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I imagined the

Thames was frozen over, and I stood by its side. Several booths were erected upon the ice, and I was told by one of the spectators, that FASHION FAIR was going to begin. He added, that every author who would carry his works there, might probably find a very good reception. I was resolved however to observe the humours of the place in safety from the shore, sensible that ice was at best preca rious, and having been always a little cowardly in my sleep.

Several of my acquaintance seemed much more hardy than I, and went over the ice with intrepidity. Some carried their works to the fair on sledges, some on carts, and those which were more voluminous, were conveyed in waggons. Their temerity astonished me. I knew their cargoes were heavy, and expected every moment they would have gone to the bottom. They all entered the fair, however, in safety, and each soon after returned to my great surprise, highly satisfied with his entertainment, and the bargains he had brought away.

The success of such numbers at last began to operate upon me. If these, cried I, meet with favour and safety, some luck may perhaps, for once attend the unfortunate. I am resolved to make a new adventure, The furniture, frippery, and fire-works of China have long been fashionably bought up. I'll try the fair with a small cargo of Chinese morality. If the Chinese have contributed to vitiate our taste, I'll try how far they can help to improve our understanding. But as others have driven into the market in waggons, I'll cautiously begin by venturing with a wheel-barrow. Thus resolved, I baled up my goods and fairly ventured; when, upon just entering the fair, I fancied the ice that had supported an hundred waggons before, cracked under me, and wheel-barrow and all went to the bottom.

Upon awaking from my reverie with the fright, I cannot help wishing that the pains taken in giving this correspondence an English dress, had been employed in contriving new political systems, or new plots for farces. I might then have taken my station in the world, either as a poet or a philosopher, and made one in those little societies where men club to raise each others reputation. But at present I belong to no particular class. I resemble one of those animals, that has been forced from its forest to gratify human curiosity. My earliest wish was to escape unheeded through life; but I have been set up for halfpence, to fret and scamper at the end of my chain. Though none are injured by my rage, I am naturally too savage to court any friends by fawning; too obstinate to be taught new tricks; and too improvident to mind what may happen: I am appeased, though not contented. Too indolent for intrigue, and too timid to push for favour, I am-But what signifies what I am?

Ελπὶς καὶ οὐ τύχη μέγα χαίρετε· τὸν λιμέν ̓ εὗρον.
Οὐδὲν ἐμοὶ χ' ὑμῖν παίζετε τις μεθ' ἐμέ.

Fortune and Hope, adieu !-I see my Port,
Too long your dupe; be others now your sport.

XXIII. The English subscription in favour of the

French prisoners commended,

XXIV. The venders of quack medicines and nos-

XXV. The natural rise and decline of kingdoms,

exemplified in the history of the kingdom

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bachelors in London. Some of the causes, 115

XXVIII. A description of a club of authors,
XXIX. The proceedings of the club of authors,
XXX. The perfection of the Chinese, in the art
of gardening. The description of a Chi-
nese garden,

XXXI. Of the degeneracy of some of the English
nobility. A mushroom feast among the

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XXXII. The manner of writing among the Chi-
nese. The Eastern tales of Magazines,

&c. ridiculed,

XXXIII. Of the present ridiculous passion of the

XXXIV. The Philosopher's son describes a lady,

nobility for painting,

XXXVI. The correspondence still continued. He

begins to be disgusted in the pursuit of

wisdom. An allegory, to prove its futility, 151

The Chinese philosopher praises the

justice of a late sentence, and instances the
injustice of the king of France, in the case
of the prince of Charolais,

XXXVIII.

The description of true politeness.
Two letters of different countries, by la-
dies falsely thought polite at home,
XXXIX. The English still have poets, though not

versifiers,

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