plain? Who missed an appointment last night, and left an unhappy man to expect, and wish, and sigh, and languish ?"

"Do not mention it, my dear Mr Jones," cried she. "If you knew the occasion, you would pity me. In short, it is impossible to conceive what women of condition are obliged to suffer from the impertinence of fools, in order to keep up the farce of the world. I am glad, however, all your languishing and wishing have done you no harm; for you never looked better in your life. Upon my faith! Jones, you might at this instant sit for the picture of Adonis."

There are certain words of provocation, which men of honour hold can only properly be answered by a blow. Among lovers possibly there may be some expressions which can only be answered by a kiss. The compliment which Lady Bellaston now made Jones, seems to be of this kind; especially as it was attended with a look in which the lady conveyed more soft ideas than it was possible to express with her tongue. Jones was certainly at this instant in one of the most disagreeable and distressed situations imaginable: for, to carry on the comparison we made use of before, though the provocation was given by the lady, Jones could not receive satisfaction, nor so much as offer to ask it, in the presence of a third person; seconds in this kind of duels not being according to the law of arms. As this objection did not occur to Lady Bellaston, who was ignorant of any other woman being there but herself, she waited some time in great astonishment for an answer from Jones, who, conscious of the ridiculous figure he made, stood at a distance, and not daring to give the proper answer, gave none at all. Nothing can be imagined more comic, nor yet more tragical than this scene would have been if it had lasted much longer. The lady had already changed colour two or three times; had got up from the bed and sat down again, while Jones was wishing the ground to sink under him, or the house to fall on his head, when an odd accident freed him from an embarrassment, out of which neither the eloquence of a Cicero, nor the politics of a Machiavel, could have delivered him, without utter disgrace.

This was no other than the arrival of young Nightingale, dead drunk ; or rather in that state of drunkenness which deprives men of the use of their reason, without depriving them of the

use of their limbs.

Mrs Miller and her daughters were in bed, and Partridge was smoking his pipe by the kitchen fire; so that he arrived at Mr Jones's chamber door without any interruption. This he burst open, and was entering without any ceremony, when Jones started from his seat, and ran to oppose him; which he did so effectually, that Nightingale never came far enough within the door to see who was sitting on the bed.

Nightingale had in reality mistaken Jones's apartment for that in which himself had lodged;

he therefore strongly insisted on coming in, often swearing that he would not be kept out from his own bed. Jones, however, prevailed over him, and delivered him into the hands of Partridge, whom the noise on the stairs soon summoned to his master's assistance.

And now Jones was unwillingly obliged to return to his own apartment, where, at the very instant of his entrance, he heard Lady Bellaston venting an exclamation, though not a very loud one; and, at the same time, saw her flinging herself into a chair in a vast agitation, which, in a lady of a tender constitution, would have been a hysteric fit.

In reality, the lady, frightened with the struggle between the two men, of which she did not know what would be the issue, as she heard Nightingale swear many oaths he would come to his own bed, attempted to retire to her known place of hiding, which, to her great confusion, she found already occupied by another.

"Is this usage to be borne, Mr Jones ?" cries the lady. "Basest of men !-What wretch is this to whom you have exposed me?"-" Wretch !" cries Honour, bursting in a violent rage from her place of concealment,-" marry come up:

Wretch, forsooth!-As poor a wretch as I am, I am honest; that is more than some folks who are richer can say."

Jones, instead of applying himself directly to take off the edge of Mrs Honour's resentment, as a more experienced gallant would have done, fell to cursing his stars, and lamenting himself as the most unfortunate man in the world; and presently after, addressing himself to Lady Bellaston, he fell to some very absurd protestations of innocence. By this time the lady having recovered the use of her reason, which she had as ready as any woman in the world, especially on such occasions, calmly replied, “Sir, you need make no apologies, I see now who the person is; I did not at first know Mrs Honour; but now I do, I can suspect nothing wrong between her and you and I am sure she is a woman of too good sense to put any wrong constructions upon my visit to you; I have been always her friend, and it may be in my power to be much more so hereafter."

