as Man is Finally if your Religion teach you better Morals than ours which I deny even from the Mouth of Iesus who when he laid down the chief Precept of his Law of Do as you would be done by added for this is the Law and the Prophets the greater Shaâ—e you are so far â—ehind us in Practice who cheat not one another as you do or cut anothers Thâ—oats for we know not what We are not undutiful to our Parents nor negligent of our Children to gratifie the Pride and Revenge of our selves or second Wives but if I should run the Parallel as far as I might 't wou'd easily be seen who are the People of God since you must grant the Tree is known by its Fruit. I shall return home in a few days and then shall convince you of the Injury you have done Ephraim Ben Ezra The Jew in my mind said Brook has recriminated with a great deal of Reason We have said Winter a sort of sordid Animals among us who think themselves very happy and excellent by being Christians tho they lead Lives more tewd and knavish than the worst of Heathens And have no more Morals in their dealings pursu'd Church than the Bannians It may be doubted indeed said Grave whether these People are animated with any other Soul than that of a Beast they are so wholly lead by Sense They discover so little of thought I must confess added Temple in their Actions that one might almost believe it without Heresie True assum'd River for the Soul of Man is a Cogitative Essence You wrong 'em said I for they are very thoughtful to Circumvent the Ignorant So are Dogs
answer'd Fountain thoughtful as their Dreams will convince But interrupted Chappel their Knaveries are so natural that there is no necessity to suppose them capable of a rational Thought any more than a Cat that watches and feigns her self asleep to catch her Mice For my part concluded Summer I think if Morality be justly observ'd there will 〈◊〉 Man of what Religion so ever be Damn'd for controverted doubtful Points LETTER XXXIX From a Gentleman of some Quality to a Creditor of his 'T was directed to Mr. Woodford at his House in Maiden Lane near the Strand London SIR Wilts Iune 1692. I Am sorry I must still put you off since you have pressed me with so much earnestness for your Mony I have retir'd from Town on purpose to retrench my Expences that I may be able to discharge all my Debts but as yet I am not able to spare so much as your Bill amounts to tho I hope it will not be long before I shall send to you to your satisfaction As for what you desir'd me to buy you I have sent it by the Carrier but you must pardon me if I refuse to put it to account I freely present you with it who am Sir your Friend and Servant J. Bowlestre The Writer of this Letter said Chappel is no less than a Baronet born to Two thousand a year And writes such a servile Letter pursu'd Temple to a Taylor for such is this Woodford I know him said Brook by the experience of his plaguâ— Bills This shews said Grave that by being in debt one makes 〈◊〉 self the Slave of the Creditor Debt pursued Winter makes a Mechanic familiar and sawcy with Quality But Quality answer'd Church has a Receipt of humbling that Sawâ—iness by never paying And yet pursu'd â—iver some of the Mechanics had rather have the honor of working for Quality thaâ— the Mony of the meaner sort I knew a Dutch Shoemaker added Fountain of that humor and for his Work he talk'd Politics with them at the Coffee-house Their Pride continu'd Summer makes way for the others wronging 'em of their due But concluded Winter their Quality is not much honor'd is sharping on the Vices of their Inferiors LETTER XL. From an old Woman in love with a young Man 'T was directed to Mr. Scuthborough to be 〈◊〉 for him at Hypolito's in Bridget-street near the Theatre Royal London Dear Mr. Scuthborough Oxfordshire Iune 1692. YOur repeated Letters to my Daughter tho she has assured you of her Pre-engagement convince me that you are not inâ—ensible of Love but I have often told you of your fruitless Endeavours there and how much you were her Aversion I have also told you there was another Lady in the World who would receive your Address with a more favourable Ear and said enough I thought to make you understand whom I meant if my Eyes had not been sufficient to have betray'd the Secret to you I am unwilling to think my Age or Fortune so contemptible as to be slighted by you and therefore I hope this confession of my Love will be look'd upon as a modest assurance in my own Deserts and not an overfondness of you tho ingranting I love you I grant you worthy of that Fondness I hope you are a man of Honor to make no use of this to my Prejudice Remember that Youth is the Seat of Deceit and fickle Inconstancy its wishes and desires are rambling no more to be bounded than a Torrent and Inundatiâ—n but Age I mean Maturity past which I presume you can't suppose me is more fixt as well as more violent in Love continues pleas'd with its choice and neither desires nor thinks of any change If Youth has more of the sparkling gaudiness of Beauty it has also the less care as well as skill to please And I think without vanity my Face has not lost all its charms when my Heart admits of new Fires In short pray let us see you here as soon as your occasions will permit I intend for the Town in the Winter who am Your humble Servant Eugenia Allson This Letter is writ said Chappel with the Soul of a Woman in which Passion and Pride are so mingled that it discovers not a little Cunning. Cunning said Winter in Folly Yes return'd I there may be a great deal of Cunning us'd in compassing that which perhaps may be a Folly True pursu'd Temple for 't is no better than Folly for a woman that is old to think to divert a passion from a young Lady to her self And yet you see she aims at it in this Letter interrupted River with a great deal of Art Right continu'd Summer by first presenting him with despair of the desired Object And then added Fountain presenting with an Object of Interest which is commonly taking with a man that is disappointed of his Love And lastly said Church by proposing the difference betwixt the two with the Advantage to the latter Woman concluded Graâ—e is exorbitant and irregular in her Lusts and Desires but regular and skilful to gratifie them LETTER XLI From an Irish-man to his Creditor Directed to Mr. Russel a Peruque-maker in Drury-lane London Dear Ioy Tunbridge June 1692. BY my Shoulwasion Ee was in hopes before nu indeed to have pleas'd thee sweet Faash of thee bee St. Patric with some Mony for the two last Perriwigs but bee Chreest and St Patric Ee was indeed disappointed of mee Bills of Exchange from mee Steward in Ereland dear Joy but bee mee Shoulwasion Ee will turn him out of his Plaash indeed