herself; and said to Cælia, with an earnest and beseeching tone, Are you really Mr. Palamede's wife?' Cælia replies, I hope I do not look as if I were any other in the condition you see me.' The stranger answered, 'No, madam, he is my husband.' At the same instant, she threw a bundle of letters into Calia's lap, which confirmed the truth of what she asserted. Their mutual innocence and sorrow made them look at each other as partners in distress, rather than rivals in love. The superiority of Celia's understanding and genius gave her an authority to examine into this adventure, as if she had been offended against, and the other the delinquent. The stranger spoke in the following manner: and motion spoke the peaceful, mild, resigning, I repeated the word wife, and fainted. This accihumble inhabitant, that animated her beauteous dent raised no less curiosity than amazement in body. Her air discovered her body a mere ma- Cælia, who caused her to be removed into the chine of her mind, and not that her thoughts inner room. Upon proper applications to revive were employed in studying graces and attrac-her, the unhappy young creature returned to tions for her person. Such was Celia, when she was first seen by Palamede, at her usual place of worship. Palamede is a young man of two-and-twenty, well fashioned, learned, genteel, and discreet; the son and heir of a gentleman of a very great estate, and himself possessed of a plentiful one by the gift of an uncle. He became enamoured with Calia, and after having learned her habitation, had address cnough to communicate his passion and circumstances with such an air of good sense and integrity, as soon obtained permission to visit and profess his inclinations towards her. Palamede's present fortune and future expectations were no way prejudicial to his addresses; but after the lovers had passed some time in the agreeable entertainments of a successful courtship, Cælia one day took occasion to interrupt Palamede, in the midst of a very pleasing discourse of the happiness he promised himself in so accomplished a companion; and, assuming a serious air, told him, there was another heart to be won before he gained hers, which was that of his father. Palamede seemed much disturbed at the overture; and lamented to her, that his father was one of those too provident parents, who only place their thoughts upon bringing riches into their families by marriages, and are wholly insensible of all other considerations. But the strictness of Celia's rules of life made her insist upon this demand; and the son, at a proper hour, communicated to his father the circumstances of his love, and the merit of the object. The next day the father made her a visit. The beauty of her person, the fame of her virtue, and a certain irresistible charm in her whole behaviour, on so tender and delicate an occa sion, wrought so much upon him, in spite of all prepossessions, that he hastened the marriage with an impatience equal to that of his son. Their nuptials were celebrated with a privacy suitable to the character and modesty of Calia; and from that day, until a fatal one last week, they lived together with all the joy and happiness which attend minds entirely united. It should have been intimated, that Palamede is a student of the Temple, and usually retired thither carly in the morning; Calia still sleeping. 'MADAM,-If it shall please you, Mr. Palamede, having an uncle of a good estate near Winchester, was bred at the school there, to gain the more his good-will by being in his sight. His uncle died, and left him the estate which my husband now has. When he was a mere youth, he set his affections on me; but when he could not gain his ends, he married me; making me and my mother, who is a farmer's widow. swear we would never tell it upon any account whatsoever; for that it would not look well for him to marry such a one as me; besides, that his father would cut him off of the estate. I was glad to have him in an honest way; and he now and then came and staid a night and away at our house. But very lately, he came down to see us with a fine young gentleman, his friend, who staid behind there with us, pretending to like the place, for the summer: but ever since master Palamede went, he has attempted to abuse me; and I ran hither to acquaint him with it, and avoid the wicked intentions of his false friend.' Cælia had no more room for doubt; but left her rival in the same agonies she felt herself. Palamede returns in the evening; and finding his wife at his chambers, learned all that had passed, and hastened to Calia's lodgings. It is much easier to imagine, than express, the sentiments of either the criminal, or the injured, at this encounter. knowing years to Calia. She made him no an- As soon as Palamede had found way for It happened, a few days since, that she fol. speech, he confessed his marriage, and his lowed him thither to communicate to him someplacing his companion on purpose to vitiate his thing she had omitted, in her redundant fond-made in his nonage, and devote his riper and wife, that he might break through a marriage ness, to speak of the evening before. When she came to his apartment, the servant there told her, she was coming with a letter to her. While Celia in an inner room was reading an apology from her husband, That he had been suddenly taken by some of his acquaintance to dine at Brentford, but that he should return in the evening,' a country girl, decently clad, asked, if those were not the chambers of Mr. Palamede? She was answered, they were; but that he was not in town. The stranger asked, when he was expected at home? The servant replied, she would go in and ask his wife. The young woman 'SIR,-You, who this morning were the best, are now the worst of men who breathe vital air. I am at once overwhelmed