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he left all his associates in the lurch. After this, John had no apples to roast at night, and grew very sulky with every body about him.

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John was a bad scholar-the natural difficulties of the Greek tongue, and "what worse," he, a silent passion for a virgin in my father's house quite unhinged all my resolutions of study." His father, however, was determined still to give him a chance of " some affinity to the muses" so at the age of fifteen years he was bound apprentice to Mr Thomas Packhurst, bookseller in London, a religious and just man." Here, as he says, he might at least have the opportunity of becoming skilled in "the outside of erudition-the shell and casks of learning." The confinement of the shop sickened him at first, and being quizzed by the other apprentices, he once fairly ran off to his father in the country. But there the gravity of paternal admonition, and John's own good sense soon restored him to his right mind-and he returned to Mr Packhurst, after an absence of a few days, with a settled purpose, which was soon changed into a settled love of application; nor from this time does it appear that he ever had any doubt for a moment that the highest, as well as the most delightful of all human occupations is that of a bookseller. Henceforth, Piso seemed in his eyes a greater man than twenty Horaces and Pope himself was scarcely regarded as any thing better than a piece of the furniture of Lintot's shop. The only interruption to which his professional avocations were now exposed, arose out of his old tendre for La Belle Passion. The origin of his first apprentice flame is somewhat whimsical-although very much we can believe in the course of apprentice life. One of his fellow apprentices forged a love-letter to him, in the name of a certain "young virgin," then a boarder with Mr Packhurst-as follows:

"DEAR SIR,-We have lived some time together in the same family, and your distant conversation has given me a little impatience to be better acquainted with you. I hope your good nature will not put any constructions upon this innocent address to my disadvantage; and should you discover it, it would certainly expose yourself at the expence of your

"SUSANNAH S-ING."

"I was strangely surprised," says he, "at this Billet-doux, and more in regard the lady had all the little and the charming prettinesses both of wit and beauty that might easily have gained her as many conquests as she pleased; in short, so licentious and extravagant was my folly, that I gave her a billet the same day, in which I made an appointment to meet her in Grocers' Garden the next evening, where we both attended; but so soon as I revealed the occasion, she told me she was ignorant of it. However, this romantic courtship gave both of us a real passion; but my Master, making a timely discovery of it, sent the lady into the country; and absence cooled our passions for us, and by little and little we both of us regained our liberty."

was

At the expiration of the apprenticeship, which was spent in this manner, John gave an entertainment to no less than a hundred apprentices, to celebrate the funeral. It must be observed, however, that John was no ordinary apprentice when he guilty of this piece of extravagance. He had made himself conspicuous as a principal leader on the part of the whigs; i. e. the whig apprenticeswhen they on one occasion made an address to Sir Patience Ward, Lord Mayor of London. John having been one of the first in the procession which carried this address, was of course one of the first who heard the Lord Mayor's excellent advice in reply, "Go home and mind your business, boys,"-but he could not help regarding himself already as a party-man of some consequence-and, indeed, in a petition to George II. written a great many years after, we find him still returning to the whiggery of his apprenticeship, as one of his greatest merits. However, he now became a bookseller on his own account, but to avoid too large a rent he took only half a shop, a warehouse, and fashionable chamber.

"PRINTING was now the uppermost in my thoughts, and Hackney Authors began to ply me with "Specimens," as earnestly, and with as much passion and concern, as the Watermen do Passengers with Oars and Scullers.

"I had some acquaintance with this Generation in my Apprenticeship, and had never any warm affection for them; in regard I always thought their great concern lay more in how much a Sheet, than in any generous respect they bore to the Common wealth of Learning; and, indeed, the Learning itself of these Gentlemen lies very often in as little room as their Honesty; though they will pretend to have studied

you six or seven years in the Bodleian Library, to have turned over the Fathers, and to have read and digested the whole compass both of Human and Ecclesiastic History-when, alas! they have never been able to understand a single page of Saint Cyprian, and cannot tell you whether the Fathers lived before or after Christ. And as for their Honesty, it is very remarkable: they will either persuade you to go upon another man's Copy, to steal his Thought, or to abridge his Book, which should have got him bread for his life-time. When you have engaged them upon some Project or other, they will write you oft three or four sheets perhaps; take up three or four pounds upon an urgent occasion; and you shall never hear of them more. I have offered thus much, as a character of these Scribblers, that may give the caution to Booksellers, and take off a most wretched scandal from the trade in general. How ever, though I have met with temptations enough of this nature, to grow rich by knavery, and a learned kind of theft; yet this I can say for myself (and I neither have, nor shall be too lavish in my own praise,) that I never printed another's Copy, went upon his Project, nor stole so much as his Title-page, or his Thought."

