WILLIAM EASY, Esq to CHARLES MELMOTH, Esq.
TempleFebruary,Just returned from Bath.
ONCE more, my Dear Friend, I am seated in my Chambers •t the Temple; surrounded as usual, with a ridiculous Confusion of Litter and Literature; my Chairs and Tables covered with Pamphlets and Powder, and Dust and Law-books,

and in short every Thing exactly as I left it six Weeks ago. Well, thought I, as I cast my Eye round my Apartments, a Temple Laundress is nothing but a new Edition of an University Bedmaker! However, there is some Satisfaction and Advantage in being able to leave one's Papers in what Corner of the Room one pleases, without running the Risque of their being turned over and methodized with a Broom or a Duster.
In the mean Time my Servant had shut up the Windows, lighted the Fire and two half Candles that remained in the Sconces, and retired; and I, throwing myself upon my Sopha, tried I believe for near an hour to persuade myself that I had never been from Home. But

finding Reality too strong for Imagination, I began seriously to ruminate upon what had passed during the Interval. My last Letter I think was written just before I set out on my Expedition to that Centre of Gaiety, Bath; and I have not heard from you these two Months. Since then, what Changes and Vicissitudes have I experienced! In short, that Day which like Death, must sooner or later come upon all Men, has overtaken me. I am desperately in Love! Not so bad indeed as to prevent or suspend the common Animal Operations of Eating Drinking and Sleeping, nor yet so bad as to make me prefer a hard flinty Pavement to a good Featherbed. No—"My Wound," (for you know People in Love are

always supposed to be wounded)
is not so deep as a Well, nor so wide as a Church Door, but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: Ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a Grave Man.
And now for the Manner in which I received it. I had hardly been at Bath three Days, when, as I was dropping into the Pump-room according to my Morning custom, I saw a tall elegant Girl about eighteen or twenty, supporting a miserable old Lump of Chalkstones, who was drinking the Waters. I will not attempt a Description of her, as every Man is apt to deal in Hyperbole on these Occasions, and talk of Orange-flower Breath, and Pearls and Rubies, (as if he was thinking of the Trinkets that must

be bought if he married her,) till he turns his Mistress into a Greenhouse or a Jeweller's Shop with his Compliments. However, if you are very desirous of seeing her Picture drawn, you may find one ready cut and dried and fit for use in most Novels. In short, she was
Fairer far than Painters form
Or youthful Poets fancy when they love.
that is, she pleased me, and entirely came up to my Idea of Female Perfection. As soon as the old Fellow was drenched sufficiently, and had taken himself out of the Pump-room, I enquired his Home, &c. of the Naiad that attends there; and in the Course of five Minute's Conversation, was informed that he was a Mr. Hartley, that he had been at Bath about a Fortnight,

that the young Lady was his Daughter and only Child, that she was said to have a very large Fortune, and finally, was to be at the Ball next Evening. A lucky Gleam of Recollection at this Instant reminded me that I had often heard my Father talk of him, and that, when a Child, I had seen him at our House. Upon the Strength of this paternal Acquaintance, I determined to introduce myself, and accordingly made my Appearance at his Door the next Morning about Breakfast Time. I found the old Gentleman in his Night-cap and Slippers, pothering over the Newspaper, and his Charmante fille on the opposite Side of the Table, pouring out the Tea. Having seated myself by him, both that I

might have a more advantageous View of my Goddess, and that I might appear to pay him the greater Respect, I began to explain who I was; and having mentioned some Circumstances which I luckily remembered to have heard from my Father concerning their Acquaintance together, the old Gentleman whipped off his Spectacles in an Instant, and laying down his Paper, first shook me heartily by the Hand, and immediately afterwards resuming the former Part of his Apparatus, stared me full in the Face for near a Minute to discover whether there was any Family Likeness. He was fortunate enough to perceive a very strong one, which was more than ever I have been able to do in my Life, However,

it served to increase his Civility to me, and we soon became very intimate. His Wife it seems has been dead several Years, and he calls his own Age between Sixty and Seventy, tho' the frequent Gouty Attacks he has undergone, make him look older. He talked over a vast Heap of Family Matters, and seemed to consider me as an Acquaintance of twenty Years standing. Thanks to my Father for it! In the mean Time his Daughter was not idle. I burnt my Mouth horribly with a scalding Dish of Tea she presented me, from paying greater Attention to the Giver than the Gift. She frequently joined in our Discourse, and was full of Life and Vivacity. You may suppose I exerted myself, and as a

Reward for my Labour, was happy enough before I left the House, to obtain her own and her Father's Permission to dance with her that Evening. Adieu, my Servant has just brought in Supper, which obliges me to defer the Sequel of my Adventures till another Post.

Yours, sincerely, W. Easy.

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Temple,February,
Dear Charles,
MY last I think concluded with a Promise of some farther Account of my amatorial Proceedings. I now sit down to fulfil that Promise, and at the same Time to ask your Advice in regard to my future Measures. Really, I am very much in love with this Girl. The more I think of her, the more I admire her good Sense and Vivacity; and though in Case of a Refusal, I should neither shoot nor

drown, yet if I ever am to marry, most fervently do I pray that she may be the Person. Books now are become quite a Bore to me.— And not merely Legal ones, which you know I never received much Entertainment from, but History, Geography, and even my Favourites the Poets, seem insipid and fatiguing, unless they treat of Love. To return to my History. According to Appointment, I was made happy with Miss Hartley's Hand at the Ball, and before she quitted Bath, became perfectly intimate with her Father, and I flatter myself, not utterly disagreeable to herself. He is really a very honest good sort of Being, but like every body else has his Foible,

which however is an innocent one, and in some Degree hereditary. His Father was a Man, who to good natural Parts, had added a considerable Fund of acquired Knowledge: He, seeing with the Eyes of a Parent, unluckily supposes this Son possessed of the same Degree of the one, and consequently determines he shall not be deficient in the other. With this View he is sent to the University, and both his Terms and Vacations employed in all the Perplexities of Science either with his Tutor, or at Home. By and by, the old Man dies; and the Son, having always been taught to suppose himself clever, takes his Father's Word for the Truth of it, and

invitâ Minervâ, continues to this Day wandering in the self same Labyrinths, and paying the most obsequious Respect to every Man he hears spoken of for Literary Eminence. You may be assured I humoured this ridiculous Passion, and routed out all my Stock of University Learning upon the Occasion. Upon my Honour, when I had rubbed it up a little, I was surprised to find how it shone, like a Piece of old Family Plate; tho' the more refined and subtle Parts of it were in some Degree evaporated. Miss Hartley, if I may credit the Language of the Eyes, which I consider as ocular Demonstration, has declared she does not absolutely hate me, and has half

promised to take the first Opportunity of Writing. I wish I knew how to believe her! They are now at a Relation's near Reading, on a Visit, but will soon be in Town, when I shall not omit the Renewal of my Acquaintance.
Adieu, W. Easy.

Miss HARTLEY to Miss RUGG.
Staples, near Reading.March,
My Dear Girl,
HOW many thousand fine Speeches and Apologies have I to make for your Goodness in writing so often whilst I was at Bath, and my own Neglect in never once answering you. Really my Dear, if you are unmerciful in your Demands upon me, I must take out a Statute of Bankruptcy at once, and oblige you to be satisfied with so much in the Pound. Besides, I have very good Reasons for my long Silence. An incessant

Round of Dressing and Undressing, Plays, Balls, and Diversions of one Sort or other, hardly left me a Moment to myself; and when this was the Case, I dare say you would not have wished me to stupify myself with Scribbling.
Heigh ho! Do you know any Gentleman by the Name of Easy? I danced with him one Night at the Rooms. He introduced himself to my Father under pretence of an old Family Connection, and we hardly ever stirred without him afterwards. An old Family Connection! Do you think my Vanity would suffer me to believe that, my Dear? Is it likely that a handsome young Fellow of six or seven and Twenty, should hunt out a Man old enough to be his Grandfather,

for the Sake of a Family Connection? No, no; if there is any Truth in that Part of the Story, I fancy he thinks the Traces of it are so nearly worn out, that it is Time to strengthen them with a new one. Let me hear your pretty serious Sentiments upon this, and quickly too, if you mean to write at all; for in a Fortnight I hope to be in London, and then—who knows what may happen to,
Yours, most affectionately, Catharine Hartley.

I had almost forgot to tell you that we are now at Staples, with that wretched Antique Sir Anthony Artichoke, a second Cousin of my Uncle's Wife's Brother-in-law, whom my Father chooses to call a Relation, because he puzzles him in the dead Languages whenever they meet.

CHARLES MELMOTH to WILLIAM EASY.
Melmoth Place, Norfolk,March,
AND so my very good Friend and Companion, William Easy, Esquire, is at last professedly in Love; and willing to exchange the Indolence of a Law Student for the laborious Operations of regulating a Family, and chewing Pap for his Children. Really I think he is very much in the Right. For my own Part, though I have now been married above a Twelve-month, which according to the present Way of Thinking, is a little Eternity, and have been in

the Country almost ever since; I do not yet find my Wife's Company at all Ennuyeuse or fatiguing, nor have I once wished for a Repetition of the Gallantries I was engaged in during my Travels. I think I may now venture to entrust you with thus much of my Mind, without fear of being laughed at as an uxorious Rustic, which I know would have been the Case half a Year ago. The Amusements of the Field, the Company of my Friends, some of whom have been in the House ever since you left us; and now and then that miserable Dernier ressort to all People of Ton, one's own Wife; have really been to me a very sufficient Source of Happiness and Satisfaction. Besides, I have been engaged with a continued

Series of Alterations both in House and Grounds, under the Auspices of those two great Luminaries, Wyatt and Brown. Upon my Honour that same Wyatt is a Fellow of very superior Talents. There is something so majestically Simple in his Ideas, so contrary to the minute Frippery of the Generality, that I am really in Raptures with him. The Metamorphoses he has made in my House are the Effect of Magic. He has digested and methodized that rude Chaos of Anti-chambers, and Closets, and "Passages that lead to nothing," which our ridiculous Ancestors were so fond of, and for which you may remember my Habitation was particularly eminent. There is now a very excellent Suite of Apartments

in Embrio; and the haunted Parlour with marble-coloured Wainscot will make an incomparable Drawing-Room. And all this since you was down with me last Summer. By the Bye, I desire that from this Time forth for evermore, you direct your Letters to Charles Melmoth, Esq Melmoth-Place; as I, being determined the Name of my Seat shall not survive the Barbarism that authorized it, have, without Act of Parliament, and relying upon my own Authority as Justice of the Peace, issued Orders to all Constables, Headboroughs, &c. in the County of Norfolk, to wit, that they do by all legal Methods suppress and destroy the original Appellation of Holly-hock Hall, and

in its stead substitute Melmoth-Place aforesaid.
But perhaps you begin to think this very little to the Purpose of your Amour; and as every body is most fond of talking and writing about their own Affairs, I must confess I had almost forgot myself. However, I wish you may succeed with all my Heart, and in regard to Advice or Consultation, will defer it for about a Fortnight, when I design visiting London for a few Weeks, and entering for the Time being into all the Vanity of Metropolitan Diversions. So Farewell.
Yours ever, Charles Melmoth.

Miss HARTLEY to Miss RUGG.
Hill-street, Berkeley-square,April.
HOW very unlucky and perverse our Motions are! One would think the cross-grained Fellow your Uncle contrived it on purpose. Thursday Evening I once more set Foot in London, having escaped from a miserable State of Bond-Slavery at Staples, where we had dragged on near six Weeks of passive Existence without seeing a Soul but that old Apple-woman Sir Anthony, who is as disagreeable as the Place he lives in; and two or three Country Neighbours, who are still worse. I thought my Father would never have quitted the

dull Place! We really seem, my Dear, for these last two Years to have been running away from each other. Always like Buckets, one up and the other down. And now, poor Soul, you are stationed at Woodstock, are you? (for I called on you Friday Morning, and finding you flown, enquired all Particulars of the Servant,) and enjoy the agreeable Society of your maiden Aunts and your Rookery, do you? or if you wish for Solitude, you are at full Liberty to sit under a Tree in the Garden by the Hour together, thinking of Rosamond and her Bower, and the Nunnery at Godstow. What a Taste your Uncle has! I was at Romeo and Juliet last Night, and who does your great Penetration imagine I saw

there? No less a Person than Mr. Easy I can assure you. He seemed somewhat surprised, for he did not know I was in London. Entre nous, I had promised to write to him from Staples, but was cruel enough, or as you would say, sufficiently prudent to disappoint him; so that our Meeting was entirely unexpected on his Part. He was in an Undress, and looked killingly Negligent, I can assure you. There was another Gentleman with him, whom he left and came up to us immediately. My Father was quite rejoiced to see him, and for myself, filial Duty you know obliged me to experience a similar Sensation. He talked a good Deal, and looked much more. Undoubtedly he is a very agreeable Man, and there is

such an ingenuous Naiveté in his Behaviour, that I am sure he must be an honest one. He humoured my Father in his literary Quixotism; and drew Comparisons between Shakespeare and the Ancients, 'till he got himself invited to dine to-morrow with us. (Nota Bene. His Eyes upbraided me horridly for not writing.) What a happy Thing it is, that one Pair of young Eyes are quicker than two of old ones. As for my Father, he never sees at all without his Spectacles, and they are seldom made use of for the Contemplation of living Objects. So farewell, my Dear, write soon to one who will always consider herself,
Your most affectionate Friend, Catharine Hartley.

P. S. Do you know any thing of your Brother Sir Thoroughbred, or when he returns to England? I hope we shall find him a little more humanized, and beginning to prefer the Society of his Fellow Creatures to that of his Horses.

Miss RUGG to Miss HARTLEY.
Woodstock,April.
AS you know where I am my Dear Hartley, you will not be unreasonable enough to expect News from me. Indeed if I thought you did, I would not attempt writing. As you very truly suppose, I see little Company beside Rooks and maiden Aunts, and for Conversation, I have none but what my Books afford me, from which, however, though you may laugh, I receive great Entertainment, and I hope some Instruction. But come, I'll not fatigue you with Matters of this Sort; and yet I have nothing

else to say for myself, unless you choose a Panegyric upon the Charming Mr. Easy. By the Bye, he is an intimate Acquaintance of my Brother's. I have seen him often, and could almost find in my Heart to pull Caps for him, if I was ever disposed to be so furious.
The Post is just come in, with a Letter for me. Perhaps it may assist my Dearth of News, so excuse my reading it. And now it is read, take it as a Substitute for any farther Nonsense of my own. And it is from a young Man too, though that will now I suppose be no particular Recommendation. However, as you ask after him in your Postcript, I will send it. It is from my Brother, who is at the Hague, and talks of

returning to England very speedily. He writes in his usual metaphorical Stile, and seems as fond of Rough-riding as ever. But I shall leave you to judge for yourself, and conclude,
My Dear Kitty,
Yours, most sincerely, Maria Rugg.

The Inclosed Letter from Sir THOBRED RUGG to his Sister.
Hague,April.
YOU and I, Sister, are certainly as different Animals as ever boasted the Privilege of Christianity, and yet I believe we love one another. Whether I long to see you or old England again, I do not know, but I certainly am thoroughly tired of these damn'd Dutchmen. Besides I have not stirred out of Stable except now and then to Exercise, for this Month past, with the Gout; and my near Leg is devilishly puff'd still about the Fetlock. Is not this a sad Misfortune for a young

Fellow as I am, just coming four and twenty? And as to the Farriers, or Apothecaries as they call them, I never knew such a Pack of Blockheads in my Life. Their Remedies may do very well for a Dutch Constitution, but I am sure they are enough to ruin an English one. The People too seem dreadfully stupid in general, and there is scarce a rational Riding-School or Turf Coffee-House in the Place. Apropos, I bought a restiff Dutch Coach-Horse about six Weeks ago for four Pound ten, to amuse my Mornings with; and worked him up and down the Streets, to the great Annoyance of the Burgomasters. I very near broke my Neck last Night. Coming Home late, with two young Fellows that I

scraped Acquaintance with about three Days before; I fell over a Sow that lay snoring in the Middle of the Street. She turned round immediately to bite me, but before she had Time to get up, we tied her Neck and Heels with an Handkerchief, dragged her to a purblind Apothecary's Door, and swore there was a Woman in Labour. Down he came in his Nightcap, and we took to our Heels, leaving him to deliver her as well as he could. Adieu, I hope to see England next Month, or perhaps sooner.
Yours, ever, Thoroughbred Rugg.

Mrs. MELMOTH to Mrs. MANCEL.
Pall-Mall,May.
My Dear Mother,
YOU desire me in your last to to give you some Account of what is going forward in this gay World, what public Diversions are chiefly frequented, and, in one Word, what is the Ton. The Newspapers you complain, give such strange Accounts of Depravity of Morals, Extravagance of Dress, and epidemical Folly on all Sides, that you cannot credit it; and indeed I was almost as faithless as yourself, till my own Eye-sight

converted, or at least convinced me. For, without ocular Demonstration, "Who," (as Gonzalez says in the Tempest,)
Would believe that there were Mountaineers
Dewlapt like Bulls, whose Throats had hanging at them
Wallets of Flesh? Or that there were such Women
Whose Heads stood in their Breasts? But now
I'll believe both: — and what does else want credit, come to me
And I'll be sworn 'tis true. Travellers ne'er lied
Tho' Fools at Home condemn them.—

Really, the whole seems like a Dream to me, and I shall not be thoroughly awake again, till I get back into the Country. To begin with our own Sex, as we certainly claim the Preference in every Thing, "The human Face divine," which was wont to possess some Share of Pre-eminence, and with its natural

Appendage of Hair, and a few artificial Ornaments, formed the Capital of the Pillar: — "The human Face divine" appears now, according to the exact fashionable Proportion, in the Middle of the Figure; and a Lady of the Ton, groaning under her enormous Superstructure of Hair, Wool, Pins, Powder and Pomatum; decorated and tricked out with her Flower Garden, her Kitchen Garden, and her Orchard; her Cabbages, her Radishes, and her Apples: looks as if she had ran away with some Milkmaid's May Garland, or was sinking under the complicated Ruin of a Green-Grocer's Stall. Mr. Melmoth, for to call him Husband, would be utterly Gothic, keeps a Chair for me to visit in, but I fear

I must soon put him to the Expense of another, as I find it morally impossible to move about in the same Vehicle with my Head-dress, which I design to be preceded by in future, as the Knights were by their Helmet, in Days of Chivalry. Nor are the Men one whit behind us in Point of Extravagance and Absurdity. I never see one of them on Horseback when the Sun shines, but I think of the Knight of the Looking Glasses in Don Quixote, with Buttons as large and as beautiful as the Brass-plates on a Street-door. To compensate however for this Extravagance, their Waistcoats are generally laced, like a Woman's Stays, and without any Buttons at all. Then nobody can stir without two Watches, (so that a Man need

never be at a Loss to know how much Time he wastes,) and these decorated with enormous Gold Chains, and as many Seals and Trinkets as would furnish a Jew Pedlar's Travelling-Box. As for the Article of Buckles, their Size may perhaps render them extremely serviceable as Bridges in crossing over a Kennel, but for their Beauty I must beg to be excused. A few Nights since I went to Stevens's Lecture upon Heads, and was not a little entertained. He ridicules all the fashionable Absurdities most excellently. A Head he defines to be a Kind of Wen, or Fungus, or in the Language of Botanists, a Sort of Bulbous Excrescence, growing out between the Shoulders; whose chief Use is, to hang a Hat

upon, have one's Hair dressed? upon, and the like. And so much for the Vanities of this Wicked World. Next Week I believe we shall return to the Country, as Mr. Melmoth begins to think his Presence necessary amongst his Workmen, and I poor vulgar Creature, find myself almost tired with this perpetual Round of Confusion. So very luckily both Husband and Wife are agreed in this Matter. As I shall see you soon, I will not prolong my Scrawl, but conclude with an Ode I received lately from a Lady of my Acquaintance, exceedingly applicable to the present Subject. It was sent her from America by her Nephew, who protests it is founded on Facts,

however you may believe the Verity of it or not, as you feel most disposed.—
ODE.
Twas near a lofty Mansion's Side,
Where big with Continental Pride,
Met Boston's Patriot Race;
Sublimest of the feather'd Kind,
Belinda, British Dame, reclined,
Gaz'd Pensive in her Glass.
The varying Glories of her Vest,
Her tow'r-crown'd Head, denote her Drest
By Coteriean Laws;
Her Plumes that might with Ostrich vie,
Or buskin'd Chief in Tragedy,
She sees, and nods Applause.
Still had she gaz'd: when with rude Throng
An uncouth Vase borne swift along,
Broke short each pleasing Dream:
The feather'd Covering's Silver Hue,
Thro' richest Plumage to the View
Betray'd a Sable Gleam.