with love, hatred, rage, and disdain. Can infamy and innocence live together? I feel the weight of the one too strong for the comfort of the other. How bitter, heaven! how bitter is my portion! How much have I to say! but the infant which I bear about me stirs with my agitation. I am, Palamede, I will tell yon also, that jointures were never to live in shame, and this creature be heir to it. frequent until the age before his own; but the Farewell for ever!" WHEN we revolve in our thoughts such catastrophes as that in the history of the unhappy Cælia, there seems to be something so hazard. ous in the changing a single state of life into that of marriage, that, it may happen, all the precautions imaginable are not sufficient to defend a virgin from ruin by her choice. It seems a wonderful inconsistence in the distribution of public justice, that a man who robs a woman of an ear-ring or a jewel, should be punished with death; but one, who by false arts and insinua. tions should take from her, her very self, is only to suffer disgrace. This excellent young wo man has nothing to consolate herself with, but the reflection that her sufferings are not the effect of any guilt or misconduct; and has for her protection the influence of a Power, which, amidst the unjust reproach of all mankind, can give not only patience, but pleasure, to innocence in distress. women were contented with the third part of the estate the law allotted them, and scorned to engage with men whom they thought capable of abusing their children.' He has also informed me, that those who are the oldest benchers when he came to the Temple, told him, the first marriage-settlement of considerable length was the invention of an old sergeant; who took the opportunity of two testy fathers, who were ever squabbling, to bring about an alliance between their children. These fellows knew each other to be knaves; and the sergeant took hold of their mutual diffidence, for the benefit of the law, to extend the settlement to three skins of parchment.' To this great benefactor to the profession, is owing the present price current of lines and words. Thus is tenderness thrown out of the question, and the great care is, what the young couple shall do when they come to hate each other. I do not question but from this one humour of settlements might very fairly be deduced, not only our present defection in point of morals, but also our want of people. This has given way to such unreasonable gallantries, that a man is hardly reproachable that deceives an innocent woman, though she has ever so much merit, if she is below him in fortune. The man has no dishonour following his treachery; and her own sex are so debased by force of custom, as to say in the case of the woman, "How could she expect he would marry her?' As the person who is the criminal against Cælia cannot be sufficiently punished according to our present law; so are there numberless unhappy persons without remedy according to present custom. That great ill, which has prevailed among us in these latter ages, is the making even beauty and virtue the purchase of money. The generality of parents, and some By this means the good offices, the pleasures of those of quality, instead of looking out for and graces of life, are not put into the balance. introducing health of constitution, frankness The bridegroom has given his estate out of himof spirit, or dignity of countenance into their self; and he has no more left but to follow the families, lay out all their thoughts upon finding blind decree of his fate, whether he shall be out matches for their estates, and not for their succeeded by a sot or a man of merit in his forchildren. You shall have one form such a plot tune. On the other side, a fine woman, who for the good of his family, that there shall not has also a fortune, is set up by way of auction; be six men in England capable of pretending her first lover has ten to one against him. The to his daughter. A second shall have a son very hour after he has opened his heart and his obliged, out of mere discretion, for fear of doing rent-roll, he is made no other use of but to raise any thing below himself, to follow all the drabs her price. She and her friends lose no opporin town. These sage parents meet; and, as tunity of publishing it, to call in new bidders. there is no pass, no courtship between the young While the poor lover very innocently waits, ones, it is no unpleasant observation to behold until the plenipotentiaries at the inns of court how they proceed to treaty. There is ever in have debated about the alliance, all the partizans the behaviour of each something that denotes of the lady throw difficulties in the way, until his circumstance; and honest Coupler, the con- other offers come in; and the man who came veyancer, says, he can distinguish upon sight first is not put in possession, until she has been of the parties, before they have opened any refused by half the town. If an abhorrence point of their business, which of the two has to such mercenary proceedings were well setthe daughter to sell.' Coupler is of our club, and tled in the minds of my fair readers, those of I have frequently heard him declaim upon this merit would have a way opened to their advancesubject and assert, that the marriage-settlement; nay, those who abound in wealth only ments, which are now used, have grown fashionable even within his memory.' would in reality find their account in it. It would not be in the power of their prude acWhen the theatre, in some late reigns, owed quaintance, their waiters, their nurses, cousins, its chief support to those scenes which were and whisperers, to persuade them, that there written to put matrimony out of countenance, are not above twenty men in a kingdom, and and render that state terrible, then was