when Ee return home Mee good Lady your Weef indeed can tell you the truth of these for Ee have shew'd her a Letter of it which came bee me veree good Friend indeed Teague Mack Allon that was Mashor-General bee mee Shoul washion when Ee was Under-Marshal of France and bee Chreest mee good Friend he is a very good Paymaster if thee canst but get him to bee thee Customer Chreest bless thee sweet Faush indeed commend me to thee sweet Spouse she is a very good Woman bee mee Shoulwasion dear Joy Thee maist direct to me at a Housh bee Chreest about the meedle of a Street in Tunbridge mee Landlord's Daughter bee Chreest and St. Patric married the Miller's Son of a Village within a mile of this place his great Grandmother was a Gentlewoman bee mee Shoulwasion and sold Wine at the Wells and his Grandfather bee the Mothers â—ide was call'd Honest Dic and wore Leather-Breeks indeed and Ee remember when Ee was in Ereland dear Joy Ee was us'd to reede a hunting in Leather-Breeches and Leather-Boots too Ee am bee mee Shoulwasion Thee veree humble Servant Teague O Donnel Bee Chreest and St. Patric Ee had forget the best thing for your cold is Bonniclabar and the best thing in the World for the Gout is Bonniclabar and indeed dear Joy Bonniclabar is good for e'ery thing I love not National Reflections said Temple But the dulness pursu'd Winter of this
his children out of doors as soon as he married you and that sweet Lady was the effect of Wisdom which Love is too great an Enemy to But I suppose 't will not be worth my while to clear you of the next point since it will not be much resented by the World that you should be so providential a Lady as upon my Wives Fathers Death to keep your Room warm with two pair of Hangings and would not gratifiâ— the prying Executor tho 〈◊〉 the way he was but a Coxcomb for not forcing you to 't to let him see your Chamber to convince him that you had nothing there but your due that you had hid Pewter under the Faggoâ—s in the Garret and a great many more such odious Calumnies too long to be repeated here Perhaps I may not be able to clear you of all these Imputations yet I 'll warrant you I 'll do you this Kindness that your Name shall be known from the Sheriffs to the Porter and from my fine Lady Mayoress to the little the Oysterwench in her lawful and virtuous Occupation at the Tavern door Oh how will you be esteem'd as a Pattern of the best of Mother-in-laws so tender and loving of your fond Husbands Off-spring that you 'd not part with Ten pound to keep 'em in this wicked World tho you were sure of your Money again Garagantula himself nor any of the terrible Race of the Hobgoblins shall be more rever'd by children than your Name For to shew you that my zeal for the exaltation of your Honor and Glory is not confined to the narrow compass of a Nuneupatory Epistle I le bring you acquainted with the Beaux of the Pit in a Comedy I 'm writing and with the religious Multitude in a Ballad just now in the Mint to the celebrated Tune of Chevy Chase by which you may be sure no County of this spacious Land nor Village or Fair but shall hear the Glories of your Faith and Nature sounded with the vocal Harmony of Male and Female Ballad-singers But that you may have no cause of Offence I 'll use you as we Authors do our Patrons take your Silence for Consent and without 〈…〉 ado print your name at the front of my Epistle Madam you can't imagine how happy a thing 't is to oblige us Scriblers for we have a rare Art of immortalizing our Friends as well as Enemies tho in a different manner Perhaps you 'l be so modest now for I know you abound in all sorts of Virtues as to wish you had comply'd with my Wife and prevented this Honor but Madam I am confident a Lady of your admirable Qualifications can't but delight to see them expos'd to the World in their proper colours which must not be pleasant to you alone but also to your whole Parish that must be proud of such a Parishioner But I have been so tedious that I must here conclude because my Paper will not let me say any more unless I have recourse to an Endorsement I 'll leave off therefore betwixt Necessity and Desire and make my Exit like Prince Volcius in the Rehearsal with one Boot on 〈◊〉 another off who am Your extreamly-oblig'd Son-in-law R. Illford Here 's a true Character said I of one of those â—â—digious Monsters in Nature a Stepmother True 〈◊〉 Brook all the old Stories reviv'd and their 〈◊〉 Quality combin'd in one Strange preposterous 〈◊〉 said Grave in Man that for the sake of 〈◊〉 thought a fond doting Husband should merit the 〈◊〉 of a Knave Fool and Cuckold Right 〈◊〉 Winter and forget all the Bonds of Nature for 〈◊〉 that discovers so little value for him to hate his 〈◊〉 True said River and so endeavour'd to 〈◊〉 his Name and Family A just Reward 〈◊〉 Fountain on him that could be such a Fool To clap his Reason interrupted Chappel under his 〈…〉 The Gentleman said Summer 〈◊〉 ingeniously rally'd her without incurring the Law But all he 'll get by 't answer'd Church is but a greatâ—r Certainty of her Hate Which I think concluded Temple was no great matter since he was 〈◊〉 of that before by her Denial and women of 〈◊〉 Kidny seldom relent or grow better the Curse of Hypocrisie and Cruely pursuing them to final 〈◊〉 LETTER XLIV From a Gentleman to his Friend relating what several great things his Mony had effected for him 'T was directed to Mr. Norris Merchant London Dear Sir Amsterdam June 16â—â— SInce I left you and England I have expendeâ— all that Money I return'd over hither by you and therefore desire you to do me the same 〈◊〉 again the other Thousand pound may 〈◊〉 to gain my point if as intend I apply it 〈◊〉 to that use what I have spent already has convine'd me that Mony will do any thing as a 〈◊〉 of which I here send you a little of my great Experience in this Affair Upon my first arrival 〈◊〉 brought over some prohibited Goods and had the ill fortune to have 'em found out by the Tyde-Waiters but less than half the value into their own Pockets secured them from the public so that their Oath and Trust were not Proof against Gold Next coming to quarter at a Merchants House to whom I had Letters of Recommendation I found he had a Wife beautiful young and chasâ— as she was generally thought but by Gold I gained admittance to her Bed where being caught by the Husband Gold soften'd his Indignation and gave me a more secure and free access to her But weary of that I posted to some neighbouring Courts upon the Negotiation you wrot of and there I found Gold open the Secrets of Princes debauch the Honour of Ladies the Religion of Devotes and the Integrity of Servants oblig'd to their Masters for their very Life and Bread Meeting with some Controversies