never forgive your Choice of so gallant a Man as Bellamour to transform him to a meer sober Husband; twas unpardonable:  You see, my Dear, we all envy your Happiness, and no Person more than Your humble Servant, Lydia.

Be not in pain, good Madam, for my Appearance in Town; I shall frequent no publick Places, or make any Visits where the Character of a modest Wife is ridiculous.  As for your wild Raillery on Matrimony, tis all Hypocrisy; you, and all the handsome young Women of our Acquaintance, shew yourselves to no other Purpose than to gain a Conquest over some Man of Worth, in order to bestow your Charms and Fortune on him.  There’s no Indecency in the Confession, the Design is modest and honourable, and all your Affectation cant disguise it.

I am married, and have no other Concern but to please the Man I Love; he’s the End of every Care I have; if I dress, tis for him; if I read a Poem or a Play, tis to qualify myself for a Conversation agreeable to his Taste:  He’s almost the End of my Devotions; half my Prayers are for his Happiness.  I love to talk of him, and never hear him named but with Pleasure and Emotion.  I am your Friend, and wish your Happiness, but am sorry to see by the Air of your Letter that there are a Set of Women who are got into the Common-Place Raillery of every Thing that is sober, decent, and proper:  Matrimony and the Clergy are the Topicks of People of little Wit and no Understanding.  I own to you, I have learned of the Vicars Wife all you tax me with:  She is a discreet, ingenious, pleasant, pious Woman; I wish she had the handling of you and Mrs. Modish; you would find, if you were too free with her, she would soon make you as charming as ever you were, she would make you blush as much as if you had never been fine Ladies.  The Vicar, Madam, is so kind as to visit my Husband, and his agreeable Conversation has brought him to enjoy many sober happy Hours when even I am shut out, and my dear Master is entertained only with his own Thoughts.  These Things, dear Madam, will be lasting Satisfactions, when the fine Ladies, and the Coxcombs by whom they form themselves, are irreparably ridiculous, ridiculous in old Age.  I am, Madam, your most humble Servant, Mary Home.

Dear Mr.  SPECTATOR, You have no Goodness in the World, and are not in earnest in any thing you say that is serious, if you do not send me a plain Answer to this:  I happened some Days past to be at the Play, where during the Time of Performance, I could not keep my Eyes off from a beautiful young Creature who sat just before me, and who I have been since informed has no Fortune.  It would utterly ruin my Reputation for Discretion to marry such a one, and by what I can learn she has a Character of great Modesty, so that there is nothing to be thought on any other Way.  My Mind has ever since been so wholly bent on her, that I am much in danger of doing something very extravagant without your speedy Advice to,

  SIR, Your most humble Servant.