From an Apprentice to his Friends, in Praise of his Master and Family.

Honoured Sir,

I Know it will be a great Satisfaction to you and my dear Mother, to hear that I go on very happily in my Business; and my Master seeing my Diligence, puts me forward, and encourages me in such a manner, that I have great Delight in it, and hope I shall answer in time your good Wishes and Expectations, and the Indulgence which you have always shewn me. There is such good Order in the Family, as well on my Mistress's Part as my Master’s, that every Servant, as well as I, knows their Duty, and does it with Pleasure. So much Evenness, Sedateness, and Regularity,is observed in all they injoin and expect, that it is impossible but it should be so. My Master is an honest worthy Man; every body speaks well of him. My Mistress is a chearful sweet-temper’d Woman, and rather heals Breaches than widens them. And the Children, after such Examples, behave to us all, like one's own Brothers and Sisters. Who can but love such a Family? I wish, when it shall please God to put me in such a Station, that I may carry myself just as my Master does; and if I should ever marry, have just such a Wife as my Mistress: And then, by God's Blessing, I shall be as happy as they are; and as you, Sir, and my dear Mother, have always been. If any thing can make me still happier than I am, or continue to me my present Felicity, it will be the Continuance of yours, andmy good Mother's Prayers, for, honour’d Sir and Madam,

Your ever dutiful Son.

The Master's Answer.

John,

Your Letter has affected me so much, that I am willing once more to pass over all you have done.Surely I may at last depend on these your solemn Assurances, and, as I hope, deep Contrition. If not, be it as you say, and let your Letter testify against you for your ingrateful Baseness; and for me, in my Readiness (which however shall be the last time) to forgive one that has been so much used to promise, and so little to perform. But I hope for better, because I yet wish you well; being, as you use me,

Yours, or otherwise.

From a Lady to her false Lover, who after having brav’d all his Friends Expostulations, at last is persuaded to abandon her for another of larger Fortune.

SIR,

’Tis a poor, a very poor Pretence that you make, after what has passed between us, that you must, in Compliance with the Commands of your Friends, break off Acquaintance with me! How often have I advised you to this formerly! How often have you vow’d the Impossibility of your doing it? How have you, in pursuance of this Avowal, brav’d your Friends, and defy’d their Resentments, in such a manner, that gave them no Hope of succeeding with you! tho’ I always blam’d your disobliging way of doing it, in regard to them, as your Relations. But just as you had brought them to expect you would not be prevail’d upon, and they had so far acquiesced in your Choice, that I had received and returned Visits from the Principals of your Family, for you poorly to plead their Menaces, is such a Jest, as is not to be received without Contempt and Indignation.

Well, I can guess at your Motives!—tho’ you are too mean-spirited to acknowledge them, and that they are too mean to be acknowledged. Miss Holles can explain them all, by the Help of a larger Fortune than I have! I have heard of your Uncle's Proposal, and your Visit there.—Go on, Sir, and welcome! I have Spirit enough to despise the Man that could deceive me.—But could you not, for your own sake act this perfidious Part in a more manly and more worthy manner? Could you not find a better Reason than one you had always rejected, when it was more your Duty to observe it? But must you, when your Vows to me had made it your Duty to dispense with it, then shew your Levity in adhering to it? Yet why do I expostulate with a Person so little deserving Expostulation? You may think me angry, because of my Disappointment. ‘Tis true, it is a Disappointment, and I had a better Opinion of you than this Conduct shews you deserved; or Things should never have proceeded so far as they did. But ‘tis a Disappointment, I hope, (tho’ no Thanks to any Part of your Conduct, but your Meanness)1I shall soon get over.

On the same Occasion.

Good Sir,

I have received with great Delight, the good News of your Recovery from the dangerous Illness with which it pleased God to afflict you. I most heartily congratulate you and your good Lady and Family upon it; and make it my Prayer, That your late Indisposition may be succeeded by such a Renewal of Health and Strength both of Body and Mind, as may make your Life equally happy to yourself, as it must be to all who have the Pleasure to know you. I could not help giving you this Trouble, to testify the Joy that affected my Heart on the Occasion; and to assure you, that I am, with the greatest Affection and Respect, Sir,

Your faithful humble Servant.

From a Gentleman to his Lady, whose Over-niceness in her House, and uneasy Temper with her Servants, make their Lives uncomfortable.

