and again veiled her face. Loud cries and clashing of arms immediately followed, which forced me from my charming vision, and drove me back to these mansions of care and sorrow.

***

Mr. Bickerstaff thanks Mr. Quarterstaff for his kind and instructive letter dated the 26th inst.

N° 9. SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 1709.

Quicquid agunt homines

nostri est farrago libelli.

Juv. Sat. i. 85, 86.

Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Our motley paper seizes for its theme.

Will's Coffee-house, April 28.

P.

THIS evening we were entertained with The Old Bachelor, a comedy of deserved reputation. In the character which gives name to the play, there is excellently represented the reluctance of a battered debauchee to come into the trammels of order and.decency: he neither languishes nor burns, but frets for love. The gentlemen of more regular behaviour are drawn with more spirit and wit, and the drama introduced by the dialogue of the first scene with uncommon, yet natural conversation. The part of Fondlewife is a lively image of the unseasonable fondness of age and impotence. But instead of such agreeable works as these, the town has for half an age been tormented with insects called Easy Writers, whose abilities Mr. Wycherly one day described excellently well in one word: "That," says he, " among these fellows is called Easy Writing, which any one may easily write:

Such janty scribblers are so justly laughed at for their sonnets on Phillis and Chloris, and fantastical descriptions in them; that an ingenious kinsman of mine, of the family of the Staffs, Mr. Humphrey Wagstaff by name, has, to avoid their strain, run into a way perfectly new, and described things exactly as they happen*: he never forms fields, or nymphs, or groves, where they are not; but makes the incidents just as they really appear. For an

example of it; I stole out of his manuscript the following lines: they are a description of the morning, but of the morning in town; nay, of the morning at this end of the town, where my kinsman at present lodges.

Now hardly here and there an hackney coach
Appearing, show'd the ruddy morn's approach.
Now Betty from her master's bed had flown,
And softly stole to discompose her own;
The slipshod 'prentice from his master's door,
Had par'd the street, and sprinkled round the floor:
Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dex'trous airs,
Prepar❜d to scrub the entry and the stairs.
The youth with broomy stumps began to trace
The kennel-edge, where wheels had worn the place.
The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep,
Till drown'd in shriller notes of chimney-sweep:
Duns at his Lordship's gates began to meet,
And brick-dust Moll had scream'd thro' half a street.
The turnkey now his flock returning sees,

Duly let out a'nights to steal for fees;

The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands,

And school-boys lag with satchels in their hands.

All that I apprehend is, that dear Numps will be angry I have published these lines; not that he has any reason to be ashamed of them, but for fear of those rogues, the bane to all excellent performances, the imitators. Therefore, before-hand, I bar all descriptions of the evening; as, a medley of

* Dr. Swift.

verses signifying grey peas are now cried warm; that wenches now begin to amble round the passages of the play-house; or of noon; as, that fine ladies and great beaux are just yawning out of their beds and windows in Pall-mall, and so forth. I forewarn also all persons from encouraging any draughts after my cousin; and foretell any man who shall go about to imitate him, that he will be very insipid. The family stock is embarked in this design, and we will not admit of counterfeits: Dr. Anderson* and his heirs enjoy his pills; Sir William Readt has the cure of eyes; and Monsieur Rosellit only can cure the gout. We pretend to none of these things; but to examine who and who are together, to tell any mistaken man he is not what he believes he is, to distinguish merit, and expose false pretences to it; is a liberty our family has by law in them, from an intermarriage with a daughter of Mr. Scogging, the famous droll of the last century. This right I design to make use of; but will not encroach upon the above-mentioned adepts, or any other. At the same time, I shall take all the privileges I may as an Englishman, and will lay hold of the late act of naturalization to introduce what I shall think fit from France. The use of that law may, I hope, be extended to people the polite world with new characters, as well as the kingdom itself with new subjects. Therefore, an author of that nation, called La Bruyere, I shall make bold with on such occasions: the last person I read of in that writer was Lord Timon. Timon, says my author, is the most generous of all men;

* Anderson was a Scotch physician in the reigns of Charles I. and Charles II.

The Queen's oculist. It is said that though he was wonderfully successful, he could neither read nor write.

Rosselli, sufficiently known from the Romance of his life, which was written by himself.

Scoggin was a buffoon in the reign of King James I.

but is so hurried away with that strong impulse of bestowing, that he confers benefits without distinction, and is munificent without laying obligations: for all the unworthy, who receive from him, have so little sense of this noble infirmity, that they look upon themselves rather as partners in a spoil, than partakers of a bounty. The other day, coming into Paris, I met Timon going out on horseback, attended only by one servant. It struck me with a sudden damp, to see a man of so excellent a disposition, and who understood making a figure so well, so much shortened in his retinue: but, passing by his house, I saw his great coach break to pieces before his door, and by a strange enchantment immediately turned into many different vehicles. The first was a very pretty chariot, into which stepped his Lordship's Secretary: the second was hung a little heavier; into that strutted the fat steward: in an instant followed a chaise, which was entered by the butler. The rest of the body and wheels were forthwith changed into go-carts, and run away with by the nurses and brats of the rest of the family. What makes these misfortunes in the affairs of Timon the more astonishing, is, that he has a better understanding than those who cheat him: so that a man knows not which more to wonder at; the indifference of the master, or the impudence of the servant.

White's Chocolate-house, April 29.

It is a matter of much speculation among the beaux and oglers, what it is that can have made so sudden a change, as has been of late observed, in the whole behaviour of Pastorella, who never sat still a moment till she was eighteen, which she has now exceeded by two months. Her aunt, who has the care of her, has not been always so rigid as she is at this present date; but has so good a sense of the frailty of woman, and falsehood of man, that

she resolved on all manner of methods to keep Pastorella, if possible, in safety, against herself and all her admirers. At the same time the good lady knew, by long experience, that a gay inclination, curbed too rashly, would but run to the greater excesses for that restraint; she therefore intended to watch her, and take some opportunity of engaging her insensibly in her own interests, without the anguish of an admonition. You are to know then, that Miss, with all her flirting and ogling, had also a strong curiosity in her, and was the greatest eaves-dropper breathing. Parisatis (for so her prudent aunt is called) observed this humour, and retires one day to her closet, into which she knew Pastorella would peep, and listen to know how she was employed. It happened accordingly; and the young lady saw her good governante on her knees, and, after a mental behaviour, break into these words: "As for the dear child committed to my care, let her sobriety of carriage, and severity of behaviour, be such as may make that noble Lord who is taken with her beauty, turn his designs to such as are honourable." Here Parisatis heard her niece nestle closer to the key-hole: she then goes on: "Make her the joyful mother of a numerous and wealthy offspring; and let her carriage be such, as may make this noble youth expect the blessings of an happy marriage, from the singularity of her life, in this loose and censorious age.' Miss, having heard enough, sneaks off for fear of discovery, and immediately at her glass alters the sitting of her head; then pulls up her tucker; and forms herself into the exact manner of Lindamira: in a word, becomes a sincere convert to every thing that is commendable in a fine young lady; and two or three such matches, as her aunt feigned in her devotions, are at this day in her choice. This is the history and original cause of Pastorella's conversion from coquetry. The prudence in the management of