The hapless Nymph with Wonder view'd;
With smother'd Laugh th' inhuman crowd
In Expectation gathers:
She stretch'd her Hand to reach the Prize;
What Female loves not Novelties!
What British Female, Feathers!
Presumptuous Maid! with Looks intent,
Again she stretch'd, again she bent
Some clust'ring Plume to win;
The slippery Verge her Grasp beguil'd,
(Whilst Blackguard Boys stood by and smile'd,)
She tumbled headlong in.
Full swift emerging from the Tub,
Her Eyes obscur'd she strove to rub,
And shriek'd for Drops and Pity;
No feather-headed Friend appear'd,
Nor Devonshire nor Derby heard
Her melancholy Ditty.
From hence, ye Beauties, undeceiv'd;
Know one false Step is ne'er retriev'd,
Belinda's Fate beware!
From Levity Misfortune grows;
Thorns often lurk beneath the Rose,
Beneath the Feathers, Tar.

Adieu, my Dear Mother, believe me,

Yours, with the utmost Affection, Eliza Melmoth.

CHRISTOPHER HARTLEY, Esq to Sir ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.
Hill-street, Berkeley-square,May 24th, past 12 at Night.
My dear old Friend Sir Anthony,
HAVING now been in London for some Weeks, for you know I have been here ever since I left Staples, I begin to think of writing to you, to inquire after your Health, and to mention such Circumstances as may have befallen me since our last Meeting. It has always been my earnest Wish and Desire, as you certainly must well remember, I having frequently

opened myself on this Subject to you, to procure for my Daughter a Man of deep Literature, of profound and scientific Erudition, as an Husband. Learning, says the Proverb, is better than House and Land,
For when House and Land are gone and spent,
Then Learning is most excellent.
and indeed I do not know how I should have weathered my Way through so many Years as I have done, without it. My Daughter is fond of gadding about and racketting at Public Places at present 'tis true, but I don't doubt, if I can meet with such an Husband for her, she will be quite another Thing, and then she may learn Logic and Mathematics and Greek;

and that will be an everlasting Fund of Amusement, even though they should live all the Year in the Country. I do not much care about the Matter of Fortune in my Choice. That will be no Object with me. She is my only Child, and I have enough for both of them. But to come to the Point. Do you know, my good old Friend, I really think I have found the Man I could wish for. This very Evening I was drinking Tea at Mrs. Cypher's, when, amongst other Questions, enquiring after her Son who is of the University; she told that he was gone upon a Visit to her Brother for a few Days, that he was but just come up from Oxford, and had with much Difficulty brought his Tutor Mr. Pedant

with him, a Gentleman of about thirty Years of Age, and who was reputed one of the cleverest, most learned, most agreeable Men in the University: but added she with a Sneer, he has kept it all to himself as yet; for though he has been here three Days, he has not advanced farther than Negatives and Affirmatives in his Discourse: However, you will see him presently. These Words were scarce out of her Mouth, before the Door opened softly, and in came Mr. Pedant. I rose from my Chair as he approached, in which he immediately seated himself, without uttering a Word. I must own I thought this a little odd; but learned Men will have their Oddities: So I drew another, and began

entering into a Discourse with him. Whilst I confined myself to the Politics and Public Amusements of our Country, I cannot say that I found him very Communicative. This is certainly a Mark of Wisdom and Erudition! But when at last I touched upon the Manners of the Ancients, and the Difference between the Policy of those Times and our own, I perceived his Chair sliding gradually nearer and nearer to me, bringing himself along with it, with his Eyes fixed earnestly on the Fender. Presently he turned his Face towards me, and in a half Whisper, that the Rest of the Company might not hear our Discourse, began with the Wrath of Achilles in a dozen Lines from Homer, and before we parted, which

was not till near ten o'Clock, had given me a very complete Epitome of the Grecian History, interspersed with excellent Remarks and Greek Quotations from Herodotus, Thucydides, &c. which, though I did not understand all of them, and cannot say I absolutely remember any, yet nevertheless gave me an infinite Degree of Pleasure and Satisfaction. In short, my old Friend, you may suppose I was quite enraptured, and immediately invited him to Breakfast with me the next Morning, to which he at first appeared to assent very readily, but when I mentioned my having a Daughter at Home who was young and handsome, he seemed much disturbed, and would fain have pretended an absolute Obligation

to return directly to Oxford. I suppose he began to suspect my Intentions upon him, and thought his Time too precious to be wasted in the Company of Women. Indeed I in some Degree intimated my Wishes for such a Son-in-law, which might give him sufficient Reason for his Distrust. However, I would not let him off. So I hurried Home, and having acquainted my Daughter with the happy Prospect she had of such a Husband, and ordered her to prepare to receive him, I could not help sitting down instantly to inform you of it, and, as I fear the Post is gone out, will send it by the early Stage tomorrow tied up like a Parcel, that you may receive this happy Intelligence as speedily as possible. My

dear old Friend, good by'e to you. I shall not sleep a Wink to-night.

Your most true Friend, Christopher Hartley.
P. S. Mr. Pedant said he should certainly go to Oxford in a Day or two.

Miss HARTLEY to Miss RUGG.
Hill-Street,May,
O My dear Girl, what strange Things I have to tell you! Such a Creature, such a Lump of Learning has my Father picked out for my Husband! You know his absurd Bigotry that way. But I will scribble down the whole Transaction. Last Night, my Dear, as I was just returned from two Routs, and going to Dress for the Pantheon Masquerade; half awake, half asleep, sitting on a Sopha; in twenty Minds whether I should go, or send an Excuse to my Party; half eat up with the Spleen, the Vapours,

and that Kind of Ennuyant Nothing-to-do-ishness which is worse than all the Rest:—The Door flew open, and in hurried my Father, as fast as ever two Sticks and a Pair of gouty Legs could carry him. "My Dear Child," says he, "make yourself happy! Your utmost Wishes will be satisfied!" So, thought I, what the Deuce is in the Wind now. "My Dear Sir," says I, turning round to him, "what have you done? Have you got me a Ticket for Lady Racket's Private Concert." "Concert," quoth he, "No, my Dear, I have at last found out an Husband for you. I met him this Night at Mrs. Cypher's, and have prevailed on him to Breakfast here to-morrow and pay you a Visit." Well, thought I, this must

be a curious Creature indeed, if it is of your choosing. "He is rather silent to be sure," added he, "but you must talk to him. I'm sure he is very learned."
After a little more Discourse of this Sort, and five hundred Encomiums passed upon Mr. Pedant, for that is his Name; off he went to Bed; and for myself, my Mind was too much engaged with the Drollery of the Adventure, to suffer my going out that Night. So I rang my Bell, and went to Bed also; dreamt all Night of nothing but Bookworms and Conjurers, and at last waked in an horrible Fright with the Idea that I was almost squeezed to death by a great Dictionary, that had fallen upon me from the Top of a Cupboard.

In Process of Time, as old story Books say, Morning arrived, which I had through mere Curiosity been longing for during the last three Hours, almost as much as if I had been to see—any Body you choose to guess at. Between ten and eleven, having waited some Time for Mr. Pedant, we sat down to Breakfast; and just as the second Dish was poured out, a double Knock proclaimed his Arrival. The Room Door opened, and in about half a Minute my Lover appeared. His Method of Approach was to be sure somewhat singular. Whilst the Door served him for a Screen, his Advance was sideways, somewhat in the Stile of a Crab, with his Face close towards it. This was followed by a sudden Evolution

upon the Heel to shut it after him; in which Situation he remained near a Minute, exhibiting one of the most ridiculous Back Fronts I ever beheld. At last, having atchieved this important Business, he suffered us to take a Peep at his Face, through the Medium of a dirty Pocket-Handkerchief, which he had whipped up to his Nose at the Instant he turned towards us; but never was any awkward School-boy, when he comes home for the Holidays, and finds his Mother in a Circle of Company, half so gauche or decontenancé. His Feet seemed fixed to the Ground at the awful Appearance of your humble Servant. Really, I never thought myself quite so terrible before. By and by he advanced, with the left Hand

fumbling in his Pocket, as if he had lost Something, and the other holding fast by the lower Button of his Coat: but as Ill-luck would have it, he had scarce proceeded three Steps, when as he was gaping about for a Place to lay his Hat, and a Chair to sit down on, the sublime Majesty of my Presence, assisted by a Corner of the Carpet, (according to the Doctrine of second Causes) which his Foot happened to catch in, so staggered him, that down he prostrated at my Feet, like a Persian before the Sun. Poor Man! I thought he had been in a Fit at first! Should not you, my Dear? So I ran up to him, and dropping upon one Knee, "My dear Mr. Pedant, this is Adoration indeed! Nothing Apoplectic? Nothing

of the Dead Palsy sure? You are not hurt, I hope?" "No, he was not," he said with an Air sufficiently inelegant; and at the same Instant rising with all the Hurry of Awkwardness, (not so nimbly however, but that he contrived to tear my Apron and crush my Father's gouty Toe in his Recovery,) he squatted in the first Chair he came to, which happened to be mine, and sliding one Leg softly over the other, fixed his Eyes upon his Shoe with a Look of Contemplation, which I believe would have continued till this Time, if nobody had disturbed him. Well, nothing is so odious as to see a Man in a brown Study, or what is still worse, picking his Thumbs, and buttoning and unbuttoning his

Waistcoat like a City Taylor trying an ill-made Suit of clothes on. In this Attitude, however, did he contrive to drink a Dish of Tea which I carried him, and to eat two or three Pieces of Bread and Butter. As soon as the Breakfast Things were taken away, my Father, that he might not spoil Courtship, rose to leave the Room. His poor Companion, though he had all the Dread of altering his Position as strong upon him as ever, could not resist the Attraction; but absolutely varied his Attitude, and stealing his Head over his Shoulder by Degrees, like a Boy that is afraid of an Apparition after he has been hearing frightful Stories, eyed him wishfully to

the Door, and if mauvaise honte had not for once stood his Friend, would I dare say have given up all his Stock of Politeness to have followed him.
He cast one longing lingering Look behind.
We were now left to ourselves. I, in that odd Kind of dubious Humour which a Woman feels when she is in half a Dozen Minds whether to be cross or not, found myself monstrously disposed for a little ill-natured Raillery; whilst my Swain, so far from languishing with all the Ardour of an expiring Inamorato, or opening his unhappy Case with a Sigh of Despondency, endeavoured to entertain himself as aforesaid, by squeezing

and twisting his Fingers, and distorting his Countenance, like a starved Frog in a Fit of the Cholic.
True Love, they say, is always accompanied with Fear. It deprives the most Eloquent of the Powers of Speech, embarrasses the easy and polite Man, and in short turns the whole human System topsy turvey. If this be true, and if it be true likewise, that Mr. Pedant is a polite and agreeable Man, as my Father tells me, he must be most desperately smitten indeed, and I fear, poor Fellow, from the little Encouragement he is likely to receive from me, will very soon put an End to himself; or resume his Sciences, which I believe will

be much the same Thing to the World in general.
Well, my Dear, for two whole Hours I tormented him with a continued String of Common-place Chit-chat and every day Questions, in which I was much assisted by the two Miss Yaffles, who accidentally dropped in upon me. I abused the Cut of his Coat, informed him his Waistcoat was too long in the Pockets, and enquired whether his Taylor was a Frenchman. I asked him how he liked the new Opera, whether he was at the Pantheon last Monday, and told him I heard that he was a Proprietor of Ranelagh. When I flagged for a Minute, my Companions opened upon him, and kept up an incessant Annoyance, which he endured

not so much from Patience, I believe, as from the Horrors of making a Bow if he left us. At last a polite Thundering at the Door, like an additional Broadside, determined him; and considering that if he did not depart immediately, the Enemy would receive a Reinforcement, he jumped up from his Chair in an Instant, and retreated like the American Army in a Gazette, with the utmost Confusion.
Alas, poor Easy! thou art ignorant what a dangerous Rival opposes thee! But I do not think you will remain long so, if it is in mine or my Father's Power to acquaint you with it. Here is the State of the Case. An agreeable young Fellow introduces himself to

my Father at Bath, and by the assistance of quick Parts, and a long Cock-and-Bull Story, works himself completely into his good Graces. Soon after it is thought necessary that I should be married, and for this Purpose my wise Parent picks out, as I verily believe, one of the awkwardest Boobies in the whole Kingdom of Great-Britain for his Daughter to pay her Addresses to. However, a Confidant is thought requisite to talk Matters over with, and now of all the Birds in the Air, who would you suppose the quick-sighted old Gentleman pitches upon, but this very agreeable young Fellow, this identical Easy, whose Attachment to this very Daughter of his, if he

had had the Sight of a Mole, he must have discovered over and over again, before this Time.
This last Business of the Confidant, I gathered from some Hints he dropped to-day; for so much is his Mind occupied between his own Plan of Operations, and his Investigation of what perhaps never happened among the Ancients; that no Possibility ever enters his Head of the Enemy's being employed in counteracting him. If I don't see the dear Fellow in a Day or two, I'll write to him however, that he may be prepared to receive this great Trust and Secret with due Composure of Countenance. Adieu, my dear Rugg, expect farther Dispatches

speedily with the freshest Intelligence.
Yours, till Marriage at least, For then I suppose I must belong entirely to my Husband, Catharine Hartley.

WILLIAM EASY, to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Temple,May 27th, Ten o'Clock at Night.
O CHARLES! O my Friend! I am ruined! I am undone! I, who last Night about this Time, was the most happy Man breathing, am now the most miserable! I am betrayed, robbed, murdered, and thrown into a Ditch! "Such were," or at least such would be the Sounds of some despairing Bookseller's Prentice, if he caught his favourite Delia in Bed with a Chimney-sweeper. Such Plaints, such miserable Exclamations would

he blubber forth from the Abundance of his Master's Circulating Library, when he found a Child sworn to him by his Mistress, whose Creation he was conscious of having never assisted in. But I, Charles, whom Difficulty does but encourage; who find my Ardour increase in Proportion to the Obstacles I am to encounter; shall tell you in plain English, and in perfect Composure, that I am rivalled in Miss Hartley's Affections. Perhaps now you think me rather too Easy after such a Discovery. I fancy however, you will not be of that Opinion, when I let you a little into the Character of my Opponent, and the Means by which I became acquainted with the Affair. His Name is Pedant; his

Profession a College Tutor, his Age I guess at about Thirty, for I remember him well at the University about three Years longer standing than myself. He is one of that particular Species of Beings who at School gain the Imputation of something uncommonly clever, from a Kind of solitary Vanity and Affectation of Manliness which they have about them; who never join in any of the Sports of their Schoolfellows, but instead of playing at Cricket or Football on an Holiday, pretend to read Greek under a Tree for their Amusement, (in Imitation of the old Pagans I suppose in the hallowed Groves of Academe;) and are for ever puzzling their Leisure Hours with Authors that they are not required to look

into, and cannot possibly understand. With this Stock of Knowledge they are sent to the University, where they probably get a Scholarship, or some little Emolument of that Sort. Their Mind is now bewildered in all the Labyrinths of Science; and having in the Course of about seven Years sufficiently perplexed themselves with Mathematics, sophisticated themselves with Logic, and got through all the Farce and methodized Nonsense necessary for taking Degrees, the Generals, Juraments, Wall Lectures, and Examinations: they start up all at once, Masters of Arts, Tutors and Governors of their College; a Set of the most erudite, insolent, awkward, uncivilized Animals that ever honoured an University,

or disgraced all other Parts of a Kingdom. In Regard to the History of the Day, or how the World goes, as we say; their Ignorance of present Occurrences is equalled by nothing but their thorough Acquaintance with the Statesmen, Warriours, and Demireps of Antiquity. They are all a thousand Years behind Hand; and I dare say would give a much better Account of the Bellum Peloponnesiacum, the Pestilence that raged among the Athenians, or the Burning of Rome by Nero the Emperor, than they could possibly do of the present Contest with America, the dreadful Effects of the late terrible Influenza, or the firing Portsmouth Dock-yard by John the Painter. Strip their Gowns from their

Shoulders, and lock them out of their Library, their magical Powers are at an End; and if they were turned loose in London in this Situation, they would be far more at a Loss in every Respect, than the late imported Specimen of Savages from the Islands of the South. "Remember, (as Caliban says of Prospero)
First to possess his Books, for without them
He's but a Sot as I am; and hath not
One Spirit to command.—Burn but his Books.
Well, my dear Friend, do you think you should know this Rival from the Description I have given; and do you think there is much to be feared from him, all Circumstances considered? Miss Hartley

laughs at him, and tormented him so completely the last Visit he made her, which by the Bye was the first, and that owing to her Father's pressing Invitation, that I suspect he will soon fly off in a Tangent, and have nothing farther to say to her. But now for the Means by which I gained all this Knowledge. This whole Day has been spent with old Hartley. As soon as we were left to ourselves after Dinner, he began with Mr. Pedant, and in about half an Hour unfolded his Plan of Operations to me as completely as I could have wished▪ concluding with desiring my Assistance as Confidant. That before he left London, which would not be till the End of July, he meant

to visit Oxford, whither he hoped I would accompany him, and that he should if possible, prevail upon Pedant to spend some Time with him in Dorsetshire. During this Discourse, you may guess I was in a most ridiculous Situation. However, I smothered my Astonishment tolerably well, and entirely acquiesced in every Thing; pretending to approve his Plan highly. After Tea, the old Gentleman took a Nap, and consequently gave me the Opportunity of a charming Tête à Tête with my Kitty, (as I hope she will be.) which I believe did not much promote Mr. Pedant's Interest. On Saturday he departs to Oxford, as I shall immediately to

Bed, and defer the Conclusion of this Letter till to-morrow. Good Night to you.
W. Easy.

EASY in Continuation.
May 28th, Friday Morning.
IF you find any Thing abrupt or unconnected in this second Part of my Letter, you must attribute it to the ridiculous Manner in which I was waked this Morning. Between seven and eight o'Clock, an Hour when you know nobody is stirring in London except Dustmen and Chimney-sweepers, with here and there an accidental Milkmaid, or a Carriage returning from the Masquerade; I was roused from a very sound Sleep by a violent and incessant Thundering at my Door. By the Time I had

opened my Eyes, and turned about to see what was the Matter; I discovered the Author of all this Riot, who had forced his Way in, and was standing by my Bed-side. He was a very shabby looking Fellow, about the middle Size, with an old rusty Hat flapped over his Face, a threadbare Coat of coarse blue Kersey, close buttoned, and in his Hand a very inimical Oak Staff of at least two Inches diameter. For some Time I was in doubt whether to consider him as a Thief, Thief-taker, or Bailiff; three Characters I am exceedingly averse to being connected with; and should probably have laboured much longer under this Uncertainty, had I not recognized the Voice of our old Friend and

Schoolfellow, Sir Thoroughbred Rugg, who arrived in England about three Days before, and now made his Appearance with the Intention of breakfasting with me. Whilst I was dressing, he entertained me with the Detail of some of his Holland Exploits. How he had terrified two Jew Merchants into a Fit of Illness, by committing the dark Deed of Nature on their Sabbath, with a mad Dutchwoman under a Hedge, whom he gave a Schelling for her Trouble, and had his Pocket picked into the Bargain. How he had got drunk about a Week before he left the Hague, and had thrown two Clappermen into one of the Canals, having first packed them up carefully in a Couple of four-dozen Hampers.

And finally, how he had been rambling half over London last Night. with his two Friends, Jack Surcingle and Tom Fetlock, whom he had met by Accident at the Piazza Coffee-house. How they had all been to a great Fire that had happened somewhere or other, though he had forgot where: that he had ran up one of the Ladders, and brought down a Woman and Child from a two pair of Stairs Room that was burning; had drank Purl with the Firemen; and as he was coming home, had got into an empty Watch-box, and made a one-eyed Watchman take to his Heels, and drop his Staff and Lantern, by jumping out upon him and crying boh! as he was returning to his Stand from the Ale-house;

and how he had hung up another to the Hooks of a Butcher's Shambles by the Waistband of his Breeches.
By the Time these Histories were finished, I was dressed and ready for Breakfast; when just as the first Dish of Tea was poured out, he recollected that his Face had not been washed since his Arrival in England, and ran immediately to my washing Stand. This however did not answer his Purpose, as the Bason, which I had just been using, was not emptied. That it was possible to throw its Contents out of the Window, and fill it with clean Water, never once occurred to him, if one may judge from the Method he substituted; which was no other than dipping the Corner

of the Breakfast Cloth into his Tea-cup, and wiping himself with his dirty Pocket Handkerchief. My Breakfast and his Ablution being finished, he turned his Face towards the Looking-glass, and unluckily discovered that shaving also was in some Degree proper, as he was engaged out to Dinner. So all necessary Implements being produced for the Purpose, he began his Operation; but had scarcely cleared one Side of his Countenance, when the injudicious Motion of the under Jaw, occasioned by some sudden Remark he was about to make, laid the Razor a full half Inch into his Cheek. Blood followed pretty plentifully as you may imagine: This however being staunched by scraping

from his Hat the small Quantity of Nap that remained there, and applying to the Wound; he determined to avoid risquing a second Incision, by leaving the other Side of his Face untouched; and having staid with me about an Hour longer, he sallied out to pay a few more Morning Visits, and from thence to the House whither he was engaged to Dinner.
If ever Man had Pretensions to Originality, surely this has! and yet with all his Oddities and Foibles, one cannot help liking him. He is, I really think, a very worthy Fellow at Bottom, and has a good Heart. Old Thistleberry, the Parson of his Parish in Yorkshire is dead lately, and he means to present Tom Fetlock, who is in Orders,

to the Living. In a few Days he goes to Woodstock upon a Visit to his Uncle and Sister, and from thence to Foxhall, his Yorkshire Seat. His Sister I believe accompanies him thither, and I am engaged to pay him a Visit when I can find Leisure. This I fancy will soon take place, as I should wish to spend some Time there, and must nevertheless return to London early enough to attend old Hartley on his curious Oxford Expedition. Vive, Vale, farewell.
Your's, W. Easy.