His views of the profession on which he had now entered, are sufficiently amusing.

"A man should be well furnished with an honest policy, if he intends to set out in the world now-a-days. And this is no less necessary in a Bookseller than in any other Tradesman! for in that way there are plots and counterplots, and a whole army of Hackney Authors that keep their grinders moving by the travail of their pens. These Gormandizers will eat you the very life out of a Copy so soon as ever it appears; for, as the times go, Original and Abridgement are almost reckoned as necessary as man and wife; so that I am really afraid that a Bookseller and a good conscience will shortly grow some strange thing in the earth. I shall not carry the reflection any farther, but only make this single remark, that he who designs to be the best Christian, must dip himself the least in business."

The moment he had opened his shop, and made a little money by publishing "the Reverend Mr Doolittle's Sufferings of Christ"-his elderly female acquaintances seem all to have very busily set about providing him with a wife. One Mrs Seaton recom

mended Miss Sarah Day of Greenwich-Sarah Doolittle was the next, and apparently a more tempting proposal.

There is Sarah Doolittle," says another person," will make a better wife for you by ten degrees, and then you will have her Father's Copies for nothing; and his

Book on the Sacrament, you know, has sold to the twentieth edition, which would have been an estate for a Bookseller.' This design was quite lost in the novelty of another; and Sam Crook being too fortunate a Rival, I would not so much as attempt the matter."

At last, however, John's time was

come.

"One Lord's-day (and I am very sensible of the sin) I was strolling about just as my fancy led me; and stepping into Dr. Annesley's Meeting-place, where, instead of engaging my attention to what the Doctor said, I suffered both my mind and my eyes to run at random (and it is very rare but Satan can throw in a temptation when the sinner lies open for it), I soon singled out a young lady that almost charmed me dead; but having made my inquiries, I found to my sorrow she was pre-engaged. However, my friends, to keep up the humour I was in, advised me to make an experiment upon her elder Sister (they both being the Daughters of the Reverend Dr. Annesley); and the hint they gave me, as Providence would have it, made a deeper impression upon me than all the recommendations they had given me before. I disposed all matters to carry on the design with all possible dispatch. But I steered by another compass than I had done in all my former amours. And was resolved, in regard the Reverend Dr. Annesley was a man of so much sincerity and religious prudence, to mention the matter first of all to him; and taking Mr. Isaac Brinly along with me, and Mr. Obadiah Mariat to second the proposal, the Doctor sent for Mr. Packhurst, who gave me a character that was favourable enough; so that, having received all reasonable satisfaction of that nature, the Doctor told me, I had his Daughter for her's; which was more than free consent, if I could prevail upon his

Mr. Cockeril (deceased) could ever obtain, after a long courtship.'

The modest Bibliopole seems never to have been troubled with any misgivings in regard to his own qualifications for gaining the affections of Miss Annesley, on whom and himself, from he bestows the Arcadian names of the commencement of their flirtation, Iris and Philaret. After a few months of delay, during which it seems to have been Dunton's custom to sup

every evening at the doctor's-the fair the happiest of men-they were marIris at length consented to make him ried on the 3d of August, 1682, in All-hallow's church, by Dr William Lewis-having listened the same morning to a preparatory sermon preached by the bride's father. We cannot afford room for Mr Dunton's abstract

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of this sermon; but shall only mention that the text was Ephesians, v. 32. "This is a great mystery." The posy of the wedding-ring was this, "God saw thee Most fit for me."

