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to him on a proper occasion, lest he, who can instruct as so well in personating seigned sorrows, should be lost to us by suffering under real one*. The town is at present in very great expectation of seeing a comedy now in rehearfal, which is the twenty-sifth production of myhonoured friend Mr. Thomas D'Urfey; who, besides hi* great abilities in the dramatic, has a peculiar talent in the lyric way of writing, and that with a manner wholly new and unknown to the ancient Greeks and Romans, wherein he is but faintly imitated in the translations of the modern Italian Operas.

St. James's Coffee-house, April 11.

Letters from the Hague of the sixteenth fay, that Major General Cadogan was gone to Brussels, with orders to disperse proper instructions sor assembling the whole sorce? of the Allies in Flanders, in the beginning of the next month. The late offers concerning peace were made in the stile of persons who think themselves npon equal terms: Bat the Allies have so just a sense of their present advantages, that they will not admit of a treaty, except France offers what is more suitable to her present condition. At the fame time we make preparations, as if we were alarmed by a greater sorce than that which we are carrying into the sield. Thus tliii poiiU feuis ntm to Its argued sword in hand. This was what a great General alluded to, when being asked the names of those W>kt were to be plenipotentiaries sor tile tnfaing peace, he answered with a serioos air, *' There arc about an hun"dred thoufand of us." Mr. Kidney, who has the ear of the greatest politicians that come hither, tells me, there is a mail come in to-day with letters, dated Hague, April the nineteenth N. S. which fay, a design of bringing part of our troops into the sield, at the latter end of this month, is now altered to a resolution of marching towards the camp about the twentieth of the next. There happened the other day, in the road of Scheveling, ani engagement between a privateer of Zteland and one of Dunkirk. The Dunkirker, carrying thirty-three piecesof cannon, was taken and brought into the Texel. It is said the cowier of Monsieur Rouille is returned to him

B $ front from the Court of France. Monsieur Vendosme, beirrg re-instated in the favour of the Duchess of Burgundy, ia to command in Flanders.

Mr. Kidney added, that there were letters of the seventeenth from Ghent, which give an account, that the enemy had sormed a design to surprise two battalions of the Allies which lay at Aloft: But those battalions received advice of their march, and retired to Dendermcnd. Lieutenant General Wood appeared on this flccasion at the head of sive hundred soot and one thoufand horse; upon which the enemy withdrew, without making any farther attempt.

From my own Apartment.

I am sorry I am obliged to trouble the Public with so much discourse upon a matter which I at the very sirst mentioned as a trifle, was thedeath of Mr. Partridge, wider whose name there is an Almanack come out sot the year 1709. In one page of which it is asserted by the faid John Partridge, that he is still living, and not only so, but that he was also living some time besore, and even at the instant when I writ of his death. I have in another place, and in a, " paper by itself, susficiently convinced this man that he is dead, and, if he has any shame, I do not doubt but that by this time he owns it to all his acquaintance: For though the legs and arms and whole body of that man may stillappear, aud perform their animal sunctions; yet since, as I have elsewhere observed, his art is gone, the man i» gone. I am, as I faid, concerned, that this little matter should make so much noise; but since I am engaged,. I take myself obliged in honour to go on in my Lucubrations, and by the help of those arts of which I amu master, as well as my skill in astrological specalations, I sball, as I see occasion, proceed to consute other dead men, who pretend to be in being, that they are actuallydeceased. I theresore give all men fair warning to amend their manners; sor I shall from time to time print bills-of Mortality: and I beg the pardon of all such who. siiall be named therein, if they who are good sor nothing jhall sind them.sel.vei in. the. number- of the deceased..

Thursday,, N* 2. Thursday, April 14, 1709.

Will's Coffee-house, April 13.