it that those such as perhaps they may never set eyes pin-money first prevailed; and all the other on, whom they can think of with discretion. articles were inserted which create a diffidence, As the case stands now, let any one consider, and intimate to the young people, that they are very soon to be in a state of war with each other; though this had seldom happened, except the fear of it had been expressed. Coupler how the great heiresses, and those to whom they were offered, for no other reason but that they could make them suitable settlements, live together. What can be more insipid, if not loathsome, than for two persons to be at the head of a crowd, who have as little regard for them as they for each other; and behold one another in an affected sense of prosperity, with. out the least relish of that exquisite gladness at meeting, that sweet inquietude at parting, together with the charms of voice, look, gesture, and that general benevolence between well-chosen lovers, which makes all things please, and leaves not the least trifle indif ferent. But I am diverted from these sketches for future essays, in behalf of my numerous clients of the fair sex, by notice sent to my office in Sheer-lane,That a blooming widow in the third year of her widowhood, and twenty-sixth of her age, designs to take a colonel of twentyeight.' The parties request I would draw up their terms of coming together, as having a regard to my opinion against long and diffident settlements; and I have sent them the following indenture: 'We, John I and Mary -, having estates for life, resolve to take each other. John will venture my life to enrich thee Mary; and I Mary will consult my health to nurse thee John. To which we have interchangeably set our hands, hearts, and seals, this 17th of July, 1710.' No. 200.] Thursday, July 20, 1710. From my own Apartment, July 19. HAVING devoted the greater part of my time to the service of the fair sex; I must ask pardon of my men correspondents, if I postpone their commands, when I have any from the ladies which lie unanswered. That which follows is of importance. SIR,-You cannot think it strange if I, who know little of the world, apply to you for advice in the weighty affair of matrimony; since you yourself have often declared it to be of that consequence as to require the utmost deliberation. Without further preface, therefore, give me leave to tell you, that my father at his death left me a fortune sufficient to make me a match for any gentleman. My mother, for she is still alive, is very pressing with me to marry; and I am apt to think, to gratify her, I shall venture upon one of two gentlemen, who at this time make their addresses to me. My request is, that you would direct me in my choice; which, that you may the better do, I shall give you their characters; and, to avoid confusion, desire you to call them by the names of Philander and Silvius. Philander is young, and has a good estate; Silvius is as young, and has a better. The former has had a liberal education, has seen the town, is retired from thence to his estate in the country, is a man of few words, and much given to books. The latter was brought up under his father's eye, who gave him just learning enough to enable him to keep his accounts; but made him withal very expert in country business, such as loughing, sowing, buying, selling, and the like. They are both very sober men, neither of their persons is disagreeable, nor did I know which to prefer until I had heard them discourse; when the conversation of Philander so much prevailed, as to give him the advantage with me, in all other respects. My mother pleads strongly for Silvius; and uses these arguments: That he not only has the larger estate at present, but by his good husbandry and management increases it daily : that his little knowledge in other affairs will make him easy and tractable; whereas, according to her, men of letters know too much to make good husbands. To part of this, I imagine, I answer effectually, by saying, Philander's estate is large enough; that they who think two thousand pounds a year sufficient, make no difference between that and three. I easily believe him less conversant in those affairs, the knowledge of which she so much commends in Silvius; but I think them neither so necessary, or becoming a gentleman, as the accomplishments of Philander. It is no great character of a man to say, He rides in his coach and six, and understands as much as he who follows the plough. Add to this, that the conversation of these sort of men seems so disagreeable to me, that though they make good bailiffs, I can hardly be persuaded they can be good companions. It is possible I may seem to have odd notions, when I say, I am not fond of a man only for being of, what is called, a thriving temper. To conclude, I own I am at a loss to conceive, how good sense should make a man an ill husband, or conversing with books less complaisant. CÆLIA.' The resolution which this lady is going to take, she may very well say, is founded on reason: for, after the necessities of life are served, there is no manner of competition between a man of a liberal education and an illiterate. Men are not altered by their circumstances, but they are in themselves; and a powerful clown as they give them opportunities of exerting what is a tyrant in the most ugly form he can possibly appear. There lies a seeming objection in the thoughtful manner of Philander: but let her consider, which she shall oftener have occasion to wish, that Philander would speak, or Silvius hold his tongue. The train of my discourse is prevented by the urgent haste of another correspondent. July 14. one of those virgins of twenty-five years old and 'MR. BICKERSTAFF,-This comes to you from upwards, that you, like a patron of the dis. tressed, promised