After the ceremony Dr Annesley appears to have sported a very good dinner (for a dissenter,) and if we may judge from the warmth of the following epithalamium, which was composed and sung in the course of the evening, by "the Reverend, learned, and devout Mr Joseph Veal"-the bottle had not been slow in its circuits. We quote the verses chiefly on account of the character here given of their author. All that's sweet and soft attend ; All that's calm, serene, and bright, That can please, or pleasure mend, Or secure, or cause delight. Little Cupids, come and move

Round the Bridegroom's greedy eyes; Whilst the stately Queen of Love

Round the Bride her cestus ties.
Golden Hymen, bring thy robe;
Bring thy torch, that still inspires,
Round the stately amorous globe,
Vigorous flames and gay desires.
Sister Graces, all appear;

Sister Graces, come away;
Let the Heavens be bright and clear,
Let the Earth keep holy-day.
Jocund Nature does prepare,

To salute the charming Bride;
And with odours fill the air,
Snatch'd from all the world beside.
Virtue, Wit, and Beauty may

For a time refuse to yield;
But at length they must obey,

And with honour quit the field.
Their efforts all in vain will prove,
To defend their free-born state,
When attack'd by mighty Love,
They must all capitulate.
Marble-hearted Virgins, who
Rail at Love, to shew your wits;
So did once Eliza too,

Yet with pleasure now submits.
You too, envious Swains, who would
Follow Cupid, if you might;
Like the Fox that gaping stood,
Discommend the grapes for spite.
Since experience teacheth best,

Ask if mutual Love has charms,
When the Bride and Bridegroom rest,
Lock'd in one another's arms."

It is needless to add, that Mr Dunton carried the lady home after supper to his own house-for he had now deserted the single chamber, and posted

"the sign of the Black Raven," in front of a tenement entirely his own. Here Iris soon exhibited her perfect possession of all the faculties most precious in the lady of a Bibliopole. She kept Dunton's cash-she balanced his books for him-she darned his stockings, and gave her opinion of MSS. In short, as Dunton says-" they were now on their own legs, and every thing prospered;" when of a sudden, there came an universal damp upon trade, occasioned by the defeat of Monmouth; and Dunton becoming involved in pecuniary difficulties by reason of some imprudent advances to his friends-found it expedient to get together as many books as he could, and sail for New England with the speculation. The parting with Iris is dwelt upon in the most affecting terms for many pages-but at last we find John at sea and very sick he is, and very cowardly, as might have been expected.

Myself and four more of the Passengers belonged to the Captain's mess; but very often, when we were soberly sat down to dinner, one blast of wind would lay all our provisions in common. When we

came about 50 leagues off the Lizard, and in 86 fathom of water, and beginning to sail by the Log, we were all on a sudden surprized with the cry of " A sail! a sail!" which they mistook for a Sallee-man : orders were given immediately to make ready to engage; and I was resolved among the rest, to lose the last drop of life. But soon after we lost sight of the Sallee-man, under the covert of a mist; though, about two o'clock next morning, we were rouzed with the shout, "Arise! arise! the Sallee-man's upon us." Upon this second alarm, every man was set to his gun in an instant; but as for myself, I kept out of sight as well as I could, till I heard them asking "Where is Mr Dunton, that was so valiant over night?" This, I confess, put me into a cold sweat, and I cried,

Coming! coming! I am only seeking my ruffles;" a bad excuse, you know, is better than none. I made my appearance at last, but looked nine ways at once; for I was afraid Death might come in amongst the boards, or nobody knew where. This is the only instance I can give, when my courage failed me. The danger was immediately blown over; for our pirate proved no more than a Virginia Merchant, that was equally afraid of our Ship. Upon this news, my courage returned; and I seemed very much dissatisfied, that I should lose the satisfaction of being engaged at sea.

He arrives in safety at Boston-and immediately commences a most elaborate description of the Rev. Mr In

crease Mather, and all the other doc tors and divines, who bought any of his books from him. He also favours us with minute delineations of all the Boston booksellers and printers-of which take this specimen

The next is Mr C-k, a young Beau, that boasts of more villany than ever he committed. However, as he bought a great many Books, I cannot disown my acquaintance with him. And I here publish his matchless impudence, in hopes to shame him into better morals.