THERE has Iain all this evening on the table the following poem. The subject of it being matter very use/ul for families, I thought it deserved to be considered, and made more public. The turn the Poet gives it is very happy; but the foundation is from a real accident which happened among my acquaintance. A young Gentleman of a great estate sell desperately in love with a great Beauty of very high quality, but as ill-natured as long flattery and an habitual self-will could make her. However, my youngSpark ventures upon her like a man of quality, without being acquainted with her, or having ever faluted her until it was a crime to kiss any woman else. Beauty is a thing which palls with possession i and the charms of this Lady soon wanted the support of good humour and complacency of manners. Upon this, my Spark flies to the bottle for relief from his fatiety. She disdains him for being tired with that for which all men envied him; and he never came home, but it was—" Was there no Sot that would stay longer I "would any man living but you? did I leave all *' the world for this ufage?" to which he—"Madam, "split me, you are very impertinent!" In a word, this match was wedlock in its most terrible appearances. She, at last weary of railing to no purpose, applies to a good uncle, who gives her a bottle, he pretended he had bought of a conjurer. This, faid he, I gave ten guineas for. The Virtue of the inchanted Liquor (faid he that sold it) is such, that if the woman you marry proves a scold, (which, it seems, my dear niece, is your misfortune; as. it was your good mother's before you) let her hold three spoonsuls in her mouth for a sull half hour after you come home—But I sind I am not in huB 4 mour nrour sor telling a tale, and nothing in nature it so ingratesul as story-telling against the grain, therefore take it as the Author has given it you.

The Medicine.

A Tale—for the Ladies.

Miss Molly, a fam'd Toast, was fale,and young, Had wealth and charms—but then she had a tongue Sk* From morn to night th' eternal larum rung, Which often lost those hearts her eyes had won.

Sir John was smitten, and confess'd his flame,
Sigh'd out the usual time, then wed the dame;
Possess'd he thought of ev'ry joy of lise;
But his dear Molly prov'd a very wise.
Excess of fondness did in time decline,
Madam lov'd money, and the Knight lov'd wine.
From whence some petty discords would arise,
As, m you're a sool"—and, "you are mighty wise V*

Tho' he and all the world allow'd her wit.
Her voice was shrill, and rather loud than sweet;
When slie began—sor hat and sword he'd call,
Then after a faint kiss,—cry, B'y, dear Mall:
Supper and friends expect me at the Rose.
And, wbat Sir John, you'll get your usual dose I
Go, .stink of smoke, and guzzle nasty wine;
Sure, never virtuous love was us'd like mine!

Oft as the watchsul bell-man march'd his round,
At a fresh bottle gay Sir John he sound.
By sour the Knight would get his business done,
And only then reel'd off, because alone;
Full well he knew the dreadsul storm to come,
But arm'd with Bourdeaux, he durst venture horrp.

My Lady with her tongue was still prepar'd,
She rattled loud, and he impatient heard:
'Tis a sine hour! In a sweet pickle made!
And this, Sir John, is ev'ry day the trade.

. Here

Here I fit moping all the lire-long night,
Devour'd with spleen, and stranger to delight;
Till morn sends stagg'ring home a drunken beast,
Resolv'd to break my heart, as well as rest.

Hey t hoop ! d'ye hear my damn'd obstrep'rous spouse^
What, can't you sind one bed about the house i
Will that perpetual clack lie never still?
That rival to the softness of a mill f
Some couch and distant room must be my choice.
Where I may sleep uncurs'd with wise and noise.

Long this uncomfortable lise they led,
With snarling meals, and each a sep'rate bed.
To an old Uncle oft she would complain,
Beg his advice, and scarce from tears refrain.
Old Wisfuuod fmok'd the matter as it was,
Cheer up, cry'd he L and I'll remove the cause.

A wond'rous spring within my garden flows,
Of fov'reign virtue, chiefly to compose
Domestic jars, and matrimonial strise,
The best elixir t' appease man and wise?
Strange are th' effects, the qualities divine,
Tis water call'd, but worth its weight in wine,
if in his sullen airs Sir John should come.
Three spoonsuls take, hold in your mouth—then mum;
Smile, and look pleas'd, when he shall rage and scold,
Still in your mouth the healing cordial hold;
One month this sympathetic med'eine try'd.
He'll grow a lover, you a happy bride.
But, dearest niece, keep this grand secret close.
Or ev'ry pracling hussey 'ill beg a dose.

A \vater-bottlers brought for her relief;
Not Hants could sooner ease the Lady's grief:
Her busy thoughts are on the trial bent,
And, semale like, impatient for th' event !.

The bonny Knight reels home exceeding clear,
Frejpar'd for clamour and domestic war:

B 5 Ent'Eing>

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