Mrs Honour was altogether as placable as she was passionate. Hearing, therefore, Lady Bellaston assume the soft tone, she likewise softened her's." I am sure, madam," says she, "I have been always ready to acknowledge your ladyship's friendships to me; sure I never had so good a friend as your ladyship-and, to be sure, now I see it is your ladyship that I spoke to, I could almost bite my tongue off for very mad.I constructions upon your ladyship!-to be sure, it doth not become a servant, as I am, to think about such a great, great lady-I mean, I was a servant; for indeed I am nobody's servant now, the more miserable wretch is me. I have lost the best mistress"Here Honour thought fit to produce a shower of tears." Don't cry,

child," says the good lady, "ways perhaps may be found to make you amends. Come to me tomorrow morning.' She then took up her fan, which lay on the ground, and, without even looking at Jones, walked very majestically out of the room; there being a kind of dignity in the impudence of women of quality, which their inferiors vainly aspire to attain in circumstances of this nature.

Jones followed her down stairs, often offering her his hand, which she absolutely refused him, and got into her chair without taking any notice of him, as he stood bowing before her.

At his return up stairs, a long dialogue passed between him and Mrs Honour, while she was adjusting herself after the discomposure she had undergone. The subject of this was his infidelity to her young lady, on which she enlarged with great bitterness; but Jones at last found means to reconcile her, and not only so, but to obtain a promise of most inviolable secrecy, and that she would the next morning endeavour to find out Sophia, and bring him a further account of the proceedings of the squire.

Thus ended this unfortunate adventure, to the satisfaction only of Mrs Honour; for a secret (as some of my readers will perhaps acknowledge from experience) is often a very valuable possession; and that not only to those who faithfully keep it, but sometimes to such as whisper it about till it comes to the ears of every one, except the ignorant person, who pays for the supposed concealing of what is publicly known.

CHAP. VIII.

Short and sweet.

NOTWITHSTANDING all the obligations she had received from Jones, Mrs Miller could not forbear in the morning some gentle remonstrances for the hurricane which had happened the preceding night in his chamber. These were, however, so gentle and so friendly, professing, and indeed truly, to aim at 1othing more than the real good of Mr Jones himself, that he, far from being offended, thankfully received the admonition of the good woman expressed much concern for what had passed, excused it as well as he could, and promised never more to bring the same disturbances into the house.

But though Mrs Miller did not refrain from a short expostulation in private at their first meeting, yet the occasion of his being summoned down stairs that morning was of a much more agreeable kind; being indeed to perform the office of a father to Miss Nancy, and to give her in wedlock to Mr Nightingale, who was now already dressed, and full as sober as many of my readers will think am an ought to be, who receives a wife in so imprudent a manner.

And here, perhaps, it may be proper to ac

count for the escape which this young gentleman had made from his uncle, and for his appearance in the condition in which we have seen him the night before.

Now when the uncle had arrived at his lodgings with his nephew, partly to indulge his own inclinations, (for he dearly loved his bottle,) and partly to disqualify his nephew from the immediate execution of his purpose, he ordered wine to be set on the table; with which he so briskly plied the young gentleman, that this latter, who, though not much used to drinking, did not detest it so as to be guilty of disobedience, or of want of complaisance, by refusing, was soon completely finished.

Just as the uncle had obtained this victory, and was preparing a bed for his nephew, a messenger arrived with a piece of news, which so entirely disconcerted and shocked him, that he in a moment lost all consideration for his nephew, and his whole mind became entirely taken up with his own concerns.

This sudden and afflicting news was no less than that his daughter had taken the opportunity of almost the first moment of his absence, and had gone off with a neighbouring young clergyman; against whom though her father could have had but one objection, namely, that he was worth nothing, yet she had never thought proper to communicate her amour even to that father; and so artfully had she managed, that it had never been once suspected by any, till now that it was consummated.

Old Mr Nightingale no sooner received this account, than, in the utmost confusion, he ordered a post-chaise to be instantly got ready, and having recommended his nephew to the care of a servant, he directly left the house, scarce knowing what he did, nor whither he went.

The uncle being thus departed, when the servant came to attend the nephew to bed, had waked him for that purpose, and had at last made him sensible that his uncle was gone, he, instead of accepting the kind offices tendered him, insisted on a chair being called: with this the servant, who had received no strict orders to the contrary, readily complied; and thus, being conducted back to the house of Mrs Miller, he had staggered up to Mr Jones's chamber, as hath been before recounted.

This bar of the uncle being now removed, (though young Nightingale knew not as yet in what manner,) and all parties being quickly ready, the mother, Mr Jones, Mr Nightingale, and his love, stepped into a hackney-coach, which conveyed him to Doctor's-Commons; where Miss Nancy was, in vulgar language, soon made an honest woman, and the poor mother became, in the purest sense of the word, one of the happiest of all human beings.

