and white Girdles make love at the side of a Coach, and cry, Madam, this is dainty Weather.  Thus she described the Diversion; for she went only to pray heartily that no body might be hurt in the Crowd, and to see if the poor Fellows Face, which was distorted with grinning, might any way be brought to it self again.  She never chats over her Tea, but covers her Face, and is supposed in an Ejaculation before she taste[s] a Sup.  This ostentatious Behaviour is such an Offence to true Sanctity, that it disparages it, and makes Virtue not only unamiable, but also ridiculous.  The Sacred Writings are full of Reflections which abhor this kind of Conduct; and a Devotee is so far from promoting Goodness, that she deters others by her Example.  Folly and Vanity in one of these Ladies, is like Vice in a Clergyman; it does not only debase him, but makes the inconsiderate Part of the World think the worse of Religion.

  I am, SIR,

  Your Humble Servant,

  Hotspur.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

Xenophon, in his short Account of the Spartan Commonwealth, [1] speaking of the Behavior of their young Men in the Streets, says, There was so much Modesty in their Looks, that you might as soon have turned the eyes of a Marble Statue upon you as theirs; and that in all their Behaviour they were more modest than a Bride when put to bed upon her Wedding-Night:  This Virtue, which is always join’d to Magnanimity, had such an influence upon their Courage, that in Battel an Enemy could not look them in the Face, and they durst not but Die for their Country.

Whenever I walk into the Streets of London and Westminster, the Countenances of all the young Fellows that pass by me, make me wish my self in Sparta; I meet with such blustering Airs, big Looks, and bold Fronts, that to a superficial Observer would bespeak a Courage above those Grecians.  I am arrived to that Perfection in Speculation, that I understand the Language of the Eyes, which would be a great misfortune to me, had I not corrected the Testiness of old Age by Philosophy.  There is scarce a Man in a red Coat who does not tell me, with a full Stare, he’s a bold Man:  I see several swear inwardly at me, without any Offence of mine, but the Oddness of my Person:  I meet Contempt in every Street, express’d in different Manners, by the scornful Look, the elevated Eye-brow, and the swelling Nostrils of the Proud and Prosperous.  The Prentice speaks his Disrespect by an extended Finger, and the Porter by stealing out his Tongue.  If a Country Gentleman appears a little curious in observing the Edifices, Signs, Clocks, Coaches, and Dials, it is not to be imagined how the Polite Rabble of this Town, who are acquainted with these Objects, ridicule his Rusticity.  I have known a Fellow with a Burden on his Head steal a Hand down from his Load, and slily twirle the Cock of a Squires Hat behind him; while the Offended Person is swearing, or out of Countenance, all the Wagg-Wits