Tulip's colour changed at the reading of this epiftle; for which reafon his miftrefs fnatched it to read the contents. While fhe was doing fo, Tulip went away, and the ladies now agreeing in a common calamity, bewailed together the dangers of their lovers. They immediately un. dreffed to go out, and took hackneys to prevent mifchief: but, after alarming all parts of the town, Craftin was found by his widow in his pumps at Hide-Park, which appointment Tulip never kept, but made his escape into the country. Flavia tears her hair for his inglorious fafety, curfes and defpifes her charmer, is fallen in love with Craftin: which is the first part of the hiftory of the Rival Mother.

No 92. FRIDAY, JUNE 15.

-Convivæ propè diffentire videntur, Pofcentes vario multùm diverfa palato ; Quid dem? Quid non dem


-What wou'd you have me do,
When out of twenty I can please not two?-
One likes the pheafant's wing, and one the leg;
The vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg:
Hard talk, to hit the palate of such guests.


In the fecond clafs I fhall mention books which are recommended by husbands, if I may believe the writers of them. Whether or no they are real husbands or perfonated ones I cannot tell, but the books they recommend are as follow. A Paraphrafe on the History of Susannah. Rules to keep Lent. The Chriftian's Overthrow prez HOR. Ep. 2. 1. 2. v. 61. vented. A Diffuafiye from the Play-house. The Virtues of Camphire, with Directions to make Camphire Tea. The pleasures of a country life, The Government of the Tongue. A letter dated from Cheapfide defires me that I would advise all young wives to make themfelves miftreffes of Wingate's Arithmetic, and concludes with a poftfcript, that he hopes I will not forget The Countefs of Kent's Receipts.

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POPE, OOKING over the late packets of letters have been fent to me, found the



OUR paper is a part of my tea-equipage; and my fervant knows my humour fo well, that calling for my breakfast this morning, it being past my ufual hour, she answered, the Spectator was not yet come in; but that the tea kettle boiled, and the expected it every * moment. Having thus in part fignified to you the esteem and veneration which I have for you, I must now put you in mind of the catalogue of books which you have promised to recommend <to our fex; for I have deferred furnishing my clofet with authors, until I receive your advice in this particular, being your daily difciple and humble fervant,

commends to me Mr. Mede upon the Revelations. A fourth lays it down as an unquestionable truth, that a lady cannot be thoroughly accomplished who has not read The fecret Treaties and Negociations of Marfhal D'Eftrades. Mr. Jacob Tonfon, jun. is of opinion, that Bayle's Dictionary might be of very great ufe to the ladies, in order to make them general scholars. Another, whofe name I have forgotten, thinks it highly proper that every woman with child should read Mr. Wall's Hiftory of Infant Baptifm; as another is very importunate with me to recommend to all my female readers The finishing Stroke; being a Vindication of the Patriarchal Scheme, &c.


In answer to my fair difciple, whom I am very proud of, I muft acquaint her and the reft of my readers, that fince I have called out for help in my catalogue of a lady's library, I have received many letters upon that head, fome of which I fhall give an account of.

In the first clafs 1 fhall take notice of thofe which come to me from eminent bookfellers, who every one of them mention with refpect the authors they haye printed, and confequently have an eye to their own advantage more than to that of the ladies. One tells me, that he thinks it abfolutely neceffary for women to have true notions of right and equity, and that therefore they cannot perufe a better book than Dalton's Country Juftice: another thinks they cannot be without The Complete Jockey. A third obferving the curifity and defire of prying into fecrets, which he tells me is natural to the fair fex, is of opinion this female inclination, if well directed, might turn very much to their advantage, and therefore re


clafs among thefe my correfpondent and privyI may reckon the ladies themselves as a third a from one them, I am advised to place Pharamond at the head of my catalogue, and, if I think proper, to give the fecond place to Caffandra. Coquetilla begs me not to think of nailing women upon their knees with manuals of devotion, nor of fcorching their faces with books of housewifery. Florella defires to know if there are anybooks written against prudes; and intreats me, if there are, to give them a place in my library. Plays of all forts have their feveral advocates. All for Love is mentioned in above fifteen letters; Sophonisba, or Hannibal's Overthrow, in a dozen; the Innocent Adultery is likewife highly approved of: Mithridates King of Pontus has many friends; Alexander the Great and Aurengzebe have the fame num ber of voices; but Theodofius, or the Force of Love, carries it from all the reft.