My Dear,

Your kind Concern for my Absence is very obliging. ‘Tis true, I have already out-stay’d my Intention by a Week; and I find the Place I am in so very engaging, and Mr. Terry and his Sister so agreeable, that, but to come to you, I could willingly stay a Month longer with them. In short, my Dear, Mr. Terry lives just as I would wish to live; and his Sister, who is his House-keeper, is just what I would wish you to be, in many Particulars; tho’ no one, in my Opinion, can equal you in others.

You must know then, that Mr. Terry and I are quite happy in one another; and when he has no Visitors, are indulg’d in a very pretty Parlour, which neither Pail nor Mop is permitted to enter for two or three Days together. And when we have Company, the Dining-room is at our Service, and the kind Lady lets us smoak there without remarking upon the beastly Fumes that we give the Furniture. Not only so, but if, by a sudden Turn of the Pipe, any one of us chances to bestrew the Floor with burnt Tobacco,we are not broken in upon either by Maid or Broom. And yet no Room can be cleaner than we find that, when we return to it from a Walk in the Gardens.

And indeed, I must acquaint you, that I never saw a Lady more prudently nice than Mrs. Terry.Her Person, Furniture, and House, are even Patterns of Neatness and good OEconomy. I never any-where saw the one or the other out-done. Yet how can this be, I marvel!—For I have seen her pass over the Mark of a dirty Shoe-heel, upon a Floor as white as a Curd, and never once rank the Aggressor among the worst of Slovens. Nay,more than mthat, I have seen her Brother drop a few Crums of Bread and Butter under his Feet, without so much as one corrective Frown? Is not this strange, my Dear? Have Batchelors, from a Sister, more Privileges, than a marry’d Man from his Wife?

From the same: Describing her fluttering Pretender.

Honoured Madam,

I now give you some Account of the Captain. He is a handsome Person of a Man, of a good Family: Heir to a good Estate: Dresses well, sings well, dances well—So much for his good Qualities. As for his others; he is insufferably vain; talkative; is always laughing, especially at what he says himself; and, sometimes, at the Conceit of what he is going to say, before he speaks: He has such an undaunted Assurance, that there is no such thing as putting him out of Countenance. One Instance I’ll give you—He is always admiring himself in the Glass; insomuch that while he is in the Room, I cannot peep into one without staring him in the Face; and one Day rallying him on this, I ask’d him how the Glasses were fixed in a Camp? He reply’d, without Hesitation, O Madam! the Care our Generals take to pitch our Tents by the Banks of some transparent Stream, serves very well for that Purpose. And then he laugh’d most egregiously for five or six Minutes together.

You may believe, Madam, from what I have said, that I give no great Encouragement to his Visits. Yet is there no such thing as getting rid of him; for by all his Conduct, I plainly see, he has swallow’d the ridiculous Opinion, that the more averse a Woman appears to a Man's Addresses, the more Ground he has to expect Success; and he seems so assured of winning me, that I begin to be apprehensive, every time he puts his Hand in his Pocket, that he will pull out a Licence and a Ring—If I admit him into my Company, I know not how to get rid of him. If I cause myself to be deny’d, he plants himself directly against my Window, that the whole Neighbourhood may know his Business: Thus, with or without my Consent, he will be either thought my reigning Admirer, or he will, Don Quixote like, have me for his Dulcinea, in spite of my Teeth.

His Reply, urgently inforcing, but not compelling, her Compliance with his Desire.

Dear Polly,

I am far from taking amiss what you have written, in Answer to my Recommendation ofmy worthy Friend Mr. Rowe; and I amsure, if I was to shew him your Letter, he would never permit you to be urged more on this Head. But, my Dear, I own my Wishes and my Heart are engaged in his, shall I say, or in your own Favour? And I would hope, that notwithstanding all you have written, your good Sense, and that Discretion for which you have been hitherto so deservedly noted, may, on mature Reflection, enable you to overcome the Objection that would be insuperable to lighter and airier Minds of your Sex.

Such is the Profligateness of the Generality of young Fellows of the present Age, that I own I look into the World with Affrightment, at the Risques which a virtuous young Woman has to encounter with on a Change of Condition, which makes me dwell upon the Point with the greater Earnestness. And you know, my Dear, I can have no Motive but your Good.

Then, Child, consider the Reputation this Match, to all who know Mr. Rowe's Worth, will bring to your Prudence, and even to your Sex. For it is as much Credit to a young Lady to marry a worthy Man, older than herself, as it is Discredit for an old Woman to marry a young Man. Does my Polly take my Meaning? The Case is plain. Besides, no-body thinks Ten or Twelve Years Difference in a Man's Age any thing out of the way. So, my Dear, it is not Twenty Years Odds; it is only Ten at most.

Then, again, he is a good-natur’d Man; there's a great deal in that, you know.

