X.
Contents
Inclusam Danaen turris aheneaRobustæque fores, et vigilum canumTristes exubiæ, munierant satisNocturnis ab adulteris;Si non—Hor.translationMr.Spectator,'Your Correspondent's Letter relating to Fortune-Hunters, and your subsequent Discourse upon it, have given me Encouragement to send you a State of my Case, by which you will see, that the Matter complained of is a common Grievance both to City and Country.'I am a Country Gentleman of between five and six thousand a Year. It is my Misfortune to have a very fine Park and an only Daughter; upon which account I have been so plagu'd with Deer-Stealers and Fops, that for these four Years past I have scarce enjoy'd a Moment's Rest. I look upon my self to be in a State of War, and am forc'd to keep as constant watch in my Seat, as a Governour would do that commanded a Town on the Frontier of an Enemy's Country. I have indeed pretty well secur'd my Park, having for this purpose provided my self of four Keepers, who are Left-handed, and handle a Quarter-Staff beyond any other Fellow in the Country. And for the Guard of my House, besides a Band of Pensioner-Matrons and an old Maiden Relation, whom I keep on constant Duty, I have Blunderbusses always charged, and Fox-Gins planted in private Places about my Garden, of which I have given frequent Notice in the Neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by reconnoitring (as I think you call it) under my Windows, as sprucely drest as if he were going to a Ball. I am aware of this way of attacking a Mistress on Horseback, having heard that it is a common Practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my Daughter from the Road-side of the House, and to lodge her next the Garden. But to cut short my Story; what can a Man do after all? I durst not stand for Member of Parliament last Election, for fear of some ill Consequence from my being off of my Post. What I would therefore desire of you, is, to promote a Project I have set on foot; and upon which I have writ to some of my Friends; and that is, that care may be taken to secure our Daughters by Law, as well as our Deer; and that some honest Gentleman of a publick Spirit, would move for Leave to bring in a Bill For the better preserving of the Female Game.I am,Sir,Your humble Servant.Mile-End-Green,March6, 1711-12.Mr.Spectator,Here is a young Man walks by our Door every Day about the Dusk of the Evening. He looks up at my Window, as if to see me; and if I steal towards it to peep at him, he turns another way, and looks frightened at finding what he was looking for. The Air is very cold; and pray let him know that if he knocks at the Door, he will be carry'd to the Parlour Fire; and I will come down soon after, and give him an Opportunity to break his Mind.I am,Sir,Your humble Servant,Mary Comfitt.If I observe he cannot speak, I'll give him time to recover himself, and ask him how he does.DearSir,I beg you to print this without Delay, and by the first Opportunity give us the natural Causes of Longing in Women; or put me out of Fear that my Wife will one time or other be delivered of something as monstrous as any thing that has yet appeared to the World; for they say the Child is to bear a Resemblance of what was desird by the Mother. I have been marryd upwards of six Years, have had four Children, and my Wife is now big with the fifth. The Expences she has put me to in procuring what she has longed for during her Pregnancy with them, would not only have handsomely defrayd the Charges of the Month, but of their Education too; her Fancy being so exorbitant for the first Year or two, as not to confine it self to the usual Objects of Eatables and Drinkables, but running out after Equipage and Furniture, and the like Extravagancies. To trouble you only with a few of them: When she was with Child of Tom, my eldest Son, she came home one day just fainting, and told me she had been visiting a Relation, whose Husband had made her a Present of a Chariot and a stately pair of Horses; and that she was positive she could not breathe a Week longer, unless she took the Air in the Fellow to it of her own within that time: This, rather than lose an Heir, I readily complyd with. Then the Furniture of her best Room must be instantly changed, or she should mark the Child with some of the frightful Figures in the old-fashion'd Tapestry. Well, the Upholsterer was called, and her Longing sav'd that bout. When she went with Molly, she had fix'd her Mind upon a new Set of Plate, and as much China as would have furnished an India Shop: These also I chearfully granted, for fear of being Father to an Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose upon every Concession; and had she gone on, I had been ruined: But by good Fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the Height of her Imagination came down to the Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought her once even upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily preferred to those of her Vanity; and sometimes a Partridge or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear or the Pestle of a Lark, were chearfully purchased; nay, I could be contented tho' I were to feed her with green Pease in April, or Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending 'twill make the Child's Skin white; and nothing will serve her but I must bear her Company, to prevent its having a Shade of my Brown: In this however I have ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as we were coming to Town, she saw a parcel of Crows so heartily at Break-fast upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that she had an invincible Desire to partake with them, and (to my infinite Surprize) begged the Coachman to cut her off a Slice as if 'twere for himself, which the Fellow did; and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such an Appetite, that she seemed rather to devour than eat it. What her next Sally will be, I cannot guess: but in the mean time my Request to you is, that if there be any way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily afford us your Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of Pin-Money, and I think in every Settlement there ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father should be answerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I shall impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter and amSir,Your most Obliged, andmost Faithful Humble Servant,T.B.Let me know whether you think the next Child will love Horses as much as Molly does China-Ware.
