LETTE● OF LOV● AND GALLANTR● And several other Sub●●●●●  
All Written by La 〈…〉  
VOL. I.  
LONDON▪ Printed for ●. Bris●●● over a●Will's Will's 〈…〉   

THE BOOKSELLER TO THE READER.  
THE Report of my going to Print the Adventures of Olinda, written by her self, in some Letters to a Friend, having raised an Emulation in some other Ladies, several others were sent me by the Penny Post in unknown Hands, while the first were in the Press, with a desire to have them also published. I joyfully embraced the Proposition, and thought that it would be a great piece of Injustice to deprive the public of the satisfaction of seeing them: But coming too late, I Resolved to Print 'em in another Volume not doubting in the least but the Ladies Letters will meet with a very favourable Reception, since Letters are so much in Vogue.  
Some of these are Translations, and set down as such, but still by Ladies, and done after the best Hands. They are placed without Order according as they were sent without the least Addition, or Alteration. In the next Volume,( which shall be published with all convenient speed) care shall be taken to place them more regularly.  
Such Ladies as are desirous to promote this Undertaking, and to favour the World with any Letters in Prose or Verse upon all manner of Subjects, to be inserted in the next Volume, are desired to direct them to my Shop in Russel-Street, Covent-Garden, over against Will's Coffee-House, and I engage to Comply with their Desires. Excepting all particular Reflections.  
S. Briscoe.   

CLEANDER TO THE READER.  
WHen I Received Olinda's Letters, I thought 'em very agreeable, and being of a Humour to love to Communicate every thing that pleases me, I have sent 'em into the world, to try if they can meet with many of the same taste. You have 'em as they were sent me without any Alteration but the Names. Pray use 'em courteously, because they are a fair Ladies; and if you will, you may allow something for their being Writ Extempore, and without any design of Publishing. But perhaps you may find 'em so Correct, that she will not be much obliged to you for your favour; but that in this Age Envy and Malice Reigns so high, that 'tis an Obligation to have Justice done one. However, I need not take much pains to Court you, since the good natured will be so without Entreaty, and the ill natured critic will lose his Aim here, where neither the Author, nor the Publisher are known; Olinda, can't be the woise for your Censure, and what hurt will it do me to hear that Cleanders partial kindness for his Friend, made him admire all she said. Therefore now I think on't better, you may e'en do what you will with' em. As for the rest, I can tell you no more of 'em, but that they were sent me in unknown Hands, by the Penny Post, and that I thought fit to give you that which was Directed to me with 'em, that you might know as much about them as I do. When Letters are so much in Vogue, sure the Ladies can't fail of being acceptable, therefore I need say nothing of them, besides, if they don't recommend themselves, my good Word moved be of no great Effect; the two which immediately follow Olinda's to me, I prevailed with her to give me the Copies of( since they would come out in such good Company) to satisfy those who might have the Curiosity to know how she Writ to her Lover, since she Treats her Friend with so much Tenderness. This is all I have to say to you, and I think I have detained you long enough for nothing, for I believe you are not much Wiser than you were at the Beginning of this Epistle; but it's Civil to say something, tho never so little to the purpose.   

THE ADVENTURES OF A Young Lady. Written by her self, in several Letters to a Gentleman in the Country.  

LETTER I.  
Dear Cleander,  
I Hope I need not tell you how uneasy this tedious Absence makes me; for I must confess as troublesone as I find it, and as much as I Value you, I can't but wish you may be able to guess at it by what you suffer yourself: A strange Effect of the highest degree of Friendship; for if I had less for you, I should not so earnestly desire to hear you are in pain; but such Contradictions are no Mysteries to you, who understand so well the little Niceties of Friendship. That you may see I study nothing more in this solitude than to oblige you; I've resolved to employ most part of my time in complying with that Request you've often made me, of giving you a particular account of all that has happened to me in my Life; tho I fear I shall lose part of that Esteem which you have hitherto preserved for me, by acquainting you with some Passages of it, which yet I hope have nothing in 'em so ill, that the kindness of a Friend may'nt find out something in the Circumstances of the Story to Excuse: For tho perhaps I have not always been so nicely cautious as a Woman in strictness ought, I have never gone beyond the bounds of solid Virtue. To put all to the hazard then, I will give you a faithful Account of all my Weaknesses. My Father dying, left me when I was very young to the Tuition of a Mother, who as you know is qualified for such a Charge equal to any of her Sex; and she indeed performed her part as well as her small Fortune would permit her, which was scarce sufficient to maintain her, in that Rank her Birth had placed her. However she gave me all the Education that was necessary; but I believe you'l excuse me if I pass over all that occurred till I was thirteen, for about that time I begun to fancy myself a Woman, and the more to persuade me to it, I happened to be acquainted with a Gentleman whose Name was Licydon, who the first or second time I saw him seemed to have so much confidence in me, that he  told me a long story of his Love, and ever after shew'd me all the Letters he either Writ to, or received from his Mistress: This you must think did not a little please me, and I thought myself as Wise as the Gravest politician, when he asked my Advice in any of his Affairs, especially when I heard him commended by many for a Man of great Parts. One day that we were by ourselves, we fell into a Discourse of Womens making Love; he argued that 'twas very unjust to deprive 'em of the satisfaction of discovering a Passion, which they were as much subject to as Men: I said as much against him as I could, but he had more dexterity to manage his Argument than I; so that I was easily brought to agree with him; but said 'twas well that custom was observed, since the complaisance which was paid by their Sex to ours, would sometimes oblige 'em to comply contrary to their Inclination; for I could not imagine how they could civilly refuse a Ladies entreaties. He  told me if I would writ a Declaration of Love to him, he would show me how it might be answered with a great deal of Respect, without any Love. I consented to do it, and accordingly did the next day, and he return'd me an Answer which satisfied me: This, tho it may seem a trivial thing, you will find by the sequel, had like to have produced but ill Effects. Some time after this he brought a Friend of his to Visit us, who was of a good Family; but according to the English custom of breeding the younger Sons to Trades; he was a Goldsmith, but a great Beaux, and one who seemed to have a Soul above his Calling: He asked Licydon if he had any pretensions to me, which when he assured him he had not, he  told him he was very glad he had not a Rival in a Friend; for he was hugely smitten, and should need his Assistance in his design; for he had observed such an intimacy between us, as gave him Reason to think he had great influence over me; and he was sure he would not deny him, if he was not my Lover. Licydon assured him he had only a Friendship for me, and that he would use all his Credit with me to persuade me to receive all his Addresses favourably; which he did as soon as he had an opportunity. He said all of him that he could imagine most engaging, and especially of the Violence of his Passion. I was well enough pleased with the Love, tho' not with the Lover; for 'tis natural at that unthinking Age to covet a crowd of Admirers, tho' we despise them: But I believe I need not confine that Vanity to Youth, many of our Sex are troubled with it, when one would think they were Old enough to be sensible of the Folly, and inconvenience of being continually Courted, and haunted by Men they have an indifference, or perhaps an Aversion for. For my part I think there is no greater torment; but I was of another Opinion then, and therefore rallied at the Love, and seemed not to believe it; which I warrant you gave great Encouragement to my new Lover, when he heard of it; for it's a great Sign one would be convinced. So I'd best prepare myself for an Attack, which I did not expect long: It was begun by a Billet Doux, which came first to my Mothers Hands; and when she gave it me, she asked what Answer I would return. I  told her I was wholly to be governed by her; but if I was to follow my own inclination I would not Answer it at all: My Mother replied, she thought it fit I should Answer it; for she believed I could have no aversion to him, and she did not think it an ill Match, considering my circumstances. Then I desired her to indite a Letter for me, for I saw well enough I should not please her. She gave me a Copy of one, that without saying any thing that was kind, gave him cause enough not to despair; but I could not dissemble my Looks and Actions, in which he observed so much Coldness, that tho' several Letters past between us, that would have given hopes to a Man the least apt to presume; he was often half an hour with me alone, without speaking one Word to me. At last he complained to Licydon of the strange contradictions in what I did, and what I Writ; for when ever he begun to speak to me of his Love I checked him with such severe Looks, and turned the Discourse in such a manner, that he durst proceed no further, tho my Letters seemed much to his Advantage. Lycydon persuaded him( as perhaps he thought himself) that 'twas only my Modesty, and that perhaps I should be more emboldened, if he could get my Mothers Consent to his Proposals. Berontus, for that was his Name, was as well satisfied with this, as if I had  told him so myself; and away goes he immediately to to my Mother, and tells her he's stark staring Mad in Love with her Daughter: The next thing they talk of, is jointure, and Settlements, &c. and in fine they agree; so I am called for, and commanded to look upon this Spark as one that must shortly be my Husband; and to give us the more freedom my Mother leaves us togethet. Well Madam,( says he) I have no opposites to struggle with, your Mother has given me her consent, and you have given me hopes that you will not refuse me yours. What should I do in this perplexity? I had a firm Resolution never to mary him; but I found my Mother so much set upon it, that I durst not let it be known; besides I had engaged myself so far in Obedience to her, that I did not know how to come off; but for the present I would be whimsical, and take time to consider what I should do hereafter. So I put on a pet, and said, Berontus I don't know what advantage you think you have more than before; but I'm sure a Lover would have found another way of Courting his Mistress, than by her Mother; and it may be you'll find yourself never the nearer my heart for having gained her: I hate a Man▪ that will depend upon any other for my favour than myself. Cruel Creature, says he, what pleasure do you take in tormenting me? You know that I love you with the greatest respect imaginable, and that I can't be happy but by you alone. I never had Recourse to your Mother till you had encouraged me; and give me leave to say it, your usage of me is very unjust. I knew well enough he was in the Right; but I would not know it: So that we partend both much dissatisfied. How his thoughts were employed I can't pretend to tell you; but I was continually contriving how to get out of this troublesone Affair. I could find no way but to tell him sincerely that all that I had writ in his Favour was by constraint; that I was too young to think of Love, or marriage, and so trust to his Generosity; and prevail with him, if possible, to let it fall off his side. The first time I had an opportunity of putting my design in Execution, I thought the poor Lover would never have lived to see me beyond those years which served as a pretence for my refusal; but he was Wise enough to balk me, If says he,( after he was come out of his Dumps; for he was a quarter of an hour without saying any thing. You see he was much given to silence) If I did not imagine it your hate that only studied an Excuse, I should wait with a great deal of satisfaction, till you were pleased to make me happy: But as it is, I shall die a thousand times with fear that some other more happy in your inclinations than I, will Rob me of you for ever. He said in fine, abundance of fine things to persuade me to engage myself to him; but I would not consent to it; and all I could say to him, was as little prevalent to make him desist his svit. He would wait the patriarches prenticeship rather than lose his Angel: would it not be a sad business if he should lose her after all? But I'm afraid he's like, for her thoughts cannot be brought so low; they tower a little above his Shop, perhaps too high for her Fortune; but she's something too young to consisider that, or to prefer her interest to her Humour. But to go on with my Story, my Mother was well enough satisfied to have the Match delayed; so that I thought I had nothing to do for a year or two, but to wish some accident might intervene to hinder it. But it was not long before a Servant we had in the House found me other Employment; I had complained of some Negligences she had been guilty of, when my Mother was out of Town, which were occasioned by a fondness she had for one that waited upon Lycidon: Upon which she had like to be turned away, and being of a revengeful Spirit, she could never forgive it: She had observed that Licydon often gave me, and I him Letters in private; for when he had no other opportunity, he used to give me those he sent, or received from his Mistress, as we were taking leave, when I conducted him to the Door; which I often did, whilst my Mother was entertaining other Company; and I return'd 'em when I saw him again. This malicious Wench hoping to find something in 'em that might prejudice me,  told Licydons Man( over whom it seems she had a great Influence) that she heard his Master was a great Poet, and that she had a great mind to see some of his Works, if he could contrive to let her into his Closet when he was abroad: The Servant who suspected nothing, promised her he would let her know the first time his Master left his Key, which he very seldom did. He kept his Word with her, and after she had looked over all his Papers, at last she found that Letter which I spoken of at the beginning. She knew my hand well enough, and no doubt with Joy, put it into her Pocket, without being perceived by the Fellow; and to lose no time, went presently to Berontus; to whom she said, That she was extremely concerned to see him deceived by two that he relied so much upon, as her young Mistress and Licydon: and therefore she could not forbear telling him, that she had discovered an intrigue between 'em, and that they were so familiar, that if they were not Married already, she was sure, they would be very suddenly; with abundance of Circumstances of her own Invention, to make the Story more plausible. He did not believe her at first; but when she showed him the Letter it put him beyond doubt; so that after he had given her his Word, whatever Measures he took, not to discover her, she went away very well pleased, that she had deprived me of a Husband, and received a good Reward for it. Berontus did not give his Rage and Grief leave to abate; but in the height of both Writ a Letter to Licydon, and another to me. You can't imagine how much I was surprised when I red it, and found it was a Challenge,( for in that confusion he had mistaken the Direction) to one whom he accused of betraying him in what was dearer to him than his Life: I could not guess who it was designed for, till Licydon came in, and showed me a Letter he had just received, which he believed was for me, and desired me to tell him who that happy Man was Berontus complained so much of. I saw plainly then, he was Jealous of Licydon; but was not able to Divine the Cause: He gave me the Letter which contained these Words.  
would to Heaven you had  told me Truth, when you said you were too young to think of Love; you have thought of it too much Olinda, for my quiet; but you were born to Torment me. It is my Fate, why do I complain of you? Pity me, if I fall by my happy Rivals Hand, and if you can, forgive me if I survive him. This is the last time▪ I design to trouble you: I wish he may be more faithful to you then he has been to me: Adieu Madam, pity the unfortunate Berontus.  
The Letter seemed so full of distraction, that I could not choose but pity hi●; for I really thought him Mad: But I did not think fit to show Licydon that which was designed for him. When he was gone I sent for Berontus, but he refused to ●●me, and 'twas with much ado after three or four times sending he was prevailed with. I  told him by what means I had seen both his Letters; but that they appeared so great Mysteries to me, that I sent for him to explain' em. 'twas long before he would let me know the Cause of his suspicious; but I was so importunate, that at last he showed me the Love Letter I had Writ to Licydon: Can I have a greater Proof than this, says he? I confess, replied I, you have Reason to think as you do; but you are very much deceived; and then I  told him upon what occasion it was Writ: I saw very well he did not believe me, and I knew not how to convince him, unless I could find Licydon's Answer, which at least would clear him. I found it by good Fortune, and brought it to Berontus. red this, said I, and you'll see whether it be true, that I Writ to Licydon in earnest: You have nothing to accuse him of. After he had red it, he cried out in a Violent manner, I have wronged the Innocent Olinda, and I deserve to be hated by her for ever. Be not so Transported I return'd coldly enough, I may love Licydon, tho he be so indifferent: The Postscript fully clears you, replied Berontus, and makes me not dare to ask you to forgive me; upon which I took it, and red these Words, which I had quiter forgot. I did not think one could writ so prettily of Love, and be so insensible of it; how Happy would that Man be, that should receive such a one dictated by your Heart, as well as Hand. I 'm sure none co●'d Return such an Answer to Olinda. This compliment did me so much kindness, that one would think I should be a better Friend to 'em than you know I am. Berontus left me almost as Angry at himself, as he was before at us; and did not come near me, for some time after. When I  told Licydon what had past between us, he was amazed: He examined his Man, who had been in the Chamber, who confessed the Truth; and our Servant when she was taxed with it, hardly denied it, and thus the whole Matter was discovered; which had it not been for a happy mistake, had probably cost one, or both of them, their Lives; and me my Honour. Two days after Licydon was Married, and so our acquaintance broken off; for tho' his Wife came to see me and often pressed me to keep a correspondence with her; I never did, for I knew she had been very Jealous of me before she married, and I would not hazard the reviving it. Berontus easily obtained his pardon of me( for you know I'm very good natured) and so he continued to Visit me, taking all the pains he could to please me, without any thing remarkable happening, till three Months after, his Elder Brother who had been at his Travels, and was Reported to be dead, return'd; so that he was no longer able to keep the Conditions he had made with my Mother; for he had nothing to live upon but his Trade; which I afterwards heard he neglected very much, and took to that usual Remedy of Cares, drinking: He said it was to cure his Grief for the loss of his Mistress, and truly that is to be lamented, when the loss of a good Estate is the Cause of it. However he is comforted for both now, and Married to a Woman with a great Fortune. I was very glad to be rid of my Lover, tho I was sorry 'twas by his misfortune. Thus Cleander you have an Account of the first Adventures of my Life; which made me early know some uneasy hours: By the next Post I'll acquaint you with a Catalogue of Lovers( that is, they were my En passant, in taking their Rounds, and served better to divert me than the most Romantick Constancy, without giving themselves, or me any trouble) but it's indeed time to make an end. Adieu my Friend, think of me always, and writ as often as you can to Olinda.   