CHARLES MELMOTH, to WILLIAM EASY.
Melmoth Place,June,
YOUR last Letter my dear Easy, was really a great Treat to me, and I give you Joy of your Rival from the Bottom of my Soul. What a Fund of Entertainment must he be to Miss Hartley his intended Wife, if he accepts her Father's Invitation into Dorsetshire; which however I have my Doubts about. How often will his Presence be useful, "Vice Cotis," instead of a Whetstone, to sharpen her Wit upon, and relieve her

Spirits from the dreadful Dejection of a Country Atmosphere. Though I don't think her one of those mad Girls, who can never exist but in the Noise and Dissipation of London. She likes it very much when she is there 'tis true, as indeed is natural enough; but I really believe her capable of spending her Summer in the Country, with no other Diversions than her Books, her Horse, and her Husband, provided she is fond of him; and now and then the Variety of visiting in a good Neighbourhood. This at least is the Opinion I have been inclined to entertain from what I have heard or seen of her, since the Night you introduced me at Ranelagh, and you know I pique myself upon a ready Discernment,

even into Women's Characters. The Contrast between Pedant and our Friend, Sir Thoroughbred, in the first and second Parts of your Letter, is exceedingly ridiculous, and upon Paper makes no bad Figure. How exquisite must a Meeting be between them! I remember we had many of those walking Libraries at Cambridge. I am glad the said Sir Thoroughbred is returned from the Hague; my Compliments when you go down. As you wisely remark, there is something very original in the Composition of that Man. Take away his excessive Passion for Horses; (and yet, as every Body has their Hobby-horse, the Object perhaps may as well be real as metaphorical) His Imitation of Charles the Twelfth in all the

negative Excellencies of dirty Face and Hands, old blue Coats, and Brass Buttons; and that strange Extravagance and Wildness, which is sometimes the Cause of good, and sometimes of foolish Actions, just as it happens: which as Whim and Humour prompt, will induce him to rescue a Woman out of a Fire, or to throw a Waiter into one: take away all this, I say, and he is a very rational Fellow. As to Sense, he is possessed of very quick natural Parts, though I cannot say much for their Cultivation. Literature he never was particularly fond of, and when at the University, the illiberal Manners of its Teachers, greatly contributed I believe to make him despise the one for the Faults of the

other, and throw it up entirely. This was my general Opinion of his Character when I last saw him, and by your Account of his Morning Visit in the Temple, his Travels do not seem to have produced the least Alteration. I may add likewise, as the finishing Stroke to his Picture, and which indeed the utter Neglect of his Person somewhat prepares one for; that in Regard to all the Minutiae of Life, if I may so call them, such as snuffing a Candle without throwing the Snuff about, mending a Pen, tearing a Piece of Paper evenly, or sealing a Letter without burning both it and his own Fingers, with five Hundred other little Excellencies of this Sort, he has not the least Idea of them. Now whether

this proceeds from a natural and innate Awkwardness in such Matters, or a Degree of Absence and Inattention to them, I never yet could determine. For if he wanted a Pair of clean Stockings, and his Servant should bring a Silk and a Thread one, or a Pair with half a dozen great Holes in them, he would put them on without perceiving either the one or the other. All these Peculiarities, Easy, you are full as well acquainted with as myself, but upon mentioning his Name, I could not help falling into Remarks, and scribbling my Paper with them.
To return now to the Beginning of your Letter, (for I will not trouble you this Time with any Hobby-horsical Intelligence of my

Buildings and Alterations,) I am very sorry to find myself under the disagreeable Necessity of reprobating that profane Ridicule of modern Novels, with which you open your Misfortunes; and at the same Time must take the Liberty of informing you, that "What should be great, you turn to Farce," as Prior says; (I will not wish you punished by the Insertion of a Ladle;) or to search farther into Antiquity for a Quotation, "What is Sport to you is Death to us." Vide Aesop's Fable of the Boys and Frogs. To speak more plainly, though your London Volatility may prompt you to laugh at every Thing that speaks feelingly to the softer Passions; that tells the sad Tale of disappointed Love, or

breathes amidst innumerable Stars and Dashes, the Strains of Refinement and Sensibility: our Country Swains and Damsels are very differently affected by them. To promote your Conversion, if that be possible, I desire you will read the enclosed Letter, which was found a few Days since in a Closet in one of the Garrets, and by the Signature appears to have been written by Mrs. Melmoth's last Maid, who quitted her about a Twelvemonth ago. I always thought there was something particular and romantic in the Girl, and suspected a Love Affair at the Bottom. The Argument of the enclosed is as follows. That John o'Nokes and herself felt a mutual Attachment to each other, and that she had almost given her

Consent to marry him; but that unluckily Tom O'Stiles becoming acquainted with her about that Time, is likewise desperately smitten. Upon this, he declares his Passion; and she, though not experiencing any similar Inclination on her Part, and being also previously engaged, is nevertheless worked up to such a Pitch of general Philanthropy, and Sentiment, and Pathos, &c. &c. &c. as to determine that she will marry neither of them, and by this noble Self-denial, (according to our dull Apprehensions at least) she makes three People unhappy instead of one. Whether she took her Idea from Foote's Primitive Puppetshow, I cannot pretend to say. As to the Letter, it appears to

have been written just before she quitted our Place, and whither she went afterwards, nobody knows hereabouts. However I send you the Original, and leave you to decipher it at your Leisure.
About ten o'Clock last Night, I was not a little surprised by the Appearance of my Brother George at Melmoth-Place, when I imagined him treading the Paths of Slaughter in America. I cannot say his Looks are much improved by the Expedition. Indeed he says that he has hardly enjoyed a Day's good Health since he left England, and as the Climate does not at all agree with his Constitution, he has obtained Leave of Absence, and has some Thoughts of resigning his Commission, and entirely quitting

the Army, which he mentioned to General Howe before his Departure. He says he had written a Letter to me about two Months since, which I suppose must have miscarried. One of his first Enquiries was after Miss Rugg, for whom you know he always professed a certain Tendre, as far at least as his Nature is capable of; so I dare say, if she goes down to Yorkshire with Sir Thoroughbred, you will soon see him there. He still retains his Attachment to Morocco Pocket Books, Shagreen Toothpick Cases, and Orange Flower Pomade; and continues to read Lord Chesterfield's Letters with much Devotion, though I don't think he imbibes any of the pernicious Parts of them. A-propos—

he talks of writing a long Letter to you soon, on the Presumption of which Event taking Place, I think it high Time to subscribe myself as I really am,
Yours, sincerely, Charles Melmoth.

The Inclosed Letter.
'TIS past! the fatal Trial is over; and my Resolutions are invincibly fixed. What have been my Sensations, what have been my Sufferings, since I last saw you Roger! But, alas! such is the Unhappiness of my Destiny! why was I born to such a Load of unmerited Misfortune; why was my Life marked out for one continued Scene of Misery and Distress! It is too—too much! my Soul sinks under it; and with a weak tremulous Languor, wafts its Prayers incessant to the Throne of Mercy, to put a

finite Period to the peculiar Wretchedness of its Existence.
How happy was our last Meeting, when we passed our Sunday Evening in the Fields of —. The Country seemed to glow with unusual Verdure; whilst before us the Prospect wide extending itself, incorporated its boundless Limits in the blue Distance of Immensity. The May Thorn breathed forth its bitter Fragrance, and every Bush was impregnated with the mellifluous Lays of the Thrush and the Nightingale. The very Daisies smiled at our Felicity, whilst the Butterflowers rearing high their yellow Heads, sought to emulate

the Tranquillity of the golden Age.
We proceeded to Lord D—'s Park. A fine River winds its Way in serpentine Meandrings through the green Verdure of its Banks. At the Source in a reclining Posture, is a Figure of Neptune in Stone, incomparably executed. His right Arm rests upon an Urn, from whence the Stream disgorging itself, rushes onward with an impetuous Torrent, forming a most beautiful Cascade. Hark! didn't I hear Betty call me? I'll just step down stairs for a Minute to see what she wants. * * * Oh! 'tis nothing but the Man with Fish! "We don't want any to-day."
We seated ourselves by the Side of it; and gazed at the Multitude

of litttle Fishes, which leaping incessantly after the Flies that skimmed upon its Surface, dimpled the Water with innumerable Circles. Around us Herds of spotted Deer were roving, or stretched incumbent on the rushy Banks, fearless of Acteon's fate.—Another Interruption! my Mistress's Bell rings! What can she want with me!— * * * * *. I am just returned from her. I'm quite out of Breath! 'twas only to fetch some Water to wash her Hands with.
On a sudden a dark Cloud, as if envious of our Felicity, and ominously portending the sad Reverse that awaited us, obscured the Face of the Sun, which till then had shone upon us with undiminished Lustre. A heavy Storm of Rain

succeeded, and we were compelled to take Shelter in a Grotto at the Corner of the Wood, where * * * * * * * *.
[Here several Lines are entirely obliterated. Hiatus valde deflendus.]
I was sitting in my Mistress's Closet; the Family were gone out to pay a Visit. My right Leg, resting its Ancle upon my left Knee, sustained itself horizontally, whilst I mended a Hole in my new Cotton Stockings. Dear Cotton Stockings! ye pure Emblems of my Roger's Love! A gentle Tap at the Door—my Heart palpitated as I heard it. I fancied it might be you! The Tap was repeated, but with a Sound methought expressive

of Unhappiness and Submission! I was at that Instant endeavouring to push a fresh Piece of Thread through the Eye of my Needle. Come in, I cried with a Tone of Surprise and Irresolution! The Door opened! With a Face wan and death-like, he stood before me!—'Twas Humphrey, the poor unhappy Humphrey! On his Countenance had seated itself a fixed Melancholy! His Lips quivered with Sorrow, but he remained speechless before me. Judge the Wretchedness of my Situation! The Thread dropped from my Hand, and I stuck the Needle into my * * * * * *†. Blood immediately

followed the Stroke, and I suffered a considerable Degree of Anguish. But, alas! what was that Pain compared to my mental Affliction. He drew a Chair, and seated himself by me without speaking a Word. On a sudden he caught my Hand, and looking steadfastly on my Face, while the Tears started from his Eye; uttered the following Words mingled with his Sighs.
"I come not, Mrs. Susan," (here his Voice faltered, and he wiped his Nose with his Sleeve) "I come not, Mrs. Susan, I say," (here he recovered himself a little,

and proceeded in a rather firmer Tone)
to displeasure you any more upon the Subject of Matrimony, as I did before; knowing well that you do not like me; and besides that you are already engaged to Roger. So, alas! there's an End of all Hopes on that Head for me! But I hope you wont be angry with me for coming to take my last farewell of you. For indeed, I could not help coming to see you before I went.
"Went," cried I, with a Voice of the utmost Pity and Surprise,
and whither art thou going?
"I'm going", cried he, sniveling,
to—to—list for a Soldier! I can't bear to see you belong to another Man!—You were the guiding Star of my Destiny, to

guide me on my Way; but when you are set in the Arms of another! I'm sure I can't, no! I never can stand it!
At these Words he started from his Chair, and with a Look of wild Disorder, slam'd the Door and left me.

Poor Soul! How I pitied him! 'Tis true, I never liked him, and that I am almost engaged to be thy Wife. But shall I, for the Sake of my own Happiness, be so selfish as to make a Fellow Creature miserable for ever? What shall I do? how shall I act in this embarrassing Dilemma? Shall I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . No—Happiness could never be my Lot. Even in thy Arms I should . . . . . Let us exert our Reason,

Roger; let us call our Fortitude to our Assistance. The Fates have decreed us to be unhappy, but it is in our own Power whether we shall make others so. If I am condemned to be wretched, it will at least be some Consolation amidst the Bitterness of my Distresses; some Alleviation of my insuperable Anguish; to reflect that I have not contributed to the Misery of another. If I am excluded from every Ray of Comfort, and compelled to wander in the dark Paths and Labyrinths of Adversity; . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ah, Roger! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I conceive . . . . . . his Misery, . . . . . . . . . the

Pains of . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Labour he must endure, what intolerable Hardships!
From the World I seclude myself for ever! such is my fixed Resolution. Before this reaches you, I leave my Place, and quit this Part of the Country! Enquire no farther. To find me out you need not endeavour. I go where you will never more hear of the most unfortunate of her Sex! Adieu!— Farewell — for e—ver!
Susannah Sentiment.

Miss HARTLEY to Miss RUGG.
Hill-street,June,
MY dear Rugg, how long do you mean to keep that odious Name by you? I protest it gives one the Idea of something uncivilized even in the writing it, and disperses every finer Idea one might have to communicate. Besides, 'tis so wholly inconsistent with your Character. Do look out for a young Fellow with something delicate and piano in his Appellation, and with a Disposition suited to your own. Shall I recommend one to you? Or will you accept of

one of mine? Easy I cannot spare, but you are welcome to my Father's Friend, Mr. Pedant; at least as soon as I am tired with teasing him. He is returned to Oxford; the fittest Place for him. What think you of the Name? How would the Title of Mrs. Pedant, Wife and Bedmaker to a College Tutor, sound in your Ears?
Not to joke longer, I have really a great Piece of News for you, and something to propose seriously to your Consideration in the Matrimonial Way. As for myself, I believe I never shall think seriously of any Thing 'till I am married; and then I suppose I must draw myself up with my Hands before me, talk with a grave Face about the Cares of a Family, and deliberate

with my Housekeeper for two Hours every Morning, what Piece of salting Beef should be ordered from the Butcher, and whether a Gooseberry or a Currant Pye will be best for Dinner.
Come now for the News. Easy dined with us a Day or two ago, and amongst other Intelligence told us that he had received a Letter from his Friend Charles Melmoth, mentioning the Return of his Brother the Captain from America, on Account of the Climate not agreeing. What think you of him for a Caro Sposo? If I recollect, he was an old Flame of yours before he went abroad.
O! I beg Leave to congratulate you likewise upon your Brother's Arrival. The Name of Rugg was

for him and him only! Pray present my respectful Compliments, and tell him I rejoice to find he makes his public Entry in the Morning Post with so much Eclat. I have seen him there with some Circumstances in Regard to the Course of his Travels, which were entirely new to me.
Such a Day arrived in England, Sir T— R—, commonly known by the Name of the rough riding, or Thorough-bred Baronet, from his Travels to the Country of the Houyhnhnms. He is said to be much improved by this Expedition, and has brought over with him a fine Houyhnhnm Stallion, with two Yahoos to look after it. He is the second European that ever

visited those Parts, and is reported to have detected many Errors in Captain Lemuel Gulliver's Account, which it is hoped he will soon favour the Public with.

A few Days afterwards appears the following Paragraph.
We are sorry to inform the Public of the Death of one of the Animals called Yahoos, lately imported by a certain Rugg—ed Baronet, which happened on Wednesday last.
It was occasioned a Correspondent informs us, by the following Accident. The Animal it seems having some Time before been very refractory, and having even killed a Servant who attempted to chastise him, was obliged to be

closely confined. On Wednesday Morning however, his Keepers unchained him, and having as they thought sufficiently secured him with Ropes, put him into a Cart in Order to remove him; when unluckily the Rope about his Neck having a slip Knot to it, entangled with a Post not far from the Oxford Road Turnpike, and instantly strangled him. Dr. H-nt-r is said to be making Interest for the Body for Dissection, as he proposes mounting the Skeleton upon that of the Queen's Elephant, which he lately had the Honour to anatomize.

O! the Liberty of the Press, we may well cry out, that glorious Privilege of Englishmen! Pray

tell me though, in sober serious Sadness, is all this true? I have a monstrous Mind to write a long Letter to your Brother upon the Subject, and protest that I believe every Word of it. I find he intends taking you into Yorkshire with him. I wish he would bring you to London, to keep me Company for a Month, for my Father for Reasons of State, which I cannot dive thoroughly to the Bottom of, has determined to continue here till the End of July or Beginning of August. Easy tells me that he has an Oxford Jaunt in his Head, and means to transplant Pedant into Dorsetshire. What a charming Country Companion he must make, for a Tête à Tête in an Arbour, to pick up one's Ball of

Knotting, or put one's Calash on with mathematical Precision. Never need I be afraid of my Cap or Handkerchief being pinned awry, when that happy Time arrives. Besides, I dare say, as far at least as Things future may be conjectured from past, my father's great Wisdom will insist upon Easy's accompanying us, in his Capacity of Confidant and Confessor to the Party, to forward this intended Match of mine. In Expectation of these blessed Events, I conclude without farther Ceremony, Ma chere Marie,
Your's, Catharine Hartley.

Remember I shall be very angry with you though, if that demure prudish little Phiz of yours, makes any Attempts upon the Fidelity of my Knight Errant, when I venture him down in the North with you.
CHRISTOPHER HARTLEY, Esq to Sir ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.
Hill-Street,June.
WELL, my old Friend, Matters go on swimmingly between Mr. Pedant and Kitty. He came according to his Promise the next Morning to Breakfast, and very glad I was to see him. However he did not seem much inclined to talk whilst I was there, which I suppose was owing to an Unwillingness to declare himself before a third Person. So as soon as Breakfast was finished, I quitted the Room, that he might feel himself

more free and unembarassed when left alone with my Daughter. And by the Sequel it proved that this Step of mine was very judicious; for I went immediately into my Study, which is next to the Room they sat in, and listening attentively, I soon found they had begun a Conversation together, and though I could not hear what it was about, yet I am sure my Daughter was very well pleased with him, for I heard her laugh heartily. Sometime after I could distinguish two other female Voices, which upon Enquiry I found to appertain to the Miss Yaffles. These seemed join in the Discourse, which now grew louder and louder, mixed with incessant Peals of Merriment. As for Mr. Pedant, nothing could

be a stronger Proof of his Satisfaction, than that he could hardly prevail upon himself to quit them, for I believe he stayed there near four Hours. So I have no Doubt in my own Mind, but that he is a little hampered in the Charms of the Fair, for even the most learned of us sometimes feel ourselves subject to the Passion of Love. If he should, what a happy Thing it will be for my Daughter! Her Fortune will be made at once, and I can tell her such Husbands are not to be met with every Day. However, I do not say much upon the Subject to her, because I think these Things always turn out best when left to themselves; but I have contrived such a Plan as must necessarily increase the Intimacy between

them, insomuch that if I have any Skill in Prophecy, Matters will be brought to a Conclusion before the End of the Summer. I shall not let you any farther into the Secret before the first Part of my Design has actually taken Place, as upon that the Success of the whole in a great Measure depends. Not that I have the least Fear of its failing, for I have a Confidant to assist me in the Business, by whose Diligence and Exertions I have no Doubt of all Things being brough• to a right Issue. Who he is, I shall not inform you at present, a Secresy you know is the Soul of Conspiracy, and they say Walls have Ears, but shall proceed now with transcribing my Sentiments on a Subject which indeed I should

have mentioned much sooner, had not my Proceedings and Considerations concerning my Daughter's Marriage, left me hardly a Moment to spare for any other Business. I mean the Nihil or Nothing of the Schoolmen, which, if you recollect, we disputed about for three Afternoons at Staples, when neither of us being able to make his Ideas on the Subject at all clear to the Understanding of the other, we left off just where we begun.
Now I am inclined to think that there is a very considerable Distinction and Difference to be made between Nothing as taken in its strict and confined Sense, and Nothing taken in its more general and extensive one. Nothing taken strictly, seems to be that which is impossible,

and implies an absolute Contradiction; whereas Nothing taken more generally, is applied both to what is possible as well as what is impossible. Again, Nothing may be distinguished into a Negative, which is the Absence of Reality in any Subject; and then there is Nothing privative, which is the Absence of Reality in a Subject capable thereof, or wherein it ought to be found. And as to the Possibility or Impossibility of a Thing, we know that to be impossible, which exceeds or is beyond all possible Bounds, and which in short can never happen. And if this be true, it necessarily follows, according to the Argument deduced from Contraries, that whatsoever does not exceed or go beyond those

Bounds, but which, from its not exceeding, is consequently and necessarily contained therein; may be denominated or considered as a Thing possible, or to be done. And of Things possible, there are several Species. First, there is the probable, or what is likely to come to pass; then there is the improbable, or unlikely, which nevertheless is a Species of the possible, inasmuch as many Things may be very possible, though they are very improbable. And in Regard to Things probable and improbable, it is often very probable that a Thing should happen contrary to all Probability, as — . . . .

