wandering manner in many other incidents, and he took out of his pockets several little notes or tickets to solicit for votes to employments:  as, “Mr. John Taplash having served all offices, and being reduced to great poverty, desires your vote for singing clerk of this parish.”  Another “has had ten children, all whom his wife has suckled herself; therefore humbly desires to be a schoolmaster.”  There is nothing so frequent as this way of application for offices.  It is not that you are fit for the place, but because the place would be convenient for you, that you claim a merit to it.  But commend me to the great Kirleus,[403] who has lately set up for midwifery, and to help childbirth, for no other reason, but that he is himself the Unborn Doctor.  The way is to hit upon something that puts the vulgar upon the stare, or that touches their compassion, which is often the weakest part about us.  I know a good lady, who has taken her daughters from their old dancing-master, to place them with another, for no other reason, but because the new man has broke his leg, which is so ill set, that he can never dance more.

From my own Apartment, July 13.

As it is a frequent mortification to me to receive letters, wherein people tell me, without a name, they know I meant them in such and such a passage; so that very accusation is an argument, that there are such beings in human life, as fall under our description and our discourse, is not altogether fantastical and groundless.  But in this case I am treated as I saw a boy was the other day, who gave out poxy bills:  every plain fellow took it that passed by, and went on his way without further notice:  at last came one with his nose a little abridged; who knocks the lad down, with a, “Why, you son of a w——­e, do you think I am p——­d?” But Shakespeare has made the best apology for this way of talking against the public errors:  he makes Jaques, in the play called “As You Like It,” express himself thus: 

Why, who cries out on pride, That can therein tax any private party?  What woman in the city do I name, When that I say the city woman bears The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?  Who can come in and say that I mean her, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour?  Or, what is he of basest function, That says his bravery is not on my cost?  Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits His folly to the mettle of my speech.  There then!  How then?  Then let me see wherein My tongue hath wronged him:  if it do him right, Then he hath wronged himself:  if he be free, Why then my taxing like a wild goose flies, Unclaimed of any man.[404]

St. James’s Coffee-house, July 13.