LETTER II.  
TO proceed in Order in my Relation, I must begin with one, who in Respect of his years as well as the time in which I knew him, demands the Pre-eminence. He was a Dutch Coll. about threescore; don't you think one of his Country and Years will make a pretty Lover? But Old as he was, he had a Mistress in the House with him. I was younger than she, and I believe I may say, without Vanity, I had some other Advantages over her; so that the Old Spark had a Months mind to me; and I, partly to plague her, and partly to divert myself, received all his Addresses with a great deal of complaisance. I could perceive her fret within her self, tho she durst not show it. She was in great Fear of losing him; for the Man's money had such Charms, as atoned for his want of 'em, tho he was ugliness in perfection;( if that ben't nonsense) and 'twas the best Jest in the World to me, to see him squint an Amorous Glance upon me, with one Eye, whilst t' other was watching whether she took Notice of him; for we lodged in one House together; so that I could not avoid often being with them both, nor indeed did I endeavour it; for I took a malicious pleasure in Laughing at their Follies: Since there's nothing so ridiculous as an Antiquated Lover, who has the Vanity to believe he is beloved, and a Jealous Woman, who has not Discretion enough to hid it. That I might be sufficiently entertained with both, one day I began a Discourse of Young and Old Lovers, preferring the last as more Constant, more Fond, and more Solid than the first: He smiled, and took me by the Hand, and gave me a thousand Commendations for the Wisdom of my choice; Nay, and so far forgot himself, that he applied it to himself, and said such passionate things, as would have been extravagant from a young Fellow. She with a great deal of Heat contradicted all I had said, and  told all the impertinences and inconveniences one finds in an Old Man( which she experimentally knew better than I) without considering how far it touched him, she was so earnest against me. This made him so Angry, and her so out of Countenance when she Reflected so upon what she had said, that I was never better diverted: She did not know what Excuse to make for her self, and in fine the dispute grew so high, that at last they partend. Upon this the Coll. was hotter upon me than ever; he pestered me continually with his Visits, and the Brute so little understood my Raillery, that he pretended an Interest in me, and would check me when he saw any body younger than himself with me; but I gave him such Answers, that he did not know what to make of me. When he had Orders for Flanders he  told me I must prepare myself to go with him, and I should live as great and happy as a Queen; I said I would go with all my heart upon Condition his Son should be always with us: The Old Man started, my Son Child, what would you do with him? I think he is fitter company for me than you, says I, and so I left him, so ashamed that he shunned seeing me ever after. He e'en went to Flanders without me, and vowed, young as he was, he would never have any thing to do with Woman more. Thus I was rid of my Old Impertinent, whose place was soon supplied by one of those gay youths who never wait for the slow Gifts of pity, but Ravish little Favours from us, as if they were their due; who make it impossible for us to think it a Crime to give what they ask with so much boldness; and who are always endeavouring to divert her they design to please. He Courted me with Balls, music, and Entertainments, and in the midst of 'em would now and then whisper some pretty Love Maggots. I was first acquainted with him at a Relations of mine at Greenwich: He was an Officer in the Army, and was then in the Camp upon Black-Heath; and being very well known in the House where I was, he came often there. He had heard several things of me to my Advantage▪( for famed generally flatters or detracts) as, that I sung well, was handsome, and so forth: And I was  told, that he was very well accomplished, and the Neatest, Prettiest, Gentilest young fellow that was to be seen in the whole Army: So that we had both a great desire to see one another, and were very well acquainted the first time we met: He  told me he had a violent Passion for me, and he did not doubt but I had a little Love for him; he came to see me every day whilst I was there; carried me to all the Diversions that were to be had about the Country; and when I was going to London, he  told me he would soon follow me: But as soon as you come to Town, Faith Olinda, you shall writ to me, as you hope to see me again; for I can't live without hearing you arrived safe▪ So I Writ a thousand little mad things, and he answered me at the same Rate, only a great deal of Airy Love mingled with it. The following Week he came to see me▪ and from that day I was never suffered to rest for one frolic or other: All the time he stayed, I lived a pleasant sort of a Life, till he went to Fight abroad, and got two or three new Mistresses to divert; for those sort of Men never remember the Absent; their Love never enters the Heart, nor do they often gain ours; they seldom fail to please in dead, and they force us to think of 'em sometimes whether we will or not; but they are neither Discreet, nor Constant enough to go any further: I suppose he forgot me as soon as he left me, and I was not much behind hand with him. After he was gone, I had scarce a breathing time before another of his Profession, more serious and more designing, succeeded him: He had a good Estate, and passed in the World for a Man of Honour, and therefore was received by my Mother favourably enough. I neither liked, no disliked him; but treated him with Civility, till I found out that his designs were not very Honourable; and then I thought it time to alter my Behaviour: I forbid him to see me, and when he came to our Lodgings, I was denied to him, thô he knew I was at home; upon which he left off coming, and when some of his Comrades asked him the Reason, he  told them, he knew me too well, and that he did not think a Creature so young could be so lewd. Observe, my Friend, how unhappy Women are, who are thus exposed to lose either their Virtue, or their Honor; if I had complied with him, perhaps none would have been more careful of my famed than he: But how much my Choice is to be preferred, none but those who have experienced the unexpressible satisfaction it gives can know. I heard of it with a great deal of indifference, and did not so much as hate the Author of the scandal. The next in waiting was a French Beaux: He had a great stock of Wit, but more Vanity; a mighty Flatterer, and one who took much pains to persuade credulous Women that he loved 'em; and if he succeeded he always forsook 'em, and sometimes gratified his Vanity to their Cost, who had been indiscreet enough to give him occasion. He laid his Baits to catch me, he vowed, and Swore, and danced, and Sung eternally by turns; but I was too wary to be caught, thô he made me a hundred Protestations, I was the only Woman he ever did, or ever could Love; followed me where ever I went, and in spite of the greatest Rigour I could use, would not forbear haunting me. I did not know how to free myself from the Impertinence of this Fop; but I thought if I could convince him of one Act of Inconstancy, he would not have the Confidence to trouble me any more: I had many contrivances in Order to it, but at last I fixed upon one that was probable enough to take with one of his Humour. I Writ a Letter( disguising my Hand) as from a Woman extremely in Love with him, and desired him to tell me sincerely whither he was engaged or not; for I was too just to rob any Woman of his Heart, and too Nice to be content with a part of it. I  told him if he was free, I would meet him, the next day at the Bird-Cage in the Park: He sent a very obliging Answer to the unknown Lady; said, he was passionately in Love with her Wit; that if her Beauty were Answerable, he must be undone; however 'twould be such a pleasing Ruin, that he waited with the highest impatience for the appointed hour, when he might assure her by word of Mouth, his Heart was wholly at her dispose. Just as I had done Reading this Letter he came in, and for a Proof of his Constancy, shew'd me that which I had sent him, with another which he said was the Answer he designed to sand; wherein he  told her, he was already so deeply in Love, 'twas impossible for him to change; with abundance of fine things of the Person he loved. This was good sport for me, and I had much ado to keep my Countenance; I used all my rhetoric to persuade him to stay with me; a thing I had never desired of him before, and now 'twas in vain: He pretended earnest business, and went long before the hour, he was so very impatient. When he was gone, I changed my Clothes, took a Lady with me, who was Privy to the Affair, and went to the aforesaid Place. We were in Masks, and it being duskish, he did not know us; but after I had bantered him for some time, I discovered myself: I can't describe to you the different Passions that affencted him; sometimes he was in a Rage with me for putting such a Deceit upon him, sometimes he would frame weak Excuses for what he had done, and sometimes he was not able to speak at all for Grief, that he was not only disappointed of a New Mistress, but had lost all hopes of gaining one he had Courted so long, with so much assiduity. I went home, as well pleased with losing one, as I have sometimes been, with making a Conquest, in full hopes I should be plagued with him no more, and I was not deceived. You see, Cleander, what a Miscellany of Lovers, if I may call 'em so, I have had all of different humours, but none that had found out the Secret to please me: They have done enough if they contribute any thing to your diversion, and made a sufficient recompense for all their former Impertinence to  
Your faithful ●riend Olinda.   

LETTER III.  
My Friend,  
THE Reflections you made upon my two last, are so Just, so Profitable, and so Pleasant, that through them I see the Author's great Capacity, that can make so good use of such little things; and while I red, bless my kind Fate that made you my Friend, when the Good and Wise are so scarce; and wonder how so particular a Blessing came to be my Lot; which more than doubly satisfies for all I suffered by Clarinda's falseness. I believe you think it strange I never mentioned her, in any of the Passages of my Life, since it was befo●● many that I have  told you of, that I knew and loved her: But I could not have named her without some Mark o● kindness, that I either showed, or received from her, which I would willingly forget, and could not now speak of her, but when I put your Friendship in compensation with her Ingratitude. But since I am fallen upon this Subject, I will let you know a little better than you do, the only Woman that I ever trusted, not with any Secret, for you see I then had none of consequence; but with my Love, and in that she betrayed me. Her Sister often  told me, she was sorry to see so sincere a Friendship bestowed upon one that knew so little how to Value it; that Clarinda was the same to all, which she pretended to be only for me: That she was always fondest of her new acquaintance, and would Sacrifice, or Ridicule the Old, the better to Caress 'em: But I knew there had been some Quarrels betwixt them, and therefore would not believe it, till I found it too true; and then my partiality for her, changed into as great an Error on the other hand, for I involved the whole Sex in her Faults, and with Aristotle( I hope one may condemn ones self with Aristotle) Repented that I had ever Trusted a Woman. I don't know whether I forgot I was one, or whither I had the Vanity to think myself more perfect than the rest; but I resolved none of the Sex was capable of Friendship; and continued in that Opinion till, I knew Ambrisia who( if one may judge by the Rule of Contraries, convinces me of injustice) for she is just Clarinda's Antipodes. Clarinda loves new Faces, and professes a particular kindness at first sight; Ambrisia is a long time before she goes beyond Civility, and never does but to those whom she has well observed, and found 'em Worthy: Clarinda will Rail at one Friend to engage another: Ambrisia can't hear an innocent person, thô her Enemy, accused without defending 'em: Clarinda will be one day fond to extravagance, and the next as indifferent for the same person: Ambrisia is always the same, and where once she loves, she never changes: Clarinda is easily Angry: Ambrisia is perhaps too mildred. Clarinda has Wit indeed, but 'tis not tempered by judgement, so that it makes her often do, and say a hundred things that call her discretion in question: Ambrisia has a Solid and piercing judgement, one would think all she says was the Result of premeditation, she speaks such Wise and such surprising things, and yet her Answers are so ready, that one would Swear she did not think at all; her Actions are always most regular; I believe she never could accuse her self of an imprudent one. This is a true and unprejudiced Character of both; and if you wonder how I could love a Woman with such gross Faults, I must tell you, some of 'em I did not know then; some I excused, for I did not expect perfection, and some my partial kindness made me cover with the Name of some Neighbouring Virtue. You know, Ambrisia has as great advantages of Clarinda in Body as in Mind: I have often heard you praise her outward Beauty, and now I have shew'd you the Beauties of her Soul, thô they are far greater than I can express, give me leave to wish her yours. Forgive me if I mingle a little self-Interest in my wishes for you, I can't resist a thought of joy for the hopes of finding two Noble Friends in one, by such a happy Union: Think of it Cleander; you only deserve one another. I know you will bid me take your Advice, and show you the way; but I shall tell you things that will convince you, my Refusal is reasonable. I was just fifteen years Old when a particular Friend of my Mothers butted her Husband; whose Grief was so great, that my Mother durst hardly leave her; she stayed with her Night and Day, and managed all her Affairs for her. She went to Cloridon's, who had had a Friendship for the deceased;( for they were forced to make use of that, and his Authority in a business, wherein the Widow had liked to be wronged) but Men of his Quality are not always at Leisure, and must be waited on; so that thô my Mother went two or three times, she did not see him, and having other Affairs of her own, and her Friends in hand, besides being obliged to be much with her, she could not Watch his Hours: However 'twas a thing of too great consequence to be neglected: So she Writ a Letter to him, and ordered me to carry it, and to deliver it into his own Hand. I went often to his Lodgings before I could speak with him, and carried Clarinda with me: At last I was appointed an hour when I should certainly meet with him, and she happened to be so engaged, she could not possibly go with me. I knew no body else I could use so much freedom with, and was forced to go alone. I did not wait long before I was admitted, and he approached me with that aweful Majesty which is peculiar to him; and that commands respect from all that see him. Whilst he held the Letter I gave him, I looked at him sometimes; but still I met his Eyes, so that I could not view him well, thô I saw enough to think him the Charming'st Man in the World: He asked my Name, and whose Daughter I was? which when I  told him, he said he knew my Father very well; that he was a Worthy Man, and that for his sake he would do any thing for me that lay within his Power. I thanked him thô I took it for a Courtiers compliment, and desired an Answer to the business I came about. I will go myself instantly, says he, to see what can be done in it, and give you an Account of it in the Afternoon; but there's so much Company at my Lodgings, that 'tis not a convenient place for you: Can't you come somewhere else? Yes my Lord, says I, very innocently, where you please: If you will be in a Hackney Coach then, at Five a Clock by Covent-Garden Church, I will come to you, and let you know what I can do for your Friend. I  told him I would, and went away very well satisfied with him, for I had no apprehensions of any design, from a Man of his Character. You know all the World thinks him the fondest Husband upon Earth, and that he never had a thought of any Woman but his Wife, since he married her: This made me secure, and I did not fail to go at the appointed hour. My Mother knew nothing of it till afterwards; for I did not see her that day. When he came to me, he  told me, what he had done; informed himself of some things that were necessary for him to know, that Related to the business, and assured me, he would do the Widow Justice. Then he renewed his Promise to me with Protestations, that I should command him as far as his Authority or Interest could go; and begged me to make use of him either for my Relations, or myself when ever I had occasion. After he had made me some Speeches of my Wit and Beauty, we partend, and as soon as I saw my Mother, I  told her all that passed between us. She was extreamy pleased to have so great a Man her Friend; especially, one that she had no Reason to suspect of any ill Design, since he had taken no advantage of so favourable an opportunity as I had given him to discover himself, if he had any; nor had not so much as desired to continue the Correspondence. The next day the business was concluded more to our satisfaction than was expected. Sometime after this, a Gentleman of my Mothers acquaintance  told her, that he had a mind for a Commission in the Army, and that he would give a considerable sum of money to any Body that would procure it. My Mother said, she'd try her Interest, and made me writ to Cloridon about it. He sent me an obliging Answer, and desired to see me at the same Place where we met before, that I might give him an exact Account of the person I recommended, and Answer some Questions about him more particularly than I could do by Writing. I did so in the first part of our Conversation; and then he begun to talk of the many ills that Attend greatness, of which he said, Flattery was the Chief; for it was the greatest Unhappiness to be soothed in ones Faults: But Olinda, continued he, in you I see all that Sincerity and Ingenuity that is requisite for a Friend, and I should think myself very Happy, if you would let me see you sometimes; if you would tell me of my Faults, and what the World says of me. You Honour me too much my Lord, says I, but you have taken such care to make all Virtues your own, that there's no Room left for Flattery, or Correction. To be short, after a great many Compliments of this Nature he  told me, 'twould be an Act of so great goodness, That he was sure I could not deny him. But what will the World think, says I, of such private Meetings? If neither you, nor I, tell it, it won't be known, says he, as it should, if I came to Visit you: So that I may have the same Innocent Pleasure of seeing you, which you would not deny me in public, without making any Noise: And since I assure you I have only a Friendship for you, it can't shock your Virtue. I neither Granted, nor denied him his Request; for I did not know whither I should do the First, and I could not Resolve to do the last; both because it might be a hindrance to our business, and because I was very well pleased with his Conversation. Nothing could be more agreeable; he is a Man of as much sense, and as Great Address, as any I ever knew: But what is more to be commended and wondered at in a Statesman? he never promised any thing that he did not perform. He gave me his Word for the Commission I desired; appointed me a day when I should meet him, to receive it; and kept it punctually. These were such great Obligations, that I could not but have some acknowledgements for' em. There was nothing talked of in our House, but Cloridon's Generosity; and about that time, all the Town Rung of some great Actions he had then performed: So that all things Contributed to increase my Esteem of him. I Writ him a Letter of Thanks, and he  told me in his Answer, that he desired no other recompense for all he could do for me, but to see me sometimes. I considered, that there was no danger in seeing a Man, that was so great a Lover of his Lady; and that professed only a Friendship for me: That if ever he should change, I could easily forbear it, and that whatever happened, my Virtue was a sufficient Guard. So I consented to it, without letting my Mother know any thing of it. But I must delay telling you what these secret Meetings produced; for time and Paper fails me, and will scarce give me leave to assure you that I am  
Your tenderest Friend, Olinda.   

