So they say she is now leading apes—­
Bloudie Jack,
And mends bachelors’ smallclothes below.

No learned editor that I am acquainted with has been able to suggest an explanation of this curious expression.

SIR,—­All my quarrels to you are kind ones, for, sure, ’tis alike impossible for me to be angry as for you to give me the occasion; therefore, when I chide (unless it be that you are not careful enough of yourself, and hazard too much a health that I am more concerned in than my own), you need not study much for excuses, I can easily forgive you anything but want of kindness.  The judgment you have made of the four lovers I recommended to you does so perfectly agree with what I think of them, that I hope it will not alter when you have read their stories. L’Amant Absente has (in my opinion) a mistress so much beyond any of the rest, that to be in danger of losing her is more than to have lost the others; L’Amant non Aime was an ass, under favour (notwithstanding the Princesse Cleobuline’s letter); his mistress had caprices that would have suited better with our Amant Jaloux than with anybody else; and the Prince Artibie was much to blame that he outlived his belle Leontine.  But if you have met with the beginning of the story of Amestris and Aglatides, you will find the rest of it in this part I send you now; and ’tis, to me, one of the prettiest I have read, and the most natural.  They say the gentleman that writes this romance has a sister that lives with him, a maid, and she furnishes him with all the little stories that come between, so that he only contrives the main design; and when he wants something to entertain his company withal, he calls to her for it.  She has an excellent fancy, sure, and a great wit; but, I am sorry to tell it you, they say ’tis the most ill-favoured creature that ever was born.  And ’tis often so; how seldom do we see a person excellent in anything but they have some great defect with it that pulls them low enough to make them equal with other people; and there is justice in’t.  Those that have fortunes have nothing else, and those that want it deserve to have it.  That’s but small comfort, though, you’ll say; ’tis confessed, but there is no such thing as perfect happiness in this world, those that have come the nearest it had many things to wish; and,—­bless me, whither am I going?  Sure, ’tis the death’s head I see stand before me puts me into this grave discourse (pray do not think I meant that for a conceit neither); how idly have I spent two sides of my paper, and am afraid, besides, I shall not have time to write two more.  Therefore I’ll make haste to tell you that my friendship for you makes me concerned in all your relations; that I have a great respect for Sir John, merely as he is your father, and that ’tis much increased by his kindness to you; that he has all my prayers and wishes for his safety; and that you will oblige me in letting me know when