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and funfhine. When I beftir myself with any fpirit in my family, it is high fea in his houfe; · and when I fit ftill without doing any thing, his affairs forfooth are wind-bound. When I ask

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6 him whether it rains, he makes anfwer, it is no matter, fo that it be fair weather within doors. In fhort, Sir, I cannot speak my mind freely to C. him, but I either fwell or rage, or do fome. thing that is not fit for a civil woman to hear. Pray, Mr. Spectator, fince you are so sharp upon other women, let us know what materials your wife is made of, if you have one. I suppose you would make us a parcel of poor-fpirited tame infipid creatures: but, Sir, I would have you to know, we have as good paffions in us as yourself, and that a woman was never defigned to be a milk-fop.

L

Martha Tempest.'

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• Mr. Spectator,

I

CREECH.

Never look upon my dear wife, but I think of the happiness Sir Roger de Coverley enjoys, in having fuch a friend as you to expofe in proper colours the cruelty and perverfeness of his 'mistress. I have very often wifhed you vifited in our family, and were acquainted with my fpoufe; the would afford you for fome months at leaft, matter enough for one Spectator a week. Since we are not so happy as to be of your acquaintance, give me leave to reprefent to you our prefent circumstances as well as I can in writing. You are to know then that I ' am not of a very different conftitution from • Nathaniel Henrooft, whom you have lately re'corded in your fpeculations; and have a wife who makes a more tyrannical ufe of the knowledge of my easy temper than that lady ever ⚫ pretended to. We had not been a month married, when she found in me a certain pain to · give offence, and an indolence that made me bear little inconveniencies 'rather than difpute about them, From this obfervation it foon came to that pass, that if I offered to go abroad, fhe would get between me and the door, kifs me, and fay fhe could not part with me; and then down again I fat. In a day or two after this first pleasant step towards confining me, she declared to me, that I was all the world to her, and fhe thought he ought to be all the world to me. If, faid fhe, my dear loves me as much as I love him, he will never be tired of my company. This declaration was followed by my 'being denied to all my acquaintance; and it very foon came to that pafs, that to give an anfwer at the door before my face, the fervants would ask her whether I was within or not; and she would anfwer No with great, fondness, ⚫ and tell me I was a good dear. I will not enumerate more little circumstances to give you a livelier fenfe of my condition; but tell you in general, that from fuch steps as these at first, I now live the life of a prifoner of state; my letters are opened, and I have not the ufc of pen, ink, and paper, but in her prefence, I never go

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abroad, except fhe fometimes takes me with her in her coach to take the air, if it may be called fo, when we drive, as we generally do, 'with the glaffes up. I have over-heard my fervants lament my condition, but they dare not bring me meffages without her knowledge, because they doubt my refolution to ftand by them. In the midst of this infipid way of life, an old acquaintance of mine, Tom Meggot, 'who is a favourite with her, and allowed to vifit me in her company because he fings prettily, has roufed me to rebel, and conveyed his intelligence to me in the following manner. My wife is a great pretender to mufic, and very ignorant of it; but far gone in the Italian tafte. Tom goes to Armstrong, the famous fine wri, ter of mufic, and defires him to put this fentence of Tully in the scale of an Italian air, and write it out for my spouse from him. "ille mihi liber cui mulier imperat? Cui leges "imponit, præfcribit, jubet, vetat, quod videtur? "Qui nihil imperanti negare, nihil recufare au"det? Pofcit? dandum eft. Vocat? venien"dum. Ejicit? abeundum. Minitatur? exti"mifcendum. Does he live like a Gentleman "who is commanded by a woman? He to whom "fhe gives law, grants and denies what the "pleases? who can neither deny her any thing "the afks, or refufe to do any thing he com. "mands?"

