Caft your eyes upon paper, Madam, there you may look innocently: men are feducing, books are dangerous, the amorous ones foften you, and the godly ones give you the fpleen: if you look upon trees, they clafp in embraces; birds and beasts make love: the fun is too warm for your blood; the moon melts you into yielding and melancholy. Therefore I fay once more, cast your eyes upon paper, and read only fuch letters as I write, which convey no darts, no flames, but proceed from innocence of foul, and fimplicity of heart. Thank God, I am an hundred miles off from thofe eyes! I would fooner truft your hand than them for doing me mischief; and though I doubt not some part of the rancour and iniquity of your heart will drop into your pen, yet fince it will not attack me on a fudden and unprepared, fince I may have time while I break open your letter to cross myself and fay a Pater-nofter, I hope Providence will protect me from all you can attempt at this distance. I am told you are at this hour as handfome as an angel; for my part, I have forgot your face fince two winters. You may be grown to a giantess for all I know. I can't tell in any respect what fort of creature you are, only that you are a very mifchievous one, whom I shall ever pray to be defended from. But when your Minifter fends me word you have the fmall-pox, a good many freckles, or are very pale, I will defire him to give thanks for it in your parish church; which as foon as he fhall inform me he has done, I will make you a vifit without armour: I will

eat

you

eat any thing you give me without fufpicion of poifon, take you by the hand without gloves, nay venture to follow into an arbour without calling the company. This, Madam, is the top of my wishes, but how dif ferently are our defires inclined! You figh out, in the ardour of your heart, Oh play-houses, parks, operas, affemblies, London! I I cry with rapture, Oh woods, gardens, rookeries, fish-ponds, arbours! Mrs. M

LETTER III.

TO A LADY.

[Written on one column of a letter, while Lady M. wrote to the Lady's Husband on the other.]

THE

HE wits would fay, that this must needs be a dull letter because it is a married one. I am afraid indeed you will find, what spirit there is, must be on the fide of the wife, and the husband's part, as usual, will prove the dulleft. What an unequal pair are put together in this sheet? in which, though we fin, it is you must do penance. When you look on both sides of this paper, you may fancy that our words (according to a Scripture expreffion) are as a two-edged fword, whereof Lady M. is the fhining blade, and I only the handle. But I can't proceed without fo far mortifying Sir Robert as to tell him, that she writes

VOL. VII.

M

this

this purely in obedience to me, and that it is but one of thofe honours a husband receives for the fake of his wife.

It is making court but ill to one fine woman to fhew her the regard we have for another ; and yet I must own there is not a period of this epiftle but squints towards another over against it. It will be in vain to diffemble: your penetrating eyes cannot but discover, how all the letters that compose these words lean forward after Lady M.'s letters, which feem to bend as much from mine, and fly from them as fast as they are able. Ungrateful letters that they are! which give themselves to another man, in the very presence of him who will yield to no mortal, in knowing how

to value them.

You will think I forgot myself, and am not writing to you; but, let me tell you, 'tis you forget yourself in that thought, for you are almoft the only woman to whom one can fafely addrefs the praises of another. Befides, can you imagine a man of my importance fo ftupid, as to fay fine things to you before your hufband? Let us fee how far Lady M. herself dares do any thing like it, with all the wit and address she is miftrefs of. If Sir Robert can be fo ignorant (now he is left to himfelf in the country) to imagine any fuch matter, let him know from me, that here in town every thing that lady fays, is taken for fatire. For my part, every body knows it is my conftant practice to speak truth, and I never do it more than when I call myself Your, &c.

LETTER IV.

ou have put me into fo much gaiety of temper,

γου

that there will not be a ferious word in this day's letter. No more, you will fay, there would, if I told you the whole serious bufinefs of the town. All last night I continued with you, though your unreafonable regularity drove me out of your doors at three o'clock. I dreamed all over the evening's converfation, and faw the little bed in spite of you. In the morning I waked, very angry at your phantom for leaving me fo abruptly. I know you delight in my mortification. I dined with an old Beauty; fhe appeared at the table like a Death's head enamelled. The Egyp-· tians, you know, had fuch things at their entertainments; but do you think they painted and patched them? However, the last of these objections was foon removed; for the lady had fo violent an appetite for a falmon, that fhe quickly eat all the patches off her face. She divided the fish into three parts; not equal, God knows; for fhe helped Gay to the head, me to the middle, and making the reft much the largest part, took it herself, and cried very naively, I'll be content with my own tail.

My fupper was as fingular as my dinner. It was with a great Poet✶ and Ode-maker (that is, a great

poet

* It is faid he meant Dr. Young; and that he laughed at his frequent abfence of mind: to which, but not with affectation, he was fubject.

poet out of his wits, or out of his way). He came to me very hungry; not for want of a dinner (for that I fhould make no jeft of) but having forgot to dine. He fell most furiously on the broiled relics of a shoulder of mutton, commonly called a blade-bone: he profeffed he never tafted fo exquisite a thing! begged me to tell him what joint it was; wondered he had never heard the name of this joint, or seen it at other tables; and defired to know how he might direct his butcher to cut out the fame for the future. And yet this man, fo ignorant in modern butchery, has cut up half an hundred heroes, and quartered five or fix miferable lovers in every tragedy he has written. I have nothing more to tell you to-day.

γου

LETTER V.

THE ANSWER.

ou should have my day too, Sir, but indeed I flept it out, and fo I'll give you all that was left, my last Night's entertainment. You know the company. I went in late, in order to be better received; but unluckily came in, as Deuce-ace was flinging (Lord H. would fay I came in the Nick). The lady coloured, and the men took the name of the Lord in vain: nobody spoke to me, and I fat down difappointed; then affecting a careless air, gaped, and cried feven or eight times, D'ye win or lofe? I

could