no body else can discover, I think I have reafonable Foundation enough for my Paffion; there is fomething, I know not where to fix it, 'tis not in your Face or Shape, or Mien, or Air, or any Part of your Body; much lefs in your Mind; but fomething that is fo very agreeable; fomething I know not what, nor where, fo bewitching, that 'tis not in my Power to defend my Heart against you. Perhaps the malicious World will fay you are old; but we know old Wine intoxicates more than new; and an aged Oak is ftronger than a young one. 'Tis with your La

dyfhip's Beauty, as with old Buildings when they fall, they destroy with their Ruins. As I profess myself an Admirer of Antiquity, by Confequence I fhould have no small Paffion for your Ladyship for I muft tell you, Madam, there are finer Fragments of Antiquity in your Face, than any Greece or Italy can boast of; and more Beauty lies bury'd in one Wrinkle of yours, than in the Ruins of the most stately Arches, or moft magnificent Temples. You cannot therefore queftion the Sincerity of my Profeffion, when I tell you I am, Madam, with all Reality,

Your Ladyship's most passionate Adorer,

and most obedient humble Servant.

LETTER XCV.

To Dr. Garth.

WH Hether your Letter or your Prefcription has made me well, I proteft I cannot tell; but thus much I can fay, that as the one was the most naufeous Thing I ever knew, fo the other

Was

was the moft entertaining. I would gladly afcribe my Cure to the laft; and if fo, your Practice will become fo universal, you must keep a Secretary as well as an Apothecary.

The Obfervations I have made, are these, that your Prescription ftaid not long with me, but your Letter has, especially that Part of it where you told me I was not altogether out of your Memory: you'll find me much alter'd in every thing when you fee me, but in my Efteem for yourfelf; I, that was as lank as a Crane, when I left you at London, am now as plump as an Ortolan. I have left off my falfe Calves, and had yesterday a great Belly laid to me. A facetious Widow, who is my Confident in this Affair, fays, you ought to father the Child; for he that lends a Man a Sword, is in fome Part acceffary to the Mischief done with it; however, I'll forgive you the Inconvenience you've put me to. I believe, you were not aware you were giving Life to two People. Pray let me have a confolatory Letter from you upon this new Calamity; for nothing can be fo welcome, excepting Rain, in this fandy Country where we live. The Widow faith, the refolves to be fick, on purpose to be acquainted with you: but I tell her, fhe'll relifh your Prefcriptions better in full Health and if at this Diftance, you can do her no Service, pray prefcribe her

Your bumble Servant,

T. M.

LET

From a Gentleman who attended the Duke of Wharton Abroad.

I

Dear Sir,

Am just returned from the Gates of Death, to return you Thanks for your laft kind Letter of Accufations, which I am perfuaded was intended as a seasonable Help to my Recollection, at a Time when it was neceffary for me to fend an Inquifitor-General into my Confcience, to examine and fettle all the Abuses that ever were. committed in that little Court of Equity. But I affure you, your long Letter did not lay fo much: my Faults, as my Misfortunes before me, which: believe me, dear -, have fallen as heavy and as thick as the Shower of Hail upon us two in E- Foreft, and has left me as much at a Lofs which way to turn myself. The Pilot of the Ship I embark'd in, who industrioufly ran upon every Rock, has at laft fplit the Veffel; and fo much of a fudden, that the whole Crew, I mean his Domestics, are all left to fwim for their Lives, without one friendly Plank to afsist them to Shore. In short, he left me fick, in debt, and without a Penny; but, as I begin to recover, and have a little Time to think, I can't help confidering myfelf as one whisk'd up behind a Witch upon a Broomstick, and hurried over Mountains and Dales, through confused Woods and thorny Thickets, and when the Charm is ended, and the poor Wretch dropp'd in a Defart, he can give no other Account of his enchanted Travels, but that he is much fatigued VOL. II. I

in

in Body and Mind, his Clothes torn, and worfe in all other Circumftances, without being of the leaft Service to himself or any body elfe; but I will follow your Advice, with an active Refolution to retrieve my bad Fortune, and almoft a Year miferably mifpent.

But, notwithstanding what I have suffered, and what my Brother Madman had done to undo himself, and every body who was fo unlucky as to have the least Concern with him, I could not but be movingly touched at fo extraordinary Viciffitude of Fortune, to fee a great Man fallen from that fhining Light, in which I beheld him in the House of Lords, to fuch a Degree of Obfcurity, that I have observed the meaneft Commoner here decline, and the few he would fometimes fasten on, to be tired of his Company; for you know he is but a bad Orator in his Cups, and of late has been but feldom fober.

A Week before he left Paris, he was fo reduced, that he had not one fingle Crown at Command, and was forced to thruft in with any Acquaintance for a Lodging. Walsh and I have had him by turns, all to avoid a Crowd of Duns, which he had of Sizes from fourteen hundred Livres to four, who hunted him so close, that he was forced to retire to fome of the neighbouring Villages for Safety. I, fick as I was, hurried about Paris to raise Money, and to St. Germains to get him Linen. I brought him one Shirt and a Cravat, with which, and five hundred Livres, his whole Stock, he and his Dutchefs, attended by one Servant, fet out for Spain. All the News that I have heard of them fince is, that, a Day or two after, he sent for Capt. Brierly, and two or three of his Domeftics, to follow; but none but

the

the Captain obeyed the Summons. Where they are now I can't tell; but fear they must be in great Diftrefs by this time, if he has had no other Supplies. And fo ends my melancholy Story.

SIR,

THE

1 am, &c.

LETTER XCVII.

HE following is a no lefs true than_remarkable Inftance of his late Majefty's Goodness and Clemency extended to one of the meanest of his Subjects, viz, one John Hurt, a Soldier, in Col. Chudleigh's Regiment, quarter'd at Exeter, who was fentenced to be fhot to Death for Desertion; but, a few Days before the intended Execution, writing a Letter to his Sweetheart, who lived with a certain great Lord in London (to whofe Hands the Letter came by Accident) his Lordship immediately fent it to Mr. Pultney, then Secretary at War, who caufed it to be tranflated into French, and prefented it to his Majefty, who confidering the Meannefs of the Man, and the admirable Stile of his Letter, immediately or dered his Pardon, though no manner of Interceffion had been made for that Purpose. The Letter is as follows, the Original whereof is now in the War-office, and Copies are defired by moft of the Nobility.

"Dear NANCY,

"These unhappy mournful Lines will inform you, that we must now feparate for ever, and

I 2

❝ never