I should, in the last place, mention fuch books as have been propofed by men of learning, and thofe who appear competent judges of this matter, and muft here take occafion to thank A. B. whoever it is that conceals himfelf under thofe two letters, for his advice upon this fubject: but as I find the work I have undertaken, to be very difficult, I fhall defer the executing of it until I am further acquainted with the thoughts of my judicious contemporaries, and have time to examine the feveral books they offer to me; being refolved, in an affair of this moment, to proceed with the greatest caution.

In the mean while, as I have taken the ladies under my particular care, I fhall make it my bufinefs to find out in the best authors, ancient and modern, fuch paffages as may be for their use, and endeavour to accommodate them as well as I can to their tafte; not queftioning but the valuable part of the fex will eafily pardon me, if from time to time I laugh at thofe little vanities and follies which appear in the behaviour of fome

fome of them, and which are more proper for ridicule than a serious cenfure. Most books being calculated for male readers, and generally writ ten with an eye to men of learning, makes a work of this nature the more neceffary; befides I am the more encouraged, becaufe I flatter my felf that I fee the fex daily improving by these my fpeculations. My fair readers are already deeper fcholars than the beaux; I could name fome of them who talk much better than feveral gentlemen that make a figure at Will's; and as I frequently receive letters from the fine Ladies and pretty Fellows, I cannot but observe that the former are fuperior to the others, not only in the fenfe but the fpelling. This cannot but have a good effect upon the female world, and keep them from being charmed by thofe empty coxcombs that have hitherto been admired among the women, though laughed at among the men.

Fam credibly informed that Tom Tattle paffes for an impertinent fellow, that Will Trippet begins to be fmoked, and that Frank Smoothly himfelf is within a month of a coxcomb, in cafe I think fit to continue this paper. For my part, as it is my business in fome measure to detect fuch as would lead aftray weak minds by their falfe pretences to wit and judgment, humour and gallantry, I fhall not fail to lend the beft lights I am able to the fair fex for the continuation of thefe their discoveries.


-Spatio brevi

Spem longam referes: dum loquimur, fugerit invida
tas: carpe diem, quàm minimum credula poftero,
HOR, Od. II. l. I. v. 6.
Be wife, cut off long cares
From thy contracted fpan.

E'en whilft we fpeak the envious time
Doth make fwift hafte away:
Then feize the prefent, ufe thy prime,
Nor truft another day.

contented to lose three years in his life, could he place things in the pofture which he fancies they will stand in after fuch a revolution of time. The lover would be glad to strike out of his existence all the moments that are to pafs away before the happy meeting. Thus, as faft as our t me runs, we thould be very glad in most parts of our lives that it ran much fafter than it does. Several hours of the day hang upon our hands, hay we with away whole years, and travel through time as through a country filled with many wild and empty wastes, which we would fain hurry over, that we may arrive at thofe feveral little fettlements or imaginary points of reft which are dif perfed up and down in it.

If we divide the life of moft men into twentyparts, we fhall find that at least nineteen of them are mere gaps and chafms, which are neither filled with pleasure nor bufinefs. I do not however include in this calculation the life of thofe men who are in a perpetual hurry of affairs, but of thofe only who are not always engaged in scenes of action; and I hope I fhall not do an unacceptable piece of fervice to thefe perfons if I point out to them certain methods for the filling up their emp ty fpaces of life. The methods I fhall propofe to them are as follow.

The firft is the exercife of virtue, in the most get neral acceptation of the word. That particular fcheme which comprehends the focial virtues, may give employment to the most industrious temper, and find a man in business more than the most active station of life. To advife the ignorant, relieve the needy, comfort the afflicted, are duties that fall in our way almost every day of our lives. A man has frequent opportunities of mitigating the fiercenefs of a party; of doing juftice to the character of a deferving man; of foftening the en vious, quieting the angry, and rectifying the prejudiced; which are all of them employments fuited to a reafonable nature, and bring great fas tisfaction to the perfon who can bufy himself in them with difcretion.



