From my own Apartment,October 19.
It is my frequent practice to visit places of resort in this town where I am least known,to observe what reception my works meet with in the world,and what good effects I may promise myself from my labours,and it being a privilege asserted by Monsieur Montaigne,and others,of vain-glorious memory,that we writers of essays may talk of ourselves,I take the liberty to give an account of the remarks which I find are made by some of my gentle readers upon these my dissertations.
I happened this evening to fall into a coffee-house near the 'Change,where two persons were reading my account of the "Table of Fame."The one of these was commenting as he read,and explaining who was meant by this and the other worthy as he passed on.I observed the person over against him wonderfully intent and satisfied with his explanation.When he came to Julius Caesar,who is said to have refused any conductor to the table:"No,no,"said he,"he is in the right of it,he has money enough to be welcome wherever he comes;"and then whispered,"He means a certain colonel of the Trainbands."Upon reading that Aristotle made his claim with some rudeness,but great strength of reason;"Who can that be,so rough and so reasonable?It must be some Whig,I warrant you.There is nothing but party in these public papers."Where Pythagoras is said to have a golden thigh,"Ay,ay,"said he,"he has money enough in his breeches;that is the alderman of our ward."You must know,whatever he read,I found he interpreted from his own way of life and acquaintance.I am glad my readers can construe for themselves these difficult points;but,for the benefit of posterity,I design,when I come to write my last paper of this kind,to make it an explanation of all my former.In that piece you shall have all I have commended with their proper names.The faulty characters must be left as they are,because we live in an age wherein vice is very general,and virtue very particular;for which reason the latter only wants explanation.
But I must turn my present discourse to what is of yet greater regard to me than the care of my writings;that is to say,the preservation of a lady's heart.Little did I think I should ever have business of this kind on my hands more;but,as little as any one who knows me would believe it,there is a lady at this time who professes love to me.Her passion and good humour you shall have in her own words.
"MR.BICKERSTAFF,"I had formerly a very good opinion of myself;but it is now withdrawn,and I have placed it upon you,Mr.Bickerstaff,for whom I am not ashamed to declare I have a very great passion and tenderness.It is not for your face,for that I never saw;your shape and height I am equally a stranger to;but your understanding charms me,and I am lost if you do not dissemble a little love for me.I am not without hopes;because I am not like the tawdry gay things that are fit only to make bone-lace.I am neither childish-young,nor beldame-old,but,the world says,a good agreeable woman.
"Speak peace to a troubled heart,troubled only for you;and in your next paper,let me find your thoughts of me.
"Do not think of finding out who I am,for,notwithstanding your interest in demons,they cannot help you either to my name,or a sight of my face;therefore,do not let them deceive you.