LETTER IV.  
YOU would pity rather than chide me, Cleander, if you knew the Cause of my not Writing to you all this while. I have not been one moment alone for this Fortnight past, but condemned to entertain a mixed Company, all of different Humours, different ways of Living, and of Conversing; so that 'twas almost impossible to please one without Contradicting anothers Humour. You may judge how uneasy this was to me; for I've often  told you, I had rather be all my Life alone, than with a Company that is not chosen: That I sometimes prefer Solitude even to the best, and that I had now retired to avoid the World: But I find one never enjoys any thing without disturbance that one places one's happiness in; and I was to blame, to expect a singular Fate should be cut out for me. But whatever Accident deprives me of any thing else I Love, I can never be unfortunate; if Cleander continues to be my Friend. You may Remember I broken off my last, where I had resolved to see Cloridon, as he desired. We met as often as we could, extremely to both our satisfactions: He  told me all his little uneasinesses, and had so great a Confidence in me, that he discovered some intrigues of State to me, that are yet unknown to some that think they are not strangers to the most secret transactions of the Court; and he never undertook any of his own Affairs of greatest moment, without asking my Advice. Thus we lived for two Months, and nothing passed that gave me Reason to Repent an Action, that was not ill in itself; but might be so by the Consequences of it, till one day, when he had been telling me several things which concerned him nearly: But there's one Secret, says he, Olinda, that I have never  told you yet, tho' it takes up all my Heart; but 'tis that I believe you know it too well already. I said, I could not so much as guess at it. What, Olinda interrupted, is it possible you should be be Ignorant, That I am the most in Love of any Man in the World? How could you imagine, I that knew you so well, could have only a could Respect or Friendship for you? No, no, Olinda, I Love you; I love you Ardently; I cannot live unless you give me leave to tell you so; and to hope that you will one day return it. I was so amazed at this Discourse, I did not know what to Answer: It vexed me to be obliged to alter my way of Living with him; but I did not find myself so Angry at his Love as I ought. However I disguised my thoughts, and put on all the Severity that is needful in such Cases. I have more Reason to be displeased with such a Declaration from you my Lord, said I, than any other: You that say you knew me so well; What have you seen in me to Encourage it? Have I ever given you occasion to suspect my Virtue? Or is it that you are tired with my Conversation, and therefore take this most effectual means to be freed from it? inhuman Fair! said he, Must you hate me because I love you? can you Resolve not to let me see you, only because you know I desired it more than before? In short, he said the most passionate things that a Lover can imagine, and tho I found he moved my Heart too much, I dissembled well enough to hid it from him. Nothing he said, could prevail with me to see him, and I hoped Absence would help me to forget him. He Writ many melancholy Letters to me, telling me all the Court took Notice of his Grief; that it would shortly be his Death, if I would not see him; and begged me to live with him as I had done, and he would never speak to me of his Love. But still I refused, tho unwillingly. I was Angry at myself for thinking of him, and for being pleased, when some  told in Company where I was, that he had been so out of Humour for some time, that no Body durst speak to him of business. I loved to think it was for me, and asked a hundred Questions about him. But now the public Affairs obliged him to go to Flanders, where he performed Actions Worthy of himself. His Valour, Generosity, and Liberality were talked of every where; which still more and more engaged me. I could not but have some Inclination for so fine a Man, when I considered that he loved me too: However I believed I had only that Esteem for him which I thought due to his Merit, and that Gratitude which the Obligations I had to him required. But I grew insensibly more Melancholy than Usual. One Evening that my Mother and I were taking a serious Walk by the Canal in St. James's Park, a Gentleman of her Country, and Acquaintance, seeing us at a distance, came to bear us Company: The Air being pretty Cool, we wore our Masks, and after we had made two or three Turns, he saw a Friend of his, of the same Nation coming towards us. That, says he, is Antonio Son to my Lord— He is a very well accomplished Gentleman, and has a good Estate, I wish he were Married to Olinda. I know the Family, and have heard of him, replied my Mother, I should not dislike the Match. By this time he was come up to us, and after having begged Pardon for intruding, and leave to Walk with us, he turned of my side. He had not seen my Face, for it was duskish, and I only made a Fashion of lifting my Mask upon our first compliments; but yet he said abundance of fine things, of my Beauty and Charms. After half an Hours Conversation we were going home, and they would needs wait upon us, but one of his Servants met him, and  told him he had been looking for him a long time; some Friends of his that were going out of England the next day, stayed for him in the Mall, and must speak with him immediately. So he left us to the tothers Care, and went back. The first time Antonio met with his Friend, with whom he had seen us; he  told him he, was so charmed with the Ladies Conversation, that he could not Rest till he saw her again. He answered, that he would not like her if he had seen her, but he would carry him to Visit one, whose Beauty would soon make him forget her. Antonio said, that Wit and good Humour had far greater Charms for him, than the finest Face in the World: But that you mayn't think me obstinate, I will see her, upon condition, that if her Eyes have not that influence which you expect, you will make me acquainted with that Lady whose Wit has engaged me more perhaps than you imagine. He promised he would, and so left him, and came to our Lodging: He gave us an Account of this Conversation, and desired us to continue the Humour, and not let him know we had seen him before; for he fancied a great deal of Pleasure in seeing me Rival myself. We agreed to it, and when they came, I entertained him with the greatest simplicity imaginable: For you must know I had an Aversion for him, which I could give no Reason for( that Passion is as unaccountable as Love) and therefore I was pleased he should think me a Fool, that he might not desire to see me again. I was glad to perceive he was uneasy in my Company, and to make him the more so, I talked very much, and very little to the purpose. When he was gone, he said to his Friend, That if Olinda had the other Ladies Soul, she would be a dangerous Person; but that as she was, he could no more Love her than a fair Picture: That her Folly had only made him the more eager to see the unknown, and therefore he claimed his Promise. He answered, That he did not know what a second sight of Olinda might do; but however not to be worse than his Word, he would endeavour to contrive a Meeting, but he could not promise he should see her Face, for she was very shy of that, as she had some Reason. I was extremely averse to seeing him again, but this Gentleman was so earnest with me, and my Mother said so much for it,( for she was desirous to have us acquainted) that I was almost forced to go; but resolved not to show my Face. He carried A●tonio to the Park, at an appointed hour, when he said, he heard the Lady say she would be there; and we met 'em as if by chance. We had a Conversation that would have been diverting enough, if my Hatred for him had not made me think, all he did or said disagreeable: He  told me I had been continually in his thoughts since he saw me, and that I had made such an Impression in his Heart, as could never be altered. I said, he must have a strange Opinion of my Credulity if he thought I could believe he was in Love with a Woman he never saw. Ah Madam, says he, how much more Charming are you veiled as you are, than a Beautiful Fool that can only please ones Eyes: Such a one as my Friend here made me Visit the other day; and then he gave me a long Description of Olinda, and Related all her Discourse; which indeed was very insipid. We made some satirical Remarks upon the poor Lady, and then we partend, tho Antonio would fain have gone home with us; but we would not permit him. He was very importunate with his Friend after this, to make him acquainted with the unknown; but he said, he durst not carry him to see her without her leave; but he would try to gain it, if he continued to desire it, after seeing Olinda two or three times. He replied, he would endure so much Mortification, in hopes of so great a Blessing as he promised him, but it must be speedy, for a Lover was impatient; and he should be better satisfied with seeing the Ugliest Face he could imagine; than with that doubt he was in. In short, he brought him to our Lodgings several times, and still Acted the Foolish part; but yet he confessed to his Friend, that I had moved him a little; and he refused to see me again for fear he said, that he should Love a Woman that he could not Esteem: But one moments interview with his other Charmer would deprive Olinda of that little part she had gained of his Heart. A little after some young Ladies that I knew, were going to the Play, and begged me to go with them: I was so chagrin, I could not think of any diversions; but that made them the more pressing, urging it would cure my Melancholy. So I went with them, and the first sight I saw was Antonio and his Friend. The last seeing a Lady that was not handsome with me; it came into his thoughts to say, That was she that Antonio was in Love with. He gazed upon her with the greatest eagerness imaginable, for a long time; then turning to another that was with them; Which of those two, says he,( pointing to her and me) do you like best? You amaze me with that Question, Return'd he, for I think there is too great a Disparity between them, to leave any doubt that it must be Olinda;( for he knew my Name) You would Alter your Opinion, says Antonio, if you knew them both as well as I; for Olinda's Beauty is more than doubly valued by the others Wit, and solid judgement. But Olinda has both, replied the Gentleman; which I believe you can't but know if you have ever talked with, or heard of her: For every body gives her that Character. They Wrong her extremely, says Antonio, for she is really Foolish to deserve Pity; I never conversed with a Woman whose Company was so tiresome; she talks Eternally, and not one Word of Common Sense. 'tis impossible, your Friend here, who is a very good Judge, has often said such things of her to me, that I must think you mistake the Woman. I have been too often with her for that, says Antonio, you may rather believe my Friend Jear'd her. Then they questioned him about it; but he laughed and said, He never saw a pretty Woman, but he thought she had Wit enough; so that they did not know what to make of him; but Antonio who would not have been sorry to find as much Wit in Olinda, as he imagined in one, whose outside did not please him so well; took some pleasure in fancying himself deceived; thô when he considered it seriously, he could not believe it. However he enquired diligently of all that could inform him any thing of me, which did more confounded him: For they agreed, that I was far from being a Fool, and he could not imagine to what end I should pretend it: But was resolved to find it out. He came often to see us, and still found me the same Fool, till one day when we had a great deal of Company, I was extremely put to it; for I did not care for making myself ridiculous to so many; and 'twas not good Manners to be silent; however, I choose rather to be Rude, than undeceive him: I often made as if I did not hear when I was spoken to; but I was obliged to Answer, when one said to me, What's the matter with you Olinda, that you are Dumb of a sudden? I 'm sure you ought not; for if it were pardonable in any Woman to talk always, 'twould be in you, that do it so well. I was so confused at this compliment, that came so male a propos; that I believe I did not Answer it over wisely; but as my ill Fate would have it, a Lady in the Company took a Paper out of her Pocket, saying, I'm resolved to make Olinda speak whether she will or not; and I'll leave you to judge, whether she does not do it well in this Song. So she red one that I had Writ at her desire; for she sung very well. I would fain have denied it, but I saw 'twas in vain, for Wit will out one way or other. Antonio seemed overjoyed at this Discovery, and I was as much grieved: For no Woman had ever a greater desire to be thought Wise, than I to be thought otherwise. He came to see me every day from that time, and when his Friend  told him, that he hoped he would not dispute Olinda's Power any longer, since she had made him so absolutely forget her, whom he had once preferred so much to her; he said, that 'twas not the same Olinda whom he loved, for she had changed her Soul: Nor had he forgot the other, for 'twas that Wit, that same turn of Thought and agreeable Conversation which he Admi●'d in her, that he adored in Olinda. I don't know, whether he ever knew, that they were both one person, but he did not desire to see the other. When he discovered his Love to me, I entertained it so coldly, that he could have little hopes, but that's the last thing that quiter forsakes a Lover: And it did not hinder him from persisting. He watched his opportunity, when he saw any thing had pleased me, but still he was repulsed with greater Scorn. I took delight when he was with me, to Repeat often those Words in Sophonisba; The Forts impregnable break up your Siege, there s one for you too mighty entered in; the Haughtiest, Bravest, Foremost Man on Earth. He importuned me extremely to know who this Happy Man was; and vowed if I would tell him, he'd never mention his Passion to me again; But I  told him, if there was such a Man, it was the same Reason he should trouble me no more, as if he knew who he was; since that could make no Alteration in my heart: And perhaps it was a Secret; however, that I would hear no more of his Love. He begged, and sighed, and whined, an hour or two to make me Reverse my Doom; but in vain; and I was pleased that he believed me in Love, thô I did not think it myself. He continued to Visit me without saying any thing of particular to me; and without suspecting the Object of my Love; till my Mother and some Company were talking of the great Actions Cloridon had done; just as they named him, he looked at me,( by chance it may be) but I being a little Guilty, thought it was designed, blushed, looked down, and was confused, which made me blushy the more; and that was enough to fix a jealousy that had long possessed him, and that watched for the least shadow of Reason to place it upon any particular person. I was so ashamed of myself, that I was not able to stay in the Room, and when I was gone, Antonio kept up the Discourse of Cloridon; begun to praise his Person, and asked my Mother what she thought of him. She said, 'twas so long since she had seen him, that she had almost forgot him; but that her Daughter had seen him lately,( and so  told upon what occasion) and that she extolled him for the finest Man she ever saw. This confirmed his jealousy; and the first Opportunity he had with me, he  told me some News of Cloridon: And then asked me if I had ever seen him, and how I liked him. I knew nothing of what my Mother had said; and not being willing he should believe what I found he suspected; I answered, that I had seen him two or three times in Walks at a distance: That I though the was well enough, but not so handsome as famed had made him. There needed no more to remove all doubt that he was his Rival; but how to know the particular Terms we were in was the difficulty; he knew his Character, and thought me Virtuous, and therefore could not fear any thing Criminal betwixt us; but he resolved to try if my Affections were strongly engaged; and to that end he shew'd me a Letter from Flanders, wherein it was  told him, that Cloridon( to the great Wonder of all there) had a young Lady disguised in Men's clothes with him all the campaign, and that it was discovered by an Accident, which he gave a large Account of. I found myself seized with an unusual I knew not what, and did all my endeavours to conceal it, but I changed Colour two or three times, and he having his Eyes continually upon me, 'twas impossible but he must observe my concern: However he said nothing of it to me, and I forced myself to talk of things indifferent. As soon as I was alone, I examined myself upon the matter. Why should this trouble me( said I within myself) who would not entertain his Love, when it was offered me, and I have often resolved never to see him, even when I thought him Constant? How comes it then, that I am so grieved and Angry that he loves another? And that I wish with such impatience for his Return? In fine, I discovered, that what I had called Esteem and Gratitude was Love; and I was as much ashamed of the Discovery, as if it had been known to all the World. I fancied every one that saw me, red it in my Eyes: And I hated myself, when jealousy would give me leave to Reason, for my extravagant thoughts and wishes: Mean while Antonio would not be Idle; he thought this was the time for him; when my Anger was raised against Cloridon; that that and my Obedience to my Mother( if he could get her of his side, which he did not much doubt) would induce me to mary him; and then he did not fear, but Reason and Duty would overcome my Love. Accordingly he had my Mothers Consent, and entreated her to intercede for him; but all this was so far from having that effect which he expected, that I hated him the more: I was so unjust as to look upon him as the Cause of my Affliction, and I was so Angry to see him take such Measures, as I foresaw must make me very uneasy, that I treated him ill, even to Rudeness. But I will leave him and Olinda equally unhappy, till the next Post; and then give you an Account of some Altetation in their Affairs, which if it gave her ease, I believe a little increased his pains. In the mean time believe, that I remain  
Your Friend, Olinda.   