in my Dealings I found always the Judge on my side as well as the Advocate for I open'd the justice of my Cause in a Golden shower Wanting Revenge and the Heart to venture my self in a Duel I for my Gold found those that made no more of a Murder than I do of cutting my Nails In short Mony has made me beautiful tho I am deform'd honest tho a Knave stout tho a Coward virtuous tho an Atheist and yet I 'm as good as the rest of the World who have no more of either than the outside and he that can best disguise his own Failings is the best man Interest is the God of this World who will be sacrificed to by Hypocrisie for Plain-dealing will never gain its Favour Fail not therefore to send me the Mony I write for Mony that purchases Honours Trusts Friendships Beauty Love and Courage send me this divine Elixir and assure your self of the Success of our mutual Profit and Interest who am Yours to command J. Palson 'T is a strange thing to me said River whence Gold has this bewitching Power It shews said Grave the meanness of our Being that is subject
few Years public Peace or Success to any Nation We find that the Roman Empire which was of such strength as to subdue the greatest and most formidable Empires of the Earth is now no more but an empty Name less than the Ghost of the departed Power In the time of Galienus when it seem'd to feel the greatest Convulsions Sapores King of â—ersia having taken the Emperor Valerianus Prisoner Bellosuâ— who stil'd himself King of Kings writing to Sapores upon his Victory says that if he thought the Roman Empire could be overcome he should reioice in his Success firmly believing it should be eternal as the rest of this Letter testifies but we have lived to see it no more thought of as a Terror but a Prey to all Nations so fading is the Glory of the World I tell thee Friend thou art a stranger to thought thou couldst not laugh else whilst Death was besieging thy brittle Careass on every side with the irresistible Artillery of a thousand Accidents Oh leave that lewd thoughtless Town and come and join Sorrows with thy Friend figh out the remainder of thy days for the many trifling Merriments thou hast lost thy self in Believe me this is not only a Duty but a Pleasure Sorrow is natural to a Man he has a taste of it when he first springs from his Mother's Womb and is therefore more agrâ—eeble to his Constitution the Soul seems to be at ease when 't is cloth'd in its Native 〈◊〉 of Tears and Sadness and is not weary as 't is when it has been entertain'd with Mirth and Laughter How can you be so much pleas'd in the Tempest of the World where Sickness Poverty Disgrace and Death toss thy little Bark with such impetuous Fury 't is ten to one if one or all of 'em do not prevail retire therefore to me and to this sad Contemplation sorrow 's our Portion and our Satisfaction I wish thee therefore not like the Friends of this World Joy but multiplicity of Sorrow who am thy real Friend Dâ— Holton Here 's a dismal Letter indeed said Chappel enough to make a Man fall asleep to read it He would have us pursu'd Temple all like the Son of the Emperor Philip that succeeded Gordianus who was never seen to smile He 's one of our moderâ— Cinics added Brook who thinks Wisdom and Devotion lies in Ill-nature and Pale-faces 'T is true said Summer 't is visible that all Humane things are subject to change but for that reason must I vex and cry to no purpose But added River he obliges us to a Certainty and Constancy of sorrow whilst every thing else is upon the swift Whirle of Fate and alters every moment Right pursu'd Fountain the Vicissitude of Things methinks should rather perswade us to a vicissitude of Temper and to mix seriousness and mirth in our Lives According to the Advice of Solomon said Church and the Practice of the Italians He is like the rest of the World spight of his Philosophy pursu'd Winter so unreasonable as to censure all that are not of his mind which proceeds added Grave from the defect of his Constitution and Complexion True concluded I because that enclines him to Melancholy he would have Nature inverted that all Contraries might meet in his Humour LETTER LI. From a poor Gentleman to his rich old Friend that is sick Directed to Mr. Loid at his House in Graves-End in Kent Honour'd Sir London Iune 1662. WE have once been very intimate Friends till Fortune was pleas'd to divide us you she mounted up to the topmost spoke of her revolving Wheel and Death I find has a mind to saveâ— you from falling from it me she cast down to the bottom and no wonder therefore that we could not hear and converse with one another at such a distance But now Death is going to lay you a degree lower than Fortune has me I hope since you can no longer use the benefits of Fortune you 'll part with a small pittance to him you once profess'd to Love I shall value that more than your Heir shall all you 'll leave him Therefore since Wealth cannot be convey'd to the next Life but by Bills of Exchange 't is best to take the surest way and send by God I mean his Friends the Poor and not by the Devil leaving more to them who have too much already This Advice will be profitable to both of us to you hereafter and to me at present who am Your Friend and Servant C. G. The Maxim of Periander said I to thy Friends be the same in Prosperity and Adversity is of very little force in our days whatever it was then It had then answer'd Grave the fate of all good Precepts a great many Admirers but few Observors True pursu'd Winter the Example of Timâ—â— may prove that Nay I was always of Opinion said Church that it was only a vulgar Error that Vices were more numerous now than in days of old The loâ—â—er Writers of those Ages assum'd River as Catullus Petronius Arbiter c. Evince the truth of that nay that if there be any difference pursu'd Fountain the advantage is on our side Our Writer of this Letter said Temple would have found Fortune could 〈◊〉 divided him from his Friend in the days of the Philosophers and Prophets as well as now He deserves relief the replied Chappel from him since he was so civil as never to ask it of him till he found his Friend could have no farther use of it himself but it is ten to one answer'd Brook whether 〈◊〉 gains it or no. True concluded Summer for they that misuse their Wealth in their Lives seldom menâ— their Management at their Death custom having perswaded them of the Wisdom Iustice and Generosity of their Actions tho contrary to all thâ—es LETTER LII From a young Lady who resolved ever to continue a Maid with her Reasons for it Directed to Mrs. Dorothy Wood at Mr. Tompsons near Holbourn bars London Dear Madam Cheshire Iune 1692. YOU send me word that you now begin to think of Marriage leâ—t you should be look'd on as an old Maid that is the Reason I 'll never marry because I would be one of those few wiâ—e 〈◊〉 that merit that Name who have never been polluted with the Embraces of Mankind I sean the 〈◊〉 of Virgins will not be very numerous in the next World any more than in this Chastity is so rare a Giâ—t among us that we think it a greater Scandal than Prostitution and the Daughter of Iephtha deplor'd not that state more heartily than the Women of this Age would in the same Circumstances I love the Vertue that is not common and would be one of the Heroines of my Sex which I can never be in the vulgar way of Wife my Temper is too impatient of controul and I had rather be a slave to my own will than to that of another Besides I have a fancy that there is a real Preference of a