To be sure,my Dear, it is my good Opinion of your Prudence, thatmakes me endeavour to persuade you to this. And I could be glad, methinks, to find, that I have not too high a Notion of your Discretion, in the Preference I am willing to give it to that of all the young Ladies I know.

The Answer, excusing the Pain he had given his Friend by his Remissness.

Dear Sir,

I will attend you this Afternoon with the Money, which I had always great Pleasure in the Thought of supplying you with; and I am most heartily vexed with myself, for giving you the Pain and Uneasiness that must have attended a Mind so punctual as yours, and in a Case so critically circumstanced. But I hope you’ll forgive me, tho’ I can hardly forgive myself. I am, Sir, as well on this, as on any other Occasion in my Power,

Your sincere Friend and Servant.

From a Father to a Son, on his Negligence in his Affairs.

Dear Jemmy,

You cannot imagine what a Concern your Carelessness and indifferent Management of your Affairs give me. Remissness is inexcusable in all Men, but in none so much as in a Man of Business, the Soul of which is Industry, Diligence, and Punctuality.

Let me beg of you to shake off the idle Habits you have contracted; quit unprofitable Company, and unseasonable Recreations, and apply to your Compting-house with Diligence. It may not be yet too late to retrieve your Affairs. Inspect therefore your Gains, and cast up what Proportion they bear to your Expences; and then see which of the latter you can, and which you cannot contract. Consider, that when once a Man suffers himself to go backward in the World, it must be an uncommon Spirit of Industry that retrieves him, and puts him forward again.

Reflect, I beseech you, before it be too late, upon the Inconveniencies which an improverish’d Trader is put to, for the Remainder of his Life; which, too, may happen to be the prime Part of it; the Indignities he is likely to suffer from those whose Money he has unthinkingly squander’d; the Contempt he will meet with from all, not excepting the idle Companions of his Folly; the Injustice he does his Family, in depriving his Children, not only of the Power of raising themselves, but of living tolerably; and how, on the contrary, from being born to a creditable Expectation, he sinks them into the lowest Class of Mankind, and exposes them to the most dangerous Temptations. What has not such a Father to answer for! and all this for the sake of indulging himself in an idle, a careless, a thoughtless Habit, that cannot afford the least Satisfaction, beyond the present Hour, if in that; and which must be attended with deep Remorse, when he comes to reflect. Think seriously of these Things, and in time resolve on such a Course as may bring Credit to yourself, Justice to all you deal with, Peace and Pleasure to your own Mind, Comfort to your Family; and which will give at the same time the highest Satisfaction to

Your careful and loving Father.

Jan. 17, 1735–6.

To steward St John, steward St John's Gate,

Who meets to sup on monday night at eight.

Dear sons of Phoebus, darlings of the nine,

Henceforth, thro’ you, how will the printers shine,

Who ne’er, without the muse, shall meet to sup or dine!

Blessings, say I, attend your rhyming pen,

No king John’s, sure, e’er equal’d saint John's men!

But, tell me, friends, nor blush, nor be afraid

To own the truth—had you no third man's aid?

Speak out, like men—to make the verse run sweeter,

Did not some mild-beer Bellman tag the metre?

If so, I pray, invite the honest fellow,

Let him partake the praise, and make him mellow.

Perpetual stewards, may you voted be;

No less such verse deserves—perpetual poet he!

For me; I’m much concern’d I cannot meet

“At salutation-tavern, Newgate-street.”

Your notice, like your verse (so sweet and short!)

If longer, I’d sincerely thank’d you for’t.

Howe’er, receive my wishes, sons of verse!

May every man who meets, your praise rehearse!

May mirth, as plenty, crown your chearful board,

And ev’ry one part happy—as a lord!

That when at home, (by such sweet verses fir’d)

Your families may think you all inspir’d!

So wishes he, who, pre-ingag’d, can't know

The pleasures that wou’d from your meeting flow.

S.R.

From a Maid-servant in Town, acquainting her Father and Mother in the Country, with a Proposal of Marriage, and asking their Consents.

Honoured Father and Mother,

I think it my Duty to acquaint you, that I am addressed to for a Change of Condition, by one Mr. John Tanner, who is a Glazier, and lives in the Neighbourhood by us. He is a young Man of a sober Character, and has been set up about two Years, has good Business for his Time, and is well beloved and spoken of by every one. My Friends here think well of it, particularly my Master and Mistress; and, he says, he doubts not, by God's Blessing on his Industry, to maintain a Family very prettily: And I have fairly told him, how little he has to expect with me. But I would not conclude on any thing, however, till I had acquainted you with his Proposals, and asked your Blessings and Consents. For I am, and ever will be,

Your dutiful Daughter.

