she followed, and, pulling him into a closet, thanked him for her cure; which was so absolute, that she gave me this relation herself, to be communicated for the benefit of all the voluntary invalids of her sex.

From my own Apartment, May 31.

THE public is not so little my concern, though I am but a student, as that I should not interest myself in the present great things in agitation. I am still of opinion the French king will sign the preliminaries. With that view, I have sent him, by my familiar, the following epistle, and admonished him, on pain of what I shall say of him to future generations, to act with sincerity on this occasion:

London, May 31, 1709. 'Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire, of Great Britain, to Lewis XIV. of France.

THE surprising news which arrived this day, of your majesty's having refused to sign the treaty your ministers have in a manner sued for, is what gives ground to this application to your majesty, from one, whose name, perhaps, is too obscure, toave ever reached your territories; but one, who with all the European world, is affected with your determinations. Therefore, as it is mine and the common cause of mankind, I presume to expostulate with you on this occasion. It will, I doubt not, appear to the vulgar extravagant, that the actions of a mighty prince should be balanced by the censure of a private man, whose approbation or dislike are equally contemptible in their eyes, when they regard the thrones of sovereigns. But your majesty has shewn, through the whole course of your reign, too great a value for liberal arts to be insensible that true fame

lies only in the hands of learned men, by whom it
is to be transmitted to futurity, with marks of honour
or reproach, to the end of time. The date of human
life is too short to recompence the cares which attend
the most private condition. Therefore it is, that our
souls are made as it were too big for it; and extend
themselves in the prospect of a longer existence, in
a good fame, and memory of worthy actions, after
our decease. The whole race of men have this pas-
sion in some degree implanted in their bosoms, which
is the strongest and noblest incitation to honest at-
tempts but the base use of the arts of peace, elo-
quence, poetry, and all the parts of learning, have
been possessed by souls so unworthy of those facul-
ties, that the names and appellations of things have
'been confounded by the labours and writings of pro-
stituted men, who have stamped a reputation upon
such actions as are in themselves the objects of con-
tempt and disgrace. This is that which has misled
your majesty in the conduct of your reign, and made
that life, which might have been the most imitable,
the most to be avoided. To this it is owing, that the
great and excellent qualities, of which your majesty
is master, are lost in their application: and your ma-
jesty has been carrying on for many years the most
cruel tyranny, with all the noble methods which are
used to support a just reign. Thus it is, that it avails
nothing that you are a bountiful master; that you
are so generous as to reward even the unsuccessful
with honour and riches; that no laudable action
passes unrewarded in your kingdom; that you have
searched all nations for obscure merit: in a word,
that you are in your private character endowed with
every princely quality; when all this is subjected to
unjust and ill-taught ambition, which, to the injury
of the world, is gilded by those endowments. How-

ever, if your majesty will condescend to look into your own soul, and consider all its faculties and weaknesses with impartiality; if you will but be con vinced, that life is supported in you by the ordinary methods of food, rest, and sleep; you will think it impossible that you could ever be so much imposed on, as to have been wrought into a belief, that so many thousands of the same make with yourself, were formed by Providence for no other end, but by the hazard of their very being to extend the conquests and glory of an individual of their own species. A very little reflection will convince your majesty, that such cannot be the intent of the Creator; and, if not, what horror must it give your majesty to think of the vast devastations your ambition has made among your fellow-creatures! While the warmth of youth, the flattery of crowds, and a continual series of success and triumph, indulged your majesty in this illusion of mind, it was less to be wondered at, that you proceeded in this mistaken pursuit of grandeur; but when age, disappointments, public calamities, personal distempers, and the reverse of all that makes men forget their true being, are fallen upon you: Heavens! Is it possible you can live without remorse? Can the wretched man be a tyrant? Can grief study torments? Can sorrow be cruel?

Your majesty will observe, I do not bring against you a railing accusation; but, as you are a strict professor of religion, I beseech your majesty to stop the effusion of blood, by receiving the opportunity which presents itself for the preservation of your distressed people. Be no longer so infatuated, as to

2 An allusion to the supposed letter of M. Maintenon in N° 19.

hope for renown from murder, and violence: but consider that the great day will come, in which this world and all its glory shall change in a moment; when nature shall sicken, and the earth and sea give up the bodies committed to them, to appear before the last tribunal. Will it then, O king! be an answer for the lives of millions, who have fallen by the sword, "They perished for my glory?" That day will come on, and one like it is immediately approaching: injured nations advance towards thy habitation: vengeance has begun its march, which is to be diverted only by the penitence of the oppressor. Awake, O monarch, from thy lethargy! Disdain the abuses thou hast received: pull down the statue which calls thee immortal: be truly great: tear thy purple, and put on sackcloth.

'I am,

Thy generous enemy,
6 ISAAC BICKERSTAFF."

STEELE.

IN

N° 24. SATURDAY, JUNE 4, 1709.

Quicquid agunt homines

nostri est farrago libelli.

Whatever good is done, whatever ill

JUV. Sat. i. 85, 86.

By human kind, shall this collection fill.

White's Chocolate-house, June 2.

my paper of the twenty-eighth of the last month, I mentioned several characters which want explanation to the generality of readers: among others, I

spoke of a Pretty Fellow. I have received a kind admonition in a letter, to take care that I do not omit to shew also what is meant by a Very Pretty Fellow, which is to be allowed as a character by itself, and a person exalted above the other by a peculiar sprightliness; as one who, by a distinguishing vigour, outstrips his companions, and has thereby deserved and obtained a particular appellation or nick-name of familiarity. Some have this distinction from the fairsex, who are so generous as to take into their protection such as are laughed at by the men, and place them for that reason in degrees of favour.

The chief of this sort is colonel Brunett, who is a man of fashion, because he will be so; and practises a very janty way of behaviour, because he is too careless to know when he offends, and too sanguine to be mortified if he did know it. Thus the colonel has met with a town ready to receive him, and cannot possibly see why he should not make use of their favour, and set himself in the first degree of conversation. Therefore he is very successfully loud among the wits, and familiar among the ladies, and dissolute among the rakes. Thus he is admitted in one place, because he is so in another; and every man treats Brunett well, not out of his particular esteem for him, but in respect to the opinion of others. It is to me a solid pleasure to see the world thus mistaken on the good-natured side; for it is ten to one but the colonel mounts into a general officer, marries a fine lady, and is master of a good estate, before they come to explain upon him. What gives most delight to me in this observation is, that all this arises from pure nature, and the colonel can account for his success no more than those by whom he succeeds. For these causes and considerations, I pronounce him