O! Fallacem Hominum Spem, fragilemque Fortunam, et inanes nostras Contentiones!
says Cicero.

—I have been this Quarter of an Hour seeking after the Continuation of my Treatise, which was written upon an old Letter Cover, and upon enquiring of my Servant if he knew any thing of the Matter, have the Unhappiness to find that before this Time it has been made Use of in cleaning a Gridiron, or singeing a Fowl, or some such culinary Employment, as he informed me that he had seen the Housemaid bringing a considerable Quantity of Papers down Stairs in the Morning, which she had given to the Cook for the Use of the Kitchen, and which me said,
she supposed were of no Signification, as she had looked at them, and cou'd'nt make nothing out of 'em, and they laid about and

look'd littering in Master's Room.
—Well, what a provoking Circumstance this is, and particularly at present, as my Thoughts are so taken up with Mr. Pedant and my Daughter, that I shall hardly find Time to compose it over again. Therefore my dear old Friend and Cousin, God be with you.

Christopher Hartley.

Sir THOROBRED RUGG to WILLIAM EASY, Esq.
Woodstock,June,
HERE I am, Easy, according to my Intentions, paying a Visit to my Uncle or Sister, and enjoying the Benefit of a Fortnight's Grass in Oxfordshire. In a few Days however I think of being led down to Foxhall, and my Sister has promised to accompany me, by way of arranging my Domestic Matters a little. The Stable I consider as my own Department, so shall not permit her to interfere

there. I came down here upon a Hack I bought at Tattersall's, which I meant to have rode to Yorkshire, but a damn'd Brute of my Uncle's, one of the Cart-horses, kicked him plump on the Stifle Yesterday Morning, as they were in the Field together. He is a develish clever Gelding. A dark Chesnut, fifteen Hands and an Inch, fine Forehand, rather too much Daylight under him, but gets on hellishly, a remarkable Gift of going, a very good Mouth, and he shall be a sound one however. So I shall be obliged to kick myself down upon Post-horses, (as for a Chaise, I hate it,) and leave him behind me for the present. I met Tom Fetlock the Day I saw you, and desired him to come to Foxhall

as soon as he could, that I should be down in ten Days or a Fortnight, and expected to find him ready to receive me. Pray when do I see you there? I hope speedily. I have a little grey Poney with a hogg'd Mane, will just suit your sober Stile of riding. It is what you would call as quiet as a Lamb, and I a damn'd Slugg, or a Jackass. At least it was so before I went Abroad. I used sometimes to ride him to cover, but he's got almost too old for Work now. I never regretted any thing so much in my Life, since the Day I strained Black Sloven leaping a Turnpike Gate, as I did losing the last Hunting Season in Holland. Poor Fellow, he never was worth Sixpence

afterwards! though I got him tolerably well of that too, but then, and what the Devil was the Meaning of it, I can't conceive, there came a Windgall in the near Fetlock behind. So I opened the Swelling about an Inch, and squeezed out the Jelly, and put some white of Egg and Oil of Bays with Tow to it, but I believe it was too much amongst the Sinews, for I was obliged to sell him at last to March at Maidenhead, who fired him and worked him on the Road. Adieu,
Yours, Thoroughbred Rugg.

Miss RUGG to Miss HARTLEY.
Woodstock,June.
MANY Thanks my Dear, for your two very communicative Letters. Upon my Word you have tormented poor Pedant in such a Manner, that I fear your Charms will hardly be able to prevent his running away, not with, but from you. To-morrow my Brother departs for Yorkshire, on Horseback as usual, accompanied by your humble Servant in a Chaise. Should nothing material prevent, I shall probably spend great Part of the Summer with him, as he seems to

wish much for my Company; besides, Easy's Appearance there will certainly be an additional Inducement, and we are not without Hopes of seeing Captain Melmoth; at least my Brother designs giving him an Invitation. Somehow or other, I wish he may come down to us. He is such an agreeable convenient Man in the Country, and he is always so ready to ride, or walk, or do just as I please with. Do not imagine from this now; that I have any Thoughts of him in a serious Way, notwithstanding your Recommendation. And yet, if I was obliged to submit to an Husband, I think I might like him well enough, provided that he was not in the Army. But that Circumstance, believe me, would be

an invincible Barrier, supposing all other Matters could be brought about, of which however there is not the least Prospect, and therefore let us drop the Subject.
My Brother returns, you many Thanks for the Honour of your obliging Enquiries, as well as for the Paragraphs relative to his Travels, which you were so kind as to transcribe. What dreadful Fatigues he must have undergone in America, if one half of the Newspaper Accounts are true. As to his being improved by his Expedition, he desires me to tell you that he is infinitely the worse for it I fear, or he would hardly have quitted the Country on Account of his Health; however at all Events I am glad he is returned.—Good God! what Nonsense

have I written! Well, Kitty, since the Discovery is made, I will not erase my Weakness. Interpret me as you please. That I may not however add to my Folly, I beg Leave instantly to subscribe myself
Your most affectionate Maria Rugg.
WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Foxhall,June,
Dear Melmoth,
I AM just at this present Minute in as bad a Humour for Letter-writing, as any private Gentleman need be. You see I confine myself to Privates, for Statesmen and Secretaries methinks should be allowed some greater Degree of Latitude for their Displeasures on this Head, as being more perpetually tormented with it. You'll find by my Date, where my Quarters are. I have been here about a Week, just

Time enough to assist at the Reception of your Brother, who arrived but a Day after me. He was followed on Tuesday last by two maiden Aunts of Sir Thoroughbred's, who live together at York, and were so obliging as to favour Foxhall with their Company 'till this Morning, when they left us, which I believe their ungracious Nephew is not very sorry for. What a Tribe of Aunts he has! Two at York, two at Woodstock; all Virgins; and a fifth at last married and settled in Essex, after having lived in fear of the Apes for above these twenty Years.
I spent an incomparable Evening yesterday, which perhaps you would not have suspected, when you hear who were our Party. It consisted of Miss Rugg, her two Aunts aforesaid,

your Brother, strongly contrasted by Tom Fetlock, (who is now in Possession of the Living) the Baronet and Myself. Sir Thoroughbred having tired himself with Lunging a young Stone-horse in the Morning, suffer'd the Conversation to turn upon general Topics and Newspaper Intelligences, only reserving to himself the Liberty of putting in a Sentence now and then as he thought proper. Having dispatched the common Business of Weather, and remarked, without Reflection, that such a day had been excessive cold, or intensely hot, or wet, or dry, or neither, without any Regard to the Matter of Fact, which indeed was not necessary, as the acquiescing Spirit of the Company entirely agreed in whatever

the first Person advanced, however the Common Sense and Acceptation of Words might suffer by their Politeness; we proceeded to touch a little upon American Matters, and the Behaviour of a late Reverend Criminal at his Execution, Alas, poor Doctor! cried Aunt Dorothy, (who for some Time had been nodding over her Snuff-Box, whilst the Combination of Snivel and Rappee streamed its Chocolate Defluxions down her Handkerchief;) Poor Man! Well, they say he made a fine End! Why, my dear Madam, cried Sir Thoroughbred, yawning, He entered at the Post, didn't he, and I'm told there was a dead Heat. Tho' some indeed pretend that he was smuggled over to France, which I don't believe a Word of. Why

I was there, says Fetlock, (who affects to be a Cock-fighter,) and I never in my Life saw any Man die better Game than he did; aye, and struck to the last. To be sure he wheel'd at first a little, but say what they will, your wheeling Cocks always fight the best Battle. What say you, Thoroughbred? Miss Rugg smiled, the old Ladies sniffed and wiped their Noses, and the Captain relaxing his Features agreeably, took out his Toothpick-case and began playing with the Contents of it.
I have told you that I arrived here about a Week ago, but have not mentioned a Mistake I had nearly fallen into. On getting out of my Chaise, I saw a tall young Fellow standing in the Yard, with

dark Hair cropt short, a narrow-brimm'd Round-Hat bound with black Ferret upon his Head, and his tout Ensemble exactly corresponding with my Ideas of a Groom or a Stable-boy. Not happening to think of Fetlock, I was just meditating a Salutation of "Holla my Lady," to ask his Assistance in bringing in my Luggage, when he turned round, and thereby saved me an Infinity of Confusion and Apologies, which I should otherwise Infallibly have intailed upon myself. His Dress was a light Grey Coat with black Buttons, an outer Waistcoat of green and white striped Cotton, under which, as it was open at the Breast, I could descry at least seven Flannel ones faced with as many Scraps of different coloured

Sattins; a Pair of Fustian Breeches with a Profusion of String at the Kneebands, white thread Stockings, a coloured Silk Handkerchief round his Neck, and an Hook'd-Stick in his Hand.
Having suppressed my intended Exclamation, I accosted him as a Gentleman, and made some feeble Efforts towards entering into an equine Conversation; which however I soon found my utter Incapacity of Supporting, being in less than five Minutes so completely bewildered with a Variety of Cant Phrases and Technical Terms, that I was obliged to change the Subject for one more generally Intelligible. During this Time Sir Thoroughbred was at some Distance in a Field, earnestly examining the Heel of one

of his Hunters, which Fetlock told me was gorged a little; and as he was upon his Hands and Knees with his Hair hanging loose about his Shoulders, he exhibited methought no unapt Representation of King Nebuchadnezzar at Grass, towards the End of his seven Years Metamorphosis. Nor was the Similitude at all diminished by his nearer Approach to us. For
his Dwelling had been with the Beasts of the Field, and his Body was wet with the Dew of Heaven, and his Beard was grown like Eagles Feathers, and his Nails like Birds Claws.

Upon his coming up to us, I received from him an honest, hearty, downright Welcome, exemplified, or rather expressed by a violent Blow

on the Shoulder, and such a Shake by the Hand, as exposed the Oeconomy of my Bones and Cartilages to intolerable Jeopardy, and which indeed nothing but the Extremity of Friendship would have induced me to submit to, as his Paws were by no means exempt from the Nastiness attendant on Farriery. Having, however, survived the Sa••tation without material Injury, we all three adjourned to his Study, as he has thought proper to denominate it. And indeed, upon Reflection, I think he has much Reason on his Side, tho' probably without being sensible of it. Cicero, if you remember, defines Studium, or Study, to be the Attention and Application of the Mind to some one particular Object. And therefore,

tho' the Name of a Study, or Repository for such Things as may assist us in this Pursuit, usually conveys the Idea of a Room particularly devoted to Books and Literature, inasmuch as the Studium of the generality of People tends that Way; yet it is equally applicable to a Room equipp'd in any Manner whatsoever, provided that Manner bears the same Affinity to the Studium of its Possessor. Whether our Friend's did, you shall be your own Judge. The Size of the Room you know is small, with two Windows, a Door and a Fire-place. The literary Part of its Furniture consisted of a pretty considerable Quantity of old Newspapers, Magazines, Racing Calendars, and Lists of Running Horses; which

entirely occupied the Window Seats, and invellop'd the greatest Part of the Floor. On his Table was a Bartlett's Farriery garnished with Spurs, Spur-leathers and a Bootjack; and the Remains of Euclid's Elements without a Cover, which he informed me was going the Way of all its University Companions, being constantly made Use of at his Cloacinean Sacrifices. His Chimney was decorated with Jockey Whips perpendicularly suspended from their Thongs, and every other Part of the Walls seemed loaded with an astonishing Variety of Curbs, Snaffles, Cavessons and Martingals, with five thousand other Instruments of Equestrian Utility, full as curious and entertaining to me, as the Weapons of New Zealand

or Otaheite, or the old Bandoleers and Shot Pouches in the Armoury in the Tower. As it wanted some Hours to Dinner, we agreed that a Bottle of Strong Beer and some Slices of cold Ham would not be unseasonable. These were procured, and dispatched speedily; after which I retired to Dress myself, as did my two Companions to try a young Horse of Fetlock's at the Leaping Bar.
Miss Rugg and your Brother seem to find each other exceedingly agreeable, and if I may presume to prophesy, will not be averse in due Time to a Junction of Forces. The Captain's Method of Attack is not of the most vigorous Nature, but I dare say, is a very sure and judicious One. He seems to entertain

the same Idea of marrying a Wife, that he would of purchasing an House or a Farm. I don't mean Venally; but he seems to consider it as a serious Bargain to be made, which must be abided by, and would therefore choose as thorough an Acquaintance with the Nature of his Purchase as possible. This is all very right I dare say, Charles, but I cannot be so exceeding methodical upon the Occasion. I cannot help admitting a little of the volatilized Spirit of Love into my Composition; whereas he conducts himself with a calm settled Resolution, never suffering any Flames or Darts to enter his Head on the Occasion. Not that I consider myself as a dying Strephon, with Willows and Billows and Pillows to recline on,

nor yet as a hot frantic Firebrand full of Jealousy and Madness, committing Extravagancies one Minute on purpose to beg Pardon for them the next, nor in short any way altered in the usual Tenor of my Behaviour by the Fascination of Female Attractions. At least I hope not, for they say People in Love are blind to the Absurdities of their own Conduct. Pray tell me, therefore, in Friendship, if you discover any Thing in my Letters at all savouring of Bedlam, or whether you should think it necessary to consult Monro or Battie upon the Occasion?

Hei mihi! quod nullis Amor est medicabilis Herbis!
said Apollo, the Head of the College of Physicians, a good many Years ago,

when he was desperately unsuccessful in some Love Affair, and rather despondent and low about it. However, he speaks only of the Vegetable World, so perhaps since the Introduction of Minerals into Medicine, a poor Lover's Case may not be quite so Immedicable. In Expectation of your Opinion on this Head, I remain, my dear Charles.

Yours, sincerely, W. EASY.

Captain MELMOTH to CHARLES MELMOTH, Esq
Foxhall,July
My dear Brother,
IT would perhaps be needless to say any thing about the Heat of the Weather to you, did I not intend to employ it as the Excuse for my epistolary Omissions. Upon m• Honour it has been too intense for these last ten Days to attempt any thing, particularly so laborious a Business as that of Letter-writing. My Hours here pass on very smoothly, calm and unruffled, unless by the occasional Vociferation of my good Baronet, who is eternally abusing me, because I

sometimes read Italian, and avowedly proclaim my Detestation of the Smell of Horse-dung. I guess you have heard how much I am determined upon marrying his Sister. She is a very good Girl, and I think may contribute to make me more comfortable than I am at present. So I have been laying regular Siege to her Heart and Understanding ever since my Arrival, and I believe with considerable Success. Sir Thoroughbred approves of it in his Way as much as I can wish him; I approve of it highly; our Fortunes are sufficient to authorize the Step; and in short nothing is wanted but her Consent absolute, (for I consider her tacit as given already,) and her Uncle's Approbation, to conclude our Treaty. What think you, Charles,

Shall I do well
Ex nitido fieri Rusticus?
To change my Red Coat with Lace for an unornamented Brown one, and without becoming Savage or Grazier, to endeavour at getting my Health in a quiet family Way, and raising Children for the Defence of my Country in future, instead of personally fighting for it at present? I have told you already that my Time passes very smoothly, but I will give you a Description of my daily Labours, and let you judge for yourself. I generally rise about Seven, and stroll into the Garden with my constant Companion Lord Chesterfield. Here we walk for about an Hour, entertaining ourselves with each other's Conversation, and every two or three Turns perhaps stopping to take a View of Sir

Thoroughbred, who is deeply engaged on the other Side of the Hedge in the elegant Occupation of breaking two young Horses for his Phaeton, and haranguing his Friend Fetlock, who attends with a long Whip in his Hand, in all the Mode and Figure of Equestrian Vulgarity. Entre nous, this Fetlock is sometimes a most intolerable Fatigue to me. The Baronet is at least a rational Savage, and will sometimes divert and be entertaining even upon the Subject of his own Oddities; but his Chaplain, or Aid du Camp, is insipid to the most distressing Degree. Sir Thoroughbred often attempts to better my Opinion of him, by informing me, what an honest good-natured Fellow he is, and far be it from me to say otherwise.

It would be cruel to detract from the Merits of a Person who can so very ill afford it, 'twere like robbing a poor Beggar of his Half-penny. But still 'tis hard one must be condemned to suffer his Company. He never commits even a laughable Absurdity, unless by mere Accident. The most ridiculous Anecdote I ever heard concerning him, and that too by the Contrivance of Sir Thoroughbred, was his falling asleep at Foxhall after a Drinking Match on Saturday Afternoon, and continuing in that Situation till the Monday Morning, (I believe it was not above a Week before my Arrival,) when he waked about Eight o'Clock perfectly Sober, dressed himself, breakfasted, took his Horse out of the Stable, and departed

very quietly with his Sermon in his Pocket to officiate at his Parish Church, which is about a Mile distant. Upon his Arrival there however, not finding any Appearance of a Congregation, he rode twice round the Church-yard, kicked stoutly at the Vestry Door, damned his Clerk and Parishioners ••parately and altogether for a Parcel of negligent Heathens, and returned perfectly satisfied that he had at least performed his Duty, and paid a due Reverence to the Sanctity of the Sabbath.

Well, after Breakfast, Charles, I attach myself to Miss Rugg; ride or walk out with her, and Discourse of my Exploits in America,

Of Battles, Sieges, Fortunes,
Of moving Accidents by Flood and Field,
Of hair-breadth 'Scapes i'th' imminent deadly Breach,
and so on, 'till, like another Desdemona, she almost
Loves me for the Dangers I have past,
And I love her that she does Pity them.
For, in Truth, many of them were very worthy of Pity, and such as I will not undergo again whilst the Enemy keep on their own Side the Atlantic. Many Times, Charles, during our Confinement in Boston, have I worn the same Shirt for three Days together; lived invariably upon Rice and Salt Pork, and when at length the Place was evacuated, I was absolutely reduced to my last Pint of Lavender Water. Sometimes these Conversations are broken

in upon by Sir Thoroughbred, who enquires whether we could turn our Horses to Grass there, and how much a Load I supposed our Hay might cost Government. Apropos of Sir Thoroughbred. He always wears his Hat in the House, and has besides an uncivilized Custom of throwing his Legs into the Seat of any Chair that happens to stand near him, if empty; or if occupied, he entangles his Boots and Spurs so effectually with the Bars of it, as to expose the Stockings of his Neighbour to unavoidable Destruction, and his Body to imminent Danger of a Fall. I was sitting next to him yesterday Evening, when he entertained himself in this Manner. Presently I rose from my Chair, in which, as I expected,

his Legs immediately posted themselves. Sir Thoroughbred, said I, that Chair I left for your Hat to lie in; and Apropes de Botes, ringing the Bell, I am now going to give Orders that the gouty Cradle may be brought to support your Legs, which I should think a much properer Place for them. He stared for half a Minute in my Face, damn'd me for an odd Fellow, flung his Hat into the Middle of the Room, called for his Slippers, and begging I would lend him my Pocket-glass, began digging his Jaw-bone with his Horse-picker as composedly as if it had been the Hoof of the Animal it appertained to.

Alas! poor Brute! he is utterly incorrigible I believe! I have several

Times attempted persuading him to keep his Nails within some tolerable Bounds of civilized Longitude; for at present they are entirely in a State of unimproved Nature, full as Extensive and infinitely less Delicate than the Talóns of a Chinese Mandarin; but I have not the Happiness of discovering the least Shadow of Improvement arising from it. Ah Thoroughbred, thou art a well meaning Fellow! But 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, my Dear Baronet, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉!
Adieu, Charles, Yours, George Melmoth.

CHARLES MELMOTH to WILLIAM EASY.
Melmoth Place,July,
My Dear Easy.
I AM sorry to write on a Subject which I doubt not will sensibly afflict you. Our poor Friend Harry is no more! I received a Letter Yesterday from Ned Freeman, who went Abroad with him, informing me of his Decease.
Wearied of Life (says he) before he had well entered into it; with a Temper soured by Reflexion, and a Constitution ruined by Excess, he died unknown and unregarded at Lisbon in the twenty-second Year of his Age. Except Myself and his

Servant there was not a Soul in the Place that he could speak to. We were with him in his last Moments, and, I declare to you that it was with the utmost difficulty I supported myself through the Scene. There is at all Times something inconceivably Awful in that last Agony of convulsed Nature. But in the present Instance it was particularly so. To see him Pale and Emaciated, falling in the Prime of Youth, a Sacrifice to his own Imprudence. To see every Feature distorted, every Nerve striving with its Dissolution, and Nature by her strong repeated Struggles, loudly exclaiming that her Time was not yet come; is a Spectacle too affecting to be looked upon with

Composure. It was near three Hours before he breathed his last, with his Eyes fixed steadfastly on me, and his Hands firmly grasping one of mine. Before you receive this, I shall probably be on my Passage to England, with our poor Friend's Body.

