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have married some rich Widow, by securing my Pupil for one of her Daughters ? I would have contrived he should have stolen the young Lady to avoid paying her Fortune. If this Scheme failed, I had another, for which I am afraid I might have been a little censured; it was only to have set him at a Gaming-Table (when abroad) for about a thoufand Pounds, and afterwards gone Snacks with the Sharpers. But on fecond Thoughts, where had been the Hurt? When returned, and at Age, I could easily have made him Amends, by negotiating a Morigage, or the Sale of a Reversion for him with honest Ch-rt-r-s.

Thus, though I had but a hundred a Year, and for no more than two or three Years Service, I could retire to Switzerland, or Wales, with about Fifteen Hundred Pounds in my Pocket, and an Annuity of Fifty Pounds per Annum for Life. In such a Retirement I should have let down to writing an Account of my Travels. When those were finished, by carefully extracting from Gazettes, I should have been able to have left my Executors the Memoirs of my own Times; then would I have indulged my Spleen against the present Ministers for neglecting to gratify my Merit. It is dangerous to anger a Poet or Historian.

I observed at the Head of this Letter, that I have a Drollery in my Countenance; Egad! it is as pecua liar a one as Roome's. We are so like, that before he scribbled himself into Preferment, we have actually been mistaken for each other. Our Looks are so happy, as to have passed off many a Saying in Conversation for Wit and Humour, that, when published, has been thought flat: Nay, the fame Thing has been said of me, as was uttered by a certain Wit (one very different from our Rank) on him, viz. that the R-.-'s Misfortune is, he cannot print his Face to his Joke,

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While I am thus delineating my Features, permit me to own, that I wish my Portrait might shine in a Mezzotinto through the Glafs-Windows of Picture-Shops in Fleet-Street and St. Paul's ChurchYard; then should I be gazed on with Admiration by Mercers 'Prentices! But I will at least indulge my Vanity in appearing on a large Sheet of Paper, in a wooden Cut, which ingenious School-Boys may delight to colour with yellow and red Ochre. What a glaring Figure shall I then make in the long Piazzas of Covent Garden! I shall be surrounded by venerable old Ballads; and several of my Family Pieces, such as the Sinners Coat of Arms, and the dreadful Sketches of Death, Judgment, and Damnation! Thence shall I be tranflated to the naked Walls of Country Ale-houses, Cobler's Stalls, and Neceffary Houses ! And thou, OR-me, thou who art my other self! be this my Glory! however different our Fortunes, however unlike the Incidents of our Lives, yet whenfoever the Countenance of Iscariot Hackney is seen, thy own dear Phiz will be called to Remembrance.

In short, I am a perfect Town Author: I hate all Mankind, yet am occasionally a mighty Patriot. I am very poor, and owe my Poverty to my Merit; that is, to my Writings: I am as proud as I am poor; yet, what is seemingly a Contradiction, never stick at a mean Action, when the Welfare of the Republick of Letters, or, in other Words, my own Interest is concerned. My Pen, like the Sword of a Swiss, or the Pleading of a Lawyer, is generally employed for Pay. There is one piece of Advice, Gentlemen, which I would propose to you: If any Papers of a dead Wit should fall into the Hands of a Member of your Society, let him be sure to print them, though never so derogatory to the Person's Reputation, to get himself Money; and if, among whole Heaps of indigested Papers, he finds a few with


large large Corrections and Additions by another eminent Hand (which he well knows) let him be sure to suppress that Circumstance in his Publication.

But to return to myself- -My Pamphlets sell many more Impressions than those of celebrated Writers; the Secret of this is, I learned from Curll to clap a new Title-Page to the Sale of every half Hundred; so that when my Bookseller has sold two Hundred and Fifty Copies, my Book generally enters into the Sixth Edition. 'Tis reckoned a villain. ous Action to write a Libel, but more so to father one on a Person who neither wrote it, nor approves it; now I own I never scruple to do both. When a Man of Figure (perhaps an Ornament of his Country) has been cruelly aspersed in his Lifetime, I love to revive the Aspersion at his Death: It is Mirth to me to grieve a whole Family, by insulting his Memory before his Body is cold in the Grave. In this I imitate the Author of Sarah the Quaker in the Shades, to Lothario lately deceased. Though I am so ready to libel others, I am downright frightened if I but hear of a Satire where my Name is likely to be inserted. When a Person does me a Favour, I either suspect he has some Design on me, or thinks it less than my Due, and that he is obliged to me, because an Author, for accepting it. I am very testy if I am not allowed Dictator of my Company; nor had I ever a Friend, whom I did not in his Absence sacrifice to iny Jeft. I contemn the Few who admire me, am angry with the Multitude who despise me, and mortally hate all who have any Ways obliged me. I assure you, I am very famous for feveral Treatises in Defence of Ingratitude : I never. fail 10 illustrate them with the Examples of Marcus Brutus among the Ancients, and very eminent Statesmen among the Moderns. My private Resentment, like that of other Great Men, is always a publick Justice.


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Now, Gentlemen, if you like me for a Correspondent, my Price is the Price of a Journalist, a Crown ; and, in the Stile of a Love-Bargain, half Wet, half Dry. You may find me in a Morning at my Lucubrations over a Quartern Pot in a Geneva Shop in Clare-Market; a House where I propose many learned Interviews with Orator Henley, who has removed his Stage to that place. I generally dine with a Brother Bard, at one of the little Cook's Shops near St. Martin's Church, and probably spend the Evening with him at a Night-Cellar in the Strand, where I shall be ready to enter into a Treaty with you.

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A Theme, which, to attempt alone, is Praise.
Be Her's a Zeal of Public Spirit known!
A Princely Zeal !--a Spirit all

your Own!

Where never Science beam'd a friendly Ray, Where one vaft Blank neglected Nature lay; From Public Spirit, ceaseless there employ'd, Creation varying glads the chearless Void. The Arts, whence Safety, Treafure and Delight, Bless Land and Sea, these Arts, O Muse, recite; Once more to view the long-loft Wonders raise, Display their Dignity, diffuse their Praise.


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