Madam how happy are we in so pure and undefil'd a Love by which Souls mingle e'ery minute in the highest extafie of Union without the impeding help if I may use that seeming contradiction of our Bodies Immortal must our Flame be since the immortal part of us is only interested in it The cause of Inconstancy in Common Love is the Body which being of so changeable a nature 't is impossible it should retain any thing long which has the least dependance upon it But the Soul that is still the same must still persevere in the affection it has once made choice of Wonder not at the Expression Madam for our Loves are the effects of Choice not Fancy Virtue and Wit engage us but Beauty and Vice them both frail and fading as the Joys they bring But ours Madam is the Love of Angels sacred Sympathy unites our Souls and mutual Virtues cement our holy Vows not only till Death but even to the next Life of Glory for it being a Native of Heav'n it cannot lose its Being by returning thither but rather improve it to a greater degree than it could attain here oppos'd by the cloggs of gross material bodies for like Fruits transplanted from a warm to a colder Climate 't is less perfect here tho it still retain its form tast and other Excellencies of its Heav'â—â—â— Nature tho not in so exalted a degree Uninterrupted Joy is the Product of our Passion if it merit so gross a Name without any mixture of Paâ—n 't is like the Vestal Fire burning without material Fuel whereas the other dyes and is soon extinguish'd if depriv'd of its Fuel Beauty and the auxiliary Bellows of Strifes and petty Squabbles so small and so unhappy is their Pleasure that they can't arrive at or relish it unless they first and often tast of Pain Satiety attends their Success and Quarrels serve for Exercise to gain them a fresh Appetite 'T would be endless to run through all the Advantages we have above them and impertinent to you who are so sensible of them Nor need I caution you how to preserve the Empire you have obtain'd over your Body since you know the Body is a true Coward where it has the mastery being a Tyrant but where 't is overpower'd easily kept in servâ—le awe I shall therefore only now subscribe my self Madam Your Admirer and zealous Lover A. James My Life on 't said Chappel this is some antiquated Batchelor whose Sins of his Youth have made him abominate Matrimony Or rather interrupted Brook disabled him from Matrimonial Performances and therefore prudently pursu'd Temple hides his bodily defect under the Mask of Platonic Love And she some super animated Matron said River that has been neglected in a carnal way even by her own Coachman Right assum'd Grave a Woman never forgets the Flesh till her Skin 's turn'd into Buckram by Age. Nor then neither added Winter if she can â—ake it subtile and smooth to some younger Brother by her Fortune This Lady therefore said Summer must be poor as well as old she would never else take up with empty Alms of Passion meer words 'T is well said I she can make a Virtue of Necessity and fly to the Spirit when she can't make use of the Flesh. Platonic Love said Church if we may judge by the Founder's words is not without its secret Heautâ—â—ust of the Flesh I 'm sure Plato seems to relish the Kiss of Agatho with all the fire of the most amorous Debauchee Right concluded Fountain 't is only a demure Bawd to secret whoring they being the greatest Friends to the Flesh in a Corner who espouse the Spirit so much in the face of the World LETTER LXIV From one beyond Sea expressing his desire of returning to his own native Country 'T was directed to Mr. Gregory at his House in Charles-street Westminster London Honour'd Master Hague June 1692. THE Obligations I have to you engage me to return my Thanks as often as I may without being too chargeable or too troublesome to you I am asham'd to let you know on how ill-deserviâ—â— a Subject you have plac'd all your Favours for must confess I had rather be confin'd to my natiâ—â— low condition in my own Country than have thâ— Place of Preferment you were so generously pleaâ—â— to obtain for me The Splendor of the Court wheâ— 't is here nor the Civilities of the Natives or mâ— own Countrymen nay scarce the Advantages â— Interest can make amends for the loss of old Eâ—gland the hopes of seeing which after the Camâ—â—pagn is over keeps me alive With my Respectâ— and Duty to my Mistriss and your self I subscribâ— my self SIR Your ever oblig'd humble and faithful Servant John Robinson Here 's one said Grave eaten up with the Epidemic Distemper of Mankind The doting addeâ— Brook on ones own Country Which is better reply'd Temple in my mind than that Contempt 〈◊〉 men shew for the place of their birth The love of one native Country pursu'd Riverâ— has such a swâ—â— ascendant over us that it will not let us forget it 〈◊〉 the greatest plenty nor in the remotest parts of the World True continu'd Fountain and we measure the fulness of our Happiness by the distance or nearâ—ness it sets us in from thence The Pleasures an Grandeur of old Rome were scarce Bribes enough saiâ—â— Church to win the Captives from a desire of theâ— own barren Country There 's no greater Proof of thiâ— added Summer than the Inhabitants of some of thâ— most Northern parts of Norway where one would woâ—◠〈◊〉 any of human race should endure to live the insoâ—â—nce of the winds being there so great that it blows way the tops of Houses and Trees up by the Roots at the People chuse rather to live there in Caves like â—easts than to seek some more Hospitable abode Espeâ—â—ally said Chappel since the World is so wide and â— much of the finest Country in the World uninhabited â— some parts of America But pursu'd I this is â—ot so terrible as to live near the Mountains Vesaâ—ius or Aetna the very reading of the account Pliny 〈◊〉 younger gives of the fiery Inundation in his twenâ—â—eth Letter of his sixth Book to Cornelius Tacitus â—ould make a man have a care of coming within some â—agues of it But this â—ondness of the Country we are â—orn in concluded Winter seems to me a piece of â—igottry since it goes so far beyond what Reasin reâ—uires and since the whole World is the Country of a â—ise man LETTER LXV From a Coward to his intimate Friend to assist him to gain the Reputation of a man of Courage by parting him in a Duel be must be engag'd in 'T was directed to Mr. at Mr. Herd's near Tunbridge-wells in Kent With care and Speed Dear NED London June 1692. THE confidence I put in you when you read this Letter which is to desire your immediate return to London for I happen'd to be in company last night