Finally, he descends to particulars of his own acquaintances, male and female-on the ladies he enlarges multo con amore dividing them into three sections-viz. maids, wives, and widows, and uttering most oracular dogmata, touching them in their va rious stations. His chief favourite among the maids is not named; but she is described as being "a thornback" (a cant Bostonian, for a maiden of 30 years,) and her behaviour is described so graphically, that her acquaintances could not have been much at a loss to find her out. A mong the wives, Mrs Green is the empress of his admiration-she gets up every morning at 5 o'clock, to look after her damsels-she dresses the pudding with her own hands-and although she has been married only a few weeks, she never exhibits any of "the usual symptoms of over-fondness before company." The Widow Brick is the paragon of the 3d class.

But, having given a farewell to Mrs Green, I shall next present you with the character of the Widow Brick, the very flower of Boston. That of a Widow is the next state or change that can succeed to that of Marriage; and I have chosen my friend the Widow Brick, as an exemplar, to shew you what a Widow is. The Widow Brick is a Gentlewoman whose Head (i.e. her husband) has been cut off, and yet she lives and walks. But do not be frighted; for she is flesh and blood still, and perhaps some of the finest that you ever saw. She has sufficiently evidenced that her Love to her late Husband is as strong as Death, because Death has not been able to extinguish it. Her grief for his death was such as became her, great but moderate; not like a hasty shower, but a still rain: she knew nothing of those tragical furies wherewith some women seem transported towards their dead Husbands: those frantic embraces and caresses of a carcass betray a little too much the sensuality of their love; such violent passions quickly spend themselves, and seem rather to vanish than consume. But Madam Brick grieved more moderately, and more lastingly. I

always observed that, whenever she spoke of her Husband, it was in the most endearing manner. Nor could she ever mention him, without paying the tribute of a tear to his memory. She set such a value on her relation to her Husband, as to do nothing that might seem unworthy of it. Historians inform us, that it was the dying charge of Augustus to the Empress Livia, "Behave thyself well, and remember our marriage.' Madam Brick had yet another way of expressing the value she had for Mr Brick; and that is, by the kindness she shewed to the Children which he left behind him, which were only two. As to their education, she took care

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that they might have that learning that was proper for them; and above all, that they might be furnished with ingenuous and virtuous principles, founded on the fear of God. Neither did she suffer her pious behaviour to be cast off with her Widow's veil, but made it the constant dress both of her hereof, she became a member of Mr Allen's widowhood and life; and, as a consequence congregation, and lived a life of sincere piety; and yet was so far from sourness either in her countenance or conversation, that nothing was ever more sweet or agreeable; making it evident that piety did not consist in moroseness, nor sincere devotion in a supercilious carriage.

The less admirable specimens of the three classes are described more briefly, but not less graphically. Such as Mrs Toy-"The bashful Siren."—Mrs Abel, "whose Love is a blank, wherein she writes the first that offers himself."-and Mrs F——y,

"Had the Case of a Gentlewoman, but

little else to shew she was a Rational Creature, besides Speech and Laughter. When I first saw her, I was not long to guess what she was, for Nature had hung out the sign of simplicity in her face. When she came into my Warehouse, I wondered what Book she intended to buy. At last I perceived she intended to buy none, because she knew not what to ask for; yet she took up several, looked in them, and laid them down again. Perceiving her simplicity, I asked her in joke, whether she would not buy the History of Tom Thumb? She told me" Yes." Upon which I asked her whether she would have it in folio, with marginal notes? To which she only said, "The best, the best.”

"The next I shall mention is Mrs D—, who has a bad face, and a worse tongue; and has the report of a Witch. Whether she be one or no, I know not, but she has ignorance and malice enough to make her

one.

And indeed she has done very odd things, but hitherto such as are rather strange than hurtful; yea, some of them are pretty and pleasing; but such as I think cannot be done without the help of the devil-as for instance, she will take nine sticks, and lay them across, and by mumbling a few words, make them all

stand up on end like a pair of nine-pins. But she had best have a care, for they that use the devil's help to make sport, may quickly come to do mischief. I have been told by some, that she has actually inden tured with the Devil; and that he is to do what she would have him for a time, and afterwards he is to have her soul in exchange! What pains poor wretches take to make sure of Hell!

