Then turning over the leaves, she reads alternately, and speaks,

And you and Loveit to her cost shall find

I fathom all the depths of woman-kind. Oh the fine gentleman! But here, continues she, is the passage I admire most, where he begins to tease Loveit, and mimic Sir Fopling. Oh, the pretty satire, in his resolving to be a coxcomb to please, since noise and nonsense have such powerful charms.

I, that I may successful prove,

Transform myself to what you love. Then how like a man of the town, so wild and gay is that!

The wise will find a diff'rence in our fate,
You wed a woman, I a good estate.

It would have been a very wild endeavour for a man of my temper to offer any opposition to so nimble a speaker as my fair enemy is; but her discourse gave me very many reflections, when I had left her company. Among others, I could not but consider with some attention, the false impressions the generality (the fair sex more especially) have of what should be intended, when they say a' fine gentleman;' and could not help revolving that subject in my thoughts, and settling, as it were, an idea of that character in my own imagination.

No man ought to have the esteem of the rest of the world, for any actions which are disagreeable to those maxims which prevail, as the standards of behaviour, in the country wherein he lives. What is opposite to the eternal rules of reason and good sense, must be excluded from any place in the car.

riage of a well-bred man. I did not, I confess, ex-
plain myself enough on this subject, when I called
Dorimant a clown, and made it an instance of it, that
he called the orange wench, Double Tripe: I should
have she:n, that hunanity obliges a gentleman to
give no part of human-kind reproach, for what they,
whom they reproach, may possibly have in common
with the most virtuous and worthy amongst us. When
a gentleman speaks coarsely, he has dressed himself
clean to no purpose. The clothing of our minds
certainly ought to be regarded before that of our
bodies. To betray in a man's talk a corrupt imagi-
nation, is a much greater offence against the conver-
sation of gentlemen, than any negligence of dress
imaginable. But this sense of the matter is so far
from being received among people even of condition,
that Vocifer even passes for a fine gentleman. He is
loud, haughty, gentle, soft, lewd, and obsequious by
turns, just as a little understanding and great impu-
dence prompt him at the present moment. He passes
among the silly part of our women for a man of wit,
because he is generally in doubt. He contradicts
with a shrug, and confutes with a certain sufficiency,
in professing such and such a thing is above his capa-
city. What makes his character the pleasanter is,
that he is a professed deluder of women; and be-
cause the empty coxcomb has no regard to any thing
that is of itself sacred and inviolable. I have heard
an unmarried lady of fortune say, it is a pity so fine
a gentleman as Vocifer is so great an atheist. The
crowds of such inconsiderable creatures, that infest
all places of assembling, every reader will have in his
eye from his own observation; but would it not be
worth considering what sort of figure a man who
formed himself upon those principles among us, which
are agreeable to the dictates of honour and religion,

of the rest of

Then turning over the leaves, she reads alternately, and speaks,

And you and Loveit to her cost shall find

I fathom all the depths of woman-kind. Oh the fine gentleman! But here, continues she, is the passage I admire most, where he begins to tease Loveit, and mimic Sir Fopling. Oh, the pretty satire, in his resolving to be a coxcomb to please, since noise and nonsense have such powerful charms.

I, that I may successful prove,
Transform myself to what you love.

Then how like a man of the town, so wild and gay is that!

The wise will find a diff'rence in our fate,
You wed a woman, I a good estate..

It would have been a very wild endeavour for a man of my temper to offer any opposition to so nimble a speaker as my fair enemy is; but her discourse gave me very many reflections, when I had left her company. Among others, I could not but consider with some attention, the false impressions the generality (the fair sex more especially) have of what should be intended, when they say a' fine gentleman ;' and could not help revolving that subject in my thoughts, and settling, as it were, an idea of that character in my own imagination.

"No man ought to have the esteem of the rest of the world, for any actions which are disagreeable to those maxims which prevail, as the standards of behaviour, in the country wherein he lives. What is opposite to the eternal rules of reason and good sense, must be excluded from any place in the car.

riage of a well-bred man. I did not, I confess, ex-
plain myself enough on this subject, when I called
Dorimant a clown, and made it an instance of it, that
be called the orange wench, Double Tripe: I should
have shewn, that humanity obliges a gentleman to
give no part of human-kind reproach, for what they,
whom they reproach, may possibly have in common
with the most virtuous and worthy amongst us. When
a gentleman speaks coarsely, he has dressed himself
clean to no purpose. The clothing of our minds
certainly ought to be regarded before that of our
bodies. To betray in a man's talk a corrupt imagi-
nation, is a much greater offence against the conver-
sation of gentlemen, than any negligence of dress
imaginable. But this sense of the matter is so far
from being received among people even of condition,
that Vocifer even passes for a fine gentleman. He is
loud, haughty, gentle, soft, lewd, and obsequious by
turns, just as a little understanding and great impu-
dence prompt him at the present moment. He passes
among the silly part of our women for a man of wit,
because he is generally in doubt. He contradicts
with a shrug, and confutes with a certain sufficiency,
in professing sạch and such a thing is above his capa-
city. What, makes his character the pleasanter is,
that he is a professed deluder of women; and be
cause the empty coxcomb has no regard to any thing
that is of itself sacred and inviolable. I have heard
an unmarried lady of fortune say, it is a pity so fine
a gentleman as Vocifer is so great an atheist. The
crowds of such inconsiderable creatures, that infest
all places of assembling, every reader will have in his
eye from his own observation; but would it not be
worth considering what sort of figure a man who
formed himself upon those principles among us, which
are agreeable to the dictates of honour and religion,

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods

The nimble deer to take,
And with their cries the hills and dales

An echo shrill did make.

Vocat ingenti clamore Cithæron
Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum:
Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminatu remugit.

GEORG. üi. 43.
Cithæron loudly calls me to my way;
Thy hounds, Taygetas, open and pursue the prey:
High Epidaurus urges on my speed,
Fam'd for his hills, and for his horses breed:
From hills and dales the cheerful cries rebound;
For Echo hunts along, and propagates the sound,

DRYDEN.
Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come,

His men in armour bright;
Full twenty hundred Scottish spears,

All marching in our sight.
All men of pleasant Tividale,

Fast by the river Tweed, &c.

The country of the Scotch warriors, described in these two last verses, has a fine romantic situation, and affords a couple of smooth words for verse. If the reader compares the foregoing six lines of the song with the following Latin verses, he will see how much they are written in the spirit of Virgil:

Adversi campo apparent, hastasque reductis
Protendunt 'longe dextris ; et spicula vibrant :
Quique altum Præneste viri, quique arva Gabine
Junonis, gelidumque Anienem, et roscida rivis
Hernica saxa colunt: qui rosea rura Velini,
Qui Tetricæ horrentes rupes, montemque Severum,
Casperiamque colunt, Forulosque et flumen Himellæ :
Qué Tiberim Fabarimque bibunt.

ÆN. xi. 605. vii. 682, 712.
Advancing in a line, they couch their spears
mm Præneste sends a chosen band,
With those who plow Saturnia's Gabine land:
Besides the succours which cold Anien yields;