the fame charity-fchool. George was a great dunce, but no matter for that; all men do not thrive in the world according to their learning. I am fure I have reason to say fo; but it will be all one a thousand years • hence. Well, Sir,-where was I?-O-well, we no 'fooner knew each other, than after many hearty shakes by the hand, we agreed to go to an alehoufe and take a pot, and by good luck the beer was fome of the best I have met with fince I have been in town.-Now, Sir, 'I am coming to the point; for no fooner did I name you, and told him, that you and I came to town together, and had lived together ever fince, than he called for another pot, and fwore he would drink to your health; and indeed he drank your health fo heartily, that I was overjoyed to fee there was fo much gratitude left in the world: and after we had emptied that pot, I faid I would be my pot too, and fo we drank another " to your health; and then I made hafte home to tell > the news you

What news?' cries Jones, you have not mentioned a word of my Sophia!'- Blefs me! I had like to have forgot that. Indeed we mentioned a great deal about Madam Western, and George told me all; young that Mr Blifil is coming to town in order to be married to her. He had beft make hafte then, fays I, or fomebody will have her before he comes; and indeed, fays I, Mr Seagrim, it is a thoufand pities fomebody fhould not have her; for he certainly loves her above all the women in the world. I would have both you and she 'know, that it is not for her fortune he follows her; for I can affure you as to matter of that, there is another lady, one of much greater quality and fortune than fhe can pretend to, who is fo fond of fomebody, that fhe comes after him day and night.”

Here Jones fell into a paffion with Partridge, for having, as he faid, betrayed him; but the poor fellow, anfwered, He had mentioned no name: · Besides, Sir,' faid he, I can affure you George is fincerely your friend, and wished Mr Blifil at the devil more than once; nay, he faid he would do any thing in his power upon_earth to ferve you; and fo I am convinced he will.-Betray you indeed! why, I queftion whether you have a better

friend than George upon earth, except myfelf, or one that would go farther to ferve you.'

Well,' fays Jones, a little pacified, you lay this fellow, who, I believe indeed, is enough inclined to be my friend, lives in the fame houfe with Sophia?"

In the fame houfe!' anfwered Partridge; why, Sir, he is one of the fervants of the the family, and very well dreffed I promife you he is; if it was not for his black beard, you would hardly know him.'

One fervice then, at least, he may do me,' fays Jones; • fure he can certainly convey a letter to my Sophia.'

You have hit the nail ad unguem,' cries Partridge; How came I not to think of it? I will engage he fhall do it upon the very first mentioning.'

Well then,' faid Jones, do you leave me at prefent, and I will write a letter which you fhall deliver to him to-morrow morning; for I fuppofe you know where to

find him.'

O yes, Sir,' anfwered Partridge, I fhall certainly find him again; there is no fear of that. The liquor is too good for him to ftay away long. I make no doubt but he will be there every day he itays in town' So you don't know the fireet then where my Sophia is lodged?' cries Jones.

Indeed, Sir, I do fays Partridge.

What is the name of the street ? cries Jones.

6

The name, Sir, why here, Sir, juft by,' answered Partridge; not above a freet or two off. I don't indeed know the very name; for as he never told me, if I had asked, you know it might have put fome fufpicion into his head. No, no, Sir, let me alone for that, I am too cunning for that, I promife you.'

Thou art most wonderfully cunning indeed, replied Jones; however I will write to my charmer, fince I believe you will be cunning enough to find him to-morrow at the alehoufe.'

6

And now having difmiffed the fagaeious Partridge, Mr Jones fat himfel down to write, in which employment we shall leave him for a time. And here we put an end to to the fifteenth book..

HAVE heard of a dramatic writer who used to fay he would rather write a play than a prologue: in like manner, I think I can with lefs pains write one of the books of this history, than the prefatory chapter to each of them.

