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you do not accept, I believe will go nigh to break my heart,

"For indeed, my dear, I love you above all the beauties I ever saw in all my life.

"The young gentleman, and my master's daughter, the Londoner that is come down to marry her, sate in the arbour most part of last night. Oh, dear Betty, must the nightingales sing to those who marry for money, and not to us true lovers! Oh, my dear Betty, that we could meet this night where we used to do in the wood!

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Now, my dear, if I may not have the blessing of kissing your sweet lips, I beg I may have the happiness of kissing your fair hand, with a few lines from your dear self, presented by whom you please or think fit. I believe, if time would permit me, I could write all day; but the time being short, and paper little, no more from your never-failing lover till death.

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* This man's name was James Hirst. He was a servant to the Hon. Edward Wortley, Esq. and, in delivering a parcel of letters to his master, gave by mistake this letter, which he had just prepared for his sweetheart, and kept in its stead one of his master's. He quickly returned to rectify the blunder, but it was too late. Unfortunately, the letter to Betty was the first that presented itself to Mr. Wortley, who had indulged his curiosity in reading the love-tale of his enamoured footman. James requested to have it returned in vain. No, James,' said his master,' you shall be a great man, and this letter must appear in The Spectator.' James succeeded in putting an end to Betty's ill conditions, and obtained her consent to marry him; but the marriage was prevented by her sudden death. James Hirst, soon after, from his regard and love for Betty, married her sister, and died about the year 1791, by Pennistone, in the neighbourhood of Wortley, near Leeds. Betty's sister and successor was probably the Molly who walked ten miles to carry the angry message which occasioned the preceding letter.

I that have more than I can use well of both, will put the sentiments of his kind letter, the style of which seems to be confused with scraps he had got in hearing and reading what he did not understand, into what he meant to express.

66 DEAR CREATURE,

"CAN you then neglect him who has forgot all his recreations and enjoyments, to pine away his life in thinking of you? When I do so, you appear more amiable to me than Venus does in the most beautiful description that was ever made of her. All this kindness you return with an accusation, that I do not love. you: but the contrary is so manifest, that I cannot think you in earnest. But the certainty given me in your message by Molly, that you do not love me, is what robs me of all comfort. She says you will not see me: if you can have so much cruelty, at least write to me, that I may kiss the impression made by your fair hand. I love you above all things, and, in my condition, what you look upon with indifference is to me the most exquisite pleasure or pain. Our young lady and a fine gentleman from London, who are to marry for mercenary ends, walk about our gardens, and hear the voice of evening nightingales, as if for fashion-sake they courted those solitudes, because they have heard lovers do so. Oh Betty! could I hear these rivulets murmur, and birds sing, while you stood near me, how little sensible should I be that we are both servants, that there is any thing on earth above us! Oh! I could write to you as long as I love you, till death itself. "JAMES."

N. B. By the words ill-conditions, James means— in a woman, coquetry; in a man, inconstancy.

R

No. 72. WEDNESDAY, MAY 23, 1711.

-Genus immortale manet, multosque per annos
Stat fortuna domús, et avi numerantur avorum.

VIRG. ÆN. iv. 208.

Th' immortal line in sure succession reigns,
The fortune of the family remains,
And grandsires' grandsons the long list contains.

DRYDEN.

HAVING already given my reader an account of several extraordinary clubs both ancient and modern, I did not design to have troubled him with any more narratives of this nature; but I have lately received information of a club, which I can call neither ancient nor modern, that I dare say will be no less surprising to my reader than it was to myself; for which reason I shall communicate it to the public as one of the greatest curiosities in its kind.

A friend of mine, complaining of a tradesman who is related to him, after having represented him as a very idle worthless fellow, who neglected his family and spent most of his time over a bottle, told me, to conclude his character, that he was a member of the Everlasting club. So very odd a title raised my curiosity to inquire into the nature of a club that had such a sounding name; upon which my friend gave me the following account:

The Everlasting club consists of a hundred members, who divide the whole twenty-four hours among them in a such a manner, that the club sits day and night from one end of the year to another; no party presuming to rise till they are relieved by those who ve in course to succeed them. By this means a

member of the Everlasting club never wants company; for though he is not upon duty himself, he is sure to find some who are; so that if he be disposed to take a whet, a nooning, an evening's draught, or a bottle after midnight, he goes to the club, and finds a knot of friends to his mind.

It is a maxim in this club, that the steward never dies; for, as they succeed one other by way of rotation, no man is to quit the great elbow-chair which stands at the upper end of the table, till his successor is in a readiness to fill it: insomuch that there has not been a sede vacante in the memory of man.

This club was instituted towards the end, or, as some of them say, about the middle, of the civil wars, and continued without interruption till the time of the great fire*, which burnt them out, and dispersed them for several weeks. The steward at that time maintained his post till he had like to have been blown up with a neighbouring house, which was demolished in order to stop the fire; and would not leave the chair at last, till he had emptied all the bottles upon the table, and received repeated directions from the club to withdraw himself. This steward is frequently talked of in the club, and looked upon by every member of it as a greater man than the famous captain mentioned in my Lord Clarendon, who was burnt in his ship because he would not quit it without orders. It is said, that towards the close of 1700, being the great year of jubilee, the club had it under consideration whether they should break up or continue their session; but, after many speeches and debates, it was at length agreed to sit out the other century. This resolution passed in a general

club, nemine contradicente.

Having given this short account of the institution

*Anno 1666.

and continuation of the Everlasting club, I should here endeavour to say something of the manners and characters of its several members, which I shall do according to the best light I have received in this

matter.

It appears by their books in general, that, since their first institution, they have smoked fifty ton of tobacco, drank thirty thousand butts of ale, one thousand hogsheads of red port, two hundred barrels of brandy, and a kilderkin of small beer. There has been likewise a great consumption of cards. It is also said, that they observe the law in Ben Jonson's club*, which orders the fire to be always kept in, focus perennis esto, as well for the convenience of lighting their pipes, as to cure the dampness of the club-room. They have an old woman in the nature of a vestal, whose business it is to cherish and perpetuate the fire which burns from generation to generation, and has seen the glass-house fires in and out above an hundred times.

The Everlasting club treats all other clubs with an eye of contempt, and talks even of the Kit-Cat and October as of a couple of upstarts. Their ordinary discourse, as much as I have been able to learn of it, turns altogether upon such adventures as have passed in their own assembly; of members who have taken the glass in their turns for a week together, without stirring out of the club; of others who have smoked a hundred pipes at a sitting; of others, who have not missed their morning's draught for twenty years together. Sometimes they speak in raptures of a run of ale in King Charles's reign; and sometimes reflect with astonishment upon games at whist, which have been miraculously recovered by members of the

See the Leges Convivales of this club, in Langbaine's Lives of English Poets, &c. Art. Ben. Jonson.

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