E all of us complain of the shortness of time, faith Seneca, and yet have much more than we know what to do with. Our lives, fays he, are spent either in doing nothing at all, or in doing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do: we are always complaining our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them. That noble phi lofopher has defcribed our inconfiftency with our felves in this particular, by all thofe various turns of expreffion and thought which are peculiar to his writings.

I often confider mankind as wholly inconfiftent with itself in a point that bears fome affinity to the former. Though we feem grieved at the short nefs of life in general, we are wishing every period of it at an end. The minor longs to be at age, then to be a man of bufinefs, then to make up an eftate, then to arrive at honours, then to retire. Thus although the whole of life is allowed by every one to be hort, the feveral divifions of it appear long and tedious. We are for lengthening our fpan in general, but would fain contract the parts of which it was compofed. The ufurer, would be very well fatisfied to have all the time, annihilated that lies between the prefent moment and next quarter-day. The politician would be

There is another kind of virtue that may find employment for thofe retired hours in which we are altogether left to ourselves, and deftitute of company and conversation; I mean that inter courfe and communication which every reafonable creature ought to maintain with the great Author of his being. The man who lives under an habitual fenfe of the divine prefence keeps up a perpetual chearfulness of temper, and enjoys every moment the fatisfaction of thinking himfelf in company with his dearest and beft of friends. The time never lies heavy upon him; it is impoffible for him to be alone. His thoughts and paffions are the most bufied at fuch hours when thofe of other men are the most inactive; he no fooner fteps out of the world but his heart burns with devotion, fwells with hope, and triumphs in the confcioufnefs of that prefence which every where furrounds him; or, on the contrary, pours out its fears, its forrows, its apprehenfions, to the great fupporter of its existence.

I have here only confidered the neceflity of a man's being virtuous, that he may have fomething to do; but if we confider further, that the exercife of virtue is not only an amusement for the time it lafts, but that its influence extends to thofe parts of our exiftence which lie beyond the grave, and that our whole Eternity is to take its colour from thofe hours, which we here employ in virtue or in vice, the argument redoubles upon


us, for putting in practice this method of paffing away our time.

When a man has but a little ftock to improve, and has opportunities of turning it all to good account, what fhall we think of him if he suffers nineteen parts of it to lie dead, and perhaps employs even the twentieth to his ruin or difadvantage? But because the mind cannot be always in

its fervors, nor frained up to a pitch of virtue, it is neceffary to find out proper employments for it in its relaxations.

The next method therefore that I would propose to fill up our time, fhould be useful and innocent diverfions. I must confefs I think it is below reasonable creatures to be altogether converfant in fuch diverfions as are merely innocent, and have nothing else to recommend them, but that there is no hurt in them. Whether any kind of gaming has even thus much to fay for it felf, I thall not determine; but I think it is very wonderful to fee perfons of the best fenfe paffing away a dozen hours together in fhuffling and dividing a pack of cards, with no other converfation but what is made up of a few game phrafes, and no other ideas but those of black or red spots ranged together in different figures. Would not a man laugh to hear any one of this fpecies complaining that life is fhort?

The stage might be made a perpetual fource of the most noble and ufeful entertainments, were it under proper regulations.

But the mind never unbends itfelf fo agreeably as in the conversation of a well-chofen friend. There is indeed no bleffing of life that is any way comparable to the enjoyment of a difcreet and virtuous friend. It eafes and unloads the mind, clears and improves the understanding, engenders thoughts and knowledge, animates virtue and good refolution, fooths and allays the paffions, and finds employment for most of the vacant hours of life.

A man that has a tafte in mufic, painting, or architecture, is like one that has another fenfe when compared with fuch as have no relish of thofe arty. The florift, the planter, the garden. er, the busbandman, when they are only as accomplishments to the man of fortune, are great reliefs to a country life, and many ways ufeful to those who are poffeffed of them.

But of all the diverfons of life, there is none fo proper to fill up its empty spaces, as the reading of useful and entertaining authors. But this I shall only touch upon, because it in fome meafare interferes with the third method, which I fhall propofe in another paper, for the employ. ment of our dead unactive bodies, and which I fhall only mention in general to be the pursuit of knowledge.

Next to fuch an intimacy with a particular perfon, one would endeavour after a more general converfation with fuch as are able to entertain and improve those with whom they converfe, which are qualifications that feldom go afunder.