Surely, Easy, this is a Melacholy History! The Inattention of his Guardians, and the certain Prospect of an immense Fortune immediately upon his coming of Age, were the Cause of his Misfortunes. Happy had it been for him, if his Father had lived a few Years longer! It is amazing too how greatly his Manner of Life had altered his Disposition. He had latterly lost all that Mirth, that Ease and Gaiety of Heart which

rendered his Company so universally desireable, and was become peevish and dissatisfied with every thing. I never shall forget what he said to me, as we were sitting together in his Dressing-Room, but a few Weeks before he went Abroad. I think it was the last Conversation we ever had together.
Melmoth (says he) I am Unhappy! I am sick of my Follies, and almost wearied of my Life! I enter into Company without Enjoying it; I frequent public Places, but they are become Indifferent and Irksome to me. Nothing amuses me! I wish I had lived as you have, Melmoth!

To quit a Subject so unpleasant, let me enquire a little into your

Course of Employment at Foxhall. For Instance, how do you spend your Mornings? do you ride, or walk, or sit at Home and read those curious Tracts, which you say Sir Thoroughbred's Study abounds with? I should think, with a little Application under so excellent a Master, you might soon acquire a very competent Stock of Theoretical Horsemanship; I never presume to expect anything considerable from you in the practical Parts. A few Days ago I received Advices from George, giving such satisfactory Accounts of his amatorial Progresses, that I expect every Newspaper to read Particulars of the Marriage. I am heartily glad to find Matters in so fair a Train with him, because I think he will do a

much wiser Thing in marrying an amiable Girl with a good Fortune, than in returning to live upon Salt-Beef and Honour in America. I have a Wife, Easy, and I want to see all my Friends in the same Situation, which believe me is a much more comfortable one than many silly People imagine. With due Compliments to the Inhabitants of Foxhall in general, and that Centaur Sir Thoroughbred in particular, I remain,
Yours ever, Charles Melmoth.

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Foxhall,July,
Dear Melmoth,
YOUR melancholy Account of our Friend's Decease gives me much Concern. Poor Harry, I am sincerely sorry for him! Not that he is Dead, for I do not think Death a Thing to be lamented; nor yet that he died in the Prime of Life. 'Tis not his End, but the Causes and Manner of it, the unhappy Course of Dissipation which occasioned it, and the Stain that may throw upon a Character in itself truly amiable, which I grieve for. But I will not trouble you with a

Detail of Reflexions on this Head, as I have thrown them into a few elegiac Stanzas to disbuthen my Mind a little of a Subject which I could not help dwelling upon. These I send to you in Confidence: So far however from wishing (tho' I have disposed them in the Manner of an Epitaph) that they should be inscribed on his Monument, that I even would not choose they should be seen by any Person except those few Friends who can drop a Tear of Pity when they chance to think of his Failings, but will always honour his Memory for the Goodness and Excellence of his Heart.

In Memoriam Infelicis Juvenis.
Here sleeps, a Martyr to illicit Love,
The Breast that once each nobler Feeling fir'd;
The Mind that Virtue's Self might well approve,
Had Prudence check'd what amorous Youth inspir'd.
Pure were his Thoughts, and innocent his Joys!
But early Wealth seduc'd his easy Soul!
Soft Scenes of Pleasure seem'd to court his Choice,
And Youth and Nature sicken'd at Controul.
Each varied Luxury of Sense was there,
That Art could form, or Fancy's Pow'rs design;
Fair laugh'd the Feast, with mirthful Freedom fair,
And Beauty crown'd th' imperfect Joys of Wine.
Alas! How soon th' illusive Pageant Flies!
Dark Clouds of Death obscure his dawning Day!
In a strange Land, unknown, unwept, he Lies;
A dreadful Warning to the Young and Gay.
Unknown! Unwept! Save where the secret Tear
Steals in sad Silence from the Muse's Eyes,
Lest wrinkled Age, injuriously severe,
Should wrong his Follies with the Name of Vice.

But ye! Wild Partners of my hapless Friend!
Pass not unheedful by this sacred Stone!
And when your heaving Breasts would mourn his End,
Mourn for his Frailties, and correct your own.
Adieu, my poor inconsiderate Friend!
The earth that Bears Thee dead,
Bears not alive so brave a Gentleman.
Adieu, and take thy Praise with thee to Heav'n;
Thy Ignominy sleep with thee in the Grave,
But not remember'd in thy Epitaph.
And now Melmoth, let me Answer your Questions concerning Myself and my Amusements. In the first Place then, all my odd Half-Hours, which are a good many, are devoted to the Study of Tooke's Pantheon, and the Nomina Propria in Ainsworth's Dictionary. Can you conceive any thing more

edifying? But I read them to refresh my Memory, and prepare myself more fully for an heathenish Stile of Conversation with Pedant, if he should happen to spend the Summer with us at Hartley's. The Books lie upon the Floor in Sir Thoroughbred's Study, from whence Drafts are made occasionally to be employed in the same Services as his Euclid's Elements; and indeed I find their Pages suffer such considerable Decrease, that I am obliged to Study very vigorously, in order to keep up with him in his Consumption. Then I sometimes ride after Breakfast, but "Soberly," as Lady Grace says; Not in the frantic whip and cut Stile of a Nimrod, nor with the more dignified Pomposity of the Manege, like a King

William the Third in old Tapestry. And then if any Log, or broken Hurdle, or Furze-bush should sprout up in my Way, I never risk the whole Army at once, but pass it in two Divisions. Videlicet, myself first, as being of the greatest Consequence, and afterwards my Cavalry. Or sometimes if the Passage should be very much obstructed, I place my Horse in the Van, as Pioneer or Forlorn Hope, and bring up myself as the sustaining Party. You know which he is. Sir Thoroughbred's old Grey Poney. I can tell you we are very great Friends. Age and Experience have cooled down all the little Tricks and Vanities which more youthful Quadrupeds are subject to, and as each pays the most punctilious Regard to

his own particular Safety, we are excessively cautious of Hazarding anything that might break the Bond of Union between us. I fear, however, we shall be under the Necessity of Parting in a Day or two, as my Time of Furlow is nearly elapsed, and old Hartley will begin to be impatient for the Execution of his University Plans. Vale Charles, believe me,
Yours, W. EASY.

Miss HARTLEY to Miss RUGG.
Hill-Street,July,
WELL my cunning reserved little Madam, I have heard of all your Coquetries to ensnare the poor Melmoth, though you have not thought fit to write to me since his Arrival amongst you. Indeed, I think you might have found some spare half Hour to scribble in, and acquaint me a little how Matters went on; especially, as you had declared your Intentions with such a pretty blushing Bashfulness in your last Letter. Upon my Honour, you deserve to be plagued a little.
Should nothing Material prevent, I shall probably spend great Part

of the Summer with my Brother, as he seems to wish much for my Company.

How very pretty and sisterlike that was of you, wasn't't it? But then,
We are not without Hopes of seeing Captain Melmoth.
How that comes stealing in, as if it thought to escape unobserved. And presently it is,
Somehow or other, I wish he may come down to us.
How we have changed by Degrees, from the Plural to the Singular! And then in the next Sentence,
He is such an agreeable Man, and so ready to do as I please with.

O you little Gipsey! They may talk as they please, but I'll be hanged if one such little Puritan as yourself won't cost a Lover more

Pains and Attendance, and give him more Plague, aye, and play him more Tricks too, than half a Dozen of us mad-headed ones. And then to put yourself to the Trouble of telling a naughty Story and denying it, and afterwards running into the love-sick Strain so artfully, as if you had forgot that you were writing about your Brother.
Indeed I must in Charity believe, that you did it all on Purpose, or I shall never have any Mercy on you. But you should really have written to me. For my Part, I have nothing but Scribbling to amuse me at present. Easy (as you may guess by the Time of his leaving Foxhall,) came here but Tuesday, and this Morning he was packed up in a Post-chaise with my Father,

and transported to Oxford in pursuit of my Spouse and Tutor elect. Poor Fellow, I dare say he could have found a Better, without the Expense of Travelling in search of him. However, he is gone, and his poor disconsolate Kitty has no other Business but to
Wake and Weep,
and read Novels by Lamplight all Night, and to write Letters and accompany despairing Ditties with her Piano Forte all Day. However, I made him swear eternal Fidelity, and so forth, in the true Stile of Chivalry, before his Departure to that Country of Necromancers and Inchanters, whom he promises to destroy and spare not, unless they acknowledge the incomparable Princess he worships, to be the very Flower and Paragon

of Perfection: nay, he farther engages, that he will make them appear, in due Form, as Slaves before my Footstool, saying,
I am the profound Metaphysician and Logician Puzzlearius, Governor of the College of A. B. who being vanquished by the superior Valour and Arguments, &c. &c.

I fancy he will find this Task rather difficult, for by the Specimen I have seen, I believe the odd Things would rather forfeit all Pretensions to Chivalry and every Thing else, than endure the Terror of passing five Minutes in a Woman's Company, in which Time at farthest they must have emptied their whole Budget of Conversation. To speak seriously though, I have no Idea of Pedant's being prevailed upon

to return with them, by any Arguments whatsoever. If he should not, my Father's Plan of Operations for the present at least, will be entirely deranged, and before he can form any new Ones, Easy is to chop Logic, quote Greek, bring him into a good Humour after Dinner, and then, having recounted his numerous Services and unparallel'd Disinterestedness, ask my Hand of him in Form. If on the Contrary, the Pedantic Animal's Avarice, or some other strange Infatuation, should prompt him to hazard a long Vacation in Dorsetshire; why, he will be a delightful Subject to exercise one's ill Humours upon, and after having stayed there 'till every Idea has been ridiculed out of him, he may return Home to be the laughing

Stock of his Fellow Savages, and leave Easy in peaceable Possession of the Victory and the Prize; for I don't doubt my Father's Goodness, if we can but once drive this nonsensical Chimera out of his Head.
Oh, I must tell you now tho' whilst I think of it, what a Sacrifice Easy has made at my Shrine, and what Incense he has been offering to that dear favourite Foible of ours, Vanity. He begged indeed, an assuming Fellow! That I would not communicate them to any body, but we Women you know never can conceal these Matters from each other; tho' I really do not think you deserve them, after the sly Stile of Secrecy, which you would have adopted towards me, if your

Pen would have suffer'd you. However, if you will beg Pardon, and be a good Girl, I'll not keep you any longer in Suspence. They are two languishing Epistles, the Produce of an unalterable Passion which he sustained in his younger Days, for a Lady whom he calls Delia, and to whom he is distantly related.
As Delia's Papa and Mama lived entirely in the Country, the young People had not met since they were Children, and Colin's Parents, (for so he calls himself) having no very good Opinion of Miss Delia, had often described her to him in a Manner not the most favourable. One Summer, however, they resolved to pay old Mr. Delia a Month's or six Weeks Visit; and it

being Vacation Time with young Mr. Colin, who was then of the University, he of course accompanied them. And then it was, that the superlative Excellence and Goodness of Miss Delia struck him through the Liver! Poor Man, he was in a sad Way about it: for Miss Delia, tho' she treated him very kindly, was unluckily engaged already to a Man of very considerable Fortune; and when, after some Time, he attempted to prefer his Suit, she revealed to him the State of the Case, and showed him one or two Letters from her other Lover, Mr. Corydon, which entirely drove poor Colin to Desperation. Then, it fortunately happened, that instead of hanging or drowning himself, as a downright ignorant

Fellow would have done in similar Circumstances; Poetry came to his Aid, and he presented her with the first Epistle.
Soon▪ afterwards she became Mrs. Corydon, and within a Month more the inexorable Parcae cut down her Husband. Upon this, not having Leisure to Versify, lest any other Claimant would step in before him, he had nothing for it but to administer Comfort as early as possible in plain Prose, and endeavour to bring himself upon the Tapis again. She however, is utterly Inconsolable, and after having got the Funeral over and taken a little time for Consideration, absolutely determines upon a perpetual Retirement and Seclusion from the World in General. This you may imagine,

produces a second Piece of Poetry from her Inamorato, longer than the first; wherein, after having said a great many fine Things, and attack'd her with a Profusion of Morality and Sentiment, he considers himself as bound in common Politeness to imitate her illustrious Example, pitches upon a very pretty Cave for the Place of his Retirement, and resolves to surrender his Body to Tears and Meditations whilst living, and to Flesh-flies and Jack-daws after he is dead, without Benefit of Clergy or Christian Burial. In consequence of these pious Determinations on both Sides, she is married within a Twelvemonth to a Man old enough to be her Grandfather, but with a very large Fortune; and he, having amused

himself for several Years amongst the Groves and Solitude of the Temple Gardens, is at present — just as I would have him be.
I have enclosed the two Pieces of Poetry which he gave me, the Prose I was only suffer'd to read before he burnt them.
Adieu, my dear Rugg, Believe me your very affectionate, CATHARINE HARTLEY.

COLIN to DELIA, On her approaching Marriage with CORYDON.
READ, or O say! have present Joys effac'd
Each Thought, each fond Remembrance of the past?
Can that blessed Rival censure one sad Sigh,
One transient Tear to me and Misery?
Read; nor with cold Severity reprove
Th' unconquer'd Struggles of distracted Love:
Grant one last Look of Comfort to my Grief,
One sympathetic Strain of sad Relief;
Then all my Woes in dark Oblivion drown,
And yield thy Soul to Bliss and Corydon.
Curst be the Hour!—No—be it ever blessed,
When first thy Beauty struck my'astonish'd Breast.
The wild Luxuriance of thine auburn Hair,
Thy Mien majestic, Face divinely fair,
Seem'd like th' ideal Phantom of a Dream:
I saw, I wonder'd, but could not esteem.
Vile Prejudice with bigotted Controul
Check'd every nobler Feeling of my Soul:

Still in my Ear base Slander whisper'd Lies,
Beheld Vivacity, and nam'd it Vice;
Did any dare applaud your Wit or Sense,
'Twas sneering Satire all and Impudence.—
Gods, how I err'd! could I thus grossly Sin,
Or think so fair a Form so foul within!
Thus think of her, whose Virtues now I see,
And Honour almost to Idolatry!
Yet how sincerely I bewail'd my Crimes,
And cursed th' unfeeling Malice of the Times,
Curst my weak Heart, that could so soon believe
Such Excellence was made but to deceive;
Bear witness Heav'n! and thou, fair Maid, forgive!
For whom alone I can endure to live;
Forgive this Error, 'tis my last Request;
Then welcome Solitude, my Mind's at rest.
Scarce had three Suns their daily Circuit ran,
And the fourth Morn reveal'd its Light to Man,
When with full Radiance on my dazzled Sense
Beam'd forth the Wonders of your Excellence.
There, veil'd in all the Sprightliness of Youth,
Sat meek-eyed Modesty and honest Truth;
There calm Religion reign'd with sweet Controul;
The Sanctity of Thought and Snow of Soul
Their heav'n descended Influence there combin'd,
To prove thy Face less beauteous than thy Mind.

Slander beheld, and shudd'ring with Affright,
Plung'd headlong 'midst the Shades of endless Night.
Ah me! whilst yet I breath my mournful Strain,
Fresh Woes arise, and aggravate my Pain.
Fix'd in my tortur'd Mind's distracted Waste
Sits Memory, 'tween the present and the past
Forming dire Parallels: how erst among
The shadowing Grove's dark gloom we rov'd along;
Then, whilst my Soul dissolv'd in amorous Bliss,
Plann'd idle Schemes of endless Happiness;
Thy Voice, soft soothing, flatter'd my Desire,
Rouz'd every Sense, and fill'd my Breast with Fire.
Thus rapt in Extacy my Moments past,
Ah! Extacy too wonderful to last!
When one cursed Hour, one blasting Stroke of Fate,
Down hurl'd me from my Pinnacle of State;
Snatch'd every vain ideal Hope of Bliss,
And whelm'd me deep in Woe's extreme Abyss.
Unfeeling Maid! by such harsh Means to prove
The boundless Influence of Almighty Love!
Had those sad Papers been at first reveal'd,
Or ever from my cheated Sight conceal'd;
One last Farewell, one heart-breaking Adieu,
Had torn my struggling Soul from Love and you:
Or still of happy Ignorance possest,
I had enjoy'd a visionary Rest;

Till shudd'ring with Astonishment and Fear,
Loud nuptial Hymns had pierc'd my'affrighted Ear;
And, as with Lightning blasted, my strange Doom
Had sunk me deep, deep in the Grave's dark Womb.
Think not I seek to interrupt your Joys,
Upbraid your Conduct, or condemn your Choice:
My Happy Rival boasts far nobler Birth,
Vows earlier plighted, and superior Worth;
Propitious Fortune bless'd his Natal Hour,
And Plutus hail'd him in a golden Show'r;
Ten thousand Heifers o'er his Pastures rove:—
My only Wealth was Competence and Love!
No—Could you, pitying as these Lines you see,
Bid me still live to Happiness and Thee;
Could you for me, unmindful of your Vows,
Burst from th' Embraces of your promise'd Spouse;
For me, in some lone Cot consent to dwell,
And bid your Country and your Friends farewell:
Wretch tho' I am, the Prize I'd still forego,
Nor wish such Joys, e'en to my deadliest Foe.
Live, long and happy! nor disturb your Bliss,
With one sad Thought of Colin's Wretchedness:
Or should soft Pity prompt you still to bear
The Memory of a Youth you once held dear;
Still grant me your Esteem, since Love must end,
And tho' the Wife be lost, remain the Friend.

COLIN to DELIA, On the Death of CORYDON. Written at the University.
IF, from these gloomy Walls, these antique Tow'rs,
Where meagre Study wastes the midnight Hours;
Where Pedant Learning sits severe, nor knows
The Anguish of an hopeless Lover's Woes;
Yet Delia, yet again 'tis giv'n to mourn,
Vent all my Griefs, nor be receive'd with scorn▪
Accept these heart-felt Strains: nor fear to join
The bitter Sorrows of thy Cup with mine.
Mix Tear with Tear, heave flow th' alternate Sigh;
We may at least unite in Misery.
This Step nor Friends, nor Fortune Disallows;
Nor the pale Phantom of thy shrouded Spouse.
O Corydon! in Life's aspiring bloo•
Snatch'd from a Bride's Embraces to the Tomb!
Methinks I see thy lingering Spirit fly,
And scarce quit her for Heav'n without a Sigh;
Methinks I see thee 'midst th' Angelic Choir,
Strike the soft Warblings of thy pensive Lyre,
With listless Eye th' Aetherial Mansions range,
Look sadly down, and half regret the Change▪

Rest, virtuous Youth, supremely blessed in Heav'n!
Nor scorn this Tribute by a Rival giv'n:
No storied Urn, no funeral Dirge you need,
Vain empty Off'rings to the senseless Dead!
Silent be Fame, and hush'd be every Voice,
Your Worth stands blazon'd by your Delia's Choice.
Nor thou, fair Maid, esteem it feign'd, that here
I breath sad Strains of Sorrow o'er his Bier:
To see thee blessed was all my Wish below,
The first best Gift God's Bounty could bestow;
Those Dreams are fled, so cruel Fate decreed,
And a long Train of thickening Ills succeed:
Rest of your Lord, no second you approve,
But shrine your Soul in monumental Love.
By the pale Tapers dimly glimm'ring Light
Count the long Moments of the tedious Night,
Or with slow Step, majestically sad,
Seek the damp Aisle where his cold Corse is laid,
Invoke his Shade to prove your Vow sincere,
And bid the World farewell without a Tear.
And canst thou, Delia, canst thou waste thy Bloom
In some dark solitudes sequester'd Gloom?
Canst thou forget the Honours of thy Race?
Say, canst thou yield that fair, that faultless Face
A Prey to Grief, a voluntary Slave;
So sweet a Flower to wither o'er a Grave?—

No—yet again in this World's Pleasures join,
Again in all thy fatal Beauty shine;
In social Mirth Life's transient Hours employ,
Nor sour'd by Grief, nor mad with thoughtless joy:
On Reason's Rules let every Action move:
What she prescribes, Religion must approve.
Let peevish Dotards bid the World adieu,
And censure Joys they can no more pursue;
Let Avarice barter Soul and Body's Health
To roll in Piles of solitary Wealth;
Let Superstition, big with righteous Pride,
Pard'ning herself, damn all the World beside;
With pious Rancour 'gainst Mankind inveigh,
And thank her God she is not made as they;
Condemn the Blessings by his Mercy giv'n
To smooth this mortal Pilgrimage to Heav'n:
'Tis thine to spend thy little Hour on Earth
In social Comforts and becoming Mirth;
Catch the World's guiltless Pleasures as they fly,
Thankful to live, yet not afraid to die;
Breath the soft Air of resignation's Gale:
Thus speaks thy Friend, and let his Voice prevail.
And is that all? must my Fierce Passions bend
To the cold Names of Monitor and Friend?
Can those weak, formal, empty Titles, prove
To what Excess of Misery I love?
Ah, fond, aspiring, interested Youth,
In vain you preach up Righteousness and Truth;

In vain with pious Fraud yourself deceive,
And teach your willing Senses to believe;
Pretend 'tis pure Religion's Flame you feel,
And grace your Passion with the Name of Zeal▪
Nor Grace, nor Zeal, Love only Fires your Lays,
'Tis the Heart dictates, and the Hand obeys.
Come then, in all thy Pride of Beauty, come;
Pronounce my Sentence, stamp my final Doom!
Come!—Let me clasp thee in my'enraptur'd Arms,
Drink in thy matchless Luxury of Charms;
With quivering Lips, caressing and carest,
Rouse the tumultuous Heavings of thy Breast;
Then, lost in Love, and sick'ning with Desire,
Sunk on thy Neck, triumphantly Expire.
Alas! how wildly do my Senses rove!
Yet who can hope consistency in Love!—
Is this the Preacher? will my Delia cry,
Is this the Youth of wondrous Piety?
The Friend, who late with righteous Fervor glow'd,
And bade me learn Submission to my God?
Taught me his Bounties were not giv'n in vain,
To be neglected by despondent Man?
And would he now my Peace of Mind destroy
'Midst the rude Transports of illicit Joy?
Mar the fair Prospects of my future Life,
And bid me stoop to be a Beggar's Wife?