LETTER V.  
'tis not possible for you to imagine much less for me, to express what I endured, by my own jealousy, and Antonio's Persecution: Either of 'em would have been Grievous enough, but together they were intolerable; and I could expect no Remedy, for I knew not what I would have. I did not continue one moment in the same Mind; I longed for Cloridon's Return, and yet I resolved not to see him, thô when I thought that perhaps he would not desire it, I almost died with the Fear; but that was soon over, for a Week after Antonio had shew'd me the Letter I mentioned in my last he came to Town, and sent me a Letter the first Night, filled with the tenderest expressions of Love, and Vows, that all his Fortune and Conquests abroad, could not give him the least Joy, whilst I remained inexorable; and a hundred Entreaties to see him once, and he should die contented. This was some satisfaction to me; but 'twas but imperfect: sometimes I believed all he said, and presently after called him false and perjured; one while I resolved not to Answer him, and the next Minute changed my mind; but I was long before I could fix upon what to say. At last I Writ with a great deal of affencted coldness, only I gave him some dark Hints of the Lady I had heard was with him, which in his Answer he said, he did not understand. He Writ several times to me by private Direction, which I had given him when I believed he was only my Friend; but a little after he sent to our Lodgings, to tell me, that he had a place at his disposal, which if I had any Friend that would accept of it, was at my Service. My Mother made me return him thanks, and tell him, that I had a Relation who was very fit for the Employment, who should wait upon him, but he was not now in Town. Cloridon, who desired no better occasion, sent me Word, that if I would let him see me, he would tell me what was to be done in it; for it was not a thing to be neglected, because there were a great many pretended to it, who might get it by some other means, since it did not wholly depend upon him. I did not know what pretence to make to hinder my going, for I durst not tell my Mother of our Meeting, without her knowledge: And perhaps I was glad of the necessity of seeing him, since it took away the Fault, and served for an excuse, both to myself and him; thô I was sorry to be forced to receive new Obligations from him. I never saw a Man in such an ecstasy of Joy, as he appeared to be in at this interview: He was Speechless, and motionless for a long time, and when he spoken 'twas with so passionate and Charming Words, and Air, that I was not able to say those severe things I designed. I checked him for obliging me to see him, after I had refused him so often, that he might know 'twas contrary to my Inclinations; but( as he  told me since) he saw something in my Eyes which made him think, I was not very Angry with him: And when I explained that part of my Letter which hinted of the Lady, I did it in such a manner, that he believed me Jealous. At first he seemed amazed at what I  told him, but afterwards he denied it so Coldly, and took so little pains to persuade me 'twas false, that I was enraged; which still discovered my Weakness the more. He found one pretence or other, for delaying the business, and for seeing me two or three times, and took pleasure in heightening my jealousy; till he thought, if he trifled with me any longer, he might lose me for ever: And then he begun to protest seriously, There was no such thing, that it must be the Invention of some particular Enemy of his; for if I would give myself the trouble to inquire, I should find it was no general Report, and 'twere impossible it should not be known by every Body, if what I had heard was true. We easily believe what we wish; and when I considered from whom I had this Story, I much doubted the truth of it: And whilst I saw him, and heard him Swear, he had never had the least inclination, for any other Woman since he saw me, I was firmly persuaded of his Fidelity; but my suspicions return'd a little, as soon as left him. He  told me, he could willingly forgive the Invention, since it had occasioned the discovery of my Sentiments, which were to his Advantage; but replied, that he need not much boast of what my Weakness had revealed; for thô I could not now deny that my heart took too great a part in what concerned him, yet since he knew it nothing should prevail with me to see him again; and so I left him: But I could not forbear saying at parting, that he had made me very unhappy, and I wished I had never seen him, tho' I condemned myself a hundred times for it afterwards. I asked of all I knew that had been in Flanders, or had any Correspondence there, if they heard of Cloridon's having a Lady disguised with him; but they assured me, there was not so much as the least Report of it, which pretty well satisfied me as to that: For every Action of a Man of his Quality, and in his Post are so narrowly observed, that a thing so extraordinary could not have been a secret; but yet I was very desirous to know upon what ground that Letter was Writ to Antonio. However I would not examine him about it, because I saw he suspected my Love already, thô he had never  told me; but still continued my most assidious Humble Servant and Tormentor: And I think I was not much in his Debt, for I really treated the poor Man Barbarously. My Mother gave him all the opportunities she could, and one day that she had some business that would keep her out till Night; she left me at home, and gave Orders that no body should be admitted to see me but Antonio. I was so vexed at this Command, that I resolved to Revenge myself upon him, and when I heard the Noise of one coming up Stairs, I prepared to give him the rudest Reception I could: I sate Reading with my back towards the Door, and did not Rise when he came in, till I saw the shadow of a Man kneeling by my side; and then without looking towards him, I got up and walked to the other end of the Room. What, Madam, says he, is my Offence so great? Or do you hate me so much, that you will not hear me ask for Pardon? I found something in the Voice soft and moving, which struck me like one I was accustomed to be pleased with; and turning about, I was amazed; Good God, cried I, is it possible? Are you Cloridon, or do I Dream? How could you come here?— How could I forbear coming so long? interrupted he, or how can I live a moment from you? I must see you Olinda, whatever I hazard, and since you refused to let me a securer way, how could I neglect so favourable an opportunity? Then I desired to know by what means he knew, that I was alone; and he  told me, That since the last time he saw me, and that I had been so good as to own myself sensible of his Love, he had had a hundred Plots and Contrivances to see me; but found none so feasible as that, which he had put in Execution. He sent a Servant whom he confided much in, and Ordered him to try all means possible to know my Motions when I went out, and when I was at home alone; and he had found the way to gain the favour of a Servant that belonged to the Landlord of the House,( no doubt he feed her well,) and she had engaged to be secret, and to sand him word when I was alone; but she did not know for whom she did this Service; only he had  told her, That 'twas a Man of Quality that was in Love with me, and desired to see me privately, to know how I was affencted towards him, before he declared himself publicly. He came to her that morning, and she  told him, my Mother was gone out, and that she heard her say, she should not come home till Night; so that if he would come with the Person that was to see me, she would be at the Door to conduct him to me: When they came, she  told them, That a Gentleman that courted me had been there just now, but she denied that I was at home on purpose to oblige him. I was angry that he should take so little Care of my Reputation; but he said, that it was not at all in danger, for no body knew of it but that Servant who would not tell it for her own sake; or if she did, she saw that 'twas all without my Knowledge. That if I would not give my Consent to see him abroad he should do something more extravagant that might expose both me and him: But if I would, he'd promise never to speak of his Love to me. In fine, by Threatning● and entreaties, and my own Inclination, I was prevailed with, after I had made him swear not to mention his pretended Passion. Forgive my Frailty, dear Cleander, it was not possible for me to refuse the Man I loved any thing that could admit of excuse, and I found or made Arguments enough to soothe my Inclination, and persuade me it was no Fault only to see him. I hastened him away for fear he should be seen with me, but he lingered on for two or three hours, and just as he was going I heard Antonio's Voice asking for me, so that he could not go out without meeting him. I was extremely vexed, but this was no time to fret or chide. I desired him to step into a Closet, which I had in the Room; where I kept my Books, and  told him I would contrive a way to be rid of the other quickly. When I had locked him in, I took my Hoods and seemed to be putting 'em on, in order to go abroad, so that An●●●io could not in good Manners stay; but he desired, since he was so unhappy as to be deprived of that satisfaction he expected in my Company, that I would lend him some Book to divert his Melancholy. I  told him, that he would have found so little in my Company, that he needed not much Mourn for the loss of it: but as my ill Fate would have it, he was so pressing to borrow a Book, that I knew not how to refuse it; I turned the Discourse and sat down, and said, I had altered my Resolution and would stay at home. Antonio wondered at this Mighty Favour, he was so unused to receive any from me, that he was Transported at it: He thanked me for it a hundred times, and I believe presaged no little good Fortune for him from such a Change, thô my way of entertaining him, gave him no great encouragement. If I should give you a particular Account of our Conversation, 'twould be as impertinent to you, as 'twas troublesone to me; I will only tell you, I never passed an hour with half so much pain as that, having for addition to the usual uneasiness his Company made me endure, that of the unseasonableness of the time. Whilst I was freting at this unhappy Accident, and fearing he would not go away till my Mother came home, our Landlords Maid came to tell me, there was one below would speak with me: I went down and saw it was that Servant of Cloridon's, which he had spoken of to me; he  told me, that the King had sent twice for his Lord, and desired me to tell him, that he must of necessity go presently, for the business was of importance. This was a new Vexation; and I stayed some time to deliberate what I should do, and at last, resolved to say I was sent for by a Lady that was Sick, that so Antonio might be obliged to leave me. But how was I surprised, when I return'd and found Cloridon in the Room! I needed not dissemble an astonishment, for I was as much amazed to see him there, as if I had not known he was in the House. He advanced towards me, with a Ceremonious Bow, saying, You have Reason Madam to wonder, and to be Angry at me? but when you know, that 'tis the general Frailty of mankind that brought me hither, your goodness sure will pardon me: I mean Love, Madam, Love which makes the Wisest Men guilty of the greatest Irregularities. I blushed at what he said, not apprehending his design, and  told him his being there, and his Discourse were both so mysterious to me, that I did not know what to Answer him. He said, he thought himself obliged to tell the Truth, since my Reputation would be in danger by concealing it: But first he must beg me to pardon the Servant of the House, and not to let her Master know of it; for he having taken a fancy to her, had wheedled her into a consent, to let him come and see her, tho the Wench was very honest: That our Family being all abroad, she had brought him into that Room, and hearing me return'd, she had put him into the Closet, believing I would go out again: But finding I stayed long, he had entertained himself with my Books, and in removing some had thrown down others, the noise of which had made Antonio open the Door; and since it was his Fortune to be discovered in a foolish thing, he hoped the Gentleman and I, would let it go no further. We gave him our Word for it; and when he was gone, we both sate silent for a long time, each expecting what t'other would say: at last he begun. Cloridon was hard put to it, to be forced to discover such a secret; he that has acquired the Reputation of Chast, found out to be so little Nice, as to take such pains, for one of so mean Quality, and one that has not many things to recommend her. You have the Luck, said I, to find out Cloridon's intrigues, when no body else knows any thing of 'em: And he may thank his Good Stars his secret falls into such hands; if you're as careful of this, as you've been of that in Flanders, which no body but you has ever heard of. I shall certainly conceal it Madam, replied he, for your famed sake; for the malicious World would be apt to fancy his thoughts were something higher than a Dirty Wench, when he was put into your Closet: But I'm to believe what you please, and if you tell me you never saw him before, but in Walks at a distance, I won't doubt of it. I am not much concerned what you, or any thinks of me, says I, my satisfaction does not depend upon Opinion; and I shall be always happy, as long as I am innocent; whether you believe me so or not. However I owe so much to Truth, to assure you, that whatever designs Cloridon had, I knew no more of his coming here than you did, and that I am very Angry at him for it. If you had not  told me so Madam, I should it may be, have thought you would rather have lent me a Book, than endured my Company so long( which you always used to avoid) but that you feared I should see him, if you opened the Closet; but I'm very glad, you will have me interpret your staying with me more to my advantage. I was vexed he should think it was to oblige him; and since I found he was Master against my Will, of the greatest part of my Secret, I thought it best to make him a Confidence of it, which would prevent his Addresses to me, and engage him to the greater Fidelity. I  told him then, all that was betwixt us; and he gave me some good Counsels, not to cherish a Love, or entertain a Correspondence that might in the end prove dangerous considering his Circumstances; but I was too far gone to take 'em, and besides coming from a Rival, I did not make much Reflection upon' em. Advices by an interested Person, thô never so reasonable, are not minded, or at least are much suspected, especially when they contradict the inclination of the advised. I did not tell him, I had consented to see Cloridon, because I resolved not to tell him any thing, but what I could not conceal. I did not see Antonio in a Month after, but he sent often to ask how we did, and said he was very ill himself. He Writ once to me, to tell me he was endeavouring to overcome a Passion, which he found was displeasing to me, and which therefore must make him very unhappy; and to beg me, if he could effect it, to accept him as a Friend, and not continue that hatred for him then, which I had for my Lover. Mean while the too Charming Cloridon and I met together often: At first we entertained one another with all the News, and little intrigues of the Town; he put so entire a Confidence in me, was so pleased to see me, and so obliging to me, and my Relations upon all Occasions, that I then thought myself happy, to a degree that left no Room for Wish; for he gave me the greatest evidences of his Love, without speaking of it to me, which was all I could desire from a Man, whose Love I preferred to every thing but Virt●e; and who I could not hear talk of it without a Crime: But how easily are we drawn in by such steps as these, to things we had made the strongest Resolutions against. In some time he made Complaints to me, and spoken of his Passion in a third Person, so that I might understand him, but I could not be angry with him; and I know not how insensibly, and by degrees I accustomed myself to hear of his Love: At first defending myself against it, and chiding him for breaking his Word; but his Excuses seemed to me stronger Reason than my Accusations; and at last, I suffered it with Pleasure, and without any Reluctance. Thus my unwary Heart entangled itself more and more, pleasing itself with its own Folly, without looking back or forward; happy for the present on all sides, for now I was no longer troubled with Antonio. He after a Months absence came to see me, and  told me, he desired nothing of me now but my Friendship, and to convince me, he was not my Lover, he would tell me a secret in favour of Cloridon, if I would promise to forgive him; I  told him I would, and then he gave me that account which I have given you, of his first suspecting my Love, and how to try it, he had feigned that Letter which he shew'd me; that he had resolved to undeceive me, as soon as he had discovered what Sentiments I had for him; but when he saw how it affencted me, jealousy would not give him leave, and Love prompted him to make use of it to his own advantage. He added, That thô Love had made him guilty of Tre cherry so much contrary to his Nature; yet I should always find him the most sincere, and the most Faithful of his Friends. Thô I believed before that Story to be an invention, you can't imagine how much I was pleased, to be sure of it now. I easily pardoned him, since I had promised it, and since I thought he deserved it, having  told it voluntary. From that time I received him more favourably than I used to do, and took some pleasure in his Conversation, because he was the only Man that knew of my Love, and that I could talk with freely of Cloridon. But now my Mother perceived I had some more complaisance than before, for Antonio; she wondered he talked nothing of Marriage to her, and  told me her thoughts, which put me upon new contrivances, how I might shun her Anger, and yet Antonio come off with Honour. I found him raise scruples against all the Methods I could invent, and often he asked me, if I designed never to mary, and what Reasons I could always give for not doing it; which made me apprehended he was not altered so much as he seemed; and fear I should have some trouble in this Affair, he had  told me, that when he was very young, his Father had contracted him to a kinswoman of his, that lived in the House with 'em, who had a great Fortune, and he heard was handsome, and witty; but he went to his Travels before it could be known, whether she was either so; that he had never had any Love for her: I had a great mind to let my Mother know this, for I knew she was scrupulous in such things, and would not consent to mary me to a Man, that had any engagement to another; but I was loathe to do it, without his leave, since he was so sincere as to tell it me, and because I was afraid to exasperate him. I took a great deal of pains to flatter him into a compliance; I  told him my Mother could not have the worse Opinion of him for it, since 'twas a thing done when he was so young, and that he could have no other Reason to hinder him, now that he had no design upon me, which if he had, I should find other ways to disappoint 'em, thô perhaps they might make me more uneasy. At last with much difficulty he agreed to it, and when I  told it to my Mother, I found her affencted as I wished; which when Antonio knew, he fetched a great Sigh, and only said, Have I lost all my hope then, Madam? and so went away extremely discomposed. A while after he came to take leave of us, and said his Father had sent for him in hast, to go to his own Country; but he  told me in private, that he could stay no longer in a place, where he grew every day more and more unhappy; and that now he had resolved to leave it: He could not forbear telling me, that he had only concealed his Love all this while, to get into my Favour, and in hopes of finding something which might give him hopes. But since I had now deprived him of all, he would not increase his Misery, by seeing every day the Objects of his Love, and of his Hate, his Cruel Mistress, and his happy Rival. I am  told his Father presses him extremely to mary, being his only Son, but he waves it. I should think I had given you a Description of a Miracle of Constancy in spite of Rigours and Absence; but that in this Age, kindness is a more effectual way to cure Love; an unlucky thing, since no body will attempt it, that has that design; but I,( or Fortune for me,) found you see, a less dangerous way to free myself, with more ease than I could hope, and I think it's time to deliver you now, and give you a little respite till next Post, when you may expect the continuance of the History of  
Olinda.   

LETTER VI.  
IF I did not know to the contrary by my own Experience; you would make me believe, that Friendship and Love can't be contained in one Breast. Is it possible you can be so much taken up with Ambrisia, that you have not time enough to tell me of it; and that in this solitude, I should hear of Cleander's Affairs from two or three, before I know any thing of 'em from himself: They tell me, you are every day with your New Mistress, and that you are well received there. I should be pleased with it, if I did not fear, in stead of finding two Friends, to lose that one, whose Friendship I prefer to all other things: But you'll make me almost Jealous of her, if you don't writ quickly, for this is my fourth since I've heard from you. Tell me Cleander, you that search into the Nature of things, that know the Passions of Men; how they are formed in the Soul, and by what means, and what degrees they rise; tell me, how I may give that Awe, that Fear, or that Respect which I hear often talked of, that makes men not dare to tell a Woman that they love her. Is it the Grave, the Sour, the Proud, or modest Looks? Or is there no such thing, but in Songs and Romances? For my part, I could never meet with it; and tho perhaps there is some Pleasure in being beloved, I cannot endure to be  told of it, unless by the Language of the Eyes, or so; for that we need not understand: But there's nothing so dull, or so troublesone to me, as a declared Lover: This Reflection was occasioned by an Adventure happened to me two days ago; a Stripling of Eighteen, whose Father and Mother had been Servants in the Family where I am, said to one in the House( who  told me) that he was in Love with me, and after had the Insolence to tell me himself, that he was in Love; But you little think with whom, Madam, added he; and just as he was going to finish his Declaration, by good Fortune he was called away: Can any thing be more provoking? Teach me where to place my Anger on the Men, or on myself. Antonio was bashful to a Fault in other things, and yet he did not fear to say all he thought, and it may be more to me. Cloridon who treated me with the highest Respect imaginable, discovered his Love to me, as soon as he knew it himself; and many have pretended it, that never felt any, at least for me. The last indeed had encouragement enough, not to repent of what he had done, and Reason not to despair of any thing he could ask; so that after being two years contented with my Love, he resolved to put it to the trial, and begun to pretend to Favours, with all the Arguments he could invent, or find, to persuade me of the Innocence and lawfulness of what he asked: You may find what influence they had upon me by the following Lines, which he sent me in a Letter next day.  

I.  
NOT one kind word, not one relenting Look?  
The harsh, the Cruel Doom to mitigate?  
Your Native Sweetness, even your Eyes fors●ok;  
They shined, but in the fiercest Form of Hate.   

II.  
Is't Honour does these Rigid Laws impose;  
That will no sign of gentleness allow;  
That tells you, 'tis a Crime to Pity Foes,  
And bids you all the utmost Rigour show?   

III.  
All Praise the Judge, unwilling to Condemn,  
Where Clemency with Justice long Debates:  
But he who Rig'rously insults, we blame,  
And think the Man more than his Sin he hate   

IV.  
Dare I my Judge Accuse of Cruelty?  
When at her Feet she saw her Slave implore,  
With hasty Joy she gave the sad Decree:  
I hate you, and will never see you more.   

V.  
Ay! 'tis too plain the False Olinda's pleased  
To see the Captives Death, her Eyes had made:  
As what she wished she the Occasion seized;  
No Sigh a kind Reluctancy betrayed.   

VI.  
If you intend to try your Power, or Skill,  
A Nobler way pursue the great Design:  
The meanest Wretch on Earth knows how to kill;  
But to preserve from Deaths an Act Divine.   

VII.  
Like heaven, you with a Breath can Recreate  
Your Creature, that without you does not Live:  
Say that you Love, and you Revoke my Fate;  
And I'm immortal if you can forgive.   

VIII.  
My fiercest Wishes you shall then restrain,  
And Love that tramples o'er my heart subdue:  
What doubt can of your mighty power remain,  
When even that submits and yields to you?   
I believe I spoken from my Heart, when I  told him I hated him; I'm sure I thought so then, when I saw him whom I believed to have an Esteem and Respect for me, act as if he had neither. I said the most violent things I could imagine against him, and left him without the least Reluctancy: But my Rage, or Hate, was soon Converted to a Quiet, Stupid Grief, that overwhelmed my Soul, and left me not the Power of easing it the common way, in tears, or Complaints. I saw that I must resolve never to see him again, whatever it made me endure: And in fine I saw all that could make me unhappy, without any hopes of a Remedy; for thô he Writ to me often to beg my Pardon, and vowed a thousand times, he would not be guilty of the same fault again; thô he were sure to be successful; yet I prevailed with myself absolutely to refuse to see him, with more Resolution than I thought myself capable of; for I considered it was dangerous to trust him, notwithstanding his Protestations, since he had broken his Word before: And I don't know if I had not some Reason to distrust myself, after having gone so far, as not only to suffer him to talk to me of his Love, but to own mine to him. When he saw this would not do, he had recourse to his old way of Writing upon business; but the Letter came first to my hands, and so I stisted it, and said nothing of it to my Mother. A Week after a Porter came to me, and said he was sent by the Countess of— who desired me to go immediately to her Lodgings, for she had something of great Consequence to tell me; and that he left her at a place where she had dined, but she was just going home. Away I went, and when they  told me she was not at home, I thought she would not fail of being there presently, and went up Stairs to stay for her: When I came into the Room, I saw Cloridon there, and would have retired; but he civilly hindered me, and  told me, he was waiting for his Cousin( for this Lady was nearly related to him) whom he expected to come in very soon; but 'twas a great Happiness I came before, and more than he could have hoped for from Fortune; for at first he pretended it was chance brought us together there: But he knew I must find it out, and so to prevent my discovering it to the Lady, he  told me that coming to visit her, and not finding her at home; it came into his thoughts to sand for me in her Name; for he knew that she used to visit me, and often desired me to go abroad with her, or to bear her Company at home; so that he hoped he might succeed without being suspected. I was in great confusion, and very angry at the trick he had put upon me; and yet I could not but be a little pleased at it too. I loved to see him, and was glad of an opportunity to give him his Pardon, which I did, but made a Vow never to consent to meet him in private, thô he begged it upon his knees above an hour, and said he would not rise till I had granted it: I suppose he was not so good as his Word; but I left him in that posture, and before I went away, charged him not to writ to me any more. This interview served but to increase my melancholy; I indulged it a long time, and thought upon nothing but what soothed and added to it: But at length considering the occasion of my misfortune, it represented itself to me, not only as my Folly but my Crime; and then I concluded it must be a Crime to grieve for the loss of that, which 'twas a Crime to Love; and so fixed a resolution of overcoming my Passion, which I endeavoured to do by Reason, and by diversions. Had I had you my Friend to assist me with your Counsels, I had found it much less difficult; but now I had the strongest part of myself to Combat without any Aid: I often gave ground, and sometime suffered myself to be vanquished by the bewitching Reflections of what unequall'd satisfactions I had found in his Company, and how many happy hours I enjoyed with him; but some good thought would rouse my Soul to strive again, and then the Victory was mine. I find by experience 'tis but bravely, hearty, and thoroughly Resolving upon a thing, and 'tis half done: There's no passion, no Temptation so strong, but Resolution can overcome: All is to be able to Resolve; there's the point, for one must lose a little of the first Ardour, before one can do that; and many of our Sex have ruined themselves, for want of time to think. 'tis not a constant settled purpose of Virtue will do; there must be particular Resolutions for a particular Attack; 'tis easy enough to say, no Man shall prevail with me to do an ill thing; the difficulty is such a Man shall not; he that I love, he that 'tis Death for me to deny any thing to: There I got the better of myself, and at last attained to a calm serenity of mind, which I have enjoyed ever since, as much as can be expected in such a World as this; and which nothing can disturb, if you continue to have that Friendship for me, which you have professed, and which your silence makes me almost doubt of: But there's hardly any thing I could not more easily believe, than that Cleander is false, or Inconstant. writ quickly, for I am impatient to know the Cause of this unkindness to  
Your constant Friend, Olinda.   