"The next is Doll Sr, who used to come often to my Warehouse, and would plague my man Palmer more than all my customers besides. Her life is a perpetual contradiction; and she is made up of "I will," and "I will not." "Palmer, reach me that book, yet let it alone too; but let me see it, however, and yet it is no great matter neither;" was her constant dialect in my Warehouse. She is very fantastical; but cannot be called irresolute; for an irresolute person is always beginning, and she never makes an end; she writes, and

blots out again, whilst the other deliberates what to write. I know two nega

tives make an affirmative; but what her aye and no together makes, I know not; nor what to make of it, but that she knows not what to make of it herself. Her Head is just like a Squirrel's cage, and her Mind the Squirrel that whirls it round. She never looks towards the end, but only the beginning of things; for she will call in all haste for one, and have nothing to say to him when he is come; and long, nay die, for some toy or trifle; and when she has got it, grows weary of it presently. None knows where to have her a moment; and whosoever would hit her thoughts, must shoot flying.

"The next is Mrs H, who takes as much state upon her as would have served six of Queen Elizabeth's Countesses; and yet she is no Lady neither, unless it be of pleasure; yet she looks high, and speaks in a majestic tone, like one acting the Queen's part in a Play. She seldom appears twice in a shape; but every time she goes abroad, puts on a different garb. Had she been with the Israelites in the Wilderness, when for forty years their cloaths waxed not old, it had been punishment enough for her to have gone so long in one fashion. But, should this rustling Madam be stripped of her silken plumes, she would make but a very ordinary figure; for, to hide her age, she paints; and to hide her painting, dares hardly laugh; whence she has two counterfeit vizards to put off every night, her painting and her modesty. She was a good Customer to me, and whilst I took her money, I humoured her pride, and paid her (I blush to say it) a mighty observance. The chief books she bought were Plays aud Romances; which to set off the better, she would ask for books of Gallantry.

The next is Mrs T, whose tongue runs round like a wheel, one spoke after

another, for there is no end of it. She makes more noise and jangling than the bells do on a Coronation day. It is somebody's happiness that she is yet unmarried, for she would make a Husband wish either that she were dumb, or he were deaf. She used to come to my Warehouse, not to buy books (for she talked so much, she had no time to read), but that others might hear her talk; so that (I am apt to think) had she but the faculty of talking in her sleep, one might make the Perpetual Motion with her tongue.

these fair creatures, is interrupted now His stay in the city, adorned by and then by little journeys up the country; and he gives us very interesting sketches of all that he saw there, from the Indian chiefs and queens down to the entertainments given him by the Puritan Divines he visited in the back settlements-of one of these

reverend persons, Mr Aminadab Gery, he observes emphatically, "The Christian is devout-the preacher is primitive-he gave us a capital dinner." Another "Generous Levite," is uncle to "Mrs Comfort, who rode behind me this trip-a beautiful piece of luggage ;" and "testifies his joy to see his niece, by a fat pig and bowl of punch he gave us for supper."

After a stay of much greater length than he had anticipated, John Dunton returns to London; and he likens himself to Ulysses for the troubles he had undergone, although we cannot perceive many traces, except those of good eating and drinking, in his own acthink of coming unexpectedly into the count of his wanderings. He cannot presence of his Penelope-so he turned into the Queen's Head, Spitalfields, and sent word to her "there was a gentleman there who could tell some news of Philaret."

"About an hour after, Iris came; and at the first interview we stood speechless, and gazing upon each other, whilst Iris shed a flood of tears. At last we got our tongues at liberty; and then

"Embrac'd and talk'd, as meeting lovers would,

Who had the pangs of absence understood."

We left the Tavern, and went home to Dr Annesley's, where I was received with all the marks of kindness and respect.

At my return, I expected nothing but a golden life of it for the future, though all my satisfactions were soon withered; for, being so deeply entangled for my Sister-inlaw, I was not suffered to step over the threshold in ten months, unless it was once under disguise; and the story is this. My

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