O rare Humility! best Gift of Heav'n!
Sure Means for all my Sins to be forgiv'n!
Cease, Delia, cease; nor with too hasty Tongue
Condemn the Wretch who never wish'd you wrong.
O were the fierce conflicting Struggles known,
'Twixt Grace and Love, your Welfare and my own;
Could you but feel what Seas of Passion roll,
And pang with boist'rous Rage my tortur'd Soul;
Your gentle Heart would pity not reprove
The hapless Youth whose only Crime was Love.
Farewell!—from every Hope of Comfort driv'n,
I here devote my future Hours to Heav'n!
Far from the Noise and busy Hum of Men,
My Soul hath form'd a melancholy Scene:
An unfrequented Cave, mossy and old:
There, save the Tinklings of some distant Fold;
Or some small Brook, high over-grown with Reeds,
That Bubbling, winds its Waters 'mongst the Weeds;
Silence shall reign.—No Trace of Man intrude
Upon the still sequester'd Solitude;
Unless some hapless Wretch's Skeleton,
Who long Time since, like me, by Love undone,
Sought that sad Place out to despair and die.
There, mixed with his, my scatter'd Bones shall lie;

There, mixed with his, in dark Oblivion rot,
Alike unwept, unhonour'd, and forgot!
Or should strange Chance some wand'ring Shepherds lead
To these lone Mansions of th' unburied Dead;
Shaking their pensive Heads, they'll drop a Tear
Of generous Pity on our moss-grown Bier;
Then sighing, say, as the sad Tale they tell,
Alas! These "Lov'd, not wisely, but too well."

Mr. HARTLEY to Sir ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.
Hill-Street,July.
My dear Sir Anthony,
I AM so overjoy'd! I am the happiest Man alive! All my Schemes have succeeded, and I have been down to Oxford, and have brought up Mr. Pedant with me, and we are as happy and as learned as the Day is long, and we are all going down to Dorsetshire in a Day or two. And now, my old Friend, since every thing has turned out so prosperously, I will let you into the Secret which I talked of in my former Letters, and inform you who

has been my Confidant and Assistant in managing this Business. I say, since every thing has turned out so prosperously: for else you know as well as I can tell you, that, "Least said is soonest mended," and,
Bad News always comes fast enough.
and the like. His Name is William Easy, a young Man about seven or eight and twenty. His Father and I were old Schoolfellows and Cronies at Hackney together. Poor old Easy, he used to be sadly troubled with the Gout latterly like myself, and went to Bath once or twice in a Year, constantly. And would you believe it, the young Fellow, his Son, found me out when I was there last, before I visited Staples you know; aye and came to Breakfast with me too,

and was as glad to see me, the young Rogue was, as if I had been of his own Age. Let them say what they will of the Vices and Follies of the present Race of young Men, I am glad to find they are not all so corrupt. And he is clever too in the Bargain, and has read a good Deal, and has seen a good Deal of the World too, I dare say, which is no harm, when it does not interfere with a Man's Learning. Now what Person do you think could be so proper to assist in managing this Business of a Husband for Kitty, as he was. For his Manner of Introducing himself at first to me, showed how disinterested he was, and that he came to see me purely because I was so well acquainted with his poor old Father,

and what a Regard he had for me upon that Account. So I communicated all my Intentions to him, and he approved of them highly, and accompanied me in my Journey to Oxford, and talked to me about the Prometheus of Aeschylus and Aristotle's Treatise upon Rhetoric, by the Hour together as we went along. And I have engaged him to come down with me to Dorsetshire, to complete the Affair. So Mr. Pedant and myself, (I wanted to have persuaded Mr. Pedant to have gone down in the same Carriage with my Daughter, by way of making a Beginning you know, but he chose rather to go with me.) So Mr. Pedant and myself will travel in my Chariot and four, and I must make an Apology to Easy

about going in an hired Chaise with my Daughter, and they can keep on before, and prepare Things at the Inns for us. Do write to me soon, and tell me what your Opinion is of all this, and believe me to be,

Your most faithful Friend, Christopher Hartley.

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Dorsetshire,August,
Dear Charles,
THAT I have for this Week past intended epistolizing Melmoth Place, is as certain as that I have omitted doing it, and you perhaps would now have been as well satisfied, with good-naturedly taking the Will for the Deed, and compounding for my not writing at all. However, since the Pen is put to Paper, you shall have no Reason to complain of my Brevity in Correspondence, be your Passion for Letter-reading ever so excessive. It is now about three Weeks since

I made my Escape from Oxford, from whence, in Conjunction with old Hartley, I have effected the Peregrination of Pedant to this western World: A Piece of Success as far beyond my Expectation as my Wishes. Indeed, I had not the smallest Idea that any thing could have induced him to such a desperate Undertaking, and should have been full as well pleased, had he been inexorable to our Intreaties; for by the frequent Consultations he has held with the old Gentleman for these last three or four Days, and some other little Incidents, I suspect there is more in the Wind than I am aware of. However, as I don't feel myself disposed to stand greatly in Awe of their Intentions, whatever they may be, I

shall drop him for the present, and commence the Journal, or History of our University Expedition.
About the Middle of July then, within two Days after my Return from Foxhall to Hill-Street, I was put on board a Post-chaise with old Hartley about eight o'Clock in the Morning, and about Four in the Afternoon found myself, with my Companion, at the Cross Inn, Oxford. As it happened to be during the Time of the Public Act, the Town was tolerably crowded. So having deposited our Baggage in the best Room we could meet with, we procured proper Directions to Mr. Pedant's Chambers, and immediately sallied out in Pursuit of them. Many and curious were the Figures we encountered

in our Way, and of all Sizes and Dimensions. Several of them I remember'd as my Contemporaries, with whom, in those Days, I had been very well acquainted. But the Devil, or my evil Genius, or some strange Circumstance that I was not apprised of, had so transformed and disfigured me since that Time, that not a Man of them could I prevail upon to remain within Gun-shot of me. If I ran, hollow'd, or called them by their Names, it served but to increase their Velocity in Retreating. They scudded up their Stair-cases like black Rabbits in a Warren; and I believe it was near ten Minutes before I could procure any Creature to assist me with farther Instructions towards the Discovery of

Pedant's Residence. At last, I had the good Fortune to meet Tom Frankley, your Neighbour Harborough's Nephew, who is a Gentleman Commoner of the same College. He conducted us immediately to the Object of our Pursuit, and begg'd, if I was not already engaged, I would call in the Evening and sup with him, and bring old Hartley with me. I told him that I feared Supper would not be in my Power, but that I would certainly call upon him about Eight o'Clock, though I could not promise farther, So we parted, and Mr. Hartley and myself proceeded up the Stair-case towards the Door of Pedant's Apartment. Unluckily it happened, that not thinking of the still Caution necessary in an

Attack of this Sort, we advanced carelessly, talking as our Van-guard approached the Outworks, and thereby effectually excluded ourselves from all possibility of entering. For just as we turned round the last Landing-place, the Vigilance of the Enemy was alarmed, the outer Door shut with a thunder Clap, and all within was silent. You may imagine that after this, all the Knocking and Noise we could make, would be of very little Service; so we were obliged to content ourselves for the present with the Supposition that he probably was busied, as old Hartley said, in some metaphysical Investigation; but that he would go there by himself in the Evening, and attempt him a second Time by

Surprise. This Plan of Proceeding I entirely applauded, as it released me from all the purgatorial Discipline of such a Service, and gave me the better Opportunity of Supping with Frankley, whose Conversation, tho' less abstruse, would probably be more entertaining. So having drank our Tea together quietly at the Coffee-house, I left my Companion planning the Mode of his Attack over a Newspaper, and went immediately to fulfil my Engagement. And most excellently entertained I was, both with the Behaviour and Conversation of my Company. So much so, that without any Apology, I shall send you a minute Detail of the whole Business, which, if you find yourself too stupid or lazy to read with due

Attention, I desire you will forthwith send back to me again, with all proper Thanks and Acknowledgements, Carriage paid.
Well, to Frankley's I went then, sat down, and having got thro' the first necessary Business of Speechifying and Enquiries, was just verging towards a Discourse upon University Matters in general; when, on a sudden, (preceded however by an infinite Variety of Tallios, Hoicks's, hark to Venoms, Vipers, Vixens, Vermins, which we perceived gradually increasing from the opposite Side of the Quadrangle,) the Door flew open, and in rushed a Party of Gentlemen, who, it seems, from their particular Attachment to that Species of Cur, as well as from the exact Similarity of their Noises,

are called the Terriers. At the Head of this extraordinary Troop was a Mr. Jack Solecism, who first discover'd his Capability of Articulation by a "Damn that villainous Rascal Euclid to * * * * *, I wish the Fellow * * * * * * * *, and whatever else is usual on such Occasions.
This curious Exclamation, which having lasted for some Minutes, terminated but with the Breath of the Utterer, was accompanied by a loud Amen in Chorus from the Rest of the Company. Presently several of them snatched Chairs, and threw themselves into them for the Benefit of Conversation. Well Frankley, says Solecism to my Friend, after all, this College is a damn'd Place.

Here am I now, a Fellow allowedly clever, preposterously so; now and then a little Drunk to be sure: why they puzzle and torture me at their Examinations worse than a rich Criminal in an Inquisition. Strike me sober, if I know whether their Examinations are most like an Inquisition or a Bullbait. And the Rascals are true bred Dogs too, every one of them; they run all at the Head; 'till a Man's Brain becomes as confused as a Bankrupt's Account Books. However, I keep my Head up, and then they can't pin me.
An old Lord of the Council rated me the other Day in the Street, but I marked him not, and yet he talked very wisely, and in the Street too.
But I regarded him not. I am unhurt in

the midst of them, like Daniel in the Den of Lions. Aye, or in the fiery Furnace, cried another, at the same Instant catching his Chair from under him with a Velocity that tilted him Head-foremost into the Grate. O damn the Expense of a fiery Furnace, cried a Third, Expense is nothing, Trouble's all, bellowed a Fourth. Back him up, fan him, spilt, dish'd, all abroad, wound up, sha'n't be bad, not of the two, a few or so, all abroad, abroad, abro—ad. Here Articulation ended, and was succeeded by their former Canine Conversation, with which they quitted, or, to use their own Expression, dangled out of the Room.

As soon as they were gone, Frankley began entering into some

Sort of Dissertation on the Characters of these Incomprehensibles; explained to me their Stile of Life, their Amusements, the Rules of their Club, with many other Articles infinitely curious and entertaining. Jack Solecism, says he, is a Fellow of very excellent Abilities, but very rarely sober enough to employ them properly; or to adopt his own Words, is
Allowedly Clever, preposterously so,
but,
Now and then a little Drunk to be sure.
He is not at present a Member of the Terrier Society, but has a very fair Prospect of being speedily admitted, as he excels particularly in the Indian War Whoop, and is allowed by several Sea-Captains who are good Judges, to approach nearer the true Sound

than any European they had ever conversed with.

I hope, continued he, that you find yourself pleased with the Company of these good Folks, as the greater Part infallibly design doing themselves the Honour of Supping with me, and it is an absolute Impossibility to put them off, or prevent them. So you see what you are to expect. In reply to this, I could only say that it was the very Thing which I was most desirous of, provided that he could insure my Carcase from all practical Wit and manual Pleasantry, which I acknowledged myself too stupid to enter into the Spirit of, and consequently to have any particular Taste for. This he undertook to answer for, provided I on the other Hand would do my

Part, by retiring in Case of particular and extraordinary, Combustion, to which Article I with equal readiness assented. So Matters being stipulated between us, we stretched ourselves upon a Sopha, and with the Assistance of Sleep and Chit-Chat, murdered our Interval of Time very handsomely; and by and by, after having enjoyed I believe about an Hour's respite, our Friends the Terriers returned, with Jack Solecism the first Fiddle as usual. As he was still very tolerably drunk, and the Fumes of the Liquor remained in absolute Possession of his Capital, we had hardly eaten three Mouthfulls, (I forgot to tell you we were at Supper) when he was upon his Legs, declaiming with all the Energy of Diction, and

before we had well finished our Meal, entered with an Oration so gloriously absurd and ridiculous, that I could not help committing it to Paper as soon as I quitted them, and now send it to you with absolute Injunctions to be diverted, as you value my Friendship, or regard the Trouble I shall be subjected to, both in transcribing that and relating the Consequences which attended it.
Gentlemen, said he, (and as he spoke he hiccup'd, and drank two Bumpers of Punch to assist his Articulation) I think Gentlemen, when I had last the Happiness of Addressing you in this House, when as I remember, you did me the Honour of increasing and enforcing my Comparisons by absolute Contact

with the Fender, the Marks whereof my Forehead retains with a grateful Sense of their Utility unto this Hour: I think, I say, I was then giving it as my Opinion that this College was a damn'd Place, that is in other Words, for I mean not to swear absolutely, a Place to be condemned utterly; and now my present Purpose is to make good my Assertions by a little incontrovertible Ratiocination.
Now the seniors or graduate Members of a College may, I think, be divided into three Species or Classes. The first and best, and who as being best should consequently be first mentioned, had they no other Pretensions to Priority; are those few fine old Fellows, who being naturally and originally the

Children of Dulness, have chose to enjoy their Birth-right unimpaired, uninterrupted, uncontaminated by Science, and in consequence have vegetated in the Spot Providence first planted them, without impertinent Interference or Prying into the Conduct and Behaviour of their Betters. Peace be to all such Men! To their great Grizzle Wigs and Apathy I bow with Reverence. The Honorable Gentlemen may call them stupid. I adore them for their Stupidity! 'Tis perhaps a pleasant, it is certainly an innocent Amusement, It offends nobody. Were they as stupid as many of them are corpulent, which I allow cannot easily be the Case; as stupid as a Sot before Dinner, or an Alderman after it; I pay them the

greater Reverence therefore. But perhaps the Honorable Gentlemen may object to their Corpulence? To their globose Rotundity of Paunch? I would ask the Honorable Gentlemen, whether they are the Contractors for Victualling it? Do they provide Covering for its Convexity? Is not the Owner at the sole Expense of continuing it in its usual State of Dilation? Is not he at the sole Expense of covering its Nakedness, which unless covered would doubtless be unseemly, with an extravagant Profusion of Broad-cloth? Is not that Broad-cloth black too? A Colour, (if indeed Black may be considered as a Colour, which however my Philosophy has not yet determined upon,) notoriously Expensive from the Rottenness

of its Die. At least was it not Black originally, tho' now perhaps its Tint may be more venerably assimilated to the verd antique Marble of Italy. But enough of these, Gentlemen; let us now turn our Attention to my second Species of Existences: To a Set of Men originally endued with Abilities, with Abilities destroyed and obnubilated by Residence and Application. Does any one start at my Assertion? The Honorable Gentlemen are not to be taught I hope, that Application is the Bane and Destruction of Abilities. The human Mind, Gentlemen, pardon the Comparison, is like a Leg of Mutton. The Meat is fine, but requires Roasting to make it eatable. We place it before the Fire then,

and it is suffer'd, according to its Size, to continue there for a longer or shorter Period. We resume it: and upon cutting it, we find the natural Gravy remains there, but matured and meliorated by Concoction. So far it has been in a State of Improvement. It is then at its Point Tropical, its Solstice, its Zenith of Perfection. But would any Cook in Christendom replace it there in Expectation of farther Advantages? Would she not know that any farther Torrefaction must be prejudicial? That the natural Gravy would from that Time decrease and evaporate gradually? A Gravy, Gentlemen, not to be supplied by all the adscititious Sauces of the most ingenious Artificer. I presume no Gentleman

needs my Information that Learning is an elegant Accomplishment. So is Snuff-taking. That the one strengthens the Ideas and clears the Head of its Votary. So does the other. But in either Case how dangerous are Excesses! In the one it degenerates into Pedantry; In the other to Bestiality and Nastiness. I will conclude my Remarks on this Species, with their Character, as drawn by a late elegant Satyrist.
Fellows! who've soak'd away their Knowledge,
In sleepy Residence at College;
Whose Lives are like a stagnant Pool,
Muddy and placid, dull and cool;
Mere drinking, eating; eating, drinking;
With no Impertinence of Thinking;
Who lack no farther Erudition,
Than just to set an Imposition
To cramp, demolish and dispirit,
Each true-begotten Child of Merit;
Censors, who in the Day's broad Light,
Punish the Vice they act at Night;

Whose Charity with self begins,
Nor covers others venial Sins;
But that their Feet may safely tread,
Take up Hypocrisy instead,
As knowing that must always hide,
A Multitude of Sins beside;
Whose rusty Wit is at a stand,
Without a Freshman at their Hand.
I am come now, Gentlemen, to my Third Division. And here willingly would I be silent, but Justice calls upon me to speak, though my Feelings are wounded by the Description. What shall I say then? Shall I call them with Dr. Hurd in one of his Dialogues, a Set of "Bearded Boys?"
And would you invite our liberal and noble Youth to resort hither? Can you expect that their free Spirits will stoop to be lectured by these? Or that their Minds

can ever be formed and tutored by such Pedants, in a Way that fits them for the real Practice of the World and of Mankind?

But let us choose an Instance for Illustration. Let one suffer for the Rest, and be selected as a Subject for Dissection. And can we want a Subject, whilst Euclid is before us? A Fellow whose only Pleasure and Delight lies in plaguing every body of equal Genius but less Erudition than himself. A Fellow, whose very Instructions are Insults, who forces Science upon you, Nolens volens, as an Apothecary does Physic; thrusts Rhomboids, Parallelograms and Parallelopipedons down your Throat, like Pistol's Leek; crams you with Pentagons, Hexagons and Quindekagons, till your Head is

as full of odd Shapes and Figures as a Chinese Manuscript, or an Egyptian Necromancer's Talisman, or the Hieroglyphics of a greasy Buttery Account Book. A Fellow who claps a triangular Mathematical Yoke or Collar round your Neck, as they do round a Hog's, to prevent your getting thro' the Parallels of a five-barr'd Gate, and feasting in the Turnip Field of Classical Knowledge on the other Side of it.
Evil Communication, says the old Copy-book, corrupts good Manners; and for my Part, I declare honestly that I can hardly consider that Knowledge as respectable, which I behold prostituted and contaminated by a Communication with the most despicable of Characters.

I can't help connecting my Ideas of one with the other; and then, damn 'em, I hate both. And yet, get them by themselves, the Mathematics are good intelligent Things enough. And very useful too, for a Land Surveyor or Builder of Bridges. I'm sure I look up to them with Fear and Reverence, as a Thief does to a Gibbet, and only pray secretly that it may never be my Case.
And then he is such an inveterate unchristian Rascal in his Resentments,
Letting the Sun go down upon his Wrath.
An absolute Polypheme;
Nec visu Facilis, nec Dictu Affabilis ulli.
In short, ten Times worse than Pedant, or any of his Compeers, in as much at least as a Person who behaves Ill

to every body is worse than him who has no Behaviour at all. And yet they are all bad enough occasionally, even men who are liberal and well spoken of at any other Place; as if they thought Illiberality a College Accomplishment, and were afraid of appearing affected and singular if they did not give into it. Or perhaps it may be Philosophically accounted for, by the Difference of the Medium in these Parts, and that the very Atmosphere is mephitically impregnated with a Sort of illiberal Vapour, from the constant Respiration of such a Number of uncivilized Inhabitants.