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To be short, my wife was extremely pleased 'with it; faid, the Italian was the only Ianguage for mufic; and admired how wonderfully tender the fentiment was, and how pretty the accent is of that language, with the reft that is faid by rote on that occafion. Mr. Meggot is fent for to fing this air, which he performs with mighty applaufe; and my wife is in ec'ftacy on the occafion, and glad to find, by my being fo much pleafed, that I was at laft come into the notion of the Italian; for, faid he, it grows upon one when one once comes to know a little of the language: and pray, Mr. Meggot 'fing again thofe notes, "Nihil imperanti ne"gare, nihil recufare." You may believe I was 'not a little delighted with my friend Tom's ex'pedient to alarm me, and in obedience to his

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fummons I give all this story thus at large; and I am refolved, when this appears in the Specta'tor, to declare for myfelf. The manner of the infurrection I contrive by your means, which 'fhall be no other than that Tom Meggot, who is at our tea-table every morning, fhall read it to us; and if my dear can take the hint, and 'fay not one word, but let this be the beginning of a new life without farther explanation, it is ' very well; for as foon as the Spectator is read out, I fhall without more ado, call for the coach, name the hour when I fhall be at home, if I come at all; if I do not, they may go to dinner. If my spouse only fwells and fays nothing, Tom and I go out together, and all is 'well, as I faid before; but if she begins to com'mand or expoftulate, you shall in my next to < you, receive a full account of her refiftance and fubmiffion, for fubmit the dear thing must to, SIR,

Your most obedient humble fervant,
Anthony Freeman.

P. S. I hope I need not tell you that I defire this may be in your very next.'

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T is the great art and fecret of Chriftianity, if I may use that phrafe, to manage our actions to the beft advantage, and direct them in fuch a manner, that every thing we do may turn to account at that great day, when every thing we have done will be fet before us.

In order to give this confideration its full weight, we may caft all our actions under the divifion of fuch as are in themselves either good, evil, or indifferent. If we divide our intentions after the fame manner, and confider them with regard to our actions, we may difcover the great art and fecret of religion which I have here mentioned.

A good intention joined to a good action, give it its proper force and efficacy: joined to an evil action, extenuates its malignity, and in fome cafes may take it wholly away; and joined to an indifferent action turns it to a virtue, and makes it meritorious as far as human actions can be

fo.

In the next place, to confider in the fame manner the influence of an evil intention upon our actions. An evil intention perverts the beft of actions, and makes them in reality, what the fathers with a witty kind of zeal have termed the virtues of the heathen world, so many shining fins. It deftroys the innocence of an indifferent action, and gives an evil action all poffible blacknefs and horror, or in the emphatical language of facred writ, "makes fin exceeding finful.

If, in the laft place, we confider the nature of an indifferent intention, we shall find that it deftroys the merit of a good action; abates, but never takes away, the malignity of an evil action; and leaves an indifferent action in its natural fate of indifference.

It is therefore of unfpeakable advantage to poffefs our minds with an habitual good intention, and to aim all our thoughts, words and actions at fome laudable end, whether it be the glory of our Maker, the good of mankind, or the benefit of our own fouls.

This is a fort of thrift or good husbandry in moral life, which does not throw away any fingle action, but makes every one go as far as it can. It multiplies the means of falvation, increafes the number of our virtues, and dimi nishes that of our vices.

There is fomething very devout, though not felid, in Acofta's anfwer to Limborch, who objects to him the multiplicity of ceremonies in the Jewish religion, as wafhings, dreffes, meats,. purgations, and the like. The reply which the Jew makes upon this occafion, is, to the belt of my remembrance, as follows: There are not duties enough (fays he) in the effential parts of the law for a zealous and a&ive obedience. Time, place, and perfon are requifite, before < you have an opportunity of putting a moral virtue into practice. We have therefore, fays he, enlarged the fphere of our duty, and made many things which are in themfelves indifferent, a part of our religion, that we may have more occasions of fhowing our love to God, and in all the circumftances of life be doing fomething to please him '

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Monfieur St. Evremond has endeavoured to palliate the fuperfti ions of the Roman-catholic religion with the fame kind of apology, where he pretends to confider the different spirit of the Papifts and the Calvinifts, as to the great points wherein they difagree. He tells us, that the former are actuated by love, and the other by fear; and that in their expreffions of duty and devotion towards the Supreme Being, the former feem particularly careful to do every thing which may poffibly please him, and the other to abftain from every thing which may poffibly displease him.

