they prostrated themselves before the throne, and, receiving diadems of glory, were admitted as partakers of beatitude without end.

I then heard the same voice repeat, "Let each be his own judge; and, from the testimony of his own conscience, acquit or condemn himself." But far from seeing any more advance (though still there were infinite numbers remaining), I observed that they drew back, reproaching each other, beating their breasts, and making such variety of lamentations, that the violent noise awakened me, in such a mixture of joy and horror, that it will be long before my memory wears out the impression of so strong a vision; which, if it affects you enough to make you judge it worth publishing, I shall have slept, as I love to wake, for the service or warning of others.

I am, Sir,

Your constant reader,

C. D.

PLAIN-DEALER, No. 43, Aug. 17, 1724,

C

No. XXVI.

-Minuentur atræ

Carmine curæ.

HORAT.

Wake then the song! each care remove
That flies thy tuneful lay.

BOSCAWEN,

Squire,

You are the only person in the world, whose judgment I rely on in all cases of like nature to mine; therefore I desire of your worship to know how I shall act. I am what they please to call a Toast and a Fortune, and am consequently tormented with a number of impertinent humble servants. But one is the plague of my life, not only from his assiduity, but his conduct and behaviour: he seems to have a design to bully me, or fright me into a compliance; for he courts me sword in hand; and, on my first frown, he draws, and tells me if I am in the least cruel, he will before my eyes stab himself immediately. Now, Mr. **** I am terrified at the apprehension of a man's killing himself for me: I have a thousand fears about seeing a bloody ghost at my feet-curtains

in the dead of night. Yet I cannot bear the thoughts of lying all night in the arms of the man I scorn, detest, abominate. What shall I do? Shall I let him kill himself? Do you think he will kill himself? If he is coward enough to fright me, can you imagine him valiant enough to keep his word? Your sentiments and advice about this threatening felo de se lover, would oblige,

Yours,

CHARLOTTE LANGUISH.

The best advice I can give the lady will be contained in the following little tale; which, though it has been already in print, yet I believe is now very little known, and exactly suits the circumstances of this killing, despairing lover.

THE DESPAIRING LOVER.

Distracted with care

For Phyllis the fair,

Since nothing could move her,

Poor Damon, her lover,

Resolves in despair;

Resolves not to languish,

And bear so much anguish;

But, mad with his love,

To a precipice goes,

Where a leap from above

Would soon finish his woes.
When in rage he came there,
Beholding how steep

The sides did appear,

And the bottom how deep;

His torments projecting,

And sadly reflecting,

That a lover forsaken

A new love might get;

But a neck when once broken,

Can never be set;

And that he could die

Whenever he would;

But that he could live
But as long as he could;
How grievous so ever
His torment might grow,

He scorn'd to endeavour

To finish it so.

But bold, unconcern'd

At the thoughts of the pain,

He calmly return'd

To his cottage again.

Sir,

Having lately seen some of your lucubrations filled with nothing-with verses having nothing of poetry-and letters nothing to the purpose

I was apprehensive that your paper would soon come to nothing; therefore, as I have in my time communicated some little pieces which have accidentally fell into my possession, I was willing, before you quite departed, to send you the following nothing, which was sung on Drury-lane Stage this winter, and, I believe, was never yet in print. If you should not like this nothing, you may do nothing with it; for whether laid aside, or approved of, it is nothing to

Yours,

TIM. PLAYWORD.

A BALLAD ON NOTHING.

Come hark to our ditty, which shall not be long;
For we've Nothing new, sirs, your time to prolong;
So we e'en have made Nothing the theme of our song ;
Which Nobody can deny.

Nor let the grave critic of our Nothing complain,
Though Nothing of Wit should be found in our strain;
From Nothing all know there can Nothing remain ;

Which Nobody can deny,

From this Nothing the courtier assistance must borrow,
By this he the arts of his levee goes thorough;

For a promise to-day stands for Nothing to-morrow;

Which Nobody can deny.