By the Time our Cicero had got thus far in his Oration, (which I have here endeavoured to give you

connectively, omitting the frequent Remarks and Interruptions of his Companions,) the Quantity of Liquor which he had drank, or according to his own Philosophical Method of accounting for Things, the Vinous Atmosphere he had been so long Breathing; called off the Organs of Speech from Elocution, to employ them in an Operation, perhaps more natural, and certainly better adapted to his present Condition. His Eyes fixed, his Jaw fell; down he dropped, and, (to use the Words of an Irish Acquaintance of mine, when he was describing the Issue of one of his Duels,)
Never brought Life to the Ground with him.
At least not intellectual Life. Well, in this State he lay for about five Minutes;

formidably Nasty indeed! Cascading like a Leaden River-God's Urn, or the grotesque Human Waterspouts of a gothic Cathedral. Presently he began to kick a little, and in a short Time after, by the Application of Salt, hot Water, and other Methods, according to the Practice of the Humane Society, which his Companions were very liberally observant of; he started up at once on his Legs, filled an half-pint Bumper of Punch, and indistinctly muttering an old Adage of his own, that
the more came out, the more Room to go in;
drained it in an Instant. This Act of Heroism, with the sagacious Comment that accompanied it, excited a Burst of Universal Applause.


"Well Jack," cried Tom Riotous, who stood next him, "Now you have settled your Internals, I suppose we shall have the Rest of your Oration? Come, come, why damn ye, you look as Meagre and as Melancholy as Duns Scotus of Merton in the last Page of the Bible! Come, your Oration!"
"Oration, Sir," exclaimed Solecism, (who since his last half Pint of Lethe, had been black in the Face with a Kind of hiccuping Convulsion, and remained without the least Recollection of any previous Circumstances,) "Oration, Sir, what d'ye mean to Insult me, Sir? Oration, Sir, is of two Kinds, . . . . . . . Demosthenes and his Plumb-stones. . . . . Two Methods of using the Hand, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,

in Oration, Sir. First, there is the Hand open, employed in the milder Kind of Argument: Then, Sir, (damme, I will not put up with an Insult,) there's the Hand closed, commonly called the clinch'd Fist, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 d'ye observe me, for more weighty Arguments, Sir; to evince, convince. The knock-ye-down Argument, Sir, which will humble the most high-headed Adversary; convert his perpendicular Arrogance into an horizontal Supineness, as I am now going to demonstrate upon your poor miserable Carcase." And as he spoke the last Word, he made a Blow at Riotous, which had it taken Place properly, would most effectually have verified his Assertion, by levelling the Object of it; but through

want of Precision in the Director, vented itself on an unhappy Plaister Figure of Tully that stood upon the Mantel-piece, which it broke into a thousand Pieces.
"Sir!" cried Riotous, (enforcing his Exclamation with a most dignified Profusion of Blasphemy, which, as the Wit will evaporate in Repetition, I shall leave you to guess at,) "Do you strike me, Sir! Such Behaviour requires Satisfaction. I insist upon immediate Satisfaction." Pistols were produced instantly; for it seems they are as necessary a Part of Furniture in an Oxford Apartment, as a Cork-screw or an Horsewhip; Seconds were chosen, Ground measured, and every thing prepared for Action. In the same Moment, sans Ceremonie,

or Compliment, Solecism swore and fired, but without any Effect. Upon this Riotous advanced; and applying the Muzzle of his Pistol to the Mouth of his unfortunate Antagonist, who began now to recover his Senses: "Solecism," says he, "you have broken the Rules of Honour: And now, by God, Sir, I'm sorry to tell you that you must die the Death for it. So prepare yourself to drop like a Gentleman, and here's at you. Gentlemen, fill Bumpers to Solecism's Voyage in the Ferry-boat, and raise a Subscription to pay for his Passage, for I dare say he has not a Sixpence of his own to defray the Expenses. Have you Jack?" Our poor Orator ran behind the Window Curtain and roared for Mercy. As one deprecated

the other persisted; till at last, finding his Enemy inexorable, he plucked up his scatter'd Resolution, and being determined I suppose to die like a good Christian, popp'd forth a Face the most ruefully ridiculous I ever beheld, and begg'd but for a minute's Respite. Then drawing it in again, "O Lord," cried he, "Thou seest the Situation I am in, pity a poor miserable Sinner (aye, cried Riotous, there you see he acknowledges his Poverty, I told you he had not a Sixpence. Come, subscribe Gentlemen.) who is going to be blown out of Life in a Smoke by . . . . . . He was then silent for about a Minute; but presently raising his Voice again, Lord Jesus, added he, receive my Spirit! — and now, Sir, (throwing

aside the Curtain, and stepping forward with a calm assured Countenance,) now, Damn ye, Fire away!" 'Twas done as soon as spoke; a Cloud of Smoke darken'd the Apartment, and upon its dispersing, no Solecism was to be found. One would have imagined him carried off by some Inchanter, like an Arabian Night Princess, or absolutely pulverized to an impalpable Powder by the Horrors of his Situation. Well, for above half an Hour I believe, did we hunt after him in every Stair-case in the Quadrangle, Dogs and all; till at last, guided by a Degree of Scent which I verily believe led us to the Discovery, we found him squeezed behind the Door of a Cellar, with his Eyes and Tongue rolling like

the Clock-work Drummer at the Wax-work, and his Hands raised upwards, like the Effigies of some brazen Saint in the Aisle or Vestibule of a Cathedral. And here, unobserved by the Rest of the Company, I took my Leave of Frankley, and departed to my Inn. And so ended the Operations of the first Day.
And now Charles I may tell you, lest you should suspect me of Inchantment in good earnest, that the Seconds had put no Lead into the Pistols; which allowed Solecism the Capability of quitting the Room at the Instant Riotous fired. How he effected it, you must enquire of his Fears, as it was with a more instantaneous Velocity than I have any Conception of.

The next Morning old Hartley informed me that he had been successful in his second Attack upon Pedant, and that we were both engaged to Breakfast there. On our Arrival we found him seated in due Form and Order, surrounded by Food mental and corporeal, with a Companion on the other Side the Table, whose Countenance had I met with it in a dark Lane or Alley, would by no means have corresponded with my Ideas of personal Safety. Upon our Entrance they rose and bowed distantly, and immediately reseating themselves, we followed their Example, and took our Chairs in awful Silence. As Pedant had not thought it necessary to effect a nominal Acquaintance of Parties by introducing us to this

Friend of his, we could only endeavour to supply the Deficiency, by surveying each other with that Kind of cautious Curiosity, which you may have seen in two Dogs upon their first Meeting, when they look half afraid and in Doubt whether they shall quarrel or not. Hartley indeed soon struck up a Conversation with Pedant, which I joined in occasionally; but my Attention was chiefly occupied in forming a conjectural judgement of his Comrade, whose Lips were never opened, unless once in five Minutes to give an abrupt Negative to what somebody else had been saying. "No such Thing—It was not so,"—or "I don't believe a Word of it;" and then he would take up a Book and begin Reading

again. Faith, Charles, I believe Pedant never appeared to such Advantage before. I began to suspect that he was determined to make the best of himself, and so brought the other Animal by way of Foil. For though neither of them could be accused of being overburthen'd with Entregent or Politeness, yet the Reserve and Aukwardness which proceeded from Mauvaise Honte in Pedant, seemed in the other to arise from a churlish Self-conceit, and a predetermined Contempt for the Understanding of his Company. Good God, thought I, this must be poor Solecism's Friend Euclid; there cannot surely exist two such Wretches! And Euclid indeed it was, as I found presently after by Pedant's naming him in the Course

of Conversation. I dare say now, Charles, from the little I saw of the Man, that he is capable of going into the first Company, committing every Incivility, perpetrating every shocking Clumsiness he can think of, and in short, just doing every thing that he ought not to do; without imagining it necessary to be ashamed of himself. I fancy he is one of those Ipse Dixit infallible Gentlemen, who either think they cannot do wrong, or imagine themselves qualified to do it. But I'll not attempt his Character, as I can send it to you drawn in a much more masterly Manner, by somebody who knows him better than I ever desire to do. It was given me by Frankley, whom I happened to meet in the Evening

at the Coffee-house, and upon mentioning the Company I had breakfasted with, he took it out of his Pocket, and told me that it was found about three or four Mornings since, pasted upon the Door of Euclid's Chambers, by way of Epitaph, but that the Author was utterly unknown.
EPITAPH.
Here continueth to slumber,
Whilst his Mind absorpt in Science
Dreams wildly of imaginary Propositions,
The Body of DIAGRAM EUCLID:
A Man, who in Defiance of the Weaknesses,
Unavoidably incident to his Nature;
Preserved a Consistency of Conduct,
And supported an Uniformity of Character,
Which Malice never could Asperse,
And Slander was unable to Vilify.

As a Tutor and Governor of his College;
Towards his Inferiors, his Superiors, and his Equals;
Towards his Servants, his Pupils, and towards his Friends;
If indeed he ever possessed one!
He persevered in an unvaried Illiberality of Behaviour.
That he might avoid the very Suspicion of being Partial.
Politeness he considered as a Servility,
Disgraceful to the Dignity of Learning;
And as his Soul was incapable of the Comforts of Society,
His Actions honestly expressed his dislike to it;
By disgusting every Company he appeared in,
With the Superciliousness of Cynical Contempt.
That he might not be accidentally agreeable,
He observed from his first Entrance at the University,
An inflexible Moroseness of Countenance
Which characterized the Misanthrophy of his Heart:
Nor was he ever seen to relax the Scowl of Severity,
But when his Spleen and Ill-nature were gratified

In wounding the Feelings of the Ingenuous,
Or covering the Face of the Diffident with the Blush of Confusion.
To avoid being imposed upon by Appearances,
His Memory never forgot an Affront,
And his Heart was never weak enough to forgive one:
For he considered Forgiveness as a Credulity,
Which might expose him to the Repetition of Insult.
When he was appointed Lecturer of his College,
In his favourite Science of Mathematics;
He confused the Understanding of his Auditors,
By Expressions they were incapable of comprehending;
And by a vain Ostentation of his own Erudition
Obscured what it was his Business to have illustrated to others.
In his Opinions and Assertions he was dogmatical,
Proud, pedantic, and perplexing;
Nor did he ever scruple to reprobate,
With all the Arrogance of conscious Superiority,
The united Authorities of his Predecessors in Science;
When they chanced to differ in their Sentiments
From his own infallible Standard of Perfection.

Think not, youthful Reader!
From the Depravity of this Man's Character,
That the Pursuit of Learning is to be neglected:
He was but suffered as an Instance,
That without good Manners it may be Despised,
Without good Nature it must ever be Detested.
Well Charles, what think you of it? Is it not a pretty good Pasquinade? God help the poor Author if he should be discovered! for I don't believe the Golgotha would have much mercy on him.
To return to my Breakfast again, (which I hope you have not forgot was suspended from a Principle of pure digressive Politeness;) I must inform you that Euclid having left us as soon as it was finished, old

Hartley and Pedant sat down to an inveterate Tête á Tête together; and having in the Course of about two Hours, restored Helen to her Husband, routed the Persian Army at the Plains of Marathon, with divers other Atchievements equally difficult and celebrated; it was proposed formally on Hartley's Part, and, after due Hesitation, as formally consented to on Pedant's, that he should accompany us to Dorsetshire.
And so here we are all at present, living as comfortably as we can together. Old Hartley and Pedant, and Pedant and old Hartley, to the End of the Chapter. And then Kitty and I, and I and Kitty, inseperables. Sometimes strolling in the Garden, and admiring the

horizontal Verdure of her Father's clipt Hedges; with fifty pretty little Similars full as indolently entertaining. Farewell Melmoth. The Voice of my Charmer, who at this Instant enters the Room, cuts short my Tale, and obliges me to conclude incontinently,
W. Easy.
—"From her Virgin Cheek a fresher Bloom
"Shoots, less and less, the live Carnation round;
"Her Lips blush deeper Sweets; she breaths of "Youth;
"The shining Moisture swells into her Eyes
"In brighter flow; her wishing Bosom heaves
"With Palpitations wild; kind Tumults seize
"Her Veins, and all her yielding Soul is Love."

Miss RUGG to Miss HARTLEY.
Foxhall,August,
My Dear Kitty.
I Received yours. Upon my Honour you have treated my last Letter very unmercifully; and positively accused me of Slyness and Secresy, without considering the Confidence I placed in you by sending it at all. Suppose I had thought proper to burn it, and had given you a fair Copy, revised and corrected? And then, after having been as spiteful and malicious as you possibly could be, and torn the poor thing Peice-meal, Sentence by Sentence, you affect to

be wondrously merciful, and 'tis your Charity forsooth that obliges you to believe that I did it all on Purpose. Since you are so very ready at Belief and Supposition, I shall not tell you whether I did or not, perhaps I might. But you know I can't retort or rally you, which makes you so saucy. However I must in Charity believe that you did it all by Accident, or I shall never have any Mercy on you; and as you have made some amends by sending me Easy's Poetical Secrets, I will even go farther, and give you a little authentic Information as to my Prospects with Melmoth. And this I can do in a very few Sentences, merely by way of Continuation to Easy's Intelligence. Since his Departure from Foxhall

then, my Uncle has been applied to by Letter, in consequence of which he arrived here about three Days ago. He has given his Consent and Approbation to our Marriage; Melmoth has determined to quit the Army, and every thing will probably be concluded in the Course of this Month. We expect my two Aunts from York on Wednesday. Is this Account plain and undisguised enough? Or is there any sly Stile of Secresy to be complained of? As to expatiating upon my own Happiness and my Inamorato's Extacy, I shall leave your Sensations when you think of similar Prospects with Easy, to supply the Omission. You know I love him; I own honestly that I do; and I hope at least, that he loves

me equally. What can I say then, but what your own Feelings will more forcibly speak for me? Adieu, Kitty; write soon to me; and believe my Sincerity, when I wish to see you as Happy as she hopes to be, who now probably for the last Time, subscribes herself
Maria Rugg.

Mr. HARTLEY to Sir ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.
O Sir Anthony! Sir Anthony! My best Set of Plans and Schemes, the best I ever contrived in my Life, are all blown up, and gone, and come to nothing, as one may say. Here when I had got him into Dorsetshire, and talked him over, and persuaded him, and had just brought Matters to bear, and had got him into the right Humour for it, and he had given his Consent to marry my Daughter, and all was in a Manner settled except acquainting her with my Success: then what does she go and do, but runs away within two Hours after I told her of her Happiness; and

takes Easy with her too, and I suppose they are gone to be married together. O! Never, never, was such an unlucky old Man in this World as I am! And after you warned me so much against it too in your last Letter, and told me you thought my Daughter had a Mind for a Husband that I did not in tend for her. And truly I began latterly to suspect as much myself; but then who would have thought of her going off and running away in this sudden Manner as one may call it? or else I had prepared to counteract that Husband for her. O I am the most unfortunate old Man in the World surely!
— "Dicique Beatus
"Aute obitum Nemo supremaque Funera debet."

Here I went to her after Breakfast this Morning, and told her that next Monday was to be the happy Day, and how happy I should be, and the like; and she put me into a Passion, and when I came to enquire for her at Dinner Time, nobody could tell what was become of her, and Easy was missing likewise. So I was for going to the Inn, and making Enquiries, and following them immediately in the Heat of my Passion, but Mr. Pedant was luckily at Hand to prevent me, and persuaded me that by staying till the next Morning, we could send and investigate Matters at the Inn more minutely, and should have more Time to consider what Steps should be taken, and to pack up our Things, and to prepare

every thing for pursuing them. So here I am, quite out of my Wits about it, as I may say; and my old Butler that has lived with me these four and twenty Years come Michaelmas, is quite out of his Wits too, and can hardly believe it, and is gone to the Fox and Goose, and the Crooked-Billet with John Docktail the Coachman, to see if he can hear any Tidings of her; and I told him to go to every Place in the Neighbourhood, and to get a Man to cry her. An obstinate perverse Hussy! I'm sure she has no more Taste for the dead Languages than my Housemaid, or she would never have ran away from such a Husband as Mr. Pedant. If she had but known how well the Ancients understood them, and

could discourse in them! And so often as I have talked to her about them, but she never would listen to me. And there I hear poor Mr. Pedant now, shut up in his Room, reading Greek like one distracted. Poor Man! I believe he never would express himself in his native Language if he could help it. But I am in the utmost Hurry and Confusion, and must go and give Orders about fifty Things immediately, which obliges me to conclude as that wise People the Spartans used to do upon urgent Occasions, In great Haste,
Yours Laconically, Christopher Hartley.

Miss HARTLEY to Miss RUGG.
My dear Rugg,
HOW shall I write to you, and what Kind of roundabout Expression shall I adopt to acquaint you with my Situation! The more I consider the more I feel myself at a Loss! In three Words then, be it known — that my Father has been opinionated and imperious; I have been perhaps a little inconsiderate; and am at present, almost before I know how to believe it, on the Road to Scotland with Easy.
And now, if you have had Time enough for your Wonderment and

Conjecture, I'll let you into Particulars. You know my poor Papa, amongst his other Qualifications, had always that wise one of making every thing a great Secret, and keeping People as much in the Dark as possible whenever he had a Scheme in his Head, by way of surprising them all at once with its Excellence, when the Wind did get to it. So last Thursday after Breakfast he came up to my Room, (a Thing not very common with him, and which indeed he seldom used but upon grand Occasions,) and seating himself in a great Chair, and settling his Wig with both Hands by way of Preparation, "Kitty," says he, with a Face that told me some wondrous Matter was in Agitation,
you remember

when I was in London, that I introduced my Friend Mr. Pedant to you as a Man every Way qualified to make you a good Husband, and to restrain that Levity and Giddiness which the younger Part of your Sex are too much guilty of; though I must own I rather despaired of ever bringing him to consent to the Match. He has now you know, been here above a Month with me in the Country; in which Time by Persuasions and Promises, I have at last with Difficulty prevailed upon him to accept of my Proposals: and therefore, lest upon Reconsideration he should be induced to alter his Mind towards you in this Matter, I have thought it better to Strike whilst the

Iron is hot, and on Monday next have resolved that you shall be made happy. In Regard to
—

My Dear Rugg I was Thunderstruck! for tho' I knew this was my Father's Intention in bringing Pedant to Dorsetshire with him, yet I had no Idea that the ungain Animal would ever have consented to so dreadful a Ceremony with me, after the many silly Looks I had helped him to put on, since he had been there. However, I presently collected myself enough to cut my Father short in the Middle of his Sentence, which I suppose was to have concluded with a Panegyric on his Bookworm, by a
God forbid, my Dear Sir, that ever the Living and the Dead should be joined together! Let the Dead

bury their Dead, my Dear Father, and his Books him, say I; for I'm sure he is as disagreeable and dead to the World as the Languages he cultivates.

My Father looked at me, wondrous petulant I could perceive. O those confounded Languages! that ever my ill Stars led me to mention the Word! for immediately, and the Frenzy took him like Lightning, "Peace, Peace, Girl," said he,
the Greek Language though it,
— And here he was tumbling all at once into his Eulogium upon its various Excellencies, when I, who had experienced the miserable Ennui of that self same Dissertation at least fifty Times in my Life, and knew from the Beginning that it might last from two

Hours to three or four; could not help interrupting him, by saying how much I was indebted for the Trouble he was going to give himself, but as I had it perfectly fresh in my Memory since the Rehearsal of Tuesday Se'nnight, I should be happy to postpone the Hearing till some future Opportunity, when my Recollection might begin to fail me. This put him into a desperate Passion, which I really did not Design. He snatch'd up his Stick to express the Vehemence of his Displeasure; but Impatience begetting Inattention, instead of the Floor which he intended should be the Sufferer, he applied it to his own Gouty Shins with such a hearty Good-will, that I thought he would never have forgiven himself. He was now

past all Patience: so that grinning between his high Anger for my contemptuous Treatment of the Grecians, and the actual Pain he suffered from the Vigour of his own Bastinado; "By God," cried he,
Kitty, I'll not be trifled with. Monday is the Day on which your Happiness is determined, and Happy you shall be, (rubbing his Leg all the Time,) in spite of yourself. I know more of Easy, Madam, than you are aware of.
And with these Words he hobbled out of the Room.