LETTER VII.  
AMbrisia's Cruel, Coy, Disdainful, and you believe she hates you; and yet Ambrisia took occasion at play to impose upon you, as a pennance, not to writ for a Month to one she believed you loved. If this had been anothers Case, you would have discovered that Ambrisia's Jealous. Trust me she loves you, and only puts on the usual disguises of Women, as sincere as she is; and give me leave to justify her, and the rest of our Sex in that Case: You have learnt so well to feign Love, when you have none, that 'tis very hard to discern Art from Nature; and 'tis but reasonable we should be allowed the less Guilty part of concealing ours, till we can know whether you are sincere: Besides we know those things are most valued, that are obtained with most difficulty; and your natural Inconstancy gives us Reason to use all means to make you prise us as much as we can. yourselves too, encourage us in it, for you despise a Woman that's easily gained, thô you rail at the Dissembler; and we can't begin to love just when you would have us; so that both for our own sake, and yours, 'tis sometimes necessary to deceive you: And I believe I may add that there is a Natural Modesty in some Women, that makes 'em ashamed to own their Love. Mr. Dryden in his State of Innocence, gives our Mother Eve a little of that; thô some are of Opinion, it had its Birth from your faithlessness; and that if you had not been false we had never been shie. If it be so, don't you think we have Reason to be cautious, in a thing of such Weight? But I need not take such pains to defend this Cause, for mine was a Fault on the other hand, a too easy discovery of my Love: And to speak the Truth what ever we are accused of, I believe that's the more general one. 'tis only those that are as Wise as your Mistress, that can have so much Command over themselves, as to be guilty of the tother; tho if she knew you as well as I do, she would find that she has no need to make use of any Ar●s to try you, or to preserve you: However don't despair, the Mask will soon fall off. You have Reason to wonder at my breaking off with Orontes, since by what I have  told you, Cloridon could be no occasion of it: But suspend your amazement a little, thô my misfortunes ended at seventeen, my Adventures did not; and federal things have happened to me in the year I have passed since, which you are yet a Stranger to. You neither know how my acquaintance begun with Orontes, nor why it ended. In the beginning of last Summer when I was endeavouring to divert my Love, and Grief, I went with a Lady to see a play: She was not in humour to dress, and would needs have me go Incognito; and as we were coming out of the Play-House we were seized upon by two Sparks, who swore they would not part with us; but that either we should Sup with them, or they would go with us. We did not know how to be rid of these impertinents, but we saw if we took Coach we could not hinder them from going into it; so we resolved to Walk to our Mantua maker, who lived hard by; and when we went in they left us, as we thought: But a quarter of an hour after they came up Stairs, and thô we were very angry at the Rudeness, yet they stayed a pretty while; and he that had at first applied himself to the other Lady, was very pressing to be acquainted with her; but my Spark sate down just opposite to me without saying a Word, only sometimes desired his Friend to go away; which after he had plagued us half an hour they did: The next Week I went to Tunbridge with my Mother; and the first sight I saw at the Wells was this Gentleman: He came towards us very respectfully, and said he was very glad of this opportunity of begging my Pardon, for the Insolence he had been guilty of; he hoped the Lady who was with us, whom he had the Honour to know, would intercedc for him. She that was in the Country with us, and who you know is an intimate friend of ours, happened to be very well acquainted with him; and when we came home, she  told me that his Name was Orontes; that he was a Gentleman who had but a small Fortune; but to repair it, he was married to a Rich Widow above threescore and ten; that tho' she was very ill natured, he was the best Husband in the World to her, but he would take his Pleasure abroad sometimes, and she was extremely jealous. He came to visit this Lady, and entreated her to carry him to see me; for he said he was sensible of the Affront he had given me the first time he saw me, and that he was very desirous of some Occasion to serve me; and he thought himself obliged to tell me so, and to seek a l Opportunities of doing it. She consented to it; and he came often to see us, and was very obliging to us. I will let you know my Thoughts of him, because you can tell me if they are just; for he said he was not the same Man with me as with any Body else: He seemed to me to have Wit enough, but 'twas rough and unpolished; nothing of that Politeness which renders a Man agreeable in Conversation. After the common themes of the Weather, and News, were discussed, playing at Cards, or taking the Air, were certainly proposed: But I have heard, that in other places he was very entertaining, and had a hundred pleasant Stories to divert the Company. What can be the reason of this? I 'm sure he stood in no awe of me, as his future Actions shew'd; and he always  told me his Thoughts freely, but plain, and blunt, without giving 'em the turn of Gallantry, which is necessary to take; and yet he could not want Breeding, for he always conversed with People of the First Quality. The Manner is often more looked upon than the Thing; and though I 'm as little pleased with Forms as any Woman, yet in some things 'tis the essential part: There are few Men, whose Esteem or Respect I covet; but I would have all Men keep that distance with me, as if I gave 'em awe; but I could never obtain it of 'em; though none ever gave me so much occcasion to lament it as Orontes. Once, when he was at our Lodging, my Mother was talking of a Journey she designed the next day about Ten Miles off, where she was to stay all Night: He asked me if I went with her: I said, No; and desired my Mother to return as soon as she could; because I should be alone till then. It seems,( as he  told me since,) he had made an Appointment with a particular Friend of his about Business of Importance; but having long desired to see me alone, he would not neglect this Occasion, and sent him an Epistolary Excuse in these Words:  
My Wife thinks I am with you; but Olinda  told me she shall be alone to day, and I don't know when I shall meet with such a favourable Opportunity; so that you must excuse me; but I'll certainly see you to morrow.  
His Wife, being always suspicious of Letters she did not red, went to the Post-house after this: They made no scruple to give it her; because they knew 'twas one of their Servants had brought it; and when she had red it, she went home in all hast, and had her Husband dogged to my Lodgings. When he came there he  told me, that the first time he saw me, he liked my Shape, and Mien, and was extremely taken with my Face, that he durst not so much as ask me Pardon whilst he saw me so angry; and that since he was acquainted with me, my humour had charmed him so, that he could be content to leave all the World for me: And then, Laughing, asked me, If I could live with him, and he would keep me a Coach, and let me want nothing I could desire. I rallied with him till he begun to talk more seriously, and then I checked him for his Insolence; but it had no effect upon him: And when he saw that neither Promises nor entreaties could move me, and that opportunity favoured him, he resolved to try what Violence would do; he had sent our Servant a Mile off for to fetch some Fruit, which, he said, was the best about the country; and we were in a back Room near no Body in the House, so that I was in great Fear; however I made all the Noise and Resistance I could, and was happily delivered by his old Lady's coming in: She might easily perceive we were both in Confusion, though she hardly guessed the true Cause; and I was so good natured as not to tell it her. When she railed, we bore it with a great deal of Patience, and indeed I wondered at his Moderation: I really thought he would have let her beat me to revenge his Cause; but he was not so much a Brute, he hindered her, and very civilly lead her away. The next day I saw him at the Wells, and whilst my Company was Raffling, he took the Opportunity to talk with me, though I avoided him with all the Diligence I could. Don't frown upon me, Olinda, says he, you ought to forgive me; Repentance is all that Heaven requires, and I never in my Life did an Action that troubled me so much; but if you have not good Nature enough to Pardon me upon that, I must say something to excuse myself: If I believed you Virtuous before, it must be by an implicit Faith; but the way to be sure was to try it, and now I shall always admire that Virtue I could not subdue: Why then should you be angry with me any longer than my Fault remains? Though I had a little Prejudice against him, I thought he spoken with more Eloquence, and a better Grace, than ever I heard him before; it may be his Concern inspired him; but 'twas to little purpose, for I was inexorable. I  told him, I did not think him worth my Anger, and should easily forgive him, upon Condition he would never see me any more. No, Madam, said he, I'd rather see you angry, than not see you at all: And in spite of me he visited us often; but I always entertained him with a coldness that did not much please him, though no Body else perceived it. We came to Town in the beginning of September, and he was once at our house, and found me alone: He began to talk of a violent Passion he had for me; but I stopped him, and said, That was not a Discourse fit for me to hear from him. I commanded him to leave me, and  told him if he ever came there again, I would be denied to him: He obeyed me, and I did not see him again till November. He came in Mourning, and  told us he had had the misfortune to bury his Wife. He Writ to my Mother to desire her leave to make his Addresses to me; which she gave him, and then he appeared a declared Lover. I was so used to receive him with Anger and Disdain, that tho I had not the same Reason now, I did not change my behaviour to him; and for four Months my Mother let me take my own way, without speaking one word of Orontes to me: Either she designed to observe what I would do of myself, or she did not think it fit to talk of my Marrying him so soon after his Wifes Death; but when she saw I slighted him so long; she said to me one day, what do you mean Child, to receive with equal indifference all the proposals are made to you? do you Resolve to led a single Life? I should approve the choice in one of a better Fortune; but you must comform yourself to yours, and consider that I am not able to maintain you. If you don't hate Orontes I will have you mary him, he has given so great Proof of his being a good Husband, that you can't fear he will be otherwise to you; he is handsome enough, and very Rich; I believe he loves you, and in fine I think you may be as happy with him as with any Man; therefore, don't be obstinately bent against your own good. He came in at the same time, and seconded this Command of my Mothers with entreaties and Complaints. I had no Aversion for him, and since my Circumstances would oblige me to mary, and that I knew I could never Love any Man; I thought it might as well be he as any other; so in some time after I yielded, and the Wedding day was appointed to be the Sixteenth of May last. How do you think 'tis possible to avoid it now? But many things happen betwixt the Cup and the Lip. You are to know that Orontes's Estate lay near a fine Seat of Cloridons, which he often retired to; so that they were well acquainted, and much together; and that Orontes went to his Country House to make some Preparations a Week before the designed Marriage. Cloridon  told him he was extremely pleased to see him there; for they had made a match for Hunting five or six days after with some Friends of his, that were wishing for him. I must beg your Pardon my Lord, says he, that I cannot stay so long; for I have business that will call me to London sooner, if it be not of great importance, return'd he, pray let me prevail with you to stay. 'tis not to be deferred my Lord, I am to be married: married cried my Lord, prithee what Madness possesses thee, so lately freed, to bind thyself again without any necessity for it? What bait next, not another old Rich crabbed Widow I hope? I have made a better Choice now, answered Orontes: She has Youth and Goodness I 'm sure; and I've money enough for us both. You are in the Right, replied Cloridon; but may I know her Name. You knew her Father my Lord, says he, and then Sir Martin Marrall  told him whose Daughter I was. And are you engaged to her, Cloridon asked? She has promised to mary me the 16th. of this Month, said Orontes, and therefore my Lord, I hope you won't take it ill if I leave you upon so weighty an Affair. Cloridon was not in humour of making many compliments; but he asked abundance of Questions, of the beginning, and Progress of his Love, and how I had used him all the time; but he could not much boast of my Favour, which pleased Cloridon, and encouraged him to endeavour to break off the Match. He  told Orontes he should be obliged to go to London that day, but he would come back again before he went away; so he left him, and immediately took his Journey; and as soon as he arrived, came to our Lodgings, where he found my Mother and I together. Judge of my surprise at this sight, my first thoughts were of Orontes; I sighed when I compared 'em with one another, and had a thousand different thoughts which I know not what to make of. Cloridon Addressing himself to my Mother, said, Madam I am come to beg a Favour of you, which I should hardly have the Confidence to ask, if the whole satisfaction of my Life did not depend upon it. My Mother  told him, that she could not refuse any thing to one whom she owed so much to; and that she should think her self happy, if she could serve him in a thing whech he said concerned him so nearly. He return'd some compliments, and then desired her to hear him out with Patience, which she promised, and he begun. I have a long time had a great Love, and Respect for your Daughter, and would have given all the World to have seen her sometimes; but she refused it me; and I bore her Rigour without Murmuring, in hopes the time might come when I could tell her I loved her without offending her Virtue: But I can't live when I have lost that hope, and therefore am come to beg you not to mary Olinda, as I am  told you design; and I will make her Fortune greater than what she can expect from Orontes. How my Lord, interrupted my Mother, what strange Proposition is this you make me? Be not angry with me, or fear me, continued he, for the moment you grant what I entreat of you, I will leave you, and never desire to see Olinda again, as long as I continue in the Condition I am in: But 'twill be a great Happiness for me to think, that she may one day be mine; and to be assured she will never be any others; and if she be not changed, or that I am not much mistaken in her, she will not be averse to it. He was in the right, for thô I was never an Enemy to Marriage, yet I always preferred a single Life to it; and I found enough of my stisted flamme revive to make my Wishes comply with his. When my Mother saw me much inclined to it, and knowing I had only consented to mary Orontes in compliance to her; she began to think of it as a thing might be done, but that she had given her Word to Orontes, and could not go back from it. But Cloridon  told her, she need not be in any Fault in that, if she would but make use of the occasion would be given her, to break off with Orontes without Examining further. She made some other Objections, but he answered them all, and upon his Knees Swore, that if I Married Orontes, neither he nor my Husband would survive it: So partly out of fear of what might happen, and partly out of inclination to oblige him, and willingness to please me, my Mother consented. Cloridon begged leave to talk with me, before he took his last leave, which he did, and made me some little tender Reproaches for having resolved to mary; which I answered with a more reserved kindness than I had sometimes done; and that was the Subject of many Letters he sent me since; for he often Writes to me. Two days before we were to be married, Orontes was to come to Town, which Cloridon knew, and had provided half a dozen Soldiers to seize upon him in the Kings Name,( for he was suspected for an Enemy to the Government) they did so, and  told him they were commanded to keep him a close Prisoner in a House hard by till further Order: He would fain have Writ, but they would not let him, for they said they had Orders to the contrary. There they kept him a Week, and we wondered we heard nothing of him, not knowing what methods were used to hinder us; and to avoid seeing our Friends who would inquire the Reason, we thought it best to retire hither, this being a private place. When Cloridon knew I was out of Town, he went himself to free him, and  told him things had been misrepresented, and he had been wronged; but in requital he would procure him any employment he would Name; but he did not accept it. When he came to inquire for me, no body could tell him where I was: But a Friend with whom I had left such Orders,  told him that I had taken it so ill, that he should slight me so far, as neither to come, nor to sand to me, in so long time, that whatever he could say for himself, I would never forgive him, nor so much as hear him. He was no doubt troubled at it, but he was not a Man to take any thing much to Heart; and Cloridon knowing he had not dealt very fairly by him, was very desirous to oblige him some other way: And indeed he did him a very considerable Service not long after, for he was really accused privately to the King of a Plot which would have cost him his Life, if Cloridon had not taken a great deal of pains to free him, more than he could have expected in such a ticklish Affair as that; and had like to become himself suspected by it, so that I think he has been more his Friend in saving his Life, than he was his Enemy in taking his Mistress from him. This is Cleander the true Cause of my Retirement, which is very agreeable to me, whilst I hear often from you, and whilst Cloridon continues to think of me. I have sent you a Copy of Verses which he Writ to me just after I came hither.  
Nor could my Rival when those Charms  
By thee were destined to his Arms,  
Be half so blessed as I, to find  
The Lovely Nun for me confined:  
Nor when of all that Bliss bereaved,  
He saw his full blown hopes deceived,  
could be so cursed as I to see  
myself exiled from heaven in thee.  
Strange Contradiction in my Fate  
At once a blessed and wretched State,  
But who— what Lover would not choose  
Thus to gain all, tho all he lose?  
So Merchants strive their Life to save,  
threatened by every Wind, and Wave,  
And see with joy the longed for cost,  
Tho' all they ventured for, is lost.  
Cloridon has just sent me word that Orontes is Dead of the small Pox; so that I shall come to Town sooner then I designed. The expectation of seeing you, pleases me extremely, for tho I find a great satisfaction in conversing with you by Letters; yet 'tis not so full and perfect at this distance, as when I am with you. I can't tell you my thoughts so well, nor know yours, a Question suddenly started, or sometimes a look will discover more to me than you know of yourself; and I would know you not as you seem to the World, or what you think of yourself; but what you are; for thô you are more sincere than other Men; yet there is no Man but deceives the World, in some things, and himself in more, and therefore to be a good Man 'tis absolutely necessary to have a rrue Friend; and since you have made choice of me, I can only atone for my want of other Qualifications, by my Fidelity, which you may always rely upon. Will not the World, when they see so tender, so constant an Affection betwixt us, be convinced of that received Error, that there can be no such intimacy betwixt two of different Sexes without the Passion of Love? In us I'm sure they can't suspect it; when they see you have so much Love for Ambrisia, and me so forward to promote its being reciprocal. I wish it may have that effect, that the Women may no longer scruple to bestow their Friendship upon a Worthy Man, for fear of misconstructions; both Sexes will find their Advantages by it. Yours is more capable to instruct and form our Minds, than the wisest of our own; and ours will be more apt to kerb that Licentiousness, which Men usually encourage one another in: And what happiness will it be for us, to see ourselves the instruments of all the Mens becoming Good, and all the Women Wise?( a more extraordinary Reformation than Luthers.) Let our Friendships then be so exemplary, that all may emulate, and wish to live like us; and by endeavouring, find that there's a Purer and more Solid satisfaction one moment with a Friend, than Ages thrown away upon the Gallantries, which so take up the Hearts, and steal the Hours of our Youth. Adieu Cleander, Correct the Errors of my Life with a gentle Hand of Friendship, and always be as much my Friend, as I am yours  
Olinda.   