There are many other useful amufements of life, which one would endeavour to multiply, that one might on all occafions have recourfe to fomething rather than fuffer the mind to lie idle," or run adrift with any paffion that chances to rife in it,

No. 94. MONDAY, JUNE 18.
Hoc eft


Vivere bis, vitâ poffe priore frui.

Mart. Epig. 23. l. 13. The prefent joys of life we doubly tafte, By looking back with pleasure on the paft.

HE laft method which I propofed in my Sa

fpaces of life which are so tedious and burden-, fome to idle people, is the employing ourselves in the purfuit of knowledge. I remember Mr. Boyle, fpeaking of a certain mineral, tells us, that a man may confume his whole life in the study of it, without arriving at the knowledge of all its qualities. The truth of it is, there is not a single fcience, or any branch of it, that might not furnish a man with bufinefs for life, though it were much longer than it is.

I fhall not here engage on thofe beaten fubjects of the ufefulness of knowledge, nor of the pleasure and perfection it gives the mind, nor on the me thods of attaining it, nor recommend any particular branch of it, all which have been the topics of many other writers; but fhall indulge myself in a fpeculation that is more uncommon, and may therefore perhaps be more entertaining.

I have before fhewn how the unemployed parts of life appear long and tedious, and shall here endeavour to fhew how thofe parts of life which are exercifed in ftudy, reading, and the pursuits of knowledge, are tong but not tedious, and by that means discover a method of lengthening our lives, and at the fame time of turning all the parts of them to our advantage.

Mr. Locke obferves, "That we get the idea "of time, or duration, by reflecting on that "train of ideas which fucceed one another in "our minds: That for this reafon when we "fleep foundly without dreaming, we have no


perception of time, or the length of it, whilst "we fleep; and that the moment wherein we

leave off to think, until that moment we be"gin to think again, feems to have no diftance." To which the author adds, " and fo I doubt not "but it would be to a waking man, if it were "poffible for him to keep only one idea in his

mind, without variation, and the fucceffion of "others; and we fee, that one who fixes his "thoughts very intently on one thing, fo as to "take but little notice of the fucceffion of ideas "that pafs in his mind whilft he is taken up "with that earneft contemplation, lets flip out "of his account a good part of that duration, " and thinks that time fhorter than it is."

We might carry this thought further, and confider a man as, on one fide, fhortening his time by thinking on nothing, or but a few things; fo, on the other, as lengthening it, by employing his thoughts on many fubjects, or by entertaining a quick and conflant fucceffion of ideas. Accordingly Monfieur Mallebranche, in his Inquiry after Truth, which was published feveral years before Mr. Locke's Effay on Human Understanding, tells us, that it is poffible fome creatures may think half an hour as long as we do a thousand years; or look upon that space of duration which we call a minute, as an hour, a week, a month, or a whole age,

This notion of Monfieur Mallebranche, is ca pable of fome little explanation from what I

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have quoted out of Mr. Locke; for if our notion of time is produced by our reflecting on the fucceffion of ideas in our mind, and this fucceffion may be infinitely accelerated or retarded, it will follow, that different beings may have different notions of the fame parts of duration, according as their ideas, which we fuppofe are equally diftinct in each of them, follow one another in a greater or lefs degree of rapidity.

There is a famous paffage in the Alcoran, which looks as if Mahomet had been poffeffed of the notion we are now speaking of. It is there faid, that the angel Gabriel took Mahomet out of his bed one morning to give him a fight of all things in the feven heavens, in paradife, and in hell, which the prophet took a distinct view of; and after having held ninety thousand conferences with God, was brought back again to his bed. All this, fays the Alcoran, was tranfacted in so small a space of time, that Mahomet at his return found his bed ftill warm, and took up an earthen pitcher, which was thrown down at the very inftant that the an gel Gabriel carried him away, before the water was all spilt.