advises his Friend to Dissimulation in all his Actions 'T was directed to Mr. Johnson at his Lodging at Mr. Moudy's in Thredneedle-street London SIR Rutland June 1692. YOU send me Letter on Letter of complaint of the Perfidiousness of your Friends and the Villany of Men who still deceive you and I must tell you Sir you may thank your self for it You are for Plain-dealing you love not to say one thing and think another and you reap the Fruit of what you love that is Ruin and Contempt in the end All that I can do is only to advise you to alter your methods and live as other men do that is never be what you seem to be If you would injure a man profess a great deal of Friendship for him and so he 'l not be upon his Guard and you may strike home If you 'd seem honest talk much of Religion but observe but little Morality And so in all your actions put on another Face than what they tend to and by that means you may chance to rub through the sharping World As my Advice is the best Service I can do you so is this the best Advice I can give you who am Yours to command S. Grimault This Gentleman said Winter is learn'd in Mankind True pursu'd Church for Dissimulation is so general that 't is become necessary Right added Temple for he that knows not how to dissemble knows not how to live If you can't live temperately said Summer sin at least with caution so that if you are not free from Vice you may at least be so from the scandal and punishment of it Once failing to dissemble said Brook cost Claudius's Life as well as the good Emperor Probus 'T would be endless to run through all that History presents us with added River it gave occasion to Nero to exercise his Cruelty on his nearest Relations And pursu'd Fountain to Jugurtha to destroy the Son of him that had made him Co-heir in the Kingdom of Numidia It seems not only necessary said I for life but ev'n to afford a pleasure too For we shall observe it practis'd very often without any need Right added Chappel for why else should this Foâ— come a mile out of his way to see me only to tell me a Lye that he loves and admires me when before he has turn'd his back he ridicules e'ery word and action I said or did in his company and so on Well therefore concluded Grave may all the world be said to perform the part of an Actor since e'ery body represents another not himself LETTER LXIX To a Friend that advised him to overcome a Passion where he had so little Hopes giving an account of the present state of his Love and his Resolves to endeavour at a Complyance with his Friend's Wishes 'T was directed to Mr. Ed. James at his House near Harwich Essex My Friend I Received your Letter last night in which indeed you discover the Zeal of a Friend but little Consideration for the Frailties of a Lover Hast thou never been in Love thy self that thou shouldst think Advice of any force with those that are so I confess indeed the Arguments you have us'd carry enough of Truth to prevail with my Reason to banish this fatal Passion from my Heart if it was in the power of Reason to do so but alas it has taken Reason captive and domineers o'er e'ery Faculty of my Soul and therefore to little purpose you tell me there are three Obstacles that obstruct my Happiness in the Embraces of the divine BELVIDERA Marriage Modesty and Poverty You urge that being marry'd I can't make her my Wife that being modest and diffident in my self I can't suppose I can prevail on any other Terms since 't is Assurance and Impudence that gain the Sex in that way and lastly that being Poor I ought never to think of Hope since no Advantage can be reap'd from an Intrigue with me Mony you add may gain the fairest noblest most religious and most chast of all the Sex but that Woman seldom commits a Crime without some prospect of Interest Ah my Friend I wish you had in these enumerated all the Difficulties I find I should then have hopes of success For I might presume she being a Lady of incomparable Sence and Judgment and no Bigott would be perswaded of this Truth That one Wife was no more than Custom and national Law and not of force enough to make the Embraces of a married man criminal in the face of Heaven whose Laws are not subservient to those of Men besides a Thousand Arguments more to that purpose As for my Modesty I confess 't is a great fault in Love but BELVIDERA strikes such an Awe into me that I love her with such a profound Veneraâ—ion that I fear it approaches too near Idolatry But yet I have often heard the charming Angel condemn the forward confidence of one that admir'd her for ah there 's none that sees her but must do so wheree'er she passes the dazled Throng stand still and gaze as if she were something more than mortal and when I have told her Impudence was the way to gain the Pair she has my Friend she has declar'd that ne'r should take with her Lastly Poverty would never harm my dear Pretence for she 's not made of vulgar Mould her Soul is charming as her Body BELVIDERA has Wit my Friend but not the flashy noise tattling Wit of Coquets which dwells on Sounds and Words no she has solid Parts knows Nature knows Reason and builds not her Judgment of things on vulgar Notions or common Practices like the rest of the Sex her Soul 's above the contagion of a mercenary Thought so that if a poor Lover had but Merit she would ne'r oppose the guilt of Fortune to his Happiness Had I therefore Merit to plead I should not despair but alas I have none but Love and ah that every one that sees her may plead without a Lye My Friend you are mistaken in calling her Yielding a Crime kind Heaven makes her yield to convince the erring World that 't is not so for she can do no ill and her Example would be the strongest Argument Prithee if thou wouldst leave Bigottry leave it for good and all and rail not at it in this or that and caress it in another thing It was no Crime when natural Religion rul'd the World till State-Politics and Priest-Craft made it so Thus you see Love has destroy'd all the Difficulties your Friendship rais'd You ask me whether I have ever told her of my Passion I answer No unless my tell-tale Eyes or Sighs have betray'd the Secret for when I 've sate wrap'd up in contemplation of her she has ask'd me what was the cause of my Melancholy I dâ—rst not tell the Truth my Friend but ly'd even to my own Prejudice and hence arises one of the Difficulties greater than you propos'd BELVIDERA has declared she 'l ne'r