What could I do, my Dear? I knew him to be exceeding obstinate, particularly when Literature was in the Question; besides I was rather piqued at the Positiveness and

Undutifulness of his Behaviour; for I hold Undutifulness in a Parent to be the worst of all possible Offences. And then too his last obscure Sentence in regard to Easy, greatly perplexed me. Just as I was in the Midst of all these Puzzles, Easy came into the Room; and discovering immediately by my Countenance that all was not Right, enquired what was the Matter. I, as People in a Passion, like Invalids, are always bursting to tell their Complaints, related all that had happened; and to cut my Story short, what with Persuasion and Argument on one Side, and Fear and Displeasure and an odd Taste for Novelty and Eclat on the other, recollecting too that very just Saying of the Poet, that
The

Woman who deliberates is lost,
which Easy very forcibly urged upon me: he made the best of his Opportunity, and within two Hours I found myself in a Post-chaise, half willing, half unwilling, nothing with me but my Riding-Habit and some Linen, and indeed not quite certain whether I was there myself.

So you see my Dear, how great Consequences, like great Folks, generally owe their Greatness to small Causes and little Incidents▪ for had not that unfortunate Dissertation upon the Grecians come across us, and had not my Father, when he caught up his Stick in consequence of my thwarting him there, made that unpropitious Application to his own Shins, instead

of the Ground which he intended, we might probably have talked the Matter over coolly; the Day of Marriage might have been postponed; Pedant, after several Protractions, might in the End have been exploded or tired out; and every Thing terminated as I could have wished for. Whereas now, my Father I dare say is raving like fifty Bedlamites, and perhaps spouting Greek too at such a Rate that all the Country will take him for a Necromancer; whilst I, like a poor inconsiderate giddy-brain'd Girl, am flourishing away, and killing Post-horses with a Knight Errant on a Journey to the Land of Matrimony, without so much as a new Gown or a Wedding-ring prepared for the Occasion.

Well, my Dear Maria! of all the silly Things you feel yourself disposed to, never make a Runaway Match of it. Though I don't think you are in any great Danger, with all your Reserve and Prudence about matrimonial Matters. And yet how should I laugh to see you for once as great a Madcap as myself! To meet you upon the Road now, going off, as they say, with your Officer. Some how or other, I am monstrously frightened! I did not think I should have been half such a Coward when I sat out, or I'm sure he would never have persuaded me! However, I long anxiously for your Opinion about it. Do you think I have acted Rightly? If yes, let me know instantly. But if no, you may as well keep your

Pen and Censure to yourself; for since what is done is done, I am determined to be in the Right, so I tell you beforehand. And yet you can't write to me, for I have no Place of Address, and now only steal this Hour from Sleep to scribble to you, as we are off again very early in the Morning. However, we purpose seeing you at Foxhall on our Return, when we shall not be in such a desperate Hurry as we are at present. Adieu, and believe me, whether single or married,
Yours ever, Catharine Hartley.
P. S. I received your last. How different the Stile of our two Weddings will be! As different as our Dispositions.

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Edinburgh.
My Dear Charles,
TO say that I am the happiest Creature existing, will be only repeating what every vulgar Fool or Merchant's Clerk has said upon the same Occasion; and yet how else can I express myself? Miss Hartley, Miss Hartley now no more! is mine by all the Ties of Love and Honour! Don't think me mad and raving now, and throw down my Letter in a Passion. We were married Yesterday. The Place my Letter is dated from will give

you some Information as to the grand Outline of our Proceedings; the Particulars I am now going to furnish you with.
I believe I mentioned in my last that I was not entirely satisfied with some Parts of Pedant's Behaviour, nor with the frequent Closetings and Conferences between him and old Hartley. I cannot say that I paid any Attention to those Appearances at the Time, but since they have turned out so consequential, I must mention one particular Circumstance as it occurs to me, before I proceed any farther. About a Fortnight ago I remember, when old Hartley had retired as usual to take his Afternoon Nap, and Pedant and myself were left in the Parlour together, I stepped out of the Room

for about ten Minutes, to relieve myself from the Fatigue of his Taciturnity by a little Conversation with my Kitty above Stairs. Upon my Return, finding the Wretch exactly where I left him, absorpt in Cogitation; I was in some doubt at first whether I ought not to attempt a Recovery from the Torpor he seemed to labour under, by a salutary Tweak of the Nose; when presently I observed the Fore-finger of his Right-hand placed cautiously and as if it was an Act of Deliberation, across the Palm of his Left, and after a few unintelligible Mutterings, he began Syllogizing as follows.
The Man who marries Miss Hartley, gets her Fortune.
I marry Miss Hartley,
Ergo. I get her Fortune.

I could hold out no longer, but instantly gave him the Negatur, with a Voice that made him start as if he had seen the Ghosts of his Forefathers, for he had not perceived that I was in the Room. He jump'd up, and
Roll'd his Eyes that witnessed Huge Dismay,
and turned out of the Room with a more meaning Confusion in his Countenance than I ever before observed there. Now this little Circumstance I say, (knowing the Man's Stile and Character,) as well as several others, had made me for some Time suspect that the old Gentleman and Pedant had some silly Piece of Contrivance in their Head. However, as nothing very Material appeared, I doubted not but that with the

Help of my Dear Divinity, I should be able gradually to Counteract them, before they brought any Thing to a Conclusion. The Event however proved the Contrary; and as the Suddenness of their Explosion, left me no Opportunity for Sap or Countermine in my Operations, I was oblige to commit every Thing to the Hazard of a Coup de Main, in which I happily succeeded. Going a few Mornings since, I believe it was Thursday, into Kitty's Dressing-room, "O Easy," says she, and I thought she seemed nettled at something, "I'm glad you are come to give me Joy! Monday next is the Day fixed on for my being made happy, that is you know, in my Father's Dialect, being married to Pedant." "Monday next!"

was my Reply. "And more than that," continued she, "He is so Paternal as to tell me that I shall be made happy then, whether I like it or not. If he thinks he can effect this, I fancy he will be about as cunning as Sancho in his Government, when he sentenced a Criminal to sleep so many Nights in Prison. But what is to be done, Easy? What Measures can we take to prevent all this? For you know if one did feel an odd Fancy to accept of the Wretch, one would choose to take one's own Time about it." Was not this a fair Opening Charles? Little Cupid, who I suppose sat upon my Shoulder, immediately whisper'd, "Scotland and a Post-chaise and Four," and offered himself as first Postillion. Faith

I thought the young Fellow advised very sensibly; so as he had mentioned it in Confidence to me, I could not do otherwise than communicate it between a Kiss and a Whisper to the Ear of my Kitty. She look'd a little Queerly at the Proposal, and hesitated, and said nothing. When a Woman does not absolutely start at the first Intimation of a Thing of this Nature, you may make yourself sure of her Consenting within half an Hour, if it is not your own Fault. So having once broke the Ice, I thought it better, like old Hartley, to "Strike whilst the Iron is hot," and urged my Proposal upon her with all the Rhetoric I was master of. I exaggerated the inevitable Danger she exposed herself to, by

delaying any longer; expatiated upon the unhappy Obstinacy of her Father's Temper; that as he had hitherto kept his Designs so secret as to the Time intended for her Marriage, it was too probable, that excited by his detestable Coadjutor, he would adopt Measures for the effecting it, which must utterly Ruin all our Prospects. That it was not to be doubted but that her Father, though he might at first be highly displeased with the Step I proposed, would soon, upon Consideration, see Things in a proper Light, and even be inclined to thank us for Counteracting him. That all his Friends, she very well knew, had invariably condemned his strange Idea of sacrificing his Daughter to a Bookworm. That

their Opinions would certainly have great Weight with him, when the Delusion he at present laboured under was removed. That, as she knew how well he loved her, his Displeasure would fall in some Part upon Pedant; mutual Recriminations would ensue, and the Animal would show himself in his proper Colours. That, at all Events, her Father's strange Treatment of her in this Business, would entirely justify her Measures; and that I could not say, however highly I reverenced the Duty of Children towards their Parents, that I thought it should be observed implicitly, when so great a Stake as one's own Happiness or Misery was depending." Whilst I was haranguing thus finely, I could perceive by five

hundred little Changes in her Countenance, what an internal Contest she was engaged in. For Instance, there was Love I suppose, and the Novelty of the Thing, and a little Pique against her Father; all Volunteers on my Side the Question. Then there was Prudence, and Propriety, and Punctilio, and a whole Muster-roll of Presbyterian Virtues, like a City Militia, on the other. And like a City Militia there they stood by each other, all in Form no doubt, and made a great Show of Resistance; but as soon as the other Party charged home upon them, away they ran as if the Devil was at their Heels, and not two were to be found together 'till all the Danger was over. For guessing how

Matters stood with her, I brought up to the Attack a Reinforcement of Arguments; and at last, as the Reward for all my Trouble, drew from her Lips a dear Kind of half denying Affirmative, which I took immediate Advantage of, by running out of the Room whilst she remained in the right Humour, and in short conducted every thing with so much Vigour, that I believe within two Hours from the Time of our Consultation, we found ourselves Cheek by Jole in a Post-chaise together.

And here we are now in Scotland, as happy as any two new married People can be. My dear Girl, with all "the Bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love" glowing in her Cheeks, is more winning

Soft, more amiably Mild than all the Heathen Beauties I ever heard or read of, if they were put together, with their Goddesses at the Head of them. O Charles! How she looked Yesterday as we returned from the Altar! With such a dear Demisaison April Smile upon her Countenance, moistened with a Tear! And every now and then she is so prettily Pensive, which I love her ten Times more for, from the Novelty of the Thing. O Melmoth, how rejoiced I am on all Accounts at what has happened. For if her Father had been less Precipitate and Peremptory, and I had not taken her at the Instant when every Thing was favourable, the little Gipsy might have played me on and off for this Twelvemonth,

and teased my very Soul out. By the Bye, I wonder why that odd Urchin Cupid pitches upon Scotland as the Place of Rendezvous for all his mad Votaries, unless he does it to case-harden their Hearts against all other Impressions by the Rigour of the Climate, like hot Iron in cold Water. Or, perhaps he means to try whether their Passion will bear Change of Country; and considers no Love as a true one, which is not sufficient to keep a Man warm so many Degrees Northward, and enable him to write Odes like a Laplander to his Orra Moor, tho' he is Knee deep in Snow all the Time.
Well Charles, I think I have done very handsomely in absenting myself so long from my
Gentle

Kate,
on purpose to send an Account of Matters to you. And if you don't think so to; (though I believe you are still uxorious enough to allow my Plea,) pray put yourself in my Situation for five Minutes, and then if you are not amazed at my Abstinence, I shall not scruple to call you the most unreasonable Fellow living whenever I meet you. Adieu, we are now going to station ourselves at Sir Thoroughbred's, from whence Penitentials, Mediatorials, and Conciliatories, will be dispatched to my queer Father-in-law, with all due Ceremony and Expedition. Encore Adieu. Believe me, tho' married, as much as ever, your

William Easy.

Sir THOROBRED RUGG to CHARLES MELMOTH, Esq
Foxhall,
DAmnation, Charles Melmoth, I believe every body is mad, of our Acquaintance at least, and are determined to make my House their Bedlam. Here's your Brother George and Maria in the first Place; they have been prating and preaching and palavering one another over, till they have both persuaded themselves they were in Love; and so then my Uncle was to be wrote to, and fetched to see their Folly, and consent to their Running in Couples.

By and by I hear a confounded Noise and Rattle at my Gate, and who of all the Fools in the World should bolt out of a Post-chaise, but our poor silly Friend Easy, with Kitty Hartley tack'd to his Tail by Way of Help-mate. However, they have had a long Run for it, and good Sport I dare swear. Let me see. A damn'd silly Scheme of old Hartley's about one Pedant, first unkennell'd them. 'Twas at his House they broke cover. And then took off strait an End to Edinburgh. The old Fellow and Pedant after them, full cry. A fine Burst by God? Well, at Edinburgh they headed back it seems, and before old Hartley got there, were both earth'd safe enough at Foxhall. However, the old Dog

stuck to the Scent, and was here yesterday Morning by ten o'Clock to dig 'em out again. As for Pedant, he lagg'd, and was lost some how as soon as he lost Scent of Matrimony. However, I'm glad to see Easy has so much Bottom. I never thought he'd have run half so well. And the old Buck is in good Humour too, now he finds Things can't be altered.
So I have got a fine Housefull of 'em too; and not a Creature, except your Brother, knows which Side of a Horse to mount on; like that poor stupid Rascal Nineveh, that didn't know his Right-hand from his left, as King Solomon says. I wish you and your Wife were here with all my Soul, for the Lovers talk all of them so much

like Fools, and Hartley so much like an old Schoolmaster, that there's no bearing them; and my Uncle you know is a devilish Slugg in Conversation at best. So that at present I'm absolutely not Master of my own House, and can hardly squeeze in a Word edgeways about Surly or my Chesnut Stone-horse. Faith I begin to find it very true, what my old Friend Virgil used to tell me when I was at School, in his Art of Prophecy; that it was impossible to couple a Horse's Neck to a Man's Head. I believe he said, People would laugh at you, if you tried at it.
Humano Capiti Risum tencatis Equinum,
You remember what I mean. And indeed he was pretty right there too, for they generally do when I

begin; and Will Easy in particular, who knows no more of a Horse than I do of a Rhinoceros. Poor ignorant Fellow! And George too, though he sometimes will ride with me, yet he always pulls his Boots off and Dresses when he comes in, and scents himself with all Manner of Nastiness for my Sister to smell to him. He never goes by my Kennel but the Dogs give tongue; and when he came down here, was mistaken at two or three Inns for Bailey the great Perfumer in Cockspur-Street. So I'm always obliged to carry a Fox's Pad in my Pocket to prevent being infected. Love, Love, Love, and Ottah of Roses from Morning till Night! Damn it, I'll go and coquet with my Horse!

Thoroughbred Rugg.

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.
Foxhall,September.
WELL, my Dear Friend, here we are all assembled, like Characters in the last Scene of a Comedy, for the Sake of Matrimony.
•	Dramatis Personae.
•	William Easy, Esquire, a young Gentleman of polite Accomplishments, (will that do to begin, Charles?) just married to Miss Hartley, against her Father's Consent. A Runaway Match. (Does that look Polite? I'm afraid it is too common amongst the Canaille now! Damn the Dogs, how soon they ape all our Fashions! ey, or Christopher Hartley, Esquire, a Sir Wou'd-be Literate, Father to Miss Hartley; displeased at first, but afterwards reconciled to the Match.
•George Melmoth, a young Officer; rather fine, but of good Reputation; (I may venture to say that, mayn't I?) on the Brink of Matrimony with Miss Rugg.
•	Mr. Rugg, her Uncle and Guardian, an inoffensive Chip-in-Porridge sort of a Man.
•	Sir Thoroughbred Rugg — whose Character I must omit as infinitely too Eccentrical for my Pen to do Justice to.
•	The Reverend Tom Fetlock, a stupid Parson, useful enough in the marrying Way.
•	Mrs. Easy, late Miss Hartley. A Goddess!
•	Miss Rugg. A good natured sensible Girl, with a good Fortune.
•	And Sir Thoroughbred's two Aunts, whom I had almost forgot to mention; A Couple of old Snuffboxes, or Rolls of Pigtail Tobacco.
SCENE, Foxhall.
Servants, Horses, Victuals and Drink, Licences, Settlements, &c.
ACT 1st. SCENE 1st.
And here, if you please, we will drop our Theatrical Embellishments,

and give you a plain Historical Account of Things. I mentioned in my last our Intention of stopping at Sir Thoroughbred's, and dispatching our Penitentials from that Quarter. But the old Gentleman has saved us the Trouble. For we had hardly been stationed here four and twenty Hours, just Time enough to tell our Adventures, eat a comfortable Meal, and enjoy a good Night's sleep upon it, when the next Morning about half an Hour after Breakfast, as I was sauntering in the Hall with the Baronet, I heard a Carriage stop at the Gate, and presently in stump'd old Hartley, with his two Ivory-headed Canes in one Hand, and his Hat and Handkerchief in

the other. You may guess I found myself in a little Embarras at his appearing so unexpectedly. Sir Thoroughbred advanced to receive him.
He begg'd Pardon, he said, for troubling him with this Visit, but that it was needless to mention the Occasion of it, and that he should be glad of a little private Conversation with me.
So in he went to Sir Thoroughbred's Study; and I followed, with as little Inclination as ever I did at Eton to receive a Flogging. And faith I believe I look'd monstrous silly, not unlike a condemned Schoolboy. However, as it has been always a Rule invariable with me, whenever I am on the wrong Side of the Question, to carry Matters

with an high Hand; and behaving myself as the injured Person, to astonish my Plaintiff into Silence by the unexpectedness of the Retort: I resolved not to be wanting to myself in the present Attack, and had already prepared a tolerable Volley of Recrimination to counterpoise my Antagonist, when my Expectations were very agreeably disappointed. So far from arraigning me with all the just Resentment of an injured Parent, he only censured me mildly for the Precipitancy and Unkindness of my Conduct towards him, and after sagaciously remarking (which I suppose he had discovered in his Way from Edinburgh as well as ourselves,) that
What was done

could not be undone,
and that
We should always make the best of a bad Bargain,
with a few more pretty Proverbials of the same Sort; he absolutely found me Guilty only of Petty Larceny, and enquired kindly after his Daughter, desiring to see her. I need not tell you my Amazement at a Reception so entirely unhoped for, nor of the many Vows and Protestations I gave him in return for it. I ran up Stairs to Kitty, whom I found with Miss Rugg at her Elbow, in no small Consternation. My Intelligence was Spirits of Hartshorn to her. Down she came instantly, not forgetting however to look as Melancholy and Repentant as possible, and threw herself at

his Feet. He, immediately raised her up you know; and so then, after allowing a sufficient Quantity of Slobbering, and Blessing, and White Handkerchief Work; all was well again. I believe we are all apt to form Judgments of People in Proportion to their good or bad Behaviour towards ourselves, and indeed we should be sad Wretches if we did not show some such Gratitude to our Benefactors; but I really think I never knew old Hartley so agreeable, or felt half so much regard for him, as at present. We all get our Health here as well as can be expected, and both young and old are exceedingly Convivial. In about a Week your poor Brother's Slip-Knot is

to be drawn tight; and according to old Hartley, I am likely to come in for a second Edition of Matrimony, as he seems not at all satisfied with the Validity of any Thing on the other Side the Tweed. So "in for a Penny, in for a Pound," as they say; I have nothing to do but submit myself. And yet I don't know, Charles! a Double Knot is confoundedly difficult to be untied, though one should have ever so great a Mind for it. Well, God help us, poor Souls, since we must
March! Two and Two, Newgate Fashion!
as Bardolph says. God help us, say I, and keep us all from Quarrelling, and that we may not hate one another,

is the sincere Wish and Prayer of William Easy the married Man.

I had almost forgot to tell you that I could not rest till I had endeavoured to find out the Cause of Hartley's wonderful Acquiescence, and where his Rarity of a Companion had bestowed himself. Upon enquiring of his Servant, I found that his Master upon first missing us, which was about two Hours after our Departure, flew into a most violent Passion, and would have prepared for an immediate Pursuit; (now I did not imagine he would have pursued us at all) but that upon Pedant's over-persuasion, they delayed it till the next Morning. That upon their Arrival at Edinburgh, finding

the Turtles paired and flown, the old Gentleman appeared very thoughtful; and hearing some how or other of our Intention to visit Foxhall, he determined to follow us thither, and proposed it to his Companion, who seemingly acquiesced. But that next Morning upon his enquiring after him at Breakfast, no Pedant was to be found, nor any body that could give the smallest Account of him. Old Hartley was inconsolable; and People were just beginning to propose a grand Searching of Horse-ponds, Hog-tubs, and I suppose Necessaries, had there been any; when one of the Postilions or Bootcatchers recollected, that he had seen a maddish looking Gentleman go out of their House very

early in the Morning to a Stage-Coach that was passing, which he believed he went away with, but could not tell whether it was in the Inside or the Basket. So here all our Wonderments are unriddled, and our Reception accounted for. For the sneaking Animal you see, finding all his Hopes at an End, thinks proper to slink off, and leave Hartley to make the best of it. This piques the old Gentleman, who begins at last to open his Eyes a little and perceive what a Fool he has been. And so, considering as he says, that
What is done cannot be undone,
he resolves to put the best Face upon Things, and make up his Mind as well as he can about it, before he sees us. I wondered what the Deuce made

him so amazingly Piano upon the Occasion, but this clears up the Mystery. And as for Pedant, he has shown his Wisdom too. For to be sure his Appearance at the Baronet's must have been rather a silly one, circumstanced as he was, like Squire Gawkey at the End of a Pantomime, when he finds Harlequin in full Possession of his Mistress. So All's well that Ends well, that I may conclude like my Father-in-law with a Proverb, and I forthwith subscribe myself,

Yours, sincerely, W. Easy.