to provide for; who makes it her humble request, that no occasional stories or subjects may, as they have for three or four of your last days, prevent your publishing the for every day and hour is of the greatest conscheme you have communicated to Amanda; sequence to damsels of so advanced an age. Be quick then, if you intend to do any service DIANA FORECAST.' for your admirer, In this important affair, I have not neglected the proposals of others. Among them is the following sketch of a lottery for persons. The author of it has proposed very ample encouragement, not only to myself, but also to Charles Lillie and John Morphew. If the matter bears, I shall not be unjust to his merit: I only desire to enlarge his plan; for which purpose I lay it before the town, as well for the improvement as | inconveniences arising from those very immuthe encouragement of it. nities. Our women have very much indulged to them in the participation of our fortunes and The amicable contribution for raising the for- our liberty; but the errors they commit in the tunes of ten young ladies. use of either, are by no means so impartially considered, as the false steps which are made Imprimis, It is proposed to raise one hundred thousand crowns by way of lots, which will makes the address, assails, and betrays; and yet In the commerce of lovers, the man by men. advance for each lady two thousand five hun- stands in the same degree of acceptance, as he dred pounds; which sum, together with one of was in before he committed that treachery. The the ladies, the gentleman that shall be so happy woman, for no other crime but believing one as to draw a prize, provided they both like, will whom she thought loved her, is treated with be entitled to, under such restrictions hereafter shyness and indifference at the best, and commentioned. And in case they do not like, then monly with reproach and scorn. He that is past either party that refuses, shall be entitled to one the power of beauty, may talk of this inatter thousand pounds only, and the remainder to him with the same unconcern, as of any other subor her that shall be willing to marry, the man ject: therefore I shall take upon me to consider being first to declare his mind. But it is pro- the sex, as they live within rules, and as they vided, that if both parties shall consent to have transgress them. The ordinary class of the one another, the gentleman shall, before he re-good or the ill have very little influence upon ceives the money thus raised, settle one thou- the actions of others; but the eminent, in either sand pounds of the same in substantial hands kind, are those who lead the world below. The (who shall be as trustees for the said ladies,) and ill are employed in communicating scandal, inshall have the whole and sole disposal of it for famny, and disease like furies; the good distribute benevolence, friendship, and health, like angels. The ill are damped with pain and anguish at the sight of all that is laudable, lovely, or happy. The virtuous are touched with commiseration towards the guilty, the disagreeable, and the wretched. There are those who betray the innocent of their own sex, and solicit the lewd of ours. There are those who have abandoned the very memory, not only of innocence, her use only. Note: Each party shall have three months' time to consider, after an interview had, which shall be within ten days after the lots are drawn. Note also, the name and place of abode of the prize, shall be placed on a proper ticket. Item, they shall be ladies that have had a liberal education, between fifteen and twentythree; all genteel, witty, and of unblameable characters. The money to be raised, shall be kept in an iron box; and when there shall be two thousand subscriptions, which amount to five hundred pounds, it shall be taken out and put into a goldsmith's hand, and the note made payable to the proper lady, or her assigns, with a clause therein to hinder her from receiving it, until the fortunate person that draws her shall first sign the note, and so on until the whole sum is subscribed for; and as soon as one hundred thousand subscriptions are completed, and two hundred crowns more to pay the charges, the lottery shall be drawn at a proper place, to be appointed a fortnight before the drawing. 'Note, Mr. Bickerstaff objects to the mar. riageable years here mentioned; and is of opi. nion, they should not commence until after twenty-three. But he appeals to the learned, both of Warwick-lane and Bishopsgate-street,* on this subject.' No. 201.] Saturday, July 22, 1710. White's Chocolate-house, July 21. It has been often asserted in these papers, that the great source of our wrong pursuits is the impertinent manner with which we treat women both in the common and important circumstances of life. In vain do we say, the whole sex would run into England, while the privileges, which are allowed them, do no way balance the but shame. There are those who never for gave, nor could ever bear being forgiven. There are those also who visit the beds of the sick, lull the cares of the sorrowful, and double the joys of the joyful. Such is the destroying fiend, such the guardian angel, woman. The way to have a greater number of the amiable part of womankind, and lessen the crowd of the other sort, is to contribute what we can to the success of well-grounded passions; and therefore I comply with the request of an enamoured man, in inserting the following billet: 'MADAM,-Mr. Bickerstaff you always read, though me you will never hear. I am obliged therefore to his compassion for the opportunity of imploring yours-I sigh for the most accomplished of her sex. That is so just a distinction of her, to whom I write, that the owning I think so is no distinction of me, who write. Your good qualities are peculiar to