said I we pursue Happiness before we consider where to find it Mistaking its seat assum'd Temple to be in Dignities and Wealth because added Summer they are dazling and continu'd Fountain under their false Glory conceal their Troubles and Vexations Whereas said Chappel in Study we find present content and concluded Brook same hereafter when the Memory of wealth and Honour is forgot LETTER LXXXIX Of Consolation to one that griev'd very much for the Death of his Wife 'T was directed to Mr. Monson in Bloomsbury-Square London Dear Cousin Newcastle Iune 1692. I Receiv'd your melancholy Letter and confess you have had a great loss in losing a good Wife that being so rare a Jewel in this Age You say you have liv'd with her these nine and thirty Years without any falling out she always paying you that deference and respect due to a Husband and that her you love and indulgence due to a Wife but methinks it ought to be a great comfort to you that you possess'd such a Treasure as this so many Years when so many Accidents and Distempers threatens our Lives e'ry moment Unhappy I confess are the Joys of Love if they could he extinguish'd by the Death of either but the Memory of the deceas'd is a Balm for that Sore and keeps her Image still a live Besides you have Children the more lively Pictures of her he fond of them and be not such a devote to grief for what can't be recover'd as to neglect your Duty to your self and your own Off-spring 'T is to no purpose to use many Arguments Grief being the best cure to it self But I would not have you ever forget her that you may still remember your Children she bore you I only desire you to be moderate in your grief who am Your loving Kinsman Jer. Pool For my part said Church I look upon this to be but a piece of Ceremony for I can't think any Man so fond a Husband as to extend his Love beyond the Grave At least added River to that degree as really to want these auxiliary Consolations I have known some said Chappel to my cost that have appear'd as much concerned for their Wifes who have yet marry'd within a Year or two and forgot them so much added Temple as to turn her Children out of door to make room for new Wifes But there is a great deal said Grave owing to the length of time they have liv'd together True assum'd Summer for we are troubl'd at the loss of a domestick Dog we have had any time much more pursu'd Brook at the Death of one we had so long caress'd in our bosom Besides continu'd I it presents us with a near prospect of Mortality Right continu'd Fountain to have death make so near an Approach to us is cause enough of Melancholy But that 's a Melancholy concluded Winter that they soon forget in the Arms of another young Spouse LETTER XC From a Gentleman justifying his much praising his Friends 'T was directed to Mr. Chappel at his Lodgings at Mr. Best 's in Bow-street near Covent-Garden London To me said Chappel starting Well well read it out 't is from some poor dying loving Creature I â—arrant No no said River 't is from some male Friend I assure you have but a little patience and you 'll be satisfy'd in 〈◊〉 Pâ—int My Friend Worcester Iune 1692. YOU send me word that some in your Company were condemning me for magnifying all the Gentlemen of my a quaintance with whom I have the Happiness of any Intimacy I 'll never deny the Accusation I glory in For what Crime can be more pardonable than that of generous kindness for the Men I profess to value But do these Gentlemen that condemn me pretend to know my Friends better than my self But if they do ler ' â—m not envy me my happy Error if they are not so deserving as I declare themâ— yet I 'm happy in thinking them so Let them therefore bestow their ill natur'd Remarks somewhere else for there are enough who think it a point of Iudgment to carp and ridicule their Friends they shall never perswade me that I can love mine too much who am Thy Friend and Servant Wal. Kalesby He 's eternally praising all his intimates said Chappel and 't is enough to be of his acquaintance to be a Man of Honour Wit and Courage and all the dispers'd Merits of Mankind 'T is the effects of a generous Nature replied I and I wish he never have a cause to alter his Mind He says very true said Temple that Ill-nature is plentiful enough in the World in censuring all it keeps company with True pursu'd Winter he 's look'd upon as an Ass that can't find more Faults than Vertues in his absent Friend He errs said Church of the honest tho most dangerous side I rather attribute it return'd River to his Youth than Vertue True assum'd Summer for most young Men that are ignorant of the Town and the general Rogueries of Mankind are guilty of an over confidence in all that profess a kindness for them Till to their cost conâ—â—nu'd Fountain Age better instructs them Age â—ay instruct them answer'd Grave not to be over confident in any Man but can never justifie their abusing particulars without a particular cause which concluded Brook if it be sufficient for abuse is sufficient to break off Friendship for 't is unaccountâ—â—le that we should affect the Conversation of 〈…〉 â—e contemn or hate LETTER XCI From a young Lady to her Gallant to whom she had yielded and who was still constant 'T was directed to Mr. Polly to be left for him at Sander'â— Coffee-house near the Dog Tavern in Drury-Lane London Dear Sylvio THO' my Mother has oblig'd me to go into the Country with her yet I will avoid hated absence by keeping thy dear Image my lovely Boyâ— always in my sight for I can find no Crime 〈◊〉 what we have done to make me afraid to think oâ—t with all the 〈◊〉 of Joy we met with in our first 〈◊〉 we were both young and both 〈◊〉 with equâ—l 〈◊〉 Where was then the fault if 〈◊〉 follow'd the dear instinct of Passion and satisfy each others Longing It had been a Siâ— against Nature and Reason as well as Love to have kept our selves in pain for the meer Niceties the hypocritical World stands upon in Words tho' not in Deeds 't is enough we are cautious in our Joys and keep them to our selves My happiness in thy Constancy my Sylvio convinces me I have done nothing but my Duty which makes me think my self the happiest of all my Sex as long as I can subscribe my self thy Love and Constant Eptaelia Here 's a pretty constant innocent Tit said Chappel one assum'd Bâ—ook that has not lost her Innocence with her Maidenbead What says our morose Grave said Temple to this pretty Rogue â—y ay pursu'd Summer does she come within the Crimes of the Sex if not within their Crimes Yet answer'd
