the purpose Cynthio defigned her. As foon as he believed Robin was pofted, he drove by Flavia's lodgings in an hackney-coach and a woman in it. Robin was at the door talking with Flavia's maid, and Cynthio pulled up the glafs as furprifed, and hid his affociate. The report of this circumftance foon flew up ftairs, and Robin could not deny but the gentleman favoured his mafter; yet if it was he, he was fure the lady was but his coufin whom he had feen afk for him; adding, that he believed he was a poor relation, because they made her wait one morning until he was awake. Flavia immediately writ the following epiftle, which Robin brought to Will's.

• SIR,

June 4, 1712.

IT is in vain to deny it, bafeft, falfeft of mankind ; my maid, as well as the bearer faw you.

The injured FLAVIA.'

After Cynthio had read the letter, he asked Robin how fhe looked, and what the faid at the delivery of it. Robin faid the fpoke fhort to him, and called him back again, and had nothing to fay to him, and bid him and all the men in the world go out of her fight; but the maid followed, and bid him bring an answer.

Cynthio returned as follows.

< • MADAM,

June 4, Three Afternoon, 1712.

it is

'THAT your maid and the bearer has seen me very often is very certain; but I defire to know, being engaged at piquet, what your letter means by "in vain to deny it." I fhall ftay here all the evening. Your amazed CYNTHIO.'

6

As foon as Robin arrived with this, Flavia anfwered:

Dear Cynthio,

I HAVE walked a turn or two in my anti-chamber fince I writ to you, and have recovered myself from an impertinent fit which you ought to forgive me, and

' defire you would come to me immediately to laugh off a jealoufy that you and a creature of the town went by in an hackney-coach an hour ago.

<

I am your most humble fervant,

< FLAVIA.

I will not open the letter, which my Cynthio writ upon the misapprehenfion you must have been under when you writ, for want of hearing the whole cir

cumftance.'

Robin came back in an inftant, and Cynthio anfwered;

Half an hour, fx minutes after three,

'MADAM, IT is certain I went by your lodging with a gentlewoman to whom I have the honour to be known; fhe is indeed my relation, and a pretty fort of woman. But your ftarting manner of writing, and owning you have not done me the honour fo much as to open my letter, has in it fomething very unaccountable, and alarms one that has had thoughts of paffing his days with you. But I am born to admire you with all your little imperfections.

June 4, Will's coffee-house.

'CYNTHIO.'

Robin run back, and brought for answer

;

'EXACT Sir, that are at Will's coffee-house fix minutes after three, June 4; one that has had thoughts, and all my little imperfections. Sir, come to me immediately, or I fhall determine what may perhaps not be very pleafing to you.

'FLAVIA.

Robin gave an account that she looked exceffive angry when the gave him the letters; and that he told her, for the asked, that Cynthio only looked at the clock, taking fnuff, and writ two or three words on the top of the letter when he gave him his.

Now the plot thickened fo well, as that Cynthio faw he had not much more to do to accomplish being irreconcilably banished, he writ,

'MADAM,

I HAVE that prejudice in favour of all you do, that it is not poffible for you to determine upon what will not be very pleafing to

• Your obedient fervant,

'CYNTHIO.'

This was delivered, and the answer returned, in a little more than two feconds.

SIR,

"IS it come to this? You never loved me and the creature you were with is the propereft perfon for your affociate. I defpife you, and hope I shall foon hate you as a villain to

Robin ran back with

'MADAM,

The credulous FLAVIA.'

YOUR credulity when you are to gain your point, and fufpicion when you fear to lofe it, make it a very hard part to behave as becomes

• Your humble flave,

Robin whipt away, and returned with,

• Mr. Welford,

FLAVIA and Cynthio are no more. I relieve you from the hard part of which you complain, and • banish you from my fight for ever.

ANN HEART.'

Robin had a crown for his afternoon's work; and this is published to admonish Cecilia to avenge the injury done to Flavia.

T.

N° 399

Saturday, June 7.

Ut nemo in fefe tentat defcendere !-PERS. Sat. 4. v. 23.

None, none defcends into himself to find
The fecret imperfections of his mind.

DRYDEN.

HYPOCRISY, at the fashionable end of the town,

is very different from hypocrify in the city. The modifh hypocrite endeavours to appear more vicious than he really is, the other kind of hypocrite more virtuous. The former is afraid of every thing that has the fhew of religion in it, and would be thought engaged in many criminal gallantries and amours, which he is not guilty of. The latter affumes a face of fanctity, and covers a multitude of vices under a feeming religious deportment.

But there is another kind of hypocrify, which differs from both these, and which I intend to make the subject of this paper: I mean that hypocrify, by which a man does not only deceive the world, but very often impofes on himself; that hypocrify which conceals his own heart from him, and makes him believe he is more virtuous than he really is, and either not attend to his vices, or mistake even his vices for virtues. It is this fatal hypocrify, and felf-deceit, which is taken notice of in those words, Who can understand his errors? cleanfe thou me from fecret faults.'

If the open profeffors of impiety deferve the utmost application and endeavours of moral writers to recover them from vice and folly, how much more may thofe lay a claim to their care and compaffion, who are walking in the paths of death, while they fancy themselves engaged in a courfe of virtue! I fhall endeavour, therefore, to lay down fome rules for the discovery of thofe vices that lurk in the fecret corners of the foul, and to fhew my reader those methods by which he may arrive at a true and imThe ufual means prepartial knowledge of himself. fcribed for this purpose, are to examine ourselves by the

rules which are laid down for our direction in Sacred Writ, and to compare our lives with the life of that perfon who acted up to the perfection of human nature, and is the ftanding example, as well as the great guide and inftructor, of those who receive his doctrines. Though these two heads cannot be too much infifted upon, I fhall but just mention them, fince they have been handled by many great and eminent writers.

I would therefore propofe the following methods to the confideration of fuch as would find out their fecret faults, and make a true eftimate of themselves.

too

In the first place, let them confider well what are the characters which they bear among their enemies. Our friends very often flatter us, as much as our own hearts. They either do not fee our faults, or conceal them from us, or foften them by their reprefentations, after fuch a manner, that we think them too trivial to be taken notice of. An adverfary, on the contrary, makes a ftricter search into us, discovers every flaw and imperfection in our tempers, and though his malice may fet thein in ftrong a light, it has generally fome ground for what it advances. A friend exaggerates a man's virtues, an inflames his crimes. A wife man fhould give a juft attention to both of them, fo far as they may tend to the improvement of one, and the diminution of the other. Plutarch has written an essay on the benefits which man may receive from his enemies, and, among the good fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, that by the reproaches which it cafts upon us we fee the worft fide of ourfelves, and open our eyes to feveral blemishes and defects in our lives and converfations, which we should not have obferved without the help of fuch ill-natured monitors.

enemy

In order likewife to come at a true knowledge of ourfelves, we fhould confider on the other hand how far we may deferve the praifes and approbations which the world beftow upon us: whether the actions they cèlebrate proceed from laudable and worthy motives; and how far we are really poffeffed of the virtues which gain us applaufe among thofe with whom we converfe. Such a reflection is abfolutely neceffary, if we confider how apt we are either to value or condemn ourselves by the