And now Mr Jones, having seen his good offices to that poor woman and her family brought to a happy conclusion, began to apply himself to his own concerns. But here, lest many of

my readers should censure his folly for thus troubling himself with the affairs of others, and lest some few should think he acted more disinterestedly than indeed he did, we think proper to assure our reader, that he was so far from being unconcerned in this matter, that he had indeed a very considerable interest in bringing it to that final consummation.

To explain this seeming paradox at once, he was one who could truly say with him in Terence, Homo sum, nihil humani a me alienum puto. He was never an indifferent spectator of the misery or happiness of any one; and he felt either the one or the other in as great proportion as he himself contributed to either. He could not, therefore, be the instrument of raising a whole family from the lowest state of wretchedness to the highest pitch of joy, without conveying great felicity to himself; more perhaps than worldly men often purchase to themselves by undergoing the most severe labour, and often by wading through the deepest iniquity.

Those readers who are of the same complection with him, will perhaps think this short chapter contains abundance of matter; while others may probably wish, short as it is, that it had been totally spared as impertinent to the main design, which I suppose they conclude is to bring Mr Jones to the gallows, or, if possible, to a more deplorable catastrophe.

CHAP. IX.

Containing Love-Letters of several sorts.

Mr Jones, at his return home, found the following letters lying on his table, which he luckily opened in the order they were sent.

LETTER I.

Surely I am under some strange infatuation; I cannot keep my resolutions a moment, however strongly made, or justly founded. Last night I resolved never to see you more; this morning I am willing to hear if you can, as you say, clear up this affair: and yet I know that to be impossible. I have said every thing to myself which you can invent.-Perhaps not. Perhaps your invention is stronger. Come to me therefore the moment you receive this. If you can forge an excuse, I almost promise you to believe it. Betrayed to-I will think no more. Come to me directly. This is the third letter I have writ, the two former are burnt; I am almost inclined to burn this too. I wish I may preserve my senses.—Come to me presently."

LETTER III.

"I now find you was not at home when my notes came to your lodgings.-The moment you receive this, let me see you ;—I shall not stir out, nor shall any body be let in but yourself, Sure nothing can detain you long."

Jones had just read over these three billets, when Mr Nightingale came into the room. "Well, Tom," said he, " any news from Lady Bellaston, after last night's adventure?" (for it was now no secret to any one in that house who the lady was.)-" The Lady Bellaston !" answered Jones, very gravely."Nay, dear Tom,” cries Nightingale, " don't be so reserved to your friends. Though I was too drunk to see her last night, I saw her at the masquerade. Do you think I am ignorant who the queen of the fairies is?"—" And did you really then know the lady at the masquerade?" said Jones." Yes, upon my soul, did I," said Nightingale, " and have given you twenty hints of it since, though you seemed always so tender on that point, that I would not speak plainly. I fancy, my friend, by your extreme nicety in this matter, you are not so well acquainted with the character of the lady, as with her person. Don't be angry, Tom; but upon my honour you are not the first young fellow she hath debauched. Her reputation is in no danger, believe me."

Though Jones had no reason to imagine the lady to have been of the vestal kind when this amour began, yet as he was thoroughly ignorant of the town, and had very little acquaintance in it, he had yet no knowledge of that character which is vulgarly called a demirep; that is to say, a woman who intrigues with every man she likes, under the name and appearance of virtue; and who, though some over-nice ladies will not be seen with her, is visited (as they term it) by the whole town; in short, whom every body knows to be what nobody calls her.

When he found, therefore, that Nightingale was perfectly acquainted with his intrigue, and began to suspect, that so scrupulous a delicacy as he had hitherto observed was not quite necessary on the occasion, he gave a latitude to his friend's tongue, and desired him to speak plainly what he knew, or had ever heard of the lady.

Nightingale, who, in many other instances, was rather too effeminate in his disposition, had a pretty strong inclination to tittle-tattle. He had no sooner, therefore, received a full liberty of speaking from Jones, than he entered upon a long narrative concerning the lady; which, as it contained many particulars highly to her dishonour, we have too great a tenderness for all women of condition to repeat. We would cautiously avoid giving an opportunity to the future commentators on our works, of making any malicious application, and of forcing us to be, against our will, the author of scandal, which never entered into our head.