'T is Boleau calls a man of Quality Fam'd for Great Soul and Liberality Who late deny it he that can By a strange chance turn'd Gentleman Fortune no more we 'll blame thy blindness Since thou hast shown him so much kindness Thou and that blest that lovely Creature That Miracle of Art and Nature Who last of the long-winded dozen * * A 〈◊〉 number 〈◊〉 it'â— no matter for beiâ—â— very exact Dy'd to oblige so kind a Cozen For which he vows in deathless Verse Which nothing costs t' adorn her Herse Ah! who alas without Anxiety Can think o' th fall of so much Piety Beauteous as Bolean's self or Sary As my Emiâ—ia wise and wary Grave and resolv'd and action slow of As is the Great young man you know of And what among 'em all 's the best lye Full as good-natur'd as Jack Wheatly Iudge if her worth were not uncommon But Man is mortal so is Woman Ah! had not Death with Gall mixt Hony And try'd to bribe our Grief with Mony â—rought cheerful Gold to gild sad Sable 〈◊〉 had been intol * * Here sigh and take breath intolerable But t is that wise consideration Claps a Curb-Bridle on our Passion And makes us with some patience bear This Gain and Loss this heavy Cross Of Five good hundred pounds a year Vouz avez Monsieur Boleau Mayn't you clearly see by this what an awe your â—ew Gentility strikes one with for I cannot for my Life towre above doggrel when I think of you However I 'll try to forget the Gent. Boleau and â—emember one honest Smugle a poor trudging Worm of a Bookseller my Acquaintance and see â—hat I can do for him An Elegy upon the Death of M rs Susannah Boleau HAS powerful Beauty then forgot her Charms Have Piety and Innocence no Arms Is Heaven unjust Are all the Stars unkind Or is Death grown as well as Fortune blind That nothing excellent must long remain But all our Vows and all our Prayers in vain This lovely Virgin by thy Loss we know And little less with Grief than Marble grow Thy Piety while here was so refin'd We hardly thought thee less than perfect Mind And yet thy outward form so made for Love We wonder why the Soul would thence remove Thee all who knew deplore Thee all lament But most Tom Boleau's Mind to Grief is bent With real Grief does his own Gaâ—n coâ—dole Heavy â—t sits upon his mighty Soul Take all the Dross he cries that Fortune gave And Heaven so you 'll restore her fromâ—the Grave Then thinks he sees agen her much-lov'd Face And starting runs from her desir'd Embrace O give me Rest he cries then on the Bed Distract with Cares he leans his aking Head But even in Dreams her lovely Face appears He wakes and finds his Cheeks all drownd witâ— Tearâ— What shall he do his eating Griefs to shun Shall he to Deaths cold Arms for Succourâ—run But lazy Death doth its kind Aid deny Nor ah must he have so much Ease to dye Yet he 'll not live but like sad Biblis stand And deluge with his Tears his native Land While Sighs like Earthquakes heave his troubled Breast Till down he sinks to find eternal Rest. This is an elymosinary Essay said I of an Author for his Bookseller There 's Humour in the first pursu'd Grave and the Sadness of Elegy in the last There 's enough of all Conscience added Brook for Love Right continued Chappel Mony might have made the Poet enlarge That inspires the Author said Winter in his double Capacity as Poet as well as Priest So indeed added Summer his Letter declares him I fear the Bookseller said Temple was more beholden to Death than to his she-Relaâ—ion He would not else added River have grudg'd the paying for her Elegy Oh had he paid his Author said Fountain for it the Joy of the Reward had depriv'd him of the melancholy and sorrowful Thoughts his Subject required Booksellers Pay concluded Church is never so prodigal as to raise an Author above a doleful Ditty LETTER XCVIII From a Lover to his Mistriss in absence 'T was directed to Madam Winton at Mr. Glassrock's in St. Mary-Ax London Oh my Dear 'T IS now almost four days since I saw thy Face tho not so many nights for no sooner has sweet Sleep hush'd my projecting Soul to peaceful Slumbers but thy lovely Image presents its self to the Embraces of my Fancy as a superabundant Reward of all my anxious waking hours But oh 't is not Ideas alone and empty shâ—dows of a distant bliss can satisfie my longings who have so violent a Passion for the Real Substance But why alas should I seek or desire to involve thy sweet Content and Tranquility in my Misfortunes Why should I hinder what I cannot make that is your Happiness 'T is true Reason and Justice require that I should rather perish than see you any more But Love comes in and disdains their tyrannous Impositions and will have me perish at your Feet and I hope without violence I send thee ten thousand Kisses Adieu Poor Charles Absence in Love said Temple is like the death of 〈◊〉 Body the Object of Love being â— like the Soul ravish'd from the Lover I 'm not of your mind replied Grave Absence attones for the thousand Impertineâ—â—â—s the presence of her I love betrays me to And that which is more conducing to our satisfaction pursu'd Winter it gives a greater relish to our Ioys when we meet It keeps those Pleasures alive continu'd Church which fruition and continual presence would destroy For as the incomparable Mr. Dryden says All Objects lose by too familiar view certainly said Chappel Absence to him that truly loves must be the greatest of Torments as Love is the most violent of Passions As 't is excellently describ'd by old Chaucer pursu'd I in his Knights Tale His Sheep his Meat his Drink is him bereft That lean he waxeth and dry as a Shaft His Eyes hollow and grisly to behold His New pale and Ashen to unfold And solitary he was ever alone And waking all the night makin â—moan Here indeed said Brook are all the effects of a desperate â—â—ssion natural and beautiful tho' dreft in so antiâ—â—ated a phrase Spencer pursu'd Summer is of your mind Chappel when he says Nought under Heav'n so strongly doth al'ure The Sense of Man and all his Mind possess As Beautys loveliest Bait that doth procuâ—e Great Warriouâ—s Rest their Rigor to suppress And mighty Hands forget their Manliness These Poets said River drew their Picture from Nature since 't is evident Love triumphs over our other passions Ambition it self being forc'd to submit when once Love opposes it Our modern Volture concluded Fountain views Nature then through another Glass for he makes it the meanest and most indifferent of passions and by consequence Absence no great pain urging that Pastorals because the lowest of Verse are the fittest for the expression of Love LETTER
