the women in the company would have fallen sick that very night. An old maid, that is troubled with the vapours, produces infinite disturbances of this kind among her friends and neighbours. I know a maiden aunt of a great family, who is one of these antiquated Sibyls, that forebodes and prophecies from one end of the year to the other. She is always seeing apparitions, and hearing death-watches; and was the other day almost frighted out of her wits by the great house-dog, that howled in the stable at a time when she lay ill of the tooth-ach. Such an extravagant cast of mind engages multitudes of people, not only in impertinent terrors, but in supernumerary duties of life; and arises from that fear and ignorance which are natural to the soul of man. The horror with which we entertain the thoughts of death (or indeed of any future evil), and the uncertainty of its approach, fill a melancholy mind with innumerable apprehensions and suspicions, and consequently dispose it to the observation of such groundless prodigies and predictions. For as it is the chief concern of wise men to retrench the evils of life by the reasonings of philosophy, it is the employment of fools to multiply them by the sentiments of superstition. For my own part, I should be very much troubled were I endowed with this divining quality, though it should inform me truly of every thing than can befal me. I would not anticipate the relish of any happiness, nor feel the weight of any misery, before it actually arrives. I know but one way of fortifying my soul against these gloomy presages and terrors of mind, and that is, by securing to myself the friendship and protection of that Being who disposes of events, and governs futurity. He sees at one view, the whole thread of my existence; not only that part of it which I have already passed through, but that which runs forward into all the depths of eternity. When I lay me down to sleep, I recomme myself to his care; when I awake, I give myself up to his dir tion. Amidst all the evils that threaten me, I will look up to h for help, and question not but he will either avert them, or tu them to my advantage. Though I know neither the time nor t manner of the death I am to die, I am not at all solicitous abo it; because I am sure that he knows them both, and that he w not fail to comfort and support me under them. C. I SHALL here communicate to the world a couple of letters which I believe will give the reader as good an entertainment as any that I am able to furnish him, and therefore shall make no apology for them. 'SIR, 'TO THE SPECTATOR, &c. 'I AM One of the directors of the society for the reformation of manners, and therefore think myself a proper person for your correspondence. I have thoroughly examined the present state of religion in Great Britain, and am able to acquaint you with the predominant vice of every market-town in the whole island. I can tell you the progress that virtue has made in all our cities, boroughs, and corporations; and know as well the evil practices that are committed in Berwick or Exeter, as what is done in my own family. In a word, sir, I have my correspondents in the remotests parts of the nation, who send me up punctual accounts from time to time, of all the little irregularities that fall under their notice in their several districts and divisions. I am no less acquainted with the particular quarters and regions of this great town, than with the different parts and distributions of the whole nation. I can describe every parish by its impieties, and can tell you in which of our streets lewdness prevails, which gaming has taken the possession of, and where drunkenness has got the better of them both. When I am disposed to raise a fine for the poor, I know the lanes and allies that are inhabited by common swearers. When I would encourage the hospital of Bridewell, and improve the hempen manufacture, I am very well acquainted with all the haunts and resorts of female night-walkers. 'After this short account of myself, I must let you know, that the design of this paper is to give you information of a certain irregular assembly which I think falls very properly under your observation, especially since the persons it is composed of are criminals too considerable for the animadversions of our society. I mean, sir, the midnight mask, which has of late been very frequently held in one of the most conspicuous parts of the town, and which I hear will be continued with additions and improvements.1 As all the persons who compose this lawless assembly are masqued, we dare not attack any of them in our way, lest we should send a woman of quality to Bridewell, or a peer of Great Britain to the Counter; besides, their numbers are so very great, that I am afraid they would be able to rout our whole fraternity, though we were accompanied with all our guard of constables 1 V. Nos. 14-101-C. VOL. IV. -2* Both these reasons, which secure them from our authority, ma them obnoxious to yours; as both their disguise and their nu bers will give no particular person reason to think himself affro ed by you. If we are rightly informed, the rules that are observed this new society, are wonderfully contrived for the advanceme of cuckoldom. The women either come by themselves, or a introduced by friends, who are obliged to quit them, upon the first entrance, to the conversation of any body that address himself to them. There are several rooms where the parties ma retire, and, if they please, shew their faces by consent. 'Whispers, squeezes, nods, and embraces, are the innocen freedoms of the place. In short, the whole design of this libid nous assembly, seems to terminate in assignations and intrigues and I hope you will take effectual methods, by your public ad vice and admonitions, to prevent such a promiscuous multitud of both sexes from meeting together in so clandestine a manner I am Your humble servant, and fellow labourer, T. B.' Not long after the perusal of this letter, I received another upon the same subject; which, by the date and style of it, I take to be written by some young Templar. Middle Temple, 1710-11. 6 SIR, 'WHEN a man has been guilty of any vice or folly, I think the best atonement he can make for it, is to warn others not to fall into the like. In order to this, I must acquaint you, that some time in February last, I went to the Tuesday's masquerade. Upon my first going in, I was attacked by half a dozen female quakers, who seemed willing to adopt me for a brother; but, upon a nearer examination, I found they were a sisterhood of coquettes disguised in that precise habit. I was soon after taken out to dance, and, as I fancied, by a woman of the first quality, for she was very tall, and moved gracefully. As soon as the minuet was over, we ogled one another through our masques; and as I am very well read in Waller, I repeated to her the four following verses out of his poem of Vandyke. The heedless lover does not know Whose eyes they are that wound him so; Inquires her name that has his heart. I pronounced these words with such a languishing air, that I had some reason to conclude I had made a conquest. She told me that she hoped my face was not akin to my tongue; and looking upon her watch, I accidentally discovered the figure of a coronet on the back part of it. I was so transported with the thought of such an amour, that I plied her from one room to another with all the gallantries I could invent; and at length brought things to so happy an issue, that she gave me a private meeting the next day, without page or footman, coach or equipage. My heart danced in raptures; but I had not lived in this golden dream above three days, before I found good reason to wish that I had continued true to my laundress. I have since heard, by a very great accident, that this fine lady does not live far from Covent Garden, and that I am not the first cully whom she has passed herself upon for a countess. 'Thus, sir, you see how I have mistaken a cloud for a Juno; and if you can make any use of this adventure, for the benefit of those who may possibly be as vain young coxcombs as myself, I do most heartily give you leave. I am, Sir, Your most humble admirer, B. L.' |