But notwithstanding this plaufible reason with which both the Jew and the Roman-catholic would excufe their respective fuperftitions, it is certain there is fomething in them very pernicious to mankind, and deftru&tive to religion; because the injunction of fuperfluous ceremonies makes fuch actions duties, as were before indifferent, and by that means renders religion more burthenfome and difficult than it is in its own rature, betrays many into fins of omission which they could not otherwife be guilty of, and fixes the minds of the vulgar to the fhadowy uneffential points, instead of the more weighty and more important matters of the law.

This zealous and active obedience however takes place in the great point we are recommending; for if, instead of prefcribing to ourselves indifferent actions as duties; we apply a good intention to all our most indifferent actions, we make our very exiftence one continued act of obedience, we turn our diverfions and amufements to our eternal advantage, and are pleafing him, whom we are made to pleafe, in all the cir cumftances and occurrences of life.

It is this excellent frame of mind, this holy officioufnefs, if I may be allowed to call it fuch, which is recommended to us by the Apoftle in that uncommon precept, wherein he directs us to propofe to ourselves the glory of our Creator in all our moft indifferent actions, whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do.'

A perfon therefore who is poffeffed with such an habitual good intention, as that which I have been here fpeaking of, enters upon no fingle circumftance of life, without confidering it as wellpleafing to the great author of his being, conformable to the dictates of reafon, fuitable to human nature in general, or to that particular ftation in which Providence has placed him. He lives in a perpetual fenfe of the Divine Prefence, regards himself as acting, in the whole courfe of his exiftence, under the obfervation and inspection of that Being, who is privy to all his motions, and all his thoughts, who knows his "down-fitting and his up-rifing, who is about "his path, and about his bed, and fpieth out "all his ways." In a word, he remembers that the eye of his judge is always upon him, and in every action he reflects that he is doing what is commanded or allowed by him who will hereafter either reward or punish it. This was the character of thofe holy men of old, who in that beautiful phrafe of Scripture are faid to have "walked with God."

When I employ myfelf upon a paper of morality, I generally confider how I may recommend the particular virtue whicli I treat of, by the precepts or examples of the ancient heathens; by that means, if poffible, to shame thofe who have greater advantages of knowing

their duty, and therefore greater obligations to perform it, into a better courfe of life: befides that many among us are unreasonably disposed to give a fairer hearing to a pagan philofopher, than to a christian writer.

I fhall therefore produce an inftance of this excellent frame of mind in a speech of Socrates, which is quoted by Erafmus. This great philo. fopher on the day of his execution, a little before the draught of poifon was brought to him, entertaining his friends with a discourse on the immortality of the foul, has these words: "Whe"ther or no God will approve of my actions, I "know not; but this I am fure of, that I have "at all times made it my endeavour to please him, and I have a good hope that this my "endeavour will be accepted by him." We find in these words of that great man the habitual good intention which I would here inculcate, and with which that divine philofopher always acted. I hall only add, that Erafmus, who was an unbigotted Roman-catholic, was fo much tranfported with this paffage of Socrates, that he could fcarce forbear looking upon him as a faint, and defiring him to pray for him; or as that ingenious and learned writer has expreffed himself in a much more lively man.... ner: "When I reflect on fuch a fpeech pro"nounced by fuch a person, I can scarce forbear "crying out, fancte Socrates, ora pro nobis: O "holy Socrates, pray for us.'

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N° 214. MONDAY, NOVEMBER 5.

-Perierunt tempora longi
Servitii-
Juv. Sat. 3. ver 124.
A long dependence in an hour is loft,

DRYDEN.

Did fome time ago lay before the world the

warding his merit towards him, is as unjust in his dealings as he who takes up goods of a tradefman without intention or ability to pay him. Of the few of the clafs which I think fit to confider, there are not two in ten who fucceed, infomuch that I know a man of good sense who put his fon to a blacksmith, though an offer was made him of his being received as a page to a man of quality. There are not more cripples come out of the wars than there are from thofe great fervices; fome through difcontent lofe their fpeech, fome their memories, others their fenfes or their lives; and I feldom fee a man thoroughly difcontented,, but I conclude he has had the favour of some great man.

I have known of fuch as have been for twenty years together within a month of a good employment, but never arrived at the happinefs of being poffeffed of any thing.