me approach'd at what time the â—ady being become the Prey of Sheep the good Man came down without his Doublet but laden with Arms to counterpoize the Weight of his Fear He obey'd my Orders by repairing to the place appointed with a promise not to budge till I came to relieve him No sooner was he gone to his â—'ost buâ— away went I with a dark Lanthorn in my hand enter'd the Chamber and so pass'd into the Bed where his Lady was and robb'd him of all that could enrich me with content not caring whither Fidelity were injur'd or Frieâ—dship violated In the height of Enjoyments transported beyond my self I let slip an Ay me an expressive Note of extraordinary pleasure that discover'd my Thievery The Lady was soon sensible of the difference of my Voice which I conceal'd before either by my silence or falsifying the Tone of it in short Accents Which now being let loose to their natural Tone discover'd that I was not her Husband at first she began to cry out as if she had been betray'd making a heavy Stir according to the Custom of her Sex not able to satisfy their Anger or Revenge by force I leapt out of the Bed and putting my self full in the Light I offer'd my Life to attone her fury I held the Lanthorn in one hand and my Dagger in the other with the point turn'd upon my breast showing my resolution to strike if she refus'd me her Compassion For certain said I this Dagger shall pierce my Heart if my Death will be a greater satisfaction to ye than my Love Then Lady make use of your Prudence and make it noâ— your glory to publish your Failings in your Revenge of my Affection The House is full of my own Souldiers from whose fury you must expect the Slaughter of all that oppose my escape which I value not however as being content to fall a Victim to your Divinity if you think your self injur'd by him that adores you So saying I made as if I would give my self the fatal Stab when she stretching forth her hand Hold said she dear Friend since it behoves me not to carry it to height of Cruelty the Dissimulation of that Anger which we Women pretend against those that enjoy us by steaâ—â—h The Lady by means of these so kind and winning Tendernesses being become more dear to me then before I embrac'd her with an excess of Kindness and to satisfie her Curiosity I related to her the whole manner of my contrivance and gave her an accompt of the Stratagem that I had practic'd at my Country-house Our further Discourses were interrupted by a Noise occasion'd by the Motion of armed Men. For that certain Persons coming to the little Door in the Garden suppos'd to be Thieves put the Guard in an uproar And this gave credit to all my Fictims while the Husband thought them to have been the Thieves that were come to rob him of his Perian Wealth And I forsook my Beatitude to hasten to his assistance of which there was no need for that the Thieves being frighted at the noise of People stirring ran away of themselves Thus ended the Comedy with this Advantage for me that being become the Good Man's Confident my Conversation was free from all suspicion On the other side the prudent Wife found out a thousand Excuses for opportunities to make me happy in her Company This was the Issue of my Amours of which I willing to give your Worship an Account to gratifie that common Itch of Lovers who are never so well pleas'd with their Thieveries as when they are publickly known Ascribe to my Passion the Tediousness of the Letter and in exchange of Kindness honour me with a proportionable share of your Commands which you will find obey'd with all imaginable Compliance Behold said Fountain the end of Friendship in our Age wherein our most familiar Acquaintance are they alone that chiefly betray our Reputation I oâ—serve said Chappel that the Heart is the Symbol of true Friendship in regard those Creatures mutually assist each other in their swimming over the River whereby is express'd the necessary Condition of true Friends which obligâ—s 'em to reciprocal Assistance of each other in the greatest Dangers But as Coâ—ly well observes There 's fewer Friends on Earth than Kings and so saâ—ing he read the following Letter LETTER CXXIV Upon the Custom of paying Harlots 'T was directed to Mr. Ralf Banford at his House in Uxbridge With Care and Speed Honour'd Sir I Cannot but enlarge upon a Custom which is chiefly observ'd among the great Men of this World This is the Custom I know not by whom Introduc'd of paying Harlots so much to the prejudice of Man and the Superiority of the Masculine Sex constrain'd to pay for that which Woman as his Inferior is oblig'd to give him freely as a Debt due to his Contentments For to what end was Woman made if not to be subservient to our Pleasures Shall he then suffer a Monster to live in the World under his own shape that shall render Manhood contemptible and his chiefest Glories despicable by acting contrary to Reason and Judgment Shall he endure the Insolencies of his Slave to the forming of whom while he gave a Rib he bound her with a Chain of Bondage as being bought with his own Flesh Shall he bend under so great a Misfortune as to have enliven'd Inâ—elicity a living Tyranny and Hell in Epitom all combin'd together in a walking Frame And when he thinks to enjoy those Pleasures in the use of her for which alone she was born must he be forc'd to pay through the Nose for ' em Must a Man be forc'd to humble himself with a paltry Servâ—lâ—ty even to Adoration to be subject to Multâ—plicity of Cares to weary his Mind in the Government of his Passions and turmoil his Body with amorous Fatigues and instead of a Reward for all this shall he forc'd to purchase his Refreshments Good God! how blind is this World and how bewitch'd are unhappy Mortals who are faiâ— to buy their own Misâ—ries and the worst of Curses which they incur in common by conversing with Harlots wasting the choicest of their Substance and consuming their Wealth This was certainly an Aâ—â—ifice of the Devil the deadly Enemy of the Contentments of our Sex among which those of our Lasciviousness being the most desirable he would embitter 'em with the Expence of that which is to us more necessary and grateful Can Men in reason envy the Condition of Brutes and desire that Authority which advances the Masculine Sex above the Female in every individual Creature that whenever his Appetite excites him has the Gratification of it without bargaining to pay for his Pleasures A poor Lover shall be worst us'd than a Dog and if he have no Money shall be depriv'd of those Pleasures that are not refus'd to a Beast Acâ—uâ—sâ—d Custom in Conformity to which the amorous Dance is regulated and govern'd by the