remorse, but the repetition of his crime. It is poffible I may talk of this perfon with too much indulgence, but I must repeat it, that I think this a character which is the most the object of pity of any one in the world. The man in the pangs of the ftone, gout, or any acute diftemper, is not in fo deplorable a condition in the eye of right fenfe, as he that errs and repents, and repents and errs on. The fellow with broken limbs, juftly deferves your alms for his impotent condition; but he that can't use his own reason is in a much worse state, for you fee him in miferable circumftances, with his remedy at the fame time in his own poffeffion, if he would or could use it. This is the cause that, of all ill characters, the rake has the best quarter in the world; for when he is himfelf, and unruffled with intemperance, you fee his natural faculties exert themselves, and attract an eye of favour towards his infirmities.

But if we look round us here, how many dull rogues are there that would fain be what this poor man hates himself for? All the noise towards fix in the evening is caused by his mimicks and imitators. How ought men of fenfe to be careful of their actions, if it were merely from the indignation of seeing themselves ill drawn by fuch little pretenders? Not to fay, he that leads is guilty of all the actions of his followers; and a rake has imitators whom you would never expect should prove fo. Second-hand vice, fure, of all is the moft naufeous. There is hardly a folly more abfurd, or which feems less to be accounted for (though it is what we see every day), than that grave and honest natures give into this way, and at the fame time have good fenfe, if they thought fit to use it; but the fatality (under which most men labour) of desiring to be what they are not, makes them go out of a method, in which they might be received with applause, and would certainly excel, into one, wherein they will all their life have the air of ftrangers to what they aim at.

For this reafon, I have not lamented the metamorphofis of any one I know fo much as of Nobilis, who was born with sweetness of temper, just apprehenfion, and everything elfe that might make him a man fit for his order. But inftead of the pursuit of fober studies and applications, in which he would certainly be capable of making a confiderable figure

in the noblest assembly of men in the world; I fay, in spite of that good nature, which is his proper bent, he will fay illnatured things aloud, put fuch as he was, and still should be, out of countenance, and drown all the natural good in him, to receive an artificial ill character, in which he will never fucceed, for Nobilis is no rake. He may guzzle as much wine as he pleases, talk by if he thinks fit; but he may as well drink water gruel, and go twice a day to church, for it will never do. I pronounce it again, Nobilis is no rake. To be of that order, he must be vicious against his will, and not fo by study or application. All pretty fellows are also excluded to a man, as well as all inamoratos, or perfons of the epicene gender, who gaze at one another in the prefence of ladies. This clafs, of which I am giving you an account, is pretended to alfo by men of strong abilities in drinking, though they are fuch whom the liquor, not the converfation, keeps together. But blockheads may roar, fight, and stab, and be never the nearer their labour is also lost—they want sense—they are no rakes.

As a rake among men is the man who lives in the conftant abuse of his reason, so a coquette among women is one who lives in continual mifapplication of her beauty. The chief of all whom I have the honour to be acquainted with, is pretty Mifs Tofs. She is ever in practice of fomething which diffigures her and takes from her charms, though all she does tends to a contrary effect. She has naturally a very agreeable voice and utterance, which she has changed for the prettiest lifp imaginable. She fees what she has a mind to fee at half a mile distance; but peering with her eyes half shut at every one fhe paffes by, the believes much more becoming. The Cupid on her fan and she have their eyes full on each other, all the time in which they are not both in motion. Whenever her eye is turned from that dear object, you may have a glance, and your bow, if she is in humour, returned as civilly as you make it; but that must not be in the presence of a man of greater quality, for Mifs Tofs is fo thoroughly well-bred, that the chief perfon present has all her regards. And she who giggles at divine service and laughs at her very mother, can compose herself at the approach of a man of a good estate.

MR. BICKERSTAFF VISITS THE FAMILY OF AN EARLY FRIEND -SCENE OF DOMESTIC FELICITY.

Interea dulces pendent circum ofcula nati,

Cafta pudicitiam fervat domus.

VIRG.

Mean time his darling fons hang on his lips, and a ftrict virtue appears in the whole family.