you; my admiration is common with thousands. I shall be present when you read this; but fear every woman will take it for her character, sooner than she who deserves it.' If the next letter, which presents itself, should come from the mistress of this modest lover, and I make them break through the oppression of their passions, I shall expect gloves at their nuptials. MR. BICKERSTAFF,-You, that are a philosopher, know very well the make of the mind of women, and can best instruct me in the conduct of an affair which highly concerns me. I and the Royal Society at Gresham-college in Bishops love; yet think him impertinent when he offers never can admit my lover to speak to me of The College of Physicians met at Warwick-lane, gate-street. to talk of any thing else. What shall I do with | liked his method of disguising the secret I had a man that always believes me? It is a strange told him; and pronounced him a thriving man, thing, this distance in men of sense! why do who could so well watch the motion of things, not they always urge their fate? If we are and profit by a prevailing humour and impasincere in our severity, you lose nothing by at- tience so aptly, as to make his honest industry tempting. If we are hypocrites, you certainly agreeable to his customers, as it is to be the succced.' messenger of their good fortune. From my own Apartment, July 21. Before I withdraw from business for the night, it is my custom to receive all addresses to me, that others may go to rest as well as myself, at least as far as I can contribute to it. When I called to know if any would speak with me, I was informed that Mr. Mills, the player, desired to be admitted. He was so; and with much modesty acquainted me, as he did other people of note, 'that IIamlet was to be acted on Wednesday next for his benefit.' I had long wanted to speak with this person; because I thought I could admonish him of many things, which would tend to his improvement. In the general I observed to him, that though action was his business, the way to that action was not to study gesture; for the behaviour would follow the sentiments of the mind. Action to the player is what speech is to an orator. If the matter be well conceived, words will flow with ease: and if the actor is well possessed of the nature of his part, a proper action will necessarily follow. He informed me, that Wilks was to act Hamlet: I desired him to request of him in my name, that he would wholly forget Mr. Betterton; for that he failed in no part of Othello, but where he had him in view. An actor's forming himself by the carriage of another, is like the trick among the widows, who lament their husbands as their neighbours did theirs, and not according to their own sentiments of the deceased. There is a fault also in the audience, which interrupts their satisfaction very much; that is, the figuring to themselves the actor in some part wherein they formerly particularly liked him, and not attending to the part he is at that time performing. Thus, whatever Wilks, who is the strictest follower of nature, is acting, the vulgar spectators turn their thoughts upon Sir Harry Wildair. ADVERTISEMENT. From the Trumpet in Sheer-lane, July 20. Ordered, that for the improvement of the pleasures of society, a member of this house, one of the most wakeful of the soporific assembly beyond Smithfield-bars, and one of the order of story-tellers in Holborn, may meet and exchange stale matter, and report the same to their principals. N. B. No man is to tell above one story in the same evening; but has liberty to tell the same the night following. Mr. Bickerstaff desires his love-correspondents to vary the names they shall assume in their future letters; for that he is overstocked with Philanders. This fantastical desire of being remembered only by the two first letters of a name, led me into the contemplation of the vanity and imperfect attainments of ambition in general. When I run back in my imagination all the men whom I have ever known and conversed When I had indulged the loquacity of an old man for some time, in such loose hints, I took my leave of Mr. Mills; and was told, Mr. El-with in my whole life, there are but very few liot of Saint James's coffee-house would speak with me. His business was to desire I would, as I am an astrologer, let him know beforehand, who were to have the benefit tickets in the ensuing lottery; which knowledge, he was of opinion, he could turn to great account, as he was concerned in news. I granted his request, upon an oath of secrecy, that he would only make his own use of it, and not let it be publicly known until after they were drawn. I had not done speaking, when he produced to me a plan which he had formed of keeping books, with the names of all such adventurers, and the numbers of their tickets, as should come to him; in order to give an hourly account of what tickets shall come up during the whole time of the lottery, the drawng of which is to begin on Wednesday next. I who have not used their faculties in the pursuit of what it is impossible to acquire; or left the possession of what they might have been, at their setting out, masters, to search for it where it was out of their reach. In this thought, it was not possible to forget the instance of Pyrrhus, who proposing to himself, in discourse with a philosopher, one, and another, and another conquest, was asked, what he would do after all that? Then,' says the king, 'we will make merry.' He was well answered, 'What hinders your doing that in the condition you are already? The restless desire of exerting themselves above the common level of mankind, is not to be resisted in some tempers; and minds of this make may be observed in every condition of life. Where such men do not make to themselves, or meet with employment, the soil of |