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thought talked best, may speak upon the best subject.
well as to make your religion last to the verge of Christendom, that you may discharge your Chaplain (as humanity requires) in a place where he may find some business.
I doubt not but I shall be told (when I come to follow you through those countries) in how pretty a manner you accomodated yourself to the customs of the true Muslemen. They will tell me at what town you practised to sit on the Sopha, at what village you learned to fold a Turbant, where you was bathed and anointed, and where you parted with your black full-bottom. How happy must it be før a gay young woman, to live in a country where it is a part of religious worship to be giddy-headed? I shall hear at Belgrade how the good Bashaw received you with tears of joy, how he was charmed with your agreeable manner of pronouncing the words Allab and Muhamed; and how earnestly you joined with him in exhorting your friend to embrace that religion. But I think his objection was a just one, that it was attended with some circumstances under which he could not properly represent his Britannic Majesty.
Lastly, I shall hear how, the first night you lay at Pera, you had a vision of Mahomet's Paradise ; and happily awaked without a foul, from whick blessed moment the beautiful body was left ac full liberty to perform all the agreeable fanctions it was made for,
I see I have done in this letter as I often have done in your company, talk'd myself into a good humour, when I begun in an ill one ; the pleasure of addresfing to you makes me run on,' and 'tis in your own power to shorten this letter as much as you please, by giving over when you please ; so I'll make it no longer by. apologies.
: LETTER XI. V ÓU have asked me news a hundred times at
1 the first word you spoke to me, which fome would interpret as if you expected nothing better from my lips : and truly 'tis not a sign two lovers are together, when they can be fo impertinent as to enquire what the world does ? All I mean by this is, that either you or I are not in love with the other : I leave you to guess which of the two is that stupid and insensible creature, so blind to the other's excel lencies and charms?
This then shall be a letter of News; and sure, if you did not think me the humblest creature in the world, you could never imagine a Poet could dwindle, to a brother of Dawks and Dyer, from a rival of Tate and Brady. . ,
The Earl of Oxford has behaved so bravely, that in this act at least he might seem above man, if he had not just now voided a stone to prove him subject to human infirmities. The utmost weight of afic.
tion from ministerial power and popular hatred, were almost worth bearing, for the glory of such a dauntless conduct as he has shewn under it. :
You may soon have your wish, to enjoy the gallant fights of armies, incampments, standards wa. ving over your brother's corn-fields, and the pretty windings of the Thames stained with the blood of men. Your barbarity, which I have heard so long exclaim'd against in town and country, may have its fill of destruction. I would not add one circumstance usual in all descriptions of calamity, that of the many rapes committed, or to be committed upon those unfortunate women that delight in war. But God forgive me-in this martial age, if I could, I would buy a regiment for your fake and Mrs. P—'s and some others, whom, I have cause to fear, no fair means will prevail upon.
Those eyes, that care not how much mischief is done, or how great slaughter committed, so they have but a fine show; those very female eyes will be infinitely delighted with the camp which is speedily to be formed in Hyde park. The tents are carried thither this morning, new regiments with new cloaths and furniture (far exceeding the late cloth and linen designed by his Grace for the foldiery.) The fight of so many gallant fellows, with all the pomp and glare of war yet undeform’d by battles, those scenes which England has for many years only beheld on stages, may possibly invite your curiosity to this place.
By our lateft account from Duke-ftreet Weftminfter, the conversion of T. G. Esq; is reported in a manner somewhat more particular. That upon the seizure of his Flanders mares, he seemed more than ordinarily disturbed for some hours, sent for his ghoftly father, and resolved to bear his loss like a Chriftian ; till about the hours of seven or eight the coaches and horses of several of the Nobility paffing by his window towards Hyde-park, he could no longer endure the disappointment, but instantly went out, took the oath of Abjuration, and recover'd his dear horses, which carry'd him in triumph to the Ring. The poor distressed Roman Catholicks, now unhors'd and uncharioted, cry out with the Pfalmift, Some in Chariots and some on horses, but we will invo. cate the name of the Lord.
I am, &c.
LETTER XII. T HE weather is too fine for any one that loves
1 the country to leave it at this season; when every smile of the sun, like the smile of a coy lady, is as dear as it is uncommon: and I am so much in the tafte of rural pleasures, I had rather see the fun than any thing he can shew me, except yourself. I despise every fine thing in town, not excepting your new gown, till I see you dress’d in it, (which by the way I don't like the better for the red; the