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further torped that it would be a prejudice to the ladies themselves, who could never expect to have any money in the pocket, if they laid out so much on the petti. coat. To this I added, the great temptation it might give to viruins, of acting in security like married women, and by that incans give a check to matrimony, an institution always encouraged by wise societies.
At the same time, in answer to the several petitions produced on that side, I showed one subscribed by the women of several persons of quality, humbly setting forth that, since the introduction of this mode, their resportive ladies had, instead of bestowing on them their cast gowns, cut them into shreds, and mixed them with the cordage and buckram, to complete the stiffening of their under petticoats. For which, and sundry other reasons, I pronounced the petticoat a forfeiture: but to show that I did not make that judgment for the sake of filthy Jucre, I ordered it to be folded up, and sent it as a present to a widow gentlewoman who has five daughters; desiring she would make each of them a petticoat out of it, and send me bark the remainder, which I design to cut into stomachers, caps, facings of my waistcoat-sleeves, and other garnitures suitable to 'my age and quality.
I would not be understood that, while I discard this monstrous invention, I am an enemy to the proper ornaments of the fair sex. On tlic contrary, as the hand of nature haz poured on them such a profusion of charms and graces, and sent them into the world more ariable and finished than the rest of her works; so I would have them bestow upon themselves all the additioval beautics that art can supply them with, provi-> ded it does not interfere with, disguise, or pervert those of nature. I consider woman as a bcautiful romantic animal,
that may be adorned with furs and feathers, pearls and diamonds, ores and silks. The lynx shall cast its skin at her feet to make her a tippet; the peacock, parrot, and shall pay contributions to her muff; the sea shall be searched for shells, and the rocks for gems; and every part of nature furnish out its share towards the embellishment of a creature that is the most consummate work of it. All this I shall indulge them in; but as for the petticoat I have been speaking of, I neither can nor will allow it.
STORY. No. 117. I was once myself in agonies of grief that are unutterable, and in so great a distraction of mind that I thought myself even out of the possibility of receiving comfort. The occasion was as follows: When I was a youth in a part of the army which was then quartered at Dover, I fell in love with an agreeable young woman, of a good family in those parts, and had the satisfaction of seeing my addresses kindly received, which occasioned the perplexity I am going to relate.
We were in a calm evening diverting ourselves upon the top of the cliff with the prospect of the sea, and trifling away the time in such little fondnesses as are most ridiculous to people in business, and most agreeable to those in love. In the midst of these our innocent endearments, she
of verses out of my hand, and ran away with them. I was following her; when on a sudden the ground, though at a considerable distance from the verge of the precipice, sunk under her, and threw VOL. I,
snatched a paper
her down from so prodigioas a height, upon such a range of rocks, as would have dashed her into ten thoi. sand pieces had her body been marle of adamant. It is much easier for my reader to imagine my state of mind upon such an occasion, than for me to express it. I said to myself, It is not in the power of heaven to relieve me! when I awaked, equally transported and astonished, to see myself drawn out of an amiction which, the very moment before, appeared to me altogether inextricable.
The impressions of grief and horror were so lively on this occasion, that, while they lasted, they made me more miserable than I was at the real death of this beloved person, which happened a few months after, at a time when the match between us was concluded; inasmuch as the imaginary death was untimely, and I myself in a short an accessary ; whereas her real decease had at least these alleviations, of being natural and inevitable.
STORY-TELLING CLUB. No. 132. Arter having applied my mind with more than or. dinary attention to my studies, it is my usual custom to relax and unbend it in the conversation of such as are rather easy than shining companions. This I find particularly necessary for me before I retire to rest, in order to draw my slumbers upon me by degrees, and fall asleep insensibly. This is the particular use I make of a set of heavy honest men, with whom I have passed many hours with much indolence, though not with great pleasure. Their conversation is a kind of 6
preparative for sleep: it takes the mind down from its abstractions, leads it into the familiar traces of thought, and lulls it into that state of tranquillity which is the condition of a thinking man when he is but half awake. After this, my reader will not be surprised to hear the account which I am about to give of a club of my own contemporaries, among whom I pass two or three hours every evening. This I look upon as taking my first nap before I go to bed. The truth of it is, I should think myself unjust to posterity, as well as to the society at the Trumpet, of wbich I am a member, did not I in some part of my writings give an account of the persons among whom I have passed almost a sixth
time for these last forty years. Our club consisted originally of fifteen ; but partly by the severity of the law in arbitrary times, and partly by the natural effects of old age, we are at present reduced to a third part of that number: in which however we have this consolation, that the best company is said to consist of five persons. I must confess, besides the afore-mentioned benefit which I meet with in the conversation of this select society, I am not the less pleased with the company, in that I find myself the greatest wit among them, and am heard as their oracle in all points of learning and difficulty.
Sir Jeoffrey Notch, who is the oldest of the club, has been in possession of the right-hand chair time out of mind, and is the only man among us that has the liberty of stirring the fire. This our foreman is a gentleman of an antienț family, that came to a great estate some years before he had discretion, and run it out in hounds, horses, and cock-fighting; for which reason he looks upon himself as an honest, worthy gen
tleman, who has had misfortunes in the world, and cally every thriving man a pitiful upstart.
Major Matchlock is the next senior, who served in the last civil wars, and has all the battles by heart. He does not think any action in Europe worth talking of since the fylt of Marston-Moor; and every night tells 11s of his having been knocked off his horse at the rising of the London apprentices; for which he is in great esteem among us.
Honest old Dick Replile is the third of our society. Ile is a good-natured indolent man, who speaks little himself, but laughs at our jokes; and brings his young nephew along with him, a youth of eighteen years old, to show him good company, and give him a taste of the world. This young fellow sits generally silent; but whenever he opens his mouth, or langhs at any thing that passes, he is constantly told by his uncle, after a jocular marmer, “Ay, ay, Jack, you young men think us fools : but we old men know
are.' The greatest wit of our company, next to myself, is a bencher of the neighbouring inn, who in his youth frequented the ordinaries about Charing-cross, and pretends to have been intimate with Jack Ogle. He has about ten distichs of Iludibras without book, and never leaves the club until he has applied them all. If any modern wit be mentioned, or any town frolic spoken of, he shakes his head at the dullness of the present age, and tells us a story of Jack Ogle.
For my own part, I am esteemed among them, because they see I am something respected by others; though at the same time I understand by their beha. viour, that I am considered by them as a man of a great deal of learning, but no knowledge of the world;