T.
Contents
Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.Virg.translation
We were told in the foregoing Book how the evil Spirit practised upon
Eve
as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with Thoughts of Vanity, Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that arise in it, founds upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first Part of the fifth Book.
Adam
upon his awaking finds
Eve
still asleep, with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he regards her, is describ'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd to a Lover's Ear.
His wonder was, to find unwaken'dEveWith Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek,As through unquiet Rest: he on his sideLeaning half-rais'd, with Looks of cordial LoveHung over her enamour'd, and beheldBeauty, which whether waking or asleep,Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with VoiceMild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: AwakeMy Fairest, my Espous'd, my latest found,Heav'n's last best Gift, my ever new Delight!Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh FieldCalls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how springOur tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed,How Nature paints her Colours, how the BeeSits on the Bloom, extracting liquid Sweets.Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled EyeOnAdam,whom embracing, thus she spake:O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose,My Glory, my Perfection! glad I seeThy Face, and Morn return'd—
I cannot but take notice that
Milton
, in the Conferences between
Adam
and
Eve
, had his Eye very frequently upon the
Book of Canticles
, in which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not unlike what we meet with in
Homer
, who is generally placed near the Age of
Solomon
. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and come away; for lo the Winter is past, the Rain is over and gone, the Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come, and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair-one and come away.Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early to the Vineyards, let us see if the Vine flourish, whether the tender Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth.
His preferring the Garden of Eden, to that
—Where the Sapient KingHeld Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse,
shews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his mind.
Eve's
Dream is full of those
high Conceits engendring Pride
, which, we are told, the Devil endeavour'd to instill into her. Of this kind is that Part of it where she fancies herself awaken'd by
Adam
in the following beautiful Lines.
Whysleep'st thouEve?now is the pleasant Time,The cool, the silent, save where Silence yieldsTo the night-warbling Bird, that now awakeTunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song; now reignsFull orb'd the Moon, and with morepleasing1LightShadowy sets off the Face of things: In vain,If none regard. Heav'n wakes with all his Eyes,Whom to behold but thee, Nature's Desire,In whose sight all things joy, with Ravishment,Attracted by thy Beauty still to gaze!
An injudicious Poet would have made
Adam
talk thro' the whole Work in such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the Courtship of
Milton's Adam
, and could not be heard by
Eve
in her State of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho' the Catastrophe of the Poem is finely presag'd on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which follows in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho' the Vision it self is founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream.
Adam
, conformable to his superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts
Eve
upon this occasion.
So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd,But silently a gentle Tear let fallFrom either Eye, and wiped them with her hair;Two other precious Drops, that ready stoodEach in their chrystal Sluice, he ere they fellKiss'd, as the gracious Sign of sweet RemorseAnd pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.
The
Morning Hymn
is written in Imitation of one of those
Psalms
, where, in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the
Psalmist
calls not only upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of God's Works, and awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen the various Dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be acquainted with those many Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole
Hymn
, nor the Holiness of that Resolution with which it concludes.
Having
already
mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet
gives
2
of
Raphael
. His Departure from before the Throne, and the Flight through the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As
Milton
every where fills his Poem with Circumstances that are marvellous and astonishing, he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it opened of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through it.
'Till at the GateOf Heav'n arriv'd, the Gate self-open'd wide,On golden Hinges turning, as by WorkDivine, the Sovereign Architect had framed.
The Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th
Iliad
, as that in particular, where speaking of
Vulcan
,
Homer
says, that he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon occasion, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner. Scaliger has rallied
Homer
very severely upon this Point, as M. Dacier has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether in this particular of
Homer
the Marvellous does not lose sight of the Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of
Milton's
Gates is not so extraordinary as this of the
Tripodes
, so I am persuaded he would not have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims, whom they accompanied.