There is nothing more ordinary, than that a man who is got into a confiderable ftation, fhall immediately alter his manner of treating all his friends, and from that moment he is to deal with you as if he were your fate. You are no longer to be confulted, even in matters which concern yourself; but your patron is of a species above you, and a free communication with you is not to be expected. This perhaps may be your condition all the while he bears office, and when that is at an end, you are as intimate as ever you were, and he will take it very ill if you keep the diftance he prefcribed you towards him in his grandeur. One would think this fhould be a behaviour a man could fall into with the work grace imaginable; but they who know the world have feen it more than once. I have often, with fecret pity, heard the fame man who has profeffed his abhorrence againft all kind of paffive behaviour, lofe minutes, hours, days, and years in a fruit-. lefs attendance on one who had no inclination to befriend him. It is very much to be regretted, that the great have one particular privilege above the rest of the world, of being flow in receiving

I unhappy condition of the trading part of man- impreftions of kindness, and quick in taking of

kind, who fuffer by want of punctuality in the dealings of persons above them; but their is a fet of men who are much more the objects of compaffion than even thofe, and thefe are the dependents on great men, whom they are pleased to take under their protection as fuch as are to share in their friendship and favour. Thefe indeed, as well from the homage that is accepted from them, as the hopes which are given to them, are become a fort of creditors; and thefe debts, being debts of honour, ought, according to the accustomed maxim, to be first discharged.

When I speak of dependents, I would not be understood to mean thofe who are worthlefs in themselves, or who, without any call, will prefs into the company of their betters. Nor, when I fpeak of patrons, do I mean thofe who either have it not in their power, or have no obligation to affift their friends; but I fpeak of fuch leagues where there is power and obligation on the one part, and merit and expectation on the other.

The divifion of patron and client, may, I believe, include a third of our nation; the want of merit and real worth in the client, will ftrike out about ninety-nine in an hundred of thefe; and the want of ability in patrons, as many of that kind. But however, I must beg leave to fay, that he who will take up another's time and fortune in his fervice, though he has no profpect of re

fence. The elevation above the rest of mankind, except in very great minds, makes men fo giddy, that they do not fee after the fame manner they did before: thus they defpife their old friends, and ftrive to extend their interefts to new pretenders. By this means it often happens that when you come to know how you lost such an employment, you will find the man who got it never dreamed of it; but forfooth, he was to be furprifed into it, or perhaps folicited to receive it. Upon fuch occafions as thefe a man may perhaps grow out of humour; if you are fo, all mankind will fall in with the patron, and you are an humourift and untractable if you are capable of being four at a difappointment: but it is the fame thing, whether you do or do not refent ill usage, you will be ufed after the fame manner; as fome good mothers will be fure to whip their children until they cry, and then whip them for crying.

There are but two ways of doing any thing with great people, and those are by making yourfelf either confiderable or agreeable: the former is not to be attained but by finding a way to live without them, or concealing that you want them; the latter is only by falling into their tafte and pleafures: this is of all the employments in the world the moft fervile, except it happens to be of your own natural humour. For to be agreeable to another, especially if he be above you, is not to be poffeffed of fuch qualities and accom

plishments

plishments as fhould render you agreeable in yourfelf, but fuch as make you agreeable in refpect to him. An imitation of his faults or a compliance, if not fubfervience, to his vices, must be the measures of your conduct.

When it comes to that, the unnatural state a man lives in, when his patron pleases, is ended; and his guilt and complaifance are objected to him, though the man who rejects him for his vices was not only his partner but feducer. Thus the client, like a young woman who has given up the innocence which made her charming, has not only loft his time, but alfo the virtue which could render him capable of refenting the injury which

is done him.

It would be endless to recount the tricks of turning you off from themselves to perfons who have lefs power to ferve you, the art of being forry for fuch an unaccountable accident in your behavicur, that fuch a one, who, perhaps, has never heard of you, oppofes your advancement; and if you have any thing more than ordinary in you, you are flattered with a whifper, that it is no wonder people are fo flow in doing for a man of your talents and the like,

After all this treatment, I muft ftill add the pleasantest infolence of all, which I have once or awice feen; to wit, that when a filly rogue has thrown away one part in three of his life in unprofitable attendance, it is taken wonderfully ill that he withdraws, and is refolved to employ the reft for himself.

