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BUDGELL, STEELE AND ADDISON

says all Love is ridiculous, except it be coelestial; but she speaks of the Passion of one Mortal to another with too much Bitterness, for one that had no Jealousy mixed with her Contempt of it. If any Time she sees a Man warm in his Addresses to his Mistress, she will lift up her Eyes to Heaven and cry, What Nonsense is that Fool talking? Will the Bell never ring for Prayers? We have an eminent Lady of this Stamp in our County, who pretends to Amusements very much above the rest of her Sex. She never carrys a white shock Dog with Bells under her Arm, nor a Squirrel, or Dormouse, in her Pocket, but always an abridg'd Piece of Morality to steal out when she is sure of being observed. When she went to the famous AssRace (which I must confess was but an odd Diversion to be encouraged by People of Rank and Figure) it was not, like other Ladies, to hear those poor Animals bray, nor to see Fellows run naked, or to hear Country Squires in bob Wigs and white Girdles make love at the Side of a Coach, and cry Madam this is dainty Weather. Thus she described the Diversion; for she went only to pray heartily that no body might be hurt in the Crowd, and to see if the poor Fellows Face, which was distorted with Grinning, might any Way be brought to it self again. She never chats over her Tea, but covers her Face, and is supposed in an Ejaculation before she taste a Sup. This ostentatious Behaviour is such an Offence to true Sanctity, that it disparages it; and makes Virtue not only unamiable but also ridiculous. The sacred Writings are full of Reflexions which abhor this kind of Conduct; and a Devotée is so far from promoting

Goodness, that she deters others by her Example. Folly and Vanity in one of these Ladies, is like Vice in a Clergyman; it does not only debase himself, but makes the inconsiderate Part of the World think the worse of Religion.

WILLIAM LAW (1686-1761)

A Serious Call To A Devout and Holy Life. . . .

London:

1729. 8vo.

In his Serious Call Law uses very effectively for his purpose some of the character-devices of the Tatler and Spectator for making vivid his ethical conceptions. He declares if you are only told in the gross, of the folly and madness of a life devoted to the world, it makes little or no impression upon you; but if you are shown how such people live every day; ... this would be an affecting sight. . . . So that characters of this kind . . . are no where more proper than in books of devotion, and practical piety.'

His style is clear, and the choice of detail is frequently Theophrastian in its objectivity and power of observation. A title may be very misleading. The Holy and Profane State is an example, for it is one of the most truly amusing of books. The Serious Call provides too, if in a less degree, a similarly pleasant surprise.

Flavia. The imprudent use of an estate

If any one asks Flavia to do something in charity, if she likes the person who makes the proposal, or happens to be in a right temper, she will toss him half a crown or a crown, and tell him, if he knew what a long Milliner's bill she had just received, he would think it a great deal for her to give. A quarter of a year after this, she hears a sermon upon the necessity of charity; she thinks the man preaches well, that it is a very proper subject, that people want much to be put in mind of it; but she applies nothing to herself, because she remembers that she gave a crown some time ago, when she could so ill spare it.

As for poor people themselves, she will admit

THE IMPRUDENT USE OF AN ESTATE 371 of no complaints from them; she is very positive they are all cheats and lyars, and will say any thing to get relief, and therefore it must be a sin to encourage them in their evil ways.

You would think Flavia had the tenderest conscience in the world, if you was to see, how scrupulous and apprehensive she is of the guilt and danger of giving amiss.

She buys all books of wit and humour, and has made an expensive collection of all our English Poets. For she says, one cannot have a true taste of any of them, without being very conversant with them all.

She will sometimes read a book of Piety, if it is a short one, if it is much commended for stile and language, and she can tell where to borrow it. Flavia is very idle, and yet very fond of fine work: this makes her often sit working in bed until noon, and be told many a long story before she is up; so that I need not tell you, that her morning devotions are not always rightly performed.

Flavia would be a miracle of Piety, if she was but half so careful of her soul, as she is of her body. The rising of a pimple in her face, the sting of a gnat, will make her keep her room two or three days, and she thinks they are very rash people, that don't take care of things in time. This makes her so over-careful of her health, that she never thinks she is well enough; and so over indulgent, that she never can be really well. So that it costs her a great deal in sleeping-draughts and waking-draughts, in spirits for the head, in drops for the nerves, in cordials for the stomach, and in saffron for her tea.

If you visit Flavia on the Sunday, you will always meet good company, you will know what is doing in the world, you will hear the last lampoon, be told who wrote it, and who is meant by every name that is in it. You will hear what plays were acted that week, which is the finest song in the opera, who was intolerable at the last assembly, and what games are most in fashion. Flavia thinks they are Atheists that play at cards on the Sunday, but she will tell you the nicety of all the games, what cards she held, how she play'd them, and the history of all that happened at play, as soon as she comes from Church. If you would know who is rude and ill-natur'd, who is vain and foppish, who lives too high, and who is in debt. If you would know what is the quarrel at a certain house, or who and who are in love. If If you would know how late Belinda comes home at night, what cloaths she has bought, how she loves compliments, and what a long story she told at such a place. If you would know how cross Lucius is to his wife, what ill-natured things he says to her, when no body hears him; if you would know how they hate one another in their hearts, tho' they appear so kind in publick; you must visit Flavia on the Sunday. But still she has so great a regard for the holiness of the Sunday, that she has turned a poor old widow out of her house, as a prophane wretch, for having been found once mending her cloaths on the Sunday night.