The Arguments that have been of late produced against Christianity, are far from being New, except as to the indecent Manner in which they have been reviv’d. This indeed must be confess’d to be intirely New, and seems reserv’d for the Apostates of the present Age: While some bold Minds have revived the Doctrines of Arius, another has gone beyond Julian the Apostate Emperor, in his Insults on the Holy Jesus; and the most absurd of the Heathen Systems of Religion was never treated in so shocking, so ungentlemanly, so scurrilous a Manner, as the Gospel of Christ. As to the rest, the Arguments of late produc’d by the Adversaries to the Christian Faith, are but a Collection of the old exploded (and as often refuted as revived) Doctrines of the Heretics of past Ages.

But for the Sake of such of our Readers, as may not have Leisure or Opportunity to peruse what has been publish’d of most Importance on this Subject, we will summarily touch upon the principal Objections which have been made against the Gospel, and against the Resurrection of our Saviour, which is the Point the Infidels have levelled all their Artillery against, and is the fundamental Article of the Christian Faith, on which all the rest depend. And afterwards we shall bring undeniable Arguments, as we hope, in Defence of Christianity, and to prove, that Reason is not inconsistent with Revelation; and lastly, produce Evidences, as well from Pagan as other Authorities, to prove the Truth of the Christian Dispensation.

To begin with the Objections that have been made to invalidate the Gospel History, Mr. Woolston asserts (p. 65.) “That the Four Gospels are, in no Part, a literal Story; but a System of Mystical Philosophy, or Theology: That the History of Jesus's Life, as recorded by the Evangelists, is an Emblematical Representation of his Spiritual Life in the Soul of Man; and his continued Miracles, Figures of his more mysterious Operations.”

The following impious Paragraph will shew the Consistency of this Scoffer, if compar’d with the above; for here he treats those Gospels, not as a System of Mystical Theology, but as a vile Cheat and Imposture .

From the same.

Account of Westminster-Abbey continued.

Honoured Madam,

I now trouble you with an Account of what most struck my Attention in the outward Ayles of Westminster-Abbey.

At entering the North-gate, a Monument of prodigious Size, and great Expence, stood on my Left-hand: It is that of John Holles late Duke of Newcastle, and all that is left him, out of upwards of 50000 l. a Year, as they tell me he had accumulated, and the two Heirs not much the richer for their Shares of it neither. I hope, as we say in our Country Phrase, it was honestly got.

Next to this is one consecrated to the Memory of the Duke that preceded him, the last of his Name of the Cavendish Family, as the other was of the Holles; with the celebrated Lady, his Duchess Margaret, a great Writer, and a great Chymist, (you know we have her Olio) both lying Side by Side, on a Tomb made great by their Names, and distinguished by their Adventures; but as to outward Grandeur, wholly eclipsed by the former. Behind these is a large Room, or little Chapel, separated from the publick Places, in which are reposited the Holles Family. One of these Gentlemen has at his Feet the Representation of a wild Boar, in Token of his having killed one of those Animals, when he was on a Croisade. Another has a large black Patch over his Right-eye, having lost an Eye on the like Expedition. Not far from hence, a fine Monument stands, to the Memory of Dr. Chamberlen, a Man-midwife, of no great Fame when living, but who happened to have the Esteem of the present Duchess of Buckingham, who erected this to his Memory.

A magnificent Monument stands near this, of a Lady, whose Name is Carteret; and some Reports assign an odd Cause for her Death; viz. the late French King's saying, A Lady one of his Nobles compared to her, was the handsomest of the two.

A fine Monument of Lord Courcey stands near this; on which, we are told, One of his Ancestors had a Privilege granted, of wearing his Hat before the King—Here are several Monuments of Gentlemen who fell in the late Wars; Col.

Against a young Lady's affecting manly Airs; and also censuring the modern Riding-habits.

Dear Betsey,

The Improvement that is visible in your Person, since your going to Bury, gives me much Pleasure; and the dawning of fine Sense, and a good Judgment, that discovers itself in your Conversation, makes me hope to see every Perfection of my Sister, your late excellent Mother, revived in you.

Yet one thing the Duty of a tender Uncle obliges me to blame in you; and that is, a certain Affectation that of late obtains in your Behaviour, of imitating the Manners of the other Sex, and appearing more masculine than either the amiable Softness of your Person or Sex can justify.

I have been particularly offended, let me tell you, my Dear, at your new Riding-habit; which is made so extravagantly in the Mode, that one cannot easily distinguish your Sex by it. For you neither look like a modest Girl in it, nor an agreeable Boy.