There is a very pretty story in the Turkish Tales which relates to this paffage of that famous impoftor, aad bears fome affinity to the fubje&t we are now upon. A fultan of Egypt, who was an infidel, used to laugh at this circumftance in Mahomet's life, as what was altogether impoffible and abfurd: but converfing one day with a great doctor in the law, who had the gift of working miracles, the doctor told him he would quickly convince him of the truth of this paffage in the hif tory of Mahomet, if he would confent to do what he fhould defire of him. Upon this the fultan was 'directed to place himself by an huge tub of water, which he did accordingly; and as he ftood by the tub amidst a circle of his great men, the holy man bid him plunge his head into the water, and draw it up again: the king accordingly thruft his head into the water, and at the fame time found himfelf at the foot of a mountain on a fea-fhore. The king immediately began to rage against his doctor for this piece of treachery and witchcraft; but at length, knowing it was in vain to be angry, he fet himfelf to think on proper methods for getting a livelihood in this ftrange country: accordingly he applied himself to fome people whom he faw at work in a neighbouring wood: these people conducted him to a town that stood at a little distance from the wood, where, after fome adventures, he married a woman of great beauty and fortune. He lived with this woman fo long until he had by her feven fons and feven daughters; he was afterwards reduced to great want, and forced to think of plying in the streets as a porter for his livelihood. One day as he was walking alone by the fea-fide, being feized with many me, lancholy reflections upon his former and his prefent ftate of life, which had raifed a fit of devotion in him, he threw off his clothes with a defign to wafh himself, according to the cuftom of the Mahometans, before he faid his prayers.

After his first plunge into the fea, he no fooner raifed his head above the water but he found himself standing by the fide of the tub, with the great men of his court about him, and the holy man at his fide. He immediately upbraided his teacher for having fent him on fuch a course of adventures, and betrayed him into fo long a state of misery, and fervitude; but was wonderfully furprifed when he heard that the state he talked of was only

a dream and delufion; that he had not stirred from the place where he then ftood; and that he had only dipped his head into the water, and immediately taken it out again.

The Mahometan Doctor took this occafion of inftructing the fultan, that nothing was impoffible with God; and that He, with whom a thousand years are but as one day, can, if he pleafes, make a fingle day, nay a fingle moment, appear to any of his creatures as a thousand years.

I shall leave my reader to compare thefe Eaftern fables with the notions of thofe two great Philofophers whom I have quoted in this paper; and fhall only by way of application, defire him to confider how we may extend life beyond its natural dimensions, by applying ourselves diligently to the pursuits of knowledge.

The hours of a wife man are lengthened by his ideas, as thofe of a fool are by his paffions, the time of the one is long, because he does not know what to do with it; fo is that of the other, because he diftinguishes every moment of it with ufeful or amufing thoughts; or in other words, because the one is always withing it away, and and the other always enjoying it.

How different is the view of paft life, in the man who is grown old in knowledge and wifdom, from that of him who is grown old in ignorance and folly? The latter is like the owner of a barren country that fills his eye with the profpect of naked hills and plains, which produce nothing either profitable or ornamental; the other beholds a beautiful and fpacious landscape divided into delightful gardens, green meadows, fruitful fields, and can scarce caft his eye on a fingle spot of his poffeffions, that is not covered with fome beautiful plant or flower. L

No 95.


Cura leves loquuntur, ingentes flupent.
Light forrows fpeak, great grief is dumb.


AVING read the two following letters with much pleasure, I cannot but think the good fenfe of them will be as agreeable to the town as any thing I could fay either on the topics they treat of, or any others. They both allude to former papers of mine, and I do not question but the first, which is upon inward mourning, will be thought the production of a man who is well acquainted with the generous yearnings of diftress in a manly temper, which is above the relief of tears. A fpeculation of my own on that subject I fhall defer until another occafion.

The fecond letter is from a lady of a mind as great as her understanding. There is perhaps fomething in the beginning of it which I ought in modefty to conceal; but I have fo much eftcem for this correfpondent, that I will not alter a tittle of what he writes, though I am thus fcrupulous at the price of being ridiculous.