Jones having very attentively heard all that Nightingale had to say, fetched a deep sigh, which the other observing, cried, "Heyday! why, thou art not in love, I hope! Had I imagined my stories would have affected you, I promise you should never have heard them."-"O, my dear friend," cries Jones, "I am so entangled with this woman, that I know not how to extricate myself. In love indeed! no, my friend, but I am under obligations to her, and very great ones. Since you know so much, I will be very explicit with you. It is owing, perhaps, solely to her, that I have not before this wanted a bit of bread. How can I possibly desert such a woman? and yet I must desert her, or be guilty of the blackest treachery to one who deserves infinitely better of me than she can; a woman, my Nightingale, for whom I have a passion which few can have an idea of. I am half distracted with doubts how to act."-" And is this other, pray, an honourable mistress?" cries Nightingale. "Honourable!" answered Jones; no breath ever yet durst sully her reputation. The sweetest air is not purer, the limpid stream not clearer, than her honour. She is all over, both in mind and body, consummate perfection. She is the most beautiful creature in the universe, and yet she is mistress of such noble, elevated qualities, that though she is never from my thoughts, I scarce ever think of her beauty but when I see it."-" And can you, my good friend," cries Nightingale, "with such an engagement as this upon your hands, hesitate a moment about quitting such a "Hold,"

"

said Jones, "no more abuse of her; I detest the thought of ingratitude."-" Pooh!" answered the other, "you are not the first upon whom she hath conferred obligations of this kind. She is remarkably liberal where she likes; though, let me tell you, her favours are so prudently bestowed, that they should rather raise a man's vanity than his gratitude." In short, Nightingale proceeded so far on this head, and told his friend so many stories of the lady, which he swore to the truth of, that he entirely removed all esteem for her from the breast of Jones, and his gratitude was lessened in proportion. Indeed he began to look on all the favours he had received rather as wages than benefits, which not only depreciated her, but himself too, in his own conceit, and put him quite out of humour with both. From this disgust his mind, by a natural transition, turned towards Sophia; her virtue, her purity, her love to him, her sufferings on his account, filled all his thoughts, and made his commerce with Lady Bellaston appear still more odious. The result of all was, that though his turning himself out of her service, in which light he now saw his affair with her, would be the loss of his bread, yet he determined to quit her, if he could but find a handsome pretence; which having communicated to his friend, Nightingale considered a little, and said, "I have it, my boy! I have found out a

"

sure method: propose marriage to her, and I would venture hanging upon the success.' Marriage!" cries Jones." Ay, propose marriage," answered Nightingale, "and she will declare off in a moment. I knew a young fellow whom she kept formerly, who made the offer to her in earnest, and was presently turned off for his pains."

Jones declared he could not venture the experiment. "Perhaps," said he, "she may be less shocked at this proposal from one man than from another; and if she should take me at my word, where am I then? caught in my own trap, and undone for ever."-"No," answered Nightingale; "not if I can give you an expedient, by which you may, at any time, get out of the trap."-" What expedient can that be?" replied Jones." This," answered Nightingale.

The young fellow I mentioned, who is one of the most intimate acquaintances I have in the world, is so angry with her for some ill offices she hath since done him, that I am sure he would, without any difficulty, give you a sight of her letters; upon which you may decently break with her, and declare off before the knot is tied, if she should really be willing to tie it, which I am convinced she will not."

After some hesitation, Jones, upon the strength of this assurance, consented; but as he swore he wanted the confidence to propose the matter to her face, he wrote the following letter, which Nightingale dictated.

"MADAM,

"I AM extremely concerned that, by an unfortunate engagement abroad, I should have missed receiving the honour of your ladyship's commands the moment they came; and the delay which I must now suffer of vindicating myself to your ladyship, greatly adds to this misfortune. O Lady Bellaston, what a terror have I been in, for fear your reputation should be exposed by these perverse accidents! There is one only way to secure it. I need not name what that is only permit me to say, that as your honour is as dear to me as my own, so my sole ambition is to have the glory of laying my liberty at your feet; and believe me, when I assure you, I can never be made completely happy, without you generously bestow on me a legal right of calling you mine for ever. I am, "Madam,

"With most profound respect,
"Your Ladyship's most obliged,
"Obedient humble servant,
"THOMAS JONES."