Some Conformity to the Fashion is allowable. But a cock’d Hat, a lac’d Jacket, a Fop's Peruke, what strange Metamorphoses do they make! And then the Air assumed with them, so pert, and so insipid, at the same time, makes, upon the whole, such a Boy-girl Figure, that I know of nothing that would become either the Air, or the Dress, but a young Italian Singer. For such an one, being neither Man nor Woman, would possibly be best distinguished by this Hermaphrodite Appearance.

In short, I would have you remember, my Dear, that as sure as any thing intrepid, free, and in a prudent Degree bold, becomes a Man; so whatever is soft, tender, and modest, renders your Sex amiable. In this one Instance we do not prefer our own Likeness; and the less you resemble us, the more you are sure to charm: For a masculine Woman is a Character as little creditable as becoming.

I am no Enemy to a proper Presence of Mind in Company; but would never have you appear bold, talkative, or assured. Modesty in the outward Behaviour, is a strong Prepossession in a Lady's Favour; and, without it, all your Perfections will be of little Service, either as to Reputation or Preferment. You want not Sense: and, I hope, will take kindly these well-intended Hints from

Your affectionate Uncle.

Lady to a Gentleman of superior Fortune, who, after a long Address in an honourable way, proposes to live with her as a Gallant.

SIR,

Aftermany unaccountable Hesitations, and concealed Meanings, that your Mind seem’d of late big with, but hardly knew how to express, you have, at last, spoken out all your Mind; and I know what I am to trust to! I have that Disdain of your Proposal that an honest Mind ought to have. But I wish, for my own sake, (and I will say, for yours too, because your Honour is concerned in it so deeply) that I had had, at my first Acquaintance with you, such an Instance of your Plain-dealing, or rather Baseness: Then I should have had no Regret in letting you know how much I scorn’d the Proposer, and the Proposal: Tho’ I hope, as it is, a little Time and Reflection will make me, for the sake of the latter, abhor the former.

However, Sir, Imust say, you are very cruel to useme thus, after you had, by all the alluring Professions of an honourable Love, inspired me with a grateful Return, and brought me to the Freedom of owning it——Nor yet will I be an Hypocrite, or deny my honest Passion; for that would be to lessen your Guilt. God is my Witness, I loved you beyond all your Sex; yet I loved you virtuously; I loved you because I thought you virtuous. And now, tho’ it may take some Time, and too much Regret, to get over, yet do I hope, your Behaviour will enable me to conquer my fond Folly.

Ungenerous Man! to take Advantage of your superior Fortune to insult me thus, when you had gain’d my Affections! What, tho’ I am not blessed with a worldly Circumstance equal to what you might expect in a Wife, can you think my Mind so base as to submit to be yours on unworthy Terms? Go, unworthy Man, and make your Court to Miss Reynolds, as you seem to threaten. She has a Fortune equal to your own, and may you be happy together! I should have been so, had I never known you. I never deceived you: You knew my scanty Fortune, and yet pretended to prefer me to all my Sex.

The afflicted Father, in Answer to the preceding.

Dear Brother,

You are very kind in your Intention, yet very affecting in your just Reproofs of my misplaced Fondness for a Creature so unworthy. Resignation to the Divine Will, a noble, a needful Lesson! is the Doctrine you raise from it. God give it me, as I ought to have it. Time and His Grace, I hope, will effect it. But at present——Oh! Brother! you know not how I set my Heart on this Wretch. That was my Crime, you’ll say: And ‘tis but just it should be my Punishment. Do you, as you please, in what you propose. I desire not the ingrateful Creature should want, yet let her too be pinch’d: Nothing else will make her sensible of her great Offence——But don't let her be precipitated on any worse Fate, if a worse can be possible, as it may with regard to another Life. Yet let not her Seducer be the better for the Assistance. He shall never riot in my Substance. Let me know what you have done three Months hence; that I may retrench, or add to what you shall advance, as I shall see her Behaviour. I say in three Months, for another Reason: because I may by that time, I hope, get more Strength of Mind and Patience, than at present possesses the Heart of

Your ever-affectionate Brother.

The Landlord's Answer.

Mr. Jacobs,

I have yours: I hope you’ll be as good as your Word at the Expiration of the Time you have mentioned. I am unwilling to distress any honest Man; and I hope, that I shall not meet with the worse Usage for my Forbearance. For Lenity abused, even in generous Tempers, provokes Returns, that some People would call severe; but should not be deemed such, if just. I am

Yours, &c.