HERE are feveral perfons who have many pleasures and entertainments in their poffeffion which they do not enjoy; it is therefore a kind and good office to acquaint them with their own happiness and turn their attention to fuch inftances of their good fortune which they are apt to overlook. Perfons in the married state often want fuch a monitor, and pine away their days by looking upon the fame condition in anguish and murmur which carries with it, in the opinion of others, a complication of all the pleafures of life and a retreat from its inquietudes.

I am led into this thought by a vifit I made an old friend who was formerly my fchoolfellow. He came to town laft week with his family for the winter, and yesterday morning sent me word his wife expected me to dinner. I am as it were at home at that houfe, and every member of it knows me for their well-wifher. I cannot indeed exprefs the pleasure

it is to be met by the children with so much joy as I am when I go thither the boys and girls strive who shall come first when they think it is I that am knocking at the door, and that child which lofes the race to me runs back again to tell the father it is Mr. Bickerstaff. This day I was led in by a pretty girl that we all thought must have forgot me, for the family has been out of town these two years. Her knowing me again was a mighty fubject with us, and took up our discourse at the first entrance. After which they began to rally me upon a thousand little ftories they heard in the country about my marriage to one of my neighbour's daughters, upon which the gentleman, my friend, faid, "Nay, if Mr. Bickerstaff marries a child of any of his old companions, I hope mine shall have the preference; there's Mrs. Mary is now fixteen, and would make him as fine a widow as the best of them. But I know him too well; he is so enamoured with the very memory of those who flourished in our youth, that he will not fo much as look upon the modern beauties. I remember, old gentleman, how often you went home in a day to refresh your countenance and dress when Teraminta reigned in your heart. As we came up in the coach, I repeated to my wife fome of your verfes on her." With such reflections on little paffages which happened long ago, we paffed our time during a cheerful and elegant meal. After dinner his lady left the room, as did also the children. As foon as we were alone he took me by the hand: "Well, my good friend," fays he, "I am heartily glad to fee thee; I was afraid you would never have seen all the company that dined with you to-day again. Do not you think the good woman of the house a little altered fince you followed her from the play-house to find out who she was for me?" I perceived a tear fall down his cheek as he spoke, which moved me not a little. But to turn the discourse, faid I, "She is not indeed quite that creature she was when she returned me the letter I carried from you, and told me she hoped, as I was a gentleman, I would be employed no more to trouble her who had never offended me, but would be so much the gentleman's friend as to dissuade him from a pursuit which he could never fucceed in. You may remember I thought her in

earnest, and you were forced to employ your coufin Will, who made his fifter get acquainted with her for you. You cannot expect her to be for ever fifteen." "Fifteen!" replied my good friend: "Ah! you little understand, you that have lived a bachelor, how great, how exquifite a pleasure there is in being really beloved! It is impoffible that the most beauteous face in nature should raise in me such pleasing ideas as when I look upon that excellent woman. That fading in her countenance is chiefly caused by her watching with me in my fever. This was followed by a fit of sickness which had like to have carried her off laft winter. I tell you fincerely, I have so many obligations to her that I cannot with any fort of moderation think of her present state of health. But as to what you fay of fifteen, fhe gives me every day pleasures beyond what I ever knew in the poffeffion of her beauty when I was in the vigour of youth. Every moment of her life brings me fresh inftances of her complacency to my inclinations and her prudence in regard to my fortune. Her face is to me much more beautiful than when I first saw it-there is no decay in any feature which I cannot trace from the very instant it was occafioned by fome anxious concern for my welfare and interests. Thus at the fame time, methinks, the love I conceive towards her, for what she was, is heightened by my gratitude for what fhe is. The love of a wife is as much above the idle paffion commonly called by that name, as the loud laughter of buffoons is inferior to the elegant mirth of gentlemen. Oh! she is an inestimable jewel. In her examination of her household affairs, fhe fhews a certain fearfulness to find a fault, which makes her fervants obey her like children; and the meanest we have, has an ingenuous fhame for an offence, not always to be seen in children in other families. I fpeak freely to you my old friend; ever fince her fickness, things that gave me the quickest joy before, turn now to a certain anxiety. As the children play in the next room, I know the poor things by their steps, and am confidering what they must do, fhould they lose their mother in their tender years. The pleasure I ufed to take in telling my boy ftories of the battles, and asking my girl quef