LETTER VIII. Olinda to Cloridon. In Answer to a Letter which he sent her with the Copy of Verses in the sixth of the foregoing ones.  
'tis not an hour ago, since I believed I hated you: I thought I could have railed at you, have called you base, seducer of my Honour, traitor, that under a pretence of Love, designed my Ruin; but Ah! Those tender Excuses which you sent me, soon discovered the mistake, and showed me it was only Angry Love, that so Transported me: And now 'tis turned to as violent a Grief, which would fain ease itself in Complaints: But I am so Wretched, that even that poor Comfort is denied me; for who can I complain to, when in Lamenting my misfortune I must expose our Crime: For yours my Lord, has involved me in the guilt; and all those thoughts, and Actions, which were innocent before, must be condemned as the Causes of such ill Effects: For if I had never loved you, or if I had never owned it, nor consented to see you, you had not desired any thing of me that could shock my Virtue: Now I can't think of 'em without shane and anger. That Love which shined before so Pure and Bright, appears now the blackest thing in Nature; and I hate myself, for not hating you: For I own( thô I blushy in owning) that I love you still; Nay, I believe that I forgive you too, but I must never, never see you more. No, thô you Swear you Repent, and that you would not Repeat your Crime, if you were certain of success. Would not you believe I should as easily Pardon your breach of this Vow, as I did the last, which you made me as solemnly? Yes you would, my Lord, and I should be betrayed to things I never thought of yet: For all is solid, convincing Reason, that you speak; and I should soon believe any thing you would have me. Curse on that fond Credulity, that first deceived me into a belief, that 'twas no Sin to love you. Yet sure it could not be an unpardonable Fault, to value one that so infinitely deserves it: To Love, to see, and talk with one whose Conversation is so Charming as yours; and that was all I wished. All that know you do the same, why then am I more guilty? Ah! if your famed had been as pure as mine, we had both been happy and innocent; so innocent, that she, that happy she, who claims all your Love as her due,( even she I think, if she had known our Hearts) could not have been offended at it: But who is there, the most uninterest that would not now condemn us; Nay, the most partial could not excuse us; even we should blame ourselves. Why will you then importune me still to see you; ask me no more, what I dare never grant; and believe— but you know, 'tis not unkindness makes me Refuse you: You know I must be Wretched in your Absence; yet think me easy and satisfied, if it will contribute any thing to your quiet; or rather don't think of me at all. Let us make ourselves as happy as we can; I will endeavour to forget you; don't writ to me, if you love me well enough to forbear it: And if you can cease to love me, without hating me; for I don't find I have force enough to bear so great a misfortune, which is the only one can add to the weight of those which have already almost sunk  
The Poor Olinda.   

LETTER IX. After her Retirement to the Country.  
I Won't deny my Lord, that I used all my endeavours to overcome my Love to you, and that I thought they were not ineffectual: But I must tell you with the same sincerity, that I found I had but smothered that Fire which I designed to extinguish; and when I saw you last it began to burn as strong as ever. I feared it would break out; and therefore put on that Coldness which you Reproach me with so much; for I could not apprehended any danger, from that which I had studied so long; and all the indifference I could show you, was the product of calm Reason; but I durst not trust a fierce and suden Passion. Forgive me this, my Lord, for 'ts the only Artifice I ever made use of to you; and if I had loved you less, I had seemed to love you more. But I can hardly Pardon you that malicious accusation which you make me, that my unkindness( as you call it) proceeded from my Anger, for your having robbed me of my Husband. You know you wrong me, my Lord, Orontes himself has  told you enough to convince you 'twas Obedience, and not Inclination, that made me consent to mary him: And if I could tell you with what Joy I passed the intended Wedding day, you would not doubt of my Fidelity. The Happiest Bride that Love has made, was never half so pleased, amid all the gay Solemnities of her Nuptial Day, as I was on that happy one, which freed me from the dreaded Bondage; and gave me such a Proof of your Eternal Love, as I need not blushy to own, was the highest satisfaction to me imaginable: For I not only saw you had preserved your Affection entirely for me, in spite of time, and a long Absence; but that it was refined and Sympathiz'd with mine in its Purity, as well as in its Ardour: And now methinks we are a kind of platonic Lovers. My Dear Love, do not fear I should forget you. It was not in my Power, when I tried all Arts to do it; and now that I indulge my thoughts of you and think 'em authorized, what danger is there? All my Life is Dedicated to you: I think of nothing else, and my chief pleasure ●n this lovely Solitude, is so●●●●mes to writ down the Passages of our Loves. I am a thousand times more happy than when I believed I had only an indifference for you, and for all the World. Life was then a dull senseless thing, without Relish; but now every tender expression you writ Transports me; and I feel a Joy not to be excelled on this side Heaven. Be satisfied then, I would not if I could, be that insensible Creature again for an Empire: And sure you cannot fear I should change for any other. You have all that one could wish for, if one were to Form a Man; and I have neglected, or despiz'd, so many, as sufficiently show my Heart was made for you alone: Be confident of it, and tell me you believe I love you, and that I shall never love any other. I wish you could add that none had ever moved your Heart but me. Why was so faithful a one as mine bestowed on one, who owes all his to another? But I will not Murmur at Fate: Be as just to her when Fortune is given you as you can; and give her all that you can give without being ungrateful to  
Olinda.    

LETTERS OF Love and Gallantry.  

To Cleander, sent with the following Letters.  
WE—( now do you fancy by the style some great Prince has sent to you; but how miserable you'll be humbled when you find, 'tis a Company of Females Greet you) who having heard by a great Accident, that you are going to Print some Letters from a young Lady to you; have sent you these enclosed to help to fill up the Volume, for as one says, 
'tis not how well a Writer says?  
But 'tis how much that gathers Praise:  
T— n who is himself a Wit,  
Counts Authors Merits by the Sheet.  which we having duly considered, and being a Mighty good natured Crew, had rather expose our Follies, than let your Friends Wit be damned for want of Paper. Curse on you, Cry you, I had rather any Prince in Christendom had sent me a Sentence for Treason, than that such a pack of babblers should have found out my secret. But Prithee don't Swear, and I'll please you as well as I can; tho one of our Gang( by the way, the only malicious one amongst us; and for your Comfort, she does not know you) bids me let you fret a little: But I'm resolved I will tell you the Truth. Know then, that none of us can guess who Olinda is, and but two of us have the Honour to know you, who for the Glory of our Sex are resolved to show the World that 'tis in the Power of two Women to keep a secret: Nay, you shall see we can keep two; for 'tis as great a one, by what strange way we found out yours; and if we should discover that to you, you would have Reason to doubt our faithfulness in your Affair. So you must e'en be content without cracking your Brain about it, and thank us for our Love, thô you Laugh at our Folly.  
If Olinda has any more Adventures, we can furnish you with enough of this scribble to help out the Volume.  
You may inform the Judicious Readers, that if they please to have Recourse to a Book entitled, Letters and Poems, Amorous and Gallant, they will understand some of these the better, which are Answers that were sent to the Author of them.   

Answer to the Eight Letter, in the aforesaid Book from a Lady who had spoken against him.  
YOU are a very unlucky Fellow to lose your Aim after taking so much pains, whilst you call yourself a Fool, to persuade me you have a great deal of Wit: And to have gained nothing by it, but only to convince me more fully that your Vanity is an incurable Disease. For as a precise pretence to Religion is a certain sign of wickedness, so nothing discovers a conceited Fop more than an affencted Modesty; and you have so effectually persuaded me of the Truth of what you say( not what you think) of yourself, that 'tis not in the Power of Man( if any reasonable one could undertake it.) to delude me into a better Opinion of you; thô rather than be troubled with that impertinent Passion which you threaten me with, I would make you a panegyric, with as little Wit and as little Truth as e're a Nonsensical Author in a begging Dedication: And rather than be your Rival in any thing, I would hate both those Qualities. But I know you are endowed with no more of one, than Nature has given you of the other; and as good a face as you put upon the matter, that you are Angry with me at the Soul of you, for saying that which all the World thinks of you but yourself. Oh I beg your Pardon Sir, I should have excepted those Women, which you were pleased to tell me, you have a natural Affection for. I don't doubt but they sympatize with you extremely, and as naturally admire their own resemblance in you: And really, I think, you're very much indebted to Nature, for allowing you so large a Province; whilst the modest Men, the Men of Wit and judgement, are very narrowly confined, and rarely meet with one Woman, who knows how to value 'em: But you may Range about at your pleasure, and every where find so many Images of your dear pretty self, that you can never fail of pleasing, and being pleased. Assure yourself 'tis that which has kept you so long in the Ladies good Graces, and that as long as you continue a silly Idle conceited Fop, that is as long as you live, you will find more agree with you in that Dotage which you have of yourself than you will meet with of the Opinion of Sir,  
Your, &c.   

Answer to the Ninth Letter in the same Book, from a Masqu'd Lady.  
I Must own my Conquest would be very extraordinary, if 'twas as absolute as you say 'tis: But methinks a confinement( as you call it) to Womankind, looks like more Liberty, than suits with the Condition of a Captive; and either you are still Master of yourself, or I am a very generous Victor, it can't be the last, because I would willingly make you a closer Prisoner; so that by what I can find, 'tis doubtful yet, whether I shall overcome or no: And the worst on't is, I don't know what method to take, that may be most likely to subdue you; for you have formed such great ideas of my Power, that when you see it comes short of your expectation, I'm afraid you'll disdain to yield; and what hope can I have of success, by keeping you ignorant of my Weakness, since it has had so little effect hitherto? So that I think since I'm not able to vanquish you by my own strength, I must e'en Dalilah like entice you to discover yours, or rather your foible,( for every Man has his foible) that I may attack you there; thô not so treacherously as she did, for you see I give you fair warning; and you shall have no Enemy to Encounter but myself, so that you need not stand much upon your Guard: And now the Crime must lie upon your Conscience, if I lose a constant Lover,( to leave our Allusion) for want of knowing how to make him so. Therefore clear yourself quickly of that Guilt, and you shall find when I have made a real Conquest, that I can triumph too: For there are no such Miracles in our days, as a Woman, and a conqueror without Vanity. Till then I shall remain assured of your Secrecy, and it may be when you know me, you will have no great Cause to brag of having been subdued by  
Sir, Your, &c.   

A LETTER. To a Lover upon his going to the War:  
O Love! Cruel Love, what Torments dost thou expose me to, what Anguish, what Tortures, did I undergo last year upon thy Account, and what Miseries dost thou again prepare for me, now Alcidon is going to leave me to go to the Wars. I daily fear to lose a Friend so lovely, when he parts from me upon any other Subject: I grieve indeed, but I have not that dread for his Dear Life, which to me is the greatest of Tortures. Why should he expose himself to so many Perils and Hazards? What can be added to Alcidon's Fortune, or his Glory? Is it reasonable he should so often expose a Life, on which so many others depend? and ought we not in Reason to preserve those things, the loss of which is Irreparable, and never to hazard them, far from exposing them continually? Ah my Dear Aleidon, you never make these Reflections, and when I propose them to you, they make no Impression upon your Mind. It is a Sign too visible you do not love those who love you: You do not Love Daphny, by whom you are so tenderly beloved; and my tenderness meets with nothing but indifference in your Heart. You have no Compassion for my Sufferings, my Sighs and Tears can no longer move you; Love is neglected as soon as Honour Calls, and all my Passion unregarded. Ah did you Love me you could not expose me thus to so much Anguish, and plunge me yearly into Mortal disquiets. The little regard you have for your Life, makes me loathe mine, and the Torments I suffer in Loving you are so great, that to be delivered out of them I wish for Death.   

A LETTER. To one whose Songs were more prevailing than his Letters.  
YOU have Written a tedious Letter to me, which begins, Madam. When in point of Gallantry, People do not call me by my Name Cleora I am strangely at a Loss. In Reading over your long Letter, I was still in hopes of finding in some Period at least Madam Cleora, if not my Dear Cleora, which would have been much more pleasing to me: But wherever I cast my Eyes, I only meet with, Madam; Love, Respect, Passion, Tenderness! Truly Sir, you would have done much better to have kept to your Songs. I do allow you to be my Lover in Verse, but I entreat you not to be so in Prose. signed, least you might pled Ignorance.  
Cleora.   

A LETTER. To her Lover who had a Law svit depending.  
CAN you believe that I am sometimes Mad enough to wish that you may lose your svit? It would not hinder me from being faithful to my promise: And I should have the satisfaction to convince you by the Generosity of my proceeding that I only Love your Person, which satisfaction I would prefer to your Estate. I find by your Letters, that Love inspires ers you with thoughts as unreasonable as mine. But yet I shall not be able to forbear following of this sentiment, if you fail of the success you expect in your business. I hope you will forgive my Wish, since it proceeds from a Cause, you cannot disapprove, and that you will do me the Justice, to believe that if I loved you less, my thoughts perhaps would be more conformable to your desires. Farewell Dear Lovemore, 'tis but reasonable I should return some kind expression, for all those I have received from you during your absence. farewell, make hast back again; I conjure you, and believe me entirely yours.   

A LETTER. Of Thanks, or rather an Amorous Reproach.  
YOU Cajole me extremely in your Verses, and yet they do not please me. Having called me Lucrece, where was the necessity of calling me Venus? Is not Lucrece beautiful enough? I do believe myself as virtuous as she was, thô not so handsome. Pray be more regular in your Figures another time. I have a Master to teach me rhetoric every Morning; and therefore unless you writ better for the future; you who pretend to Eloquence, I swear that I will put you to your Rudiment again, when you come next to see me. farewell.   

A LETTER. Without a Subject.  
I Have not yet written to you, and I should be glad never to writ to you, since I should not do it, if you were not absent; and your absence grieves me sensibly. For my part I do not think that Letters are of so great a help as people imagine. For instance, should you do me the Favour to writ to me, I should undoubtedly see your Wit in your Letters, but I should not see your Person there, nor those engaging ways that accompany whatever you do and say; much less that Charming, ye ne scay quoy, which occasions a great deal of pleasure in seeing you, and much regret to leave you. This shows that there is a great deal of difference between seeing you, and Writing to you; and I will tell you freely, that I am not very well satisfied with Writing to you, nor with Receiving Letters from you. To be satisfied in that Point, I would require impossibilities: I would have your Letters, as long as our Conversations, and that you should writ as often to me, as I could entertain you if we lived together. And even that would not satisfy me; for in fine, as I have already  told you, I should see your Wit in your Letters, but I should not see your Person there; and that is the thing one most desires when one Loves as passionately as I do, and when a Mistress is as Charming as you are.   

A Billet of Thanks.  
I Return my hearty Thanks to the Lovely Diana for the Partridges she has sent me, that have been killed by her own Hands. Had she made that Present to I. B. He would have said a thousand pretty things to her, upon the Honour and Satisfaction of being killed by her fair Hands; and would have enlarged that thought, to the Glory and Felicity of those Partridges. As for my part who am not really so Sparkish, I will content myself to eat them with N. and to drink the Lovely Diana's Health.   

A LETTER. To an Absent Friend.  
SHall we never meet again my Dear Philander will you not come into this Country? Shall I never return where you are, and have we only Contracted the most Tender, and most Real Friendship, to expose ourselves to the Rigor of an everlasting Absence? I hate myself for having left you, you made me happy without Fortune, and Fortune cannot make me happy without you.   

A LETTER. In the style of a Romance.  
I Always thought that the Noble Theodolina would at some time or other, mary the Generous Cleodamas, and that an Heroin was destined to a Hero. whatever Prosperity attend your Life, envy itself will be forced to Confess that you are Worthy of them, and tho your good Fortune should not equal your Virtue, you may be the Happiest Prince on Earth. May Heaven who by your Hymen has given a Signal Proof of his Providence, preserve you long for one another, and both for the Universe.   