When we confider these things, and reflect upon fo many honeft natures, which one, who makes obfervation of what paffes, may have seen, that have mifcarried by fuch fort of applications, it is too melancholy a scene to dwell upon; therefore I fhall take another opportunity to difcourfe of good patrons, and diftinguifh fuch as have done their duty to thofe who have depended upon them, and were not able to act without their favour. Worthy patrons are like Plato's guardian angels, who are always doing good to their wards; but negligent patrons are like Epicurus's gods, that lie lolling on the clouds, and inftead of bleff ings pour down ftorms and tempefts on the heads of those that are offering incense to them.

T

No 215. TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6.
-Ingenuas didiciffe fideliter artes
Emolit mores, nec finit effe feros.
Ovid. Ep. 9.
1. 2. de Ponto, v, 47.
Ingenuous arts, where they an entrance find,
Soften the manners, and fubdue the mind.

I

Confider an human foul without education like marble in the quarry, which fhews none of its inherent beauties, until the fkill of the polifher fetches out the colours, makes the furface fhine, and difcovers every ornamental cloud, fpot, and vein that runs through the body of it. Education, after the fame manner, when it works upon a noble mind, draws out to view every latent virtue and perfection, which without fuch helps are never able to make their appearance.

If my reader will give me leave to change the allufion fo foon upon him, I fhall make ufe of the fame inftance to illuftiate the force of education, which Ariftotle has brought to explain his doctrine of fubftantial forms, when he tells us that a ftatue lies hid in a block of marble; and that

the art of the ftatuary only clears away the fu-* perfluous matter, and removes the rubbish. The figure is in the ftone, the fculptor only finds it. What fculpture is to a block of marble, education is to an human foul. The philofopher, the faint, or the hero, the wife, the good, or the great man, very often lie hid and concealed in a ple-.. beian, which a proper education might have difinterred, and have brought to light. I am therefore much delighted with reading the accounts of favage nations, and with contemplating thofe virtues which are wild and uncultivated; to fee courage exerting itself in fiercenefs, refolution in obftinacy, wisdom in cunning, patience in ful-' lennefs and despair.

Men's paffions operate variously, and appear in different kinds of actions, according as they are more or lefs rectified and fwayed by reason. When one hears of negroes, who upon the death of their mafters, or upon changing their fervice, hang themfelves upon the next tree, as it frequently happens in our American plantations, who can forbear admiring their fidelity, though it expreffes itself in fo dreadful a manner? What might not that favage greatnefs of foul which appears in these poor wretches on many occafions, be raised to, were it rightly cultivated? And what colour of excufe can there be for the contempt with which we treat this part of our fpecies? That we should not put them upon the common foot of humanity, that we fhould only fet an infignificant fine upon the man who murders them; nay, that we fhould, as much as in us lies, cut them off from the profpects of happiness in another world as well as in this, and deny them that which we look upon as the proper means for attaining it?

Since I am engaged on this fubject, I cannot forbear mentioning a story which I have lately heard, and which is fo well attested, that I have no manner of reason to fufpect the truth of it. I may call it a kind of wild tragedy that paffed about twelve years ago at St. Chriftopher's, one of our British leeward islands. The negroes who were the perfons concerned in it, were all of them the flaves of a gentleman who is now in England.

This gentleman among his negroes had a young woman, who was looked upon as a moft extraordinary beauty by thofe of her own complexion. He had at the fame time two young fellows who were likewise negroes, and flaves, remarkable for the comeliness of their perfons, and for the friendfhip which they bore to one another. It unfortunately happened that both of them fell in love with the female negroe above-mentioned, who would have been very glad to have taken either of them for her hufband, provided they could agree between themfelves which fhould be the man. But they were both fo paffionately in love with her, that neither of them could think of giving her up to his rival; and at the fame time were fo true to one another, that neither of them would think of gaining her without his friend's confent. The torments of thefe two lovers were the difcourfe of the family to which they belonged, who could not forbear obferving the ftrange complication of paffions which perplexed the hearts of the poor negroes, that often dropped expreffions of the uneafinefs they underwent, and how impoffible it was for either of them ever to be happy.