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friends. You cannot go to vifit a fick friend, but fome impertinent waiter about him obferves the mufcles of your face, as strictly as if they were prognoflics of his death or recovery. If he happens to be taken from you, you are immediately furrounded with numbers of thefe fpectators, who expe& a melancholy fhrug of your fhoulders, a pathetical fhake of your head, and an expreffive diftortion of your face, to meafure your affection and value for the deceafed: but there is nothing, on thefe occafions, fo much in their favour as immoderate weeping. As all their paflions are fuperacial, they imagine the feat of love and friendfnip to be placed vifibly in the eyes: they judge what flock of kindness you had for the living, by the quantity of tears you pour out for the dead; fo that if one body wants that quantity of falt - water another abounds with, he is in great danger of being thought infenfible or ill-natured: they are ftrangers to friendship, whofe grief happens < not to be moist enough to wet fuch a parcel of handkerchiefs. But experience has told us, S nothing is fo fallacious as this outward fign · of forrow; and the natural hiftory of our bodies will teach us that this flux of the eyes; this faculty of weeping, is peculiar only to fome conftitutions. We obferve in the tender bodies of children, when croffed in their little wills and expectations, how diffolvable they are into tears; if this were what grief is in men, nature would not be able to fupport them in the excefs of it for one moment. Add to this obfervation, how quick is their tranfition from this paffion to that of their joy. I will not fay we fee often, in the next tender things to children, tears fhed without much grieving. Thus it is common to fhed tears without much forrow, and as common to fuffer much forrow without fhedding tears. Grief and weeping are indeed frequent com. panions; but, I believe, never in their higheft exceffes. As laughter does not proceed from profound joy, fo neither does weeping from profound forrow. The forrow which fo easily at the eyes, cannot have appears pierced deeply into the heart. The heart diftended with grief, ftops all the paffages for tears or lamentations.


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Your most humble fervant,



public benefit; fo I am fenfible, be that as it will, you must nevertheless find the fecret and incomparable pleasure of doing good, and be a great harer in the entertainment you give. I acknowledge our fex to be much obliged, and I hope improved by your labours, and even your intentions, more particularly for our fer'vice. If it be true, as it is fometimes faid, that our fex have an influence on the other, your paper may be a yet more general good. Your directing us to reading is certainly the 'best means to our inftruction; but I think, with you, caution in that particular very ufeful, fince the improvement of our understandings may, or may not, be of fervice to us, ac'cording as it is managed. It has been thought

Now, Sir, what I would incline you to in all this, is, that you would inform the fhallow critics and obfervers upon forrow, that true affliction labours to be invisible, that it is a ftranger to ceremony, and that it bears in its own nature a dignity muc' above the little circumftances which are affected under the notion of decency. You must know, Sir, I have lately loft a dear friend, for whom I have not yet fhed a tear, and for that reafon your animadverfions on that fubject would be the more acceptable to,

• Sir,

B. D.'

• Mr. Spectator,

June the 15th.

AS I hope there are but few that have fo little gratitude as not to acknowledge

the ufefulness of your pen, and to esteem it a

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we are not generally fo ignorant as ill-taught, or that our fex does fo often want wit, judgment, or knowledge, as the right application of them; you are fo well-bred, as to fay your 'fair readers are already deeper fcholars than the beaux, and that you could name fome of them that talk much better than feveral gen'tlemen who make a figure at Will's: this may poffibly be, and no great compliment, in my opinion, even fuppofing your comparison to reach Tom's and the Grecian: fure you are too wife to think that a real commendation of a woman. Were it not rather to be wifhed we improved in our own fphere, and approved ourfelves better daughters, wives, mothers, and


< friends?

I cannot but agree with the judicious trader in Cheapfide, though I am not at all preju'diced in his favour, in recommending the ftudy of arithmetic; and muft diffent even from the authority which you mention, when it advifes the making our fex fcholars. Indeed a little more philofophy, in order to the fubduing our paffions to our reafon, might be 'fometimes ferviceable, and a treatife of that nature I fhould approve of, even in cxchange for "Theodofius, or the Force of Love;" but as I well know you want not hints, I will proceed no further than to recommend the bishop of "Cambray's Education of a Daughter," as it is tranflated into the only language I have any knowledge of, though perhaps very much to its difadvantage. I have heard it ob'jected against that piece, that its inftructions



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are not of general ufe, but only fitted for a great lady; but I confefs I am not of that opinion; for I do not remember, that there are any rules laid down for the expences of a woman, in which particular only I think a 'gentlewoman ought to differ from a lady of the best fortune, or highest quality, and not in their principles of juftice, gratitude, fincerity, prudence, or modefty. I ought perhaps to make an apology for this long epiftle; but as I rather believe you a friend to fincerity, than ceremony, fhall only affure you I am,


• Sir,

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Your most humble fervant,



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