A LETTER. By another Hand.  
NOW could I Railly myself to Death, that I cannot( as Sir Courtly says) Command my Foible, but that I must give Cynical signor Morose, this advantage against me; who never after this will scruple to call me a Woman, and Ridicule me as such, that for a few fine Words can be Wheadl'd to expose myself in this manner; but seeing you are willing to throw away so much Time and Patience, in Reading and Answering such Trifles, I will be so Complacential to interchange Two or Three Letters with you, and by that time you will be weary, if not ashamed of your Correspondence, besides being to go into the Country, thô I should like well enough of the frolic, because I believe it would be the greatest, if not the only Diversion I should have there, and thô I shall have all Letters that come to me frank, yet those I sand you will never quit Cost, and be worth the Postage.  
But at present to follow your Method, I will so far acquaint you with Urania, as to assure you she is no Beauty, and therefore is Entitled to a mask Cum Privilegio, and to Wit, and so ought to remain Incognito; these are Talents( which thô my Sex are very fond of) we know not how to Manage, and the latter I look upon as a Scandal, it agrees so ill with Woman kind, that a Curse attends it, since among all the Celebrated Female Wits that I have had any knowledge of, for one Flash of Wit, one Notable Flight of Fancy, they have been Guilty of a thousand impertinent Foolish Actions, which Persons of an Ordinary Capacity would have blushed at the thought of. But on the other Hand I am very Sincere, even to that Degree that I hardlp know the meaning of the Word Subterfuge, and were I what Mr— would have you believe he thinks me, the Ladies would not at this time have a Champion of me, for instead of employing my Pen in their Service, I would make use of a Sword to serve my heroic Prince, who Merits it from all the World.  
I will also tell you that the Fort of my Heart is I hope very secure, since it is I believe Impregnable to any but a phoenix( if such there be) that is one endowed with my own Darling Quality, that hates in himself, as well as others Ingratitude, Dissimulation and hypocrisy; that has a great Soul, a true Nobleness of Mind, a High Generosity, and a World of good Humour; in short one that will make a Sincere Solid Friend, and not a Whining Lover. But for the Grave Formal Fop, that moves by an Engine, and has that great Care of the Serenity of his Mind( which depends upon it) that he dares hardly stir, lest he should discompose his Perruque, and Garniture; or the Fluttering Noisy Beaux with nothing but Snuff in ther Heads, and Mercury in their Heels, that daily Frisk from one place to another to be seen, and heard, till they have haunted all the public Places of rendezvous; I Abominate them, and were I what you call an Unaccountable Animal, I would not to prevent Leading Apes in Hell, Surrender to one of these despicable Conquerors. But at this time you know enough of her who is  
Your Servant Urania. April 8. 1693.   

A LETTER. By the same Hand.  
LENT I perceive grew very Tedious and Irksome to you, when you were so hasty to make a Debauch on Easter-Eve, which deserved a far greater Punishment than that you underwent; a Mistress of yours would be prettily served that should writ Fine, Tender soft things to so Careless a Spark, thô one so unknown as Urania ran no great hazard by it: However I am glad the lost Sheep is found, of which I have no other remembrance than what yours has revived, keeping no Copies of such insignificant things as my Letters are. I also very much rejoice for several Reasons that my Letters are not to pass thro' your Brothers Hands, and so far Urania and you agree; but when you come to pled for Dssimulation, I own I am not so Wise or politic to look upon it as a Virtue, nor will I say of Sincerity as you do of Generosity, it has been my 'vice and Punishment, thô I have many times smarted for my too Rigid adhering to it; but its opposite is so contrary to my Nature, that should I go about to practise it, I should do it so awkardly, an idiot might perceive my Heart, and Tongue were at odds. Not that I would be Guilty of such a Solecism in good Manners, to tell Madam Antiquity, that with all her Art, she had not filled up the Wrinkles in her Face; but yet neither would I so far Flatter her Vanity, to make her believe she looks like her great Grand-Daughter of fifteen; and as I would not call the Young Pert Lady Foolish, and impertinent; so on the other Hand, I would give her no Cause to imagine I thought her a Wit, or that her Conversation was at at all Pleasing or Agreeable; she might, if she pleased, let her Tongue run itself out of Breath without my being concerned one way or other about it: It is only those I extremely Love whose Virtues, or Vices affect me; and with whom I use the Liberty to speak freely what I think of their Actions, Good or Bad; to all the World, besides I am in a State of Neutrality, and it is indifferent to me what they do.  
It is but too true, that the practise of the World does extremely Degenerate from Magnanimity, and Nobleness of Mind, nor will any thing I can say, alter their Opinions about them, for which Reason, and also because I am no Philosopher, I will not take upon me to Define them, but only tell you that to me, those who Live and Act, as if they were Born only for themselves, and if they can carry on some little Paltry Interest of their own, value not what becomes of all the rest of Mankind; and those whose Abject Spirits will permit them to Fawn on any Desertless thing with a Title, or that is a little above them, and can stoop to a thousand little Tricks and Shifts, thô never so Base, and mean to Advance themselves, are the Reverse of them; and in a Word, whosoever is not ready to Venture, Nay, Sacrifice his All, even Life itself, to serve his Country or his Friend, does not Answer the Notion that I have of True Greatness, and Nobleness of Mind. As for Good Humour, thô I do not understand by it such a Gay Coxcomb as you have Described, yet I think, there goes something more to the Composition of it; than bare Good Nature, in the common acceptation of the Word, which is usually an Epithet for a sort of People, a Man of your Sense, I am certain, cannot be very fond of being reckoned among.  
If I deny your Request of any further knowledge of Urania, it is not from any Fear of a surprise upon my Heart, that is not easily taken, and is at present in very good Hands, besides not being Mistress of those Qualifications that must Conquer yours, I am sure I shall never be the Aggressor; for to be very Loving, is utterly against the Grain with me, and never will agree with my Constitution; but you having expressed some Esteem of me, I am very desirous to preserve it, which I know no better way to do, than by still keeping you Ignorant of  
Urania.   

A LETTER. Upon a Disappointment.  
Dear Philander,  
OUR best Resolves are often crossed by unexpected Accidents, I had flattered myself that this Meeting would have crowned our Wishes. I flew with all the Wings of strong desire, to the Embraces of my Love; and when we thought ourselves secure of Bliss, then, then to be Interrupted by a Cruel Relation, is a misfortune, a Disappointment not to be endured with Patience: Nor could I disguise my Passion, or my Grief, my Looks, my every Motion discovered both. But your Prudence and Presence of Mind, hindered her from observing me, and consequently from discovering the weakness of my Soul. I hope your Tongue belied your Heart in what you said to her, thô I must confess she does deserve it all. I would not suspect your Truth to me, thô in my Opinion the Calmness of your Mind, on such an Occasion argued but little Love. Your Generosity obliged me in defending the wronged Innocence of Madam N. who unfortunately lies under the Censure of her own Sex. Nothing can be more unreasonable, or uncertain, than to Judge of things barely by appearance or report. I am sensible she is Innocent, and Innocence is to be preferred to Happiness. My unkind Cousin knows our mutual Love, and therefore 'twas Barbarous in her to tarry: Neither could she be Ignorant, that Love admits no Witnesses but the Lover. She  told me a while ago, that she had over heard our Love's Discourse. What tender Words, what soft Expressions! said she, are not those stolen Pleasures very Sweet? I was strangely at a loss to Answer her: Yet I  told her that if it was a Fault, 'twas such a one as most young People were guilty of. At first I fancied, that it would be my best way to trust her with my whole secret, and to engage her secrecy by a generous Confidence. But then again I feared her undermining me; so that I resolved to trust her no farther than was absolutely necessary. And in Case her ill Nature should incline her to discover our Affection to the Old Gentleman, she is sensible that I know how to be revenged of her. In the mean time Dear Philander trust to Love and Me for a more favourable opportunity. I saw you at Church yesterday, where you took up all my thoughts, and all my Devotion. Your Dear Image fills up all my Heart. farewell, Let me see you often. Love and your Prudence will overcome all the Difficulties that oppose our happiness. farewell, I die without you, and cannot, will not Live unless yours.    

BILLETS FROM A Young Lady to her Lover. Done out of French by Mrs. M. H.  

Billet I. She desires his Heart for a New Years Gift.  
IF your Heart is not disposed of already, I desire you to give it me for a New-Years-Gift; since it it is the only thing that can please me from you. If you are Master of it, oblige me so far as to sand, or bring it to me yourself; and be assured, that I can put no bounds to my acknowledgements, for a Present that is so much Coveted by me.   

Billet II. She is sorry that she was not at home.  
I am very sorry I had the Ill Fortune of being abroad yesterday, when you came to see me. It is not the way to improve the first Mark of kindness you have given me; and if you have the least Passion for me, you must needs take it very Ill. I shall never be at rest till I have satisfied you about it; and it will never be so soon as I desire it.   

Billet III. It is Flattery to tell her she writes well.  
I Can no longer writ, since you  told me that I Wrote a Billet pretty well. I have been above a quarter of an hour about this, and the more I strive to Merit the Praise you give me, the more I discover that I do not deserve it. This Expression is pretty enough: And I would go on were I not obliged to acquaint you that my Journey is broken off. Do not think yourself obliged to me for it. It is mere Chance: And I will be sufficiently satisfied if you rejoice at it. writ, or Come.   

Billet IV. She acquaints him that she is going into the Country.  
I Am considering whither I should be troubled at my not being at home, when you came to see me, or not. As you are of an insupportable Humour, in all that relates to me, I think I have no Reason to grieve at my not having seen you, thô I go out of Town to morrow. It is no matter, your Billet will supply the want of your presence; and thô it be not over Gallant, it is gentiler than you are. Remember what you promise, or rather what you give me in it: And in Case it be not absolutely disengaged from the Person who possesses it with less Justice than myself, make an End of that work during my Absence, and assure yourself, that I know very well how to set a Value upon every thing, and that I am incapable of Ingratitude.   

Billet V. To her Rival. She will endeavour to steal her Loved from her.  
I Only writ this Billet to defy you. Who ever you are, I cannot Love you: And thô we have both the same design, there is no sympathy between us. I am Beautiful, I have a great deal of Wit, and am very dangerous. Therefore do not think yourself safe, although our Judge is prejudiced in favour of you. Those who have Courage and a desire to vanquish, seldom want the means.   

Billet VI. To her Lover. She tells him that she is going into the Country.  
TO morrow I go into the Country, with no other regret than that of leaving you. The person I am going to, will not be able to make me any amends for your Absence; And if I have any satisfaction in my Journey, it must be owing to your Cares and Assiduity. Farewell remember me, or forget what I have promised you.   

Billet VII. To the same. Upon her not having written to him sooner.  
DO not think I have forgotten you, thô I have not Written to you these three Weeks. My Heart justifies me so well in that point, that I will not so much as make an Excuse to you about it. Know only that I divert myself as much as I can do without seeing you. I grow very Fat, and very Beautiful. Let Iris look to it at my return. No enchantments will be Proof against my Charms. Tell her that I allow you one Month longer to love her, and that you will Love her no longer after it. I am not foolish enough to think you'll tell her this; but I am vain enough to believe that you will do it, as soon as you see me. I am now looking in my Glass, and I was never better pleased with myself, Wo to all those who shall see me this Day.   

Billet VIII. She Expresses Love and jealousy to him.  
'tis very hard to live in one Place, when one's Mind is in another! were I my own Mistress, I would be where you are. I have moments of melancholy so much to your advantage, that you must Love me above all things in Nature if you do me Justice. Iris disturbs my mind more than I can express: And I am persuaded that it is impossible to writ Verses so full of Passion, as those you have made for her without a Real Tenderness. Pray satisfy me in this Point, or rather tell me that you do not Love her, and speak Truth. I am mad to acquaint you thus with all my Thoughts. Let it not Raise your Vanity, and regulate the Advantages you ought to derive from it, according to the measure of the Affection you desire to have for me. You are a Gentleman, and I doubt not but you will behave yourself accordingly. Farewell, do not writ to me.   

Billet IX. She desires him to writ Tenderly to her.  
I Have been angry with you, for not writing to me: For thô in so doing, you followed the Order you had received from me, a Lover should not always obey so punctually. I easily Pardon a bold enterprise when the success proves agreeable. writ to me by the Person you know: And since I shall be yet deprived of the Pleasure of seeing you for a while, lose no opportunity to afford me that satisfaction. Let me find those soft Tender, Passionate Expressions in your Letters, which you have so much at Command for another. Deceive me, rather than writ otherwise to me, or fancy me to be Iris while you are writing. A marquis of this Country expresses some inclination for me. But a person of your Air and Merit can dread no Rivals. Pages and Postillons are Animals that cannot move me. I will tell you all at my Return. Farewell Dear Friend, and yet much dearer than you can imagine.   

Billet X. She desires him to writ to her about his Amours.  
MY Absence has almost killed the Poor marquis, and yet it hardly moves you. I should be very glad to know from yourself, what Effect it has upon you. But I distrust every body; and therefore rather than be deceived I will deprive myself of that satisfaction. We go for— within these few days, there to pass the Remainder of this Winter. Tell my Friend N. how you design to pass your Carnival, and whither your Iris, that insupportable Iris has still the same Ascendant she used to have over you. farewell, my Sentiments are still the same towards you, and on all occasion my Heart is true to you. My very Eyes are so scrupulous in favour of you, that were you present, and did Love me as much as you ought to do, you could have no Reason to Complain.   

Billet XI. She thinks on nothing but going back to him.  
THey talk of going back to London, and I think on nothing but returning where you are. You need not question but I will manage that design with all that Cunning you know Women are seldom wanting in on those occasions, the which I will make you sensible of at some time or other at the Cost of your Iris. Let her Rail at the Innocent Stars, provided she does not meddle with those that shall be really Guilty of her misfortune, I mean my Eyes, I do not value it. I dread to hear from you, not for fear of being discovered, but lest you should not writ as I would have you. However let not that hinder you from Writing. Vex me as little as you can: And seem to be, what my Charms will make you. farewell, I daily distracted the poor marquis, and I preserve all my Pity for the first Torments you shall suffer in Loving me.   

Billet XII. She upbraids him with his want of Gallantry.  
YOU are the most ridiculous, and the most insupportable Man Living. What! can you think me so stupid, as not to discover your dissembling. You do not deserve the least good Fortune, and this is the last time you shall hear from me. Return all my Billets to the Person that delivered them to you. I will not come back these three Weeks, and if I could do worse I would. Are you not ashamed to have written so dull a Letter to me, and to use me, as you deserve to be used. Unless your Iris had a Hand in the Penning of it I will never forgive you, and that only can any wise excuse you. Do not fail to let me know the Truth of it: Or rather make use of the means I give you to justify yourself to me; and do not give me Cause to hate you with Justice.   

Billet XIII. She desires a Tender Letter from him.  
NOthing can equal the Cruelty of my Fate. We are going from— without returning for London, and we are going to see Places which upon your Account will seem Horrid deserts to me. I am so strangely mortified at this misfortue, that you would hardly know me again; and unless you writ something to please me, I shall not be able to bear it. Altho I venture all in receiving your Letters, I do not matter it. I suffer already all the harm it can do me. I can no longer fear any Danger, but I expect a great deal of Joy. Let them be long, without any Equivocations, Passionate, and Worthy of a Person who only suffers for your sake. farewell, I dread a surprise.   

Billet XIV. She gives him an Account of her Life.  
YOU only desire a Billet from me. Here it is. But the Spirit of Gallantry is lost. Where there is no Gallant. However I am liked by a thousand Persons, that displease me. A Purling Brook sliding softly through a solitary Wood, is the only Object that has the least Charm for me; that and the Dear thoughts of Cruel you, makes me pass some agreeable Hours. This is the Life I led. You give me no Account of yours. But I will not upbraid your Conduct. My Vengeance lies in your Crime. It will be as lasting as it, and I have more Reason to Pity than to hate you. I think you are unhappy enough, in having made yourself unworthy of my Love.    


LETTER. Upon Absence and Forgetfulness.  
HOW wretched is my Fate? I had flattered myself that I should hear from you every Post; that the softness of your Letters, the reiterated assurances of your Fidelity, and the hopes of your speedy return, would help me to bear the Cruelty of an Absence, which to me is worse than Death itself. Judging of your sentiments by my own, and by the Anguish I observed in your Looks at parting, I prepared myself to suffer no less for you, than for myself; Nay more, the very Idea of your sufferings made me almost insensible to my own: But your Cruel silence has eased me of the first, to lay a greater weight upon the last. I have not received one Letter from you since your departure, thô I have often written to you; and am informed that you think on nothing but Divertisements at the Hague, while I consume myself in Fruitless Sorrows here. Ungrateful! is it possible that the most Violent Passion that ever was, should make no more Impression on your Mind. What Injury had I, or any of mine ever done you, to make you apply yourself so industriously, and with so much earnestness to make me the most unfortunate Woman living. I am now sensible, that you never really loved me, and that you aimed at nothing but my Ruin. Ah! your Vows, your Oaths, feigned Tears, Sighs and Languishing were only Snares to catch my unwary Heart on purpose to undo me. You only valued my Passion as a Victory. It pleased your Pride, but never moved your Heart. I find too late, that you do not know what it is to Love; otherwise you would be sensible that the Pleasure of a mutual Passion, is infinitely to be preferred to the satisfaction of deceiving a fond Credulous Woman. From a very happy Condition, if there be any real Happiness in indifference, you have reduced me to the most deplorable in Nature, I am all Despair, Torture, and distraction. Sometimes I wish I had never seen you, but then I soon repent that wish, and hate myself for it: No, I was born to Love you, and in spite of all your Falseness and Ingratitude I had much rather suffer in loving you, than to be happy with my former indifference. I have not had one moments Rest or Health since your Departure. 'tis now the deadest time of Night; all Nature's Calm while I am in perpetual Anguish and Agitation. Why did you pitch on me to make me so unhappy? You might easily have found out other Women more Beautiful, and fitter for your purpose, since you aimed at nothing but brutal Pleasures, Women who would have been as base and as inconstant as yourself, whom might have forsaken without Cruelty. But your proceeding is Barbarous towards a Woman that Adores you and dyes for you. Tho I know you are false I strive as much as I can to deceive myself, to excuse you. Sure you must needs pity me, but I scorn your pity; nothing but your Heart can make me hap, neither would I owe it to any toing but your own inclination. Had your proceeding been as could when first I saw you, as I find it now, you would have saved me many Sighs and Tears. Your Assiduities engaged my Heart, your Transports inflamed me, your Behaviour charmed my very Soul, your Oaths and Vows persuaded me, and my own Inclination seduced me; I abandoned myself wholly to my Passion, and thought on nothing but my Love. I still Love you a thousand times more than my Life; yes my Heart, my Weak Heart which scorns your Baseness, Adores your Person still. farewell, 'tis harder for me to end my Letter, than it was for you to leave me. Do not writ to me, yet do, it will be a kind of Pleasure to be deluded by you. I am distracted and know not what to wish. Thô you have undone me I wish for no Revenge. Live happy, if you can, and forget me least the memory of my Passion, and my wrongs should disturb your quiet. I will endeavour to do the same, and methinks I love you less already. I find a thousand Imperfections in you, I had never observed before. I am sensible that you are Unworthy of my Love; yet I will never hate you. I do not desire to know the success of this Letter, do not disturb my growing quiet. I Rave, my Passion distracts my Mind. My Love depends no longer, on the manner of your behaviour. It is my Fate to Love, and to die for you.   