There is no question but
Milton
had this Circumstance in his Thoughts, because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the
Messiah
with
living
Wheels, according to the Plan in
Ezekiel's
Vision.
—Forth rush'd with Whirlwind soundThe Chariot of paternal DeityFlashing thick flames?, Wheel within Wheel undrawn,Itself instinct with Spirit—
I question not but
Bossu
, and the two
Daciers
, who are for vindicating every thing that is censured in
Homer
, by something parallel in Holy Writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting
Vulcan's Tripodes
with
Ezekiel's
Wheels.
Raphael's
Descent to the Earth, with the Figure of his Person, is represented in very lively Colours. Several of the
French, Italian
and
English
Poets have given a Loose to their Imaginations in the Description of Angels: But I do not remember to have met with any so finely drawn, and so conformable to the Notions which are given of them in Scripture, as this in
Milton
. After having set him forth in all his Heavenly Plumage, and represented him as alighting upon the Earth, the Poet concludes his Description with a Circumstance, which is altogether new, and imagined with the greatest Strength of Fancy.
—LikeMaia'sSon he stood,And shook his Plumes, that Heavnly Fragrance fill'dThe Circuit wide.—
Raphael's
Reception by the Guardian Angels; his passing through the Wilderness of Sweets; his distant Appearance to
Adam
, have all the Graces that Poetry is capable of bestowing. The Author afterwards gives us a particular Description of
Eve
in her Domestick Employments
So saying, with dispatchful Looks in hasteShe turns, on hospitable Thoughts intent,What Choice to chuse for Delicacy best,What order, so contrived, as not to mixTastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bringTaste after Taste; upheld with kindliest Change;Bestirs her then, &c.—
Though in this, and other Parts of the same Book, the Subject is only the Housewifry of our first Parent, it is set off with so many pleasing Images and strong Expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable Parts in this Divine Work.
The natural Majesty of
Adam
, and at the same time his submissive Behaviour to the Superior Being, who had vouchsafed to be his Guest; the solemn Hail which the Angel bestows upon the Mother of Mankind, with the Figure of
Eve
ministring at the Table, are Circumstances which deserve to be admired.
Raphael's
Behaviour is every way suitable to the Dignity of his Nature, and to that Character of a sociable Spirit, with which the Author has so judiciously introduced him. He had received Instructions to converse with
Adam
, as one Friend converses with another, and to warn him of the Enemy, who was contriving his Destruction: Accordingly he is represented as sitting down at Table with
Adam
, and eating of the Fruits of Paradise. The Occasion naturally leads him to his Discourse on the Food of Angels. After having thus entered into Conversation with Man upon more indifferent Subjects, he warns him of his Obedience, and makes natural Transition to the History of that fallen Angel, who was employ'd in the Circumvention of our first Parents.
Had I followed Monsieur
Bossu's
Method in my first Paper of
Milton
, I should have dated the Action of
Paradise Lost
from the Beginning of
Raphael's
Speech in this Book, as he supposes the Action of the
Æneid
to begin in the second Book of that Poem. I could allege many Reasons for my drawing the Action of the
Æneid
rather from its immediate Beginning in the first Book, than from its remote Beginning in the second; and shew why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an Episode, according to the common Acceptation of that Word. But as this would be a dry unentertaining Piece of Criticism, and perhaps unnecessary to those who have read my first Paper, I shall not enlarge upon it. Whichever of the Notions be true, the Unity of
Milton's
Action is preserved according to either of them; whether we consider the Fall of Man in its immediate Beginning, as proceeding from the Resolutions taken in the infernal Council, or in its more remote Beginning, as proceeding from the first Revolt of the Angels in Heaven. The Occasion which
Milton
assigns for this Revolt, as it is founded on Hints in Holy Writ, and on the Opinion of some great Writers, so it was the most proper that the Poet could have made use of.
The Revolt in Heaven is described with great Force of Imagination and a fine Variety of Circumstances. The learned Reader cannot but be pleased with the Poet's Imitation of
Homer
in the last of the following Lines.
At length into the Limits of the NorthThey came, andSatantook his Royal SeatHigh on a Hill, far blazing, as a MountRais'd on a Mount, with Pyramids and Tow'rsFrom Diamond Quarries hewn, and Rocks of Gold,The Palace of greatLucifer,(so callThat Structure in the Dialect of MenInterpreted)—
Homer
mentions Persons and Things, which he tells us in the Language of the Gods are call'd by different Names from those they go by in the Language of Men.