To fay the truth, I believe many a hearty curfe hath been, devoted on the head of that author, who firft inftituted the method of prefixing to his play that portion. of matter which is called the prologue; and which at firft was part of the piece itfelf, but of later years hath had ufually fo little connection with the drama before which it ftands, that the prologue to one play might as well ferve for any other. Thofe indeed of more modern slate, feem all to be written on the fame three topics, viz. an abuse of the taste of the town, a condemnation of all cotemporary authors, and an eulogium on the performance just about to be represented. The fentiments in all these are very little varied, nor is it poffible they fhould; and indeed I have often wondered at the great invention of authors, who have been capable of finding fuch various phrafes to exprefs the fame thing.

In like manner, I apprehend, fome future hiftorian (if

any one fhall do me the honour of imitating my manner) will, after much scratching his pate, beftow fome good wishes on my memory, for having firft established these feveral initial chapters: moft of which, like modern prologues, may, as properly be prefixed to any other book in this hiftory as to that which they introduce, or indeed to any other history as to this.

But however authors may fuffer by either of these inventions, the reader will find fufficient emolument in the one, as the fpectator hath long found in the other.

Firft, it is well known, that the prologue ferves the critic for an opportunity to try his faculty of hiffing, and to tune his cat-call to the beft advantage; by which means, I have known thofe mufical inftruments fo well prepared, that they have been able to play in full concert at the first rifing of the curtain.

The fame advantages may be drawn from these chap. ters, in which the critic will be always fure of meeting with fomething that may ferve as a whetstone to his noble fpirit; fo that he may fall, with a more hungry appetite for cenfure, on the hiftory itself. And here his fagacity muft make it needless to obferve how artfully thefe chapters are calculated for that excellent purpose; for in thefe we have always taken care to interfperfe fomewhat of the four or acid kind, in order to sharpen and stimulate the faid spirit of criticism.

Again, the indolent reader, as well as fpectator, finds great advantage from both thefe; for as they are not obliged either to see the one or read the others, and both the play and the book are thus protracted; by the former they have a quarter of an hour longer allowed them to fit at dinner, and by the latter they have the advantage of beginning to read at the fourth or fifth page inftead of the firft; a matter by no means of trivial confequence to perfons who read books with no other view than to say they have read them; a more general motive to reading than is commonly imagined, and from which not only law books, and good books, but the pages of Homer and Virgil, of Swift and Cervantes, have been often turned over.

Many other are the emoluments which arife from both thefe, but they are for the most part fo obvious, that we

fhall not at prefent ftay to enumerate them; especially fince it occurs to us that the principal merit of both the prologue and the preface is that they be short.

CHA P. II.

A whimsical adventure which befel the Squire, with the diftreffed fituation of Sophia.

W

E muft now convey the reader to Mr Weftern's lodgings, which were in Piccadilly, where he was placed by the recommendation of the landlord at the Hercules pillars at Hyde-Park-Corner; for at that inn, which was the first he faw on his arrival in town, he placed his horfes, and in thofe lodgings, which were the first he heard of, he depofited himself.

Here when Sophia alighted from the hackney-coach which brought her from the house of lady Bellafton, fhe defired to retire to the apartment provided for her, to which her father very readily agreed, and whither he attended. her himself. A fhort dialogue, neither very material nor pleasant to relate minutely, then paffed between them, in which he preffed her vehemently to give her confent to the marriage with Blifil, who, as he acquainted her, was to be in town in a few days; but instead of complying, she gave a more peremptory and refolute refufal than the had ever done before. This fo incenfed her father, that after many bitter vows that he would force her to have him whither the would or no, he departed from her with many hard words and curfes, locked the door, and put the key into his pocket. While Sophia was left with no other company than what attend the clofeft ftate prifoner, namely, fire and candle, the fquire fat down to regale himself over a bottle of wine, with his parfon and the landlord of the Hercules Pillars, who, as the fquire faid, would make an excellent third man, and could inform them of the news of, the town, and how affairs went : for, to be fure, fays he, he knows a great deal, fince the horses of many of the quality ftand at his houfe.

In this agreeable fociety Mr Weftern paffed that evening, and great part of the fucceeding day, during which period nothing happened of fufficient confequence to find