My Lady T— Picture.  
Madam,  
THO I am not capable to give you a true Description of the Lovely Person your Brother is a going to mary, I will endeavour to satisfy your Curiosity, and to wrong her as little as I can. Her Air is great and Noble, accompanied with a most Charming Sweetness, her Features very Regular, the turn of her Face is incomparable: Her Mouth is none of the least but very well formed, and her Lips of the finest read in Nature; her Teeth are very White and Even; her Eyes are Black and Sprightly, and 'tis very difficult to resist their Glances: Her Nose has a certain turn that is altogether Charming; her Complexion is beyond all Comparison, 'tis a mixture of such White and read, as no Painter could ever imitate. And the whole is attended with a certain Charm for which we want a Name. Her Hair is of a Light Brown, and she has abundance of it. Her Neck is an abstract of perfections. Her Arms and Hands are answerable to the Rest. She is Tall, and her shape majestic and easy, she is more inclinable to Fat than Lean; her Gate, her Air, her every motion Charms. Her Soul is very well suited to so fine a Body: She is naturally Generous and Obliging. She Loves her Friends to excess: She is Civil to all People, free from all manner of Affectation. She has a very agreeable even Temper. Her judgement is great and Solid. Her Conversation easy and Witty. She is very Constant, and never betrays the Secrets of her Friends. She Loves music and Poetry, and Judges very well of both. In a Word, she has more of the Angel than of a Mortal Creature in her. None can approach her without Adoring her, thô at the same time she has a Reservedness that discourages all her Lovers. I am sensible that this Description will call my Skill in question; but I have my End, provided it convinces you of the Respect and Submission wherewith I am.   

Advice to a Friend that was going to mary.  
THO I approve your Resolution of Marrying, which is a thing most, or all of us are fond of, what ever we may pretend, I must be Ingenious with you, and as a Friend tell you that I cannot like your Choice; not but Philander is a pretty Gentleman enough as the World goes, Young, handsome and Gay; Sings, Dances, Dresses, &c. all which Qualifications are very taking with the Ladies in this Age. Solidity, Wit, judgement and Discretion, are Virtues out of Date. Nay, on my Conscience I believe he Loves you too above all things, next to his dear pretty self, and that his Passion may chance to last as long as your money. But then again, as all Men are a Compound of Good and Ill, be pleased to consider that he is very Proud thô very Poor, a Curse that generally attends Poverty, Affecting a certain Air of Quality, that will hardly svit with your Fortune, which is sufficient to make an honest Country Gentlemen Happy, but will hardly suffice for the Garniture and other ingredients that are requisite towards the maintenance of a Beau. His Pride and Vanity will soon consume your Fortune, and you will find his Passion of no longer Date than it. Believe me who have some Experience in those Affairs, Love and Want are inconsistent, and whatever Notions of Bliss we may Form to ourselves, there is no Real Happiness without Ease. That Gayty, Mirth, Good humour, and Complaisance; those Sighs, those Raptures, those Transports that Charm us in a Lover, vanish as soon as he assumes the Husband. Love delights in Joy and Plenty, and consequently is a Mortal Enemy to Want and Sadness. His House being uneasy to him, he will fly it like the Plague, and seek for his accustomend Pleasures abroad, while you remain comfortless at home, to Curse your Fate, and the fondness that betrayed you to it. Secondly I am informed that he is most horribly given to jealousy, as most Beaux are, a Plague that will prove a Hell on Earth to you. You who are Young, Beautiful and Witty, who delight and have been bread in Company, who are of a cheerful, Free Temper, to have all your Actions, Nay, your very looks controlled, your Virtue questioned, not dare to speak, or smile, for fear of Offending your dear Spouse, and of making his Empty Noddle ache, will prove a Torment to you worse than Death its self. Then the Ill, across, surly Temper that attends that meager Fiend, will soon give you too much Cause to Repent your Ill placed Love: You will not know one hour of Joy; your Nights and Days will be a continued Scene of Woe. Therefore Dear Friend, consider well before you engage yourself for ever; Matrimony is a Terrible apprenticeship, unless attended with Ease and Plenty, and free from the Curse of jealousy. Preserve your Liberty a little longer, and do not part with it without a valuable Consideration. Better gnaw your Sheets a while, than to have Cause to Curse for ever. I have made a Terrible Experiment of it. I married my first Husband, a Spark of Philander's Character, for Love, without my Friends consent; but his unkindness after he had made me his, thô before he Swore he loved me above all Earthly Joys, soon cured me of that Love, but still the Clog remained. Heaven in pity of my Youth and Sufferings delivered me of my Tyrant. He being Dead, my Friends prevailed with me to enter into the Bonds again, and married me to one I had neither Affection, nor Aversion for, whose Generosity and good Nature, after he had married me, soon gained my Heart, and obliged me to Love him far more than e're I did the first; and I now think myself the Happiest Woman Living. I would not have you mary absolutely for Wealth, neither would I advice you to follow your Inclination blindly, they are two dangerous Rocks equally to be avoided. choose a Man of Honor, Sense and judgement, one of a Fortune Answerable to your own, since yours alone is not sufficient to make you both happy. Suffer not yourself to be led away by Raw Youth, Flashy Wit, Dressing, Cringing, Bowing, &c. Fools love nothing but themselves, and do not know how to place a true value on Merit and Beauty; and above all avoid the Curse of jealousy. A little touch of jealousy in a Lover is not amiss, it often serves to revive a dying flamme, but 'tis the Bane of Marriage. farewell, once more consider before it is too late, and suffer not yourself to be undone by an inconsiderate Inclination.   

A LETTER. To a Gentleman upon the Report of his going to be married.  
I Do not in the least question but this Letter will surprise you as much, as the Report of your New engagement with N— has amazed me. I could never have thought that a Man of your Wit and Experience could have given over a svit, on which you pretended all the future Happiness of your Life depended, for one Refusal. You are too well acquainted with our Sex not to know, that Custom has introduced a Maxim among us, to seem averse to what we most desire, for fear of being deceived by a feigned Passion, which most of you are but too guilty of, or of losing your Esteem by discovering our Weakness, or Inclination too soon. Why, Oh! why do you reduce us to those streights by your Dissembling? Yet our Eyes those faithful Ministers of the Soul, inform you but too sincerely that our Words and Thoughts are not the same. Surely you did not give yourself the trouble to examine mine, when I seemingly refused a Heart, which gave itself too fast: They would have  told you, that your Words made all the Impression you could, Nay, I fear more than you did desire, upon my Soul. My denial was so faint, and spoken in such a Tone, that it was evident I did not desire to be believed. I am but too sensible that we spoken both distant from our Hearts, I in refusing, you in pretending a Passion that was only in your Words. Had it been Rooted in your Heart, you would have persisted in it; you would have flattered yourself that my avoiding you, after the Declaration you had made to me, was only an effect of Modesty: You would have convinced me by your perseverence, and assiduity, that you truly loved me; that would soon have disarmed me of my Coyness, and all those little Arts which you injustly Tax us with, since you force us to use them. Your want of Sincerity, and Generosity imposes this Constraint upon us, which is now so generally practised, that you dislike those who do not affect it. Why then, Oh! Why did you believe me? Or rather, why did I Credit you? My Heart, my fond Heart, betrayed me to it. I thought that a Man who Soars so high above the Common Level of Mankind, could never be guilty of the least Imperfection, much less of Dissimulation, which is one of the worst. I had formed an Idea to myself of your Worth, not to be equalled on this side Heaven. Your Eyes had often  told me that you loved me and I credited them, because I wished it, and sucked in the Poison greedily; Ah! why did you not examine mine as carefully. I did deny indeed, but it was only to have the satisfaction to hear you confirm your Vows, and to have a better pretence to yield my too willing Heart. But oh! what can equal my astonishment, when at my return from the Country, having vanquished all the Scruples that had hitherto hindered me from avowing the Conquest you had made over me, I was informed that you were going to mary, if you were not already married to the too happy N— Nothing can; neither will I endeavour it. But I cannot forbear acquainting you with the Extremity of my Grief, thô I fear it will make but little impression on you. Judge Cruel, Judge of its Violence by the Effects of it. Nothing but absolute despair could force me, thus to pass the bounds of Modesty, to tell you that if you proceed in this Fatal Marriage I die. Nor can my Rival pretend a better Title to the Happiness you design her than myself. I loved you first; my Birth, my Fortune, Beauty and the Violence of my Passion, claim the Precedency; nor can you without the highest Ingratitude refuse to do me Justice. Not that I would anticipate on any others Right; No, I would die first; but if you be not too far engaged: Remember that you have given me your Heart, and that I claim it as my due. Remember too, that my Life's at stake. But I begin to Rave. farewell, acquaint me with my Doom, I can no longer bear the Racks of Incertainty. Deal ingeniously with me, my Love deserves it, and fear not my Revenge. If you be married, or passed retracting; I will servile myself for ever from the World, and leave my happy Rival blessed in the Heavens of your Embraces.   

LETTER. An Answer to one of the foregoing Letters.  
WHat need I prosecute my svit, since it matters not whither I succeed in it, or not? the Generous Nerea assures me that tho I should lose it, she would notwithstanding accept me for her Husband. Let us fly the tedious debates of Law, and Renounce Fortune to satisfy the desires of Love. It is a thought my Dear Nerea which often offers itself to my mind, and that sometimes presses me with so much urgency, that I am upon the point of coming away and abandoning all; but I am stopped by a second Reflection. Is it reasonable that her Generosity should hinder her from being happy? That after having offered her a Lover without Merit, I should offer her a Husband without Fortune? and that instead of endeavouring to plaee her in a Condition not altogether unworthy of her Birth and Virtue, I should abandon the only hope Fortune offers to make her happy. This second thought stops me Dear Nerea, and makes me resolve to prosecute my svit; But yet tho I have reason to expect a happy Issue of it; I Sigh continually, and I am Unfortunate since I am absent from you.   

TO A Youth of Fourteen; BY A Young Lady.  
WHen God to punish man his Thunder sent,  
The dreadful noise taught us to fear th'evont,  
And carefully the mischief to prevent:  
Sickness Deaths slower Messenger declares  
Him near, and for the Wound our mind prepares;  
And all th●se Engines to procure our Fate,  
framed by th' ingenious Cruelty of hate,  
Before they kill do oft our danger show;  
Nature instructs us to avoid the blow.  
Thou only Charming Youth by Fate designed,  
The sure Destruction of all Womankind;  
Without Resistance mayst thy Power employ,  
And unsuspected safely mayst destroy:  
For who can think such fatal poison lies,  
In those soft blooming Cheeks and lovely Eyes?  
Or how can we the sudden Mischief shun,  
When every Maid is at first sight undone?  
But oh! so pleasingly that tho we knew  
Our Ruin we that Ruin would pursue;  
For who ingloriously from heaven would Fly,  
Tho in th' attempt t' attain it sure to die;  
Yet a more gentle Fate's reserved for me,  
If I my dearest Boy can ought foresee,  
Yes, tho you lately said you would not Love,  
No Beauty e're your guarded heart should move;  
even th●n the Enemy was entered there,  
And seized you, tho you thought no Foe was near.  
Say else, what meant that dying Look and Voice;  
When you to Dance made me your joyful choice?  
Say what that whisper in the middle broken,  
The Rest in Kisses on my Neck was spoken;  
And what can that Officious Care inspire,  
To serve me more than breeding does require?  
It must be love— yet how can you but know,  
W●at you create each hour where e're you go;  
Or have y●u learnt so early to deceive,  
And only would have me your Love perceive?  
We need my Child no such Disguises now,  
A while we may our Youthful flamme avow;  
Our Innocence secures us, but alas,  
Thy Ripening years come on a hasty place:  
Then you must at an humble distance sue,  
And I must seem to scorn what now I Woe:  
Yet sure impartial men would me excuse,  
If I should less disdain, less Rigour's use,  
Than other Virgins to their Lovers show;  
For none had ever one so fair as you;  
And those ungenerous Laws were made alone,  
For such whose Ill made choice they blushed to own;  
Whilst they more meanly yield on importunity,  
Thy Worth absolves me frim the Tyranny.  
To pay Religious Vows all Men agree,  
To Creatures is a foul Idolatry:  
But no less Sin t' omit 'em where they're due,  
Worship to heaven we owe all hearts to you.   
The End of the First Part.   

Advertisement.  
THat Famous Powder, called Arcanum Magnum, formerly Prepared by the Learned Riverius, Physician Regent to the French King; and approved by most Persons of Quality in Christendom, for Preserving and Beautifyihg the Face, even to Old Age: It Cures read Faces; M●rphew; it prevehts, and takes away Supeafluous Hair growing on the Face: In short it adds more Lustre and Beauty than any Powder or Wash known, as man● Persons in Quality can Testsfie, who daily use it with the greatest Approbation. It is prepared only by J. H. Doctor in physic, in great Knight-Rider-street near Doctors-Commons-Gate, a Blew Ball being over the Door where it may be had for 2 s. 6 d. the Paper with Directions for its Use.   

A Catalogue of Books, some of them Newly Printed for Sam. Briscoe over against Will's Coffee-House- in Russel-Street, in Coven-Garden.  
THE History of Polybius the Megalapolitan, containing a general Account of the Transactions of the World, and principally of the Roman People, during the First and Second punic Wars with Maps: describing the Places where the most considerable Engagements and Battles were Fought, both by Sea and Land: Also an Account of their Policies and Stratagems of War, of the ancient Romans, in Conquering the greatest Part of the then known World in Fifty three years: Translated by Sir H. S. to which is added, a Character of Polybius and his Writings: By Mr. Dryden, in two Volumes, Octav. Price 10 s.  
The Lives of the twelve Caesars the first Emperors of Rome. Written in Latin by C. Suetonius Tranquilius. Translated into English by several Eminent Hands, with the Heads of the Emperors on Copper Plates.  
Advice to a Young Lord, Written by his Father, under these following Heads, Viz. Religion, Study and Exercise, travail, Marriage, House-keeping, Hospitality, of the Court, of Friendship, of Pleasure and Idleness, of Conversation.  
The Art of Heraldy, in two Parts. The first containing( in a Concise, but Methodical Method, by Rules and Explanations of Bearings) the Body of Heraldy, the sscond Honour Civil and Military, being a Treatise of the Nobility and Gentry of England, as to their privileges and Dignities, &c. according to the Laws and Customs of our Realm. The whole Illustrated with variety of apt and proper Sculptures for the better Explanation thereof. The Second Edition.  
Aristotle's rhetoric, or the true Grounds and Principles of of Oratory, showing the Right Art of Pleading and Speaking in full Assemblies and Courts of Judicature. In four Books, second Edition.  
The Religious stoic: Or, a short Discourse on several Subjects, Viz. Of Atheism, Superstition, the World's Creation, Eternity, Providence, Theology, Strictness of Churches, of the Scriptures, of the Moral and Judaical Law, of Monsters, of Man and his Creation, of the Immortality of the Soul, of Faith and Reason, of the Fall Angels, and what their Sin was, of Mans Fall, of the style of Genesis, why Man fell, with a Refutation of the Millinaries, with a Friendly Address to the Fanaticks of all Sexcts and Sorts. The Second Edition, by Sir George Mackenzie.  
A Moral Essay, preferring Solitude to public Employment, and all its Appanages, such as famed, Command, Riches, Pleasures, Conversation, By Sir George Mackenzie, second Edition.  
Jovial Poems and Songs by several Hands.  
Ovid's Epistles, Translated by several Hands, Adorned with Cuts.  
Physical, and Mathematical Memoirs. Written at the Royal Academy of Paris.  
The Gallant Siege of Mentz, or the German Hero, a Novel.  
Female cuckolded, or London Jilt. A Gallant Novel, by Alexhnder Oldis, Gent.  

PLAYS.  
Sophonisba: Or, Hanibal's Overthrow. A Tragedy, by Mr. Lee.  
Love for Money, or the Boarding-School. By Mr. Durfey.  
Marriage-Hater matched. A Comedy, by Mr, Durfey.  
Richmond Heirisse, or a Woman once in the Right. A Comedy, by Mr. Durfey.  
Wive's Excuse: Or, Cuckolds make themselves. A Comedy, with a Copy of Verses to the Auhtor, by Mr. Dryden.  
traitor, a Tragedy: Written by Mr. Rivers.  
True Widow a Comedy, by Mr. Tho. Shadwell: Corrected and amended by Sir Charles Sidley, Baronet.  
There is in the Press, and will be speedily published, the last New Comedy, called a Very good Wife.  
Where you may be furnished with most sorts of Plays.