Milton
has imitated him with his usual Judgment in this particular Place, wherein he has likewise the Authority of Scripture to justifie him. The Part of
Abdiel
, who was the only Spirit that in this infinite Host of Angels preserved his Allegiance to his Maker, exhibits to us a noble Moral of religious Singularity. The Zeal of the Seraphim breaks forth in a becoming Warmth of Sentiments and Expressions, as the Character which is given us of him denotes that generous Scorn and Intrepidity which attends Heroic Virtue. The Author doubtless designed it as a Pattern to those who live among Mankind in their present State of Degeneracy and Corruption.
So spake the SeraphAbdiel,faithful foundAmong the faithless, faithful only he;Among innumerable false, unmov'd,Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrify'd;His Loyalty he kept, his Love, his Zeal:Nor Number, nor Example with him wroughtTo swerve from truth, or change his constant Mind,Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,Long way throughhostileScorn, which he sustain'dSuperior, nor of Violence fear'd ought;And, with retorted Scorn, his Back he turn'dOn those proud Tow'rs to swift Destruction doom'd.
L.
Footnote 1:
pleasant
return
Footnote 2:
gives us
return
Contents
Delectata illa urbanitate tam stulta.Petron. Arb.translation
That useful Part of Learning which consists in Emendation, Knowledge of different Readings, and the like, is what in all Ages Persons extremely wise and learned have had in great Veneration. For this reason I cannot but rejoyce at the following Epistle, which lets us into the true Author of the Letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of which I did myself the Honour to publish in a former Paper. I must confess I do not naturally affect critical Learning; but finding my self not so much regarded as I am apt to flatter my self I may deserve from some professed Patrons of Learning, I could not but do my self the Justice to shew I am not a Stranger to such Erudition as they smile upon, if I were duly encouraged. However this only to let the World see what I could do; and shall not give my Reader any more of this kind, if he will forgive the Ostentation I shew at present.
March 13, 1712.Sir,'Uponreading your Paper of yesterday2, I took the Pains to look out a Copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your last Letter: Comparing them, I found they were the very same, and have, underwritten, sent you that Part of it which you say was torn off. I hope you will insert it, that Posterity may know 'twas Gabriel Bullock that made Love in that natural Stile of which you seem to be fond. But, to let you see I have other Manuscripts in the same Way, I have sent you Enclosed three Copies, faithfully taken by my own Hand from the Originals, which were writ by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good estate to Madam Mary, and an Uncle of hers, a Knight very well known by the most ancient Gentry in that and several other Counties of Great Britain. I have exactly followed the Form and Spelling. I have been credibly informed that Mr. William Bullock, the famous Comedian, is the descendant of this Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullock's great grandfather on the Body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark. But neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, taking notice of it, I will not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italic.I am,Sir,Your daily Reader.To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes when I had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Power at the apothecary's shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I amthemore bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own Man, and may match where I please; for my Father is taken away; and now I am come to my Living, which is ten yard Land, and a House; and there is never a Yard Land3in our Field but is as well worth ten Pound a Year, as a Thief's worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and Sisters are provided for: besides I have good Household Stuff, though I say it, both Brass and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and though my House be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well of this Motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new Cloaths is made, and Hay-Harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have goodMatches in our Town; but my Mother (God's Peace be with her) charged me upon her Death-Bed to marry a Gentlewoman, one who had been well trained up in Sowing and Cookery. I do not think but that if you and I can agree to marry, and lay our Means together, I shall be made grand Jury-man e'er two or three Years come about, and that will be a great Credit to us. If I could have got a Messenger for Sixpence, I would have sent one on Purpose, and some Trifle or other for a Token of my Love; but I hope there is nothing lost for that neither. So hoping you will take this Letter in good Part, and answer it with what Care and Speed you can, I rest and remain,Yours, if my own,Mr. Gabriel Bullock,now my father is dead.Swepston, Leicestershire.When the Coal Carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one of them my self.For sir William to go to london at westminster, remember a parlement.Sir William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that i am in troubel abbut a lady you nease; and I do desire that you will be my frend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would not let me go to you; but i desire that you will be our frends, for it is no dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make us all. i wish that i might see you, for thay say that you are a good man: and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated two i beleive. i might a had many a lady, but i con have none but her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our harts, if you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you if God be willing and if you pleased, so be not angterie till you know the trutes of things.George NelonI give my to me lady, and to Mr. Aysenby, and to madam norton March, the 19th; 1706.This is for madam mary norton disforth Lady she went to York.Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, i hope you are well. Do not go to london, for they will put you in the nunnery; and heed not Mrs. Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to another Place, and we will gate wed so with speed, mind what i write to you, for if they gate you to london they will keep you there; and so let us gate wed, and we will both go. so if you go to london, you rueing your self, so heed not what none of them saith to you. let us gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do any thing for you to my poore. i hope the devill will faile them all, for a hellish Company there be. from there cursed trick and mischiefus ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me.I think to be at york the 24 day.This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that belongs to dishforth.Madam Mary, i hope you are well, i am soary that you went away from York, deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do remain faithful; and if can let me know where i can meet you, i will wed you, and I will do any thing to my poor; for you are a good woman, and will be a loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and i will have none but you. so, sweet love, heed not what to say to me, and with speed come: heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid makes you believe ought.So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent you 2 or 3 letters before.I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the night for me pains, and non new whear i was, and i did gat cold.But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will tell hor soul is black within, hor corkis stinks of hell.March 19th, 1706.
To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes when I had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Power at the apothecary's shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I amthemore bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own Man, and may match where I please; for my Father is taken away; and now I am come to my Living, which is ten yard Land, and a House; and there is never a Yard Land3in our Field but is as well worth ten Pound a Year, as a Thief's worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and Sisters are provided for: besides I have good Household Stuff, though I say it, both Brass and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and though my House be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well of this Motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new Cloaths is made, and Hay-Harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have goodMatches in our Town; but my Mother (God's Peace be with her) charged me upon her Death-Bed to marry a Gentlewoman, one who had been well trained up in Sowing and Cookery. I do not think but that if you and I can agree to marry, and lay our Means together, I shall be made grand Jury-man e'er two or three Years come about, and that will be a great Credit to us. If I could have got a Messenger for Sixpence, I would have sent one on Purpose, and some Trifle or other for a Token of my Love; but I hope there is nothing lost for that neither. So hoping you will take this Letter in good Part, and answer it with what Care and Speed you can, I rest and remain,Yours, if my own,Mr. Gabriel Bullock,now my father is dead.Swepston, Leicestershire.When the Coal Carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one of them my self.For sir William to go to london at westminster, remember a parlement.Sir William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that i am in troubel abbut a lady you nease; and I do desire that you will be my frend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would not let me go to you; but i desire that you will be our frends, for it is no dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make us all. i wish that i might see you, for thay say that you are a good man: and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated two i beleive. i might a had many a lady, but i con have none but her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our harts, if you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you if God be willing and if you pleased, so be not angterie till you know the trutes of things.George NelonI give my to me lady, and to Mr. Aysenby, and to madam norton March, the 19th; 1706.This is for madam mary norton disforth Lady she went to York.Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, i hope you are well. Do not go to london, for they will put you in the nunnery; and heed not Mrs. Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to another Place, and we will gate wed so with speed, mind what i write to you, for if they gate you to london they will keep you there; and so let us gate wed, and we will both go. so if you go to london, you rueing your self, so heed not what none of them saith to you. let us gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do any thing for you to my poore. i hope the devill will faile them all, for a hellish Company there be. from there cursed trick and mischiefus ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me.I think to be at york the 24 day.This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that belongs to dishforth.Madam Mary, i hope you are well, i am soary that you went away from York, deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do remain faithful; and if can let me know where i can meet you, i will wed you, and I will do any thing to my poor; for you are a good woman, and will be a loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and i will have none but you. so, sweet love, heed not what to say to me, and with speed come: heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid makes you believe ought.So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent you 2 or 3 letters before.I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the night for me pains, and non new whear i was, and i did gat cold.But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will tell hor soul is black within, hor corkis stinks of hell.March 19th, 1706.
R.
Footnote 1:
This paper is No. 328 in the original issue, but Steele omitted it from the reprint and gave in its place the paper by Addison which here stands next to it marked with the same number, 328. The paper of Addison's had formed no part of the original issue. Of the original No. 328 Steele inserted a censure at the end of No. 330.