ADVERTISEMENT

TO THE FOURTH EDITION.

Many purchasers of the first and second editions fuggefted through the Publisher to the Editor that "The Birth of the Rofe," which originally occupied this page, however beautiful in itfelf, and however natural for Mr. H. to cummunicate to Mifs was written with too free a pen for the perufal of those who might otherwise derive ideas of morality, and even of religion, from these letters. The Editor's only with, in the publication of these Letters, was to ferve religion and morality. At the firft hint, he determined to take the liberty (the only one he has taken) with Mr. H's. Letters, of omitting the poem in question. It did not appear in the third edition. Were it poffible that a fyllable which remains could give offence, it fhould remain no longer; for not only the Editor, but his unfortunate friend H. would heartily fay with Pope, and as well of profe as of verfe,

Curst be the verfe, how well foe'er it flow,

That tends to make one worthy man my foe;
Give virtue fcandal, innocence a fear,

Or from the foft-ey'd virgin steal a tear!

The Publishers, however, of this volume, in order to accommodate every clafs of readers, have printed The Birth of the Rofe" upon a feparate, but uniform page. Love and Madnefs" may be had either

with or without it.

LETTER IX.

To Mr.

H. Christmas-day, 75.

My old friend the Corporal looked as if he had been tarred and feathered yesterday, when he arrived with your dear billet. Omiah took up the fugar-caster, when he saw him through the parlour window, and powdered a fresh slice of pudding, by way of painting the fnowy corporal. Omiah's fimplicity is certainly very diverting, but I fhould like him better, and take more pains with him, if I did not think he suspected fomething. The other day I am fure he came to fpy the nakednefs of the land. Thank Heaven, our caution prevented him.

But, why do I call your billet dear, when it contained fuch Poetry? Yet, to confess the truth, it did charm me. And I know not, whether, as you fay, thofe, to whom it could do any harm,could poffibly understand it. For uninitiated means, I believe, not yet admitted into the myfteries-thofe who have not yet taken the veil; or, I should rather say, those who have not yet thrown off the veil. Why was I not permitted

by

by my destiny to keep on mine, till my H. my Mars feiz'd me in his ardent arms? How gladly to his arms would I have given up my very foul!

Cruel fortune, that it can't be so to-day! But we forgot, when we fixed on to-day, that it would be Christmas-day. I must do penance at a most unpleasant dinner, as indeed is every meal and every fcene when you are abfentand that, without the confolation of having first enjoyed your company. To-morrow, however, at the ufual time and place.

Your difcontinuing your visits here, fince the first day of our happiness, gratifies the delicacy of us both. Yet, may it not, my H., raise fufpicions elsewhere? Your agreeable qualities were too confpicuous not to make you miffed. Yet, you are the best judge.

My poor, innocent, helpless babes! Were it not on your account, your mother would not act the part fhe does.-What is Mrs. Yates's fuftaining a character well for one evening? Is it fo trying as to play a part, and a bafe one too, morning, noon, and night?-Night! But I will not make my H. uneafy.

At leaft, allow that I have written you a long fcrawl. Behold, I have fent you a tolerable good fubftitute for myfelf. It is reckoned very like. I

need

need not beg you not to fhow it. Only remember, the painter's M. is not to rob your own M. of a certain quantity of things called and known by the name of kiffes, which I humbly conceive to be her due, though he has been disappoin ted of them to-day.

So, having nothing further to add at present, and the poft being juft going out, I remain, with all truth, Dear Sir,

Your most humble fervant,
M.

There's a pretty conclufion for you. Am I not a good girl? I fhall become a most elegant correfpondent in time, I fee. This paragraph is the poftfcript, you know--and fhould therefore have been introduced by a well flourished P. S. the Sir Clement Cottrel upon these occafions.

LETTER

To Mifs

X.

Huntingdon, -28 Dec. 75.

Your condefcenfion in removing my moft groundless caufe of jealoufy yesterday, was more than I deferved. How I expofed myfelf by my

violence

violence with you! But, I tell you, my passions are all gunpowder. Though, thank God, no Othello, yet am I

"One not easily jealous; but, being wrought, "Perplex'd in th' extreme;"

And that God knows how I love you, worship you, idolize you.

How could I think you particular to such a thing as B? You faid you forgave me to-day, and I hope you did. Let me have it again from your own dear lips to-morrow, instead of the next day. Every thing fhall be ready--and the guitar, which I wrote for, is come down, and I'll bring the fong and you shall fing it, and play it, and I'll beg you to forgive me, and you shall forgive me, and,-five hundred ands befides.

Why, I would be jealous of this sheet of paper, if you kiffed it with too much rapture. What a fool!-No, my M., rather fay-what a lover!

Many thanks for your picture. It is like. Accept this proof that I have examined it.

'Tis true, creative man, thine art can teach The living picture every thing but speech! True, thou haft drawn her, as she is, all fairDivinely fair! her lips, her eyes, her hair!

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