After a long ftruggle between love and friendfhip, truth and jealoufy, they one day took a

walk together into a wood, carrying their mistrefs along with them: where, after abundance of lamentations, they stabbed her to the heart, of which the immediately died. A flave who was at his work not far from the place where this

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aftonishing piece of cruelty was committed, hearing the fhrieks of the dying perfon, ran to fee what was the occafion of them. He there difcovered the woman lying dead upon the ground, with the two negroes on each fide of her, kiffing the dead corps, weeping over it, and beating their breasts in the utmoft agonies of grief and defpair. He immediately ran to the English family with the news of what he had feen; who upon coming to the place faw the woman dead, and the two negroes expiring by her with wounds they had given themselves.

We fee in this amazing inftance of barbarity, what ftrange diforders are bred in the minds of thofe men whofe paffions are not regulated by virtue, and difciplined by reafon. Though the action which I have recited is in itfelf full of guilt and horror, it proceeded from a temper of mind which might have produced very noble fruits, had it been informed and guided by a fuitable education.

It is therefore an unfpeakable blefling to be born in those parts of the world where wisdom and knowledge flourish; though it must he confeffed, there are, even in these parts, feveral poor uninstructed perfons, who are but little above the inhabitants of thofe nations of which I have been here fpeaking; as those who have had the advantage of a more liberal education, rife above one another by feveral different degrees of perfection. For to return to our ftatue in the block of marble, we fee it fometimes only begun to be chipped, fometimes rough-hewn, and but juft fketched into an human figure; fometimes we fee the man appearing diftin&tly in all his limbs and features, fometimes we find the figure wrought up to a great elegancy, but feldom meet with any to which the hand of a Phidias or Praxiteles could not give several nice touches and finishings.

Difcourfes of morality, and reflexions upon human nature, are the best means we can make ufe of to improve our minds, and gain a true knowledge of ourselves, and confequently to recover fouls out of the vice, ignorance, and prejudice, which naturally cleave to them. I have all along profest myself in this paper a promoter of these great ends; and I flatter myself that I do from day to day contribute fomething to the polishing of men's minds: at leaft my design is laudable, whatever the execution may be. I must confefs I am not a little encouraged in it by many letters which I receive from unknown hands, in approbation of my endeavours; and must take this opportunity of returning my thanks to thofe who write them, and excufing myself for not inferting several of them in my papers, which I am fenfible would be a very great ornament to them. Should I publish the praises which are fo well penned, they would do honour to the perfons who write them, but my publishing of them would I fear be a fufficient inftance to the world that I did not deferve them,

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Mr, Spectator,

TH

'Your's,

A. NOEWILL.'

HE uproar was fo great as foon as I had read the Spectator concerning Mrs. Freeman, that after many revolutions in her temper, of raging, fwooning, railing, fainting, pitying herself, and reviling her husband, upon an accidental coming-in of a neighbouring lad,, 'who fays the has writ to you also, she had nothing left for it but to fall in a fit. I had the 'honour to read the paper to her, and have a pretty good command of my countenance and

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temper on fuch occafions; and foon found my 'hiftorical name to be Tom Meggot in your 'writings, but concealed myself until I faw how it affected Mrs. Freeman. She looked frequently at her husband, as often at me; and he did not tremble as fhe filled tea, until the came to the circumstance of Armstrong's writing out a piece of Tully for an opera tune; then the burft out, She was expofed, fhe was deceived, she was wronged and abused. The tea-cup was thrown in the fire; and without 'taking vengeance on her spouse, she said of me, that I was a pretending coxcomb, a medler that knew not what it was to interpofe in fo nice an affair as between a man and his wife. Το which Mr. Freeman, Madam, were I lefs fond of you than I am, I should not have taken this way of writing to the Spectator, to inform a woman whom God and nature has placed under my direction, with what I requeft of her; but 'fince you are fo indifcreet as not to take the hint which I gave you in that paper, I must 'tell you, madam, in so many words, that you have for a long and tedious space of time acted a part unfuitable to the fenfe you ought to have of the fubordination in which you are placed. And I must acquaint you once for all that the fellow without, ah Tom! (here the ⚫ footman entered and answered, madam) firrah,

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